#though that could just be a thing for us as the audience

[ceratedfish24]

OP, thank you. I have been saying this FOREVER. It is so rough to see people blowing Scott’s actions completely out of proportion and never treating Jimmy the same way. Like, if you’re gonna make Scott out to be this horrible person, then you can’t overlook Jimmy’s behavior. Of course, in the original context, they’re both perfectly fine, but, in the fandom context, Jimmy’s been mean or occasionally even downright cruel to Scott. Again, this is fine in the original context, because they’re all just friends teasing each other and we have to trust them to bring it up on their own if they actually have issues. The choice to always view Scott as a lying, selfish, manipulator and Jimmy as an angel is exactly what’s controlling the narrative. If you’re looking at Scott as a liar, which is strange to me because he’s one of the most honest people in the Life Series, then of course you’re going to think that everything he says must be a lie. If you unquestioningly view Jimmy as an angel, then of course you’re going to find justification for everything he does. It’s all about perspective. Scott has always been described by the other Life Series members as one of the kindest people on the server. Even Etho, though he has admittedly gotten a lot more comfortable amongst the Life Series cast, thinks that Scott is amongst the most approachable and trustworthy. If you choose not to believe then, then that’s fine, but you can’t go about saying that “everyone knows that Scott is manipulative” or “Scott is definitely manipulating because” or “everyone hates Scott because”. It is your choice to view Scott as a bad person that stops him from being redeemable to you, despite all of the evidence that he’s a very normal person. You are treating one person like a monster for things that the creators you love most partake in because that’s how the game works. Why are you picking on this one person?

I’ve seen people go as far as to say that Scott is manipulating his audience, but then they proceed to list a bunch of reasons for this belief, all of which are things Scott doesn’t control. For example, the editing of his videos(he doesn’t do his own editing, and, what? Other people’s content has depicted him in an awful way?), MCC participants(Scott doesn’t have control over who of the eligible candidates apply, only who they end up on teams with, and, even then, he doesn’t have enough options to put everyone on the perfect team every time), being in MCC himself and winning often(Scott is a good player. Of course he wins quite a bit. Saying that Scott shouldn’t be in MCC is like saying that Grian shouldn’t be in the Life Series, specifically 3rd Life, which Grian had the most time to think about and ended up winning. That’s the exact same logic people use to argue that Scott shouldn’t participate in MCC.), etc. are all things people have said Scott, the real Scott, is manipulative for. That’s a very serious accusation you’re making of a real person. It could ruin his career. Additionally, it’s an accusation that so many of your favorite creators have avidly debunked. I can’t count how many creators have vouched for Scott’s character and found comfort in his presence.

One of the hardest parts about is that, when I talk to these people about it, many of them have said that they’re associating Scott and Jimmy with stereotypes as opposed to thinking about their actual behavior, which is so devastating to me. Why would you depict someone as pure or evil without thinking about how they actually behave or why? Declaring that Scott is evil when he’s actually completely normal is obviously harmful, but declaring that Jimmy is a saint when he’s actually completely normal is also harmful. If you think that Scott’s actions are horrible, then you have to address that Jimmy is equally guilty. It’s simply not fair otherwise.

I am also a bit surprised that people who make Scott and Jimmy's relationship toxic always make Scott the toxic one.

Like, to be clear, I don't think either of them are toxic. I just made a whole post about how their issues come from them wanting different things, not from one of them being toxic or something.

But fandoms love to stretch and dramatize, I get that. So I get why people make them toxic for fun.

I just don't get why it's always Scott.

Because actually rewatching Third Life from their pov's recently, Jimmy had just as many- if not more- moments where he was dismissive, argumentative, or selfish as Scott did.

Yet when the fandom zooms in on their issues to portray their relationship as toxic, Jimmy is always the victim, the one being manipulated, the one being dismissed and belittled, and Scott is always the mean and controlling one.

And it's just baffling to me. Genuinely. I don't understand why fans who make them toxic always do it by magnifying Scott's perceived wrongdoings and only Scott's perceived wrongdoings. I don't understand why fanon dramatizations always play up (to a frankly ludicrous degree) Scott's flaws when, to be frank, he's never been any worse than Jimmy, and nobody makes Jimmy out to be "toxic".

[pokckygamewithbatman]

Parental Figures in Arcane, and How S2 Both Maintains and Hurts this Aspect of The Show

The kinship that Zaunite "families" feel for each other is shown countless times throughout the show. Claggor and Mylo aren't Vander's kids either, but he loves them just as much as the girls, and the Zaunites who had been imprisoned and were rescued by Jinx in S2 immediately want closeness to her. When Jinx cares for Isha they never address or label their relationship to one another, or to us. They're all on the same side, and it doesn't matter if they're related or not, or even if they're close. They're all fighting and surviving together.

Arcane also made it clear how important parental figures are, but they didn't touch on the importance of titles in that relationship between a parent and their children because that was never important. There was always something more pressing happening. Only at the very end could someone admit their love and bestow a title as sacred and important as "dad" or "daughter".

So why do Vi and Jinx both call Vander their dad so easily in S2?

In broad, broad terms, the thing I don’t like about the lack of nuance of Vander as a father figure in S2 is because of the immense nuance in S1. In S1 Vander is never referred to by Vi or Powder/Jinx as “dad.” He is a guardian, definitely, but when they’re young they’re not yet ready to accept him as a father, which is probably in part because of the nature of Zaun; when you’re all trying to survive together and everyone’s bringing whatever they can to the table (almost as equals, even if some are literally children), parental figures and titles of that sort are lost, especially in this case when Vander and the girls aren’t blood related. They may still remember their biological father (though he's never mentioned) and aren't ready to replace that person in their life. They at most see him as a close uncle or family friend of their mother. And from this point up until he dies that doesn’t change. They never call him dad in S1, and that really helped the theme of "love transcends time and class" so why does he gain this title in S2 after they haven’t seen him for 10 years(?) and thought he’d been dead this whole time. No extra bonding happened between the girls and Vander, and there was never any indication that their relationship with him, and how they felt about it had changed from a beloved father figure and guardian, to "dad".

Sure, they miss him, and you could assume that in a flurry of emotion they spring the title onto him, but complexity, detail and subtly are where the show really shines, so why did they feel the need to straight up tell us how the girls feel about Vander instead of just showing their love and affection for him?

This happens in S1, Jinx feels a deep connection with Silco, but only shows it through her actions; helping him in his mission, hugs, cradling his face when he’s dying. And he in turn only refers to her as his daughter right before he dies, yk “you’re my daughter, I’d never forsake you”, which he says in conclusion to his decision that he'd never give her up, even for the freedom of Zaun. That line finally signifies to us that she is the most important thing in Silco's life. Before this scene the audience could still be on unsure whether he'd actually be willing to give her up for his dream. She's literally his new dream. Throughout the rest of the show he shows his love through his actions; he trusts her with administering his medicine even though he's fully capable of doing it himself, but he knew she needed to feel useful (and it's really cute that after a while he's incapable of doing it himself because he's let her do it for so long), he made her a big part of his plan to free Zaun because he had faith in her abilities and knew she wanted to help, he keeps the fact that Vi is alive from her in order to protect her (don't come at me with that "manipulator Silco" talk, he also thought Vi was dead, and when he found out he didn't tell Jinx because he saw how much it hurt her to even remember Vi and think about her. He reminds her of their goal and gives to a task to help keep her mind off the hurt she's feeling). Although we as the audience are like “mk they’re clearly father and daughter” it doesn’t feel like the writers are shoving it down our throats which is why it’s really impactful when Silco finally says it in the last episode.

After Jinx picks up Isha, or after Isha inserts herself into Jinx's life, a shift between "older sister/guardian" to "parent" happens after Jinx saves Isha from Stillwater. When they hug and Isha starts crying we see on Jinx's face the realization: "oh. She's the most important thing in the world to me" but the show never has to tell us that. Isha clearly has lost a parental figure already because of her insistence on keeping her miner's hat, and Jinx also recently lost her father figure, Silco, so they both know the meaning of losing someone they love, but don't need to label themselves as "mother" and "daughter" for the audience. And it evident that Isha meant as much as she did to Jinx because of how much her death crushed what was once an outgoing and confident Jinx. Once again, they never say it, Isha never calls Jinx mom (even in her own way (you could argue that she actually does in the prison scene before Jinx is attacked by Warwick, but even if she does that's a valid place to bestow that title: her guardian is in danger and Isha can't get to her, so out of desperation she calls her "mama", but this is never mentioned again so it's just as likely that Isha was just screaming)) and she doesn't need to.

While it doesn’t ruin the dynamic between Vander and the girls in S2 and they don’t say it a ton, it makes their relationship feel less deep. Instead of them not knowing who they are to each other, or not caring because they just love each other so much, they instead bestow a title that pinpoints their degree of love for Vander. They spell it out for us, ‘he is our father, and that’s why we love him. Period’ and I think that’s harmful to how we’re supposed to view these characters. Vi and Jinx aren't ones to give out such titles easily, Vi is hesitant to admit her love for Cait, and Jinx is hesitant to call Vi her sister, and yet this man who they haven't seen for so long, who initially tried to kill them, gains this title as though he's been guiding and protecting them the whole time?

This is not Vander slander, let me assure you, I believe just as fiercely as the next person that he is their dad, that man is a father, but the fact that they casually through the title around so easily is baffling to me.

Let me just put this picture in your minds: How impactful would it have been if the first time we get a glimpse of how much they truly love each other is when Vander gets his humanity back and the first thing he says is "don't touch my daughter". Remember that scene? Imagine how much more it would've hit if the audience and the girls were still unsure of how they wanted to call Vander and how he thought of them. If they only started calling him dad after getting like, confirmation that he felt the same about them and always had. Vi and Jinx, who are terrified of being wrong, and choosing wrong, should not have given Vander the title of "dad" when he was Warwick.

This is just a little nitpick of mine, and I've never seen anyone else talk about this, but I feel like it's small details like this that made the second season more... shallow?

[always-a-joyful-note]

I'm sorry but the comedic contrast between Cheng Xiaoshi terrified for his life because he thought Lu Guang was really sick and Lu Guang being surrounded by cats, driving past Cheng Xiaoshi in a taxi, pressing all the elevator buttons, and almost dying from running up the stairs....Lu Guang does not get the credit for being silly as he should get

[creative-robot]

I know The Founders Cut, generally, is the edited scrubbed over version of genloss from Showfall in-universe (as well as a not-8-hour-long-three-stream-binge-night whenever we want to watch it again) but something that struck me as odd and I haven’t seen anyone mention yet, is this warning

It shows up right at the junction where the third act starts, where it appears the Hero is breaking free of Showfall thanks to Hetch. But here’s the thing, while a LOT less than the previous acts the audience still played a significant role in this act, even when really only given two audience interaction choices. Which makes me wonder, how real is this warning, and who is it for? Obviously the audience involved knows what happens past this point, but the audience is also implied to be an integral part of the Social Experiments, which is part of why things start to tweak out when the Founder removes them in the Founder Cut as the Generation Loss generation loses.

My first thought, was that obviously this is another bait and switch, a way to draw the audiences attention, seeing something that’s secret, something that’s not “meant for them”, which is a tactic I could see Showfall using in universe to keep people’s attention and add an air of mystery to their shows.

But

Showfall is doing all their experiments and these shows with a LOT of help from their censors to show it off, displaying a fun silly show that is definitely not uber fucked up and that is 100% just slime don’t worry about it, it’s kid friendly if it’s green! And I don’t think they’d want to bet all their cards on this one experiment doing well enough to their audience to not question the sudden shift in tone that follows this warning. Which makes me wonder.

They did their test, they did their experiment, and the evidence of this last act? I think it was a one time run, they don’t want anyone seeing this, it isn’t for the audience. Act three is specifically to both test and play with their Hero, Hetch’s new lines add a level to this, never once does he call the Hero by their name, just refers to Ranboo as their Role, and he’s not exactly. Nice? About literally any of Ranboos concerns, which wouldn’t really seem conductive to making an audience trust him, especially with his monologue at the end. Ranboo has escaped before, possibly right before act 1 started, they tightened the security on his mask to be unremovably part of them, Hetch doesn’t like the Hero but they’re a fan favorite so he can’t just get rid of them.

Act three is the cumulation of Ranboo being punished for things they don’t remember, for daring to break free from Showfalls control, this is Hetch taking the Hero and essentially majorly fucking and manipulating them to take his frustration out on a fan favorite they can’t otherwise get rid of or give a smaller role like Slimecicle. which is exemplified by the fact that we now know Charlie most likely was never able to actually able to fully snap out of the control, that even in act three in panic and confusion there was at least still a part of him being influenced by Showfall.

So the first two acts are the usual show, they have their posters, they have Squiggles to introduce them, they have goofs and silliness and only a couple slip ups that’re quickly dealt with, the usual rose tinted curtains. Act three?

Do not watch the following material

[fvckw4d]

The concept of queerbaiting annoys me. I was told that it refers to a work of fiction pretending to cater to a queer audience but then pulling back from it to avoid alienating homophobes, which is an incredibly specific thing. But a lot of people seem to think that it instead means "any time there's any gay subtex, metaphor, or ambiguity" or "whenever something from 1995-2012 was being a normal amount of homophobic for the era."

[knife-em0ji]

When The Moon Hatched is an insane book. It is a fae romantasy but this author went whole hog into building a world that works completely unlike our own, and I can tell she is determined to make it consistent and make sense within her own internal set of rules. I really respect her for trying to do something new, even if the prose is the brightest shade of eggplant I've come across in a while. It's not Good -- the weakness of the prose, especially when she tries a "High Fantasy" tone, holy shit, and the stodgy romantasy beats [even with the twist you can see from a mile away] make this a squarely mediocre read -- but she was definitely ambitious and trying something that puts her work apart from the gazillion other fae romances (there's like, no humans at all in this book, which I respect a lot). She definitely has a Vision, and there's nothing I love more than works produced by self made arteurs with only middling technical skill that are obviously passion projects. Yeah, the story itself is mid and the characters pretty stock when you get down to it, but the world is genuinely interesting and probably the least derivative I've read in any contemporary romantasy. You can tell that she probably read things like Discworld and was like, "I want to do this too! I want to create my own unique planet and then set a sexy faerie romance on it and it'll be my magnum opus."

And you know what??? Good for her. I love that. Friggin large popcorn dammit because reading this feels exactly like watching one of those one-off mid-budget fantasy/sci fi movies from the mid 00s - mid 10s that are firmly mediocre, but still live in your psyche forever. This is truly the Mortal Engines or Chronicles of Riddick -- or, actually JUPITER ASCENDING!!!! -- of the faerie romance genre. I'm only about halfway through, but I'm pretty sure at the rate this is going my opinion isnt going to change much.

Also. People complain that there's tons of made up jargon and they need to consistently refer to the glossary, which I personally don't see because to me it's really quite easy to infer what things mean based on context clues ??????? Like the book never goes out of its way to overly explain what anything is since the POV character has lived in this world for her entire life, so it's all just normal to her, and I very much respect that choice not to exposit more than absolutely necessary. Like idk those 70s pulp sci fi books must have really done a number on my pattern recognition and contextual reading skills, because I'm not having any difficulty at all following and inferring the meanings of the jargon. Like. I really need some of these people who complain about fantasy slang and jargon to try picking up A Clockwork Orange one day. That book is nigh impenetrable with made up slang LOL.

[lem-argentum]

there is a lot that undoubtedly sucks about instagram however letting you add songs to posts is the best thing in the world because there's NOTHINGGG!!!!!!!! i love more than subjecting people to my music. 💛💛💛

[unproduciblesmackdown]

maybe bsol is that time jen tepper mentions when she was so upset about a review of a show of joe's that she broke a glass (&/or threw it out a window)

[dumber-alek]

People like to say 'oooooh main character syndrome' but what kind of main character cause it's significant

(yea I know it means it's just meant to say someone's self absorbed but play with me)

Like the annoyance varies depending on what kind of main character someone thinks they are. A shounen anime main character syndrome would feel very different to me than let's say a romantic comedy main character syndrome. Or a slasher main character syndrome. Let's introduce some nuance here

[eebie]

will be a hater for a second but i will be real. idgaf aboutkabru And 90% of the reason why is bc me n my friends watched the dub and couldnt stand how much he talked with the super breathy generic anime protag voice

[eyes1nthewoods]

watched nimona. it was ok.

[lesbianpegbar]

Ok. Four days until lc s2 (normal about it) final predictions do you think Lu guang is dead yes/no

erm okay so realistically i think no. he’s a major character and i don’t think they would completely kill him off so early in the story. THAT BEING SAID if they do end up committing i’d be fine with that (depending on execution obvi) bc of the established themes of the permanence of death and our inability to change past events. basically i don’t think they’ll kill him but if they pull a fast one on us i think it would be a meaningful and surprising narrative turn if done right

[prowerprojects]

I think it's completely normal for Tails; considering his character, to have the emotions that he has when insecurities pop up. The problems often lies in how they're prompted or carried throughout the story. They don't often do those flaws justice and it comes off as messy, unflattering and incomplete. Not unlike some other characters in this series. (Then again, I have noticed some think it's strange for Tails to any emotion that isn't happy, determined or cheerful all the time. Anything not deemed "cute".)

Him beating himself up over failures, locking himself away until he fixes it, getting frustrated when he think his feelings aren't being listened to or downplayed, feeling insecure when his efforts aren't good enough, "logical outcome vs doing what's right", pride being wounded at times and not knowing how to deal it. These are all fine, but we need to see his strengths in tangent to balance them to push him to new heights. (This is why I really hope he gets a solo story by himself with no Sonic in sight so we get a better sense of how he handles his struggles and tackles his ambitions on his own. More "what does Tails do", "what does Tails want", "keeping the peace his way", etc.)

Hm true. Even if I have a soft spot for what Lost World was trying to do, for example, the story itself is kind of a jumbled mess that switches emotional direction multiple times (Some people having trouble imagining Tails being anything but cute is interesting, because I feel like this is also connected with the massive amount of villain!Tails aus out there. It's like people want to see Tails express less "cute" emotions, but feel like if he does, he wouldn't be in character anymore. (But also there's a subsection of people who just straight up hate kids when they aren't perfect little angels and it translates onto the fictional children as well))

The other post was just about the flaws, but you're right. While having interesting flaws is good, for the character to be likable they need to be balanced with the strengths, but lately it's been mostly just the flaws, at least in the ways that really stands out to people.

It's kinda sad that for Tails to shine he needs to be completely isolated from Sonic. It comes off almost as if there's an issue with the character itself, as if everyone else is more interesting and would take attention off of him. But at this point I feel like there's also an issue of the reputation that he had developed, he might unfortunately need to be isolated to undo said reputation (But also who am I kidding I would love to have a solo story that is all about Tails and how cool he is and what he actually wants in life!!)

Though I'm not holding my breath tbh, at lesst not for a solo game, I feel like what's gonna happen is they come back the next game and act exactly as they usually do. Maybe Tails would be a bit more confident as the result of his self-discovery journey.

[itsalwaysdark]

also i admire dws refusal ever to engage with language barriers

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

academic rivals request! viktor x fem!reader, nsfw

request: @4-leafed pls... if u have time pls write a viktor x reader that r both geniuses at the academy but very much toe the line of rivalry and sexual tension...i love competitive smart people that fall in love when the rivalry becomes respect ... and they FREAK IT!!! possibly in a lab ! up to you : 3c

i liked this request so much that i ended up writing a decent-ish one-shot….

update: i wrote a part 2 because it was highly requested! you can read it here :)

rating: explicit

word count: 3,5k

warnings: academic rivals. LOTS of dialogue and bickering. dubious science because i skipped it in school, had to do some basic chemistry revision to write this pornographic catastrophe, so please pat me on the back. rough sex? rough… foreplay, that’s for sure. dirty talk, if you can call bickering that. penetration. reader tries to slap viktor, spits in his mouth and he cums in his pants. normally, i only write vanilla stuff, so i have no idea how it turned out THIS kinky (at least for me okay). not proofread (yet). nsfw under the cut:

—

“How do you take your coffee?”

His voice betrays the feeble intention of civility, fusing that polite inquiry into a hiss—a phonetic torture you didn’t even know could occur before. So much for killing you with kindness. Outstaging quips by desecrating courtesies. 

“I don’t care,” you mutter on autopilot. Can’t let him in on any personal preferences, no matter how insignificant. “Just don’t put arsenic in it.” 

Viktor scoffs. Puts the kettle away and peers at you over his shoulder, all wretchedly complacent. 

“So the rest of the periodic table is welcome, I presume?” 

Viktor. The local Nikola Tesla knock-off. Never a moment of peace with him; and the fierce taste of competition grows coppery in your mouth whenever he’s in your sight—the most handsome trigger of your cheek-biting reflex.

His name is an insult on your lips and you want to taste it. Chew it, crush it with your teeth and spit right out, preferably aiming for those poignant eyes seeking you in every classroom—so eager to light up with objection the second your opinion differs from his. 

Always the first prick to disparage your input. A never-resting generator of all the meticulous ways to denounce your projects. 

“If I may.” 

Sickeningly polite, too. With that lithe finger pointing in the air— so irritatingly comical. He may not, but there isn’t a chance he’ll shut up, now, is there?

And so he’d clear his throat, straightening his tie in that ridiculously solemn fashion. As if stepping on a pedestal to deliver a life-changing speech—not some shallow nitpicking regarding your circuit breakers. All eyes on him while his kept staring only into your soul. Special treatment, if you will. 

You will not.

“Using magnetic frames is careless,” he’d state. With his hand imposingly pointing to the blueprint on your slide. “Copper coils may oxidize. Not to mention the overheating. I would use thermoplastics. They’re significantly more efficient. And heat-resistant.”

Oh please. Like someone here gives a shit about what you’d use. 

But you can’t say that. Not in a room full of professors. And, judging from the countless nods of approval, the shits were, in fact, being given. 

“Too risky,” you oppose. “Thermoplastics often degrade at high temperatures. Electric insulation is not worth the damage of releasing hydrocarbons. I assumed that you’d be aware of that, Viktor. But I suppose that was an omission on my part.” 

More nods of approval, now in your favour. Here it goes again—the ever-lasting spectacle of hatred. Elegant, when entertaining the audience. Anything but discreet, in private. A perpetually drawn game of chess. By repetition, not agreement. Both of you refuse to retreat until checkmate. 

Oh yes, the sentiment was mutual. You and Viktor were notorious for tearing at each other's throats. The things you’d sacrifice to make that more than a mere metaphor, though. To pull him by that neat tie to sweet asphyxiation and hear him rasp for mercy with eyes full of pathetic condemnation. And he dreamed of that, too. His cane was itching to give you a smack—to paint your behind a plum so deep you’ll have troubles sitting without wincing. When it came to making metaphors literal, he’d pick being the pain in your ass.

However, your mentors couldn’t care less about the rivalry. The Collegiate Inventors Competition was coming up. And who could possibly make better candidates than two greatest minds of the engineering department, with academic excellence so accurately neck and neck that both of your names now occupy the honorary first place in every ranking table? 

That’s how you ended up with your sentence—three weeks of after-hours cooperation in the lab with the incorrigible bastard himself, a quarter of which you’d already successfully wasted on pointless bickering. Well, not without achieving some common grounds. The choice of prototype landed on one of your personal ambitions—a wearable exoskeleton for post-surgery rehabilitation, with plenty of robotics involved. Endorsed by Viktor, for once. The greater good must have swallowed even his dispute. Off to a nice start, if someone were to ask you.

However, the first issues struck early: on the very stage of development. Viktor volunteered for modelling: meaning, the framework would be custom, to accommodate his spine specifically. An object lesson for everyone involved, it would seem—but only in an ideal world. Which, considering what you had at hand (acrimony, bitterness, an entire picky bit of gall), was filtered out by default.

Now, five gruesome days and who’s-even-counting-anymore restarts later, you’re nowhere near close to at least a draft, yet borderline keen on murdering each other. And you’re certain the latter is approaching. He did just contemplate putting arsenic in your cup, after all. 

Viktor stirs the coffee. Watches his reflection smudge in the dark, whirly water, shooting you an askance glance from beneath thick brows when you start stirring yours—the spoon clanking a tad too loud, as if you were doing it on purpose. Which, you undoubtedly were. 

“Stop that,” he groans, almost leaping out of his chair. Heavy, disturbed gaze meets your cheeky simper. “You don’t have to stir it so thoroughly. It’s not like you take it with sugar anyway.”

“Of course.” You shrug. “I don’t drink slop.”

“Oh, I figured. There’s nothing sweet about you, so why would your coffee be any different?”

“There’s plenty of sweetness about me. I simply don’t squander it on entitled pricks.” 

That finally grounds him. And you’re giddy for the way his sturdy hand grips the cup so hard that it almost shatters into his palm, knuckles growing pale enough to match the porcelain. More so when you take a loud, languid sip, feigning innocence. Fully wallowing in his darling, defeated speechlessness. 

“Excuse you,” he mutters. “Entitled?!” 

“So you agree with the ‘prick’ part?” 

“Yes, and I take great pride in it. You may mark me flustered.” 

“Don’t forget to bust in your pants.”

Viktor sneers: chapped lip twitching, scowl growing defensive. Lanky legs untangle as he rises to his feet, towering above you in an angry lean on his cane—long frame transforming into your personal, scrawny menace, pissed exhale sharp and nasal above your head. And you admit to looking small beneath him—all hunched shoulders, weak smile finally tumbling lopsided. 

“Don’t you dare call me entitled,” he demands—and means it. It’s palpable in the way he twists the handle of his cane, the squeaky sound violently scratching your brain. “I sweated blood to achieve my privileges in this establishment.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “So did I, and yet you keep ordering me around as if I’m some braindead apprentice. We’re counterparts, Viktor. You’re supposed to be mindful of my perspective.”

“I never see you being mindful of mine,” he counters.

And, well. You can’t argue with that. 

Your coffee break continued in avoidant silence, but the ambience simply reeked of hostility—stifling enough to make you leave the lab feet first. The deadline’s chokehold besieging your neck wasn’t of any help, either—you had to submit the draft for approval by Sunday. And, so far, you haven’t even agreed on the design plan. 

You shoot Viktor a reluctant glance. Pensive, he sat slouched over his parchment, emitting pure peril. Like his shoulder blades might stab you if you attempt a single tap, belligerently peeking through the thin shirt. You tucked your lip under your teeth, chewing hard, tongue running over every small, neurotic wound inside your mouth. Fruitless negotiations held a special spot amongst your least favourite endeavours, but this conundrum called for a desperate measure.

“Viktor.” You winced at how chocked up it came out. He noticed that, too—because of course he did—turning in his chair to nod at you, ever so shit-eatingly. Lancing eyes scrutinised their way up to your face. What an affront. 

“Yes?” Always chiding in that condescending tone of his. Hissy ‘s’ echoed in the lab, gnawing at your nerves. 

“We have to submit something by the end of this week. Let’s at least decide on the blueprint.” 

“Fine.” He shrugged, returning to his sketch. “We’re going with mine.” 

“No!” You snapped. “We’re coming up with a new one. Together.” 

Viktor hummed in mock consideration. The strand of hair he’s been twirling unraveled, claiming more attention than you deemed him worthy of. Sighing, he lazily reached for your graph, frowning as his eyes started skimming over the scribbles. You made your way to the desk, claiming a spot behind his shoulder. That required a tacit truce. 

“You really want to wield… hydraulic actuators?” He winced, looking up at you. Had your breath hitching at that respectful attempt, the effort prominent in the very way he uttered those words—as if struggling to filter out swear ones. 

“Yes,” you mustered. “For high power.” 

“But they’re so heavy.”  

“Well, what would you use?” 

He chuckled—rich and malicious. Flipped the page and finally averted those curious eyes, arching a bushy brow. 

“I thought no one gave a… crap about what I’d use.” 

Oh, well. It felt nice while it lasted. 

“How did you even—“

“You ought to be more discreet with your vitriol,” he retorted. “I’ll let you know that I’m a decent lip-reader.” 

“Then don’t stare at my mouth next time. What would you use, Viktor?” 

Now that left you both startled. His fingers stilled above the diagram, flexing in disbelief, hollow cheeks hued a puzzled rouge as you almost chomped your tongue off, showing an embarrassed curse back into the depth of your throat. 

“Ahem. Electric motors,” he chanted, pretending to overlook the slip-up. And for once, you were grateful for his tact. 

“I see. Well, er… put that down, please.” 

He instantly complied, fetching a pen. Left you to reflect on your misery to the rhythmic sound of his scrawling, pressing a sweaty palm to his forehead. 

“Right.” He sighed. “What about the power supply?”

“Rechargeable batteries?” You suggested weakly. “Lithium-ion.”

“Very well. Frame?”

“Something durable. Titanium?” 

“Absolutely not,” he scoffed, pushing the notes away. “Why must you always insist on using the heaviest equipment?”

“I don’t know, corrosion resistance?” You muttered back, hovering over him. “Biocompatibility?”

“That’s perfectly manageable with carbon fiber!”

“So it shatters after the tiniest bump? Bravo, Viktor, how ingenious.” 

He lurches forward—rigid breath quivering over yours. Close enough to crush that thick skull with your forehead—if only you ventured, that is. But, alas, you’re not as brave just yet. Some brief eye-stabbing is about all you’re good for. 

“Fine,” he agrees, pulling away. “We’ll use aluminium alloys. Corrosion resistant and easy to machine. No one wins. Does that suffice?” 

“Yes. Now will you finally let me take your measurements for the sketch?”

He doesn’t answer—at least not verbally. Merely stands up and nods to the measuring tape, face still heavily contorted with displeasure. But you don’t oblige just yet. How can you, when Viktor’s fingers suddenly reach for his collar, fumbling with the button? And—oh no—now they’re sliding lower, reiterating once, twice, thrice, until his chest (flushed, but that might just be wishful thinking) is fully peeking out, teasing the smooth scrap of ivory skin. 

“What… are you doing?” You mumble, utterly startled. 

“…Undressing?” He says matter-of-factly, looking up at you so askance as if you’d just asked him if the sky is blue. One more ministration and the shirt is neatly folded next to the parchment—waiting for you to be through with the measurements to be slid back on his bony shoulders. 

“That, I can tell,” you mumble. “Why did you undress?”

Viktor’s gaze daggers into you again. “Don’t tell me you were actually intending to measure me clothed? Can you not comprehend precision?”

“Precision?”

“The prototype is expected to cling to me. I don’t see how that’s achievable with my shirt on— I assumed that was rather obvious.”

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“Ah, sweet civility. I even started worrying that other entitled pricks must’ve depleted your decorum, but it seems like you saved some up for me after all. I’m flattered, really—“ 

You don’t even register when it happens.

Next thing you see is Viktor seizing your wrist—sternly yanking your slap off his face before it gets the chance to land there in a flared handprint. Nothing but pure rage and prickliness—right where his short nails are lancing your skin, engraving an ugly bracelet you’ll wear for hours.

Well, maybe there is something else. Something inexplicable, and tremendous—deep in the way your eyes keep drifting south—where his pants sling low on defined hips, and the pretty trail of dark hair runs from navel to waistband—no doubt circling exactly what you manage to make out in the convex slope of his crotch. And you want to slap him for that, too—sonorous, and frenetic. Going in again with full force, but his force always turns out to be fuller—and in an instance he firmly twists your arm, pinning it behind your back—pale face barely five inches away from your flushed one. 

What happens next is beyond any explanations. Later, he’ll blame it on inertia—that stupid urge to maintain the speed, to stay in motion with your messy antics until some external force stops him—a simple need to claim you before the inevitable collision.

But there’s no inertia in escalation. In the way his free hand grabs you by the nape and clashes agape mouths together, teeth bumping hard enough to make you consider booking a dentist appointment later. Not a sign of inertia when you grab him, either—a little clumsy through the sharp pain in your twisted arm—bold fingers raking his scalp in a vengeful tug on his hair. 

And it’s more than a kiss. If anything, it looks like you’re trying to eat him—tongue out and thrusting into his throat so fiercely that he gags on it, almost tearing up. Now you know what sheer desperation sounds like, and it’s grunting against your mouth, suddenly pitching to a pathetic moan when you grab a handful of chestnut hair and pull so hard that his eyes roll back, lean frame shaking under your violent approach. You use that startled momentum to try and pry your arm free, but he still keeps it in place. 

“You’re hurting me!” You hiss, attacking his neck—the very one you always shamefully admitted to finding the sexiest any man can possess, and your teeth roughly pinch at his voice box, coaxing another whine. 

“Good.” He groans with spite. “I hope I am.” 

And yet, he releases your aching arm, trading it for a calculated squeeze of your waist. But the audacity overshadows his little mercy. You instantly use the unrestrained privileges to force a finger into his mouth—astounded at the way he instantly opens up, almost mockingly pliant. More so when you spit on his tongue, sparing no shame—as if trying to rile him up beyond recognition. Grinning, when your saliva dribbles down his chin. 

“Ah.” He huffs, instantly licking up the remnants. “Thank you. Ever so disrespectful.”

“You haven’t earned my respect,” you lie, nudging him towards the chair. Not even bothering to wait until he lands, impatient hands already messing with his belt—so treacherously earnest as you shake, unfastening the buckle, and the bastard chuckles at that, looking down at your eager work. 

“That’s a new low, then,” murmurs coyly, helping you into his lap, heavy head leisurely thrown back. “Sleeping with someone you don’t respect.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Oh yes. You’re about to.” 

You glare at him from under heavy lids, but the anger refuses to linger—not when he stares back full of indignant awe, so clearly basking in your attention. With his cock half-springing out of undone pants, shamelessly twitching against your palm. And not a single breath was hitched to conceal his excitement. 

“Must you always be so insufferable?” You reproach, pushing his hair back—too domestic for your own liking, and yet it doesn’t feel unfitting. Especially when he leans into your hand, welcoming your touch on his sweaty forehead—like he wanted you to feel it fever up with want.

“No.” He shakes his head. “But if it can grant me this, I’ll triple the effort.” 

“What happened to new lows? You don’t have a fraction of respect for me, either.”

“You’re right.” He shrugs. “Fractions could never encapsulate my tribute to you.”

And his hand slipped under your skirt, shakily crawling home—precisely where you’d never confess to needing him a mere minute ago. But the sentiment did a decent job at diluting your rancour. There came no protest when he introduced two long fingers into your underwear, openly gasping at the evident dampness. And you allowed him that with no regrets. Moreover, you helpfully sank yourself knuckle deep, wincing at the brief burn, arms wrapping around his neck as he sweetly looked up, seeking your  permission. Which was instantly found in the pretty moan you spilled into his mouth, slick tongues back at their futile attempts to strangle each other. 

However, your patience was running thin. As much as you wanted to indulge in proper foreplay, whatever masochistic dance he exposed you to had you in agony ever since it started—and it was getting unbearable to ignore the ache, no matter how bad Viktor  craved to postpone the main course. 

Your thighs clenched hard as you crouched above him, fingers wrapping around the hilt to awkwardly line the tip up with your cunt—the slick sound of it slowly sliding down suddenly igniting some tender bashfulness. Like you didn’t just spit in his mouth with a vile smirk. Like he never had to confine you from slapping him in the face. 

That stretch felt different from the one after his fingers. Significantly richer, it made you whine—a pitiful sound reverberating against his skin as you held on tighter and allowed him to bottom out, savouring every little crevice inside you. Raw, yet neither of you seemed to care—that concern was pushed alongside your underwear, then forgotten altogether when your walls clenched him, offering tight bliss. 

“Move,” you demanded, grabbing him by the chin. Viktor rasped something back, but you didn’t catch it—already too busy tongue-fucking his pretty neck, turning your teeth into sharp tools ready to stain it mauve with bites. 

And he complied again. One hand trembled on your hip while the other crawled between your legs—first missing your clit in the chaotic pace of thrusts, then finding it again as it grazed his fingertips. So cheeky when he dared to pinch it, avenging every pull on his hair. Though, he couldn’t gloat in your wince. Not when it clearly was one of the pleasured kind. 

But you didn’t feel like letting him regain composure. You already missed his husky groans—ached to test what else fucking you could make him mutter. Fogy gaze found his face again, softening at the sight—all wet forehead full of concentrated creases and thin lips bitten to bloodless paleness. 

You took over. Let him lean back and rest as you roughly rode him into the chair—and for that he gave you a grateful moan, the insistent thumb toying with your clit never stopping even for an instant. Good with his hands, and he knew it—proudly grinned when you struggled to keep going, taut legs treacherously giving up astride him. 

That didn’t please you in the slightest. You wanted him to be close, too: slid a hand up his chest and angrily tugged at one nipple—chortling when his mouth dropped in a stunned gasp. Bewildered, but he didn’t mind it—amber eyes squeezed shut when his head lolled, and you finally got his lovely moans back—raspier than before, ravenous enough to make your head spin. 

You could already feel it, pulsing somewhere deep within. Blurry vision couldn’t make him out anymore, the lab smudging into a mess of weird shapes—you were about to cum, hard, and Viktor threatened to follow suit any second—his thumb failing to hold steady, and yet the pressure was still there, courtlesly helping you chase that sweet relief. Such a gentleman. 

“Close,” you chanted. “So, so close.” 

“I know,” he answered, choking on a groan. “Me too.” 

And you melted, almost crushing him with your weight. Quivering in a spasm so intense that it had him struggling to keep moving, and yet he was mindful of the risk—used the last fractions of his brain capacity to gently nudge you off his cock and pump it fast and hectic. Cumming in one endlessly thick rope, with a moan so vocal that it reached you even through the layers of foggy, ear-buzzing aftermath. Had you shuddering when you clung off his shoulder, glassy eyes wide with trembling astonishment. You stared at him through the approaching wave of disbelief. 

No signs of regret so far, or maybe it was simply still forming—for now, you silently admired not a snarky bastard, but a pretty, fucked out boy beneath you. 

“Oh, would you look at that.” Viktor chuckled, sheepishly looking down. “I didn’t forget.”

“What?” You mumbled in confusion, following his gaze.

And when it finally caught your attention—sticky and relentlessly staining his pants—you slammed a hand over your mouth, muffling the hysterical laughter. 

“And here I thought I finally fucked your remarkable memory out.”

“Oh, by no means. As, eh… intense as that was, that misery of mine is not going anywhere. However,” he trailed off, his hand skittishly moving towards yours, “sex clearly proved beneficial for our… dynamic.”

You smile, sliding your palm into his warm grasp. 

“Can it ensure us enough civility to win the competition?”

And Viktor scoffs, coyly looking you in the eye. 

“Why should we limit it to just that?” 

[arts-and-drafts]

I decided to start compiling speech patterns and such for the Hermits I watch the most, because being a fic writer is hard sometimes 😭 then I thought “why not share it here?”

so here’s my very rough analysis of my most viewed Hermits, this is just what I’ve managed to gather so please don’t call me out for what I’m missing

-

Scar

Rarely stutters in normal speech. Maybe pauses if he’s started a sentence and doesn’t know where it’s going, but he doesn’t tend to trail off unless something interrupts his train of thought

Stutters a LOT when he’s startled. Also makes ‘hoo!’ noises repeatedly before he finds his words

Lays on the charm THICK when he’s trying to convince someone over literally anything; compliments their looks, their handiwork, and then pitches his proposition in smooth segue. Not one to entertain haggling though (however he DOES do a ‘look if you’ll pay full price I’ll throw in xyz’ thing). King of upselling even the most mundane things.

His tone is cheerful most of the time, no matter what he’s saying. He’ll actually often say very disturbing things with a light voice (ex. when discussing how to retaliate ie “what should we do about him?” “we could kill him! :)”)

Builds and locations somehow are always capitalized in his voice?? Like he says them differently. I can’t really explain it (when he talks about Aqua Town or Scarland or The Big Dig)

Literally has an evil laugh when he thinks of a way to prank someone or mess with people

Hums in thought quite often, and uses “huh!” quite often when confused or finding out something new (Mostly with redstone)

His farewell is almost always “Byeeee, have a great time!” even if the conversation he left was not a pleasant one. I’m almost certain he does this in tense situations just to get under other people’s skin and really push how unbothered he is

Doesn’t tend to insult people, the farthest he’ll take it is backhanded compliments

That said he is not afraid to outright threaten (“I will murder them.”)

References media a lot, both for concepts for builds and in speech (ie his greeting “Well hello there!” is from Star Wars)

Number one exclamation is “Sweet Baby Jellie!”

(More under the cut!)

Grian

Cold opens, both in videos and conversations (rarely says “hello, how are you, etc” when encountering someone, but he does say farewells/‘thank you’s)

Likes to sneak up on people and scare them if he realizes they haven’t noticed him yet, usually does so by getting real close and then yelling (“HEY!”/“HI!”/“WHAT’S THAT?”)

Uses the name of whoever he’s talking to pretty often while speaking to them (“Well, Mumbo, you never know”/“So, Scar, as you can see here-“), same goes for often addressing his audience (“you all”/“you lot”/“you guys”)

Usually pretty focused (when he wants to be) but oftentimes takes a minute to laugh at things he notices in the natural environment (An accidental face in a build, a mob in a strange place, etc)

Takes the lead in a conversation if nobody is the clear leader, but generally only speaks when spoken to if someone else has risen to that spot

Clarifies instructions after something is explained, both to his viewers and to anyone he’s grouped up with (most often seen in the Life Series)

Uses “Pardon?!”/“Beg your pardon?!” most often when surprised or startled (he’s very British), also sometimes uses “Sorry??”

Things are way more funny to him when he’s tired

Deadpans a lot in conversation ie “why not do xyz?” “Well because we’ll horrifically die 😑“

This man is allergic to committing to the bit unless he’s the one that initiated it

Not one to sugarcoat (“how is it?” “well to be honest it’s miserable”)

Number one exclamation is “WHAT?!” (though he often uses “oh my GOODNESS” quite a bit)

Mumbo

The start of nearly every episode is almost a pitch, does the same when bringing up an idea to others (“I have this idea”/“I was thinking”/“I noticed” etc)

Often laughs a little at himself when he speaks

Also often brings up how inexperienced/unqualified he thinks he is with literally any task he’s doing

Gets very distracted with the smallest things

Uses similes a lot when trying to describe a concept (“I’m thinking a this-type thing”/“Something like a [xyz]”/“Imagine like a [thing]”)

His voice gets higher when he’s startled or panicking

A very vocal thinker, which makes sense because he’s a MC Youtuber, but he also just. Seems to think out loud regardless

Comments a lot on the feel of things (“Oh this feels menacing”/“This looks like it’d mess you up”/“This makes it feel very intimidating”), often with building

Extremely modest. However will celebrate when he does something right in redstone/building (“YES! Oh my days, that took forever”)

Once and a while will have a rare banter moment with people he’s comfortable with (ie teasing and making fun)

Related to above, he gets very giggly when he’s hanging out with people he’s familiar with (Grian and Scar most often, but also Iskall)

Number one exclamation is “What on earth?!”

Joel

Greets people most often with “How you doing [name]?”/“How are ya [name]?”

He’s very northern. He often leaves out words in his sentences bc that’s just the way his dialect is (“What you doin’?” vs “What are you doing?”)

Says his th’s like f’s (“somefing”/“nofing”/“finking”) ((Stress also does this))

His jokes/teasing are very deadpan (“I made you this extra thing, because you’re trash at this”)

Actually gives gifts of resources very often, and always leaves it with a little note and signs his name

His voice gets higher pitched when he’s defensive/being extremely cheeky but other than that his tone rarely changes

This man. Flirts so much. If any other person initiates even the slightest of flirty banter he takes that and dials it to eleven I cannot believe this is a straight married man sometimes

Joel commits to the bit 100% of the time (slightly related to above), unless of course it’s jokes about his height

Makes a point to compliment himself if he gets the chance (words most often used are “handsome” “strong” and “humble”, as well as comments about his muscles and physique)

Insults his enemies diminutively (“look at you down there, tiny idiot”/“You’re wrong and also weak”) ((seen most often in Empires SMP)

His most often used insult is “idiot”

When he’s flustered/frustrated he uses “bloody” a lot (ie “bloody heck” or “this bloody thing” (loves to toe the PG line), also uses “blooming” (“bloomin’ heck”)

Most often used exclamation is also “WHAT?!”

Bdubs

Opens videos very jovially, talks almost like a radio host

Breaks down his builds down to the block, spends a lot of time discussing his block pallet choices and giving tips while he builds

Uses the affirmation “sure enough” a lot, and often addresses himself as “Ol’ Bdubs”

Talks affectionately about other hermits often (“[name], the absolute sweetheart, left me some materials”, “[name], you angel!”)

Adding to above, “angel” or “sweet angel” seems to be his most often used affectionate terms

Switches on a dime, though, if he gets offended (which of course causes others to poke fun at him even more)

Calls mobs “stupid” a lot when they don’t do what he wants (but takes it back if he says it to one of his horses ex. “Come here, stupid—wonderful, I mean, beautiful”)

THIS MAN IS THE #1 HORSE ENJOYER. He gets a horse first thing every season and rides it everywhere, and they’re always a focal point of his theme or builds in some regard

Pauses whatever he’s doing to sleep as soon as it’s possible, and gets very antsy if he can’t do it for some reason (“One moment, time to shreep!”)

Related to above, EVERYONE messes with him if he’s trying to sleep in their presence ie breaking his bed over and over, and he gets increasingly more frustrated when it happens

Rarely is soft spoken or quiet, he projects his voice and uses a lot of emphasis in his tone

Either straight up screams (and peaks the mic 😭) if he’s startled or scared, or yells “oh my GOODNESS!!”

Number one exclamation is “HEY!”