#nobody (including myself) do anything with this information <3< /div>
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(drill sergeant voice) You there! Person in the notes of that one post where, in the tags, you said you wanted to care about your OCs more! Drop and give me 5 or more things you like about your OCs!!!
(OR NOT. No pressure if you don't want to!)
-someone whose OCs are their hyperfixation and is trying to give you an opportunity to think about your OCs again + just really likes hearing about other people's OCs as well :]
You are the nicest drill sergeant ive ever met wowie...
I might not have 5 concrete things, but everyone knows i can ramble a Ton if you ask the right question (which. I, in a spur of the moment, have decided, you have. sorry in advance <3).
I was originally planning to "write" a story and build a world for these 2 characters I drew up one day. Their "placeholder" names (by that i mean theyre kinda stuck with these names forever lol) were Vivian and Raphael. They originally had design elements with locks and zippers, Vivian with a locked choker, and Raphael with a zipper cheek piercing. I tried to make those design elements sorta magical, like Raphael could literally zip his lips shut.
Then i completely scrapped those design elements in favor of giving them tangible weapons or powers. Vivian with these magic hoop earrings that could expand, and she could do hulahoop tricks/combat with. Raphael basically just had lightning powers.
THEN then, I think I kinda staved off giving Raphael much to stand out with..? My most recent focus (from maybe a year or so ago lol) was on Vivian and her backstory, of growing up in this sorta cultish palace where girls are raised to conform to traditional western ideals of femininity and beauty. The head of the palace acts like this sort of controlling mother figure for the girls, telling them how they should look and act, and shunning them should they disobey or retaliate.
I had Vivian find herself trapped in this place, not raised in it, but basically getting adopted into it. She rebels against a couple of things as a kid, but is mostly ok with following "the rules" until things start getting harder for her. Eventually, the "graduation" (or rather, the only way to escape) from this palace is through marriage to a man, and this is Vivian's breaking point. She runs away somehow, or she gets exiled idk, and that's where her story is supposed to begin.
OH and uh. There was gonna be flower theming with the palace. I think I called it the Perennial Palace because the lady running it was basically attempting to achieve eternal youth or something. Also alliteration lol.
And on your wedding day, you get a big flowery, petaly dress to wear. Cause y'know full blossom or bloom or whatever.
#congrats on getting me to talk about this anon lol#nobody (including myself) do anything with this information <3#honestly im in such a weird mood and i think thats a key factor in talking about this too#because i dont care much at all about my ocs loke i said i dont give a shit lol#but a tiny part of me does give a shit. otherwise id delete all my ideas i wrote down lol#n asks
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I realized something this morning.
This is probably gonna be a long post. (Edit, yep)
I'm a pretty fairly public figure on the internet, and I very regularly interact with a huge amount of people. From YouTube Comments to Discord to Tumblr Asks/Comments to Newgrounds Reviews to MMO Chat to Mic-Chat on Games to Twitch Chat to Stream Chat, blah blah blah.
I've, for years now, over a decade (hell over two decades) talked to probably thousands of people, and have been able to get a gauge on a pretty safe to say "average" of collective human intelligence on the internet.
I've come to realize that not everybody has that kind of experience talking to people online as I do. I've talked to literally thousands, probably near ten thousand, people online in my life.
This is a staggeringly high number and puts me in an outlier position among the rest of you, who likely have only interacted with a double digit number of people online in your life.
Now that you have that information in mind, here's what I realized this morning.
I realized that the reason I don't listen to people, ESPECIALLY when it comes to politics, is because I have learned through talking to all these people that fucking nobody knows what they're fucking goddamn talking about.
I study a lot of things in my spare time, and history is a huge one that I study. I very regularly read and listen to multiple sources talking about historic events, and I make sure to look at as many sources as possible, sometimes including reading encyclopedias in my own home that we've owned for like 40 years.
I cross-reference all of these things and paint a picture of the most likely truths through various means.
Why's that important? Because sometimes a 14 year old on Twitter, literally nearly less than a third my age, will occasionally come along telling me that I'm wrong. Not about history necessarily, but about some opinion that I have based on my own experience and my own knowledge that I've researched myself.
I usually ask them where they got their information, and I'm met with boldfaced idiocy. Completely braindead shit like "180,000 people said it on Twitter," or they link me a Tumblr post with 100k notes, or they say "It's common knowledge," (which is the biggest red flag of them all because not only does it prove they have no evidence to back up what they're saying, but as this post will go on to explain, "common knowledge" is quite literally the worst source of information on anything. People commonly think the earth is flat and that Scientology is real. People commonly think that walking under a ladder or breaking a mirror gives you bad luck. People commonly think that naturally blue food exists.)
In my life I have met thousands of people, and THOUSANDS of them are fucking idiots who very very smugly state completely incorrect knowledge. Earlier today someone tried to tell me that the creators of Beat Saber never sold the company to Facebook, and I showed them proof and they went silent for 3 hours and then went "Yeah so what, Facebook is still a good company" and I wanted to beat my head against the desk.
The internet is full of people who are fascinatingly ignorant. I'm not calling myself "better" or "smarter" than anyone here, I'm just saying that I have learned better than most people that people on the internet are not, and never fucking will be, a good source of information. I don't care if they're your best fucking friend, the coin-toss of them knowing what they're talking about or actually having the facts is so heavily weighted against them, it's seriously like a 98% chance they have no fucking clue what they're talking about.
I urge everyone to take a moment and realize that the internet is, in fact, a good place to find information and do research, but PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET, especially MEDIA AND SOCIAL MEDIA, are NOT SMART PEOPLE AND ARE NOT GOOD SOURCES FOR YOUR INFORMATION.
These are angry, smug, annoying little idiots who are likely 14 years old with a 1st grade reading comprehension who aspires to be a TikTok content creator as a career, and under no fucking circumstance should you ever, ever, EVER listen to any social, financial, religious, gendered, medical or political advice they give.
The world has gotten vastly out of control with how much people think "A lot of people agree with me" is a good enough reason to solidify your opinions. "A lot of people agree" is the biggest red flag ever, because people on the fucking internet are complete fucking idiots, I'm sorry, but I'm someone with far more experience talking to people on the internet than literally any of you reading this. I talk to people on the internet as a career and have been doing this for longer than most of you reading this have been alive.
So what's the point of this? What's the take-away?
The take-away is that I'm saddened by how many people will attack each other vehemently, cut off friends and family members, label people as toxic or problematic, jump to conclusions, etc. based on complete and utter misinformation spouted to them by people who have never once in their entire life actually looked up what the fuck they're talking about. They treat random strangers on Twitter as "experts" because that person is well articulated or put together a YouTube video with really good editing that's softly spoken by a British accent guy and has scary music whenever some "evil" person is on the screen.
The take-away is that people, like yourself (don't you dare try to deny it) will just believe whatever they read on social media, or whatever their Discord friend-group is talking about, because they are living in a complete falsehood that people on the internet know better than they do.
You are not incapable of doing your own research. You are not incapable of finding the truth. You are not stupid. Just do your own research, look into things yourself, cross-reference, use the scientific method, go to a library, read books, for fuck sake please adopt the basic social skill of "If someone says it on the internet it is most likely not true and I should look into it myself."
Because the current state of people is monstrous.
Y'all get so fucking mad about things that are just plain not true, and you revolve your entire life around things you were told by complete idiots and/or children on Twitter and other social media websites.
Stop.
Look at yourself, look at how angry you get about things, and consider that there may be a possibility that anger stems from a complete lack of any foundation or truth in your own beliefs.
Consider the almost 100% guaranteed possibility that you have been blatantly lied to by people who have no fucking idea what they're talking about, and that you are violently upholding standards that are incorrect because you have placed trust in the word of untrustworthy people.
Look up confirmation bias, read about it.
Look up manipulation tactics, read about it.
Look up "Plato's Republic" and read about it.
Absolutely, under no circumstances, should you ever, EVER, form your social or religious or political or financial or gendered or sexual etc. opinions based on SHIT YOU READ ON SOCIAL MEDIA.
And while we're here, don't listen to the news either. They're just a bunch of parrots saying what needs to be said to get you all fighting with each other so that the government can fuck things up while you're distracted. Do your own research, check multiple sources, don't consider social media or regular media to be a 'source,' get every bit of information from every angle, and for fuck sake, stop attacking people for disagreeing with you when you, yourself, only believe what you believe because your friend group believes it and you know that if you disagree with your friend group they'll all attack you so you'd rather be on their side, which only further proves my point that y'all need to fucking chill.
"Democracy will never work. If 3 medical experts tell you that you must eat a ginger root to cure your ailments, but 100,000 idiots with no medical experience tell you otherwise, you're more likely to believe the 100,000 idiots. They are louder, there are more of them, and you will gamble on the hope that among those 100,000 idiots, there must be more than 3 medical experts. The voice of the ignorant will always drown out the voice of the educated."
-Plato's Republic, 375BCE (Paraphrased)
"I can't believe Jay just called us all idiots and expects us to listen to him"
-Someone in the comments of this (It's gonna happen)
PS: If you looked up "Naturally Blue Food," and found out it does in fact not exist, good for you for doing your own research!
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Whinnies.
general info under cut !! also yes. i'm lyman-garfiel. tumblr drank all my pepsi and called me a bitch and i got terminated.
🪲Hi hello welcome =)!! i am lymantria, [lyman, tria, ly, mantria, mister mantria or lyme 4 short] i have a secret real name. you have to reach clown level 50 to unlock it 🪲My identity is.. all over the place but my pronouns are he/it and i use masc terms until i don't. if i'm close with you feel free to use a femme term for me evrey now and then like you're giving your beloved leopard gecko a nice fat juicy hornworm you bought as a treat.
🪲 I'm a genderfluid and abrosexual little freak of nature, neurodivergant in the direction of "healthcare system is too ableist and classist to actually give me a screening for anything" but likley autism/adhd as well as npd with a bpd comobidity 🪲 please be 16+ if you're gonna follow me, i don't post nsfw on my blog but i do jokingly hornypost quite often, i will be changing my age gate to 18+ when i turn 21 so,,,also keep that in mind
🪲 My interests include, beastars, valve games.. portal is my special interest . don't get me started on my cube game, the furry fandom as a whole, rockafire explosion animatronics, parasitic wasps, parasites in general, christain borle, mlp, rtvs, falsettos, christain borle.. and a certain one of my besties has gotten me back into danganronpa. god dammit.. and i am,,, sighs.. a phannie 🪲 i do vent on this blog! i have a LOT of personal issues going on in my daily life, serious topics will have a tw and be placed under a cut, nobody's obligated to comfort me, i just like using this website to scream into the void about my problems, i'm coping the best i can behind the scenes and am recieving help, i just,,,, have a brain and a home life that sucks asses and need to yeel about it. 💎🦎💎
💎DNI💎
🦎 general dni material applies, i don't tolerate racism/homophobia/transphobia/zionism/ableism and all the isms that make people feel like shit for their identities .
🦎 with that being said, i support 'leboys' and 'mspec lesbians' and whatever new identity anti-inclus people are trying to police. as long as you aren't attracted to something that is rightfully illegal to diddle. i don't give a shit and neither should you. queer discourse is stupid and i HATE you. 🦎 if images of bugs/parasites disturb you, not because i hate you.. but because i really like insects and will reblog pictures of them quite often and don't tag them, just for your own saftey i'm a bug boy <3 🦎 Another general one but like.. if you support romantisizing dynamics like incest and grooming/pedophilia in fiction please dni, i understand protraying these things respectfully, but if you're going to make traumatic shit seem desireable i don't feel comfortable being around you 🦎 "narc abuse" mfers. i'm a narcissist and i can assure you the only bitch i'm abusing is myself. 🦎 If you hate on melon's twink death. more of his titties for me. FUCK you for not getting the body horror/dysphoria arc you can write with this element of his charecter.. and if you think he's sexier as that maul-nourished twig I, as a maul-nourished twig am squinting at you
🦎 Arturo giles, you can LIKE. arturo giles and be my mutual, you can even REBLOG. art of him, but arturo giles HIMSELF. dni and get the fuck away from me. HISSSSSSSSSSSS
🍈💜SELFSHIP INFORMATION!!💜🍈
🍈MELON <33🍈
🍈i... love this guy, i'm sure you've noticed by now i post about himm... a lot, his psychology interests me and i need to poke around that lil' fatass forehead of his
🍈 that being said. i may be his wife and boyfriend but i don't concider myself an apologist for his actions, being traumatized as a child does not justify killing people to fuel your own hedonism. he FRUSTRATES me in that regard, so again.. as his wife, i have a right to point and laugh at him
🍈 STRICTLY. nonsharing with this shitlit. i'm always open to shootin tha shit and having a fun little convo about about this.. VERY interesting motherfucker. but the relationship i have with him mutated into a coping mechanism and i don't wanna interact with other selfshippers/people who make romantic comments towards him, i am just,,,, a little traumatized from somebody being a freak about him somewhat recently.. i have other f/o's notably scarab from fionna and cake but my sharing status on em is open and they aren't as consuming as melon is.
🍈🦎Love's failures🦎🍈
Love's failures is my little brain-baby beastars au fanfic, surrounding the entirley self indulgent question of "what if melon,,,, had boyfrin..and it was me". Love's failures follows both melon and Lymantria as they experince an agonizing codepandancy towards eachother as a newly-escaped convict melon is forced to work alongside with his once abandoned ex friend as they attempt to rebuild the once booming back alley market, both for their own selfish reasons Love's failures touches on topics of drug abuse, the impacts of emotional and physical incest, codepandancy, abuse, self harm, suicidal ideation, gore/murder [its melon guys..], sexual abuse, child abuse, ptsd. and.. a bunch of other shit that will be tagged in the actual chapters, but that is my..general trigger warning for the shit that will go on in there, i WILL state theres an eventual happy ending, the toxicity won't be for nothing i prommy
all content regarding the au is tagged as eather #melyme or #love's failures au, and i'll likley have chapter entries in a separate tag when the chapters get written !
will lyman be able to get over the parasitic affection he feels for fuckshit muskmelon?, will melon learn how to be a normal fucking person as his past sins finally get rubbed in his face in a way that finally hurt him?, can these idiots actually figure out how to better themselves when constantly egging on eachothers self destriction?
find out..
💎Enjoy my blog. please💎
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let’s talk about fanfiction surrounding racism!
strange that this even has to be said, but here we are.
1. first and foremost - this is not a “who can write what” argument. obviously, people can write about experiences that they themselves will never face. this is the basis of fiction. however, the real issue lies in how this is being done. whenever approaching a controversial or nuanced subject, doing your own research is pretty important. personally, i would want to make sure i understand the topic fully before putting pen to paper, and i would want to treat the subject with care. yes, i may not go through something personally, but when you are putting something up for consumption, there is always a chance that someone who does go through it personally will read it. which brings me to my next point:
2. yes! this is fiction! but fiction can always have real life consequences and will always evoke real life feelings. even if it’s not for monetary gain, the whole point of writing and posting writing is to largely evoke real life feelings from other people. especially on difficult and sensitive subjects, portraying things like this accurately is important.
3. some things are not as surface level as they seem. “white savior” does not always mean literally saving poc. when handling racism in fics, i would genuinely suggest looking at it and wondering if implicit bias is shining through, or what it’s really focusing on. if it’s centered on a white character figuring out that yes, racism exists and yes, they do have privilege AFTER a poc they were close to has been a victim of a racially targeted attack (whether physical or not), i would take a second look at it. a character saying they understand they have privilege is one thing, but i would argue that they have not reached a genuine understanding unless they begin caring outside of marginalized people that are directly close to them.
4. “people can write what they want” yes! however, when it’s framed specifically as a piece of work advocating against racism or the author has made it very clear that this is not meant to be a racist work, it’s important to make sure that it’s not secretly coming across that it is. writing anything on racism in general is making a statement. writing something against racism is making a statement. when doing so, it’s more important than ever to be informed and to take the struggle off the white character who’s just somehow discovering racism exists.
5. the use of racial slurs in fiction writing has been long debated for longer than i’ve been alive, and i’m not here to get into this argument specifically, as this is explicitly about fanfiction. is it really necessary in fanfiction? is it absolutely necessary? typically, the answer is no. it is one thing to include racial slurs for the sake of hurt/comfort (WILD btw), it is another to talk in the notes about how the author hated writing them. nobody is forcing you at gunpoint to use racial slurs.
6. this may be a little more controversial, but being poc also does not absolve you of doing your research. i myself am poc and wrote multiple papers on nuanced topics surrounding racism (yellowface, cultural appropriation, microaggressions, etc.). i still had to and wanted to do my research. research in general strengthens your argument and enhances writing quality! more importantly, it makes you know what you’re talking about.
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thank you for reading ! this is a subject i do feel the need to touch on because i’ve been seeing quite a bit of it lately, and this is purely my opinion as a writer and an english student. you are welcome to hold your own.
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Hey a /genq here and asking this in a completely respectful and neutral way bc i want to inform myself enough to form an opinion on this, what's your take on the debate on using the term "narcissistic abuse" or "narcissistic parents" and the like? some people claim it's ableist against ppl with NPD but some disagree for a variety of reasons. ive seen on your page you've used the terms listed above before. what's your take on the debate, and what's some rebuttals for people claiming its ableist? thanks in advance and sorry if already asked ✌️
I've discussed this a bit on my page before so I'll try to keep this brief as I do like to rabbit on about this. (Edit: yeah I fucked up this wasn't brief at all so enjoy the monologue and thanks for reaching out OP)
The short answer is that narcissistic doesn't mean NPD. Lots of people think it does and that can contribute to stigma and promote ableism, especially when they think terms like "narcissistic abuse" or "narcissistic family dynamic" are referring to people with NPD perpetrating the abuse or the toxic family dynamic. They then spread that misinformation around the Internet. It's not right and nobody should be doing that. Narcissism isn't NPD, having NPD doesn't make you a narcissist. Nobody should be calling people with NPD narcissists. People with NPD are decent people with regular mental disorders like everyone else and they deserve kindness and respect and the common courtesy and that includes basic shit like knowing what their disorder is before discussing it on a public platform. NPD is a regular mental disorder, not a type of abuse. Narcissistic abuse is a type of abuse, not a mental disorder.
I have a whole opinion about how NPD is actually a really badly named disorder because in all of its diagnostic criteria only like 3 of the possible symptoms directly correlate with narcissism and you can be diagnosed without presenting any of them. So actually most people with NPD aren't even narcissistic. It's like a whole thing I've gone into before but my point is, NPD isn't even a clinical diagnosis of chronic narcissism. There are raging narcissists who don't qualify for an NPD diagnosis.
There's an argument that I shouldn't use the term narcissistic to accurately describe my own experience of abuse, because when people with NPD Google the term "Narcissist Help" or anything like it, the results are filled with people like me, survivors of narcissistic abuse, not resources relevant to people with NPD. I've used my VPN to Google from the UK, the USA, Australia and Canada and that problem disappears when I use terminology actually relevant to people with NPD. Search terms like "NPD specialist" "NPD support group" "NPD Help" all spawn in some pretty supportive, reputable and relevant data. People with NPD deserve help and support and a community to provide it to them. So do I.
Narcissistic abuse is a real term. It's used professionals in all the places you tend to find vulnerable people. Doctors and nurses, psychologists, psychiatrists, social workers, outreach support officers, teachers, safeguarding bodies and survivor advocates all are trained in how to spot narcissistic abuse and support the people experiencing it. It's not a word made up recently to intentionally promote ableism specifically against people with NPD. The term has existed longer than NPD has been a recognised mental health disorder.
I am a survivor of narcissistic abuse. That means that the abuse I experienced fit the specific patterns and purposes recognised by professionals when discussing narcissistic abuse. The abuse happened when I was a child so it was also child abuse. It took all kinds of forms so it was also physical and emotional abuse. Being able to describe it all kinds of other ways doesn't change the fact that the name for what I experienced is narcissistic abuse.
Some people don't like it. They say that when I use terms like narcissistic abuse that my audience won't understand what I mean and will fail to educate themselves. I expect better from my audience and I don't think I'm responsible for other people's ignorance. Especially when I ensure I'm using my terminology correctly.
In my opinion, I educated myself. I try to educate people when I see misinformation regarding this topic tun across my notifications. I leave the NPD community alone so they don't have to see my potentially triggering content. I do everything I need to do to be a decent fucking person. But I'm not going to mislabel my abuse because somebody disagrees with the terminology.
#narcissistic abuse#narcissistic family structure#narcissistic parents#narcissistic abuse support#abuse survivor support#narcissistic abuse survivor#child abuse survivor#abuse survivor#narcissisticabuserecovery
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hi sleepyowl. I wanna share my writing for fun but I'm scared its really bad and no one is gonna read it. do u have advice on how to just go for it anyway? like ots not like for money or anything just for fun. and it's still rough like not even a second draft but tbh I don't think I'll polish it, i feel like it's "done" the way it is
Go for it anyway.
That's what I had to do, and it's the hardest and easiest thing. Sharing your art in an early stage or in a very imperfect form feels super scary before you've ever done it, but the only way to get past that is to have done it. So do it.
But there are some things you can do to alleviate the stress of posting it:
1. Clarify the stage you're in. I always mention the draft an excerpt is from, or say that I'm just brainstorming facts about the world, or add that the information is subject to change as the wip progresses. You can give yourself from breathing room just by letting everyone know where you are in a project.
2. Play tag games. Most people leave open tags on their games, myself included, and you can pick one up and share things within the safety of the rules of that particular tag game. It gives you a framework to lean on.
3. If this is all the editing you're going to do on something, that's fine! You can say that too. "This is a little something I wrote for fun" is a very valid reason that writeblr is familiar with and accepts.
"Good writing" is a very soft and ambiguous term, just like "bad writing" is. Rather than thinking of your writing in terms of good or bad, think of it along a spectrum of what you hoped to accomplish with it.
Did you have fun writing it? Does it evoke or portray the emotions you want it to? Does it give you joy it read it back through?
You're a reader, too, and there are a million tiny preferences held by various readers, but a lot more general sorts, and the chances of finding a reader ready to consume what you've written is high.
In my experience, writeblr doesn't go out of its way to tell anybody their writing is terrible. The worst that could happen is that nobody reads it. Which has happened to me, too. And that bums you out, but you've still done what you set out to do.
You want to share your writing. Go for it. If nobody reads it, nobody reads it. Hut you shared it, and that is an excellent accomplishment.
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i honestly really really hate being so negative. dragon age is my very favorite video game series; KotOR was my first bioware game, and i had a lot of fun in mass effect, but i fell in love with dragon age, warts and all. my favorite of the three is DA2 for god's sake, clearly i'm a very forgiving soul when it comes to these fucking games; i've always been so taken by the character writing and the lore that i don't mind all the jank. the gameplay never got in the way of my exploring and romancing and codex-hunting. and some part of me was truly desperately hoping i could find it in my heart to get excited about Veilguard after the first trailer like ruined my entire sunday but i watched this gameplay video twice and i just hate it. the second time i watched i kept notes and i didn't realize how long it ended up, like, it's just this infinite depressing list of things that i didn't like. so i'll try to organize my word vomit. let's start positive.
STUFF I LIKED:
Minrathous looks cool, though i'm pissed we seem to spend so little time there. but it looks totally different from everywhere else we've been in the series and that's cool! the neon-y magic lighting, the big ominous circular floating tower, the narrow streets - some of the layout reminds me of kirkwall which is apropos since kirkwall was originally a tevinter city. so that's nice
Neve is hot! her design is cool and very tevinter and I like that. but the dialogue is so generic high fantasy garbage that I feel like I only got a sliver of her personality (confident + sense of humor which is honestly not much to go on for personality but i'm searching for crumbs here). i'll definitely be interested in getting to know her better, once i inevitably get brain damage and trick myself into playing this shit when it's on sale for like $3 in a year and a half
We only got a little bit of it but I like the reactivity/mention of backstory, anything that acknowledges player choice! Like neve's response to rook's stoic/direct dialogue line, and all the mentions of rook's faction in dialogue, that's all very nice
I don't mind the map markers/waypoints broadly but they're not necessary for this railroaded gameplay segment we see in the trailer. it'll be useful for other quests i guess
I also don't care that we're back to the DA2/DAI-style dialogue wheel with tone tags. i'm glad it's the same icons from DAI so i don't have to learn new hieroglyphics. i know a lot of people bitch about it but it's the neatest way to express the options imo
LORE????
i know a lot of these plot points are set up in supplemental novels and whatever and i personally feel like bioware needs to be banned from putting plot-critical information in novels and comics that nobody in the world wants to read. i've been playing and re-playing dragon age games regularly since 2018. i have never ONCE wanted to read any of this material. but apparently neve and one or two of the other companions are featured in Tevinter Nights and The Missing and whatever and i'm just fed up. no. i play the games. include the information there
so the shadow dragons faction is linked to tevinter/based in tevinter, but broadly, not just in minrathous, based on rook's dialogue about how he's unfamiliar with the city when the others expect him to know more. probably they're also linked to dorian? maybe shadow dragons is dorian's faction of non-horrible magisters?
bioware said in the developer Q&A that it's been 8 years since trespasser. that is absurd. wtf took solas so long to do whatever he's doing, what was he waiting for. the end of trespasser made it seem like disaster was imminent, but apparently solas needed 8 more years to find his little plot knife and set up all those incredibly unstable pillars
Where is the Inquisitor/inquisition??? Why is varric in charge of this???? Esp talking to solas, the end of trespasser makes it very personal between the inquisitor & solas and now they're just AWOL. the fact that inquisition isn't even a faction you can pick according to the developer Q&A is such a mistake, them saying inquisition isn't a major faction in the game is shocking to me. why does nothing matter
The venatori?? The venatori????? they're back but not the inquisitor?????? i thought i killed you losers
so who's that at the end, two of the other evanuris. Solas accidentally freed them from their prison bc rook fucked up the ritual. that's a fine hook but i hate the entire retcon of the evanuris lore but that's a longer rant
ART STYLE/UI
oh boy
the rain effect/puddle effect looks like it's from another game + why is it raining everywhere??? the huge ghibli rain droplets on everyone's clothes look weird, they're ginormous and so prominent. why is everyone is wearing hydrophobic clothes lmao
the interact button is ew. the approval/disapproval UI looks weird and it's in a weird place on the screen. the demon designs are bad. the hair textures are suspect. again, what's up with the hydrophobic clothes. but i lost it with neve's snowflake spell effects hahaha oh my god it looks so cartoony and weird, it's so unserious. those snowflakes are SO BIG!!! and SO PROMINENT!! everything has its moments of looking weirdly cartoony; the walls in minrathous stuck out to me as just looking odd in a way i can't quite put my finger on, the walking through the eluvian effect looked SO bad that my immediate thought was "oh wow that can't be the final version"
the lip-sync is...weird sometimes. I can't quite put my finger on why that's bugging me either but it's disturbing my eye
they got rid of so much of varric's chest hair, it's a felony. i also don't like harding's re-design, i feel like they tried too hard to make her pretty and i barely recognized her at first glance
it looks better than the reveal trailer but i don't love it
it's so funny how rook changes armor mid-cutscene. they clearly cut out a menu of the player setting equipment but the first time I watched the thing, I blinked and rook had fully changed clothes and it made me bust out laughing
finally: lol you can see texture pop-ins even in the gameplay reveal video (rook's armor around 8:00) they still can't optimize a game for shit
DIALOGUE
how did they fuck up the dialogue sweet god
right off the bat: the exposition is really clunky, enough so it made me wonder whose benefit it's for. do they really think people will pick up this game without playing at least DAI first? varric is explaining shit that no one in their right mind in-universe wouldn't already know, like "solas bad! breaking the veil bad!" i know that. bioware hates making games for people who already like their games
the dialogue overall is just...boring mostly. super predictable and utilitarian. i get like zero personality out of anybody, like i noted with neve in her intro. i get the SENSE of a personality but it's like. drinking la croix. just a hint. harding is particularly boring (and, side note & apparent hot take: everyone is acting like harding was a big fan favorite and i'm like. she's fine. it was nice to chat with her in DAI in every new region, just to see a familiar face, but narratively she brings very little to the table for me, she's not that interesting. and I don't get how everyone's acting like she was an obvious choice for a returning NPC who gets the promotion to companion. I'd rather have like. Josephine or somebody who had an actual character arc in DAI. Krem from the chargers (i know he can die so it can't be him but i'm dreaming here, sue me). Briala from WEWH. fuck, I'd be more interested in maryden the minstrel honestly, then we have half an excuse to bring cole back too, I feel like he probably has some reaction to all this veil-destroying shit. cole is better friends with solas than varric ever was, why isn't he here talking to solas. isn't varric still the viscount of kirkwall. why is he here at all). the delivery of the dialogue is really bland too, it's like all the actors are reading their lines for the first time and whatever idiot at bioware's in the booth with them was like "ya that's a wrap" bc they wanted to go to lunch sooner
DISHONORABLE MENTION: the entire dialogue exchange in arlathan forest btwn neve and harding is egregiously bad. "I've never seen anything like it!" "The tremors are getting worse!" "We've got demons!" it sucks
COMBAT
i'm just so pissed off
it uh. i hate it. it's my least favorite thing by far and it dashed my hopes the hardest. i can tolerate ugly UI and questionable art and a dumbass story, it's dragon age, that's what i'm here for. but it simply doesn't look like a game i'd enjoy playing. it reminded me of God of War 2018, like the leakers said way back when, and also like the Batman Arkham games with that little alert effect around rook's head and the dodging/parrying and the combos. but it's not what i come to dragon age for and i'm really bummed out. the additional details from the developer Q&A didn't make me feel any better (3 abilities??? i thought DAI was stingy with just 8, to say nothing of DAO and DA2 which, by endgame, grant you so many abilities that you can't even use them all in one fight. i like playing mages, i only get 3 spells? fuck that). it looks like a fixed camera focused on rook in combat, so you're getting attacked from offscreen and there's nothing you can do about it. the little lines showing you how projectiles will move is lame. the pop-ups about picking up gold are silly. i can't control companions??? what the fuck game even is this
I hate the action wheel. I hate that it takes up the whole screen, and it seems you can only pause when you're doing the action wheel. gross
so I see the little line with the dots on the bottom during combat that indicates when you can use special attacks. question: does each companion get their own bar for their own abilities, or does the whole squad draw on that one pool of points/resources/whatever. bc I have a bad feeling it's the latter
lol @ fighting those venatori goons on the edge of a cliff and you can only knock them off once their health bars are empty, you can't shove them off to kill them quicker. you wish you were bg3
it's like they made it to be played on consoles/controllers not PC
10 xp for killing like 8 demons?????
VARRIC & SOLAS??? STORYLINE?????
seriously, can anyone explain to me why talking solas down is varric's job. for real. it's been 8 yrs since trespasser and we're only just now getting to the evil plan???? the fuck is solas waiting for
harding & varric are suddenly besties with solas??? lmao. are harding and solas ever in the same room together in DAI, seriously. i know varric and solas have friendly banter exchanges but all of that content is determinant, the only actual quest that links them is cole's quest and they spend that whole quest respectfully disagreeing
anyway. varric goes to talk to solas (it should be the inquisitor doing that but ok) and solas destroys bianca (death penalty for that alone tbh) and then they just like...keep standing there talking??? why isn't solas trying to hurt him or anything. also, why is he so dumb that rook can sneak around and knock over a pillar to ruin his ritual. how does this ruin the ritual. he's so stupid. why can't varric just tackle him, we're all just STANDING THERE waiting for the world to end
"The veil is a wound inflicted on this world!!" ...yeah inflicted by...you...right solas...come the fuck on. shut up
this intro in minrathous is basically the beginning of me3 including walking across thin planks and doing lame auto-platforming with a recurring character from a previous game while the world is getting exploded around you. come on
THIS IS JUST FUNNY
Varric about Solas, a career liar who he knew for maybe a year and is now actively trying to destroy the world: he's my friend!!! Varric about Anders, who he hung out with every day for 6+ years and merely blew up a church to start a war, which was not a world-destroying event: hes dead to me!!!!!!!
man oh man i'm just. aaaaaaaugh
i think a real big problem in dragon age that bioware clearly has no idea how to handle is...hmm how to describe it. narrative compounding?? the weight of all these games filled with choices that somehow have to cohere over one narrative despite being written and developed by whole teams of different people over the course of like 20 years. it's a problem mass effect doesn't have, at least not in the original trilogy, since the original trilogy is all about shepard. so it's easier to cohere all those choices together, and in ME3 i was actually really satisfied by the sensation of continuity and completion i ended up with, how many characters reappeared and remembered how i'd interacted with them before. i've always liked playing someone new in dragon age, but it makes it really difficult for the story to track all these previous decisions and ensure they have weight. and everyone's gonna get attached to different characters and questlines and outcomes and feel like they're important, but not all of them can actually BE important. i understand that. that's just part of the RPG experience. but i feel we're reaching a point in dragon age where each subsequent game disregards increasingly critical aspects of the previous game's story and it's making so much of the prior games feel retroactively...worthless. like. where's the inquisition? did nothing i do in that game matter? the developer Q&A mentioned that you'll design your inquisitor in the character creator, so clearly they're part of the game, so why ALSO say the inquisition's not a significant faction in the game? wtf are we DOING??? and obviously the Warden's been AWOL since DAO and i doubt that'll change, and the developer Q&A mentioned the Here Lies The Abyss choice won't make an impact so that possibly rules Hawke out too, and as the games go on it just feels more and more absurd that these past heroes have nothing to do with current crises, and all the timeskips create increasingly long lengths of time between each game, making new appearances from old characters seem more and more unlikely. and so many of the companions/old heroes can die in their respective games, so if bioware decides, hey, let's bring merrill back or whoever, how do we write around that? there's just too many choices, but the POINT of the games is the choices, and it's just become impossible to account for everything, but ignoring past plot beats/decisions/characters is frustrating for people like me, who play and replay and try different options and speculate about what might happen next based on their own specific choices. and some of it is understandable. like, i'm biased in favor of my preferred characters and questlines, obviously, and i can't always get what i want. but it's such a bizarre choice for something like...oh idk THE ENTIRE INQUISITION to stop mattering. ugh. augh!!!!! i can't take it
IN CONCLUSION
if varric dies in this game you will see me on the news
#dragon age#Veilguard negative word vomit don't like don't read etc#like. a lot of word vomit. this is way too long#i'm sorry. i really am. i hate being so mad about this game already. i wish i loved her. i just gotta get my thoughts out
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The Volunteer (Part Two)
Part two!
Honestly I have so much of this written in advance but I keep going back and changing things.
Part one
Part 3 is up!
The train's main room is filled with flowers, food and various drinks. Finnick and Mags sit in the chairs talking quietly to Titan when I enter for dinner.
“Ah good, come sit and eat.” Mags waves me over. I recognize her thick accent though it takes me a second. I approach, pulling myself out a chair next to Titan and across from Mags. My plate is already made and Mags smiles at me when I look at her.
“I was hoping you would join us. I figured you’d be hungry eventually so I made you a plate. It is all the best for you, we need you strong.” She encourages me, I nod slowly and start to dig in.
“I was telling Titan that a lot of tributes, besides careers most of the time, take this as a vacation. It is not a vacation. You should do what you can to be as prepared for the games and that includes not eating all the junk they try to give you.” Finnick says, Titan eagerly listening.
I stay quiet, not wanting to interrupt what little time Titan has to prepare. I’m not stupid enough to pretend I couldn’t use the help either. Anything I learn can be used to help Titan and hopefully get us to the end. If all goes well it will be the two of us and then he can go home.
My parents weren’t happy that both of us are here. But they said we better come home. One of us. I could tell they don’t really know who to support so they chose both of us. I told them Titan would be coming home and all my mother could do was try to keep the smile on her face.
My father was proud, he had said we had a better chance with the two of us. We can protect each other. Nobody else has the bond we do. He’s always been a fan of the games though he never ended up volunteering, choosing to stay with my mother. We weren’t such a career district in their days.
“That being said you should eat what you can, get lots of rest and train without overextending yourself too close to the games. Push what you can until the days before. Use that time to recover. You don’t want to be too sore the day of.” Finnick warns us,”What are your weapons?”
“Spear. Pyxis taught me what he knew. He taught both of us.” Titan tells him, our older brother wanted to volunteer but never had the chance. In recent years people have been volunteering more than ever.
He was tasked with looking after us, until he started working, while our parents worked. They work to send pearls to the districts and the capital for whatever they use them for. They are more of a luxury item but not every oyster has them. To keep up production and not kill every oyster trying to get the pearl takes a lot of time and energy.
“I’m decent with daggers.” I tell them, “I can hit a target.” My father got them for me as a present once I was of reaping age. Pyxis got a sword, I got daggers and Titan got a trident, in honor of Finnick Odairs victory three years ago. The last person from District Four to win.
“How about a moving target? Close range combat?” Finnick questions, I move the food around on my plate and shrug.
“She’s good. She trains against me and sometimes even Pyxis.” Titan grins, which makes me sit back in my plush chair as I remember all the times I would go easy on him to boost his confidence a little. I didn’t mean for him to get the confidence that he could win the hunger games.
Finnick nods along to Titans excited rambling and once he is finished, “So you all train at home.” He states and Titan goes on to tell him about everything we would do. My father wanted us all to be the best and the brightest in all categories.
“Yes. We all learn to work with a spear and chose an individual weapon once we are reaping age to add onto our training.” I inform him, “Daggers for me, trident for Titan. We have been top of our class in training but mainly in combat, not survival skills.” I tell Finnick, who nods in agreement as he thinks it over. Everyone has finished their plates besides me but I’m no longer hungry.
“Preferably I think it’s better to learn close combat but the goal is that neither you have to resort to that. Careers are usually older and have trained longer. They will excel in close combat so distance is your friend. They will have height and strength on both of you. Get your weapons and get out of there, it will be a bloodbath but between the two of you teaming up, hopefully they will go for the people singled out first. Keep your heads down and focus on each other so that they don’t notice you. That means they won’t see you as a threat if you’re together.” He tells us, focusing on Titan who is soaking up the information. His brown curly hair is floppy on his forehead and he seems younger than ever to me. I can’t even picture it in my head, him fighting in the arena.
I shake my head to lose the thought and look over at Mags who is watching me. Her gaze is soft and pitiful towards me. “I think I’m going to retire to bed now,” I push away from the table, running a hand over Titans head, “get some sleep, get me if you need me, yeah?”
With that I leave the room, making my way to my room where I lay awake until the sun rises. Titan never comes to get me but I’m not surprised. This is apparently his dream and my nightmare.
~~~
The amount of people it takes to get one person ready to be in the Capitol to stay for less than a week astounds me. I haven’t grown up in poverty by any means but I also haven't had three people waxing my body at any point in my life until now either. It doesn’t help that my family has thick dark hair, we are tan like the rest of District Four from how much time we spend outside and in the water.
Most of the people in Four tend to be golden or bronze haired like Finnick, though not all have the famous looks he has. He is the perfect ideal for someone from our district. No wonder he’s the Capitol golden boy.
By the time they’re done stripping the skin off my body, I'm left in a hospital gown waiting for my supposed personal stylist for the games. Everyone here has the craziest hair colors and style. I know it is more outrageous here than in the districts, even in the more favored ones but I didn’t think it was quite this insane. District Four is a little more natural because of how hot it tends to be. Any of these updo’s would melt under the beating sun. We are known for the bright coast, beaches and sunsets.
“Oh aren’t you wonderful!” a squeaky voice interrupts my thoughts as I turn to face the woman walking into the room, “I’m Phaedra, your stylist for the games as well as your brothers. You two are a dream, everyone is so jealous that I have siblings. It doesn’t hurt that you two aren’t ugly. You may not be the typical District Four tributes with your hair but it won’t matter.” she rambles as she comes closer. Her outfit is bright orange and molds to her body. There are blue strands weaving around her that are connected to the orange dress and are the same color as her hair which is put up into waves with the front strands clipped behind so they don’t fall into her face. It almost reminds me of flowing water.
“Now, tomorrow is the Tribute Parade and I am happy to announce that I have the perfect outfits for you both. It’s not like your brother has much to show off yet but I'm thinking for you we can do a darker look to match your hair. Seductive Siren. Scales and all that. If only we could put you as the sun but your hair is too dark for that, though it would be more fitting for your name. Are we attached to the dark hair?” She picks up a lock of hair and examines it, twirling it between her fingers. Her nails are painted a bright orange that matches her makeup.
Sirens are an old Four myth, the body of a woman with the voice of a mockingjay that can mimic anyone and use anyone. “I would like to keep it.” I murmur, she gives a slight pout and drops the strand.
“Your brother said the same.” Well at least we have that in common. “Oh well, I suppose not all of you can look like Finnick Odair. Isn’t he gorgeous?” she gossips, giving me a grin that makes me feel like she’s trying to get me to girl-talk with her.
“He’s focused on my brother. I don't exactly hang out with him.” I tell her, hopping off the table. The tile is cold against my bare feet, which would probably make the hair on me stand up if I had any.
“What a shame.” She comments, “Well your outfit is being made now that we have your measurements. I will see you in the morning for the Parade. Get some beauty sleep, the bags under your eyes aren’t doing you any favors.” she waves towards the general direction of my face as she walks out.
Lovely.
Phaedra fusses over the tresses of my hair, trying to make it perfectly frame my shoulders and chest. Scales are covering my chest that is kept up by a sticky band keeping everything up and pulled together, a few scales trailing down my arms sparingly until they reach the back of my hands. The rest go down to my navel and then the bottom of my body is covered by a black and blue cloth that shimmers against the light. I resemble a dark fish.
She goes to fix the headpiece that looks like dark seashells that seem to make a sort of crown. Her platform heels give her a few inches on me, even though I'm also wearing heels. As someone who does not wear heels often, it makes me wonder how I'll stay balanced on the chariot.
Mags approaches with Finnick behind her and a grinning Titan, where both of them have a face of shock as they see my outfit. I give a thin-lipped smile and thank Phaedra as she backs away with her hands clasped in front of her as she surveys me.
“Well look at you,” Mags says, “you look.. fancy.” she quickly adds, giving Phaedra a smile as she stops next to her.
“It makes you look older.” Finnick states, taking in my makeup and outfit.
“Well, what am I supposed to put her in a mermaid costume? Don’t be ridiculous Finnick, she’s almost 17, practically an adult.” Phaedra waves him off, he crosses his arms and turns to Mags who pats his arm.
I turn to Titan, who is shirtless but also has the same scales all over him and a pair of tight black scale pants. “You look great. You’re going to glow in the sun and give them all a big smile, okay?” I tell him, going to brush his hair out of his face until Phaedra bats my hand away.
“It is styled perfectly, don’t touch it.” she raises an eyebrow at me before going back to grinning. “Now both of you on the chariot, hop up. They’ll be starting any minute now.” Titan hops up eagerly, helping pull me up when the slit in the skirt only goes so far.
Mags comes around to me and says “Smiling and waving goes to you as well, you both could use the sponsors. Finnick and I can only advertise the District Four darling siblings so far. You need to win them over and this is your first main impression before the interviews.” she advises, I watch as the people ahead of us start to pull forward out of the corner of my eye and nod towards her. She moves back to the side to Finnick and Phaedra, who look like polar opposites. There is a dull roar of cheering coming from the opening of the building that the chariots are pulling out of.
Finnicks arms are crossed over his chest and there is a frown on his face while Phaedra looks like she is going to burst with a grin split over her face. The Chariot starts to pull forward and Mags pulls her chin up and motions for me to smile.
So that’s what I do. As the chariot pulls out from the covering and into the sun, I ignore the fact I'm blind for a second and raise my arm to wave towards the crowds on the side that slowly come into vision as the brightness fades. The crowds are much louder out here, and while I can’t really focus on anyone's face as the chariot keeps moving, I look around and on my brother's side to see the people there. In front of us are chariots pulling to where President Snow and Capitol people sit waiting for the Chariots to pull in.
We pull to a stop, where I keep waving until I glance over my shoulder to see a few others pull into the center. Eight more districts followed behind us but only take a few minutes to pull to a stop for the completed circle.
If I weren’t so scared of Phaedra’s reaction to messing up the scales precariously placed all over Titan, I would hug him because as I actually get a clear look at all the people staring at us, it gets harder to keep my smile. These people are here to get a clear look at us before they send us off to die. Few of them will actually become our sponsors and only with the encouragement of Mags and Finnick. There are probably even a few excited to see if Titan and I will turn on eachother.
That’s a hard pill to swallow as I watch him grin up at the people above in the stands. I only hope that he realizes this before the games. One of us will be going home and I hope it’s him. I don’t think I could come back here to do a victory tour and look at the people who cheered against us, or for us, not caring that I watched my little brother die and parade around after saying I won as if it’s a happy occasion. Or pretend to be so delusional that I'm happy to be a victor.
So he has to be the one to do it. He can be the new youngest Victor and I will support him in every way I can. Even if it means to smile and wave at the people sending 24 children to fight or die.
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Not just fire emblem fans, fire emblem team too. It's so gross that pedophilia and grooming was put into the game and just accepted like that
It continues to pop up because societal trends have shown people find it acceptable to spend money on things that include it (whether they want it there or simply prefer not to see it). I don't know enough about Japanese societal norms to say anything about its inclusion, but I know Fire Emblem is certainly not the only Japanese game to push these kinds of boundaries. (The way Ken is dealt with in Persona 3 on the FeMC route has also been coming up again.) I don't know if such things keep getting put in because they're deemed acceptable by Japanese society, if they're put in because they bring in extra money, or if those involved in writing such things genuinely see no problem with them.
And note I am not disparaging Japanese society or cultural norms here - I simply do not know enough to have an opinion about how and why such decisions have been made and continue to be made.
What I do know is that I appreciate the translation teams now doing more to tone down, if not remove completely, the elements of romance between characters in late teens or adulthood and those who are pre-pubescent. (I say pre-pubescent as a general term rather than underage, since the concept of age of consent or maturity does differ between cultures. That's a very different kettle of fish that, again, I am not widely informed enough to comment on.)
I do not believe in censorship, except self-censorship (for instance, I will happily censor myself from watching Terrifier 2!). But I also don't think adjusting something along these lines is censorship: nobody is denying the original text. No one is being prevented from reading the script or playing in Japanese. But changes were made to be acceptable to an English-speaking audience, and they were a positive change (I feel). And much, much better than the heavy-handed have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too tactic we saw in Awakening (Nowi referencing her age repeatedly while retaining the body of a child, and what's more a child in the revealing clothing of a slave) or in Fates ("like the adult that you technically are" - "we've designed this character to look like a child, but look, one line says she isn't!"). And the societal norms I can speak of from personal experience - the ones common in the US and parts of Western Europe - could not justify a romantic attachment to an 11-year-old, nor telling an 11-year-old you'll wait for them to grow up.
(And again, I am not saying Japan would find this generally acceptable either. I am saying I AM NOT FAMILIAR ENOUGH TO KNOW.)
That said, I can't speak on the inclinations of the team in Japan, but I do know that something along those lines is not acceptable to an English-speaking audience. I do believe America, in particular, is weirdly prudish and puritan about sex generally, but that does not stretch to thinking it should involve pre-pubescent or pubescent children. Especially if it is presented as if it is a positive thing (compared to, say, something like Lolita or Gigi or Pretty Baby - and the last two come very close to uncomfortable territory anyway). Hence my saying something about the English-speaking fans decrying this decision, but not the team in Japan who originally wrote it (due to my own ignorance). Do I think 11-year-olds should be sexualized anywhere? Absolutely not. But that's a different issue. I am also very careful about tossing around the word "pedophilia," because it is a predilection that may or may not be present in either those writing or playing games where it is possible to romance or marry underage characters. I honestly don't think many of those complaining about this are actual pedophiles - as in, people who are primarily sexually attracted to children, whether or not they ever act on that predilection. They're people who have been driven into a frothing rage because they feel that localization changes mean something has been denied to them. That's not evidence of pedophilia, and using that word casually risks downplaying what pedophilia actually is, particularly those who act on it or create child sex abuse materials geared specifically towards those who would. No actual children are at greater risk of being harmed because of a video game script. So I'd avoid using that term myself. (I'm not saying none of those involved - in creation or playing - are not pedophiles, but rather, that using the current situation alone as evidence is both inaccurate, and risking the beginning of a slide down a very slippery slope. If you're truly worried about censorship, consider that such actions often begin with something like this, then snowball: see the Hayes Code, the Comics Code, etc). What is in the game does sound like it reflects grooming behavior, but it does not prove anyone involved at any stage is a pedophile.
If someone disagrees with the script changes, I wish them luck with learning Japanese. But as I play in English, and already have had difficulty in the past getting through some games that did retain things of that nature, I appreciate the re-write. What bothers me more is that many of those complaining about it seem to particularly focus on questionable elements being changed (like this, or like the drugging in Soleil's supports), but not actual problematic elements or plot points (like Soleil only being able to S-support men - many of the same people yelling about the support script changes defend those S-supports.)
In the end, I'm not going to toss around words like "pedophile" or "grooming." Those can ruin lives. And I see people every day also saying my sexuality is inherently predatory. I'm not a predator - I am an adult woman in a relationship with another adult woman - and I'm not inclined to assume anyone else is either. Not based on the evidence of a video game script.
So... that's my piece on it, I guess. Not sure how coherent it is.
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Hello hello! It’s CMA again:)
Btw I didn’t tell my family anything about why I was late coming up lololol- I think they’re used to me keeping odd hours at this point haha
Also ahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!! I love that you answered my essay and that you had such an amazing response to it!!!!!
Okay I’m going through this- I feel like we’re writing letters where we each go through each point at a time when we write back in long chunks of text to one another, which I guess is essentially what we’re doing, but regardless I love it<3
I wonder if clover realizing that she’s being a hypocrite is going to extend to when she’s in love. Like we already know that she doesn’t recognize her own feelings as being feelings of love, but then I wonder if when she realizes it will change her belief system at all.
I mean I know that this has been hinted to- the contrast between her beliefs and reality/her own feelings- but I wonder if she will still think that most marriages are abusive and she and her friends are just lucky, or if she will have to confront the fact that she was wrong. Either way, I’m really looking forward to seeing how this plays out.
And re: the character flaws thing-
You’re totally right! I actually think that a major problem that I have with a lot of writing, including those in movies and stuff, is that the characters don’t have real flaws so they’re not really relatable. They’re good at everything they try: super smart, funny/witty, athletic, and morally inscrutable; we always know that they’re going to do the right thing and/or find a way to fix things.
We don’t get to see them make mistakes, or their flaws are just like ‘haha sometimes I’m TOO nice:)))’, or all their mistakes are completely selfless, like ‘I’m going to sacrifice myself even though there might be another way because I don’t want anyone else to get hurt’, which is completely noble and admirable, but not super realistic. Like you’re telling me that their only flaw is that they’re TOO good???
But in your stories they’re not perfect at everything. They’ve all got their fatal flaws that actually cause problems, but also cause them to grow and learn. They’re selfish sometimes and care too much or not at all; they’re real, they’re human. One thing I’m learning about myself is that I love media that portrays this, which is why I am so in love with your work.
Okay back to the story lol:
Ohhh okay phew I was worried about them moving to Italy lololol. I guess it would make sense that there’d be multiple, I just wasn’t sure lol.
I also feel like clover is the type to get hung up on small details when she draws. She’d be like ‘I have to draw the leaf in a PERFECT heart shape to convey the angle and how this makes it unique compared to other flowers’ and it would be this super small detail that absolutely nobody but her notices.
I like what you said about their relationship being equal. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the entire trope where it’s like balancing wanting to protect the people you love from information that will hurt them versus trusting them to make their own decisions and valuing honesty.
I feel like Anthony tends to lean towards the first option with both Cherie and Charlie because he has a more protective instinct and also like you said, struggles with control, but Ben knows that clover won’t trust him if he doesn’t trust her, and also that she really values him being honest. I think that it’s a really interesting distinction because my impression is that in his relationships that we’ve seen, Anthony wouldn’t tell either of them things that they don’t necessarily need to know, even if he’s struggling, or he would have a hard time sharing that, whereas Ben would want to share that with her.
I could be totally wrong on that though lol, but it’s the emphasis on equality that really stood out to me.
And to the next point you wrote, I know you’ve mentioned wanting to distinguish the stories from one another, and I think that you’ve done that really impressively well. I wasn’t sure how a story set in the exact same setting/universe would be dramatically different but they totally are in a really good way. It really shows your capability as a writer and also the nuance of the time period instead of just the stereotypical narrative I tend to think about and read when it comes to regency fics.
Re: sprint vs marathon-
Back to enamored, I feel like cherie and Anthony learning to pace themselves was a huge part of their development, whereas in GoS it’s more like learning to appreciate that you are making progress, even if it doesn’t always feel like it.
Eek I’m so happy you liked the bit I wrote and that we can both fangirl over this story together!!! I love that so much, and I am SO flattered your feedback and praise!!
Actually me the entire time reading your reply -> 🥰🥰🥹
Hello my loveeee! ❤️❤️
Lolll my family is the same, they made their peace with the fact that my sleeping schedule is quite strange 😂❤️
I LOVE LETTERS SO MUCH 😍
Oooh that's a wonderful point! ❤️ I do believe she will have some of that thinking at the back of her mind even when she realizes she is in love with Benedict ❤️ I think she will think her and her friends are the lucky ones and most of the marriages are just not like theirs 💔 It won't be such a strict opinion like now, but I also don't think it will just go away because that thought came from years and years of trauma 💔
You are so sweet! ❤️ Yessss I totally agree with you, I look for character flaws in the books/media I consume and it's so nice to hear that I could reflect the flaws as actual flaws rather than something that'll only serve the plot or a boost to the likeability of the character❤️
Clover would so obsess over the tiniest detail of her own drawings yes! ❤️ Meanwhile everyone is like "Yeah that's a leaf" 😂
Oh I haven't seen that one actually but it makes so much sense! ❤️ Anthony would definitely be hesitant to tell Cherie he is struggling even if they are completely in love, and he would try to deal with it himself first before telling Cherie about it because it's a personality thing for him at this point💔 He wants to protect Cherie from anything unpleasant ❤️
Benedict would be more open about it! ❤️
That's such good news omg😍❤️ I'm so glad to hear that the two stories are totally different from each other! 😍
"learning to appreciate that you are making progress, even if it doesn't always feel like it" THIS IS SO TRUE FOR THEMMMM!
Darliiiiing ILYSM! ❤️❤️ I'm smiling at the screen rn! 🥰❤️❤️
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Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#3)
I don’t feel much like socializing after lunch. Fatigue from all the cooking and delivering, probably. Or maybe me not wanting to interact with any similarly depressed people.
Or with Tsunyasha and Ichiriki. Whatever they are.
I’ll have plenty of time to play pool, as far as I know, but the filing cabinet might be more urgent. I’ll go for that first, then.
I find the key and head upstairs.
“Where did I leave off...?”
Hmm... Itsurou? I don’t think I made it to him.
“And I skipped over Aki’s, too, right?”
Do I really feel like doing this? Will I ever? I could try waiting...
But we’re all falling apart at this point. If looking for information is just about all I can do to get us out of here, then I’m going to do it. Nobody’s given me any better ideas than hunting down the mastermind and forcing them to give us the exit code. And when all you’ve got is a hammer...
Or a key, in this case.
I shuffle the tiny key out of my pocket and get it into the keyhole with an unpleasant series of metallic grinding noises. Have to wonder how old this junk is. From the dents alone, I’m guessing a good few years. Still haven’t seen any documents older than our own class, but I’ve only just started looking through. I’ll keep an eye out.
I silently fish out Itsurou’s folder—thinner than most of the ones in his own filing cabinet—but I don’t get it open before a flash of movement makes me freeze.
“...”
I don’t hear a thing. Was it just a stray lock of hair moving? Or am I being watched?
Besides by the cameras.
File still in hand, I slowly start to turn—
“What foolishness, dare I ask, is this?”
I jump and slap the folder to my chest so I don’t drop it. Sure doesn’t make me look any less conspicuous, though. How did she get right in front of me?
“Besides you sneaking up on me?”
“Ohoho. Had i been ‘sneaking up’ on you...”
“...you’d never know until you were already dead.”
Think I’d have trouble knowing much of anything at that point.
As I take a deep breath, Tsunyasha twirls a knife around her finger. That must be what I saw before.
“No foolishness here. Just checking some spots I missed earlier.”
“Of course. You mortals do have such trouble observing all there is around you, hmm? Even within your own plane.”
“Truly sad creatures.”
“I assume you’re not doing the same, then.”
She shakes her head. “Merely keeping a close eye on you lot.”
“....”
With her, I can’t even say whether half-stalking me is suspicious or not. But it’s definitely strange to stand here having a perfectly normal conversation after... all of that.
"Normal” relative to her, I mean.
“.....”
“Oh? Do you take issue with my methods?”
“Well, yes, generally, but. Not what I was thinking about.”
How could I phrase this in a way she might answer?
“I was just wondering... Where were you, during the last trial?”
“I beg your pardon?”
All right, that didn’t do it.
“What’s the last thing you remember from...”
“...when Kaichi was still alive?”
“...”
“I’ve no need to entertain your meaningless questions.”
“Meaningless?”
“Yes. Do recall I’m not restrained to such concepts as ‘time,’ as you mortals are.”
“Right...” Strike two.
“But you do know that Kaichi’s gone?”
“Of course.”
“And Yuki?”
She shakes her with a sigh.
“You are not the first to ask me of these things, dark one.”
“Do be assured I’m quite well aware of everything.”
“Including how you were acting during trial?”
“The trial for the legless one?”
“Ignoring your horrendous taste in nicknames, yes.”
“You dare reduce my holy epithets to ‘nicknames’?”
Hm, yeah, remembering why I don’t like talking to her.
“Fine, I repent, whatever—just, what was going on there?”
It takes her a second to switch back out of her holy vengeance mode or whatever, but at least she is cooperating.
“Ah, of course. I’m sure it’s quite difficult for one such as yourself to grasp, but I myself was not present.”
“No? Then who was present?”
“No one. A mere shell of one of my temporal forms.”
Not even trying to make sense of that one.
“I was surely engaging other planes in righteous battle at the time. But that is nothing you lot could hope to perceive.”
“I admit I do wonder what it must look like from the outside, to those who know nothing of these matters.”
“Looked like you were dissociating. Heavily. For hours.” Is that actually possible, strictly speaking? Even I never had it that bad, I don’t think. Not for such a solid block of time.
“...”
“I suppose there’s no need to wonder, then. How dull.”
“...”
And so we have her answers, whatever any of them actually mean. I doubt I’ll ever figure out if she remembers anything from her time “on other planes.” At least, not in any remotely direct way. Maybe I can come up with a Tsunyasha-ese translation later, but I’m not feeling up to the effort. Not sure why I’m trying this hard now, even.
Guess I’d like to know if she’s actually okay, in any meaning of the word. But we’re not friends. Maybe it's none of my business. Someone else can give it a shot, if they haven’t already.
“.......” What friends does she even have here? Maybe Kanagi?
I would’ve guessed Yuki, but...
...Whatever. It’s not my responsibility. If she doesn’t want to admit to anything, then I won’t push her.
Though it could be more about not being able to admit to anything.
“.....................”
Either way, trying to force an answer won’t get me anywhere. We can both look for a good therapist if we survive. That’s about all I’ve got.
“A mortal among mortals, hmm?”
I look up to see Tsunyasha browsing through a file.
The one I’d been holding.
“Hey—!”
“Hmm? Is there an issue, worm?”
“Perhaps you’re foolish enough to try concealing something from me?”
That’s not even my file? “Look all you want, just consider asking for the thing instead of swiping it right out of my hands?”
She tuts. “ ‘Swiping.’ Is that the deepest understanding of my techniques you can come to?”
“The deepest understanding of any part of you, seems like.”
“Unfortunate.”
She claps the folder shut with an intentional amount of noise. I have no idea if she took anything, but at least the file's clearly not empty.
“Imagine your failing health hanging over your head every waking moment of your breath of a life. Truly pitiable.”
She sets the file on the desk beside her and retreats to the door without a sound.
“Very well, enjoy your ‘checking,’ mortal.”
“After all, you haven’t long left yourself.”
She’s gone before I can ask if that was a threat. Then again, there’s no reason to believe her answer would be any clearer.
“........”
Tsunyasha... For all her posturing, she still hasn’t murdered anyone. Is she just waiting for the right motive, or has she never had killing intent at all?
Does she think it’s more amusing to watch us kill each other instead?
“..........”
Do I trust Tsunyasha? It’s harder to see her as a threat the more time passes. But someone has to be the “young master.” Right?
“I’ll never figure it out if I stop looking.”
That’s what this file quest is all about, anyway, right?
So let’s get to it.
[BACK] [NEXT]
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hayls' tumblr ♡
fic requests: rules and guidelines.
(still being edited!)
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hello everyone, my name is hayls! i've been writing privately just for myself for some time now, but i've finally gained the courage to take the next step and start writing things to post here on tumblr. i know that nobody reads these, although i'd really prefer that you do read these rules and guidelines before interacting with my account and/or requesting a fic! :]
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general account rules:
• do NOT talk about age! minors are accepted here, but i ask that you please do not share your age or any other personal information when interacting with my account. the internet can be a very unsafe place, so i'd like you to keep any personal information out of this and to yourself! along with minors, that goes for any adults as well; i've seen a lot of other accounts that have been arguing over the topic of age and i would not like to bring those arguments here. so for the sake of keeping things civil and safe, minor or not, i'd prefer that you keep your ages to yourselves and do not share anything personal here.
• this is a safe space where everyone should feel loved and welcomed. any harassment or bullying will NOT be tolerated, whatsoever. this account is all just for fun, there is no need to bring any negativity here. any hate or bullying will result in your account being blocked and reported, but i really hope that it doesn't have to come to that. if you don't have anything nice to say, please don't say anything at all. :]
• if you're going through something or need to talk, i ask that you please do NOT trauma dump in the comment sections of any of my posts. im always open to chat with you in my inbox, but as i said, i'd like to keep this account as positive as i can and any comments that i see including negative topics will be deleted. this may seem like a stupid rule, and as much as i'd love to let everyone vent as needed, i can't allow things like that to be happening in my comments. :[ but like i said, this is a safe, positive space where everyone is welcomed and loved-- so if you are going through something or need to talk, please feel free to message me privately and i'd be more than happy to help you out. <3 although i'd love to talk to everyone, i am not a professional and anything serious or harmful going on in your lives is something i am just simply not equipped to handle. if something is genuinely wrong or you and your loved ones are in danger, i ask that you please seek help and speak to someone who specializes in that line of work. as for anything else, i'd have no problem with talking to you if you just need someone to listen. message me privately, im just one dm away! im always here if you need anything, and don't be afraid to reach out if you do. 💕
summary:
• no talking about age or sharing personal information. stay safe!
• no bullying, harassment, or negativity will be tolerated. you will be reported and blocked. be nice!
• no serious trauma dumping in the comments or in my asks. i can't help with anything that's not my profession, i can only talk to you about it and provide as much reassurance as i can! im here if you need to talk so feel free to send me a dm, but anything major will need to be taken elsewhere. seek help if you need it!
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i'd like to address a few things before i go over my rules for fics and requests.
one: i am a very busy person, im always moving around and my mind is always moving more quickly than anything else is. if i write something that is not my best or is just not good, i apologize in advance and would like you to understand that i was 99.9% multi-tasking while writing. i try my best to write a good piece, and sometimes other things get in the way of that, so if it seems like things are rushed or put on hold then they probably are, and i apologize for that.
two: im a very open person, and i love my freedom. there will be times where im not feeling up to writing, or posting, or even talking-- there will be times where im just your average tumblr user and will not be doing anything other than reposting things i see on my feed. i love writing very much, and i don't want to feel forced to write something, to release a fic more quickly or reply to an ask as soon as it's sent-- my life comes first before my writing does. as i've said before, this is all just for fun and if i were to feel pressured to do this then i'd no longer want to do it. i want to post a piece of writing that im proud of, not something that was rushed or forced; i take my time and post things when im ready to. this means very slow and rare fic updates! i won't post a fic as often as other writers on this app do, but that just means that im working hard to create and put together a piece of writing that i like and am comfortable sharing with the internet. please be patient with me and take into consideration that i'll be trying to post as frequently as i can, but overall that my quality of writing will come before my quantity of writing.
three: if you request something that i am not comfortable writing about or something that i just simply would prefer not to write about, i ask that you please do not take offense / take an offensive approach and instead respect my decision to not use your request. i'd like to consider myself a carefree person and i truly am open to a lot of things, but there will be times where i might not be comfortable with what you're requesting or am just not inspired enough / interested enough to be writing about that topic and/or situation. i'll try to take as many requests as i can because you are all so creative and i absolutely love hearing your amazing ideas, but if i can't bring myself to write about your suggestion then i apologize tremendously! im not at all trying to be rude or judgemental when declining requests, but i imagine that a bigger percentage of my disapproved requests will be put aside due to my lack of inspiration in writing about that situation. if that happens to be true, i want you to realize that i am in no way hating on you and your interests; we're all different and we don't all like the same things, none of us should be ashamed about that! im open to writing about a lot of different topics and scenarios, but if i can't find a way to incorporate your idea into a fic then im very sorry. i want to use everyone's ideas, but i unfortunately am not able to if i can't get myself to be engaged with what i am writing. please understand that im more open to writing about things that i find entertaining than things that i don't, and if i don't take a request it's because i can't see myself writing about something like that. it's nothing against you, just a personal preference is all!
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fics and request rules:
coming soon!
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Mysteries
A missing pet
A haunted house
A treasure hunt
A secret code
I feel like it goes without saying these critters are like...teenagers?
Honestly I'm giving myself boxcar kids vibes with this idea. Like Critter Nancy Drew.
The Critters
The leader: smart, curious, level-headed - obviously, it's the raccoon because I love raccoons but also they're smart.
The one who's always there and is bfffs with the raccoon, a true ride or die. Is willing to run headfirst into trouble if it means helping the leader - a mouse? It would be cute if it was something small. Okay. Something small, but also tough. Mice aren't really?? Let me Google...a Mole? But does that make it weird because mysteries, moles? Actually. Yes she can be a huge dork in love. Glasses, a bow, the raccoon is always like bro you can't just run towards danger.
The sneaky one who doesn't mind getting dirty looking for the truth - ooooooo a rat? Because it gives the dirty and also shows that even though rats have a bad reputation, this little dude is doing a great job helping and you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. Isn't originally part of the group, but saves the mole from a snake? Cool that tracks. A rat can get a snake.
One of their parents? Look into what animals stay together as a family. I think possums? Raccoons?
Make a map
Make a map to include in the front so people know what the town looks like. Make it with rice like people do for D&D maps. Because that's cute shit. But make it like a kid would make the map.
There needs to be enough places and in a coherent manner
Each of their houses
Their hide out where they keep track of stuff
A grocery store
A park
The outer woods
A school
A bookstore or library? (moles parents work there and they get information from them because they don't think anything if it)
Other places?
An overall series arc?
I need to make a choice. How many books will this be? 3? 4?
It can be a yearly? And either middle school (3 grades) no. High school? So 4 grades and the series can end when they leave for college.
Make the rat the villain in the first one? And at the end of the first one he saves the mole from the actual bad guy, a snake, and the raccoon and mole realize that he'd be a good asset. And in that case there needs to be 3 to begin with and then the rat can round it out as the fourth member.
So the arc. Weird stuff is happening in town. Things are going missing, treasures are being found, but really the graduates just come back to keep up the premise of living in a haunted mystery town. It makes sense in my head.
Hmm maybe. Let me think. The mystery critters start high school, the trio are already friends from previous schooling. They hear from their older siblings about how weird things just happen in town their entire lives and they don't know why. They live for this story about how they live in a haunted town full of mysteries. They go to their first day of classes and everything is normal. They go in the next week and their history teacher is missing. Nobody has heard from him, he just didn't show up. They think it has everything to do with the mystery town. A rat is skulking around. They've never seen him before - but it turns out the history teacher is his uncle and he's worried. The trio doesn't know that yet and thinks the rat is bad news. They do odds and ends and find notes from back in the day about how people just started going missing and they were never heard from again (they're really just going to college and moving) - so they start looking for their history teacher. Eventually they're getting close to finding him and a snake shows up and tries to kill the mole but the rat saves her. Then the rat tells them the teacher is his uncle and how he'd been acting weird before he disappeared and he wants to help.
Book two - the rat uncle is back, but weird. Like different somehow. The quad doesn't understand where he's been but he's been gone and everyone else is just happy to have him back. The quad are all friends and are working on a science project for the science fair and it keeps getting sabatoged. They are just miffed at first but then they start turning on each other. One of them decides to have a stake out to see what's going on. They don't tell the group what they're doing, but in the morning they're found with the destroyed project. The 3 others are appalled that the critter would do this and shun them. The one who fell asleep vows to find who's doing this. I think it should be the raccoon because the mole would be conflicted. So then the mole starts watching the raccoon more closely because how could they just destroy this many years of friendship. The raccoon decides to do another stake out under the cover of darkness and the mole stakes out the raccoon.
I'm getting a little lost right now.
I'll reread this a little later and get it together. I have to do normal errands now
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Titian 1538 Venus of Urbino. Oil on canvas; 47" × 65".
Cool facts are:
1. Nobody knows who the girl in the painting is.
2. looking at a woman gives the idea of beauty instead of a sense of improper looking.
3. This can only be understood by understanding the figures such as Venus instead of a nude woman.
4. This painting gives sensuality and directness but that is also lightened by the softness of the painting. that is done by the soft hair framing her breasts and also the overall softness of the painting there are not any hard points or direct sharpness in the whole painting.
5. softness is created from oil paint that is from Italy that allows glazing to be done to the paintings to bring softness. as well as the richness of color. glazing is the light brightening areas of the paint that bring the softness of the girl's completion. this gives a sensual feeling to the girl.
6. Personal in the back of the painting gives the balance between her body and the whole painting.
My first thoughts:
So for the Number Nine Art piece, I was overwhelmed when I first saw it. This feeling was not bad it was just a little bit of shock and humerus. It's because I am Christian and you know that this kind of stuff is not what I was expecting but don't mind me I love to laugh.
The painting that I got was of confidence in the girl in the portrait as well as mid-century beauty. I also felt a bit of jealousy as you can see in the painting the girl was on her knee's while the lady standing over her seemed to be trying to comfort her. So this portrait had some very different feelings in it.
3. Write a short paragraph (4 sentences) answering these questions: Did the way you think about the art change from the first time you looked at it? Do you see anything different in the art now? (50 points)
Yes And No I have seen and heard of this art piece. I did know that nobody truly knows the girl's origins in the painting. And yes this painting gave me a settling look of sinfulness but also brought out some other parts that I was very interested in. I was very enlightened about the glazing techniques that the painting was a product of. And the overall softness and balance of the painting were a unique surprise to me.
2. ART AND WRITING - Select a work of art from your life. It must be something that hangs in your house or your room, something that is important to you or that you look at every day. Include a picture. In paragraph form (4 sentences), tell me about the art – what media were used to create it? What use does it serve? Do you think it is beautiful? Why?
This art piece has a special place in my life because it is a memory of my old home. In the mornings when I when to school in my 9th and 10th-grade years of high school I would walk under light posts that would be beautiful in the morning hours. When I moved here to Florida It wasn't the same and I had a period of my life that was not in the best place. With that in mind, I expressed Myself with painting. This was the first painting I made because I missed Washington and I loved the gloomy morning hours on my walk to school. I think this is beautiful and I did not even realize how flowy and elegant it was until the end.
3. WRITING A SELF-PORTRAIT - Create a perceptual profile. What “baggage” are you bringing along when you look at art? This helps us see from what exact point in the world we view and receive visual information.
Answer the following questions:
How old are you?
I am Affisaly 19 years old since May 1st!
What is the gender you primarily align with?
Female (She/her)
Where are you from?
This is a mixed Question. I am originally from Ukraine but moved to the US in 2006. I have lived in Washington state for most of my life which is about 15 in a half years. I moved to Florida the August of 2020 and have been here since so 3 years.
What is your ethnicity?
I am Uranian.
What do you do for fun?
A Mix of things I love to work out, draw, write, and hangouts with friends. I do really love to travel around new places. I also love going out for coffee.
Are you a member of any organized group?
Well, I Am Pentecostal Christian I am a part of a church. I do sing in the choir and I am a part of a group of volunteers that help around.
Where do you work?
I am a manager at a Greek restaurant that is getting pretty popular recently.
What makes you uniquely you?
Well I am intimidadtin yet I am soft and bougie. I am extremely bold and not very shy. I am an athlete it was in wrestling and weightlifting. I am a very good multitasker and I am good at a lot of things. I am a manager at 19 years old. I have many hobbies and things I love to do. I am fancy and expensive when I want to be. I am a very serious person and I am really funny but I can’t understand Hummer. I have a very bad resting face that makes me seam mad or disinterested. I have a defining scar that I practically have has since I was little.
4. ART PROJECT (SELF-PORTRAIT) – Look at the work of Romare Bearden in Revel or online. He created collages that combine media (gouache, pencil, colored pencil) and photographs to express things from his life that he thought people could universally relate to. He was representing himself powerfully long before the advent of selfies.
What are you fascinated by in your daily life?
How I am still here lol. I had a tough life and was in dark places but am still here happier than ever.
Create a self-portrait that somehow represents YOU.
This could be a selfie (remember this is ART - your representation should encompass the definition as introduced in our text, and this is a graded assignment), a virtual collage, anything you assemble that communicates something to the viewer. But don’t let me (or anyone else) limit you – be as creative as you desire! Think about HOW your self-portrait will elevate the viewer's understanding of the subject = you
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The season 3 finale of Big Sky was the most anticlimactic finale for a TV show that I've ever seen. Think of a balloon when the air is let out. It was the most jarring, disconnected mess.
I've been through many, many TV shows, including the BBC Merlin and Once Upon a Time. Those shows had some wacky finales, but they were still exciting, they brought a new element that left the story on a cliffhanger, and most of the plot threads from the current season were tied up neatly. They also made you want to keep watching the show.
I don't know what it was that I watched last night. I feel like the show didn't answer even half of the questions that it brought up during the entire season. I have a list of the questions I wanted answered and which are probably going to stay unanswered.
Why/how did Paige steal the money in the first place and why was Luke involved in the theft?
Buck is the Bleeding Heart killer but never explains why, not even to Sunny? He said he tried to do good but can't explain why he murdered innocent girls and put their hearts in jars? Wtf? Is he just a cold-blooded psychopath? What is his story or "excuse"?
Walter's murderous tendencies (hunting Luke, the backpacker) are just wiped away as if they never happened?
Why was Avery even in Montana in the first place?
Why/how did Avery agree to work with the syndicate to get part of the money?
How did Avery know about the money or Paige/Luke when he got into Sunny's camp?
Who the hell ARE Paige and Luke?
Was Walter holding Paige against her will? Did she have any real feelings for him or just manipulated him?
Why does Buck kidnap Denise and Emily? He doesn't bargain for his freedom and I'm not even sure he knew that Paige saw the heart jars. What was even the point of this? He acted like he had no clear motive?! He could have asked Sunny to come anyway?
Second, I think the show was unfair to a lot of people who were shipping the main couple because nothing happened. We're not asking for big dramatic gestures, but as far as I'm concerned, it seems like Jenny's interest in Beau was one-sided/unrequited and even if that interest was sort of returned, it was too weak to be noticeable. I would have preferred for them to just be good friends and partners instead of the writers teasing a building romantic relationship that they had no intention of pursuing. Maybe the season just wasn't long enough. At this point it seems like they are anticipating the show will not be renewed and they didn't want to upset anyone in particular, either those who don't like Jenny and Beau as a couple or those who wanted them to get together. When are writers going to learn that you can't make everyone happy and you shouldn't even try because that's bad storytelling? Pick a side, people!
I will admit I started watching Big Sky because of Jensen Ackles and his great performance in The Boys. I think the acting is good, but the scripts suck. Honestly, what even was this finale? It was action filled and yet it felt like nothing happened. There were no real stakes because nobody really got hurt except for Buck, and I even would have appreciated an ambiguous ending where we weren't sure whether the big baddie or the good guy survived.
I feel like parts of the story were taken for granted and the writers expected us to fill in the blanks ourselves without giving us any backstory or explanation. I'm afraid that just won't cut it for me. I'm not saying that I need everything to be handed to me on a platter - I can think and figure things out for myself - but I still need them to give me enough information to put together. Everything was so disconnected and motives were so unclear that the reason I should feel anxious or concerned for the characters didn't exist. Buck had no legitimate reason to kidnap those girls, and he didn't do anything with that action except ask for his wife, who wasn't in prison or under arrest. She was just under surveillance and that was it. Again, there were no real stakes here.
To me, the writers seemed tired of their own story and opted to create an ending that was the easiest for them to write. Do I sound disappointed? Good, because I wasted so much time on this show, expecting it to be thrilling and well written, and I got a season finale that was written worse than for a fantasy show. The plot threads were not tied up as they should have been, and there was only partial resolution for character arcs. The red herrings were ridiculous. Sunny was advertised as the villain of the season, and while she was involved in crimes, it didn't feel like true villainy at all. Most of the time, I thought she was boring and not fleshed out enough for me to hate or even dislike. She seemed as much of a player as any of the other characters in the story, not the villain that is supposed to stand directly opposite the hero or even anti-hero. Then Buck didn't even go to jail or do penance for all those girls and other people he killed. The serial killer tendencies are hinted at too late to make much of an impact. He was evil but not fleshed out enough to be a villain either! Why should I even care when he never said why he believed he could do what he did, knowing that it was wrong? Motivation is what makes characters evil or good. I even speculated that Buck was covering up for Cormac or they were both serial killers, a father and son duo. Anything?! You can't just say, "Oh, he's a serial killer!" and that's it. No explanation, no motivation, nothing. ALL CRIME HAS A MOTIVE. FREE WILL = MOTIVE.
Even if Big Sky gets renewed for a 4th season, I don't think I'll be watching it. Rant over.
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i crash, u crash.
SUMMARY: Being with Dabi wasn’t easy and it probably never will be, but he just wants to make sure you’ll stick around. Or in which Dabi tries his best to show you he cares about you.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: based off i crash, u crash by lil peep! lol honestly idk about this one. but welcome back gift for me, from me, to you <3
PAIRING: Boyfriend!Dabi & Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT: 5,476
WARNINGS: Explicit Content, Dabi is toxic, Angst*, NSFW [18+] including spitting, slight daddy kink, squirting, slight overstimulation.
© todourouki
Sex with Dabi was always the same.
Routinely speaking, whenever he was back from a mission was the time you were expected to be on all fours waiting for his attention. It was always rough too, nothing short of angry and aggressive even if it was a form of “love-making.” He could call it what he wanted to though, he knew the universal term for his type of sex was simply fucking.
The positions and their timings were always on schedule. No more than 3 minutes in missionary— all the time in the world doing everything else. You never really got to touch him, and he’s never let you see his face when he came.
The relationship of hot and fiery sex mixed with an unrequited form of codependency grew to an actual romantic one somehow between the days and nights spent together, yet nothing of the dynamic ever changed. The only thing you could recall is that he groggily asked of you to “finally be his girlfriend since you already acted like it.”
Dabi was a complicated person. You never knew if he planned on waking up and deciding he wanted to be single, and honestly the day he decided to do such a thing wouldn’t be a surprise to you. He was an avid participator in the league of breaking hearts and even if you had more than enough knowledge on this, you allowed his sneaky smirk to seduce you into the sheets of his bed and hours of his days.
You eventually found yourself moving in, figuring out that he refused to sleep without the air conditioner on, never wore socks around the house, used way too much salt on his eggs, and never managed to close the curtains after he got out the shower. Above all that though, he never changed the way he fucked you.
Dabi loves you, of course you never had to question it or get reassurance. He showed you in minuscule ways such as stealing bringing you your favorite snacks after a long day without you, doing things such as buying double of what he gets from store runs because you’re in his mind all day, and telling you he’ll be safe for you once he walks out the door. He never says I love you, but he doesn’t need to.
It’s hard to get someone like him to change the way they are, so when you’re sitting on your shared bed flipping through a magazine and see a couples quiz linger across the page, you can’t help but try to feed yourself crumbs of his affection you know you’ll spend a lifetime searching for.
“How long did it take for you to realize you like me?” You broke the silence, squinting at the duo-skin toned man slouched across the wooden headboard.
You heard him chuckle, blinking longly at you with amusement glimmering within his cerulean irises. It wasn’t rare for Dabi to mock you for asking such a thing, but it was a rare moment for you to glare at him deadpanned and genuinely waiting for an answer. It fucking confused him.
“As long as it took you to make me cum the first time.”
You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment enough to make him furrow his eyebrows. It wasn’t like you to not retaliate back, you were always quick to snap back at him. Hearing nothing but his own breathing as you skipped through pages made him furrow his eyebrows. He wanted to ask if you were okay— he really did, but then you’d think he cared.
And Dabi would be a terrible person if he let you know he cared.
The silence was nearly overbearing, nearly deafening in his ears as he tried his hardest to focus on anything but your serious expression haunting him in the back of his mind. Things like this rarely bothered him. It goes to say that Dabi was rarely ever bothered.
Sure, you never asked for much reassurance and never even did as much as ask if he meant it when he asked you out mid-nap, but he really did. Sure, you lived off the whim of thinking it was, but at least the raven haired man knew it was. Right?
The sound of the magazine slamming shut and getting thrown somewhere onto the bed broke Dabi of his thoughts. “I’m gonna’ pee.” You announced, mostly to no one in particular because your soft eyes refused to meet his own. Another rare occurrence.
You lied to Dabi for the first time in your life. Did you really have to pee? Of course not. Did you have to cry in the bathroom for a quick 2 seconds to release the pent up frustration of utter confusion? Of course you did. It was annoying— living with someone and only getting treated as if you were anything in the slightest to him when his dick was inside of you. He only ever fucks you rough and never lets you see his face, and he expects you to believe he wants to be with you?
After cleaning your solemn face from dry tears, your body grudgingly made its way out the bathroom and to the bed. Your presence within the studio was clear, panties strewn across the open drawers mixed with Dabi’s briefs, shoes tucked neatly compared to Dabi’s boots tossed lazily near the door, and perfume bottles layering up against the old brown dresser. You took a quick glance at a picture of you hanging on the wall, a familiar raven-headed man’s arms wrapped around your head as he towered over your frame with his head resting across your head.
It was never worth the confusion.
“Why were you crying?” His dark voice rang out, making you slightly flinch as you dented the soft mattress with your frame.
A quick shake of the head will do, you thought to yourself as you followed your own orders. You knew Dabi wouldn’t push to find out what was wrong, he never does. And he doesn’t, lips shut as he takes a drag from some cigarette he’s smoking and giving you a longing look of aggravation. It’s even less of a surprise for him to do such a thing.
“If you have something to tell me, then I suggest you do it.” If you hadn’t known Dabi for as long as you do, you’d probably assume he was being condescending and outright rude. Because you do know him though, you know that’s exactly how he’s trying to come off to you.
You dreaded it. The eventual confrontation that was inevitable from the moment you accepted to be his girlfriend— it all led to this moment in space and time. You felt exactly how you predicted you’d feel, sick and intimidated. Not necessarily by Dabi because you know he’d never hurt you, but intimidated by the fact that it’s as easy as 1-2-3 for him to up and leave depending on your answer.
“What are we, Dabi?” And there it goes, 1-2-3.
It was like hearing a pin drop. Nobody moved, nobody spoke, nobody did anything for the first three seconds following the ultimatum. He knew he had two options: answer genuinely and reveal information he’d die before releasing, or leave you high and dry yet again for his own benefit when it comes to the mere idea of using words he doesn’t use in bed.
Staring into your eyes never scared him, he cremating people for a living, but knowing that lying behind them were tears falling for your reflection rather than on his shoulder caused a pang to hit his chest. It was unfamiliar and unusual, but looking at your body begin to leave its space in the bed in frustration with his quietness made him snap. You were serious for the first time.
“I’m not going to repeat myself.” Your words were harsh, harsher than usual and you yourself couldn’t even tell where this newfound energy came from.
You were okay. You were okay with whatever this complicated situationship was, and you probably would have still been okay with it if you hadn’t gotten too deep in over your head and let his words get to you. Him saying he realized he liked you coincidentally while you fucked should be above you, yet here you are.
“Jesus doll, relax.” He taunted, hands reaching out to grab your arm in a fit of confusion and annoyance, “just come back to bed Y/N.”
You felt it - the minute he touched your arm and released the tiniest bit of heat coming off his palm - just how tense he was becoming. He knew once you put your mind to something, it was difficult to get you to move away from it. He knew that there was no escaping this conversation.
It was inevitable really, the fact that one day (which was, unfortunately for him, today) you would question the legitimacy of his emotions for you. You were carefree just like him, that’s why he fell for you. But you were also blunt. If you felt a way, you were going to say it and that’s that.
Easily, the scarred hand gripping onto your arm slid over to your clenched jaw. You didn’t mean to give him a hard time for not looking his way—with the way his fingers squeezed deep into your skin and tilted your head towards him, you knew you did. It almost repulsed you with how obedient your body was to his touch, glancing at him with no shame other than the dried tears threatening to spill over.
“I’m gonna tell you the one time and I’ll never repeat myself,” he threatened, voice treading amongst angry waters as his blue eyes bored into yours, “I’m serious.”
You stood your ground, eyes taking away from your scowling expression as they swirled in curiosity. It didn’t take much to make you lower your frame onto the edge of the bed, a sigh escaping your lips as you pulled the t-shirt past your exposed panties.
“I don’t say much when it comes to you, or even to when it’s about you—but you’re all I am.” Your eyebrows furrowed, clear confusion written in your face.
“What does tha—” “I’m talking.” Dabi’s aggravated expression never left, not even with the joint hoisted between his lips in nothing but frustration.
“I got nothing to give you, nothing but collected calls from jail and maybe some jewelry I stole cause I got bored. I don’t have any money, anything to my name, and nothing but a spot on the police and hero department’s most wanted list.” His words made you frown, the clear self-depreciation outweighing the cocky and arrogant attitude you once knew to belong to the man infront of you.
“I can’t look you in the eye, show you my face when you milk my cock clean— can’t do shit like that,” Dabi’s smirk was quick to appear, your eyes rolling as you met his serious gaze yet again, “probably won’t be able to take you out the country either unless we run far, far away from here.”
“But nothing I say or do will ever express the way I feel about you.” And now it’s Dabi’s turn for the 1-2-3 process, because that statement in itself made your brain stop working.
Your brain couldn’t comprehend the fact that Dabi’s free hand was circling your bare thigh, moving closer and closer to where he most felt at home. His words never faltered though, only slightly pausing to smoothly slip his hands onto the soaked folds of pink lace.
His words were thrown against empty ears. You couldn’t focus on the words flowing within the room due to the ever-growing heartbeat pulsing between your thighs. Dabi’s hand sank into your leg, heat splitting between your skin enough to hiss and throw your head back.
“From this perfect pussy,” he applied pressure to the space between your legs, the wet patch inducing a smile from his once blank expesssion. The sudden contact caused a gasp to slip from your panting lips. Almost instinctively, Dabi pressed his thumb against your tongue, “to this smart ass mouth, it’s all I need to wake up in the morning.”
Your mind was now blank. All you could think about was the feelings of Dabi's heated fingertips dancing against the confining cotton of your panties. He always had the ability of doing this to you— dumbifying you with nothing but the pads of his fingertips and making you beg for his tongue.
Watching you pant under him nearly made the expressionless man shudder in pleasure. Dabi wasnt a liar, anything and everything he's ever said being some mangled up verbal example of his brain. He was far from the type to express his feelings, show anything other than smugness and oversuimulation, and dedicate his entire life to another person.
He was far from the type, yet managed to become a perfect example of a significant other who's life slowly but surely becomes solely to live for another person. The other person in this situation, was you.
You felt him begin to leave swollen burn bubbles on the outer layer of your skin, legs shaking in a way that brought the two of you out of your racing minds.
His motions stopped, yet hands showed no intention on moving from its current place. He was staring at you intensely - as intensely as he could - to assert his egotistical dominance but you knew the truth.
And as Dabi lowered your frame into the soft, plush white sheets, he realized he knew the truth as well. Your eyes were dazed, irises looking at all of him at the same time as your body swallowed in his touch and he knew. Dabi knows deep down no matter how much taller, bigger, or dominant he ever tried to be, he would worship the ground you walked on with the blink of an eye.
Your hands found his cold cheeks, tongue still stuck to your bottom lip with Dabi's harsh finger circling the pink muscle. Not a word was said, or per say, not a single word needed to be said. The energy surrounding the one-roomed apartment was enough for the two of them.
Before you, Dabi was known to be something of a martyr. He fooled women, toying with their souls the same way he toyed with their bodies and cried trauma when they threatened to leave. He kept a string on every one he ever fucked, being cautious enough to keep them at the heel of his feet for a fun time when he felt he had enough of you.
Then, he got addicted. He drowned in your drive, finding for the first time in his life some sort of comfort. Your natural warmth, your smile, your understanding— you were someone Dabi would find himself laughing at for thinking they actually existed.
"You're gonna get tired of me one day," he bitterly smiled, eyeing you deep into your skull with nothing but sadness laced in an angry distraction, "you're gonna find some hero and leave me here all on my own."
He wanted to think he wouldn't care. If the time where you decided to go back to the better things in life, leave a lowlife villain who wants to destruct the government, and live a rich healthy lifestyle, he knew you didn't do anything less but deserve it. You were too good for him, better than anyone he's ever known in his life for as long as he'd live.
With a soft whimper, your hands turned his head from his lowered expression over to your soft eyes. He hated how quick you got him to look at you, and he especially hated how quick you made his breath stop.
"Hey," you whispered, soft smile still glowing even though you realized he had intentionally lowered his voice as well as his lips from your sight. The vulnerable expression the raven-haired man was trying his hardest to not get you to see brought a rough pang to your chest.
"You crash, I crash. Always."
Your words hit him, and boy did they hit Dabi hard. The time it took for the word always to softly slip off your tongue was just enough time for Dabi to realize the depth of your words.
They were the same ones that fell between your lips when he thought he was dying, when you thought you were dying, and now. Dabi was complex - that was evident - but he was also the simplest man you knew. All he ever really needed was some reassurance.
It was long before his fingers found their way into your scalp, slipping over the crevices of your neck and gripping onto the back of your head as if his life depended on it. All you could do was gasp.
"Can I touch you?" The words were like a record scratch, repeating through the scarred man's brain all too much to keep anyone sane.
He couldn't tell if it was the slur of your words, or if it was your soft hands running across his thick shoulders as the words whispered into his ears— whatever it was made him take up the obligation of doing anything and everything you said.
It wasn't soon before you found yourself slamming your lips against his, the sensation causing you both to moan. You couldn't tell the difference between his hands and yours, tangled limbs falling deep into the plush comforter covering your shared bed. His weight above you did nothing but encourage you to wrap your bare limbs against his now shirtless one on, hands running through the raven locks above your head.
The minute you felt the heated pads of his fingertips lower themselves down your abdomen, your head shook underneath his and caused him to part his lips from its home on yours.
"Hmph," you groaned, pouting as your hands traveled down to his jeans and began to fiddle with the zipper, "I want to feel you in me now."
Dabi was used to being in control. He was used to ordering your body around, telling you what to do and how to do it. In the bedroom, Dabi made the orders. So when he parted his lips from yours and stood over your body with his scarred hands shoving his pants down his thighs, you couldn't do anything less than moan. Knowing he was taking what you said into consideration brought chills to your skin.
"You sure you're ready for this, sweetheart?" He smirked, legs coming out of the restricting jeans he wore and leaving his tall and lean frame in nothing but gray briefs.
Dabi had a lot to brag about, in the most respectful way possible.
Your hands clawed at his waistband, giggling as you pulled his body all the way back to its original position of resting above you and let the underwear go with a loud smack. Being eye to eye with someone like Dabi was scary, no point in denying that. Her there was something about it that just drove the two of you insane— and he couldn't tell if I was anything short of love.
He silenced himself, attaching his lips to yours and preoccupying a hand into pulling his briefs down just enough. And by just enough, it meant just enough to brush your clothed clit as his painfully hard cock stretched up to his stomach. You couldn’t do anything but flinch, hands reaching out to grip his thick girth and slap it across your clothed pussy.
“Let me do it.” You smiled, eyes boring into Dabi’s own blue ones. Your free hand slipped your panties to the side, his mushroom tip dancing against the rim of your wet hole and causing the two of you to release a soft groan into one another’s face.
If there was one thing Dabi would never get tired of, it would be the feeling of your velvet walls sucking his dick closer into you. Nothing short of sensation hit him the minute your hands shoved the head in, and his almost fell inlove with the view of you watching his large length disappear into your own heaven.
It was hard for you to not cum from his entrance. Even as he bottomed out, your teeth sealing a scream from leaving your throat by pressing into his shoulder, did you realize just how big Dabi was. No matter how skinny, lean, and weightless he seemed, the girth and length on Dabi’s third leg when he was stuffing himself into you never failed to surprise you. Even through the self-inflicted pain of going into this without foreplay, you knew there was nothing that would ever fill you up as amazing as Dabi does.
“Fuuuck,” you dragged out into his earlobe, tongue licking a strip of his patched skin from your bite-mark to the lobe of his pierced ears, “you’re so big.”
He couldn’t help but whimper (another thing on Dabi’s list or shit he doesn’t do but now does because of you), the feeling of your tongue circling his ear as your pussy gripped onto his fleeting cock nearly felt like too much. It didn’t help that you were moaning and whispering in his ear with nothing but pure sex laced in your words.
“You know,” he breathed out, beginning to create a routine with his hips bottoming harshly into your cervix and slowly dragging out in a timely fashion, “this is the best pussy I’ve ever had.”
He thinks it’s a compliment, but really it stirs awake the competitive bone in your body. You ignore it though like you always do, choosing to appreciate the fact that he considers you the best at atleast something.
His hand gripped onto your neck, bringing neon stars and dots of blackness to conceal your view of cerulean eyes. Nothing but the lewd sounds of Dabi pushing his dick into your wet hole filled the room, sprinkles of your whimpers and his groans mixing amongst the darkness of the apartment.
Dabi was trouble. He never felt in control of his feelings, never knew what he would want in life, and never bothered to consider living for someone other than himself. It’s moments like these with you though, that makes him realize the God he wakes up thinking about rests between the gap in the middle of your heavenly thighs. He’d killed people before, but the power you held over him was enough to make him consider killing everyone on earth if you’d ask.
You felt him begin to grow impatient, hips pounding into your frame and causing your body to jolt up and down harshly. Words couldn’t describe how amazing Dabi felt inside of you right now. His tip crushed your cervix within every thrust, and it was Dabi’s fingers that lifted your gaping face from the trance of watching him fuck into you to his own face.
“I-I cant.” You began to slip out, tears growing against your eyes as Dabi’s hot fingers began to flick your swollen clit. You swear it’s only been like ten minutes, or maybe Dabi’s huge dick pushing against your cervix was beginning to fuck you stupid. “You’re gonna’ make me cum— make me cum too fast daddy.” You cried out, fingers dragging against the stapled back as you felt Dabi purposely drag one of the piercings located on his tip across your pulsating velvet walls. It was almost too good to be true, and you couldn’t help yourself from kicking his waist over you and forcing his body underneath you. He didn’t even have the courtesy to wipe the smirk off his sweating face.
“Get to work, doll.”
You knew why he spoke to you with such condensation. You also knew exactly why his hands pressed into your ass cheeks as you found your home on top of his bare lap. His scarred torso leaned against the black bed frame, and you decided right then and there that Dabi deserved to get his brains fucked out. So you did exactly what he told you to do— you got to work.
You were wet enough to take him some more, knees straining as you finally pushed his length deep into your stomach. The silent scream that left your lips didn’t go unnoticed though, your fingers that now gripped his cheeks pressing between his lips to keep his teasing menstruations to himself. Dabi’s eyes couldn’t come off your body, and honestly he wished they never had to.
Keeping a grip on your stomach and your ass cheek, an enflamed slap brought a powerful burn across your ass cheek and caused you to jolt against his penis.
“Jesus Dabi, a-are you trying to kill me?” You weakly pleaded, and it didn’t take long for your fucked our expression to start slurring your words.
The sound of you dropping your frame onto his body filled the room, your hips rolling against your clothed clit and bringing sensation you weren’t sure if you could handle. You were trying to focus, but the feeling of Dabi heating a hand up across your ass and slowly beginning to meet your thrusts caused your brain to jumble into a mess of nothing but him.
“Fuck, baby you look so good when you start to get stupid.” He smirked, lips running against the cleavage of your bouncing breasts and lazily sucking on the moving nipple in front of him.
You wanted to fight back, and you wanted to defend yourself against him thinking you we’re starting to get stupid. You really wanted to— the only issue being that you couldn’t. You couldn’t the minute Dabi found a way to meet your thrusts and roughly tilt your neck back up towards the ceiling.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Was all you could cry out as you began to grow impatient in your lower abdomen. It just felt too good. And as if to add injury to insult, your walls began to clamp up from the feeling you knew was coming soon. Dabi paid the price.
You’d never seen his eyes get this wide, eyebrows furrowed as his mouth gaped open in shock. His eyes found its way down, the sight of your pussy gripping and swallowing his dick back in and out being something he wishes he could see all day and that’s when Dabi realizes that he is inlove with everything about you.
“It’s like your perfect pussy was made for me, baby.” He whimpered out, smirking between hooded eyes as he struggled to regain some of his consciousness. You were way too good at bouncing on his dick, and he couldn’t help but begin to meet your thrusts with more precision as he felt himself near orgasm.
“A-all for you! Always all- always all for you daddy!” You cried out, voice struggling to come out as you threw your hands against Dabi’s chest and began to bounce as if your life depends on it.
You hate doing all the work, honestly you really do dislike it. But this has been the longest Dabi has allowed you to ride him and the feeling of you literally milking his cock at your own disposal was an offer too good to ruin.
“I know it’s all for me, princess.” He whimpered out, a hand gripping the back of your neck and pulling it low enough to slam your chapped lips against his own. “Wanna know something, baby?”
The words vibrating against your own moans got lost in the sound, your headboard forcibly slamming against the wall only louder as every other thrust from you gradually grew rougher with your urge to cum. Your brain couldn’t do anything less than feverishly nod, hands slipping back onto your body and allowing Dabi to drill into you from underneath. Gasps slipped out of your parted lips with a hand gripping his black hair and the other begging to rub your own clit.
“You crash, I crash forever, right baby?” He moaned out, the words entering your ears and making you cry out with tears finally spilling down your eyes from nothing but intense pleasure.
“Fuck yes daddy, forever!” You cried out, body beginning to hunch over as you felt the pressure in your stomach compared to the way Dabi slammed into you become too much.
“Good, doll,” he moaned, pushing you so far into him, the heartbeat in your pussy was sure to be vibrating onto the veins of his dick, “so do me a favor.”
Everything happened much too fast, your dizzy state only increasing as Dabi grabbed your body harshly and tossed you back underneath him. There you were again, tossed carelessly under him with your legs trembling and pussy stuffed with all of Dabi in his glory. His lips found our ear again, licking your lobe and sucking on it right after.
“Cream all over my cock so I can stuff you up with my kids, deal?” He smirked into you, jolting into you as soon as the last word resonated on all ears.
Soon enough, he found it in himself to thrust into you like never before. You could barely breath, gasping for air as you felt your vagina began to vibrate due to stage of pleasure you were in. And just like that, your body began to run from the overstimulation of Dabi’s hot finger rubbing roughly against your clit as he drills your frame into the crevices of your mattress.
“Da-daddy I’m gonna’....” The words just couldn’t come out— he was begging to fuck you dumb.
You couldn’t feel nothing but Dabi’s dick pound into you, and if this was all you felt before you fell into a sex-coma than fuck it. It will forever and always be worth it.
It was like you were starting to see white. The feeling of one of his hands now roughly gripping your drooling expression closer to his face made you scream in pleasure, Dabi’s smirk leaving only to release a trail of saliva from his throat into the back of yours. You swallowed it with no hesitation, some of the residue slipping through your lips in a mix with your own spit as you began to drool at the feeling of his tip hitting that one spot over and over again.
And that’s when you felt it. You felt the build up, the pressure of holding back becoming too much as you belted into a mess of tears and tried to push his body off your own.
“No baby,” he roughly said, milking his cock into you even harder and rubbing pressured circles into your clit until a strong snapped within you and you saw nothing but white.
You weren’t sure if it was a sub-space you had entered, or some fucked up version of heaven people who just for their brains fucked out go, but either option felt like fair-game the minute your pussy began to squirt a mess of cum and other liquids from the space Dabi still found himself intruding. If anything boosted his confidence, it was this right here.
“Fuck yes baby, squirt for daddy,” he smirked, rubbing you harder and harder as your felt your body stiffen at the overstimulation, “fuck, you’re so hot.”
As soon as you, Dabi found himself cumming harder than he ever had, lips only being able to cry out a mantra of your name. He knew sex with you was amazing— but this was a new high he doesn’t think he’d ever went to let go of. He didn’t even have the energy to lift himself out of you, small drips of cum able to slip out of your swollen pussy making you flinch in both overstimulation and pain. The cockwarming brought chills to your arm, body sprawled underneath Dabi’s panting frame in nothing but a fucked our expression.
You felt him lift his head up, eyes glancing over your puffy closed ones and being able to do nothing more than steal a kiss from your tongue-licked lips. He knows the difference between “fucked-out” you and “genuinely-knocked-out” you, and you knew he knew the difference too. But he acted as if he didn’t.
And before Dabi could pass out on top of your sweaty and sticky frame, words he mumbled into your shoulder nearly burned into your skin. At least, just enough to make your pussy and lips twitch in nothing but contentness.
I crash, you crash. Forever and always.
Sex with Dabi was always the same— sure. It was rough, messy, and painfully over-stimulating, but it was Dabi, and it was more than enough for you.
Your mind was now blank. All you could think about was the feelings of Dabi’s heated fingertips dancing against the confining cotton of your panties. He always had the ability of doing this to you— dumbifying you with nothing but the pads of his fingertips and making you beg for his tongue.
Watching you pant under him nearly made the expressionless man shudder in pleasure. Dabi wasnt a liar, anything and everything he’s ever said being some mangled up verbal example of his brain. He was far from the type to express his feelings, show anything other than smugness and oversuimulation, and dedicate his entire life to another person.
He was far from the type, yet managed to become a perfect example of a significant other who’s life slowly but surely becomes solely to live for another person. The other person in this situation, was you.
You felt him begin to leave swollen bubbles on the outer layer of your skin, legs shaking in a way that brought the two of you out of your racing minds.
His motions stopped, yet hands showed no intention on moving from its current place. He was staring at you intensely - as intensely as he could - to assert his egotistical dominance but you knew the truth.
And as Dabi lowered your frame into the soft, plush white sheets, he realized he knew the truth as well. Your eyes were dazed, irises looking at all of him at the same time as your body swallowed in his touch and he knew. Dabi knows deep down no matter how much taller, bigger, or dominant he ever tried to be, he would worship the ground you walked on with the blink of an eye.
Your hands found his cold cheeks, tongue still stuck to your bottom lip with Dabi’s harsh finger circling the pink muscle. Not a word was said, or per say, not a single word needed to be said. The energy surrounding the one-roomed apartment was enough for the two of them.
Before you, Dabi was known to be something of a martyr. He fooled women, toying with their souls the same way he toyed with their bodies and cried trauma when they threatened to leave. He kept a string on every one he ever fucked, being cautious enough to keep them at the heel of his feet for a fun time when he felt he had enough of you.
Then, he got addicted. He drowned in your drive, finding for the first time in his life some sort of comfort. Your natural warmth, your smile, your understanding— you were someone Dabi would find himself laughing at for thinking they actually existed.
“You’re gonna get tired of me one day,” he bitterly smiled, eyeing you deep into your skull with nothing but sadness laced in an angry distraction, “you’re gonna find some hero and leave me here all on my own.”
He wanted to think he wouldn’t care. If the time where you decided to go back to the better things in life, leave a lowlife villain who wants to destruct the government, and live a rich healthy lifestyle, he knew you didn’t do anything less but deserve it. You were too good for him, better than anyone he’s ever known in his life for as long as he’d live.
With a soft whimper, your hands turned his head from his lowered expression over to your soft eyes. He hated how quick you got him to look at you, and he especially hated how quick you made his breath stop.
“Hey,” you whispered, soft smile still glowing even though you realized he had intentionally lowered his voice as well as his lips from your sight. The vulnerable expression the raven-haired man was trying his hardest to not get you to see brought a rough pang to your chest.
“You crash, I crash. Always.”
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