#i feel like tagging valentin is a lie as its literally just his arm

[youngneil]

San☀️

#project moon #library of ruina #san #i feel like tagging valentin is a lie as its literally just his arm #my art

[ayatosmlktea]

best boyfriend series | bokuto

A/N: thank you very much bri for making this banner after I gave up! We all know bokuto is the worlds best boyfriend, and if you don’t agree I hope this convinces you!

Tags: @bakugoustanaccount @hoekaashi

I got really carried away with the backstory aha oops

‧͙⁺˚*·༓☾　　☽༓·*˚⁺‧͙

- You and bokuto meet your first year of high school, you happen to get stuck together during orientation and you like his talkative extroverted nature

- You end up being in the same homeroom together while you situate yourself in a seat near the back of the class by the window bokuto makes his way over to you and sits down next to you

- You guys shared one other class, science, one of your better subjects and one of his worst, so you spend lots of time helping him understand the work

- The humour flows really well between the two of you, you enjoy his company as much as he enjoys yours and more than once you guys get called out for goofing off too much

- Lots of moments are spent where he’s making you laugh so hard you have to keep it all in and your cheeks burn from how hard you’re smiling

- You guys text each other outside of class, he asks for help doing the english homework which results in you guys calling each other and laughing over him pronouncing the vocabulary

- He finds your laugh the cutest thing he’s ever heard and goes out of his way to make you laugh ever opportunity he has

- He asks you to come to a few of his volleyball practices - to show off obviously- he lives for the praise you give him but you know this so you often tease him for his mistakes just to see him pout although you’re always sure to remind him that he’s talented

- During his games when he nails a really good spike he’ll search you out in the crowd after and seeing you cheer him on excitedly makes him feel like he could play 100 matches and not get tired

- It’s the end of his second year when bokuto begins to realize that he likes you as more than a friend, that the erratic beating of his heart is because he has feelings for you that go deeper than platonic friendship it makes him nervous

- He starts to notice the things he didn’t pay attention to before like the way you bite your bottom lip when you’re deep in concentration or the way your eyes shine when he makes you laugh

- The nervous shy smile you get when he pulls you into him so you don’t get bumped into in crowded spaces

- He’s never gotten jealous over another guy touching you before but Konoha clearly trying to flirt with you sparks something in him to make you his

-Bokuto starts to think about how his life would be if you weren’t in it and comes to the realization that you’re different from his other friends, he sees you as something more but he’s scared to ruin the relationship you have and doesn’t think you would ever think of him that way

- Spends the entire summer thinking about being in a relationship with you and there were many times he hyped himself up to text you and tell you but every time he backed out

- He doesn’t think you’re in his league, especially when you showed up on the first day of your third year looking like an absolute goddess, you guys hadn’t hung out at all that summer and he almost didn’t recognize you

- Your smile is different than before, it makes his whole body tingle with nervous excitement, its brighter like you’ve become more confident in yourself and he can see why

- He thinks you’re absolutely radiant

‧͙⁺˚*·༓☾　　☽༓·*˚⁺‧͙

- The day he asks you out comes when you’ve stayed late after school to work on a project

- You both finish at the same time, he insists on walking you home like he’s always done before

- You hadn’t planned on leaving this late and were met with a cold wind upon exiting the building

- Bokuto quickly bounded up to you offering you his volleyball jacket which you gladly took without a second thought, it was something you’d done a hundred times before but this time had Bokuto wishing that he could grab your small hand in his and pull you in for a kiss

- “Bo? You good?” you inquire waving your hand in front of his face calling his attention back to the present

- You notice that he’s fidgeting more than usual and he looks ..kinda constipated

- You were no stranger to calling Bokuto out when he started getting weird and in his head so you stopped walking and turned to face him telling him to spill whatever was on his mind

- Bokuto’s eyes widen clearly not expecting to have been called out so soon, you can see the uncharacteristic indecisiveness swimming in his eyes and it makes you start to feel uneasy

- You were expecting him to say something about not wanting to be friends anymore, you knew you had changed over the summer and maybe he didn’t like who you were now

- What you weren’t expecting was for him to practically scream a confession at you

- When he was done you both stared at each other, you not knowing what to say and in shock at the fact that the guy you’ve had a crush on for 3 years has confessed that he feels the same way you do

- Your silence is his eyes indicates rejection and he feels as though he’s been kicked in the gut but he tells you to forget what he said and shoves his hands in his sweater pockets mentally berating himself for being stupid enough to think you would like him back

- You reach out and grab his elbow stopping him from walking away, you don’t say anything and instead stand on your tiptoes to place the softest kiss on his lips

- Both of your faces heat up but neither of you move away from each other, you whisper that you like him too and have liked him for years and he can’t help but laugh in relief

- He pulls you into a hug and spins you around before holding your face in both his warm hands and kisses you again making your headspin and your heart race

- The next day all your friends are relieved when you show up to school holding hands claiming that watching the two of you pine over each other so obviously and not doing anything about it was painful

- Bokuto as your boyfriend!!!! finally

- Bokuto is your #1 hype man, for everything

- Doesn’t matter how big or small it is he’s always happy when you succeed

- Every time you post a selfie on instagram he’s always the first one to comment in all caps exclaiming how beautiful you look

- Also the kind of boyfriend to make you stop when you guys go out so he can a bunch of pictures of you, tells you to pose, tells you how pretty you look with the sun making your skin and eyes pop

- He kisses you every chance he gets, just peppers your face with kisses because his heart is overflowing with so much love for you that he doesn’t know what to do with himself other than to express it through kissing you

- Loves skin to skin contact, when you’re lying in bed together he’ll lift your shirt up and press your back against his chest with his arms cuddling your stomach

- Screenshots every snapchat you send him, even the ones you think are ugly because he thinks you always look beautiful especially when you’re being dorky

- He loves going for hikes, being the active person that he is he’d def be down for a lot of outdoor activities

- Kuroo still has the pictures on his phone from when you all went down to the lake for the weekend and Bokuto tipped your kayak over. At the time you had been anything but happy with your clothes and hair soaking wet but the memory of it now made you chuckle

- Your size difference is his favourite thing about the relationship, you’re so small you barely reach his shoulders and it makes him feel fuzzy inside knowing that only he gets to hold you close against his big beefy chest

- Insists on paying for literally e v e r y t h i n g

- It doesn't matter how much money you make, he always wants to treat you because you’re his baby, don't bother trying to fight with him bc you're going to lose

- Not only can he physically overpower you from being able to read the machine to pass your card but he’ll just pull some shit out like “can’t a guy treat his beautiful girlfriend?”

- If you mention in passing something you’ve been craving like food/candy/snacks etc he’ll go get it for you, if he notices you are looking at something you've been wanting to get yourself for a while but are hesitating bc its too expensive or you don't think you deserve it - you got it, he’s going to buy it for you

- Everyday is valentine’s day for Bokuto so there’s never a day you don’t feel loved and cherished, he buys you new flowers every week with a cute note attached saying something he loves about you

- On the actual day, he just sees it as an excuse to go all out for you, breakfast in bed, your favourite chocolates and/or candy waiting for you in the kitchen, obviously he’s gonna insist on waking you up with his favourite meal...if you know what I mean

- He insists on picking you up from work when he has the chance, especially if you’re working late

- When he has to leave early for practice he spends the few moments he has between waking up and getting dressed to cuddle you, buries his face in your neck and enjoys the sound of you snoring softly

- Always kisses you goodbye, one on your forehead and one on your lips

- Sends you a good morning text so you wake up to something happy because he knows you get sad when you wake up and he’s gone all day

- If he has to leave the city for a game or something else work related he makes sure his side of the bed smells enough like him that isnt overpowering but is enough for you to hug while he’s gone and have some comfort

- Sends you pictures everyday until he’s back and while you learn to cope with him being gone he nevers sleeps right without you

- He misses you even more than you miss him, he’s a clingy baby and needs your validation that you love him as much as he loves you

- Everyone gets insecure sometimes, including Boktuo and when he’s having one of those days all he wants to do is lie his head down on your chest while you play with hair and cuddle

- Bokuto is the kind of guy who knows he’s going to spend the rest of his life with you, I feel like depending on his mood he’s either antsy to propose or he’s not in a rush because he’s enjoying the lives you two are leading right now

- He’s had the ring he’s going to use to propose to you with for a solid year before it happens

- I also feel like he’d do some shit like pull the ring out while you’re not looking and take a picture to show you on the days leading up to the proposal

- He’ll take you to the beach to watch the sunrise with you and although you’re cranky and complaining that it’s too early to be awake you know the view will be worth it

- What you aren’t expecting is for him to get really serious as the first splashes of blue and pink hit the horizon while he talks about how he never imagined you’d become so important to his life

- He recalls the moment he fell in love with you, it wasn’t anything romantic or particularly cute and it was a little embarrassing now that you think back on it but he remembers the two of you joking around during lunch and him making you laugh so hard you snorted out milk through your nose

- He doesn’t know what it was about that moment but it had stuck with him all these years, he talks about how he wants to spend every morning waking up to you, bed head and morning breath and all

- He thanks you for being so patient with him during his time growing up in high school, he tells you he’s grateful you were there for him when he was feeling the worst about himself

- He starts to choke up as he talks about knowing that he wants the spend the rest of his life with you and that he’ll spend everyday making you the happiest woman alive and making sure you know how loved and appreciated you are

- By the end you’re both crying and when you choke out a yes he grabs you into a tight bear hug and can’t stop smiling the rest of the day

#bokuto x reader #bokuto x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #bokuto koutarou #bokuto headcanons #bokuto imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! imagines #hq x reader #hq x you #hq headcanons #hq imagines #koutarou x reader #koutarou x you #best boyfriend series

[aperfecttimeforscreaming]

AN EXCHANGE OF MEAT

Late valentines day ZADR drabble, extremely nsfw, takes place in the #izspacetrash universe NSFW 18+ Warning: Petplay, Zussy, Choking, Power play, Power theft, Over-stimulation, flirtatious bullying 

Back on Irk, coupling is illegal. It’s a big deal for humans because they can’t name a rock without forming an emotional attachment, for Irkens however, there’s no reason for the law to even be in place. As a species we have evolved past the need to interact with others. Every individual in the empire has the potential to be a sturdy, self sustaining island unto themselves. We’re built better than every sentient stain in all the known everything!! We have YET to encounter anything that even compares to our size and MIGHT. The last fertile cluster of Irkens died out a thousand decades ago. Every irken is cloned and easily replaced if not functioning at maximum capacity.

So, the desire to do more than indulge yourself is...low. There’s no reason to involve another irken in the matters of ones…..self congratulation.The practice of an EMOTIONAL and spiritual coupling fell out of favor long before we learned to control our natural impulses. 

If this is all true (and it is), how can I feel so much for the vicious neanderthal that calls me his? Dib was working on one of his drones as I sat in the dark pocket of the lower bunk bed, the bed itself built into the wall of a home on wheels. Dibs white rectangular fat assed Arr Vee was parked behind a dunky doughnuts so that we could stay out of the sightline of main roads and siphon power to recharge the vehicles battery. See, the outside of Dibs roaming home looks like any other shitty old caravan. In fact, it is more like Dib’s own mobile base. The battered shell outside the chrome and black and blue innards of the crisp sterile mobile lab are no more than a clever disguise. An infuriatingly smart trick. It’s a trick wrapped around stolen Irken technology and it’s to our collective benefit that everything stays hidden. It’s more comfortable being a prisoner, knowing that Dib has become secretive of his most prized belongings. Legs crossed, back pressed to the wall, chin in hand I was thinking my thoughts. 

My hand drifted down my neck to trace the soft top edge of the lined matte black metal collar locked around my neck. I felt at the difference in texture between the soft barely there fuzz on my skin and the smooth cool metal. It had been locked there for thirty one days, ten hours, six minuets and eleven seconds. It’s some fluke of nature that Dib is as smart as he is. At one point in my career as an invader I theorized that as  humans grew taller, their brain shrunk to make up for the increase in body mass. With Dibs lineage, this is less so. As an adult he is only more cunning, more dangerous, more cloyingly obsessive, more driven. He neglects his sleep to work. He works with the single minded diligence of an Irken researcher. His drive to excel in his field transcends the greasy smelly differences between our kinds. The efficiency he commands my own technology with rivals that of a practiced PAK technician. He’s studied the things I left behind on earth for 14 of his years, and it shows. With a single steady bare claw I traced the shape of the emblem embossed onto my collar tag. Dibs skull shaped symbol, displayed in shiny silver across the front of my neck at all times. An unnecessary humiliation that marks me as one of many stolen treasures. I feel its shape on the bare pad of my finger and silently kiss my teeth, stung by the reality that Dib thought of it first. If the world was just, if things made sense, things would have been flipped, things should have been different. If I really am the more advanced life form, I have no excuse for his subjugation. Thirty one days, ten hours, seven minutes and forty fucking seconds.

From my dark hideaway I could see him, hunched over his desk with the posture of a scoliosis king. A bright white desk light illuminates the front of him and reflects off the cobalt blue shine of his protective eyewear. The blue strips of emergency LED light that mark out the floor area catch the underside of his form, and stripe the wrinkles of his sloppy mechanics smock in toxic blue slivers. Through the gap in the curtains in front of him, I could make out a flickering yellow street light. Dibs sigh broke through the silence. He set down his tool and leaned back in his chair, away from the open shell of the drone he’d been repairing. I watched him drag a long fingered skeletal hand back through his greasy weird hair, and watched the unruly sprig of bone and black people fur spring back up as his hand passed it. “You’re quiet.” The human announced, obviously. Before he could twist the rotating chair around to face me I let my hand fall into my lap and folded both hands neatly together. “My brain is loud.” It needed no explanation, but Dib had demanded the cause. Slouched back in his chair, I watched him copy how I had my fingers folded into each other. His eyebrows arched high on his forehead and crinkled his sweaty brow. “You’re thinking? You’re capable of thought?” He’d lick his loathsome incisors and grin. “Damn, I’ll have to correct my notes. I thought the metal parasite on your back did all that for you.” “IT’S NOT A PARASITE! I TOLD YOU! It’s as ME as the rest of ME!” The corners of Dibs eyes crinkled with delight as he watched me retrace the fact. “MY PAK stores the thoughts of my brain jelly- it’s not responsible for my depthy, nuanced original thoughts. It’s all to my benefit. Your simple animal mind can’t BEGIN to perceive the archives of information, understanding and theorizing, locked away between my two magnificent thought centers.” On my knees at the side of the bed, I pointed to my skull, illustrating the thing Dib wished to understand but could never fully unravel. He reached up to peel the lenses of the goggles from the hollows of his eye sockets. As Dib deftly replaced them with the large circular frames of his glasses, he spat noise at me. “You’ve beaten that dead horse to a pulp, Zim. I don’t think your PAK is any different than a circuit board hardwired to the brain of a roach. You’re just as animal as I am. Only, your issues stem from being part evil cyborg, and mine stem from trauma.” Sunny as a blistering summers day, he grinned at me. Smugness radiates from him like pulsar blips, and my innards are assaulted by tight gripping trembles. I tense my core muscles to keep my tymbal from rattling at the slightest provocation. With my antenna pitched slightly forwards, I can smell the pheromones on his sweat. I crossed my arms over my chest, raised my chin, curled my lip at him to flash fangs. “Tch. Zim is no creature. You’re the animal here. You have the technology to advance yourselves into a race of space faring monstrosities, and yet all you want to occupy yourselves with is the pursuit of earthly pleasure. Your kind construct elaborate rituals just to try and rutt against each other. It could be so much simpler!!!” Dib scratched his chin, nonplussed. “Yeah, I never really got all that either. We do have dating apps and that can simplify things if you don’t account for catfishing, and people who straight up lie about themselves just to get their dick wet.” I grimaced at the mental image of a wet human phallus. I re-contextualized the image in my head and imagined the organ as Dibs. I bit the inside of my cheek. “Sooooo… what? As you get older you stop exchanging meats, and instead swap false personal information?” Dib laughed, quick and dry, brimming with unearned superiority. “Oh, fuck- what you mean like what we did back in grade school?” He sat up, leaned in closer to me. Elbows folded on his knees he hunched closer. I could smell his breath on my antenna. Coffee and sugar and bacteria filled my senses and the stalks flicked quickly backwards at the olfactory intrusion. “Yeah I don’t really know why we did that. I have a theory it’s all metaphorical, some kind of mind manipulation game the government was playing with kids to get them to associate “love” with “flesh”. I mean, you know what “meat” alludes to, right?” My face screwed up as I searched my brain for obvious answers. “MMHhn. HHHMN. Pain? Obviously, pain. Emotional...badness.Maybe hormone tampering. Disease?” Dib was already getting out his phone, snickering to himself as he does when he knows something I do not. I kept going. “Death? Blood? Salt? Disgust? The inevitability of the cycle of consumption? How you’re all doomed to be slaughtered by a greater predatory force?” “No. No- what?” He cocked an eyebrow as he looked back up at me. I wanted to rip the piercing out of it. “No. Shut up and look at these.” Dib held out his portable telephone slab to me and on it I saw a digital gallery of meat related memes. The phrase “beat my meat” was prevalent. There were photos of hammers pounding sickly off grey slabs of deceased pig muscle, and a man dusting a sprinkling of salt or spice over a carved rib of bovine corpse.

My head pulled back, giving me the appearance of multiple chins of disgust. My gut churned as I turned my head away. “Why would you show me those??! THEY’RE REVOLTING!!”  

Dib frowned, irritated, and put his phone away. “The “meat” those memes are talking about? It references human JUNK- y’know, genitalia? The memes aren’t talking about actual dead farm animals. And, that’s what I’m saying.” He put his large warm hand on my shoulder and continued, sure to hold my eye contact as he put the curl of his thick broad thumb against my cloth covered collar bone. I tensed my guts to keep my tymbal from rattling. “The government has skool children trade literal meat, so we get the idea early on that we’re supposed to exchange our "meat" with people we're attracted to. So that way, we learn to breed, and the men in power get more workers and soldiers and grease for the wheels of their self destructing machine.” My eyes flicked to look at his hand- the long pale olive fingers, the beaten fight scarred knuckles. My gaze then returned to Dibs humorless expression. “That’s a… problem?” Dib groaned, he rolled his eyes, he took his hand off my shoulder. 

It slid down to my hip, his free hand mirrored the motion  and I was lifted up from the bed and onto my humans lap. He held me there and growled at me in frustration. “YEAh! Zim! It’s a problem! If people are going to have sex it should be their own choice to do so, it isn’t something we should be culturally brainwashed into accepting! And we don’t NEED to do it! Some people are asexual- some people don’t want children and-” Dib rambled, on and on, laying out the injustices of an archaic capitalist system reliant on the breeding whims of its workers. I couldn’t help but wonder how much of the argument was fueled by Dibs xenophilic leanings and revulsion towards his own kind. I gave less than a quarter of a shit about the very political tangent my human was going off on, but I did like how Dibs lap made for a nice sitting surface, and how the heat of his angry body felt against my skin. As Dib spoke I smoothed out the front of his damp black wife beater absentmindedly, my expression unmoved. As my hand rested in the center of Dibs chest, I patted him, I then mock pouted at him. “Poor Dib, how he’s been rejected by his own kind at every turn. How hard it must’ve been for you! Brainwashed into needing the fuck, harassed by the need for fuck with noooo options for how to obtain it!!”

That got him to glare at me, and my spine tingled for it. I grinned as he countered; “You’re missing the point.” And I kept going. “Addicted to the unknown feeling he can never hope to attain, his vile monster meat might have shriveled up without the wetness- like an unwatered flower! Like a rotting length of carrot! Like a bundle of seaweed on a beach, growing drier and nastier the longer it’s left alone, collecting nothing but mold and botfly eggs and-” Dib grabbed me by the throat. His hand closed around my throat. He gave a warning squeeze as he told me to shut up and I peeped in response. 

Lowly, my tymbal rattled. 

Dibs narrowed angry eyes softened as he caught the surprised chirp of arousal. 

The words on my tongue stalled at the tight curling of his long fingers as they overlapped my neck.

“Even if that was how things worked, I’m not at risk of that anymore, am I?” 

Dib looked at me with a gaze that implored an answer, and I shrugged coyly. As he frowned and squeezed harder I gagged, my stomach fluttered and a chirp rattled out of me far clearer than the first. 

"Mhhn. That's what I thought."

Dib hummed, his human purr was deep and infuriating. He used his free hand to shift my placement on his long thigh, so that I straddled his thigh as he choked me. My eyes began to water as he raised up his knee and gently bounced my vent against his leg. 

There is nothing playmates can do for eachother that a squidgyblit cannot also achieve the end goal of. However, being choked while your nemesis grinds your pleasure center against his leg hits differently. 

I moaned with a grimace. I scowled at him as he drew another choked out squirm from my body. Unpleasant as the sensation of constriction around my throat was, we both knew the short term strangulation wouldn't kill me. It was a comfortable routine and Dib continued his gloating games. 

"You think you can resist all this? You think you can resist the urge to get absolutely wrecked- by someone who's going to lovingly put all your pieces back together when he's done? You need me as bad as I need you, you fucking moron."

He’s wrong. I don’t need him. But, his games are so amusing, they’re so entertaining. It’s such a thrill to be obsessed over. If he ever knew that, it would all go to his head. As bad as he already was, there was ample room for things to get worse. Dib pressed his fingers up underneath my jaw and held my mouth shut. My growl came out as a choking sound, I tried to open my mouth wider and he put his free hand on my shoulder as a threat. “Shhh. You don’t need to talk right now. Why don’t you show me what you want?” I glared, I tried to hack out a rebuttal, but he didn’t want that. Pink heat spread across the skin of my face plate, I chirped and ground my slick vent slowly against the black jean fabric of his thigh.  In doing so, I inspired an unhinged smile to pull across his gaunt snout.

He released my throat and my posture bent, towards him as I gasped. My throat opened back up, and my PAK hummed softly as it began to replenish its oxygen reserves.

Dib patted my warm cheek with his hand. “That’s a good boy.” He mocked softly. I was well within my right to bite him. His hands settled on the bone of my hips, I watched his eyes pass over my head and point towards the bunk behind me. The curious gentle twitching of my antenna caught the heat of his words as they stood on end, and I lifted my chin to glare up at him. “Is that really what your brain was being so “loud” over? You’re still angry about our arrangement?” My lip twitched, it’s downwards arch could not have been more dramatic. “HOW could I not be mad about it? You know better than ANYONE what a powerful beacon of mayhem my existence is- that I can be controlled by someone as misshapen and weasley as you is a blistering amount of shame for Zim- full offense.” As I spoke his fingers laid over the small of my back, he rubbed along my tense lower spine and his gentle ministrations forced my aggressively postured antenna to lower. “Oh, full offense taken. But I know you’re happy about it. Deep down, somewhere in your cold blooded brain, there’s a tiny Zim just glowing over how it feels to be fully appreciated. You’re a hideously evil space terror, I can’t take that away from you by loving you. And I wouldn’t want to.” The heat in my face wouldn’t stop, the fluttering sickly feeling in my guts wouldn’t go away. Like knotted strings being unwound or spider web being gently tugged by a trapped fruit fly, the vibrations of his words unwound my nerves. I had to look away from him to speak, the weight of his useless human affection was too heavy to bare the brunt of head on. It was blasphemy that something a horny ugly alien said to me could mean more than the approval of any tallest. “MMMhhNNG. Stop making words.” I growled politely. Dib chuckled without malice, he curled in over me to press his lips to the crest of my skull. “You love serving me.” “Phheh. Zim loves nothing.” “You love what I’ve done to you, Zim. And I can prove it.” Dib lifted me up to move us onto the bunk bed, and bumped the front of his proportionally massive head against the shelf of the top bunk. “Fuck-ow,” “HAH!”

I reached up to hit the button on the bottom of the shelf, and the top bunk folded up against the wall behind it. As the mechanical components hissed, Dib rubbed his five head. “Yeah? That’s funny? You think your master getting brain damage is just hilarious don’t you?”

“If my “master” (I used my fingers to make mock air quotes) is dumb enough to turn his brain to garbage when we aren’t even under attack, he’s not showing mastery over anything, is he?” Dib dropped me out of his arms and onto the bed, I landed with a yelp of surprise though the impact came painlessly. “HEY!”

With his teeth clenched and his eyes narrowed Dibs hands flew over my body, grabbing and groping, pulling off boots and leggings, striping me of the new uniform I’d been given, replacing dark blue cloth with an expanse of green skin. There was ample evidence to suggest Dibs need was as urgent as my own, from his feverish actions to the telltale tenting at the front of his tight emo boy pants. He needed me. I gave a quick shiver twitch at the feeling of air on my exposed skin, and hissed at him. He pinned my chest down with one hand, and sneered at me as the other cupped over my pelvis. “Your standards are way too fucking high for someone who screws up constantly.” I grinned at him with challenging eyes as my legs folded up and opened. “Where would your challenge be if I lowered them, Dib?” His middle finger split the wet slit of my vent open. He traced the sensitive pink interior and I had no choice but to draw in an afflicted breath. The finger slid deeper, he brushed the base of my wriggling dwarf ovipositor, and the distraction sent my antenna fully back. “You, crave conquest.” I crooned, distracted. Sensations continued. I felt the shivers of pleasure in the back of my teeth, my tymbal rattled with quick twitching clicks each time his middle finger teased the inch length of my pink wiggly hot button. “You don’t know what I crave, Zim.” I cackled, light and airy and I gripped the blankets beside my face. I bit my lip and looked at him. His thumb slid into my slit and he gently pinched his fingers around my “dick”. I gasped sharply. I kicked out a heel as he pressed firmly enough to make me whine. I could not help how my eyes wanted to roll back into my skull at the continued friction, but I swear I caught the reddening of his cheeks before vision became meaningless. I do know. I chirped, I moaned, I rubbed my cheek into the soft blankets stained with floral detergent as the tingling feeling of goodness rolled from my loins up the rest of my body. I felt good, and I made it LOOK good. Dib likes to watch me writhe, and in return he  rubbed over and over, again and again he rubbed, till it seemed I was breaching a new level of tingly bliss with every passing second. “But, I know what you want, don’t I?” I groaned in disagreement, his fingers stalled on my sex, then his thumb rubbed small twitching strokes at it’s base. I trembled all over at the teasing agitation, and breathed out hard. “MHn, you’ve… got AN idea, of it.” Dibs motions were less practiced as he set out to release his tube steak from it’s denim cage, but he didn’t move his hand from the source of my sultry keening sounds. He wouldn’t, I had been so SO fucking good to him. Letting him work uninterrupted without a single complaint of boredom. I hadn’t tried to attack him in DAYS. It was a personal best record at the time. I was overdue for a reward.

“UHM, EXCUSE YOU??” Dib took his hand out of my vent and I sat bolt upright on my elbows, glaring at him in a sex flushed daze as I watched him inch the clothing down his nearly non-existent ass. “I WAS BUSY. Who said you could STOP?”

He pushed me back down, grabbed my leg and sharply fixed himself between my open thighs. “I’m not stopping, you know I’m not stopping you shrill shitty bedbug.” It spiraled into more routine. In the act of copulation I could always count on the sensation of his fingers sliding into my orifice to pull it’s tight walls steadily open. I could feel all the bumps and ridges, the rough calluses, the finger pad curling around my core and pulling delicious sensation from the thing inside me that made my guts twitch and tremble and rattle like a sack of angry crickets. It didn’t take much. I didn’t need long, and he wasn’t willing to hold off from indulging in the ambrosial clutch of a wanting Irken tunnel. I groaned as he withdrew three of his fingers from me, pulling with them a thin strand of pinkish slick that broke and collapsed over my cleft. I trembled, I hissed in disgust with myself as Dib aligned the head of his extraterrestrial shaft with it’s destination. As he looked down on me, he commanded. “Beg.” “What?” My head cocked, one antenna lifted while the other lowered, my hand reached up to wipe the pearling sweat from my brow. “Really???” He ground his length into the gooey mess he’d left my vent in, I grit my teeth as my tymbal rumbled. “Yeah. Really Zim.” “Mhgghh.” Eyes closed I tensed as the friction of dick on dick action swayed my compliance. “ Plleeeeeaaaase.” “Please what?~” I tried to scowl at Dibs goading, but his grinding made me bite my own tongue. “You have to say it, pet. I won’t give it to you unless you ask properly.” The nickname is a scorning stinging wound that burbles and pops like a pollution born wound, it feels like a hot sudden burn, it catches me the way his fingers do when they clamp around my most intimate points. In the most pathetic of tones and volumes, I answer my mate; “Please, please fill me with your cum, master Dib.” I was rewarded by a hand coming to stroke across my skull. He cradled the dome of my head and caught one of my antenna stalks between his fingers. With the same care he gave my cock, he gently strokes the black hairs to reward me. “Good boy. Good bug.” When the rutting commences sense tumbles out the window in a broken screeching fury, like an escaped chimp on meth, like a rat on fire making a break for water. I lose my fucking mind to the reactions of my body. The vehicle rocks under us with the power of Dibs mighty  thrusts.He fills me so deeply with his oversized ovipositor, I can feel his pulsing want bulging against the skin of my stomach at full hilt. When he finally spills in me I am so wound up that I have already hit my climax twice over. I snarl, I lean into him and the lips I have put to his salty skin part so I can taste his sweat on my tongue. My jaws open wider, and as Dib grunts, at the height of his peak, I bite hard enough to puncture his fragile skin on the edge of my teeth. The red taste of metal is smeared over my lips, on my tongue, over the pasty tan palette of his shoulder muscle. Dib hisses air in through his teeth. “You couldn’t- you couldn’t help yourself, could you?” His panting breath stalls his words, a red tinted smile spread across my fuck drunk face. I licked my lips as I replied, and watched a thin trail of human red meet up with the black fabric of his shirt and diffuse into it. 

“No, no I couldn’t.” I hummed back at him. In the state of high endorphine swing I am not fully myself. Everything was brighter, lighter, more exciting. A hazy happy drugged exisence takes hold of me and sways me to Dibs whims. As he pulls out of me, he sighs with a shivering buzz. “Then, you’re not done yet.” In a matter of minutes Dib is redressed while I remain naked, wrists and ankles shackled to the four rectangular points of the bunk via metal shackles that the walls of the Arr Vee spat out. I was only just beginning to come out of my fogy mental state when my human retrieved a black blunt vibration wand from a drawer of tormenting devices. Over the following hour I grew more and more delirious as Dib wrung my body out for increasingly mind crushing orgasms. Things stopped having meaning, Dibs taunting words lost their sense, and I rattled straight through to my bones. That I could not pull my limbs in towards myself and protect my body from the assault of sensation had at one point been disquieting, but then and there, it encouraged me to let go of my resistance. I had let go of my fruitless delusions, I had given myself up to Dib, and Dib did not stop till I was crying with the intensity of multiple peaks.

It made up for everything else that had happened. The blinding beacon of his smothering affections absorbed me in it’s garish embrace as he unshackled me from the walls. He cleaned me, he held me in a folded blanket  till the shaking of my overwhelmed body stopped. My prickly insults bounced off him like harmless pebbles of sand.  The Dib stroked over my antenna, groomed them with the sex scented oils of his fingers, the Arr Vee reaked of the smell of our sins. Accepting Dibs terms of affection is illegal, but I’m defective anyways, aren’t I?

#screaming// #izspacetrash #zadr #zadr fuck fick because in this they bone #no fuckin minors allowed

[lookbluesoup]

OC Interview Meme

Tagged by @tarberrymentats and @wastelandwandererstuff�� B)

SORRY IT TOOK ME A WHILE TO GET TO THIS GUYS spring break kept me busy xD But I AM BACK NOW AND READY TO ANSWER THESE TAGS THANK U ALL <33 It’s been a blast getting to read about everyone’s Fallout characters ;w; I’m trying to get braver about leaving comments/reblogs but in the meantime just know I SEE YOUR AWESOME CHARACTERS and I APPRECIATE THEM.

This was actually a challenge answering from Nate’s POV xD There’s stuff that I KNOW ABOUT HIM AND WANT TO SHARE but he wouldn’t volunteer or he wouldn’t view the same way so… take it for what it is! And feel free to ask questions! ;w;

It is long. Long long long. Not sorry. 16, 19, 28, and 33 are my favorites c;

1. What is your name?

Oh. Wow. We’re starting this interview off with some tough ones, hunh? Uhh… hm. My name. My name… Let me think. (overly dramatic pause) Nathaniel Christian Ronan? Yeah. That sounds right.

2. Do you know why are you named that?

I was told my name means “God has given,” because my parents didn’t actually think they’d be able to have a second kid. That and Pops was an army chaplain - wanted me to have a name reflecting the faith. He was very literal in his approach. Ronan is an Irish surname, which seemed a lot more important 200 years ago than it does today. It means… uh, oh, shoot, I used to know… Don’t worry, it’ll come to me.

3. Are you single or taken?

(chuckles) Sorry folks, my roving days are over. Got a nosy reporter waiting for me back in Diamond City... whatever time I’ve got left I’m giving it to her.

4. Have any abilities or powers?

Powers? What, like, superpowers? That’d be awesome but, hah, no. Though I’ve been told my ability to talk myself out of trouble is uncanny. My martinis were legendary, and still would be if I find the ingredients for them in this apocalyptic wasteland. Friends say I’ve got a good ear for music… Oh, and ventriloquism. That’s always fun.

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

I know you are but what am I?

6. What’s your eye color?

Blue, like my grandmother. (blinks dramatically several times for emphasis)

7. How about your hair color?

Coal back. (runs a hand through it almost nervously) And holding up better than the rest of me, considering the complete lack of well-deserved grey hair.

8. Have any family members?

I have a son, Shaun. Piper gave me roots, and Nat’s pretty much my little sister, too, at this point. The Railroad’s been more family to me than most of my own blood ever was.

9. Oh? How about pets?

Legs Washington, an orphaned radstag I brought to the Castle. He’s a bit of a mascot for the men, follows Shaun everywhere. Yeah, it’s adorable.

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like?

You guess? Look, after this interview, I’m taking you to the Castle to meet them yourself. Your life will be changed. There’s plenty to dislike about the Commonwealth, enough to go mad over. It’s not exactly the charming old homestead of days gone by. But we’re making it better one day at a time.

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

Hah! “Duck and Cover” is a big one. Got me suspended from Railroad HQ once, though. I still say that was Deacon’s fault. I like long walks through the woods, playing baseball with Shaun, and a General’s work is never done but it does bring fulfillment. I like all those activities infinitely better when Piper’s around. Is that mushy? God, that sounds mushy. (smiles shamelessly)

12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before?

Yeah. Some deserved it… some I’m still trying to make up for.

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

(stops smiling) Yeah. I have. You want a kill count? Six-word soundbites about all the blood and screams and the way men look when they realize they’re about to die? It’s not a fun fact. It’s not fun. Next question.

14. Name your worst habits?

I’m afraid that information’s classified. I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. OH! LITTLE SEAL. That’s what Ronan means! Yeah, you know, like, selkie babies.

15. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

Aha… seriously? I’m Pipersexual, end of story. Unless you count the undying affection between my best mate Deacon, and me, which I’ve been told occasionally inspires jealousy. Honestly, I never gave putting a name to my romantic inclinations much thought. It’s always been women, but maybe I just never met the right man.

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

Piper, for sure. She’s - the way she sees the world? It gives me hope. She’s brave, brave enough to fight for what she believes in. No matter how bad it gets she always finds a light to hold onto, somehow, and keep going. And she’s genuine. I didn’t know what courage really was until I met her. Scribbles’ friendship is… a hell of a lot more than I deserve. I wouldn’t be the same without it. And, God, she’s funny. Sweet, and - a-ha, hm… we’d be here all day if I tried to list all the reasons why I love her.

I also have immense respect for Nick Valentine. He’s a good guy. Without ‘im, I might still be chasing my tail out in the woods somewhere. Or worse. Nick was a friend to me when I needed it most, put everything on the line to help me find my son - didn’t even hesitate. I’ll never be able to repay him for that.

17. What kind of animal are you?

One of a kind. (winks)

18. Do you go to school?

The Commonwealth has a way of schooling everyone, doesn’t it? I’m a bit too old for arithmetic and hall passes, but I never stop learning, if that’s what you mean.

19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?

I’-ve… been down that road before. (breaks eye contact abruptly) Times were uncertain enough when Shaun was born. Now? Scribbles and I roll the dice every day of our lives. Asking her to marry me – starting over – was the scariest thing I’ve ever done. A baby would be, uh, a really big change. (smiles briefly, uncertain) Maybe if – no, I don’t know. Piper’s never shown any desire for something like that. If she did – even if she did... (sighs) I – look. Let’s just move on, okay?

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

Oh yeah, I have an ensemble of groupies that follow me around the wasteland with a pack brahmin and an eyebot.They pitch my tent for me and cook all my meals. I pay for services with my autograph instead of caps. (rolls eyes, but keeps a smile)

21. What are you most afraid of?

Losing someone I love. I know we don’t get any guarantees out here in the wasteland, but… loss never gets any easier. It makes it hard to open up, y’know? I spent a long time keeping folks who cared about me at arm’s length, and some days it’s still a challenge.

22. What do you usually wear?

What you see is what you get! Derbys, slacks, a shirt as white as I can get it in these conditions, and a black vest, because that never goes out of style. My favorite hat is - take a look at this. It’s a bicorne. Has anyone worn that since the French Revolution? It’s great. I love it. Piper doesn’t.

23. What’s one food that tempts you?

You know what I miss? Chocolate. I’d kill for chocolate. … kidding.

24. Am I annoying to you?

Hah! I married a journalist. This is just another Tuesday.

25. Well, it’s still not over!

Look, if I’m not back by seven…

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

I mean… it’s not like anyone’s ‘wealth’ compares to what it was like before the war. I’m not living off charred molerat, but I certainly won’t be moving into the Upper Stands anytime soon. Most of what I have, I made myself.

27. How many friends do you have?

More than I deserve. Piper and Deacon are probably my two best friends though. Nick, Preston, and Kent oughta be mentioned, too.

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

You mean those damn perfectly preserved slices stuck in the Port-A-Diners? God, I’ve tried everything. I spent an entire afternoon trying to break in. What is the glass even made of? I couldn’t put a scratch on it. You have to just keep pushing the button. Over and over. I’m convinced it’s all some Vault-Tec conspiracy. There is no pie. The pie is a lie. Piper says she managed it once, but I don’t believe her.

29. Favorite drink?

Nuka cherry! No question.

30. What’s your favorite place?

There’s a spot up at the top of Diamond City. I mean the top top, even higher than the Stands. Clear night with a full moon? You can see for miles. Can’t be beat.

31. Are you interested in anyone?

You’ve - been listening, right? Aha, was I unclear about being madly in love?

32. That was a stupid question…

You’d be surprised how often it gets asked. (chuckles)

33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

Lake. Definitely. I’m marginally less likely to get eaten there. That being said, I was up in Maine once, went out to pick lure weed. You know, those radioactive yellow flowers that grow in muddy ponds? Bad idea.Terrible idea. Maine is a terrible place and I will not be building a summer home there e-ver.

34. What’s your type?

Kickass reporters with the brightest hazel eyes you’ve ever seen, hair like Aphrodite, and a smile to make you melt.

35. Any fetishes?

Look, you’re very nice. Really. And I appreciate the interest, but ah, this isn’t any of your business. Only one person gets to ask me about those and - you aren’t her.

36. Camping or outdoors?

Camping? Oh man, those were the days. An RV trip would be the bomb. It’s not much of an option these days. But I’m used to sleeping rough, and I gotta admit, it has its charm.

#anyone who hasn't done this is tagged #nate ronan #meme #tag #oc interview #screenshot #pipan #piper x sole #fallout #fallout 4

[thejonzone]

Jon Writes a Year-End List

My favorite songs of 2020, alphabetically by artist

Bedouine (Margo Guryan cover)- The Hum

The original Guryan version is good but Bedouine’s take is cleaner, all the better to emphasize Guryan’s blissful songwriting. I could listen to the chords in the chorus forever.

Bob Dylan- I’ve Made Up My Mind to Give My Heart to You

It’s nice to hear Bob sing a yearning and clear-eyed love song. And the way he stretches out his words gives the whole thing a confidence that’s easy to get lost in. 

Boldy James- Giant Slide

Boldy had a great year, and it’s The Price of Tea in China with Alchemist producing that stood out to me. 

Empty Country- Becca

I don’t go to music festivals anymore, but listening to this album makes me dream of hearing it live, while being dehydrated, sweaty, feet hurting, holding in a p*op, a late afternoon sunburn loading. I want the whole thing!!

fawning, Rui Gabriel ft. Jack Riley- God

Toss it on the cloudy day walking playlist!

Frances Quinlan- Went to LA 

Great cathartic yell in this one. Quinlan builds up a palpable tension here. It rocks.

Judy ft. Jack Dolan, jommis- Say What U Mean

You’ve got to imagine these fellas knew they had put a few catchy melodies down while trying to out-croon each other.

Kurt Vile ft. John Prine (John Prine cover)- How Lucky

A Prine acolyte with a feature from the man himself. RIP.

Lala Lala, Grapetooth- Valentine

Kind of like a slow-dance song at nightmare prom. I love the percussion and Frankel’s villainously-low voice.

Lil Durk- Street Affection

The range of emotions Durk can access and scroll through is impressive.  

Miranda Winters- Little Baby Dead Bird

Scuzzy guitar and violin create a hypnotic effect in this evocative dirge. Miranda Winters is such a good singer. Check out her main band, Melkbelly-- they put out a great album this year!

Nap Eyes- Mark Zuckerberg

Two guitars: one is pointy, the other is chugging. That is the correct way to do two guitars.

Noname- Song 33

This song is 70 seconds. 70! Noname casually negates J. Cole and the song isn’t even about him. She’s so great. 

Ratboys- I Go Out at Night

Julia Steiner is on her The Hours shit in this melancholic fantasy of leaving and not returning. 

Rio da Yung OG, Lil Yachty- 1v1

I like how Yachty comes in on his verse! It’s been fun to see him back in action with his new Michigan friends. Rio is the star here, though. And Enrgy too. 

Soccer Mommy- yellow is the color of her eyes 

Sophia Allison’s delivery of “The tiny lie I told to myself is making me hollow” might be my line of the year. 

Swamp Dogg- Memories

The whole of Sorry You Couldn’t Make It is great, but for Swamp Dogg, who has covered John Prine, to work with the man before he died is a special accomplishment, and we’re better off that it’s recorded. 

Tall Juan- Irene

One of my favorite 2020 releases. And I’ll be a bit vulnerable here folks….when I am walking outside and this song comes on, I push my butt out a little bit and walk like I have rhythm and purpose. 

Tierra Whack- Dora

I’m so excited to see what Tierra Whack does, from her beat selection to how she jumps between flow and cadence. She understands herself so well. 

Non-2020-specific Music I Enjoyed, in Superlative Form

Group Vocal Performance Most Likely to Pierce Your Heartless Facade

Yesu Ka Mkwebaze

Best Song to Listen to if You are an 1850’s-era whaler in Your Feels

Mary Ann

Favorite Duet (Not Blood-Related)

Emmylou Harris and Herb Pedersen (but mostly Emmylou) create such an intricate and gorgeous melody on “If I Could Only Win Your Love”. Pedal steel heads and mandolin freaks, eat up.

Favorite Duet (Blood-related)

The Louvin Brothers- When I Stop Dreaming

Any longtime friends of the show know I’m a big fan of the singing duo The Louvin Brothers. They’ve got that golden country tone but it’s the blood harmony that turns these guys into something else entirely.

And here’s the kicker, folks. Emmylou covered When I Stop Dreaming! How coincidental for all of us reading this End of Year list…. The Louvins are my preferred version, but Emmylou, that you could help me make this connection is enough, dayenu!

Most Surprising Use of a Song in a Network TV Show

"Yama Yama" by the Yamasuki Singers, Fargo Season 2

When I was a dishwasher at St. James Cheese Co., late 2016ish, this CD was in our back of house music rotation. It is a magical album-- a Japanese children's choir with French pop production (think a bunch of bells and shit). I never learned the name of the album while working there and it fell out of my mind until years later when, after remembering how much I loved it, realized I had no idea how to find it. The pain of typing different spellings of “japanese children’s choir” into google for days on end.....I literally yelled when Fargo used this in its Season 2 big boy shootout. *chef’s kiss*

Best Album by a Spiritually Hungry Musical Genius, Lapping Her Contemporaries in Arrangement, Theme, and Songwriting, Gone Before Her Time

Judee Sill’s self-titled debut. 

Best Use of a Second Keyboard in A Keyboard Solo

Fountains of Wayne’s Red Dragon Tattoo

Do I mean to say synthesizer? Not sure. RIP Adam Schlesinger and long live FoW. What a loss.

Best Vibes/ Song I’d Most Want to Show Ezra Koenig so That We’d Bond & Become Friends

Zibote

Best Lyrics Written by a Jew in 1920’s NYC Being Sung by Willie Nelson

Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea / to the open arms of the sea

Favorite TV Shows

Ramy

-Second season shook its focus on the titular character and oh am I thankful. Not that Ramy himself isn’t great, he is, but the entire cast here deserves attention. The Uncle Naseem episode. The Uncle Naseem episode. Ahem. The Uncle Naseem episode.

Joe Pera Talks with You

Lovecraft Country

-Small gripes and complicated plotlines aside, this anthology connecting gothic horror, racism, and American history is phenomenal. 

Small Axe

-The second installment in this series, Lovers Rock, which takes place at a party, is the vicarious shot in the arm you deserve, you little extroverted thing you. 

I May Destroy You

Betty

The Last Dance

-The first Bulls game I ever went to was the first game *without* Michael Jordan, at the beginning of the ‘98-’99 season. Bad timing.

The Chi

Schitt’s Creek

-This show was never about the plot. Am I allowed to say that? I’ve never cared less for a plot and more for a cast. Catherine O’Hara is in her own league above us all.

Jon Writes a Year-End List

In 2019, my roommate June and I took a road trip through the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I was out of a relationship, happily or unhappily I wasn’t sure yet, but along the way I downloaded Tinder hoping to meet a local who’d be excited to make out with me. There wasn’t much bite on my line, but by the time we reached Marquette, largely due to my good looks and charisma I’d orchestrated some type of group date with June, me, a girl from Tinder, and her friend. 

We met at a dingy karaoke bar and drank for cheap. Nobody wanted to hear me sing, but I got on stage anyway and gave “Willin” by Little Feat a go. Some guy at the bar in a maroon work shirt looked at me, scoffed, and left to smoke outside. The four of us weren’t hitting it off, even with alcohol. I and the friend made a plan to sing “Mommas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow up to Be Cowboys'', but she quickly abandoned the duet after we had begun, citing a lack of vibes.   

But we kept singing and drinking and hours later I was leaning against the bar, waiting to order, standing next to maroon-shirt guy who had so easily shrugged off my existence earlier. What caught my eye as I stood next to him was a Star of David tattoo on his forearm. And sure enough, the name tag stitched onto his shirt identified him as “Isaac”. Well I’ll goddamn be-- this guy was frickin Jewish! I was shocked-- I assumed he was goy in the same way I assumed everyone I ran into up there would be. 

For just one unconscious assumption (I’m the only Jewish person in this Marquette karaoke bar) to be wrong felt great. My assumptions are really awful. I assumed maroon-shirt hated my guts. I assumed these two girls we were drinking with thought I was a loser too. I assume people don’t like me or respect me or have any interest in getting to know me. I tell awful stories about myself to myself, and my assumptions about the world are limiting and boring! With patience, “guy at bar who kinda scowled at me” had all of a sudden turned into “my new friend Isaac” who, after a few minutes of conversation, I “asked to bum a cigarette from.”

One of my favorite shows of 2020 was Joe Pera Talks With You. I still remember watching Joe Pera’s stand-up for the first time, and then rewatching and rewatching, savoring his cadence. He dressed and spoke like a grandpa, replete with pitch-perfect, kinda-gross mouth sounds, stutters, and low-but-driving energy. It’s a good bit, and Joe has morphed it into probably the funniest, sweetest, and least-pandering show of 2020. What I love about this show is its foundational belief that anyone can surprise you, you just need to give yourself time to notice.

I didn’t end up making out with anyone but I did wake up the next morning with the worst hangover of my life. Wake up, barf, whimper. As June drove us out of Marquette, I could barely keep my eyes open. I did notice, however, a massive, wooden structure jutting out into Lake Superior.

It is this same Lake Superior structure that Joe Pera Talks With You fixates on for its first shot of Season 2. Yes, this is an Adult Swim show that takes place in none other than Marquette, Michigan! Which is weird. Think about other movies, shows, or books that take place in the U.P. You can’t! Even zooming out to include the larger Upper-Great Lakes region leaves us with an almost-empty net: The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald by Gordon Lightfoot and titular Gatsby’s origin story on Lake Superior. These are stories of hard living and life and death on the dangerous Great Lakes. But neither of those are specific to the Upper Peninsula.   

Regions are an easy if reductive lens with which to attempt to view and understand people. In 2020, broad and sweeping generalizations about large swaths of people continued to gain power. There was the movie adaptation of JD Vance’s ahistorical Hillbilly Elegy. Woolly-eyed liberals trotted out fake maps of a preferred America that holds only the “good” blue states, not at all engaging in the history of racism and voter suppression that got us here. Besides the fact that Georgia went blue. And Democratic strongholds like California, New York, and Chicago betray any notion of a “better” America. The sins of this nation are not cordoned off into one section or time zone, no region is monolithic, and most importantly, no person can be explained away with a quick sentence.

There is no regional monolith more widely misunderstood than the Midwestern gestalt. Fargo (the show) does a great job of serializing this one type of Midwestern character-- they say “oh sure, happy to help” and they’re murderers. So for Joe Pera to settle his show in the U.P. is a fun choice. Most Americans are probably hard-pressed to conjure an accurate mental picture of who the U.P. is, so Pera creates his own flavor of a seemingly-recognizable small Midwestern town.

In the first episode, Joe walks us through the bean arch he’s growing. Why grow snap beans? “Beans are straightforward.” Straightforwardness, or the appearance of, is central to Pera’s charm. Pera’s shtick is walking the audience through a basic task that can serve as a metaphor for a larger existential question. This conceit isn’t new to Pera, but it has been en vogue recently, with shows like Andy Daly’s Review and the new HBO show How To with John Wilson. These shows present a simple stated goal that obfuscates a larger, more complex grapple. 

Joe Pera Talks With You is incredible and endearing because of the genuine tone Pera gives his tight-knit Marquette. We’re getting deranged lunatics like Conner O’Malley and Dan Licata to write jokes for 70-year old Michigan grandmas at a salon. The show trades in the perceived Midwestern folksiness for a punchline, yet doesn’t lose itself in irony or resentment. 

Every character in the Joe Pera universe has the opportunity to be profound. Pera gives every character the patience they deserve; even O’Malley’s berserk Joe Rogan listening-caricature Mike Melsky gets incredible moments of vulnerability. It’s a rare comedy: self-aware but not self-obsessed, sweet but not gross, and uniquely funny.  

Nowhere else on TV are you going to see such consistently great acting. Some of the best working comedians are in this season. Conner O’Malley has found a way to tap into his unsettling grotesque that is a pleasure to watch, playing characters at the ends of their ropes, shrieking. Jo Firestone is hilarious and essential as Joe’s doom-prepper girlfriend Sarah. We get guest stars like  genius Carmen Christopher. Even one-line role players like Joe’s teacher-coworker, who says Joe and Sarah go together “like desk and chair,” knock it out of the park. 

The questions at the heart of Talks With You feel more pronounced in a year of death and isolation. How do we connect with people? How can we really be there for our loved ones? How can we feel comfortable in our own skin? The show came out pre-pandemic but Pera’s touch and pacing is universal.

It’s difficult not to compare Talks With You to How to with John Wilson. The two shows have a lot in common. Both protagonists are soft-spoken, and speak at an arrhythmic clip. John Wilson’s voice is affected just like Pera’s; both vocal deliveries are meant to engender trust by signaling to us that they’re lacking some social confidence. But I don’t buy Wilson’s shtick as much as Pera’s.

John Wilson’s show is not straightforward in the same way Pera’s is, and the show suffers under the added weight of pretense. Wilson’s tangents lead us to places that barely fit under the established thematic umbrella and feel forced. On memory, Wilson’s adventure with the Mandela Effect turns from fascinating to boring as the truthers devolve into sketch characters, viewing simple spelling errors with magnifying glasses. “How to Cover Your Furniture” spends an upsettingly long amount of time with an anti-circumcision advocate as Wilson works through the question of how much we are allowed to change parts of other people. Meant to appear as if they effortlessly fell into place, these characters feel shoe-horned in.

Both characters and shows are performative authenticity, and Joe Pera and John Wilson’s whole deal is their status as observer. This year, many of us have become observers. I know I have: unemployed, unable to see people, watching death counts climb, sending money to various bail funds and rent relief to people and organizations near and far. There is a responsibility to being an observer. It is not some callous task. Being an effective observer means allowing your subject the space they need to be as they are and not foisting your own nonsense onto them.

In Joe Pera’s America, it’s understood that everyone is weird. By virtue of being human, we are all weird, off, we do confusing things, and say dumb stuff that doesn’t make sense. Even you’re a weird freak. John Wilson’s subjects seem like circus animals, squeezed in front of the camera for their fucked-up little flip. I can’t shake the feeling that John Wilson is making fun of the people he’s observing. Pera’s observations are rooted in the fairness that comes from seeing humanity in people-- every person has an equal chance of surprising you with how weird they are if you just make them comfortable and let them talk. We owe that to each other.

To be fair, these shows are also very different. Wilson’s found-footage, documentary style is ingenious, hilarious, and completely not the vibe that Pera and Co. are going for at all. And region here is everything. Wacky stuff happening in NYC? Eh, isn’t that par for the course over there? Wait, a show set in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula? Ok...now that I’ve never seen. 

Obviously I was wrong about Isaac in Marquette, just as any broad assumption about a region and its people will be. I actually learned that Jews have a significant relationship to the U.P. And I found similarities between my own Jewish history, covering a similarly nebulous area of the Rust Belt/Midwest, and my U.P. cousins. Yes, home was closer than I thought, even across the length of Lake Michigan. Yes, people don’t just hate my guts. Yes, we can overcome lazy assumptions and we can even connect with people. We can make a better world. It just requires patience and listening.

Now, on to my thoughts regarding Fiona Apple’s landmark album Fetch the Bolt Cutters...

[evakfanficsrecs]

 EVAK FANFICS RECS / PART 6

ONESHOTS:

cards and drunken propositions by Bellakitse  ★ Summary: “Eskild, please tell me I didn’t make a fool of myself in front of Even,” Isak begs, groaning when Eskild winces theatrically. “Oh, god, what did I do?” “You mean besides rubbing yourself against him like a cat and started taking your clothes off?” Eskild asks tentatively, giving him a pitying look when Isak lets out a noise of death and mortification. “If it helps he seemed to be enjoying your…attention?” * Isak doesn't remember the night before but he knows he made a fool of himself in front of this crush.

I Don't Know About You, But I Could Think Of A Metaphor Or Two by i_once_wrote_a_dream Summary: He knows he’s fucked up. Crazy. Literally. Clinically insane.

sugar spreads happiness by Bellakitse  ★ Summary: Isak and Even try to bake cupcakes for kose, this time no one interrupts their time in Isak’s kitchen.* Set after the almost kiss of episode three.

MORE UNDER THE CUT

stretching out for the sun by elspethelf Summary: The sun wakes Isak the morning after the Kosegruppa party.

isak x even | kisses are free by BloonStuff Summary: When Isak fails to get Even a present for his birthday or valentines day, Even sets out to convince him why that just doesn't matter.

a night out by Bellakitse Summary: Isak and Even meet at a club, Isak gives him a hand.

That's cheating! by Minkefreak Summary: Even's POV of the pool scene and what might have happened after ...

the one where they don't study by Schedazzle Summary: Bringing his breathing under control again, Isak smiled. “I love the way your face changes when you draw,” he said softly, hearing the dreamy sound of his voice but didn’t care at all.

And He Calls Me Moonlight by tootiptopteapot  ★ Summary: He’s drunk and stumbly and his lips taste sharp like a lick of blue-raspberry vodka, but he’s soft and safe in Even’s arms.

You Scare Me (And I Love It) by i_once_wrote_a_dream  ★ Summary: secret admirer!au; He’s chill. Except he isn’t when he feels something hit the back of his head. He doesn’t dare look back, but his face is flushed and heat pools around his ears and neck. He sits up straighter and forces himself to rewrite the last sentence. Alternatively, Isak's got a secret admirer and Even is persistent.

I Like You A Latte by i_once_wrote_a_dream Summary: coffee shop!au; It’s not love. Not yet. But Even’s certain it will be.

call me any, anytime by elspethelf Summary: wrong number!au; Isak texts Vilde... except it turns out not to be her.

FIFA madness by Bellakitse Summary: Even and Isak are playing FIFA, when Even questions Isak's awesomeness at paying the game. Isak is going to prove him wrong, or he would if Even could keep his hands to himself.

CHAPTERED:

Under a Pink Neon Light by wylielx Summary: Shirtless sweaty bodies grinding up against each other, and that’s when Even sees him. An angel under a pink neon light, dancing on a pedestal, moving his hips from side to side, eyes closed, only piece of clothing being a jock strap that fit the shape of his ass perfectly. Ruffled curls adorning his forehead, bouncing around like they’ve got a mid of their own. His body glistening from sweat and Even can see the rise and fall of his chest as the angel faces the ceiling and dances as if in his own world. He’s beautiful. Looks pure and innocent in ways that make men want him more. Even is so gone for a boy whose name he doesn't even know. Or, Even and Isak meet in a strip club.

Sleep Is For Dreamers by unfancyandy  ★ Summary: Isak's always had a complicated relationship with sleep.

Making shades of purple by rumpelsnorcack  ★ ✓ Summary: soulmates!au; His whole life, Isak had known his soulmark was different to those around him. Well, that was a lie; it hadn’t been his whole life. But it had definitely been something he was aware of for as long as he was aware that soulmarks and soulmates existed.

If Only by Stria (Asia117) ✓ Summary: Written for the prompt: “we’ve been chatting online and we get on really well and oh that explains it” au (bonus: i totally told you about my crappy ex oops it you).

run boy run by pansexuaIeven Summary: In the season 1 timeline, Eva decides to transfer schools after all and ends up at Elvebakken. When her and Even become friends and decide to fake date in order to make their exes jealous, what happens when Isak and Even meet?

You by hellagroovy Summary: You stood in front of the building with your friends. You wore a light blue denim jacket and your hair was blonde. A cigarette behind your ear. I had never seen you before. Somebody told me you had a girlfriend.

flower boy by artcmonkeys ✓ Summary: Even comes into the flower store in which Isak works.

with love, from anonymous by cosetties & iriswests ★ ✓ Summary: secret admirer!au; Isak just wants to get his coffee in peace, Even has a crush, and there's a secret admirer on the loose.

The Boy Who Wasn't Scared to Love But to Be Loved in Return by kassie Summary: Even's POV on all scenes that happened during season 3, plus a few AU scenes mingled in-between.

I'm Not A Baby by cuteandtwisted  ★ ✓ Summary: childhood friends!au; "This is Even, my bro. The part about him being my personal servant is kind of true though.” “Your bro? Your bro?! What the fuck, Isak? We need to get rid of this whole masculinity thing they teach you at Nissen.” aka, Isak and Even are childhood friends.

poppin' pills is all we know by tomlinsoln ✓ Summary: au in which Even comes into the bathroom instead of Emma 

Deeper by the Hour by nusmag Summary: Isak finds a poster on a bench in Olaf Ryes Plass. Among a phone number, a drawing of a guy, and the promised 500 kroner per week for the job, it reads: “Even Bech Naesheim needs a support person and boyfriend.” Isak would usually dismiss things like this, but something makes him google the name and… oh. Well. Eskild has been going on about how Isak needs to be quicker in paying the rent. It’s not for anything else that Isak’s considering applying. And if he takes the poster with him so that no one else may find it, then so be it.

making new clichés by strangetowns Summary: childhood friends!au; They are young teenage boys who don’t have jobs, and thus don’t have money except for when they beg their parents for allowances. The stunning lack of creativity that goes into their activities just goes without saying. What doesn’t go without saying is this - Even doesn’t care that they don’t do anything exciting. They could be lying on their backs for hours watching the ceiling and he’d still rather be there than anywhere else in the world. As long as Isak is there, he will have a good time. This is a thing he knows to be true. - In this universe, Isak and Even are best friends. Some things are different; some things stay exactly the same.

"You don't know it yet, Isak Valtersen, but you're mine" by Jules_poupard Summary: secret admirer!au;  Even saw Isak on the first day of school, but in this universe, he isn't quite as patient as the Even we know. He couldn't resist Isak, so he has to let him know. He starts to leave him little notes, relishing in the blush that always spreads over Isak's cheeks and the smiles that steals its way across his face. Isak has never had a secret admirer, and he isn't used to being doted on. He won't admit it, but he definitely likes it. And neither of them know it yet, but they are both so gone for the other.

love and condoms by kassie  ★ ✓ Summary: Isak was about turn on his heels and say “Fuck it” and go home, when a tall, slender-looking boy approached him from down the aisle. Shit. “Finding everything okay?” he asked once he reached Isak, his face entirely consumed by his smile. Judging from his choice of clothing, the boy definitely worked here. And, by the black letters scribbled on his name tag, the boy’s name was Even. Great.. Or: Isak owes Eskild a favor and Eskild sends him out to buy condoms where he runs into a tall boy who is a little too eager to help him.

Those, who could not hear the music. by UniversalParadox_13 Summary: In this story, Isak and Even are ballet students and collide while preparing for a play they’ll be performing in. It’s odd and exhilarating, and does not make sense to their yearning bodies and vulnerable hearts, until it does. But Even is in a steady relationship and Isak has no place for love his life, so there is that.

Scene Three, Take Two by folerdetdufoler ✓ Summary: Isak is 23, a student in the veterinary program at NMBU, and working an internship at a clinic in Kongsvinger. He hasn't seen Even in three years, but randomly bumps into him on the street when he's visiting his mom in Oslo.

(★ - personal favorites | ✓ - completed fics)

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