#people might not like or might be sick of.

[angstandhappiness]

Yeah, movie theaters are another level of immersion

idk if this is a boomer take but I think ppl should make more of an effort to go see movies in theaters bc I couldn’t bear it if the movie theater industry went down and the only way to watch movies was through streaming I’m not strong enough

[remxedmoon]

so all you need to do right now is disappear.

HHHHAPPY ISATVERSARY EVERYONE. here’s redraws for every single battle cg in the game. 36 drawings this time around, with 11 of those being custom (though admittedly a good portion of those are edits). combined with the portrait redraws i made back in september, i’ve made 114 redraws for this project! jesus christ! just like those redraws, these are completely free to use!! as long as i’m credited and it’s not for commercial purposes, go wild!! do whatever you want!!!

no i didn’t make these for isat’s 1 year anniversary this is just wildly good timing.

i genuinely can’t fit all of these cgs in one post even with the 30 image limit on browser, but i’ll still try to fit Most of them below the cut (without making this post horrifically long), along with some notes that might be important 👍

okay! once again, i labeled all of the custom art as such in the drive, but if you want a full list, the customs are hatless siffrin jackpot, bonnie jackpot, bonnie special attack, bigfrin attack, and a bunch of alts which are definitely not related to any projects i’ve been thinking about don’t worry about it. and out of those customs, only like. 3 of them are actually completely from scratch.

while i did my absolute best to keep the aspect ratios completely the same as the originals, there’s 3 exceptions that i just couldn’t get to work.

isabeau’s hair in his special attack cg wouldn’t fit in frame if i kept things completely accurate to the og, so i moved his cg down a bit. it shouldn’t cause any issues with modding or anything, it’ll just appear slightly lower than it does in game. alas…

isabeau’s sleeve and mirabelle’s hair made their jackpot sprites a little larger than the originals? i’m hoping this doesn’t have too much of an effect (since the jackpot sprites have inconsistent sizes) but i can’t test this myself unfortunately. aaa feel free to let me know on discord if any problems arise!!

i managed to fix these, so they aren’t going to cause problems now, but my original drawings for mirabelle and siffrin in the final attack scene were a pain in the ass to fix. mirabelle’s sprite was slightly too talk to fit in frame and siffrin’s hat whacked bonnie in the face while i was editing everyone together. i’m only mentioning this because it took like an hour and a half to fix them and finish the scene.

all that aside, these were a fucking BLAST to work on. apparently this ended up taking 57 hours over exactly 10 days. which is a little worrying if you do the math on that but somehow i have not burnt myself out. i will be doing enemies at some point!!! but probably not for a little bit. i think my friends will actually kill me if i don’t take a break.

once again, happy birthday isat. you’ve ruined my life and i wouldn’t have it any other way (silly).

also, on an actual serious note, this little timeloop game has genuinely changed my life for the better? you guys are probably sick of hearing it at this point (or maybe not, i don’t talk about myself That Much. i hope), but i was practically a ghost for about 2 years before joining this fandom. it’s a little surreal to suddenly have friends (plural!!!) and people who Care about me, or even know i exist, honestly. it’s weird!! in a good way!!!

i don’t think i would’ve ever come back to social media if this community wasn’t so welcoming. i’ve met a lot of really great people through this game!!! so, uh, thank you isat, i guess. here’s to another year.

[bangtan-junkie]

Dissonance (Part 1) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)

Genre/Tags: coworker!JK, enemies to lovers, smutttttt, slow burn (ish?), ANGST

Word Count: 5744 words

Synopsis:

Your coworker, Jungkook, got on your nerves. While everyone saw him as sweet and charming, you saw his true (annoying) colours that lay beneath. It was no secret that you hated him. No one knew that more than him. But a night out, drinks in your system, and a girl flirting with Jungkook in front of you might bring up some uglier feelings and be Jungkook's last straw.

Note:

lol sorry I'm not great with synopses. but yeah this is rly just angst and filth enjoyyy. part 2 soon hopefully. also would love requests or feedback so lmk

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as Jungkook spoke. Jungkook was a newer employee and the whole office knew you didn't like him one bit. He was a kiss-ass and there was nothing you hated more than a kiss-ass. Not only was he a kiss-ass, he was also annoyingly good looking which only made people like him more. While you were busy busting your ass for work and cleaning up after other peoples' mess, he was able to get anyone to do whatever he wanted with a flash of his smile. To top it all off, nearly every woman in your office threw themselves at him - even the senior ladies. You couldn't stand it. Watching them twirling their hair, putting a hand on his chest as they laughed at his every word, it made you sick. What was worse was watching him flirt back - seeing him check them out, grab them by the waist, or whisper in their ears. Everything about him made your blood boil and you refused to give him an easy time like everyone else.

Jungkook was fully aware of your disdain for him. He didn’t miss how your eyes rolled when he walked into the room, or how you avoided him like he was the plague. He paid no attention to it at first, trying his best to charm you as he did with your peers. But every smile, joke, or conversation was shut down. He thought it wouldn’t bother him, but with each passing day, every scowl, every eye roll, and every glare, he felt his irritation growing. But he refused to give you the satisfaction of knowing that he cared about your opinion. Instead, he tried his best to show you that you had no affect on him at all. With every insult you threw at him, he turned it around and threw a cheeky, flirty comment back at you. He only did it because he knew it would piss you off even more. As amusing as it was, his frustration was building up as you pushed his buttons.

Unfortunately for the both of you, you shared a social circle at work because you were in the same department. As if you didn't get enough of each other at work, you were occasionally forced into seeing each other outside of work when your coworkers decided to go out. Tonight was one of those cursed nights as your group agreed to go out for drinks after work. So you sat at the end of the booth, downing your drinks faster than you probably should, watching one of the girls attempt to seduce Jungkook in the booth. You tried to focus on the conversation happening on the other side of you but found your mind wandering back to the two of them. She was practically in his lap by this point and had unbuttoned a few buttons of her top. Jungkook's arm was snaked around her waist while his other hand lingered along the hem of her skirt. You downed your next drink, trying to drown the burning sensation you felt in your chest. It was certainly drowning your common sense in the process, your head already beginning to feel fuzzy. The girl was asking stupid questions and resorting to plain flattery in an attempt to flirt. Your already bad mood from work combined with the drinks you were powering through was quickly worsening your mood and making you more bold.

"You're so sweet," she giggled, "No wonder everyone likes you over in your department."

"Not everyone," you mumbled under your breath with a roll of your eyes. Jungkook rolled his own eyes and ignored you but the girl looked over at you confused.

"Sorry?" She asked.

"Don't be. I was just agreeing with you. Jungkook is soooooooo sweet," you mocked, looking directly at him. She gave you a strange look and turned back to him.

"Looks like you're famous with all the ladies," she smiled, playing with his tie.

"Oh you have no idea," you laughed to yourself. Jungkook closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself down and avoid reacting. "His reputation exceeds him," you giggle. This time she gave you a dirty look and ignored you.

"Too bad you're not in our department. You'd be a sight for sore eyes," she raked her eyes over him and winked.

"That's about all he's useful for, you should take him really," you grumbled. That was Jungkook's last straw. He finally turned to you, acknowledging your existence.

"Are you serious right now?" He glared. Your stomach flipped as you finally got a good look at him - tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, and fury swimming in his eyes. Yeah, the alcohol is definitely getting to me - you thought to yourself. You just shrugged in response.

“Get up. Now,” Jungkook demanded, voice low. You rolled your eyes but complied and slid off your chair as Jungkook slid out of the booth. As soon as you were up, you were being dragged away with a tight grip on your wrist, . He took you to the far corner of the bar, out of sight from the booth everyone was at. You rubbed your wrist in pain when let go of you.

“What are you doing?” He asked. You noticed the tick in his jaw as he clenched it. It made his jawline look even sharper. Dragging your gaze away from his jaw back to his eyes, you gave him a questioning look. “Don’t play fucking dumb right now,” he belittled. Your stomach dropped at the insult.

“I know you’re celibate, but I’m trying to take this girl home and fuck her brains out,” he sneered.

You gulped. Something about this Jungkook was doing something to you. He never got angry with you. He always had a witty remark for every insult you threw his way. Seeing him like this was different; it was more real than his cocky facade. His brows were furrowed and he was glaring at you like he wanted to grab you by the neck. Fuck he looks so hot. Normally you would never let yourself think that, but the alcohol swirling in you was clouding your judgment. Fortunately, you were still sober enough to hide your lustful gaze.

“I’m trying to save the girl from a night of disappointment and misery,” you snickered. Your answer only seemed to anger him more. He stepped forward and you took a step back. His annoyance was written all over his face. A few more steps and he’d backed you against a wall and caged you in with a hand placed next to your face. You had never been so close to Jungkook before. Was he always this handsome? You could only stare up at him and hope he didn’t notice how turned on you were.

“We both know you don’t believe that,” he said, leaning down, his face way too close to yours. “You think I’m such a man whore right? Surely you don’t think I have these women coming back just for my pretty face?” He mocked you. You felt your face flush. “Then what is it? Why are you cockblocking me?”

You weren’t completely sure why you were acting the way you were. Watching that girl press up so close to him, whisper in his ear, laugh at his every work - it made you sick. Yet you couldn’t look away, you watched as he flirted so shamelessly and your stomach swirled with disgust.

“She’s fucking stupid. She fell for you. Really I’m doing her a favour.”

“Why do you care Y/n? Just because you don’t want me, doesn’t mean other people don’t.”

“Because they look so dumb fawning over you,” your gaze was hazy, “all they see is how ha-,” your eyes trailed down to his pretty lips, having the little sense to cut yourself off before saying what you were going to say. “They’re always the same; flipping their hair, laughing at your dumb jokes, climbing into your lap. And you eat it up every time.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed for a moment before he scoffed.

“What, are you jealous sweetheart?” He joked dryly. “Wish it was you instead?” He asked, trying to annoy you and fully expecting you to get angry. Turns out, it worked. Something fiery and ugly crawled through your veins as the words left his mouth, making you feel hot. You couldn’t face what the feeling was - just knowing Jungkook was making you feel something so dark was enough to stop your train of thought. You refused to become one of those girls...you couldn't.

“You know what? Never mind, you guys are perfect for each other,” you mumbled while quickly slipping under his arms. The possibility of you being jealous was sobering. It cleared your mind enough to know you should get back to the table. Enough to see how dangerously close to disaster you were. But just as you made it a foot past him, he pulled you back, pressing your back against the wall. His gaze was different now - dark and piercing. It held you captive, like a deer caught in headlights. You couldn’t look away and neither could you pull out of the tight grip he had on your arm.

“What, that’s it? Not even gonna give me shit for that?” He questioned. The words were meant to be teasing but instead they sounded angry, nearly spiteful. His mind was racing as he put the whole picture together but refused to believe it. Embarrassment replaced the ugly feeling clawing up your throat, making your body burn up. His gaze became too intense and you had to look away. But he was not going to make this easy for you. He grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him as he patiently waited for you to say something, to deny what he was thinking. This was a whole new side of him that you were seeing for the first time. What was worse was that some part of you liked it. Your embarrassment reached a new height as the tension grew thicker between you. You wanted to scream, to run, to get as far away from Jungkook as you could - anything but admit this new found truth. Tears threatened to wallow in your eyes as the unease began eating you alive. But you forced them back, refusing to embarrass yourself any further. After several moments of silence from you, Jungkook let go of your jaw and scoffed in disbelief.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he uttered, bewildered, before hanging his head. The short moment gave you reprieve, a second to breathe again now that he wasn’t looking into your soul. Your mouth opened to say something, anything to redeem yourself, but shut when you couldn’t think of anything. Then Jungkook was chuckling, which turned into a laugh that made his shoulders shake. It wasn’t a joyous laughter. No, it was mocking, cruel.

“This whole time,” he started, his laughter dying down as he looked at you again, “I thought there was an actual reason you hated me.” He straightened his back, now towering above you, and moved closer. He was looking at you like he was going to eat you alive. You quickly avoided his gaze, choosing to stare straight ahead at his chest instead. One of his hands came up to tangle in your hair before he yanked it, forcing you to look at him again. You couldn’t help the moan that left your lips as he pulled your hair. It only fueled that hunger in his eyes.

“All this time, you just needed to be stuffed full of cock huh? Needed me to fuck the attitude out of you?”

The words immediately sent a rush of arousal to your core, leaving you breathless. If it wasn't for the little bit of pride left in you, you would've jumped him. Jungkook watched as your eyes filled with lust and anger as you steeled your resolve. He quickly glanced around to see if any of your coworkers were nearby before grabbing your wrist and dragging you into the washroom. All you heard was the door locking before you were pinned to the wall.

“Come on Y/n, I wanna hear you say it. Tell me you're jealous. Tell me you want to be in my bed instead of her,” he growled, getting more bold by the second. You gulped, struggling to contain your reactions.

"Shut up," you spat out, finally finding your voice. "Go fuck her for all I care." You gave him the best glare you could muster up. Jungkook's eyes lit up with the challenge you presented, but the dark glint in them made you nervous. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand.

"If you're gonna lie, at least do it well," he taunted, his breath hitting your lips.

"I don't care what you do Jungkook. Just let me go" you whined, straining your wrists in his grip. He only tightened his hold on you, hiking your wrists further up the wall and forcing you on your tippy toes. His sheer strength was slightly jarring as you were left helpless in his grip.

"Yeah?," he scoffed, "then maybe I should go back out there and pick up where I left off." You felt your stomach drop at his suggestion. Some part of you deep down wanted more. But an even bigger part of you couldn't stand the thought of enduring more of him flirting with that girl.

"She's a bold one, you know? She kept pushing my hand up her thigh, closer to where she really wanted it," he teased, voice low.

His hand trailed along your waist, over your hips, then down your thigh. Your breath hitched at the gentle touch. His fingers brushed along the hem of your skirt, which suddenly felt too short. You couldn't seem to peel your eyes away from his tattooed fingers that threatened to slip under your skirt. Your heart pounded in your chest as thoughts of what else his hands could do flashed through your mind. Taking advantage of your silence, he continued.

"She's filthy, she would've let me touch her pussy right there at the table," he groaned. "Could've had her riding my fingers in front of everyone, trying her best to stay quiet." You shot him a glare, finding the thought repulsive - unless it was you he was touching of course. "Would you rather I leave you here and go do that?"

"Fuck you," you answered with a little too much anger and disgust. It was obvious that you cared, and you hated that. Jungkook raised a brow, a satisfied smirk dawning his lips.

"I'll take that as a no," he mused, fingertips dipping under your skirt, ghosting over the inside of your thigh. You let out a shaky breath.

"I didn't...I mean...," you stumbled over your words, trying to find an excuse. You didn't want him to have the upper hand. It hurt your ego.

"Come on, use your words Y/n. Tell me why you don't want me to go," he patronized, waiting to hear your answer. His fingers continued to trail upwards, making you fluster more. You ignored his request, hyperaware of his touch. If he moved his fingers any further up, he'd be able to feel your arousal and the thought was mortifying. He'd never let you live it down.

"Jungkook," you gasped, getting higher on your tippy toes in an attempt to get his fingers a little further away.

"Yes?" He answered, intrigued by the sudden flustered expression on your face.

"Don't...your fingers," you managed to say, squirming under him.

"What about them?" He asked, stilling their movement but dug them into the flesh of your inner thigh. You closed your eyes and muttered a prayer under your breath.

"This isn't appropriate.." you said shakily, staring at the his hand disappeared under your skirt. He scoffed at your words.

"Not appropriate?" he chuckled. "You know what else is inappropriate? The constant belittling and insults you throw my way." The amusement dissipated from his voice. "The way you humiliate me in front of everyone is inappropriate Y/n," his words pierced you. The internal battle between guilt and arousal you were feeling left your head fuzzy.

"Listen, I'm sorr-" you started, genuinely wanting to apologize, seeing how upset he was. But he cut you off, not wanting to hear your apology.

"And what's especially inappropriate is the way you're looking at me right now," he growled. A rush of arousal flowed through you as he called you out. "It's inappropriate how your eyes are begging me to touch you."

The breath was knocked out of you as he pointed out everything that you thought he hadn't noticed. "I bet if I touched you right now, you'd be fucking soaked," he said, voice low.

"Jungkook please," you said breathlessly, begging him to stop speaking as your legs threatened to give out under you.

"Please what?" he asked, forcing you to spell it out for him.

"Please...I can't.." you whimpered. The sound made him groan.

"You can't?" he questioned, "Can't take it anymore?" Your eyes threatened to tear up again. "Want me to stop? Or do you want me to touch you?"

You took a second to think about it, calming your overwhelmed nerves. Were you actually going to give in to your desires? Was it worth the never ending humiliation and mockery you'd face after? You took one look at his hungry eyes and decided - fuck it.

"Touch me," you finally said, heart racing. His eyes darkened and he wasted no time in obliging. He quickly hiked your skirt up to your hips, his fingers slipping between your clothed folds. All thoughts escaped your mind as Jungkook finally touched you where you wanted.

"Fuck, you really are soaked - for me," he growled. You had half the mind to remind him that he was also clearly enjoying himself. But your eyes fluttered shut and the words transformed into a moan as his fingers rubbed over your clit again. Pleasure coursed through your body, the tension between you two only adding to the fire between your legs. "I turn you on that much?"

You could only huff in response, too focused on the pleasure. His fingers slid down, rubbing through your wetness. Then he stopped. You groaned at the loss, opening your eyes to shoot him a glare. You were met with Jungkook's dark, lustful gaze. His eyes scanned your features hungrily, catching on your lips before stopping at your eyes. The look on your face was one he was used to. The look of anger, frustration, borderline hate. Usually he despised it, but in that moment he savoured it. This time, it was mixed with desperation - desire. It made him proud that he was able to push you to this point.

"Are you kidding me?" you asked, clearly annoyed.

"So cute how you think you'll get your way every time," he mumbled, a devilish smirk resting on his lips. "You know what one of the first things I noticed about you was? How you weren't afraid to speak your mind." It felt strange to hear Jungkook complimenting you like this, but you still felt like this was a trap. "Obviously, back then I didn't know that I'd grow to hate it," he chuckled. You rolled your eyes.

"But I want you to speak your mind now. You've always said every terrible thing you thought about me. So tell me what you're thinking about me now Y/n," he said, eyes staring into your soul like he knew every filthy thought that was running through your mind. He moved closer, his lips grazing against your ear as he whispered, "Still thinking of how much you hate me?"

"No," you answered, wanting him to get on with it.

"What are you thinking then?" Every inch of you screamed at you not to answer. But you knew there was only one way out of this. Jungkook wanted the truth, he wanted to hear you say it.

"I'm thinking about your hands, your fingers," you said softly, grateful that he had his face buried in your neck so that you didn't have to look him in the eye.

"What about 'em?" His breathing was ragged against your skin, like he couldn't wait to finally hear the words.

"Thinking about how good they look on my legs," you admitted, heart racing. Jungkook didn't answer, only taking a sharp breath in. A few more seconds of silence and you gulped, deciding to take the leap.

"Thinking about how big your hands are. And how good your fingers would feel inside of me," you said, gasping as his fingers resumed their ministrations. Jungkook pulled his head back, finally looking at you again, a dark lust painted across his features.

"Thinking about cumming on your fingers and your cock," you said, your eyes fluttering shut as pleasure worked its way through your body again. "Thinking about how much I hate that you're making me feel this way."

Jungkook cursed under his breath, making you open your eyes.

"Why?" The question was simple, but it felt heavy. His eyes bore into your; anger, lust, and focus swirling around in them.

"I don't wanna be one of those girls," you answered, voice barely above a whisper. A cold look washed over his face for a brief moment.

"How does it feel then? You're here, soaked and begging me to touch you. About to cum on my fingers. I'm the one making you feel this good," he growled, fingers picking up their pace. "Are you angry? Disgusted?"

His fingers had you hurtling towards the edge, leaving your mind hazy. You barely processed his question as the pressure built up in your core again. All you could do was moan his name as you quickly reached your climax. But then his fingers were gone, leaving you crashing. There was a moment of silence as disbelief and anger coursed through you. When you looked back at him, his expression seemed colder.

“What the fuck Jungkook?!” you nearly shouted when you finally came back to your senses. “I was so close!” you grit through your teeth.

“Oh were you?” Jungkook mocked, observing your angered reaction.

“I should’ve known. Of course you’re a selfish douchebag in bed too,” you spat. A smirk formed on his lips as he raised a brow at your words.

“It’s bewildering that those girls come back when you can’t even get them off once. I guess it is just for your pretty face,” you sneered, wanting him to him to be equally as pissed of as you. He let go of your wrists and buried a hand in your hair before yanking it back. You yelped at the harsh tug that forced your head back, exposing your neck to him.

“God you really just keep running your mouth, don’t ya?” He growled. “A few more seconds and we both know you would’ve creamed your panties.” You gulped at his words, unable to deny them.

“But only good girls get to cum,” he whispered, his hot breath on your ear sending shivers down your spine. He let go of your hair, putting a little space between you two. “You think you deserve to cum?” He asked.

“After months of being an asshole to me, never listening to anything I said, treating me like an idiot? All because you wanted my cock stuffed in your tight pussy.” The anger swirling in his eyes only turned you on more.

“Did you really think I’d give you what you wanted so easily Y/n?” he mocked. “After all that, did you think I’d let you have your way? Maybe finally fuck you how you’ve wanted? Have you screaming my name, squirting all over my cock, over and over again?” While his words added to the arousal between your legs, his tone left you humiliated. You could feel your face getting hotter.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to mutter while staring at the floor. Jungkook chuckled darkly before grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him.

“Oh baby, no. Sorry won’t cut it. If you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna have to earn it,” he growled, staring right into your eyes.

Then he let go of your jaw. He was angry with you, so angry. But watching you beg, cry his name, submit to him made his cock impossibly hard. As he fumbled with his belt and pants, you understood what he wanted. Without a second thought, you dropped to your knees before him. Jungkook cursed under his breath at the way you looked up at him. You reached forward to help him as he shakily unzipped his pants, but he merely brushed your hands away. You waited patiently, your heart racing in anticipation of finally seeing his cock. Relief spread across his face when he finally pulled his aching cock out of its confines. You licked your lips at the sight. Jungkook’s hand squeezed at the base as he slapped your cheek with his cock.

“Open,” he demanded. You obeyed, opening your mouth and letting your tongue out. Jungkook slapped his heavy cock on your tongue, groaning as you looked up at him. His cock twitched against your tongue as he admired the lewd image in front of him. You swirled your tongue around the tip before closing your lips around it. Jungkook grunted, still looking at you with dark eyes. But he refused to move, leaving you to do all the work for now. So, you slowly sunk your mouth down on his cock, brushing his hands away from the base. When you’d finally sunk all the way down, your nose brushing against his pelvis, Jungkook’s head rolled back and he let out a heavy sigh that sounded suspiciously like a whimper. Seeing him crumble under your touch boosted your pride and ego. Feeling like you finally had some power in this situation, you decided to go further, just to pull more of those cute whimpers out of him. You pulled back before sinking down on him again, letting his cock hit the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck, he moaned, his hands flying to the back of your head to grab your hair. You repeated the action two more times, pulling a string of curses and moans from his lips that hit your ears like music. Just as you were pulling your head back for another time, Jungkook’s hands pushed your head forward, thrusting his own hips so his cock was buried deep in your throat. The action caught you off guard, your hands coming up to hold his thighs, attempting to stabilize yourself. Your throat burned at the abrupt intrusion and you felt tears beginning to well in your eyes as he held you there. But the look of pleasure etched on his face and the pretty moans leaving his lips were incentive enough for you to stay there. You tried your best to focus on breathing through your nose as he buried his cock as deep as he could.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. “Who knew your mouth felt this fucking good?” He asked rhetorically, his voice low and hoarse, finally opening his eyes. Seeing you looking up at him with his cock stuffed down your throat, tears streaming down your face, and trying your best to nod to his question proved to be overwhelming for Jungkook. He felt like he could cum right there and then. With a growl, he yanked you off his cock, finally giving you a chance to breathe. You coughed as you tried to catch your breath, trying to wipe away your tears and the saliva dripping down your chin. He had to look away from you for a moment or he thought he’d go crazy. So he slowly stroked his cock, letting his head roll back, as you caught your breath.

You breathed heavily, unable to do anything but look up at him in a haze. As soon as you caught your breath, you wrapped your lips around his cock again. Jungkook looked at you through hooded eyes as you eagerly sank down on his cock again. He didn’t even give you a second to readjust, a hand fisting your hair as his hips snapped forward. He set a rough pace, leaving your throat feeling raw already. You could feel his anger and frustration with every thrust.

“Fuck, I should’ve just done this,” he growled. “Every time you ran your mouth, should’ve just stuffed it with cock. Bet you would’ve loved that,” he grunted, quickly getting close to the edge. You whimpered softly around him, unsure if you were agreeing or not. “Such a fucking slut,” he groaned, punctuating the words with harsh thrusts. His movements were getting rougher and sloppier as he hurtled closer to the edge. You held onto his thighs for support, letting him use your mouth.

“Fuck I’m getting close,” he groaned. He cursed under his breath seeing the anticipation in your eyes. He quickly yanked your head back and stroked his cock quickly. “Fucking hell, you know how bad I wanna cum all over your face? Let everyone at the table see what a fucking cockslut you are for me?” He groaned, his hand moving quickly. You stared up at him, burning the sight into your mind.

“Don’t care, just want your cum,” you gasped, still catching your breath. That was all Jungkook needed to hear to completely lose himself.

He quickly buried his cock in your mouth again as he came. Curses and moans spilled from his lips, his hot cum shooting down your throat. You could see his adam’s apple move with every groan and it was driving you crazy. There was no doubt that you were soaking wet and you ached to be filled up. Your tongue soothed his cock, coaxing him to give you more. Even after he finished, he kept himself buried in your mouth, savouring the feeling. After a few moments, he finally pulled away. His gaze was piercing as he tucked himself back into his pants, straightening himself up. You finally stood up again, brushing at your aching knees. Your heart was pounding in your ears at the anticipation of what was going to come. After all, you’d definitely been good to him. Jungkook looked at your sloppy appearance and smiled sadistically.

“Who knew you were such a filthy slut?” He taunted, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Sucking dick in a public bathroom so desperately,” he mocked. His tone made your stomach drop. Your heart continued racing with excitement and unease. He leaned in closer. “Should be enough dick to get you through the next week without being a bitch to me, right?”

You couldn’t hide the wince at his words. The spite in his voice stung. Sure he was degrading you before, but this time he sounded like he meant it. He stepped back from you, looking over you without a hint of warmth. “Might wanna clean up before you come back out,” he said nonchalantly, unlocking the bathroom door. “Wouldn’t want everyone to know that you had my cock down your throat,” he said coldly. Then he was out the door, leaving you a mess, alone in the bathroom. You couldn’t move for a few moments, still trying to process what had just happened. You’d never seen him that angry and bitter before. You couldn’t believe that he’d just left you to clean yourself up after all that. The only thing that snapped you out of your thoughts was the thought of someone walking in on you like this. You finally moved to lock the door again.

“What the fuck,” you sighed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You shot yourself a dirty look, seeing the state you were in. You felt humiliated. As you fixed yourself up, you mentally cursed yourself for letting your guard down around Jungkook. You should’ve known that he would act like a dick. Underneath that charming exterior, he was downright awful. Of course he would insult and humiliate you after getting what he wanted. You could feel the anger bubble up in your chest, threatening to make you march back to the table and yell at him in front of everyone. But you knew you couldn’t. You’d be exposing yourself in that process and the last thing you wanted people to know was that you gave in to Jungkook. You couldn’t be seen as one of those stupid girls that were chasing him all the time. You weren’t one of them. Taking a deep breath to calm down, you took one last look in the mirror. After making sure you looked decent again, you finally stepped out of the bathroom.

As you walked back to the table, an obnoxious, high pitched laugh made your stomach churn with dread. Jungkook sat there, his arm draped over the booth behind the same girl from before, smirking as he spoke to her. She was leaning in so close that any movement would have their lips touching. You felt sick when he whispered in her ear, chuckling at whatever she responded with. You could’ve thrown up right there and then, your blood running cold. There was no way in hell you were gonna sit there and watch him act like this after everything that happened. As soon as you got to the table, you grabbed your bag and jacket, refusing to look at the two of them.

“Hey, Y/n are you leaving?” someone asked. You couldn’t even tell who was talking, too busy trying to escape this hell. “Yeah, feeling kinda sick,” you mumbled, already turning on your heels. You heard some ‘goodbye’s and ‘feel better’s from behind you but you just hastily waved without turning around. When you finally got into the cold night, the air felt like a slap to your face. It smacked some sense back into you. Your mind reeled with the events of the night and you wondered what you could’ve possibly been thinking. You just started speed walking, nearly sprinting, towards the subway, desperate to get home and wash the filth and disgust that caked your skin and clawed at your insides.

[reignpage]

Just a Quick Stop

You had prepared yourself for the goodbyes. 

Practiced a lot in front of the bathroom mirror; smiling when you say ‘we had a great run’, swallowing the tears when you shake hands, and ignoring the warmth from his palm and the comforting callouses you had long mapped out. 

It wouldn’t be too hard, right?

Because you had known there would be an end to your relationship from the very beginning, hell, he told you himself that this wasn’t anything serious. And you thought you knew what that meant, after all this is the modern era, loads of people have flings, so you shrugged his stern tone off and undressed once more, revelling in the euphoria only he could give you. 

But what do girls know of the world?

What did you know, at that age? About being in a man’s world? Of keeping things casual and plainly sexual?

It wasn’t your fault, strictly speaking. He’s older, he should have known better than to say one thing and then do another. Should have never let the lines blur from quick fucks to long aftercare, messy make-outs to reassuring kisses, and from throat grabbing to hand holding. 

He should have never bought groceries, refilled your car, made you soup when you were sick, and he definitely should not have let you introduce him to your friends. 

But he did. 

He did all those things and more. 

And your fridge was never empty, you haven’t been anywhere near a gas station, not been sick on your own, and your friends absolutely love him. 

Why is it so easy to let someone in your life and so damn hard to let them go?

It can’t be because you didn’t know you would have to, because you did. It was one of those late-night thoughts that kept you awake and paranoid, made you anxious when you didn’t wake up in his arms. It also can’t be because he was just so easy to let in?

No, he was towering and clumsy, unused to the plush carpets and shiny hardwood floors. You had to weave around his frame to get to the kitchen, and pick up his dirty socks, tell him off for leaving the toilet seat up, or placing the cereal boxes a shelf too high. 

Eventually, however, you learned to time his steps with yours, warned him before he could even remove them, knew well enough to always pull down the seat even in the dark, and ask for his help in the mornings. 

You made room for him. 

But he never did the same for you. 

That much is clear now, as you stay in the hallway, sitting criss-crossed, watching the door. 

You knew something was off when you came back home — there was the faint smell of bleach lingering in the air, and when you wandered further in, you noticed the dishes were washed and stacked, the carpet fluffy, the cushions plump, and fresh flowers were in the vase.

Your heart knew before your mind did. 

The socks were gone, the toilet seat down, and you didn’t even dare to look at the cereal boxes, could only stumble back to the front door, gawk at the empty spaces between pairs of shoes, clutching your chest like it might just cave in. 

One thing is on your mind, as you stay sitting in the dark. 

You wish you had gotten to use your well-thought speech, had gotten to practice your acting a little more, tested it on a real audience, the real audience, or been the mature one and reached in for a hug like it meant nothing. 

But you can’t.

Because he’s gone.

And Toji didn't even say goodbye.

[sillylotrpolls]

No surprises here. Everyone loves Sam, and "There's some good in this world..." is everyone's favorite quote by Sam. No wonder it took first place with 20.5%, and was probably all over your dash in motivational poster fashion besides.

"I wish it need not have happened..." came in second at 15.8%, which A) legit, I am also exhausted, and B) is actually indicative of the overall hope present here on Tumblr.

If you combine all the non-hopeful options, you get 15.8% + 7.8% + 1.8% + 14.2% = 39.6%. That's nowhere near a majority, and if we remove the votes by people sick of the quotes entirely, is only 29.6% of the total (15.8+7.8+1.8 / 100-14.2). Less than a third! Galadriel was absolutely right; hope does indeed remain.

If you take the time to peruse the ~1900 replies and comments (which, good lord, that's a lot for this blog), you can find many more messages of such hope, plus thankfulness for Tolkien and suggested quotes that didn't make it into the poll. Two of my favorites:

@thevillainofthisstory #i will be a healer and love all things that grow and are not barren#let us cross the River and in happier days let us dwell in fair Ithilien and there make a garden

@cleanfreakandshittyglasses #in place of a dark lord..you wOULD HAVE A QUEEN#not dark but beautiful and terrible as the dawn!!!#treacherous as the seas!!!#stronger than the foundations of the earthhh!!!#all shall love me and despairrrrr….

Not gonna lie, that second one hits especially hard given, you know. The possibilities. First woman US president when?

Last, I want to get into the performance of "If I see one more quote..." This option started at around ~10% of the vote, climbed to ~12% by day four, and eventually finished at 14.2%. That might not seem like a big difference, but as you may know if you pay any attention to the aftermath of an election, it's quite difficult to make up ground as votes are counted. A detailed explanation of how this works is under the cut below.

Let's say Blorbo and Shitto are both running for Mayor of the Shire. It's election day and the votes are being counted. When 1000 votes have been counted, Blorbo has 60% of the vote, because this is convenient math land (home of the friction-less plane and spherical cow!). Shitto has 40%, because in this example there are no third parties and no one left their ballot blank or filled in two bubbles or anything else.

Let's also say that 3000 votes total were cast in the election. It's the end of the day and the polls are closed, so the total number of votes is known. It's only the contents of those votes that's still being tallied.

The timeline then looks like this:

Zero votes counted Blorbo needs 1501 votes to win (50% + 1) Shitto needs 1501 votes to win (50% + 1)

Local hobbit reporters are hanging around polling places and doing exit interviews, but nothing is yet known.

1,000 votes counted Blorbo: 600 votes (60%) Shitto: 400 votes (40%)

Blorbo needs 901 more votes to win, ~45% of the remaining votes Shitto needs 1101 more votes to win, ~55% of the remaining votes

Shitto's campaign manager says "It doesn't matter; the votes from Buckland aren't even in yet!"

2,000 votes counted Blorbo: +500 = 1100 votes (55%) Shitto: +500 = 900 votes (45%)

Blorbo needs 401 more votes to win, ~40% of the remaining votes Shitto needs 601 more votes to win, ~60% of the remaining votes

Shitto's campaign manager says "We're trending in the right direction!"

All 3,000 votes counted Blorbo: +450 = 1550 votes (~52%) - WINNER Shitto: +550 = 1450 votes (~48%)

Shitto's campaign manager sends out text messages asking for donations to pay for a recount (that, mathematically, is extremely unlikely to succeed).

As you can see, once you have a deficit, it's extra-hard to gain ground in an election (or tumblr poll) where what matters is not the number of votes but the percentage of votes gotten. Given infinite time and votes, Shitto could potentially have pulled out the win, but there was a very finite number of votes cast with a very specific deadline.

Similarly, Tumblr polls may not have a cap on votes, but they do run for a limited amount of time. And when you reblog a poll for "awareness" or a "bigger sample size" or to try and propagandize in favor of your favorite, yes, you might get more votes for your preferred choice, but at the same time votes are still coming in for the other option(s).

Anyway, given the large number of votes (for one of my polls) and the clear pro-Tolkien leanings of most voters (who were also the most likely to see this poll), not to mention the 12-way race, it's actually very impressive that "If I see one more 'inspirational' Tolkien quote on my dash today I might hurl" made up as much ground as it did.

However - and this was not intentional, but you better believe I'm gonna remember it - at least some people who voted that they were sick of the quotes still reblogged the poll. They did so with a comment or tags that indicated their irritation, but - they still reblogged and shared the poll, spreading the inspirational quotes they themsleves were so sick of.

When I create poll options, I usually try to cover as many bases as I can (unless it's funnier not to). Frequently, I'll throw in an "other" as a catch-all. This is because I'm trying to capture the electorate (so to speak) as best I can and am genuinely interested in the results and what voters think. But, if I simply wanted a poll to spread as far as possible because I had delusions about the advantages of going "viral" on tumblr, there's clearly a case to be made for including an option that boils down to "actually, I hate this poll and everything about it." A hate reblog is still a reblog, after all.

Use this information as you will.

[morgluvsconnie]

armin being overly protective of you,

around his friends and your friends, it really doesn’t matter, he’s overprotective.

walking at the store together, you’re always always in front of him, and if not, right beside him holding his hand.

he knows the sidewalk rule, no matter where you two are, he always makes sure you’re on the safest side. and dare a man stare at you.

“problem?” you’d hear his voice from behind you, grabbing meat from the freezer. “hm?” you hummed softly, looking close at the food you picked up.

“‘scuse me?” you heard another voice.

“you lookin at my girlfriend. you got a problem?” armin questioned whatever man he was talking to.

finally taking your eyes off of the meat and tossing it in the cart, you pat arms chest, “okay, come on, he’s just looking.”

and you’d have to do exactly that. multiple times out of the week.

armin always said it was because you were “too sexy” or “a sight for sore eyes and stuff” and what could you say? you were. but you’d have to remind him, “armin, girls look at you all the time, and i don’t say a thing.”

“okay that’s you.” he’d look away to avoid further conversation, when equaled up to avoiding being wrong.

gas stations, you always had to go inside with him, or facetime him while he walked in the station to pay for gas.

he just had to keep his eyes on you at all times.

“you don’t know what people got goin around here.” he squinted through the window of the drivers side. you rolled your eyes with a small smile.

it was the same for when you were home by yourself, he’d text you every 10-15 minutes to make sure you’re okay.

and a nap? that isn’t an option unless you’re on the phone with him. with the camera on you, just to make sure nothing happens.

armin, it’s just a nap.

call me

why do u gotta be like… this?🤦🏾‍♀️

loving? caring? ik, now call me be4 i get mad.

smoking blunts? you couldn’t hit it until he did twice, just to make sure it’s safe.

getting sick around him? that would be the end of going out, because “you ain’t gon do nothing but get worse, so you might as well stay with me.”

drinking? he had to try it first, even if he hated it.

at the club? don’t even get him started. watching your cup at all times, watching you at all times. and if you had to pee?

“you sure you wanna go in there by yourself? you don’t know who in there.”

like i said, daily routine, if not weekly.

but simply,

he does it out of love because “i care about you, duh.”

-

first day out, hi, this might be trash ✊🏾🥹 spare me.

[illbegottenfaith]

lucky pt 2 - theo nott x reader

after the Felix Felicis incident, your relationship with theo has dramatically changed, for better and for worse

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

a/n - by popular demand! rip my title tho the best alternative I could come up with was ‘feminine ass-kicking’ but idk if that’s too out there. also I’ve started part 3 too! (which should be the final part) this was kind of inspired by gilmore girls season 6 :)

tropes/warnings - academic rivals to lovers, angst, slow burn, miscommunication

word count - 2.1k

The Felix Felicis incident had given the both of you much to think about. Outwardly, you maintained the appearance that nothing had changed between the two of you, taking snipes at each other every now and then. But every night, before you’d fall asleep, your mind would wander back to that evening at the Astronomy Tower, the sight of Theo and the harsh contours of his face softened by the forgiving setting sun. Every night, he asks if you have anything else to say. Every night, you shake your head.

And as much as you’d like to pretend otherwise, things had changed between you. Theo became more reserved, somehow, less determined to spar with you. Your fights didn’t hold anywhere near the spark they once did. And you hated it. You hated that it bothered you, you hated that it upset you, you hated that it was all you could think about every time you were in the same classroom as him. It just wasn’t fair.

What also wasn’t fair was your entire group falling sick the day before an extremely crucial Potions project was due. They were all more than apologetic, but it didn’t change the fact that months worth of work to complete in one night if you wanted even a semblance of a chance at passing.

Which was how Theodore Nott found you in the library late one night, pouring over five gnarly tomes on Potions from the Medieval era, writing what looked like three essays at once. You flinched when you heard a noise near the bookshelves, and your mood wasn’t much improved when you saw who it was.

“Trying to read every book in one night, L/N?”

You wanted to roll your eyes. After weeks of stunted conversation, now that it was just the two of them, he was suddenly feeling chatty?

“I'm busy. Buzz off.”

Ignoring you, Theo crept closer, tilting his head to read what you were haphazardly scribbling.

“The Potions project? But we started that months ago. And it’s due tomorrow.”

You swept the papers up out of his sight. You were already in a testy mood to begin with and you were in no mood to have him crow over your bad luck.

“What part of ‘buzz off’ don’t you get?”

“Where are your groupmates?”

“Sick.”

“Sick?”

“They all went on some Hogsmeade trip together, the whole lot of them. They all caught it from each other and they’re supposed to be stupidly contagious.”

“But their reports should be fine.”

“They were, until Madam Pomfrey declared them a biohazard.” Your head was beginning to hurt from the bottled-up frustration. You knew it wasn’t their fault for falling sick, but now you had to pull an all-nighter just so you wouldn’t fail. You stood and walked past him to the shelves, pulling out any and every book that remotely looked like it might help. 

You glanced at the clock, mentally calculating how much time you’d need. There was no way you could get it all done by 9 am. Feeling quite proud of yourself for successfully giving Theo the same cold shoulder he had been giving you the past couple of weeks, you walked to the library telephone and started dialing the number to Slughorn’s office. One of the only people who could help you now was Jeeves, Slughorn’s teaching assistant, provided he was in a good enough mood.

“Jeeves, hi. Yes, I know it’s late, but I was wondering if you could delay the Potions project submission by just an hour? I’m sure Slughorn wouldn’t mind. It’s just my entire team fell sick all at once, and Madam Pomfrey threw out everything they’ve touched in the past three days, including their reports. I know it's due 9 am but couldn’t you bend the rule a little, just this once? For me?”

You rubbed your forehead anxiously, an unpleasant expression on your face as you tried to follow whatever Jeeves was yammering about punctuality. When he moved on to the importance of personal accountability, you felt like you were going to combust if you didn’t shut him up soon.

“Y’know, Jeeves,” you interrupted with a dramatic sigh, dropping your voice, “just the other day I was thinking about that one Quidditch match you had played a couple of years back. Yes, that one game you subbed in for the Chaser? I have to say, you’re no slouch yourself out on the pitch. You sure look like you know your way around a broom. Yes, exactly, way better than those oafs on the team. I always thought it was a shame you didn’t make the cut - one hour. Yes, yes, that’s all I need. Thank you, thank you!”

You hung up, already feeling much more hopeful with the one-hour extension. All that was left to do was slave away for the rest of the night, and by morning you’d have a more than acceptable report ready.

“…what was that?”

You started, having nearly forgotten who was with you. “What was what?” You asked, half-distracted, once again absorbed in rearranging the layout of your Potions project.

“That, with the - ‘you look like you know your way around a broom?’ Really?”

You glanced at Theo, frowning. “Well, how do you get what you want?”

You turned your gaze back to the book splayed out in front of you, missing the brief look of longing that passed over Theo’s face. “Hmm. Bribery, mainly.”

“Right,” you said slowly, a hint of sarcasm in your tone underneath the flurry of activity. “That trust fund isn’t going to spend itself, now is it?”

“My trust fund doesn’t kick in ‘til I’m 25, tesoro.”

You wanted to kick yourself when your heart fluttered over the stupidly endearing pet name. You didn’t realise how much you missed it. “Oh, oh, of course. Mr. Moneybags here is just absolutely rolling in it even without his trust fund. How could I forget?”

“Mr. Moneybags? That’s the best you can come up with?”

You huffed without any real annoyance. You walked over to where Theo was lounging as he lazily watched you spin like a top between the bookshelves. He had the decency to sit up slightly as you approached and dumped the stack of papers into his lap.

“Look, Nott, I’m on a time crunch here. So either help me or get out.”

Theo looked up at you without a trace of mockery in his otherwise teasing blue eyes. You willed yourself to not look away. 

“Yes, ma'am.”

You made the mistake of holding his gaze. A beat passed, then two. It seemed that it was surprisingly impossible for either of you to look away. Finally, you snapped out of it, mentally giving yourself a good shake as you hurried out of his magnetic field back to the table. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought you were flirting with him.

“Wha -?”

“Toast. From breakfast.”

You glanced around the room bleary-eyed, seizing Theo’s wrist a little harder than necessary as you blinked the sleep out of your eyes. As much as you hated to admit it, last night had gone better than you could have ever hoped. It helped to have another pair of hands and a brain that was almost as good as yours. Unfortunately, you must have nodded off at some point, 

Cursing as you finally made out the time on his watch, you peeled off the piece of parchment stuck to your face and continued writing, even as every muscle in your palm protested. Theo rolled his eyes and stuck the toast in your mouth, which you mindlessly nibbled on for the next hour or so. 

When you were finally done, you stuck your group’s names on the cover page and the two of you hurried down to Slughorn’s office a little before 10 o clock. Jeeves, good man that he was, was still in. But your relief was short-lived.

Jeeves did an insufferably exaggerated impression of reading the time as you walked in. “It’s 2 past 10. I’m afraid I can’t accept your submission.”

This was it. You reached your limit. You weren’t running on what was at most 2 hours of sleep just for some self-important dimwit of a teaching assistant to refuse your submission.

You grabbed the collar of Jeeves’ shirt, manhandling him with hours' worth of frustration. “Listen here, Jeeves. You will accept my group’s submission if you want to walk out of here with every part of your anatomy intact. You will take these essays I have here and you will accept them graciously, Merlin help you if you don’t.”

“What happened to using your feminine wiles?” asked Theo, thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Yeah, well, now I’m more in the mood for a feminine ass-kicking. Jeeves, come on. ”

You only released him when Theo placed a calming hand on your wrist. He reached into his pocket, offering something to a very red-faced and highly affronted Jeeves.

“C’mon, Jeeves. Maybe we could make this more worth your while.”

You hesitated, torn. On the one hand, you were raised better than to bribe people or accept financial aid, especially when you didn’t really need it. On the other hand, this project was worth 40% of your grade and Jeeves was being a little bitch. 

Jeeves mulled over the coins in his palm, taking his sweet time appraising them. Just as it looked like he was about to ask for something a little more, you slammed a hand on his desk.

“Alright, fine, hand it over.”

Once you’d finally successfully submitted your project, the two of you walked out of Slughorn’s office in a daze. Without the stress of the impending deadline to act as a buffer between you, a certain awkwardness started to set in. Theo had his hands in his pockets, rubbing at a scuffed patch on the floor with his shoe.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you started, but he waved off your protests. Still, no one pulls an all-nighter for just about anyone.

“So how much did you give him?”

Theo sighed. “L/N.”

But you were already pulling out your coin purse. “It can’t have been more than what I have on me now.”

“Y/N.” You stopped counting out your coins. He was looking at you strangely, like he didn’t understand what he was doing either. “Forget it. Really.”

Reluctantly, you pocketed your coin purse. A hysterical sort of giddiness was starting to set in. “We did it.”

“You did it.”

Maybe it was the long night of endless writing or your grumbling stomach. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation. Or maybe it was the way he was looking at you now, with a smile so sincere like he was genuinely so proud of you. Whatever it was, you took a step towards him, and then another before throwing your arms around his neck.

It was a little less dignified than you would have hoped, what with you trembling with barely any sleep and the vestiges of caffeine-induced adrenaline and him having the audacity of being a whole head taller than you since sixth year. But he steadied you before you could tip back, his arms resting around your waist. You had never shaken hands, much less hugged each other, but something about it felt so warm, comforting, familiar. The feel of his solid body pressed against yours didn’t feel so terrible.

But as you pulled apart, you caught sight of his expression, and your face fell. He wasn’t smiling like you, not anymore. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, immediately feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. He still wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look angry either. He looked - you couldn’t tell how he looked. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear almost regretfully, before turning to leave.

“Don’t.”

Theo paused. He didn’t turn to face you.

“Don’t do this, Nott. Don’t be cold. Don’t be distant.”

He adjusted the shoulder strap of his satchel. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was nervous. “I have Charms to get to.” He turned his head slightly but not enough to meet your gaze. “You should get a proper breakfast.”

And then he left, as if he had no idea what you were talking about. As if the last twelve hours hadn’t occurred. As if he hadn’t felt the void festering between you the past couple of weeks.

As if he didn’t care about you.

[nervoushottee]

night shift | daryl dixon x fem!reader

Summary: [2k] You keep Daryl company on a night watch

Warnings: Set in Prison era of TWD (around season 3-4)

Note: back with more of our soft shy boy daryl. Thank you so much for all the beautiful reboots and likes and hello to the followers from my previous Daryl fic.

Hope you enjoy, mwah!

His side of the bed was cold.

Which wasn’t something unusual if he had a watch shift or had to take a piss. But you knew his shift was tomorrow night and if he had to go relieve himself he would’ve told you. Would have whispered it out in the darkness of the night with a small squeeze on your ankle. A physical tether and promise that he would come back.

But you didn’t hear any whispers nor feel a warm calloused hand squeeze your leg.

So you rub the sleep from your eyes, lift the blanket away from your body and go and look for him. Shoving your feet in the boots near the bed, you brush the curtain away and walk down through the quiet prison.

You see a few flashlights and torches on. One of them you already know to be Carl sneaking in a few more chapters of his comics before bed. A smile forming on your lips at the thought as you walk out into the common area. Metal tables that are usually filled with people are now empty and cold to the touch.

You pass by Karen who was coming from the bathroom/showers and ask if she’d seen Daryl. She shook her head with a yawn. You place your hand on her shoulder as a thank you, telling her to get some sleep.

The moon is shining bright and full when you open the door to the courtyard. You feel the cold seep through your long sleeve shirt. Hershel’s words come back to mind, that it felt like winter might come sooner than normal. The council has been doing extra inventory over the food, ammo and medicine just in case.

Crickets and the faint growls of walkers fill your ears. You look left and right and still no sign of Daryl. Finally you decide as your last resort and honestly too tired to walk about the whole prison to look for the man, you whistle. It’s a soft, short and low whistle. A bit quieter than you would normally do. Your throat a little dry from sleep but you knew if Daryl was out here, he’d hear the noise all the same.

A small smile grows on your face when you hear the faint whistle back from your left.

You turn and look up to see a tall figure standing in one of the cell towers. His body turned to you. You can't see his face but you know Daryl’s staring at you.

The walk up the top of the tower is short. You knock three times and two more times with a pause in between and Daryl doesn’t hesitate to open the hatch for you.

“What you doin’ up?”, you don’t respond as he extends his hand out to help you up.

“Should be sleepin’. ” he mutters as he locks up the hatch.

Your eyes roll. “Could say the same thing to you, mister.”

“Supposed to be Carol’s watch but the girls weren’ havin’ it. Said she’d take mine tomorrow.” You hum in understanding and walk over to the railing where he stands to watch over the prison. You could see everything from up here. The walkers around the gates, the pigs and chickens in their coops, the garden and everything else in between.

The chill of the wind goes through you, causing you to shiver. You feel Daryl slide the hand that’s not holding his crossbow around your waist and guide you closer to him. You put your hands inside his open jacket. Wrapping your arms around his waist to get as much warmth from his body heat as possible.

Daryl grumbles and you feel him shake his head against the top of yours. You look up at him in question. “Don’t even got somethn’ warm on. Could get sick.” You roll your eyes a second time that night.

“How was I supposed to know you were outside doing Carol’s shift if you didn’t tell me?” Daryl grunts a response back. A “he knows you’re right but won’t say it” grunt which pulls a teasing smile from your mouth.

“Oh. That reminds me.”, You unclasp your hands from his waist and reach for your butt pocket and pull out a smushed granola bar. “Here.”,you hand it out to him.

Daryl shakes his head. “ ‘S yours.”

He wasn’t wrong. With the amount of food the prison has now and how frequent all of you were able to get into a somewhat normal routine of eating. It brought back the hangriness you would once feel before the dead started walking. Something you didn’t really enjoy but happens nonetheless. Since then, you always kept little small snacks on you. Whether it's leftover bread from lunch or an apple Daryl’s snuck in your jacket or anything small you could get your hands on. Nothing too big that would put a dent into the rations though.

This time you kept a flattened granola bar you had found during one of the group runs. You found two and gave one to Carl who thanked you profusely. Remembering the Chewy brand of peanut butter chocolate chip granola bar he would eat when he was young. It was a bit stale and the chocolate and peanut butter chips were hard but it was tolerable. And food was still food.

“I know but I’m giving it to you.”

You know Daryl will protest. Your eyes meet his and have a silent conversation with one another. You’re not gonna back down, persistent as ever for him to take it. You can see it in his eyes that he wants you to keep it for later but you look right back at him. Even adding a squint for emphasis.

Daryl didn’t eat enough as it is. He usually was fine with scraps of anything he can get his hands on. Could last a long time on just that but most times you weren’t having it. If the prison had the supply then you were going to make sure he had a bit more than he lets himself have. You know it all trickles down to him feeling as if others need it more than him.

You tap the granola packet against his chest. Raising an eyebrow up at him, your chin on his chest. You can see a small faint smile grow on his lips. His eyes gleaming with adoration yet looks at you stoic and still. Finally, he relents with a deep sigh. Putting his crossbow down on the floor. It's awkward with how left hand is still loosely against your waist. You bend along with him as an attempt to help. Daryl turns back to you, his hand extended as he takes the granola bar from your awaiting hand.

You let go of him so he can open the wrapper and eat. Instantly feeling the difference of the loss of his warmth. He breaks a piece of. The smushed granola breaks off like bark and you snort at the sound. Daryl hands the first piece to you. His eyes tell you not to press him and for the third time that night, you roll your eyes. Taking the granola from his calloused hands.

The two of you eat quietly. You look around the prison, squint at the chickens and pigs sleeping. Fumbling with the last bit of granola, you can’t help but laugh quietly at its flatten appeal.

“Was’ funny?” Daryl questions.

You turn your head to see him already staring at you. You hand the last bit of granola to him and he eats it without hesitation. You knew he was hungry. “Have you ever had a Rice Krispy Treat?”

Daryl shakes his head, “The hell is that?”

You smile as you wipe the granola crumbs from your hands. “It’s this bar of marshmallow and rice puff cereal. They melt marshmallows down to a goo and pour the rice cereal and form them into little bars.” You explain to him. Daryl watches your hands as you use them to demonstrate as you talk.

He shakes his head again, “Never heard of ‘em.”

You hum, turning your back away from the look out. “I used to love them as a kid. They were sweet and chewy and we’d get them as a snack at school. My mom was a health nut and it was too many calories, too much sugar and all the too much that kids don’t really give a shit about.” You feel the rumble of Daryl’s laugh which makes you smile in return.

He pats his hands against his jacket pockets and pulls out his box of miscellaneous cigarettes. You remember taking a peek in them one night and seeing some that looked different than others. Daryl had told you he didn’t feel like carrying multiple boxes. So when he finds more cigarettes lying around he just adds them to his pack.

“I was laughing because I remember as a kid. My friends and I would deliberately smush the rice krispy treat.”Daryl’s eyebrows furrow as he lights his half smoked cigarette. Confused as all get go but still listens to you nonetheless.

“We’d put them on the floor and step on them really hard until we heard the wrapper pop and we’d just eat them flat like that.”

“Why?”

“Because for some reason we thought they tasted better that way. Sweeter.” You say with a smile as you remember the tasty treat and young smiles. “Man, I can’t even remember the last time I had one of those. Way before all this. Maybe when I was a teen or somethin’.”

Daryl extends the cigarette out to you in question. You hesitate before taking it. You don’t smoke often, sometimes the taste annoys you and sometimes it doesn’t. Daryl knows you don’t smoke enough for him to give you your own cigarette so he always just shares the one he smokes with you.

“These things don’ taste sweeter smushed.” He tells you with his head gesturing to the forgotten wrapper. You laugh and hit his shoulder playfully as you take a hit or two of the cig before handing back to him with a grimace. You wrap both hands around his arm closest to you, sliding one of your hands to connect with his and loosely play with his fingers.

“Yea well. Those rice treats sure tasted better smushed from what I remember.” You tell him as you place your head on his shoulder.

He doesn’t say anything, simply hums and the conversation slides into a comfortable silence. You hear the crickets again. The sound of Daryl’s cigarette burning. The small sounds of metal creaking from the prison. When it’s quiet like this, you forget that the world is dead. That you’re just out looking at the stars and the moon. With the cool wind as your friend.

The feeling of your locked hand in Daryl’s bump against your leg and pulls you out of the daydream. You look up at him with questioning eyes. He gives your face a once over, making sure you’re not stuck in your head again before speaking.

“You should get some sleep.”

“You tryna get rid of me Daryl Dixon?”

“I’m tryin’ to get your ass back in bed where it’s warm.”

You were cold. The two hits of nicotine smoke do nothing to warm your chest. And if you weren’t so cold then you’d probably protest and stay with him a little while longer. Instead you sigh and nod a few times. Agreeing to Daryl that it’s cold and that you should sleep. With that you let go of his arm with a tight squeeze and Daryl opens the hatch for you to go back down.

“Wake me up when you get back.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You snort softly and kiss his cheek. you feel a very faint tap on your backside before heading down the cell tower and back over to the prison side door. The sound of a faint whistle greets your ears on your walk back to the prison. Stopping you in your tracks, you smile softly to yourself and whistle right back to him. A good night of sorts.

You curl back up into the sheets and think about cigarette smoke and rice krispie treats.

[johanna-swann]

We've analysed the Bucktommy break-up to death, but I keep seeing the "pedestal" thing popping up and I have thoughts about that.

Because in my opinion, the "Buck put Tommy on a pedestal" explanation doesn't really hold up all that well. Buck found out about Tommy and Abby right before that break-up. He found out about one of the worst things Tommy ever did to another person - letting Abby fall in love with him, getting engaged to her, leading her on for over 2 years and then leaving her to take care of her sick mother alone even though he knew right from the start that he would never love Abby like that. And even though he really had no room to judge anyone's dating behaviour after that stunt, he called out Abby for her rebound and in the same breath (unknowingly) called Buck a himbo to his face.

After that Buck, understandably, spiralled a little bit. He really did seem shaken up, especially because it seems he forgave Abby for the way she left him and he feels protective of her. But instead of making any impulsive decisions he sat with that information and thought about it, acknowledged what Tommy did, then got advice when he didn't come to a satisfying conclusion by himself. He thought it through and realised: That was then and this is now.

Now he's not worried that Tommy might do something like that again. Now he thinks that despite this complicated past they somehow share he and Tommy could have a future.

He knows Tommy isn't perfect. He knows Tommy has hurt people. He still admires Tommy because Buck, in some ways, has a similar past. He has also hurt people he loved to protect himself (hello lawsuit arc) and he has learnt and grown a lot over the years. And he knows that this journey of self-improvement must've been much harder for Tommy who had a lot less support than he did.

But admiring a person despite their flaws is not the same as not seeing those flaws. I think it's possible Tommy thought Buck wasn't seeing him for who he really is, but Buck very much took a look at that relationship and said "Stop. What am I doing here and do I want to continue this?". That's what his fieldtrip to dispatch was about. Buck made a very conscious decision when he chose to move forward with Tommy.

Buck's mistake was, as usual, to jump all in too fast with the big steps and a definite lack of diplomacy. Through Tommy's eyes that might've looked like the same thing, like Buck was still wearing the rose-tinted glasses, but I think moving too fast and going in blind are two separate issues and from Buck's side only one applies to the situation.

[laswells-ashtray]

John never thinks too hard about his childhood, he thinks he's past it. Drunken dad who died when he was a teen, mum who died the day he was born. No point wasting time on that and he thinks he's outgrown that point in his life. Maybe Dad was a bit heavy-handed with the belt but that was more acceptable back then, no need to fuss, and when he compares it to the stories Simon let slip when they both went a little too hard with the drink, he has nothing to complain about.

He never shares any family stories, yeah, Soap will share a story about how he was named after his dad and it sparks a conversation, Kyle will explain the origin of his name proudly, Simon will offer a sparse answer and none of them will ask for any further context. John will offer some half-assed explanation about being named after his old man's old man, someone he never met and never thinks about. Kyle asks him about his mother with a gentleness that can only mean he's noticed that John never talks about her, he offers the classic "never knew her" and it isn't a lie. It isn't. Because he didn't know her, she left earth the same day he made his appearance on it, the value of his life has always been at the cost of another, it's why he makes such a good captain. And he's sick of hearing "oh, I'm sorry" whenever he mentions that he's dead. He's a grown man, he can only hear so many apologies before they become just pointless words that hold no value.

So, it doesn't bother him. Two people he knew are dead, they started the list of countless other names that he doesn't bother thinking about.

And then he comes back from a mission one day, it was a shitshow. Nothing went to plan because their intel was fucked and everyone is frustrated. Ghost had to get stitches in a wound on his arm, isn't the end of the world but it was avoidable. Gaz, the poor fucker is concussed and Soap has the fun job of waking him up every two hours to check on him, a job he was assigned by a medic after they pulled the glass out of his hand. John is almost certain his ankle is sprained, his entire body is a bruise, he lost a good fucking cigar and he snapped at Laswell over comms so he owes an apology that he's planning in advance.

He wants Nik, it might be juvenile but he's tired in a way he can feel in his bones and he wants his pilot.

He finds Nik, he doesn't have to say anything as they head back to his room. Nik knows, Nik always knows. There's the briefest of exchanges as he strips out of his kit and he heads to the shower with the slightest relief knowing that his night is going to end in lazy sex and being stuck under the warm blanket of the Russian bear of a man.

He walks out with damp hair in a pair of boxers and socks because the floor is fucking cold with the constant draft and all but collapses face-first onto his bed. He'll offer Nik a murmured apology later for being selfish but he just isn't sure he can form the words right now.

He can hear Nik kicking off his boots behind him with little care as to where they land, it's a familiar sound from nights like this. He's as relaxed as he's going to get until he hears it, the sound of someone fumbling with their belt buckle. For years it's been just a noise but for the briefest of moments he tenses up in preparation, shoulders raised instinctively to try and block the leather from catching the back of his neck. He's not sure if he's breathing and he can smell whisky, the old fucker must've lobbed the bottle at the wall again and the last dredges of Johnnie Walker red label are soaking into the carpet again. If he doesn't remember to clean it before he goes up to bed then he's fucked, the old drunk will wring his fucking neck just like last time when he-

"John?" The hand on his back is warm as it lands between his shoulder blades, it should be comforting and he should relax into it. He doesn't. He's ashamed of the way he flinches, kicking out a leg as he tries to push himself up the bed and away from it hits him. It's Nikolai. The hand belongs to Nik.

He turns to face the other man, lying on his side and propped up with an elbow. He isn't sure if the sheer mortification he feels is obvious, or the tremors in his hands. He hasn't reacted like that since he was a boy.

"Fuck, Nik. Sorry, just lost in my own fucking head- Sorry, give me a sec and we can get to it." It's humiliating, he's the one who asked for sex and a fucking belt sends him over the edge.

"No, no `getting to it`. We shall continue another night." And there he's gone and done it, his fucking inability to keep his composure has just put a dampener on their sex life.

The cautious way Nikolai reaches out for him hurts, he's being treated like some scared animal. The large hand on his shoulder does act as a source of comfort when he knows who's behind it. "John, перестань. Talk to me, captain."

"I don't- I don't know, just give me a moment." How long can he spend pleading for just a little more time before Nikolai gets sick of it.

"The belt."

He looks up at the Russian with wide eyes, mouth open as he tries to form a denial of some kind, waiting for words that won't form.

Nikolai stares down at him with a look so gentle he has to look away, he can hear the faint sigh of resignation and the following mutter of something Russian that he isn't paying enough attention to in order to translate it in his head.

He sits in silence as the other man joins him in the bed, leaving a gap between that and offering John the chance to cross it on his own time. He shifts over and plaster himself against his partner's side, face buried in his neck.

"I assumed the scars down your back were from torture, just not the military kind."

"From years ago, don't matter much now do they? Taken a lot worse than a belt since then." His body was covered in scars of varying sizes, from anywhere to the scar on his hand from slicing a bagel to the silver band wrapped around part of his left thigh from a bastard with a blade that damn near nicked an artery. He'd stuck that poor sod's blade through his own throat and left him to gurgle on his blood.

"I assume your father is dead?" The fact that Nikolai sounds hopeful isn't lost on him.

"Drank himself into oblivion years ago." John had always thought it would've been his liver that did him in, would've bet money on it. Would've lost too. The old man had asphyxiated on his own vomit, silly prick.

"Good."

[azlovesem]

Youre a chump chiimp buddy. Plagiarists fucked with me. A lynie did whose in calibi just torched the joint.ive doin ot for 20 years. Im Azriel aka Jesus fuckn Chtist. Shut uo fyckn mobiey you dont know wanna kniw the story. Ive been fyvjrd iver enough as a writer i hsve to go fight in Ukraine because youre pussy ass fuckn literature mojor who cant fight hos way out of wet paper fuckn bag. Im certain Emma and I are destined to be together. If thats the case make yourself scarce. Be the better man im not gonna be because extenuating circumstances. I never use that word. If you love her forget what that ding bat broad says and declare it. If i saw you guys in happy pics. Doing great and you rwally love her wtf can i do. Im dead meat anyway. I just wanna know before i die. Not after cause then dhes damned for all eternity. You dont do this ki c of shit on the bhest of w rat smericsn i just beat to shit. Understand Emba. Ill torch ixford soon. See ya gutl yiu know where i sm in toronto. Im not writing it again. I think we re better off together. Then i might have a reason to survive the war. My wife and i are doomed anyway. What you fuckn did haz taken its toll on my relationship. Now ill do the same to any of yours. Did she tell you what she did? I think its best you make tracks. But i ya seem like yoy might be a goid guy. Do you plagiarize people? its hapoened to me many times. Im sick of that and what ur girl did. I eill find her 1000 percent.we mught gave to duel practice. Its twenty laces turn and fure. Old school. Ha ga ha. Yeah right pussy i already know you cant. That old school is flameable as fuck. Move the scorpion over it and wait. I just dastroyed a cpl things over here with it.

Still settling into being back at uni and narrowing down my dissertation topic.

[majaurukalo]

Look, I get it, disability support is not as trendy as being an LGBTQ+ supporter or against racism, we might not have all that cool music and colourful parade floats, our flag has a lot of black. It’s not fashionable. No business puts the disabled flag in their logos on July.

Some of us make non-disabled people uncomfortable (to their own admission) because of how we exist in this world. Some of us slouch and drool, some of us have tics and spasms, some of us are missing limbs or parts of our faces. We might have bulky mobility aids and big and noisy equipment, some of us can’t avoid to attract attention, some of us are shaped in a “weird” way. We might walk and move too slowly or take a lot of time to express ourselves, to form thoughts and words. Some of us don’t speak. Many of us can’t fit in, can’t hide our disabilities and the way we look.

No, it’s not trendy or fashionable. I get it.

But the problem is that society has decided that there is only one standard to exist, to look, to be. The rest is abnormal, wrong, sick, broken…

It’s the mindset that needs to change. We should open up to all the different possibilities we could encounter, to the idea that what we are used to see is not necessarily the only right thing. Because there is no a “right” way to exist, to go through this World, to live, to look, to be. The more we open up to all of this, the more liberating it will feel. And it will be easier to accept the possibility of a future disability that might happen, to us and the people we love.

It’s not enough to just say “yes, disabled people deserve rights”. There should be an active step forward. Be uncomfortable. Get used to the idea of being around people who are not the “standard”. Be uncomfortable with the idea of a body and a mind that don’t work like you are used to.

[drpvnk]

people who hate the direction of kit's character because he's upset with ty while also knowing ty is autistic... are the same people who fail to realize that while kit is more knowledgable in that area than most nephilim, he was STILL only 15 years old, and while he did go along with ty until last minute even ty questioned his authenticity at some point...

(also did we all collectively forget kits entire storyline? this kid was in NO position to make any life-altering decisions... tbh the only person who might have an inkling of what he's going through is clary, cause yea not even jace and his reassurance can fully encompass kits issues...

i mean here is a kid who was abused by neglection and harsh treatment, a kid who has only ever know to crave love and never felt it. and then one day his abuser/protector is ripped in half right in front of him, and he's promptly told that he is apart of a society who he was taught to hate his entire life. so there goes his first identity crisis. but oh wait, this entirely new society has been taught to expect tragedy to happen at anytime of the day so suck it up cause your one of us now and also we're placing you in a super tight-knit family that is going through their own traumatic shit, so they won't have time to even TRY and make you feel welcomed or acknowledged... like AT ALL. (cause wow, how many times was kit left on the sidelines while the entire LA institute had a giant group hug... LOL) but then you get accepted by these twins and become apart of their little group, and now you don't want to let go, you CAN'T, because this is the closest you've ever been to being apart of a family, so you have to bury your grief and be likeable and cool and strong. but then one of the twins die and suddenly everyone is looking at you to comfort the other twin, but you haven't even been able to figure out how to grieve yourself before having to experience this additional loss of a budding relationship. but you love this boy so OK you do what you can, even if it means going along with something that makes you sick to your stomach. but your still new here, you don't know which lines to cross, you don't know whats ok and what's not, who to tell and who not to tell, you dont want this boy to hate you, you can't lose this "home" even as it's being held by the thinnest string ready to break. even as you look at yourself and can only see the same look of disappointment and hate and secrets upon secrets, an exact copy of his fathers expression when he looked at kit, a man your not sure you even love. there goes your second identity crisis. (funny how much kit hates secrets and yet thats been the only revelation of his entire existence)

you suck it up until you can't anymore, until your feelings spill over in the purest words that you can express, words that mean a lifetime to you because these are words no one has have uttered to you, because these are words you know you probably need to hear too.

except now your left soppin wet and punched by your inconsolable crush and watching as he performs a failed resurrection. and then after being kept in confinement for some days its revealed that your part faerie, another race hellbent on being hated by the world. except your not just any faerie but the one true heir to TWO thrones... and there's your third identity crisis.))) also,,, dont get me started on the short stories where we expect to read about kit healing and then we actually just see him sink deeper and deeper into this pit of self-loathing as he's continuously put in positions that have him viewed as a threat and danger to his family... i.e. his heritage, tessa and jems reaction to him holding james' gun, mina's kidnapping, etc.

yea, by all means kit be angry!

and to address kit being older and still holding this grudge years later with the assumption that he knows more and maybe understands ty's thought process better,,, he's already admitted to being mad at ty for putting kit in a position that had him looking in the mirror and seeing johnny rook... NOT at the fact that he was "rejected" or even the resurrection itself...

is kit in the right for his misplaced anger? ofc not,,, but he also went through a lifetime of trauma that you can't simply let go of just because another person might not have fully understood the headspace that he was in at the moment

kits characterization within the fandom really makes me realize how privileged many people are to never having to go through the messy process of grieving your abuser while now figuring out who you are after them, all while their shadow is still casted over your entire being... like, no kit didn't runaway from being rejected by a boy, he ran away from being rejected despite his desperate efforts to be loved, even if it meant sacrificing his own sanity by becoming someone who resembled the catalyst of ALOT of his trauma,,,ofc this is all in his pov since we the readers are aware of tys feelings)

thats all to say that kit really is good at suppressing his feelings if even the readers glossed over the multiple times his mind began to stray towards the death of his father throughout the tda series. like, we're aware of johnny's treatment towards kit and we're also aware of the envirommemt he was raised in,,, so why is it that people focus on him "knowing" about the spectrum b/c he lives in modern society than they are about the life he's personally lived that influenced his decision and thought process throughout the story?

and if it wasn't obvious this post was entirely for kit's pov, ty has a completely different view of things and where kit might not fully understand how ty processes things, neither does ty towards kit. they're both on completely different pages!!

but thats the point of their story!! theyre gonna heal together! we will explore ty's pov and see what he REALLY saw during that time period and maybe kit can finally love himself the way he wants others to love him,,,,

[rebouks]

Do you have any recommendations for starting a story? Yours is so good and it really inspires me to try and make one of my own but idk where to start

Hmmm a tough question! I think we all just kinda start and learn as we go? It's the best way tbh.. if you look back at the beginning of most simblr stories they've usually come a long way! Here's a couple tips that I think might be handy tho...

Maybe we could start a thread and everyone could reblog this with their own tips?! 🤩

Decide if you want to build your own lots/sets or not. If you do you'll probs wanna start off with the main places you'll use that're full of personality, like a main characters house or place of work etc. you can always download some neat lots and edit them to your liking if you're not a builder, or maybe even download a whole save file!

Start a character page (or make an intro post for em if you can't be arsed with the technicalities) - not essential but useful for you and the readers to keep track of who's who and maybe state a few facts about them etc.

Start collecting some poses and ideally rename them so they're easy to find! I personally like to add smth like [PETS] or [KISSING] etc to mine (in s4s) in conjunction with twistedmexi's pose finder to make things easier to grab.

If you use reshade/gshade, taking the time to find or create a nice preset will save you a bunch of time editing.

For the love of god if you're gonna make a bunch of extras, try and dress them in maxis clothes/hair.. I'm so SICK of having to redress everyone every time I clear out a bunch of cc skjdksj 🙈 you can always give em an extra, fancy cc outfit for specific scenes on the day but yeah, do yourself a solid where possible to save time/pain in the future. Same goes for lots you don't use often, try and limit the cc you use!

Figure out if you're a planner or not! If you can't manage without a plan it's okay to take some time before starting to figure everything out and get a detailed outline going. If you're more of a pantser (like me!) you can always just get going with a rough idea in mind and see what happens!

If you're gonna go with the flow I'd still recommend creating at least a rough outline, you don't have to stick to it like glue but it'll probs help you stay on track and I wish I'd have done this in the beginning, esp if you're gonna have a plot heavy story.

Characters > plot.. (imo!) like.. you could have a super interesting plot in mind but if no one really knows or cares about your characters it's gonna have a limited impact/amount of interest. They don't even have to be likable lmao

Give your characters some flaws! It's fun and it makes them more relatable.

Start with a small cast - not a complete must but it'll be probably be easier for people to get to know your pixels if they're aren't a million of them right off the bat. You can always add more later.

Try not to shoehorn your characters into situations they wouldn't end up in just to further the plot.. a hard one to explain and mostly based on intuition but if a scene feels boring, out of place or forced, it probably is! aka.. be willing to kill your darlings. Maybe you've already established that your character is poor or smth but have this fun idea of a road trip montage or whatever.. like you can't just give them a car and the money to drive a million miles just cos you HAVE to see that scene y'know? Maybe they're gonna have to hitch hike, get the bus, or take out a loan? Probs a bad example but hopefully you get the idea! It can sometimes be more fun to force your characters into a different situation than you imagined anyway, like maybe they meet someone really neat on the bus and they join the trip, or maybe whoever they borrowed money from gets all pissy when they can't pay em back quick enough etc etc.

Let your characters guide you - sometimes characters talk to us! You could've had a whole storyline planned for them, or a romance of whatever, but when it comes down to it, it just doesn't feel right and that's okay! Let them lead you in a different direction now n' then.

Write for you! (ugh becca stfu with this shit) I know, I know but really.. if you're not having fun, what's the point? Don't write what you think other people want and learn to be okay with cutting ideas/scenes/characters/whatever! that you aren't excited about anymore. It should never feel like a chore to create, and if it starts to feel that way, take a break or change it up!

I feel like this is super rambly and I've missed a million obvious things but my brain is mashed potato rn lmao.. pls feel free to add your own tips in a reblog or a comment - everyone has a different take on things! I think it's really important just to start and see what feels natural tho 🤸‍♀️🧡

[ultramaga]

It's interesting to see the mask slipping off and that feminist ranting about how evil hu-white men are. Feminism is not just sexist, but racist at the core. As for the Patriarchy demanding that she be hot, firstly, she wasn't, and secondly, most conservative countries don't want women going out in sexy outfits - that's something feminists fought FOR, and we have had feminists change laws so that they can walk about in nothing but a g-string. Feminism stands for nothing.

As for the Feminist claim that Nick Fuentes is the secret head of the Patriarchy, pffft, only a jellyfish would think that Nick was the master of more than a lump of earwax. Nobody except Feminists care about him, and he trolls them for the attention. By the way, the Duluth Model had "withholding sex" as a form of abuse, but only when males do it. Women doing it is perfectly cromulent!

That was from about 15 years ago, and my old article on it is long gone, but I expect if anyone wants to tunnel down they can find the original wheel.

Hell, as recently as 2021 feminists classed it as sexual abuse. Now it defines Feminism. And I think it's wonderful. Because the "male feminists" are going to be the only people hurt by this, and they are going to realise that all they will do is give and give, while feminists offer nothing but abuse and even murder in return. Male Feminists were walking away, over to Trump, before the election, and now the big plan feminists have to punish any that remain with them? Holy shit! That's like a general executing any soldiers that don't leave in retaliation for desertions! How the hell do Feminists imagine they will win anything without any men on their side?

Sure, that's a few men's kink, but Human Ashtray Guy is really not that common, and even they eventually get sick of it. Or die.

Woah!

"Sexual violence 

Withholding sex or using sex as a weapon."

Yup. Feminists made it the law, then freely acknowledge they intend to break their own laws, but since they corrupted the justice system so they judge such cases, they get to ignore the many times they flagantly flout the morality code THEY INSTITUTED. Feminists are the worst. By which I mean there is nothing good about them, nothing that can be admired. At least terrorists might be brave or have a belief they are righteous. Feminists believe in nothing but themselves, and crave nothing but the power to harm others, and if every single one died, the only result would be the world getting slightly better

Feminism really is a mental illness; look what it does to women's brains.

[thewistlingbadger]

How Silco Killed The Mining Industry And Strengthened Zaun's Economy

In season 1, it's established that mining is a popular occupation in Zaun, if not THE most popular occupation in the city. They backed this idea up in season two with a flashback scene too. However, it was also shown in season 2 that the mines in present day have been abandoned. No one's been down there in a long time, hence why things have been kept the exact same since Vander and Silco's era of revolution and why the mines have been taken over with a glowing organism. So how did this very common job basically become extinct? Why, it was Silco of course.

Thanks to flashback in season 2, we can see that not much changed in Zaun once Vander became their leader. This makes sense for two reasons. One, Vander was most likely the very first leader of Zaun (or at least the first one they've had in a long long time) and two, Vander's vision of Zaun. I'm making the first claim because had there been a leader of Zaun at the time that Silco and Vander were rallying the people, then they would have had to take down this person first before trying to take over. We don't have evidence that a person like this ever existed, so they probably didn't exist. It also makes sense on a logical standpoint. Piltover has always been afraid of a Zaun rebellion and even just Zaunite efforts to do anything of significance. A leader of Zaun would increase the threat of Zaun defecting from Piltover. So it makes sense that there was no leader of Zaun prior to Vander. Second point: After the falling out with Silco, Vander didn't have a vision for Zaun. The Nation of Zaun was the idea of the undercity being an independent nation from Piltover and it was an idea made by Vander and Silco. After the bridge, Vander completely changed his views due to the lives lost on the bridge. Which is why all we see him do is be a dad and a bartender. Everyone looks to him as their leader, and his way of leading is just him protecting his people and making sure everyone takes care of each other and sticks together. He's trying to keep things safe, he's not trying to be revolutionary, which is why everything stays the same.

But the complete OPPOSITE happens once Silco is in charge. Silco didn't give up the vision after the bridge, he fortified it. He held onto it and added to it. Silco's role in Zaun is not one of the protector, like Vander was. He didn't care about community, he cared about raising Zaun's station and gaining independence. We see in season one that once Silco takes over, Zaun becomes much more dangerous but also much more modern and wealthier than before. This is because Silco is a politician, he's running an organization. And every spot in the organization is a job, from Sevika, to the chem barons, to Marcus. Vander didn't have an organization because he wasn't a politician. By being more political than Vander, Silco has made more jobs for zaunites and thus they don't have to rely on the mines anymore. Silco is also behind Shimmer, and that industry is definitely shown to be much larger than the mining industry so far in the story. Not only does shimmer have a much larger market, but it's made and sold by Zaun. There is no Piltover involvement and so they get to keep all their profits.

Silco's own ties to the mines could also be an additional factor to why no one works in the mines anymore. We know that the work conditions in the mines were so harsh that almost everyone got exposed to The Gray, a toxic gas that was released due to excess mining. This gas was so toxic that it made the average zaunite sick and in severe cases it caused death and severe injuries. This is just one way Piltover is able to show their might over Zaun, and there's no way Silco would stand by this. Especially since he used to work in the mines with his friends; the mines are too close to Silco's past. When Silco exposed the chem barons to The Gray, they almost died, but Silco was unaffected. When talking about The Gray, he says "air so thick it clogged your throat," these were the conditions he and countless others used to work. This just shows that in the few years he's been in charge, people have stayed clear of the mines. If mining was just as big as it used to be, the no one would be reacting this severely to The Gray.

Now in season 1 Jayce says he made the gauntlets for the mining in the fissures, so it's possible that the industry still exists but is just no where NEAR the size it used to be. It could also be that Piltover hasn't even realized that the mining industry is essentially dead because they're so neglectful of Zaun and preoccupied with other stuff.