#they like just being able to hear me talk abt whatever or read or even sing

[annikuh]

not the real life embargo on talking abt Panathir

[1980ssunflower]

wish i was holding my min and ryan against me rn :-c

[dcangel]

hi hi! i saw that u were asking for reqs and prompt 29 rlly had me thinking… imagine you’ve been there for 2 years and are the only girl, and you don’t socialize much, you do your part and keep to yourself so no one knows much abt you. but when thomas shows up, he continues to bug you with questions/bother you including why ur the only girl there. there’s a lot of tension and one night he wonders off in the woods he finds you and one thing leads to another and it happens..!

AHH okay this is sending me to hell bc my mind is going feral just thinking about it and I literally am so excited to write this one. And thank you so much for requesting one <333 (this is my first time writing smut so bear with me)

Idk how to tag these correctly bc I’ve never posted anything but if I’m wrong just correct me: p in v, slight fingering, praising, degrading, dirty talk, mentions of edging, mentions of getting caught, choking kink, slight size kink, slight/moderate pain kink, oral sex!f receiving, a few uses of y/n, nicknames, 2nd person pov. Majorly unedited and not proofread (grammarly told me there were 149 errors but it’s 2:24 in the morning so grammarly can kindly fuck off. hopefully this is bearable to read.)

8238 words (what thee actual fuck)

29– Thomas

“Don’t muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”

The last few days were… something else. Like clockwork every month, another greenie arrived, but to you that just meant another person bugging the shit out of you until they got over it. What were you supposed to tell them? That you just felt like coming up into the maze and trapping yourself here for two years just because you were bored? Every single greenie, without fail, always pestered you like a small gnat swirling around your ear each day; “why are you the only girl? Why are you here? Is it hard being the only girl?” And of course the alarmingly obviously questions that crossed every new shank’s mind, but only few braved to ask.

You mostly managed to steer clear of the lewd obscenities, letting the few friends you made take care of it for you since it got to be an irritable subject for you very quickly. But, unfortunately, there were some that wanted to ask the girl herself. Some that didn’t even know your name, yet still approached you with a supercilious guise thinking that it would somehow win you over. Each time it made you wonder what they put in these new greenies before sending them up; they just kept getting worse and worse.

Majority of the gladers knew your name, but then again how could they not? Some knew it but just decided to call you whatever you wanted; as if you being a girl made you less human and more of an object. Those were the boys that could only dream of touching a girl, never mind even being able to hookup with one.

You were surprised by the amount of people that actually treated you as equal, even though it was the bare fucking minimum. Sometimes you found it ironic how Chuck—the youngest glader here—didn’t even think twice about your humanity status when half the so-called ���men” in this place treated you like scut. The boy having stated many times that “you’re a human too, just like the rest of us. We each play our part and at the end of the day; work is work. It doesn’t matter how old you are or if you’re a guy or a girl.” You think one of the reasons you were such good friends with the boy was because he could easily relate to your struggles; him being the youngest glader and always treated like a baby who couldn’t comprehend the simplest things, and you being the only girl who’s treated like shit because apparently women can’t possibly be able to do the same things as men. You were both deeply misunderstood, and that served as a foundation for one of your closest relationships.

Of course the leader, Alby, had always said the same; you were to be treated as equal. He’d even brought up the fact that it was dispiriting that the matter was even a question at all. Some days were worse than others, only granting you the energy to will yourself out of the small hut Gally and few others helped you build, at the last possible second and skipping breakfast as you trudged your way over to the gardens, taking your place by Newt. From there, maybe you’d have an occasional conversation about the dirt that constantly flung into your eyes, automatically irritating both your sight and your mood, or maybe about how brutally the blazing sun treated your reddening shoulders and face.

But on those days—the bad ones—you kept silent, doing what you were told when you were told, taking part in the roles that made the glade work. Maybe you’d join the rest of the glade for supper, sitting with the very few people you called ‘friends’ but at the end of the table, hoping to avoid conversation that inevitably reeled you in. More often than not, bad days usually warranted you to take the meal to your hut after a quick ‘thanks’ to Frypan, then making the isolated trip to the comforting confines of your own space.

You tried keeping to yourself, afraid to get too close with anyone that wasn’t Chuck or Newt, but of course your name was brought up quite often. It never made sense, though; you rarely interacted with anyone, even the people you exchanged words with on occasion, not much was known about you. You even tried to avoid being seen as often as possible in hopes that your absence would somehow make the gladers forget about your existence.

Yet every month when a new greenie was sent up, terrified and questioning their entire existence, it also started a new uproar around your name. So with Thomas, it was no different. Well, almost no different.

After he showed up, he wasn’t subtle with his intentions like most were—always asking anyone he could about anything that might make you more 3-dimensional in his eyes. So when he saw you talking to Chuck and ruffling the young boy’s hair, he used their already-forming bond to his advantage.

“Hey, Chuck, who was that?” He pretended to be oblivious as if he hadn’t been staring at you all day every day, the way your hair was always tied back in a single low braid, how the small strands that were too short slipped from the crossed-pattern and framed your face, how your sun-kissed nose scrunched whenever some minor inconvenience passed your way or the way your head tilted ever-so-slightly as a way to show your confusion.

He was well aware that this most certainly happened with every new arrival; the pestering questions, the intrusive thoughts, yet he was infatuated with wanting to know absolutely everything he could.

“Who? Her?” Chuck followed the older boy’s gaze, quickly losing interest once he saw where it led.

Thomas’s gaze, however, didn’t falter. He couldn’t decide what part of you to focus on. Maybe the way you effortlessly carried buckets and buckets of whatever the hell was needed for gardening, but it looked heavy enough to make him stare in awe. He was shameless. “Yes her. Who is she?”

“A person.” Chuck answered, being frustratingly vague.

Thomas finally pulled his brown eyes from you, landing them on the smaller boy beside him. “What’s her name?”

“Why does it matter?” The young boy was all too familiar with the questions of each newbie, most greenies coming to Chuck for the same thing each month that became almost a routine to give out as little information as possible to protect his friend.

Thomas sighed, mentally rolling his eyes. “Because I wanna’ know.” He answered bluntly.

“You wouldn’t care what that guy’s name is,” Chuck pointed to a builder named Dan. “So why do you care what her name is?”

The greenie squinted his eyes, jaw clenched in slight irritation, the veins on his neck becoming more prominent than before. “Because I just want to know?”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N. There.” Chuck’s bitter tone was definitely a eye-opener, the boy usually sweet and happy to make new friends.

“Thanks.” Thomas managed to get a small thumbs up in return as Chuck walked further away, obviously done with their conversation.

. . .

The next few days left Thomas’s curiosity at a higher peak, even worse than when he first got here—before he knew about the girl. Luckily Chuck had told you each time the greenie asked another question, and you couldn’t express how grateful you were for the young boy since he never answered them.

However, despite Chuck’s anguished attempts at telling Thomas to leave you alone, the greenie pursued his interests in getting to know you more, although it was nearly inevitable that this would happen.

On this particular day, though, he couldn’t seem to find you. Much to his dismay, you were in the Deadheads, sitting by the small brook that always seemed to flow despite the enclosed glade. It was night, the sun long gone although the heat never seemed to leave. You liked the Deadheads, specifically the brook. It was quiet, nothing but the sounds of water trickling over small rocks and folding in on itself, and maybe the occasional leaf falling to the forest floor. The peaceful sounds were a drastic difference to the clanking of shovels on rocks that seemed to peeve each gardener, or tools hammering wood that echoed across the entire open glade.

It was rare, but sometimes you’d accidentally fall asleep in the woods due to the calming nature, serving for an aching back and sore neck that shot pain thorough your whole body when you craned it the wrong way. It would’ve been one of those nights, except the sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping under someone’s foot brought you back from your half-asleep state. You sat up against the tree, your legs crossing as you looked around. The only people who knew you came out here were sure to be asleep by now, Chuck always falling asleep the second the second he laid down on his hammock, and Newt knowing you didn’t like to be bothered out here.

You thought back to when Ben had been stung and was chasing Thomas through the Deadheads, and you thought the same was about to happen to you. Grabbing a small stick by your side— that would probably snap if any pressure were applied— you stood up and looked around the dark forest. The plush foliage provided little to no light, which left your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness as quickly as possible.

You held the stick out in front of you and slowly backed up, occasionally spinning around to check behind you, the stick swinging through the air like it was wielded by a maniac.

The lack of light confused your senses, and somehow you didn’t you didn’t hear the cracking and snapping of leave and twigs, or feet the heat behind you getting closer and closer until your back slammed into something that scared you so bad you almost yelped as you whipped around to threaten whoever it was with the flimsy stick that almost snapped when you turned. You were greeted with an unfamiliar face, one that wasn’t just another in the sixty something faces in the glade that you had yet to learn the name of. It was a new one.

“Shit— sorry.” He muttered quickly, large, outstretched hands already on your shoulders to steady you.

You back up slightly, hoping his grip would fall off, and it did. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy automatically took to fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit you guessed. “I, uh… I was looking for you, actually. Chuck told me you might be out here.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, not believing him since Chuck knew better than to tell a random greenie where you’d most likely be during your free time. “Did he?”

The greenie struggled to come up with an excuse, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground.

“Or did you just watch me come out here earlier with the plans of following me, hoping I’d still be here after you were done with your job?” You added with a raised brow, a clear annoyed tone evident in your voice.

“Wel— No that’s not— I mean… well, you’re probably used to the newbies bothering you—”

“Damn right I am. And I don’t expect you to be any different, so unless you have anything important to say, then I’m just gonna leave.” You got straight to the point, not caring to sugarcoat or be nice to him since you’d tried that before with other greenies, and it usually didn’t turn out well. You dropped your stick and started to turn away from him when you heard his footsteps following you again, his voice following soon after.

“Well, no, but I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t know you v—”

“So let’s keep it that way, yeah?” You said, sounding as if you were talking to a child.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, a small habit of his. “Could you just stop cutting me off?”

“Why should I?” You said, brown raised in annoyance as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg.

“Because I fucking asked? It shouldn’t be that hard to be nice to someone.”

You scoffed, his attitude impressing you since it almost matched yours perfectly. You eyed him before opening your mouth to speak. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be. So why’re you making it so difficult then?” You asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, your head tilted coyly.

He let out a quick sigh, jaw clenching in irritation. “Because, all I did was try and talk to you and you’re being a bitch about it.”

Your head jerked back slightly, your eyebrows automatically raised with a taunting smile of disbelief creeping up. “You just can’t help it with the foul language can you?” You said with a laugh, one that seemed to get on his nerves even more. It was almost impressive how irritable he was. “Maybe you should try talking to directly instead of bugging my friends—especially Chuck— about me. Y’know, like a conversation or something? Maybe start off with a small introduction like your name or something a little less hostile.”

“Fine, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” It wasn’t intentional but you realized that you had cut him off again. But instead of apologizing, you almost wanted to see how pissed he could get before stomping off.

He was definitely contemplating it, almost losing interest since your attitude made him want to smash his head against a rock, but his pure stubbornness was what kept him standing there. “Again with the cutting me off! Is that all you ever do? ‘S that why you don’t have any friends.”

Being the only girl in a glade full of boys made this seem like nothing compared what else you’ve heard, so his little insults and slight temper tantrum did nothing. “Well you said you wanted to talk to me, and I’m assuming you wanted to get to know me more since all you ever do is bother Chuck.” You said with a shrug. “Come on, you can do better than that, I know you can.”

Something about your tone, the way it was taunting him, teasing him in a way that he couldn’t tell if he should hate you or want to slam you against a tree and— he shook his head, seemingly getting rid of whatever was going through his mind. “Why, you want me to insult you? Treat you like a piece of shit like everyone else does?”

You didn’t respond. Rather, you just stood there, not bothering to move as he subtly took a few slow steps toward you.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” He said, head tilting in a certain way that allowed the small streaks of moonlight peering through the spaces above that weren’t covered by trees to illuminate the beginnings of smug look on his freckled face.

Of course you knew what he looked like, he was a gardener the first few days so you had the displeasure of working near him, but something about him being up close and the way the shadowy brightness of the moon cast a perfect gleam allowed you to really notice his features. You had to admit, he wasn’t a bad looking guy; short brown hair, a perfect nose that could make anyone jealous, pale skin littered with moles and freckles that didn’t seem to be on just his face, golden-brown eyes that looked darker than in the daylight, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the tree coverage or some other reason…

“I bet it’s something else, isn’t it?” His voice was what snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes focusing back in on his darkening gaze.

“Huh?” You said, your eyes practically in slits at this point. You couldn’t tell if your question was actually a question, or if it was because you’d already forgotten what he asked before.

He took a step closer, yet he wasn’t actually that close. It was simply the darkness of the Deadheads and the way your other senses tried to account for your poor vision that made it seem like he was towering over you.

Or maybe he was.

“I said, are you just always a bitch like this, or do you do it because you like the way people respond. The way they get irritated and go off on you or treat you like shit all for you to complain about it afterwards.” You almost couldn’t believe his words. But what was less believable was the feeling that resonated in the pit of your stomach. One that had you thinking things you shouldn’t be.

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?” You spat out, trying to act offended.

His smirk grew, telling you that you reacted exactly how he expected. “You didn’t answer my question.” He took another step forward.

“I don’t have to.” You stepped back.

He noticed your slight step back, he also noticed the tree behind you—he same one you’d almost fallen asleep against earlier—getting closer each time. “I think it’s only fair that you do, so, go ahead. Answer it.”

Now, there were two ways you could’ve answered this. Which one did you choose? The one you knew would get the better reaction, of course. “Make me.”

One step later, you were already back up against the tree, seemingly nowhere to go (you could easily step to the side), and Thomas right in front of you, head tilted downwards to look at you because of the height difference. “I don’t think you really want me to. You’re just saying that.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” You whispered lazily, a small gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He brown ones bored into yours, an almost-mischievous glint behind them. He leaned down, his mouth inches from your ear, his hand against the tree on the other side of your head. “Maybe I will.”

You couldn’t help the way your knees felt weak, something about his voice; the raspiness embedded in his low, deep tone. “Maybe you should.” You breathed out, watching him pull back, his eyes flicking between your eyes and somewhere else.

His other hand slid around your waist, large palm being a source of heat as if the night air wasn’t already warm enough. It was torturous, the way his lips ghosted around your skin, every area he passed felt empty after the heat of his presence left, the way you felt his breath brush her face when he laughed at his own teasing actions.

His hand slid around to your lower back, pulling it forward in an arch as your upper back stayed against the tree. Thomas looked down at you, the very tip of his nose so close to yours that the heat radiating from him felt like he was actually touching you. You bit the inside of your cheek, never good with the whole ‘patience’ thing.

Thomas, on the other hand, could’ve dragged this out all night. But when he met your gaze, the look in your eye let the thought slip from his mind. It was when you whispered some words that didn’t quite stick in his brain against his lips, that’s what got to him. He bent down and connected your lips, the kiss wasn’t a slow, savoring-every-moment type of kiss. It was a hungry, sloppy, impatient kiss that made it seem like he was devouring you.

It was needy and heated, more teeth-clashing and tongue-tangling than anything. His lips were chapped and rough, but then again so we’re yours after two years in the glade.

His lips trailed down your cheek, then your jaw, then right under your jawline, nipping at the surprisingly soft skin. His lips followed your jawline until they were right under your ear, finding a sweet spot you didn’t even know you had.

You breathed out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as your head tilted backwards, hitting the bumpy bark of the tree. To your left was his outstretched arm that he used to hold himself up against a the tree, and to your right was his head, slightly buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered the spot with little nips as kisses. He freehand—the one that was on your lower back—slipped down to the curve of your ass, squeezing all around the plump skin.

“How’s this for getting to know you?” He breathed against your skin.

You bit your lip, just a little, but enough that his scrutinizing gaze caught it. “I think you, uh, you should get to know me just a little better, y’know?” You said, a small lump in the back of your throat that wouldn’t go down.

“Hmm, think I should, huh?” He teased.

“Mhm, yeah… y-you should.” You nodded, teeth gliding over your own bottom lip as you tugged his hair gently so he’d look up at you.

The heel of Thomas’s palm dug into your ass, prompting you to jump up a little. To jump right into his arms. Your thigh hitched up on his waist, his hand gliding from your ass to under your leg, finger tips reach the the inside of your thigh. Your other foot steady on the ground— well, would’ve been steady if you hadn’t stepped on a tree stump. Your footing faltered, twisting your ankle in the process and you pulled from the recently rekindled kiss to wince.

He chuckled and lifted up your other thigh, practically holding you up until you got the hint to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back was pressed into the tree, bare shoulders are partially-bare upper back collecting scratches and green moss smudges.

Thomas didn’t waste anymore time, the fingers of his free hand already sliding down your torso and half under the waistband of your jeans. He only stopped for a brief moment, looking up at you as you nodded back—maybe a little too eagerly.

He didn’t even bother to unbutton them or unzip them for the time being, his fingers twitching with the thought of touching you in mind. While he was just as impatient as you, he still managed to find the will in him to tease you. Two of his veiny fingers swipes over your panties, starting at the beginning of your wetness and dragging them all the way up to your cloth-covered clit. You couldn’t deny nor hide it anymore, you were soaked—rather, your panties were.

“Damn, this all for me? Guess you liked the idea of me proving you wrong, huh?” He taunted.

Your eyes bore into his like you wanted to say something snarky, but you literally could not lie. He felt it. He felt what he did to you. He knew the slight power he had over you—although you were sure he didn’t quite know just how much power he possessed.

Reluctantly, you tenaciously nodded up at him, just a very slight head movement that you hoped he’d miss, but of course he didn’t. You were grateful he didn’t respond, with words anyway, but you could see see the glint in his eye that made you want to kick him, slap him, anything you could to get your point across. But he made you weak in the knees, figuratively and literally since one of his hands was under your ass holding you up, your legs raveled around his waist and connected at his lower back.

At first, when you felt his hand leave your ass, you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed by the loss of touch, or to expect your body to hit the ground. But it didn’t. He had you pinned against the tree, your legs already locked tightly around him, your arms slung around his neck.

His, now free, hand glides around to the front of your thigh, up your stomach (it would’ve gone under your shirt if he didn’t have other plans), over your tank top-covered breasts, fingers stopping momentarily to knead the dough-y flesh, and making their final stop around your throat just below your jaw—palm pressing against your airway loosely, pointer and thumb fingers settling below your ears on either side of your head.

The fingers caressing your sopping panties also became more active; drawing slow lines up and down.

“T-Thomas,” you stuttered, not because he hand was that tight, but simply because it was tight enough to warrant a gasp present in your words. “Don’t tease me.”

You were really in no position to be the one saying commands, but it was the sheer stubborn-confidence that impressed him enough to consider the choked out words. “As you wish.” He spoke, slipping two fingers past your panties, the material bunching to the side, and right into you without any warning. Well, to be fair he did give you a warning, just no time to process before you felt his long, slender fingers gliding against your walls.

“Fuck— Thomas.” You breathed out, your tone a little whiny. You were almost embarrassed at how easily you gave in, how easily you let him get you this way.

He gave your throat one last little squeeze and dropped his hand down to one of the straps on your tank top. He was considering sliding it under your shirt, but then he’d have to go through more trouble to get it off seeing as you were leaned against a tree. So, Thomas decided to take what he knew you’d give, and he tugged at the straps.

You knew your standards were low when consent made your heart swoon, feeling the nervous hot-and-cold sweats rack your body. But being the only girl in the glade, you were glad someone other than your friends was showing you respect…ish.

After seeing your nod, he slid the strap down and you pulled your arm back and through the thing fabric piece, the same was done on the other side. Thomas’s fingers were barely moving, too slow even for his teasing pace, but his brain had a little more focus on what he was trying to do with one hand.

A few seconds later, and you were gasping at the sudden coldness you felt against your pert nipples. It was an odd sensation, the glade was always hot yet when your bare chest was exposed, the air felt cool.

The chilled breeze caused the buds to instantly harden, making something of Thomas’s harden as well. “Shit, angel, no bra?”

You hadn’t worn a bra since today was one of those days— the ones with low energy, restless sleep barely giving you enough stamina to will yourself throughout the day. “No…” you admitted, almost shamefully.

Before you could even think, lips were wrapped around the sensitive buds, a tongue flat as it pressed over the top. You let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a small moan, finger tangling in his hair automatically.

Thomas simply couldn’t leave your other side untreated, so he rolled your other nipple between his fingers while fucking you with the other hand. Every sound you made, whether it be a sigh, a moan, a whimper, a small whine of his name, each and every one of them seemed to be egging him on more. Like small pleas and begs for more of his touch.

And whether you knew it or not, that exactly what they were; your body whining, aching for anything he’d give you, grateful for the plainest stroke of his digits in your wet cunt, or the effortless drag of his smooth tongue across your pebbled nipple.

Somewhere between small praises and straight-up degradation, you manages you end up without any clothes and Thomas’s pretty face between your legs as you stand there against the tree; teeth clenched, thighs trembling, fingers scratching at his scalp leaving a stinging sensation in their wake. It felt good— the burn of your jagged nails against his already sensitive scalp, the sun un-ironically taking part in making sure it would hurt him.

The tree bark dug into your bare back as you simultaneously pushed yourself up on your tip-toes, squirming at the sensation of his tongue on your clit becoming too much, yet tugging his face further between your wobbly thighs with the grip you had on his brown hair.

Thomas decided he liked you best when you were like this; a sweaty, moaning, whimpering, indecisive mess for him— despite only speaking his first words to you less than an hour ago.

And quite frankly, you couldn’t care less. The only thing spurring you on, giving you the shamelessness needed to give yourself up like this was the undying need to cum. He had be fucking edging you this whole damn time, yet you couldn’t complain. Not while he was pleasuring you at least. Your protests came after you didn’t—after the way he’d suck on and swirl his tongue around your swollen bud, getting you right there, only to pull away as you were about to topple over the edge.

It might not have been verbal, but maybe you’d give his hair a particularly harsh yank, or dig your nails into his raw scalp with as much strength as you could muster. Unbeknownst to you, Thomas enjoyed it. He loved the way you whined and squirmed, body begging for a release even if your mouth was too stubborn to communicate it. He loved the pain you inflicted on him, the pricking sensation hurting so bad—yet not enough—that it felt good.

“Did I get you to change your mind yet, Angel?” Thomas spoke against your cunt, lips glistening with you juices, eyes dark as he looked up at you with a captivating stare that you fell prisoner to time and time again.

You bit down on your lip brutally, the discomfort not even phasing you anymore. You were sure your lips would be bruised and possibly bloodied in the morning for more than one reason. “Thomas… please,” There it was. The first real plead that spilled from your lips. Not the desperate whines or frustrated grunts you’d given him earlier, but an actual word that put your need on full display.

And it sounded better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“What’s wrong, princess? Am I not good enough for you?” He cooed, tone mocking your desire so damn condescendingly that if it were anyone else you’d send their skull flying against the maze walls.

But you couldn’t resist, he had you under his spell, wrapped around his finger. And you knew it. You both knew it. “Fuck me, make me cum… just do something for fucks sake!” Your voice held a guise of irritation and rage, but just behind that was the exact whininess that he was looking for.

“I think I like the sound of you begging for me. It’s pretty.” He whispered, whether to himself or you, you couldn’t find it in you to give a fuck anymore.

Thomas stood up, large hands sliding up the sides of your bare body, soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. A whimper slipped from your swollen lips, the feeling of his hands setting your body ablaze, leaving goosebumps only the chilly day’s managed to give you in their wake. You felt like you were sweating buckets, yet the warmth radiating off his wide hands (or maybe you were just small) left the rest of your figure feeling frigid.

His lips wet lips met yours, hand meeting your throat as you gasped lightly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he poked and prodded at your own. You didn’t even have to think about how easily you let him in, you blatantly followed his command no matter what form in came in without a second thought.

Fingers feeling needy, you reached for his belt and he slotted his knee between your thighs, pinning you against the tree for the umpteenth time tonight. However, you didn’t hear a protest or receive a firm look coded with a not-so-hidden message, so you proceeded with your actions, fingers fumbling with the flimsy metal piece until you hear the telltale clanking sound of his belt slithering through the denim loops and clashing against the dirt floor.

His jeans dropped next, nothing to hold them up or keep them in their place as you unzipped them. His shirt had been discarded earlier, just before he got to his knees in front of you, so it was one less article of clothing in your way.

But that didn’t matter, the only one you care about was still on him. Dainty fingers lightly brushed over his bulge, your eyes dropping for just a second to catch a glimpse of his clothed size before you had to tilt your head back up due to the hand holding your throat. It was dark, but your eyes were well adjusted by now; well enough to see the tent his erection formed as you unintentionally teased him.

Your hands were impatient, your whole being was impatient, but you could at least do something about the need to have your hands around him. After practically grabbing his hard-on through his boxers, palming it roughly for just a second, you didn’t even wait to get your hands inside his boxers. Immediately, you tugged your hand up his length, his impressively long length. He groaned, cock already throbbing, twitching at the thought of being buried inside you.

The noise almost took you by surprise, and you were almost proud of yourself for being the cause. You brought your left knee up his thigh, situating it comfortably in the groove of his hip, and pushed down the remaining fabric. His free hand assisted you and helped slide the other end down until he kicked away the item that he’d be searching for in the darkness later.

Digits finding his hardness again as you continued to make out, your thumb carelessly swiped over his slit as you handled his tip, collecting the bead of precum that had you wetter than the brook you were settled by during previous hours. He felt the heat of your fingers disappear, only to return moments later with arousal that couldn’t’ e been just his.

You coated his shaft with your sticky mixture, eliciting a deep groan from the back of Thomas’s throat. Regardless of you having the last few touches that made gave other pleasure, he still wanted to remind you who was really in control.

His fingers tightened around the column of your throat, his body pressing you into the tree even more, hard enough for you to feel each ridge of wood jabbing into your back. You felt his knee pushing up against your cunt, your slick automatically coating his thigh as you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. He smirked—you didn’t see—, your actions appearing needy, so much so, that they were almost pathetic.

“It’s hot as fuck knowing I made you this wet, that I got you to the point where you don’t give a fuck about how pathetic you seem, the only thought in your brain is the desire for pleasure. For me to fuck you, huh?” His words were spat with hot breath waving against your cheek, it was hard not to give in and accept his words.

“Please, Tommy… need you inside me,” until the words came out, you weren’t aware of how shameless they’d be, of how much you sounded exactly like he described. “‘nd I know you do too.” you added shortly after in an attempt to recollect some of your dignity. Didn’t work. He saw right through you.

But what did work what the whine you put on his name, the one that few called him, but only you could have him contemplating between fucking you like a normal person, or fucking you for so long and hard that neither of you could walk straight or have any cum left to give. Obviously there was only one choice in his eyes, but you couldn’t see it. You could only see blown pupils, so wide that just a sliver of brown, lust-tainted color rimmed the pitch-black darkness.

You resumed the position you were in earlier; legs squeezed tight around his waist as if your life depended on it, ankles locked in the back, heels digging into his spine a few inches above his tailbone. Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck, while his hand was settled at the base of yours.

Striving to be a tease, Thomas watched your reactions while he rubbed his tip up and down your wetness, starting from your hole, up to the top of your clit, then back down. Something about the moves, so calculated, so precious, so damn taunting that it almost seemed like he was mocking you, it was all becoming too much. He had been edging you all night—well, enough to to feel like it was all night—that you knew he was nearing the end of his limits as well.

Impatient by nature, Thomas merely gave your throat a warning squeeze before he slipped his tip inside. He may have been ruthless with his teasing, yes, but he wasn’t heartless. He waited, kept his hips still against his own will until you nodded or squeezed his hair each time you wanted him to push in just a smidge further. He praised and affirmed you with words you didn’t even process since the only thing your mind could focus on was the contrast of pleasure with a little bit of sting. You wanted nothing more for him to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking your stupid—and so did he—, but you decided it best for you to take it slow. At first.

Once his hips were flush with yours, hard cock filling you in ways you didn’t even know existed, you adjusted your legs around his waist, shifting until the discomfort went away mostly. You didn’t even nod or give and indignation before you bucked your hips against his, causing a sigh to fall from his pink, kiss-bitten lips, while a light moan fell from yours. He took that as his sign you were ready, and he slowly pulled his hips from yours with a semi-gentle test thrust first before he saw you were okay, then he picked up his pace in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.” He groaned against your neck, hot breath symbolizing a warning before his lips were all over the soft skin.

You whimpered, your hands automatically lacing in his hair and tugging at the roots, nails occasionally scratching at his scalp. You don’t know how long your hand stayed like that before realizing you needed something better to grasp, to hold on and cling to like your fate was dependent on it.

One are tucked under his, the other following suit, and soon both hands were clawing down his back, the feeling prompting Thomas to pound away harder. Teeth against your neck let you know that you’d have to wear your hair down for the next few days, and possibly skip meals at the homestead to avoid being seen as well. Even so, you didn’t care right now. You were to wrapped up in the way his fucked into you, mercilessly pounding away at you pussy, the wet squelching sounds coming from where the two of you were connected absolutely sinful.

You knew the gladers had gone to sleep however long ago, but you also knew that a few had a hard time sleeping. Thank god Chuck had knocked out before you came out here.

The threat of getting caught is what caused you to bury your face in his shoulder, head leaning against his outstretched arm that was holding the tree for support. You nips and suck at the skin of his collarbone right where it connects to his shoulder, albeit much weaker and definitely less effort put in than him, but it gives you something to do, along with practically gouging your uneven nails down his sweaty back, to keep your mind off the seething moans that threaten to rip from your throat.

After awhile of hearing you go silent and feeling the pressure of both your lips and fingers on his skin increase, Thomas grows annoyed with your lack of sound. You feel his hand leave your throat, but you don’t exactly process it, your brain overwhelmed with too many things to worry about the loss of touch, but you do feel where it ends up. Your head is abruptly yanked back, yet somehow as gently as possible although is still leaves a pained sensation. Thomas’s fingers were in between the weaves of your—now very loose and incredibly messy—braid, forcing you to look at him as he fucks you. He seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“Don't muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I'm fucking you.” Without a barrier to block your noises, you let out a moan at his words alone. And then everything comes crashing down. You give up on trying to quiet yourself, only having enough left in you to chase that feeling that leaves you whining incoherent words that maybe he understands, digging and clawing at any available surface you can get you dainty little fingers on (which is most likely his back or shoulder), and letting yourself go completely—letting him take care of you.

And boy does he know how to take care of you. For someone you’ve never spoken a word to until tonight, he knows how to fuck you right. He knows how to have you in his arms, body practically limp and a deadweight which only impales you more on his dick. And when he hears that you’ve given in to more than just his one request by letting your jaw fall slack, any moans or whimpers just free to waltz out, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, voice deep and slightly raspy; “Good girl.”

He feels the way your fingernails grips his shoulders harder, possibly hard enough to draw blood, and the way your already-tight walls clench around him even more. Something in his mind clicks for him that doesn’t for you, probably because your too busy with the way he fills you up so damn well his tip kisses your cervix each time you come back down on him and he fucks back up.

“You like being called a good girl, huh? You like being told how good you feel around me, being praised for doing what I say like the good girl you are?” He knows what he’s doing at this point. But that was stop you from enjoying it nonetheless.

“F—yeah, fuck, I do.” You agree with what little sanity to have left, mustering a nod that almost spends every ounce of energy.

Your eyes have him in a trance; watery, pupils blown, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes he could ever think of. Except he knew you weren’t innocent.

“I bet no one else fucks you like this, huh, angel? No one else gives you princess treatment because they’re too busy trying to find a way to get in your panties to even think about treating you right. But a part of you likes it, don’t you?” You merely whined, words failing you as he smirked and kept going. “You like the fact that half the guys here probably jerk off to the thought of you when they’re alone, think of you as some little slut that everyone gets a turn with in their minds. The glade’s own whore, hmm?”

“F-Fuck, Thomas,” you whimper, the feeling his words give you turning into physical pleasure, not just for yourself, but for Thomas as well when he feels your warm walls squeezing around his shaft.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it; just whoring out and fucking every guy in this place? But your so damn innocent—too damn innocent, it’s why half the guys here can’t seem to get their mind off you.” He grunts between thrusts, as if his hips slamming into yours punctuates each word. “Don’t worry, after tonight I think enough people around here will have learned who got to fuck you. I’ll treat you right, princess.”

Both hands clenched at whatever they can, and Thomas feels the crescent-shaped nail marks already imbedding themselves in his shoulder and nose of his neck.

You were getting undeniably closer, and you were afraid that he might edge you again. Hell, you were afraid that you let him have that much power over you. In spite of your efforts, your own voice adding to the ringing in your ears as you bucked your hips downwards— if even possible with the force he had you pressed against the tree with. “Don’t stop… please, please don’t stop, Tommy.” You begged, pathetically desperate for him to finally let you release.

“Only if you keep making those pretty little sounds, angel.” And you did; effortlessly obeying his commands, when in reality it was inevitable that your sounds escaped at some point. You just didn’t hold back at all. At least you didn’t talk to very many people, otherwise they would’ve been suspicious of your barely-there voice if the hadn’t already heard you screaming the night before.

His thrusts became irregular, and at first you thought he was going to tell you that you didn’t do well enough for him, seize yet another orgasm from you like he had been doing all night. What you didn’t realize was that he was slowing down to edge himself, not wanting to cum to early or before you did.

Thomas decided you wouldn’t mind a few scratches on your back, maybe a few splinters, ‘cause it sure as hell looked like you wouldn’t give a damn right now, so he took his supporting hand off the tree and encased it around your throat, admiring the way his hand seemed to swallow you whole. His free hand fled to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud as you cried out his name. It was mindless, you hadn’t even realized it. That’s what made it so fucking hot.

Time and time again, you continued to impress him with how easily you could be controlled, completely fucked out to the point you only knew his name and the word ‘please’. “Atta girl. That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking you like this.” You whimpered his name again, the word simply rolling off your tongue without a thought. He wasn’t even sure if you said it because you followed orders so well, or if it was really the only thing you could say.

“T-Thomas, shit—fuck, I’m g—” your sentence was left unfinished since you couldn’t breathe, your lungs on fire just like the rest of your skin. It could’ve been from the way Thomas’s hand was unconsciously restricting your airway a little too much, though, once he noticed he eased up. Either way, he got your message loud and clear. And he could feel his own release brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“Please… please don’t stop this time. I-I can’t take it anymore… need to cum.” You whined between shallow breaths before he could even speak.

His pace and force picked up to almost inhuman speeds, basically fucking you into the tree behind you. “I won’t, I promise.”

As if the words didn’t register, mindless pleas were pouring from you, “I have to—’m so close, Tommy, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too, alright? So your gonna be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” It wasn’t until his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves he was previously circling, did his words finally sink in.

Along with his gentle demand came your orgasm that you didn’t know had been so close the whole time. Your walls enveloped him so tight he was sure his dick would slip out, but it didn’t. It stayed inside your warm, velvety wetness, twitching but thrusting sloppily throughout your high as his neared.

You were seeing stars, and you were pretty sure they weren’t the ones in the night sky above you. Your nails dug so harshly into his chest and back that your fingers aches, and you could only imagine the number you’d done on him. The feeling was euphoric, sure you’d never come down from the drunken-high feeling. Your thighs shook, muscles spasming as your nerves felt like they were frying at the slight overstimulation he was giving you.

Feeling you cum around him, his cock twitched inside you, soon giving into the demands of your velvety warmth and wet squelching sounds. “Fuck, shit—such a good girl, angel… such a good fucking girl for me.” He moaned out, his voice the softest it’d been yet, but still somehow possessing the same roughness as before.

You felt a hot-warmth gush inside you, your face already buried deep in his shoulder again as you physically could not keep your head up. “Just for you.” You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled to the brim, his hand coming off your throat to slide around the back of your neck in a somewhat-comforting hold. The feeling of being taken care of.

[orviposition]

one of the many things i hate orv for is making me be so dependant on yoo joonghyuk getting a happy ending— it's all kim dokja's fault i swear i wish for it so bad. the thought of this man not being able to be at peace and happy in a world where his friends and family are there without the scenarios, makes me mad with a grief i didnt know i was capable of feeling for a 'character' 🥲

(what's also funny is that yoo joonghyuk's happy ending, where his friends and family are happy and well, kim dokja is also there standing besides them. But kim dokja cannot even imagine a world where he can be together with them without 'failing' and atoning. 💀✌️) a happy ending for yoo joonghyuk would be one with you as well kim dokja you fool

aughh anon the entire content of this ask has been on my mind for months. do we have some sort of a mind link be honest. also this will have spoilers for epilogue and side story below

aghh kdj wishing for and working so hard for yjh's happiness truthfully translated into us wishing for the happiness of that sunfish too I'd say. 1863 abandoned lives and worlds existing solely to meet his sponsor and find the reason he exists, which is also linked to said sponsor, made him feel liberated and at peace. a feeling which only kdj, said sponsor, took issue with. his guilt is so huge, so strong, he cannot fathom that yjh will not resent him after having his tragedy be used as someone's sustenance.

after kdj split himself into 51 and 49 in order to atone and sustain the world in which yjh and the rest of kimcom will continue to live, he'd already started imagining how their lives would be. 49 and yjh would search for tls123, 49 would read hsy's novel, 49 would attend ljh's graduation etc. what he didnt count for was kimcom regressing to get him back.

after the group regression, yjh says that his story has already ended now that his reader is no longer there. some time later, astronaut yjh sets on a space journey to spread orv and piece kdj together except that he fully expected to die and the mission to fail because just like kdj had learned to live from him, yjh no longer knows how to live without kdj anymore. in fact before sp and 999 gang save him and biyoo appears yjh fully expects that his -- will be 'death' (as if kdj would allow that smh).

after nearly a hundred years he descends into lhh's worldline. i think most of us know that lhh is 49 kdj's reincarnation by now, what i didnt catch the first time around however was that yjh and lhh met right after lhh considered committing suicide (lee "i have no trauma" hakhyun is a fucking liar) but chickened out in the end

a few thousands more years pass and yjh returns to the 1864th worldline. he talks more, he smiles easier, he no longer cares what his -- will be. and hes let kdj choose for himself whether or not he wants to return. he has been kdj's reader for thousands of years, he Understands what it means to get the will to survive by reading someone's story.

and in the side story he wants to take that choice back. he'll bring kdj back himself. cuz hes obsessed. hsy failed so now is his turn. except that his turn hasnt started yet. so who knows.

anw tldr yeah you cannot divorce kdj from yjh's (happy) ending. if any number yjh hears abt kdj in whatever way shape or form he'll get curious abt him. 41, for example. even after excluding lhh, 41 got curious abt kdj. hsy shows him a happy memory of our yjh which included kdj and 41 fucking collapsed (i become more excited abt the side story the more it progresses) and lost consciousness. it was such a strong memory of kdj and kimcom eating yjh's cooking and kdj saying how he cooks so well and he should bring more beef next time that hsy described it as yjh dying from happiness. yjhs -- is kdj related in one way or another. kdj just has to Get It that yjh cannot be happy without him

[doomzday-zone]

hey sorry it's me again (<- girl who needs to go to sleep) urrhm ok walks into ur office with a stack of papers it's me secretary over apologizer

anywah rum um um th hey hi so uh looks around can weeee talk about the really big theme of nowhere to hide in the book and the game interchangeably like um. um. hi. okay so I'm literally laying in bed right now complete darkness like oh wow the characters oh wow oh wow smacks into a wall face first. and um um

okay like I just feel like god this thing with like.. yeagh.. there really is nowhere to hide from your parents ❤ that's literally the ultimate thing being a child like you can't just LEAVE and that's actually such a scary ass theme and the way the house keeps getting put on more and more lockdown in the game is like This is so alarming ❤ BUT that doesn't happen (or isnt stated) in the book, the difference in the book since u havent read it is just that oz doesn't leave for a few days because he's scared and can hear the. the thing standing outside his door all the time and it's like (steps up to microphone) WOW I LOVE THE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN LITERALLY NOT BEINF ABLE TO JUST LEAVE AND THE MENTAL STATE OF NOT BEING ABLE TO Just Leave um and the way you run out of places to go in the game is so like ohhfmygodd sorry it's just really good like the game feels like it's suffocating that boy like u gotta get out of here because soon there will physically be no exit !! and the way the hiding minigames work ooogg ooohhh hi hey um hi sorry this game is written so beautifully it makes me physically nauseous only good fnaf game ever. uh but the hiding games not being designed like traditional hiding mechanics in games like holding a door shut or something, but stuff like oh keep the spiders away because it feels more like SORRY KID THERE'S NOTHING THAT YOU CAN DO OTHER THAN SIT THERE AND PRAY havr fun!!! ob my god head in hands like You can try to stop the toys or not breathe so scared but you can't physically hold a door shut because you're too little 🙁🙁😞😞😞😢 this game is so alarming I hate it not really but it's like ohntmmgdos and and and and hi hey okay so more with nowhere to hide like

I said this in my insane tags on that one post but the way that every single adult is like Oh you're so fucking strange weird little kid causing trouble . like it's not only like he can't tell anyone because he'd sound crazy but the universe being predisposed to everyone not listening to children about anything ever is like I feel like I've been punched in the face thanks like directly in the jaw my teeth r on the floorrr

like ugh I h h RATTLES BARS

um and and and looks around :c I can say more things but I just yeagh..

YEAAAAAAAA ARGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEFUCMING. AHHHHHH !!!!!!! thats smth i REALLY REALLY like abt into the pit like you REALLY feel like ur put into the shoes of a kid here you can only do so much while trying and experiencing shit wayyyy bigger than yourself, n it just elevates the horror bc like, obv ur oarent/someone you love being replaced by an imperfect impostir is already a scary notion. n being a CHILD TOO????? like fuckkkkk man your options r dwindling. n the way kuds r treated in society n shit as well as eveything else, oswalds just a kid, hes in sixth grade like?????? how do you deal w this???????? theres a fucking EVIL ANIMAL in your house. the world is already si scary as achild w/o all this but yhis maies it ten yimes worse, AND your home isnt even safe either. the amount if stress n trauma this kid experiences in a work week is fuxking insane hashtag justice for ozwald gotdamn.

AD AND i still xant stop thinking about the fat like. oswald is forced to relive the trauma of the events n shit that transpired a freddys, from the child victims at the pizzeria, to Michaels and the crying childs in his own home. smth smth themes of generational trauma n whatever its insane my brian explodes into ten million bloody chunks.

n what u said abt the book..... man........ imagine being holed up in ur room for days in end bc of The Thing on the other end of the door. like LITERALLY FNAF 4 SHIT GODDD. oswald reliving the trauma of the entire fnaf franchise in five nights like: INSANEEE. CRAZYYYYY.

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

how are you able to celebrate spirituality without feeling omniscient judgement of your every action? i realize that sounds like an accusatory question out the door LOL but i definitely don't mean it that way. it's moreso like...i spent so much of my life until recently feeling like i wasn't allowed to enjoy or be myself in my own privacy without feeling like i was being watched and weighed. i don't actively practice or pursue spirituality at this time, but i was raised into some incredibly unhealthy christian dynamics, which i think can definitely find relation in my prior mentioned struggles. even so, when it feels healthy and of your own volition, do you feel as though this is a struggle?

i love this thoughtful question, thankyou..putting under read more due to my lengthy answer x]

for me, ive mentioned before but i was raised by atheist parents. so as i built my own opinions about god, i was never set on the heaven/hell dichotomy, i never felt that god has this weirdly specific list of things u can and cant do. i feel that god wants us to be imperfect & make mistakes so that our souls can grow n expand towards our highest purpose thru many lifetimes of lessons.

that feeling of surveillance, i actually started to worry about it a lot after my dad died, even tho i had no real concept of spirituality at this point cus i was a kid. I just like, started to perceive that he saw everything, and since i was being rebellious teen at the time i felt a lot of guilt for years. Altho once i started learning more i began to feel that angels will never judge you, only love & understand.

Still i try rly hard to live with integrity. and im no angel but i strive to be the best version of Me. & a big part of that, imo, is acting "right" behind closed doors. for example, if someone is talking badly to me about a friend behind their back, am i going to stand up for them? or just let it slide because they're not there to hear it? small things like this may seem like nothing in the moment but they cld blow up in ur face later n u wish u just did the kind thing. i believe small lessons like this will keep repeating until ur soul learns.

one time many years ago i withdrew like $100 from an atm then just totally spaced out & walked away before i grabbed my money. the next person ran after me like "oh my god you forgot your money!" , i was so stunned. like this stranger fully couldve just walked away with a free $100 & i wldnt of even noticed until later. there was no prize waiting for them by doing the right thing. he just did it w no apprehension.

it shldnt be about trying to appease god, but earnestly trying to help & empower your fellow man. not out of guilt or shame, or fear of punishment, but out of the kindness in your heart, pure love. to me, god is just love, the trials are for the purpose of love, so i dont stress too much abt feeling watched. it makes me feel less lonely in a way.

thanks again for the question and i'm sorry about the trauma from your upbringing :( i hope u can heal and please dont put too much pressure on yourself to be perfect, there is no punishment coming for you, whatever you're doing right now is exactly where you;re supposed to be. <3

[serotoninny]

Hey- hi. My sister and I grew up playing Super Paper Mario constantly. I would absolutely love to hear any and all thoughts you would like to share pls and thank you!!

HELLO! HELLO HI!

wanted to start off by saying Holy Shit!! spm was a video game me and my sister also played growing up!! we never beat it back then but recently she came home and got me hooked on it again and we played it all the way thru. we also did fun little voices for each character I got to be dimentio so that was very fun ^__^ i think Objectively its not a very hard game (which is why we were able to beat it LMAO) but what it lacks there it makes up for in STORY and super strong characters and i adore it so

IF ANYONE!! ANYONE wants to respond to anything ive said in this word soup of a post PLEASE DO!!! in the tags in the comments i just like seeing ppl talk abt whatever the hell about spm. Head canons Theories You name it

this is . a little scattered around. u do not have to read all of this but thank you for giving me an excuse to talk abt spm VVV

first of all themes of love being the answer make me wanna bawl my eyes out and i gotta be real i did tear up at the end of the game when blumiere and timpani have bounding through time ost playing and then walk out of frame. CHEFS KISS. lovely. i like how each chapter the gang goes thru has its own unique little set of townspeople and even thru little bits of dialogue u are left wanting to defeat the chaos heart even more because you dont want any of them to die YK? HEAVENS TO BETSY! THE DIALOGUE OPTIONS FOR RIGHT BEFORE CHAPTER 8 FOR ALL THE PEOPLE IN FLIP/FLOPSIDE?? SHIT HURTED. npc reactions to all the shit going on were so good

one thing i WISH happened tho was. mario and luigi Sibling Love (i mean this platonically i want to specify Just in case there are any weirdos out there) Helps Save The World. i get the whole count bleck mansion part where everyone started sacrificing themselves to save the others which means they care for one another n whatnot which is good great and fantastic However i think it wouldve been COOL to see the whole gang esp the two opposing forces of Mario (prophesized hero color red) and luigi (prophesized Man In Green to contain the chaos heart and destroy the world) contribute to the reformation of the pure heart like some sorta balance between light n dark . BUT ITS FINE i love the game anyway because its probably the longest bowser luigi mario and peach have ever been on the same team

and completely unrelated, the entire premise of luigi being the harbinger of a great world ender is ALWAYS a joy. a fun little recurring gag if you will. like i cant believe this is not the only time he was the vessel for a great evil like what is up with that. every day i think abt that one luigi post abt how he's Doomed By The Narrative TM to be the Evil Twin Brother but he just chooses not to be. never not thinking abt that ever. hes so haunted by like literally everything got separated and brainwashed fought his brother aided in the destruction of the sammer guy world Died went to hell KOed spm satan got revived became GOD then saved the world. and he is some middle aged man in striped socks

MR L. GOD. that fucking guy. hes so lame. i like him so much. his theme goes SO hard in the silliest way imaginable. and i also like how even when he is brainwashed its kinda obvious he still wants mario around (see: brobot, the replacement brother). they fr tapped into luigis need to be useful and used that as is motivation to work for the count. yeowch. mr l to me is just luigi but Lots of parts of him just locked up and forgotten (plus a little minor bit of oh i dont know straight up brain manipulation, nastasia is a force 2 be reckoned with fr) Duno if im making sense here . anyway mr l is so so so hilarious to me because his one liners are so so dumb and i think the gag abt no one recognizing him is FUNNY (EVEN IF i think at least mario SHOULDVE recognized him but WHATEVS).

all of count blecks minions are . SUCH a fun little group. and while dimentio didnt give a fuck about them i still love his dynamic as the court jester whos a little bit of a bitch. the origins of them joining the group are very interesting because ochunks mimi and nastasia had been at their lowest when bleck recruited them and dimentio was like. let me in your emo band. ochunk's warrior code is something i think about a lot. he doesnt got a lot behind the eyes but hes got values he sticks to and i like that a lot in a character. him and mimi do spa days

bleck as a character makes me wanna chew through my walls. in a good way. guys who are slipping and dont want to get back up and bringing everything else down with them are fun and that is all. bonus! he still gets to be Somewhere quiet after the story's over

dimentio has to be my fave of the goons (not counting mr l). not surprising because hes just. so. ...... He is the Way That He Is. his little similes are so stupidly funny for no reason and i think being a Silly Guy and also a Guy With Ulterior Motives are the two funest traits a character can have. His ambiguous past is so interesting like yes bitch hide behind the mask keep cards up your sleeve dont let them know your next move!! something interesting i read somewhere was that. even after luigi the chaos heart and dimentio were separated that there were bits still mixed up between them, linking them not only prophetically but on the atomic level is a headcanon im tucking close into my heart . terrifying as it is super fucking rad !! luigi cannot escape the harbinger of doom allegations

dimentio and luigis entire dynamic is the best thing ever. because dimentio is a goddamn weirdo and luigi is. and i cannot stress this enough. JUST a fucking GUY. luigi is like "ill stop you you ne'er do well!" and dimentio responds with "im killing us both<3ciao!" why does every luigi villain wanna be no children mountain goats with SO BAD. they should keep doing it

god. the way mario is the mc and barely has a role in most of the story other than being The Hero of the Light Prognosticus is both a little annoying and also kinda sick /pos. annoying because mario is one of my faves and i want him to participate in the story more (not really a diss on the writing i just like him) but also kinda sick because . the way everyone in the game talks abt the hero from the prophecy is so. soooooooooooo. god. like everyone in favor of all worlds Not Ending preparing THOUSANDS of CENTURIES in advance just for mario to arrive. Pixls were locked in boxes and hidden away WAITING for him and its like. if he could talk back. i wanna know how he thinks abt all this. because throught the entire story You as the player kinda fuck things up for people in pursuit of the pure hearts. and mario cant rly SAY anything abt it cus its not Really his story, but MAN. what i would give for a little development on his end of the lineup during a few points like 'wilting' king croacus, figuring out squirps is now orphaned because he had to stay alive long enough to help the heros, Luvbis Entire Deal, and figuring out mr l was luigi all along. SIGH

i dont know much about the pixl war, but all of that lore is so cool to look into. ive got like surface level knowledge. even then i only rly care abt the history when im thinking abt the personalities of the pixls themselves. cus like they get their little moment in the spotlight and then they Never speak Again. dottie and cudge and fleep are some of the more memorable ones for me and i wish it was possible to hear more of them. but alas

squirps. :( in my heart. in my heart and soul. bowser takes squirps under his wing. forms an alliance with his kingdom (assuming. squirps takes over from where his mom left off). peach would of course also form an alliance with him. IDK. squirps is the Only One out of every major side character in the game who didnt really get a happy ending. while not everyone NEEDS one i think he deserves one. and in my perfect world he is being guided by two more experienced rulers (bowser isnt doing much in terms of teaching him good diplomacy but he sure as hell is getting him to hang out with kids his age like Jr).

bowser was so funny this whole game. love when evil guys get domesticated a little. thats all about him

PEACH. PRINCESS PEACH. god i love her. the way she was the only person to resist nastasias brainswashing AND her fucking umbrella is the most cracked defense in the World. blowing a kiss to the wind. for peach

ok so i cant think of anything else to say and i havent proofread this. if YOU, dear viewer, love super paper mario i need you to never shut the fuck up ever. there are like 12 of us

[sovonight]

I'm about to start BG2, which of the 3 paths for the Xan mod do you think is most in character for him?

well it's the same author as his mod for bg1, so they should all be in character for him, right…? 😒

idk. with the way i prefer to read him, i would guess that the friendship path is the least infuriating, and then his bonded romance, and then his nonbonded romance. i haven't even played his friendship path in bg2, but his romance paths are just. urgh.

his bonded romance has too many opportunities for sex at the expense of actually being able to talk to him, and the times you do get to talk to him, more material than i'd like is recycled from the first game bc of charname's possible amnesia, which detracts from any sense of familiarity/intimacy that the few rare good interactions with him provide. i guess one could consider this path to be in character if you think he's allo and was just too depressed to be super horny in bg1, but bg1 easily let me read him as acespec (his colors are literally purple and gray and he'll only enter a full romance during the timeline of the game if you're able to bond with him in a way that transcends any physical intimacy?? it writes itself) and it's like he stopped being fully himself once bg2 rolled around. another thing i hate is he has moments where you can literally step all over his boundaries, and even if he does speak up against you, you can still demand that he do it, and he'll just do it against his will. sure "devotion" and whatever, but that's not his brand of devotion--it used to be that if you willfully crossed his boundaries, he'd just end the interaction

his nonbonded romance is... it's just kind of tough to get through. the premise is "there was a spark but it was never followed through on," but it kind of assumes that charname broke things off in bg1 (even though it could've just as easily been xan who broke it off, depending on how you played), so it's more like "xan still has feelings for you and flirts with you but he's also disgusted and horrified by you so he holds you at arm's length the whole game." also he never dies in this path, he only dies in the original bonded path, so they're basically saying he gets to live if you just reject him in the first game and change your mind in the second and let him treat you badly until he apologizes and then all is well forever. like??? there's a convo later down the line where you can comment on how absolutely difficult it was to get to this point where he actually openly loves you, and one of the options is "well the difficulty makes getting here worth it," and to that i say no, absolutely not. what makes this path even worse is that you also get more Xan Lore (tm) here than in the bonded path--there's a whole story he tells that you never get to hear otherwise, and his lengthy apology for treating you badly had more thought put into it than most of the conversations in the bonded path. not to be like "it's so unfair :'((" but to be a bg1 xan romancer and not get an equivalent amount of thought put into him in the bonded path?? am i being punished for loving him too early???

i get the feeling that the author was trying to replicate the drama of his romance path in bg1, to make him just as "difficult" to love, but i didn't find him difficult in bg1 at all--he's just traumatized and fearful of loss, and thinks himself that he's difficult to love. his appeal in bg1 was his compassion and understanding and sorrow for the unfair situation charname is in--and now you're telling me that he's become part of that unfairness? sure, he didn't know she was a bhaalspawn for most of bg1, but he saw how she suffered, and has traveled with her long enough to know and respect her as a person. after his first knee-jerk reaction of horror, wouldn't he change his mind rather quickly? having him be genuinely apprehensive abt charname being a bhaalspawn in his bg2 nonbonded romance path walks that backwards and actively undermines his bonded romance path. in the nonbonded path, he says outright that he would be ok with charname being a bhaalspawn if they were already bonded, which isn't a great look bc it comes off as either "i can only find it in my heart to be ok with you if i'm literally chained to you" or "maybe if you didn't end my romance early in bg1 i wouldn't be disgusted by you now". what exactly is good about hearing that???

like props to the author for finding a way to make him involved in the plot and accessible to new players, but 90% of my gripes come from the allowances made to make that possible. he doesn't need an arc, or a storyline, or to be involved in the plot, he should just be in the sequel to hang out

tl;dr, take the friendship path, or even better don't recruit him at all. yes, i personally can't bring myself to play anything but the bonded romance path in bg2 bc it makes me sad to not be special to him in-game, but you! you can be free! friendzone him and have a stronger will than i!

[rawrtriesagain]

Long post incoming idk how to do Read More on mobile, sorry. Tldr: just a post abt my writing as usual and stuff about my interest in lwa (nothing crazy)

I know I talk abt my old fuckin fics all the fuckin time (like Jesus theyre old enough to be considered toddlers now) but anyway this is my vent blog and y’all will never hear the end of it so guess what still has an absolute GRIP over my mind after 3 years

Its forest of arcan- im jk its dreamer of stars lmaooo. I reread it right now for the funsies after months of forgetting abt it, and each time I read it I think “surely I am over this story and can move on with my life” and like the first half of the story its like yea I kinda am over it haha but then the second half just obliterates the thoughts and runs me over and I just lay in my bed and contemplate my life and go into like a State of Emotions and simply have to talk about it (but it also could be because its 4am at the time of writing this)

I do think it mostly has to do with nostalgia though. Truthfully I’m probably not able to write smth like that again because it was 100% written completely on emotion and quite actually everything bad Diana was feeling in the story was smth i was also going through so it was easy to… write a vent and disguise it as a fic LOL. But I was also running on the high of being in love with my best friend which also really easily translated to everything going on in the fic blah blah nobody remembers it but me so this means nothing to anybody and im being cringe and gay on main (not even my main)

ANYWAY the point of my babbling here is that honestly I miss having that intense amt of emotions that would spur that level of creative writing? Like yea forest of arcana (not updated in over a year) is fun and all but it definitely isnt written on a personal level like dreamer was. I also just genuinely miss writing lol and its like ok bitch why dont you write then and then its like good question why dont i?? I probably still enjoy writing more than i do drawing and i know my blogs say otherwise but the two mediums are both definitely different outlets for my life. Maybe i would change my mind the day my art is actually good tho 😛

Im laffing rn seeing me talk abt this “deep” different outlets of life cause like when u think abt it im also literally just Currently describing little witch fanfic and fanart since thats all i do LOL. Not that theres anything wrong with lwa being my Muse of course, but it just adds humor in whatever the emo hell im going on about

Another side sad mini vent but i dont think im as into lwa as i used to be which also waters down my interests in doing things, but im literally not interested in any other media or fandom rn either so lwa stays my hyperfixation. Plz dont be alarmed lol im not saying im NOT into lwa anymore since diana is still a fuckin god to me like 10/10 chara design and vibes, but its definitely not as strong as it was when i first joined the fandom 3 years ago. And you know what maybe it has to do with me not watching little witch academia in full in those entire three years after i first watched it lmao. Most of the friends ive made in the fandom are pretty much gone too which is sad but is what it is. Sometimes i get a burst of seratonin when i think about smth diakko and definitely like now when i reread my fics i also remember the Emotions i had for these Gays and it like floods back for a bit like a buff.

I think something im very interested in for both the spark of writing and also the revitalization for my love for diakko is that i wanna do like a oneshot slice of life series for diakko. Just something easy, cute, subjectively funny, and a vibe. I still fantasize abt diakko shenanigans even if mundane and i wish i could also capture it more in my art but im not at that level yet, so writing it is. First i probably need to rewatch lwa in full since ive forgotten most everything except for key diana scenes haha oopsie And sucy world episode that was a good fuckin episode.

Anyway thanks for reading this far if you did lol sorry for the LONG ASS NONSENSE POST. Sometimes i see how i type in my blog and to people and compare it to my writing and its like where the hell did my comprehensive english go. Sorry if this was just hard to read from the lack of grammar and punctuation but thats showbiz anyway stay tuned for the next diana content ttyl bffl rofl xD zomg

[dungeonbf]

ohhh that’s so coool!!!! xenogender blogs are the backbone of our society I love gathering xenos tbh and ppl make the most gorgeous flags it’s awesome! that’s so cool that ur boyfriend does that! anti-centrism probably only lets you follow his xenogender blog. u and maybe ancom. I think ancom wld appreciate it. bahahaha… ur relationship is so beautiful & silly /positive it’s like. when ur right hand man wants to know all of you. like.. “no one knows me. no one knows who i am” vs “i want to know you. let me meet you.” ykwim? it’s something SOOO intricate & personal, I think.

BTW YES WE PLAY COD TOGETHER! i think if we ever played modern warfare authright wld get jealous bc chrislib wld be like “oh könig is so fine.” and he’d be like “he’s okay. he’s not a REAL man.” and chrislib wld be like “doesn’t matter. i want him.” and authright knows it’s just her being thirsty over a videogame character but he’s still jealous <\3.

chrislib, while playing cod: I love a man in uniform lmao authright, the next day, in full military gear: hello. chrislib: lord forgive me, authright, what in god’s name do you have on?

outside of cod & videogames in general, i think they’d both enjoy soccer. can’t explain why but it feels right that authright wld like that sport, not to play but to watch. he rooted for germany during the world cup yes but he probably has beef with psg just like I do. he wld look cute in a german jersey.. smh…. (chrislib cried uncontrollably out of joy on the floor when argentina won and messi got his worldcup trophy /hj) but anyways, they both share interests in wars except authright focuses on ww2 and chrislib reads abt ww2 & the cold war (& the russian revolution). i think authright wld focus on the data / numbers of ww2 and chrislib enjoys discussing the more psychological / social side of matters, the less concrete aftermath like the way ppl thought of the war during & after. also he likes looking at the military weapons.. they wld be pretty civil when talking abt it I think just bc they’re both genuinely interested even if it’s for diff reasons.

MY HEADCANONS FOR AUTHRIGHT HAHA glad u asked

he cannot dance at all but i like to think he has a good singing voice that’s genuinely enjoyable. I wld love to sing a duet with him one day.. he’s got that like frank sinatra / paul anka type of voice

he watches reality tv like those trashy reality tv shows, he’s all on em. he convinces chrislib to watch them too so that he’s not alone

I think he wld want a doberman dog, he reminds me of dobermans and maybe him & chrislib adopt one but I imagine he’d like them

likes getting his nails painted but keeps his nails in good condition regardless of whether or not their painted..

he enjoys poetry, reading & occasionally writing it. “classic” writing. I think he’d even look into translated versions of poetry in other languages like portuguese or arabic (which, from my limited experience, both have EXTREMELY romantic poetry out there)

he can swim really well. chrislib can barely swim, barely.

— @boykujou

okay hear me out.. i know this seems unlikely but… authright writing you poetry. i feel like he’s not super poetic and he deems expressing his feelings effeminate but he has a “moment of weakness” as he calls it and he starts just pouring out all his feelings for you on the page. it’s rough, unpolished, but incredibly sincere. his love for you spills out in verses, each stanza more romantic than the last… yeah… just my thoughts.

i also think he’s a pretty good listener when he wants to be — he’ll eagerly, happily listen as you talk about the russian revolution. he likes hearing you talk, yk, your voice is soothing to him!! he finds comfort in you!! i feel like since he doesn’t have a super close bond with the other extremists, he gets lonely easily and being able to be with you is a real comfort to him!!!

also i hope you know what you said about anti-centrism is making me lose my mind… like yes i’m jris right hand man, whatever, but i’m also the only one who truly understands him, yk?? i think the feeling is mutual, too, cuz an-acc isn’t superrr close with the other wacky ideologies or extremists (except ancom, i think, ancom is me but also my best friend forever at the same time.) so being able to truly confide in someone is a rarity — so having that connection with anti-centrism is even more special, yk what i’m saying? AND YES i’m the only one (except ancom) who knows about the blog. it’s our little secret :3

[assimilates]

uhhhh ok gonna talk abt mother death / parent death here don't mind me

my mom would be 65 this week... her bday was jan 3rd and she died on this day 5 years ago. she had barely turned 60 but she was in a coma so she didn't really turn 60. i miss her so much. it rained today just like it rained on her death day. i think about her so often and this week, for whatever reason, has been especially hard. maybe because it's been 5 years. not sure. i had to call out of work on her birthday after speaking to my therapist.

i just wish she could see what i've accomplished in these 5 years. i'm living on my own. i have a boyfriend who cherishes me and treats me like a queen. i have a job. i'm moving to canada. i'm starting a new life w my boyfriend. i have friends who care about me.

with the good is the bad. my roommates are abusive (and no, not because i'm told i have to dishes). one of them is especially so when she's drunk. it hurts me. my boss even wants me to move. but i can't. i'm waiting and saving to move to canada. it can't happen fast enough.

she'd be so proud of me, i know that. everyone's told me that. it's only natural.

i just wanna hug her. hold her hand. tell her i love her while she's watching some real housewives. every time i hear certain songs on the radio i think of her. anytime a celeb she likes dies i think of her. i think of her constantly. how we'd say the same words like a prayer every night. praying to see each other again. we've said those words like a mantra as far back as i can remember. just so that if we died in our sleep or if the world ended, we knew we went to bed w love in our hearts.

i miss hearing her say those words. i miss her taking care of me when i get sick. i miss her smell. i miss the way she'd laugh. the way she'd smile. the way she'd tell me she's proud of me when i did well in school. i never graduated. i wanted her to see me graduate and i regret not doing so every day. i should've known, you know? any year could have been her year but i just. i tried to ignore it until it was too late. i even prayed for her in my grief. that she'd make it through like she always had before.

it just... it hurts so, so bad. it was so traumatic. her not being able to say goodbye since she was on a ventilator. i said my words to her thinking the coma they'd induce would help her, but she'd never wake up... they put her down like an animal. drugged her up w morphine and let her stop breathing. we pulled the plug. i held her hand. i hugged her even though i didn't want to because i knew it meant goodbye.

my boss told me it's not really goodbye. it's until we meet again. i was so suicidal and i had wanted to meet her so bad, but every attempt failed. she doesn't want to meet me again just yet. and i'm happy for that now. i know how beautiful life is. even in the mess of the state the world is rn. i still see the beauty in nature and life. which i never thought was possible. i stopped taking opiates because she died and there went my supply. so i'm grateful for that, too.

i don't know where i'm going w this. i just need to get it out. i wish she saw me turn 30. i wish she could meet my boyfriend. i wish for a lot of things which i know will never come true... but i just hope she's out there somewhere. i hope she's stardust again. i hope she's in some paradise where she is free from all the hurt and pain... i know she's better off dead than alive. but i just hope someday i can see her again. i just miss you and love you so much, mom.

to anyone who reads this, thank you. i feel better just getting it off my chest. i'll share with you the words mom and i would say every night:

"good night, i love you, i'll see you in the morning - don't let the bed bugs bite, smooches, sweet dreams -

i love you."

[hirokiyuu]

D: sorry to hear about your life situation. for oc asks ill steal some questions from an earlier askmeme: does your yuujin believe in luck ? what about the cauldron kid? (i forgot his name but i thought the full-naming was very cute--it reminded me of when i spent a lot of time working w membership rosters and started doing the same thing). what do they do on lazy days?

hmmmmmmm i think the only luck yuujin believes in is the bad kind LMAO tho really rather than luck i think yuujin's just aware that sometimes shit just Happens to you for like, no reason. i don't think they mentally quantify it as luck or even fate so much as they do like. honestly. helplessness. there's no higher power or subtle quality to it it's just shit that Happens and sometimes ppl can escape it thru their own power but mostly they cant. They're Bitter About This.

as for wyn (cauldron kid)......... tbh idk if baby really believes in luck either....... i think he understnads intellectually theres a gap between hard work and guaranteed success and that sometimes that's luck but i think that his status as insane child prodigy means he's almost never come against a problem that he would classify as one he couldn't conquer thru hard work LMAO

and THANK U baby does the full naming thing bc hes pissed off people even before nrc by not being able to refer to them w/the proper level of politeness due to his status as Premier Potions Genius. some ppl encourage him to refer to them casually bc theyre colleagues even tho baby is less than half their age, some ppl get pissed off when a 13 year old who has more accomplishments than theyve ever managed refer to them as anything less than "mr" or "mrs" or even "maam" or "sir" lol so baby has found that if he refers to most ppl by their full name + institution of origin that usually means they wont get mad at him for how he's calling them LMFAOOOO

as for lazy days........ yjn doesnt even wanna get out of bed for those LOL they will lie around in bed on their phone just reading all sorts of completely random wiki articles abt whatever catches their eye. sometimes philosophy sometimes weird math paradoxes sometimes the hundreds of varieties of snails living in the oceans in twst. in their heart of hearts they are SUCH a nerd

baby meanwhile...... honestly baby is probably pretty bad at relaxing. i think any time he's not in the lab he's thinking abt like. what he should research next and how he should do it and what sorts of things he could do based off what he found most recently......... oh wehn he's at home tho i think when he's got lazy days w/his mama she'll sit and brush his hair and listen to him talk abt these. one of the only times he'll actually sit and relax instead of trying to go back to working LOL

[vi-inylrecord]

HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY TO TOBY MY FAV 💕 (at least, one of em)

i know, i know, i’m lazy… BUT i hadn’t been able to hear for like 5 days until now and every. single. time. i used any sort of light source my eyes would water 😭‼️‼️ but i’m good now n on amoxicillin

so, for his birthday, i feel like i should post (some of) my fav headcanons !!

also drew him so uh if you’re interested in that check it out !!!!!!

I - when driving with lyra right before the crash, she had the aux and was playing some sort of popular girly song. although he doesn’t remember what song or why he practically despises it, he knows the song has some sort of significance because he heard sally listening to it on some old boombox jeff found and he started violently ticking and got a severe ringing in his ears (starting off strong with some angst 💕)

II - i see some people that say his “father” ruined alcohol for him, but honestly… i could see his resentment for his father being stronger than his distaste for alcohol so he totally drinks on occasion. like, he has this very strong “fuck you dad, i’ll do whatever i want !! you can’t ruin that for me” attitude that RADIATES off him. also, considering the CIPA, he doesn’t get very bad hangovers (LUCKY BASTARD ??!??)

III - i also see a lot of people saying that his music taste would be alex g and car seat headrest, a bunch of male manipulator music, but… that man listens to midwest emo. like, his original design?!???1( THE SIDESWEPT FRINGE ?!??(?!1 yeah. he listens to ptv. (saliva, ptv, get scared, american football, shinedown, and probs even picked up some heavier music ((i.e. sludge/nu metal like acid bath and mushroomhead)) from jeff)

IV - knows when to keep his mouth shut, he just doesn’t feel like it most of the time or has some smartass retort he’s just GOTTA say (realest)

V - his canon ticks are cracking his neck, bending backwards, and like one other one i always forget… building off of that, i feel like he’d also erratically twist his head to the side as if someone slapped him across the face (wonder where he got THAT from…), clack his teeth in like a biting motion, whistle, imitate water droplets (YK WHAT I’M TALKING ABT), and he uh… randomly yells “FUCKFACE”. specifically because it was what he liked calling his dad 😭

VI - i imagine him as somewhere undefined on the ace spectrum, like 60% of the time he’ll be sex-repulsed and the other 40% he’s uh. fuckin’ odd to say the least. omniromantic with a male lean and is violently trans-masc (OMG ME TOO !!?!! not self projecting guyz i swearrrrrrrrrr🙁🙏‼️)

VII - he’s german, we all know that, but bro. PERSONALLYYYYY i think he’s german, some irish n italian, and native american !! give that guy some depth 🙁 also, his skin is like an olive-y tone and it’s pretty tan, just not as tan as it could be because he was homeschooled (meaning he probs spent most of his time inside), and the tree canopies of the forest provide quite the shade from the sun.

VIII - he knows how to cook/bake but his ticking kinda interferes with it so he doesn’t do it often, but when he does he makes little treats like mini bundt cakes or german chocolate muffins, and one time cooked pancakes n bacon for all the creeps he’s close with (he cut some livers in halves kinda like butterflying and made it into “livercakes” for ej… 😭

that’s all my brain could conjure up !! thank you for reading it all if you did and notes/rb are always appreciated, never expected !

have a nice day/night 💕🎀🐺

[szczekaczz]

1, 17, 38!

1. what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

first and most important thing would be learning english at the age 12... because it truly opened so many opportunities it's crazy. being able to access the information from such many international sources and to read the points of view of everyone who too can speak english really broadens your horizons for sure. especially when you're from a rather small country :') not to mention all the books that are either extra expensive to get here or there are simply no translations available..... so yeah learning it so early was literally life-changing

second one.. or rather someone is my philosophy teacher from high school. at that time i saw a lot of myself in him and it gave me a much needed peace of mind that ppl like me can truly live the life that gives them happiness. philosophy was his true life passion and his lectures were filled with so much emotion and excitation, it was really freeing to see him talk so openly about something he loves and being madly respected by us for it. his second love was exactly one particular mountain range which he called his lover and hearing him talk about it too was wonderful... and he loved working with teens and was the most respectful adult towards them i have ever met, plus his honest curiosity towards what we think and wanting to truly understand what we mean were a very good lesson for learning patience and respect for others even if u think at first they're talking bullshit. i could talk abt him for hours so let's just summ up that seeing an adult aspie being happy and content with his life really gives you hope for the future when you're an angsty teen haha

three hmmm the plague dogs. especially the movie because i still can't bring myself to actually read the book ending [*] but the ending is one of the reasons why i find it so important <3 because this book/movie shaped a lot of my art preferences and art is important for me sooo... it has just the right level of anthropomorphication, dogs don't behave like they're literal people put into canine bod, as it sadly feels to me in most of the media, but there's this nice blend of dog and human way of thinking and perceiving the world. very interesting! the characters' relationships, the way snitter's hallucinations are described in the book, voice acting in the movie... and the ending feels like a perfect tragedy for me, meaning that i really can't see their fates ending in any other way they end. and i love a good tragedy haha, all enormously inspiring when it comes to creating my own works too <3

17. name 3 things that make you happy

1 dogs always forever.. my own dog, all the dogs i've ever known and formed a relationship with, learning about them in any way, observing them irl and on the vids other people take and share, talking about them, everything <333

2 birch trees, the amount of happiness i feel each and single time i see them is incomparable ;;❤️ i need to hug a birch really soon or i'll go crazy and i'm not joking

3 nature simply and living in city after many many years by the forest and meadows and in the quiet really made appreciate it even more. i've seen people calling it "small" joys in the "mundane" but for me it's truly big and special. rays of sunlight, the grass, the wind, the animals, everything... anything you can experience with any of your senses. if i had to define the meaning or the sense of my life it's experiencing as much of nature as i can <3 nothing heals more

38. fave song at the moment?

there's even a decent translation, would only change "not so much" into "so little" just for it to sound better, the meaning is the same. it may be corny or whatever, i didn't find such themes very personal in the past but a war in a neighboring country changes many things in one's perception of the world. it somehow comforts me these days :)

[0bsc3ne]

hey guys gotta bitch abt my boyfriend again. yk how it is. yada yada he's great you guys just don't hear that bc this is first and foremost a vent. ok whatever moving on

i'm just so. for THREE FUCKING DAYS IN A ROW i've had breakdowns in front of him bc, and here's my grand list of things:

a. i am being forced to come to terms with the fact that my boss of 4 years, who i have looked up to since i was 14 years old, is, in fact, an asshole, and has hurt my friends (without me noticing, which makes it hurt even worse!) and is now distancing me from the one thing i care about (teaching photography classes) bc i challenge his ego

b. the THIRD fucking job i've tried to get is, once again, in the process of fucking me over. this is also the second time a business owner who i've previously heavily respected is fucking me over. my partner is also the one who got my hopes up about this third job and PROMISED me it would work out. as things stand it does not seem like it will.

c. i need to be able to make MINIMUM $1k a month by the end of may. MINIMUM. i have made maybe $100 in the last... two weeks?

d. florida trans legislature. enough said.

anyways. today went fine! i had a good day! i was productive and i hung out with friends and i generally feel good about everything i did! and then tonight i was at his place and we started joking abt one of our mutual friends and the books he recommended us so i pulled up a review for it and started reading it out loud bc it was funny and my partner goes "oh! this reminds me of an interesting conversation i had-" and then 30 fucking minutes later he's trapped me in a "discussion" about... music critics? and when i tried to tell him i didn't really want to talk about our opposing views on it bc it doesn't really matter and i just wanted to read a funny book review to him, he just sorta... dismissed it? it just feels like whenever i have something that isn't an imminent breakdown he either just kinda hms along or makes the discussion about some ideal he has. like he never demeans me or anything and i doubt he even realizes he does it but he goes into this fucking. it's this like highschool debate team script every time we have a discussion and it just feels like he's Testing me. but whatever. not a big deal.

anyways i said something about how i'm just frustrated about the whole third job thing (bc he's involved in that too) and he started talking abt the owner which ok sure whatever AND WHAT REALLY FUCKING PISSED ME OFF is that he starts talking about HIS boss. who is REALLY good. which i'm not like upset he has a good boss, i'm happy for him, BUT READ THE FUCKING ROOM. SEE POINT A. SEE POINT B. don't fucking spend TWENTY GODDAMN MINUTES talking about how good of a person your boss is and how good of a business owner they are to your boyfriend WHEN HE IS DEALING WITH HIS OWN MENTOR FIGURE BOSS BECOMING A FUCKING ASSHOLE. there is a TIME and a PLACE.

i've just. i know he's really socially... bad, in general, but. fuck. i have never felt so ignored in my life. and now it's just putting me in a thought spiral of how else i feel ignored when none of it has ever bothered me before. i just. i don't know. i've come home from his place upset more nights than i have happy recently. i'm only so stressed abt finding a job so that i can move in with him once his roommate leaves. i don't even know if i want to do that anymore.

[duck-era-lexi]

olivia rodrigo GUTS review

i didnt write this yesterday bcuz my house power went out cuz of hurricane

______

all american bitch - oh okay so this is a ROCK album. comparing this to traitor is funnnyyy, and this is coming from someone who's fav sour song is traitor. this is abt just like patriotism in a teenage girl gen Z type shit way, like a loyalty to the basic bitch culture lmfao

bad idea right - damn i love this song, the lyrics make me like be like ughhh girl r u fr right now. it's abt her going back to her ex because she's irrationally attached to him, but the way she tells the story is so funny. she's so sassy and it's so extra

vampire - ah yes the taylor swift song. this is very sour olivia but she sounds older, it's abt dating an older guy. the vampire metaphor isn't perfect but i love the "girls your age know better." i don't really take it as alt pop type beat despite the dark metaphors. vocals are absolutely amazing but like i havent listened to the rest of the album so ...

lacy - where is rock... i can imagine this being a skip because it's a very quiet song in a very loud album. this is about being lacy in like the sex appeal way of lace but also fragile and sensitive. i don't really like the melody it's kinda dull but the lyrics are particularly intuitive. OR it's about a person??? news articles r confusing me but lacy the word makes more sense to me

ballad of a homeschooled girl - the song that's everyone talking abt, the ex disney prodigy life. Very rock again and i also take this as a possible gifted kid anthem. yes olivia is a theater kid but no hate theater kids don't listen to olivia rodrigo or any type of mainstream music. sorry i got off topic but yes prodigy toxicity

making the bed - wow okay back to pop. song abt being objectified and used as a housewife, and the irrational behaviors that come with that. working too hard in a relationship, but she's also very quiet and sort of unsure about speaking up.

logical - someone not making sense but it's a super dramatic loud song. similar tones to vampire in terms of intensity and super strong on the men Bad and Stupid annoying bitches. "love is not logical" basically the entire song not super deep

get him back! - yo this album kinda's exhausting. can girl catch a break. this is literally about teenage delusion... i guess it's also about that "sweet revenge" but the entire thing to me reads like absolute teenage girl delusion. her narrative is that he sucks so she's gonna get him back and then break his heart even further. ok sure

love is embarassing - kinda self explanatory. cute song and she sounds like she's trying to cope by lifting herself up. it's like that feeling you get when you deal with drama and you're complaining to your friend but at the end of the day you still have to go out and live your lives so you're just like "yeah it's whatever i guess... but kinda stupid"

the grudge - this is about after a breakup, hearing your ex's voice in your head telling you you're not good enough. but at the same time you hold a grudge against them they are also negatively affecting your life in Your head. "cuts are never equal"

pretty isn't pretty - beauty is pain and yeah i agree with this one heavily. this is abt teenage girl bullshit insecurity, and how all the pretty girls are built from inherent insecurity and not feeling good enough.

teenage dream - song about not being good enough, and getting the teeange dream but not being able to sustain the life. and thinking it's all your fault. i'm also pretty sure this is about her blowing up at 17 and thinking that she'll never achieve the same popularity and success she did with her debut album.

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conclusion- i hope olivia gets a good man in her life. the most positive song relationship song in this is "bad idea right" and that's well... certainly a stretch. olivia is compared to taylor swift a lot but it's probably much more accurate to compare her to paramore. comparing this album to fearless is crazy, taylor's albums are generally much more positive (regardless of the authenticity of that) while olivia talks a lot about the corruption behind most of gen z's personas, and the issues teens struggle with. but like... girl u deserve better <3