#in fact it leads to interesting discussions!

[holy-mother-of-whumpers]

I'd like to explain why I disagree.

Disclaimer.

I have not been around TikTok stuff so I have no idea what is this against. Maybe I'd agree with them against it, but just don't know. All it follows is NOT against the book tok culture but just a polite disagreement of this post or what it made me think about.

This is not about booktok

"If someone told me... There is an enemy to lovers... Why are you spoiling the story?" -> spoiling is bad and marking the tropes is spoiling.

Spoiling is bad.

Spoiler works on some kind of content, like Marvel, which is a lot of surprise value and 'disposable' stories. If the narrative is good a spoiler (provided it isn't about the plot twist) doesn't decrease the enjoyment but enhances it (there is a whole thing, may even be called spoiler effect? Spoiler paradox?).

If spoiling or knowing the content would ruin things, there wouldn't be classics. Nobody would read LOTR, dracula, the Iliad/Odyssey, Count of Monte Cristo. Yes there are always going to be people who come at it free of previous knowledge, which is great for them, but usually people are aware of the story bits (like that the suspicious count in Dracula is in fact a vampire - I knew that and yet the book was an absolute blast, very suggested! It even got me trying epistolary novel as a format) and read it anyway. More, they read it because they kinda know what they are getting into.

So no, not all spoiling is intrinsically bad, in fact nobody would read a story they know nothing about. I'd say the trick is to 'spoil' the setting and the character dynamics... Just NOT something the author was playing as a reveal. Of course at this point we shouldn't even use 'spoil'.

What can we call the setting and character dynamics?

Marking the tropes is spoiling.

We can call them tropes and genres, they are broad characterizations that help people have an idea of what they are getting into. We all prefer a few genres.

What if we were allowed to prefer a few tropes as well, or just be free to avoid those we don't like?

The entire discussion that happened about fantasy romance (before it had a name) was that people got into what they thought it was fantasy but ended up with just romance, with basic characterization, minimal world building, no intrigue or epic battle between good and evil. It was very unsatisfying; so more classification of the book is better than less (with common sense, nor I nor anybody else wants a list of every single thing that's in there).

'Classification' as in to guide to to find the book you like or to let you know if you want to try something different than usual or again, you found a trope you never knew (like me with the reincarnation trope in webtoons) and you want to proceed and eat that in copious amounts until you have wrung every last bit of serotonine/dopamine from it.

If you don't want to know, you should be allowed to know where the trope markers are, so to avoid and go in blind (like I do with movies I know I'm interested in: I just don't watch the trailer. A legit choice I'm allowed to make and happy because of it).

Conclusion: if you think marking a trope is spoiling, they probably did it wrong, because it shouldn't. It should be supposed to give you an idea, so you aren't buying a book for the pretty cover.

Note! From fanfiction to published books it would be a good idea to use warnings, to some extent - I'd love to skip historical novels with gratuitous sa because it's 'realistic'... At this point it's its own trope which I'd like marked so I can avoid it. I have had enough of it ok. No hate but I want to keep away.

I'd like also a protagonist marker, examples, Reluctant Protagonist (no hate, just dislike) or pov protagonist (especially in fantasy romance so I know they aren't going to do anything and we are admiring together the brooding tragic-backstoried main lead).

Saying: 'I am annoyed by this thing' is legit and I support presenting narratives in a way that allows people to choose how much to know about it. Like a general summary behind, a tropes list inside the cover (or something) for those looking for the tropes. Saying 'you can't use fanfiction terms' is incorrect, tropes aren't fanfiction terms, and wrong in the 'you', because 'you' (publishing industry?) should cater to people taking into account that different people want different things and consume the book in different ways, nobody should be forced to consume a book any other way that the one makes them happy :)

Second post.

Again, I don't know about booktok so I'll keep to "encourages authors to built their entire story around marketable tropes [...] turn more of a profit".

The placing (<- marketing term) of a book on the market is hella hard ok. Like, so much. Very often what makes a book great is subtle, hard to explain, and people have a short attention span anyway. Building a story around a trope may be a bad idea, but many writers start the story around a image or a scene floating in their mind, all stories are Bron from an idea. Tweaking the core idea to a marketable trope make the author sell. "Turn more of a profit" yes?? Yes please??? Begging here??? If I have spent like the last five years working on this story I want people to a) find it interesting (thus I am brought to play on the main tropes in there) and b) make money out of it. I worked on that story for the last five years. Am I so evil to think I want a revenue so I can focus on my next book instead of doing so in scraps of times in this capitalistic hellscape? Yes I want the money so I can do what I want with my life and time (writing in this case) and give people meaningful stories.

If the trope-marketed story isn't meaningful I'm afraid the problem is the writer didn't care for it - which leads to another entire can of worms, kinda related (writing for the money and not for the story is an unfortunate rotten compromise for people who need money and can write but aren't paid enough to afford the time for a proper story).

So: writing a story around tropes is bad if it's demanded from the publisher like this, and with limited time to develop it, because it's what is popular now.

Using the tropes inside the book to market it, is just how you market a book. Who never ran into a great book which never got the popularity it deserves? It's because it was marketed wrong, or unsuccessfully.

Again placing and marketing a book is HELLA hard and often it's what makes it or breaks it for the book itself, even more than the content.

Let's cut authors a break on this ok (lol we can harass publishing companies though, just a little tee hee).

Third post

Do you know I actually dislike long posts??? How did I get here. Ah yes, frustration.

Why is fanfiction considered easier. 'cheaper' narrative?

Because you already know and care about the characters. Making people love our little guys is also rather hard.

If it works you will end up caring though, and people will put them in Coffee au.

This third post seems to misunderstand what tropes are. Characters are kinda always in a trope. You know that joke, after reading the vocabulary all books area remix? Tropes are how we categorize stuff happening in books (technically the recurrent things, but once we have given a name to all thing (and we have actually) everything is low key recurrent). Yes it often devolves into cliches, when a trope is cheap and obvious and kinda gratuitous. But they are 'places' where the characters are.

I, a living person, am always in some place or 'surroundings' since I am made of matter which occupies a space surrounding me. A trope is the surroundings of the characters.

You can made to care about original characters in a coffee shop, like if you are reading a cozy (example) and slowly get to know the people meeting for coffee.

The post seems to suggest that characters in books exist outside tropes. Not really. But also not a crime, I hope I explained politely why I disagree.

Why should you care for some randos meeting in a coffee shop? Well, if this is a book, consider it an essay explaining you exactly that ✨

More disclaimers.

Again, this isn't about booktok

This isn't against the publishing industry, if you have critics of them I'll probably agree.

If you take one of the things I said to the extreme to make it absurd, that is cheap, argumentative and I will ignore you. Same if you warp something away from what I meant, or your reply is based on an incorrect knowledge of this stuff, or you are just being provocative for the sake of it. Be polite and chill people.

Sorry it’s early but you really can’t use fanfiction terms in a non fanfiction context like if someone is trying to sell me a book to read and they tell me there’s an enemy to lovers I would be annoyed because why are you spoiling the story lol

[starlvcied]

₊˚⊹♡ rin itoshi x f!reader " FRAMED RIVALRY " CHAPTER 002

in which your academic rival, aka the captain of the soccer team, sneaks his way into the photography club with you. ꨄ︎ CHAPTER 002

cw: swearing (a lot) , rin definitely needs therapy wc : 1.8k

if someone had told you a week ago that rin itoshi would willingly join the photography club, you wouldve laughed in their face. yet here he is, showing up to every meeting like he belongs, sitting in on discussions, and most annoying– actually being good at it. 

it doesnt make sense. rin is the the type to dismiss anything that doesn't revolve around soccer, the kind of person that scoffs at having to do anything that doesnt serve his ambitions. but every time you try to pry into his real motives, he gives you the same flat responses.

“i told you, i just like photography.” or–

“can you piss off?” or–

“mind your fucking business, lukewarm.”

but noone else seems to question it. the club members welcome him in without hesitation (except for livvy and daria, who you specifically warned to stay the hell away from him), is probably more impressed by the fact that the soccer captain is even acknowledging their existence. it gets on your nerves, especially when people start treating him like he’s some kind of prodigy. well, he sorta is– but thats besides the point.

“he’s a fast learner,” daria comments as you all review recent shots on the clubs computer. “look at this framing– i cant believe he did that.”

you barely glance at the image before skipping them with a scoff. “anyone can take a decent picture with the right settings. he’s just copying the techniques i already explained to him.”

rin, whos leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. he doesnt even react to your dismissiveness. “jealous?” he asks, his voice as indifferent as ever. 

you slowly turn around, facing him with a scowl. “of you? not a chance.”

“well thats not a pretty face.”

it becomes a pattern. rin attends every meeting that doesnt get in the way of his practice or his games, participating just enough to remain involved, and occasionally throws in dry, insulting comments at you and your clubmates, mostly you, made to push your buttons. and unfortunately, it works. you’d expect him to lose interest within days, to get bored and drop the act. but he doesnt.

and thats what bothers you the most.

you dont usually mind morning classes. if anything, you enjoy them– mostly due to most of the students being too tired to be rowdy, so mornings at your school are pretty peaceful. but that was before rin itoshi started making them unbearable.

ever since the debate project forced you to work together, things have only escalated between you two. its like a silent war– every test, every assignment, every question posed by the teacher turns into an unspoken battle for dominance.

and neither of you are willing to lose.

so when your first period teacher walks in, announcing an impromptu quiz, you already know exactly where this is headed. you get a glance at rin through your peripheral and find that he was already looking at you. obsessed freak. 

“i’ll be grading these on the spot,” the teacher says, handing out the papers. “no multiple choice– explanations are required. show your reasoning.”

you glance to your left once more, where rin is already twirling that stupid ballpoint pen between his fingers, the epitome of nonchalance. but you know better. you can feel the competitive energy radiating off of him.

the moment the papers hit your desk, it begins. you dont even bother writing your name, nor the date, nor the period.

the only sound in the room is the scratching of pens against paper. you work quickly but precisely, mapping out each answer with clear, logical steps. you’re writing harder than usual, your lead breaking a few times, and your palm begins to burn. you refuse to give rin the satisfaction of finishing before you.

a flicker of movement catches your eye. rin shifts slightly in his seat, leaning forward as he writes, his stroke sharp and decisive. he’s fast. too fast. it reminds you of how he acts on the field.

you grit your teeth. hes rushing. that has to be it. theres no way hes double checking his work at that pace. (unless he doesnt have to. maybe he is as perfect as he presents himself to be.)

your pencil moves faster.

you finish just as rin sets his pen down.

both of you look up at the same time, locking eyes.

theres a moment of intense silence. then, without a word, you both flip your papers over and slide them toward the edge of your desks, waiting for the teacher to collect them.

the rest of the class finishes at a normal, more human pace– less like a factory machine. but you and rin remain frozen in place, the unspoken competition still lingering between you.

the teacher grades quickly, making occasional sounds of both approval and disapproval. you watch as she pauses at rin’s paper (you knew it was his because you had already memorized his stupid handwriting, and got a glance at the moment she picked it up). her eyebrows lifted slightly before marking something. then she gets to yours, tapping her pen against the desk thoughtfully before moving on.

finally, she returns her focus back to the class. “excellent work from most of you,” she says, “but per usual, our top scorers were neck and neck.” 

you sit up straighter. rin remains still.

the teacher glances between the two of you, lips quirking slightly, as if she finds this amusing. “one of you scored 100%. the other, a 99.”

your breath catches.

you whip your head toward rin at the same time he looks at you. his expression is unreadable, but you could see it in his eyes– hes waiting.

the teacher places the papers down on her desk. “the perfect score goes to…” she paused. you felt as if she was creating suspense on purpose. she finally flips one over, revealing the name scrawled at the top.

and to your surprise, its not yours.

for a second, you just stare at it. the weight of that single point settles uncomfortably in your chest, and embarrassment bubbles in your stomach.

slowly, you turn to look at him. he’s not smirking, not outright gloating, but theres a flicker of triumph in his expression. the way his lips press together, the way his fingers drum lightly on the desk as if to say, i win.

you inhale sharply. one point. you lost by one point.

it shouldnt bother you this much. its just a quiz. its not like this is the first time one of you has beaten the other.

but it does bother you– no, it enrages you.

so when the teacher move’s on, discussing the correct answers, you lean slightly toward rin and mutter, “enjoy your fuckin’ moment. this wont happen again.”

he doesnt look at you, but the corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “thats not very head of the student council of you.”

that stupid fucking smirk made you want to strangle him and leave him to the rats. you pursed your lips before responding, your tone the opposite of polite. “shut up, dickwad.”

he didnt seem to take it to heart. all he gave was a simple eye roll and a breathy laugh, if you could even call it that. “sounds like someones mad they lost.”

and just like that, the war continues.

rin itoshi is an annoyingly fast learner. 

that much becomes obvious after only a few days in the photography class.

youd hoped he would get bored, that the frustration of being a beginner would drive him a way. but rin treats photography the same way he treats soccer or school– like a challenge. and rin doesnt lose.

which means hes actually trying.

and, worse– he’s getting better.

you watch as he crouches low, camera in hand, adjusting his focus with practiced precision. as of right now, the photography club was taking pictures while the student government set up the school to become more valentine's day themed. currently, you had rin practice by taking a photo of a boy hanging up heart-shaped decor on the walls. he clicks the shutter, barely pausing before reviewing the shot.

you dont want to admit it, but the composition is good. the depth of field is balanced, and the framing naturally draws the eye to the subject.

he stands, his frame towering over you as he turned the camera toward you. “better?”

you tilt your head, pretending to scrutinize. “..its fine.”

rin frowns slightly. “thats what you said last time.”

“maybe you’re just ‘fine’ at this.”

his lips press into a thin line. “lukewarm critique.”

you roll your eyes. “you want real critique?” you snatch the camera from his hands and point at the screen. “your subject placement is predictable, your angles are too rigid, and you rely too much on symmetry. it looks… controlled.”

rin raised an eyebrow. “and thats a bad thing?”

“its a safe thing.” you lift your own camera. “photography isnt just about control. Its about instinct, feeling natural. feeling the shot instead of just calculating it.

rin doesnt look convinced. “feeling doesnt win anything.” 

“tell that to every award winning photographer literally ever.” you step past him, snapping a picture without even looking through the viewfinder. then you turn the screen toward him. “see?”

rin stares at it for a moment, then exhales through his nose. “so youre saying i should just take random pictures instead? thats stupid.”

you roll your eyes again. “i’m saying you should stop treating this like a competition.”

he gives you a look that is so blatantly unimpressed that it makes your blood boil. “you think im competing with you?”

you stare at him. is he fucking serious?

rin doesnt react. no denial, no confirmation. he just watches you with that same impassive expression, teal eyes unreadable. then he tilts his head slightly.

“or maybe i just like photography.”

the way he says it– so deliberately, so casually– makes you want to shove your camera down his throat and watch him choke to death.

instead, you step closer, voice low. “say that again with a straight face.”

rin blinks. then, like the shitty little menace he is, he repeats with a deadpanned expression. “maybe i just like photography.”

you swear he’s fucking with you.

the moment is cut short– the bell. the club members begin packing up, and rin, as usual, moves on as if nothing happened. you watch as he slings his camera strap over his shoulder, leaving without another word.

and you– you are left standing there frustrated beyond belief. 

because of the rivalry.

because he’s improving too fast.

and because you're starting to believe he’s damn near perfect, and you hate it.

what does this mean for you?

001<< >>003

i got lazy w this so its kinda bad sorry!! also i dont know jack shit abt photography lol just roll with it.

tags: @mixolya @x3nafix @rinniebinniebay @levihanmyotp @anqelkoz @megumismyhusband @aisqka

[midnight-mourning]

The Thought That Counts

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 10💘💘

This one was super interesting for me as someone who's ace to sit and think about, shout out to the aroaces, this one is for you, little hurt/comfort just because that's what i was feeling

Prompt: Sun and Moon discussing with an Aroace yn why they dislike romance? Or maybe just watching some really bad romcoms on a horrible day

Word Count: 1753

Read here if you prefer ao3!

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The sound of happy love songs has started to grate on you recently, you're not going to lie. You get maybe like, a couple days worth, but all week long feels a bit, excessive. Not to mention the barrage of lovey dovey advertisements, decorations, and so on you've seen everywhere you've went.

Sure, it all wasn't intentionally done to annoy or make you uncomfortable, but sometimes it certainly felt like it. 

As you walk into the Daycare for work, you do your best to ignore it as per usual. Today would hopefully be the last day—since it was Valentine's, after all—and then you could go back to living in peace. 

Again, it wasn't necessarily a hate for the holiday, rather it was just a general discomfort. Not typically feeling, if ever at all, attraction for other people just made you feel like you were getting pressured into a game everyone else was playing. Except for you that is. 

It just wasn't your holiday, and that was fine, you just simply wished others would see it that way too. Instead of having to constantly be on edge if you said the wrong thing about not wanting the persistent reminder that you don't fit inside the box everyone else puts you in. 

It was a bummer, and it hurt quite a bit. Losing friendships and the likes in certain cases. Just because of the fact you didn't experience the world the way they did. 

But, you'd deal with it. Just like you've always done. 

If you could, that is. 

Unfortunately, your favorite coworker(s) had made it a bit difficult to keep your head down and avoid like you typically did. 

Valentine's was their favorite holiday—though, you think they said that with every holiday—and thus they had to go all out for it. 

Every inch of the Daycare was covered head to toe with decorations, streamers and paper hearts covering every surface. Instead of the Daycare theme, age appropriate love songs played through the speakers up above softly, adding to the overly love-filled atmosphere. 

For them, you were sure it was great, exactly the vision they had in mind. For you, it was just, too much. 

But the decorations and the music weren't the problem. Unfortunately, it was Sun and Moon themselves causing the 'issues' you were dealing with. 

All week long they'd been leaving little things for you to find throughout the play area. Little handmade cards with endearing notes. Paper roses folded neatly by your belongings. 

It tore you up inside, mainly because you knew what this all was leading up to, and you were almost dreading having to tell them. It wasn't that you didn't care for them. You really, truly did. A lot. So much. 

But not like that. Not at this point, that is. Sure, maybe it was possible, but at the current moment, the idea of such just made you feel, off. 

So when Sun came up to you near the middle of your shift, something hiding behind his back, you already had a guess as to what it was. 

Before he said anything, he seemed to pause, almost deflating upon getting closer to you. 

You speak first, trying to keep your tone light. "Everything alright, Sunny?"

"Of course, Sunbeam!" Still, he keeps his hands behind his back. "But, is everything alright with you?"

You nod with a smile. "Of course. I'm just a little tired is all."

"Oh... are you sure? You've seemed a bit, upset all week long. Would you... like to talk about it?"

Your brows raise, both in surprise and in fear that you'd been found out. "I, no, that's okay! It's not um, something I really want to talk about right now."

"Right. Of course." He steps back, then another, then turns around but manages to keep whatever he was holding hidden from you. "Well, enjoy your break, friend!" 

He walks off then, before you can stop him, and your heart sinks a bit. 

The rest of the day proves to be, incredibly stressful. The party for the kids goes great, but it leaves you with a terrible disaster to clean up. It sours your mood more than you expected, especially after finding the mess of glitter glue hiding underneath one of the tables, you spend nearly thirty minutes scrubbing on your hands and knees to get it cleaned up. And when you emerge you remember all the rest of the clean up you still have to do, stressing you out even further.

With a sigh and a stretch to crack your back, you trudge over to where the trash is and deposit the used paper towels into it. You turn around to get back to work, but are shocked to find Sun standing there, looking a bit cheered up compared to your last 'official' conversation earlier. 

"Hello Sunshine!" 

You smile, tired. "Hi, Sun. Need something?"

"It's not what I need, but rather, what you need, friend." He pokes your chest once, rays spinning. "I have a little surprise for you. If you'll accept." 

Your brow furrows. This seems a bit different than earlier, so you're curious. "Oh?"

"Yup! Now come on!" He takes both your hands and starts pulling you out of the Daycare, heading in the direction of the theater, you in tow. 

You don't protest physically, too tired and stressed—as you quickly realize—but do speak up about it. "Woah! What about cleanup?"

"Clean up can wait! You obviously don't feel well, and we need to fix that immediately!" Sun pushes open the theater doors with his back, leading you inside. "And Moon and I have just the thing for it."

After your eyes adjust to the lighting, you're surprised to see there's a film pulled up on the large screen, with a couple of beanbags and blankets piled near the middle of the room. There's a smell of popcorn in the air that makes your mouth water. 

Sun finally stops once you're over by the beanbags, pushing you to sit down in one, covering you with a blanket once you comply. He sets a bag of popcorn and a couple boxes of candies in your lap. When he's done he pats your head and sits down in a bean bag not too far from you. But you do note it's not his usual spot beside you, but you let it go as he claps his hands. 

His rays spin. "Ready to get started? This is just for you, but we went ahead and took the liberty of picking the first film."

"I, yeah, I guess so. Thank you guys, I uh, needed a break." You take a bite of popcorn and turn to look at the screen. "More than I expected—Is this 'Valentine's Day'?!" You almost choke from your laughter. 

"Of course! It seemed fitting, and the reviews we read were very passionate!"

You shake your head, settling in. "Passionate is the key word there, I think."

The film passes by quicker than you'd expect, chatting with Sun every so often to explain why the story makes you laugh so much, explaining what exactly a romcom is, and just in general decompressing from the day. 

They let you pick the next one—with Moon getting to be out to watch this time instead—and you choose another classic bad movie, 'Bride Wars' to keep the theme up. 

Again with Moon though, he keeps his distance from you, settling in a respectable few feet away. Which, you did appreciate in the beginning, after being overwhelmed with the amount of in your face love-dovey stuff the past several weeks. But now, you're feeling, lonely. 

About a quarter of the way into this movie, you decide to speak up, turning to your lunar companion. 

"Hey. What's going on with you guys today?" You ask, reaching a hand over to rest on his. 

Moon flinches, not making eye contact with you. "We're just, we thought, it doesn't matter. We don't want you to be uncomfortable with us, Star."

"Uncomfortable? With you?" You shake your head. "Never. I mean, yeah I was a little worried when—" You stop, realizing it's not helping as he shrinks in on himself. "I, let me explain, I guess."

Moon nods, and you sigh. 

"Romance, just, isn't my thing. Not usually, if ever. I just, I don't really get those feelings for other people. And when it gets constantly shoved down your throat, you start to realize how uncomfortable with it you actually are. Really uncomfortable. I just wanna be me and not feel like I have to be something I'm not, that I can't be." You shake your head again. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I can still feel attraction and the likes, and I, I care about you two a lot. Especially you two. But it's just, not like that? I want to be close with you, be around you all the time, I like your jokes, your teasing, talking to you, but the idea of romance, in general, just, gives me a bit of an ick sometimes, does that all make sense?" You lay back, running a hand through your hair. "I mean, I—I think I'm in love with you both, but not in the way that I have romantic feelings for you? Sorry this is a word vomit of an explanation I'm sorry—"

You feel arms wrap around you, pulling you up into a hug. 

Moon's voice is soft, just a murmur. "We're sorry."

"Moon, it's not on you—"

You can feel him shake his head against you. "Not that. We mean we're sorry you have to deal with that. It's not fair."

"Oh, yeah. I guess so."

He pulls back, hand resting on your cheek as he looks down at you. "We care about you too, a lot. It, doesn't have to be anything more than that. It's enough just to be able to say it. Does that make sense?"

"Y-yeah. It does. More than you know." You feel your face heat up, either from embarrassment or excitement at understanding. You bury your head against his chest. "And as for like, the gifts and stuff, that's still okay. They're still sweet, and they mean a lot. I promise."

Moon snickers. "Sounds like you just enjoy getting things."

"Not true! I really do like it! It's the thought that counts." You protest, now fully embarrassed. 

Moon hugs you a little tighter, humming. "I suppose it is."

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Thank you for the request @starspindle! It was interesting to tackle in that through writing I learned a bit about myself and my own indentity, plus i just enjoy writing hurt/comfort hehe ^^

My writing Masterpost

DCA Valentine's Masterpost

Tag list (if you would like added, simply say so!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzybee3

[aq2003]

[pulls up a chair w the director of 2015 rsc LLL] wait okay so what do YOU think love's labour's lost is about if you're, like, taking away the play's commentary on race and beauty standards and how that interacts with the wider "frivolity of romance" theme

[twilight0wanderer]

Special Interest Detected, Prepare for Incoming Infodump ;D (for context, I'm an aerospace engineer with one of my primary foci being orbital mechanics).

To start: all orbits are elliptical (circular orbits can sufficiently approximate some real orbits, but no truly circular orbit is known to exist). The center of mass of the two objects occupies one focus of the ellipse and the other is empty. Since most commonly discussed orbits involve a significant difference of mass between the two objects, we normally treat the larger object as being centered on the occupied focus, because it's close enough. (sidenote: we've known about elliptical orbits longer than we've understood gravity, thanks to Kepler)

@starburstdragon If I understand correctly, you're asking if the empty node of an orbital ellipse exhibits rotation about the occupied node, leading to the whole ellipse rotating. If that's what you're asking, then yes, that can and does occur, and it's called Apsidal Precession.

Sidenote on Precession: at least in orbital mechanics, the terms refers to the shifting of an ostensibly fixed reference axis, usually at a much slower rate than the rate of motion relative to the axis. As such, while Earth (and pretty much everything else) does experience axial precession, that's a wobble in the axis itself, while it's the axial tilt that creates seasons.

On to the question of seasons itself, and note here that I'm not a climatologist, so this is based on what I have studied of atmospheric science within the context of aerospace, what I've picked up on my own, and inferences based on those sources. Anyone with more expertise, please jump in. That said, I'm fairly certain that much of the cause of seasonality comes from the gradient in atmospheric temperatures over an extended period of time caused by axial tilt. A planet with little to no axial tilt, regardless of its eccentricity (basically how elliptical is its ellipse), isn't going to get much of a gradient between polar temperatures.

Another way to look at it is in terms of how much energy is the atmosphere absorbing. The Sun (and stars like it) release energy pretty much evenly, and that energy disperses quite evenly, to you can go to any point at a given distance from the Sun and get basically the same amount of energy as you would at any other point of equal distance from the Sun, as long as nothing is between you and the Sun. Also, the amount of energy the Sun emits means that the drop-off with distance even on the scale of the Earth isn't that significant. Satellites that orbit three times the Earth's diameter above its surface don't see much difference in the power generated by their solar panels, unless they pass through Earth's shadow. All of that to say, distance isn't the real driver of seasonality, it's the fact that the hemisphere facing the sun is absorbing more of the energy and blocking the hemisphere facing away from the Sun from getting as much energy.

Anyway, I now return you to your regularly scheduled Avatar discussion.

lowkey driving myself insane thinking too much about the lack of hemispheres in the original show and how the entire world is on the northern hemisphere season cycle except sometimes characters refer to the correct season of the southern hemisphere but then its not visually I just need to stop caring and CHANGE THE SEASON IN KYOSHI WARRIOR EPISODE

[notmeowse]

That AMA marks the end of Dragon Age.

In my opinion.

I'll start by saying that I have played all 3 of the previous games repeatedly, I've loved the series for 15 years, more than half my life. These games inspired me to become a writer and they've shaped a lot of my tastes and interests in shows and writing -- to say they were formative is kind of an understatement. Don't want to go on and on about how much I loved them, that's not the point here.

I didn't care for Veilguard for pretty much all of the reasons people have already discussed at length on Reddit and Tumblr. The writing is comprehensively bad, the romances are easily the worst Bioware has written by pure virtue of having the most cookie-cutter pacing and shallow characterization I've seen across their games, the lore has been shafted in every direction, and the nuanced storytelling and roleplay I came to expect from the series has been taken out back and shot in the head.

All, apparently, in the name of a "clean slate". It seems to me that, rather than familiarizing himself with the existing lore of the game he took the creative reins on, Epler clearly had a vision for Dragon Age (or perhaps a different IP entirely) in his head that he decided to transplant into the game (and possibly Trick? But they've said so little beyond defending their work that I can hardly theorize what direction they were coming from). That being a sanitized, wildly self-contradicting, morally absolute shitshow focused on distancing itself from the previous games as much as possible. Now, I know it's unrealistic to blame one person entirely, and I don't blame him entirely. Corinne was there. Trick was there.

But if it wasn't already evident from the numerous interviews Epler's given on the game as well as his participation in the Q&A's (while the actual lead writer of the game has been completely absent in not just the marketing, but in most fan-related interaction pre and post-launch outside of BSKY), this AMA seems to have confirmed, more than anything else, that Epler doesn't understand the game nor does he understand its audience. Neither does Corinne Busche, who despite being Game Director for only the last two years of development, has been answering lore questions a) like she has any fucking clue and b) like she thinks Dragon Age is a cozy-gamer IP, meant to appeal to people that want uplifting stories with uncontroversial characters, morally upright heroes, and unquestionably evil villains.

So as of today's AMA, I think I've finally had enough. We're just outright retconning the lore in Reddit AMA's now, I guess. Among other things. I'll provide a few examples, just so we're all on the same page.

This was part of Epler's response to why Solas didn't have his cult following in the game (insert "We Kind of Forgot" meme here):

Solas' experience leading the rebellion against the Evanuris turned him against the idea of being a leader. You see it in the memories - the entire experience of being in charge ate at him and, ultimately, convinced him he needed to do this on his own. And his own motivations were very different from the motivations of those who wanted to follow him - he had no real regard for their lives or their goals. So at some point between Trespasser and DATV, he severed that connection with his 'followers' and went back to being a lone wolf.

The fact that this (the not caring bit) directly contradicts the writing in the actual game is absolutely INSANE to me, moreso than the lack of Solas's spy network (which he apparently carried with him for 10 years only to conveniently drop right before the ritual? Because he clearly had them research Rook?). But in regards to the not caring -- here's a line from Solas's memory of killing Mythal in Veilguard, which. I'll get to Mythal in a minute:

Why should I not tear down the Veil, and bring back immortality to all the elven people? They deserve it!

Which is it? Does Solas care about the people he's saving (the venn diagram of people he's saving vs. the people following him is surely a circle, i.e. elves) or not? Does he even care about the spirits trapped behind the Veil anymore or is it just convenient to abandon them and have him only care about elves, now? What happened to saving The People? What happened to him not identifying as an elf in his conversations with a Dalish Inquisitor? And what the absolute fuck happened to him wanting to bring back the magical marvels (that the ancient elves did in fact achieve) that were greater than anything we see in Thedas today? Here's what Epler has to say about elven magic, now:

I do agree that the elves have had their place in the sun at this point. [...] The thing about the Evanuris is that, ultimately, they were able to take a very specific type of magic and shape it into doing what they wanted. But even their understanding of magic was only skin deep [...] Even the magic that Tevinter wields, the magic of the Southern mages, is different from what the Evanuris used. The magic of the Evanuris is powerful but it's sterile, and it's constrained. So while the Evanuris have made magic work in a way that's more predictable and understandable, it's not the only kind of magic out there, and even then, I'd say they understood it at a very surface level. People were confidently describing how the natural world worked back in the 16th century. Very few of them were right.

First of all, Tevinter has been stated in previous games to have clumsily adapted ancient elven magic for their own, but they did adapt it. To the point where even Solas is surprised that Corypheus achieved effective immortality -- by binding himself to a dragon the same way the Evanuris did. So, cool, more contradicting the lore here. "They understood it at a very surface level" you mean when all of the magic of the Fade wasn't locked behind the Veil? You mean when magic flowed freely through the world? What do you mean, Surface Fucking Level? The entire point of the Dalish elf culture is what they lost; this wasn't the ancient elves thinking the sun revolved around the earth, the Veil was their fucking Library of Alexandria burning. Oh my god. I still cannot believe he said this.

And how have the elves had their day in the sun? I'm sorry, was Arlathan not given to... the Veil Jumpers? Instead of the Dalish? What happened to all the Dalish clans in the south, who had no infrastructure when the world was apparently blighted to hell? I guess they're just gone now! They've had their day! The story of the Dalish and the Evanuris is over (also confirmed in this AMA), and it apparently ends with the final snuff of the candle that is their culture. Congratulations, Chantry, you've won! Only took two genocides and a double blight, but we're done with the Dalish now! We get your mind-numbingly superficial factions instead!

What happened to Mythal, by the way? What happened to "She was betrayed as I was betrayed, as the world was betrayed! Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged!" What happened to the reckoning that will shake the very heavens? John's answer to this:

People grow and change over time. Mythal's essence - and in particular, the fragment of her spirit that Morrigan carries, that she got from Flemeth - is not the same Mythal who he knew millennia ago. Centuries of living in this world and being around the kinds of people Flemeth found herself around - the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke, the Inquisitor - changed her views, and made her realize her own culpability in turning Solas into the kind of person he is now.

Oh, right, okay. So she was pissed for like a thousand years, got her big speech about the impending "reckoning" out 10 years ago, and then she just chilled out because the last 3 heroes were neat people. What a fucking joke. And yes, here is the confirmation that the Evanuris story is over --

The story of the Evanuris is done - the gods are dead (or imprisoned) and Thedas is in a state of flux and uncertainty. I imagine that whatever happens next is going to be a surprise to everyone, including the people of Thedas."

So I guess Mythal's reckoning is never coming. One of the most fascinating characters in the series, shrouded in mystery for those first 3 games, PROMISING US a blaze of glory, only to fizzle out in this one. Again, and I can't emphasize this enough, for Epler's clean fucking slate. And we've not just tied up her story, but also the Veil and the Blight:

When Solas bound himself (or, depending on your ending, was forcibly bound) to the Veil, it severed the connection that the Blight had to the waking world. The reality is that the Veil has been leaking ever since the Magisters first entered the Black City, and the dreams of the Titans gave it its terrible and awesome power. Now that the Veil is fully repaired, the Blight lacks that motive force, and being so close to the epicenter of that change has stripped the Blight in Minrathous of its vitality. It's calcified now - dead - and Bellara/Neve no longer suffer its effects. If they'd been anywhere else, further from that epicenter, it would've likely been different and they still would be looking for a cure.

So the Veil is permanently fixed now because our half-dead Dread Wolf bound himself to it (a decision I still don't understand) and that somehow fixed every single hole ever poked in it. Fully repaired. No more holes, no more "Veil is thin here" because tons of people died in the same spot, nope, we're washing our hands and leaving it (and the spirits) behind us because we've wrapped up both the series-long Veil storyline and the blight storyline in a big red bow.

And Epler tells us Solas not only bound himself to the Veil but fixed it entirely in one fell swoop, no ritual required, just a little slice to the hand. Again, all in the name of a clean slate, so any future installments or media centered around Thedas can turn away from this story.

Then there's this. What we can expect from future installments, I freaking guess. The aforementioned roleplay getting taken out back and shot:

Q: "What lead you to the decision to step away from active conversations with the companions as in previous Bioware games, where you can initiate them at any moment and ask exhaustive questions?"

John: "For us, because of tech limitations, it became a choice between exhaustive investigate conversations, or letting the companions move more freely around the Lighthouse. With the kind of experience we were going for, one where seeing the team grow around you is paramount, we felt that seeing them interact in common spaces (and in each other's rooms) made more sense."

Literally confirmed that they chose companions moving freely about the cabin over ... interacting with them outside the handful of cutscenes we got. Who in their right mind would think this was a good call in a Dragon Age game? A series that quite literally prides itself on complex character interactions and storytelling? So they could... sit in different places? Are you kidding me?

They don't see an issue with the game's reception. They don't have any interest in addressing or responding to criticism. They're either happy with their choices or EA's got a gun pointed at their heads, I'm honestly not sure anymore. I used to believe the latter was true, but looking at both Epler's and Busche's responses today, I'm inclined to believe the former.

So I think that's it for the series. Not that I thought it was going to get another game after this, but on the absolute off chance it did, what would be the point? The best stories were ruined. Anything left they have to tell is going to read a lot like Veilguard -- superficial, morally absolute, flagrantly disrespectful to the lore, and delivered in a very poorly written package.

[ochibrochi]

spontaneous magic manifestation was NOT mentioned in the parenting handbook 😬

I know this isn’t how magic in dc works, but the fact that Damian’s ancestry includes some pretty powerful magic users is… INTERESTING 🤔? Drabble under the cut!

I wanna preface that I'M NOT SAYIN' that Damian should/does have magic powers, but there’s still so much unexplored potential with Damian's character, and the thought that he has a dormant adeptness in magic is somewhat compelling to me. Most importantly it would FREAK! BRUCE! OUT!!!!! What is this, magic puberty 😭??

By DC laws, anyone has the ability to learn magic, but it is also possible to be an innate ability. The Al Ghuls are no strangers to the occult-- Ra's has had increasingly been portrayed as a magic user, and the recent establishment of his mother being a sorceress/witch?? Even Talia dabbled in a bit of magic, I think. There is a catch that their power is suggested to be due to Lazarus exposure, but for arguments sake let's say the Al Ghul lineage is inherently proficient in magic (and Lazarus exposure simply enhances it).

I can't recall "magic" being a part of Damian's training/upbringing (I'm still slowly catching-up on Damian comics so apologies if I miss any canon examples of magic use). Not sure why Talia wouldn't want her little "heir to an ancient assassin empire baby" to learn magic, but it would at least give reason to Damian not knowing about his magic potential, or lack of interest in it.

Through the power of pseudo storytelling, what if Damian's encounter with Mother Soul could have triggered a manifestation of magic that was once dormant; like a pressure cooker waiting to explode with energy when it hasn't been given a safe outlet.

I've yet to read a satisfying arc where Damian truly gets to contemplate his Al Ghul roots outside of "dad is good guy, mum is bad guy". Damian's initial character growth stems from him running away from, and renouncing his association with the League (i.e. "I'm nothing like you, mother and grandfather!").

The most recent thing I've read was Robin (2021), and whilst Damian is much more cordial with his mother, there's still an emotional distance and sense of distrust/resentment (for good reason, even if the context was some cartoonishly evil writing). But there is a silver-lining that they still appear to be fond of each other, in a melancholy kind of way.

Realizing he's "genetically" primed for magic would be especially confronting to Damian. There's no denying his Al Ghul blood, forcing him to confront a facet of himself he can no longer ignore or reject. A family that he likely has to approach for help/guidance.

Damian is put in a position of acknowledging this power could be used for good, to be stronger, to fight crime, balancing it with the implication that what he possesses could be rooted in dark magic (Lazarus enchantment).

If he decides to embrace it, would that be too much of an endorsement of the Al Ghul's dark occultism? Can he separate the two ideas? What if he can't control it? What if he accidentally hurts someone? What if has the ability to save someone where his other skills fall short?

Ideally, I'd love for this hypothetical story to lead into Damian exploring his Al Ghul heritage more intimately, historically, and spiritually (à la RSoB: Year of Redemption adventures). Another little coming-of-age self discovery journey.

I have my own little personal thoughts on what Damian decides to do with his magic powers, but I'd like to leave that open to interpretation... By the end of it I hope that he will at least find some forgiveness over resentment, and a balance between accepting that side of his family a little easier. It is finally a sense of inner peace :)

Any thoughts? Did I get any characterisation wrong? Let's talk over on my DC blog @arkhamochi! I'm currently trying to read all Damian-centric comics until I catch up with the current run. I'm hungry for discussion and analysis!!!!!!

[wcndrm]

divorced!dad!in-ho x student!fem!reader

just some thoughts about the possible life of in-ho if the games didn’t exist and he was the divorced dad of your roommate ; cw: age gap, sexual descriptions

divorced dad ! in-ho whose daughter, a friend of yours, is about to be your new roommate ; the two of you meet at the door of the apartment building where you’re going to be living for the next four years with his daughter. it’s early in the afternoon and you’re still in the outfit you wore to class today when you open the front door to welcome him. he’s nothing like you expected him to be. when your to-be-roommate texted you from work saying that her dad is going to stop by to drop some boxes with stuff for her you thought you’re gonna meet an average fifty year old grumpy man with tired eyes, scoffing and grumbling, but no… unexpectedly, you lay eyes on the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, elegant and alluring, and you end up just standing there all tongue-tied…

divorced dad ! in-ho who lets you know right away that he won’t take too much of your time, but politely agrees when you suggest to make him a cup of coffee. you quickly find out he’s intelligent, funny, well mannered man and divorced for over three years. he effortlessly makes you feel giddy through his charms meanwhile the way he’s not refraining from keeping his eyes on you has you fantasising… of being manhandled on top of the kitchen table, legs held up on his broad shoulders as his charmingly shaped lips work wonders at your clit. though his flourishing career and the fact his life is much fuller of interesting experiences than yours he swiftly brings back the attention on you with genuine appreciation and intrigue. “i want to hear more about you,” he says almost in a whisper as if he’s entranced by you. the way he can lead a discussion about literally anything while avoiding talking about himself for longer than necessary is refreshing as you’re used to obnoxious guys your age who use every chance they get to talk about themselves.

eventually, you decide not to ask questions about his ex wife, but it’s clear in-ho is enjoying attracting this type of attention again, especially from such a young girl. yes, he’s had experiences where much younger women have shamelessly flirted with him, but he was never interested enough in paying them attention; he’s never had a thing for such unabashed behaviour. with you it’s different; he likes the conversation, the spark in your gaze that keeps him engaged, that makes him want to stop time so he can study you more. the lust creeping up in your voice just enough to make his skin run hot. it’s all already enough to make him forget that you’re his daughter’s roommate… one of her friends…

divorced dad ! in-ho who succeeds at holding back from kissing you when you say goodbye at the door, but fails the next time he stops by to bring the last boxes with luggage. you’re too hard to resist and the devil on his shoulder won’t stop reminding him that if he doesn’t get his hands on you right there and then he’s going to regret it.

is it risky because you’re close friends with his daughter? yes. because of the big age gap between you that makes him seem like he could be your father? maybe. but those things turn the experience even more fun and intense. the secrecy as you lock the door, the rushed promises against your lips that his daughter mustn’t find out. and then… the best of all - his experienced touch electrifying your whole being as it combines with your high energy and sex drive; he knows exactly how to caress you, kiss you and how to make you scream for more. as if your body revealed all your secrets and needs to him the second he pulled you in his arms. his demeanour and the way he maintains full control of everything arouses you more than you thought it’s possible, however, you can see in his glossed over eyes that it’s been a while since he’s had sex - either at all, or just with someone who genuinely brings him immense pleasure. you can feel it in his rough wet kisses with little bites in between; in his thrusts, crashing against you greedily as if this is something he’s been dreaming of… last but not least, in the sincere way he pants thank you when you delightfully swallow his cum after he releases in your mouth, gripping the roots of your hair and tilting your head up as he does so; he wants to peer into your dazed hypnotising eyes in case he doesn’t see you again…

divorced dad ! in-ho who gets addicted to your sounds, to your sweet taste, to all the pretty expressions you make for him and how perfectly your tight pussy feels around him. it’s a dangerous, irresistible combination of emotions that keeps him coming back for more. you’re just as down bad - nobody has made you feel so craved before, so beautiful and sexy in your own skin, but also safe to the point where you almost feel like a completely new person in the bedroom. both of you unleash your filthy fantasies every time you meet and watch how effortlessly they blend together, reminding you how perfectly you match, like two pieces of the same puzzle.

divorced dad ! in-ho who buys a luxurious apartment for the two of you so you don’t feel anxious that his daughter can walk in on you out of nowhere, but also because he wants to. he feels good when he’s spoiling you because he wants to know you have everything you may need and that you have a reason to smile so every time you arrive you find different gifts in addition to beautiful bouquets of flowers with little notes he wrote before going to work.

divorced dad ! in-ho who does his best to spend quality time with you by taking you out, but also by doing fun domestic activities at your new place because now it’s your favorite place to be. you have movie marathons, romantic dinners with meals that he cooks for you while jazzy tunes play in the background as you sit on the countertop and tell him about your day at uni; slow make out sessions on the balcony at night which sometimes end up with you riding him while wearing one of his many shirts. the warm summer breeze spreads his expensive cologne in the air as his hands rest on your hips not rushing your movements because he wants to enjoy every second of the moment… you also have sex on the couch, in the shower and in front of the mirror, because you cannot get enough of each other. to in-ho, sex has never been so thrilling, so… diverse and nasty. “my dirty minded babydoll,” he likes to call you every time you surprise him by asking to please him in a new exciting way.

and when it comes to you, sex has never been so fulfilling; none of the few guys you’ve dated focused so much on you, they never seemed to be patient enough to analyse your reactions and study the needs of your body. but in-ho does, and it’s like every time he learns something new that makes him fall in love even harder. it feels good, because you’re willing to go all the way for him too…

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

X♡X♡ [SEVEN DAYS] Day 4

You've already won.

Tags/Warnings: Porn with a lot of plot basically, inexperienced!reader, Dom!Jungkook, BDSM themes and elements, discussion of past bad experiences (sexual and general relationships), toys, jk is more dominant in this, NSFW, size kink if you squint, Subspace, a teeny bit of Angst, a little of fluff, brat behavior

Wordcount: 6k

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: screw it i can't hold this back any longer. Sorry if it's disappointing..

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You never really knew that Jungkook is actually a pretty good home-cook.

Obviously, he is no michelin star collector, his chaotic nature bleeding through his every move- but it's still clear that he has skill and a genuine passion for what he’s doing. It feeds, however, also into your own personal observation about him; that while he is a dominant person by nature who enjoys controlling situations to their fullest, he’s also a pleaser. He seems to thrive most the moment you tell him you trust him, when you let him lead or even just seek out physical contact to him. It reminds you of what he told you before.

‘As long as you make me feel wanted, I’ll be just fine.’

“You’re staring.” Jungkook chuckles as he finishes cleaning the dishes from your shared breakfast earlier. There has been some tension between you, and you know he’s waiting for you this time. The training wheels are slowly coming off, and he’s becoming less and less easy on you. It's exciting because you also feel.. like you could challenge him.

And whatever the punishment, you’ll take it.

But no matter what you tried and try, nothing really seems to get a proper reaction out of him. So when you sit in front of him now on the couch that acts as your bed as well for this week, you’re stunned. “What?” You ask, making him repeat his words. You’ve just offered him yourself, told him you want to have proper sex, and instead of taking the chance, he wants to…?

“I said:” He smiles impishly as he speaks, “Get me off without touching me, and I’ll fuck you the way you want.” He repeats his lewd sentence freely as ever, long having shed the shame about the topic.

Well, the task itself isn’t what you didn’t understand. It’s more so, that you don’t understand why it needs to be so difficult? “but- I thought you want this?” You argue weakly, and he nods.

“I do.” He agrees. “that, and so much more. But you also wanted me to stop being so soft with you.” He repeats your request, and in a way, you want to smack your past self for making this so difficult for you now. “also, trust me- it’ll be a lot more interesting this way.” He almost seems to joke, and you can clearly see and feel just how excited he is as well.

Because deep down, you can understand it.

And you’re ready to take on the challenge.

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The entire rest of the day, you attempt to distract him from his placed challenge the best you can. If you can trick him into forgetting his own rules, maybe you can somehow cheat your way to the goal?

Jungkook however sems to have a sixth sense for your antics however. No matter what you do to try and get his attention, his patience never seems to snap. If anything, it just seems to amuse him- and that’s not quite what you were aiming for.

What you also weren’t aiming for was the fact that he could turn your wonderful plans against you in a heartbeat- the remote controlled toy inside you buzzing to life yet again while you went to read something on your phone on the couch. It’s been happening for almost an hour now, randomly- and never enough to really get you off properly.

Your plan was simple; after a bit of research, you read that some guys are really into the controlling part of the toy, but that it would often lead to more than that later on. So you not-so-subtly told Jungkook that you had taken the toy, and not only that- you'd mentioned that you were ‘wearing’ it, too. The look on Jungkook’s face was surprised at first- but quickly shifted, gaze changing as he acknowledged what you had informed him of.

What you didn’t think about, was that Jungkook isn’t just some guy.

He knows how to control himself, and he knows how to control others even better it feels like. A text on your phone makes your skin run hot, as it only displays a simple message.

[Don’t you dare cum.]

It’s not even like he can see you! The buzzing of the toy is a strange rhythm, and you move your hands between your thighs to shift things a bit, when Jungkook’s voice is heard.

“Can’t follow basic instructions when you’re not supervised, huh?” He chuckles, walking into the open kitchen to open the fridge and take out a bottle of soda. “I said don’t cum. Get your hands off your cunt.” He commands before unscrewing the plastic cap and bringing the neck of the bottle towards his lips to drink from it.

For some reason, you do exactly as he says. But the way he said it did not really make your situation any better.

“Not too sure where you were going with this plan of yours-” He teases, as he walks closer to you, bottle still in hand. “-But I’m giving points for creativity.” He chuckles, holding the bottle out for you. “You look thirsty, darling.” He jokes.

You glare at him, trying not to shift in order not to make it worse for yourself. But still, you look at the beverage with a bit of longing- maybe drinking something can help you calm down?

Wrong.

Especially when it’s his hand underneath your chin that holds your face at the right angle to make you drink from the bottle, look in his eyes sharp and devilish to say the least. He’s visibly happy about the clear display of dominance over you, maybe even amused by it? In a way, you don’t care. This side of Jungkook is new, and you feel excitement over the whole ordeal.

Maybe your plan is working?

But as soon as you’re done drinking, he reaches into the pocket of his pants, and turns off the device with a simple tap on his touchscreen.

“Take it out, princess.” He says, nodding towards your legs.

You stare, and wait.

“Too hard to follow?” He asks you in fake worry. “Okay, simpler terms then. Get up.” He waves his hand up, and your legs seem to move for a second without your command- making you embarrassed, before you roll your eyes and still follow his request. Standing in front of him, he nods, before he taps at your hips. “Strip.” He tells you as a next step, and you almost stubbornly kick off your shorts. “Strip further, baby.” He emphasizes, but there’s a dangerous undertone to it.

You’re testing a limit.

You slowly move to push your panties off your legs- fabric clinging to your wet folds for a second before it falls to your feet. Much to your surprise however, Jungkook gets to his knees right in front of your exposed legs- before he taps your thighs on the inside- a silent command to part your legs.

This is an oddly embarrassing position to be in. Strangely. Because technically, he’s seen it all- so why does this make you feel so.. Small?

Maybe it’s his gaze. Maybe it’s the fact that despite being in a lower position, he still controls the situation. Or maybe it’s just because it’s him.

His fingers pull on the tail of the toy that’s still outside, making your core clench involuntarily. “No.” Jungkook lowly warns. “Give it up.” He commands, and you want to look away from the scene so badly as you relax your muscles- toy finally slipping out, hanging warm and wet from Jungkook’s fingers that still hold onto the tail end of it.

You feel empty.

“Go wash up.” He kisses your cheek, tone kind again. “But no fun times in there. I’ll be checking when you come out.” Jungkook warns, and you groan in agony-

Though you have to admit, that it’s kind of fun.

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Its late, and you’re both breathing heavily.

This happened rather spontaneously to be honest- a commercial break having broken your attention to the TV show you were both watching, making Jungkook turn it off entirely before focusing on you instead. After that steamy Makeout session of the two lovers in the show, you’d stolen glances at Jungkook any second you could, stolen orgasms from the entire early day still leaving you unsatisfied and hungry for any kind of release.

And it did not go unnoticed.

Maybe it's been tough on him too, because it feels as if he can’t undress you fast enough- hands struggling with the clasp of your bra in the back for a moment, before he groans in anger about it, and just pushes the whole garment up to reveal your chest to him, fabric pulled over your head in it’s entirety. He’s hungry, clearly so- but you’re struggling on your end, despite the misery.

This is what you wanted. Something soft, slow, romantic. But right now, all it does is cause you frustration.

And you wonder why.

Did he taint you so much that you’re now forever stained with the way he does things, so much so that you’ll forever seek what he’s offered? Has he ruined you to the point of no return, that no ‘normal’ form of bedroom love can fulfill your needs any longer? This is what you had wanted at the start- something calm, casual, something you know. But for some reason, there’s something awoken inside you that makes you yearn for his touch to be more demanding, more exciting, more enticing than this. Have you gone mad?

Or are you simply not seeing the bigger picture?

His lips on your skin are sensual, warm but not hot, gentle, caring, affectionate. His hands never grab too hard, only brush over you, map out your body as if he needs to remind himself of every curve you have.

You want more. Need more. This is too slow. Or is it?

His tongue over your chest makes your breath hitch, back arching off the mattress as he gently bites your hardened bud, pulling it a little, always teasing, never going rough. You never imagined you’d want more than that, but there’s this sudden need to be absolutely ruined by him.

And that’s somehow exactly what he’s doing.

His hand only occasionally finds its way between your legs to spread around your leaking arousal, even sometimes taunting you by using it to cover his bare length in it, hand only slowly moving to close around it in a fist, hips thrusting into his hand, a mere glimpse offered at what he could be giving you.

You know he’s warm. Heavy, and thick. More than the toy could’ve offered you last time. You want him, as deep as he can go.

Your brain is filled with the most obscene visuals of his cum leaking out of you, filling you up until there’s no space for anything else. It’s as if you’ve gone rabid, head no longer functioning, only instincts left and the need for that very specific pleasure only he can offer you.

You’re a slave to his touch, and you’re not even upset about it.

“Nuh-uh.” He chuckles, as you try and reach for him. “Patience.” He scolds softly.

“Please-!” You whine, but its not working at all as he leans over you, his cock rubbing over your stomach, way to far away from where you need him most. “jungkook-“

“You sound so sweet when you beg.” He purrs, licks and bites at your neck, kisses placed with meaning behind them. “I think I could cum just from this.” He chuckles. “Can you?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Need you..” you whine.

“You have me.” Jungkook reassures you. “I’m right here.” He offers, but you reach out to touch him, this time trying to keep your self control, only letting your fingers run over his abdomen. “Such a good girl. Following rules so well.” He tells you with amusement in his tone.

It’s the rule, after all. You’re allowed to touch, to feel, to move. Just not there.

You’ll have to get creative if you want to get him off without touching him at all. Because if you do- you win. And the grand prize will be what you’ve begun to anticipate with eagerness and excitement, and no more fear.

Because it’s Jungkook.

And you’re starting to no longer think you’re falling in love with him-

But believe in it.

Suddenly, there is an idea in your head. Jungkook had made the mistake of not making the rules too clear- which means that you’ve got a bit of room to play with, as you collect your thoughts and form a new plan. He’s clearly more than just aroused, tip leaking onto your lower stomach, and that alone offers you an opportunity.

He spots the way your gaze changes instantly. Like something awoken inside you, the you that’s looking at him is no longer unsure or worried or holding back.

Your hands move between your legs, to spread your own arousal over the inside of your thighs, just for your legs to close up, and lift to be pushed towards your body- closing up on the very tip of his, and he gets the message crystal clear.

A smirk finds its way over his lips, as your hands reach for his hips.

“You want me to fuck your thighs, huh?” He chuckles, leaning in, accepting the offer seemingly and making your blood rush in your veins. You found it. You solved the problem. “cute.” He says, kissing your neck-

“But I said get me off, not make me do it myself.”

Your whole world crashes down as you realize the fatal flaw in your plan, leaving you at square one again. The frustration builds, making you whine for a moment before you snap- pushing at his chest to make him switch positions with you, his body now beneath yours. You’re not sure what to do now, a bit uncertain again as you feel too responsible in this position.

How’re you supposed to solve this?

Meanwhile Jungkook, beneath you, is mesmerized.

You know that the easy way out would be to simply jump over the rules, or give up- two options you probably would’ve made use of days prior without the experiences you’ve collected until now. But you’re following what he said, always staying on the road he set up for you, only ever looking at other ways possible, but you never dare to go against his orders.

So obedient. But what’s most amazing to him about it, is that you freely choose to be.

He’s been giving you options to take the lead left and right, but you willingly let him control you and the scene. The amount of trust you put in him makes him feel high almost, and it’s not just the fact that he’s feeling the ‘rush’ of somehow ‘corrupting’ you in any way. This isn’t just something that he feels because you play into his fantasies.

This is way more than that.

Suddenly, your body loses all tension, as you lean down on him, openly seeking his help without even asking. “A bit of a tough challenge, hm?” he reassures you, and you nod, stubborn as you sit back on his thighs, still unsure what you’re supposed to do. You’re not as adventurous as him, you don’t yet have this big collection of fantasies yet. So, in a way, he had expected this outcome- making him not even surprised, nor disappointed.

He could never be disappointed in you.

“Tell me what to do.” You request, and he watches you for a good second or two. Oh he definitely has more than a handful of ideas blossoming in his mind about what he’d love for you to do- but small steps, for now.

“I already told you, though.” He almost teases, not bowing down this easily. He’s not that quick to break under your doll-like eyes, he doesn’t falter at the way you lick your lips this quickly.

Suddenly, your gaze changes. You have an idea, and he’s curious to see it.

You remember one crucial thing about him he’s always made sure to emphasize; he doesn’t need much to come undone. Sex isn’t as straight forward with him as it is with others- some you simply need to think outside the box, and try seeing it from a different perspective. What makes him shiver? What made him sigh out in pleasure last time? What could potentially make him weak? And then it hits you.

Its right there. Right in front of you; and you simply failed to see it.

“What is it?” He asks, and you take a shuddering breath as you prepare yourself to be brave for once, before you say it.

“I don’t like this.”

Your eyes are closed, and you feel terrible for a good couple of seconds- because while it is an admission you knew you had to make, it still makes you feel incompetent and like a looser. You ruined the moment and failed his game, and not only that- you had to admit that this might just be too much for you. But this feeling doesn’t last long, because soon enough his hands hold your face to lift it towards him, your gaze finding his as he looks at you with what can only be described as pride.

“there we go.”

He needs you to understand exactly this. He needs you to feel safe, and not just in a simple way. You need to feel 100% comfortable before you can begin to rely on him to the point he so desperately wishes you would- and it looks like you’re beginning to understand this.

“That’s all it took baby.” He smiles encouragingly, hands moving to run over your skin, before he moves you to lay down on your back again. “I need you to say what you think. I want to know all your thoughts.” He almost whispers before he brings his lips down on your neck, still so careful with you.

“Jungkook-“ you sigh out, before you look at him. “-I think I can.” You spill out, unable to keep it in anymore- because if he wants to know all your thoughts, he should know this one too, as delicate as it is still.

“Can what?” He wonders, looking down at you from his position above your body.

“I think I can love you.”

The implications of this sentence are massive- because it finally gives him the feedback he was hoping to find. You want him, in every way, and it finally gives him the last push of confidence to really let you in. Now he can fully commit himself, try his hardest to make this work, because even if it doesn’t end up the way you both are hoping for, he knows that you at least want this.

You want more than sex.

You want him.

His kisses are of an entirely different nature now as he devours your soul it feels like, and this sudden display of clear vulnerability makes you feel like you’re leaving something heavy behind you. Like a backpack dropped from your shoulders, your hands no longer move in a shy way- instead they reach out to him with comfort in mind, wanting to touch him with just as much care as he’s offered you these past few days.

He deserves it.

And he feels the change in you. Your whole body behaves just a little differently now, legs pulling his own closer without hesitation as you suddenly giggle out even, drunk off of him. “Did I fail?” You ask, and he shakes his head, hand grabbing at your flesh.

“No.” He denies, out of breath. “I’m changing the rules.” He decides, leaning back a bit to let you breathe, just to witness the sight of you moving your arms up to stretch even, back arching towards him, innocently teasing.

“Can you just do that?” You challenge, and he leans his head to the side a bit, looking down at you with the eyes of something similar to a demon in disguise.

“I can.” He affirms. “And I say fuck the rules.” He states towards you.

He knows you’re on the very edge of something you yourself are completely unaware of- and he wants to see it, craves to witness it at it’s fullest. This will test whether or not you truly can be what you told him you can’t, and what he believes slumbers deep inside of you.

When he turns onto his back, and maneuvers you to sit atop of him, you’re a bit unsure- but you trust him. You want to rely on him- not just in terms of sex.

But it all starts here.

“Take as much as you like-” He reassures you with hands on your thighs. “-this isn’t a challenge.” Jungkook clears up one last time for you. “You can’t fail this. You can only win.”

And you understand. For once, you understand exactly what he’s talking about.

It’s quite different from the toy he’s pushed inside you before- the warmth that radiates off of him feels as if it’s burning you, even though it’s not. He’s slick from your own arousal and his just as much- making it easy for the head of his length to push right in. The stretch however is different- it's a lot less harsh, more welcoming this time around, as you slowly move yourself to your first stop. Your legs are trembling, but not from fear- it's excitement. Anticipation.

You can only win.

You already did, didn’t you?

You rest yourself forward on top of him, your own lips now mindlessly kissing his neck, hands holding onto whatever you can get to. His own arms wrap comfortably around your back as you gently rock yourself on what little you have already fit- unbeknownst to you taking him just a little deeper each time. But all the way through this process, your head starts to spin almost- not as if you’re dizzy, no. This feeling is strange, as if your own bodyweight suddenly doesn’t matter any longer. You’re made of nothing but air, muscles having no tension, mind clear of any real thought.

Your head was never this empty and blissfull at the same time.

You don’t even realize the mark you leave in the crook of his neck, as you become a little eager- bringing yourself down on him quite a bit, drunk off of whatever this is. You decide that you want to explore this high to it’s fullest, leaving your body to the hold of his arms, relaxed in the comfort of the fact that he will take good care of it while you leave it behind.

And then, you feel it.

There’s nothing more to take, and you’re full of him- not just physically. All your thoughts include him, his name leaving your lips in a sigh. You can’t see it through your glossed over and hazy gaze, but he can-and he wants to burn this into his mind forever.

“Move, baby.”

It’s like he’s commanding your body for you instead of you making the decision to do so- and it’s an odd feeling, but not unwanted. Like you’re nothing but a spectator able to feel what’s happening, you can just lay back and let yourself be played like an instrument made by the most talented craftsmen the world has ever seen. His grip is strong, especially when he holds onto your waist, silently commanding your pace, and you can’t help but let your eyes roll back before you close them and hold onto him.

Like waves shaking your body back and forth, you’re drowning. But it’s not unpleasant, because he makes you able to breathe amongst the waters.

You don’t even realize that the slippery sounds of your bodies should be embarrassing to you- instead, you aim for more, grabbing onto some of your strings to puppeteer your body alongside him, testing if he lets you. And he does, welcoming you to play alongside him, though he’s clear on the exact song he wants you to perform this time.

You want more- but you trust that he knows what’s best for you.

“I.. I wan-” You slur, and he understands even those broken bits of language, smiling brightly as he rolls his own hips into you, pushing you towards him in the sudden movement. It makes you laugh, before you cry out in pleasure, his pace sending you over the edge-

But he doesn’t stop. And neither do you want him to.

You both part for just a moment, before he has your back against his chest, length guided inside you one more time for a better angle as his hands grip your chest. He bites this time- teeth leaving a mark on your shoulder and neck as he almost growls it sounds like, while his hips set a pace for himself, your thighs shaking from both the exhaustion and pleasure running through you, one of your legs hooked over his forearm to keep you open for him. You come undone a second time, and it feels as if it’s happening somewhere else, before he slips out- at first something you believe might be a mistake, but it’s clearly not.

It was intentional, calculated. Controlled.

The way his cock is now running through your folds with the help of your slick after he's let go of your leg is completely wiping your head clear- you can’t hear yourself whining for nothing in particular while he chases his high between your thighs, hand of yours reaching for him but the action is denied. He instead holds your wrists above your head, while the other keeps your hips close to him, body shuddering from the orgasm rushing through you-

And then, he slows down.

Slowly, the cotton wool in your ear leaves, and you get to hear the pleasure filled moans of the man behind you, the sound of his length moving through your soaked thighs and cunt, and your own breathing and heart beating. You feel the exhaustion, the way your fingertips are cold now, and yet, you don't want the control back yet.

Luckily for you, Jungkook holds you, easily. You can trust him after all.

The sight of your thighs covered in both your own release and his cum, some of it still trickling down the pulsating head poking through, is something that would’ve made you shy, days prior. It’s dirty, and something you never thought you’d find.. Romantic.

But you do. In an odd way.

“You wanna stay like this baby?” He asks, and you drunkenly nod, making him chuckle. “Alright. But only for a bit.” He gently whispers, while you try and collect yourself.

It’s like two sides of you are fighting. One is the you you’ve come to know all your life- trying to get back into control over your body and consciousness. The other is a stranger, trying to tell you it’s alright to let this be for a moment longer.

And maybe that stranger is right.

When he moves you both into the bath, water rushing in, you’re still hazy. You can barely articulate yourself, but he doesn’t seem to care about that whatsoever- nor does he look alarmed. He most likely knows exactly what’s going on with you, and manages it perfectly just like always. And even if not, you wouldn’t be able to tell anyways- nor would you really care.

A dangerous state of mind.

But you feel no fear.

You’re clinging to him during the entirety of the clean-up process, including the time he needs to set the bed again, disposing the soiled sheets and blankets in exchange for new ones. You’re attached to him the second he lays in the new blankets with you, smell of detergent and his bodywash surrounding you. And you’re even more eager for any touch and praise he sends your way, bathing in the afterglow of whatever you just experienced.

All while he’s just as much in heaven as you are.

◇━━━━━━━━━━X♡X♡━━━━━━━━━━━◇

When you wake up, the first thing you notice is how much your muscles ache- especially your legs.

As if you’ve run a marathon, your legs feel like rubber the moment you try and turn around- but it’s also made difficult by the man and his heavy arm around your body. Jungkook is still sound asleep, softly snoring close to you as he recovers from what happened hours prior. You don’t even know why you’re awake, until you dig into your memories.

They feel like you’ve watched a movie. As if it wasn’t you who experienced it.

But it was, and whatever it was what you were feeling, you can’t help but feel intrigued by it. When you turn in his arms he moves as well- first only burying himself closer to you, before his breathing changes, and eyes open. They find yours in the dark of the room, barely illuminated by the now setting sun dipping the entire room in an orange glow.

“Hey.”

That’s all you can really think of, and it makes him laugh sleepily into your chest, causing you to giggle as well.

“Hey.” He returns. He looks cute like this.

“Go back to sleep.” You almost tease, but he shakes his head, yawns and moves a bit to properly look at you.

“How do you feel?” He questions, a hand reaching out to move the blanket back over your shoulder, before it disappears beneath it, seeking out the bare skin of your waist beneath your pajama shirt.

“Sore.” You admit. He laughs.

“I can imagine.” He sympathizes. “Proved you wrong though.” He teases, and you nod.

“I’m glad you did.”

There’s a heavy silence for a good moment, where neither of you really know what to say- and it’s only broken when he decides on the easier topic for now, something you’re glad about. “I’m sure you wonder what.. Happened to you.” He says, and you nod.

“It felt as if I was high.” You describe. “Drunk, but not feeling sick. Like.. One of those out-of-body experiences some people talk about.” You try and picture it to him, and he nods.

“It’s called Subspace.” Jungkook explains. “It’s when.. Well, a headspace a lot of submissives fall into during scenes. Especially when all the conditions align perfectly.” He tells you. “It’s one of the biggest compliments to people like me.”

“Why?” You question.

“Because it’s the ultimate display of trust.” Jungkook offers you. “You need to feel.. Relaxed, and perfectly safe and comfortable with me to be able to let go like that. Just a moment of uncertainty, and you’re unable to slip.”

“To be honest, it felt entirely out of my control.” You respond. “I don’t think I really made a conscious choice to.. Slip.” You repeat the term that he used.

“I know.” He nods. “Some can control it, others, especially new subs, can’t. They need those conditions and a good amount of guidance. And.. Their subspace is fragile, too.” He emphasizes. “One mistake from my side, and you’re falling.” He warns.

“So, I could.. Drop, like in the shower a few days ago?” You ask, and he nods.

“Yeah.” He agrees. “But it’s more complicated, because it’s harder to comfort a person who slips in a mindset where they’re not in full control of themselves. They can’t think rationally, and are more often than not scared of the person who made them drop.” He describes, and there’s an odd look in his eyes.

You’re careful with your next words. But you need to know.

“Has that.. Ever happened to you?”

He nods. You feel your heart constrict.

“It’s a truly terrible feeling.” He sighs. “I won’t sugarcoat it. It’s not forever- but in that moment, you’ll hate me. In it’s purest form.” Jungkook tells you. “I remember how much I despised Yoongi that day. It was as if I felt every negative emotion by just looking at him. But I couldn’t help it. Not until I finally snapped out of it.” He recounts the events.

“Do you still hate him?” You wonder, but he shakes his head, laughs even. It makes you feel better.

“No, absolutely not. I understand it now.” He replies. “But when you’re in that state, you’re.. Running on default settings. You’re not capable of complicated thoughts like trying to see things from another perspective. In hindsight, it wasn’t even his fault it happened. Simply bad timing.” He shrugs. “Which is why I’m so careful with you. I know you need to experience certain things- but I don’t want you to go through things you don’t have to.”

“Do you think.. That day, as bad as it was, made you a better guy at this?” You ask, and he nods.

“It did.” He agrees. “How did you feel?” He wonders, and you shift a bit to get more comfortable, before you remember your situation.

“Weightless.” You describe. “Like I was.. Just existing. It was fun- exciting, but also strangely relaxing.” You tell him.

“You looked very pretty to me, you know?” He states, and you laugh. “No, really. That look in your eyes was something I’ll never forget.”

“Jungkook?” You ask, and he nods, looking at you. “... I think I might be..” You swallow your pride for a second before you say it. “..I might be falling in love with you.”

There’s silence again.

You can hear the clock in his open kitchen faintly ticking away, the fridge buzzing. Outside the window, there’s a car honking, and a water bottle near the window cracks as the plastic bends from the temperature difference. A soft rushing sound is also there- rain, probably, being thrown against the glass of the window by the wind outside.

And then, he speaks.

“I’m glad.” He just says with the brightest smile you've ever awen on his face, while you look at him both surprised and a little confused. But he only leans forwards, and presses a gentle kiss against your lips.

“I already did.”

[toskarin]

sorry to ask, but can you explain your last post to someone who knows nothing about the musician community youre talking about... it sounds like a really really good post if i just understood it better

this is another one of those posts where I'm transcribing a stream of consciousness, so I'll throw in a courtesy readmore

the musician community, as a whole, is much more segmented than the visual artist community

this leads to good and bad things, but generally it allows for more awareness of one's position and an acknowledgement that the needs of an underground folk artist are going to be different than the needs of a composer who receives a name credit. this means there is always going to be heavy pushback when someone tries to impose ethics downward

one element of this is the inward acknowledgement that the monolithic musician community isn't actually real in a way that isn't really mirrored in the visual artist community. besides making music and navigating the financial (and legal) landscape of that, there is very little that intrinsically unites musicians

this acknowledgement allows discussions about concerns among poorer musicians to exist without being completely shut down by someone who has different concerns, because they're not seen as the subject of the discussion unless they are respectfully contributing to it

one big reason for this being possible is that musicians are less respected than visual artists in the professional world

that might sound absurd if you only know of one landscape, but think of how many game (and movie, and tv, and etc. etc. etc.) franchises with identity-defining composers go on to swap out the composer at the first sign of a labour dispute, to very little protest as long as the quality of music isn't seen as dropping

hell, if someone else can copy your style satisfactorily, there's often no fuss at all! this leads to a pretty violent disillusionment with your place in the creative world

even beyond that, there exists an entire industry based around creating a parasitic body of IP landlordism for anyone whose music isn't attached to another product. the musician is, in a way that is deeply and thoroughly beaten into them, a labourer

the visual artist community (until recently) didn't tend to have this disillusionment, so it often follows the sway of its most popular and established members

in fact, the modern visual artist community as a broad cultural body is carved almost entirely from social media discussions that treat the community as one entity. accordingly, becoming established basically requires participation in this online entity

to further poison the well, the position of a visual artist is regularly talked about in spiritual terms rather than labour terms. there is something special that makes you a visual artist. it's the exact mentality that people rightfully made fun of in those ordinary people vs creative people comics. it's the unspoken cultural assumption that natural talent exists, even if most people would deny believing in it if put into explicit terms

while this does feel very good, it means that acknowledging labour-originated conflicts of interest is a bit rude

when a community unites itself around a spiritual core, it can't properly assert "your experiences are not applicable to what is being discussed and you should not be imposing yourself" because, by all metrics, an artist is a fundamentally unique demographic that can speak in all conversations about art

it's a warped form of anti-gatekeeping, a one-way gate through which you can strike down at other poor artists, but not up, enforced from below and framed as a desire for openness

the visual artist community's relative homogenisation of popular consensus is, on the whole, very very very bad for what it does to its norms. it hashes out and legislates within itself with an unspoken assumption that its most prolific members are simply further along the artist lifecycle, and therefore the most trustworthy

discussions with direct parallels ("is it okay to be obviously influenced by someone else's style?") come to much hazier conclusions which lean towards the opinions held by people with the most followers

most egregiously, this manifested in how visual artists react to piracy

the past ten years (in large part because of patreon making viable the paywalling of material behind a regular subscription) have been consumed by arguments about piracy that all seem to terminate in the assumption that piracy is theft, with little stratification of opinion between the hobbyist and professional scenes on this matter

this assumed spiritual core of the community is felt strongly in every conversation. look at the difference in attitudes around the distribution of cracked VSTs and the distribution of brush packs. hell, even on the corporate level, look at the difference in attitudes around pirating DAWs vs visual art programs

even when people are implying an approval of piracy, they find ways to frame it from a position of revenge on a company for something wrong it did, because they still need to conform to the community understanding of piracy as theft

individual visual artists can be (and often are!) more conscious of this stuff, but even then, people react with shock when these visual artists aren't horribly concerned about the possibility of their paywalled work existing on a torrent site

in a word, if you can see the ways these conversation spaces are different and similar, it's all so exhausting

[comicaurora]

You mentioned in a previous ask about Arcane that wanting to do something better can be a great motivator, but recently I've seen a lot of discussion about fanworks created out of "spite" like Spiderman Lotus or that Transformers fan film. Do you think these come from different feelings, leading to their end result, or that the motivation just needs to be handled carefully?

Ah, I see the confusion. When you have ideas for what a story could do, and then the story goes in a different direction and bypasses what you thought it would do, that can be an incredibly useful motivator for using that unused inspiration for telling your own story. Taking someone else's completed artwork and saying "move over, idiot, I'll show you how it's done" is a recipe for hubristic self-immolation.

Setting out to "fix" someone's work has to be approached very carefully. Artistic criticism is a complicated skill, but it isn't treated that way. Especially in the age of the internet, several wildly different things have been conflated under "criticism", and I think that's why spite-motivated "fixes" almost always end up tripping on their shoelaces and falling flat.

Art critique - "fixing" someone's work - is about figuring out how to make the art the most effective version of itself. Determine what it's going for, and make suggestions for how the artist could improve the execution of that goal. Clarify a confusing moment, change the score a little to be more emotionally impactful, break up the pacing with moments to breathe, tighten up the pacing to maintain the frantic vibes.

However, the broad perception of what art critique is has been bundled together with several other forms of criticism, including snarky reviews (a judgment of quality rendered after a work is completed and aimed at prospective audiences so they don't end up wasting their money), general knee-jerk mockery (it is easy and fun to score points off of other people's sincerity via a little casual bullying), critical analysis (taking apart how a story works to learn from it, a useful approach for other artists trying to improve their own skills) and, of course, fanfiction.

Ahh, fanfiction! If you don't like a story, you can just take the characters, setting, premise, worlbuilding, and the general shape of the plot - ignoring the fact that at this point you've borrowed about 80% of the work that went into building the original story already - and then you can just make the characters do what you wanted instead. If you think Spider-Man would be better if everyone was miserable and grieving a dead buddy the whole time, you can do that! Two hours of misery for everyone!

This approach is ostensibly trying to accomplish what art critique does - to make a better version of the story. But in practice, it's almost never interested in interrogating what the story was actually going for. In fact, it's actively scornful of what the story was going for. It doesn't take it apart to see what did work, it just says "I didn't like that and I could do better" and produces something trying not to be like the original it disliked.

I kind of think of it like this. If you ate a meal and you were like "there's not enough salt in this," you would not produce a better meal by focusing exclusively on loading it down with all the salt you could find, even if you were starting with all the same ingredients. Do you understand how they were put together to begin with? How the meat was brined, how the vegetables were cooked, what seasonings went where? Do you think all it needed to make it work was salt?

So you get fanworks that do indeed focus on the part that the fanartist thought was missing. You get Spider-Man Is A Sad Jerk For Two Hours. It accomplished what the fanartist wanted, but it fails in its true goal of being Like The Original But Better, because it never actually made the effort to understand what made the original tick. Why do people like Spider-Man in his other movies? Well, there's lots of reasons that work for different audiences - he's funny, he's good-hearted, he's graceful and well-choreographed, his fight scenes are fluid and exciting, his dynamic with the people of New York is lively and comedic, he's hapless and hurting but he always tries his best, he gets knocked down but he always gets back up-- there are many reasons to like these stories. But if all you can focus on is what you wanted them to add, you'll have a lot of trouble parsing out what functional elements you'll need to carry over into your fanfiction to not lose the core of what made it actually mostly work.

If all you focus on is accentuating the bits you wanted them to do without recognizing the parts that were working fine, you end up with a heaping plate of salt.

✨ as the ask states, this post is very specifically about spite-motivated "I can do it better than the writers" fanworks and not fanfiction in general ✨

[untilhiseyeheals]

Naughty Assistant - Arcane Silco x fem!reader Oneshot

For Lilith :)

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

Summary: You're Silco's assistant. During a boring meeting you let your thoughts wander, leading to you bent over a desk.

MDNI! Warning: Teasing, smut, p in v, rough sex, fingering

It wasn’t your fault, really. It was just such a boring meeting and you could hardly sit still listening to the chembarons each try to play themselves up as the most important and powerful. You had to try hard not to scoff at some of the things they dared to say in his presence. This should have alerted you to the fact that he was not to be messed with, especially not in a tense meeting situation.

You were Silco’s assistant. Most of the time. What started as a job as a simple courrier had quickly turned into something much more serious. For whatever reason he took a liking to you and started assigning you more and more important, personal tasks. Sooner or later you had naturally assumed the position as his assistant, taking notes, worrying about paperwork and still running on one or the other occasional courier job. Until one fateful night, overworked and tired you fell asleep in his office, just wanting to take a quick nap on the comfortable plush sofa in the corner that seemed to smile at you so invitingly. He found you hours later, returning from his own work and almost locking you in the office. It was pure luck that he decided to pop in before he locked up and found you there. As he tried to wake you, in your delirium you pulled him in by his neck and whispered all sorts of things to him, not awake enough to realise the consequences. Your little sleepy slip-up had since led to many nights spent in his office, on his desk, on the couch, in his private rooms, in the bar after everyone went home… Over time you grew more comfortable around him, even though you still respected his position and never dared to argue against any of his strategic concerns, in private matters he had evidently formed a soft spot for you.

That’s how you found yourself in the present, at the table in one of the meeting rooms above The Last Drop, sitting right beside him as he addressed the chembarons. Notepad on the desk, pen in hand, you kept meticulous notes of important details in conversation but also paid attention to their body language, facial expressions, anything they didn’t express through words. Your notes and intel had a big significance and Silco had been able to use your findings to his advantage multiple times. Usually the meetings were a little more interesting, pressing matters being discussed, everyone arguing and spitting insults at one another. This time it was going boringly well. They all seemed to agree on the task at hand and you had delved into doodling on the notepad in front of you instead of paying attention.

Then you started diverting your attention to him, starting to observe the way he sat in his chair beside you. The way his nose obscured the good eye, black and ember over charred skin all you can see from your angle. Still, you admired him and you found inextricable beauty in any of his features. Before you knew it, your hand started doodling what had captivated you on the notepad. Little sketches of the way his drawn-in brow furrowed, the way his eye focused on each person that raised their voice. It made you think of the way it locked onto you when you were lying underneath him, fixing you even when his blue eye is closed in ecstasy, never letting you out of its sight.

Gradually, your drawings get more and more obscene, just ever so slight hints of pleasure on the faces you sketched, eye rolled back, lip caught between teeth. Soon your mind was clouded with all those beautiful images and you had completely lost focus. “Am I right?” said Finn, staring at you. A beat. “Silco, is your little assistant here with us? I asked if you noted that down!?” he spat at you over the table, raising his voice and waving an arm in hopes of snapping you out of your trance. "Shit. Sorry, yeah I got it. Don’t hassle me”, you shook your head and quickly turned a fresh page on your notebook, trying to hide your little drabbles in imagination and act as if you had just run out of space. Silco raised an eyebrow and turned to you, eyes falling on the page of the notebook as you hastily turned it over. Before you could do anything against it, he grabbed the page, tore it from the notebook and put it in his lap, obscuring it from the others. You could see something flashing through his eyes as they scanned the page.

He kept it in his lap and looked back up at the others. “Perfectly orderly notes, as always. Don’t you worry, Finn, my eyes and ears notice everything”, he retorted, voice low and steady, lacing each word with a hidden sense of threat that made Finn instantly sit back down and nod his head. Keen on moving on from this tension, the conversation instantly moved to the next topic and everyone went back to paying you no mind. Everyone but Silco. You could feel it now, his steady gaze fixed on you while he listened to the others talking. He didn’t let it shine through at all, walls up, sitting there calm and collected as ever. To nobody in this room did he seem anything other than his usual, broody, dangerously focused self. You knew better. You had become more attuned to the way his mood showed through the way he kept himself and as you let your eyes wander once more over his figure in the chair next to you you could clearly see the way his hands fidgeted with the piece of paper still in his hands.

That gave you an idea. Softly putting down your pen, you acted as if you had to readjust your necklace, letting your hands roam slowly over your neck and collarbone. Dropping them to your chest, you adjusted the way your bra was sitting, carefully opening just one more button on your blouse. You picked the pen back up and started noting down some points, taking the cold metallic end of it between your hot lips every now and then. Gently grazing it with your teeth, letting your tongue feel the cold metal of the clicker at the end. Your eyes flicked over to Silco as he readjusted his position, leaning on the desk, resting his head on the back of his hands. He still looked calm and collected as ever, but you could see his resolve crackling, eyes flicking over to you more and more often.

It was entertaining, but clearly not enough since he just carried on conversing with the other chembarons as if nothing was happening at all. So you decided to turn it up a notch. You looked over at him and let your gaze drop to his lap, discarded sheet of notepad paper still laying on his crotch. A very fortunate position. You kept scribbling on the notepad, eyes flicking to the paper, fixing it, thinking, plotting, scheming. How lucky for you that he was sitting right to the side of your weak hand. Your eyes still on the paper, noting down whatever it was they had just discussed, your other hand slowly slid off the table. Landing first on your own leg, you let it snake its way over to his seat, finding his leg, trailing sneaky fingers up its side. Slowly, carefully your nimble fingers danced their way over the material of his pants, dragging nails across, inching closer and closer to his crotch. You gently toyed with the fabric of his pants moving closer and closer to your destination. Faking a grab for the paper, your hand slid underneath it, tracing the outline of his length through his pants.

Suddenly, his hand grabbed your wrist, holding it down. Trying not to make a scene, you carefully looked up from your paper and saw him still sitting upright, head leaned onto one of his hands, elbow on the table as he talked to the others as if nothing was wrong. You tried to retract your hand but his grip only grew stronger, almost bruising your wrist. You winced, dropping the pen in the other hand at the sudden sting of pain around your wrist. Silco looked over to you, stone-cold expression, and simply said “If you’re not feeling well, you may leave early. I believe we are about finished here, I will require your assistance in my office. Wait for me there, so we can go over your notes”. Something flashed through his eyes as he put special emphasis on the last words. You nodded obediently and as his grip around your wrist finally let go, you took a second to collect your notes and got up. As you turned to leave, you realised you forgot one very important piece of paper. Turning back around for a glance, you see Silco still had his hand on his lap, not giving you a chance to retrieve the paper. So you decided it was as safe with him as it got and turned on your heel to leave the room.

As you made your way to his office, you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. Slipping into his office, you settled your notes on his desk and undid another few buttons of your blouse. You had just contemplated what else to do and whether to spread yourself on the couch or wait sitting on his desk as you heard a set of footsteps approaching the door. As the door opened, you saw Silco step into the room, letting out an exaggerated sigh as he saw you in front of his desk, blouse undone and contemplating your next move. “What exactly did you think this was going to be out there, hm?” he started, voice low but with a considerable edge. He was pissed. “What if someone caught on to your little games under the table, your lewd scribbles, let alone who they were about?” he kept scolding as he took slow, menacing steps closer to you. “I don’t need you undermining my position in important meetings. Your behavior reflects on me. What would they think if they-”, he couldn’t say any more before you interrupted him. “If they what? Found out you fuck your little assistant? Oh please, as if they don’t already think as far as that” you spat back at him.

That made him stop dead in his tracks. Eyes locked onto you, a fire blazing in those mismatched irises. “Watch your mouth”, he threatened. “Or what? You’ll fire me? Kill me, even? Go ahead! Apparently that leaves one less mess you have to care about” you started raising your voice before it cracked, betraying you in your emotions seeping through in your every word. That’s when he realised. His scowl turned into a smirk, furrowed brows relaxing as his eyes scanned your agitated form. He let out a low chuckle. “Oh so that’s what this is all about? You don’t just want to be my little assistant anymore, hm?” he teased, having seen right through you, he once again assumed the upper hand as he closed the distance between you. He stopped in front of you, leaning onto the desk, trapping you between his arms. He looked you up and down, drinking you in, the way you so desperately wanted to be his, submitting to him entirely making it hard for him to hold back. He slowly leaned closer, bringing his lips almost to yours before turning away and placing his lips at your ear. “Then say it”, he whispered into your ear. He didn’t have to ask twice. “Silco, I want to be yours” you whispered back, breathing heavily at the tension building between the two of you.

“Good girl”, he growled before his lips were crashing into yours in a hungry kiss. All that pent up anger and tension started to release in the form of a fiery kiss. There was nothing delicate about the way he was trying to devour you, pressing his body against yours and pushing you against the desk. You let your hands snake around his waist as he lifted his hands from the desk instantly finding your sides as they started to roam up and down your body, tugging at your blouse. You understood without a word and opened the last buttons of your blouse, exposing the lacy bra underneath that cupped your breasts in a perfect way, nipples peeking through the lace.

He stopped the assault on your mouth to take in the sight before him and instantly brought a hand to one of your hardened nipples, flicking it through the thin lace of your bra. You winced in pain as he twisted it just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through your body that turned the wince into a moan halfway through. “Look at you. Dirty girl. So eager to please me, to submit to me, to be mine” he growled against your neck as his mouth started sucking and biting on the skin along your jaw and down your neck. That made you throw your head back as one of your hands found his head, digging your nails into his scalp, urging him to go lower, slightly pushing his head. He got the hint and without lifting his head from your neck, he slid the strap of your bra down your shoulder, pulling it until the thin bit of lace was dragged underneath your breast, fully exposing your boob to him. He continued sucking your neck, dropping his head lower, kissing your collar bone, teasing and stalling until he finally wrapped his mouth around your nipple. You sucked in a breath at the sensation, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud of your nipple, chipped teeth grazing it ever so slightly. You dug your nails into his scalp as a wave of pleasure streamed through your body, sweet moans and pants spilling from your lips. “Silco, please”, you moaned out as he gently sucked on your nipple.

He stopped, tilting his head to look up at you. “Please, what?” he purred against your skin, blowing cold air over your wet nipple making the skin tingle. You let out a desperate moan. “Please fuck me already.” you practically sob out. That earned a low chuckle from him as he stepped back, straightened up in front of you and nodded towards your hips. “Pants off.” he ordered, watching with a smirk as your hands quickly found the button of your pants, sliding them off and discarding them onto the floor. He hummed contently, hands starting to grab onto your hips, sliding down your waist before settling on your ass, cupping each cheek and giving them a gentle squeeze. He brought his hands around, tracing the hem of your panties, thumb trailing agonisingly close to where you needed him most. Finally his thumb starts running along the front of your panties, pressing into your soft flesh, feeling your wetness through the fabric. “My, my… Look what you got yourself into with those depraved thoughts of yours” he said scoldingly, a humorous tone in his voice.Suddenly, his thumb slid down and pushed the soaked fabric of your panties to the side, running his fingers directly through your wet folds and gathering your slick on his fingers. You inhaled sharply and tried grabbing the desk you still leaned against for support as you instinctively bucked your hips against his hand. “Please, please, please” you muttered out, desperate to feel him finally inside you.

He gave you one low chuckle before pushing two fingers into you, making you involuntarily let go of the desk and grab onto him. “Oh, how greedy you are. That’s what you thought about when looking over at me during that meeting, no? You just couldn’t stop imagining those fingers fucking into you”, he said while relentlessly pushing his fingers deep into you, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot that made your eyes water. Instinctively you started bucking your hips, grinding back against the motions of his hands, chasing the high.

As he felt your walls starting to clench around his fingers, he retracted them, leaving you whining and grinding against nothing. Before you could protest, he grabbed your waist with both hands, spinning you around and pushing you against the desk. “Bend over”, he ordered as you heard the buckle of his belt clink. You obeyed just as eagerly as before, bending your body forwards, resting your arms on the desk, slightly parting your legs to give him a good view of the mess he made with his fingers. He laid his hands on your ass again, letting them roam over your skin and panties, spreading your cheeks. “That’s what I like to see” he purred before pulling your panties to the side. With his free hand he grabbed his cock he had finally freed from the confinement of his pants and lined the tip up with your entrance. Keeping it there for a second, he dragged it up and down through your folds, coating it with your wetness. “So eager and ready for me”, he growled as he slid into you without any resistance, bottoming out instantly. You let out an ungodly moan as you felt him fill you up completely, his hips on your ass, staying there to relish in the feeling of how much he stretched you out.

Wasting no time, he started ramming into you, hands gripping your hips, leaving you unable to move as he fucked you against the desk. Between quick ragged breaths his hands left your hips and grabbed your arms, bringing them together at the wrists and holding them uncomfortably over your back. You had to flop forward, planting your chest completely onto the desk, turning your head to the side to be able to breath. He gripped your wrists together and with one strong pull lifted your torso from the desk, the angle leaving you screaming and cursing his name as it hurt so good. “That’s my good girl. Don’t hold back. Let them hear you scream my name. That’s what you wanted, no?” he gritted out between thrusts. It was evident in his voice how close he was himself, gathering all his strength to hold himself together and ‘punish’ you a bit longer. You had no choice but to oblige, the sensation of his cock consistently stretching you, pushing deep inside you to places only he could reach. You moaned and muttered his name, sometimes more sometimes less intelligible, between gasps and whines as you let yourself go completely.

Every plunge of his cock sent jolts of arousal through your entire body until one very clear mention of his name announced your impending release. “That’s it love, cum for me. Show me who you belong to.” You couldn’t hold back anymore, eyes rolling back as you approached your climax. Silco’s thrusts started to become sloppy and the rhythm got more and more irregular. Sweet moans and grunts leaving his lips which sent you over the edge, clenching your walls around him as he fucked you through your orgasm. He managed a few more sloppy thrusts before spilling his hot ropes of cum into you, unable to hold himself back at the feeling of your own climax around him. He continued slowly thrusting, letting go of your hands and leaving you to steady yourself up by propping your elbows onto the desk. He groaned as he slowly pulled out of you, dragging one string of cum between his cock and your cunt. He took a handkerchief out of his vest pocket and cleaned himself up, discarding it to the side before turning his attention to you, grinning as he used the ruined fabric of your panties to cover you up again. Running his fingers along the mess he made your ruined panties soon looked even worse mixed with your and his release.

After you had calmed down your breathing again you attempted to push yourself off the desk and stand up straight, legs wobbling and betraying you as your hips ached from being thrusted into the harsh edge of the wooden desk. His strong arms quickly swooped around your waist, holding you close to him as he admired your flushed face with a grin on his own. “I think they got it. Now, shall we finish this meeting?”

[drdemonprince]

also like. The way that some discoursers describe the role of a "power differential" in an age gap relationship is heavily informed by cishet relationship expectations that frame a romantic relationship as adversarial.

Just saw someone in the comments of a post about age gaps discussing how confusing it can be to determine who in a relationship actually has the "upper hand," once you take into account factors like income, immigration status, race, and so on. True enough facts, but also -- why are we discussing relationships in terms of who has the upper hand? How will that upper hand be utilized and what does it mean to actually be in a loving relationship with another person when that is how you approach how you relate to one another?

Liberal feminist dating advice for cishet women in particular leads them to become obsessed with not losing the "upper hand" over the men that they are dating -- to not show too much affection or genuine interest, to not forgive mistakes lest you become weak, to not become dependent upon a partner, to remain economically empowered and so on.

Again, these are very sensible attempts to balwark oneself against systemic sexism in the patriarchy, I'm not blaming women for often needing to do all of that.

But can you actually be in a mutually supportive, interdependent relationship if you are constantly guarding yourself against losing your position? Is it loving, is it nourishing, is it a real relationship if you must always guard yourself against losing the "upper hand"?

Patriarchal laws and policies and the awful conduct of many men obviously makes this kind of thinking adaptive for many, but it is horrible that cishet women feel that they can never be vulnerable around the people that they love. That is not a state of affairs we should consider acceptable or admirable; that kind of thinking is not a solution to the real issue at hand, which in this case is systemic sexism, but in other cases could be ageism, classism, what have you.

we need to remove the existing power differentials in a structural way so that people are free to love others how they want to, and not constantly guard themselves against those they love. But even in the meantime, viewing a single interpersonal relationship as the battleground in which these systemic forces play out is a bit confused.

Telling individual people who are marginalized that they must be mindful of the "power differential" when electing whom to date is a bit like telling women they shouldn't "let" themselves be assaulted by wearing the wrong item of clothing or hanging out in the wrong places. That is not why abuse happens. It is not in the marginalized person's control. And instructing marginalized people to avoid receiving love and support as means of protecting themselves only leaves them far more vulnerable in a lot of cases.

[stemms]

I could never understand people who treat DSMP like a dead fandom or feel ashamed of still adoring this piece of media in 2024. After all, isn’t the whole point of enjoying any story to keep it in your heart for years instead of forgetting about it the moment it loses its popularity? How did classical literature or old movies/series survive and remain appreciated until today, for example? The DSMP fandom is alive because there still are people who deeply care about the characters, and it will keep on living until there’s at least one person passionate about it.

It is true that the DSMP fandom was bigger in 2020-2022, but it’s also important to remember the quality of the fanbase at the time. I remember seeing so much more harassment, especially directed towards people interested in portraying c!Prime’s canonically abusive dynamic without even exploring the aspect of /p physical affection; many people were forced to deactivate their accounts because of the insane amount of toxic reactions. There were also A Lot of people incapable of understanding that CC’s characters weren’t supposed to represent their real life personalities, which either led to certain CC’s harassment for being “horrible people” or to misinterpretation of certain characters (e.g. c!Dream, c!George, c!Sapnap, c!Quackity, or c!Sam), a huge amount of poor lore comprehension, leading to Lots of victim-blaming and abuse apologism.

Now that DSMP is over and less popular, a significant amount of people responsible for the fandom’s poor reputation is gone, and people who genuinely understand the characters and simply want to discuss and/or create content for their hyperfixation in peace, stayed. Of course, this fandom isn’t perfect or entirely free of Weird™ people, but there’s certainly less toxicity, and it’s all that matters.

The next time you feel ashamed of still enjoying DSMP, try to remind yourself of the wonderful memories, excitement, creativity boost, and friends it brought you, and focus on the fact that this story will remain alive for as long as you let it.

[s6daz]

First of all ,I love your sevika writings ❤️So Idk if you have anything you won't write .

Could you maybe write councler reader x councler sevika where they kinda get into a fight and agree to discuss the topic in private and one thing leads to another .

Thank you

♰ sevika x f!reader ִ ݁ ˖ ◜

cw: reader n sevika are councilors, reader is bit of a brat, enemies to lovers(?, stolen kiss

note: tysm i'm really happy to know that some people like my writing, i didn't want to make this too long so maybe i'll make a second part and please ignore that i don't remember the living councilors.

status: fixed

the piltover council was in full session but instead of advancing agreements and ideas, the room was being a total disaster of a verbal battle. tensions were always present when piltover and zaun clashed, but this time it seemed that the confrontation was really getting serious.

sitting on the other side of the table, sevika the councilor representing zaun, leaned forward with a relaxed but defiant posture. her mechanical arm rested on the beautiful marble surface while her eyes focused on you, with that mocking spark that irritated you so much.

"the pollution, the diseases, the hunger in zaun is all thanks to you all" sevika said with her voice full of contempt. "but of course, from up here everything is so bright, so clean... that it's so easy to ignore the mess they leave in their wake"

you took a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure before your cables went out because her words stuck like knives into your skin and you knew perfectly well that you couldn't stay silent.

"if zaun is in that situation it is not because of piltover" you responded with your words full of authority. "instead of blaming us for everything, why don't you look inside and ask yourself what are you doing wrong to make them this way?"

murmurs quickly spread through the room. some of the councilors exchanged nervous glances, while others were interested to see how far this dispute would go. sevika for her part, let out a low laugh full of sarcasm and leaned even further forward, her presence dominating the room.

"what are we doing wrong? you really are so disconnected from reality, councler?" sevika dropped her metal arm with a thud on the table that caused some of the counselors to panic. "you all have us in misery, you all rob us, you all exploit us, you all see us as little more than rats... but of course from your comfortable seat, it's easy to teach us a lesson, right?"

"enough already!" interrupted one of the counselors, an older man with a stern expression. "this council is not a place for personal attacks. we came here to find solutions civilly, not to turn this into a fight"

"we're not fighting" you replied although your tone betrayed your words "i'm simply pointing out that we can't continue to take care of zaun affairs when they themselves do nothing to improve"

"carrying our responsibilities?" sevika let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "please piltover has been squeezing us dry"

another of the counselors tried to intervene, her voice slightly shaking. "maybe both parties should calm down and focus on the facts, this conversation is getting us nowhere"

but neither you nor sevika seemed to want to listen, the tension in the atmosphere was heavy and every word they said seemed to fan the flame.

"zaun complains about being oppressed but every time we offer them agreements all they do is reject them" you said, ignoring the councilor words, crossing your arms. "maybe if they started to stop seeing us as their enemies we could advance"

"agreements?" sevika raised an eyebrow, mocking. "are you referring to those deals that tie us hand and foot, that leave us with the minimum while you all take all the profits? don't make me laugh"

"please stop it!" exclaimed a firm voiced counselor. "this is ridiculous. if you want to continue with this nonsense, do it outside of here. this council will not be the scene of your personal rivalries"

the silence fell like a heavy blanket, you felt all eyes on you but even so you continued to hold your gaze with sevika no matter what the others thought, you would not let yourself be twisted by sevika barely perceptible mocking smile that seemed to challenge you.

"fine" you said in a firm voice as you stood up from your seat. "if sevika has anything else to tell me, we'll discuss it in private"

without waiting for any response from her or the others present, you headed to the door. your heart was beating rapidly but you forced yourself to maintain a confident posture as you walked back down the council room and you knew perfectly well that sevika was following you: you could feel her dominant and heavy presence.

you arrived at a hallway away from the place where the light was dim and the atmosphere was peacefully silent. you turned sharply to face her, frowning as you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

"well, here we are" you said, your voice full of irritation. "what do you want, sevika? where are you going with all this?"

sevika stopped, her powerless figure just a few steps away from you. her mechanical arm creaked slightly when her moved it and her lopsided smile was still present, as if her enjoyed getting you out of your temper.

"me? i'm not the one with a problem here" she replied in that deep voice that managed to get on your nerves. "you're the one who seems obsessed with me"

"i'm not obsessed with you" you quickly defended yourself, your tone coming out sharper than you intended.

"of course not" sevika said sarcastically, taking a step towards you. "then why do you have the need to jump on the defensive whenever i'm around?"

"because i can't stand your arrogance" you said taking a step forward too, you wouldn't be intimidated. "you always come here with your accusations but you never offer solutions. all you know is to accuse and point the finger"

"and what do you offer?" sevika stared at you "an empty speech about progress? rules that only put us in a more complicated situation? you have no idea what it's like to live in zaun"

"you have no idea what i've done to get here!" you exclaimed, your voice shaking with frustration. "you don't know me, sevika. you have no right to judge me"

"and you have no right to talk about zaun as if you understood what we are experiencing" sevika replied, her tone rising in intensity.

the discussion continued to escalate with the words clashing like sharp swords, but after a while of arguing, sevika patience seemed to break and at that moment the spark of tension that the two of you had created exploded.

before you could react, sevika took a quick step towards you, grabbed you by the arms and pushed you against the wall. her lips collided with yours with a force that left you breathless, it was a kiss full of rage and contained passion.

at first you tried to resist and your hands pushed against her chest, but sevika strength held you back and the intensity of the moment began to leave you immobile. slowly, you began to give in, albeit clumsily, letting the tension between the two of you transform into something completely different.

when she finally pulled away, they were both breathing heavily. sevika gaze was intense on you and you couldn't help but notice that behind that bad mood there was something else, even so you couldn't help but feel confused and perhaps a little angry.

"what the hell was that?" you managed to say in a voice barely above a whisper.

sevika smiled, as if all that arrogance you hated came back to her. "let's say it's my way of shutting you up" her said before turning around and leaving the place, leaving you with your heart pounding and a mix of emotions that you didn't know how to handle.

you stayed in the hallway with your back still against the wall, trying to regain your composure, your thoughts were racing a mile an hour but you knew one thing well: after this nothing would be the same between you and sevika, even if you didn't accept it.

[mtheonott]

Are you serious? Not kidding?

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

⌗ raw!reader, comf, declaration of love, drunk!TheodoreNott, party, jokes and banter, flirt

word count: 2.2k

note: I'm tired of writing this... but it seemed to work out fine.

Theodore, the smartest student at Hogwarts, stood at the classroom door, looking at the large and thick walls that had been cracked for a long time. The guy didn't like to think about time, it drove him crazy. He tried to look at his time at Hogwarts from a more positive perspective, even though he was doing poorly.

The Slytherin noticed a human approaching out of the corner of his eye and turned around, "Ah... you're awake. I thought you were dead, sleeping beauty.", He grinned, keeping his hands on his hips.

A frail figure in a blue uniform was walking towards the guy along the empty corridor, clicking her heel, which was unforgivable for the Ravenclaw prefect. But we'll miss it. When you heard the greeting, you rolled your eyes in annoyance. A new day is a new batch of jokes and tricks. Nott just giggled at your reaction, waved at you and turned his head towards the classroom.

"Zabini suggested a drink after dinner. Are you with us?", He knew that you have a good relationship with a nice alcoholic. Standing next to him, you also looked at the closed doors. Transfiguration lesson. You crossed your arms over your chest and confidently stated, "I'll be busy." It is quite expected that a person like you will have things to do. But the guy's grin made it clear to you that he had come up with an interesting joke again.

"What's up? You didn't tell me. Have you found another boy who will make fun of you in the evenings?" You just sighed a little, "You're enough for me, nerd. I'm going to play chess with Potter."

Nott clicked his tongue, frowning. What an abomination, "Since when do you play chess? Are you trying to get closer to that ideal for half of Hogwarts?" You just giggled, slightly covering your mouth.

You've been in love with this Slytherin since freshman year and haven't looked at the other candidates. He is warmth and comfort. Calmness. Even though you don't want to admit it.

There was an orange landscape in the courtyard, which both Theodore and you liked, so your couple was in a better mood than the others.

"He offered, and I was just free. Nothing special," you said, looking a little more confident. Nott scratched his head, looking at his shoes, "You could have hung out with us then.", the guy sighed, "Okay. Come on, sleeping beauty."

He took your arm and led you to class. He took your arm. Took your arm for the first time. Your heart started pounding, literally trying to jump out of your chest. You followed him obediently, no matter where. All your thoughts were occupied by the fact that he was holding your hand.

The guy entered the office, which was filled with students. They were all waiting for the professor and watching another argument between a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw, not noticing Theo and you.

Nott came over to your desk, leading you along, "Hey?" he said, bringing you back to reality. You just looked at him absently and nodded. What for? You don't know. "I'm sorry, I was thinking."

The guy grinned, leaning towards you and resting his hands on the table, "Are you fantasizing about me? Baby, I can make all your dirty fantasies come true, just ask." He grinned and went to his friends, leaving you. You rolled your eyes and looked away. Idiot.

The girls have already taken you into their company, telling you about the latest gossip, and you were trying to distract yourself from thoughts of Slytherin. Just for a minute.

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Basically, the day went as usual: boring lessons, Tarot cards (jokingly) at breaks, discussion of Daphne's outfit for the ball and Nott. Theodore Nott has taken literally every second of your time. Not just thoughts. The guy showed up at every break, at every meal, and at every free minute. It's fun for him. Maybe for you too.

In the evening, when Potter reported on important matters with "urgent questions," you still decided to go to Zabini. Why not?

Entering a noisy room, you waved to a familiar bunch of guys at the door, hugged your friends and only glanced at Zabini, who had already found a girlfriend for the evening. You'll say hello to him later. The main thing is different: Nott. He noticed you too and immediately stood up, inviting you to sit next to him, "Little witch, sit down.... It's good to see you."

Of course, sitting down with him is a bad idea. What if the jokes get to a physical level? Although, it's kind of good... nonsense. Okay, calm down. You sat down next to him, nodding at his greeting, "Potter is busy, I decided to stop by."

"Oh, so our hero is busy? It's a nuisance. Okay, here, ah... firewhisky and like... that’s all..." Nott looked thoughtfully at the table, remembering what else he could offer. Unable to think of anything, he turned to you and smiled. "You always have me, you can eat and drink me."

You raised an eyebrow and squinted in his direction, "Sorry, I'm on a diet. I prefer not to eat after 6"

The guy first blinked, trying to figure out your joke, and then grinned and nodded, "Yes, yes, I understand… I just, well..." He lazily pointed at a couple of bottles of alcohol. They were pointlessly empty on the table, almost shouting: "Nott is drunk out of his mind."

You nodded in disappointment, "Every time you're not in class, you're fucking around." Theo smiled brightly, closed his eyes and nodded confidently. Like a dog, which is not like him during lessons and Quidditch practice. "That's right. That's why I'm given a life here."

Sighing, you were about to get up, leaving the drunk guy, so as not to get any problems. You never know. But he stopped you by first pulling you by the arm, and then holding you by the shoulders with both hands. Nott made fake sad eyes and almost whimpered, "Heeeeey... stay with me, at least for a couple of minutes. You're always leaving in my dreams, and now..."

In dreams? What kind of nonsense is this? You tilted your head to the side and frowned, "Did you dream about me? What the..." Theo didn't let you finish. He put his finger on your lip, silencing you and leaned in, "It's a secret. It's better not to tell anyone that I have dreams at all. Suddenly, someone will get into my head..." he whispered, and then looked around. The guy met her gaze again and continued, "I heard someone here can do this."

Your surprised eyes slowly became irritated, "Nott, this is a story for children. Are you nuts?" The Slytherin laid his head on your shoulder, nuzzling your collarbone. Your ears turned slightly red, which made you want to push him away so that no one would notice. But you didn't do it.

The guy said sleepily, "Did you know that you smell great? Patchouli, cedar leaves, bergamot... it smells like autumn." Your heart skipped a beat. Compliments like "Cool lipstick," "Wow, great styling," or "Cute boots." had no effect on you. But this description of your scent... Nott hugged you around the waist, breathing heavily, "You're right. I must be crazy to be in love with..." but he couldn't finish.

Blaze ruffled his hair, silencing him with his abrupt arrival and smiled happily at you, which made you feel calmer, "Hey! Did you come anyway? I see that the idiot is already drunk... keep an eye on him, and I'll leave with... uh... in short, with the pretty Gryffindor. Don't be bored."

You didn't even have time to greet him, let alone respond to his request. He disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone on that couch again. More precisely, there were people here... but they are not felt. Absolutely.

Nott looked out into the crowd, trying to spot his friend, but to no avail. Then he turned to you and grinned, drunkenly rather than cockily, "Would you sleep with Zabini?"

The question has brought you to a standstill. You stared at his alcohol-reddened face and blinked a little, "Well... you know, such questions shouldn't be asked. But I would rather answer no than yes." Theo nodded and rested his head on your shoulder again, which made your heart beat faster again, "And with me? Would you sleep with me, Y/n?" he muttered, closing his eyes.

You blushed again and swallowed, "You know... I'm not going to answer that question. This is unethical and uncivilized, Theodore Nott. "His hands were resting calmly, without movement, on your waist. He nodded again and sighed, "But I would with such a beauty." You are used to skipping such comments, it's not the first time you hear. But now your eyes were darting in different directions, nervously and touchily. You don't even understand why you're offended. Because he's drunk and says things like that? Maybe.

"Okay, Theo, let's go for a walk. Let's try to slow down the negative effects of alcohol's toxic substances on your brain." You gently helped him up, still holding him in your arms. Not because you wanted to, but because he wouldn't let you go. When you straightened up, he finally released you from his grip. Surprisingly, his drunken state still allowed him to walk and stand, but you still helped him get out of the noisy space.

The Slytherin common room was cold and empty. You quietly went out into the hallway of Hogwarts, holding his hand. Nott didn't take his eyes off you, smiling drunkenly. After looking around, you walked on, wandering through the already night-time corridors of the school. He was still holding your hand, now looking at the floor. The silence was pleasant rather than embarrassing. Quiet footsteps, rustling of clothes, faint wind and sighs. Nothing more.

After going out to Ravenclaw Tower, you went to the window overlooking the lake. The clean air allowed you to think clearly again. Theo leaned against the wall, looking up at the night sky, "Sorry about tonight. I... well..."

"You'll sober up and apologize, Nott. There's no need to annoy me again." you replied, still looking at the lake. His gaze fixed on you and he grinned, "That's what I like about you. So serious. Like you are ready to kill… This little walk brought me back to my senses a little bit, don't worry. Accept my apologies."

You still looked at him and nodded, "Okay then, nerd, I forgive you."

Theo leaned over to you, smiling a little brighter, "So you're ready to forgive me? Are you not indifferent to me?"

Raising an eyebrow, you looked at him in surprise, "You seem smart, but the train of thought is not logical... do you want me to feel something for you so much?"

The smile faded from his face and he nodded with a serious expression, "Yes. Why not?"

You shook your head and turned back to the lake. It stood out from everything else, which caught your attention. Like Nott.

The guy touched your cheek, silently forcing you to look at him, which you did. He bent down a little more and said, "Even though I'm drunk, but when I talk about love, nothing affects the words. I want you to feel something for me. Because I am. I... just, hm..." This time, he let go of his gaze. Theo stared at the floor, trying to find the right words.

You stared at him dumbfounded, trying to digest the words he said. Then you swallowed and replied uncertainly, "Well, I... feel... something." He looked up and stared at you hopefully, "Yes? You're not kidding? Fuck, I'm drunk, for sure..." The guy ran his hand over his face and looked at you through his fingers, "Are you sure you said that? Are you serious? Not kidding?"

You chuckled softly and shook your head, "Not kidding." Nott immediately pulled you by the waist, eagerly biting into your lips. It was as if he had turned one of his million bedtime fantasies into reality. You were stunned, but you accepted the kiss by hugging his neck.

The moonlight was spying on this moment, illuminating your faces. No, although you needed the kiss so much, it was rather gentle, warming you on this autumn night.

Soon you broke away from each other. Nott leaned back to look into your eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't know... I don't remember why anymore. But I'm sorry." You nodded, also not knowing what he was apologizing for, "Okay. Anyway, I forgive you, nerd. You know... you have an insanely long tongue. Shut up already." You grabbed him by the collar of his black shirt and pulled him back for a hotter kiss.

You spent the rest of the evening walking around Hogwarts. Silently and contentedly. The wind contrasted with the warmth of his hands, leaving a pleasant feeling, like brownies with ice cream. And you don't need anything more. You will remember this moment for the rest of your life.