#i really encourage everyone to watch this

[thesquishyfish]

As someone that’s starting to lose mobility, I have been paying more attention to accessibility for disabilities and how it must be getting around in a chair or on crutches. There’s so much stuff I didn’t pick up on until I started thinking about how it might personally affect me in the future. Broken elevators, no ramps up onto curbs, having to buzz in and wait for an employee to let you into buildings other people just walk straight into, ramps that in my inexperienced opinion look damn near impossible to climb in a chair, and of course sidewalks and the like that are terribly uneven from the ground settling.

But also the social aspect of it! I’ve watched people grab people’s chair handles and move them without asking! That feels like the equivalent of shoving someone out of your way and is horribly disrespectful and rude but nobody throws the same fit about it that they would if someone was going around pushing and shoving standing people in a store. Sometimes people will grab and move peoples’ canes crutches, or walkers without asking or even saying anything and that could be so dangerous and why does nobody care? I can even imagine being in a power chair and trying to exist in the world independently with how I’ve seen some people be treated.

I’d like to believe that I can get better and keep walking, but if I can’t I would also like to believe that I can still be treated with respect and equality. I’d encourage anyone who isn’t physically disabled to imagine for a second being in a wheelchair or needing a cane when you’re out doing something mundane and you’ll notice just how difficult things are, sometimes for no reason.

Kinda went on a rant there but it’s something I think about a lot these days. This isn’t a reason you should care, honestly you should care about everyone, but everyone is one bad accident or cancerous cell or underlying medical condition away from being disabled, and if you can’t care about others you can at least think about the world you might be making for yourself. That’s what it took for me to start really noticing.

If you use wheelchair users as an example of the default "person who gets automatically accommodated and treated with empathy and respect" then I'm going to hunt you for sport.

A lot of wheelchair users end up needing to make a whole new group of friends when they start using wheelchairs because suddenly you're viewed as captain buzzkill when you don't want to be carried up and down the stairs by people you KNOW don't lift.

[jester-lover]

Batfam with a Desi! S/O

CWs: Fem! aligned reader discussions of discrimination, angst, spoilers, but overall fluff

AN: I'm desi and I rarely see desi! reader content out here, so I felt the need to deliver, would love feedback! Also, I'm very new to the Batfamily dynamic, so please don't think anything OOC is intentional.

Bruce

You’ve got to be a really smart person to catch his eye; when you’ve got him, he’s absolutely ensnared by you. Bruce worships the damn ground you walk on, and he respects your culture from the get-go.

As a businessman, he’s met people from all countries. He knows how to behave respectfully towards your family without much nagging. By that I mean, he’ll take his shoes off when he gets to your place.

You know those big gold bangles and accessories you’ve always wanted? You’ll get them. Bruce knows what an investment gold can be, and he’s insistent on only the best for you.

Desi culture is very family-oriented, and while at first, he’s a little put off by how close everyone is, he warms up to it. Your family adores him because they know he can take care of you, and he actually puts in effort to connect with your identity.

He encourages you to wear traditional clothes to every press event you attend, and whenever you’re at desi events together, he’ll wear a kurta too. Imagine going to a desi wedding with a billionaire in tow, and he starts throwing hundreds on the dance floor lol.

You worry about him regarding his double life, but he tries to keep the crime in Gotham away from you the best he can.

Dick

He’s so down bad about you his own teammates make fun of him for it.

Dick would see you doing something like oiling your hair and beg to try it out too, so now you oil his hair once weekly. He tells everyone it’s a secret, but they all know it got better as soon as he was with you.

He would love watching sappy old Bollywood/Tollywood movies with you; the plots and slang might be outdated, but he loves the ornateness of it all. Like he’s a sucker for good background and costume design.

Your family loves how much attention he pays to himself and his body, and he practically soaks in the adoration of any number of little cousins he can pick up and spin around at family functions.

Speaking of functions, you know he’s gonna be in the middle of the dance floor. Does he know even a single song or move? Absolutely he does not, but is he gonna try to replicate SRK from his heart? Yes, he is.

He might shed a little tear the first time he sees you in traditional clothes; you just look so pretty to him. He loves seeing you in lehengas and saris, especially the long, flowy fabric that makes you look like a princess to him.

Jason

I really don’t think your family would like him at first, but he’s committed to you, and he’s gonna be with you as long as you’ll have him. He’ll happily immerse himself in your culture and eventually gain their trust, albeit, hanging on a thread.

Similarly to Dick, he’ll ask for you to try oiling his hair, but he’d love oiling your hair too, helping you tend to it during slow days. 

While none of the other people here would be quiet in the face of you facing discrimination, Jason would be the most willing to cause equal or worse harm. God forbid someone acts rude or racist towards you; they will find their lives slowly falling apart around them. From flat tires to burnt-down houses, he will willingly cause misery for those who have upset you over something you couldn’t possibly control.

Loves to help you cook; seeing a dish come together makes him feel all domestic and giddy inside. Even if it’s something simple, like a cup of chai or basic daal, he loves the richness of the flavors and spice. His spice tolerance is also high, so you don’t need to make your shared meals blander.

Worrying about clothes is a little out of his general interest, but he loves how opulent your traditional clothes are, like the amount of attention to detail and elegance. He thinks you look pretty even after the event, shoes in hand and hair messy after dancing for hours. He’ll carry you to the car if you ask him.

On the topic of clothes, Jason would look so gorgeous in a silky black kurta; I just know it.

Tim

One of my favorite gora pakoras.

He’d love to visit your country of origin someday; warm weather, good food, meeting your extended family—it’s all great for him.

Loves desi sweets so much. His favorites are mostly kulfi and syrupy treats like gulab jamun, but he loves snacks like pakoras.

This is the boy you want to bring home; he’s smart, self-reliant, comes from money, and is willing to keep up with the various traditions we have. Tim will happily learn your language, even if just to greet people respectfully at events. Your desi mom will literally start telling you to act more like him.

He’ll get himself matching kurtas to your outfits if you want him to, even if he kind of just sits around at events. It's not that he doesn’t want to socialize; he’s just a little nervous.

Tim will watch all the Desi rom-coms you want with you, especially the musical ones; they’re his guilty pleasure.

Duke

He’s so sweet, genuinely such a good partner in general, but also so conscious of cultural and social differences. 

Duke Thomas would be the type of boyfriend who carries around extra safety pins whenever you’re in traditional clothes or bobby pins for your hair, just thoughtful in little but important ways.

Running around fighting crime really takes a lot out of a guy, so you know he’d love to eat some hearty food; I think his favorites would be biryani or anything similarly substantial. 

This is the boy who’d spend any spare hour he has listening to you ramble on about family drama that goes back three generations and spans 3 continents. He’ll even help you oil your hair while he’s at it; he’s pretty decent at massaging it into your scalp. 

His favorite clothes on you are the less gown-like desi clothes, like the Shalwar Kameez; Duke thinks you look absolutely adorable in a dupatta.

He adores you so much because of everything that makes you, you. That includes loving your culture.

Barbara

Barbara’s such an ideal girlfriend in any situation, but with a desi partner, she’d really adore exploring your culture with you.

Another one who’d love watching Bollywood/Tollywood movies with you, especially some of the newer ones by more obscure directors, focusing on women’s issues and other elements of modern Desi society.

She would help you do your makeup for formal events, and it will be locked down for the night. Imagine wearing matching lehengas with Barb; she’d look so stunning!

Warms up to your family pretty quickly; she loves sharing chai and biscuits in the morning with them, talking about all the happenings in the city.

Barbara loves desi jewelry; she’d adore it if you got her a piece. She loves seeing you in ornate matching sets, just decked out in glamour.

[abitchyturtle]

How does something you don't even care about wind up living so rent-free in your head, Lily? You couldn't keep Steven Universe out of your mouth for years and made several videos on it, despite trying to claim that you didn't want to talk about it anymore.

Oh wait, I know. Because the show was popular at the time, and smearing it and attempting to defame Rebecca Sugar would get you a lot of views.

Yeah. That's it.

You literally started pretty much an entire all out internet war against Steven Universe and Sugar ( And don't tell me she wasn't responsible for it. She would sit there actively encouraging it and interacting with people complaining about Sugar. She knew what she was doing. ), you knew it, and you literally didn't even give care because you could sit there on your throne while people brought up your awful two hour long video full of misinformation and insanity.

It's the one video that turned me away from your content, despite the fact that everyone else seemed to be on board with it. I told myself that, amongst the other things that were wrong with this video, the overarching problem is that you clearly didn't watch it.

I was right.

That intro she used to use for her videos of Peter from Family Guy going ' Give me money' was not really a joke. That's how she views her fans and her audience.

It's sad, and it's honestly even sadder that people take her opinion so seriously when this is how she views the material she 'reviews'.

Lily just admitted that she never watched Steven Universe, she only covered it because it was on while she was covering MLP.

[gothicfied]

Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120 Headcanons

Pairing: Cho Hyun-ju / Player 120 x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, killing, guns/gunshots (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

જ⁀➴ Watching Hyun-ju during the six-legged pentathlon, you couldn't help but be amazed. She was a leader, a fighter, someone who didn't and wouldn't give up, that much was sure. It was amazing to see her lead her group to victory, to safety, being the one to push them and encourage them. Everyone cheered, obviously including you, and it truly was an amazing feeling to see them all get away with their lives. You weren't so sure if you'd make it, too.

જ⁀➴ Thankfully, you did. Your group barely scraped by and you just decided that you needed to be on Hyun-ju's team. Hesitantly, you approached Geum-ja, who immediately noticed your small figure and agreed in a heart beat to let you join their little group.

"You were great back there, you know?" You told Hyun-ju with a shy smile while she was sitting on the stairs, originally just observing Yong-sik getting scolded by his mother again. "Hm? Ah.. that was nothing." she replied back, shaking her head when smiling up at you. "I think everyone in here should be like you," you chuckled, "like, actually. We'd all benefit from it."

જ⁀➴ Hyun-ju's heart melted at all the nice words you would say to her, complimenting her braveness and strength. It made her feel more validated in her actions, which was the motivation she really needed in a place like this. Young-mi was equally excited to have you in their group now, having animated conversations with you about the things you had in common — And if she approved of you, Hyun-ju would, too.

જ⁀➴ Whenever you were scared, were having doubts about yourself or just needed someone to talk, Hyun-ju was there. It was almost like she felt it when you felt that way and she'd always listen to you and comfort you. Her hugs were warm and firm, perfectly calming you down after a particularly bad nightmare. In return, you also encouraged her to talk to you if she ever felt the need to, but everytime you suggested that she'd laugh it off. To Hyun-ju, it was enough to know that she brought you comfort, she didn't need anything in return. She did think it was adorable for you to say that.

જ⁀➴ To distract you from all the stress sometimes, she'd ask you about your plans for the future, about your hobbies and jusy about the things that made you, you. Hyun-ju was genuinely interested in getting to know you and was growing very fond of you over a short period of time.

જ⁀➴ After suffering through the third game together, and also a painful loss (rip Young-mi, my queen), everyone was going through it. Instead of everyone keeping it peaceful, they just decided to slaughter each other after lights out. Ever since losing Young-mi, Hyun-ju was very adamant on keeping you by her side at all times. She wouldn't make that mistake again and leave someone she cared about out of her sight.

The lights flicker like crazy above you, screams and the disgusting sound of people getting killed right next to you were the only things you could focus on right now. You were panicking, you were scared, you felt like you were going to cry and throw up. Hyun-ju had grabbed you by your hand and dragged you to the last corner of the dorm area, hiding you between some mattresses other players had set up. She was firmly holding you by your shoulders and telling you something you couldn't make up. Probably that everything will be okay or something. "Hey! Hey, please listen to me," Hyun-ju leaned in close, hugging you against her, "it's all going to be fine. We'll be okay."

જ⁀➴ In fact, you were. Obviously you were. Hyun-ju wouldn't say something she didn't mean — she wouldn't lie to you. She knew that winning someones trust was hard and the fact that you put so much of it into her filled her with pride.

જ⁀➴ Gi-hun had his mind set on a revolution. Anybody who could handle a firearm was supposed to step forward and take one of of the ones they took off the dead guards. You swallowed, locking eyes with Hyun-ju. She'd step forward, they needed her. You gave her a quick nod and a faint smile and she returned it, quickly stepping forward to help the others.

Geum-ja put a hand on your shoulder, claiming that she'll be fine and that she's far too tough to die out there. "They'll be back to get us out of here, don't worry about it." she said, tugging you by your sleeve, beckoning you to come with her.

When Dae-ho stormed in after a while again, hastily collecting the magazines out of the guards pockets, you were relieved, even if he seemed extremely beside himself. He had some sort of panic attack, so you sat him down on one of the beds, trying to reason with him, until Hyun-ju stormed in, making your facs light up. Oh my god, she's alive. She basically ran to Dae-ho, urging for the ammunition and kept asking him what happened.. so, this wasn't going according to plan at all. You assumption was confirmed by all the masked guards that flooded into the dorm area, holding the remaining players at gunpoint.

"Hyun-ju..?" your voice was shaky. Her eyes fell down on you, taking your hand into hers. "It's all going to be fine."

[charmac]

thoughts on charlie learning how to read?

As to the effect, I think we’ll have to wait to see what really comes of it, considering the very final joke of the episode is he thinks “guest” on the scoreboard says “ghost,” they definitely made a point to make it clear he’s not necessarily literate by any means beyond “enough to graduate kindergarten”

I do like what Justin and Patrick, the EPs for Abbott said about the longevity of that establishment:

In the end, it’s definitely what Sunny and Charlie Day decide to do with this canon. We know the Abbott ep was filmed before any of the episodes for Season 17 of Sunny, so it’s not out of the realm of possibility that they do stick with the idea that Charlie doesn’t struggle as much with reading and writing and maybe has a little kick in him to keep practicing.

Personally on the existence of the storyline now incorporated into Sunny canon, I think they did it in such a fantastic way it’s hard for me to argue anything against or say anything negative. I loved watching it. The thing I love about Abbott is the heart they have in the stories and how real a lot of what they address and tackle in childhood-into-adult development is, and you feel that here, for sure. And we’re watching Abbott, not Sunny, so it’s something removed from the purgatory of the bar.

For those of us that know and love Charlie, I think it’s hard to not feel soft toward this idea that (even if it doesn’t stick or it’s so so basic) there really truly are ways for the Gang to develop and improve on their faults/stubbornness to change, provided it’s treated the right way. And that can only be done (and maybe only continue) in a completely different environment, like Abbott.

The tragedy of Sunny and the Gang is that they’ll never treat each other in that way and therefore can rarely develop. It’s not that they don’t necessarily care, but that their communication methods are so crude and fulled by (often trauma-born) selfishness, they can never give each other the support needed to help improve each other. They make each other miserable in most cases, but they’re also content with that because they almost equally inflict what they take on....

Though Sunny isn't all complete misery, as we all know. They do love each other in fucked up ways and (maybe) almost wish they could help each other in certain respects. Mac's support and encouragement of Charlie being able to read is evident in many Sunny episodes, so it really warmed my heart that Charlie was so eager to show Mac how he had learned and could do a more difficult part of the book for him :) In my opinion, they kept it well aligned with Sunny canon. The Gang don't have the tools to teach Charlie to read, but they do all support and even partly enjoy him learning if they don't have to do it themselves.

I think what we see of Charlie in the Sunny episode will be interesting. Since he's the A plot in Abbott, I have to imagine he has a minor role in Sunny, but will certainly be present. If the idea here is that everyone other than Dennis is serving to distract the teachers, and Charlie only learned to read for the week and goes back to his baseline state of illiteracy, I think I would accept that too.

The lasting effect of the plot doesn't matter too much to me. I think instead the idea that, in the right environment, Charlie can learn to read (and even gets some sense of pride and excitement out of being able to read) but Paddy's and the Gang are really what hinder him from being able to do so (despite the Gang not necessarily against the idea, and considering the fact that Charlie contributes to and prefers the environment they've created) reinforces the Sunny that we hold dear.

[lizsos]

In the shadows spotlight

▪︎warning : dirty talking , no protection g!p....etc mdni

▪︎genre : smut

▪︎p.s : huge thanks to @mysealover suggesting this idea ilyyyy <33

The crisp autumn breeze carried the faint scent of fallen leaves through the air as You adjusted your scarf and stepped out of the dorm building. It had been a month since you moved to the new town and started at the university. Despite the bustling campus and vibrant energy of your peers, you still preferred to keep your world small. You found comfort in your books, your studies, and the rare quiet moments you spent alone.

Your roommate, Tatter, was the complete opposite. Outgoing and effortlessly charismatic, Tatter seemed to know everyone on campus. And yet, she’d been kind and patient with You, never pushing too hard, but always encouraging you  to step out of your shell just a little.

“You’ll love it, I promise,” Tatter had said the day before, twirling around their dorm room with excitement. “The party’s going to be epic, and my friend Bada is performing. She’s amazing, Y/n. You have to come!”

Yon had reluctantly agreed, though the idea of a crowded party made your stomach churn.

The night of the event, You lingered at the edge of the gymnasium-turned-venue, nervously clutching a cup of punch. The lights were low, music thumped through the speakers, and the chatter of students filled the air. You kept close to Tatter, who introduced her to a few friends before disappearing into the crowd.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back!” Tatter called over her shoulder.

You sighed, retreating to the farthest corner of the room where you could quietly observe. Your eyes wandered to the stage as the spotlight flickered on, revealing a group of dancers. The crowd roared in approval as the music began.

And then you saw her.

Bada.

Tatter hadn’t exaggerated. Bada was magnetic. Her tall frame moved with a confidence and precision that made it impossible to look away. She danced with a fluidity that seemed effortless, her sharp movements contrasting with moments of subtle grace. The crowd seemed to fade away as you found herself captivated by Bada’s presence.

When the performance ended, the applause was deafening. You clapped politely, your heart pounding for reasons you didn't dn’t fully understand.

Tatter came back with drinks and saw your twinkling shocked eyes and she slightly smirked Told you she was good.”

"Yeah,” You said softly, still captivated.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. You found herself enjoying the company of Tatter’s friends, their energy infectious. You even managed to laugh a few times, the tension in your shoulders easing.

It wasn’t until much later that you saw Bada again. You were standing near the refreshment table, chatting with someone. Tatter noticed you staring and nudged you with a grin.

“Go say hi,” she teased.

“What? No. I—” You shook her head quickly.

But it was too late. Tatter was already calling Bada over, her voice carrying above the noise. Bada turned, her eyes landing on You. A smile spread across her face as she walked over, her stride confident and smooth.

“Hey,” Bada said, her voice low and warm. “You’re Tatter’s roommate, right?”

You nodded, her cheeks heating. “Yeah. Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Bada said, her smile widening. “Enjoying the party?”

“It’s… nice,” Yousaid, feeling awkward under Bada’s gaze.

Bada chuckled, her laugh rich and easy. “Glad to hear it. I saw you watching the performance. What did you think?”

“It was incredible,” You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re really talented.”

“Thanks,” Bada said, her expression softening. “Maybe I’ll see you around more?”

You glanced at Tatter, who was pretending not to eavesdrop but failing miserably. You looked back at Bada and gave a small smile.

“Maybe.”

And with that, the spark was lit

The weeks passed in a haze of classes, assignments, and quiet evenings in the dorm. But ever since the night of the party, You found your thoughts frequently drifting to Bada—the way she moved with such ease, the casual charm in her smile, and the way her eyes seemed to linger on Y/N just a fraction longer than they needed to.

It didn’t help that Bada had made herself a near-constant presence in her life. At first, it was subtle: accompanying Tatter to the dorm under the guise of “hanging out,” or randomly bumping into you at the library. But as time went on, Bada’s intentions became harder to ignore.

One rainy afternoon, You were sitting in the campus library, hunched over your notes. You were  trying to focus on an upcoming exam, but your concentration was broken when a familiar voice called out.

“There’s my favorite bookworm.”

You glanced up to see Bada striding toward her, a cocky grin on her face and her hands tucked into the pockets of her leather jacket. Her hair was damp from the rain, and a few stray droplets clung to her jawline. She looked effortlessly handsome, as always.

“You know,” Bada continued as she slid into the seat across from You, “you’re always so serious. It’s almost intimidating.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the comment but laughs it off “ well I’m just studying.”

“Clearly,” Bada said, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand. Her gaze was warm but playful, her boyish charm on full display. “But don’t you ever take a break? I mean, life’s happening all around you, and you’re stuck in a book. Where’s the fun in that?”

You frowned slightly, unsure how to respond. But before she could, Bada smirked and added, “Unless, of course, you’re just pretending to study so I’ll come talk to you. In that case, I’m flattered.”

Your cheeks turned pink, and you looked down at her notes. “I’m not pretending,” you mumbled

“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” Bada said, laughing softly. “But seriously, you should try something new  to have some fun every once in a while to and id like to Show you what you’re missing.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you  glanced up to see Bada watching you with that same teasing grin. “I—I don’t think that’s a good idea,” already feeling your face heat up. “I—I don’t, usually. Just trying something new.”

"Why not?” Bada asked, leaning closer. “You scared you might have fun?”

Bada saw how flushed you were from what she said so she laughed again saying

“Well, if you ever need a personal trainer, on that matter ” Bada said, her voice dropping slightly, “I’m available. But fair warning—I’m a very hands-on coach.”

Your eyes widened, and you were nearly tripped over your own feet. Bada laughed, catching your arm to steady her.

Bada’s boldness was a constant source of flustered frustration for You. Whether it was a casual comment that left you blushing or a lingering glance that made your pulse race, Bada seemed to delight in getting under your skin.

The turning point came one chilly evening when they found themselves alone in the dance studio. Tatter had begged you to come watch one of Bada’s rehearsals, but she’d ducked out early, leaving You and Bada behind.

Bada was pacing the room, her hair tied back and her usual confidence dimmed by frustration. “I can’t get this move right,” she muttered.

“Maybe you just need a break,” You suggested hesitantly.

Bada paused, then turned to face her. “You sound like me,” she said with a faint smile.

You smiled back, and for a moment, the room felt still. Then

You began talking.

“remember when you said you'd teach how to have some fun ,” she said softly , Bada looked her slightly smirking ”yeah what about it?" Your  heart raced as Bada closed the distance between them. “ are you still up for it?"

“Well,” Bada said, shifting closer, “maybe I am”

The room was charged with an almost unbearable tension, the air between them crackling as if it were alive. Bada’s dark eyes locked onto Yours, searching for permission—something unspoken but undeniable. Slowly, she stepped closer, her tall frame towering but gentle, giving you  just enough time to pull away if she wanted.

But you didn't .

Bada’s hand came up to cup Your cheek, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin, igniting a shiver down your spine. Her other hand slid around Your waist, pulling you in until your bodies were flush.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been holding back,” Bada murmured, her breath warm against Your lips. Her voice was low, rough, and full of restrained desire.

Before You could respond, Bada closed the distance, her lips capturing your in a kiss that was anything but soft. It was fiery, urgent, like a dam breaking after being held back for far too long.

Bada’s lips moved against hers with a confidence that made Your knees weak, your hands instinctively clutching at Bada’s jacket for support. The kiss deepened, Bada tilting her head to claim You fully, her fingers threading through your hair as she pulled you impossibly closer.

The heat between them was overwhelming, each press of their lips sending waves of electricity through Your body. Bada’s lips were soft but commanding, coaxing you into surrendering completely. She kissed like she danced—with passion, precision, and an intensity that left no room for doubt.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. Bada’s lips curled into a wicked smirk, her voice husky as she whispered, “If you think that was good, just wait until I stop holding back.”

Yours cheeks burned, but your heart pounded with exhilaration. There was no going back now, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

Bada continued kissing you so fiercely making you moan a bit "god I could get addicted to those sounds" she said while kissing you "b-bada I love you"

Pulling ever-so-slightly on your glossy lower lip with his teeth, "Say it again, sweetheart."

" I love-"

And again. And again and again and- each and every time Bada's kissing away your little words, a large hand coming up around your throat to thumb apart your lips further. "Open"

she hisses against your mouth .

It's as if on autopilot when you do, bruised lips sagging open. Leaving the perfect lil' opening for Bada to spit onto your lolling tongue, once. Twice. Thrice. Until your bleary eyes are snapping open, whining against Bada's iron-hold fist when you pathetically try to pull away in embarrassment.

Because shit, let it be known that Bada Lee  has perfect aim except for when it comes to you. Letting the steady strip of spit splatter against the side of  your mouth, gliding her thumb to smear it all over your lips. "How cute I bet you'd sound cuter moaning my name while I'm stuffed inside you Bada says , eyes hooded. she gives your pouty lips a peck Bada laughs  humorless at the way your jaw drops open in disbelief. Humming into your throat

" I may not be your girlfriend." she leaves little bite marks down your racing pulse, your collarbone, your tits spilling out of your sinful dress. Eyes just devouring you through her long lashes, "But that doesn't make you any less mine." Sitting back on the mattress, all it takes her is a simple tug on your hips to seat you so prettily on her lap.

Your legs trembling around her thick thighs, gasping at the feeling of something so rock-hard right under your clothed pussy.

"Since you like riding thighs so much, sweetheart-" Bunching your dress up at your hips, gripping your waist tight. "-let's see how you like mine."

"What oh ngh- fuck-" you're gasping when she just starts dragging your sloppy hips down her thigh. Long, harsh movements that don't even ease you into it. "Shit." Bada  groans at the feeling of your cunt drooling, seeping into her skin already. She's angling her head to spy on the heavenly view - hooking a finger around your drenched panties. "This damn thing is-" she  Pulled it and teared it. "is in the way"

You're gasping when Bada pulls back to look at you with a content grin, dangling the flimsy fabric around her finger like a badge of honor. "You're-ngh-buying me a new one."

"Oh, anything for you." she's grazing her teeth along your earlobe, fingers finding their way back on your hips to grind them on her thigh, back and forth. Up and down up and down up and- "Or is that what you wanted me to say?"

And shit Bada is so mean with the way she gives your ass a sharp smack! Pulling your whiny face closer, grinning sternly against your lips .

she keeps  bouncing her knees up and down to get you to slide your cunt down her long thighs faster. Puffy folds  spreading so shamefully open - so shamefuly good.  Just goading on your poor self to huff and puff in a way that made her cock twitch wildly.  You're stubbornly keeping your lips sealed shut to keep yourself from crying out - and oh, Bada didn't like that. Almost as much as she didn't like seeing you giving those beautiful heart-eyes at some other bastard. "Oh? Playing shy now?"

Smack!

she Bounced her knee faster. The pads of her long fingers sting into your skin, sure to leave bruises for her to admire later - and for some people to take note of. Pulling - drawing your cunt to hump her like a bitch in heat. "Tha's alright, pretty. I get it."

And bada - mean, mean bada - waits until your features often in relief, almost letting out a sigh - before dipping a hand down to brush a thumb at your pretty clit. Hard . " oh- fuck fuck fuck-" you mewl, nails digging into bada's shoulders when she starts to draw frenzied, methodical little circles on your throbbing clit. "S'too- good- oh my god-"

" works jus' fine, sweetheart." But oh for how confident bada was talking you into insanity, she can't help but gape in wonder down below her awe-struck with how sloppy you were. she could see you sweet sweet juices trailing down her palm, that glossy sheen on her thigh.

"You're so dripping wet, pretty. Who're you this wet for? me or-" bada's free hand comes up to squish your cheeks together into an embarrassing pout " ur exes?"  Fuck, bada can't even be mad at the way she feels your cunt clench in surprise - because the feeling is so heavenly. Her pretty girl, getting off on just her thigh. Hips stuttering as you move faster - sloppier.

So, so filthily all the way from around her knee just till where you could feel the curve of her massive erection. she doesn't even have to move your hips for you anymore - you're moving as if on instinct at this point. And it makes her smirk, "Heh, such a slutty lil' thing aren't ya? Gettin' off on my thigh?" Feeling you push your hips down hard - so hard. Pelvis desperately trying to hit all your sweet spots, "N' who's thigh are you riding right now?"

It's all you can do to manage out a whimpering "Y-you."

But, of course, that wasn't enough. And bada's only quirking her fingers just enough on your clit to make you cry out loud. "Yeah tha's more like it. Louder now - who's thigh are you riding right now?"

"You-"

"N' who got you this fucking wet?" You cry out when bada angles her leg up ever-so-slightly to watch gravity slide you faster down her thigh. Clit catching so fucking obscenely along the fabric of her pants. Ruthless.

"F-fuck you, bada!"

"Mhmmm, thought so" Her hot tongue darts out to catch those big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks at the unforgiving stimulation. Muscled thighs

burning lightly now - faster - fingers so erratic. Only getting even more so. "Cuz you're mine aren't ya?" You cum so hard - violent, even -that you don't realize when you are. Just

that you're letting out a broken sob of bada's name while she toys sor elentlessly with your clit through your high.

Flashes of white in your vision, your heartbeat in your ears. So good that you're almost tearing apart her button-up to shreds, hips jerky and sensitive as you your sloppy cunt gushes all over Satoru's thigh. And, fuck, you'ven ever felt so much like such a slutthan when you look down to catch the

glossy coating all over it. One that bada swipes thumb at  poling the syrupy slick on her fingerpad before bringing up to her pretty pink lips and-pop!

"Mmm." She groans, muffled. "Fuck, you're so Sweet - could taste you forever." Eyes rolling to the back of her head at your addictive taste,  "f-fuck you, bada!"

you don't know what you're reeling more from - the way that badat hrows you around so easily, pushing you back until you're splayed out against the floor shaky legs on her shoulders, arms around her neck. Or from the realization that shit, you'd been too busy losing your absolute sanity to answer her question. "l'm yours, bad-"

"Now now, don't try that with me, sweetheart" Bada cuts off your flurry of apologies, kissing softly at the ankle beside her neck while she pulls off your dress and bra. You didn't need those, anyway. "Guess I just have to prove it to ya, right?

And fuck was she well and fully intent on proving it to you. Because the words are barely out of her mouth before she's peeling down her drenched pants - and those unnecessary boxers right along with it, too. bada hisses when her painfully hard erection smacks against those toned abs, smearing precum in a small, filthy little pool. So so angry with the need to be inside your tight pussy - to prove to you from the inside out that you were hers.

"Ya like what you see?" she notices your fixed stare at her cock. Greedily following the precum beading at her  fat, red head, making its way between bada's prominent veins. To those tufts of white way down, down, down- "Hey there."You're startled out of your little reverie by two wet fingers beings napped in your face, "As flattered as I am, this is actually my favorite part" and fuck you could see why it was.

because it felt so sinful to watch with batth at the way bada fists her swollen cock, gliding her  weeping tip between your swollen folds. Letting your pretty pussy slobber all over her . Up and down. Again. And again. Teasing." P-please, bada-" you whine around the fifth time she's "accidentally nudging

at your poor clit. Hips bucking up in need for more more more-"Enough teasing, jus' wan' you ngh- inside me."

To bada , no sweeter words have been spoken. But she still manages to curl her lips into a leering smirk at your fucked-out, needy self.

"Funny. Coming from someone who shit- pretty, you're pussy's trynna suck me up" she presses her thick tip down on your clit, on purpose.

"Would've fucked you ngh- real nicely, tonight, y'know? What a shame" you can only watch when she draws her hips back, lining up right with your sloppy hole.

" what a shame m'gonna ah- fuck you like the slut you are right now."

It's all that's said before she's pushing in - to your snug cunt, to your fucking lungs it felt like.

"Oh- oh fuck, bada you-"  back arching off the floor at the the  girth thag was rubbing up against your gummy walls and stretching them out so good. All the way until all you could feelwas the rapid thump! thump! Thump! of her throbbing cock pushing between your legs. " God, s'too big-"

"No no no, you don't get to say that." bada spits into your open mouth,

hips jutting forward like some animal in short, shallow grinds to bully herself deeper. " You don't get to fuck- ngh- act all coy when you brought this upon yurself" Her words come out faster - more slurred. Falling out faster and

faster as her hips do, "Not when you decided t-to act like a lil' slut hah- n'.

guess what?"

Whether it was a rhetorical question or not - you weren't sure. All you know is that you're mewling up tearily at such a feral bada, "W-what?" To which she only smiles against your lips, hips suddenly going still. "N' that means m'gonna fuck you like one."

Before you can even react, she's pushing in all in one go. Fuck, it never got easier even after so long.

"Oh- fuck l can't take it- all-"you cry helplessly as she keeps pushing past that first ring of resistance. The curve of her cock massaging all those hidden sweet spots inside while she keeps splitting you apart deeper and deeper - not

daring to even slow down. Not until badas well satisfied with the kiss of your bruised cervix against her thick head ,heavy balls smacking against your marked-up ass.

"See? Knew you could take it,"

And then she's moving - not with the slow, persistent determination from before, no. bada was so animalistic, bouncing you unapologetically on the floor.

Hands keeping your hips still to let her ram hef entire cock inside your tight pussy. Over and over . bada  runs a hand through her  hair to see you better, to drink in the sight of your puffy folds bulging around her cock. Struggling to take in each mean thrust.

"Because this seems ngh- reeeeal convincing that you are."

You scrunch your brows in a pathetic plea, "I-am yours, bada-

The both of you were getting so sloppy now. No care or concern for the party still raging on outside, not when your gummy walls were sucking up bada's aching cock like that.

"No one ngh- can fuck you like this." bada sucks on your lower lip. Ragged, ike it pained her to keep talking, but she couldn't stop anyway.

"No one." You Milking her harder and harder like she was high off your sweet moans. More desperate - depraved. "Cuz m'yours," and she repeats that - into your lips, into your forehead, down your neck - over and over while you cum so fucking hard all on her swollen cock. Plushy walls

squeezing so tight that it was almost difficult to fuck you through your high.

Ripping out strangled, raspy groans with each clench of your slutty cunt, "N' you're mine." You think your vision gets hazy through your climax, and the only thing you can hear are those obscene squelches and bada's voice. Like

a mantra, "You're mine- you're mine you're mine you're mine- fuck you're mine." Not straying too far behind, bada cums and she thinks she sees the pearly gates of heaven - with you, such an angel.

So sweetly whining into her ear when she's painting your walls white, pumping rope after rope of thick, hot cum into your awaiting pussy. Blinking back her vision only to eye the way it overspills, dribbling down your slit with each harsh ram of her hips.

"Wan' go again-" bada groans. Only fucking her seed deeper and deeper and oh- she didn't want to stop. Didn't think she could stop with the way you were bringing out each and every single last drop like it was delicious. "F-fuck I

needa go again.

[nostalgebraist]

Thanks for this thoughtful review!

(BTW, for others – this is probably obvious but there are spoilers below the readmore, don't click unless you've read the book)

I'm going to use this as an opportunity to talk about one specific thing that bugs me about some reader reactions to my stuff. Therefore, most of what I say below will be negative (about your review), but I want to emphasize first that that's not a reflection of what I thought of it overall.

----

What I'm here now to talk about is this kind of thing:

There are parts of all his books, where I really think that the explanation for why they are the way they are is that they are "bad on purpose", and all the bullshit [note: in context "bullshit" seems to be meant as a neutral term for non-realist elements -nost] is a way of turning these shortcomings into strengths. The self-effacing voice which whispers that the characters aren't sufficiently well-drawn, are too cartoonish—well, what if that was the point? What if there was a reason for that, in the story?

And like... okay, there is sort of a sense in which this is true, sometimes, kinda. There is a grain of truth to this; it is getting at something real.

But it pains me to say that, because I don't want to encourage this kind of reading. Interpretations like this are occasionally correct but IMO they're much more common than they should be. IMO the right intuition is that this is a galaxy-brained, contrarian sort of take, a last resort you land on when you've ruled out everything else.

And not just with my work, with everything – I'm simply more aware of the problem when it comes to my work, because I wrote it and I'm aware of why I actually did things the way I did.

I've said this before, but watching the way that people react to my own fiction has been an eye-opening experience, one that has taught me things about reader (and viewer, etc.) reactions in general. Specifically, what I've learned was:

People's tastes are way more diverse than I had realized (before I started writing and sharing fiction). And they are diverse in a very fine-grained way; even if two readers have the same preferences about 90% of stuff, or 95%, they'll still diverge on some things. While it's not literally true that "every reader is a unique snowflake with a preference set that no one else shares," that is a very good first approximation of how things are.

Readers (including me!) have been trained by a lifetime of reading book/movie/etc. reviews to frame their preferences/reactions in a pseudo-objective "this is just how it is" way, like their own tastes have some special viewpoint-independent priority, a quality of "reality" or "accuracy" lacking in everyone else's tastes (which are all different, cf. 1). And this is not just a stylistic quirk of the way people write about fiction, it actually (IMO) feeds back into the underlying opinions behind the written commentary. It degrades people's ability to understand what it is they're looking at and their ability to make accurate inferences about the process of its creation.

----

Here's a sort of cartoonish schematic of the type of experience that led me to draw these conclusions. (And I suspect this is not just a thing that happens to me, I imagine it happens with any sort of work that "contains a lot of different types of stuff" the way mine does.)

Writer makes something that has X and Y and Z in it. Writer thinks X/Y/Z are "great tastes that taste great together." Writer is very pleased with the result.

Reader 1 has similar tastes to writer, says something brief about how they loved the book and it's a new favorite for them.

Reader 2 loves X, is OK with Y, hates Z. They write a lengthy review saying that the book was a mixed bag and could have been great if the writer had stuck to X and not messed things up by doing so much Z.

Reader 3 is the reverse of their predecessor: they hate X, are OK with Y, love Z. They write a lengthy review saying that the book was a mixed bag and could have been great if the writer had stuck to Z and not messed things up by doing so much X.

Reader 4 loves X and Z – but they hate Y. They write a lengthy… you can fill in the rest. Imagine a whole bunch of these guys (readers 5, 6, etc).

Reader 17 has the same tastes as Reader 2: loves X, is OK with Y, hates Z. But their lengthy review takes a different, in some sense "more charitable" angle, speculating that the inclusion of Z was a load-bearing pillar in the overall structure, a thing that unfortunately had to be included to "unlock" all that sweet sweet X.

Reader 18 has the same tastes as Reader 3: hates X, is OK with Y, loves Z. But, they explain, X was a load-bearing pillar in the overall structure, a thing that unfortunately had to be included to "unlock" all that sweet sweet Z.

Writer reads all these reviews and feels strange, dizzy. The "nicer" reviews like 17 and 18 are actually more uncomfortable to read than the "meaner" ones like 2 and 3.

"I don't know how to convince you guys," Writer thinks, "but I... I just liked all of it? I thought it was good? That was why I wrote it? (Why else would I have written it?)"

----

Or, as I wrote in that previously linked post from 2021, w/r/t TNC specifically (and making a slightly different but closely related point):

Some people say X was the worst part of TNC, some people say X was the best part. The story was a celebration of Y; the story was about how Y is laughably futile. It’s a letdown that we were never told more about Z; the reason TNC is good is that it leaves stuff like Z to the imagination. It was obvious we were meant to believe P; it is obvious we were meant to believe not-P; the ambiguity about whether P is tiresome literary masturbation; at least the story didn’t jump the shark by spelling out whether P! The reason people like TNC is, of course, that it has A, although nostalgebraist insisted on putting B in there too because he hasn’t fully perfected his formula yet / he somehow thinks B is good even though it isn’t / he thinks it’s funny how bad B is (but the joke tires). …and then someone else has same take, but with A and B flipped.

This exact sort of thing is of course happening again before our eyes with reactions to TAoHS.

I've encountered multiple readers who disliked most of the story but felt the ending (sort of) "redeemed it," and I've also encountered multiple readers who liked the story up until the ending but disliked the ending (or at least thought it was worse than the rest) – to say nothing of the many readers who liked (or disliked) the whole thing all the way through.

And this ending-related stuff is just one particularly obvious facet of a broader diversity in the overall reader response.

By now I know not to be surprised by this stuff, and even to find it kind of fun to watch... but I have to admit, it is still a dizzying and uncomfortable experience.

----

Now, as I said, it is sometimes true that things really are "bad on purpose."

But I think the interpreter's default hypothesis – which should be maintained by default unless convincing evidence against it can be brought forth – should be:

The writer thinks that the thing they wrote is good. They think the ideas are good and they think they executed them well. And they think this more-or-less homogeneously for everything in the work – there are no "bad but unfortunately necessary" parts from the writer's POV.

(At least, this should be the default with works that aren't making the writer much/any money. Obviously things are different with lucrative commercial fiction; there are plenty of well-paid hacks who know they're hacks and do it for the money, etc.)

Why should this be the default? Multiple reasons.

First: it takes a lot of effort to produce any sort of creative work. The writer thought that effort was worthwhile, for some reason – why?

The most straightforward explanation (and a very common one IMO) is that the writer simply believed in the thing that they were making. They believed the effort was worthwhile because it would yield a good product.

Second: as a writer you have an immense amount of freedom. It's difficult to overstate the extent of it. You are playing God, you decide the way that literally everything will be.

Obviously there are some constraints, cases where one part of a story will imply the existence of another or whatever.

But it's very rare that you actually get forced into "doing a thing you know you are bad at, badly." After all: why do that? No one's forcing you! Just do something else! You're God, you control everything!

(Note that this applies also to the very act of writing anything. No one is forcing you to write at all. If you can't come up with good ideas, nothing prevents you from just not writing your bad ones.)

Third: at least in my experience, "playing God" in this way requires a certain state of mind, a certain boldness and self-assurance, which is incompatible with thinking "yeah this is gonna suck but I have to do it" – but is very compatible with thinking "I am making something excellent and every part of it is excellent, hell yes."

Fourth: because of the previously noted diversity of reader preferences, it should not be surprising to any given reader that they find some parts of the work much better than others, even if the writer thought it was all excellent.

This outcome is predictable from the X/Y/Z stuff I talked about above. No clever interpretive work is required to explain it; it arrives pre-explained; it's simply what happens by default.

And finally: because, as I noted above, I think all of us are infected with "reviewer brainworms" and we need to be mindful of this fact.

(Just to be clear, I am not accusing OP of being more infected with said brainworms than anyone else; I'm still on my soapbox, giving a generic rant about a general issue, with OP as merely a jumping-off point.)

We've grown accustomed to the casual conflation between our own tastes and some (usually hazily imagined and under-theorized) sort of "objective, ideal artistic standards."

Outside of a few edge-case eccentrics who can be ignored for my present purposes, we do not do this because we've become intellectually convinced that

(a) such objective standards make sense and really "exist" or at least really matter and

(b) they just so happen to match our own preferences.

Rather, we've fallen into this habit because it's what the pros do: there's a standard style that professional critics and reviewers write in these days, and that style implies these stances. And if one writes (and thinks, in one's inner monologue) in this style, one can easily fall over backwards into uncritically believing (a) and (b) for no better reason than "I seem to already be talking as though I believe these things, hence it would be simple and convenient if I really did believe them."

But – even if we bracket the philosophical questions of whether (a) is in fact true, and (if it is) whose tastes in particular ought to be elevated in the way (b) presumes – even if we table all that for another day, still we ought to keep in mind how weird and audacious a move this is, this simultaneous assertion-without-explanation of the (a)+(b) pair.

We've gotten used to it by exposure, because "the pros" have normalized it. But in actual fact it is a pretty wild thing to just go and assume, given the X/Y/Z/etc. diversity of actual opinion!

If (b) is true for you (general "you" not OP), then it can't be true for me, because we're both unique snowflakes to a first approximation; indeed if (b) is true for you then (to a first approx.) it is only true for you. No one else's tastes have this magical relation to reality, just yours.

Holding the belief (b) about a given reviewer is conceivable-but-wild if we're only considering them in isolation. But once we bring a 2nd reviewer (with non-identical tastes) into the picture, who also believes (b), it's literally impossible to maintain that both of these people are fully right.

And then of course in real life there are not 2 but many, many readers out there, all of them unique snowflakes. And, while it is socially normal in our social context for each one of them to write like they're the chosen one blessed with that special (b)-magic, if you read enough such writing and actually think about what you're reading, it can't help but feel like a sort of game, like playing make-believe. As with most games, it can be very entertaining (for all parties involved), but we shouldn't confuse its amusing conceits for properties of the real world.

In the real world, the writer has their tastes, and you have yours. These tastes are probably not identical. The writer may be aware of the diversity of readerly tastes, and may thus be aware that tastes like yours are out there, but they have no special reason to consider you in particular, elevating you above all the other readers who are non-identical with them (and with you). The writer is dimly and abstractly aware of you, at best, as just another one of the people who will come along later, dislike some of their choices, assume that these choices were wrong in some "objective" way the writer knew about at the time, and then speculate as to why the writer would do something they know is wrong. For every choice, and every way of making every choice, one can imagine a reviewer who responds to it in this way, and quite often these reviewers actually materialize once the work is available for consumption. If you try to reason about these guys in advance, as a writer, it'll stop you in your tracks (if nothing else because there are 2+ of them whose takes are mutually incompatible). You've gotta have some other standard of value to rely on.

So, as a reviewer, if you ask "why would someone ever make a choice I don't like?" and try to pick at this question, you are quite likely heading toward a dead end. The writer wasn't thinking about you (or people like you). They were applying their own, distinct standard of value.

Better to ask: "suppose there was a person who actually liked all of this. What would they be like? How would they be similar to me / different from me? And what, if anything, can I conclude from that?"

The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen

My fourth novel, The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen, is now available in full.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

[moongothic]

Madoka is the promise you won't turn from a child, full of hopes and dreams and the wish to save the world, into a bitter adult who just wants to hurt others and ruin people's lives

Madoka promised to be there for you to remind you of the person you wanted to be and to stop you from becoming what you sought to destroy

Madoka made that promise and became the very embodiment of it

[gopher-jade]

just watched the episode where naruto meets minato, and. idk if it's because i completely skipped the battle beforehand & therefore tense battle atmosphere or if i'm just older and more resentful now, but.

if i were an orphan who had no adult guardian most of my life and had to fight for respect, and then train my butt off to survive because my dad sealed a fucking wanted monster inside of me, and then said dead dad said "😀 i did it because i believe in you. you're my son after all. idk how you're going to solve the systemic problems of our world but i blindly believe in you because that's what parents ought to do". i think i would have puked and also aimed at his shoes.

[funkle420]

some of the things I've learned in the Adventurer's Bible are so chilling... really drives home the fact that this is a completely different world with medieval-like stuff going on. I'm especially chilled by what Laios and Falin said about the "mountain people"...

[yveni]

I was talking to a friend about Lockwood & Co, she hasn’t watched or read it, but she noticed I have been tweeting about it. I vaguely explained to her the whole situation of it being cancelled plus the campaign to save it and she seemed really surprised that it was cancelled. According to her, she’s constantly seeing TikToks about it and the trending hashtags on twitter (day 68 today guys), so she’s like completely sure that the campaign is getting enough attention for it to get picked up again.

Idk, I think hearing an outsiders perspective really encouraged me, so I thought I’d share it here too.

[arsenicflame]

thinking about how all the rest of blackbeards crew had left by the time stede found the revenge

thinking about how ed was laid out in such a respectful way, like he was someone wanted to mourn

thinking about even after all he said, after mutinying on him, izzy could never really leave ed

thinking about how after all he did for them, all he lost, our crew couldn't leave him either

[lanadel-heyyy]

i was so normal when someone brought up the beekeeper at a party today

[dysaniadisorder]

i hate how normalized military is in the us im gonna rip my hair out

[no1ryomafan]

I finished big o like a year ago but never went back to the manga-I really should-yet it’s still taken up so much space in my brain not only just because of how much of a unique mecha it is while still staying true to the genre but for the crazy ass shit the end of the show drops on you and id love to make a post about my interpretation of the ending cause ive thought about it a lot but the issue is even if i know most of my posts go over peoples heads and i can just put “big o spoilers don’t read if you haven’t finished/want to see it” at the top so people don’t accidentally read it I really don’t know how to DESCRIBE the twist.

Like this shit really makes getter being a cosmic horror be such a casual and normal statement in comparison which is something I never thought could be top given two of the major anime’s end with one or more of our protagonists going to fuck off land.

But at least I can tell you that happened where as big o it’s like “what the FUCK did I just witness what do you mean ITS ALL FAKE” and that’s as far and vague as I can go without spoiling it completely.