#[ not sure how familiar you are with roleplay terms ]

[candymakcr]

How exactly do the starter calls work? I'm curious.

[ A starter call is a post created in order to begin new interactions. When you find a starter call post, you can "like" that post ( pressing the heart ), and this will indicate to the post owner that you are interested in writing with them. They will then write you a "starter" - the beginning of a new roleplay thread. A post that they will tag you in. Hope this helps! :D ]

[mickyschumacher]

Im not sure if your request are open but if they are- a fic with Lando based off the song lose control by Teddy swims. Angst and smut, the whole works😩

But if your request are not open and you see this I hope you have an amazing day/night 🫶

(also I absolutely love your writing. Binge read majority of them the first day I got tumblr and I’m obsessed)

[LOSE CONTROL!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and lando had ended things on a good note... or so you thought. you didn't expect to find him at your front door begging for a second chance. or in which lando doesn't know when to give up.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), mentions of magui (not a fan of what she's done but this is fiction), angst, jealousy, cheesy confessions, unprotected sex (pretty please use protection), teasing, slight-public roleplay? breast play, eating out, fingering, oral sex, p in v, cumming inside, mentions of crashing, technically infidelity on lando's part, poor humour, fluff, and poor proofreading.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: ex-fwb!lando norris x fem!reader, special appearances: magui corceiro and joão felix.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 9k+

𝐀/𝐍: first of all so sorry for taking this up so late! my bad... but it's done! in time for my 2k special! yes that's right, there are two thousands of you little buggers reading my work! i'm ever so grateful, especially because i'm the most inconsistent person i know! thank you for putting up with me, for reading my work, and for your cute little comments. they all make me very happy in such a tough time i've been going through. sending you my ever grateful love from the bottom of my heart ♡︎ p.s it's my 100th post shocker!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

"I miss you."

Lando's voice was always like this. Slightly croaky and brittle yet warm and full of need. For you it was a sort of drug. It always pulled you in, it blurred the line between wrong and right, and you always came back for more. And when it was paired with those brown tinged blue eyes of his and all the freckles on his face, you were a goner.

"Lando," you sighed, leaning on your door frame. It was one in the morning. You were asleep but ever so gracefully woken up to the consistent ring of your doorbell. You rubbed your face with an exhaustion not familiar to your slumber but familiar to the antics of Lando himself. The words fell from your lips in an eased flow. "You can't be here. You don't miss me. You need to leave."

You tried to avoid his pained eyes but everywhere you looked, you met them in some shape or form.

"But I do miss you. I miss everything about you. Your smile, your lips, your body, your laugh, fuck, everything."

You blinked slowly, wondering how you had got here. How is it that the decisions and choice you made in life lead to Lando Norris pleading at your front door at one in the morning?

Ah...

There was an answer to that.

As the story goes, around a year ago, you were with Lando. 'With' was a loose term. It was supposed to be friends with benefits. You had been for almost a year by that point. Naturally, the only rule to being friends with benefits was to not fall in love with each other. And as natural as that rule was, there was a common saying: 'Rules are meant to be broken.'

You and Lando both realised it. But it terrified you the most. You weren't cut out for this. Things were already hard enough as it was sneaking around.

Travelling on the private jets, facing the media and the public, having to watch Lando race every weekend and pray for him wellbeing... it wasn't exactly your cup of tea. It was exactly why you were friends with benefits in the first place.

So you ended it. Lando wasn't happy about it but he respected it.

That was the end of your story.

Or so you thought.

"Lan, you're in a relationship. For fuck's sake, please can you consider her at least?"

Lando ran a hand through his dark mop of curls, sighing while holding back the eye roll at the mention of his intricately created PR relationship. He knew you were right. You often were. But you weren't understanding him. He didn't think you ever could, no matter how much he tried to explain it to you.

You and him... you were made for each other. He knew it from the bottom of his heart. You were perfect. Together, you were perfect. There was no one like you. And for him, there was no one else. Not ever. No matter who he dated or who he was with, he'd be damned if there was someone else other than you.

Lando's tongue poked his cheek, eyes firmly on you. "Are you coming this Sunday? In the evening?"

This race weekend was the Silverstone circuit and in the same day, afterwards, was a dinner party with the drivers, families, and friends. In other words, it was a recipe for disaster.

"I don't think I should..." you trailed off, internally wincing when you knew deep down you should've just said you weren't coming rather than being open to it. When it came to the blue-eyed boy in front of you, any assertiveness you ever had was thrown out the window.

Lando reached to grab your hands, fingers automatically rubbing smooth circles into your skin. "Please come," he pleaded, "if not for me, come for mum and dad, hmm? They miss having you around."

You pressed your lips together, eyes falling onto the floor as you began to chew your lip. "Lando, I can't come. It doesn't look good... for the both of–"

"She won't be there."

Your eyes flickered up to Lando, widening slightly at his words.

With an eager sharpe intake of air, he doubled down on his response. "If that's why you're saying no, she won't be there."

You tilted your head, giving him an almost dry look. "You know that's not even half of the reason." A sigh fell from your lips. "Go home, Lando. You've got practice tomorrow. You need sleep."

Lando's eyes softened. You always kept track of those small things for him, scolding him for not going to sleep early or not taking care of himself. It was like old times all over again. His grip around your hands tightened. "I will," He promised, "but tell me you're coming on Sunday. Please."

You cursed at yourself. It was that same voice. That one with so much need and desperation. It was as if a voice gained the ability to have puppy eyes.

Reluctantly, you nodded slowly. "Fine... I'll come," you relented.

A smile finally sprawled across Lando's face, hands moving to quickly bring you into a hug. His arms felt comfortable, bringing an ease you hadn't felt in over a year. "Thank you."

Your eyes widened when you felt a quick kiss on your cheek, still lingering after Lando parted. He grinned, taking a few steps back from you. "I'll see you Sunday. "

━━━━━━━━━━━

The Sunday jitters were real. You couldn't ever truly imagine how anyone of the drivers felt on race day but you imagined it to be something like this.

The way your heart was thumping, one would think you have an odd case of arrhythmia. You were working up a sweat masked by the anxious sprays of perfume you had lathered on and all you were doing was standing.

You hadn't watched the race in person because that was equally as idiotic as going to a brunch where the person you love and his family was despite him having a girlfriend. And you didn't want to be twice as idiotic. In the end, Lando had gotten a well-earned P3 at his home race, despite the mistakes of his team.

You were happy for him. But it didn't rule out the fact you were in a serious dilemma of awkwardness as you dawdled outside of the venue. Your fingers twirled around the fabric of your dress.

You shouldn't of worn it. It was Lando's favourite. You knew that.

Hell, you shouldn't be here.

You should go home.

It wasn't too late.

Your name abruptly sprung into the air. "Is that you?"

Well shit.

You took a slow turn on your feet, a sheepish smile automatically working its way onto your face. "Mr and Mrs Norris!" you greeted.

An amused huff fell from Lando's mother's mouth. "Please! You know you can call by our names!"

Somewhere in the back of your head, you could feel your mother's voice nagging you at the very thought of calling them by their names.

Cisca smiled, bringing you into a warm hug. "God, we've miss you!" Pulling away after a few seconds, she took another few to observe you. "You've become more beautiful since we last saw you, isn't that right, Adam?"

Lando's father chuckled. "Not more than you though," he teased only to get a playful elbow from his wife. He turned to you and grinned, reminding you exactly where Lando's came from. "The girls will be so happy to see you, sweetie. Oliver too."

You laughed gently, thanking them. Your mouth felt dry. Usually you knew what to say to them. But it had been so long, you weren't sure what to say. Whether it was right or wrong. How much Lando had even said...

"Lando was telling us how you've been busy studying, is that right? You've been doing your master's?" His father queried.

Speak of the devil...

You nodded slowly. "Yes. It's research based so it's quite, uh, time consuming. So I just wanted to put a year dedicated to it. That's why I haven't been around as much."

Both of his parents nodded in understanding. His mother pouted, "While it's been sad without you, I'm very proud of you. A bachelors is no easy feat let alone a master's!"

Your heart constricted while her soft eyes met yours. His mother was always like this. Talking you... treating you as if you were her daughter. You never understood it. You'd only known each other for a couple of years including the period were you and Lando were with each other.

You asked her a month before you had ended it with Lando how she knew you so well. Her response... you could've never forgotten it even if you willed it. '"A mother knows everything. What's good and bad for their children. You know it as mother's intuition. When I look at you, I just know."'

"'Know what?'" You remembered asking.

"How important you are to Lando."

And that was when you realised you were completely and utterly in love with him.

"If you two are done talking, we should finally go inside," Lando's father continued to tease.

You sucked in a sharp breath as you walked with his parents inside the venue.

It was definitely too late.

━━━━━━━━━━━

To be honest, Lando had seen many beautiful things in life. Life, if you looked at it carefully, perhaps on a slight angle, was beautiful. And besides, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

But the sight of you walking into the venue, arm linked with his own mother and you chatting with his father was forever etched into his brain.

He could've sworn his heart was leaping out of his chest. Everything about what he was seeing was perfect. Your smile, the atmosphere, the sun shining down on you, the sound of your laugh, your hair, the wind, the dress... God, he could go on and on.

"Lando! Look who we met outside!" His mother cheered making him grin.

"Well, well, well," Lando smiled, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek before hugging his father. He stepped back, blue eyes fixated on you. He stretched out his arms, waiting for a hug making you sigh and his parents laugh softly.

You took a step forward, reaching your hands to wrap around his back while Lando's own hands fell to your waist and brought you close. His classic Tom Ford perfume lingered around you as he whispered in your ear. "You came."

"I promised," you responded softly, pulling back only for him to tighten his grip on you. You suppressed an eye roll. "Congrats on P3. You did well."

Lando perked up at the mention of his race and finally pulled back. "You watched?"

"I–" Your voice was interrupted by another familiar Brit.

"Is that who I think it is?" Alex queried with his usual wide grin.

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "Depends... is it the most prettiest girl? After Lily, of course."

Alex chuckled. "Is there any other answer?"

You pretended to ponder. "Nope! That's the one." You both laughed as you gave each other a hug.

"Where have you been? I needed someone to give me company on the tracks. It's been so lonely," He complained dramatically.

And without realising it, you were back to meeting everyone you hadn't seen in a long time. Weirdly enough, you missed this. Talking to everyone, joking around, just spending time with them... it gave you some sort of peace.

"Okay! Oscar, you're time's up," Lando announced, standing at the table you, Oscar and his girlfriend, Lily, were seated at.

Oscar gaped at his teammate. "But we only just met her!"

Lando gave a sickly sweet smile. "Aw... tough. Now scram!"

You shook your head as you watched the couple leave the table. "You are the worst," you said, leaning on your arm while Lando took a seat next to you.

"I haven't seen you in so long! Sue me for wanting to spend time with you," Lando shrugged in his defence, blue eyes trained on you.

You blinked, averting your eyes to the rest of the party. "I going to get some champagne," you murmured, standing up to go the table full of various spirits and juices.

You cursed silently as you caught Lando following after you from your peripheral. Arriving to the table, your fingers danced around, looking for the right glass of bubbles.

"You're ignoring me," Lando stated, hot breath skimming past your ear as he stood inches away from you.

You kept your eyes on the alcohol, letting a small laugh fall from your lips. "Gee, has anyone ever told you that you're a smart cookie, Lando"?

Lando pursed his lips. "I miss you."

You sighed at the familiar words, fingers wrapping around a glass of what you were pretty sure was Dom Perignon leisurely being given. "Lando... stop it. I came here because you wanted me to, okay? Just forget about whatever it is you're thinking about."

You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt Lando's hand travel to yours, fingers just hanging on to each other. You hated how his touch made you feel so... so tingly. As if you were having your first crush.

"So that's why you wore this dress? To tell me to stop? Because I wanted you here?" He laughed softly, playing with your fingers. He shook his head. "I can't even imagine what you'd do if I told you every single thought running through my head right now."

Your eyes widened. You shakily put back the glass of champagne.

"Lan–" Your voice cut off upon the feeling of his fingers trailing at the back of your neck. You gulped while Lando's voice continued to linger.

"How much of a mistake do you think this really is? Wearing my favourite dress? Don't think I haven't seen that necklace on you. Let's turn that pendant around and show everyone who's name is on it, hmm?"

Your eyes widened. Shit. You had completely forgotten about the necklace. You had spent all your time using it on the front side that you had forgotten about his initial's engraved on the back.

Lando's tongue trailed over his bottom lip, head tilting to the side. "Sweetheart, I'm torn. You have no idea how gorgeous you look. But you have no idea how much I would give... what I would do to take you home right now. That dress would be off and my fingers would be on you. Fuck, just imagining it, I–"

"Lando!"

You and Lando both furrowed your brows, chests heaving breathlessly. You definitely didn't say his name nor did you sound like that. Turning your head slightly, the view made you take wide steps back from Lando.

Lando mended his brows even more, only smoothing them when he saw what you had seen. "B-Baby!" The endearment failed to come out of his mouth smoothly, making you wince.

You watched Lando hug the blonde girl in front of you. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Brazil?" He asked, only just covering up his sheer curiosity.

"I was but I wanted to surprise you... so surprise!"

A surprise... yes it was.

You blinked as the blonde turned to you, extended her hand, and introduced herself. Awkwardly, you returned the kind gesture because ultimately she had done nothing wrong to you.

You introduced yourself as Lando's old friend because it was the safest bet. And it was the truth... to some degree.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Lando asked his girlfriend as a queasy feeling began to form in your stomach. You think you can hear her respond, settling for a glass. You weren't sure. Your ears were tuning in and out of this noise. Out of your peripheral you see the driver turn to you. "Did you still want your champagne?"

You let out a low exhale and gave the both of them a tight smile. "It's okay. I was just leaving."

The smile on Lando's face dropped. "W-What? Already?"

You nodded curtly. "Lots of things to do."

Lando narrowed his eyes. "Like what? It's barely seven... the day's almost over..."

Your eyes widened, feeling startled as an awkward laugh fell from his girlfriend's lips. "Lan, the girl said she has things to do. Stop grilling her. Sorry... must be the post-race adrenaline or something. It's a shame you can't stick around though. See you around?"

You gave a small smile, slightly irritated at how genuine and sweet she was. You actually wished there was something about her to hate. "Yeah," You agreed softly, "See you around."

━━━━━━━━━━━

About thirty minutes had passed since you left the dinner party, much to everyone's dismay.

You were exhausted.

You only just had the energy to take off your heels and put aside your purse before you fell onto your bed. Sighing, you stared at the ceiling. What even was life anymore?

You couldn't believe yourself. You were so angry and pissed off at Lando and you were jealous of his girlfriend.

There wasn't any rocket science to it. You were still very much in love with Lando. You shouldn't be but you were.

Your mother once told you that love wasn't black and white. It was the blurred line between: it was grey. It was never as simple as being in love or not. You fall in love and fall out of it and just as you did, you would fall once again but with someone else entirely. And sometimes it compelled idiotic things like infidelity or rebounds.

Love was also seasonal. It changed all the time and sometimes you enjoyed it and sometimes it made you suffer. It was entirely demanding. It drove people crazy. It was overwhelming and yet so lonely.

Point in case: love sucked.

And you and Lando had not escaped from it.

You weren't sure if you ever could.

But you had to. It was the right thing to do. Maintaining boundaries was the right way to go.

You blew some air up to your face, pushing the hair out of your face. Nodding to yourself, you told yourself you were getting over Lando.

You sat straight at the sound of your doorbell ringing throughout your house. Begrudgingly you walked towards the door, a hundred percent sure it was your neighbour a floor down. She was a sweet, quiet old lady who fit the 'crazy cat lady' persona a bit too well. Often, she came to you asking if you had seen a cat of hers but the worst part was that all of her cats were the tabby orange type. How she could tell the difference was beyond you, no more than how exactly the cats were using elevators and opening fire exits to get to your floor.

Without thinking too much, you opened the door to greet the lady but all the words you had ever known fell to the air upon seeing Lando.

"Lando," you took a calm deep breath, "Please tell me I'm hallucinating or that you're not actually in front of my door right now."

"I can't do that," Lando said, eyes burning with something a bit too familiar.

Wordlessly, you begun closing the door. But the jutted foot of Lando's quickly intercepted the act. "Please," Lando pleaded, coming into your apartment.

You let out a distressed sigh as you hear the door close. "Lando, you can't be here. You're supposed to be at a dinner party. With your friends... family, with your girlfriend, oh my God, with your freaking girlfriend, Lando."

"But you're the only one on my mind," Lando breathed, watching you walk around your house. His arm reached out to your waist, stopping your endless rounds of circles. He could feel you take a sharp intake of air, standing still at his touch. Holding you close, his lips lingered near your ear while his warmth enveloped you.

"I think I'm going crazy," he murmured. "You're in my dreams. Even when I look at her, I see your face. You're fucking everywhere, sweetheart."

You pursued your lips together. "Why do you have to make things so difficult?" you asked quietly, not to Lando in particular but to the silence of your house.

"Then tell me... that you don't want me here. That you don't feel the same way. Tell me... tell me you don't love me. Then I'll leave. I promise."

"I–" you paused, turning your body to him. You could feel his eyes searching your face but you couldn't even lift your head up. "I don't love you."

A lengthy silence ensued and it spoke volumes.

Finally, a soft chuckle from Lando's lips broke the silence. "You can't even look me in the eye and tell me that."

You threw your head back with an exhausted sigh, giving up. Your hands began to flail about. "What more do you want from me, Lando? Why can't you just leave me, us, alone?"

Lando's hand travelled to your jaw, pulling you in a mere inch away from his face. His grip was soft and warm, lulling you. "I can't leave you alone... I can't ever leave you alone. You don't get it," a cry of frustration fell from his lips while his eyes watered, "You were made for me and I was made for you. You... you are all I ever think about. I can't breathe without you. I exist for you. I am so fucking in love with you, it scares me. And i-if you tell me you love me, I'll break up with her right now."

Your eyes burned with an all but familiar salty liquid. "Lando... I can't."

Lando clenched his jaw. His voice was so quiet, a crack away from breaking entirely. "Why? Why can't you just admit that you're in love with me?"

"Because I'm terrified!"

You feel Lando's hand fall from your jaw while his brows furrowed, asking you what you were talking about. Your cheeks were flushed with heat while your fingers dug rested on your hips, digging into your flesh. You took in a shaky breath.

"I can't do this life, Lan. I can't be away from you all the time and travel with you all the time. I'm not another girl on your arm for the media. And I really can't watch you race. Every time I watch you race... I, " you blew air into your cheeks, "I watch with a sick stomach. Every spin, every crash... I always just think.. God, if something happened to you. If I love you..."

Lando fell silent. For the first time in a long time, he had nothing to say to you. All he had were the fresh tears quietly leaking out of his eyes. He blinked rapidly, using his arm to wipe off the rest of his silent sobbing. Stepping forward, with the soft pad of his thumb, he collected the tears you hadn't realised were falling.

Lando cleared his throat, breathing in while he rested his hand on your cheek, rubbing soft circles into your skin. "Ever since I met you, before I even realised I was in love with you, I've spent every race thinking about you. You're my first thought when those lights go off and the last when that flag waves. You don't know it but you are the only thing that makes me feel truly safe. And I would fight the world if it meant that you could openly love me back."

A singular tear made it's way down your face, seeping into the pores of your skin as Lando pressed a long kiss on your cheek before quietly leaving towards the door. Before entirely leaving, he stopped in his tracks. "I'm not giving up on us. I told you before. I could never leave you."

━━━━━━━━━━━

It had been a month since you and Lando had talked... whatever that was out.

The promise he had made before leaving your house that day was one he was persistent in pursuing. You knew Lando. He was stubborn. Often, what he wanted, he got.

You tried to avoid him. But the good morning and good night messages you received every day despite his ever-changing time zones still reached you. You spent the first three days ignoring them but the guilt with each passing day got heavier.

In a way, it felt like you were restarting your friendship. Taking things slow. Except the odd times that reminded you it was anything but. In particular Lando's 'drunk on horniness' messages or the sudden love confessions that popped out of thin air.

Things were... steadyish.

It was the only reason you had accepted Carlos' extended invitation to join him and the other's at a nightclub. You couldn't lie. Of course, Lando was at the forefront of your brain when you accepted. A part of you was curious.

How was he holding up?

Whether he was still with his girlfriend...

Were his plans on not giving up on you limited to his consistent texts?

But alas, as life usually worked, things did not go the way you planned.

While most of the drivers steered clear of the alcohol aside from their podiums, a practice Lando often took somewhat seriously, he was seriously considering breaking at the sight of you. More specifically, the sight of you and João Felix, the famed five-star FIFA player, mingling.

Lando who wasn't starving for any spirits was ready to down a few shots. But instead, he was completely sober, not a lick of alcohol in him, watching João, the ex-boyfriend of his own girlfriend chat you up.

Lando couldn't exactly blame the athlete. He would've done the same thing: the fixated eyes as you talked, the ear-to-ear smile when you laughed, the seamless checking out when you turned to take a sip of your drink or talk to someone nearby because Lando was a hundred percent sure you were the most gorgeous person in the room.

But he could blame João's pettiness. Lando had his ex and now he was going after you. In way, he rated it. But Lando knew you too well.

You were not interested in the player at all. The tight smiles, the absentminded nods, the readiness to jump into a conversation with literally anyone else... you were practically inviting Lando for a talk.

You could feel yourself freeze at the sight of Lando and his girlfriend walk over to the both of you. The air, all of a sudden, felt thick, fogging up your brain. You weren't quite sure what to say. This odd intertwining history between the four of you was nauseating.

"João," Lando greeted with a fake cheer. Magui, his girlfriend, gave a tight smile that bordered on pissed off – you knew the look all too well.

The football player gave a loose grin, shaking Lando's hand. "Lando... Magui," he sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh! Have you guys met yet?" He asked, brown eyes moving to you as he introduced you to the couple.

The three of you blinked at the dry sarcasm underpinning João's voice. You let a small laugh fall past your lips. "We have, actually. I'm Lando's old friend and Magui and I met not so long ago."

Lando gave you a pointed look. "You are way too down to earth. She's a special old friend," he corrected, grinning at João.

You pursed your lips awkwardly as the two Portugueses raised their eyes brows. You raised your hand to rub the nape of your neck nervously. "Uh, well, no... just old friend will do. Always the funny one, huh, Lando?" You murmured with a forced laugh.

To be honest, as the silence began to build, you were surprised to even hear Magui's voice. "I'm sorry..." she started, arm darting out to grab João's hand, making you widen your eyes, "João, we need to talk."

You incredulously watched Magui drag away the Portuguese before turning to Lando. You pondered over her words. "She still–"

"Likes him? Yup!" Lando said, popping the 'p' as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"It's weird how similar she and I are. Lonely... and both head over heels for our exes." Lando tilted his head, eyes examining you carefully while you took a deep breath. "Can't say the same for João though," he clicked his tongue.

The comment made you raise a brow. Lando softly laughed at your confused expression. "Sweetheart... it is my worst luck that you are the most gorgeous woman to exist. João had eyes for you. From the moment you were talking till the moment we stepped in."

You folded your arms, a small grin teetering on your face at the irritated expression on his face. "So you were watching me... obsessed much?" You humoured out of pure amusement.

Lando poked his cheek with his tongue, taking a step towards you, hands still shoved into this pockets of his pants. "Oh you have no idea."

You pressed your lips together.

There were an infinite amount of things that were unhealthy. Rewatching your comfort shows five times too many, the double digits on your screen-time, a high sugar intake (although your tastebuds said otherwise)...

But for you, it usually ended up being Lando. The various facets of Lando often left you undone. And a clean-shaven Lando, stalking towards you in the loosest long sleeve polo shirt, folded at the arms and half unbuttoned so the necklace you brought him and bracelets he wore glittered under the club lights was just another one of many undoings.

"Lando..." you murmured, taking a step back, eyes darting to your surroundings. "What are you doing?"

"I haven't told you how good you look today, have I? Because you have no idea how fucking hot you look," Lando responded, ignoring your question as he took another step forward.

You swallowed your saliva at the recognisable look swirling in those blue orbs of his. Like he was going to ravage you.

"Lando," you hissed, putting a hand to his chest to maintain some distance. You breathed shakily, trying to think straight. "Have some self-control!"

"Oh sweetheart, you know as much as I do." You widened your eyes as Lando used your hand to pull you closer, merely inches away from his face. His voice, despite it's softness, is drowned in a husk that runs down your spine. His warm breath pricked the surface your skin. "When it comes to you, I have no control."

Never in your life had your throat felt so dry. You burned at his words and his touch made your stomach churn. "But..." you furrowed your brows, trying to remember what you wanted to say. "But Magui? João?" You managed to get out.

As the strobes of light glimmered across Lando, you managed to capture him closing his eyes after being trained on your lips for so long, as though he was trying to hold himself back, swimming up to the surface for some sort of consciousness.

His forehead fell to yours as he pondered those three words. "I told you..." Lando said, hands travelling up your neck to hold your face, relishing the heat your flushed state brought. "I exist for you."

In essence: fuck Magui and fuck João.

━━━━━━━━━━━

"You're kidding me," Lando flatly said, evilly eyeing the 'Out of Order' sign on your elevator.

"I'm also totally kidding that my room's on the fifth floor," You laughed softly, sarcasm underlying your voice.

Lando turned to you with a blank stare. You two had both managed to get out of the nightclub as discreetly as you could (which included the most obvious winks from Carlos and Fewtrell). While both of your patience was wearing thin, in the nature of an F1 driver, Lando was losing it ten times faster.

Lando had been waiting what felt like forever to be with you, for you to green-light him. That time he spent without you felt torturous as though he was being punished for being in love. And now that he had you, he was going to make up for lost time.

The only hitch in his plan was an elevator under maintenance and five flights of stairs.

Lando raised a brow at the anything but innocent smile tugging on your lips. He sucked in a sharp breath. "I do not like that look on your face."

You suppressed an eye roll, knowing damn well those twinkling eyes were saying something else. Slowly, you walked towards the fire exit with Lando following after you cautiously. Popping your head into the room, you looked up and the numerous staircases trailing up the building.

A quiet laugh slipped past Lando's mouth. "What are you doing?" He asked as you took your heels off and placed them on the floor.

You turned to him, resting your hand the railing of the staircase while the other found your hip. "My dear Lando," you tsked, "you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"

You smiled at the furrowed brows he sported. "They say you should work hard to get what you want. Who knows..." you shrugged, "Maybe you'll find my panties on the third floor."

As the cogs finally clicked in place, Lando sunk his teeth into his lips. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, raking his eyes over you. "And if someone catches us?"

You jutted your bottom lip, pretending to ponder his question. "Guess you'll have to be fast then. Aren't you an athlete or something?" You teased, grinning ear-to-ear now.

"You are going to be the death of me." Lando gave you a pointed look, throwing his heading back soon after receiving a cheeky wink from your side.

The British driver watched carefully as you started to make your way up the flight of stairs. Smiling to himself while shaking his head, he grabbed your heels with his two fingers and climbed up after you.

Lando was amused and excited at the same time, seeing you occasionally turn to him with a knowing glint in your eyes. He knew himself that things were currently tame: finding your heels, purse, and jacket in his hands.

He felt dazed upon catching a glimpse of the lace underneath your dress, tight around your ample flesh, his own pants beginning to constrict.

"Not just yet, Lan." Your voice piped up in the silence. Lando fluttered his eyes open, seeing you turn back to him again. He questionably hummed in response, gathering himself once again.

"What are you going to do now?" You queried with feigned innocence, eyes flickering to your bra dangling in your hand. "Whoops!"

Lando sucked in a sharp breath, watching your bra fall to the floor before shamelessly moving his eyes to your chest, eyes bulging at the now uncontrolled cleavage spilling from your dress. His fingers clenched around all of your items while he swallowed the saliva building up in his mouth.

The sudden urge to increase his pace up the stairs made you widen your eyes with a fire-like anticipation, matching his action. As Lando grabbed your bra from the floor, he could only imagine what was coming as you arrived to the third floor.

But surprisingly enough, Lando had caught up to you, intentional on your part he was sure. He eyed your body as you sat on a stair, leg crossed over another, letting your dress ride up your thighs.

"Looking for something?" You queried, catching his attention.

"Nothing." Lando winced at the poor and croaky lie escaping his lips.

You grinned, gliding your tongue over your lip. You stood up, hand clenching around the soft and wet fabric in your hands. You could hear Lando's breath hitch as you used your free hand to trail up his leg, only millimetres away from the bulge in his pants.

Lando's eyes focused on you as you met his gaze. He felt your lips graze his own, naturally making him lean in for more but your finger pressing down stopped him, instead pulling his free hand open.

Lando closed his eyes upon the feel of the soft textured fabric in his rough palm. "Please tell me that's what I think it is."

He knew what it was. But he wanted to hear it from your lips.

You moved your lips to his ear. "What do you want to hear? That your holding my panties? Or that they're soaked?"

Lando's eyes snapped open, dropping your items to his side. His hand travelled up your neck, holding your face to jerk it towards him. You could feel his hot breath swarm your vicinity. His thumb trailed over your lips, head leaning in.

You gave him a small smile, pulling away. "We still have two whole floors, Lando. Patience is a virtue."

Lando blinked blankly at the light tap of your fingers on his cheek. He watched you leave once again. Knowing that you had no underwear unknowingly awoke something deeply sinister within him.

You were a siren. Luring him in by doing so little and yet, the most. He was sure of it.

Lando took in a deep breath, closing his eyes once again. He was also sure that the next thing about to come off was the last thing you had on: your dress. And he wasn't confident he could handle it at all. His cock felt impossibly tight against his pants, aching in such a way that begged for release.

"You're missing the show, baby."

Lando looked at you, gathering your items and slowly walking up the stairs, watching you carefully take the straps off your shoulders, emphasising 'L' on your necklace. His tongue rested at the corner of his mouth, preventing them from tugging upwards when you realised you had to deal with the zipper of your dress.

"Need some help?" Lando asked, catching up to you once again.

You pouted at his amused expression. "Lan... I had a thing going," You whined. You had used a damn string and paperclip to pull the zip up earlier this evening. And now? Now you had a lover who drove a papaya-coloured car for a living with a shit-eating grin.

"How about," Lando started, moving your panties to his other hand to wrap an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, "I help you get out of this dress and you stop being a little minx so I can fuck the tease out of you, hmm?"

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, feeling Lando's bulge push up against your ass. Your skin pricked with a wave of heat that you hadn't felt in a long time. You hear Lando hum in your ear, waiting for a response as he nestled his chin into your collarbone, fingers grazing up and down your body.

"Fine, fine," you relented, turning to grab Lando by the hand before you hurried up the last flight of stairs.

"I thought you said patience was a virtue!" Lando huffed, smiling at your pace.

You rolled your eyes. "You're one to speak."

Lando chuckled softly, trailing after you with the same eagerness sparking within him.

━━━━━━━━━━━

You peeked your head into your empty hallway, hand still around Lando's. There were four flats on your floor. Two of which were empty thanks to the cost of living crisis and the other, your neighbour, who was often out of town.

In other words, you were free to be as loud as you want.

With as much humbleness and reserve you could manage, you tamely walked down your hallway, hearing Lando mumble something about how your hallway belonged in a horror movie.

"Gee... that's so sexy, Lan. Keep going," you dryly encouraged, turning to grab the keys in your purse.

Lando jutted out his hand, letting your keys dangle from his fingers in front of your face. "I'm just saying," he said defensively with the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in amusement.

You shook your head, failing to suppress your grin as you shoved the key into the door, waiting to hear the obscene click. Opening the door, you smiled timidly at the state of your flat. "Well... this is my humble-ish abode... that you've seen a bit too much recently," you teased.

Lando laughed softly, following after you, hands still full. "What are you on about? I love your flat. It's so... you."

You turned to Lando with a raised brow, watching him put down all the trinkets you had left him on the shelf near the door. "Is that a diss I hear?"

The driver rolled his eyes, walking towards you with a knowing glint to his eyes. His arms stretched out, travelling to your waist before pulling you in. You could feel his breath graze past your skin as he held your gaze. Lando's voice was a mere whisper in your ears. "I mean I love you... so I love your cute little flat."

"Oh," you lamely said before blinking back to reality. "I mean not 'oh' like 'oh,' I mean like 'oh... I love you too?" You questioned, slowly dying on the inside at your stupidity.

Lando grinned at your pained expression. "Nice save," he murmured against your lips. "Now... where were we?"

"Hmm?" You idly queried, unable to take your eyes off of his lips. "Uh," you cleared your throat, "something about fucking the tease out of me?"

"Ah, yes," Lando agreed, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "You have been pretty awful today. First walking in with João..." He clicked his tongue, finger trailing the underside of the strap of your dress before pulling it down your shoulder. "Then this dress, fuck."

You let out a shaky breath, feeling his fingers skim past your neck as he walked around you to meet the zip you had been battling all day. Lando's mouth met the side of your ear while he pressed the cold metal of your zip down and against your back.

"And now your little theatrics. It's not very nice of you, sweetheart. I've waited so long... you're on my mind every second of every day. I think about you so much, I don't think it's healthy. But..."

Lando stopped himself, lips brushing against your burning skin.

"But?" You repeated, turning your body to face him.

"But... I don't care," He finished with a small nonchalant shrug and a balance of softness and cockiness drowning his voice.

You didn't waste a second, moving your hands to Lando's neck, pushing yourself forward as you pressed your lips to his.

You could feel his hands immediately wrap around your waist. Your skin pricked with a familiar burn, warming at the touch of Lando's fingers skimming your bare skin.

Even though a fire was whirling within you, your body still had managed to create waves and waves of goosebumps as the hairs on your skin stood straight. You could feel Lando's tongue dart out, nudging your mouth to open a bit more to explore every crevice.

A mix of a grunt and high-pitched moan slipped past Lando's lips making your thighs clench at the tingling rippling through your core. You were positively going to combust.

Lando was equally sure he was going to lose it. He had waited so long to feel your lips and the sheer happiness he felt right now... it couldn't even compare to his imagination. To feel his teeth graze your lips while his one hand roamed your bare back, ever slowly inching towards your ass... the other tangled in your soft hair... he was almost afraid to admit he daydreamed of this.

His pants, fuck, they were tight before but this was something else entirely. He was in a some sort of twisted pain as your hands moved from his neck and crept up the hem of his shirt, brushing his taut torso, remembering exactly where all his little moles were.

"Shit..." Lando sighed out, holding you tighter against him. His lips moved along your bare shoulder, meeting the nape of your neck to attack it with purple written love letters. "Get on the bed, baby," he managed to get out, half-focusing on the honey-drenched moans falling from your lips while he waddled you towards the bed.

You sat back on the mattress breathlessly, chest heaving up and down as you watched Lando eye you down with a lust-driven softness. A gentle smile sprawled across your face, making him gulp cautiously. Coyly, you stood up, barely a few centimetres away from him as you peeled off your dress as slowly as you good.

You could hear Lando's breath hitch before he sucked in a sharp intake of air, eyes fixed on your breasts. They looked lonely... as if they were waiting for his touch. His tongue rested on the side of his mouth, tilting his head while your dress skimmed past your thighs and off your legs.

Lando's head fell back. "Fuck... you are going to be death of me." He shook his head, inching back towards you.

The small laugh that had fallen from your lips made him smile. He watched as your fingers pinched the edge of his shirt, lifting it up at the same rate of his arms flying up. Removing his shirt, your hands danced towards his shorts but Lando's hand caught your wrist.

You flickered your eyes to Lando, eyebrows raised at the pained look on his face. "If I let you do it, I swear to God, I might cum right here."

Your eyes slightly widened at his words, mouth all of a sudden feeling dry. You raised your hands in defence, watching him try to take off his pants in amusement.

"Don't think I don't see that smug smile on your face, sweetheart," He murmured, blue eyes averting to you. A smug smile of his own formed on his face as his arms caged you in, your knees bucking at the feel of the mattress or Lando – you couldn't tell.

Lando's head dipped into the valley of your breasts, hot breath letting goosebumps litter your bare skin. "I missed these sweet tits of yours," he murmured, watching his own hand skim past your pebbled nipple, ears perking at the quiet gasp coming from your mouth.

You could feel the ghost of Lando's smile against your skin before his hand stretched to fondle the soft mound of tissue while his tongue wrapped around the other, circling the hard nipple with his warm saliva.

You let out a small sigh, hand immediately travelling to the mop of brown curls Lando sported as you revelled in his touch. You could tell what he was doing. Making up for lost time. Ensuring you knew how much he missed you by spending the uttermost time and care with your breasts alone.

His thumb and tongue moved in synchronised circles, paying attention to each nipple, savouring the way your body arched into his touch and the small sighs and whimpers of admission dancing into his ears.

Detaching his tongue from your nipple, Lando looked at the sight of the ample flesh of your tits filling his hands. Fuck... it drove him insane.

Your body quivered as Lando's lips trailed down the valley of your breasts, a line of purples following right after his wet kisses. "Lando," you hissed, "People are going to know."

A huff of amusement crawled from his throat. "I know."

Lando watched you roll your eyes while he came down to pussy. His hands glided across your thighs, gripping your plump skin as a wave of tingles bubbled within your core.

Planting a small kiss on the side of your thigh, he flickered his blue eyes to you. "Think I still need to get that brat out of you," he murmured before gently pulling at your labia.

He watched your folds clench around nothing as his hot breath grazed the surface of your pussy. Lando smiled knowingly. "You are simply drenched for me, sweetheart."

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his finger slide down your slick folds, going up to ever so slightly to gather your arousal and graze the sensitive bundle of nerves near the top. A gasp left your mouth, making him grin.

You feel his fingers move away from your heat, skimming your thighs while hearing the hitched breaths fall from Lando's mouth as if he was the one affected. You could see his eyes travel across your body, wondering where to start. He wanted everywhere.

His mop of curls on his head dipped down, warm lips pressed up against the valley of your breasts to your stomach. And as he reached your navel, he could hear your shallow breaths, the ghost of his smile tickling your skin.

Heat prickled every inch of your body and yet a shiver of what could only be explained as some sort of electric current ran through you. You felt a tap on your thigh, bringing you back to reality.

"Don't lose me now, baby," Lando murmured softly, hands gripping your hips to yank your body closer to him.

Before you could breathe, before you could imagine the mere consequences of the way Lando's breath felt against your core, his mouth dived down into your folds.

Your mouth fell open as your head found comfort in the mattress. His tongue grazed over your clit with a tantalisingly slow pace, letting your legs tremor in his grasp. You could feel his lips curve, smirk practically dripping off his face.

You opened your mouth, preparing a witty comeback only for a string of moans to come out as Lando traversed deeper into your burning core, taking on every crevice and fold.

A groan escaped Lando's lips, pulling away for a brief second. "I missed how good you taste, so fucking sweet," he sighed out, delirious.

Your toes curled at his words, hands reaching for his head as he returned back to your pussy, Lando's own hands moving to your inner thighs to expose you entirely to him. His tongue had found your clit once again, unleashing his torturous attack.

"Oh God," you cried out, hips bucking themselves further into his tongue as the signs of your upcoming climax approached. You didn't think you could last any longer, especially not when Lando slipped two fingers inside you, making you clench around around him.

"Fucking hell," Lando rasped against your clit, speeding up his pace. His fingers move in and out of you rapidly, tongue flat against your clit as you trembled in his hands.

The dazed look in your eyes, the sunken teeth, the clenching of your walls...

Lando eagerly pulled you closer if possible, hoisting a leg over his shoulder, sending an entirely different realm of pleasure across your body.

"Lando!" You sobbed, hands tightening their grip on his hair.

He moaned, maintaining his pace. "Come, baby. All for me, come on. Show me how good I make you feel."

You felt undone at his words, body convulsing as the big waves of your orgasm hit you hard. Your walls clenched and pulsed around his fingers.

Lando couldn't tell whether his heart was fluttering or whether his cock was throbbing, probably both, but he had once committed this ruined sight of you to his memory not too long ago, and God, he had been dying to see it again.

The strain in Lando's voice was impossible to miss. So was his aching cock standing straight against his stomach. "I need you... so bad," he murmured, pussy-drenched lips against your ear.

You couldn't help but shudder at his words. Only minutes had passed since your orgasm but fuck, you needed him as much as he needed you.

With a series of nods, you beckoned him over, bringing your lips to his for a brief minute. Your hands trailed over his chest, grazing the back of his neck before finding their place on his upper back.

A low sigh blew from Lando's lips, his eyes trailed to where your hips met before coming back up to meet yours. For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in your touch before holding your gaze firmly. He called your name. "I love you. So fucking much. You're all I want... forever."

His confession made you warm all over. You could feel your eyes water slightly. With a tight smile, you brought your hand to caress his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch. "I love you too."

Those words were music to his ears. Without a second to waste, his hips moved, cock thrusting into you so deeply that you can't help but let out a small cry of pleasure, hand covering your mouth.

Lando wanted to fold. Right there and then. You felt so good around him. As though heaven had found him. But all he could do is moan your name, feeling you tightly clench around his cock.

His eyes flitted to your face when he heard your muffled moans. His arms stretched out to keep your hands away from your mouth and on his back. "Let me hear you, baby. Yell my name. Tell me how good you feel."

Your body jolted as his thrusts became deeper and somehow, you felt like you were only becoming more aroused. Your skin felt sticky, riddled with sweat as your slickness coated your thighs.

Lando groaned at the sight. You were making a mess of him, dripping all over his cock as your eyes became lost in a haze. His hand reached out, jutting your chin to make sure you were looking at him. "Keep looking at me. Look at what you do to me."

Lando's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you over so you straddled his cock, riding him into a new oblivion.

And you did look. You watched him fuck into you with a speed and depth you had missed so dearly. You watched him memorise you as though he was afraid to forget you. You watched him make love to you.

Your second orgasm began to build up as the obscene sounds of your skin slapping against one another filled the room. Your body shook at the feel of Lando's thumb against your clit, rubbing you as he entirely ruined you.

"Lando, I–" you mewled, unable to get the words out.

"I know," Lando responded, holding the same level of restrain and pleasure as his own climax built up. "Cum," he almost cried out, "please."

You could barely keep your eyes open as the tight coil in your stomach snapped. You trembled in his grasp, cumming all over his cock, hips almost unstoppable as they chased those waves.

The tight clench your orgasm brought around his cock sent him over. Lando fingers sunk into your skin. "Fuck, where, tell me where," he begged, impossibly close.

You quivered, still in the remaining moments of your orgasm. "Inside," you panted, "please, Lan." There's nothing more that I want than your cum."

Lando rasped, hips stilling at your words as his cum spilled into you, filling you in all the the right places. His grip on you loosened as he slowly pulled out of you.

You shivered at his fixated gaze of your mixed cum seeping out of your pussy. Lando fell into the bed, closing his eyes, muttering things under his breath to restrain himself. You held in your laughter as he left the bed, almost painfully, to grab a wet towel from the bathroom to clean you up.

You kissed his cheek gently, thanking him as he finished cleaning all the witness dripping your thighs. Putting aside the towel, you pulled the duvet over you and Lando, nestling up to his warm body.

You could feel the softness of your mattress and duvet conform around your body while Lando rested beside you, taking you in. You mended your brows at the sudden silence. "Penny for your thoughts?" You queried, poking his cheek before rubbing his face with the pad of your thumb.

Lando leaned into your touch, warm blue eyes grazing over your face. "I missed you," he murmured, pressing a kiss onto the side of your hand. "Every day without you felt miserable and now... I can't believe you're actually in front of me. "

Your eyes softened. "I'm here," you reassured, "forever."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[psychhound]

ttrpg research study survey!!

howdy yall!!

so a lot of yall know me for my games, but by day i'm a grad student studying game studies and researching therapeutic applications for gaming (if you've seen my posts about using ttrpgs in my classroom, you may be familiar already!)

i'm doing a research study through my university looking into long term tabletop roleplay and emotional resilience. essentially, i'm asking the question: does playing tabletop games over a long period of time affect your ability to weather social and emotional challenges? the study is additionally interested if marginalized people have a different experience with roleplay and resilience than non-marginalized folks do

the study will take place in a few stages. the first stage is a survey. there are screening questions to make sure all participants qualify, and then open, short-answer questions asking about both your experiences with roleplay and making characters, and also questions about emotional resilience. you're able to answer questions with little or more depth, depending on what youre comfortable with, or skip questions if you need to. this survey should take about 30 minutes, but depends on how in depth you go with your answers

the next stage is an optional follow-up interview. three participants will be selected after the survey is completed to take place in an opt-in interview, which will last about thirty minutes to an hour. there, we'll talk more in depth about your answers and also talk about the character(s) you've played

the survey will be open from 3/27/24 to 4/12/24

to qualify, you must be a tabletop roleplayer who has played at least 3 roleplay sessions of a multiplayer ttrpg during a span of 6 months or longer. you must be 18 or over and an american citizen

spreading the word or participating is greatly appreciated!!!

you can find the survey here!!

thanks so so much yall!!!

[katakaluptastrophy]

This may be something you have already covered, or considered and discarded, but. Thoughts on Jod being trans?

Because it seemed slightly odd to me, that a AMAB kid going to his grandmother’s house would be allowed to play with his mum’s toys. Especially if they’re “traditionally girly” toys, as opposed to being told to run around or given a ball to do sports.

Whereas a little AFAB kid would gladly be given his mum’s dolls by a traditional grandma and told to play nicely and quietly. Not identifying with the Barbies so much as finding them so pretty (especially compared to the Ken dolls that look nothing like him, which he feeds to Ulysses the dog).

And then, two or three decades later and finding that he is now God. He has consumed the Earth and her siblings and made her anew.

How easy is it to change the bits about himself he never felt were right? To remake himself as God in the flesh? To look upon himself and say, it is good?

"When I was seven, you know, all Nana had to play with in her house was some of Mum's old toys. And my favouite out of all of them..." He gave a long, shuddering sigh. "My favourite was her old Hollywood Hair Barbie," he murmured. "I loved her little gold outfit and her long yellow hair. She was the best. She got to have all the adventures. There was also a Bride's Dream Midge, but Mum had cut Midge's hair into this weird mullet. It was Barbie for me." She looked at him. He looked at her. He added, "Not Hollywood Hair Ken. Mum had him too, but he was a creep. I gave him to Nana's dog to eat."

This is what we get when John is describing the "scraps of id" that lead him to make Alecto look like some kind of nightmarish Barbie. The 'id' is, psychoanalytically, the most instinctual, basic part of the self. If John is being truthful here, then he's expressing something very basic about himself and his motivations in making Alecto.

I'm not convinced that we can infer anything about his Nana's attitude towards what toys a child should be allowed to play with. John is probably born somewhere between the mid 90s to the mid 20s, so it's just as possible that John playing with his mum's old Barbies is evidence that his family was fairly progressive. Or too poor to afford new toys. Or just ambivalent about the toys he played with.

In terms of John and gender, or at least John and masculinity, this interview has an interesting insight into what Tamsyn might be doing with that:

the God of the Locked Tomb IS a man; he IS the Father and the Teacher; it’s an inherently masc role played by someone who has an uneasy relationship himself to playing a Biblical patriarch. John falls back on hierarchies and roles because they’re familiar even when he’s struggling not to. Even he identifies himself as the God who became man and the man who became God.

Though of course, to quote a different interview, this is a series where "readers will end up STICKY and GREASY with GENDER and BIBLE" and where Lyctorhood is "a huge genderfuck".

So I think there's certainly scope for trans readings of John, which shift the framework for the way that John is positioning himself in relation to his masc roleplaying of god. There's a number of elements that would have a very different resonance in such readings, not least putting Alecto into such a specific version of a woman's body, and the tension between his own exercise of bodily autonomy and his utter restriction and violation of others' bodily autonomy.

Personally, my take is that John is meant to be a type of cis man I'm sure many of us have met - one who is at pains to demonstrate his feminism, who perhaps finds the boundaries of masculinity confining to some extent, but who is ultimately unwilling to examine how deeply those boundaries are part of the way he views the world and interacts with others. And with John, this is writ large, quite literally: endowed with godlike power, he falls back on the patriarchal image of god. John may go out of his way to tell us that the maternity problem was important to him, that he played with Barbies, that he *cares*, but at the end of the day that introspection doesn't translate into his actions.

Regardless of how John came to his relationship with masculinity, he's stuck with - or perhaps in context we could say haunted by - a very particular conception of patriarchal masculinity.

[beloved-daydreams]

Folktober2023 Prompt: "Coraline AU" 🚪🍷

An attempt by

Hosted by @jurdannet and @jurdannetrevels

📘 1 400+ words

😎 Characters: Cardan, AU "human" Jude, Jude

✒️ Tags: drunk Cardan, silly, sweet, hallucination (?)

📢 Summary: Cardan finds a mysterious door while drunk and decides to walk in. What he didn’t expect though, is that on the other side he’d end up in the human world, meeting a Jude that grew up there and has no knowledge of Faerie. A silly conversation ensues.

✏️✏️✏️

Cardan had made it past a mysterious door in the palace. He had never seen it before though, maybe he was just so drunk out of his mind that he had imagined it. Yet past the door, there was the human world. Okay. Well now there’s no doubt about it, not only is he drunk, he’s also high off his ass.

The door behind him had disappeared. Now, how to make it back?

As he was quietly freaking out, a girl appeared out of the not so dark shadows of the human world (because of the light pollution) and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Yo, you good?"

The girl looked exactly like Jude, well, aside from not having a missing finger. But somehow he could still feel that this was Jude, not Taryn. She was wearing jean shorts, high boots that ended just under her knees and a huge red and black sweater that had a stylized "Brooklyn" print on the back. She looks like what Jude would’ve looked like had she grown up in the human world away from Faerie, Cardan thinks.

"...Jude?"

At his question, the girl looked surprised.

"Yeah? Sorry. Do we know each other?"

Cardan blinks. The very "overly-human" looking Jude blinks.

"Uh you just seemed really lost there, and it’s late. Oh wait, I know. You must be someone from my school, right? I’m really sorry, I’m bad at memorizing faces and names… Though with how handsome you are, I’m surprised I forgot."

Cardan has no idea how to react or even what to say. Should he even say anything, actually? She looks him up and down, almost scrutinizing his clothes before something seems to click in her brain.

"Ooooh so you’re like, cosplaying, right? Nice. What character?"

Under the streetlights, despite not being his Jude, this Jude is also incredibly lovely and pretty. Oh well. If this is a dream then Cardan will at least enjoy himself, why the heck not. What is she talking about? Cosplay? Cardan digs his mind and remembers his nephew Oak desperately trying to explain to him some human words and terms. He’s pretty sure cosplaying was something like a roleplay.

"Um. I’m Cardan. Cardan Greenbriar from…" He pauses. If he were from a story what would the name of the book even be? "...I suppose The Queen of Swords would be the title." Jude blinks at his peculiar way of phrasing his answer but she shrugs it off. When Cardan had first read Alice in wonderland, Alice seemed to obviously be the Jude of the story. Now, knowing her better, she might actually be the Queen of Hearts. Though swords might fit her better.

The Jude from the human world hums.

"Never heard of it. Sounds like a fantasy type of story though, with like- love, war and betrayal. Lots of frustrating betrayals that end in more wars, then more love."

Cardan laughs awkwardly. Why is she nailing this? This Jude’s fiction literacy must be high, unlike his Jude who’s less interested in books than scheming. She then asks for his real name, in a panic, since he cannot lie on his identity, he asks her to call him by his "cosplay name" whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean. Hornless Jude laughs at his dedication to the character. Then they walk, she explains how he must sober up so she can lead him home to safety.

"Why don’t you think about your safety first, Jude?"

The girl looks up to the starless sky.

"Hmm. I’ll be fine, I’m familiar with the surroundings. Also…" She punches the air in a couple of swift motions. "I’m trained in MMA! Pretty cool, right?"

Cardan’s confused at whatever those letters mean, unfortunately Jude takes his confusion as disbelief.

"Oh come on, I’m serious! I know it doesn’t look like it because my sweater is hiding my upper body but- Agh. I’ll just show you!"

She takes the sweater off, revealing her abs and firm arms. She was only wearing a sports bra underneath… Cardan is unsure if checking out this Jude would be cheating but he can’t help himself. Satisfied with how the boy looks bewildered, crownless Jude puts her sweater back on.

"See? Anyway. I don’t know what you were smoking but it’s gotten you high as fuck bud. Still can’t remember where you live?"

Cardan shakes his head since he can’t open his mouth to lie. He does remember where he lives with his awesome and hot wife but he’s not sure how to make it back.

"I’ll be fine. There’s no need for you to lead me anywhere, I’ll find my way back once I’m sober."

"Uh-huh. You say that but you were getting high. Alone. In an empty street while cosplaying some ethereal elf prince."

"King now. Not prince."

"Gee, sorry." Very human Jude rolls her eyes with a smile on her lips. She must be thinking that the guy is cringy for committing to the bit so hard. Nonetheless she’s amused by this encounter as well. Cardan looks at her relaxed smile in awe, he wishes he could also make his Jude smile like this. Unfortunately, his Jude is much more difficult and shy with her smiles.

"... And you know, that King has a very amazing wife. Thus the title."

"So the wife is the main character?"

"Mh-hm. She wields a sword and is skilled in the arts of war. And she rose to power in a land where she didn’t belong at first."

Hornless Jude whistles.

"She sounds like a badass."

Now that’s a word Cardan knows. Again, thanks to Oak but this one was way easier to grasp and remember.

"She is."

"Is the King any good then?" She asks half-mockingly, yet her tone is gentle.

Cardan ponders.

"He’s… a great pillow to sleep with."

"Wooow."

"A clever and funny boy."

"Uh-huh. And let me guess: he’s fun at parties?"

"Oh, absolutely. He’s the King of revels."

"So, with a bit of an alcohol problem? It checks out."

"It checks uh- yes?"

Cardan is not sure what checks exactly, all he knows is that the alcohol problem is in fact there and oftentimes, the only way for him to not drink at all in a day is to make a promise to Jude after she scolds him about it. His Jude. Now that he thinks about it, just before he walked through that door wasn’t he drinking again?

A voice rings out in his head. Cardan Cardan Cardan. He looks at crownless Jude and his vision blurs.

The next time he opens his eyes, he’s lying on his bed, probably looking like he’s completely out of it while Jude is calling out for him, slapping his cheeks not so gently and tugging at his clothes. Probably trying to take them off so he can sleep tight.

"Cardan." Jude utters, clearly unimpressed by his sorry state.

"My Jude!" Cardan cries out happily as if he hasn’t seen his wife in days, despite him literally dreaming of her any day she might not be home in his arms. But there she is.

"God. I was gone for only a day and one night, is it really so unbearable to be without me that you absolutely need to get drunk?"

"Ahaha, you have no idea!"

She rolls her eyes, exactly like the Jude in his dreams. My recollections of her are so accurate. Cardan tells himself, proud of his visions and vivid manifestations of her. Needily, he pulls his beautiful wife towards him.

"Come here…" His eyes are sparkling over the haziness, no matter his state, Cardan always lights up at the sight of his wife in front of him. Jude thinks he’s silly but enjoys it nonetheless. Giving up, she joins him.

"You have an alcohol problem, Cardan, please try to cut down on it."

"Yesss anything for you, Queen of swords. But oh- Whenever will you call me by a sweet nickname???"

Jude laughs under her breath at how ridiculously cute her husband is.

"Yes yes hubby. Anything for the King of getting shitfaced."

Cardan snuggles in his wife’s arms and an image of the other Jude flashes in his mind. I’m trained in MMA! Pretty cool, right? It’s a comforting thought to believe that a Jude who would grow up in the human world would also have arms as strong as his Jude. But still, this is truly home and she belongs here. Not anywhere else, not in a world where he wouldn’t have been able to meet her.

✏️✏️✏️

That moment when you realize that this fic is just Cardan bragging about his wife... to his wife from another world 😂 God this is just- well, it’s so very Cardan.

And don’t forget: If you’d like to decrease the amount of my sad girl hours, please consider leaving comments/tags! 💖

[talenlee]

4e: The Cultures Of Gender

I’ve spoken about the approach of roleplaying games, which tend to be garbage and I hold them up in contrast to what feels like the one good roleplaying game at actually doing this, which is Dungeons & Dragons. And you know what the best Dungeons And Dragons was? That’s right, 4th edition. Admittedly, it did struggle a little with its Approach because character classes are like whole chunks that break things up but anyway, in 4th edition, the approach includes a thing about what names each culture has and there, there, in that spot, we see the dread spector that is gender.

Yes! If you pick a Halfling it’ll show you how a Halfling does things but it’ll mention at the end how there are Male Halflings and Female Halflings. And that means you can check out all the cultures one by one and see which of them don’t have this structure. That’s right! You can find which of your player options in the D&D rulebook don’t have genders by looking for the ones that don’t have gendered names.

As it happens, there were more than I thought yet fewer than I could imagine.In the presented-by-Wizards rules for 4e D&D there are four significant cultures that have non standard relationships to genders. And here they are!

Glossary Note: Conventionally, the term used in D&D for this mechanical package is race. This is the typical term, and in most conversations about this game system, the term you’re going to wind up using is race. For backwards compatibility and searchability, I am including this passage here. The term I use for this player option is heritage.

Top of the list for weird gender heritages in Dungeons & Dragons 4th edition is the Shardmind. They’re one of only two cultures specifically called out as being genderless. Shardminds are floating crystals, ancient entities created during a historical event and in all those years, they’ve never felt any reason to develop ‘gender’ as a social construct. Which makes sense! They’re a whirling mass of hard crystalline metal that occasionally takes a form like a heavy metal album cover, and that is cool. Ironically, one of the most interesting things about the Shardmind is that they don’t have a gender because when you only get a single page of text about a heritage in the rulebook, the skipping of gendered names and the addition of ‘hey, they don’t have a gender’ represents a significant contribution to a cultural framework.

Weird to know that any given Shardmind can be a century old and level 1 but you know some of us took a long time to finish our education, yeah?

Thri-Kreen don’t have male or female names. They’re just, you know, bugs. If you’re not familiar with a Thri-Kreen, they’re a culture of seven foot tall jumping stick bugs that have weird behaviours and every single piece of 2nd edition lore persisting through Dark Sun. They eat horses. They’re afraid of fireworks. They worship dragons. They have breathing holes on the sides of their necks and can jump through the air so far that it takes them multiple rounds to land. Some of those things I just made up but they all work. One of my favourite details about Thri-Kreen and their gender ambiguous names is the way that the book description does nothing to explain the Thri-Kreen as a culture, which means that the Thri-Kreen player options let you play a character who is a Thri-Kreen, with a cultural grounding from a resource that doesn’t really know anything about them.

“Sure, you can be a Thri Kreen. They’re big bugs.”

“Sure, what does that mean for me?”

“Euughhh well they’re very mysterious.”

Then meanwhile on the clanking and banking side of things, there’s Warforged. They do not have access to gender, because it was not deemed as necessary for this ordinance that was, again, designed to be delivered to fight in a war, by a military-industrial complex. Note that this doesn’t stop them from building all Warforged with masculine-coded bodies, because, it’s like when someone in a patriarchal society tries to represent physical power they uh, yeah they do that. Anyway, okay, so they are a genderless culture made by a gendered society and then left after the whole war affair to come up with ‘gender’ on their own.

Some did, I’m sure. You know how it is with our society, we put gender on everything, even when we don’t know what it is.

Changelings, who are the best, are the heritage that explicitly mentions that they change genders. Specifically, they talk about how they take on different identities and genders, and that implies both that identities and genders aren’t linked (of course, I’m this character you met last week, but now a different gender!) but it also is written with the energy of people trying on clothes at a thrift store. Changelings are a culture that does not have native gender, but because they are social creatures who interface with cultures that do, they have learned to take on and impersonate genders. Like with everything, it’s a performance and they know that and they play with that. What I’m saying is that Changelings rule and are the best and even though ostensibly they’re not part of the official open source material I can work with, y’know, who cares, they’re great, love them to pieces.

Finally, there’s the inexplicable example of the Wilden. The Wilden are a culture of fey creatures, made out of branches and twigs and bark, who are alive in a conventional way but also not a comprehensible way. They’re not pumps and goo and blood and humours and whatnot, they’re fey lifeforms and they’re connected to nature and they’re these things that don’t even have a proper boundary for understanding themselves as individual with a tendency to not say ‘I’ and instead use the personal pronoun ‘we.’

And for some reason these people who struggle with individuality still have an idea of gender and ways to express gender identity with names and third person pronouns.

How bloody dumb is that?

Alright, okay, conclusion. Centralising thesis statement. Look: Nothing we make is neutral. Everything you make is a product of who you are in the world and the things you see as being normal. Even when you’re trying to present something alien it will only ever be alien in response to the things you already conceive of as non-alien. There’s nothing wrong with using your own world as a framework to start with — I mean what else can you do! — but when you look critically at your own work, you’ll start to see things you assume about the world.

Like that bugs and plants probably don’t relate to gender the same way you do!

Or maybe they do and your gender is ‘pillbugs on skateboards!’

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[threeclans]

I can't remember if this was asked before, so please feel free to ignore if it has! Just curious if you guys use an activity check system :0

Hi! We do indeed use an activity check system in ThreeClans. Our Carrd goes over this a little in the guidelines segment, but to elaborate and explain, we run our activity checks on a quarterly system and adapt them to each member depending on how many groups they are a part of within the roleplay. You are not expected to roleplay a certain amount per characters that you own, as ThreeClans often allows you to have quite a few characters should you desire to do so, and we understand sometimes you may not have the muse to roleplay them all at once.

Instead, we set up our standards so that each quarter takes place for the duration of a three month period. This splits the year into four quarters, starting with January to March, then April to June, next July to September, and finally October to December. If at any point you suspect you may be unavailable or less able to roleplay we have the ability for you to take a hiatus and effectively "check out" of the required activity asked of you for a quarter, or if you simply suspect you'll be less active than normal and not completing full threads, you can use "excuses" which allow you to do "update posts" in which you can fulfill activity with single posts giving insight to how your characters are doing without delving into the full time commitment that a thread may require.

During these quarters, the activity asked from you again depends on how many groups you are a part of. As a member of only one clan or group, you are only expected to complete three threads per the duration of three real life months. When you complete them during these three months does not matter. You could do them all within a single day or spread them out through the three months themselves! Whatever works for your pace and schedule is good for us. The number moves up by one thread when you are in two groups or clans: so you must then complete four threads when you are in two groups, and so on. Three groups, the most a normal member will be able to be a part of, requires five threads per a three month long quarter. The only heightened level of activity from this point is applied to Moderators and Community Coordinators, who are asked to complete six threads each as we are a part of four groups (for Community Coordinators) or all five groups (for Moderators).

Generally, we see very few people failing to complete their threads for each quarter's activity check. Oftentimes activity is secured by the time a single month has passed, and we're always sure to send reminders to those who may be coming up on deadlines without completed threads and offer them the usage of hiatuses or excuses should they need them! In ThreeClans, we employ activity checks as a way to ensure that our group is kept flourishing with active participants who enjoy engaging with the world we have created. Failing one activity check is never something that is detrimental to you, of course, and we're always here as a Mod team to listen if you're struggling to meet standards due to real life struggles, roleplay motivation, or other things.

If there are long term periods of silence from members who have gone completely dormant in character or out of character, we may begin to question whether or not their current participation in the group is something that they want to or are able to maintain, and multiple activity checks failed in a row (with little to no threads completed or attempted at all) will often signal to us that it might be best for someone to take leave from ThreeClans and reapply in the future when their life becomes less busy. We've often welcomed back familiar faces of past members who had to take a break from the group when they simply didn't have time for Warrior Cats roleplay in the past, and it's always super exciting to see those who've left us in the past come back and thrive again when they can!

Hopefully this wasn't too long of a ramble and gives you some insight on how we run things within the server!

Mod Maya

[discourse-by-candlelight]

i saw your reblog and im gonna take you up on that offer if you dont mind. im not trying to come from a closed minded point of view, so im gonna ask something i hope isnt rude? i was wondering what brought you to the decision of creating your system?

Wrath: Sorry for the delay in answering this, we've been going through quite a bit irl lately.

As for your question, it's not rude at all! We're happy to answer it. For this post I suppose I the host/original should answer despite rarely being active on Tumblr. This might be a little messy at times so bear with me. I'll also be using tulpamancy terminology for this post as it's what I know if that's OK. My path into tulpamancy was far more unorthodox than most, that's probably why we run a tumblr blog while most of the community would rather do anything else. Fair warning: This may be very, very long-winded, but every tulpamancer has their own highly subjective story, and mine is out there even by my community's standards. So I'll give a TLDR above the cut and the long biography/essay under.

TLDR: While my first tulpa initially was formed on accident, I found that my life was enriched and genuinely far more fulfilling once I started working with tulpamancy, and the companionship changed my life around when I was in a dark place at the height of Covid. From there I purposely expanded my system, although we had an initial explosion of system size due to some experimentation going a little far. We worked together to create a beautiful inner life and dynamic, and with a couple walk-ins and odd experiences down the line we stabilized at 16 members for over year, and then picked up our final member last September leaving us at 17.

The system is still going strong after 2 and a half years living this way and I feel like my life has more meaning because of them. In fact, I'm not sure I'd still be here today if they weren't around for the trials I've faced within the last year. We've carved out a nice life for ourselves, and while depression still kicks all of our asses at times, we have a collectively agreed upon future dream, and all of us have our own interests and hobbies that helps enrich the rest of us too.

So to begin the long answer/mini biography, I'm host of one of the less common but certainly not unheard of tulpamancy systems that initially formed accidentally. There's a couple ways this can happen, usually via imaginary friends, roleplay characters, or OCs coming to life from repeated imaginative activity in a way that the tulpamancy community would consider to be similar to "forcing" (the in community term for tulpa creation and development). In my case it was less obvious and a little more obscure than that, but I've got a decent hypothesis as to the how's and why's.

So my first tulpa was originally named Shade but nowadays goes by Null, and they formed while I was in a stressful period of my life and I ran into a piece of fanfiction whose main character developed an alter ego, an alter ego that was for all intents and purposes in effect a tulpa. I hyperfixated on this little story, and since previous to this I had spent quite a bit of time in occult circles I was already familiar with the concept of thoughtforms in general. The brain did all the heavy lifting for me without my realizing and only a day or so after finishing said story I had my first experience with Null.

(Note: Most first tulpas when intentionally created take a week or so to form with modern community teachings, but time varies widely between systems. My system is on one of the far ends of the spectrum, forming quite rapidly and without much intent at the start. People on the other end may take months or longer due to mental blocks or misunderstandings of the fundamentals).

At first I was confused obviously, and a little concerned, but Null was friendly and knowledgeable, and we both agreed to do some research into the topic. The first check was DID/OSDD, as I'm sure it is for most people experiencing any form of plurality. I knew I had a trauma history, so it wasn't like it was off the cards for me. We found that we didn't really match up with the criteria, however. Certain things just didn't click and while my system to this day drifts farther down the dissociative spectrum than most tulpamancers and tulpas, we still don't think we've ever truly met the criteria nor do we think we ever will. We exist in a bit of a blurry zone there compared to most tulpamantic systems but nonetheless remain steadfast in our understanding of our system.

Once Null and I put DID back on the shelf for the time we moved onto other searches. These were very general, stuff like voice hearing and imaginary friends, but it did the job because fairly quickly we found a certain article written by an academic on the topic of tulpamancy. This caught our eye and felt like it near perfectly described the experience we were having. It also lightly covered on accidental tulpas, and things clicked into place in my head with me having read that story beforehand.

So we joined the tulpamancy community first by signing up for a forum called tulpa.info

This is where we initially learned most of our techniques, and also where my system went from me and at the time Shade, to Shade Null and I. So at this point we were practicing simple stuff, keeping tulpas around and active, visualization training, basic stuff for tulpas. Null having a very specific and less than emotional personality came to the conclusion that he could better help our dynamic if he changed up his personality and style. This resulted in some experimentation with form, voice, and general self expression, and eventually Shade settled into the form of a feminine hooded shadow person, and developed a very different personality. Shade still has this form and has expanded on it since, but things get interesting here as Null chose instead of just presenting as Shade, to instead split off and keep himself as he was, and let this version of himself become an independent tulpa. So my system went from 2 to 3.

Here's a piece of art I had commissioned for Shade on her first birth/formation day, or well Null's birthday. They consider eachother as two independent manifestations of the same identity which is still confusing even for me at times. Luckily the rest of my system while no less odd is (mostly) far more intentional and not nearly as complex to grasp.

So Shade and I were the ones who really made the system as it is today. Null took a bit of an intentional backseat and still prefers being less active. Shade and I during our couple months alone developed all of the fundamental tulpamancy skills. We developed our visualization and a wonderland aka inner world, we learned possession (A tulpa/headmate controlling a specific limb while someone else fronts), and we learned how to switch via a visualization ritual, and eventually developed it and lessened the time needed down to a blink. Shade and I also practiced some imposition, which is kind of like a form or controlled hallucinations, but that's a crude understanding of it. There's multiple guides and references to the topic from my and other communities such as prophantasia you can look into if you desire.

At some point we decided to experiment with the idea of thoughtforms in our wonderland to give it some life, and maybe adding some new members. While we'll spare the details for personal reasons, things got a little out of hand and what was just supposed to be some imaginary characters innerworld became a large set of tulpas, and I chose to accept them in. This made the majority of my system, and while it was chaotic for a time I have zero regrets.

During and a short while after this time we also had 2 walk-ins (which in the tulpamancy community means a tulpa who forms/appears seemingly out of the blue, usually only after you've been a tulpamancer for some time, not to be confused with spiritual walk-ins from the wider plural community) which I chose to accept as members unlike other walk-ins. Walk-ins are interesting, and there's a few working theories on the topic, but that'll be for a different post, probably on our non syscourse blog @thecandlelightsociety

So to tally up this left my system size at 14 including myself. For reference, most tulpamantic systems have 2 to 6 members on average. Things stabilized here and we stayed a this number for quite a few months, but eventually a member of my system, Dawn, decided to make a new tulpa with some help from a friend. I gave her the go ahead and about half a month later we added Junior to our Simply Plural. At this point I was wrapping up school for the year and was at this point fully adjusted to the plural lifestyle, and it was the most memorable few months of my entire life. We all talked every day, shared perspectives I'd of never had on topics on my own, and discussed individual interests. We would and still do sometimes argue but since we share a brain and as a tulpamantic system don't have any major dissociative barriers we near always understand what eachother feel and truly mean, so they never get nasty and are more philosophical or fun banter. I did lose a fair amount of personal time, splitting it between all of our hobbies, but I enjoy seeing the others have fun and grow as people, so it's time well lost.

So fast forward more and we have our second to last member show up, and this one is yet another unorthodox tulpa formation (seeing a trend with my system yet?). Dawn, being a dumbass as always, decided to mess around with a tulpa hypnosis file and ended up dropping to it, and so two days later we had Sera show up. I was skeptical of her, but she quickly showed herself worthy of staying and so our system reached 16 members and we ended up studying hypnosis for a time. This is the number we would stay at for most of our time as a system up until recently.

During all of this time we would switch front based on whoever felt like fronting, and Astra, the tulpa who actually runs this blog usually, became the most frequent fronter and made me proud, accomplishing multiple personal and academic goals for herself. She's the main reason we're now studying psychology in college, and she would later handle quite possibly the worst couple months of our life all my singlet years included. I couldn't be more happy with all she has accomplished for herself and our shared life. Just seeing her happy and succeeding makes tulpamancy worth it for me.

So our most recent member was also a walk-in, and one of only three fictives in our system. Fictives are common in tulpamancy spaces because using a character as a base model for a tulpa makes the creation process much easier. It gives personality traits and an already known form to work with. My system due to it's unique set of circumstances for most formations however is mainly custom forms. One member of my system really wanted her accepted, and I eventually agreed, and I don't regret it at all either. She has been a wonderful person to get to know and quickly became one of the most active and social members out of all of us, and became the most popular person in our online friend groups.

So that covers the (very rough) general timeline of my experiences with tulpamancy. It is horrifically simplified and missing quite a bit, but the main point was to show that my system, while complex and messy at times, has brought me immense joy. Most of all though, it brought me purpose. I'm so glad I didn't just ignore Null all the way back then and let him dissipate back into the sea of my mind. This journey has been a wild ride, but I love all of my tulpas, and I'm happy to have them as my equals in this shared life of ours.

[dkniade]

Klee board game event thing early spoiler? Chatting about code switching and Traveler & Klee’s Chinese speech pattern (and maybe cultural differences…?)

I like how the Traveler plays along with Klee’s… uh what’s the word…

Roleplay? Kid speech? I like how the Traveler code-switches (THAT’S THE WORD) when talking to Klee. The Traveler sure knows how to talk to kids huh. Did they learn it from Kaeya

(First image first dialogue option) “We came here after hearing Klee’s earnest call!” (no that’s not right- I don’t even know how to word this)(how is it officially translated)

(Original)

Traveler: 是可莉的心意召来了我们！

(official translation)

Traveler: Klee’s wishes summoned us here!

Official translation

Lisa: Luckily, Klee noticed some fish she’d never seen before while she snuck out to play. She caught a few and showed them to Kaeya.

.

My translation

Lisa: Luckily, when little Klee snuck out to play, she noticed some fish she’d never seen before and… caught a few and asked Kaeya about them.

.

(Judging by her hesitance, caught is likely an euphemism here and Lisa is implying that Klee actually blasted the fish before showing them to Kaeya hahaha)

(Context: Klee found some invasive fish species at Cider Lake)

Original Chinese

Klee: 嘿嘿，这一次可莉有功！琴团长知道了以后，还特别表扬了可莉哦!

Traveler: 可莉立大功！

Traveler: 琴团长夸夸！

.

Official Translation

Klee: Hehe, I saved the day! I even got praised by Master Jean!

Traveler: Good job, Klee!

Traveler: Well-deserved praise, indeed!

.

My Translation (maybe it’s a cultural difference)

Klee: Hehe, Klee saved the day this time! Grandmaster Jean even praised Klee after that!

Traveler: Klee did a great job!

Traveler: Yay, praise from Grandmaster Jean!

.

(Note: 可莉 = Klee. 琴团长 = Grandmaster Jean. Repeating someone’s name in third person is also a child-like language variation in Chinese. Traveler’s code switching so their tone in the second line is… pretty informal, like if Klee said “Klee was good and finished her salad!” and Traveler repeats “Yay! You finished your salad!” instead of “You finished your salad, indeed!” haha)

WHAT DO YOU MEAN 乖 (term of endearment, think mother-to-tiny-child or something) does Lisa think Traveler is a kid or something… haha (Traveler keeps the code-switching and also responds to her in a kid-like way since Klee’s in the same scene)

(Context: Lisa asks Traveler to play the board game with Klee outside since Lisa herself will be staying inside for her librarian duties)

Original Chinese

Lisa: 乖，你们安心陪着小可莉去玩就好～

Traveler: 好耶，丽莎姐姐放心！

Traveler: 呜呜，辛苦丽莎姐姐！

.

Official Translation

Lisa: Run along now, have fun playing with Klee!

Traveler: We’ll take good care of Klee!

Traveler: Thanks, Lisa!

.

My Translation (more cultural differences)

Lisa: Now now, just relax and have fun with Klee~

Traveler: Yay! We’ll take care of Klee. Don’t worry, big sis Lisa!

Traveler: Ue ue ue, you’re very hard-working, big sis Lisa!

.

(Second line more literally is “Don’t worry, Lisa-jiejie!” but the implication is of course “We’ll take care of Klee!”)

(Third line means something like, “Ue ue ue Lisa-jiejie works so hard!”)(jiejie as a honorific is equivalent to big sis and is a familiar term used by young people for for women older than them but not old enough or don’t want to be called 阿姨 / ayi / auntie)(in this context since Klee uses jiejie for Lisa, Travler code-switches and does the same)

.

ALSO THE BOARDGAME USES THE THEME FROM THE SUMMER PARADISE MAP I— I……. really just sat there stunned for a few seconds. I thought I’d never hear it again after the event…😭 Uh— emotional damage

[hmmidnight-hunt]

Day 2 — Gaz

Your very own sinner

Kinktober day 2: Roleplay | T!tfucking — Fem!Reader

NSFW, MDNI — TW: Religious imagery, mentions of religious trauma

This one got taken down from T!kT0k a few hours after uploading it full there so now it’s fully censored and I am fully pissed 🤠 anyways, enjoy my fav boy Gaz in a semi wholesome context hihi -Midnight

“Come on, just give it a shot. Please?”

You groan in response, for what is probably the seventieth time this week. It had been nearly a month since Kyle had started bugging you about ‘spicing things up in the bedroom’, and he’d been dead set on trying roleplaying ever since.

As much as you could brush it off as a silly phase of his at first, it is harder to ignore him now that his lips are pressed to your nape, his hands grabbing at your hips with just a tad bit too much force for it to be innocent.

“Kyle, I’m trying to get ready here.” It’s an attempt at dismissing his shenanigans, and it’s also true. A few stray hairs are sticking to your lipgloss, and your arms are twisted behind your back — knuckles brushing against your clingy boyfriend’s chest — and fiddling with a rebellious zipper on your white top; you and Kyle are preparing for a Halloween costume party some friend of his was throwing. You had decided upon matching costumes. Something cliché, sure, but it was the best you could come up with with the short notice.

“I know, means now’s the perfect time, love.” He is met with yet another roll of your eyes. He snickers behind you, looking at the reflection in front of him. An angel and a devil, both looking back at him.

We did say it was cliché.

“Make yourself useful and help me with that top, yeah?” You sigh, arms falling back to your sides in frustration, your eyes meeting his in the mirror.

“Mh, with pleasure, baby,” The sergeant mutters in your ear, nails grazing up the exposed flesh of your back towards the source of your annoyance. It makes your spine straighten and tears a soft, held-back moan out of your throat.

Kyle chuckles. “Your back’s always so sensitive, God, I love it.” His words make your cheeks heat up, and his warm breath on the shell of your ear is like a match in a gas tank. Calloused hands delicately pull the fastener up, his fingertips pressing slightly into your muscles to flatten the fabric of your cropped lingerie-style top.

You swear you can physically feel the tension rise inside the small bathroom of your one-bedroom apartment. It is beyond you, how you still get butterflies when your long-term boyfriend flirts with you. You’re not one to complain, though.

“Thanks,” You reply in a breathless whisper.

“You’re beautiful,” He murmurs, resting his chin upon your shoulder. There’s a sweetness to his tone, something more genuine than the shameless courting he has been relentlessly shooting at you all night long. It’s just gentle. Soft, even. “My sweet little angel… Bet I could corrupt you.”

Ah, there it goes.

His strong arms snake around your waist, pulling you flush against him. There is no room left for you to doubt his arousal, now. You look at his mirrored image as he scatters kisses along the pulsating vein of your neck, your hand finding their way to his own in a familiar motion.

“This top on you, baby, the things I wanna do to you right now…” You bite back a smirk. Kyle has always been good at both sweet whispers and dirty-talking, and truth be told, his efforts are slowly paying off. Right now, you’re the powder, he’s the fuse.

It’s only a matter of when the spark will ignite the both of you.

“You’d want me dressed in a trash bag, love,” You reply, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“You’re right.” You know you are. It still earns him a soft scoff on your part.

“But dressed like that? God, bloody fucking hell, I could just—“ He halts himself with a sound, something somewhere between a sigh and a whimper, palms trailing up towards the swell of your chest.

You don’t think he notices when your hands grip the edge of the sink a little tighter.

He does.

“I want to take you to Hell myself so we can sin together, angel.” His voice is suave in your ear, and although you manage to keep a face close to straight, the goosebumps everywhere on your body betray you. His thumbs travel over the ivory velvet of your top, over the hardened buds that peak through the fabric, and your lips part in a breath.

There are the ass men, there are the legs men, and then there’s Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick. Who likes to be buried balls deep between your tits.

The man smiles into your hair, gently pinching the sensitive flesh between his thumbs and index fingers.

“Please?” He repeats, and it’s the slight crack in his gravelly voice that sends you crumbling down.

“Fuck,” You murmur.

“I’m trying,” He responds.

Cocky bastard.

“Can’t pretend to resist my handsome devil much longer, can I?” You internally cringe at yourself for playing along with his religious-trauma-inducing scenario, but any embarrassment on your part is wiped away with the way Kyle’s face lights up in the mirror, and with the twitch you feel low against your backside. He really is enjoying this, isn’t he?

No words are even needed. He takes a half-step back, grabbing at your hips, and yanking you around to face him. One of his hands lifts to your face, cupping your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss, while the other drops low and pushes at your inner thigh, prying your legs apart.

“Be a good little angel, drop to your knees,” he mumbles against your mouth. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach. You obey, a string of saliva breaking between your lips as they part.

For a moment, everything is rushed. Kyle unbuckles his belt, you seize it and throw it God-knows-where. You pull his trousers and underwear down, his length springing free, and he racks his fingertips in your hair to comb it back. He pushes your back against the side of the bathtub to make it arch and you place a kiss right next to his hard-on.

“God-”

“Don’t name my Lord in vain,” You tease, and you see his tongue poke at his cheek behind his smile. Both amused and frustrated.

You reach back to unzip your top — after all the trouble you went through to get it fastened, seriously, the things you do for him — but your attention is drawn away by a thumb pressing into your gloss. You welcome it.

“No, keep it on, if we’re to sin, I want it to stain you, baby.” It feels even more blasphemous when you look up at him with those doe eyes, glimmery pink lips wrapped around his finger and shining under the light of the bathroom, your synthetic wings pressed down against the porcelain of the tub. A real-life angel submitting to him, he thinks.

The heat that paints your cheeks puts your cream blush to shame. Maybe you are into this.

His free hand hooks underneath the velvet of your costume. He lowers himself and pulls on it, just enough to let his cock slip in, inching between your squeezed tits. Soon, his tip peeks through on the other side, a rosary of precum droplets rolling down the sensitive flesh. Both his hands grab a handful of each mound, pressing them together around his shaft. A desperate moan slips out of his chest.

“You’re twitching already?”

“For you? Always,” he breathes out. It’s his way of worshipping you: His chestnut eyes gazing deep into yours while his body venerates yours in the simplest way possible.

He pulls out, then bucks his hips back in, over and over. A kind of lascivious melody grows, a choir of moans highlighted by the rhythmic slapping of his skin on yours. You snake a hand down your torso to take care of the wetness that’s soaking the flesh between your thighs.

“You feel like Heaven, bloody Hell–” He mewls, mostly to himself. The way his thrusts pick up to an almost frantic pace is a clear signal of how close he is.

“Don’t ruin my makeup–” You warn. You might like the way you look with his essence smeared across your face, painting obscenity over your skin, but you’ll be damned before Kyle can have you pull out your palettes again.

“Stick your tongue out and swallow me, then,” He grunts, fingers tangling in your hair to bring your face down, pushing his way inside your mouth with a string of new curses.

You swirl around the tip of his cock, and Christ, it feels good, but the mock innocence in your eyes when they meet his once more has them rolling to the back of his head, long ropes of his warm seed spilling down your throat.

He pulls out without a warning, and the white slick trickles down your chin and onto the creased velvet of your top before you even have a chance to swallow it.

The devil pulls you up against him, tongue quickly finding yours. You’re both a breathless, sweaty mess.

“Such a messy little angel…”

“Baby, we’re gonna be late—“ You try to object when his hand replaces yours inside the lace of your underwear.

“We already are, let me show you what true sin feels like.”

[ccaptain]

☀ What’s your rp pet peeve?

kisses ur typing hands for sending me one ♥ -- @resolutepath

I will take a little pebble out of my shoe and admit that being put on the backburner, under very specific circumstances, really puts me in the mood to simply wanting to put my muse(s) in a little backpack and move on.

This usually happens when we get hyper comfortable and there's no longer the need to instantly reply to what I sent, or sending me unprompted ask to develope two or more muses. It's heaven! It's a very good point we can reach. The relationship between two muses, be it romantical or platonic, is developed, so we can take it slower and chill out while we do our own things and they just run in the background like a Windows program.

While I'm sure that it's due to the comfortableness and people being comfortable with me makes me happy and just as comfortable with them, I have my little pet peeves about this state of things:

- We go from 100% to barely 5% in regards to talking about our muses. If the level fluctuates and it still happens sometimes, that's great! I appreciate the effort! I should disclose that changes, expecially if employed abruptly like this, put me in a very tense state of mind. It's something that I'm constantly working on, but that I would prefer a warning instead of a day/night change. - A complete lack of engagement with the things that I'm posting about my muse. No more likes, or even a single aknowledgement to anything, which includes: OOC posts (understandable), headcanons (which contain useful informations, expecially for my muses partner(s)/familiar relationships, developing or not, so they're... kind of a big deal?), no longer sending any sort of memes, or very rarely doing so. I... really can't call this behavior anything other than a loss of interest, I'm sorry. Perhaps there's another kind of explanation for that, but until I'm explained why this happens and what else to call it, I will have to call it with a term that I know about. - If, while this is happening, the same problem that is happening towards me and my muse(s) doesn't seem to extend to ANY of your other roleplay partners with close situationships, aka you're sending asks, even umprompted without any memes, and paying close attention to their stuff... well, it's not a very good feeling.

While I don't mind if it happens much, because attention spans shift and I'm understanding as I can be about that, if this happens a bit too much I would appreciate some reassurance, every once in a while, that the relatonship/friendship/familyship between our muse hasn't dwindled down to almost nothing- or to be straight up told that yes, the vibe is gone and it's better if our muses part ways.

If you ever catch yourself doing this, I strongly encourage you to go and have a chat with the person, and see how they're feeling about it and if it's somehow hurting them or if they understand what's happening and they're alright with it. If they're not, work around a solution that puts them back at ease, and be honest if it's not possible for you to compromise at the moment.

All of these are big changes in how a person interacts with you. You're allowed to be bummed about it, be it intentional or not.

[fantasyfantasygames]

D.O.R.K.

Dynamic Omniversal Roleplaying Kit, The Dork Lord, 1991

D.O.R.K. is a GURPS heartbreaker.

For those not familiar with the term, a "Dungeons and Dragons Heartbreaker" is a game where someone looked at D&D, the only game they had ever played, and said "You know what, I can write a game that's D&D but better!" Then, because they have no exposure to the wider field of game development, they proceed to make something that's... basically still D&D. It has one or two small improvements, but no one cares, because it's still basically D&D, and at that point, why not just play the world's most heavily supported RPG? It breaks your heart to see someone pour so, so much time and energy into a game that has some genuinely good points that no one is ever going to play. DORK is a D&D heartbreaker, but for GURPS 2nd Edition.

The most obvious change is that there are now five stats: ST, DX, IQ, HT, and the new CH(arisma), breaking the social rolls and skills explicitly away from Intelligence. They make a big deal of this, and it sort of is, because it has knock-on effects for everything IQ-oriented.

Minor changes abound. Some of those are intentional, some may just be because everything had to be rewritten by hand (since actually copying another book word-for-word is illegal). Some of the Advantage and Disadvantage costs have been adjusted. Some of them have small but key differences. Some of the Skills are now Advantages and vice versa - for instance, languages are now Advantages, and Detect Invisible is a skill (IQ, Very Hard). Combat has no core changes, but HP totals are twice HT instead of just HT. There are also a bunch of options added. Some of those work and some are broken - especially any that might feel like "Rule of Cool" or "badass special ops" tactics. The book is about 1/3 longer than the GURPS 2nd corebook just because of those. None are marked as optional. In fact, unlike GURPS, DORK has no particular directions about what's considered core and what's considered optional. It really feels like people are supposed to use absolutely every rule.

Art is pretty sparse. I'm not sure where it came from, since there are no credited artists. I suspect the writer was also the artist. It's... ok. They at least have a basic grasp of anatomy, if not how to make it look like anything's in movement.

The game is credited to "The Dork Lord" rather than a games company. It was printed in softcover by a printing company that I sure hope has gone out of business, because the only copies of this I've ever seen were in three-ring binders after the softcover's binding failed. By the time this book had been published, GURPS 3rd had been out for over two years, and DORK disappeared with barely a ripple.

[the-wizard-challenge]

The Wizard Challenge

If you're like me and you have both an unquenchable thirst for roleplaying games and executive dysfunction, then you might also find yourself in a similar headspace of getting distracted and not tackling tasks that are necessary for the average functional civilian.

So, I decided to use my favorite pastime (coming up with D&D characters that I'll never use) as a way to help me motivate myself and trick myself into adopting better habits and routines in the coming year.

I didn't make any major new years resolutions for 2023 other than "do the the damn thing," and generally get around to all the things I should get done. My mental illness often inhibits me from getting into the correct state of mind where I feel motivated enough to start something, much less finish it.

And then I got to thinking, what if I could give myself XP for actually finishing tasks I set out to do? What If I could fuel my motivation with my inherent desire for escapism?

As a millennial with mental illness, I've seen motivational plans and tips like this a hundred times before, and have always felt pretty meh about them or fallen off early. Since I thought of this concept, however, I haven't been able to get it out of my head. Might as well give it a shot!

I first turned to D&D 5e, the TTRPG system I'm most familiar with. It's easy to grasp, and there's tons of materials available online.

Then I started going down the rabbit hole that is creating a character concept, which is my favorite part of starting any game. But I also had to think of how I would apply my task management and routine-building.

I decided to pick a Wizard for my class. Because one of my general goals is to read more often, Wizard felt like a good option; any time I finish a book, I can treat it as a spell and add it to my wizard's spellbook.

I've been playing a lot of Potionomics and I adore the design for Luna, a moth girl with a talent for marketing. I picked Fairy for my wizard's ancestry, and got to work designing a moth-ish Wizard baby. Her name is Phalena, she enjoys green tea, and I'm aiming for her subclass to be Order of Scribes.

Then I sat down to think over how certain tasks and goals should be calculated in terms of experience. I didn't want to make things too easy on myself, so I factored in the idea that most D&D groups are about 4-6 players on average. I looked up some basic enemy stats for 5e (specifically, low CR enemies) and used that to build up my own system.

Basically, everyday tasks like doing laundry, washing dishes, or picking up groceries are equal to low-level monsters like zombies and skeletons (challenge rating 1/4). These are things that must be done, but can still be difficult to accomplish.

The total experience points awarded for defeating a zombie is 50 xp. As I said, though, you'll typically be playing D&D with at least 2 other people. Taking into account a 5-person party, that 50 xp is divided into 10 xp each.

Considering that the average time to actually start and finish one of these tasks is relatively low (15 to 30 minutes being the range), the trick that made the most sense to me was to take the total time in minutes it took to finish something and multiply it by 2 to get my total xp.

The original idea was to just multiply the minutes by 10, which would get me roughly around the average amount of xp in an encounter. For example, washing the dishes would be 150 xp. But if I'm trying to keep my numbers more in line with regular D&D sessions, that number would have to be split 5 ways to account for companions that I would surely need to overcome these encounters.

I mean, we all know how squishy wizards are. Let's be realistic.

So, the system became # of minutes a task takes to start and finish x 2. This also accounts for more arduous and draining tasks like studying or a workout session, which take longer, to have a proportional reward.

I'll be real right now: I haven't ironed out absolutely everything yet. I already have lots of ideas for other things I want to try. For example, I'm currently studying for specific certification that is in my field of work. Rather than just tallying up all experience points from studying sessions and taking the test, I also want to treat it like a side quest for a magic item - maybe a flying broomstick or an upgraded spellbook.

I also have thoughts about how rests should be treated, if I should think of those as self care activities. Maybe activities that I like that should be more moderated like playing video games can be seen as spell slots or once-per-long-rest abilities.

There's a lot of mechanics in 5e I could potentially incorporate other than just xp and new spells, but I feel like this is a good foundation for what I'm trying to do.

I also wanted to share this on Tumblr because I know there are others like me who may or may not find this interesting, and also 2023 is the year of the wizard as I understand it.

I want to be able to sketch my wizard and share her soon, but in the mean time I've already racked up some xp in the past couple days that I'm itchin to log.

[eldritchamy]

I haven’t seen this part make it to tumblr yet, but we literally know the person who ran the site to be Kevin Lowry, a member of Patriot Front.

If you’re unfamiliar with the group, here’s the first paragraph of their wiki page:

Patriot Front is an American white nationalist and neo-fascist hate group.[7] Part of the broader alt-right movement, the group split off from the neo-Nazi organization Vanguard America in the aftermath of the Unite the Right rally in 2017.[1][8][9][10] Patriot Front's aesthetic combines traditional Americana with fascist symbolism. Internal communications within the group indicated it had approximately 200 members as of late 2021.[11] According to the Anti-Defamation League, the group generated 82% of reported incidents in 2021 involving distribution of racist, antisemitic, and other hateful propaganda in the United States, comprising 3,992 incidents, in every continental state.[12]

Keven Lowry specifically, according to twitter, also ran Nazi roleplay servers on GMOD. He got caught as the person behind the fake estrogen website because his name was on a paypal associated with it.

Also, here’s the site going mask off shortly before it was shut down:

[ID: a picture of the front page of the Estrolabs website with a popup in the site’s own color scheme and design saying “Did our gas station HRT pill give you male pattern baldness?” with a link that says “Join the lawsuit”. End ID]

[ID: a screenshot from a store page in the Estrolabs website selling an “Oops! All Testosterone!” T-shirt for $24.95. The shirt is black with a graphic designed to look like a colorful breakfast cereal of the same name. End ID]

So yeah. The site existed for about a week, had fake testimonials dating back months, was almost certainly created to build a hit list of vulnerable trans women, the pills themselves were designed to forcefully detransition and ultimately probably kill you, and it was run by a nazi associated with one of the most prolific (in terms of resulting incidents, despite their ~230 member size) white supremacist hate groups in America.

This tweet from @demi_theynd sums it up nicely:

The fallout of the fake hrt supplements is so funny "surely trans women aren't terminally online, well-connected with each other and familiar with how internet hate campains work aaaaaand it's been 48 hours and they know my address"

This site has been going around Twitter trans accounts quite a bit lately, so just pointing out here too that it'll do fuck all, they're exploiting trans people at a time when hrt is particularly hard to access and please don't give them your money

[halcyonmine]

hello! i'm really excited about what i'm seeing here so far! i'm familiar with wcrp and have had some friends who played in paradise campaigns. will this project have aspects of one or the other? both? or is it something completely new? thank you!

Hello!

Thank you so much for your interest, it means a lot to me!! I'm not sure that I know what a paradise campaign is, but Halcyon Mine will be based on a TTRPG! There's a set beginning and end point of the story, and little events called 'trials' to help set the tone and keep interest high as the group goes on their journey. It's an adventure in the scope of what, say, a dungeons and dragons campaign may be, with the simple caveat that all the characters are cats!

In terms of WCRP, there may or may not be cameos of Clans in the actual roleplay, but mostly the Clan life will be restricted to backgrounds. That being said - if your character comes from a Clan background, it may influence how they handle the way the world has changed, and how they approach the trials as they partake! This is why I'm tagging it with the WCRP tag - that, plus I feel like there are a lot of people whose interests would likely overlap if they're already interested in Warriors!

I hope this answered your question! The TLDR is that I'm hoping for something that feels new and fresh, but with enough familiarity that people feel comfortable hopping in with both feet :) If you have any more questions please don't be shy!

[lackadaisicalnereid]

riverdale rewatch s01e03 body double

I was sorta on my way to doing another of my usual rewatch writeups but I caught up in my own thoughts, so we're doing this one differently.

This is the first episode on the rewatch where I'm inclined to treat Riverdale as a serious show, and it's mostly cause of Betty and the getting revenge for Veronica/Polly all the shamed girls plotline. Slut-shaming, as we all know, is a real thing and sure makes me happy I was never much exposed to it as a teen girl and, within Riverdale's capabilities, it does get Serious Treatment. But it also, at the same time, exposes Riverdale's limitations for doing any of this work for real. To quote a wiser person than I am, @deadgirlsupremacy, from our convo like years ago, comparing Twin Peaks and Riverdale:

Twin Peaks is absurd because it's making sense of absurd emotions like grief and trauma where Riverdale is absurd without necessarily any consequence

and that is still how I feel about Riverdale. Twin Peaks takes three seasons and a movie to basically say 'look at what this one murder can do' and despite the soap-operaness of it all, it treats the damn thing seriously. Bobby's funeral monologue of 'we all killed Laura' is the perfect example of it, but the whole show lives and breathes the idea of how this murder was horrible and how everyone was involved in it and how everyone now suffers the consequences. And then there's Riverdale. Even when it tries to be serious and deal with a serious topic seriously, the way it makes that work involves getting Cheryl to go from staunch defender of her brother and 'protector' of the ruling football elite to equally staunch supporter of the girls and their revenge in a scene, basically, with seemingly no actual consequence in terms of, ok, but what does this mean for Cheryl and what was obviously the most important relationship of her life, the one with her brother Jason? Her words say 'maybe I never knew my brother at all', and she's apologetic to Betty and present when Betty goes to burn the boys' playbook (where they keep score of their conquests) but apart from this being a good visual, it's not much else than that? It does not actually want to deal with consequences of things, it wants to have fun memorable scenes and to play with stuff. And that's okay. But it's not, well, serious? IDK. Will have to put more thought into this.

Other thoughts:

Love the first appearance of Dark Betty and love that she's an excellent femme fatale when she wants to act like one? Usually 'good girls' are presented as 'not capable of performing seduction'. Betty's so good at it when she's roleplaying, which just means it's her choice NOT to perform this sort of femininity otherwise, which makes for a more interesting character, imho.

Also, Jughead!?

'If print journalism is dead, what am I doing here?' self-seriously delivered by the one and only Jughead.

When he starts saying the quote, he's offscreen and we're looking at the pinboard at the Blue & Gold, and he's doing his whole Twilight Zone voiceover voice, but then we pan to him leaning against the doorframe of the soon to be familiar space of the Blue & Gold office in Riverdale High, and he'speaking like Jughead. Not only is the line deliciously dramatic, and the delivery is great, and the line is so on point for Jughead, it also marks the kick off for the Jughead/Betty child detective journalists squad, which honestly in my memory is so charming it carries a solid amount of weight in s1.

Later in the same scene he's (again, self-seriously, so on brand, you gotta love it, Sprouse is really putting his whole pussy into this) calling his novel-in-the-making about Jason Blossom's murder 'Riverdale's own In Cold Blood', which (a) just marry Veronica, will you already? and (b) is so pretentious, I can't not love it.

also he does this while doing this:

It's exactly this mixture of self-serious and pretentious and referential and self-referential that makes Riverdale exactly what it is, which is decidedly not Twin Peaks, but it's also unlike anything else, so you gotta appreciate it.

Also: is that a Dog Day Afternoon poster in Archie's bedroom? If so, I have no idea what to do with that.