#this is not being introverted

[alixisherebutringagain]

I feel so much emotions sometimes, I wonder if people within the schizo-spec relate to it.

Like it's. Huge.

The biggest emotions, moving, crashing down on me, but they have no name. I can't know, for the love of God, what they are. They're just here and crushing me and overwhelming me. Making me paralysed and stuck and wrong.

And some other times, generally when I'm supposed to feel joy, pure joy, content, happiness, euphoria, whatever you wanna call it, I feel nothing and really want to be alone at home rather than surrounded by those people, even if i know them.

I'm realising that often, I fake happiness because I'm supposed to be happy, but really, i feel neutral or even annoyed.

For example, I was at my first ever pride. It was big, colourful, loud, people smiling and laughing and dancing and singing, my friends deeply enjoying themselves...

But honestly. I would have rather been home, doing my usual stuff.

I love my friends, I love my job, I love my coworkers, I even love people, but I like being alone better. I like being in my own little calm corner. Or not calm. But my corner.

Sorry for the rant. DAE within schizo-spec relate ?

[bluismie]

they probably had a bunch of inside jokes after working together for a decade

[lazylittledragon]

he's still not sure what he's doing but he's doing ok

[homkamiro]

*heavys voice* entire team is BABIES!!!!!

[truuskn]

miss the days when his main characteristic was being silly little guy

look at him! he should get arrested because he's breaking hearts with his cuteness!

they drew everything without much of a plan and thinking, how they managed to make all his smiles so shy and gentle?? just like they should be!! prowl, why are you so sweet

he's sooo 🤏🤲

[syncedpheriods]

i think the reason i find interactive introverts so interesting is because they wanted to say so much with it that they end up adressing in terrible influence. in interactive introverts they seem to really want to talk about the relationship they have with their auidence and how the nature of a parasocial relationship can be harmful. this seems to be a point they are so desperate to make but also feel the pressure to entertain and give the audience a good time, thus inadvertently proving their point. In a lot of ways interactive introverts is a specatcle, dnp cutting themselves open for the audience and saying is this entertaining? are you entertained yet?! the simulation scene at the start of the show is the appetiser for all that there is to come, and the start of a reoccuring theme. that this action will have consequences

in the simulation scene, the audience puppet around an ai dan and phil who act as they would and still feel the real pain and embarassment the real dan and phil would. dan and phil watch this unfold with a growing worry as the audience seem to pick all of the options that cause them suffering and for some reason take delight in it! this causes them to think about a question, how far are we willing to take this? now the wheel scene comes around and theyre curious about how bloodthirsty their audience could possibly be, so they ask and sit in horror as their audience seems to yet again take this with great excitement. dan watches in horror as this goes on and he's scared, she start pleading, begging to the audience, i'm a person too!! , as they sit there completely helpless to what's happening. this is where the audience experiences some slight trepidation, the words this is your fault and your actions have consequences hard to take lightly or brush off.

now the finale comes and there is nothing anyone can do but watch as the two finally understand that their pain is just a price to pay for others enjoyment and the audience can do nothing but helplessley watch as the two both painfully answer questions wrong. and theres nothing they can do now, dan and phil have been told this is what they wanted, is this not what you wanted? theres no going back now, we told you this would have consequences, its not our fault if you weren't listening. so they have to just sit and watch as dnp both keep smiling, pretending not to flinch from the pain.

they play themsleves off the stage, with the same sort of promise, no matter the pain we will give you what you want, but there seems to be something different in the air, because what the audience doesn't know, is that this is a goodbye.

in a lot of ways interactive introverts is a tragedy of two boys who were burned by the very fire that gave them life (insert dinof joke) and the danger of idolism and celebrity culture. but it is also the light at the end of the tunnel for them, especially dan who can put this all behind him and know she doesn't have to grit a smile anymore and finally gets to rest.

the thing that really gets to me that they talk about in terrible influence is, despite all of this, they still decided to come back! the songs in the preshow playlists about toxic relationships are painfully accurate, and the show itself questions if there is such a thing as a healthy creator audience relationship. the show does not answer this question but holds the sentiment that despite all of this, despite all the bad, they want to make it work, but this time on their own terms and thats beautiful to me.

[ssavaart]

Ever since my videos on Youtube and TikTok started getting popular, people would recognize me out in the wild and then realize that I am SO AWKWARD in person.

I LOVE meeting people... but I never know what to say and I always feel like I've disappointed them afterwards.

So, a few months ago... I printed up cards that I could give to people I meet that has an apology inside.

If you happen to see me, please say hi.

But be patient with me... I'm doing my best to "people" .

Sending Big Hugs from the Hobbit Hole. ♥♥♥

Scott

[weirdagnes]

While I love the idea that Felicia and Silco were besties first before they met Vander and Connol, I am also inlove with the idea of besties Loser Hunk Vander and Girlfail Cringe Felicia meeting first, then pining over Hotgirl Silco and Just-Some-Guy Connol.

Felicia, the woman with suitors lining up on her feet, somehow failing to rizz the most plain and simple guy like Connol.

Then Vander, big macho guy with high temper, suddenly clumsy and acting like a kicked puppy around this aloof smartass Silco.

Felicia giving Vander bad advices on how to make a move on Silco, which ends up making Vander look horribly cringe. In turn, Vander tries to set Felicia up with Connol by directly talking to the man (Felicia is so fucking embarrassed when he does this. Connol is oblivious to all attempts until Silco spells it out for him).

Everyone thought Vander + Felicia and Connol + Silco were the ones dating each other, so it came as a surprise when they double-dated and everyone saw the other kissing the other's "partner.” It made everyone so confused they just concluded they were a polycule and minded their own business (it’d do them no good poking around their business, Vander looks scary enough as it is)

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

When your extroverted friend who’s supposed to be good at this people stuff is somehow worse at picking up social cues than you are

I’m renovating the AU again because when am I ever satisfied. Anyways, I go sleep now

[kibbles-bits]

I made an introvert!Vox AU where Vox just wears cozy sweaters and socks and he doesn't leave V Tower and nothing else happens.

[bobosbillionsknives]

Happy birthday Vash and Knives !!!

(not ship art)

[lazylittledragon]

the only thing scarier than vampire lords/mind flayers/death cults is meeting the in-laws

[queer-obsession]

Just a small drabble. Kenma has a high maintenance girlfriend and has no idea (read: he doesn't care and thinks you're way too amazing for him). Song below makes me think of the dynamic

Warnings: Kenma x Fem!Reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, you're into your appearance and typical "feminine" things (by heteronormative standards) in this one, you are just mentioned in this, not actually in it. it's more of a conversation between kenma and kuroo, sorry. really short, i could expand the concept into a fic in the future.

Kuroo looks over Kenma's shoulder to see what's distracting him from Kuroo's riveting story of his last business trip and is surprised to see Kenma confirming an online order. "Buying a new game?" Kuroo asks with a grin.

Kenma rolls his eyes and leans away from him in response. "No. I ordered a new bag for ____ ." His tone suggests it's nothing out of the ordinary, and it isn't, but it still causes Kuroo to raise an eyebrow.

"She's kinda high maintenance, huh?" Kuroo comments his thoughts out loud.

Kenma scrunches his face up as he looks at Kuroo like he's stupid. "No."

Kuroo pauses for a moment and just blinks because Kenma is not naive or oblivious. In fact, he's able to read people almost freakishly well because of his anxious obsession of staying a head of people so they can't catch him off guard and humiliate him or something. There is no way Kenma is oblivious to your tendencies. "You're buying her another handbag..." Kuroo says slowly.

Kenma grunts in response and looks back at his phone. "A tote bag," He mutters the correction. "And I'm buying her it because she carries so much shit in her bag it hurts her shoulders. This is supposed to be internally padded without it being noticeable."

"And...you don't think that's...high maintenance?" Kuroo inquires as if speaking to a child.

Kenma huffs in annoyance and looks up at Kuroo again. "No. She's easier to please than my cat."

Now Kuroo is seriously confused. "What?"

Kenma looks at him like he's stupid again. Kuroo feels like he's on the outside of some inside joke. "I bought her a year's worth of nail sets for valentine's day and she was skipping places for the next week," Kenma tells him bluntly. "She's so easy to please, it's ridiculous."

Kuroo looks at him in bewilderment. "Kenma, she gets a new nail set every month and she hardly ever wears the same outfit twice. She gets embarrassed if someone sees her when she's not fully done up."

Kenma purses his lips. "Yeah. She likes when people admire her," He tells Kuroo as if it's obvious. Kuroo is genuinely so lost right now. "That's not high maintenance, it's easy to understand. If she was super complicated to read and clingy, and nothing pleased her then she'd be high maintenance. She's not any of that."

Huh, Kuroo never really thought about it like that, but he supposes it makes sense for a guy like Kenma. He likes things straightforward and he appreciates people who understand him and his need for solitude. You're straightforward in what you want, you don't expect Kenma to make himself uncomfortable to please you by demanding he takes you places or anything, and you're fine to give him alone time since you like alone time too. Kuroo supposes you being a little materialistic and into your appearance doesn't bother Kenma since it's simple and he seems to be able to understand it, which is all he cares about.

And, now that Kuroo thinks about it, it's not like you ask for Kenma to do any of the things he does. You were into fashion and being done up long before you met Kenma, to the point that Kenma didn't believe you were into him for a while because you seemed so out of his league. It's not like you sought Kenma out because you wanted a guy to pay for your nails. Ever since Kuroo has met you you've had a new nail set every month, happily showing it off. Now, Kenma pays for it though, and he almost looks as happy as you do when you show off your new set to him. Maybe that's what Kenma meant. You are pretty easy to please in that regard and maybe Kenma likes pleasing you, and seeing remnants of it whenever you wear something he bought you or have a new hair style he payed for. Kenma isn't good with words, but he's decent with actions. Maybe he likes that he can please you so easily with actions.

Kuroo smiles at his friend and chuckles to himself. "Well, whatever you say, Kynma. She's your girl."

Kenma scrunches up his nose and turns back to his phone. "Don't call me that."

[the-artist-grimm]

Forneus should bench-press Narinder

Vessel #7 was an interesting disciple. She came in with a strong sense of justice and a desire to help, yet in the same vein could be overtly informal and overzealous-namely in her over-confidence in flirting with anyone, from her cultists to enemies to Death himself. Despite his lack of interest and repeated attempts at telling her to cease fooling around, she continued taunting him till the day she abdicated the crown.

She got under his skin in a way others hadn't, and while at the time he'd loathed it, once she was gone, he found himself missing her sound. Her deaths were rare as was her company, but even so, most vessels didn't bother trying to converse as much as she did, and while he could've done without the flirts, it was almost enjoyable at times, when she dropped the flirting that is.

[lizardkween420]

Nanami is aware of the effect he has on women. It’s not that he minds the attention, it’s just that he feels it is hard to live up to certain expectations. He’s overheard friends (Gojo) talking about getting choked, getting their hair pulled. He sees the eyes he gets when he’s in a suit. He’s very secure in his masculinity, but he feels he is not the tough, commanding man he seems to come off as.

When you told him you wanted someone to take charge in the bedroom, he panicked. What did that mean, exactly? You didn’t give any details. What if you wanted him to hit you? He had no judgment of it, but he didn’t think he could talk himself into touching you in any way that wasn’t gentle. When he looks at you his voice always comes out a few notes higher than he meant it to.

Luckily, he asked for clarification, and you assured him you didn’t want him to do anything that didn’t sound enjoyable. You told him what you wanted. He thought about it for nights on end.

Outside it is raining.

One of the reasons it is so easy to be with you is that your ideal weekday date is a night at his place, watching a movie and eating a meal that he says only took “a few minutes” to put together. And even though you intimidate him— how could you not, you’re gorgeous and brilliant— it’s easy to ask you to sleep over, too.

He knows that you love to validate his concerns about whether he is taking charge enough or not, but he doesn’t want you to have to. He’s determined to practice.

“Any day, now, sweetheart,” he says, thickly sarcastic. Then his face freezes and he glances over at you. “How was that?”

You laugh and finally stop putting up your hair. “Very good, Kento. Very commanding.”

He’s sitting on the edge of his neatly made bed and watching you, one leg bouncing tellingly. You stand in front of him, and feel the heat of his body against your thin clothes.

You’re trying to make eye contact but he won’t look up from your lap. You tilt his head up, and finally, he meets your gaze.

His soft brown eyes are glazed, lightly, and the longer he looks at you, the wider his pupils become.

You can feel his breath on your bare neck.

“Can I… “ he whispers as he leans in.

Something about his nervousness inspires a comfortable anxiety in you, and all you can do is nod. And you know you should close your eyes, but you want to watch, you want to see the outline of his hand coming to rest on your cheek, you want to see the way his eyes flutter shut as he gets closer, you want to see the way his lips move right before they are on you.

And then it doesn’t matter whose idea it was, because you’re kissing, finally. His tongue presses gently against yours, finally. You catch the softest moan from the back of his throat, finally.

And then everything is easy.

You throw one leg over him and sit in his lap, wrapping your arms over his broad shoulders and leaning in. You feel the bulge of his cock as you drag yourself instinctively against it, and he places an arm firmly around your waist to keep you where you are. You kiss him hungrily— a description you hate, but what else can describe the way you are trying to breathe him in, to consume him?

You feel his lips fumble against yours, and pull away softly. “What?”

“I said I want you to get on your back,” he says breathlessly.

It drives you all the more wild to know that he probably sat for a minute or two, wanting you, thinking about what to say before he said it.

In one move, and without taking his lips off yours, he stands and twists you so that you are pressed against the bed.

For a moment he pulls away and looks down at you, blonde hair mussed and falling down his forehead. Then he leans back down and whispers in your ear, “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

Then he is kissing his way down messily, running his tongue against your neck, your collarbone, stopping to pull off your shirt, then kissing delirious circles around your breasts. You feel his smile against your skin as your nipples react, hardening, desperate for him to reach them. But he takes his time, slides his tongue perilously close before retreating.

“Fuck, Kento,” you moan.

And with that— the sound of his name— he finally presses his lips over your left nipple. Your breath hitches as he runs his tongue lightly, back and forth. You try to reach for his belt buckle but he catches your wrist and pins it to the bed. His teeth graze your nipple and you feel his wide chest, still clothed, pressing against your stomach, your hips. Finally, he lets you fall from his mouth, and as he moves to your right, he reaches down to your thigh.

He doesn’t even touch you where you want him to, just traces lazy circles up the inside of your leg. Your hips twitch involuntarily, and he uses the hand that was holding your wrist to cup around your waist, keeping you still. The restraint makes you whimper, and his tongue seems to twist around your nipple in response.

He breaks away and begins to kiss a line down your stomach. Again, your hips move, but this time he lets them, hinging his arms around either one of your legs and looking up at you. He is kneeling in front of you now, and all you can say is, “I want you to make me come.”

And performance anxiety be damned, that’s all he needs to hear.

He pulls down your underwear with one hand and moves lower, kissing each thigh, kissing where each leg connects to your body, his breath hot and heavy against your pulsing clit, already thinly veiled in your own desire. You can feel him staring, and it doesn’t make you shy, so adoring is the way he touches you.

Then you feel his tongue on you, and your eyes close.

He is good without trying to be good, just desperate to make you feel the way that he feels. Your hand flies to the back of his head and grabs a soft fistful of his hair as he sucks lightly at your clit, flicking his tongue over the corner he knows you like best. One of his arms rests on your stomach, fingers pressed down against your hip bone, and the other holds your legs open, his heavy silver watch cool on your thigh. He draws you in closer, his lips bumping against yours, and when you open your eyes you see that his are closed, and his expression dreamy.

His tongue drops to the opening of your pussy and you buck forward against him, very suddenly on the edge. He traces his tongue back up to your clit with a pace so slow it’s cruel. As soon as he reaches the little bulb, he arches over it, around it, and back down, slowly, slowly. Your legs press against his hand but he holds you in one place, seemingly indifferent to how hard you are accidentally pulling on his hair. You feel the hand on your leg sliding upward, and his watch rests on the inside of your thigh as he dips one finger inside of you and curls it. His tongue laps along the base of his finger as he begins to pump his hand, again so slowly that you whine a little and drag your hips quickly against him. The arm resting on your stomach presses down, just firmly enough to keep you from going too fast.

Your knees press hard into his pectorals, which he knows means you’re close to coming. He slows his pace even more for just a second and looks up at you. “Does this feel good, princess?” he says.

“So… good,” you manage to say, before you make the mistake of making eye contact with him right as he pushes another finger inside you.

Then he is moving quickly, his knuckles bumping against your wet clit. As he fucks you with his fingers, he twists one over the other and taps against that spot below your belly button. He could find it in his sleep.

He doesn’t even have time to return to eating you out before you are coming on his fingers. But on the bright side, this way he gets to see you do it. Your hips lift up and your back arches, and the hand that has been locked onto his hair has fallen back against the bed. His fingers keep moving, slowing only slightly.

He remembers what you asked him to say to you. He had thought it would be too embarrassing, but when you’re writhing against his body like this, it’s easy. “Good girl,” he murmurs, sliding his thumb over your clit and letting it rest there.

And it feels like another spiral of pleasure sent seconds after the first, the orgasm chasing the breath from your throat. “Fuck, Kento—“

He pulls back gently, as he always does at the slightest indication of discomfort. “What is it—” he starts.

But you don’t give him the chance to finish. You are pulling him up by the collar of his shirt and shifting so that there is room for him beside you on the bed. Face to face, he kisses you as you fumble with the buttons of his shirt— why is this still on?

He moves to rise over you, and you push him back down. He’s done so well being in control, and now you want to take care of him. “Stay there,” you say, lifting yourself over him and pulling down the strained zipper of his pants.

You watch him stare as you guide the head of his cock against your clit. The warmth, the soft wetness covering his tip, the way he is watching you like you’re his favorite movie— your eyes close and a moan escapes your lips.

You feel his arms around your chest, his lips pressing into your collarbone. “Fuck me, princess, please…” He sucks lightly on your neck. “Please, just… fuck…”

You lean down and take a handful of his hair again. “Eyes on me.”

As he is looking up, you push the head of his dick inside yourself. You glide down his length, and he shutters underneath you.

You bounce on his lap, your knees pressed into the bed for leverage. For a moment, he is completely lost in the feeling of being in you, of you grinding yourself against him needily, of the soft moans rolling out of your mouth every time you come down all the way.

Then the hands that were limp on your waist clench, and suddenly he is guiding you, as if he knew exactly when your muscles would tire. There is no slowness now, no teasing, no wait. You are riding him hard, the tip of his cock nudging against your innermost skin, your fingers pressed into his chest. He pants against your chest, his hands folding indents into your skin as he tries to pull you closer.

“Now who’s desperate?” you breathe into his ear.

You see him squirm under you. “Keep… keep going just like that… please…”

His dick spasms in you. In response, you slow the wave of your hips to a crawl, dragging yourself up and down him as if you are in no rush to feel him release.

He groans, his head coming to rest against your shoulder. “Baby, you can’t… I can’t… last like that…”

You take his chin in your hand, tilt it up. His brown eyes are wet and heavy with desperation. “Not even for me?” you say.

But the way your clit bounces against his body, the feeling of him slowly filling you up, the way he is looking, still, like you’re the only thing he has ever wanted— you can’t last like this, either.

You press a clumsy kiss against his lips and feel his breath catch as you pick up the pace again, thrusting harder than before. He is pressing upward, hands now clawing at you blindly, the man completely undone by you bouncing on his dick. His brow furrows and you feel him pulsing hard inside you. “I’m gonna—”

“Me too,” you manage as the pressure rises in you. You bury your face into his neck, drawing yourself in as close as you can get.

“Fuck…” he whines, one arm wrapping around your waist, so tightly that you can only grind desperately against his cock as he comes in you. The surge of it hits you, his twitching tip rubbing against your G-spot right as you pull yourself into him, clenching hard. You spasm against him, momentarily helpless as you ride it out.

When you are able to open your eyes again, he is breathing heavily, looking at you, and smiling like you never see him smile. He sinks to the bed, bringing you down on top of him without pulling out. You collapse in a heap onto his chest as he kisses whatever skin he comes into contact with.

And he thinks how easy it is, how anything is, if it is for you.

[tempter-sent]

I'm so obsessed with their dynamic in this movie!!!! OP manspreading in his chair and Megs being the one that's tightly-wound and anxious ohhhh I'm in heaven