#this is what peak performance looks like in a dynamic

[revvethasmythh]

fjord: if you don’t come underwater with us…..idk maybe you won’t get a cut of the loot, that could happen ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

jester: nott. I understand if you don’t want to come with us, but you saved my life before and I don’t feel as comfortable down there if you aren’t with us

nott: fjord you could learn a thing or two from jester. she looks into people’s hearts, makes them feel seen. and you? you are just a BASTARD MAN

fjord:

fjord:

fjord: I heard there’s a BUTTON FACTORY at the bottom of the ocean—

nott: this fucker

[izvmimi]

cw: minors dni. smut. first time sex. literal breeding. sci-fi themed. female body parts for reader. izuku is bigger than reader. size kink if you squint.

The dynamics of the world as you knew it thousands of years ago are now gone, and ever since you awoke from cryogenic slumber just 24 hours ago, the next phase of humanity’s plan to continue to exist and expand through the stars is now in progress.

Repopulation.

The new Earth substitute you inhabit is practically devoid of humans and will need bodies, at least until enough of you can build robots to replace your physical labor. There are fifty of you in total, of reproductive age and of peak physical, intellectual and emotional ability (aggregate, with some compartments allowed to be lower than others), and you are assigned to partners based on your compatibility.

They call you terraforming partners. It’s a euphemism for mate. Your only job is to breed.

There are of course other departments to work in the colonizing efforts. Some of the selected fifty have double appointments in the repopulation department and in research and development, others in art and communications, still others in nutrition. You failed to select a secondary appointment prior to your assignment to this planet, and thus have the appointment of Propagator-09A.

It is time to meet your mate. Taking in a deep breath, you leave your quarters, housed in one of two L-shaped buildings surrounding the Nexus or central headquarters, and walk straight down the hall of the dorm building into the designated repopulation centers. These are where you will perform your duties.

The two of you will enter a dome-shaped building from opposite ends of the room. You’re not sure who awaits you on the opposite end of the door, just that they are sexually compatible with you, and pass other measures of compatibility based on a predetermined algorithm. This algorithm is not meant for love, not meant for marriage, just sex and reproduction. Will you two produce at least two minimum viable human children that can be turned over to the administration to be raised? That’s all that is asked of you, and that is what you are contracted to do -

... regardless of who will show up in the next few minutes.

The watch on your wrist monitors your heart rate and everything other than it, and it is starting to beep in concern of your rising heart rate. You suck air into your lungs and let it blow out of your nose. 

Mates are not allowed to hurt you. They are to watch for your comfort, as you are to watch for theirs, they are to stop if you’re not ready, and you are allowed to leave at any time. They are meant to fit you perfectly, and you were specific enough in your application to explain how you liked to be held and pleased.

This will be okay, you tell yourself. It will all be okay.

The door slides upwards into the apex of the dome, and you step into your new home away from home, at presumably the same time as your mate. Marching straight into the center of the room, your eyes lowered to the ground to steady yourself, you don’t notice that the man on the opposite end has not yet begun to move, and when you look up finally once you’ve reached the center, you see him for the very first time, and his cheeks are tinted with the deepest of blushes.

The young man’s lips are parted wide, his hands balled into loose fists at his side as if he didn’t know what to do with them. Immediately, you recognize him from the debriefing session just prior to the cryogenic freezing and the young man - tall, handsome, far too talkative with a voice gentler than expected for a man of his stature but in keeping with his softened but still masculine facial features - seems to hang in the frame of the door, transfixed. Not one word comes out of his mouth. You notice the top of his head, covered in mossy green curls, just barely grazes the top of the door, remembering that the domes have much lower ceilings than the buildings back home.

“Hi,” you eke out, then quickly add, “watch your head.”

Your voice is smaller than usual as you offer him a slightly nervous, strained smile, and he looks as though a shock runs through his body as you speak to him, bumping his head anyway as he walks in despite your warning. You raise your eyebrows, and he laughs just as nervously before meeting up to you.

Standing just inches apart, he scratches his neck, and the pink beneath his freckles still hasn’t abated, but at least now he can talk.

“Sorry about that haha, I’m… I just didn’t realize you’d be so pretty.”

Your own face deeply warms at those words. He’s easy on the eyes too, and you’re thankful for it, but he doesn’t need to charm you as easily as he does. 

Shy yourself, you’re at a loss for words to reply, even thank you failing to be generated. He notices the silence, and quickly fills in the space.

“I’m Izuku. Izuku Midoriya… uh, your terraforming partner. Nice to meet you.”

His hand stretches out to shake yours, and you shake it. It’s larger, warm, and heavily calloused. You wonder what type of work he does, before the mission or now that he’s on this planet with you. With those broad shoulders and impressive biceps of his, you figure it could be something manual, but he’s always sounded quite intelligent so perhaps the muscles are more for show.

“Nice to meet you too. I’m ___.”

As if on cue, once you’ve introduced yourselves, the doors slide down behind the both of you, closing you in. There’s a loud click, and then the pod announces that it’s moving underground, and you steady yourself as gravity shifts. Your partner’s hands extend reflexively to hold you to prevent you from falling, but he’s careful not to touch you unless the motion is invited.

The pod settles onto solid ground again.

The space isn’t small, but it’s not large either, and while it’s mostly monotone, a smattering of whites and beiges and glass, many of the surfaces are soft and plush. A large, round bed with many pillows, a glass panel that doubles both as a window and a screen is across from it. When you try the window, you realize your pod hasn’t moved completely underground, and you can still see the suns’ rays in the afternoon. You’d heard that the pods are set up this way for insulation. For heat, and for… sound.

You look towards Izuku again. His back is turned from you and he’s looking around the pod as well, examining every corner and crevice, his fingers rubbing his chin as he thinks. He’s a caricature of a thoughtful person, you think, soon distracted by the way his shirt hangs over the muscles of his back. He stretches for a moment, and you see the muscles flex under the thin fabric. Something stirs in your chest, then you look away quickly, deciding to search through the closets.

These algorithms hit the nail on the head when it comes to your type, you hate to admit.

Poring through the closets and drawers reveals all manners of lingerie and loungewear, as well as a few very specific costumes that seem to be for roleplay. Your face warms as you see a set of angel wings, and a bunny leotard, then you glance at him, wondering if these are the types of things he’s into. When you see the gladiator suit hung neatly right next to it, you can feel your blood run cold. 

Yes, it’s what you’re into.

There’s a fridge in the center of the room with protein drinks, meal replacement shakes, fresh fruit, wine, chocolate and other sweets, as well as a call button for meals. Cutlery and dishes find themselves in another drawer, along with a small table spread and two chairs that appear at the click of a button in the wall. A makeshift fireplace. 

Anything to set the mood.

Pornography in abundance. Dirty comics. You and Izuku both stare in awe at the sheer collection of spank material, then look at each other, and can’t help but laugh.

They really prepared for everything.

By the time you’ve looked at everything, your stomachs are growling. You share a meal together in polite conversation, which turns into friendly banter, laughter, and then soon, back into pregnant silence as you realize the sun is setting, and you remember there not on a date, not to become friends but for a purpose. 

The ability to delay the inevitable is now being lost, and eventually you’re both acutely aware of the body that occupies the same space. Izuku looks up at you, clears the plate before him, and broaches the subject first.

“Have you ever-”

“Yes,” you lie.

“Oh.”

He looks down for a second, then looks up at you. You wonder if he’s disappointed, but soon he adds, “I’m sorry if I can’t meet up to expectations but I’m willing to learn how to make you feel good.”

Your stomach twists for a moment, but you offer a smile. He looks sincere, no waver in those bright, green eyes, and it warms you. The two of you clear away the dishes soon, and Izuku tells you he’ll be careful with your body, once clothing has been stripped away, and the two of you are bare and facing each other.

You don’t know what that will entail before he touches you, but the inevitable attraction you have towards him, the magnetic draw that he has to your body, informs you soon. Your lips meet, you on your tip-toes, and his arms reaching carefully around his waist. The first kiss is reticent, soft and anxious, the second is hungry, the third is greedy. His tongue tastes everything your mouth has to offer, yours fights to get its share as well. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, as your chest presses against his. Your hearts beat in time with each other. Thump, thump.

Izuku’s skin smells like spring water and freshly cut grass, and is soft and warm to the touch; his weight against yours is a comfort you’ve needed your whole life. His breath against your skin, soft kisses along your collarbone, between your breasts, over your lower belly, and finally culminating with his mouth laying over your clit makes your body buzz. He whispers something about reading that you cumming first will make you accept him better, but the way he eats you out hungrily makes you think that it’s less tactical and more for the pleasure of it. He’s good with his fingers, too, thick and deep in your crevices, gentle but purposeful. 

The act of copulation can be such a solemn, resolute affair, but for you two it’s a new dance, where your bodies open up to each other in concert. Your bodies press and join together, your mouths each swallowing the other’s gasps as he enters you, as you take all of him in. You feel like heaven, he feels like paradise; the ebb and flow between you is perfect, unending. The sun sets without your notice because all you can see is each other.

Unconquered territory is discovered inch by inch, from inside out. Izuku makes your toes curl, your heart skip several beats as you cry out his name, even if you’ve just learned it moments ago. It’s a job, but the pleasure seems almost sinfully indulgent.

And you’re both extremely hard workers by nature. 

Breathless by the time he’s filled you to the brim, you have to remind each other that you don’t have to be pregnant at this very moment. He pulls out of you reluctantly, and your body tries to hold onto him, but all good things must come to an end, even if temporarily.

“Are you okay?” he whispers over your knees. 

You’re better than okay, full of affection and hope, flooded in hormones. You nod, Izuku offers a kiss to both your kneecaps as he applies just enough pressure with a forearm to keep your folded position. Parts of his semen slips out of you and he asks you if he can, and when you nod, cheeks warm and breathing steady, pushes the slippery substance back into your body with two fingers. 

A timer goes off and he sighs, laying down beside you.

“Testing is at the end of the week,” he muses. He’s staring at the ceiling. You want to reach over to him, but it feels too intimate for a first meeting, even if he’s been in your guts, even if he’s planting himself forever into you.

“Yeah.”

“I think we can do it,” he adds. Your worn out body warms, wanting more already. 

It’s just a job, you remind yourself. It’s work, not play. Duty, not love.

“Me too.”

Izuku turns to look at you, and he’s so earnest and sweet, you can practically imagine you are lovers, instead of biologically matched mates, and that rather than this transient mission, you’ll be together for the rest of your lives.

[indiefilmfatale]

long night? (cole x fem!reader)

gifs by 38across^ plot: you get the pleasure to watch cole play in one of molly's games, so he takes you to his room and shows you what he's made of content warnings: server/patron dynamic, dirty talk, doggy style, daddy kink, penetrative & unprotected sex, rough sex word count: 2.5k a/n: so i just watched molly's game and can't stop thinking about joe's lingering glances on all the sexy women so here we are smut below the cut!

You can’t take your eyes off of him. Something about the way he confidently puts his chips down, inching his card upward so he can sneak a peek. He smokes cigarette after cigarette, smoke perfuming out of his mouth as he stares down at the table. He’s not stressed if he’s down a bet, or even if he loses entirely. His demeanor stays cool no matter what.

Not to mention the way he keeps glancing up at you. You meet his gaze everytime. The most you’ve gotten out of him is a cunning chuckle, the occasional shift of his eyes up and down your body as he inhales a puff of tobacco.

But every time he raises his finger to order a drink, you give Ursula —the only other server in the room— a side eye and she gets the message right away. It’s not uncommon for players to take a server home, especially given the required uniform of a tight cocktail dress and 4-inch minimum stilettos. So it was a customary practice between hostesses to claim a player at the table, taking them all of their drinks and performing flirty bits of banter when you did. Last week Ursula took home the hot art dealer with the infamous 9-inch dick. So this week, it’s your pick of the draw.

And amongst the slew of old businessmen and retired actors, Cole — the 20-something trust fund kid — was the obvious choice.

He shakes his empty scotch glass in the air, eyes not leaving the poker table, another unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. You’d almost be offended if he wasn’t so handsome. You dutifully tap the counter and Pascal the bartender pours another glass. You put it on a server tray and walk over to him, staring at him relentlessly as you strut. Your heels don’t make a sound on the Plaza suite floor, so he doesn’t even notice you until you’re hovering beside him.

You place his empty glass onto your tray, replacing it with the new one. He leans back in his chair, unsurprised by your presence but not at all invaded. He smirks, the stick of nicotine floundering upward like it's a toothpick. You take a zippo lighter from your tray and light it with a flick, offering the flame to him. He leans forward just enough to light it, eyes darting to yours.

In this quiet moment, you can’t help but take in the view, for just the second it takes for his cigarette to burn. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough for his dark chest hair to peak out under a single gold chain. His dress pants scrunch up around his groin revealing a subtle bulge. His hair has been combed through with his fingers all night, now slightly disheveled with a few strands brushing over his face.

“Thanks, honey.” He acknowledges, eyes lingering at where your dress ends.

You don’t say a word. You’re not supposed to when cards are on the table. And Molly took a leap of faith in you in this job, so you don’t want to disappoint her. She’s in the corner behind her laptop and reading glasses, as usual, watching everything with a knowing surveillance.

So you just turn around unhurriedly, walking back to the bar counter, feeling Cole’s stare on your ass which admittedly looked amazing in this dress.

When this game ends, it’s 2 AM. A handful of players get up to pay or collect from Molly, others stay at the table for another game. Cole makes his way over to you, shuffling poker chips between his hands. You’re exhausted, leaning your body weight on the counter with your elbows as your waist sticks out between the bar stools. He plops down on the one to your left.

“Long night?” He asks, but you know he doesn’t really care.

You softly groan, rubbing your temple. “Try a long life.”

“Oh, poor baby has to serve drinks to rich men for a living. Sounds grueling.” God, you really want to hate him. But when you turn your head to look at him, his eyes are sweet and caressing. You melt instantly.

“I’d like to see you walk a mile in my six-inch heels.” Is what you manage to come up with.

“But you look so much better in them, doll.” His gaze works his way up your body, stabling them at your cleavage peeking through the low neckline. Pascal sighs from behind the bar, “Another drink, Cole?”

Cole doesn’t answer him, doesn’t even look in his direction. His eyes remain on you. “I’m staying right upstairs tonight. I bet you’ve never laid on a Plaza bed before, comfort like you won’t believe.”

It’s forward, but expected. And he’s right, you’ve never stayed in a hotel fancier than a Hilton. But that’s not why you want to go to his room, and he knows it.

“Sure.” You reply, standing up properly.

You follow him out of the room, giving Molly a glance on your way out to silently let her know to sub in one of the servers sitting on the couch beside her.

The elevator ride is tedious and silent. You’re only going up one floor, so you just stand in the middle while he tipsily leans against the wall to admire you. You swallow, meeting his eyes but not saying a word.

When you enter his suite, you notice that it's basically identical to the one below, sans the poker table and Molly in the corner watching your every move. He lets you in first, but then walks right past you toward the mini-bar behind the loveseat. You watch him pour two drinks and bring one to you, a musky brown liquid not even reaching an inch up the glass.

You two stand close in front of each other. He clinks his glass to your’s and downs the entire shot in one go. You just take a small sip, watching his throat swallow the harsh liquid. “You bring a lot of girls up to your hotel room?” You wonder aloud, taking another sip.

He shrugs, “Only when they're as gorgeous as you.”

You nod slowly, “Hm…”

“I felt your eyes on me all night. God, I was half-hard under the table thinking about getting you out of that dress.” He huffs, setting his glass down on the coffee table.

You finish your drink, setting your cup down beside his. Now there’s nothing between you two but a longing heat. “So are you just going to keep talking about it or are you gonna do it?”

He stifles a dry laugh, leaning in close until your lips are a mere inch apart. He sucks in a breath, eyes flickering down to your lips. “I couldn’t begin to tell you all the things I want to do to you tonight.” And with that, he grabs your waist and plants his lips on yours.

Your hands go straight to his neck. The kiss liquefies you into his arms, his hands gripping you in a way that presses your body flat into his. Your lips move together in hunger, depravity almost. His tongue sinks into yours and you can taste the cigarette smoke and scotch, and you feel yourself wanting to devour him more and more.

You feel his hands find the zipper of your dress and he opens it down the small of your back. The cool air on your body sends a small chill down your spine. He takes his time peeling the fabric off of your shoulders and down your arms, lips trailing over to your cheeks and down your neck.

When the dress drops to the floor, you're left in just a small pair of lacy panties. He kisses your clavicle, down your breastbone, gripping one of your tits while he begins to suckle at the other. You huff a breath of air, his tongue circling your left nipple. Your brain goes blank from the pleasure, eyes fluttering shut.

“God, you’re already wrecked for me, baby.” He mumbles against your skin, the hot air of his breath creating a whole other sensation.

You manage to tug at the backside of his shirt, untucking it from his pants. “No fair…” You sigh.

“Okay, okay,” Cole obliges, lifting his shirt above his head and tossing it onto the loveseat. “C’mon, honey.”

You return the heat of his mouth, his lips like a drug, as he works you backward toward the bed. You feel the comforter hit the backside of your legs as you find his belt buckle and undo it. He helps you tear his belt off. You unbuckle his pants, his tongue pressing against yours’.

Your hand dives into his pants and you finally feel the heaviness of him, thick and hard underneath a pair of silk briefs. He lets out a guttural groan into your mouth as you grip him, tugging half-heartedly on his cock. “That feel good?” You say against his lips.

“Mmph, mm-hm.” He moans. “I need you right fucking now.”

You kiss him again, suckling on his breath. “How do you want me?” You’d do anything for him to be inside you at this point, your core buzzing and soaked.

He leans over and licks your bare shoulder. “Turn around.” He says under his breath.

You slowly turn until you feel your ass pressed firmly against his groin, feeling the hardness on him between your thonged ass. He places wet kisses all down your back, wrapping his hands around you to grip your tits with ferocity.

“Get on all fours.” He orders softly, hands moving to your waste and guiding you onto the bed.

You crawl with your ass pointed at him until you're resting your hands on a handful of pillows at the top of the bed. You glance over your shoulder and see him kick off his pants and underwear onto the floor. He kneels onto the bed and places kisses on the fat of your ass cheek, biting down on the skin just enough to get a soft moan out of you.

Then you feel his fingers on your core. Through the lace, he rubs the fabric between the lips of your pussy onto the tip of your clit. “Fuck, your leaking through your goddamn panties.” He hisses. You rest your head in your arms, sticking your ass even further in the air and giving him better access. “You wanted this so bad, hm?”

“I needed this so bad, Cole.” You mimic back to him in a moan.

“And you’ll let me do anything to you, won’t you?” He presses a little harder on your clit. “You’ll let daddy do anything he wants to your pretty little pussy?”

You feel yourself get wetter at his words, the small movements of his fingers getting easier and slicker by the second. “Daddy can do whatever he wants, just give me your fucking cock, please.” He chuckles as you beg, high on his own power over you. “Are you sure you can handle it, sweetheart? I’m a bit of a stretch.” You feel him move your panties so your core is exposed to him.

“Please fill me up, Cole. I wanna feel you so bad.” You’re dying for him to give you anything, all of him.

He takes his bare cock and uses it to moisten himself with the wetness of your folds. As he circles your pussy with it, he sighs. “You’re gonna take all of me. Not some, all, okay?” You nod against the pillows, feeling ready and not at all prepared at the same time. He still doesn’t enter you. “I have to hear the words, sweetheart.” “All of you, Daddy. Give it all to me.”

And with that, he shoves his entire cock into you in one puncture, practically splitting you in half. You squeal, gripping the comforter below you tightly to steady yourself. He’s bottoming you out, and without pulling out, wiggling his hips against your ass. The pain mixes with pleasure in the most delicious way, and your eyes are already watering.

“Mm-hm, that's it, baby.” He pulls out slowly, only to buck into you again. You feel his fingers dig into his waist to give him better control. “You’re daddy’s little fucktoy.”

“K-keep… Keep going.” You whine, breathless.

He’s all smug about it, brows furrowing as he grins. He begins to pump into you at a dizzying pace, his cock tilting into your cervix at the exact right spot. You can already feel your first orgasm approaching. Moans spill from your mouth as you grip onto pillows, the headboard, the sheets, anything you can get your hands on.

“You’re so fucking tight, oh my god.” He groans. “And just soaking for me, honey, like you were meant for this cock.”

“Mm, daddy…” Your pleasure grows and grows, your pussy throbbing around him. “M’ gonna…”

“Fuck, are you coming already?” His pace remains the same, letting out these grunting moans. A coil in you snaps, and your orgasm hits you suddenly and violently. You're writing your face against the comforter as you're practically mewling against it.

He slows down as you come down from you high, but only for a moment. Within the lull, he sends a swift and hard smack to your ass. “Shit.” You moan.

“Only my cock can make you feel this way, hm? Only daddy’s cock.” He smacks your ass again, right where it's most tender and turning red already.

You’re so oversensitive from his cock and the spanks that you're drooling. Your moans are high-pitched and desperate for more. “Are you gonna cum inside me, daddy?” He groans at the invitation, bucking his hips sloppily and fast. Your ass is bouncing off of him, “Can I get another one out of you?” He breathes, reaching around your waste to play with your clit. The sensation sends you over the edge, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Mmmm, mmph,” You moan against the pillow. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” He doesn’t, only fucking you harder. He feels you pulsate around him again, thighs shaking. “That’s it. Cum for me..”

Your sweat beads down your face as you feel your second orgasm come over you. This one is overpowering and all-consuming, your hips writhing. “Oh… Fucking hell, I’m cumming.” You whine.

“Cum with me, baby. Let me feel you cum.” He refuses to stop his hips, fucking his own orgasm into you. You feel a deep warmth fill your pussy as his groans turn perversely pitchy. You tighten around him, pulling another moan out of him as his shoulders tense. He grips your ass with this whole hand, holding onto the cheek for dear life as he spills.

“Fuck me…” He lets out, slowing down and leaving his cock still and pulsating.

You both let out a synchronized sigh, and he pulls out of you tentatively. His cum leaks out of your hole and onto the blanket. You only have the energy to collapse forward, lying on your stomach as he lays beside you.

He smiles at your exhausted state, softly caressing the hair out of your face. You blink up at him, blissed out. “You can sleep here tonight, honey.” He grins, almost compassionately. “But I don’t think I can let you leave. I’m not done with you yet.”

[drdemonprince]

I read your newsletter about "transmisandry" today. I'm a trans man and I generally agree with what you said. However, I was wondering how you would classify a particular experience of mine and other trans men I know irl or have seen online.

In short, I find that in some queer spaces, masculine and/or "binary" (meaning, not non-binary) trans men are treated as outsiders and enemies. I imagine some straight-passing queer cis men experience similar.

This prejudice against masculinity has nothing to do with us being trans, and is in no way oppressive, but it seems to me that some people have a hatred/disgust/discomfort/etc. with masculine men, especially if we are proud of our manhood. I sometimes feel excluded in queer or progressive spaces, and like I have to change myself to fit into others' idea of "acceptable" manhood.

I think this tends to emotionally affect trans men in particular because being a man is generally hard-won and joyful for us. Have you experienced prejudice in queer spaces, especially trans spaces, for being transmasculine? And while I don't believe there exists systemic misandry, is this not a form of misandry, just interpersonal?

Thanks, I really appreciate your work.

Hi there, thank you for great question. What you are describing is certainly a very real and troubling dynamic within both queer and feminist spaces, and it's put me off for a very long time. I have sometimes referred to this as "playful 'misandry' feminism", always with "misandry" in quotes because, as we've already established, it's not a real locus of systemic oppression. I have also sometimes in the past likened it to "Men's Tears Coffee Mug" feminism in its performative, self-congratulatory, typically white feminist stance.*

*in the Koa Beck sense of the term. Someone who is not white can be a white feminist.

I was always put off by performative man-hating jokes and the exclusion of men within feminist spaces because, well, I was one, and because it nearly always played out in transmisogynistic ways that were transparent to me, and because I was a major ride-or-die for men who were victims of sexual violence yet were frequently excluded from survivors' spaces (again, because I was one, even before I realized that I was).

There are a lot of troubling effects that happen when feminist women make a big performance out of finding all men to be disgusting and evil and frequently express disinterest in men's feelings or suffering (which used to be way more common in my estimation, around the early 2010's or so it seemed to peak). I was driven away from feminist spaces as a young closeted trans man because I could see such spaces were not for me or for any of the other men that I cared about and needed support. On the inverse side of things, I have spoken to many trans men who said that "playful "misandry"" feminism actively made it harder for them to realize that they were guys. Men were seen as the enemy and inherently evil and destructive and so they felt absolutely disgusting about the possibility of being a man, or feared transitioning would get them seen as a betrayer of the feminist movement.

As you rightly note, it is not just trans guys who get excluded by such dynamics. Cis men who are genuinely avowed feminists can be driven away by such forces, which is especially upsetting in the case of sexual assault survivors and queer men. Trans women and TMA enbies are excluded from feminist and women's spaces because they supposedly "look like" men to these types, and their own feelings of superficial safety rank above the actual data on who is the most at risk structurally (which is trans women). Butches are regarded in some spaces as too aggressive or unacceptably masculine because of it. And people's analysis of gender oppression just overall sucks when they buy into "playful misandry" style feminism because they go around saying shit like "femme people are oppressed by masc folks." what the hell does that mean. Does a cis, gender conforming feminine woman have less structural power than a butch lesbian? I don't think so.

It seems to me that the big problem here is that "playful misandry" feminism is rooted in a deep deep misunderstanding of the structural nature of oppression. Sexism isn't caused by patriarchy and capitalism, it's caused by "men" and so hating men and excluding them is what will fix things. Men as individuals are responsible for sexism and so women should be as detached from them and unsupportive of them as possible. This logic leads to a TERFy place really quickly, and yes, it also really really damages trans men.

My opinion is that it's best to critique this problem as the political failure that it is: a misunderstanding of sexism as individualistic rather than systemic. That's the core issue from which all the problems flow -- from rampant transmisogyny to the exclusion of cis male sexual assault survivors to the feelings of alienation of trans men. Yes sometimes naming the performative nature of "man hating" jokes and the like is helpful because people recognize instantly what that dynamic is when they hear it. But the "misandry" itself is not the core problem -- it's the shitty gender politics and white feminism.

Does that make sense? To be clear, I think it's something trans men get to talk about. I talk about it from my positionality quite a lot really. I don't think "misandry" is ultimately the helpful or clarifying way to name it, but I will sometimes throw around that term with a TON of qualifiers if I'm discussing the specific interpersonal dynamic of women saying that men are evil rapists innately or whatever. But really discussing the broader gender politics failure that leads to those little shitty comments and looks is almost always more helpful. If trans guys and cis guys are feeling excluded from a space due to these dynamics it's almost always the case that trans women, TMA enbies, butch women, and lots of women of color are too.

[ramjam]

Hi... long time no NnT-Analysis.

I want to talk about Lancelot and Tristan's dynamic. I'll be putting it under a read-more so I don't spam your dashboard.

First, let's take a look at their designs.

Tristan's Signature Color: Blue-ish Teal

Lancelot's Signature Color: Pink-ish Red

According to color theory, these two colors complement one another. Nakaba utilizes complementary colors quite often in his designs. You'll notice this in many of the most important pairs. It's a visual way to emphasize the connection between two people.

The use of complementary colors goes as far as Lancelot's Sin disguise. When he takes that form, he wears a teal collar... Just like how Tristan wears a collar with Lancelot's red.

Both of them also got their hair colors from their mother, while the style is more similar to their fathers. They have what has been described as a "feminine" appearance. Lancelot is incredibly bothered by this, to the extent he tries really hard to present as masculine. Tristan on the other hand doesn't seem to be bothered by it himself.

Their first volume covers also mirror one another.

Their namesakes are pulled from Arthurian mythos. In some of the original stories, Lancelot and Tristan do act similarly as friends who are "two sides of the same coin" in a way. Fated companions who counter one another.

Going into actual plot stuff now. The way their stories are intertwined, the particular tropes their relationship embodies, and why it's important.

The growth of both of their characters is often explored through their connection. For example, Lancelot first learned to read hearts while dueling Tristan.

Ban references the moment Lancelot received his scar here. Tristan was so excited while dueling his friend, that he lost control of himself. The heightened emotions awakened the dark magic in him that he inherited from his father. Tristan blacked out, striking Lancelot.

This was a significant moment for both of them. Tristan and Lancelot both experienced an "awakening" here, which set them down their respective paths and cemented their bond.

Lancelot is quite literally marked by him. With this scar, there will always be apart of him that is irreversible tied to his relationship with Tristan.

Additionally, the fact Tristan had hurt and permanently scarred Lancelot is what triggered Tristan's anxiety about fighting. It affected him so deeply that he began to fear combat, instead wanting to pursue a path of healing. So that it would never happen again.

The bulk of this film takes place when they're both 14. Which is a few years after Lancelot initially went missing. He felt the need to hide his identity, but even in his disguise, he wanted to somehow push Tristan to his peak performance.

This illustrates how Lancelot never once viewed him as a threat. Tristan isn't a monster to him... He wants to see him exercise the strength that Tristan is so terrified of.

(I wish this site had CC, but Lancelot wolf-whistles at him before this line...)

Lancelot knows Tristan well enough to be aware that these fears would hold him back in combat. He takes action when they fight together, pushing and prodding him until he is forced to conquer that fear and act.

Tristan's hesitancy comes from his care for Lancelot. He's terrified at the thought of ever hurting him-- or anyone-- again. Lancelot sees this differently. He views Tristan's attitude as if he's viewing Lancelot as someone weak who needs protection. He has faith in Tristan's strength and never doubts him. But that faith only makes things more complicated when Tristan avoids facing him. Lancelot knows he's capable and he wants to be his equal in that regard.

Earlier, I referenced Ban's comment in the one-shot where he wonders if Lancelot's behavior at that time had to do with this duel. There's an implication that part of why Lancelot felt so restless and inadequate had to do with Tristan's rejection. This was worsened by the fact that Lancelot had learned to read hearts, so he could see what Tristan must've been thinking in that moment. Tristan's concern doesn't come from viewing Lancelot as weak, but that's how Lancelot interpreted his heart and his words.

Between that and being babied by his parents, he lashed out and ran away to "prove himself." Which is how he went missing to begin with.

He didn't want to stop like Tristan did. He wanted to keep going. Tristan's strength motivated him, but Tristan didn't return those feelings because of his own self-loathing.

In the end, Lancelot is the one who convinces Tristan to embrace his power. He vowed to be there to stop Tristan in case things ever go too far.

Lancelot reads Tristan's heart in this moment and smiles to himself.

Lancelot's love for his friend manifests through his desire to propel Tristan to his peak potential. Through Lancelot's affection, Tristan changes forever. His pure faith in Lancelot and his intentions was all he needed to conquer his fears. To him, he doesn't need to be worried about losing himself, because he has Lancelot.

Many years pass since this moment, but Tristan still views Lancelot as that anchor he needs by his side. Tristan's control over his power has grown significantly, but he still fears using it without Lancelot by his side.

Something interesting about their dynamic in the present day is the way the dynamic has flipped. While Tristan respects Lancelot's power, now he is the one feeling weak in comparison. This is also a testament to the strength of their bond. While Tristan feels they're no longer "equal", it doesn't drive a wedge in their relationship. He isn't resentful or jealous, it doesn't push him away from Lancelot. Their bond is too strong for that.

Not to mention, what seems to bother him more than anything else is the fact that Lancelot won't discuss how he gained this new power. He's bothered by the way his friend vanished without a word for so long, and now refuses to talk about what happened.

Regardless, this just means that Tristan trusts Lancelot's abilities without question. The moment he arrives, Tristan believes so strongly in his ability to win above anyone else. If anyone can defeat the King of Camelot, it will be his closest companion.

Circling back to Lancelot being his anchor: This is pretty common in fantasy Shounen. Leading characters who possess dark magic often have a partner who they rely on to bring them back down, or stop them from going too far and losing themself. However, you usually see it between the leading male main character and the female secondary protagonist... In fact, this is the exact dynamic Meliodas and Elizabeth had with each other in the original manga.

This dynamic came up frequently whenever Meliodas went full-demon mode. But this page from the Holy War arc in particular really reminds me of Lancelot's line where he says he'll "beat Tristan into the dirt if he has to."

Considering these two are Tristan's parents, you'd think the parallel with Tristan would be between him and Isolde, or something. But it's not. It's with Lancelot.

Their chemistry is so natural. They spend some time apart, but nothing really changes. The play off of each other so easily and understand each other so deeply.

Lancelot teases him for a lot of things. Being air-headed, being childish around his parents, etc. But it isn't mean-spirited, and Tristan knows that. It's just an aspect of their relationship and one of the ways Lancelot shows affection to people. That's Tristan's best friend who is mean to him, but he still calls him by a cute little nickname ("Lance.")

The implications that Tristan has called Lancelot out for being like his father before is really funny. Quick lines like this convey a lot about a relationship, it demonstrates that familiarity.

I have a lot more I could say about them, but Tumblr apparently has a 30 image limit per-post. I'm just really excited to see what comes next for them in the timeskip. I suspect all of these building themes are going to come together in some pretty important ways the closer that we get to the main conflict of the sequel.

This analysis isn't necessarily meant to be shippy... But I do ship them, lol... ❤️

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Discipline | Levi Week Day 5 - Modern!AU

big thanks to @leviweek2023 for hosting this and helping me work through this writer's block!!

✧ word count ➼ ~2.6k ✧ notes ➼ modern!au, manager!levi, smut, MDNI, mean dom!levi, afab!reader, fem!reader, filthy filth, y'all know i couldn't get through levi week without producing some type of smut ✧ content/warnings: power dynamics, manager and employee, some dubcon themes, degradation, vaginal fingering, spanking, creampie, hair-pulling, finger-sucking, marking

Levi Ackerman was a real piece of work. You had made mental notes of all the supervisors on staff during onboarding, having had your fair share of shitty managers, and you already knew Levi was going to be one of them. He didn't seem like the type to communicate well, and certainly did not seem like someone that would be willing to listen to you if you wanted to bring any internal concerns up.

Your world flipped upside down once you realized you were going to be assigned to him.

It's okay, he's just your manager, you'd think to yourself.

All you had to do was do the work and be professional. As long as he could be professional back, then you could bear through this. Maybe he wasn't as bad as he seemed.

Your first one-on-one in his office did not go the way that you had expected it to for multiple reasons.

He was 100% an asshole. He barely made eye contact with you and spoke to you as if you had no idea what you were doing, completely ignoring the credentials that had landed you this job. You were easily beginning to hate him.

You were also unable to keep your eyes off him. The entire meeting, all you could focus on was how he looked with his sleeves rolled up, showing off his forearms; how the top two buttons of his dress shirt was undone, offering you a sneak peak at his collarbones; and how his blazer hugged his lower back, naturally directing your gaze towards his ass.

From that day forward, you weren't able to be normal around him. Every time he passed you, you felt your lower belly tingle. You found yourself having to peel your eyes off him whenever he had his office door open. It was inappropriate. He was your manager. You couldn't be horny for him without your life becoming an HR nightmare.

You decided to try to focus on the "asshole" part of him, silently hoping that if you hated him, then your hatred would overtake the horrifically inappropriate thoughts you kept on having about him.

You were wrong. It just made you hornier. However, you still convinced yourself that you just had to work harder to hate him. You very quickly found yourself becoming more and more hostile towards him. While you still turned in your work appropriately, you began to exhibit passive aggressive behavior towards him. You mouthed off about him to coworkers, making sure to raise your voice every time he passed by, and even went out of your way to blatantly disobey his requests if it didn't actually affect your work performance.

Thus, it was a long time coming before he finally called you into his office. You were busy typing away at a report that was due in a few hours when you were rudely interrupted by Levi stepping out of his office and calling out your name.

"We need to have a talk."

He spoke in a calm, but irritated tone.

You sighed in exasperation.

"Does it have to be now? Or do you not want this report to get turned in on time?"

His eyebrows scrunched together as you could visibly see him getting pissed.

"Yes it does," he said sternly. "Come to my office. Now."

You let out a more than audible groan as you rolled your eyes before finally following him into his office.

The door was slightly cracked open behind you as you stood in front of him. He was leaning back, resting his waist against his desk, crossing one leg over another, with his hands buried into his pockets.

"Is this about my numbers?" you asked, eager to break the tension. "I can assure you, they're well exceeding expectations."

"Tch," Levi tutted as he let out a scoff. "If this was regarding your numbers, you'd simply receive a performance report in your email."

Without even having to ask, you knew that this was about your behavior. You immediately averted your gaze, hoping that he hadn't put together the pieces that you were being a brat to him in the vain hopes that you could convince yourself that you were more angry at him than you were horny for him. Unfortunately, the two compounded upon each other, so you just found yourself angrily horny at him.

"We need to talk about your behavior."

"What do you mean?" you asked innocently, glancing up and immediately noting the unamused look on his face.

"You've been acting like a little shit and I would like to give you the benefit of the doubt before resorting to any disciplinary measures."

"And what exactly have I been doing, boss?" you challenged.

His frown turned into a scowl as you continued to question him.

"You've been purposefully ignoring my emails requesting you to do a report differently, saying inappropriate comments to staff—especially when it comes to me—and you've been showing off this distasteful attitude of yours exclusively to me."

You stood there quietly as he scolded you, trying to ignore the increasing heat building up between your legs as he reprimanded you.

"Well," you spoke with a sharp exhale, trying to keep yourself together. "It's obnoxious working under you, so I have to vent somehow."

He got up and began to walk towards you, presumably to open the door to kick you out now that you've explained yourself.

"Now if you're done wasting my time-"

He instead did the exact opposite. You turned towards the door as you spoke, but he beat you to it. Before you could finish your sentence and reach for the doorknob, he placed his hand on the door, gently shutting it, indicating that you were not allowed to leave.

You felt your breathing get warm in anticipation. He was standing right behind you, close enough that you could feel his breath on you.

"You think I haven't noticed?" he whispered quietly, his breath tickling the hairs on the back of your neck.

You didn't answer, not wanting to make assumptions as to what he was referring to.

"The way you've been shooting glances in my direction?" he spoke curiously. "The way you have to run off to the bathroom immediately after we have one of our 'conversations'?"

You felt chills run up your spine as he reached down and locked the door, with his other hand gently placed on your waist.

"Bend over."

"Wh-What?" you asked, your eyes widening in shock.

"You heard me," he reiterated as he took a step backwards. "Bend over. On my desk."

He stepped off to the side, motioning over towards his desk.

"Now," he scolded after it took you a second to react.

You slowly moved towards his desk, hesitant to jump to the conclusion of what he was trying to do, although the signs were obvious.

Having decided that you were moving too slowly, he stepped behind you and slightly pushed you down, causing you to lose balance and fall straight onto the wooden surface.

You grunted as your chest hit his desk, although he didn't push you down hard enough to cause any pain.

By the time you reoriented yourself, his hand was cupped around your ass, gently squeezing at it as his hand slipped underneath your skirt.

He tutted quietly in disappointment once he went to touch your bare bottom but was blocked off by the pantyhose you had decided to wear that day.

Levi's hand quickly reached up to your waistband and pulled down the pantyhose and your underwear at the same time, causing you to gasp. He raised up one of your legs as he took them off you, leaving them dangling off the other.

"L-Levi, what are you-"

"Disciplining you," he said in a matter-of-fact tone before you could finish your sentence.

Hearing him speak those words caused your wetness to gather as your core heated up. It gave you an overwhelming feeling of needing to hide, especially since you didn't have anything to hide the fact that you were wet. You were bent over in front of him with your panties removed and skirt bunched up around your waist.

His hands gently squeezed at your inner thigh, and your hips subtly moved backwards as you grew more impatient for his touch.

He immediately noticed and gently flicked at your slit, causing you to flinch.

"You wanted this, didn't you?" he mumbled directly into your ear, his lips brushing up against it.

You bit down on your lip at the sensation and nodded at him.

You couldn't see him from your position, but the corner of his lips tugged up in a subtle smirk as he saw your response. Immediately after, you felt the pads of his fingers rubbing up against your clit, causing you to gasp audibly.

His smirk was quickly replaced with a frown.

"Quiet now," he growled at you, gently nipping at your ear as a warning.

You let out a quiet whine as your hips bucked back towards him again. You were getting so wet that your slick was dripping down your thighs. Every second that you couldn't have him was driving you nuts.

You took in a sharp inhale as you felt him slowly slide his middle finger into your heat, feeling slightly embarrassed over how wet you were over him. Another whine came out of your throat as his index finger joined as well.

His fingers gently pumped in and out of you, the tips of his fingers rubbing up against your sweet spot. He began to spread his two fingers as they were inside you, slowly stretching you out.

A more audible moan came out of your mouth as you felt him stick a third finger in, the pain mixed in with the pleasure that was beginning to overtake your body. Thank goodness the walls were thick.

It was embarrassing, the noises he was drawing out of you as he pumped all three fingers in and out, your pussy essentially sucking him in. His fingers brushed up against the bundle of nerves inside you that made it impossible for you to think with each time that he thrust them further inside you. If this is what his fingers felt like, you couldn't help but wonder what his cock would feel like instead.

Your breathing destabilized as you felt your walls tightening around his fingers. You were close.

However, before you could let your incoming orgasm hit you, he suddenly pulled his fingers out, leaving you with a disappointing and empty feeling. You gripped at his desk, frustrated that he had stolen your orgasm from you.

Your pussy throbbed as you vaguely heard a zipper getting undone, your breath getting caught in your throat when you felt the tip of his cock rubbing up against your slit.

Before you could process anything, Levi quickly stuck his fingers in between your lips, forcing your mouth open and sticking two of his fingers deep into your mouth. Your tongue circled around his fingers as you tasted yourself on him, which only seemed to further arouse you.

His other hand grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back as he slammed his cock all the way inside you, with his fingers muffling your cries.

Levi was not gentle as he fucked you. He meant it when he said discipline, and it showed as his hips roughly snapped into yours again and again, the tip of his cock easily rubbing up against your cervix with every thrust.

It was too much. You couldn't think, with every thrust of his only further scrambling your mind as euphoria coursed through your veins. You tried to say something, but his fingers that were buried in your mouth made your words incomprehensible.

"Speak up," Levi scolded, a malicious look entering his eyes, with him being fully aware that you couldn't actually talk. "Or did no one ever teach you not to mumble?"

His thrusting paused for a split second as he took his hand out of your mouth, lifting your leg and propping it up on the surface of his desk, roughly slamming his cock deeper into you.

You cried out, his fingers no longer being there to quiet down the lewd noises coming out of you.

"L-Levi, it's too much, I-"

Levi released your hair, letting you fall back down onto his desk, planting his palm in the middle of your back, firmly pinning you down onto the wooden surface.

"You can take it, can't you?" he murmured, momentarily slowing down.

You bit on your lip and nodded at him.

A smug expression quickly appeared on his face at your reaction.

"That's what I thought," he mumbled as his pace picked up again.

He was relishing in the way that your ass jiggled as he drilled into you. He quickly whipped his hand across your asscheek as he spanked you, causing you to yelp, clearly no longer giving a shit if anyone else in the office heard what was going on during your 'talk'.

Your pussy clenched up around his cock as soon as he spanked you, your breathing growing more unsteady with every single time that his cock rubbed up against the one spot that made it impossible for you to think. You heard a small groan come from his throat as he felt how tight you suddenly were around his cock.

"...g-gonna cum...Levi-"

"Already?" he asked with a mocking tone. "Dirty little slut."

His pace picked up further and you whined as you felt his fingers rubbing down at your clit as he continued to slide in and out of you roughly to the point that his desk was shaking.

"Stay quiet for me, or I'll make it even worse next time," he hissed after you let out a whine upon feeling his fingers on your clit.

His command, which implied that this was likely not a one-time thing, and his tone in which he scolded you worked together as he finally brought you over the edge. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, suddenly and intensely, and you had to plant your face into his desk to keep your moans from being too audible.

You felt both your clit and cunt twitch as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs were shaking that you could barely hold yourself up and your hands were clenching at his desk with such force that your knuckles were pale.

He leaned down against you, biting you harshly on the neck as his thrusts began to get sloppier, beginning to chase his own high. His body weight pinned you down onto the desk so that you could barely move, with his teeth that had sunken into your flesh leaving a mark that would no doubt be visible for days.

His thrusts slowed down as his hips continued to snap into yours harder, burying his cock deep into your pussy. Levi finally let out a deep, guttural groan as his cock twitched while shooting his cum deep inside you. Although you could barely think, you silently thanked yourself for being on birth control.

His own body was shaking as he continued to slide in and out of you for a few more seconds, breathing heavily. Levi let out another quiet groan as he finally pulled out of you, pushing himself up so that he was standing again.

He looked down at you as he steadied his own breathing, tilting his head a bit to the side as he watched his cum drip out of your cunt and down your thighs, easily feeling himself on the verge of getting aroused again.

Levi slapped your ass one more time.

"Now get out. I have work that needs to get done."

#: @chaotic-on-main @romantichomicide95 @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @belovedackerman @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @roseofdarknessblog @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @meltingforthatackerman @kokosmiles join my taglist!

[kpop-hive]

Lessons| Stray Kids

Lesson 4

Part 4 of Lessons

Part One, Two, Three 👈🏽

Warnings ⚠️: Dom x sub dynamics, rough sex, dacryphilia, Oral (Male and Female Receiving), finger sucking, creampie, dirty talk, degradation, spanking, sir kink, mommy kink, Switch!Jisung, Dom!Minho, Switch!Reader

“Now, are you ready for the next lesson, little slut?” Minho asked firmly, his hand on your thigh gripping it tighter. “N-now, but it’s 2:30 in the morning.” You replied looking over to your clock. “So, this is the perfect time to break in the new instructor and student, and besides, I think Chan was a little too loud when he spoke to me about how hard he and Hyunjin went on you earlier in the shower yesterday, because our next student was very eager to come and get help from you which is why he’s here. He said that he has always been heavily invested in learning from me and you.” Minho spoke. You bit your lip in curiosity, which member could he be talking about, you’ve already fucked half of the group so that only leaves three men left. “Okay, then where is he?” You asked. Minho looked towards the crack opened peak of your bedroom door that connects to your hallway, you looked to where he stood before he called him in. “C’mon, don’t be shy, how can you be shy when you want to learn?” Minho asked taunting his younger member. When the door opened, your eyes widened in surprise. You never really spoke with him too much, but knew that he always had a shy side and wild side.

“(Y/n), I know you know Jisung right?” “Yes, hey Jisung.” You spoke. Jisung waved back shyly, very soft like. You were very curious about what his sex problem was. “So Jisung is having problems with the idea of dom and sub dynamics. He told me his friend with benefits is tired of having vanilla sex, and he wants to know how he can change that.” Minho said, causing Jisung to look down. The entire explanation is the most sought on explanation for any member you’ve heard of. Jisung is very quiet around you. You’ve seen how he tries to spark a conversation, but nothing there. It makes perfect sense that he would be having trouble with being dominant in bed.

“Yeah, so now, we need to help him.” Minho stated looking at you. “Yeah sure, no problem. Jisung come sit next to me.” You said, motioning him over. Jisung slowly walked to your bed and down next to you. Minho retracted himself from between your thighs and sat on the opposite side of Jisung in your large bed. “I know we don’t talk that much to each other but I need you to trust me that you can talk to me about any sex issues you have okay?” You asked. “Yes, I trust you (Y/n).” Jisung finally spoke, making you smile. “So what’s the problem?” You asked. “Well, I’ve been having sex with this beautiful girl, we have had sex many times, but she says she is tired of having vanilla sex and wants to change up, but I don’t really know anything else apart from the basics.” You sighed before beginning to rub his shoulders. “Jisung, it’s okay, that’s normal, most people don’t have to know the hardcore stuff so early, as long as you know the basics, that’s fine, but first I wanna know are you willing to learn power play because of your friend, or for yourself?” You asked. “Well, at first it was for her, but then I started to think about how it would be if I knew how to be a little different in bed. So now it’s for me.” You smiled at his eager and happy expression as he kindly replied to you. He looked so adorable at times, but you’ve seen this man perform before, you knew that he has a switch inside him that could turn on any second and become the most hottest and dominant thing on the planet. You were up for the challenge and that intrigued you so much.

You inched closer over to Jisung, eyes staring at Minho, signaling that you were ready to start. Minho gave you a nod and a subtle hand gesture to proceed. “So Jisung, when you say you want to learn about dom and sub things, what would you want to be a dom, sub, or switch?” You asked with soft eyes. “What’s the main difference?” He asked confusingly. You smirked before reaching to his sweatpants and began to toy with the string. “It’s very simple, if you like, to control things, you would lean to more dominant like Minho in the corner.” You untied the sweats, and then moved your hand softly over his thigh. “If you like to be taken care of, you lean on the more submissive side.” Your hand slightly grazed over his dick causing him to bite his lip, you moved your hand up inside his white T-shirt and grazed his abs before slowly moving your hand inside his sweats. “And finally, if you like both you would be a switch.” “Fuck!” Jisung moaned when you began to rub his bare cock inside his sweats. “So what will it be… Sungie?” You teased licking the shell of his ear. “Fuck, please just do something!” He moaned. “(Y/n), I’m pretty sure we’re going with sub first.” Minho snickered. He pulled up a chair and sat down observing your efforts to teach Jisung.

“Tell me what you want Sungie, are you gonna be a good boy for me?” You asked with a more playful tone. “Yes, (Y/n), I’ll be good for you, please, can you pull my pants down, I need release!” He whined. You giggled at his little efforts, he was so cute. “Only if you give me the password, then I will take them off.” You replied. “Password, no, I can’t come up with a password, (Y/n), I need you now please, please.” His pleas kept getting whinier, until he finally said the one word that brought you back to his submissive reality. “Please m-mommy.” You looked up at him with a gleam in your eyes, even Minho was shocked that he said that word. To him, Minho knew that Jisung knew more than what he was leading on.

“Aww, you’re such a good boy Sungie!” You kissed his cheek before removing his sweats, allowing his cock to spring up proudly. He has got to have one of the prettiest dicks you have ever seen, decent length and girth with a nice pink tip that is oozing with precum. You took his cock in your hands and began to pump his shaft up and down as he whined for you. “Ngh, mommy please, more.” “You’re so good to mommy huh Sungie?” He nodded harshly. Your thumb rubbed over his tip causing him to buck his hips in anticipation. You moved down towards the bed in the opposite direction and aligned your mouth with his dick before licking his tip, and pushing your mouth finally down his length.

“Mmm, mommy yes.” He whined. “Tell her how she’s making you feel Jisung.” Minho said, finally speaking into existence again. “She feels so good, mommy’s mouth is so good.” You hummed before looking up at him and winking causing him to whimper some more. You slurped as hard as you could knowing he wasn’t going to last long. You began to take more into your mouth, sucking on his dick until he began to buck his hips up into you, and whining so loud, that you could hear it echo throughout the room. “Mommy, mommy please I’m gonna cum, let me cum!” He moaned. You brought your tongue back to his tip, licking it until you could feel heavy spurts of cum landing on your tongue. “Mommy, I’m cumming!” You smiled as you let him finish up his release, allowing him to come down from space and back to reality. You popped your head back up and looked at Minho with a smile, that he also reciprocated, knowing that this session was going well.

“Now Sungie, you’ve been so good for mommy, that she’s gonna let you touch and taste her. Would you like that?” You asked with seductive eyes. “Please mommy please, wanna touch you.” He replied as he sat up immediately causing you to giggle. You removed your top, and left your panties on that were now covered in your wetness from the time you woke up to Minho eating you out, to now. Jisung groaned heavily. Now seeing your naked body in his eyesight. You laid your back up against your headboard, with your chest sitting up on display waiting for Jisung. “Don’t be shy Sungie, come touch me, touch mommy.” You said, causing him to move closer, and reaching his hands out. Jisung started at your shoulders, taking in the soft flesh of your body before he began to move his hands down to your chest before groping your tits and finally taking one into his mouth.

“Oh fuck Jisung!” You whined. His lips locked around your nipple sucking like his life depended on it. “Mm, Jisung loves tits, don’t you?” Minho asks Jisung as he hums against your chest. “It’s okay Jisung, she loves it when you play with them just as much as you do.” You groan at Minho’s words. Jisung continued to play with your chest until he couldn’t wait anymore. The anticipation of tasting you was too much to bear. He kissed down to your pink panties and kissed the top of them before removing them. He looked at you with pleading eyes before you smirked and spread your legs giving him access to your dripping heat. He let out a sigh and a big gulp before laying on his stomach, ready to eat you out, but then, a thought popped into his head. He got up and flipped his body over so he was laid on his back. You looked at him with a questioning face before he spoke. “I want mommy to ride my face.” You looked so shocked, even Minho sat up in his chair. He knew that Jisung needed help, but didn’t know he was that bold. He was really eager to see what was going to take place between the two of you.

“Okay Sungie, I can ride your face. Is that what you want, me to ride your face, think you can do a good job?” You asked, with a hand in his hair. “Yes, I wanna make you feel good.” He whined. You looked at Minho with a soft expression, and then got on top of Jisung’s chest. “Okay then, you naughty boy. Make me feel good.” You shifted over his mouth, and slowly lowered yourself on his mouth.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned. Jisung took off with no hesitation as he began to lick at your clit like a starved man. He satisfied your pussy with ease, and it felt like heaven. “Yes Jisung, just like that, your tongue feels amazing!” You whined. Minho let out a light cough that made you look straight at him. He shot you a glare that made you realize that you were the dom in this situation, but at this point you didn’t care. Jisung was making you feel too good and you would rather have him take care of you at this point, but you know you wouldn’t be on Minho’s good graces at all if you did that.

“Oh Sungie, you make mommy feel so good, where did you learn to do this?” You chuckled, making him smile under you. His soft eyes never left yours as he continued to slurp you up. His tongue prodding at your entrance before inserting it inside you making you moan louder. Jisung began to moan against you as he ate you out even harder. His hands moved up to your breasts playing with your nipples as he moved them around with the pads of his thumbs. “Oh, baby boy, you’re gonna make mommy cum.” You stated. Jisung went back to sucking your clit, and that sent you right over the edge. You released instantly, moaning Jisung’s name, and calling him a good boy. Minho sat back smirking at the lewd display in front of him. He didn’t know if he wanted you to dom Jisung some more, or take over and let both of them have their way with you, but with the obvious boner in his pants straining against them, he doesn’t know if he can hold out for the second opinion any longer.

You got off of Jisung when he finished cleaning you up with his tongue. As he sat up, you kissed his lips, and smiled. “Good, good, boy, you made me feel so good. What am I gonna do with you?” You said, causing Jisung to smile. “Glad I got to make you feel good. How did I do hyung?” Jisung said. Minho looked at the both of you before getting out of the chair and walking towards the bed. His eyes were completely filled with lust as he stared you down. You were ready to fuck Jisung, but now you don’t know if were going to with the way Minho was staring at you.

“You did a good job Jisung, but I think it’s time our little kitten got some more demanding attention, don’t you think? C’mon Jisung, show her the other side of you.” Minho said, and like clockwork, Jisung smirked and then grabbed your hips and flipped you over on your back causing you to gasp and Minho to smirk. “I enjoyed your little act, but I already had a talk with Minho earlier, and he said that you tend to become a slut when you’re very needy. Is that true?” Jisung asked. Your mind and body was still in shock from how fast he switched from sub to dom that you couldn’t even process anything. Jisung slapped your tit making you revert back to reality, the action sending pulse waves to your pussy. “Yes, I become a slut.” You whined. Jisung smirked and looked up at Minho who was still standing in front of the bed. “Tell you what (Y/n), I’ll fuck this pussy first and then let my instructor show me how it’s done when I’m through with you? How does that sound?” Jisung whispered in your ear. “Yes please!” You replied. “Mm, good girl.” Jisung positioned your body to where your body was in the opposite direction of your pillows, your head right underneath Minho’s hard bulge. Jisung placed himself in between your legs and rubbed his tip against your folds making you whimper. “Fuck, such a wet and pretty pussy.” Jisung said making you whimper. “Jisung please fuck me, I can’t take waiting any longer.” You replied. Jisung slapped your thigh. “Take what I’m giving you.” You nodded and without warning he pushed into your throbbing hole making you moan out. Jisung bottomed out causing him to groan. He began to fuck you harder as your body began to adjust to his length.

“Fuck Jisung, it feels so good!” You moaned. His pace was rough and hard as he abused your pussy through and through. “Fuck Angel, you wrap around me so good, I love this pussy, I see what Minho and Chan are talking about.” He said making you roll your eyes back. His hands wrapped tighter around your waist as he pounded into you harder than before. The best part about being in this position was that you were right under Minho’s hard erection. You could read Minho like a book and by the way he was biting his lip at you getting fucked by Jisung you could tell that he was ready to fuck you next. He watched the scene before his eyes, taking in your breasts bouncing at every thrust from Jisung, your pants and moans, and the way his dick kept going back and forth inside you. The truth is that since Chan and him agreed to this idea, he never realized that he wouldn’t get to have his way with you for a while, now that Chan has done his part, it’s finally his time to have you for the next few days.

As you neared your orgasm, you did the unthinkable and moved your hand to Minho’s boner and palmed him through his pants. Minho moaned and threw his head back. Making you smirk. “Kitten, you don’t know what you’re in for, just you wait.” He groaned. The Thought made you think about Minho fucking you for a good moment, but the thought ended when Jisung pulled all the way out of you and thrusted back in hard. “Oh, fuck!” You yelled. “Don’t think of him, I’m the one making you feel good (Y/n)!” Jisung groaned. “I know I’m sorry Jisung! You’re making me feel good.” You whined. Minho then smirked, he never Jisung was the jealous type. A thought popped up into his head that he was really proud of.

“It’s okay Jisung, you’re doing a great job, but you’ll never be able to make her respect you like I would, she’s used to me, not you.” “Wanna bet, by the end of the night, she’s gonna respect me and you. (Y/n), do you wanna be my little slut as well hm?” Jisung asked. “Yes, yes, Jisung, I wanna be your slut fuck, I’m so close.” You replied, nearing your peak. “Yeah, wanna cum? Wanna show Minho how good I can make you feel? Open your mouth baby.” Jisung said. Obeying him, you opened your mouth and Jisung removed his hand off your hip and put his middle and ring finger into your mouth. You began to suck on them as your pussy clenched against him making you whine. “Fuck who knew you loved fingers?” Minho groaned making you whine. Never in a million years would he think that Jisung would’ve done this. Jisung hit your g-spot over and over again, the sweat building up on your bodies, it took a few more thrusts before you were finally sent over the edge.

“Oh god, Jisung!” You moaned, releasing on Jisung’s cock. “Good girl, you’re so good for me, fuck I’m gonna cum.” Jisung moaned, releasing into you. He rode out his high before pulling out of you, and collapsing on the opposite side of you. He looked at your fucked out stance before giving you a long awaited kiss before you felt your head hit the bed, Minho moving from his place to the front of you with his clothes discarded, cock standing at atttention.

“Suck.” Minho said, and you obliged moving to the front to suck on his dick easily. You licked his tip before immediately sucking on his dick already taking him in like a pro. Minho’s moans were enough to get you needy for him again. Already pinching your nipples, and your free hand going towards your opening, Minho took note of this and pulled him off of you causing you to whine.

“Get on your knees (Y/n).” He said sternly. You flipped over and Minho landed a smack to your ass making you moan. “Jisung get in front of her and get your dick sucked again, since you did so well, can’t have her too loud can we?” He asked causing you to nod slightly. With one sigh, Minho pushed into your already wet cunt making you whimper. Jisung’s dick was in front of you ready to be sucked as he stroked it with the most attentive smirk. Your eyes stared him down as you took him in your mouth. Once there, Minho began to thrust hard into you making you groan against Jisung’s cock as he moaned, stroking your hair softly.

“Ugh, Min-Minho, you and Chan have such a good little whore on your hands, willing to bow down to any one that’s willing to give some good dick to her.” Jisung groaned. “Yeah, I know she’s such a little whore, waiting to be fucked, she likes getting pounded until she feels dumb isn’t that right, kitten? Tell Jisung how much you love to get fucked like a whore?” You removed your mouth from Jisung while your hand occupied his cock pumping it up and down. “I love being a whore Jisung, love when there’s a cock in me to fill my leaking pussy up, I love creaming on a good dick Jisung, oh!” You whined, making Minho groan while simultaneously spanking your ass. “Fuck what a good girl.” Minho replied. He pulled your body up by your throat before turning your head and giving you the most intense kiss of the whole night. You continued to pump Jisung in your hands due to the close proximity of it all. With so much happening around you, you knew it wouldn’t take long before your next release of the night.

“Whose pussy is this?” Minho asked. “Y-yours.” You replied. “Whose is it (Y/n)? I didn’t hear you?” “Yours Minho!” “And does this pussy want to cum for me?” “Yes, yes, please!” You whined, begging for your release. “I only want you to do one thing for me… I need you to make Jisung cum first, he’s done so well with everything, he deserves to cum.” Minho let’s your body go before he finally puts you back on Jisung cock sucking like your life depended on it.

“Fuck thank you hyung, her mouth is perfect I’m so close!” Jisung moaned, making you whimper in his mouth. You sucked him like the worlds best lollipop ever and was eager for him to cum. Minho began to play dirty by using one of his hands to rub your clit causing your body to jolt. With your whines and whimpers on Jisung’s cock, he came within no time, hot cum shooting down your throat once again was a highlight within itself, especially when you Jisung’s orgasm face as well. “Ugh, your mouth is something serious (Y/n).” Jisung said, but your brain was focused on releasing to not even concentrate. “Good work kitten, now I need you to cum.” Minho said, and you finally got to release.

“Fuck!” You moaned as you came on Minho’s dick, your pussy clenching as you came, your body shaking at the intense feeling. Minho’s groans were picking up as well before he finally released inside you, shooting his cum in you at ease. “Fuck (Y/n)!” Minho moaned. He pulled your ass cheeks apart looking at the creamy mess between your legs, your pussy gaping open from the abuse the two boys gave you from their dicks. Once Minho pulled out, your body basically fell against the bed, but Jisung helped you to your pillows and placed you down next to him. Minho climbed up to the side of you as well, now trapped between both boys. Minho softly kissed your shoulder as well as Jisung on your other shoulder.

“You did a great job, (Y/n), you were so good for the both of us, and thank you Minho hyung, you helped me learn a lot more in the art of sex.” Jisung. “I’m glad I did, and now we can rest, especially her, because I need her healthy for the next lesson.” Minho replied. You turned to Minho with a questioned face. “Who’s it gonna be for the next lesson?” You asked. “He promised me to be quiet, but let’s just say, I need you to be able to bend like a pretzel kitten…”

Tag list: @19yearsmemories @hhjkji @fairygirl18

@vicious-defect @she-wintersoldat @tita004

@darkdayelixer @theonethatlikeskpop @nerdlife143

@freyaniobe

Finally Part 4 is completed, stay tuned for part 5

I really appreciate you All ❤️

❤️

Love you guys!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Finally, part 4 is completed! I wanna thank everyone for their patience and am so happy that this mini series is flourishing, thank you all, I love you guys so much! 💗💗💗💗💗

Taglist:

[coccinelle-et-chaton]

Thoughts on NATLA so far (up to ep 5)

I'm really loving it!!! There are some parts where the pacing gets a bit slow but it makes up by hitting you out of left field with the feels.

Episode 4 is my favorite so far.

I absolutely LOVED this rendition of Sukka. What bisexual disasters, the pair of them.

ON THE FIRE NATION:

I absolutely LOVE the background story on the fire nation family, particularly the bond between zuko and iroh. It is presented completely different than in the OG, since the 'show don’t tell' of the original happens in Book 2 and here they use flashbacks, but it works. Still ended with me in waterworks. Also, I understand the logic behind showing all of the cards from the very get-go being that Netflix can cancel the show before it is renewed for another season, so it needed to make the best impression possible, show all the stakes but not reveal them in ther completion. I think they did that very well so far.

ZUKO IS SO AWKWARD I LOVE HIM

his expressions and reactions are just peak comedy. He is the embodiment of "😫😟" and I love that for him.

Dallas' performance is definitely one of my highlights.

ON KATARA AND SOKKA:

The thing that is the most foreign to me so far is the decision to improve Sokka's emotional stakes at the expense of Katara's. I like it but this has to be the element where the adaptation departs the most from the og. Like, in the cartoon it is Katara who bears the brunt of the responsibility taking care of the water tribe and her brother, which is why Sokka's sexism as a character flaw worked there. I can see now why they chose to drop that. With the script flipped like this, with Sokka being the main caretaker and provider between him and Katara, making him stay sexist would've been a bit too much. It is very different, but I like how they flipped the script between them.

What I did not like about this flip is that the change seems to affect Katara's character for the worse. She is not as outspoken or short-tempered as she was in the cartoon. It's almost the complete opposite. But I can definitely see the shyness and insecurity being the deliberate starting point of her arc. Now in ep 5, you can see her becoming more confident both in personality and bending. I think this was a conscious decision, but I still wish she had been written to be more headstrong from the very beginning.

That being said, I really appreciate how different the dynamic between Sokka and Katara is. I love how Katara is trying to get her independence while Sokka is still caught on the fact he has to be her protector, almost parent figure, which is a cool change of pace. One of the things that kinda bothered me as a young girl watching Avatar was that Katara was always stuck being the mom and sort of getting teased for it despite the fact no one else could or wanted to step up to that responsibility. It's cool to see Sokka bearing that responsibility as the eldest in the adaptation.

ON THE BLATANTLY MISSING KATAANG

You know, I don't hate this change. Aang and Katara's interactions are still pretty wholesome, and once they start catching feelings for each other, it will be super cute because you see where the love is truly coming from. It's not just Aang's childhood crush/Katara's "destiny", as it was presented it the cartoon. Besides it would have looked a little weird, considering that the age gap between Gordon and Kiawentiio is way more obvious on screen than it is right now when you see the interviews with the cast, because that kid Gordon is growing up SO fast.

OVERALL:

I am enjoying it very much! The adaptation is excellent. Despite some changes being quite big, they managed to capture most of the show's essence. I do believe it could have benefitted from a bit more balance between the comedy and the seriousness, particularly when it comes to Aang because he is mostly just weighted down by his responsibility in the adaptation, I don't see him joke as much, but in general and all limitations considered, I think they did an excellent job! It won't be for everyone, for sure, but I can say it has managed to bring back that feeling of watching the show for the first time again on some parts :)

[lokisasylum]

A beautifully written article!

[I managed to translate a bit of it]

Crazy and ecstatic

In the formula of popular music, completing good music and performance is only half the success. What fills the other half is the artist’s capabilities. Stars have the power to make audiences dream. So their stage has a dreamlike sparkle and excitement. However, the icons of popular music who transcend borders and command the times have one additional ability. They make you want to. His first solo album FACE, created with Jimin's breath and heat, answers the question of how much fans want him. Like crazy. David Bowie once quoted Nietzsche's concept of 'God is dead' and asked, "If we cannot replace God, how will we fill the space he has created within us?" Jimin fills the empty space in his soul that only the highest value of sanctity can take over with his crazy feelings for him.

Jimin is ecstatic. Ecstasy is paradoxical. He simultaneously embraces despair as much as joy, danger as heavy as an anchor, and fire in ice. [FACE] expresses the paradox that only an ecstatic and upright being can show. The title , which topped the Billboard Hot 100 chart upon its debut, depicts Jimin's solitude amidst cheers and the direct gaze of floating through Jimin's alluring vocals and elegant moves, making you feel him with all your senses and gaze. The double title depicts Jimin's narrative of freeing himself from transparent chaos and oppression through primitive gestures. Jimin's dance, which has the softness and agility of a feather and the powerful vibration and intensity of a storm, causes catharsis and allows us to be swept away by his extremely personal truth. [FACE] amplifies the paradox of ecstasy through the dimension of Jimin and brings it into the inner self of the audience. It is no exaggeration to say that that sweet and hot experience is a joy that only Jimin can provide.

In his book , which created the 'Stendhal Syndrome', which refers to the shock and excitement felt when viewing an outstanding work of art, Stendhal defined it as "the degree of ecstasy is the only measure of beauty in music." [FACE] is as ecstatic as Jimin. This is why we can discover a high level of aesthetics in [FACE], an album that Jimin created with his breath and soul, and in which Jimin reborn himself.

Crazy fantastic

In [FACE], Jimin becomes the moon. The plot of the moon tattooed on his body, the presence of Jimin, who has a coldly shining gaze on stage, a mythical dynamism, and a subtle and mysterious aura that dispels the darkness, are represented by the moon and expanded into the entire world view of the album. The sacred fate of the waxing and waning of the moon has been the inspiration for numerous works of art throughout history. [FACE] creates a new grammar of K-pop by organically shaping the ecstasy, chaos, and vitality created by the moon with Jimin's music, dance, language, and images. Jimin elegantly grasps and holds these huge chunks of metaphysics with the power of existence, and at the same time overturns them with a sincerity that cannot be approached through interpretation.

The most dominant symbol of the moon in [FACE] is vitality. No matter how dark the moon goes through, it rises brightly again. This album sequentially deals with Jimin's journey to face and find freedom by confessing the betrayal, anger, wandering, and emptiness he experienced during the night of the pandemic. It starts with , where you look back with an angry face at the reality you want to escape from, , where you suddenly wake up from a dream to a loud knock on the door and face the present, and , where you walk alone in a room with the lights off. After passing the lonely peak of 'Set Me Free Pt.2', the last track, he declares to himself "Finally free". Through [FACE], Jimin learns how to coexist with the night and is reborn in a new light as a solo artist with his own narrative and sensitivity.

This narrative of recovery and regeneration is again visualized as waves originating from the moon, adding a layer to [FACE] as an artistic text. The concept trailer that announced the birth of the album is the basis of [FACE]'s visual worldview and depicts the passion of water created by the moon's gravity. This wave, created by light and darkness, above and below, water droplets and the sea, facing each other and reversing, spreads to all visible places, including [FACE]'s music video, artwork, and styling, condensing and resonating the lunar world view. The music video for the title literary depicts the highs and lows of Jimin's anxiety and isolation as he struggles in the waters of drunkenness and emptiness by comparing it to the dynamics of the tide. And with this rhetoric, we are submerged in the sorrowful joy of . The music video for focuses on the shape of the moon. On the stage of a circular prison, the poem from Rilke's “The Widening Circle” is engraved on the body and the bondage of life is expressed.

[FACE]’s moon world view is excellent and clever. It overwhelmingly satisfies the demands of ‘What should we tell?’ and ‘What should we show?’ that are particularly harsh to K-pop artists, and presents a new philosophy of popular art. As you explore the world of [FACE], which has been elaborately built with new imagination and grammar, you will fall into a daydream as if you are previewing Jimin dancing and singing dreamily under a pale light as bright as moonlight at a solo concert he will one day hold. The sense of synesthetic unity provided by this worldview that extends and is complete from Jimin also extends to the driving force and possibility of Jimin's success as he takes his first steps as a soloist. [FACE] The musical foundation Jimin has laid with just one album is so broad and strong.

Crazy violent

Jimin is a person who smiles at moments when he needs to grit his teeth and creates a rhythm at the breaking point. Jimin's beautiful and intense sense of rhythm, which simultaneously pierces and surpasses the anchor, and even leisurely looks back, bends even the universe to flow through his stage.

[FACE] was created with the impetus of that rhythm. [FACE] is an unexpected album. Even Jimin himself thought that he would be promoting conceptual music like an idol. Jimin in BTS music, who embodies his charm, lyricism, and performance ability in the best image, is powerful and brilliant. Even if he had released a solo album to follow up that appearance, the outcome of his predestined success would not have changed. However, Jimin quit street dancing and started modern dance, starting again from square one like in the past when he chose to become an idol trainee again. Among Jimin's many talents, his ability to judge when it is time to start over and push forward is the most crucial. He believes in himself that he will eventually do it.

[FACE] is bold like Jimin. At a time when the world, and perhaps even Jimin himself, were most urging him to show something right away ahead of his enlistment, he produced an album using a self-producing method that required a long time and pains. It would not have been easy for an idol loved by everyone to express through music the futility of a drunken night and the distress of human relationships. However, Jimin recorded the process in a documentary and even included a lyric note as an appendix, which included words that would make fans' hearts ache, such as "Even if you stab me." Jimin, who has always shown himself to be optimistic and cautious, must have had a lot of thoughts and concerns before making this decision. Nevertheless, the reason Jimin made this choice was probably because he had to.

Jimin created the album in-house for 10 months, writing lyrics while facing head on the ego he wanted to liberate through music, counting countless nights and dawns, and composing the melody with every note and breath. I tried to find the essence of Jimin's music by re-recording it countless times. Because they faced and jumped into the process so fiercely, there is no core in [FACE], even though it talks about sharp emotions that cannot be refined. Jimin's calm and elegant vocals as he sings the song convey the calm and contemplation unique to a creation that has been rethought and reworked countless times.

This album does not only contain the fierceness and sincerity of facing internal wounds. The title , created by adding sweet imagination to Jimin's sensitivity and narrative, may be the most honest song in [FACE]. This song, which is dizzyingly intertwined with Jee Man's deep and elastic vocals that pull at the depths of your heart and a climactic groove that makes you unable to take your eyes off, is a very bold display of Jimin's special charm, which has been expressed passively as 'knowing something'. Implement. The reason why that temptation is so powerful is because music and performance mix and explode violently within Jimin's mood. Because he started his career in music through dance, for Jimin, performance is not an afterthought to music, but a companion to it. Because Jimin created the title, wrote the melody and lyrics, and suggested the choreography, is filled with Jimin's own aesthetic rhyme from the origin to the lingering sound. ​​​​ is a song that only Jimin can express accurately. There aren't many artists who have songs that only they can complete.

Jimin was reborn as a solo artist with a new history and dreams as his story and inspiration matured and his album was created. He must have spent time working with thoughtful producers who understood what it was like to be Jimin, as if embracing each other, and realizing anew how joyful and great music is. So Jimin says that even if he could turn back time, he would work on the album the same way. Creation is painful, but only through that pain can an artist gain life. Being harsh on oneself is an artist's instinct and destiny. And Jimin has always faced that fate.

​​​There is this phrase in Rilke’s poem “The Widening Circle,” which Jimin tattoos on his body in the music video for . “I live in a wide circle / The circle is getting wider and wider in the world / I probably won’t complete the last circle / But I give my whole being to the cause.” [FACE] is a song about Jimin giving his whole being. It is a ‘wide circle’ created. As if there were no limits to moonlight, the beautiful and true wave of circles created by Jimin will spread wider and farther.

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Round 4

Casca

She is part of a weird fucked up love triangle with two dudes. All three of them are honestly kind of terrible for each other but she gets shoved aside in favor of the two dudes in most fics and is not allowed to grow past the toxic relationships of her past. Also she’s a cis woman who dresses pretty masculinely (because she’s in a mercenary band) so she gets type casted as the mean lesbian friend, when she’s straight in canon

I've seen more than one Yaoi Shipper say that Casca should have died during this one big canon event as opposed to being assaulted by one of the people in the Yaoi Ship, which of course conveniently would remove her from the narrative and as an obstacle to said Yaoi Ship. Aside from that specifically, though, I think it's particularly cruel to imply that being killed is a better outcome than being a victim of SA, and is an example of the contempt fandom on the whole has for female characters who act traumatized - particularly when both male characters in the ship have similar trauma and its never implied they should have died rather than be assaulted.

She's an incredibly interesting character in her own right with really good dynamics and parallels to Griffith and Guts, and the way those three play off of each other is integral to the story, but most of what I've seen completely ignores her in favor of focusing on only Griffith and Guts

Elizabeth Midford

She started as just a cutie fiancée trying her best, turns out she's also a swordfighting genius, very under pressure to perform feminity in the Victorian Rose type of way. Fandom crucifies her bc she's Ciel's fiancée and they want him to be with his butler, Sebastian, the demon he sold his soul to for revenge

anime was a shitty canon divergent adaptation that butchered her character down to her "cutesy silly girly" persona, which obviously made the 2008 anime fans hate her with a passion (nothing wrong w being girly I'm just saying the adaptation made her super one dimensional) anyways fujoshis used to treat her as a villain because she's the fiance of Ciel,, who as u might know already was HEAVILY shipped with his butler, Sebastian back then (now it's kinda looked badly upon, nice tbh that ship sucks ass xD) She's a bit similar to Misa Amane from death note in the way she was treated. (Like an obstacle the yaoi ship must overcome rather than a person)

she's my silly little rabbit! i could gush about her character but i'll keep it short and just say that she's really well written and one of the best characters in the series. anyways she's ciel's fiance and she's like, rightfully annoying as any other 13 yr old girl would be but the fanbase fucking crucified her for even existing. she gets demonized for being 'annoying', but then ciel gets yaoishipped with an even more annoying guy. there is 100% an argument that lizzie/ciel is weird bc they're cousins (i personally don't ship it) but that falls flat when her detractors then ship the 13 yr old ciel with an eons old demon who Canonically looks like his father. the anime also never reached her main character development until years after its peak and that was only in a movie, so she really got the bad end of the stick here. not me though i had a giant crush on her when i was 12

[deus-ex-mona]

Heyooo so like do you think you could explain the Someya brothers relationship? It’s peaked my interest since the new songs with these two revolve around each other…

Yujiro and Koichirou aren’t related by blood, right? 🤔

Also, what do you think about the new songs that just came out?

Thank you so much for your time 💛💛 Happy New Years 💕

hi! happy new year~~!

this got kinda long so there’s a cut here for length sorry~~~

ngl i’m kindaaaaa fuzzy on the details about the someya bros’ relationship, but long story short, they’re stepbrothers (with koichiro spawning from the resident longleg tamagoro and yujiro being tae’s son, of course) who were kinda pitted against each other when it came to learning how to perform (kabuki) from tamagoro, because longleg’s gotta longleg ig.

then yujiro gets disinherited because the longleg’s still longlegging and koichiro takes to the kabuki stage by himself as the local “national treasure’s” sole heir. so, like, i’m guessing that the events surrounding yujiro’s disinherition may have led to their (frankly terrible) brotherly relationship of “an inferior older brother” and “a superior younger brother”?

though this dynamic carried on pretty much for as long as yujiro longed to perform on a kabuki stage, just like koichiro does (if we were to take the lxl movie’s word for it). then yujiro became an idol and started to work towards a different dream, breaking off from the path (kabuki) that he used to follow koichiro down, which i guess made koichiro start to see yujiro in a different light?

like, imagine you have a lifelong rival who strives for the same goals that you do. however, this rival of yours is less skilled than you, so you naturally grow to have a sense of superiority over your rival, taking satisfaction in crushing them while having full knowledge that they will never be able to beat you when it comes to your shared goals.

however, one day, your rival decides to aim for a different goal, completely ditching your shared goal and stuff, and they actually seem to be doing pretty well in their path to achieve their new goal. how would you feel?

because i get the feeling that koichiro’s initial response to that was to feel betrayed, in a “why are you running away (from kabuki)?” sense.

though, over time, koichiro seems to have gradually come to terms with yujiro’s idol activities, and their relationship naturally (albeit slowly) improved as the days passed, with them going on walks together and bickering with each other like brothers would. which, y’know, is cool of him in a way. he’s learning. he’s still kind of a brat, but he’s growing despite his past mistakes.

as for yujiro, well, he seems to have been looking out for koichiro in his own way from the very beginning? like, man chose not to go against koichiro’s mistreatment, opting to just lower his head and accept it instead.

was it an act of self-sacrifice to protect koichiro’s ego or something? heck, even in the lxl movie, he just took everything koichiro dished at him, and only fought back when koichiro dared to mock his bf aizo. which is. pretty unhealthy, yujiro bro. just tell him you have a proper brotherly love for him for goodness sake. your communication skills s u c k.

um. anyway.

tl;dr: stepbros made to learn kabuki because of their father. older bro gets disinherited, younger bro gets an attitude and mistreats older bro. this continues until older bro becomes an idol and begins to walk his own path. younger bro feels betrayed/annoyed at his older bro for “giving up” on kabuki. younger bro does eventually accept the fact that they have different dreams and supports older bro. seems like older bro has always been looking out for younger bro though, even though he doesn’t say it.

thoughhhhhh seriously, i’m not a someya expert or anything, i just like making fun of the longleg, so… if someone with a degree in someyaology could chime in, it’d be greatly appreciated~~~

as for the new songs, nagisa’s new song is the best of them all, no question. thanks for coming to my ted talk—

[iwanthermidnightz]

Gracie Abrams is, as the kids say, the moment. Since releasing her first EP—“It's not been very long, but it feels like a million years”—the singer-songwriter has graduated to opening for Taylor Swift on her Eras Tour. Now enjoying the success of her debut album, Good Riddance, Abrams will be touring again with stops in Europe this fall—all before she turns 24.

Her third grade teacher had the class keep “tiny palm-size journals. It wasn't a grand plan to get us into storytelling, but it did feel very serious to me. I was immediately drawn to this private place where you could talk about anything. I lost the journal and it was my first real heartbreak.”

“It’s not to paint my parents in a negative light. I mean, they're the fucking best of all time,” says the middle child of director, writer, and producer J.J. Abrams and Bad Robot's Katie McGrath. “But my strict curfew was not because I was like, ‘There's this concert I'm really passionate about, please, please, please, let me go.’ It was like, ‘There's this boy that I've heard of once who's having a party,’ and they're like, ‘Cool. You're not going.’ I was more observing the clichés of LA than participating in them.”

She credits Joni Mitchell, Carole King, and Phoebe Bridgers—whom she discovered at age 12 on YouTube—as “these formative flags, waving a little bit, that changed my life.”

Attending an all-girls high school and an all-women college, Barnard, helped Abrams find her voice. “I've personally found that you're removing a factor that is so real when you grow up as a girl—these social dynamics where there's a certain sexism.” In school, “I felt zero fear or hesitation to raise my hand every single time I had a thought about anything.”

Abrams watches Swift's show every night she opens for her, getting a master class in how to “maintain intimacy as you grow and step away from 200-cap venues. She does 80,000 people three times a weekend, and regardless of where you are in the stadium—because I've walked around and looked at different views—it feels like just you and her. And she's the biggest star in the world.”

She’s an avowed Swiftie herself. “Every formative memory in my life is paired with a Taylor Swift song that helped me get through. My boyfriend the other day did the thing where we shuffled her discography and played a song for one second…I got them all.”

She first heard from Swift via a call from an unknown number inviting Abrams to the superstar's birthday. Abrams checked it out by calling a mutual producer: “Can you confirm something for me, or is there someone just trying to break my heart?”

Ahead of her first concert performance ever, “I was vomiting because I was so scared. My anxiety had just kind of reached this peak; I was like, ‘I can't do this. I don't want to do this. This isn't for me. I like to write by myself. I don't want to be around other people. This is private.’ And the second I got onstage, I was just so happy. I was so proven wrong. I felt so immediately like the songs that I was singing onstage were no longer about me, but it was about all of the people that were in the room that night. And that's kind of carried on every time I've been lucky enough to play a show since then.”

[witchthewriter]

𝑼𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒑𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒆  

Personalised story for @leniabranch. Pairing: Otto Hightower x Reader (Lenia) Word count: 1201  

 Otto Hightower thought he was too old for love. Any romance had died along with his wife. He had no desire to find a wife, and his attention was firmly on the King of Westeros.

      Even so, Otto still felt an ache inside his chest.  

                                                   ✶

Golden sunlight filtered through the curtains, filling you with warmth. You knew you should get up, but the feeling of cosiness was at its peak. The blanket was handmade by your grandmother, the matriarch of the family, and there was nothing more comforting to you. Well, except dancing.

Asleep beside you, your youngest sister, Elrie, shifted, her young face scrunching as she reacted to her dream. Elrie reminded you of yourself in many ways. But most notably, her wildness. It took many mothers to tame her wild hair; the knots, the squirming, the protests.

 “What are you smiling about?” Sanah, the secondborn of the family, asked as she shuffled in. Sleep still in the corners of her eyes.

       “Nothing, how did you sleep?”  Many people think that you and Sanah should have some sort of rivalry. The dynamics between the the firstborn girl and the second seem to differ from normal siblinghood. And yet the semblance of any tension would be between you and your brother.  As the only boy of the family, Darick, wasn’t much of a fighter. His talents, like all Branch members, lie within the realms of imagination. You can always find Darick either in his room, charcoal covering his hands, or outside staring at people. And yes, people do find that quite … unusual. But Darick looks upon people to memorise the way the light hits their features; the way their movements can be captured.

As Darick’s skill is drawing, Sanah’s is seamestry and Elrie’s is singing. And so with your talent, your parents hired the best teacher they could. They couldn’t deny that they got their money’s worth. You had quickly become well-known for the way you moved. It was odd if your audience didn’t leave with a tear in their eye and goosebump’s on their skin.

The descendants of your family knew that they weren’t warriors. They were not made to be knights, guards, or soldiers.

   They had ideas, imagination, creativity.

One may think your family had a heritage that formed over many years. That they originated from the Andals, or Valyerians. But no, they were common people, with an idea.

  To Create.

         To Perform.

                    To Express.

They had climbed the social ladder through entertainment. And now, some say your family were made of magic itself.

    You had made your way down to the courtyard, one of your favourite places to visit. The spring sun shone warm in the sky, making a golden haze settle over the land. Wherever you looked, you could see something blooming. Whether it was trees, flowers, or lovers parttaking in their courtship.

  King’s Landing felt so different to your home. Here everything had to be proper; if you left your chambers you must be fully dressed, always wear shoes and curtsy to everyone. The land of your family, Tree Cove, was full of running children – playing tag, instruments being practiced and laughter from all directions. Everyone had a sense of mischief and playfulness. It was embedded in each Branches blood.

  And so, as you had grown, changes started to happen.

You had found your favourite willow tree. It wasn’t too far from the castle, but far away that you felt as if you could be back home.

As you climbed the fourth branch of the willow tree, you realised your wildness was not one of those changes. Hot-blood still ran through your veins; almost as if adventure was molded into your very being.

   You continued to climb, one foot above another, hands reaching higher and higher. The sky was an incredible blue above you, and you swore you could spot one of the Targaryens’ dragons weaving behind the clouds. Was it Caraxes? Or maybe Syrax? You couldn’t tell. They were so far away. Up in the clouds, almost like they were in a different world.

And then it happened so quickly, one moment you were fine, staring at the sky, and suddenly you heard a crunch.

  Panic seized you. Your body reacted before your brain, and you reached out, but it was too late.          

                You fell.

 Maybe everything happens for a reason, or maybe there are just coincidences. But whatever the explanation was, you were happy it happened.

Large, warm arms were firmly encasing you. You let out a sigh of relief.

  Otto held onto you tightly. You were so close to the Hand of the King that you could smell him. Otto’s musky scent was a mix bergamot, frankincense and … books? From days spent taking in as much information from the maester’s collection.

  It took you a few moments, but your brain started to catch up with what had just happened.

‘Oh gods! I fell’, you thought, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. ‘And I was caught by … the Hand of the King…’

    In that moment you reached into your pocket (your sister always sewed pockets into every gown) and felt the round fruit.

   ‘She who dares, wins’. The thought appeared quickly, then melted away as your attention fell back to Otto.

        “Th-thank you,” you whispered.

 “You are very welcome, Lady Branch,” Your bare feet gently touched the ground as Otto put you down. He glided his hands up your arms, to steady you. And as soon as he let go, a yearn began to grow. You looked up at the King’s Hand, and realised just how tall he was.

              “Please, call me Lenia, Lady Branch is my mother.”

 Otto felt in then. A tingling in his hands, and the type of heat that starts off cold, spreading from his neck to the other parts of his lean body.

You gazed into his blue eyes, and he gazed right back. You blushed.

 “May I ask, what exactly were you doing in that tree?” His deep voice easered your hammering heart.

  “Oh, I was getting this-“ You pulled the apple from your dress and pressed it into his hands. Otto tried to hold his surprise but with no luck. He held the apple up to inspect it, and it glinted in the sunligt.

       “Well thank you, Lenia.”

                 A shiver went down your spine.

   You didn’t leave Otto’s mind for days. Through all the meetings, you were at the forefront; your smile and shining hair appearing in his mind, almost as if you were right in front of him. There were moments when he tried to right himself – ‘pull yourself together man,’ he would think often. But the emotion he felt … it was growing by the hour.

 It wasn’t until the fourth day, at the meeting with the Small Council, that Otto had brought you up.

“Speaking of celebrations, I was thinking of the entertainment.” Eyes shot to him. They went wide, Otto had never cared much about such matters. Even inviting the Branches to court, it was all Lord Strong’s idea.

      “And what do you have in mind?” King Viserys asked, an eyebrow cocked.

“I think the Branches should perform.”

To Be Continued…

[ilprinciperosso]

So, if you don’t live in Italy you probably have ever been exposed to the old conservative part of it… which, disgracefully exist in journalism too.

Using Charles’ losses in his life, comparing his loneliness to Carlos, that instead has his father figure next to him, to highlight how he must be broken is peak trash journalism. It’s using someone’s pain to get likes. (Terruzzi I’m looking at you).

Charles’ accident (that was deemed a racing accident by everyone) must be a sign of weakness, of crumbling under pressure of unbearable suffering… it’s just a fucking racing incident! Stop psychoanalysing him

Carlos’ accident (that he was penalised for… the penalty was harsh because of the circumstances that it happened in, but it was fair. He made a mistake and took another driver out) is because he was fighting for a podium, his radio message is an admirable show of human emotion and his petty reaction when interviewed (is the same excuse I use when I want to get out of doing something "I’m not gonna talk cause I wouldn’t be polite") is a show of strong character.

I guess the journalists that are now criticising Charles haven’t been watching f1 for long and neither have they watched the last 3 races. In Bahrain he was doing an exceptional job and he had a dnf (not his fault). In Jeddah he was amazing in quali, but then had limited pace during the race (we’ll never know what he could have done starting 2nd). In Australia he had a shit quali (I’ve already talked about it, but basically Ferrari was Ferraring again) and he got caught in a racing incident on the first lap (could he have been more patient? Sure. Was it a driving mistake? Nope. Was he fucking unlucky? Yep, as usual)

I don’t know why we are going through a journalistic shitstorm again (the same way it happened with all the previous drivers in Ferrari), when the only focus should be on the car. Drivers will make mistakes, they’re human, but they’ll for sure perform better if they don’t have to fight against a mediocre excuse of a car.

I don’t know what’s in the "driver macho figure" that is so loved by Italian journalists… I don’t get why a driver needs to be rude or get angry to be respected… I don’t know why having your father as your manager should be seen as a merit, especially when the same father has been known to try and meddle with the dynamics within the team…

I’m gonna stick with the driver I support… who is always kind and polite, who will blame himself first instead of finding hundreds of different excuses, who (for the ones forgetting about it) has stuck with Ferrari in some of the worst years (performance wise) and has always been amazing. Please, use your brain before saying Charles is washed up a Carlos is our only hope. Right now in Ferrari we don’t need any kind of political shitstorm, we don’t even need a first driver! We need people to work on the car and to let drivers drive.

[workingforitallthetime]

drawn arrows unseen

part 20 / previous installments/tags

Mason assumes he’ll go into rut, just like when he last spent any amount of time basking in Connor’s scent. He’s braced for it to be about a million times worse, too, now that he knows what Connor smells like wanting him.

Instead, everything just… shuts down.

Mason passes through the days numb, going through the motions of practice and gameday routines, forcing himself to heat up the little plastic boxes of his meal plan on their prescribed schedule. He doubts he could get it up to jerk off, if the idea even sounded appealing, which it doesn’t. It’s like his body’s protecting itself, cutting off every nonessential function so it can do what it has to do to keep his heart beating and his lungs breathing.

And, unfortunately, elite hockey appears to be nonessential. His reaction time slows. He gets winded after every shift. He misses obvious plays. The coaches show him his advanced stats, processed into easily digestible bar graphs and line charts. The lines all plunge downhill after the Arizona game.

The medical staff runs all kinds of tests, scans and blood panels and stress tests. Nothing’s wrong. He just sucks.

They finally send him to UC-Irvine to see a dynamic specialist. She has thin braids neatly coiled at the base of her neck and a button nose that barely shows she’s assessing Mason’s scent. The trainer who drove him to the appointment waits in the lobby while the doctor shows Mason back to her office, which looks more like a professor works there than a doctor.

She asks him all the usual dynamic questions, raising her eyebrows a little when Mason counts backward and tells her it’s been close to two years since he went through a rut. She asks him about whether there was anything that precipitated his current condition, and Mason lies. No, nothing that I can think of. Got back from a road trip and everything fell off a cliff.

 It hurts to talk about. It can’t be fixed. He doesn’t want his medical records, wide open to his team and to the NHLPA and to any team that ever acquires him, to say Connor Bedard.

The doctor asks him the same questions several different ways, like she knows perfectly well Mason’s lying. When Mason doesn’t crack, she pauses. She presses her lips together. “It’s strange that you can’t recall a precipitating event. Your symptoms are consistent with a faulty bond.”

“A faulty bond?” Mason tests the phrase in his mouth, It makes it sound like he and Connor are a medical condition. A deformity.

“It can happen if you bond with someone but things aren’t… in order,” the doctor says delicately.

Mason’s barely seen Connor in years. He’s barely even kissed him. It doesn’t make any sense that they’ve bonded, but the phrase feels right. “How does that even work?”.

“The research in this area isn’t where we’d like it to be, ethical issues and all that.” The doctor puts down her notepad, clearly warming up to a preferred topic. “But it suggests that when you have a bond with someone, both partners benefit from your shared energy. It’s a crude analogy, but you can think of the bond as like a pipeline. When the bond’s frayed, the pipe leaks. Water gets diverted through holes. Energy’s wasted. You expend more energy than you’re gaining, so you’re not at peak capacity in other areas of performance.”

“What’s the treatment?” Please, god, let there be a cure, some way to stop hurting.

The doctor quirks her mouth ruefully. “It’s like any other pulled muscle. Just takes time to heal. Unless you’re able to straighten out the bond?”

“Get things in order,” Mason says, echoing her earlier phrase. “With my…”

The doctor nods. “With your partner.”

Mason looks up Connor’s stats. It’s hard to tell from what’s available publicly, and he’s absolutely not going to ask Anaheim’s data team how Connor’s performance over the last month compares to what he was doing before the Arizona game. But Connor definitely hasn’t been lighting it up. Maybe he’s feeling the effects on his end too.

Mason tries to call him to talk it over. But when he gets Connor’s voicemail, it sounds so presumptuous to say it. We’re bonded. We have to fix it. What right does Mason have?

“Everything’s so hard,” Mason finally blurts out after a long silence. Connor probably won’t listen to the end of the voice message anyway. “This could be easy. Please, just let it be easy.”

He doesn’t hear anything back.

(next)

[skwigelfskwisgaar]

((I sent similar asks to other blogs and I don’t wanna make the rest of y’all feel excluded esp since it looks like half y’alls muses are losing their shit so… got any mental health HCs for your muse??))

I think this was kinda a mental health and background in general, I hope it helps!

More under the cut:

Perfectionist

● Skwisgaar is first and foremost a perfectionist in all he does. His need to be the best has him constantly playing scales, arpeggios, simple drills - and it's often more a tick of his to use his guitar the way Toki uses Deaddy Bear or Pickles uses drugs. It calms him to have his instrument with him in case he needs to play it to ignore his mom or whatever else annoys him. Very, very rarely does he leave it behind. He has a simple skincare routine, hair care routine, and makes sure he looks presentable as much as possible. Everything about him needs to be perfect, from appearance to performance. His need to perform at 100% at all times has given rise to other problems, primarily stress induced headaches, burnout, and a need to berate Toki and William when they fail to meet his standards.

Anxiety

● Skwisgaar being in the limelight and the need to perform in all areas of his life to the upmost perfect capability had led him to develop anxiety. Will he fail at staying the best? Will the fans turn on him? Will Toki become better than him? Does anyone else care enough to craft music? Will his mom call him again and berate him for ignoring her? It drives him nuts that no one else is striving for his level of perfection and sometimes he lashes out for the smallest inconveniences, having been stewing in thoughts for much longer leading up to it. Oddly enough Skwisgaar tends to know when he's worked up into an anxiety attack and tends to shut himself off when it gets to that point.

Dysfunctional Relationships

● It goes without saying Skwisgaar had a pretty absent mother and has a warped sense of what family, friendships, and relationships are. I think Serveta truly loved him, but since she herself was at the peak of her own life and career, she often used him as an excuse as to why she constantly had to try harder and harder to find willing men, housing, work, ect. Due to this, Skwisgaar has a very rocky maybe even stressful relationship with Serveta Skwigelf, and the very thought of seeing her sends him into a frenzy. Seeing how she and him moved around quite a bit for her work before she settled down into the cabin she lives now, Skwisgaar's only real lasting bond has been a dysfunctional one at best and has a hard time knowing how dynamics between people, friends, and even partners really work.

Hypersexual

● Due to exposure to Serveta's very 'active' lifestyle, Skwisgaar has a very active lifestyle too. For many, sex is a way to bond with someone that they truly care about whereas for Skwisgaar, it's just another activity in which he must perform to his fullest, with any interested parties. Primarily concerning to some is his adoration of the older women, which could be seen as him seeking approval from a mother-like figure since his own mother often blamed him for her failures. He jumps from person to person, even band to band, before becoming a member of Dethklok and finally establishing roots and forming some shaky friendships with the other members. His inability to understand how relationships work on a basic level has warped how he views potential partners.

History of Addictions

● Whereas Toki took over as lead guitarist and even seemed to thrive in the role when our neurotic blonde left for Sweden, Skwisgaar became a wreck when Toki vanished and started using drugs like the rest of the band to cope. Skwisgaar had vices, and when he indulged, he went hard into those addictions. Thankfully he finally feels like there's a support system in case he spirals out of control, but with the band spiraling out of control in general during that time and the fans finally turning on them asking about Toki, I believe he pulled himself out of it with help and managed to kick some of his vices to the curb for good. It's not the first time he's been told his vice is affecting his performance or that he is spiraling, and he knows deep down it probably won't be the last.

Abandonment Issues

● Skwisgaar's biggest defining trait when it comes to his mental health is his unwillingness to admit he is afraid of being abandoned. By the fans, by the band, by his friends and bandmates. Skwisgaar's childhood had a lot of men coming in and out of his life, all of whom wooed Serveta in hopes of becoming her one and only - and all of them leaving her once she moved on and to young Skwisgaar, also abandoning him. One could say this issue with potential father figures hit a peak with Serveta actually marrying Tỳr, and Skwisgaar trying to find that domestic bliss he craved as a child at the cost of leaving DethKlok. This fear of being abandoned has made it so he doesn't allow himself to become too attached to others, after years and years of disappointment from men claiming to be his new step-father. By the time Toki joins DethKlok, Skwisgaar has built these defenses to keep him from becoming disappointed if this too didn't pan out.

In conclusion, post AotD Skwisgaar sees Twinkletits infrequently purely because he sees it has helped Nathan and definitely helped Toki. Skwisgaar doesn't like admitting he might need help, and definitely isn't about to admit he has other issues unless it's to return the favor to Serveta and blame her for his visits to the rock talk specialist.