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#they have consumed me with every iteration

headspace-hotel · 1 year

Text

some times i see people talking about the Earth and climate change saying things like "now i know it is difficult to deal with utter hopelessness, terror, and visiting the thoughts of death"

and it's like wow I am so deeply sorry about the suffering. but...concern. Concern. Tell me, am I missing something important? Why do I feel a sense of hope for our planet? Am I a lonely fool? Have I been consumed by naïveté and misguided optimism?

That would be weird. It feels weird. It feels like I would be well suited to despair. My natural temperament is Mortal Terror making my body crushed for a thousand years at the bottom of the deepest trenches of the ocean. I've thought before "I can't live any more. This exceeds the tensile strength of the human spirit."

And then? After irreversible catastrophic failure of the soul, there is...what?

We try to imagine the future where we fight to save our home and it is very painful. The resistance feels so small and the machine of death feels so vast. But something's missing.

Everyone else is missing—the plants, trees, bugs, beasts, and creatures. Hello? Are the other humans seeing this? Nature wants you to know that she is not a princess in a tower. Look! Look at the chaos moving through every cell! Iterating! Adapting! Becoming! Thriving! Watch the pollinators tirelessly at work, observe the mycorrhizal network in the forest floor distributing the rich fruits of decay and photosynthesis for every inhabitant! Pay attention! We belong here too. They feed and shelter us, give us the very air we breathe, and in return we plant and propagate, cull, thin, and burn, shape, trample, till, shepherd and sprout seeds. Our species can look toward the future, to the world of our descendants. We can call every plant and animal by name and teach our children to use and care for them responsibly. We can feel this anger, pain, and grief on behalf of the family of Life, OUR family, and we can love the smallest beetle and the humblest moss.

Look at it! This thing is nothing like me, it does not benefit me, it has no use or purpose for me, but LOOK at it! Look at its intricate structure! Look at the marvelousness of its behaviors and biological functions! Look at its uniqueness throughout the whole universe! Look at it, and see its infinite value!

I saved a baby tree from the scorching hot gravel of a parking lot. I watched it grow and thrive in the hands of its caretaker. Many more followed, trees and herbs and flowers, rescued and carefully placed in cups and old tubs that once held yogurt and sour cream. This is so strange, I thought. They're everywhere, offering themselves for free, and no one thinks to take them. Everyone thinks transplanting a tree is hard and that nothing grows on the edge of the pavement but weeds. But it's so easy??? This is weird. Plant Nurseries Hate Her: Get Free Plants With This One Weird Trick.

I protected an old barren garden patch where nothing had thrived from being mowed and weed-whacked, and transplanted little plants that I found. I marveled at the bees that came. Chicory bloomed, then asters and goldenrod. I shed actual tears over a spicebush swallowtail. I ordered some milkweed from the internet, and the monarchs came for them. Less then twenty-five bucks for a divine experience like this. Wow, everyone else really needs to know!

I started volunteering at a nature center, and was allowed to transplant flowers where they sprouted in inopportune locations. I collected tons of seeds all fall and winter long.

There is much, much more, all of it bigger than I ever would have imagined. But this spring there were more birds, in number and in species, than I'd ever seen in my back yard before. Chickadees, swallows, finches, nuthatches, jays, cardinals, warblers, sparrows, woodpeckers of every kind...I remembered just a couple years prior when all I ever saw out there was a couple grackles or starlings or robins, with the occasional sparrow. Those birds come in flocks rather than couples now. And then the bumblebee arrived. An American bumblebee, endangered now, a queen. For a few days she was always out there, would fly out and buzz around me when I came out to tend to my now-innumerable plants. It's nesting time for them. She chose this place I was creating. She saw that this place would take care of her.

A week ago, I discovered wild strawberries growing in my Mamaw's driveway. I found lyreleaf sage growing beside a gravel road. I've become a master of transplanting; I took several of each home. Yesterday, I saw a tiny, metallic blue bee, an Osmia mason bee. Today, I saw an oriole and a strange, very fancy fly. I see something new almost every day. Every day I am being irreversibly changed as a person. How did I ever fail to see how much this matters?

I said I feel hope...do I feel it? I don't think it's a feeling, I think it's a practice. It's being part of our communities and our ecosystems. Nature's interconnectedness is both reality and example: to survive, we take care of one another. And when one member of the community helps another thrive, it creates a cascade that increases the thriving of all. Just by existing, you help us all survive.

You can only take care of so many plants before you have to give some away. You can only hold so much knowledge before you have to give it away. I gave seeds to a dozen different flowers to my next-door neighbor and she invited me inside and wouldn't let me leave without food, and we talked about plants and trees. A family friend lets me have goats' milk and heirloom vegetables in exchange for help around the farm, and I listen to him talk about trees, bugs, and soil and learn so much I feel like I'm about to explode from knowledge.

Being a caretaker is unavoidably a community-oriented, community-forming thing. You can't grow plants all by yourself. Your garden will make too many tomatoes. Share them. Your milkweed will make hundreds and hundreds of seeds. Spread them. Wild blackberries invite you to take and eat. Your lonely retired neighbor invites you to talk and keep her company. Once you grow delicious fruits or little oak trees, you always have a reason to greet someone and say, "Look, it is a gift!"

We're not alone. We are not separate. We take care of each other. Every species, every individual. A single action of caretaking creates a cascade effect of thriving. A single unapologetic love for a creature creates a blossom of curiosity and fascination in everyone surrounding. It's so powerful.

As my chemical romance says "I am not afraid to keep on living"

#nature #community #plants #gardening #you are not separate from every other thing #the wonders #caretaking #plantarchy

2K notes · View notes

chokchokk · 10 months

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Can I request a San x Female Reader where It's her first time having sex and first time having an orgasmn. So San makes her squirt over and over before fuckin her. But at the end she notices blood and freaks out so he comforts her? Very smutty and fluffy please?

-AA

Im too embarrassed

dearest AA, “very smutty”, “very fluffy” and “too embarrassed” don’t co-exist in my universe, so i hope with this fic i could get some of your shame (?) away, babes <33 indulge in your desires and don’t hesitate to revisit me anytime !!! thank you for being my first requester xoxo

ʟᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴇ! | choi san x fem!reader

“Don't go around calling me baby right now, or I'll turn like the San in your dream.”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : Your boyfriend is a wet dream, but this only goes so far, when your real dream leaves you confused and most importantly, curious. San is more than happy to help.

“How does an orgasm feel like, Sannie?”

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff (slice of life-ish), smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 10k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : 1st time, sex with communication, first orgasm, foreplay, explicit consent, fingering, squirting, protected (!) penetrative sex, bleeding, after-care; san is a great boyfriend, san has a big dick, that is actually important to the plot, established relationship, living together, a lot of sweet pet-names, teasing, domestic humour

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : LMAO i’ll be honest i got carried away with the build-up (pls know this abt me; i’m a WHORE for build-up (sorry not sorry)) but if you want to jump to the spicy part immediately, go find the second border, the smut will start there!! enjoy in any way you want !!! <33 feedback would be greatly appreciated xoxo

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“Good night, Y/N. Dream of me~”, your boyfriend lulls, as you’re cuddled into his breast, San’s sturdy arm cushioning your body from below, stroking your head that’s under his. He just finished talking about his lucid dreaming recently, fascinated that he can remember more details now, but you interrupted his talking, when he iterated a fight to you where he got his nose bleeding.

“I don’t have to dream of you when you’re the dream already, Sannie,” you whisper, and with a giggle, he kisses your forehead. San has warned you about calling him ‘dream boyfriend’ multiple times, since he’s aways got, quote, “things to improve on”, but since it’s not dream husband yet, you’re left with no other description.

“Ohh, sugarplum,” he coos and and pushes your face deeper into the crook of his neck, “don’t say that.”

San is a special case in every which way; in the way he’s this buff guy with guns for arms that he uses to keep you warm when you sleep — in the way San is has the energy of a bull that he stashes away to sing his girlfriend a lullaby — in the way that the Choi San who has dated so many women in his past and hooked up with them (with no ill feelings in the present, of course) has settled down with you, Y/N, a woman with no prior experience other than the media she has consumed.

So you keep telling it yourself in secret. San is, and will forever be, a dream boyfriend. He’s as good to you as you are seemingly to him, but course the topic of sex, at least the lack thereof, crosses you two’s conversations from time to time.

It’s not like you had tried to save yourself for something, really not. It just… didn’t sound appealing to you, ever. You’ve shared to San that you don’t even masturbate that often, since you’ve never been able to get a satisfactory end— an orgasm— out of it. And while other men would laugh about such a thing, San has shown you nothing but understanding and support.

When you feel sorry for not being able to meet his sexual needs, he tells you he’s happy enough that you feel comfortable to share your discomforts with you. There is not one cell of his body that would mutate and judge you, San is fully devoted to your well-being.

What you forget sometimes is that while San is your first boyfriend, it’s your first time being a girlfriend, too. So being sorry for San is one thing, but wanting to love San more is another. At least you realised that this morning, when you woke up from your first ever wet dream.

You have been able to just ‘shake it off’ during the day and not think about it, but after San, being your soulmate he is, came up with the topic of “lucid dreaming”, and you could barely listen to his wild stories because of how distracted you were.

Maybe that’s why San thought you were tired and cuddled you to slumber so soon. Him cuddling you and getting your head under his chin is you two’s usual sleeping position, but well, huh… You’re not tired, not at all.

“I mean it,” you choke out, San humming, touched by your compliment, but of course he doesn’t know that by saying he’s a dream,you’re also referencing to how his hands were touching your private areas all around, his mouth in places that it’s never been in before in real life. ‘Tastes so good…’

“I love you so much, Y/N,” San exhales delightfully, fed by your fuzzy feelings, still caressing your head with gentle fingers, “but you know that I want you to hold me accountable.”

“Saaannie,” you murmur, your breath turning into a hot patch on his shirt, “just take it as it is.”

San notices your slightly agitated tone and chuckles, kissing your forehead again. “Y/N, my sugar-pie, what’s bothering you?” There has been no doubt in you that San wouldn’t catch on that you’re being weird, and though you’re really glad he did, it, for some reason, doesn’t make the topic any more easier.

“It’s—“, you begin to stammer, and with your struggle comes San’s immediate help. He shuffles back a little bit so he can take an analytical look at you, all blushed and worked up over a dream you can’t even remember the half of. San’s eyes are droopy, and while right now, it’s because he’s tired, in your dream, it was because he wanted to ‘eat you up…’

“It’s too embarrassing to explain.”

San gets the arm away from below and leans his head against his hand, propping himself up. “Embarrassing?”, he asks and pouts with a slight smile, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks. “Is it an embarrassing matter or just you who’s soooo easy to embarrass, huh?”, San grins and taps your nose one time with his finger to loosen you up, looking you straight in the eyes to give you all his attention. He’s showing to you that you, dearest, could never be embarrassing to him. Everything you do, he’ll take serious and anything you say, San will listen to it, as he’s shown you over and over again, reaffirming it to you every day and night.

‘I’m going to show you my love, all of it.’

San sees you licking your lips and putting your words together in your overwhelmed brain. You’re not nervous of how San will react, that is for sure, it’s just that… Where do you start? ‘Hey, boyfriend, I think I want to have sex with you?’ That does get the message across, but the words have to leave your mouth first.

It’s hard. You don’t think you’ve ever said the word, ‘sex’ in the context of… actually having it, let alone desiring it. San watches you spiral— starting to inhale, but then losing your words— and strokes over your head, humming “Just start with the basic outline—“

“I had sex with you in my dream.”

San stops stroking your head for a hot second and you two are just looking into each other’s eyes. San notices now how red you have become, how flushed you look, what a cute girlfriend you are for being embarrassed about this and shit, how lucky he is that you’re his and not anybody else’s girlfriend who you are so adorable playing with your hair right after you just dropped the “s-bomb” on him.

You don’t know what’s worse: Him, waiting for you to continue your talking before he can react to your … attention-grabbing introductory sentence, or you, not having anything to follow up. He probably expects you to tell your dream, but— but not in front of San himself, no! You’re quiet and continue to be, until he takes it upon himself to break the silence.

“… Did you wake up?”

Huh?

“What? Of course I woke up, I’m here now.”

“No, sweetie,” San wheezes softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, while you finally let your eyes stray away (his gaze is unbearable), “I’m asking whether you got to see the end of it.”

“The—“, you parrot him, and while you do San smiles sheepishly, apparently finding you so endearing while you are in mutilation, a foreign warmth growing in your stomach, “— end?”

“I just don’t want to scare you, Y/N,” San hums and twirls your hair around on his finger. “This is me asking where your head is in this situation.”

You blink and San pushes his lips out to indicate that he’s waiting for an answer, or at least something to give him to know if you’re in need of consolation or advice. “Uhm,” you inhale, “I… saw almost everything, I guess.”

His reaction could mean a lot. The dimple in his cheek getting deeper, his nose crunch, him sucking in his lip — it could mean a lot, but also so little.

“Almost everything,” San re-confirms, you know that this description is still very vague.

Gathering your shards of confidence, you murmur, “I mean… We saw each other naked often, so I think that’s why my brain could— do that, but when it came to that, it… You know. It surprised me.”

“That,” San repeats and by now, he definitely understands the superficial parts of your dream, but you have yet to drop any details. Was the dream a good one? Or well, was he good?

As expected, he wouldn’t dare to ask you that right now, looking at how you’re stammering awkwardly. You can still read it in his eyes though; his curiosity is asking you whether your dream has changed your attitude about sex, let it be for the better or worse.

You know San is going to show understanding regardless, right?

Yes, absolutely right.

“Y/N, sugar, we can talk about this tomorrow or any other day you like. I’ll keep it in mind, if that’s what you want.”

Maybe you should say something before San thinks the dream has made you negatively speechless. Well, it did make you speechless the whole day, but now, you’re almost bursting with the things you want to say, like they’re brewing inside you but not getting flavourful yet.

“No, Sannie,” you whine and put your hand on your eyes to hide yourself from his way-too sincere eyes. This isn’t how people do it in the movies or in the books. They usually just… get it on, no? Like they eat each other up, like it’s a necessity for survival, like eating to meet hunger, like quenching your thirst. You don’t know if this is a feeling like that. Whether the uncomfortable warmth inside you is truly the embarrassment but rather the reaction of your memories. ‘Let yourself be all over me.’

“Yes, sweetie,” San croons, removing his hand from your head to leave you by yourself even more, your palms resting on your eye sockets.

You love him. You’ve never doubted this, and you’re not doubting it now. From the moment he confessed his love to you, you having to get used to the idea of being in a relationship to now, almost a year later. You’ve mentioned it to him haphazardly already, but you’ve done everything except have sex. It had been San’s idea to ease you into the twosome-ness of it all; ‘let’s be each other’s person’. He said that in your dream, too, and finally you understood it.

You remember your long-lived confusion before today too well. San was your person as you were his, him with his own set of needs and expectations, you with your own — but weren’t they contradictory? San needed the sex, didn’t he? Like… sexual needs?

No, “sex isn’t a need”, San explained to you back then, “it’s a way!“

You tried to bring up the whole concept of orgasming being healthy to him, but he continued with “to me,” and you are reciting these words in your head as you try to think of something good to say, “sex is just one of many ways to love you, Y/N.”

So, truth be told, despite having a virgin girlfriend, he orgasms a healthy amount still. Sometimes San does it while you’re sleeping next to him, sometimes he feels like he can’t resist to look at your peaceful, tranquil, breathtaking face and does it in the bathroom, but essentially, he is not having sex, just getting rid of his ‘bodily mishaps’.

While you thought of sex as this strange way to get rid of stress, San thought of it as something way more, but he wouldn’t try to convince you of it, if you didn’t give him your “okay” to talk about it at all.

But here you are. Okay. You’re finally ready. Or maybe you’re not, but you’re ready to try, try with San, try San. He’ll be your person, get to know where you like to be touched, get to know where your sweet spots are and you will hopefully do just the same— touch, no, lick, no, touch, lick and suck everywhere he wants, pour your yourself over him. You’ve wanted to find out how to do that since you’ve dreamt of it since last night, processing the brain-sensation it has left you with for the whole day.

“Do you think you want to tell me about your dream first?“

“Can you kiss me?”

“H- huh?”

You get your hands from your eyes and your vision is too blurry to precisely get the picture of his rather shaken expression in. San thinks you’re bold. Mostly because that’s what you are right now. Bold. Still embarrassed, but encouraged and desperate. “Can you kiss me?”, you ask again before you fall into another pile of self-embarrassment.

“I can, but I don’t know how it’s going to help—“

You pull his face closer to yours with both of your hands and San is the one who slightly turns red now. “Y/N,” he pants, and you have to suppress a cheeky smile, when you push his cheeks together to form a duck-face.

Until you notice he’s not being sulky with the way he’s trying to push you away.

It takes you a while, how would you know that it was so easy to get men erected? Okay, you’ve seen San get a boner in the most uncomfortable situations several occasions, but usually they weren’t because of a direct cause.

If he had worn a baggier set of pants, you probably wouldn’t have seen it, but it’s only his shorts today, and the whole outline of it is almost jumping into your face, you couldn’t have not seen it. Not remarking it also wouldn’t have helped the situation. Your situation. ‘I won’t stop, I won’t stop fucking you all night.’

“Is that why you don’t wanna kiss me, Sannie?”, you murmur and flutter with your eye-lids, once your realise you’ve been staring for too long down there.

In contrast the voyeuristic scene, it strangely does not become one of those erotic moments; with San’s whiny chuckle, it actually becomes kind of … bonny. Him getting a hard-on, when his girlfriend is quite figuratively trying to open up with him, it becomes a small detail to poke fun at, one to laugh about it with an amiable awareness that you’re not mocking each other.

“I’m sorry— ignore this— I can ignore this,” San tells you and flops on his back, grabbing all of the blanket to roll around it and leaving you cold with less. “Hey!”, you pout and grab the seam of the blanket to get under it, but San gets ahold of your wrists to prevent you from cuddling to his side.

Maybe it’s because there’s nothing else occupying San’s mind and body right now, with you knowing it, or the way you can’t keep your hands off of him and he’s desperately trying to avoid your touch, it seems like a short game of cat-and-mouse.

“I don’t care that you’re hard, Sannie!”, you whine and search for his vicinity, but he wiggles away, forcing you to be a bit more assertive and wring with him.

“But I do!”, he exclaims, not really understanding the weight that your words hold. You just told him that you’re not appalled by his erection, that should be a big sign that you’re, uh, up for conversation, no? Why are you being like this? Maybe to keep up the tension? Because it’s fun? Fun playing around with San— to watch him try to use as little strength as possible, knowing that once he gets just the tiniest bit of muscle in, you’ll be overthrown?

“Sannie,” you make a sullen face, breathing out, at your third try to get your arms around him with San’s hands on your wrist, but when you get caught in the blanket with your leg that he keeps pulling, it’s over the second he yanks you to the side.

Yanking you to the side meaning pulling you by your whole body— you landing on his belly, arms awkwardly angled towards your torso, leaning into his face.

“You men”, you theatrically moan to tease him even more and San is fighting with all his inner voices right now. Most of them are just empty screams of ‘what is happening?!’, but also muscle memory persuading him to wrap his arms around your perfect waist and pin you down— he’s trying, that’s what he’s yearning to tell you by pushing his eyebrows down. “I’m sorry.”

“Ohh, Sannie,” you sigh, letting your head drop on top of his breast, crossing your fingers into San’s, while he manages his breathing.

“This is why I’m no dream man, Y/N,” San pouts, feeling guilty having used his power over you.

“It’s natural, isn’t it?”, you answer — letting your hands fall to each side of San’s body, and you feel like one of those people that usually tell you the same thing when the fact that you’re a virgin slips off your tongue. ‘It’s natural, isn’t it? That couples have sex?’ It should be and it’s going to be, thank you.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… I was really not prepared for that,” San wheezes and he raises one of your intertwined hands to touch your fingers with his lips.

“What? The cuddling or the dream?”

“The cuddling, in the context of the dream,” he answers honestly and inhales your sleepy scent from your fingertips, feeling how comfortable you lay on top of him.

“It was a good dream,” you conclude.

This was what San was trying to find out. Good or bad. And to his luck, it was good. Very good. ‘Such a good girl… So good to me.’

“Y/N?”

You accidentally zoned out, re-imagining your reverie; San all over you, sweat dripping down from his skin onto yours, his pelvis pistoning into your raised legs. How had your brain come up with that? It felt so… real. “Sorry, I got lost there for a second. What did you say?”

“How was he, that San in your dream?”

“The San in my dream, he,” you chuckle, feeling your breathing accumulate to your boyfriend’s, “… did everything, but he wasn’t careful, no.”

“What?!”, San exclaims, and it seems like he’s offended by his alter-ego to dare such a thing— he lets go off your hands in the shock and grabs you by your shoulders. “Not careful?!”

“Hmm,” you try and calm him down, letting your hands glide onto his pillowy breasts, massaging your fingers into his flesh by circling them, “he was inside… But a bit… Too fast for my liking? I mean, I don’t know my liking… I was enjoying it in my dream, but— uhm, I don’t think I could handle so much right now?”

San hums, as in to show that he heard what you said, but it took him a second of you burying your hands inside his armpits to inhale, “wait, right now?”, and remove his hands from your shoulders.

“Sannie,” you murmur with closed eyes, the buzzing feeling inside your lower abdomen swaying you to something like slumber, but if you’re not mistaken— and you’re sure that you can’t be mistaken about your own thoughts— it’s not a slumber that can be cured by sleep, but rather something else, “I couldn’t think of anything else today.”

He’s silent. He’s still breathing— thank goodness— but even though you can hear his breath leave his mouth, it doesn’t seem like San is going to say something. Pushing your upper body up, you tilt your head down.

He’s silent, sweaty and breathing, breathing heavily, staring upwards at you with sunken eyes, unable to let any of his thoughts leave the safe space of his mouth, because if San did, he’d give himself trouble for it. Seeing you fix your gaze— eyelids droopy from having been smushed into his breast— seems to only be adding fuel to his loss of good sense, and San is praying in his head that you won’t lick your lips once more, because oh god, if you did, you are going to be in so much more trouble than he is.

“Baby?”, you ask, and you swear you’re not trying to provoke him, since you only call him baby in the most special occasions, but right now, it just slipped out of you because San is being a bit strange.

Boyfriends don’t act like this, do they? Your boyfriend doesn’t; that, you can be sure about.

“Sorry,” you correct yourself, hopefully to get rid of some of his— well, what was it— anxiousness?— no, frustration?, “I didn’t mean to say ‘baby’. It just slipped out.”

“N- no, Y/N, it’s not your fault, it’s mine,” San whines. “This may sound really weird, but while I would rather die than hurt you, sugar-pie,” he murmurs, avoiding your heavy gaze on him, “I am… a man. And I don’t know how comfortable you are with me, but I am fully, undeniably erected, Y/N. Don’t go around calling me baby right now, or I’ll turn like the San in your dream.”

“How does an orgasm feel like, Sannie?”, you ask, purposefully innocent, but still in a way that makes it obviously suggestive, your tone dropping in an octave from its initial high-tone embarrassment. Where is your sudden confidence coming from? You don’t know, but- uh- well, you’re kinda over San here, both mentally and physically, it seems like.

“It feels like…”, San sighs, both reminiscing his lifetime of orgasms and feeling pretty fucking awkward in general, to be explaining this to you, while his body is screaming for him to do anything but talking.

“… It feels like being washed over by refreshing water on a hot summer day, after easing yourself into it with small splashes.” San is no poet and he sees this by how you’re flexing your face together, trying hard to understand.

“It feels like…,” he starts again, and you can swear you are feeling something twitch underneath you, and it’s probably his hard erection. “… Orgasm feel like, wow… How do they feel like, they— Uh…”

Somewhere between his words, San is looking at the ceiling, letting his eyes wander around everywhere your body isn’t laying dangerously close to his throbbing genital, but having to tell you how orgasms feel like is just the end of his senses. Now it’s not only his body urging him on, his girlfriend is trying to find out how they feel like without having experienced one, ever.

“… They are worth it.”

He’s trying to be a good boyfriend, but up until now, he’s been used to being the boyfriend of a virgin girlfriend who didn’t want sex at the moment. And that was the end of it. Definitely more than manageable, more doable than … this.

“Do you think I can enjoy them too?”, you question, revealing to him the true nature of your curiosity.

You’ve confirmed the pulsation between your legs seconds ago, when San let out a whine from his mouth, that was definitely not intended to sound as sexual as it did. You’re a virgin, not dumb, you know what’s seductive, sultry and arousing. Oh, you’re aroused, alright, maybe for the first time in your life— and your boyfriend is, too, so if this puzzle isn’t going to be put together this night, there must be something wrong in the air.

“I can’t speak for you, sugarplum. It was your dream, Y/N.”

“I don’t know how we started, but we were here, on our bed, naked, and you were… thrusting into me with this… almost scary vigour, it was— It was rough. And that one, I didn’t enjoy. You looked mean, Sannie.”

“I’m sorry,” San pouts and he looks downwards to show how sorry he is, but also to focus on your words only. If he sees your sweet face describing those things one more time, then he’ll have to disappear into the toilet soon. “I would never treat you like that.”

You blink a couple of times and lick your lips. “How would you treat me?”

“I would,” San mutters, finally meeting your eyes again, while he slowly, but surely begins to prop himself up by angling his arms, getting to your face-level. “I would treat you with care, reverence—with tenderness; I would get every inch of your skin to understand how it feels to be seen and loved, I would—“, he pants, he’s unable to breathe through his nose, and he just keeps on talking, he…

“YN, I— I would do everything to get to make your body flourish with my love, to make your heart grow with all I have, I want to—“

He goes silent.

Yes, San is a man. But it’s strange to you how he blames being a man for his weakness, but if there is a strong suit that your boyfriend has over you, it’s not being so strong that he can pull you down in a second— it’s having the mind of a lover, and a lover who promises to protect everyone he loves with his strength, and not because he’s getting his own satisfying release out of it.

A man and a lover; San is also your boyfriend, who knows what to tell you to make you grow weak. Let’s say he doesn’t do it a lot for reasons that include wanting to protect you, but as you are on top of him, listening to his words from beneath you, his words melt like fizzled honey on your tummy, crumbling with them.

“I want you, Y/N. And that’s my selfish dream.”

Being pulled down by gravity as San’s upper body rises, down to his crotch, you let him work his silent ways. He pushes himself up the last inch that it takes to be under your face, and his skin radiates heat onto yours.

There is not even a centimetre separating you two and San finally finds his words. “Please”, he begs, his voice above a whisper, “let me be your dream, Y/N.”

“I thought we already went through that,” you chuckle, getting your arms on each of San’s shoulders now, “baby.”

You can see he’s enjoying this a little too much, the way San is thoroughly covering every inch of your skin with butterfly kisses, as he has you laying on your back, letting you rub your hands over his torso to get used to the ‘intimacy’-part of it all.

Getting naked was an easy process, being exposed to the very last skin on the other hand, not. You’ve never been naked in front of him for this specific occasion, and since he knows, San doesn’t dare to rush you into more touching than needed, allowing your underwear to wrap around your privates until he’s finished giving you goosebumps all over the body.

With his soft lips, San kisses your shoulders and collarbones, whispering words of comfort into them, while you try your best to not make any lewd sounds. You didn’t know they came naturally, you had thought it was acting but — oh, goodness — no.

“Sugar,” San sputters— rearranging himself over you, one knee between your legs, the other over your leg, “let ‘em out. Let the sounds out.”

You gulp, as he glides his hand across your stomach to your lower abdomen, slightly scratching the seam of your panties, and San has placed his lips at your jawline, his voice vibrating in your ear, peppering kisses around the corner of your neck, entrancing you to fall deeper into your mattress, sighing in the calming feeling of your boyfriend.

“Only because you wanna hear me,” you murmur and wrap your arms around his upper body, running your hands across his back muscles that ease into your touch. “And that’s a bad thing, because…?”, San hums and begins to get lower with his kisses and his thumbs caressing where your pantyliner meets your thighs, warming up the small patch of skin there.

“Hmm,” you breathe out, San’s lips working their way down your cleavage, “Good… point.”

San smirks and brings his hands up, not letting a second pass where he is not feeling you under his fingertips. “There is nothing more that I want to hear,” he murmurs, his eyes appearing to become a bit foggy from your scent, San becoming absolutely lost in it, “except you, my love.”

Your breath comes out stuttered and stroke his bangs away to the side in order to have a better view on his face above your breast. He’s radiant, but as much as he’s excited to be doing this, San will stop as soon anything leaves your mouth asking him to, he promised you. In your dream, San just kept going. That’s why you didn’t want to retell the story. He forced you around, he thrusted into you with no choice, and he wouldn’t stop, until your dream cut off without you having orgasmed once throughout the thing.

So the dream itself didn’t get you to want this, and San knows this, the curiosity did. Curiosity of reaching the edge that you missed in your sleep, which you think you can only reach with the real San, with your real boyfriend.

“Can I touch you here, sugar?”, San asks, his upper body hovering over your torso, lips approaching your face, hands gliding up by your waist to meet your ribs. He’s done a good job not staring at your exposed nipples, but following the way from your jawline, neck, and collarbones, this is the next area to appreciate.

“Yes, please,” you answer, cupping your boyfriend’s cheek with one hand, inviting him to kiss you softly. San encloses your breast with a hand that has up to no muscle tension in it, kindly allowing it to get used to the new, but warm contact.

His rosy lips meet yours and he presses several kisses on them, reminding you of how much familiarity you’re dealing with right now. You kiss San all of the time, for all the reasons you love him, and as he kisses you right now, at this sleepy midnight, he’s showing you why sexual intercourse is just a fancy term to describe something so complex, that it actually becomes simple. He loves you. That’s all he has to do to have or not have sex with you.

With his palm, San brushes over your nipple, and by wonder, it hardens and makes goosebumps run over your back.

“You look so beautiful,” San lulls, smooching your lips one more time before he can finally take a look at your breasts and gulp, lick his lips, and ask you, “may I?”

“You may.”

The last kiss lingers delicately on your opened lips, as San breathes in your breast, kneading and softening it up. Automatically, you exhale and run your fingers through his uncombed hair. He sucks once and twirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, and with your very valuable feedback, his other hand draws a long line across your curvature.

“Sannie... Baby…”, you whine, the slow, but sensual licking sending you down a sensation of being tickled and being caressed at the same time.

“Yes, pie?”, San grins, proud that he’s making you feel this way, no, that it’s him that is making you feel this way for the first time in your life. With each of your sweet sounds, his pride and ego grows and his lips lap around your nipples razzingly.

You tug at his hair and send him down deeper into your skin, slightly pushing him to get his head where you’ve found that you feel best, grabbing the fabric of the bedsheets under you with your other hand.

“It feels so good,” you whine, and San chuckles after seeing your grip, gliding his hand right between your ticklish fingers.

“Yeah?”, he coos and presses another kiss onto your mouth, adoring the way your eyebrows twitch inside according to his voice. “I’ll make you feel even better…”

San caresses the area under your boob, whispers into your ear, “Will you let me?”, and you nod, words inside your head turning into hazy exhales out of your mouth.

“You won’t regret it,” San chuckles and crosses his fingers into the surface of your hand, using your own hand to slowly, but surely slide down your stomach. You kind of get the idea of what he’s trying to do, but not really the image.

“You think I won’t regret it?”, you ask him, a bit anxious, — it’s your first time, after all— your soft skin under both of your fingertips becoming one, as he leads the hand down. “I don’t know so,” San admits, comforting you by kissing your forehead, “so I’m going to make you believe it, first.”

“Hm?”

San pushes his upper body up with the hand that has been at your breast and glides it behind your back, so he can get between you and the mattress, his naked upper body pressed against your shoulder. He plants an uncountable number of kisses onto your neck, and assists you down to your panties, keeping his eyes on you to confirm you’re okay with all that he’s doing.

You’ve never touched yourself on this bed. The last time you did was somewhere in your gleeful high-school teens, long before you met San, and if you’re honest, you’d rather have him touch you, but when San kisses you on the lips and both of your hands slide under the seam of your underwear. The rough fabric of the lace scrapes San’s hand and you meet the hot slickness you’ve become inside.

“Would you look at that,” San purrs, voice wispy— his finger is the only one to glide against your wet labia and explore the untouched lips. It helps that your hand is down there too, and it feels like a rubber hand illusion, you touching yourself while San does it for you.

“Y/N,” San moans into your ear, stirred by the sensation that is you. “You feel so good, don’t you, sugar?”

You inhale sharply, when San’s finger strokes over your clitoris, and straight away, your boyfriend presses kisses onto your temple. “S- Sannie,” you whine and provoked by your sounds, his finger circles around your clit again.

Sparks, tingles — you name it. With San kissing you all around the face to counteract the new stimulation, you can’t keep your legs straightened, folding your thighs around your and San’s arm with an overwhelmed sigh. “Sannie…”, you repeat yourself and look him in the eye.

“Aww, sugar,” San smiles and catches your forlorn gaze, flushed and drowned in his kisses. Your cheeks are burning red, but the same thing goes for San. Both of you are drunk in love, falling for each other deeper with every breath you take.

“Is this good?”, he asks and rubs your back with his thumb, the other finger teasing the slick entrance. “Y- yes,” you answer and San crunches his nose in admiration, slowly easing his finger around the tissue.

“Can you touch yourself for me?”, is San’s second question and you gulp at the sincerity in your boyfriend’s voice. He’s talking two octaves deeper, raspy, lascivious; he’s promiscuous in all he is doing, let it be nibbling at your earlobe, rubbing your clit, caressing your spine with utmost libertine care— you have a feeling you’re developing another crush for your boyfriend.

“Y- yes,” you stutter, but a bit anxious about doing something wrong. It feels so right when San does it, but he’s the more experienced one in this— at least that’s what you think. He removes his hand from the surface of yours and lets you do the rubbing for a short moment, and you try to replicate what he did to you, flicking your finger over your clitoris.

“Doing it so well,” San comments and he raises your upper body with his arm, making you sit up, slithering down while smothering your lower abdomen with sloppy kisses.

“R- really?”, you ask, and San nods, while kissing the inner sides of your thighs, his eyes looking at you sideways. “Of course. It’s your body, Y/N. Your beautiful, gorgeous body.”

As San gutters, you feel something swaying on your clit, when your boyfriend smirks and looks directly at your pussy. He’s so handsome, San is making you nervous, and his eyes are drilling into you lustfully.

“You’re so beautiful everywhere, sugar, what have I done to deserve this?”, he pants, hooking himself from under your thigh, hands resting on your hip bone.

You don’t know what to answer and just flutter with your eyelashes, exhaling, when San sticks his tongue out and slides across your slickness it in one stroke, looking up at you to catch your whiny reaction. He deserves all of it, not because he was patient enough to wait for it, but because San is the one to make you feel this pretty in the first place.

“It’s probably really predictable I was going to say this, but I can’t not say it, ” San gutters, his dimple dug deep into his cheek— he’s smiling, licking his lips, “you taste amazingly sweet, my love.”

You press your lips together and feel like you have to push San into your arousal again by his hair, combing through it. “D- do it again,” you beg, and San’s heart flutters. Not letting you wait, he inhales through his nose and laps his mouth around your glistening cunt. You already knew he was good with his tongue for you have french-kissed him before, but— but this is another type of tongue-work.

It’s slow, it’s sensual, but it still feels so exhilarating— how he’s sucking in your clitoris, laving over your muscled entrance that reacts to the movement of his tongue; it makes you breathe heavily and let out feathery moans.

“Feels so good,” you hush, and stroke his hair. San hums and at smiles with his eyes, getting one hand away from your leg to slowly run it towards your vagina.

“Are you really going to … make me cum?”, you ask, a bit plumply, both out of rush and nervousness.

“I would like to, yes,” San answers, kissing you all around the pelvis bone. His lips have become plump and his nose is also painted rosy red from how he planted his face into you. “Will you allow me to?”

“Please be careful,” you appeal and San nods. “Yes, Y/N. I promise I will never do anything to you that will hurt you. Not like that stupid… dream-San you talked about.”

You chuckle and caress his jawline with your thumb, San leaning his head into your hand. “I know you would never do that, Sannie,” you say and prop yourself with an elbow. “Please make me cum.”

San wants to say something, but he bites his lip and suppresses it, crawling closer to your throbbing, heated pussy. “What is it, baby?”, you ask him, and this time, you deliberatelywant to tease him by calling him that, winking slyly at him.

Your boyfriend blinks in disbelief and lets out a light-hearted scoff, his breathing comes in and out stuttered. “Y/N,” San hums, putting a leg over his shoulder and you feel like more air is hitting your wetness, “you have no… idea… what those words are doing to me.”

Your boyfriend gulps, and as you peek at him innocently, having to get used to the new position, he looks amazed and set ablaze. Is this your ‘aroused face’? You, with your lips parted ever-so soppily, looking sultry and lovable— San is savouring this sight, oh, this sight, and saving it into his brain so it will never leave his mind, add it to the collection of his memories of you.

“Show me,” you whisper, a fire starting to enflame in you, demanding San to extinguish it.

“There’s nothing else in the world I’d rather do,” San hums and with that sentence, he’s at your cunt again, but more eager this time. The tongue flicks faster over your clitoris, his pants are getting breathier against your skin— San wants you, wants all of you, and before you know it, there’s a thumb rubbing at the entrance, notifying you that he is going to be penetrating soon.

“I’ll make you come over and over,” San breathes, and his eyes are filled with lust, hunger, desire, thirst— and you gasp at the sight of it alone, but his voice, his heart, his mind, is all painted and drowned in something purely innocent that is love. “Is that alright with you, sweetheart?”

He asks as if you stand a chance to resist him, but San seems to be doing this for the enjoyment that is pleasing you, and you’re more than happy to allow him to have his body all over yours for the sakes or it, because you love him so much. You’re already excited for when you know how to get your body all over his.

“That,” you exhale, feeling his thumb be replaced by his digit, the muscle of your entrance closing in on the finger tip, “is alright with me. I’m in, Mr. Choi, the deal’s settled.”

San chuckles at your light-hearted joke and you giggle as well, which allows his finger to glide into you slowly. Of course you’re tight, but you find it fascinating how your muscles ease around him and suck his finger in, the slickness squelching, as he licks over your slit.

“Looking forward to our cooperation,” he grins, lips pressed against your pussy and you can feel yourself slowly turning into mush. Your abdomen feels strangely ticklish, and there’s this pulling feeling that makes your body rock.

“… Ms. Choi.”

You scoff— San gave you his last name, how silly of him— but your amusement doesn’t hold on for too long, when San begins to move his finger around, angling it up and down.

“Mmhf,” you gutter and your legs close down on his head, the second leg finding its place on his other shoulder. “That—“, you try to gasp, but San being the quick learner he is, keeps stroking that one spot which got to this reaction in the first place.

“S- San!”, you whine; fuzzy, dizzy, light-heated, feeling like you’re going to shoot into space, to other worlds, and come right back to earth. In the meanwhile, your boyfriend’s tongue flicks even faster, head stuck between your thighs, his finger sliding in and out of you until you’re a whimpering mess.

“I’m here, baby,” he murmurs, finally looking up to you, wishing to meet your eyes again, but your head is rolling to the back, your upper body feels heavy and you slightly fall to the back, having to grab his hair to support yourself.

“I- I,” you stutter, feeling like there’s something that’s sizzling for explosion, and it seems San is feeling it too, in the way your pussy is tightening around his finger, and half-laughing out of glee about this discovery, San props himself up a little bit, your lower body raised from the mattress.

“Cum, sugar, cum,” he whispers, and as he adds a second finger that fills you up in a way that one finger couldn’t achieve, you fully suffocate him with your thighs, the thin string holding you away from release finally snapping.

“Fuck!”, you moan, and at first, San is surprised about your cussing, but then his eyes grow big, when there is more fluid coming out of your vagina that hasn’t been there beforehand. Explosion, sweet release, what should you call it? An orgasm— that’s what this is, but no, you’re also squirting, lower body spasming as you do so, and San is trying to react quickly by slurping it all in, but it’s too much— your bed gets wet. He drives the two fingers in and out and makes you a mess, makes a mess, makes you messy, getting all your squirt out and inside his mouth.

“San— Sannie— Baby!”, you pant, overstimulated by his fingers and lips that will just not stop, and you fear you’re going to choke your boyfriend to death with your thighs, but the same tingle appears in your lower abdomen again, felt everywhere in your tightness.

“Come on, come on, come on,” San growls, short of breath, and by angling his fingers upwards your walls, you see stars again, throwing your head into the bed and you pull at his hair, harshly and roughly, gripping his scalp for dear life, when you’re shot into bliss again.

“Ooooh baby,” San howls wispily, repeating his motion, but less ecstatic this time in order to not make you pass out from pleasure, if that happens at all.

And as licks the remaining fluid of his lips, and gets you back down again, San doesn’t lose any of his excitement, hair ruffled by your grip, lips swollen from using them so much. “Can I do that again? Can I please do that again?”

“Wha— What about you?”, you ask, panting, knowing that the penis inside his pyjamas has been hard since almost an eternity, but it seems like San doesn’t care about that at all. He looks euphoric, he looks like he saw a god (a goddess, mind you) and San just shakes his head.

“Don’t think about me, I’m,” he admits, and what you don’t know is that he just came inside his pants, when San saw your stunning orgasm-face— and he definitely has to clean it up before it soaks through, “all cared for here.”

San shuffles away from your legs to your face and kisses your forehead, wiping a bit of sweat away. “I’m gonna get towels and you’re gonna make yourself ready for a second time, alright?”

“But—“

“Will there be a ‘but’?”, San asks, and he’s prepared to let all go and just take a shower, but you just scratch your neck. “Don’t you want to fuck … me?”

“Ohhh, don’t worry, sugar, I want and will,” San grins and you smile, feeling a bit light-headed because of your first orgasm. For this to be your first orgasm, while many of your friends had their first time without having orgasmed—… it’s a lot, to admit the least.

Not to say that you’re trying to compare with them and feel superior, but if this is what’s waiting for is worth, you’d spend all that time again.

Again. And again, and—

“Again!”

You’re breathing heavily, skin slippy from your sweat — or, well, both of you are covered in body fluids, there are pearls of sweat dropping down on San, who, despite rubbing you clean with his hands, doesn’t even bother anymore to dry his wet arm anymore.

“Sannie,” you exhale, when San kisses your from behind, as you sit between his legs, “I- I th-think this is enough, I’m r-ready.”

“Hmmm?”, he hums, pressing his naked upper body at your back, his two fingers coming out of you for the nth time. Your hips have been spasming around for a long while now, and you feel sensitive and over-stimulated at your clitoris, but if there is one thing you’re still curious about after all those orgasms, it’s how San feels inside you not with his fingers but his girth.

“I want your dick inside,” you command directly, too sex-drunk to express your wish in any other way.

“Are you sure?”, San asks and kisses the nape of your neck. “We can do it any other time, sugar-pie, aren’t you tired by now?”

“Are you?”

“Of course not.”

You turn your head around and slightly pant, seeing San not lose any of his desirous colour in his eyes. “Then let’s not lose any time.”

San presses a deep kiss on your temple before he leaves your back, and you feel the warmth of his lips sit there, as he positions himself at the front, on his knees. He still has his boxer-shorts on, but that only goes so far, when he’s been leaking with pre-cum, never-mind has come in the same set an hour ago.

You can see it perfectly— San’s length, his girth, the way it moves by itself under the fabric; it looks captivating as much as it is arousing you again after all the times you’ve orgasmed this evening.

“Do you want to touch me?”, San asks, and trails his own hand over his breast, giving you an idea of what you can do to pleasure him.

“Yes, baby,” you answer and get on your knees as well, grabbing San by the hips and caressing the seam of his shorts with your thumbs. In the meanwhile, your lips seek for his vicinity and you place kisses on his neck. “I’d love to.”

“I love you so much,” San sighs and holds you by your head tenderly with both hands, cupping the circular form, feeling you get a taste of his sweaty skin at his neck. His Adam’s apple bops, when you slightly pull his boxers down and there’s resistance from his erection.

“You have a big dick, right?”, you ask, and San coughs— he was expecting you to say ‘I love you’ back first.

“U- uh,” he stammers, “yeah. It’s- uhm. I hope it’s not too big, Y/N.”

“Can it be too big?”

You ask him with genuine curiosity and San scratches the back of his head. “I was preparing you thoroughly for it, honey, that’s all… I can say.”

He harrumphes in the awkward conversation, and before he can get shy from your stare, you chuckle and kiss him, “I love you too, Sannie. I couldn’t imagine doing this with any other person.”

Your boyfriend slides his hand to your jaw and pulls up your head to kiss you, mumbling, “only do this with me, Y/N,” into your lips.

As his lips work against yours, you slide down your hands into his boxer-shorts and use your wrists to spread the spandex, getting San’s underwear off.

With your eyes closed, you hear San breathe in deeply through his nose and he rubs your back with both of his hands to push your naked body against his.

His dick feels hot, wet and mild, when it presses against your abdomen, and you subconsciously grind your lower body to identify it better. It is big. The two fingers don’t even come close to what you’re working with here, and in the moment, it’s really good that you feel loosened up by the numerous times San made you come.

“Please touch me,” San instructs you and you nod, opening your eyes to see his glistening tip pointed towards you. Without waiting, you leniently wrap your hand around it and San parts your lips to pant.

“I don’t think I’ll hold on for long,” he whimpers, and his pelvis twitches, when you squeeze your hand around the soft, heated, slick muscle.

“Wait, Sannie… Do we have condoms?”, you ask and to your surprise, San opens up the cupboard. You loosely remember when San asked you if he should buy condoms at the beginning of your relationship, and you know that you answered with an ‘I don’t know’ back then.

A year later, it turns out San has bought a pack, but didn’t talk about it until the time was ripe. “Do you want to do it for me?”, he asks you, ripping apart the plastic wrapper with his finger and mouth. That this took a wet dream to realise is funny to you, but as you’re in the moment, you can only gulp in anticipation.

You nod and continue to pump his length in your grasp, when you’re handed the flimsy condom. Is that even going to fit around him?

“Yes, it is going to fit,” San giggles at your subconsciously asked question, and then kisses you, “did dream-San wear a condom?”

You place the center of the condom on the tip of penis and slowly glide down the lubed silicone by the ring.

“No, I don’t think so,” you murmur, though you couldn’t care any less about your dream right now. San hums and bucks up his hip into your hand, making the condom hit the end of his length.

It frankly looks quite comical, the way the white outlines your boyfriend’s dick, but before you can laugh, San delicately pushes you at your ass— other hand on the back of your head to not make you hit the bed-frame, with you landing on your back, legs angled towards the sky.

San tsk’s about his alter-ego’s wrong-doings and shakes his head. “I think your brain has a very twisted image of me.”

You chuckle at how sulky San is about it, though you can’t take any responsibility. You also don’t know how your brain cooked up the imagination of San ramming into you raw, especially when your biggest fear has been that things were going to hurt. (Now that you know they don’t, you’re good to go, you think.)

But the real San touches you softly, carefully, endearingly faintly, even if his dick looks intimidatingly big; you’re covering your mouth at the sight of it alone.

“Come on, don’t be shy now,” San grins and flops his protected peen on your pussy, the girth of it weighing down on your sensitive bud.

“Sannie, baby, please be gentle,” you whine and San caresses your cheek, not finding your plead in any way offensive.

“I will, sweetheart,” he whispers, and his voice sounds sweet, melts sweetly in your ears, but when his tip is there, at your entrance, you have to grab his hand at your cheek forcefully.

It’s a stretch. If you had known it would have come to this, you would have asked San to add a third, no, maybe even a fourth finger, but maybe he knew too, that even that wouldn’t have helped with a lot.

Not to say that it hurts, but to feel your muscle be extended as he just pushes in the tip, you’re already panting. San intertwines his fingers and leans forward, trying to calm you down. “Are you okay, baby?”, he asks, pouting. “I can stop.”

“N- no,” you stutter, though the bit of movement has had him slide in deeper and thus, your cunt be stretched further. “It’s okay. Just be slow. I can do it.”

“No, Y/N, you have to want it,” San sighs and you press your face against his hand. “I want it,” you murmur, glancing up at him. “I want you, Sannie.”

He smiles in awe of your droopy eyes and luscious lips reaffirming your love to him, and San inhales deeply. “I’ll move a bit more, okay?”

“Okay.”

Both of you inhale at the same time, but it’s San this time to moan it out. “Oh, god,” he whimpers, “feels so good, Y/N. Feels so fucking good.”

And this is where you close your eyes and let your boyfriend do his thing over you, because San’s sounds are candy to your ears. He’s doing it slowly, and heaven knows he can’t push it just entirely just yet, but the first third that San has inside you is enough to make you grip the sheets.

“Are you alright? Baby, is it too much? Can I do more?”, San whines, and you’re too weak-hearted for his arousal-sake, that you sigh sultrily and say, “Sannie, you know what to do.”

“No, no, baby, please don’t say things like that, I really won’t—“

He groans and pushes himself further in. You have to strain your forehead and pull in your eyebrows to work around the fact that you have never felt your cunt be stuffed in like this, and oh god, you feel so stuffed.

“Baby, please tell me when you want me to stop,” San begs you, concerned about your facial expression, kissing your cheek repeatedly.

“This just feels unfamiliar, that’s all,” you whimper and San pulls out a little bit while you talk. “But you will tell me, right?”, he asks you, and gets a nod in return. You should be seeing black in front of you, given that you’ve closed your eyes, but after San pushes himself in again, there’s a piercing zap that makes you open your eyes wide.

“Sannie, wait—“

He immediately stops and both of you look at each other. San doesn’t move, anxious that anything will make you more anxious, when you grab him by his arms.

And with one glance down, you see it.

Blood.

Not a lot, fortunately so, but still, bleeding from your privates outside your period is terrifying, and it makes all of your heat flee away—

Blood!

There’s not a scream or a gasp leaving your mouth, rather just a short soundless inhale that indicates your surprise, when you close your eyes and cover them with the surface of your hands.

Blood?!

“Oh my god, sugar,” San exclaims silently, you don’t know if this is a first for him as well— and though both of you don’t panic as loudly as you could have, your boyfriend still looks mortified, eyes ripped open, mouth opened by a slit, when you remove your palms from your eyelids. “Did I hurt you? Did it hurt? Oh my god, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I—“

“No, Sannie, it didn’t hurt— It didn’t—“

Not panicking, but still both stammering and not aware of what to do with your hands.

He pulls out and covers your private with the towel that he used to catch your fluid before, and San immediately claims a serious expression on his face, looking around to find something for you to hold onto. He finds you a pillow, puts it over your stomach, and you cuddle into it, trying to catch a breath.

You didn’t lie. It didn’t hurt, it really didn’t. At least not even half the the amount of blood that is covering the towel, and you don’t think anything else (let it be more preparation or whatever) could have had helped you two in this situation. Is it just a matter of luck? Of your body? Well, maybe you’re out of luck and your body is going lax as well.

San is removing the condom from his dick and fetching his boxer-shorts again to fully call it quits, using approximately 4 seconds before he disappears in your arms again and smothers you with kisses.

“But— but Sannie…”, you whimper, feeling kind of guilty to be leaving him hanging like this after he’s done so much for you, but he silences you with his lips.

“Don’t you dare say sorry, sugar-pie,” San smiles and brushes over your hair, continuing to peck your face, as he hugs you from aside, and his warm skin soothes the goosebumps you got from seeing red on yourself. “As long you’re not hurting.”

“Do you want to take a shower or do you want to sleep?”, San asks you and you shiver a little bit once the adrenaline has worn down and all that provides you comfort is your boyfriend’s vicinity. “I don’t know, Sannie,” you murmur into his breast and a hand rubs your back. You’re still naked, but San covers you up with a blanket. “You don’t have to know, sugar,” San whispers and rests his chin on top of your head. “Just be here with me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

You nod into his embrace, feeling exhausted, worn out and tired, and you start to breathe heavily into his skin, San rubbing his thumb across your lower back to match the rhythm of your breathing, your heartbeat slowing down.

You’re safe.

You’re home.

You’re not dreaming, you’re with your boyfriend, Choi San, and even though nobody will know what kind of dreams will visit you, what nightmares will make you wake up in the middle of the night, you’re, well, in love.

Comfortable, soft, warm, at ease, serene — happy; this is what love feels like. A dream doesn’t come close to the unworried warmth love provides, to the warmth the real San provides, and while you doze off, you and San whisper affirmations into each other’s presence that you’ll,

“Dream of me, Y/N.”

#choi san x y/n #choi san x reader #choi san smut #choi san scenarios #choi san x you #ateez x reader #ateez smut #if you wanna see an epilogue pls request it because i find boyfie san so endearing #chokkiwa #chokko

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00127am · 4 months

Text

@ barkingatthemoon best friend! liu yangyang x gn! reader, about sickeningly sweet love confessions, friends to lovers, kissing, lower-case intended word count 2k

💿 now playing ... harvey by hers

"wanna date?"

it's a question poised in the lull of your favorite song, asked within half of a beat before it's drowned out by the rhythmic thrum of the lyrics and consumed by the canary-esque tone of the vocalist. a tone which has nothing on you, voice sweet and even, every word framed with the melodic waver in your pitch. and when you propose this question, head dangling off the edge of your mattress, that ever-so-pretty voice of yours is nothing but nonchalant. as if you had just asked the time.

from your upside down world, there's a tingling feeling which races from the stretch of your abdomen to your nostrils, forcing you to blink fast and swallow hard. your nose twitches, scrunching and relaxing in a poor attempt to relieve itself of the buzzing sensation. but it doesn't seem to make any semblance of a difference. instead, it begins to throb in the top of your temple, pressing down against the walls of your cranium as if they might very well break down. you're not quite sure if it's the silence from your best friend or your position that's making it hard to swallow, but you don't think that the cause exactly matters at the end all be all.

you watch him with doe eyes, lashes fluttering against your cheeks only to be stuck in the arch of your brows as you blink back at him. you can feel your face getting hot, a blush burning at your cheeks and searing the tips of your ears. this reaction, without a doubt, is from him. not being upside down. not the silence. just yangyang, puffy lips parted and eyes wide.

he blinks obliviously at you, tongue hesitating at the back of his teeth, and you begin to wonder if he had ever heard you in the first place. so you open your mouth to say it again, lips just barely pursed in into the beginnings of a consonant before he's waving you off. "i heard you the first time,"

unlike the songbird singer of your favorite song and unlike you, yangyang's voice is caught in between something strained (tone low and rough as if it has been dragged upon gravel) and hesitant (yet you're not quite sure if you could describe it as that, not with the way that each ending syllable seemed to rush after one another). in all iterations of his voice, this is one that you like least of all. it tells of an oncoming rejection, the thought process of finding just the right words to let you down.

"ah," you're less casual this time, words stuck in the back of your throat, "is that a no?"

"what?"

"i'm asking if you're rejecting me," you clarify, finally unable to take the rush to your head as you sit upright, "my confession,"

he leans forward and if you weren't so preoccupied with picking yourself up, perhaps you would have been flustered by the lack of distance (though you guess that personal space has never been a forte of yangyangs). he raises a finger in the air, gesturing in circles as if to rewind to your previous words. "that was a confession?"

"what else would it be?" the sudden surge of movement forces you to clench your eyes shut, pressure mounting up behind them as if it might spill out with tears. it takes a couple moments of blinking before your vision returns to normal, accompanied by a faint ringing in your ears. "anyway, i thought you knew,"

yangyang sputters for words, blonde hair falling onto his face in a manner that really doesn't help you keep your composure. he shoots you an incredulous look, eyebrows arched and jaw nearly touching the floor. he brings a hand to his chest, tapping as he speaks, as if he couldn't believe that he's the crush in mention. "knew that you're into me?"

"yes," your tone is bordering the line between a twinge of embarrassment and the foundation of irritation that's bubbling at the back of your throat, "i've been making it pretty obvious,"

"not obvious enough," he grumbles, spoken under his breath as he brings a hand to scratch at the bridge of his nose--looking everywhere but your eyes, narrowed in on him with something more akin to a glare than a glance.

you huff, rolling your eyes as you lean onto your arms, flicking him on the forehead with a force much to harsh to be anything lesser than aggravation. "next time i'll make sure to get on one knee to propose so it's obvious enough for you,"

he swats your hand away, pouting as he nurses his forehead. his discomfort evokes a laugh on your part, lips twitching upwards from their previous position held in the beginnings of a sneer. you can never stay annoyed at him, not when he looks like that. an expression that screams pathetic in every way but overt words as he looks up at you. his bottom lip is caught in his teeth and his next words are spoken within a silver of a breathe--desperate and urgent.

"yes, i do. so, so badly"

it's a statement spoken in the middle of one of your songs, tone so gentle that it was almost drowned out by the steady beat of the instrumental. so quiet, that you're tempted to ask him to repeat it--partially to make sure that you really did hear him correctly but mostly because you just want to hear him say it one more time. there's no question about what he's responding too, voice completely consumed by a honey, lovesick lilt. one that you find far superior to any intonation used by your songbird singer or any emphasis that falls from your own throat. an inflection that you will revisit, over and over and over again until any and all accuracy of the memory is lost.

"ok,"

"ok?"

"ok," you repeat, lips quirking into a teasing smile (one he knows all too well, one that sticks to his skin and haunts him with every waking moment--god, he can't get you out of his mind), "what? you disappointed or something?"

he's quick to clarify, rebutting with a dirty look, "no. i just...i don't know. not very romantic was it?"

"ouch," you wince back in faux pain, holding a hand to your heart with a dramatic drawl, "should i have bought flowers?"

"yes, sure, whatever," he acknowledges your quip only to ignore it, spitting out an agreement as quick as he can in order to get to his next phrase. so rushed that you're fifty percent positive that he didn't even hear what you said, "can i kiss you?"

his question makes you reel, feeling dizzy as the words are punctuated with a look from him that's a hair away from begging. and oh god, you feel like you're going to faint. maybe you're still feeling the aftereffects of your head rush. one look at him says otherwise.

"do you even have to ask?" your lips curve into a smile as you answer. a smile that makes his hands curl into tight fists, knuckles burning a bleach white. he's one hundred percent sure that if he doesn't kiss you right now, then he'll explode. though, it doesn't exactly matter in the grand scheme of things as he thinks that he'll reach the same end when he actually does.

and that's certainly what it feels like as yangyang leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. one that he ends only to begin another, more assured and slightly less gentle, less featherlight. he sighs when he kisses you, as if he's been holding back that same sigh since he met you. one only to be relieved by a kiss he has always so desperately craved. he kisses you urgently, like he's making up for lost time. a pacing and utter adoration that makes your head spin, butterflies fluttering in your stomach only to emerge from your throat in the form of a quiet whine. a noise that has yangyang practically lunging on top of you, hands coming up to hold your face. slender fingers sliding up your cheekbones and resting before your ears, fingernails knotted in the edges of your hair. and then he's pulling away, smushing messy, lingering kisses all over your face.

his lips are everywhere, on the full of your cheeks and the space beneath the arch of your brow. the corner of your mouth and your chin, your forehead and eyelid. chest against chest, his heartbeat hammering so loudly that you wouldn't be surprised if it leapt straight out.

"maybe we should have skipped the confession part and went straight to this," your words are hummed against his face, eyes fluttering somewhere between open and shut as he lines kisses down the angle of your jaw. your arms coming to hang around his shoulders, "might have saved you from my unromantic confession,"

you can feel him grin against you and you know a teasing comment isn't too far behind. "i wish we did. that was the worst confession i've ever received,"

he makes his way back to your lips, pressing soft kisses to the corners before capturing your lips once more. this time, you lead, pulling him ever-so-slightly closer as you take his bottom lip in between your teeth. you nip playfully, soothing over your bite with a passive, lazy drag of your tongue. a feeling that evokes a groan from your counterpart, fingertips digging into the flesh of your face.

"should i take it back then?" it's muttered against his lips, each word spoken between kisses that have his knees buckling, "the worst confession you've ever received, that is,"

yangyang scoffs, words slurred and spoken in the middle of a kiss. "you can't take it back,"

you laugh, a pretty sound that has his ears ringing. one that starts in the back of your throat and ends up bubbling in his, before it's interrupted with a whiny whimper as you pull away. a reaction that nearly has all the blood in your body rushing to your head. you're not sure that sitting up could fix the sensations this time.

instead, you bring a finger to trace along the expanse of his neck. fingernail grazing against his adams apple (which bobs when he swallows, hard, at the feeling of your touch--an action accompanied a slight shiver and unsteady inhale). you continue your journey upwards until you're skimming the curve where his throat meets his chin. and there you hesitate, before flicking your finger harshly upwards. "can't i?"

despite the way in which his face is forced upwards by the motion of your hand, yangyang's eyes never leave yours. they're half-lidded, eyelids drooping down like he's drunk. lips are a vermillion red, puffy and swollen. a small line of spit stuck between the top and bottom and you can't be sure whether that's his or yours. all you do know is that if he keeps looking at you like that, you might just drop dead. they say looks can kill, after all.

"no," he replies, voice hoarse and eyes drawn in soft crescents "it's too late. we're dating, aren't we? you said ok,"

you huff out a whisper of a laugh, expression darting into a grin that you just can't hold back. one that practically threatens to split your face in two as you undertake a teasing lilt. "only because you looked so pathetic when you agreed,"

he wrinkles his nose at your words, toying with a lopsided smile that makes your heart flip. "if that's what it takes for you to date me then i'll look pathetic all you want,"

"i don't think you'll have to try any harder than usual in that endeavor," you remark, shutting your eyes as you lean back onto your palms, "in fact, i'd say that--"

but you're cut off with a kiss, then another, and another, and another. until you've all but forgotten about rescinding your confession, or what you were going to say about him. and the only thing you can think about is him. not that that is anything out of the norm.

taglist. @evilsailorsenshi @222brainrot @yangasm thank you for all your support and love! <3

🗯️ i love yangyang so much guys TᴖT i don't even think this is written well because i wrote it so rushed, all in one sitting, because i just needed to get this out of my system. there's something so lovely to me about mundane, realistic confessions and banter that i can't help but think about them all the time. writing this made me all fuzzy and i hope it does the same for you all! ♡

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sapphicdib · 8 months

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Your cycle consumes itself. What have you become?

(ˡᵒʳᵉ ᵈᵘᵐᵖ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ ᶜᵘᵗ)

SO THIS IS MY INV VS SAINT AU!! It started as a shitpost and uh. Spiralled. Out of control. And now it’s genuine lol.

Enot and Saint are basically mortal enemies, and Saint needs to get Enot OUT OF THE CYCLES in order to continue his work, because this damn horny bastard won’t stop hunting him down…for some reason. Isn’t ascension the greatest gift you can bestow upon the creatures suffering in this barren wasteland? At least Saint thinks that. Inv, on the other hand, does not.

Enot stumbles upon Pebbles while passing through the silent construct, trying to find food one day. He takes a liking to this half-dead pink toaster, bringing him scraps of fabric as blankets and lanterns, and the best part…talking to him. Inv, somehow, can talk to iterators. And despite Pebbles’ very limited ability to reply, he does appreciate the company, and slowly the cycles become less agonizing. Pebbles has a friend. However, when Saint finds him, his immediate reaction is to attempt to ascend him—and he is tackled by a very angry slugcat, hissing and spitting at him in defence of its friend.

When Saint attempts to ascend him, he misses, just barely clipping Enot’s tail and glitching him half-out of reality. He then realizes, to his horror, that his karma seems to be draining. Whatever the hell this thing is, it’s dangerous, and Saint retreats to restore his karma (and heal some of the nasty wounds Enot gave him).

Inv turns back to see Pebbles, staring at him in pure fear, before he simply whispers out a “Thank…you…”. And that’s when Inv makes it his mission to save Pebbles (and everyone else) from Saint.

This leads to Inv running around the map, hot on Saint’s heels, trying to get any and all the iterators to figure out a way to get off their damn strings and LIVE again! Most of them are collapsed or semi-collapsed, so it’ll be an uphill battle, but when a glitchy, teleporting slugcat with the ability to speak tells you to do something…you’d be kinda inclined to do it.

Anyways the reason Enot can’t be ascended is because he is happy to give in to every single one of the great taboos. Wrath, Lust, Friendship, Gluttony, and Self Preservation. He revels in them. And if he can help the others experience them, and become happy with living again, they’ll be immune too! Also he is ridiculously OP to the point of him basically just having DevTools active because I think it’s Funny. He can glitch-teleport and drains the karma of beings around him. He also talks super casually and I think it’s funny.

A little bit of their dynamic hehe:

“Hey, pal!”

“I would like you to stop calling me that, please. You may call me the Saint.”

“Ahah. Not happening.”

“You are incredibly disrespectful.”

“Hey man, I’m not the one calling myself a saint but then running around killing shit and acting like it’s a good thing.”

“You use such vulgar words. I ascend beings, freeing them from the torment of these endless cycles. It is my purpose.”

“Even the ones who don’t want to go? Bro, you don’t even ask. The last robot you almost merked was screaming “no wait” at you, and you still think you’re in the right here? You’re not some kind of righteous saint, that’s called being a fuckin’ serial killer.”

“You do not understand what you are talking about!”

“Whoa, buddy! Are you gettin’ mad? Ain’t that…a lil taboo? PFFT look at your face!”

“I am not tolerating this any longer. Goodbye.”

That’s all I can think of rn! Send asks if you like!

#rain world #rain world downpour #rain world au #rain world saint #rain world enot #rain world inv #my art #rw #inv vs saint au #inverted cycle au #<- new tag!#inverted cycles au

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cynthiav06 · 2 months

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I am obsessed with Epic, the musical as all people are and should be.

One of my absolute favorite parts (I love everything about it, the lyrical genius, the phenomenal melodies, the best cast) about the Saga itself is Athena and Odysseus's relation.

There are lots of opinions on how Athena doesn't treat Odysseus as a person but as a property, which I think is slightly misinterpreted. Odysseus is the only one in the whole Greek mythology to be so favored by Athena. She sees her very self reflected in him and hence sees him as an extension of herself given that she takes time and effort to teach Odysseus everything she can.

Yes, Odysseus gets ahead of himself and gets sentimental of sorts, but in the end, the mistake that causes his initial falling out with her is also something that mirrors Athena. Hubris is Athena's fatal flaw, and it's the same for Odysseus.

Athena's greatest ability is critical thinking in the heat of the moment, something Odysseus himself lives by and represents.

Gods are not flawless. No, they are every bit flawed, and deep deep down, they know it.

To Athena Odysseus giving into his flaws is a slap to the face because despite knowing her own and knowing how Odysseus reflects hers, she fails to make him overcome it.

He is also perhaps the only person to have insulted Athena to her face and lived to tell the tale without any repercussions because she knows he tells the truth but most of all because she accepts that if anyone has the right to reprimand her its Odysseus someone who has lived by her principles.

Even after their falling out, Athena defends him against the Olympians, and despite everything, Odysseus does his best to stick to Athena's teachings and doesn't hate her.

Athena does her best to advice Telemacus and even calls him her friend.

Throughout the Greeks myths, it is cemented that Athena and Odysseus had a strong relationship and were equals more so than a hero and his patron

The most ironically beautiful thing was that I was rereading Percy Jackson and Heroes of Olympus books to find Odysseus references through Mark of Athena and the part where Annabeth finds Athena at the subway, lost and frazzled,turned into Minerva due to the Roman and Greek demigods being together.

Minerva is nothing like Athena, she is Athena who is bitter and enraged and consumed with vengeance against the Romans who attacked her city and turned her into a just a Goddess of Wisdom and Crafts taking from her the domain of war and strategy. And in this emotionally heightened, unstable state that goes against her very nature, Annabeth hears her mumbling, "If Odysseus were here, he would know the way, he would know how best to help.."

And that to me is so raw and beautiful that in this terrible state that's basically a mental breakdown, The Goddes of Wisdom and Strategy thinks that Odysseus would be able to help. A mortal, yes, a great hero but still a mortal, and help in what? In guiding Athena herself as she tries to find her way back to her place of power, in guiding the lost goddess of wisdom.

Through the whole Percy Jackson series, it is repeatedly iterated how Odysseus is Athena's most and all-time favorite.

I also like how those books portray Odysseus as he was, a great hero and the most loyal husband.

I just had to rant on this. It's kept me awake for so long.

#epic the musical #odysseus #athena #odysseus and athena #epic the cyclops saga #epic the troy saga #epic the wisdom saga

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vellichorom · 1 year

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Hello! I’m new to the Stanley Parable fandom (as in 3 days ago oop) and I’ve heard about the Narratorverse? I’m confused as to what that is. (Also, if you have any advice of people to follow in this fandom, I’m all ears!)

WELL WELL WELL! allow me to welcome you to the fandom & introduce you to it's most recent development ( as the technical hand in it's creation & persistence(?) )! may you enjoy it AND your stay here, there's PLENTY to consume & a little something for everyone, i think!

now, into the narratorverse;

TDLR; the Narratorverse is this idea that every Narrator / alternative TSP design exist in a multiverse & frequently mingle with each other in Tumblr & Discord events.

however, below is where I've compiled EVERY detail & piece of history to this monster in the fandom, so feel free to dive below & educate yourself thoroughly.

otherwise! i'm not really good at just Offering people to follow, as everybody brings something to the table & I hate to risk forgetting / neglecting one user over another, so I HAPPILY encourage other TSP artists to reblog this & promote themselves! ALSO! just dig through the tag long enough & you'll find TONS of amazing artists & creators to follow ( avoid rh/ad/ko like the plague ), I promise it's worth the treck!

Narratorverse Expansive Lore You Can Slap On a Wiki Below;

for the best experience, please read this to yourself in a generic " youtuber introduces & reviews niche topic " voice,

" the Narratorverse, " ALSO known as " the Paraverse " is an "AU" / fandom-wide concept in which every & all personal iteration of The Stanley Parable ( with a heavy focus on the designs of the Narrator ) from the fandom co-exist & mingle in a big, expansive multiverse.

if I'm not mistaken, this OFFICIALLY got started when the tumblr poll function started getting incorporated onto the site & @tsp-narrator-ask would grab up a handful of individual Narrator designs to feature in a " Sexiest Narrator " competition, where - of course, the fandom & any tumblr user alike could vote for their respective favorite design or whichever they found "sexiest" ( loosely ).

this whole competition inspired some participants of the competition ( including yours truly ) to make in-character commentary art, featuring their Narrator reacting to their BEING in the competition or otherwise campaigning for themselves not to lose / the aftermath of their losing; a lot of which would include their Narrator being thrown into some cruel & unusual punishment by the host of the competition. for le giggles. ( the latter linked post is the reason why MY narrator is referred to as Salad Boy, )

with the door open for it, this would spark some MORE drawn, in-character commentary, featuring contestants of the Sexyman Competition-- & even just anyone with a Narrator design who wanted to participate in the shenanigans, all gathered together like this competition & everything involved with it was this big party/event they were all called from their creators to get in on.

a lot of this commentary was featured in MASS REBLOGS, with everyone adding a little response to one's post; the main ones being THIS one, & the Unfathomably Popular Salad Thread, the latter of which, not to pat myself on the back for starting it, but I think REALLY popularized the concept of the " Narrator Multiverse, " & would lead things to escalate FAR beyond the initial Sexyman Competition.

NOW, there's an official Narratorverse / Paraverse roleplay / hangout server that features many ( if not everyone ) featured in these threads, there's other TSP servers that carry the lore & relationships from these events, & there's been a trend instilled of other, similar mass reblog threads that keep with the continuity of the last ones, but also branch out to expand on multiversal shenanigans with everyone allowed to participate.

-such as @blackkatdraws's Gluetrap Thread, the aftermath of THAT, this smaller " thread " featuring my arrator finding @tsp-narrator-ask's kid, & I think there might have even been a few started with the recently held Narratorverse Hunger Games that I just can't account for / didn't get to keep up with.

ALL OF THESE OBVIOUSLY tying into & ONLY adding onto the idea of this multiverse of Narrators & Stanley Parable alternatives alike & popularizing it into this own little delectable square of the fandom in which the community can really come together for some utmost silliness OR actual worldbuilding, given everyone in-character & out of character gets to reflect on every alternative interpretation of the game we're ALL here for.

& that's just about the full " history " of what this whole Narratorverse / Paraverse is! feel free to hop the bandwagon yourself!

who knows, your alternative interpretations could be what the fandom follow next!

#anonymous #inbox #ALSO inviting fellow TSP artists to reblog & infodump #ALONG WITH PROMOTING THEMSELVES #The Stanley Parable #The Stanley Parable Ultra Deluxe #TSP #YEAH HI don't ask me things because I'm liable to infodump everything i know about it

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devine-fem · 15 days

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Hii I know the post is a few days old by now, but I just wanna say I get you with the fact that "lego batjokes is the only okay batjokes"

I LOVE that movie with a passion, but I will become its number 1 hater if someone uses it to push puritan shit on me

The ship itself is okay, but I don't think it's a good batjokes shit I think it should have its own little corner separate from batjokes tbh

No, I actually cannot stand it anymore like I don’t seriously, seriously hate it that bad its just like the constant remark of how people are gross for shipping batjokes outside of one piece of media is literally SO ANNOYING.

STOP BEING A COWARD. you’re not better than anyone here. like dude, if you want to ship just one specific iteration of batjokes that has not been touched in years, SHIP SOMETHING ELSE. We don’t want you here.

Honestly the WHOLE “you can’t ship this ship anywhere but this universe” IS SO ANNOYING IN THE COMIC BOOK FANDOM. like i even get that for jondami where people said you can only ship them in dceased. DUDE JUST SHIP THEM, NO ONES JUDGING YOU AND NO ONE CAN STOP YOU. STOP MAKING IT EVERYONE ELSES ISSUE.

like huh???

its just annoying like i want to make these people bite concrete. like lego batjokes is a bit cute but the allure of batjokes is that its messed up.

okay, let me calm down.

the appeal of batjokes is exploring the relationship between bruce wayne and the joker if you add explicit romantic or sexual elements to it. its more of a study than anything. what would happen between these characters if you gave them a bit of dick?

BUT ISNT THAT JUST SHIPPING IN GENERAL. like yes, its toxic, yes joker is horrible, yes bruce is horrible but like thats the point, it could have an interesting turn about to it THAT YOU WONT GET WITH HEALTHY SHIPS.

did you ever think about how interesting it would be to watch bruce jump over mental hurdles to pursue something with the joker WHEN HE HAS KILLED JASON? CRIPPLED BABS? did you ever think about how someone likes that?

you ever read dark romance in your life cause lemme tell you… and it might surprise you… ITS DARK. GASP !!

like yes my only option is to be a hater to lego batjokes now. do i hate them? nope, because i ship them and i love every version of batjokes because i ship them dude and media like lego batman and telltale batman is a TOOL FOR ME AS A FAN TO USE if i want something more healthy and domestic between these characters, not for some rando who doesn’t touch comics to use against ME for BEING NORMAL. oooo, you don’t like this piece of media the EXACT SAME WAY I DO AND CONSUME THE EXACT SAME WAY I DO, GROSS! kys.

sorry, i get passionate about batjokes but oh my god, one day can we PLEASE stop saying this. its so annoying.

#batjokes #joker #bruce wayne #dc comics #damijon #fandom critical #telltale batman #lego batman #and im tagging it bc some of yall needa see this

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teddy-bear-queen · 1 year

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Starscream deserved better.

The more and more transformer media I consume the more angry I get at the treatment of Starscream. He’s just desperately trying to survive.

OH YEAH BUT MEGATRON, THE ABSOLUTE ASSHAT?? The ABUSER?? He gets a redemption arc!!! Literally fuck OFF.

‘The decepticons are no more bc I now know what it’s like to be oppressed :(’ fuck off. The reason you are the way you are is because you liked the power. He already knew what it was like to be oppressed, because that was THE WHOLE FUCKING PREMISE OF THE WAR!

I haven’t finished the series but I’ve seen enough from previous iterations to know that this bullshit is going to drive me insane. Here’s an idea: stop giving abusers redemption arcs because you think they’re hot. How about we give redemption arcs to the victims (starscream) instead. OR JUST KEEP THEM BOTH EVIL! IDFC! BUT DONT MAKE IT SEEM LIKE STARSCREAM CANT BE REDEEMED AND MEGATRON CAN. Blatant victim blaming.

EDIT:

Fuck you megatron simpers, if you were a decepticon and real etc. he’d fucking abuse you beyond the point of breaking. He’s an abuser. Deal with it.

I didn’t mean to come off so aggressive in this part, I apologise for that. Here I further explain what I mean. Please read the whole thing.

EDIT 2:

Just because I feel the need to say this: Im not excusing starscream or apologising him. He’s an asshole in every sense of the word, and he’s had his fair share of… shall we say “bad deeds”. He’s toxic. I’m not excusing that (it’s actually another reason I like him, the way he behaves and his personality intrigue me!). I actually also like Megatron in that way. He’s a character I love to hate sort of deal. And some people just love him! That’s also okay! What isn’t okay is the romanticisation and fetishisation of abuse. Don’t excuse either of these characters toxic behaviours just because he’s hot lmao.

My issue with it is that Megatron, who has done so much worse, got redeemed whereas Starscream is continually demonised or straight-up killed. It just makes no sense to me how Starscream, who continually throughout many iterations seems to have the most potential for redemption, is demonised. (if people want I could write an analysis on starscream to further explain because it would be fun).

Either redeem Starscream AND Megatron, or just Starscream.

#transformers #suki speaks #transformers prime #megatron #starscream #transformers megatron #transformers starscream #rants #I’m so sick of the transformers series and I’m only like dipping my toes in #like what the fuck #this makes me so mad #also don’t even get me started on the fetishisation #sigh.

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exquisite-evans · 7 days

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Two years of Heartstopper TV, what can I say?! It’s a rare thing for a show to take hold of my life like this and…not let go. I hadn’t read the comics when the show was recommended to me by a friend. I trusted her recommendation, went into it blindly, and sat down to watch it on a Friday night. The moment episode 8 ended, I restarted it and watched it all again halfway through the night. Then the next morning, I woke up and watched it again. Then during dinner on Sunday, I watched it again. I watched S1 FOUR TIMES in one weekend. It was as if I couldn’t bring myself to watch anything else. It was so beautiful and loving and powerful. It made me feel GOOD. And a lot of shows out there today don’t.

I obviously then purchased all the comics and fell down the rabbit hole, taking everyone who’d listen to my recommendation with me. At this point, two years later, I’ve watched that first season an innumerable amount. I could probably recite it word-for-word.

Something shifted for me, personally, with S2. I was somehow pulled in even deeper. I was captivated by the chemistry that brought Nick and Charlie to life. Joe and Kit were born for these roles—it blows my mind if I think about it for too long. The themes in S2 obviously grew more mature, and now having read the comics, I knew where we were headed. And once again, I watched S2 on repeat. That first week of its release, I watched it every night. Then I watched it every weekend through late-October.

And, as many of you know, it inspired me to begin writing my fanfic, Because You Loved Me, of a married Narlie in their late twenties, starting a new stage of their lives. They just…infiltrated my brain. In a way that I could never complain!

So, Heartstopper has changed my life in just two short years. I am now a fan of Joe and Kit and their upcoming projects, only wanting the best for them in this world because they gave us the perfect iteration of Nick and Charlie. I am knee-deep in writing said fanfic that brings me so much joy (and others too, from what you tell me 😉). I am consumed daily by the genuine love of Nick and Charlie. One of my favorite love stories written. One of soulmates and everlasting love, ages and sexualities be damned. For those two can get through anything, together, even as teens.

Heartstopper chipped away at my cynical heart and made me believe in romance again. 🥹✨🩵

QUEER LOVE DESERVES TO BE CELEBRATED LOUDLY! 🏳️‍🌈

Cheers to our upcoming S3, which will surely ruin my life even further, and fingers crossed that we’re blessed with a S4 to complete their story how Alice sees fit.

I’ll be here. Fangirling on main.

#heartstopper #nick x charlie #charlie spring #nick nelson #joe locke #kit connor #netflix #alice oseman #heartstopper tv #nick and charlie

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theamityelf · 1 month

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We’ve got enough Kamukuras to fill up a bucket or something at this point, lol. Regarding that, what’s your thoughts on a Kamukurafied Komaeda? I’ve seen peoples takes on him before but I’m just curious on what yours would be

Oh, I love this. More Kamukuras than we know what to do with. I've definitely seen some sketches of a Nagizuru concept, and those were awesome, but let me think, lol.

I feel like his luck has to do something during the surgery itself. Like, I think we almost can't have a character with Nagito's luck and say his luck was being chill during something as pivotal and time-consuming as the Kamukura Project. So I'm thinking the scientists made a small but crucial mistake on him that is both good luck and bad luck depending on how you look at it.

I'm going to say, instead of just removing his emotions and autonomous motivation, the scientists manage to accidentally give him super overactive reward centers. The rest of the project was a success. His emotions are still gone in most ways, but now, unlike most Kamukuras, he gets powerful hits of dopamine for completing tasks. He considers himself lucky, since he's enjoying himself more than the other Kamukuras, but the result also means that he becomes severely pleasure-seeking.

The only thing he can feel is reward. This means he is addicted to practicing his talents, but it also means he will go out of his way to use as many of his talents as he can.

The scientists initially write this off as a positive; feeling highly rewarded for a job well done means he's more engaged in what they ask of him than any of his predecessors. Sure, they're a little worried when he starts disassembling and reassembling things over and over, worried that becoming addicted to small, meaningless busy work will start to take priority over the actual things they want him to do. But he's still a Kamukura, and he still eventually gets bored of repetition, so it's fine.

They should be more worried about the disassembling part. The fact that he feels just as rewarded by tasks he himself creates, just as rewarded by work he himself makes necessary, just as happy to fix what he himself breaks, should worry them more.

They should be really worried about how easily he gets bored.

But this trial of the Kamukura Project (and if we're including every other AU in this, then I guess he's Iteration 4, after Mahiru's Iteration 3, lol. Byakuya I still see as more of a joint endeavor between the Togami Corporation and Hope's Peak, not nominally a part of the Hope Cultivation Plan, but rather a "separate" project, maybe called the Heir Enhancement Plan. He's still called Byakuya Togami. Then again, it would make sense for Nagito to have been before Makoto, since I could see Hope's Peak using a luckster and a reserve course student one year, then the next year's luckster as well. Maybe Mahiru got thrown in because she caught them dragging off Sato, idk. So, Iteration 1 is Hajime's Izuru Kamukura. Iteration 2 is Nagito. Iteration 3 is Makoto. Iteration 4 is Sato, but for right now I'm saying there was some complication and she died while they were working on her. And Iteration 5 is Mahiru.)

But this trial of the Kamukura Project is really pleasant to be around. When the scientists question him, he's very eager to answer the questions. After all, positive social interactions are highly rewarding for him.

He's extremely physically affectionate with the other Kamukuras, though Makoto is the only one who always tolerates it, so Makoto is the one he goes the farthest with, especially when Izuru isn't around to stop him. (Byakuya will also intervene, but not as regularly. And Mahiru sees it as respecting Makoto's autonomy to let him decide who's allowed to touch him.) He'll just be cuddling Makoto and nuzzling into his hair, and Makoto is just blinking and stoic. Bonus points if Makoto says something like, "I like it," one time when they do this, and it's the first thing he's ever said he liked. His first opinion ever, as Iteration 3, is that cuddling is nice.

(Izuru will be jealous of this. And Nagito would feel extremely rewarded by the accomplishment.)

Nagito Kamukura does not have compassion or all that much regard for the consequences of his actions. Because of his new analyst talents, he's able to plan ahead which courses of action will be the most rewarding for him, which means his pleasure-seeking isn't short-sighted, but if a course of action contains 5 guaranteed instances of pleasure and 10 possible negative repercussions, it is probably full steam ahead on that plan unless he can think of one with more guaranteed instances of pleasure. The only consequences that matter are ones that limit his ability to keep doing things.

In the at-this-point-inevitable event that there's some mass breakout of the Kamukuras, I could see Nagito staying behind to tend to the few scientists who didn't immediately die by Byakuya's or Mahiru's hand. Once he finishes bandaging them up so they're on the mend, he'll break an arm here, a leg there, so he has more stuff to heal.

#danganronpa #nagito kamukura au #nagito komaeda #makoto kamukura au #mahiru kamukura au #byakuya kamukura au #komaegi #kamuegi #izuru kamukura #makoto naegi #mahiru koizumi #byakuya togami #kamukuras au

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sorenblr · 4 months

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Now that you've completed the SMT V stream, I (and I'm sure some other folks, too) would love to hear what you think of it compared with the other main Megaten games you've played on stream. I think you've done SMT 1, SMT IV and SMT IV:A so far. Include Persona 1 too if you'd like.

And that dreadful Tokyo Mirage Sessions: pound sign Fire Emblem, too

SMTV is hard for me to discuss because there's very little about it that compels me to deeper thought. It really, genuinely bores me to think about, and anything I do have to say about it only evinces an incredibly cynical read of the series. I'll just put whatever I have left to say here, so that I don't feel the need to revisit.

It's just, you know, this bloodless cultivation of recycled semiotics from Nocturne. We ragged on IV for being overly invested in derivation and homage, but it looks almost daring coming off of V. The only really original idea that it brings to the table, the notion of Nahobino as the 'true' form of these divided and depreciated myth images, is almost offensive in the way it reframes designs that at least try to approximate real cultural attitudes towards religion as lesser, enervated reflections of yet more Tokusatsu tripe. Apart from that, it's a very inert piece of storytelling. I feel like a joke is being played on me whenever the game presumes an emotional investment in characters like Tao or Yuzuru.

I generally think highly of all the little design wrinkles that were implemented under Komori's stewardship, and that owe to his experience directing the more balance-intensive affairs of Etrian Odyssey. The new utility of consumables, dampeners as a limited means of addressing weakness in party structure, the need to attend to enemy and player Magatsuhi gauges etc. All necessary supplements to a battle system that was beginning to wear thin by 2016. Only my opinion of everything that enfolds it, the exploration, was diminished on this second playthrough. The layouts are still compelling, with a novel emphasis on managing layers of verticality, but they're populated with so much idiot open-world cruft. Vending machines, chests, glory crystals, health orbs, Miman. An overabundance of piddling incentive to keep you in a state of compulsion, and which I believe contributes to the exhaustion that many players feel come Taito. I still like the Miman, but they essentially exist in a continuum with the fucking feather collectables in Assassin's Creed.

(All the colored orbs littered around the sands are the perfect wedge to that design sensibility. They're almost totally inconsequential and only worth pursuing for the feeling of having absorbed more bright bobbles into yourself. They whisper to your lizard brain so that you don't feel too unstimulated navigating the space, which is never deigned to be worth the doing for its own sake. I'm out here picking up orbs and I can't even use them to extend the duration of Spartan Rage. Videogames are fucking stupid.)

It also made me more conscious of the ways the game fails to leverage art direction against what were probably non-ideal production conditions. It's never easy to forget that you're in a world of economically distributed UE4 assets, with no less than four brilliant hues of sparkling sand and ruined structures that have largely forfeited the Tokyoite specificity of previous games in favor of the same vending machines and multi-floor apartments and office buildings repeated ad nauseam. Daat never feels more like a hostile environment than a self-conscious playground. The concept art backdrops and rudimentary 3D textures of IV/IVA, and the claustrophobic interiors of I- all more lively by far. Pretty good skyboxes, though. No complaints there.

I think the series has moved into the sort of tired self-pastiche that every franchise turns to after decades of iteration. Time and chance happened, and now it's Angus Young crawling out of his mansion and into his boy-clothes to duckwalk across the stage while his grapefruit-sized prostate wages war against him from within.

If I were to rank just the main series from what we've streamed thus far, it would be something like I > IV > V > IVA. The only sense in which TMS has it at a disadvantage is that it emulates more cleanly. I'm glad that we're done with the latter half of the series and can finally move on, but I'll never forget that big huge enormous ass...

#ask #smt #megaten #atlus #smtv #streaming knowledge

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charmwasjess · 11 hours

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22 for Jin-Lo!!!

and then 3 & 17 for Jocasta :D

22) headcanon for Jin Lo!!

JIN-LO RAYCE MY BELOVED!! So, maybe this is a broader head canon than just Jin Lo, but I picture the Temple as almost a magic entity itself - an absolute maze of secret passages, fake doors, hallways that seem to go nowhere, hidden chambers that are used for something specific and then lost for generations and rediscovered. And the Archives being one of the oldest existing parts of the Temple and such an important place, they're some of the most riddled with secrets.

Jin-Lo spent his Padawan years with Jocasta determined to find as many of its secrets as possible, and every so often, when Jocasta thinks he needs a pick-me-up, she just casually reaches over to scratch the nose of one of the busts and a giant secret door opens in one of the bookcases. Jin-Lo's mouth drops. She just laughs. "Enjoy." She'll probably expect to see him again in another few days.

3) NoTP?

I think you meant generally, but I was already thinking about Jocasta for the second half of this, and got mad. :D

This is a funny answer because obviously I ship Dooku and Jocasta in all kinds of various iterations - as a couple, as a polycule with Sifo-Dyas, as friends with benefits… (hell, I might love writing them best as bitter exes in Thunder Answered Back) but I think I would have really hated whatever they were going to do with the love story between them in AotC. Like ughhh, can you imagine how annoying that plot would be for me personally?? First, the 1.0 reheat of the Romance Leads to the Dark Side plotline (already fraught) and how little that makes sense in Dooku's greater story. Also, what it reduces Jocasta to.

Even now, some within the fandom have pinned the Deserving Fall of the Jedi Order on her for being checks notes ah yes, lightly snarky to Obi-Wan that one time, so I can't imagine the hate she would have got for being a female character who has the audacity to exist onscreen taking up plot while being older who bore some "responsibility" for Dooku's fall. Don't get me wrong, I would love to see expanded screentime in AotC for either of those characters, but I shudder to think of the takes.

17) What's a book, movie, or show you think Jocasta would like?

Actually, like Dooku, I think Jocasta reads EVERYTHING. I think her ability to consume books is legendary and she has an opinion on everything from Space BookTok to Palpatine's ghostwritten and highly fictional memoir Sheev: an Understated Courage to poetry and lit crit. She manages to stay on top of this impressive heap of reading despite her Archive responsibilities because she does not sleep.

And yes, ahem, Bride is on her holds list. She makes direct eye contact with the Archive acolyte who hands her the holobook and thanks them politely. She's going to read it in her office over lunchbreak with her salad. Why not?

#this was so much fun Boli thank you I needed some time with Jo today #jocasta nu #I actually haven't read Bride yet but I think I have to because a few non-fandom friends read it and are suddenly inexplicably into abo

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00127am · 2 months

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signed with love and forever yours, renjun

postage. huang renjun & gn! reader, implied enemies (pride and prejudice coded), mentions of kissing cost to ship. 834 words

the day after you told me you loved me, i felt as if i've been blind my whole life. as if, after your confession, rose colored glasses had slipped upon my eyes to permanently rest on the bridge of my nose. to paint everything in sight with such a vibrance, vitality, that i swear i had never seen it before. though the doctors will say i have never been blind nor colorblind, that i have been able to see everything to the full extent of the human capacity, i will attest that it was you who granted me the ability of sight for the first time.

even before your concession, i found you in everything. hiding between the pages of my favorite books, seeping into every shade of my paints, infiltrating and consuming every corner and nook in my brain and body so that there was no place in which you were unable to execute the jurisdiction of your dictatorship. it's something so utterly irritating that it drove me up the wall and then some, convinced this was one of your numerous ways to get underneath my skin.

perhaps if i stopped to think, to consider why you seemed to be drowning out every other aspect of my life--leaving only thoughts, dreams, and fantasies of you behind in your wake--why you are able to slip underneath my skin and weave such a tender waltz through the strings of my heart--then i would have written this letter much sooner. certainly before your own proclamation.

i am sure now that i have never experienced love or any such iteration of infatuation towards anyone other than you. a feeling so utterly foreign and inordinate that it feels bittersweet on my tongue. scraped off with a drag of my teeth and a reluctant reciprocation stuck in the back of my throat. an ardent admission that i'm afraid you would find to be more bitter than sweet.

i'm not good with my words. and i'm not good with you. so it's only fitting that it's this letter that will return my the full effect of my affections back to whom they belong as i muster up any semblance of courage to speak them out loud. so in the meantime, read this as many times as it takes before i tell you in person. so that perhaps you can meet my confession with a kiss and i'll be rewarded for each and every humiliating detail written in record for you to keep (though even if you held them over my head, i find myself unable to even care--so endeared to everything you do, a degree of which makes me grit my teeth).

i love you and love you more. more than any words written here can express and much more than i'd care to admit. so wait for me and my confession in hopes that i'll be able to properly express just how much i love you. a love that gifted sight and a weight on my chest that proves to be much more fatal than any ailment of the heart.

forever (and unwillingly) yours,

about renjun's love letters.

renjun's handwriting is messy and sharp, every word pressed deep into the paper. written with such strong emotions (of both love and vexation) and in what seems to be such a hurry to spit the words out onto the page that he nearly ruins the letter in the process. every consonant and vowel is written in a way that can only be described as raw, unfiltered and rushed. straight from his heart to yours, sometimes with an attempt for a roundabout omission--one which does nothing to hide the full extent of his adoration.

he writes on crumpled, tattered paper. with holes and scratched out words, flowing into scratched out lines, sometimes paragraphs. often unreadable, you tease, but in truth perhaps you enjoy reading them over and over and over again until even the words laying dormant beneath scrawled, etched scribbles feel as if they've been carved into your flesh--all with the excuse of legibility.

to others, the state of his letters may appear as a lack of care. for what lover sends you their affections that look as if they have been to hell and back, pages that seem to hold niceties beneath crass adjectives and loathing sentiments. only to be found through wrinkled lines and harshly illustrated remarks. but these roughened letters are slipped within perfectly creased envelopes, sealed with a kiss (covered by a thin strip of tape), and covered with the numerous efforts of his artistic handiwork. there's a care for them to get to you safely. a care for you to read what he truly has to say, his unadulterated feelings (unconsumed by trivial allegories of love) that are poured out through every messy line of prose. even if his letters are signed with a reminder that every bit of his love towards you is unintended (and yet, he would never trade it for any fortune or feeling in the world).

your mailbox

taglist. @evilsailorsenshi @222brainrot @sour-chaos @jenaisnte thank you for supporting me! ♡

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albaqae · 8 months

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OH MY GOD I FINALLY WATCHED MUTANT MAYHEM AND DJJSAJJSNSNFHXJDJ

queue the ramble :) (also yes spoilers)

I’m so so happy being able to take off mutant mayhem filters NOW I CAN BASK IN THE FANART YES YESBEYYEYSYSYSYSA

Ok so like I pulled up right and I knew it was gon be GOOD, but IT WAS GOODER THAT GOOD???? After I watched rise I was like mkmk yea there’s NO WAY they can make them more teenager-y But they Did.

My friend my love told me that they told the VA to change the script if they wanted to and if they thought it was more relevant and honestly? BEST DECISION EVER

U can feel however u want abt the movie but I will Fight You about the relevancy of it so bad, like something that media tends to focus on capturing is the Present, the feeling of the very moment “insert thing” happens, and the relevancy of certain situations in certain times. It’s the very reason why nostalgia hits so hard, because it is capturing the feeling of being right there in that moment, and so effortlessly

That’s what I felt watching the movie, THEY LITERALLT SAID RIZZ AND SUS, and I never in my LIFE thought I’d hear that in an ACTUAL OFFICIAL MOVIE, I just KNOW history scholars are gonna psycho analyze every reference they make

ALSO I ADORE SPLINTER SO SO SO MUCHANJAJASJKEKNX, I love seeing just-became-a-father splinter it’s AKJSNDNX. I really really love the angle they took with him, and him seeing himself reflected in superfly and how being so strict hurts his kids because it doesn’t let them explore options or themselves fully, even if he really does think he’s right

ALSO HIM AND SCUMBAG AKAJNSNSNX IT WAS SO CUTEEEE IT KILLED MEEE

AND OH GOD near the end when superfly had the turtles and was abt to like snap them and I saw the broken shells I, no kidding, screamed. THE AMOUNT OF ANGST IVE CONSUMED THAT HAS HAD BROKEN SHELLS AS ONE OF ITS MAIN PLOTS AOQJJWNSNX, it was WILDDD having it canon ngl

Overall all the characters, like every single one, felt so fleshed out and real, it was genuinely so refreshing. I love how media now focuses on capturing raw human states instead of the heavily filtered beauty standard that our societies have for so long clung to. I think future generations being able to see that will really heal some of the damage being “chronically online” can cause

April had SUCH GOOD STYLE and I loved her :) because the plot was so heavy I almost expected a lot of the characters to not have an arc at all, so I was real surprised when splinter and April realized what they did was hurting ppl. The writers were REAL good at keep the plot semi-un-crowded despite how much was going on

Again, THE HUMOR WAS SO SO PRESENT DAY AKAJWJENNX

I loved Raph LIKE ALWAYS and how they made him an angry mf w/o making it against his brothers, and just making it as just how he is, I thought it was so nice to have an iteration where he keeps his spark without making it harmful to those he cares abt (his outfit at the end was so very fire it was my fav)

Mikey was so so sweet, I love whenever he’s both a goofy goober but also one of the most empathetic ones, the hope and kindness in his eyes <33

DONNIE WAS SO RADDDD, the VA did SUCH a good job, he has my fav voice and overall he was so cool in character too, freaking out abt the attack on titan doodle was so me and I love seeing a representation of what non-toxic fandom looks like that wasn’t seen as a problem or as meant to be looked down on, bro just loves k-pop and anime!!!

Leo was AMAZINFGGGT, they kept his leader persona and his want to take responsibility and decency without making him an ass !!! And for someone who grew up with 2012 Leo that’s something I was REALLY at awe at

It’s also the first turtle x human ship i don’t hate, they didn’t make Leo be CREEPY ASF LIKE W 2012 DONNIE, but he was still a hormonal teenager having a real crush and they were still friends

I also loved lizard dude

Superfly character was so rad too, the way he spoke and carried himself was really interesting to look at and I thought it was so cool, I love villains that have actual stories, AND BABY HIM WAS SO CUTEEEEE, wish we got more sibling content on him and his crew tho, but that’s very me nitpicking

Splinter cracking his back remind me of “BUMBUMBUM BUM BUM BUM!”

I love when tmnt doesn’t do orientalism :))) it’s very hard to avoid in iterations cause of the very foundation of tmnt, but I take it as a major W whenever we get a decent story(USUALLY AMAZING STORIES) that doesn’t rely on “oooohhhh mystery ninja stuff ooooooo” to make a compelling “aesthetic”

I also loved how Baxter stockman looked, and the turtle tots, the animation was OUT OF THIS WORLDDD, I rlly love how, as artists, we accept more diverse styles rather than just sticking to realism being the standard, because it allows for stuff like this to happen!!! And the scribbles added so much to the world ownqnnsndndjxjx I’ll rewatch it over and over again just for the art style

And also when Leo call himself leon IT MADE ME SO HAPPY BC LIKE LEO IN RISE LIKES LEON TOO IT FELT LIKE A WINK WINK SKSNSNWNMSND not sure if it was tho but it was me giggling and kicking my feet

The plot itself was so good too in the way that it applies to more than mutants, the seeking of acceptance is something really really relatable in so many contexts: neurodivergence, queerness, immigration, and so so so much more????? It’s one of my fav things of most tmnt iterations, its themes carry on to other contexts, not just to the specific story being told. This is what leads it to being so attractive to so many audiences

The music was very atsv and I thought it was so rad, it’s always nice to watch a movie that has that kinda soundtrack, especially in urban settings it’s a lot more fitting than an orchestra (sometimes, or at least I think)

By the time me movie was over with the BADASS SHREDDER APPEARANCE I lost control of my body and was just happy stimming violently and my friends just kinda 🧍‍♂️ at me, and they got the same rant u just read but even more messy, if that’s possible

I’m proud to have mutant mayhem as an official tmnt iteration, and I’m proud of the work that’s been done, and I hope to in the future maybe somehow contribute to a version too!!

I didn’t revise this, and it’s very messy, and I doubt I’ll go back and fix it, but it’s just beginning thoughts :D if you actually read this far thank you and I love you

#mm spoilers #tmnt #rottmnt #save rottmnt #tmnt analysis #mm! tmnt analysis #mutant mayhem #mm tmnt #mutant mayhem spoilers #mm raph #mm Donnie #mm leo #mm Mikey #mm splinter

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