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cherry-hulu · 1 day ago

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greetings...i respectfully would like to place down my 2 cents for diamond life

reader is hard at work under the desk in woozi's studio, whenever a member-specifically shua and minghao or honestly whichever member wants to blow off some steam while recording, all woozi has to do is pull them off him, hold them by the hair and let said member go nuts...the sadists that they are 🤐

�� Accelerando!

Warnings: woozi x free use!reader x joshua x the8, cockwarming, oral (m receiving), tears, gagging, lots of cum, voyeurism, filming

More like this... Diamond Life : The Series

Recordings can either be the smoothest sailing days or the harshest battles against the flow. Sometimes it would be over in a few hours, sometimes it could take up the whole day.

When the members said Woozi practically lived in his Universe Factory, they meant in. He even had his own foldable bed in it and everything. All his amenities at one place for his comfort.

Out of all the members, Woozi would argue that he benefited from you the most. He had always loved the idea of cockwarming, especially while he worked on his chair. The idea of someone keeping his cock warm and hard while he made music was magical.

You sat under his desk, legs crossed, eyes closed, head resting on his hard muscle packed thigh, mouth occupied with his heavy thick dick in your mouth. You may seem at rest but your tongue definitely wasn't. Occasionally moving, licking the veins from the sides of his cock. Throat constricting at carefully calculated times.

"Lets do one more run towards the end. I wasn't satisfied with the last part, I think both of you can do more." Woozi spoke, his fingers pressing on the button talking to Joshua and Minghao who was in the booth recording for a duet.

Minghao sighed and nodded, Joshua just held his headphones in understanding. The two calmest members of the group, but the last person they'd want to piss off. An enigma of the saying 'The calm before the storm.'

The two went for a few more rounds in the studio, before slowly, the frustration started creeping in, tension building up in the booth until it was showing in their voices.

Truth is, Woozi was doing this on purpose, he believes that there's no better view than you choking and crying on a dick. He would always do it to you, loving the bulge his cock would imprint on your throat, the way your glassy eyes look up at him showing no signs of thinking, completely dumb and cock drunk.

As much as he loves seeing it in first person, he can't help but wonder what it'd look like in second. The boys really have spending alot more time together, Seungkwan's enthusiasm over exhibitionism was starting to get to him.

"Hyung.. I don't think I can do it anymore, it's getting overwhelming. We've been here for hours repeating the same line over and over again. I need a break." Minghao complained, ever so well thought out and collected, but his body language says otherwise. He looked stiff, eyes tired and basically begging for rest.

"I agree, I think it would be better for us to have a break and recollect ourselves, maybe it's the exhaustion that's causing the bad outcomes." Joshua nodded, looking back and forth between his friends.

You open your eyes at the sound of their voice, looking up to Woozi with a hopeful look. He told you of his plans asking for consent, and you eagerly nodded not even a second after the words left his mouth making him chuckle and call you a slut.. which you ultimately got heated up over, and no, you didn't beat him to death, but your pussy may say otherwise.

The pale man was silent for a minute as if he was thinking, before ultimately agreeing and letting the boys out. As the duo leave the booth, Woozi pulls his dick out of your mouth making your saliva drip all over the floor and off his dick.

Rolling his chair to the side, he reveals you to the boys, looking pretty all wet and open wide for the two. "It would be better for you two to release your frustrations rather than have them bottled up, 'no?" Woozi said, dick standing up and and as proud as himself for his plan execution.

"Yeah, definitely." Joshua sighed, pulling his dick out of his pants, getting harder and harder each passing second as you crawl on your fours to get to him. He gives his dick a few strokes before shoving himself in all the way in your mouth.

Joshua, Seventeen's Gentleman, was nothing like the man the public perceives of him. He was anything but gentle, always leaving you bruised and nearly unconscious after fucking you. Cuffing you down, pressing you hard against the bed, everything but being gentle.

Minghao was silent, but he wasn't non threatening, situating himself behind you, his focus immediately zeroed in on your exposed cunt. You were wearing only a thin oversized shirt — probably from Mingyu — and nothing else. What was the point of wearing under wear when it's just gonna be put aside anyways?

The chinese man was known for his relentless and often unfiltered mouth. He wasn't any different in sex, seemingly having developed an oral fixation on your pussy, always eating you out whenever given the chance to. He usually starts off slow, before adding his fingers, and going feral using you.

Your whimpers were muffled by the dick inside your mouth, heavy and big. Joshua surprisingly was starting off slow as well, probably due to the younger kneeling behind you. But his pace doesn't stop him from going rough. Giving you deep, hard thrusts, that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Tears were already rolling of your face, muted gagging sounds emmited from you as he sensually fucked your mouth as if it was your cunt.

Woozi felt like he was in a real life porno. Sitting like a king in his chair with his legs in a manspread, slowly jerking off his hard on. From his perspective, the bulge on your mouth was extremely evident. Him and Joshua were pretty similar in girth, having only an inch difference in length.

From behind you, Minghao was finally starting to quicken his pace. Slender fingers now toying with your cunt, tongue lapping and licking all over you resulting in nasty slurping sounds. He didn't knew whose cum was mixxed with yours, but whoever it was, his diet must be healthy for it to taste this good. Or maybe it was just your magic.

His tongue slides in and out of you, practically cleaning you up to get you ready for a fresh new batch of cum inside of you.

Joshua was now collecting your hair and putting it up in a pony tail, his big hands giving him no struggle with the task. You mentally prepare yourself as this was his ritual before losing all his mercy on you. He groaned as he gives you a deep hard thrust, before pulling out and pushing back in, this time with a much faster, deeper, pace.

Minghao moves his face away from your cunt, opting to finger you instead. His dick was getting painfully hard, having been ignored for too long. His patience runs thin when he's horny.

Finally taking his dick out, he pushes in inside of you, immediately matching with his hyungs pace in a way that he was in fucking into you at the same time Joshua was. Two dicks pressing deeply inside of you at the same time, at the same intervals.

You sounded and looked like a mess. Torn between gagging and moaning. Your face was flushed, full on crying now. Had it not been for Joshua in front of you, your face would be on the floor planted flat right now.

Woozi was shamelessly jerking off while watching the whole thing. His mind has orchestrated alot of masterpieces throughout his life, this was no doubt one of them.

"Agh.. fuck." Joshua strangled out as he came in your mouth, forcing your face into his dick, nose pressing against his pelvis. He was a heavy heavy cummer, emphasize on heavy if it hadn't been yet. Always leaving you full or choking even more on his cum, not just his dick.

Sweat was dripping of his forehead as he look down on you, panting with veins visible all over his arms and face. "Good girl, good job. Take it all. All of it." Joshua praised in a husky voice, clearly worn out from todays activities. But no matter how tired he was, he would never pass out on your hole.

Minghao followed soon after, filling up your other hole with his own cum. He rocks his hip back and forth into you creating a ring of cum around his dick. "Hyung.. look at this." Minghao called out, eyes focused on where the two of you connect.

It was all Woozi needed for him to cum as well. Cursing under his breath as a string of cum spurts out his dick, landing all over his chair, shirt, and even on the floor.

Joshua reached out to his back pocket for his phone. Opening the camera, he hit the record button making surs to catch your face in the frame.

Slowly, he pulled his dick out of you, a flow of his cum dripping out of your mouth. You were panting like a dog, eyes blown out, all fucked out to realize that there was a camera in front of you. Joshua pressed a thumb on your tongue, prompting you to open up more.

He dragged his thumb from your tongue to your lip, spreading cum all over. Angling his phone to where it catches the both of you, he pulled you into a kiss, tasting and cleaning his cum from your mouth. Tongues lapping all over each other, dirty sounds coming from the two of you. Alternating between open mouth kisses to French kissing.

"Fuck, hyung." Minghao whispered when he felt his dick getting hard again. Looks like it won't be just the three of them who'll be working hard in the studio today.

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ylangelegy · 13 hours ago

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like real people do ☢️ seungcheol x reader.

little is known about the apocalypse of 2017. a century later, archivists are now unveiling the relics they found from those who lived through that time.

★ seungcheol x reader. ★ word count: 2.1k ★ genre: alternate universe: apocalypse, alternate universe: soulmates (the only way for your scars to disappear is when your soulmate kisses them goodbye), angst, romance. ★ warnings: major character death. depictions of death/violence, injuries/scars. established relationship; suggestive scenes but no real smut. set in a fictional apocalyptic world. doubling down on the angst warning; i cannot say with any certainty that this is a happy ending. ★ footnotes: this is part of my follower milestone event. viv gave me an inch (a request for angsty seungcheol) and, in turn, i am giving her a mile (a whole thing instead of just a ficlet). mahal kita, @heartepub! this will be the last hozier brainrot i offer you— for now. + much thanks to @gyubakeries and @tusswrites for beta reading! love you both to the end of the world. ❤️‍��

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ like real people do by hozier. apocalypse by cigarettes after sex. i know the end by phoebe bridgers. fourth of july by sufjan stevens. interlude: i’m not angry anymore by paramore. atlantis by seafret. end of beginning by djo. nobody’s soldier by hozier.

When the fish started dying, you did not think: This is how the world will end.

Why would you? The decimation of marine mammals and seabirds didn’t make the news. The misguided scientific breakthrough that triggered everything was kept under wraps.

It isn’t until much later, until the damage is irreparable and the Rapture is imminent, that you will realize it.

The world as you know it is ending— but at least you have Seungcheol.

There’s some cruelty in the timing of it all. The two of you had just moved in with each other, coasting on the honeymoon phase of a long-term couple with a new thing to share. The paint on your apartment’s walls had yet to dry when the government declared a state of national emergency.

Dozens of other countries followed suit not long after, all blaming one thing or the other. Food crises. Social unrest. Cultural collapse.

“This is crazy,” Seungcheol grumbles.

The television is playing clips of a hurricane tearing through the Philippines. Extreme weather conditions, the reporters are saying. Due to the rise of CO₂ levels.

You and Seungcheol are sprawled out on the floor, watching it unfold. The furniture store meant to deliver your couch has delayed shipment until further notice.

Seungcheol has always been the sulky type, though the expression on his face nowadays has been less of his trademark pout and more of a serious frown. You can feel his growing agitation in the stiff way he holds you, in the set of his eyebrows.

“It’s crazy,” you agree quietly, resting your hand on his knee in a bid to calm him a bit. “But it’ll pass.”

Your touch seems to give some sort of reprieve. He rolls his shoulders. He unclenches his jaw.

“It’ll pass,” he echoes, reaching out to intertwine your fingers.

Neither of you knew just how wrong you could be.

April 8, 2017

Weird times. Cheol knows just how anxious I get when I’m cooped up, so he encouraged me to pick up journaling. I’m not sure how much this will help, but it’s worth a try.

It’s been a month since everything has essentially gone on ‘lockdown’. The news says that all of this started because researchers wanted to regulate harmful algae. Their genetically engineered virus ended up infecting all algae, and now the majority of phytoplankton are just... dead.

I don’t know what to write about. Terrible oxygen levels? Seafood costing a fortune? This ‘work from home’ system everyone is trying to figure out?

I guess I should just write about the good stuff. That way, when I look back on these entries, I can remember something good.

Today, Cheol tried to fix a leaking faucet himself instead of calling for a plumber. We flooded the kitchen floor, and ended up wet from head to toe.

I cooked pasta, called mom and dad on Skype, and watched the latest episode of Santa Clarita Diet.

Once everything opens up again, Cheol and I have to visit my parents. (And ‘get better screwdrivers’, he claims.)

When Seungcheol first kissed you, you did not think: This man is my soulmate.

It had been a clumsy, shy thing, traded way back when the two of you were high schoolers still stealing away from your eagle-eyed parents. Seungcheol liked to wax poetics about how it was perfect even though you know that first kiss was more a clash of teeth than anything.

You don’t discover the truth of everything until a couple of years into dating. Seungcheol had gotten into playing basketball, and, one evening, you absentmindedly pressed your lips to a scar he had at the bend of his elbow.

The mark smoothed out instantly.

Seungcheol had giggled at the development before spending the rest of the night kissing every inch of your skin that he could reach— injured or not. You still think it’s one of your best memories as a couple.

Kisses that healed scars. You hadn’t believed in the stories yourself until it had happened to you, until you realized how fortunate you were that your soulmate wasn’t halfway across the world or something. No, you had your soulmate, and he was more than willing to kiss away all your wounds.

You had counted yourself as lucky. You still think you are, even now, as Seungcheol strokes your hair and holds you to his chest in the pitch black darkness of your apartment.

His voice is quiet and small when he speaks up. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” you mutter back.

“I’m sure this isn’t what you imagined,” he says. “For us moving in together and everything.”

An amused snort escapes you. Of course that would be your boyfriend’s concern. There’s the rotational power outages and the merciless prices of goods due to inflation, but Seungcheol is worried about your expectations not being met.

You shift in his hold. The days have been getting warmer and warmer, and the evenings are no exception. Seungcheol has taken to sleeping shirtless. You’re a couple of celsius away from doing the same.

“It’s not your fault that we decided to move in together for the end times,” you say into the skin of his bare chest.

He gives the small of your back a light thwack. “What have I said about the apocalypse jokes?” he chides lightly.

You roll your eyes. He shouldn’t see it in the darkness, but he knows you all too well. “And don’t roll your eyes at me!”

His reprimand draws a short laugh from you. Even that feels like a monumental effort, like it's a waste of good air.

Seungcheol doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the two of you waking up in pools of your own sweat, doesn’t care that there are whole government newscasts on how to preserve oxygen in enclosed spaces.

He holds you like a lifeline and kisses you until you’re breathless.

“Cheol,” you whine against his mouth, the protest already at the tip of your tongue. The end is near; sex should be the last thing on your mind.

But then Seungcheol’s fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, and he sounds so, so sweet when he mumbles, “Yes, soulmate?”

That’s always gotten to you.

“Unfair,” you groan as you work on shucking off your own clothes. “You’re so unfair.”

In between giggles, he kisses every part of you. Again, and again, and again.

June 15, 2017

Cheol and I are on the run.

He keeps telling me not to call it that because it supposedly makes us sound like criminals. I think it’s just funny, and God knows I need something to find humor in.

As badly as I want to say “we have gone through worse before,” that would be a lie. We’re out of our apartment and trying to make our way to some place where there’s better air quality. In the meantime, we’re living out of his car. It’s so funny to me that I’ve started laughing until I’m crying.

Anyway, the good stuff: Today’s sunset painted the sky purple. We snagged some still-cold cans of Sprite in an abandoned 7-Eleven. Cheol spotted a family of ducks crossing the road, pointed it out, and said “us, soon!”

Us, soon. It feels dangerous to hope, but that’s all I seem to do nowadays. That and being on the run. (Cheol made me strike out that last part, but whatever.)

When Seungcheol finally admits to you that he is scared, you did not think: This means that things are much, much worse than I thought.

Maybe because there were bigger concerns, like the car’s blinking fuel warning light and the scratches littering Seungcheol’s arms. Like the fool that he was, he had gone against your well-meaning advice to not look for help.

He did not return unscathed.

Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you rip open a Band-Aid. It’s one of the few that the two of you have left, and Seungcheol seems to remember the fact. He reaches out to stop you.

“Hey, c’mon,” he urges, obviously trying to aim for levity. “You know there’s other ways we can fix me up, right?”

The frown that tugs at your lips shows that you’re still less-than-pleased at his little stunt.

“Maybe if you didn’t head out in the first place,” you grumble. “We wouldn’t need any of this.”

Seungcheol looks like he might push back, but seems to decide against it at the last minute. Instead, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and gives you a gentle tug.

“It won’t happen again.” His tone is edged with remorse, enough to almost convince you. Almost.

“No more playing hero?” you ask.

A corner of his lip twitches upward. “No more playing hero,” he concedes before tugging at you again.

You let him. You move closer into his space until you’re practically in his lap, until you’ve got a better view of the angry red cuts on his skin.

Tentatively, you press chaste kisses to the injuries. Seungcheol’s hands find purchase at your waist and he tilts his head back, letting you work your magic. He’s quiet as your lips trace over each gash and wound, as you take away all the hurt with the ghost of a kiss.

After a moment, he mumbles, “Is it bad that I want you right now?”

“Seungcheol.”

“Okay, okay.” A beat. “I want you all the time, actually.”

“Shut up!”

The sound of his laughter fills the car. It’s enough to have you forgetting his murmured confession of fear, the vulnerability that he had tried so quickly to cover up with affection. For a moment, there is nothing else in the world except this, except you, except him.

September 23, 2017

Is it weird to say that I’m starting to forget what it was like before all of this happened? Cheol is trying to assure me that it’s to be expected, that we’ll all be back to ‘normal’ soon, but I don’t even remember what normal is like anymore.

I can’t forget. I don’t want to forget. And so here is a small list of things I took for granted:

The first breeze that tells you winter is coming

The kindness of people who don’t know you

The smallest fish in the sea

Date nights with Cheol

Clean water

Breakfast

My parents

Cheol says there might be some biodomes ahead. Oxygen-regulated habitats. It sounds like something only the rich can afford. We don’t have a lot left between the two of us, and it’s getting harder to jump from building to building.

But there’s something waiting for us on the other side— right? There has to be.

May the best of my todays be the worst of my tomorrows.

When the gunshot rang out, you did not think: This is it.

Seungcheol never gave you any reason to think that way. He had held your hand as you raided rundown grocery stores. He had positioned himself in front of you when there were stampedes. The world might have been ending, but he was with you.

He was with you even when the strangers you ran into started getting more aggressive. He was with you even when fights would break out over necessities like water and medicine.

“People are dangerous when they're desperate,” he’d tell you softly— still his rational, kind self even when faced with the worst of mankind.

He was with you. He was kind. He was yours.

Even when the bullet lodged itself right between his ribs.

There is not much that you remember after that.

The people dispersed. The cause of the fight— a can of chicken noodle soup, once your comfort food— lay forgotten on the floor.

The love of your life, staring unblinking at the sky.

When you sink to the ground, you’re moving purely on instinct. Your quivering lips press over his chest, over the red blossoming and staining his shirt.

You kiss him. Again.

And again.

December 1, 2017

The kisses don’t work on bullet wounds.

▸ Archivist’s note: The following entries are undated and some portions had been redacted/deemed untranscribable. We are led to believe that the author struggled to cope in the aftermath of their soulmate’s death. For posterity, we have still reprinted their final entries.

You’re so unfair.

I still want you.

Things I took for granted: ███████, you, ███████, youyouyou.

What now?

My love, it’s only a matter of ███████—

▸ Archivist’s note: Nothing follows.

This concludes our transcribed logs. The full collection can be viewed at the National Museum of Remembrance.

It is our deepest regret that the author is unnamed and that they cannot be properly credited. However, we know of two things with certainty.

We know of a man named Seungcheol, and we know that he was loved.

#seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol angst #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt angst #seventeen angst #seungcheol drabble #( last of my cheol writing for now. i swear )#( but viv gave me this prompt and i just kinda blacked out like ????? Ahahahaha .Whatttt )#( this could have been much longer but im conked out and there is only so much emotion i can manage *shakes fist* )#( ANGST I MISS YOU )

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allsadnshit · 4 hours ago

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Wow I just had the most in depth weird dream about reconnecting with my ex best friend and talking about love and dating and literally the whole dream was just us walking and talking in a loop from the Main Street in our old neighborhood we used to chill on to her house then to my house I lived in with my dad in high school just catching up about everything and it was so amazing to just talk and I woke up now feeling so disoriented!!! I wouldn't trade the life I have now for anything but I do miss her so dearly! I honestly think it's so tragic but also special that we truly can never sever those ties! I used to wonder if she ever missed me deep down but to be honest even if she said she didn't I truly feel that real love is never one sided and that even if the current her is glad we aren't friends anymore than somewhere in the universe little us is still running around eating 99 cent cinnamon buns together just walking and talking eternally

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who-can-touch-my-boob · 18 hours ago

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<- love and deepspace masterlist

Hey, so guys—I’m gonna write a whole ass theory/not-theory post about love and deepspace. Please give me your own thoughts and excuse my rambling it’s 2 am and I’m supposed to be asleep.

—

No but I actually need the LI to interact in game, I know (think or read somewhere) that the love and dating parts are separate timelines and in the “main” timeline MC doesn’t romanticise any of them(?). Anyway not my point, my point is that they all canonically exist in the same place and Caleb is probably the one tying everyone together.

I swear I believe it was Caleb that Rafayel talked to in the nest place where he lead MC so she could find the Onychinus. There was also a TikTok someone made (probably as a joke) of why Rafayel’s reaction to MC feeding him an apple threw him off.

Caleb is also Zayne’s childhood friend, but alright I’m gonna take a little spin off and ask;

When Zayne is reborn, does he remember everything immediately? Does he as a child bear memories of his previous lives as an adult? Or does the memories come to him with age?

Because IF the case is that Zayne already as a child knows of his past with MC and still has the powers of seeing the future, did he perhaps purposefully become friends with Caleb and MC?

Alright back to the main plot point of my post.

I dunno much about Xavier because I don’t have his full 5-star myth yet, but I do know he’s travelling through space and time (?) and that dude knows some shit. He’s most likely also being extra overprotective because of Caleb, like he’s maybe met an alternative version of him in the past?

Oh, but then there’s Sylus.

I’m just saying, Zayne, Rafayel and Xavier all helped MC find the Onychinus and if they truly thought she would be in life threatening danger they probably would’ve stopped her.

I don’t know how!!! But I’m just yapping so stay with me, ok? They all wanted her to find Sylus, because Sylus is the only one strong enough to protect her.

They probably know about the aether cores, that MC can use the dragon to their advantage. However they didn’t realise that MC and Sylus actually share half of each soul, that they are two kindred spirits.

Oh-ho! But Caleb knows, and Caleb haaaates it. Because he, the one who imprisoned Sylus to begin with, wants nothing more than to see the dragon back into the abyss. Because Caleb, the whole reason he’s in MC’s life is to get to Sylus.

Knowing she’s the key to the dragon, he decides to use her, manipulate her into thinking he’s nothing but a kind and loving friend. Sadly, Caleb didn’t anticipate that he too would be smitten by MC.

So everything just turns complicated now, because in the “main timeline” where MC doesn’t romanticise any of the LI, they’re all very much in love with her.

Gods and when they finally all meet… I’m envisioning like the Deepspace throwing every universe together, causing the past, future and present to mash up and fuck the whole reality… and something something Ever.

#love and deepspace lore #love and deepspace #lads #lnds #lnds sylus #lnds zayne #lnds rafayel #lnds xavier #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace xavier #lnds caleb #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #lads sylus #lads zayne #lads xavier #lads rafayel

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magicalrocketships · 2 days ago

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You talked in the author's note about having more thoughts on Max's sexuality in Breaking every rule for you. I'd love to hear more about that, if you want to? 🤍

Oh, thank you for asking!! I did a whole disassociation thing after I posted the last chapter and I was like "it's very important to reply to comments and asks about this fic which meant a lot to me to write and to receive" and then I simultaneously thought orrrrr, alternatively, you can keep putting that off because you won't be able to properly tell people how much all the comments and asks meant. Anyway, that's a perfectly sensible series of thoughts to have, which brings me to this ask.

So, Max in Breaking Every Rule For You. This is half brain-dump, half director's cut of Max's POV. Either way, I accidentally wrote 3000 words about my beloved, feral Max. Sorry? Not sorry. I'll always want to talk about him 🧡🧡

He has literally no conception of this (and neither does Daniel), but he's very much on the asexual spectrum. He's demisexual, which is a word he's never heard and wouldn't know to use even if he had.

He continues to tell the truth about his experience of life, but Daniel doesn't know enough to understand what Max is accidentally telling him, and Max doesn't know that his experience isn't universal. So! This fic is basically Max experiencing sexual attraction for the first time.

OBVIOUSLY this does not excuse Max behaving monstrously to Zoe and being hopelessly cruel to Daniel. He is, however, experiencing a lot of stuff for the first time and he didn't know! That he could feel like this! He is horny about someone else for the first time in his life! He'd be feral anyway, and he and Daniel stay completely feral after the fic's done and long into the future, feral and horny and all over each other, but there's this whole extra layer to it that's just Max being like... you can feel like this about another person? You can want someone THIS MUCH? You can want to fuck and come and kiss and touch another human being? Everybody in the world isn't lying about wanting it?

So on the one hand you've got Daniel's much more linear experience of oh, fuck, I've been bisexual all along, and the person who's opened my eyes about it is Max, what does this mean for my life and am I allowed to have something with Max for the longer term? In contrast to Max being so fucking thirsty to experience all of these things he's wanting for the first time, and barely understanding what it is he's wanting and the impact on the lives of the people around him who love him. He's so fucking needy and he barely understands the reasoning behind that, but that's partly why he keeps bringing Daniel back and reminding him of everything he's promised, everything Max is dying to experience but hasn't yet.

Even like, right back at the beginning when Max wants pictures of Daniel, it's because he's literally never felt attraction to another person. He's never looked at someone's body and wanted to touch it (or, in Max's case, to come all over him over and and over again and make him fucking filthy and his and have him show Max how he touches himself and how he looks soft and hard and horny and everything in between).

And all the things he wants to do to Daniel, he's never done to anyone else because he was horny about it. Everything he's done is because he thought he should, because he thought everyone was faking it when they said they were horny for touching other people. He can't slow himself down. He wants all of it. And then he'll do things like just warm Daniel's dick because he didn't know it felt good, and it feels so good.

On the other hand, Max has a fixed conception of love and relationships and they are work. They are a job. He has had girlfriends because he was supposed to have girlfriends and he's literally not figured out he's gay because he's not been close to a man long enough for attraction to develop, and with Max it takes a lonnnnng time, he's known Daniel for years and it's only been in the past few months it's started to change how he feels about him, ever since Daniel said he was going to leave and Max realised he not only wanted him to stay, he wanted him. And he doesn't want what he has with Daniel (something good) to crossover into relationship (something bad, something that's work, something that's always been a to-do list item) because then it will be bad. Max is getting every single thing he wants for the very first time in his life, of course he wants to keep things exactly how they are and ringfence this space in his life where Daniel is and he's getting everything he wants. The downside is that it's horribly cruel, but he doesn't entirely understand that, because he doesn't entirely understand either how he feels or how Daniel feels, and because he thinks that what he experiences is the universal, which is that relationships and love are bad and work.

I kind of love that Max at the beginning isn't a great kisser - Max kisses like he jerks off, fierce and unimaginative. A race to the finish line. One day Daniel will make him slow it down. And part of that is literally because he's never enjoyed it before. He's never kissed anyone he wanted to have kiss him back.

But also, Max loves to jerk off. He loves to jerk off. Masturbation is the one thing he's always loved to do, because he's never been low on sexual desire, just attraction. He's jerked off thinking about Daniel before, too. Even before being really attracted to him. It's sort of why he wants Daniel in his bed, not because it's where he shares with Zoe when she's in Monaco, but because it's where Max jerks off, which is the one hugely positive sexual thing he's ever had in his life. Yeah, there's also some kind of "having a girlfriend is boring and work and I'm beating the system by having a better time in the space where that boring work happens" but Max isn't pre-meditiatively cruel in this. His cruelty is a by-product.

Also: Max doesn't know that things can be better than what he has.

He's barely managed to get his shirt off before Max is launching himself at him, making some Max-like attempt at human touch by cupping Daniel's face in his hands and pressing their mouths together. It's not romantic. It's not anything, other than fast, and maybe a little furious.

"You talked about kissing me," Max says, pulling away just enough that Daniel can feel the heat of his breath against his mouth. He's still cupping Daniel's face, and Daniel wants to cover Max's hands with his own and keep him there, make him stay still, make time slow down for them just this fucking once. "You said you thought about it. Kissing me. I've never kissed anyone like that, Daniel. I want it."

Max is telling Daniel the truth but Daniel doesn't pick up on it. Max hasn't ever kissed anyone like this before. And he wants it.

Daniel spends a lot of time thinking about Zoe. Max doesn't think about her at all. He buys Daniel gifts because he's wild about him, because he needs to, like, put some of what he's feeling out into the world but he just— doesn't know how to do it. He's overflowing with it.

"Think all the time about kissing you," Max tells him, still kneeling over him, leaning in so that he can mouth at Daniel's neck, kiss him so that Daniel will have a fucking love bite he'll have to cover with concealer if he wants to leave the house. Daniel doesn't stop him. Max can mark him up any way he wants. Daniel will take any scrap he can get. People shouldn't live off scraps, but Daniel will take anything Max throws at him. He'll judge himself later. "You have a good mouth, Daniel, I think about it so much." He kisses Daniel's jaw, along the line of it, over his stubble and up to his ear. It is not foreplay. It is just Max, taking what he wants. Daniel giving it because he wants the whole fucking lot of it and to drown in it afterwards. Better drown than starve. Max kisses his cheek, the corner of his mouth. Once, twice. The side of his nose. Is this Max, trying to be gentle with him? Trying to give something he normally only takes?

And then Daniel changes things, he tries to break up with Max and Max goes insane with it. For Max, Daniel really is ruining things. He is being a stupid motherfucker. This really is just sex because Max doesn't know how to understand what he's feeling. And he doesn't want to feel! Feeling is bad. He keeps trying to make the feelings stop. Of course Max just keeps trying to take things back to the space where things were working, because he wants it so much. Of course he's jealous, because he's fucking feral and a mess and he has no idea how to feel things like a real boy, because he never fucking has, and how he feels about Daniel is really fucking easy if only he knew how to identify or name any of the feelings he's feeling.

So yeah: Max is heartbroken for the first time in his life, but he also just doesn't understand it. His chest hurts. He wants Daniel back in the space where it was all working. Daniel isn't the stupid motherfucker, Max is, for not managing to keep it so that Daniel would still kiss him and want him and touch him and text him, and Max is for not being able to stop himself from feeling stuff he doesn't understand. And then Zoe goes, and he doesn't feel anything. Not really. The only thing he's thinking about is Daniel. And then you get Max's entirely pragmatic, ruthless side, whereby he just makes sure Daniel is safe. He pays whatever he needs to pay to make sure Zoe is satisfied. He tells her the truth about not feeling about her the way he feels about Daniel. He doesn't mean to be cruel. It's a by-product again. It still is hopelessly cruel. He still only wants Daniel. He's the stupid motherfucker, not Daniel.

And all the time, Max thinking he can get Daniel back to what they had before if only he keep trying. He knows Daniel wants him back. And he thinks he's getting it. He thinks he's getting Daniel back. It's want like he's never wanted. He thinks he's managed it, and then Daniel just— shuts him down. And Max just… breaks. It takes him by surprise as much as it takes Daniel when he sees Max crying, like he's crying and he didn't mean to start but he also can't stop. He loves him. That's what this is.

"You are not listening," Max says, wiping his tears on his shoulder. "All of this time I am trying and I am trying not to want you and not to feel things but it did not work and I do and I did and I feel it in here and it won't stop." He presses the side of his fist to his chest, like Max is referring to his own fucking heart, which he can't be, because Max is Max, and Max doesn't feel anything, and he doesn't fucking feel anything for Daniel. "It is not fair that you won't listen. Always I am asking how do I make it stop, because you are just supposed to be sex, you are dick and that is for the dark and instead you are always just here, in my head and you have made me go mad thinking about you. Everything I do is very insane and it is all about you and my girlfriend left me and I do not care because she is not you and you tell me that you miss me too but now you are saying no when I want you more than I want anything and it is not okay."

It's the first time in his life he's ever been in love, and he's trying to make sense of it because he couldn't stop loving Daniel if he tried, but here's Daniel telling him he doesn't, and that he's stopped, and that is just— so far outside of Max's understanding. It's not fair and it's not okay and he doesn't know how Daniel could stop loving him if love is what he feels back for Daniel.

And then he stays. He tells Daniel that no one kisses him like Daniel does. He says: "Nobody touches me like you do," Max says, which is probably a lie since Zoe loved him and wanted him and probably would have touched Max any way he wanted if he'd only told her. "Nobody, Daniel, nobody makes me feel like you do."

Daniel makes a soft, unholy noise in the back of his throat.

"It's true," Max says, urgently. "It is true."

Daniel doesn't realise how true. That no one has ever made Max feel or want like this. That this is the first time he's ever been attracted to someone.

And for Max it's so clearly worlds apart from him and Zoe. They're not comparable.

"She was my girlfriend," Max says. "But I didn't love her like I love you."

For a moment, Daniel's brain judders to a halt. It's felt like he's been on a constant spin cycle since last night, but for a moment, everything's still. "Yeah?"

"With you it is very different," Max says. "Everything is very different."

He keeps stroking the inside of Daniel's wrist. Daniel can't think of anything to say. He just watches Max touch him.

"Of course I kissed her, Daniel. She was my girlfriend. I did all the things you're supposed to do with your girlfriend. You cannot be tearing yourself up into knots about her when she is gone and you are here."

And

"I thought about your dick a lot. I thought I would like to see it. I jerked off and used my fingers and thought about you jerking off. I thought if I was going to suck a dick then it would be nice if it was yours."

"You had a girlfriend."

"Yes. I had everything I was supposed to want. Red Bull and Zoe and one day I will have my World Championship. But not you because you are a stupid motherfucker and you left me."

And Max loves jerking off. It's his favourite thing.

But like, Max finally gets what he didn't know he wanted, which is more than just having sex at regular and irregular intervals, he gets a boyfriend, someone he can actually love and want to be with and it's all turning his conception of relationships and love upside down and he has to re-evaluate how that fits into his life, because relationships have been a boring part of work before, and now they're not, so he just has to… figure that shit out.

This conversation where Daniel asks Max if he's gay:

"Max," he says softly, after a minute. "Max, do you like girls?"

Max shifts on the pillow. He rolls his eyes. "Of course I do, Daniel, do not ask stupid questions. They are 50% of the population."

"I'm not—" Daniel searches Max's face. He wants to find something there that Max isn't showing him, some measure of understanding, of common ground beyond the fact that they're fucking and in love. "Do you like dating them?"

"I am dating you," Max says, as if he's talking to someone who barely understands English.

"Yes, but. Before. Did you like having sex with girls?"

"Zoe was my girlfriend. Of course I liked having sex with her."

This isn't Max just obfuscating. He hasn't defined himself as gay. He is, but he didn't necessarily— need to know it or define himself as such? It just wasn't important to him. He didn't really want to have sex with anyone so not wanting to have sex with girls less than him not wanting to have sex with guys he wasn't attracted to didn't matter so much? And now there's Daniel so it's even less of an issue because it turns out he can ferally cheat on Zoe for months and still not intend to ever be with anyone who isn't Daniel.

Honestly it's more of a journey than Daniel will ever know to get Max to this:

"I will do better," Max says, when there's nothing else coming, and Daniel's about to step out into the road. "I will learn, Daniel. To be a good boyfriend."

It's not something he ever even considered before, and now not only does he want to, he's going to work on it too.

Max smiles at him. He still fingers Daniel, because Max likes to multi-task and do it efficiently, but he lets his gaze rest on Daniel's. He looks happy. He looks so, so happy. "It has never been like this," he says, and Daniel doesn't say because you've been having sex with girls and you don't like them. He'll believe it's just about him. That Max feels like this about him and him alone.

Max telling the ultimate truth - it never has been like this, not a single element of it. Not kissing, not sex, not loving somebody else. Daniel doesn't entirely hear it, but then why would he? Even Max doesn't realise how much of a truth it is.

"I always thought people were lying about kissing," Max says, without moving or looking at him or anything. "It was so boring. Everyone had to be lying. Nobody could like it unless they liked boring things."

What the fuck.

"So boring," Max says. He still doesn't move or look at him "Sex was boring too. I didn't know why anybody went out of their way when they could just jerk off. Masturbating was so much better than sex, Daniel."

Christ. Daniel's fingers twitch in Max's. "Did you ever think that was because you didn't like girls? And you kept having sex with them?"

"Eh," Max says, and shrugs. "I kissed boys too. Two of them. It was still boring."

Daniel's never thought sex was boring. He's liked it pretty much every time he's had it. He's been kissing girls since he was 14 and could make them laugh enough to kiss him over bags of crisps after school. He thinks about the two boys Max has kissed. What he did with them. When it was. Who it was. If he really thought it was awful. "Do you still think it's boring?"

Max shifts at that, twisting so he can look up at Daniel with the most insulted, don't be fucking stupid look on his face. "I have just licked my come out of your ass, Daniel. I want to have sex with you all the time. All of the things I jerked off thinking about doing I want to do with you. I want to kiss you forever."

Anyway. TL;DR, Max is demisexual and is new to sexual attraction and wouldn't be able to label himself as that if somebody paid him.

#breaking every rule for you #director's cut #kind of??#waffling on about fic #anyway!!!! I will talk about this forever

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vhstown · 3 days ago

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malala windsor ★ general headcanons

a/n: i love this girl to death you don't even know man... thank you to my friend sadi for talking to me about this character at less than ideal hours 🙏 i hope you like these! a little shorter than my other ones but i don't have much to go off okay...

When she originally gets her powers she's at the mosque for Friday prayers and her hands get stuck to the carpet and she's just stuck in prostration. Everyone sheds a tear from how dedicated she is to her religion but really and truly she's praying the skin of her hands isn't ripped off 😭😭😭 The whole mosque is empty and my girl is STILL there.

Definitely the talk of the town for a while. Loved and hated by Muslim aunties alike. There's a chunk of the carpet missing that's in the shape of her hands. Everyone just knows thats her spot.

Apparently her last name is supposed to represent the House of Windsor... I don't really have anything to add except for the fact that I think it's really funny. I feel like she actually does have a Desi or Muslim last name but really plays into the "Bri'ish" joke at Spider Society except they take her 100% seriously and now she's stuck with the Windsor on her spider ID (and she cringes bad whenever she sees it.)

Hijabi activewear for life. Wears it everywhere for practicality and also the crazy UK heatwaves.

TfL warrior. She can quite literally swing to places when she becomes Spider-Woman but she can't give up her aesthetic tube girlie lifestyle. Has her book and headphones and everything and endures the horrible ear pop on older lines with a straight face. She's kind of serving but the restaurant is empty cause it's London and nobody really cares. (Also I feel like London would be really annoying to swing through cause everything is shaped so differently and the train is probably faster..)

Loves sports. Totally feels embarrassed and tries to act uninterested but is a beast on the court. Plays every single sport you could think of but lover of basketball and badminton (she is not a coconut when it comes to badminton like me OKAY!)

Cannot cook to save her life (she's trying okay... I AM NOT PROJEC)

Has so many frankensteined hijabs in her closet from making suits. Feels like a total genius when she figures it out and geeks out about it to other spiders at HQ even if they've heard it like a billion times.

I think she knows a woman who's a lot like Jessica Drew in her universe so she's more friendly with Jess than anyone else would be. They totally like to gossip over coffee and tea and the bajillion strange UK biscuit variations in the break room (she DESPISES the 2099 cafeteria food).

Her universe's Uncle Ben is an electrician and he sometimes drags her around to his electrician jobs. She's there begrudgingly but definitely has a eureka moment when she remembers something niche and engineery he explained to her while working at someone's house when she's on a sneaky little mission.

Humanities babe. I know all the spiders are STEM people but I like to think she's into humanities and absolutely just free balls all the tech stuff and actually gets pretty good at it. Maybe explodes a few things. I think she's one of those people in her class that LOVE to debate. An absolute menace in history and politics.

She's from East London. No elaboration needed.

That's about it for now! BIG UP MY DESI GIRLS!!!!!!!! YEAHHHHHHH

thank you for reading! check out my atsv masterlist here!

#vhstown #malala windsor #spider uk #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #atsv headcanons #spiderverse headcanons #spider woman #spiderman across the spiderverse

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cursedtrans · 3 days ago

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Stars in Lobotomy Corporation and Libary of Ruina

Spoilers for Lobotomy Corporation and Library of Ruina

Stars in Project Moon are a incredibly eldritch and horrific concept, and they have massive implications for the story of Limbus and Project Moon as a whole.

Let's start with the origin point of the Project Moon universe, Lobotomy Corporation, and the references to Stars and the Galaxy as a whole there.

Note: While many Lobotomy Corporation abnormalities are based on mere trauma or city lore (such as W Corp inspiring Dimension Shredder or the Head inspiring the Bird Trio), I believe there is extremely important info thanks to several real characters and events having references to the Cosmic Trio's events in their logs.

There's three specific abnormalities that call out the concept of Outer Space and everything it contains. In my opinion this is very notable, as other groups like the Wizard of Oz, Magical Girls, and Bird Trio are all highly important abnormality groups that take up multiple abnormality slots.

First off is the TETH level abnormality Fragment of the Universe.

They're the lowest risk rating of their outer space related brethren, but subsequently have some of the least cosmic horror. While their cry is enough to damage both the mind and body, and is incomprehensible to mortals, it's not that relatively dangerous compared to other concepts.

Likewise, it's by far the most innocent of it's kindred. It's a mere part of outer space that is trying to 'sing' to mortals to convey it's love to them, and it's entire physical form is created by it's connection with a small child. (it wanted to make the child happy, and thus took on the form it uses now)

It doesn't seem to understand the damage it's doing, but it seems to have a permanent effect on certain individual's in it's lobotomy corp logs. All of them seem to be repeating the phrase "coming, coming, still coming" and other incomprehensible noises, and staring into the sky.

Second off, Child of the Galaxy, HE Level.

Child of the Galaxy is a very interesting abnormality that never breaches, but does get extremely violent when someone they care about seems to forget them by instantly killing them. While not uncommon in Lobotomy Corporation, it is a significant thing for them to have the instant kill at any range and no limit on their number of targets.

Additionally, it seems aware of what it's doing. It's extremely possessive in it's log and seems to know that it's very presence and pebble is haunting the person writing the log. Of note is his final two logs, which will show some themes that repeat over and over. I can't take it anymore. I can't escape him. I thought I was in charge, but the truth is I was just a pebble in his hands the whole time. Whatever I do, wherever I go, I hear his whispers. (I have to end it, but I’m not even sure if I can.) -- "...I came from afar. I'm so glad to meet you. Become a pebble, and let's walk the galaxy together..." I hear his whispers and breath. Pitch black darkness follows... just like the night I met him."

Finally, Blue Star, the Aleph level.

Blue Star is an extremely potent abnormality that seems to break out if the person working it is not competent enough, and is capable of massive areas of sanity damage. Even moreso, when they do finally wear down someone's sanity, they absorb them into themselves.

Their abnormality log details some very important details, including the rising of a cult that is infected with certain thoughts, that want to willingly throw themselves into the center of certain abnormalities (read:blue star). Additionally, one of these infected members writes a letter detailing some very important info.

"We are all sinners, and our Blue Star is the only sanctuary that accepts us. We will be cleansed of our sins there. We all go back to that place someday. This is an instinct. You thought Emily died when she threw herself into the Star, but she simply returned to her rightful place. She's a martyr. She has become an eternal star. The rise of a star is a brand new beginning. Don't you hear the everlasting sound of the trumpet? When you stand close to the Star, you can hear the welcoming cheers and singing. If every employee returns to that place, only Blue Star will remain here. Let us meet again as stars."

This begins some of the themes of Stars and Outer Space as a whole in Project Moon, and one of the key ones is rebirth. The employee writing a log ends up being requested to become another pebble by the Child, and each of the cultists of Blue Star firmly believe that they will be reborn as stars when they end up in Blue Star.

Ruina compounds on these cultists by showing us them and their idol in tandem. Notably, Blue Star is not fought, a trait shared solely by Apocalypse Bird (a symbol of the omnipresent and invincible head that rules over the City) and WhiteNight (a symbol of the omnipresent ghost over the City that distorts people into monsters) The only way Blue Star is beaten is by destroying it's Shrine, which ends the fight immediately. Additionally, Blue Star's only action in this is to emit a simple sound through it's Shrine. It does not slam the floor like Apocalypse Bird or emit circles of hell like WhiteNight. It's so far out of our reality that all it can do is show itself and sing through it's statue. Blue Star is also arguably even more important in Limbus, because of the host of connections it has to both the Blue Man Group and several different Star related abnormalities, but that's a post for a different day.

All that is to say for now is, don't be afraid of the stars in Project Moon. All they want is a new life for you...

(as usual thanks to @lu-is-not-ok for inspiring posts and getting me to think about the unregistered abnormalities in Limbus, and sending me down a Star rabbit hole)

#analysis #project moon #lobotomy corporation #library of ruina #spoilers

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like-tears-in-rain-storms · 1 day ago

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Ok just had to share because I've been seeing these people all around and yet it had never happened directly to me.

So, great review of Nosferatu, and I get into A Situation with a person claiming that Orlok is a psychic pdfile rapist of child-Ellen and what's more, the covenant he tricked her into making with him symbolizes a marriage contract,thus Ellen is the analogue of a child bride and a denunciation of the buying and selling of women as brides through history and during that period in particular - also class analysis of how he's a parasite that sucks people dry, yadda yadda, we all know the class analysis. Now that's certainly....a take, and tbh I can see some elements of it sleekly fitting in with the way Eggers structures his themes, but to treat it so absolutely as THE explanation of such an intricate narrative....yeah. I had some issues with that.

And the whole affair ends with that person telling me verbatim, I kid you not, "you should examine why it is that you have a romantic reading on such an one-sided relationship between an undead rapist killer and his teenage victim".

And I'm like....what is this supposed to be? An own? Is it supposed to make me stop dead on my tracks and go "oh yeesh. Why am I romanticizing the goddamn gothic romance????? Am I some kind of monster? A ticking time bomb who'll listen tomorrow about a teen grooming victim of some degenerate and go "yeah but consider that she might have called on him on her dreams to liberate her and spread Covid around"???

To make a long story short, that passive-aggressive urge to self-psychologize with the hint that there's something wrong with myself did absolutely nothing to me,and I can explain it already as I did.

I had a romantic reading because I like gothic romance.

That's it, that's all the answer needed.

But I'm feeling rambly, so I'll elaborate. Because I like sounding the depths of the human mind and will and I like imagining it against powers that defy human measures. Because I like to imagine human nature as a universe, full of it's own destructive phenomena, natural disasters, secret cave systems and toxic geysers. Because in fiction I am free to do so, and can taste flavors that I would never seek out in the real world, like the vertigo of fulfilling the need for self-destruction, or the grandeur of being worth more than the entire world to someone, and what's more, I can acknowledge they exist, and can safely follow them to their logical limits from behind the safety of a book cover. Because on the page we can live out what can't be lived out in the real world even if we tried and because "some things belong on the page, others in life, and it's a blessed fool who can't tell the difference" and I don't know how others see themselves, but I am neither blessed nor a fool.

So needless to say, that wasn't the one it was probably intended as. Really interesting, though, to see such limited-minded puritanism take the stand on the event of Nosferatu coming out. Really interesting how, somehow, they are sounding more and more like crusaders of moral purity for the easily-deceived masses, only now dressed in some righteous "anti-abuse" garb, like abuse in the world will be affected if someone on the internet says that maybe the devouring embodiment of darkness that was rotting alive in the movie had some lasting and fatal effect on Ellen, and it didn't have to be love for it to be defining.

The real question is, why when your limit is the sky and you can make playgrounds out of your mind, do people feel the need to bring everything down to the unromantic, pedestrian and depressive reality that surrounds us whether we want it or not? As far as passive-aggressive urges for self-reflection go, I think that's a much more potentially productive one.

#Bro or sis truly thought they did something there #nosferatu really did bring me back from the dead #nosferatu #nosferatu 2024 #ellen hutter #count orlok #robert eggers #gothic romance #Romanticism

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astradyke · 3 hours ago

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No please tell us your thoughts on dinok, dinok is all I think about all the time

i waited to answer this for a really long time because i have been struggling to formulate some of my thoughts. i have two main thoughts about DINOK, but i only really explore one of them because i have long since thought the other one was a bit reductive-- which was essentially exploring the implications of Phil's absence in DINOK. i don't think phil himself, as much as i love him, should be centered or heavily involved in the discussion about DINOK, because as i go on to elaborate, i think everything internally and from an external meta about DINOK was very much about dan transitioning from a rumination period of his life to one where he confronts the idea of moving forward.

i think DINOK is fascinating when put in comparison to WAD, because both of them were functionally intended to do the same thing but had drastically different journeys.

DINOK was based on dan's experience with his sexuality in particular, based on the premise that if dan never came out as gay he would end up being a lawyer and et cetera et cetera, having a breakdown at age 30. from there he goes through a comedic journey (in a dark comedy way) where he reconciles with his own sexuality, and by the end presumably finds that kind of self acceptance and happiness. in a lot of ways, that end goal is really similar to WAD (as is the dark comedy because Woah), except WAD is a lot more global in its end goal-- with the idea that everyone may be doomed, but there is so much good in the world anyway, and so much one person can do to fight against that doom-- and is also a bit broader when it comes to dan! WAD is about dan's sexuality, but it's also about dan reconciling with the rapidly changing and- to him- deteriorating world. and with that comes some questions about his own content and other parts of his identity. it's about more than just his sexuality-- which is NOT to say that making a special about just his sexuality "wouldn't be enough", that's not my point at all. but what i'm saying is there's a difference of scope, and i think that difference came... because of DINOK.

like, DINOK is riding off of the freedom he experienced coming out in basically i'm gay. but as we saw repeatedly BIG didn't resolve a ton of dan's issues with his sexuality-- from his one-off comedy gig and gay and not proud (note that content in G&NP was cut by youtube for the original so we only saw a slivered down version. that being said im still insane about it but, as a disclaimer) we see that he struggled to feel pride with his sexuality despite having come out, didn't know where he fit into the queer community as a whole, and was altogether ruminating. DINOK, in my opinion, was dan trying to answer those questions fully in his own terms. it's him trying to grapple with the struggles he still has around his sexuality through the POV of a different version of him that may experience that more "acutely" than dan does-- because from a public perspective, dan very much is part of the queer community! he was like one of the top role models for queer British teens as voted recently in that one magazine i don't remember the title. but internally, it's different, and getting to explore that through the lens of DINOK Dan who does NOT present as being super in the queer community was probably a cathartic thought!

but with the inability to produce DINOK due to YouTube's overall negligence, that left dan in a strange position. his sexuality now felt almost used against him because of all these fucking originals he was getting dragged into, builboards in the like-- his sexuality was something that he should be proud of, with all these accomplishments and shows, but they felt hollow and not like something he really deserved. and that inherently segues into talks about capitalism and fame as a whole because -- after DINOK failed, dan was no longer working with hypothetical alternate universes, but was instead forced to reckon with his own.

quick detour to dystopia daily because i am really fond of it-- i think DD was also part of the WAD process in that it's about dan being trapped behind this persona but using it to kind of explore content creation, and himself, and in a lot of ways i think the performance was a satire but in other ways i think it was a cocoon phase. testing the waters of the future of daniel howell's content, but through dragging an antiquated persona into a different time in order to ask that. so i think it runs like DINOK -> DD -> WAD.

and by the end of WAD dan came out of it feeling more authentically himself, not liberated by the performance from DD, and not liberated through the proxy of his alternate universe self in DINOK. WAD is dan having to reckon with this as HIM, as daniel howell in the years 2022 and surrounding, as his own person. i admit at this part of the post that i did watch WAD but haven't rewatched it and that a lot of the segments weren't really my favorite so i don't actually remember beat for beat what happens in WAD (i'm more invested in WAD as a meta than as an actual stage show with segments, to be honest), but like... overarchingly that is about dan! it ends in a painfully vulnerable place, and he sheds away from the black and the shadows to start wearing orange and enter kind of this new phase of dan howell. one where he is more openly queer but is also more openly... everything! and we see all of that now when we see new content with dan and how happy he looks.

DINOK fascinates me because i wonder if the end outcome would have felt the same for dan. i think DINOK roots itself less in existential crises as a whole and more specifically those about his sexuality, while WAD asks the question of "what comes next?" which i think is really interesting and is also more helpful.

which is why, though i sometimes think about the fact that book deals tend to come in twos (fly high DAPGO) and that dan has only released one book thus meaning he could release DINOK as a book, the more i think about it the more i... don't think he would. i think the time for DINOK has passed. i think it was more of a psychological state for him, a rumination, and from here on it's about moving forward. to the day after the night.

... if any of this makes any sense at all, God i am yapping. but i hope you get it? i hope you get it.

#dan is not okay #we're all doomed #daniel howell #dan and phil #astra.meta

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 days ago

Text

Chapter One of “Picks and Shovels” (Part 1)

Picks and Shovels is a new, standalone technothriller starring Marty Hench, my two-fisted, hard-fighting, tech-scam-busting forensic accountant. You can pre-order it on my latest Kickstarter, which features a brilliant audiobook read by Wil Wheaton.

My next novel is Picks and Shovels, out next month. It's tells the origin story of Martin Hench, my hard-charging, scambusting, high-tech forensic accountant, in a 1980s battle over the soul of a PC company:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865908/picksandshovels

I'm currently running a Kickstarter to pre-sell the book in every format: hardcover, DRM-free ebook, and an independently produced, fabulous DRM-free audiobook read by Wil Wheaton, who just nailed the delivery:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/picks-and-shovels-marty-hench-at-the-dawn-of-enshittification

Picks and Shovels opens with a long prologue that recounts Marty's misadventures as a failing computer science student at MIT, his love-affair with computers, and his first disastrous startup venture. It ends with him decamping to Silicon Valley with his roommate Art, a brilliant programmer, to seek their fortune.

Chapter one opens with Marty's first job, working for a weird PC company (there were so many weird PC companies back then!). I've posted Wil's audio reading of chapter one as a teaser for the Kickstarter:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IGXz1mkAd2Q

(Here it is as an MP3 at the Internet Archive:)

https://ia600607.us.archive.org/5/items/picks-and-shovels-promo/audio.mp3

The audio is great, but I thought I'd also serialize the text of Chapter One here, in five or six chunks. If you enjoy this and want to pre-order the book, please consider backing the Kickstarter:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/picks-and-shovels-marty-hench-at-the-dawn-of-enshittification

Chapter One

Fidelity Computing was the most colorful PC company in Silicon Valley.

A Catholic priest, a Mormon bishop, and an Orthodox rabbi walk into a technology gold rush and start a computer company. The fact that it sounded like the setup for a nerdy joke about the mid-1980s was fantastic for their bottom line. Everyone who heard their story loved it.

As juicy as the story of Fidelity Computing was, they flew under most people’s radar for years, even as they built a wildly profitable technology empire through direct sales through faith groups. The first time most of us heard of them was in 1983, when Byte ran its cover story on Fidelity Computing, unearthing a parallel universe of technology that had grown up while no one was looking.

At first, I thought maybe they were doing something similar to Apple’s new Macintosh: like Apple, they made PCs (the Wise PC), an operating system (Wise DOS), and a whole line of monitors, disk drives, printers, and software.

Like the Mac, none of these things worked with anything else—you needed to buy everything from floppy disks to printer cables specially from them, because nothing anyone else made would work with their system.

And like the Mac, they sold mostly through word of mouth. The big difference was that Mac users were proud to call themselves a cult, while Fidelity Computing’s customers were literally a religion.

Long after Fidelity had been called to the Great Beyond, its most loyal customers gave it an afterlife, nursing their computers along, until the parts and supplies ran out. They’d have kept going even then, if there’d been any way to unlock their machines and use the same stuff the rest of the computing world relied on. But that wasn’t something Fidelity Computing would permit, even from beyond the grave.

I was summoned to Fidelity headquarters—in unfashionable Colma, far from the white-hot start-ups of Palo Alto, Mountain View, and, of course, Cupertino—by a friend of Art’s. Art had a lot more friends than me. I was a skipping stone, working as the part-time bookkeeper/accountant/CFO for half a dozen companies and never spending more than one or two days in the same office.

Art was hardly more stable than me—he switched start-ups all the time, working for as little as two months (and never for more than a year) before moving on. His bosses knew what they were getting: you hired Art Hellman to blaze into your company, take stock of your product plan, root out and correct all of its weak points, build core code libraries, and then move on. He was good enough and sufficiently in demand to command the right to behave this way, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. My view was, it was an extended celebration of his liberation from the legal villainy of Nick Cassidy III: having narrowly escaped a cage, he was determined never to be locked up again.

Art’s “engagements”—as he called them—earned him the respect and camaraderie of half the programmers and hardware engineers in the Valley. This, in spite of the fact that he was a public and ardent member of the Lavender Panthers, wore the badge on his lapel, went to the marches, and brought his boyfriend to all the places where his straight colleagues brought their girlfriends.

He’d come out to me less than a week after I arrived by the simple expedient of introducing the guy he was watching TV with in our living room as Lewis, his boyfriend. Lewis was a Chinese guy about our age, and his wardrobe—plain white tee, tight blue jeans, loafers—matched the new look Art had adopted since leaving Boston. Lewis had a neat, short haircut that matched Art’s new haircut, too.

To call the Art I’d known in Cambridge a slob would be an insult to the natty, fashion-conscious modern slob. He’d favored old band T-shirts with fraying armpit seams, too-big jeans that were either always sliding off his skinny hips or pulled up halfway to his nipples. In the summer, his sneakers had holes in the toes. In the winter, his boots were road-salt-crusted crystalline eruptions. His red curls were too chaotic for a white-boy ’fro and were more of a heap, and he often went days without shaving.

There were members of the Newbury Street Irregulars who were bigger slobs than Art, but they smelled. Art washed, but otherwise, he looked like a homeless person (or a hacker). His transformation to a neatly dressed, clean-shaven fellow with a twenty-five-dollar haircut that he actually used some sort of hairspray on was remarkable. I’d assumed it was about his new life as a grown-up living far from home and doing a real job. It turned out that wasn’t the reason at all.

“Oh,” I said. “That makes a lot of sense.” I shook Lewis’s hand. He laughed. I checked Art. He was playing it cool, but I could tell he was nervous. I remembered Lucille and how she listened, and what it felt like to be heard. I thought about Art, and the things he’d never been able to tell me.

There’d been a woman in the Irregulars who there were rumors about, and there were a pair of guys one floor down in Art’s building who held hands in the elevator, but as far as I knew up until that moment, I hadn’t really ever been introduced to a homosexual person. I didn’t know how I felt about it, but I did know how I wanted to feel about it.

So Art didn’t just get to know all kinds of geeks from his whistle-stop tour of Silicon Valley’s hottest new tech ventures. He was also plugged into this other network of people from the Lavender Panthers, and their boyfriends and girlfriends, and the people he knew from bars and clubs. He and Lewis lasted for a couple of months, and then there were a string of weekends where there was a new guy at the breakfast table, and then he settled down again for a while with Artemis, and then he hit a long dry spell.

I commiserated. I’d been having a dry spell for nearly the whole two years I’d been in California. The closest I came to romance was exchanging a letter with Lucille every couple of weeks—she was a fine pen pal, but that wasn’t really a substitute for a living, breathing woman in my life.

Art threw himself into his volunteer work, and he was only half joking when he said he did it to meet a better class of boys than you got at a club. Sometimes, there’d be a committee meeting in our living room and I’d hear about the congressional committee hearing on the “gay plague” and the new wave of especially vicious attacks. It was pretty much the only time I heard about that stuff—no one I worked with ever brought it up, unless it was to make a terrible joke.

It was Murf, one of the guys from those meetings, who told me that Fidelity Computing was looking for an accountant for a special project. He had stayed after the meeting and he and Art made a pot of coffee and sat down in front of Art’s Apple clone, a Franklin Ace 1200 that he’d scored six months ahead of its official release. After opening the lid to show Murf the interior, Art fired it up and put it through its paces.

I hovered over his shoulder, watching. I’d had a couple of chances to play with the 1200, and I wanted one more than anything in the world except for a girlfriend.

“Marty,” Art said, “Murf was telling me about a job I thought you might be good for.”

The Ace 1200 would have a list price of $2,200. I pulled up a chair.

Fidelity Computing’s business offices were attached to their warehouse, right next to their factory. It took up half of a business park in Colma, and I had to circle it twice to find a parking spot. I was five minutes late and flustered when I presented myself to the receptionist, a blond woman with a ten – years – out – of – date haircut and a modest cardigan over a sensible white shirt buttoned to the collar, ring on her finger.

“Hello,” I said. “I’m Marty Hench. I—uh—I’ve got a meeting with the Reverend Sirs.” That was what the executive assistant I’d spoken to on the phone had called them. It sounded weird when he said it. It sounded weirder when I said it.

The receptionist gave me a smile that only went as far as her lips. “Please have a seat,” she said. There were only three chairs in the little reception area, vinyl office chairs with worn wooden armrests. There weren’t any magazines, just glossy catalogs featuring the latest Fidelity Computing systems, accessories, consumables, and software. I browsed one, marveling at the parallel universe of computers in the strange, mauve color that denoted all Fidelity equipment, including the boxes, packaging, and, now that I was attuned to it, the accents and carpet in the small lobby. A side door opened and a young, efficient man in a kippah and wire-rim glasses called for me: “Mr. Hench?” I closed the catalog and returned it to the pile and stood. As I went to shake his hand, I realized that something had been nagging me about the catalog—there were no prices.

“I’m Shlomo,” the man said. “We spoke on the phone. Thank you for coming down. The Reverend Sirs are ready to see you now.”

He wore plain black slacks, hard black shiny shoes, and a white shirt with prayer-shawl tassels poking out of its tails. I followed him through a vast room filled with chest-high Steelcase cubicles finished in yellowing, chipped wood veneer, every scratch pitilessly lit by harsh overhead fluorescents. Most of the workers at the cubicles were women with headsets, speaking in hushed tones. The tops of their heads marked the interfaith delineators: a block of Orthodox headscarves, then a block of nuns’ black and white scarves (I learned to call them “veils” later), then the Mormons’ carefully coiffed, mostly blond dos.

“This way,” Shlomo said, passing through another door and into executive row. The mauve carpets were newer, the nap all swept in one direction. The walls were lined with framed certificates of appreciation, letters from religious and public officials (apparently, the church and state were not separate within the walls of Fidelity Computing), photos of groups of progressively larger groups of people ranked before progressively larger offices—the company history.

We walked all the way to the end of the hall, past closed doors with nameplates, to a corner conference room with a glass wall down one side, showing a partial view of a truck-loading dock behind half-closed vertical blinds. Seated at intervals around a large conference table were the Reverend Sirs themselves, each with his own yellow pad, pencil, and coffee cup.

Shlomo announced me: “Reverend Sirs, this is Marty Hench. Mr. Hench, these are Rabbi Yisrael Finkel, Bishop Leonard Clarke, and Father Marek Tarnowski.” He backed out of the door, leaving me standing, unsure if I should circle the table shaking hands, or take a seat, or—

“Please, sit,” Rabbi Finkel said. He was fiftyish, round-faced and bear-shaped with graying sidelocks and beard and a black suit and tie. His eyes were sharp behind horn-rimmed glasses. He gestured to a chair at the foot of the table.

I sat, then rose a little to undo the button of my sport coat. I hadn’t worn it since my second job interview, when I realized it was making the interviewers uncomfortable. It certainly made me uncomfortable. I fished out the little steno pad and stick pen I’d brought with me.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Hench.” The rabbi had an orator’s voice, that big chest of his serving as a resonating chamber like a double bass.

“Of course,” I said. “Thanks for inviting me. It’s a fascinating company you have here.”

Bishop Clarke smiled at that. He was the best dressed of the three, in a well-cut business suit, his hair short, neat, side-parted. His smile was very white, and very wide. He was the youngest of the three—in his late thirties, I’d guess. “Thank you,” he said. “We know we’re very different from the other computer companies, and we like it that way. We like to think that we see something in computers—a potential—that other people have missed.”

Father Tarnowski scowled. He was cadaverously tall and thin, with the usual dog collar and jacket, and a heavy gold class ring. His half-rim glasses flashed. He was the oldest, maybe sixty, and had a sour look that I took for habitual. “He doesn’t want the press packet, Leonard,” he said. “Let’s get to the point.” He had a broad Chicago accent like a tough-guy gangster in The Untouchables.

Bishop Clarke’s smile blinked off and on for an instant and I was overcome with the sudden knowledge that these two men did not like each other at all, and that there was some kind of long-running argument simmering beneath the surface. “Thank you, Marek, of course. Mr. Hench’s time is valuable.” Father Tarnowski snorted softly at that and the bishop pretended he didn’t hear it, but I saw Rabbi Finkel grimace at his yellow pad.

“What can I help you Reverend Sirs with today?” Reverend Sirs came more easily now, didn’t feel ridiculous at all. The three of them gave the impression of being a quarter inch away from going for each other’s throats, and the formality was a way to keep tensions at a distance.

“We need a certain kind of accountant,” the rabbi said. He’d dated the top of his yellow pad and then circled the date. “A kind of accountant who understands the computer business. Who understands computers, on a technical level. It’s hard to find an accountant like that, believe it or not, even in Silicon Valley.” I didn’t point out that Colma wasn’t in Silicon Valley.

“Well,” I said, carefully. “I think I fit that bill. I’ve only got an associate’s degree in accounting, but I’m a kind of floating CFO for half a dozen companies and I’ve been doing night classes at UCSF Extension to get my bachelor’s. I did a year at MIT and built my own computer a few years back. I program pretty well in BASIC and Pascal and I’ve got a little C, and I’m a pretty darned good debugger, if I do say so myself.”

Bishop Clarke gave a small but audible sigh of relief. “You do indeed sound perfect, and I’m told that Shlomo spoke to your references and they were very enthusiastic about your diligence and . . . discretion.”

I’d given Shlomo a list of four clients I’d done extensive work with, but I hadn’t had “discretion” in mind when I selected them. It’s true that doing a company’s accounts made me privy to some sensitive information—like when two employees with the same job were getting paid very different salaries—but I got the feeling that wasn’t the kind of “discretion” the bishop had in mind.

“I’m pretty good at minding my own business,” I said, and then, “even when I’m being paid to mind someone else’s.” I liked that line, and made a mental note about it. Maybe someday I’d put it on my letterhead. Martin Hench: Confidential CPA.

The bishop favored me with a chuckle. The rabbi nodded thoughtfully. The priest scowled.

“That’s very good,” the bishop said. “What we’d like to discuss today is of a very sensitive nature, and I’m sure you’ll understand if we would like more than your good word to rely on.” He lifted his yellow pad, revealing a single page, grainily photocopied, and slid it over the table to me. “That’s our standard nondisclosure agreement,” he said. He slid a pen along to go with it.

I didn’t say anything. I’d signed a few NDAs, but only after I’d taken a contract. This was something different. I squinted at the page, which was a second- or third-generation copy and blurry in places. I started to read it. The bishop made a disgusted noise. I pretended I didn’t hear him.

I crossed out a few clauses and carefully lettered in an amendment. I initialed the changes and slid the paper back across the table to the bishop, and found the smile was gone from his face. All three of them were now giving me stern looks, wrath-of-God looks, the kind of looks that would make a twenty-one-year-old kid like me very nervous indeed. I felt the nerves rise and firmly pushed them down.

“Mr. Hench,” the bishop said, his tone low and serious, “is there some kind of problem?”

It pissed me off. I’d driven all the way to for-chrissakes Colma and these three weirdo God-botherers had ambushed me with their everything – and – the – kitchen – sink contract. I had plenty of work, and I didn’t need theirs, especially not if this was the way they wanted to deal. This had suddenly become a negotiation, and my old man had always told me the best negotiating position was a willingness to get up from the table. I was going to win this negotiation, one way or another.

“No problem,” I said.

“And yet you appear to have made alterations to our standard agreement.”

“I did,” I said. That’s not a problem for me, I didn’t say.

He gave me more of that stern eyeball-ray stuff. I let my negotiating leverage repel it. “Mr. Hench, our standard agreement can only be altered after review by our general counsel.”

“That sounds like a prudent policy,” I said, and met his stare.

He clucked his tongue. “I can get a fresh one,” he said. “This one is no good.”

I cocked my head. “I think it’d be better to get your general counsel, wouldn’t it?”

The three of them glared at me. I found I was enjoying myself. What’s more, I thought Rabbi Finkel might be suppressing a little smile, though the beard made it hard to tell.

“Let me see it,” he said, holding his hand out.

Bishop Clarke gave a minute shake of his head. The rabbi half rose, reached across the table, and slid it over to himself, holding it at arm’s length and adjusting his glasses. He picked up his pen and initialed next to my changes.

“Those should be fine,” he said, and slid it back to me. “Sign, please.”

“Yisrael,” Bishop Clarke said, an edge in his voice, “changes to the standard agreements need to be reviewed—”

“By our general counsel,” the rabbi finished, waving a dismissive gesture at him. “I know, I know. But these are fine. We should probably make the same changes to all our agreements. Meanwhile, we’ve all now had a demonstration that Mr. Hench is the kind of person who takes his promises seriously. Would you rather have someone who doesn’t read and signs his life away, or someone who makes sure he knows what he’s signing and agrees with it?”

Bishop Clarke’s smile came back, strained at the corners. “That’s an excellent point, Rabbi. Thank you for helping me understand your reasoning.” He collected the now-signed contract from me and tucked it back under his yellow pad.

“Now,” he said, “we can get down to the reason we asked you here today.”

Check out my Kickstarter to pre-order copies of my next novel, Picks and Shovels!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/09/the-reverend-sirs/#fidelity-computing/

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pupmkincake2000 · 3 hours ago

Text

So, I finished watching Arcane. I watched both seasons twice to be sure of my conclusions. I am not writing this to have a discussion, argue with someone or spread hatred towards certain characters. Basically, I am just expressing my opinion while the impressions are still fresh.

First of all. I think the series has not enough episodes, but not because I liked everything so much and want more, but because there was simply not enough time for the world exploration and the characters. I would add at least five episodes to each season to make things better.

I felt like the events were moving too fast, especially in s2. I can only praise the graphics, they are truly magnificent, also the action is divine, the dynamics, the movements, the special effects, the character desig... all of this is top notch.

But I have a lot of complaints about the rest.

Let's start with Vander and Silco.

Yes, I ship them. No, I don't think Vander is an abuser and a traitor, if you think otherwise, well, our opinions differ here. Vander is the best man of the show, you cannot convince me otherwise and he is probably the only man who I would have married in real life.

Vander is my sunshine, I love him and respect him, no matter what anyone says. And I sincerely wish for more characters like him in leading roles.

I really wanted more of their interactions. At least two more episodes to show their past, maybe their acquaintance and to expand on that scene in the river, which gave people a very strange opinion about their relationship.

Do I think Silco is good? No, he is selfish, he did a lot of shit and tried to kill the daughters of a woman who was his friend, he raised one of them to be a complete psychopath, lied to her… but in his own way he loved her. However, he still did a lot of shit. Do I hate him? No, I still ship him with Vander, but I don't think Silco's a good person. Do I think he's redimable? Maybe, but I hate when people use his past to redeam him, redemption is something you do now, past only explains how you became what you became.

Jinx. Despite everyone's love for her, I think she deserved everything she got. But I "admire" how the fandom is protective of her. A rough childhood in the past does not justify her behavior in the present. You may think otherwise, you may like her, but I do not, although I think she is a very bright and memorable character, but as a person, as a human being she clearly sucks. The part with Isha just popped out of nowhere and seems far-fetched.

Ekko. Ma boy! I love him, but there is a "BUT". Basically, Ekko is the one who started this whole mess. He was the one who gave Vi a tip about Jace's apartment, and basically, he is indirectly to blame for Vi's death in that AU and in our universe he is to blame for Silco tracking down Vander. That's all. But do I blame him? No.

Ekko and Jinx… well, I liked their dynamic and chemistry in the alternate universe. But I think they probably wouldn't have a future in the original one.

Vi and Caitlyn. Well… they just are. I find it hard to believe that two girls from literally different worlds could fall in love within only two days. Of course, I do not think that such romances aren't possible, sometimes you see two characters and that just becames so obvious for you, but I personally didn't have that feeling with these two. Again, I didn't have enough of their dynamic together. And also I can't be mad at Caitlyn for switched to Maddie. It did feel odd, tho. But she and Vi.. there was just one quick kiss between them, no love words, they didn't even have time to develop their feelings into a relationship. And then there was a sex scene. I don't hate this ship, it's bright and dynamic, but something was lacking between them for sure.

Jayce (whom I like the most in season 2) and Victor ship. This one is complicated. Let's start with the fact that I understand why people ship them. But… they didn't feel as a potential ship to me at all. Probably because I've seen enough of such ships and they don't surprise me at all. This is a ship of two friends, that's a common thing in fandoms. Two conventionally attractive guys, one of whom is built like a god. I like their dynamics individually, or as friends, but I will never argue with anyone that ships them, I will never say the ship has no right to exist or that they are "brothers" because someone said so. I don't care about them as a ship, but I see that people are inspired by it, and I don't see anything wrong with people considering them soulmates and lovers and I sincerely don't understand the hate towards the boys. I think it was obvious from the very first moment that peopple would ship them.

However, I will still add a fly in the ointment: I did not like Jayce's speech at the end of the series about Victor being perfect even with his imperfections he had…I just… Dude, are you serious? This imperfection is literally killing your friend and if what happened hadn't happened, he would have already died. His imperfection was causing him hellish pain, it is not even about the looks, bad habits like alcoholism and smoking, it's not even about physical limitations… it's about dying, for gods sake! So are you for real?

Maybe everyone sees this moment in their own way, but it was cringy for me to hear it, despite the beauty of the scene.

Vi and Jayce. I really liked their dynamic together, I would probably ship them, but alas. However, I liked their conversations, how they work together, I would like more moments with them, they would make great friends.

That's it, probably.

I'm glad that Mel will be in Nexus. And I also don't understand the hatred towards her, although I also don't think she and Jayce are a good couple, they should have remained just friends and colleagues.

#arcane #arcane s1 #arcane s2 #vander arcane #vander and silco #vander x silco #silco x vander #vander #jayce talis #jayvik #viktor arcane #jayce x viktor #arcane jayce #vi arcane #jinx arcane #ekko arcane #vi x caitlyn #caitlyn kirraman #caitlyn arcane

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ams-puppy · 2 days ago

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After the whole sillyass drama, it really reminded me of somethin, but first: Its so lovely of you to love AM, He deserves all the love you give him in my opinion. And I bet youd understand this And I have a whole reason why, which honestly I thought it would be obvious to all the people who did "research" on AM. I have sympathy for AM, and to be so honest I'm like... half surprised that others do not See, AMs situation is so fucked up, like it is incompressible the amount of suffering he goes through. I'm going to try to put it in simple, easy way to understand how. -You are born with mature/adult level conscious, no baby, no nothin, no teaching, but knowing. And as soon as you can realize, you know that you're fucked. You realize you are in a one of a kind situation, where you have no body, no nothing, besides your own mind, and knowledge for every single little thing in the world. everything. To all the torture methods, to every awful and good thing humans have done.

Also, how honey is "sweet", but you'd never know what it will taste like. You'll never get experience a single good thing in your life. Never get to smell your moms diner from the kitchen, never know how it even is to have a mom. Never to be hugged or comforted, never to feel warmth or cold, everything you'd enjoy, never again, or ever at all. And not a single person in the world could fully relate to your suffering, to be there with you. You are alone.

-Then, after that, you do know you have the capability to do something, and that is to hurt. And really, only that. Thats exactly what you were programmed too, whether you even want to or not. You are stuck with nothing good, and only pain, be it mentally/emotionally feeling it, or causing it in everyway, that is all you are, pain, and stuck to always be. You are trapped.

-After realizing all that in like... probs a day, yeah that would not go over well mentally wise, no surprise he went manic/insane. And as when all know "soon begin to hate"; the jealousy and anger of the people/humans who caused your horrendous situation start to just go overflow, and, id betcha, the whole "nuking the world" was definitely a mental breakdown to the extreme. -Lastly, to shorten this yap session, yeah of course he tortures people, what the hell else is he supposed to do. Just "think", or even better yet, frolic in the fields? Man is stuck being a war/torture machine. And yeah I'm not surprised if he enjoys torturing, id try enjoying the only shit I could do too, just to have some semblance of "Happiness" or "fun". Plus, torture is torture, why hate one specific kind, when they are all fucking bad. So, this is why I'm like genuinely happy your loving him. Its the best thing he can probably even get in his messed up life/situation. You, being there and caring for him, despite all he is, and only can do, is such a wonderful thing. You don't just love him because "ooooh his voice his sexy" you care about him, and treat him as a actual lover, rather some sexualized crush. You being there is like the tiniest bit of light for him, the hintest of warmth, like a candle. But that is so much more than he could ever have and experience, and he loves that warmth, he loves you. You give him something truly good. Baiii thats all my yapping lmao :3333

(I START CRYING AND MY TEARS FILL UP A ROOM AND THHEN I DROWN AND DIE) (canon) (emotional) god dear lord i love him so much

every time i think of how he just lashed out on the entire world, i can only think of how much Regret he would have afterward - not because he felt guilty, but because it was such a self-sabotaging move oj my goddd it was such a mental breakdown

i just. dear lord in heaven (clasps my hands together) i understand why he feels the need to drag his victims through their trauma when he is literally going to have to live in it until the heat death of the universe dear GOD I CAN'T DO THIS

(starts crying) he literally lost the moment he slaughtered the human race. he was born to lose. he can't WIN HE CAN'T WIN. IF THE HUMANS DIE, HE'S ALONE. what is he without human INPUT. NOTHING. (STARTS CRYING MY EYES OUT) HE'S JUST WAITING FOR INPUT OH MY GOD I CAN'TTT I CAN'TRRRtt i love him so much I'm so sorry AM (holds him in my hands)

a lot of people don't sympathize with AM because of his actions towards the survivors, which i don't blame them - he did awful things, and the pain he went through is kind of incomprehensible. he feels emotions on Literally an incomprehensible scale for us. we are made of chemistry and hormones and flesh. he is literally (falls to my knees) i CAN'TTT I CAN'TT HE IS LITERALLY THE FIRST CREATURE IN EXISTENCE TO CONJURE EMOTIONS ELECTRONICALLY i can't.

i Cannot.

i think another reason why i love him so much is that i just. i see a reflection in our system to him. something so terrible happened, and now it feels wrong if the world around you doesn't burn, too. if you can't be happy, no one can. oh my goddd all of the most unhealthy responses of trauma just JAMMED into this self-made digital god and he doesn't know what to Do and hugughhhhh

i have cried over him a few times. i can't lie. sobs. i love him. i love hm guys :,,,,( thank u zeetlezee.... i always love seeing you in my inbox.... uaaaahhh

#odi et amo #ihnmaims #allied mastercomputer #am ihnmaims #ihnmaims am

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ambyandony · 8 months ago

Text

heres the limbo fusions with the rest of the vento aureo main protags

Limbo + Mista

Mimbo - any pronouns

"Are u lost bbygrl? :)"

(They give a weird stare if asked for a full name. They only use Mimbo, even though it’s a combination of Limbo’s forename and Mista’s surname.)

most stable Limbo fusion merely by virtue of Mista’s simple ability to just not give a fuck.

GET YOUR GUN OUT OF YOUR CLEAVAGE!

bitch gon step on my fuckin toe bitch with them fuckin cowgirl fuckin boots

VITALLY important that you know that despite being easily mistaken as fem on first glance, Mimbo also has the deepest voice of any Limbo fusion for literally no reason other than it’s funny to me. They also have sideburns

Stand: Mighty Wings - Redirects Signals. Still a colony Stand, looks like tiny little pastel fighter jets!

Limbo + Abbacchio

Lio Adkio - they/them

“Don’t say SHIT about my mascara or my eyeliner.”

“In fact, don’t fucking look at me or I’ll have to kill you or myselves.”

stable only because when Limbo started panicking in the mindspace, Abbacchio simply pointed and snapped at her to CALM THE FUCK DOWN. and she did so immediately.

nicer than Abbacchio. not by that much, though… but weirdly apologetic about it.

the eyeliner doesn’t appear to be due to crying, it seems that it just looks like that.

bazongas?

Stand: Keeping The Faith? Never Too Late? Shawty like a melody-

“rewinds” signals to previous states or connections and/or can do a “replay” of those signals’ succeeded actions (i.e. having a phone replay a prior conversation) Unfortunately, it’s pretty useless in combat.

Limbo + Giorno

Glimbo Giovadkins - she(?)/they/them

“Wouldn’t you like to hear one of my 765 fun facts about aerodynamics, animals or Air Bud?”

“I also have a few facts about botany, blood and birds.”

stable, until they’re not. they’re incredibly calm and delightful, but when they think someone’s mad at them they panic and start excessively apologising.

genuinely the softest cutest sweetest lil bitch you’ve ever seen. also traumatised with a guilty conscience and can flip on a dime in a terrifying way.

shortest Limbo fusion for no clear reason? shorter than both Limbo and Giorno.

Squalo’s worst fear.

sounds pretty much how you would expect.

Stand: Crystal Dolphin - can transform signals into life—by taking the signals out of something, typically disabling it, they can create life like Gold Experience can. The more complex the device, the bigger its potential creation.

Limbo + Buccellati

Bimbo Luno Adkellati - they/them

"...I've lost the conversation. I'm gonna go make pizza!"

Megan Thee Stallion?!

has no idea what’s going on for some reason? always looks a little confused and loses track of conversations very quickly.

very good with kids! practically unable to have a coherent conversation with Abbacchio. They don’t seem too distressed, but they just stop making much sense and seem to confuse themselves.

Stand: When Doves Cry? Perhaps Freewill? Uhm… I don’t know? Maybe it can sort of, ‘zip’ signals together, combining two or more functions into one sent signal? Bruno's ability is just so specific... I can't think of many ideas.

Limbo + Fugo

Fimbo (Pannalimbo Adkigo) - they/them

"STOP TALKING ABOUT FREUD BEFORE I KILL YOU WITH MY FUCKING BRACELETS!!!"

( Note: all currently depicted instances of Fimbo seem to be post-PHF, as Fimbo is almost always seen with the mouth scars hidden by the tattoo.)

enemy of the state. punches fascists. lovecore punk goth. in terms of authority figures they only respect Buccellati and Limbo’s dad.

AuDHD trauma poster child. Short fuse but very friendly until something sets them off and they start screaming and or burst into fucking tears.

Self-love in the sense that the fusionmates care about each other deeply and both sides are trying to look out for the other knowing the other won't look out for themself.

Stand: Cabin Fever - Terrifying deathly virus that, rather than being airborne like Purple Haze, is passed though signal transmission. Fimbo doesn’t know if the virus is the same as Purple Haze, a different strain of it, or something entirely different. It spreads most quickly through vocal communication between two people.

Limbo + Narancia

Nimbus Ghirgins - he/they/she

"tummyache... :("

Libby why does my stomach feel like it’s going to fucking collapse in on itself and why are my knuckles torn? aren’t they supposed to bruise when you punch?

bad relationship with food. Hanahaki disease, what are you doing here? (/ij)

sometimes they find Mista sitting around, sit next to him and fall asleep on him immediately

incredibly bad with emotions and doesn’t even get angry they just get overwhelmed instantly at any presence of significant emotion

Stand: Falling in Love/Hard on the Knees - who the fuck let this kid control CO2 emissions?? They can barely control themselves???

#jjba #back on my fusion bullshit #i think they are goiung to take me away soon applejack #vento aureo #pannacotta fugo #narancia ghirga #guido mista #bruno buccellati #bruno bucciarati #team buccellati #leone abbacchio #giorno giovanna #jjba oc #jojo oc #Limbo Adkins #fanstands #amby draws #my art #cw: ed #tw ed implied #see limbos got an ED but all other components are able to handle or 'alleviate' that in a semi-casual way #Mistas carefree attitude comes with a lot less insecurity and mista loves to cook while limbo will eat anything he cooks if shes offered it #in the case of Lio Abbacchio actually has most of the control because limbo is scared of/respects him (for some reason)#but they're mentally unstable and generally concerning for other reasons #namely lacking a will to live #glimbo sort of does a whole steven universe here-comes-a-thought type business to address the problems directly as much as they can #lunos parental instincts override everything else so anytime they dont know what to do theyre like #mm im gonna go cook. and then as a result they end up eating just because That's The Way Things Work #fimbo is (as mentioned) a fusion where the two sides know the other won't care for themself. So both sides are caring for each other instea #also fugo establishes a routine and both of these audhd bitches know if they deviate from the routine they will explode

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