#I think these were put as text on the film's website

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇

pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader

genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 9k

summary: Joel, only now starting to feel the impending sense of loneliness, decides to listen to Tommy and sign up on an online streaming service called Ravish.

warnings: joel is bi in this, sex toys, paddles, nipple clamps, pillow humping, self-spanking, female/male masturbation, piv, dirty talking, possesive!joel, cum eating, oral (female receiving), size kink

additional warning: alright so there is a short moment in this where reader smacks herself with a paddle that has a heart-shaped hole and gets a heart mark on her skin, I don't use any descriptions (like calling it red or pink etc) but I'm also not oblivious enough to think everyone would get a mark when getting spanked so I wanted to let you know in case that would put you off and wouldn't want to read and that's completely fine!

a/n: this definitely ended up being longer then it needed it to be bfgbfg I want to take the anon who requested this, and the rest of you who chimed in and voted on the polls. I hope you all enjoy 💜 oh, also a special thanks to @missredherring who gave the idea of a more in-depth reason as to why Joel likes honeysuckle flowers 👀

edit!!! this has more than one part now! click here for the masterlist

Joel was lonely. 

He hadn’t really thought about it until Sarah went off to college. 

Since the day she was born, he had one thing and one thing on his mind only—to give his little girl everything that he could and make her happy. The rest didn’t concern him. He didn’t really care about dating, he didn’t have the time to think about how lonely he was. He had been on a couple of dates, all of which were initiated by Sarah as she entered her teenage years, pleading with him to go out and have a life.

But now that she was gone, studying what she always wanted to study and being happy, the emptiness began to spread like a nasty infection. Every creak and groan of the house sounded like mockery to him. He started keeping the TV open all night, most of the time falling asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night startled by sudden shouts from a randomly playing film or show. He hated it. This wasn’t how Joel imagined his golden years to be like. 

Maybe that’s why he decided to use the damn website. Ravish. He’d heard it from Tommy first —which was an uncomfortable conversation as one could imagine— and after that, he kept on hearing the name. 

Ravish 

Ravish 

Ravish 

It was like a shitty pop song, stuck between his teeth like toffee, impossible to get rid of. The name made a home in his brain, making its presence known whenever he was doing anything, no matter how mundane the task was. 

Ultimately, he gave in. What was the worst that could happen? 

Joel groans. He stares at the screen with his brows drawn tightly together, the text cursor blinking as it waits for him to type out a username. It’s been almost ten minutes. A brief thought of asking Tommy passes through his mind but he quickly pushes the thought away and leans over the keyboard. 

JMiller. That should be alright. He doesn’t need anything fancy, and J can be any name. It can be Jack, Jacob, Jonathan, John, Jeremy. There are a bunch. Besides, Miller is a pretty common last name, so if someone asks if he's JMiller, he can just deny it. Not that anyone would. Everyone would be too busy jerking off to pretty people. The last thought anyone would have would be of him. 

He quickly decides on his password and he’s immediately overwhelmed. There are too many things happening at once. His eyes widen, heart beating a bit too fast as he moves his mouse around. In the corner, there’s a little pop-up begging for his attention, and on the screen, there are multiple thumbnails of women and men. When he drags his mouse over a thumbnail it starts moving and he jumps. 

“Holy hell,” he mutters. “I’m in way over my head.” 

Joel gets up to pour himself a glass of whiskey. After that, he sits on the couch again and takes three deep breaths. The ice clicks together as he takes a swig, the amber liquid pleasantly burning as it goes down his throat. He looks around some more, looking for the profiles that pique his interest the most. 

While he scrolls, he sees one of a man with the username NicolasCageFreak, which he finds odd, but the man is pleasing to the eye with soft brown curls and natural honey highlights in between. The man has a small bullet vibrator pressed against his hard length, a cock ring at the base of it. Joel presses like and saves it for later. 

Joel has to remind himself a couple of times that the people who stream can’t actually see him. The more he scrolls the more relaxed he feels. There’s a woman with pretty green eyes he saves for later and another man with the username CammingBravo. He has his face hidden, Joel can see the red ribbon circling the back of his head as he bends over, granting the viewers a delicious sight of his ass that has a shiny buttplug. 

Liked! Added to your queue for later.

Until now Joel was fairly certain he was straight, sometimes he’d get the occasional same-sex dream but he figured everyone did at some point in their lives. He’s not so sure anymore. 

Some more scrolling and Joel starts getting restless. His cock strains against his sweatpants, aching for his rough touch. He takes a deep breath. The next live stream he sees that he likes he��ll click and that will be that. He’s starting to get worked up and, unlike NicolasCageFreak, he’s not a fan of edging himself. 

Then he sees her. A woman wearing a delicate chain vest with rhinestones that sparkle whenever she moves. His eyes flit to the username; Honeysuckle. He loves that flower, he has many memories of picking them with Tommy and sucking the sweet nectar hidden inside. He wonders if she tastes just as sweet. 

Not one to break a promise to himself, Joel clicks on the thumbnail. His eyes are instantly drawn to the live chat. There are so many people asking her to do something all at once—Jesus Christ. There are also a couple of them just chatting as if they were friends with her. He sees that everyone calls her Honey, which is fitting and a bit on the nose, he thinks. 

Noticing that he has the stream muted, Joel unmutes it, a pleasant tingle running down his spine as soon as her voice comes through the speakers of his laptop. 

“Wow, Eric47 I’m so happy you got that promotion!” 

“Don’t worry everyone, I’ve been thinking naughty thoughts all day and I’m ready to put on a show.” 

“Patience everyone.” 

“Thank you for buying a private chat, SarahBelieves! I can’t wait to be your good girl. . .” 

Joel is too focused on her tone, the smooth lilt of her voice, to hear the words she’s saying. The only thing his ears pick up on is the words private and chat. He wasn’t aware you could buy some extra time with the streamers. He loves that—

He shakes his head. Loves? Is he already planning on paying? At the thought, his cock twitches with interest, his reserve quickly crumbling to the floor. 

Joel decides to focus on the stream first. He can decide later on if he wants a private session or not. He cups himself through the soft fabric of his sweatpants, groaning as a spike of relief shoots through him. His eyes are glued to the screen. Honey’s hard nipples poke through the chains, her hands delicately kneading the tender mounds as she rises slightly by lifting herself onto her knees. She’s on a bed, wearing black panties and a matching garter. Joel’s mouth waters. The things he would do to her. . . 

His tongue pokes from between his lips, soft tendon moving with muscle memory as he thinks of eating her sweet cunt out. 

“Today my sweet bees,” she addresses them. “I was thinking of fucking myself with the biggest dildo I’ve got, how does that sound?” 

Joel’s eyes drift to the chat. Everyone seems to be cheering and asking her to show them how much she can take. There’s also a bunch of them calling her their favorite size queen. She chuckles. 

“I love all dicks, in any shape or form,” she purrs. “I’m just in the mood for a bit of pain.” 

Pain. That captures Joel’s attention. It makes him curious about all the other things she might be into. Perhaps she enjoys getting spanked, or she would enjoy the feeling of someone dragging their nails down her pretty back. He wants to know. He wants his imaginary scenarios to be as accurate as possible. 

He’s about to pull out his cock when he hears her voice again. 

“I do have one question though,” she says innocently. “Should I keep these pretty black panties on or off?” she grins into the camera, her eyes shining with mirth. “Let’s see those answers, my bees.” 

What do you want? Joel wants to ask. But this isn’t that kind of scenario so he thinks. The answers come flying in, there’s a fifty-fifty ratio. Joel’s mind blanks for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching. He wants her to keep them on. He likes the idea of her sliding them to the side and fucking herself deep, it feels more animalistic, more raw. He enjoys the idea of claiming someone, a curiosity he hasn’t yet fully explored yet. 

He types exactly that. His wording and grammar a bit too neat compared to the rest, but he gives Honey his answer. He wants her to keep it on. Maybe play with herself some more until the fabric is basically see-through, then she can fuck herself with the biggest cock she’s got. 

Joel watches intently as her eyes go over the live chat, there are so many answers coming in, he doubts she’ll see his comment. Still, he likes to believe she’ll see it. 

Honey’s eyes still briefly, hunger swirling in them as a canine sinks into her bottom lip. Her smile is bashful and shy, much different than the character she’s playing. Her eyes move back to the camera. Joel watches her breasts as her chest heaves, nipples grazing against the cool metal. 

“Well, well, JMiller. . . you certainly have a mouth on you,” she tuts and Joel’s eyes go wide. The satisfaction he feels leads to goosebumps coursing over his burning skin, being noticed. . . it’s surprisingly thrilling. “Are you new? I haven’t seen your handle before.” 

Joel swallows, his hands shaking as he types in a quick “yea”, Honey smiles, “Welcome to the hive then, baby. Keep the comments up,” she sighs, cupping both her tits. “I love a man who knows how to dirty talk.” 

A knot forms in his throat, his skin tight. He wasn’t expecting to be this affected. Now he understands why so many people enjoy live streams. They don’t see you, not actually, but still, it almost fills the void. Almost. He’s excited now, eager to type in more of his thoughts, eager to hear her answer him. Joel pulls out his cock, the waistband of his sweats hugging his thighs. He gives himself a firm tug, his spine straightening at the burn gathering in his lower stomach. It feels fucking good. 

“Since it’s J’s first time, and because he got me all hot and bothered, why not leave the panties on for this time?” Honey says. Joel observes the chat, there are a lot of congratulatory messages addressed to him, welcoming him. He doesn’t care. “You want to see these panties soaked, huh? You guys know how much I love making a mess.” 

Honey shimmies back, revealing more of her bare legs. She spreads them for the camera, the soft sound of delicate metal filling the air whenever she moves. Her fingers start to move lazily over her clothed clit, her head falls. Joel can see a subtle dark patch growing, his own hand starting to move slowly up and down his throbbing cock. A drop of precum dribbles down, easing the glide of his rough palm. She doesn’t look at the chat as frequently as she did before, too focused on her pleasure. Her glossy lips part and her eyes scrunch up. Her moans are loud and breathy, signs that she lives alone. 

Joel doesn’t think as he fists himself. Normally when watching porn he would think; he would think of a scenario, or what he would be doing differently, or the things he would want to do. This is different. He’s just watching, inhaling what’s being given to him. He sucks a sharp breath, his hand moving faster, the side of his fist smacking against his pelvis, dark curls damp under his palm. 

“Fuck,” Honey moans, eyes peering toward the screen. Her fingers move faster, her hips grinding to meet the graze of her palm. Joel groans, his eyes rolling back into his skull. “I think I’m going to come,” he breathes out. “Should I?” 

Joel doesn’t bother with typing until he hears his alias. 

“JMiller, since you’re new the decision is yours. Should I? P-Please answer,” she sounds desperate, her hips rutting the air as she presses her fingers hard against her clit. “O-Or do you want me to come on your cock?” 

Joel’s hips stutter, filling the tightness of his fist, “Fuckin’ hell.” 

With sticky fingers he types his answer, telling her that she should come with his cock deep inside her. Joel also adds that he wants to hear her, telling her to be loud. 

“O-Okay,” she whines, almost tearful as she reaches to grab her dildo off-screen. Joel can’t help the grin that makes its way across his face. He types again, telling her not to cry and that she’ll be coming soon enough. When he presses enter, he notices that his name is highlighted in dark orange. “You’re kind of an asshole,” she answers playfully. “I like that.” 

You're the buzzing heartbeat of Honeysuckle’s live stream! You are picked by the streamer as the treasured Drone Bee, your unwavering loyalty and vibrant energy create an electrifying atmosphere. Your presence is a key ingredient in making the honey even sweeter! 

A growl echoes in his throat when Honey shows the camera the dildo she had picked out. She wasn’t kidding when she said it was her biggest. It’s bigger than his own dick, and Joel is by no means a small man. He squeezes his cock and looks down, with a sudden need growing in his chest, he purses his lips and lets a long trail of saliva drip between his lips. He shudders when it reaches the head of his cock. He swipes his palm over it and continues to stroke himself, he wants to come. 

He wants them to come at the same time. 

Honey pushes the dildo in slowly, giving her viewers a clear sight of what’s happening. The toy stretches her wide, the ache of it pulling a gasp from her pretty lips. Joel breathes heavily, his nostrils flaring as his hand speeds up. 

Oh, how he would love to be the one fucking slowly into her, to hear those little gasps coming from her in person rather than his shitty speakers. He holds his breath. It’s buried fully inside of her now. She slowly looks down, her eyes looking directly into the camera. 

“I hope the view down there is good,” she says with a smirk. Joel doesn’t type anything. He focuses on the way his cock drools for her, aches to be buried in her cunt. Honey pulls out the toy until it’s only the tip that’s inside and then shoves it all in one smooth thrust. She cries out, her voice unfiltered. Joel’s stomach jumps at the sound, his pupils dilating like a wolf seeing its prey for the first time. 

She fucks herself hard, whimpering and crying out every time she fuck herself deep. Joel sees the way the plastic surface shines with her slick, he bets she tastes fucking sweet. 

He knows she’s close when her thighs begin to shake—he also knows thanks to the live chat going completely berserk, cheering her on and telling her to squirt. Joel, despite her own release close enough that he can taste it, rolls his eyes. 

“This one is for you JMiller,” she whimpers and Joel’s eyes go wide, his cock pulsing in his wet fist. “Hope you’re gonna fall down the edge with me, big guy.”  

Joel doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until she’s coming—she does so with a loud moan, her cunt fluttering around the large cock. Her head falls back completely, giving a clear view of her heaving chest, nipples fully erect under the see-through armor. 

His fall from grace is less pretty. He lets out a grunt, his hips fucking into his hand helplessly as come spurts from the slit, it’s almost painful. His heart beats aggressively while he tries hard to keep his focus on the screen, he doesn’t want to miss anything. Joel makes a mess of himself and his surroundings, the rug underneath his socked feet stained with his release. 

 Joel’s cock stops throbbing and with a pleased sigh, his shoulders drop. 

“That felt fuckin’ goood,” he groans, staring blankly at the ongoing live stream. Vaguely he notices Honey pulling the toy out, an equally fucked out expression on her face. The live chat is still going wild, he manages to lean over and type in one last sentence before going offline. 

Good girl. 

Joel is a weak weak man. 

Watching Honey quickly became a routine for him. She would start streaming around the same time he would come back from work and it was the perfect way to let off some steam. Tommy had asked if he checked out Ravish, to which Joel promptly said no. He didn’t need his baby brother making fun of him. 

Besides, some primal part of him didn’t want Tommy to know about Honey. It’s an odd thought, he realizes, since she’s enjoyed by many many people. Still, he didn’t have an explanation for what he was feeling. 

Once she had brought in a guest, and his body had immediately rejected it. He was ready to close the stream and head to the bathroom for a quick shower—however, he stopped when he noticed who the guest was; CammingBravo. Another streamer who had caught Joel’s attention when he was scrolling through the endless amount of entertainers for the first time. He watched Honey eat out his tight little asshole, then he watched Bravo fuck her senseless, making her soak the sheets. 

Joel never came that hard in his life before— It was exhilarating. He tipped handsomely that night and Honey mentioned how JMiller was one of her best viewers. Bravo’s smile, which was surprisingly kind, was infectious. 

He would be lying if he said his chest didn’t puff up a little. 

And, of course, he ended up buying a private chat with her after that. He just had to. It would just be this one time, he told himself, just one hour without the live chat. Just him and her. 

He turns on the laptop, already knowing that he’s kidding himself. There’s no way this will be a one-time thing. He’s too. . . smitten to leave it with one private chat. 

Maybe he can limit himself to once a month. That seems reasonable. 

The familiar website of Ravish loads and he clicks on the little gray person in the corner. He finds the section that’s titled “private chats” and clicks. Her username, Honeysuckle, pops up. On the screen, it says she’ll be with him shortly. 

A minute later the screen goes black and her face comes into view. She’s wearing a pink see-through bra with strawberries on it, Honey’s smile is bright as she looks into the camera.  

“Hi there J!” she greets him, his stomach warms at the sound of her voice. “This is your first time doing a live chat right?” 

He nods absent-mindedly while typing. Honey reads his answer and gives him an empathetic look. 

“Okay, so you don’t have to show your face—obviously—but if you want you can click the tiny microphone in the corner and talk to me directly. But if that’s also too much you can continue to type what you want me to do.” 

Joel’s eyebrows raise. Talk to her. . . with his actual voice? The thought both excites and sends cold fear down his spine. What would he even say? What if she doesn’t like the sound of his voice? 

“Are you there?” her voice comes through. “Is everything alright?” 

His fingers tense and rigid, Joel types in the questions that swirl in his head. Luckily the questions sound cheeky without any tone indicators so Honey smiles, her eyes narrowing while her lips curl seductively. 

“You can say anything you want, big boy,” she licks her lips. “And don’t worry about your voice, I’m yours for the hour. You might as well have the most shrill voice in the world, I would still tell you how sexy you sound.” 

You always call me that. Why?  . . .  Also, it doesn’t make me feel any better when you say you’ll tell me how good I sound regardless but I get what you mean. 

Joel aggressively chews the smooth inside of his cheek. Honey reads his messages, a grin stretching across her beautiful face, “Let’s just say streamer’s intuition,” she winks. “As for the other thing, I mean that you don’t need to worry. I doubt you have the most shrill voice in the world.”  she thinks over her words before adding. “Of course, it’s up to you. If you don’t want to use voice chat that’s completely fine.” 

 Joel sighs, his curser hovering over the tiny microphone. Closing his eyes, he clicks. 

“Can—Can you hear me?” 

Her eyes sparkle. 

“Crystal clear,” she answers with a wide smile. “You sound hot.” 

She sounds genuinely impressed. Joel can’t help but chuckle with the shake of his head. “Don’t sound so surprised but thanks, I think?” 

“Oh it’s definitely a compliment,” she says rolling her tongue. “Is there anything you want me to call you or should I just call you J?” 

There’s a brief moment where he thinks of just telling her his name but he bites his tongue at the very last moment. His heart does a little jump when he answers, “You can call me. . . sir.” 

“Understood, sir,” she repeats, her voice dripping with lust. A shudder crawls up his spine and he has to brace himself by holding his knees. “There is also a matter of safewords, I don’t do everything as I’m sure you don’t as well. Red is for stop, yellow is for slow down and green is for go. I think that’s the simplest one but if you want to use a different word I’m okay with that.” 

Joel blinks before answering, “Uh, yeah sounds good.” 

“Also the website doesn’t allow screen recordings—which I appreciate— so you can’t film these sessions in any way. I’m just letting you know because no one reads the terms of service and one client was very unhappy when he got a cease and desist.”

“I. . . okay, I wouldn’t even think of it.” 

She smiles and Joel’s heart feels a bit lighter, “Good,” with the rules established, a sense of relaxation washed over both of them. “So, do you have anything planned for me?” 

Joel clears his throat as a warning and her eyes glimmer with amusement. 

“Sorry,” she breathes heavily. “Did you have anything planned for me, sir?” 

“Would you laugh if I said no?” 

“Sir, I would never laugh at you,” she pouts, brows turning upward. Momentarily she looks off screen and when her eyes find the lens again she smiles giddily.  “Would you want me to show you the toys I think you’ll like?” 

Joel smiles at how genuinely excited she sounds, it’s hard to remind himself that this is all an act and that this is her job. He wants this to be real. He wants her to actually be excited to show him all the things she wants him to use. 

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he answers not missing the way her lips part with a soft gasp. “Show me what you got.” 

Honey shows him a handful of her toys. She has a lot. Dildos of various sizes, vibrators, nipple clamps, kegel balls, anal plugs, anal beads, floggers, collars, paddles. . . she might as well have an entire sex shop in her room. Joel takes mental notes of all of them to use during their next sessions.  

“Anything that you like, sir?” 

“The paddle,” he murmurs, feeling a bit flustered now that they’re actually getting into it. “The one with the heart-shaped hole and. . . the nipple clamps—” 

“The heart-shaped ones?” 

Joel swallows thickly, “Y—Yeah.” 

“No need to be shy, sir,” she grins. “It’s only you and me.” Honey picks out the toys Joel requested and raises an eyebrow while her gaze searches the pile. “So, no dildos? Or vibrators?” 

“I . . . had somethin’ else in mind, if that’s alright.” 

“Ohhhh, a mystery,” she purrs, winking into the camera. “I love it, sir.” 

Honey is slow to rid herself of her bra, sliding one arm out and then the other before moving both hands to the back to unclasp herself free of the dainty fabric. Her chest nears the camera, giving him a full view of her fully erect nipples. Joel’s breathing grows heavier by the second. He can feel his cock stiffen, pleasure stirring in his gut. He quickly kicks off his shorts, leaving himself bare on the couch as he watches her secure the clamps over each nipple. She lets out a tiny sigh of bliss, pulling her arms back and planting her palms firmly against the mattress, she shows her newly decorated nipples. 

Joel groans and wraps his hand around his cock. She does a little wiggle, the soft sound of bells making his cock twitch. 

“Are you touching yourself, sir?” 

“Yea.” 

“Good, I want to hear you get off,” she quickly adds. “Sir.” 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweet thing,” his eyes flutter closed as his fist moves down, and he opens them back up after giving himself a firm squeeze. “Turn around,” he grunts. “And don’t forget the paddle.” 

She does as she’s told, which in return gives Joel an immense sense of control and satisfaction. Precome drips down his length, he uses it to lube himself further, paying extra attention to be loud for her. Just like she wanted. 

His eyes follow the movement of the paddle, she drags it over the right cheek of her ass, caressing her skin. Her panties disappear between the crease of her gorgeous ass, leaving little to the imagination. “Is this okay, sir?” she asks, her voice thick. “Am I being a good girl?” 

Goosebumps rise over his skin. He’d called her, wrote to her, good girl after every stream—his smirk is laced with something dark when he realizes that she must’ve enjoyed it. 

“You’re being very good,” he answers. “Now hit yourself with it, I want to see a heart tattooed on that pretty flesh of yours.” 

“Southern man into branding, why am I not surprised?” she purrs and lifts her ass closer the camera. “You like seeing your pretty girl all marked up by her owner?” 

Fuck. 

“Don’t get full of yourself,” he orders, adding a bit more venomous tone to his voice. Honey stills, and briefly Joel worries he’d overstep. He stops breathing, not wanting to miss even the smallest hint of the safeword. 

But then she shudders, hitting herself lightly with the paddle. “How’s this, sir?” she says, her lilt indicating that she’s highly aware it isn’t enough. 

“Harder.” 

She spanks herself harder, her body jolting. Joel can hear the bells. He circles the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb, groaning as he makes himself more comfortable on the couch. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you’re listenin’,” he inhales slowly, enjoying the way her muscles tense. “I want to see those hearts on your skin. I thought this was supposed to be a show.” 

“Y-Yes, sir.” 

He loves how breathy her voice has gotten. Heat licks the base of his spine, his cock begging for release. 

She raises the paddle, smacking her plump meat much harder than before. Her asscheek ripples and Joel can finally see a faint trace of a shape. But it’s not clear enough to be a decent heart. “Again,” he orders. 

It takes about six to nine times before the heart takes shape on her skin. She’s whimpering, tremors moving up and down her body as she fights the urge to collapse. She loves seeing his mark there, she might’ve placed herself, but it was his doing and he revels in it. 

“Good,” he says, swallowing thickly. “Good fuckin’ girl. Lookin’ so pretty for me.” 

“S-Sir,” she mutters. Joel doesn’t know what to expect until her hand comes between her legs, sliding the thin line of her panties to the side. Her cunt is a sopping mess. Joel leans further towards the screen, his tongue licking the roof of his mouth. “Do you see how wet I am? P-Please, I want to come—Can I, sir?” 

“Fuck, ‘course you can,” his neck feels warm, burning almost. “Turn around, grab one of them pillows behind you.” 

“P-Pillow?” 

She sounds dazed, Joel almost feels bad for her, almost. “Yes sweetheart, pillow,” he coos. “I want you to grind that pretty cunt against it. . . honey.” 

“Shit, say that again.” 

“Honey,” he groans again, his hips thrusting into the air, burying himself deep into his fist. His voice drops further as he begins to chant, “Honey, honey, honey, honey—” 

She visibly clenches at that, her entire body tight with arousal. With shaky hands, she brings the pillow between her thighs, straddling the soft cushion. Her head falls back as she gives it an experimental roll of her hips, Joel’s breath catches in his throat. She looks delectable. Her hands come up to her chest and tugs at the clamps, she jumps, a wanton moan echoing from the back of her throat. 

“You’re so worked up aren’t you?” Joel continues as she grinds herself further down, leaving a wet, darkened patch behind. He’s preaching to the choir. His own arousal drooling over his knuckles. He closes his eyes, allowing his mouth to roam free. “Stuff three fingers in your mouth, want you to choke darlin’.” 

With a whine, she nods and pushes three fingers between her lips. Joel smirks, “It ain’t nearly enough but at least you can get a feelin’ of how much my cock would stretch those pretty lips, honey,” he rasps. She shudders, her hips moving wildly over the pillow. “You love havin’ your mouth full don’t you?” 

“Yesh, sur,” she moans around her own fingers, she move acutely, and with every jerk of her hips, Joel can see her throbbing clit. He’s teetering on the edge of his release, heat pools between his legs, his balls go tight. 

“I’m gonna come, honey,” he groans, his tight shaking. “Come with me, show me how wet your get that pillow.” 

With a hint of mischief in her eyes, she loudly gulps around her fingers, giving Joel a clear few of her cunt before rolling her hips down against the smooth surface. His eyes go wide and before his brain can register the coil snapping, he spills over his hand. Heavy strings of come dripping down his hard throbbing length. He makes a choked sound as he tries to breathe in and out at the same time. Honey pulls out her fingers from her mouth and grins, her hands drop in front of her and she bounces up and down, mimicking the way she would ride him. 

The action manages to squeeze one last rope of come from him, his lungs collapse, his body burning. She comes right after, her thighs squeezing around each side of the pillow before gushing around it. Joel can see the shine as she continues to grind her hips. 

“Show me,” he pants, his next words quickly shifting into a growl. “Show it to me.” 

Licking her lips, Honey pulls the pillow from between her legs and shows it to him. His cock twitches with interest. “Wanna taste you,” he says without thinking. 

“Sadly technology hasn’t improved that much yet,” she answers. “But I’ll tell you this much,” she leans in and flattens her tongue against the soaked fabric. Joel’s jaw tightens, his molars digging together painfully. She moans. “I taste sweet. Like honey.” 

You hate visiting home. 

You hate the heat, the crowd, staying at a home where you’re still treated like a child when you haven’t been one for a long long time. But you didn't really have a choice when your dad hurt his leg, which meant that you had to help around with the tiny bookshop your family owned. It was a miracle that it was still standing, but people did love their old, dusty bookshops. You had to admit, you enjoyed the aura of the place.

Your mom had asked you to bring over two coffees before coming in, she opened up shop early which you were grateful for. Now that you were home, you didn’t have the luxury to do as many private calls as you wanted to. You still streamed late at night, keeping silent, your audience didn’t mind. They thoroughly enjoyed the whispering and the “we can’t be caught” act. You only indulged in one private session, a session that you couldn’t bare letting go of. 

JMiller. 

You thought a lot about what his real name might be. Jacob, Jeff, Jeremy. . . none of them felt right. It was disappointing because you wanted to scream his name when you had your hand between your legs. But since you couldn’t decide on a name, you whimpered a string of sirs over and over again. 

You eagerly counted down the hours until you could finally spend time with him. This was a funny thought on its own because you boasted about how professional you were. You kept things clear, not allowing for any miscommunication or—potentially—feelings. But there was just something about him that got your entire body yearning to hear his southern drawl. Maybe it was the nostalgia of it all. You did grow up in Austin after all. But still. It was odd how excited you got before going online. 

You briefly mentioned you were going back home, you didn’t tell him where, obviously, but you did tell him that there could be scheduling issues. He understood. 

Of course he did, he was perfect. 

Pulling yourself away from your thoughts, you impatiently drum your foot against the clean marble floors. This line is insane. You let out a groan, sending your mother a quick text that it might take you a while. A second later your phone buzzes with a thumbs-up emoji from her. You sigh again as you shove the phone down your back pocket, you hate waiting, it gets you anxious and even though you don’t have a boss that will yell at you, you don’t enjoy being late. 

Then, as if he popped out of the concrete like a weed, a man pushes himself between you and the other person that was waiting in line in front of you. 

Your heart races, your eyebrows knitting together, no way in hell are you going to allow someone to cut in line. 

“Hey,” you call out. The man ignores you and you tap his shoulder, he turns sharply, his eyes glaring daggers. “You can’t cut in line,” you say defensively. “You need to move to the back of the line.” 

“Look lady I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about I was always here.” 

“Ummmm, no you weren’t,” your chest heaves, heat rising to your cheeks. You don’t like confrontation—you’d do it, but you’d hate it. Your legs are already shaking slightly. “I’ve been staring at the pink paint stain on that guy’s shoulder for about half an hour so I know what I’m talking about.” 

He rolls his eyes, an ugly snarl taking shape, “Just leave it. I ain’t gonna budge. I have places to be.” 

“And the rest of us don’t?” you snort, eyebrows raised. He shrugs, makes a face, and turns his back to you once again. It takes you everything not to stomp your foot like an angry bull. 

You’ve had enough. You’re tired of the assholes of the word, you don’t care if you’re not allowed into the coffee shop ever again. Puffing up your chest, you open your mouth wide, ready to give this rude stranger a piece of your unfiltered mind. 

“You know what—” 

“Is that any way to treat a lady, moonshine?”  

You turn towards the source of the voice. It’s a man you’ve never seen before. He’s rugged looking, the salt and pepper in his beard endearing. He has a deep crease between his brows, his brown eyes dark as he stares down at the rude stranger. You take in the sight of his broad shoulders, thick neck—your heart does a little flip. You don’t know why but you’re drawn to the man, he has a nice voice. 

The man, however, isn’t as pleased as you. 

“What’s it to you? She your girlfriend?” 

You’re not but you kinda wish you were. 

“Get in the back of the line, I saw you cut in front of her.” 

The tension in the air is thick enough that you can cut it with a knife. You hold your breath, your lungs starting to burn as electricity crackles between the two men. Finally the asshole caves and sighs, going to the back of the line. You let out the breath you’ve been holding, your shoulders sagging with relief right after. 

“Thank you,” you say, your gaze finding the kind strangers. “I was right about to blow my lid before you stepped in.” 

He doesn’t answer and just continues to stare at you. Worry builds in your spine. Why isn’t he saying anything? His softened gaze flits across your face, taking in every detail before looking away. He pushes his hands down his pockets, looking almost boyish with the way he drops his gaze to the floor. 

“Don’t mention it,” he mutters. 

You raise an eyebrow. His voice still sounds familiar. Your curiosity getting the better of you, you shove the thoughts of familiarity into the back of your head and grace him with a wide smile. He blushes profusely, eyes slightly going wide, he takes a sharp inhale. 

“How about I pay for your coffee. . . or whatever you’re buying?” you ask. 

“You don’t have—” 

“I insist!” you chirp, glad that the line is finally moving. You extend your hand with enthusiasm, which he accepts a bit tentatively. Your smile never wavering, you tell him your name and an emotion akin to guilt washes over his eyes. He releases your hand, lips a tight, frigid line. “Is something wrong?” you ask. “You don’t like the name?” 

“N–No, it ain’t that,” he shifts from one leg to the other. You nearly look down, curious to see how tightly his jeans hug his muscular thighs. “I’m. . . Joel.” 

The world around you falls into a complete silence. Joel. Joel. Something electric and searing shoots up your spine, your lashes fluttering. Your heart starts beating a mile a minute but you’re not sure why. The only thing you do know is that this is a significant moment. An important moment. 

Your rake your brain for answers. 

Why? 

Why is it important? What piece are you missing to complete the puzzle? 

His lips break into a soft smile, he gestures towards the counter with his head. “We’re up.” 

“O-Oh, yeah,” you swallow, barely able to pull your gaze away from him. “Sorry.” 

You tell the kind barista your order and she writes it down on both your cups happily. The two of you move away from the line to wait for your drinks; a black coffee for your mom, a caramel macchiato for you, and an iced quad espresso for Joel. You raise an eyebrow. 

“I have a long day comin’,” he says with a small smile. “And I didn’t do much sleepin’ last night.” 

Your mind immediately flashes you memories of last night. Legs spread wide with two dildos stretching you, JMiller really enjoys it when you test your limits. Your pulse pounding in your skull, you look down. “Don’t I know it.” 

“You had a late night too?” there’s a teasing lilt to his tone. Your stomach churns and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. It looks like he’s about to say something else but the barista calls your name and both of you head towards the counter. He takes his death juice with a grateful smile, his demeanor more relaxed compared to when you introduced yourself.

“Thank you, honey. I appreciate it.” 

Oh shit. 

Shit shit shit shit. 

It is him. 

JMiller—J stands for Joel. 

Fuck. 

“You. . .” you begin, panic raising in your voice. “You’re. . .” 

He nods, “I think we both know why I didn’t sleep much last night,” he extends his hand again. “Huge fan by the way. You’re great and this is awkward as hell.” 

“It is,” you whisper. Still, you take his hand. “It is.” 

“You’ve never had someone come up to you on the street before?” he asks, curious. “I would assume you get recognized a lot.” 

“Not as much as you would think,” a cruel, humorless burst of laughter drops from your lips. “People don’t exactly want their partners to know they’re watching me. But if they’re alone yeah. . . sometimes they’ll say hi.” 

Or they’ll ask inappropriate questions and be weird about it but he doesn’t have to know that. 

Now that he’s mentioned you bumping into others, you’re not sure why it felt like the end of the world before. You feel embarrassed, flustered even, two emotions that a client shouldn’t be making you feel. 

“Well,” he breaks the silence, moving his jaw as he opens the door for you. “Thanks for the coffee.” 

“Technically you bought it.” 

“Right. . .” 

The two of you are out in the street now, staring at each other, contemplating what to say. He scratches the back of his head, then his fingers move to rub at his jaw. Arousal gathers between your thighs, it’s not your fault, now that you know that it’s him, your body acts accordingly. 

“Are we still on for tomorrow?” 

You still for a moment before answering, “Yeah.” 

He turns and leaves, you do the same, only in the opposite direction. 

After learning your name, Joel completely abandoned his rule of you calling him 'sir', making you moan his actual name as frequently as he could. His name stuck to your tongue. It might as well have been tattooed under your bottom lip. He was possessive in the way he asked, in some instances even begging for you to say it—and you fucking loved it. You loved this sick claim he had towards you now that you two had officially met. You loved how much more eager he was to see you make a sticky mess between your thighs. You love how cock dumb he made you feel without actually being there to fuck you himself. 

He even started doing his version of online aftercare. Mostly he would just talk, tell you about every-day things as you came down from your high. Or he would murmur a song. You never asked if he was a musician, he had a nice voice. 

It’s the beginning of the session and you’re getting ready. He says he enjoys watching the preparation you do for him so you decided to start streaming five minutes earlier, allowing him to watch. You really need him today. You had a rough day with an order mix-up, and your mom isn’t the best at dealing with mishaps. He clears his throat, which draws your attention to him. 

“Is something wrong?” you ask. 

“No no, everythin’ is fine, sweetheart. I just. . .” he sighs. “I want to ask somethin’.” 

“Ask away.” 

“Can we—Would you want to—” he groans in frustration and you start grinning. His frustrated pout is adorable. All you want to do is smooth the crease between his brows with your thumb and give him a kiss. 

“Joel Miller,” you tease, not missing the way his breath catches in your throat. “Are you asking me out on a date?” 

Oh god, you hope your intuition is right. If it isn’t this call is about to get really awkward. 

He flushes, eyes dropping as he nods. 

“Is that okay?” 

This is highly unprofessional, “More than okay. I’d love to go on a date with you.” 

His grin is infectious. 

“Good,” he lets out a breath then settles back against the couch. “Now show me those pretty tits, honey.” 

You can’t believe you’re actually in JMiller’s, aka Joel’s, home. 

The date had gone better than you expected. He was kind, charming, and chivalrous which were all qualities you haven’t seen for a while. Ever since you started streaming you hadn’t been on many dates and frankly, after a while, you purposefully avoided them. It just felt like asking for drama that you had no intention of dealing with. But Joel wasn’t like that. He could be blunt, a bit grumpy, yet also kind. He had taken you to one of his favorite pubs. Beers accompanied by the best jalapeno poppers you ever had equated to one of the finest dates you’ve ever had. 

He was a contractor, had a daughter in college, and a younger brother. His mother and father had passed a long time ago and ever since Sarah left, he’d been feeling lonely. He’d admitted shyly that that was the reason why he signed up on Ravish. He wanted company. 

You found it incredibly charming. 

As soon as Joel closes the door behind you two, you fall into each other’s arms. He kisses you with fervor, tongue slipping between your lips as he breathes you in at the same time. You feel him everywhere. Large hands squeezing your hips, waist, breasts—it’s intoxicating. You moan wantonly into his mouth, your lids falling when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like beer and you’re pretty sure you do too. 

Joel pushes you up against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs while you continue to chase his lips with an insatiable need. You can’t bear to be separated from him, not even for a second. He drags his lips down your neck, mouthing at your jugular, sharp teeth nipping the sensitive flesh. Your hips jerk to meet his and with a growl, he pins you back to the wall. 

“Don’t,” he grunts. “I’ve been waitin’ so long for this honey, so fuckin’ long.” 

Your lips curl, a challenge lingering in your eyes, “Show me then, big boy. Show me how bad you want to fuck your slut.” 

“Fuck,” he hisses, gripping your chin harshly and pulling you in for another kiss. Your teeth clink together, he pulls back just as quick, the muscle in his jaw twitches. “Fuck,” he breathes out again. “You have quite the mouth on you, darlin’.” 

You have no recollection of how the two of you clamored upstairs, stripping one another in a lustful haze. The time you realize you’re naked is when you feel the cool air of the room caressing your burning skin, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses down between your breasts, fingers eagerly working your nipples as he forces you to walk back until your back of your knees hit the bed and you fall. 

Not wanting to give in so easily, you wrap your fingers around his heavy cock. It juts angrily between his legs, answering your touch by drooling all over your palm, slickening your movements. You jerk him until he’s fully hard, his breathing heavy as he rolls his hips to meet the tightness of your fist. He sinks his teeth into your neck, the pain that blossoms coaxes a moan from you, your own wetness growing between your legs. 

“I knew you’d be fucking big,” you whisper, tongue toying with his earlobe. “So huge—makes me wonder if I can take it. . .” 

“I’ve seen you take bigger,” he groans, hips stuttering. A whimper drops from your lips, you want him, you want to feel him inside, want to feel his come dripping out later. You feel thick fingers spreading your soaked folds, he drags down a middle finger between them, licking himself into your mouth as he draws circles around your aching clit. “So wet for me,” he rasps. “Gonna make a mess in you, honey.” 

You gasp, “P-Please.” 

He lines himself against your entrance, teasing you, stretching you subtly with the bulbous head of his cock. Your head falls back and your back arches into him. He draws a hard nipple between his lips, closing them as he sucks. Heat rushes all over your body, arousal thick on your tongue. You clutch the sheets. He smiles as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch with a lax jaw and a dazed gaze. 

He stops and waits for you to adjust to him. Joel’s forehead drops against yours, dampness growing between the skin. You feel his breath fanning your face, so warm. There’s a hint of pain, the type that makes you flutter around him. He feels it too. The way you tighten against him, your body begging for more. He obliges. Pushing further and further until his hips are flushed against yours. His jaw is clenched tight, his breathing heavy. 

“Fuck you feel so good,” he presses fleeting kisses all over your face. It’s ticklish and if all your senses wasn’t narrowed in between your legs, you would’ve giggled. 

Your body jerks as he pulls back, the pleasure you feel is instant and overwhelming. You’ve missed the feeling of actual flesh inside of you. Joel snaps his hips forward, locking your breath in your throat, with a moment of desperation you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. He fucks you in earnest. Every thrust desperate. Every thrust needy. He seems lost in you, whimpers, groans and grunts trembling in his throat and chest. You spread your legs wider, wanting more of him, wanting your cunt to take the shape of his cock. 

“Harder—” you cry out. “Take it—Take what you want—” 

Your arms fall limp, his body moving up and towering over yours. Joel grips your thighs tight before lifting them, he jackhammers into you, tugging and pulling at you like a brand new fucktoy. He splits you in half. The force of his movements making you scream. You don’t miss the way he grins wildly, dangerously. Something dark and haunting washing over his face. 

Your eyes grow wide, your heart beating in your throat, making it hard to swallow. It happens all at once, you clench around him, arousal pouring between your legs in a way it never had before. The look, the cock, the man behind it all—everything combined pushing your mind into the deep stages of want and need. Your eyes roll back, your hands coming up to pinch your tight, tingling nipples. You sob his name, your voice hoarse as you beg him for more and more and more—

“W-Wait, darlin’ if you squeeze me like that I’ll—!” 

A series of curses drops wildly and unintelligently from his lips. You feel him. The heat of his seed filling you to the brim, his cock throbs and twitches, spurting into you again and again. Your lips break into a satisfied smile. Instinctively, Joel pushes deeper, shoving your combined slick even deeper. 

“Shit,” he says catching his breath. “I-I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I usually last. . . longer than that. I—” 

You shush him and cup his cheek. You’re so pliant right now, floating happily in the air. You let out a sigh before willing your lips to move. Has talking always been this taxing? 

“It’s okay Joel,” you slur your words, smiling lazily. “I take it as a compliment, that felt fucking good.” 

“Yeah?” he sounds so innocent and hopeful that you can’t suppress your giggle. His eyes twinkle under the dimmed light. “Well, I’m glad you felt good, sweetheart but I’m not done yet.” 

Your breath hitches when he pulls out, your brows furrow as a chill settles between your legs. You wanted him to stay inside longer. But you’re pleasantly surprised when he slides down your body, kissing every patch of skin before settling between your legs. 

“Let’s see if you’re as sweet as you’ve been tellin’ me.” 

He kisses your cunt, lips moving in tandem with your wet folds. He drags his tongue up between them, curling it as he takes himself into his mouth, tasting both of you at one. You go limp at the pressure of his tongue, your walls fluttering and squeezing for more. With a groan, he shoves his fingers, the wet sound makes your toes curl into the mattress. It’s like torture, a very pleasurable torture. You gasp when he pulls you flush against his face, the bridge of his nose bumping against your clit as he licks you clean. 

Your build up is spontaneous. You feel it coming, the taste of your orgasm at the tip of your tongue. Joel curls his fingers, sucking your clit between his lips and gently nipping at it. You hips chases his mouth, his mustache chafing the tender skin. Your hands come to each side of his head, threading your trembling fingers through the soft locks, his fingers brush against an especially sensitive spot and you tug at his hair. His throat shakes with a groan. His eyes closing. 

“Do it again,” he mutters. And you do. He starts moaning into your cunt, his hips, despite just spilling inside of you, rutting against the bed. Your nails bite into his scalp and he flicks his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

The tension coiling in you finally snaps, your entire body locking up as you gush into his mouth. He gulps you down loudly, fingers still moving deep inside you. Your throat is dry as ou shout his name, hips stuttering helplessly, he pins you down with both hands, moving his head up and down as the fat strokes of his tongue becomes more wild. 

When he’s finally done feasting, he pulls away with a wet mouth. 

“Wow,” you murmur, curling into him when he lays beside you. “That was. . . wow.” 

“You really had low expectations, huh?” 

“Not low,” you grin. “But not that high either.” 

“Well,” he says, guiding you so you’ll lay on his chest. “I’m glad to prove you wrong.” 

You smile, heart fluttering. 

“Me too.” 

[lbxbx]

Accidentally Yours 1 | JJK

Pair: Jungkook x reader

Summary: revenge never tasted that good when you decide to get back at the man - who ran you over - with the worst punishment he could ever get, and despite all the grudge, maybe some time after, the grudge will gradually turn into something else..?

Genre: e2l, biker jk, series ( a long one.), smut, fluff, angst.

Warnings: mentions of car accidents, mentions of fractured bone and hospitals, mentions of insecurities, cranky oc, mentions of drugs and money laundering.

Taglist open ‼️

Mood board 1 | Mood board 2

It’s a Tuesday night in October and it’s one of your usual work nights where your beloved routine takes place. It's nothing out of the ordinary really, it’s evening time and you had just finished creating your content and filming it.

You're standing in front of your vanity mirror massaging your face after your skincare routine, your phone buzzing a notification that your food order is ready for pickup so you rush to slip something warm on.

You weren’t someone born with a certain passion or ambitious enough to get a big degree, but you did manage to get a bachelor’s degree in accounting about seven years ago and you did get a job at a local company as a junior accountant, but it just wasn’t enough.

You’d get your paycheck and spend it only on necessities, it was enough money for you to survive, but never enough to get you the life you wanted.

You ran into a couple acquaintances a couple years ago and only three hangouts later, and you’d kill to be in their shoes.

Not only were they living the life you wanted, they owned the house you imagined having in your dreams, owned luxurious cars and hell even traveled places you’ve never even heard of before.

You thought you’d find a part time job and juggle with the one you had back then but it was impossible, and when you did the math, you’ll basically still be in debt.

Instead of taking a step forward you decided to take two steps back and just quit your job, you hated waking up early and hated the fact that you worked under someone, and the money wasn’t even worth it.

One of your friends suggested content creating, and you thought it through, you have nothing to film that people would be interested in seeing, nor that life that’s worth documenting.

“No idiot, I meant onlyfans.”

And it made you feel uneasy at first, but you remember your first night filming your very first video vividly.

You invested your last couple of hundreds of bucks and got a video camera, the shop even handed you a tripod as a “thank you for buying one of our worst cameras” and you ran back home to set it up.

And honestly the whole video was you faking an orgasm and attempting to make sounds that are supposed to get you an audience. And you proceeded to edit it into a short ten minute video and post it.

The app gave you an option on how much you could charge your audience and you chose to charge only five bucks for a subscription, you’re just testing waters.

Gotta say you weren’t really hopeful about it.

You showered that night thinking, what if this was actually it? You might have just changed your life with the stupid few minutes you just filmed of you putting on an act.

Not even 20 minutes later you head out and run back to your phone to find a SMS message from your local bank, oh my god this has to be it.

You hurriedly unlock your phone to read the message, but it was only a confirmation text that you had connected your account to this sketchy website, which made you sulk a little, but really what were you expecting.

Even when this was a little over two years ago you still remember the second you got your first subscription, and it was basically the day after your first video, and it was only 4 subscriptions ( basically twenty bucks. ) but you knew that this was just the beginning, and you knew you had to invest more into it if you were going to live the luxurious life.

And there you are, two years later, you did buy a penthouse in a luxurious neighborhood, you managed to make your first investment and bought a couple apartments that you rent out for college students, you also bought not one, but two freaking cars that are freakishly expensive.

Not to mention you now invite your friends to go hiking or traveling together.

And last but not least, your cat Coco who you adopted right away, every time you came home you look at her with heart eyes when she waits for you by your door, she curls up right by your feet and sometimes she would make failed attempts of jumping right onto you and you find it unbelievably adorable, sometimes she’d even fall asleep right by your keyboard when you’re uploading your content and she is irreplaceable.

Fuck the degree, this is the best decision you’ve ever made.

Back to now, you’re throwing on your pair of sneakers and grabbing your car keys ready to go pick up your fried chicken. “I’ll be right back Coco okay?”

Your stomach was growling you can hear it resonate through the elevator walls, you head out the security and they greet you warmly.

Not only because you’re the most humble out of all the residents, also because you’re the most generous out of them all, treating them for dinners and lunches and sometimes buying gifts for the cleaners, they adore you. Not to mention you were a generous tipper!

You head out the building to watch a young man feeling up your car, a helmet in his hand and his motor bike parked right beside yours, now you usually didn’t mind, until you see him checking out your license plate and taking pictures of your car, his hand is about to touch the door handle before you voice out. “Hey!”

As if his body was prepared, a surge of adrenaline rushes through his system and his heartbeat becomes rapid, he’s fully alert that you’re after him now and as a response for his sense of urgency or fear, he throws on his helmet and right when he’s about to get onto his bike, he bumps into your car accidentally making the alarm go on.

“Get back here.” You are seconds away from running after him but you know you won’t be able to catch up. He manages to gain his balance back onto his motor bike right away and drives it fast enough to disappear out of your sight in seconds. “Idiot.”

You take a quick spin around your car just to check on it before unlocking it and getting in and buckling up, the stupid guy is long forgotten when you hear your stomach growling again, you haven’t had a bite after breakfast this morning, so you rush to pick up your food order and go back home.

-

Being your own boss made a bit careless about weekends, every day was a weekend to you practically, you only waited for the weekends occasionally if you were hanging out with some of your friends.

It’s Friday and the neighborhood you live in gets quite busy on the weekend nights, people who live in this areas usually host cocktail parties and reunions on fridays, some times newlyweds rent out the near by mansions for their honeymoon and it does get a little noisy.

You were never a fan of traffic and you hated having to stay long in the car so you avoided leaving your place unless it was really urgent.

“So are you coming or not?” Your best friend Natty is on the phone, you can hardly hear her when music around her is so loud.

Your friends have decided on hitting the club to celebrate someone’s promotion but with the traffic outside it was impossible for you to leave your place.

Plus you have a schedule you have to follow and you have to post something tomorrow and you haven’t filmed the content yet, so basically you had to work tonight so you’re not going anywhere, or at least that’s what you thought.

“No Nat i’m afraid not, i have some work left to do and i’m waiting for the gate keeper to come over and wash my car.”

You can easily imagine her rolling her eyes when she speaks. “Ugh, i’ll pick you up, work can wait, you’re your own boss.”

“Enjoy your night Natty, i’ll chat about it with you tomorrow.” You hang up right away and open the app on your phone to figure out what’s the meal you’ll devour on once you’re finished.

And honestly Sushi sounds good right now, so with no second thoughts you choose the items you want and add them to your cart, before you get up onto your feet and head to your room.

The room you specifically had designed for this type of content, not like it’s that type of rooms, but accent dark walls and a large bed, with the camera set up prepared all the time on standby along with the lighting ready, and a storage compartment for your “tools” and outfits.

You’ve grown to adore this job, not only do you do it to make money, but you’ve made a great amount of online subscribers that make you love doing it just so you can have a chat with them.

You get changed and right before you hit record you made sure to hit the order button for your sushi, so by the time you’re done you’ll have your food delivered by your door.

It doesn’t take you over 30 minutes to make a clip that you know you’ll have a hard time editing ( which was basically the worst part ever. ) so you get up and make it to your shower to clean up and get into a comfy pair of pants and a sweater, it was freezing cold outside and even with your fireplace on you were still freezing.

A small pop up banner on the top of your phone screen showed notifying you that the order was ready for pickup, which you recall you asked for it to be delivered.

A few clicks and failed attempts to get it delivered it was practically impossible, so you slid on your pair of sneakers and grabbed your car keys. “I’ll be home soon Coco.” You pet her and smother her with kisses before heading out.

Looks like no matter how hard you tried avoiding leaving your house you were eventually coerced to.

The traffic was unbearable, not only was it a friday night, the holiday season was coming up in a month or even less and people couldn’t stay home even when there’s a blizzard outside.

You rush to get into your car and quickly shuffle your fingers over the buttons to heat up the seats and the steering wheel. The sushi place wasn’t that far away but why walk there when you can drive? Specially when snow was expected on the weather forecast tonight. Although walking there would’ve probably been faster.

On regular basis it would’ve been a 15 to 20 minute drive to the place but on maps it was clear enough that this ride will take at least 35 to 40 minutes.

Luckily you didn’t have to worry about the temperature of your food-

Although you tried to be positive about it but you most certainly have driver’s rage and it’s starting to piss you off that the lights turned green and people aren’t driving yet.

You would’ve flashed your lights at the cars if you were patient enough but you’re not, so you honk the horn repeatedly and you couldn’t care less if people judged you for honking this late at night.

It bothers you even more that bikers just manage to slip between the vehicles and just cross the lights that are turning orange by now and soon come to red.

“Will you come on.” You whine before unbuckling your seat belt and turning off your car, and right after you leave your car and close your door, you were seconds away to scolding the driver in front of you when suddenly a searing pain is felt on your lower half, you could quite literally hear something breaking as if your bone is tearing apart, it’s jolting inside your body and it’s hard to ignore.

As if your nervous system was on alert your hand subconsciously moves to your leg, your eyesight even wonders there wondering if you even still have your leg attached to your body, and you immediately feel nauseous and breathless, you’re pretty sure you’re about to pass out.

“Maam are you okay?”

Scratch that. You already did.

The engines of the cars and bikes ( specifically the one that ran over you ) suddenly feel far away and you no longer hear them, your eyelids feel heavy and you immediately lose consciousness.

-

Okay maybe it’s not that reckless of a life, on the verge of being 30 yet feeling like he hadn’t still lived his entire dreams, he insists on doing everything he wanted even if it costed him a fortune.

Of course, he wants to go explore somewhere new? He’d do it, even if he’s in debt, he knows he’d end up starving for the rest of the month, living his best life was a priority and frankly his priorities are severely off.

He wants to drive a boat? He’d do it, even when he’s positive that he’ll never own one but hey, it’ll be a fun experience. He’ll have to give up on a couple of things this month as well

Of course his friends are joining a bikers club, why not join it too? It would be great to own a bike. It took him nights to figure out what to give up next and the only option he has was his car and in his defense it made sense. With the money he can learn how to drive a motor bike and even own the newest yet coolest bike in town.

So? Of course he sells his car and gets the lessons and even owns one of the best remodeled motor bikes ever.

This bike was a legit babe magnet, his good looks helped too but the bike played a bigger role than he did, wherever he went he would get the attention, even when he washed his bike in the nearby gas station he would have girls drooling over him.

Actually one of his latest encounters progressed into having the lady as his backpack on his bike when he drove across the city to show her how fast he can go, of course he ended up in her bed

He’s a little more financially stable now after he settled for his bike, he would end up being in debt because his job doesn’t pay that well, he does photography for fun and it was initially his hobby, he doesn’t have that many costumers but when he does he gets paid well.

His obsession for luxurious expensive cars was endless, he enjoyed visiting luxurious neighborhoods just to check out the cars there, one of the recent cars he saw was the black mercedes suv that was parked in front of a skyscraper in the middle of city and it drew all his attention, and to his shock it was driven by a young lady like you, he panicked that night and quickly rushed to get onto his bike and drove away to avoid getting into trouble.

Your car was custom made to your desire with the options you wanted, so basically it is one of a kind and there are no other cars like yours.

And tonight was one of the numerous friday nights where him and his friends would go bike outside the city and to his luck he was really late, and traffic tonight was insane, so he put his helmet on and drove really fast to catch up with his people, he started gliding through traffic and slicing through the lanes, he can hear people cursing which he was used to at this point but he needed to get there like right now!

He was focused on the narrow gaps being sure to dodge the mirrors and people who were on foot, he was a really excellent driver even when there was barely a breath of space left between his bike and other cars.

His phone let out a familiar chime signaling a new message and it had caught his attention, he was aware that his phone shouldn’t make a distraction while he’s driving but when it’s his friend Taehyung sending him a different location stating that they changed their gathering point, he had to check it out.

“Fuck-“ he muttered and tried hard to focus both on the road and on his phone, when maps loaded and showed him the new spot he pinched the screen to figure out the where the alley was when suddenly he bumped onto something- or someone he wasn’t sure, his phone fell to the floor and he was close enough to fall off his bike, hearing people panicking around him he was pretty positive that he ran over a person.

He cursed on the inside and debated on whether to stop or just run, but he did eventually hit his brakes, the screech of his tires making a deafening sound, his heart sank when he saw an actual person dragged onto the floor, a lady actually.

A look of sheer panic on his face when he realizes that this is an actual accident and it’s making a really big scene amongst this entire traffic. “Ma’am are you okay? Someone call an ambulance!” Someone yells from behind and rushes past Jungkook to offer help.

People were pretty sure they heard the sound of your bones breaking even when the engines were loud but it was unmistakable, Jungkook kneels down to the ground mortified that you could probably be dead!

“Ma’am are you okay?” And to his luck at this point you completely passed out, going totally unaware of your surroundings. Which makes him panic even more.

-

Is it nausea hitting you or what? You’re pretty sure you’re awoken by that, you’re swallowing repeatedly when your eyes flutter open, your pupils stirred, scanning your surroundings abruptly.

Unfamiliar place, unfamiliar faces, the smell is horrific and it’s really noisy and bright around here

Your eyes feel heavy again, you blink several times unsteadily, your mind finding it hard to catch up with your body, are you paralyzed?

Your breath slowly becomes shallow when you start to panic, and you’re pretty sure you’re conscious now but you’re totally disoriented to everything.

“Ma’am, it’s okay you’re safe now, can you tell me your name?”

Your name? It takes you a few moments to piece together what your name was, this was the silliest question yet you are unable to answer.

You can talk, but you can’t remember.

Tears fogged your eyes and right when you’re about to shake your head you realize that you can’t, your neck is stabilized with a brace and something hurts when you try to move. “I don’t remember.”

Someone on the opposite corner of the room who was watching from a far almost passes out when he think he might’ve actually caused permanent damage to you.

Your tears roll down to the corner of your eyes eventually falling to your ears, you hate the fact that you’re unable to wipe your own tears.

You blink repeatedly and your heart drops when you actually see police officers above your head waiting to interrogate you.

You hear the team around you blabbering some medical terms that you find yourself totally ignorant of before you speak again. “What happened?”

“You got hit by a bike, the x ray shows that your leg is fractured and your knee was disloacted, we already put your leg in a cast and you’re likely to be given crutches, but you don’t have to worry at all, everything is going to heal with time and the right treatment, we’ll hand your folder to orthopedics when you’re out of here so you can follow up with them. As for now we need to get an MRI to help us get a clearer look of what’s going on.” He elaborated that it rarely happens when people temporarily experience memory loss but it was just a check up and you wanted to make sure you were fine too, and find out why on earth you can’t remember your own name.

Once the doctors disappear you see a familiar face hovering over your head, long dark hair covering his forehead and eyes that you cannot comprehend the feelings behind, is he someone you know?

“I’m truly sorry, i didn’t see you.” So is he the one that hit you?

“How long have i been unconscious?” You ask, your pupils still scanning his face and your surroundings, he grabs out his phone and takes a glimpse at his screen. “It’s been about four hours.”

A bunch of nurses come by to take you back down to do the scan and you know that the guy with the dark hair is still hovering around because he keeps asking if you’re going to be okay.

Once you’re prepped for the machine with a pair of earplugs the entire team leaves the room and you’re left on your own.

You know the image will take a while so you need to calm yourself down and try and relax, loud rhythmic banging is hear once the machine operates and you shut yours eyes tightly, even when you were never claustrophobic it feels like you are, it’s a little too small for your liking and it feels like you’re suffocating.

Focus on your thoughts, try and think of anything else!

Y/n, that’s right, this was your name. You slowly recall your bedroom and try and imagine what your surroundings were.

What happened and how did you end up here? Your phone, oh no your car, you were driving, something involved sushi of some sort.

Your body relaxes a little and even with the loud thumping that is loud enough to deafen anyone, you’re a little relieved to be finally able to remember something.

The scan took about an hour and it felt a lot longer than it is, you were rolled back on the bed to the emergency room and again you spot the guy with the dark hair.

You’ve seen him once, just dig a little deeper.

“Are you okay?” He asks a little hesitant, his doe eyes monitoring you from head to toe, “the doctors said the scan was perfectly fine.”

“Are you experiencing any pain?” The nurse walks closer with some meds on hand, she injects something into your catheter and moves even closer to take the brace off of your neck. “The scan went well, your neck is okay it’s just that your ribs and ankle are a little bruised, bed rest should help you heal right away.” She flashes a smile before asking. “Any pain?”

“A little, yeah.”

It seems like she injected something to reduce your pain because once you answer her you suddenly feel like you’re floating, your pain feels a little less intense and a little more distant, your breath feels a lot slower and your limbs feel extremely heavy. “I’m fine.”

You haven’t heard yourself talking but it was clear enough that you’re drugged and your thoughts were completely fogged and muddled.

“Ma’am this officer Choi and i’m officer Lee , we’re just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

“Sure.” You’re finally able to move your neck and turn towards the two officers who you believe were four or probably eight, you’re ready to pass out any second now.

They start asking basic questions, your name and how old you were, and what you did for living, and you outdone yourself when you said that you do your job online from home, not mentioning and giving any further details.

“Did you notice the bike approaching you?” He asks, the officer behind him writing his notes down.

“No, i didn’t see him at all.” You look at the guy with the dark hair, your eyebrows pulling together when you try and brainstorm where you saw this guy. And honestly it feels like a workout!

“Mr. Jeon ran you over with his bike and we’re still interrogating him once we hear from you, do you know him?” The officer asks. “A nearby station towed your car and Mr. Jeon gave them your address.”

Of course he did.

He’s the biker you saw checking out your car earlier this week. As if Jungkook can see how you’re processing your thoughts his eyes widen when you speak. “Yes, he’s totally after me, i saw him outside my building the other day.”

“Am not, officer she’s heavily medicated just ignore that.” Jungkook defends himself. “I’ve seen the car she drives a week ago and after i ran her over i realized that it was the same woman and the same car.”

“Mr. Jeon i’m afraid we have to take you down to the police station for further interrogation.” The second police officer puts his notes in his pockets and takes out a pair of handcuffs. “Sir please listen to me, i promise i’m telling the truth, i don’t— I have no idea who she is.”

“Miss do you have anyone you can call? Like family or a friend? Mr. Jeon is the only one around and we need to take him over to the center, we just want to make sure you’ll be doing okay and safe with someone.”

“Do you have my stuff? I can’t see my keys and phone.”

“I have them with me,” Jungkook fishes out your stuff from his pockets and you scoff.

“Of course you do, now he’s stolen my phone and my keys.” You whine. “You broke my leg what else do you want?”

“For the record i was driving on the street like a normal person and you were walking, if you wanted to walk you’d do that at the sidewalk.” He arrogantly speaks while putting down your phone and keys on the stand next to you.

“And for the record, i saw the lights clearly turning red, you should’ve stopped, so not only you ran me over and broke my leg, you also crossed a red light.” You’re drowsy but you still have the power to argue, side eying the officer waiting for him to take note that this “Mr. Jeon” is double as guilty.

“We’ll run over the CCTV and check if what you’re saying is true.” The officer grabs your phone to hand it to you, “Can you call someone to be here with you?”

“Yeah, my friend Natty, she’s the first one on my contact list” you unlock your phone and lazily open the contact list to call her, the officer proceeds to take the phone and talk to your best friend while you lay in bed and struggle to keep your eyes open. Once the officers are a little distracted and their attention is averted away from you, Mr. Jeon takes a step closer with his arms crossed. “Can you please tell them i’m innocent, i’ll do anything you want, i’ll give you money.”

“How exactly are you innocent? I’m here because of you.” Your mouth automatically moves as if it’s the only body part disconnected from your brain,

“How much do you want? I’ll give it to you cash.”

“Hmm, can’t say i’m not intrigued.” You feign thinking before he blurts out. “You’ll take the money and just leave me alone.”

“Will your money fix my leg?”

He pauses for a second trying to think of an answer but you were faster. “Then no.”

“Please, i can’t go to prison, i was never there you can’t be serious.”

“Your friend is on her way here—” the officer walks back and hands you back your phone, an alert look on his face once he realizes that Jungkook was talking to you, a little paranoid thinking he might be offended you. “In the mean time Mr. Jeon we need to have a talk with you.”

-

You’re not sure whether is was a nap or some sort of coma, but your mouth feels dry and you’re a little groggy, you’re entire body feels lethargic and heavy and you’re pretty sure it’s the meds they’ve been pumping inside your veins for this entire night.

You take a glance at your surroundings and you’re still in the hospital this time in a private room, you feel extremely lost since you have no idea what time it is or if it’s day time or night time, once you turn your head to the right you spot a tall man wearing a dark leather jacket and holding a helmet in his right hand and a bouquet of flower in his left hand, his hair covering his eyes and a boxy smile on his smile that widens when you acknowledge his existence finally. “I’m sorry for bothering you- how are you feeling now? Any better?”

You start muttering words that don’t form a sentence before you clear your throat and decide to switch on your brain for once. “I think you’re in the wrong room—“

He flashes you a smile before tilting his head. “Y/n, right? I was told you’re in room 613.” He puts the flowers onto your lap, adjusting them once before picking them back up. “I should probably put those in some water.”

“Do i know you?” You can’t lose your memory again, it didn’t feel very pleasant the last time.

“Actually, i’m here hoping you’d do something awfully generous for me— i know we just met, and you cannot believe how extremely shocking the news were to me, i was really worried over you, but i’m worried more over my friend Jungkook who’s detained in the police station, they think he ran you over intentionally which believe me he wouldn’t hurt a fly, he’s an incredible man who was really worried for your well being the whole time you were knocked out— i mean passed out. However i really wish that you.. uhm..”

“Of course he sent you, listen sir, whatever your name is—“

“Taehyung.” He anxiously bites on his nails when he can sense rejection coming up from the way you’re speaking.

“You seem just as reckless as he is,” you glance at his helmet. “So if your entire biking cult begs me to let him out, i won’t.” You sternly speak, before blinking a couple of times. “Aren’t you guys a little too old for riding bikes?”

“Y/n, please, he’s willing to do anything for you right now.” He begs again, putting his helmet onto the chair behind him and putting the flowers back onto your lap. “He promised he’ll pay your entire hospital bill and even take care of you if he needed to.”

You’re a little intrigued, not the bill’s wise, you could easily afford that. But the idea of having him to serve you and do whatever you needed does sound tempting.

“Let me think about it, i’ll call the police station if i change my mind, but for the mean time i want you to leave please.”

“I appreciate it really, thank you so much, you’re so kind and generous—“

“Just leave Taehyung.”

-

“You did not.” Jungkook runs his tongue against his cheek before clenching his jaw. “I will not do that if it costs me my life!”

“Do you wanna get out of here or not?” Taehyung glares at the younger one before taking a look around them. “You don’t belong here, besides it’s just a couple of months and you’ll be over with.”

Jungkook’s face falls into his palms before he sighs. “i can’t believe you suggested that.”

“I can’t believe you broke the woman’s leg and ran her over.” Taehyung shrugs.

“If it weren’t for your message i wouldn’t be here.”

-

“You owe me.” Concealed anger filling your voice and you’re fighting every cell in your body to just not punch him and break both his legs in return.

He shifts in his spot and scratches the back of his head, trying hard to avoid rolling his eyes. “Look i didn’t mean to—“

“Oh i know.” You feign a smile. “Of course you didn’t, but it doesn’t change the fact that you did.”

You turn to look at the crutches sitting in the corner of the room waiting to be used. “So here’s how things are going to go, you’re going to make this up to me for breaking my leg. Every. Single. Day. Groceries, cleaning, fetching my meds, cooking, you’re going to stay up the night on standby in case i need something. And Who knows, maybe you’ll learn how to be a decent human being along the way.”

“Listen woman—“

“What he meant to say.” Taehyung laughs awkwardly taming his best friend, “he’ll do it.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up. “You want me to babysit her?”

“Yes.” You answer instead. “Consider this as your punishment, it’s either this or jail, maybe you’ll have your license taken away for life then.”

A defeated sigh escapes Jungkook’s lips before he shuts his eyes, fully surrendered. “Alright i’ll do it.”

“Good.” You smirk, already plotting his next task, the taste of revenge was intoxicatingly good.

[intothedysphoria]

Steve was aware of the irony of the fact that he was hiding in a literal closet instead of messaging a hot man he’d met at work. That didn’t stop him from doing it though.

Searching “how to make gay thoughts go away” had just lead him to conversion therapy websites and that made Steve run out of the tab at the speed of sound. He wasn’t trying to repress anything. He just needed these inconvenient feelings to become a little more manageable.

Billy from work was beautiful, granted. He kind of looked like a bad boy, with the motorcycle and the leather jacket and the whole 1980s rebel aesthetic. That really was very in right now. But he also was fussy about the way he took his tea and read obscure French sci-fi and apparently owned like six cats.

Telling Billy his dream of having six kids was probably coming on a little strong. Then again, Steve wasn’t very good at doing things casually.

He’d told a first date he loved them. Twice. Who knows where he’d be if it hadn’t been Carol?

It was utterly humiliating. So Steve decided that he was going to hide in his closet, with his iPad and a bowl of grapes until it went away.

The plan was foolproof. It really was. Except Billy had given Steve his number, presumably in the assumption that Steve would actually text him.

That was a big assumption. Steve’s only real experience texting a guy in a way that wasn’t platonic was Tommy Hagan in high school. Most of the time he’d just text “what’s up man” then they’d give each other sad, repressed handjobs in Tommy’s attic bedroom.

“What’s up man” probably wasn’t going to work on Billy. He couldn’t really panic and use a straight persona on someone who’d presumably shared his number in the hopes of a hookup. Date. Anything.

Babe felt a bit strong. Did gay men call each other babe? Maybe the closet was getting to Steve’s head because his breathing had started to come out quick and panicky. Fucking shit.

He was going to text Billy, then hide from his phone for the next four hours. Yes, that was a good plan. Hide from the feelings Steve.

He rambled something out about Billy being hot, Steve being a hot mess and pressed send before he could think about it too much. Then he put his phone on silent and went to wash the dust out of his hair.

Billy hadn’t texted back by the time Steve had gotten out of the shower. Texting again would make him seem clingy and fucking weird. He put on Legally Blonde, the comfort film he’d resolved to tell nobody about and decided to forget about it.

The hours ticked away and Steve slowly went about his daily routine, phone sitting forgotten on the counter. Dustin visited, Steve endured a lengthy conversation about Dungeons and Dragons, and he finally made pizza without burning it to a crisp.

Then he remembered.

Shit.

Running to check his phone and cursing the fact that his hands were still sticky from the pizza, Steve stumbled through unlocking the passcode and found five new messages. All from Billy. Some slightly panicked.

Steve was not the only clingy one it seemed. So he phoned.

Billy still sounded kind of breathless when he picked up which made Steve kick himself. The poor guy had been waiting for a message back for six hours and Steve had been hiding from his phone.

They managed to establish some stuff.

Both of them were attracted to each other. Neither were good at doing casual. And both of their Fridays were free.

Perfect.

Steve did awkward finger guns at Billy when they stepped into the restaurant but considering Billy managed to trip over his motorcycle helmet, he thought that wouldn’t be an issue.

And he managed not to say I love you when Billy took his hand on the way out, which was progress.

Maybe on the next date then.

For the lovely @shieldofiron who as much as she loves angst also loves some cheesy fluff

[shitpostingperidot]

How old is Carol Danvers???

(Inspired by a post by @blindluck which was in turn inspired by a post by me and @marvelsassbutts )

So I just found out the official Captain Marvel wiki places Carol Danvers’s birth date in 1965. At first I thought “that’s ridiculous” for reasons that will become clear through this long ass post. But then I saw they cited drawings by the assistant art director on Captain Marvel, found on her portfolio! That’s pretty official!

Wait what’s that at the bottom…

1984???? For Carol’s USAFA basic training???? This is impossible, the movie is wrong, and here’s why.

(Excerpt from my future video essay incoming)

There are no dates in Higher, Further, Faster; the marketing text on Amazon, Liza Palmer’s website, etc just says “80s.” So, we need to do some detective work.

We know that the 2019 film Captain Marvel takes place in 1995. Since it takes place in Southern California and Louisiana, the warm weather doesn’t tell us much about the time of year. Personally, I believe it takes place on March 8, 1995, because that’s the exact day I was born, and my birthday is the day the movie was released on to coincide with International Women’s Day. Regardless, Monica Rambeau is eleven years old in the film, putting her birth in 1983 or 1984. So, Maria’s pregnancy must have begun in 1982 or 1983.

Here’s a “fun” fact about US military academies: until less than one year ago (summer 2023, a full three years after Captain Marvel came out), cadets at USAFA who became pregnant were required to either drop out, have an abortion, or relinquish their parental rights to their child.

Dropping out also means reimbursing the government for your tuition for all classes you’ve taken up to this point, and giving up your ability to be commissioned as a second lieutenant in the Air Force upon graduation. Definitely not an option someone as driven as Maria wants to consider. In fact, we know this isn’t what happened, because this news article Carol hung up in her spaceship in The Marvels says that Maria Rambeau is a USAFA graduate.

We also know that Maria didn’t have an abortion, because, well, Monica Rambeau herself is tangible evidence. Theoretically, it is possible for Maria to have given up parental rights and adopted back her own child after graduation. Before the policy change in 2023 that allowed cadets to be parents, many found this to be their best option (see the article I screenshotted above). However, this process is really expensive and takes a lot of work with a lawyer over a period of months or years. From the little we know of Carol and Maria’s life pre-crash, (it was busy, they lived in an expensive area, and Maria only had Carol for support), I think we can assume that it’s less likely that Maria was forced to adopt her own daughter than that Maria graduated USAFA before becoming pregnant in 1982 or 83.

That still doesn’t answer the question of when this book takes place, though. The exact year is important, as the military had some major differences under the Gerald Ford, Jimmy Carter, and Ronald Reagan administrations of the 70s and 80s, and one of the things I want to assess this book on is accuracy.

Oh wait, what’s that? Another discriminatory policy that helps us date this book? That’s right, USAFA didn’t enroll women as cadets until Public Law 94-106 went into effect in 1976.

What’s more, Carol and Maria cannot have been part of this first group of women cadets, because in the book, there is an upperclassman character who is a woman. Officer Cadet Chen is one of the leaders of Basic Training for Carol and Maria’s flight, a position cadets aren’t allowed to hold until their third or fourth year at the Academy.

So, Carol and Maria must enter USAFA no earlier than 1978 to be two or more years younger than Chen, and must graduate no later than 1983 for Monica to exist. To comply with the marketing blurb’s declaration that this book takes place “in the 80s”, let’s say that Carol and Maria’s first year is the 1979-1980 school year.

(End excerpt)

In conclusion, Maria and Carol were born in 1960 or 1961 (with pretty equal likelihood of which birthday makes them 18 at the start of the book, since USAFA basic happens the summer before the school year), not 1965. It would be impossible for them to have done basic training in 1984 as in the production drawing, because they would have to have already graduated and be well on their way to test pilot school which is a whole other policy can of worms before Monica’s birth in 1983 or 1984.

In conclusion conclusion, Carol is ~34 in Captain Marvel and ~64 in The Marvels, and the MCU should hire fans to fact check for them.

[backup-baby-backup]

List of Speak Now TV-related Easter eggs Taylor has dropped recently (just drop it already ffs)

NB: I'm only including hints that are obvious and don't require mental gymnastics. Your mileage might vary, of course.

27 February 2020: The Man music video is released, with the iconic graffitied wall showing Speak Now coming after Red.

26 October 2020: Taylor posts this TikTok.

I really think this is a really obvious hint, but nobody ever seems to talk about it... anyways notice how the colours of the garments she points at go purple > blue > green > black?

9 November 2021: Red (Taylor's Version) signed CDs go on sale. On her website, the price $20.10 is written in purple.

12 November 2021: "Red is about to be mine again, but it has always been ours."

13 December 2021: Taylor turns 32. Her AMA award for Speak Now can be seen in this photo she posts.

20 January 2021: Taylor is named 2022 Record Store Day Ambassador. The logo uses purple text and we lose our minds.

5 May 2022: Taylor Nation drops Speak Now (and 1989) merch for some reason.

Apparently, this was to show the Speak Now trademark was still being used, but I'm still putting it here.

21 October 2022: Anti-Hero music video released.

The koi fish guitar from the Speak Now World Tour makes an appearance.

Also, in the official YouTube video for the TSAntiHeroChallenge thing, she wears the purple dress from the Speak Now tour.

25 October 2022: Bejeweled music video released.

This day is the 12th anniversary of Speak Now.

Enchanted plays at the beginning.

Laura Dern says "Speak not".

Taylor presses the 3 button in the elevator, which is coloured purple.

The 13 button and the 13th indicator light (representing the album after Midnights) are also purple.

Taylor's hairpin says "SN".

Koi fish appears in the windows of the castle.

Long Live plays at the end.

1 November 2022: "I'm enchanted to announce my next tour..."

27 January 2023: Lavender Haze music video released.

The koi fish appears again.

29 January 2023: The official Taylor Swift 2024 calendar is shown on the publisher's website. It features photos from the Speak Now tour.

The cover picture is the same one used in the Eras Tour to represent the Speak Now era.

It will be available for purchase on July 20th.

17 March 2023: Taylor drops If This Was A Movie (TV), which was a deluxe track on Speak Now, and Safe & Sound and Eyes Open (TV), which were first performed live on the Speak Now tour.

9 April 2023: Photos from the set of a music video being filmed in Liverpool are leaked. The Speak Now tour flying balcony and piano can be seen.

13 April 2023: Taylor says that "recently one of my albums has been on my mind a lot" before performing Speak Now.

1 May 2023: Taylor posts this. The purple heart speaks for itself.

5 May 2023: WE WON. WE FINALLY WON.

[the-good-bad-truth]

As we all may have already heard:Megan Fox and Machine Gun Kelly have broken up. Megan announced this by deleting all photos of Mgk(besides the events that she only got to go to because of him) and then going from following no one to following Harry styles, Timothee Chalamet(for unknown reasons) and Eminem for Obvious reasons.(only did to be petty). Then there is the post with Beyonce lemonade lyric and the poster of human trafficking. This all ended her with her deactivating her account. Anyways I’m going to try to keep this short and clear up some rumors or misinformation people are constantly spewing to defend her.

Rumor #1 : The engagement ring being hard to take off that shows he’s controlling and possessive

Fact: A quick search to the designer of the ring insta or website: Stephenwebsterjewelry, you will find these pictures and the designer himself describing the ring as “The two perfectly matched pear shaped gems are connected by a magnet buried in the setting connecting the D colour antique-cut Diamond and the untreated Colombian Emerald”

So as you can see the ring is not made of thorns(sarcastic joke mgk made), but it is only magnetic and if it did hurt her to take it off it wasn’t the right finger measurements.

Rumor #2: The reason for her wearing the pink cast and having a concussion is because MGK physically abused her.

Fact: Since January 8th 2023 to about a week ago, Megan Denise Fox was in Bulgaria, filming a movie called subservience. She most likely had a fight/action scene since she will be playing and AI Robot maid who ends up reaping havoc on a father and family and hurt her wrist and got a concussion from there. She even posted a picture where she is laying in a hotel room, where at the time, Mgk was in LA and she had not come back for the grammy’s

Rumor#3: He threatened to unalive himself by putting a shotgun in his mouth because she was going to leave him/or not there for him

Fact: This was discussed in the documentary, now I don’t have the clip, but let me give you all some context, 1. He is a person who has suffers with substance and mental issues(depression,Paranoia, Anxitety). 2. His father(who he had a tough,rocky relationship only to have made up w/2 years or so b4) had recently just passed away from cancer and probably had a hard time processing his death especially since he had not reconnected w/ his mom. 3. Megan who was constantly saying or being portrayed as his healer and offering him support was away filming. 4. It was during quarantine so everybody in the world was struggling in some way.

Idk If this is just me but although yes it was traumatic for Megan being on the phone in this situation, I think with this context, we can see that he might have not been in the right mind especially to be playing an emotional abusive bf to her. Another thing I want to add that in his song Sid and Nancy(written after this incident) is based off a text MEGAN sent to him saying “if we can’t be together then we should go out murder/suicide). Does that seem like a girlfriend who wants you to heal? I don’t think so.

Write it in blood and we both sign Sid and Nancy, a murder suicide These are her words and mine Sid and Nancy, a murder suicide

Rumor #4: Mgk cheated on Megan with the female guitarist, Sophie lloyd

Fact: Sophie has a boyfriend and there is no reason or evidence that they were involved especially since Megan was on most of the tour anyway. He might have cheated with other girls but as far as we know he didn’t or there is no evidence but megan insinuating. 

To end this off, DO NOT send hate to Sophie, any of the band or MGK because this was a toxic relationship on BOTH ends and now that it is over there is nothing we can or will do but move on.

[keyrey]

To those who need to hear it.

Likes, they're good. Thank you! Reblogs, oh my goodness, you want your audience to see my work? Oh... you didn't use tags? Don't even get me started on stalking the pages of each one of your ten followers. Not that I do that of course, right? A comment! Do I respond now or later? I don't want to be seen as a psychopath. I got a kudo! 100 hits!? Oh, but my writing's not even that good... Why is it that we put so much value on a number when the real value comes from acquiring new skills and knowledge?

Idealization? Check

False perception of reality? Double check.

Yikes.

Go back and look at the words written in bold. My writing's not even good. Why would you think that after all of the hours you've poured into your work, or the endless amount of times you searched the thesaurus for synonyms to 'said' and eventually fail and chose it anyway?

The amount of times I've opened this app not even a day after I post is unreal. I got a like already? Wow! I should probably post this on Ao3 too, right? Even though I utterly hate the outdated website, the red on white background and the minuscule text that is too jarring to look at?

Y'all, the need for validation from strangers on the internet is real.

Arguably, the craziest part about the ordeal is that every feed looks the same, but there's a story behind them all. All ideas develop differently. It's the whole meaning of story tropes, to have your own take of a commonly used cliché. My feed in particular is filled with heaps of SatoSugu (I don't mind this), Nanani fanfic (I love this), the most smuttiest of smut of all time (an occasional treat before I slip into slumber), and people swearing that Deadpool and Wolverine were doing a certain something in that Honda Odyssey. (They probably were. But come on, my mom watched this film. Loved the jokes though. Keep 'em coming.)

Upon my mere two months of posting and doom scrolling, I've observed that this isn't only a 'me' thing. Most, if not all people go through some form of self-doubt. So yeah, is this just a phase? Maybe. Is it okay if this whole doubting-yourself sensation is reoccurring? It is.

Your story is special.

Lovely Tumblr poster number one, Lovely Tumblr poster number two, may your ask inbox be cleared of my wacky questions. I will leave you alone for now. Please enjoy your life while I try to get myself under control. Let's hope you know who you are. Though I really hope you don't. I mentally cringe at the things I've gotten wrong about your character.

How about a day of rest? Yeah, that would be useful. A cup of warm tea? A cozy book amidst the comfort of silence? A podcast or a playlist running as you take in the sun? Your life has more meaning than you think. Put away the phone, your laptop and take in your surroundings. Please, don't be like me! Go to bed at a reasonable hour.

The funny thing about being self-aware is knowing that I will come back within the next thirty seconds to see how this post has been doing. I've already got this site bookmarked. Peak hypocrisy, right?

Jeez, I can't believe I'm writing this. I apologize for all you lactose intolerant readers out there. This is cheesy. Not even your usual Cheddar or American cheese. No, this is some full-on cheese mozzarella pull level shit right here. I'm not responsible for your bathroom needs. Just remember to wash your hands.

If I can try, you can try.

To sum up, keep putting yourself out there and sharing your voice with the world. Even if you don't see it, others do. Even if others don't see it, fuck them. No, you try to see the worth in your work for yourself. If you're tired, let yourself feel the fatigue and take a break.

For those who care, this isn't a goodbye to Tumblr. Just a reminder that it's a website that you can remove yourself from at any time with proper accountability for your actions. It's hard to practice and it's not something that I can give advice on. My brain is only so big.

-Sending lots of love and warm hugs from the bedtime ponderer, Miss KeyRey.

I've got the temperature of my bedroom set to just below freezing. I'm bundled in my many layers of warm, fuzzy blankets. I ordered some ramen takeout for dinner and have taken a nice, long shower. I'm going to let my laptop die because I know I'll be too lazy to put it on charge. Using your weaknesses in a smarter way? Hell yeah. I think I'm ready to try this whole 'sleeping' thing once again. Or whatever you call it.

How many tags is too many?

[melodraca]

Hey! I saw in one of your posts, in the tags, that you were an English major. I'm going to college soon, and I was wondering if you had any advice on picking out your major. What do you like about majoring in English, and what exactly do English majors do? Thank you!

First of all, congrats! That's really exciting! I really hope you enjoy your time in college! Second, this is gonna be a bit long, so I apologize in advance o7

I'm honestly not sure how helpful this is, but for the longest time I didn't really know what I wanted to do. I actually enrolled in university as a mature student a good 5-ish years after I graduated high school. I was so tired of school-related stress (and the way that the public school system functioned in general) that I was honestly considering not even going to post-secondary. I bounced between different potential majors, although I couldn't help but feel tired just thinking about them, like I would be going to school out of obligation or societal expectation rather than genuine passion.

When I came back around to the idea years later, I started poking around my local university's website. As I was going through, reading everything over, and clicking through different subjects, I realized that I was actually really feeling excited about school for the first time... pretty much ever. Because I realized that I had the chance to do things at my own pace, with a focus on subjects that I actually liked, rather than what my family expected would get me a traditionally "good job."

I narrowed my major down to a choice between English and creative writing, but I ultimately went with English. As much as I love creative writing, I prefer doing it as a hobby. It's the same with art for me: getting too serious with it made me feel less passionate and creative (to be fair though, I did take two first year creative writing classes as electives and I am genuinely proud of the stuff I wrote for them!)

With English, I could do my favourite thing in the world: overthinking literature and talking ad nauseam about the media I like. I love rambling, and writing essays is pretty much just organized info-dumping. I also wanted to learn more about history and culture, especially the way that they influence and are influenced by the works of literature, film, etc. of the times. In my experience so far, English classes have mostly consisted of reading or watching a bunch of texts, analyzing them & picking them apart, discussing said texts with my peers, and comparing/contextualizing them with each other. It's way more fun for me than it probably sounds to most people haha

Side note: I'm also taking biology as a minor (specifically with a focus on zoology because I love animals). The contrast between using the more creative and writerly side of my brain, and the more logical sciencey and side works well for me.

I'm still not super career focused, though I have certainly thought about it. I'm on disability support right now, so thankfully I'm fortunate enough to not need to juggle work and school. Ideally, I would love it if my degree landed me a stable job that doesn't make me feel miserable or put the same strain on me that retail and food service do. But I'm kinda just going with the flow for now.

Anyways, that's all to say: look over all of your options and narrow it down to the ones that draw your interest and passion the most. Consider what you want out of school, explore the potential career options that each subject could bring if that's your goal, and generally go with what makes you feel the best.

I know most schools have exploratory courses and academic advisors that can help you figure out what you want to do, so I would definitely look into that! Oh, and look into the required classes for each subject too! It personally helped me organize and prepare for everything I would need to do so that I was less blind-sighted by, as an example, my mandatory statistics class for my biology minor (I'm DEFINITELY not a math person)

Good luck, and I'm sorry again for how long this got! I wish you the best :D

[ilraksroost]

Six Thousand Nine Hundred Sixty-Nine Words About Being a Raven and Ceratosaurus Stelliferoforme (Including the Disclaimer)

(Reading time: 54 - 69 minutes)

(Full text on both the website and below the cut)

Header art: "Masks" - A self portrait by myself circa March 2023

Disclaimer: This essay does not reflect a definite nature of reality and is only based on the beliefs and personal gnosis of ilrak, the core of the Ceratocorvus Nebula and the way that they have observed and experienced their existence. The causes are purely speculative as there is no way to truly prove or disprove the existence of this type of experience. This essay will only provide a general view as certain subjects related to this (i.e. the Ceratocorvus Nebula Gateway System and how certain members and experiences came to be, a detailed discussion about how gender, alterhumanity, and neurodivergence intersect in ilrak's personal experience, and more) will be discussed in future essays.

Introduction

My name is ilrak (a.k.a. K D Val) and I am a member of the greater alterhuman community. I have used a few different labels in the past - otherkin, therianthrope/therian, raven-kin, and my current favorites, theropodanthrope and stelliferoforme - but in trying to categorize my experiences, I find myself struggling to actually fit into any of the more established labels exactly. In this piece, I will be discussing three aspects of my identity, how they affect each other, how they are different, and how they are similar to and different from the different labels in the alterhuman community that I have used.

To help anyone who is unfamiliar with alterhuman community terms, I'll direct you to the following resources to cross reference with as they define the terms better than I can for reasons that will soon become clear.

I highly recommend looking into the works by Orion Scribner (http://frameacloud.com), House of Chimeras (https://houseofchimeras.neocities.org) and the Sol System (https://invisibleotherkin.neocities.org/Home), who are three excellent community historians. I also recommend looking into The Otherkin Wiki (https://otherkin.wiki/) which is an actively archiving encyclopedia of notable works, events, and people in the otherkin community. I also suggest visiting the Alterhumanity Archive (https://alterhumanarchive.neocities.org/Home).

A little bit about my human self before I get into the proper essay first. I am a Black, non-binary person who was born female. I am married, have a little backyard homestead, and a film and media arts degree that currently is being used to create a musical theatre podcast with my husband. I was born in the late eighties, I am formerly Christian (currently agnostic), and I did not have a decent internet connection until I was a teenager - and even then, I had grown up in the era of Stranger Danger so I did not participate in online communities outside of writing fanfiction. The first online otherkin community that I joined was Livejournal around 2006 and the now defunct forum, True Form Within, in 2007. I have been a member of many, many different websites centered around otherkin and therianthropy as both a semi-active participant and a lurker as I drifted away from some of them.

I have always identified as some flavor of non-human, even before knowing that there was a term for someone like me. I would dress as different animals, trying them on as identities, and for a while, was very into being a feline - but this also felt like putting a square peg into a round hole. When I would wear a shawl as if they were wings (or a dress that was my Diana Ross if she was a dove dress), or if I placed the maple helicopter seed pods on my nose and pretended I was a dinosaur, then I felt a sense of overwhelming euphoria (I still have the articles of clothing, even if they will never fit me again). It wasn't until my first year of college that I started to actually think more about the bird and dinosaur, however for reasons that will be outlined further in the essay, I only focused on the bird identity - specifically the raven which had appeared many times in my life as something I would see and secretly think to myself that is me.

The third identity that will be discussed later in the essay is another one that had always been there, even when words weren't there for me to describe it. An identity that I struggled with because of how outlandish it sounded. Ravens and dinosaurs are organic things that lived. The material that makes up a star is not. When I was a child, the Planetarium was just as much of a comforting place as the Aviary or the Natural History Museum. I felt like I was home when watching the laser shows that showed planets, stars, black holes, and other celestial bodies. Not in the sense that I was an alien from another planet, but rather that those forms were something I was supposed to be. I had adorned my ceiling with those glow in the dark stars. I had my favorite astrological pullout posters from National Geographic. I adored Cosmos and Carl Sagan. The history of deep geological time fascinated me. All of this influenced and was influenced by my identity.

As we go into this essay, I'll talk about how exactly I identify as a raven, a ceratosaurus, and star material, the terms I've found I prefer over the years, and what I think is the personal cause of this identity. I am generally agnostic about the causes of my own alterhumanity, however towards the end of this essay, I'll get into my current, more metaphysical beliefs regarding why I am what I am.

Now, consider the raven …

Raven

Being a raven is what I am probably more known as in the community as this is what I joined the online otherkin community as (after some, what could be called cameo shifts as a lion - however some of this will be brought into question in a later heading as these shifts may have been legitimately part of my non-humanity but interpreted incorrectly). Being a raven is the easiest, simplest part of my identity to talk about because, with ravens being extant animals, I could point to aspects of myself and say Yes. This is me. This is what my body should look like, this is how I act, this is a translation of how I think, etc. This is the aspect of myself that I was the most comfortable sharing with the therianthrope community because I was safer from grilling - the term for harsh questioning within the community that has started to fall out of favor. Part of it may also have been that, with an uncommon theriotype (the animal that a therianthrope identifies as), people either find it to be more legitimate (see the countless essays asking the question of Why are there so many wolves?) or there is simply not enough interest in questioning someone with a theriotype that is farther away from being human than a wolf or a deer. After all, the experience of being a non-mammal in a human body is very different from being a non-human mammal in a human body.

When I was still using therian terminology, I called myself a cladotherian (a term for those who have identities that are not a distinct species but rather the genus or family), as while it was easy to say I'm a common raven, it wasn't always accurate when dealing with different shifts (as will be discussed and defined shortly). Common ravens, African white-necked ravens, Thick-billed ravens, Brown-necked ravens, and the extinct Pied raven all feel like they are the same amount of who I am (and this may be partially explained with the third identity that I will talk about later). While the exact species used to be an important thing for me to ponder about, I have since just embraced being called a raven. Whatever sort of raven comes to mind when people hear I am one, they are correct.

On the most basic parts of this identity, we'll talk about shifts. When I say shifts, I mean the mindset changes and instinctual triggers that could be considered a mental shift as well as things such as your mental self image changing called an envisage shift (this is difficult to describe but is essentially how you are visualizing yourself - while I am very aware that I am in a human body, sometimes I still see myself as my theriotype when I'm interacting with the world), and, of course, the phantom shift - where one would feel they have a tail, talons, feathers, etc. This, for me, is a little bit different (and will ring true for the other theriotype that I will be discussing next). I don't so much feel that I suddenly or gradually have feathers or a tail. It's more that I do not currently have them and I am suddenly very aware of the absence and the feeling of wrongness at not having the correct body map. Some aspects of this will also blend in with my gender dysphoria to the point where I often don't know where one begins and the other ends. After all, birds do not give live birth and they also do not possess mammaries. When you're a non-mammal born into a female, mammalian body, some things get extremely alien at best and distressing at worst.

I do not have a name for the form of phantom shifting that I experience (maybe absence shifting is better - mostly joking - mostly), but other shift types, such as envisage shifts and mental shifts, I do experience. When I experience mental shifts as a raven, this often comes with behaviors that I find myself either wanting to do (flying - especially if startled, scavenging, anting, territorial urges - yes, ravens are more territorial than crows, and on the most extreme, becoming mostly nonverbal as I struggle to translate thoughts to the correct words) as well as behaviors that can be translated to a human body easily and be unobtrusive (toe walking, perching on my chair, echolalia, allopreening by mostly having my husband touch my head, neck, or back in a way that simulates preening - he is also the only person allowed to do this as per the above territorial urges). There are other behaviors that are difficult to describe other than I'm seeing a human world through a raven's mind. Capitalism and money is dumb. Coffee, chocolate, and human entertainment are cool.

Some of the more destructive urges that I've had, feather picking, scavenging, anting, and territorial urges, are things that I have had to work on and redirect. As a child I often picked at my sweaters but would get scolded which turned into me then picking at my hair, my face, my head, my ears - all trying to do it surreptitiously - and unfortunately for this one, the closest solution I've found that doesn't destroy my clothing is to rely on other forms of stimming, my current favorite being drywashing my hands because then at least they are doing something.

Scavenging is easier to redirect to other things. I currently have a garden and I love scavenging through it for the dopamine rush of a pod of black eyed peas or a perfectly ripe tomato as well as for bugs to toss to the chickens. I also have scattered high value treats (chocolate eclair ice cream bars) in our freezer on occasion for when the scavenging urge gets really bad. Anting is one that I've not found a solution for but is also one that, in my human body, I know that I cannot do so I just resign myself to the mantra, you cannot ant. Instead, showers with a good pressure shower head are heavenly and if I had the choice, I would probably stay in them forever.

For territorial urges, I've found that it ties into what I consider my introverted nature. I do not like large crowds, I find I can be territorial over my home space, my husband, and also over food - while I do share, I don't take kindly to folks helping themselves to my food without asking and the urge to squawk or peck bubbles up very quickly. Now some of this could also tie into my neurodivergence/suspected autism, however this is something that would cost a lot of money to finish the formal diagnosis I started in 2017 - which leads back to my previous statement of Capitalism is dumb.

Managing my instincts and behaviors with the raven side of my identity is surprisingly easy after years of learning to mask. I do have very strong parental instincts towards a lot of birds - eggs are both tasty food but also, at the right time, something I would want to try and incubate - and as a preteen I did try this once putting an egg in a sock drawer - I probably should have candled it first and was very lucky that it did not explode or rot when it became obvious that it wasn't viable. I've been able to satisfy the parental urge by raising chickens. Even if they are not the same species, they help fulfill that parental instinct - especially because chickens are very, very easy to communicate with, being a domesticated animal. If you do not have access to keeping chickens, taking care of a plush bird or being able to volunteer at places that have birds helps in a pinch. Due to issues with behavior and problems inherent in the parrot trade, I don't actually recommend parrots. I got lucky with my lineolated parakeet, but they are all still wild animals -which would be a whole other essay in and of itself.

I also can satisfy some of the cravings for odd animal parts that a scavenging bird would find very valuable, simply from purchasing the offal parts (hearts, livers, tongues, stomach) and cooking them up. As a raven, I would not have had a strong sense of taste and taste is what has gotten me into trouble as a human. Food is amazing and human cuisine is one of the species' greatest inventions. Human jaws and teeth also mean that I can access bone marrow much easier. One craving that I have barely been able to satisfy, however, is the craving of a whole, raw egg. I blame Joanna from the movie The Rescuers Down Under for making raw, in the shell eggs look so delicious. I have not eaten a raw egg in this manner, but the urge is there quite often. This may actually be my most embarrassing and potentially harmful strong urge since salmonella is not a laughing matter. The best replacement I've found are Cadbury Creme Eggs but the flavor isn't perfect and the shell is too thick.

Much like a raven, I do find that I enjoy collecting things that are otherwise useless to others. While rock collections are a common thing, and I'd love to one day categorize all of my rocks, things as seemingly insignificant as gravel have been a part of my rock collection. I remember being a child and bringing home handfuls of gravel that I had specifically sorted as being the best and prettiest gravel - with the occasional juniper berry or interesting seed hulls. This would have kept going had societal pressures not gotten in the way. (This is also something that will have to be discussed in a future essay about the gateway multiple system I am the core or host of.) Now that I am an adult, I still find myself grabbing interesting rocks that may not have any appeal to anyone else, along with the tops of acorns and interesting leaves.

As a raven, I do enjoy mimicking sounds and will do whatever I can to learn different bird calls, animal sounds, and on occasion try to match specific human voices (this latter one is more difficult unless I am singing). This could be tied to the echolalia from being on the spectrum, however it also does match with my raven-ness. The speed at which I have been able to match some calls gives me a lot of euphoria, with the one coming to mind the most being when I learned the vocalizations of condors and vultures in an evening in order to record them for the podcast I host with my husband. This alongside times when I've been able to have conversations with different backyard birds (as well as owls when I was just calling to a Great Horned Owl who was very confused when he saw me) provide an intense sense of species euphoria.

Now, when I'm talking about my experiences and shifts, I need to make clear that I always have some touch of one of these three kintypes/theriotypes/theropotypes going on. Usually it will go between either raven or ceratosaurus, which will be the next one I will be talking about, with regards to perspective and reactions to the world around me. My view of humanity can be confusing on occasion because some things about humanity are incredibly vexing while others make me fall in love with humanity more and more every day. As a raven, life around humans can superficially be the easiest, with more access to food and less predators - however individual humans can sometimes be cruel. On the same end, some humans can also be kind and ravens and crows have been shown to also recognize this - remembering and telling their friends and family about the humans who were kind as well as the humans who were cruel. When misanthropy shows up in the alterhuman community, it tends to trouble me because as a raven, I love humans for all of their perfections and imperfections.

Misanthropy doesn't even occur to the next kintype. This is because this animal has been extinct for about one hundred forty million years and never saw humans in life.

Ceratosaurus

The ceratosaurus kintype is one that I kept pushed down a long time, much like the third one I'll be talking about, and the main reason is because of an issue that pops up in the alterhuman community over and over again. Grilling.

Grilling was possibly born out of a fear of role players, internet trolls, and physical shifting scammers who preyed on the dysphoric members of the community and on the younger members of the community (and often still do to a lesser degree). There was often an overcompensation to some degree where because of role players, the community felt it had to act harsher to vet newcomers, with strict and constant questioning and often the pushing out or disbelieving of polyweres/polytherians - those with more than one theriotype, fictionkin, and people with kintypes that were either not animals or not even living things - plants, objects, elementals, concepts, and others.

This is why I tried to ignore the ceratosaurus side for so long even though it was alongside raven as being one of the strongest self-images I had had for the longest time. Ceratosaurus may even have been the first one my brain said yeah, that's me since I had seen ceratosaurus in dinosaur books before I saw accurate depictions of a raven (since most crows and ravens are colored like choughs instead in cartoons).

The ceratosaurus side has just as strong of phantom and mental shifts as the raven side but they are extremely different. The mental shifts as a ceratosaurus are, for lack of a better term, quieter, because they are what happens when you take a twenty-five foot long theropod dinosaur who had to hunt for their food as well as contend with much larger predators, and put it in the body of an animal that has most of their needs taken care of in one way or another. The ceratosaurus mind isn't as worried about the stresses of human life that the human mind is - or even as worried as the raven mind that observes humans. The ceratosaurus mind knows that the problems that a human faces are stressful to the human, but the ceratosaurus also knows that it does not have to face down an allosaurus or hunt a stegosaurus for its next meal. The ceratosaurus can get annoyed, get angry, but isn't as easily riled up as a human or raven mind when they're experiencing life in the current era.

With the phantom shifts, this is similar to the shifts that I get with the raven, where I'm less experiencing a presence and more experiencing the absence of a tail, the absence of the lacrimal ridge and nasal crest, the absence of osteoderms, scales and large teeth … and oddly enough the absence of feathers which has not been proven in the fossil record for ceratosaurus. This was another thing that kept me from exploring this side of myself as it was something I could not prove. At one time in the therianthropy community, some of the grilling that I witnessed related to similar things such as Blue eyed, black furred wolves cannot exist and I internalized that to try and disprove the feelings that I was having, even calling the ceratosaurus shifts cameo shifts or a misinterpretation of my raven self adjusting to the human body. However, neither ravens nor humans are twenty five feet long.

The strangest shift that I get is a ceratosaurus is related to my size. I am about an average sized individual. When I'm raven minded, I do have a mild feeling of my body being too large for me - complete with clumsiness from trying to control my longer arms and legs, but with the ceratosaurus, I feel too small. I feel like I should be twenty five feet long and with my head about ten feet above the ground (without even getting started on the posture feeling all kinds of incorrect). The feeling is difficult to describe, since it is hard to describe feeling too large for your body. A lot of my experiences regarding ceratosaurus specifically are related to envisage shifts. I tend to see myself as one whenever I am not seeing myself as a raven or as the third identity I will get into later. On occasion, when I am further into this identity, I feel as if I am a ceratosaurus looking through the eyes of a raven that is looking through the eyes of a human.

Instincts when I'm feeling more like a ceratosaurus are not as overpowering, since life is relatively easy for me compared to life in the Jurassic. Any sort of hunting instincts are easily redirected with play or just imagining myself having a successful hunt. Fishing instincts are helped because of the use of tools like fishing rods - something that ceratosaurus brain is ecstatic over - and sometimes I can even direct those instincts into non-food or actual hunting activities, such as bird watching and photography or weeding the garden as I need to be focused and observant when doing these activities.

This leads into another interesting thing as a ceratosaurus. Ravens are omnivores, as are humans. Ceratosaurus was a carnivore and was not around human cultivated plants ever. As such, when I am in a ceratosaurus mindset, human food is the most amazing thing in the world. Carrots, tomatoes, garlic, watermelon, corn - none of these existed or would have been eaten by ceratosaurus and when I'm in a ceratosaurus mindset, I savor these flavors even more. The ceratosaurus is happy to be human. It is ecstatic because it has everything it could have wanted - minus the mammalian things that do still cause dysphoria in this mindset.

Now, a ceratosaurus and a raven are corporeal with specific sizes, specific awareness, and easily describable instincts and thoughts. The same cannot be said for the third identity that I will talk about. When you look behind the human mask, behind the raven mask, and behind the ceratosaurus mask, you will see something whose awareness is entirely alien because it may not even have been aware until it landed on the molten, early Earth.

Stelliferoforme

So this one is the weird one and is one that I do not have a proper name for so I am going with The Stelliferoforme (from stelliferous - meaning having or abounding with stars and forme - from the latin form and greek morpha for bodily form, build) even though it's not one hundred percent accurate but does work enough for the basic form of this identity, being created sometime during the early stelliferous period and being made of the material that makes up stars while also being something that originally was intended to create one (other terms I have played with are Star Soul, Atomic Soul, and Stardust-kin). This is what I feel is the original form of whatever makes up the experience that my soul/atoms/what have you has taken. This is the form prior to the other two forms and encompasses the forms that could be considered cameo shifts or past life shifts. Lives that were formative but didn't shape my soul directly (such as lives trying out plants and deciding they needed to be more mobile or lives as mammals and their ancestors and deciding that mammalian life was not for them please and thank you). Shapes made by the dust or atoms that were forged in a nebula before the formation of earth - that feel so alien that it is hard to quantify because it is not life in the same way a human or a raven or a ceratosaurus would experience it as well as lives that did not form a part of my identity (much like how an experience of playing tag on the playground very much happened but it didn't shape your life in the same way as getting cast in a school play for a child who developed a love of theater).

The Stelliferoforme is the first form, the dust and elements that may have formed a star that may or may not have died out - or may have sent jets of material out towards a newly forming solar system. Being a part of that material and joining the molten ball that was beginning to form and orbit Sol before colliding with another planet. Material that could have ended up on both the cooling planet and the newly formed moon (or may not have). Material that could have been among the material that was hit by an icy comet, struck by lightning, and started to form into the building blocks that would become life. This Stelliferoforme, paradoxically, does not long for the other stars. They are quite happy remaining on earth. Earth has been their home since the first time they gained what we would consider consciousness as life began to form. Earth was where they became aware. Earth is home.

The shifts for a Stelliferoforme are difficult to describe because a body is alien to it. When I try to focus on it and peel apart the layers, I find myself feeling as if I am the atoms of carbon, helium, hydrogen, etc but not knowing what they are called because stars and stardust don't have the same names for themselves. The gasses in a Nebula don't know they are called oxygen, hydrogen or helium. The specks of dust don't know their atomic number. They barely know the form they take or will take and being in a contained physical body is incredibly alien. They feel too big and too small. They feel cramped and yet too free. Sensations are overwhelming and addicting all at once.

They know and don't know so much. They don't understand how light and color works and yet they have an intimate knowledge of it in a way that doesn't make sense to an organic being's brain. A mental shift as a Stelliferoforme is both incredibly quiet and overwhelmingly loud. The Stelliferroforme cannot do math, cannot sing, cannot talk and yet they have so much to say, the numbers pull to them even if they cannot understand them, and music is their language.

The experience of human life as a Stelliferoforme is one that puts context to what they are. They can look into books now and learn words that describe what they know and use other words to describe what isn't written. They can experience sensations they would never have experienced if they had coalesced into a Proper Star as they had once been attempting to do. They could not create a star, a solar system, collapse into a black hole - maybe creating something new in it's collapse - as a star would imagine their life cycle to be if they could imagine such a thing, but as a human, they can create a universe of their own - stories are one of the things that fascinates the Stelliferoforme the most because in creating stories, whole new universes are spawned with rules that reflect the mind of the creator.

The Stelliferoforme is compelled to create and experience because the material was there to form a star, to create a planetary system of their own, but the forces of gravity weren't in their favor. In another universe, perhaps this material is currently a star in the same stages as our current sun - perhaps even part of a star system, with their own planetary bodies and asteroid belts, pulling comets into their orbits to create a fiery display in the skies of the planets that encircle it.

But they did not become a star and instead joined other bits of star material on the molten earth - and they like it better that way because they have had more varied experiences than they would have had as a star. Through landing on earth, they could experience consciousness, sentience … and sapience.

What's in a name?

Labels in the alterhuman community have been a sticky subject for myself. I began in the community as otherkin first and foremost as that was the term I had been introduced to in high school. I should add that I had seen descriptions of therians and weres (more commonly weres) in the early 2000s but I was not active on the internet due to stranger danger fears. Otherkin worked for the most part until I discovered the therian/therianthrope label, which was what I threw myself into mostly (and in retrospect, this hindered my own personal development as therianthropy forums and websites had some cultures that did not quite mesh with my own gnosis and so in order to be a proper therian, I tried to fit the mold and over question myself, leading to a lot of confusion and identity issues that resolved when I took an unplanned hiatus in the mid to late 2010s to focus on attempting a teaching career (perhaps an essay on how underpaying and overworking teachers is what wass leading to the teacher shortages long before Covid is in order). During this time, I still was a raven. I still had dinosaur shifts that I was trying to explain away, and I still had that nebulous (pun intended) feeling of something else being there.

Rejoining the communities that have names that sound and like they would first on the surface but have their own history and very different definitions, i.e. starseed and celestials).

Perhaps the terms aren't as important. If I say I am otherkin and list off my types, save for the stelliferoforme, anyone with a basic understanding has a bit of an idea about what I am. It's not a perfect fit still, but it's an entry point.

So what am I? Well, theropodanthrope is something I've toyed with but it doesn't shorten to anything other than theropod and it is more derivative of what I used to call myself. It also leaves out the integral star part of myself - the stelliferoforme part of who I am. If I wanted to simply use raven-kin, ceratosaurus-kin, and Star Souled or spacekin, I could (and in fact Star Soul or stelliferoforme is a term to separate myself from other communities that have names that sound and like they would first on the surface but have their own history and very different definitions, i.e. starseed and celestials).

Perhaps the terms aren't as important. If I say I am otherkin and list off my types, save for the stelliferoforme, anyone with a basic understanding has a bit of an idea about what I am. It's not a perfect fit still, but it's an entry point.

However, because of the way that the identities interact, perhaps stelliferoforme is the best name for the base identity - star stuff that has taken forms that have been the most impactful and shaped itself as such. A raven and ceratosaurus stelliferoforme.

The Whys of ilrak

So now that we have covered the three different aspects of my identity, we will talk about the whys. As I said, I am rather agnostic regarding my identity as if it turns out the cause is purely psychological, I am alright with that. If it turns out to be purely spiritual or metaphysical, that is also ok. It will just better explain why I am the way I am. I do prefer to lean into a metaphysical cause because psychologically, I have not found much to confirm exactly why I am a stelliferoforme, a ceratosaurus, or a raven. I can point to traits and say this is probably related to my autism but it doesn't explain the absence/phantom shifts. This is when it is a little easier to try and look for a metaphysical cause.

In my own case, because of the nature of these identities and that without one another I would be hollow, I like to compare it to a nesting doll. In the center is the core identity. It was what first gained consciousness and is what the experiences are being built on with each life or iteration of life the cosmic material is experiencing. The Stelliferoforme is what is the smallest doll inside the nesting doll - or to use the mask analogy, is what is wearing all the masks. However, it is not something that experiences life in the same way as an organic being so it needs a filter to experience it.

The ceratosaurus is the next filter (and while, in a drawing I did, it is the larger of the dolls, the ceratosaurus is actually a filter or doll nested within the raven). This is a life or an experience that left such a mark on the Stelliferoforme that it formed part of the shape it preferred - bipedal, feathered, reptilian rather than mammalian - and this form persisted as a preferred form as long as it was extant. Were there other lives prior to this or after this but prior to a raven life? Absolutely, but they did not leave the same impact on the core identity. Life as an early mollusk was interesting but the oceans were scary. Life as an early tree was long and fascinating but movement was missed. Life as a Dimetrodon spelled the end of life in the mammal line (until human) simply because mammalian traits were a big NO to the stelliferoforme. Other archosaur lives before the evolution of ceratosaurus were close but not what the stelliferoforme enjoyed. Then along comes a dinosaur that is bipedal and enjoys being flamboyant and flashy - to the point where it is the theropod dinosaur most known for it's crests and osteoderms, and it decides this is the form it prefers (until the form goes extinct and then it's a scramble to hop from horned dinosaur to horned dinosaur in all available groups until the non-avian dinosaurs go extinct - which then leads to lives as birds).

The raven is the third filter and until this current life was the most recent filter. This is the filter that has been around since about the Miocene, enjoying lives as different types of ravens throughout the world (explaining why I identify with more than one species of raven), being curious about humans but not wanting to be one. Being a raven was comfortable and fun. It was a way to experience a new level of thought and ability and there was so much to experience even as a bird - but all things must come to an end.

The human part of this is going to be expanded upon in an essay regarding fictive that joined the system at the end of 2022, because if the metaphysical explanation of my alterhumanity is considered, then the choice that was made after my last raven life was a catalyst for a fork in the road and, much like with the possibility of different actions creating infinite universes, one universe split off where I decided to give the human thing a go while in this universe I dug my heels in and had to be pushed into a human life later than I was in the other universe. My personal belief is that, in being pushed to incarnate as human, I decided to try and get as many human experiences crammed into one life as possible to limit the amount of time I was in the strange mammal body. Perhaps this is why I so easily was converted to (read: scared into) Christianity - and why I have constantly been on the Medical Mystery Tour since childhood.

While experiencing dysphoria from being in a feminine, mammalian body is difficult and I find myself very mismatched in my body, I am glad that I ended up in the form that I did. It helped me meet the love of my lives and find someone who was on a similar wavelength as myself. This life has helped me find words to describe what and who I am and to write them down in case they help someone else on a similar journey. I would never have been able to have a somewhat concrete way of explaining this experience as a raven that I do as a human (ravens have not invented any easily translatable forms of passing on stories outside of oral tradition and until a raven to any human language dictionary is written, we won't truly know the stories told around a carcass or to the hatchlings in the nest). I have discovered the joys of coffee, chocolate, and highly developed taste buds. Most importantly, I can be with the love of my lives who, if I had been a raven this go around, I would never have been able to be with him because humans and ravens are not romantically compatible (much less ceratosaurs or star material).

Though this doesn't stop me from occasionally wanting to do a display dance for my husband that would look incredibly silly without feathers or crests. Maybe I can convince him we should be birds next time … or perhaps a binary star system.

In Conclusion …

Being a raven and ceratosaurus stelliferoforme is how I view the world and has shaped my life in ways that I still am trying to find the right words for. The more layers I pull back, the more it seems I need to find better words to describe them. I am star material that is wearing the masks from the forms that have most defined who I was and who I am currently and through those masks, I see and experience the world differently than others. I'm star material looking through the eyes of a ceratosaurus, who is looking through the eyes of a raven, who is now living out their life with a human mask. They are all as equally me as I am them. They are who I have always been and who I will be throughout the rest of my lives. These ephemeral and nonphysical identities influence me just as much as my physical ones. They intersect with my neurodivergence and my spirituality and are what have shaped who I am today. If it turns out that only one of the possible causes is correct, or that neither is, it will be alright because that doesn't change who I am or the experiences that I've had.

The experiences as a raven and ceratosaurus stelliferoforme aren't even the strangest I have lived through. They in fact have made me more open minded to others' identities and experiences. In sharing my own experience with discovering and embracing who I am, I hope to maybe make the journey a little easier for the next alterhuman who is feeling alone in the community or who feels they have a weird kintype that they cannot easily describe and are worried they won't be taken seriously.

The experiences as a raven and ceratosaurus stelliferoforme aren't even the strangest I have lived through. They in fact have made me more open minded to others' identities and experiences. In sharing my own experience with discovering and embracing who I am, I hope to maybe make the journey a little easier for the next alterhuman who is feeling alone in the community or who feels they have a weird kintype that they cannot easily describe and are worried they won't be taken seriously.

[ollieofthebeholder]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks @fridayyy-13th for the tag!

How many works do you have on Ao3? 64!

What's your total Ao3 word count? Holy...! Uh, 1,700,611. (I should've guessed, I've got some ultra-long fics on there, but Jesus Christ on a cracker.)

What fandoms do you write for? These days, mostly The Magnus Archives. I've also written for Star Trek (primarily the AOS/Kelvin films), the MCU/Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Cut & Run, and RQG. I've got a couple of very, very old Sherlock fics, a couple PJO fics from some ship week challenges I took part in back when the Heroes of Olympus books were still coming out, a couple WTNV fics, a few Star Wars fics that never made it to AO3, and three one-offs.

What are your top five fics by kudos? leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) - 1,758 kudos Had He Known It - 777 kudos Whiskey Lullaby - 395 kudos It Was Just My Imagination Telling Lies - 378 kudos Hurry Up and Slow Me Down - 349 kudos

Do you respond to comments? Every single one! It's half the fun to me.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Ooh...that's a toughie, actually, but I'm going to go with Where the Road Waits to be Taken because it's the only one where the ending focuses on the people left behind.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Also a toughie! But I'm going to go with Love Will Find Out the Way.

Do you get hate on fics? Not so much anymore. I've been around long enough that I definitely used to, but I write for saner fandoms now.

.Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Not these days. I'm asexual and, while I'm personally sex-averse, my tolerance for it in fiction kind of goes in cycles. I think the last time I wrote an explicit sex scene was in 2016 or 2017.

.Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Heh...I do, on occasion. Most recently the WTNV/TMA crossover (the full extent of which hasn't been published yet), which isn't that crazy. I think the craziest one I wrote was the Sherlock/Star Trek crossover that was also (sigh) a HP AU...which I have deleted, so sorrynotsorry.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not as far as I know, but I don't exactly go looking.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Again, not as far as I know.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Uh...technically? My brother had an idea for a fic, but he wasn't old enough to join any fanfic websites at the time (we were probably the only two kids who never lied about our age on the internet to join websites), so he dictated it to me, I fleshed it out and posted it under my username.

What's your all time favorite ship? I love so many, but I have to say, the only ship I love that I genuinely can call an OTP in that I cannot fathom them in a relationship with anyone else (even adding anyone else to the equation) is Cecilos. JonMartin is a close second, but, well, I can see (and frequently enjoy) them also having other people in their relationships. Cecil and Carlos? Nuh-uh.

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Ooh. There are...a couple. But I have a WIP sitting in my Tumblr drafts that was a sequel to Hurry Up and Slow Me Down that I would very much like to finish someday...I just, yeah.

What are your writing strengths? Angst and heartbreak. I've got a gift for descriptions, and I'm really good at conveying emotion in text. And I think I have a knack for putting together a tasty sentence.

What are your writing weaknesses? I do tend to get hung up on irrelevant details, and I frequently think myself into a corner. I also think I tend to obsess sometimes about things being perfect...and if I'm being honest, a big weakness of mine (not just in my writing, but in general) is that I often feel like it's something I need to apologize for, which is not helpful.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Oh, I love doing that! I try to put a translation in hover text, and also in a footnote for benefit of screen readers, but I also try not to burden the actual text with translations. It's one of those "trust the reader to know what you're trying to say, and if they can't figure it out from context, you have failed as a writer" things to me. (This may have something to do with the fact that I used to write Star Trek fanfic, and conlangs are a thing.)

First fandom you wrote for? If you want to get technical, Power Rangers; I used to tell myself stories about the Power Rangers to put myself to sleep at night when I was a little kid, and once I wrote one down and read it out loud for Show and Tell. (The opening line was "One night, when Kimberly and Trini were sleeping, they were stolen," which should tell you everything you need to know about it. In my defense, I was seven.) I didn't know that's what it was at the time, though. If you're talking fandoms that I wrote for knowing it was a fandom and published on the internet...well, I grew up in the '90s and turned thirteen in the early '00s, so it probably shouldn't be that big of a surprise that it was HP.

Favorite fic you've written? It's like asking me to pick a favorite child. I am deeply in love with to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest) even if the next chapter is currently frustrating me a bit, because I am always deeply in love with my current project, because I love the way it showcases how I've grown as an author. That being said, I think my favorite fic that is currently complete might actually be Tomorrow When the World Is Free.

Tagging (absolutely no pressure) @blasphemous-lies-and-deceit, @amberastra, @magnetarmadda, @astudyinfic, @dyscalculated, and anyone else who wants to give this a go!

[wynetteblogtime]

Journal Entry No. 3 (BLOG): Is Media Necessary for Globalization? My Response: Yep it Totally is!

Observation

While reading the article, I was familiar with the relationship between K-fashion and media in the Philippines. When I was still in High School, I had classmates and friends who were downright obsessed with K-pop idols and would carry the photocards of their biases in top loaders hooked to their IDs and their bags. They would imitate dances from their idols and talk about Korean makeup and fashion trends. Even in college, I still encounter many of my peers who are big fans of certain K-pop groups. I have a friend from the film program who has photocards of his bias framed on the wall in front of his desk, but I digress.

Insight

It is clear that despite being slightly above the poverty line, also known as the "wash line", Filipinos are well-versed in using technology and can be active "receivers" of information on trends as well as the trends themselves. According to the Data Reportal, "The Philippines was home to 84.45 million social media users in January 2023, equating to 72.5 percent of the total population." (Kemp, 2023). This connects to the article's point on how Filipinos are well-versed in non-traditional media and can use it to their benefit as a way to afford K-fashion goods, and other products from Korea in general. By way of buying tickets online and downloading songs illegally. The article also mentions the purchase of counterfeit clothing, which is not uncommon in the Philippines, Sanchez states, "Similar to how most Kpop fans download their music from free websites, they get their K-fashion fix beyond “authentic” clothing stalls and shopping sites that directly import Korean products." (Sanchez, 2017). I feel that this topic is in line with Sir Geoffrey's lecture, how as a result of new media, contact with other cultures increases as we are exposed to their culture via social media. This can be seen already in the K-fashion article as it describes how Korean brands are being established in the Philippines, as well as how K-pop music circulates across the net via free releases or illegal downloads. Another example that can be offered based on my experience is whenever I search for makeup online, K-makeup is often promoted in Shopee, such as Rom&nd, as you can see in the image below. Discounts and coupons are being offered already, which correlates to the same point mentioned in the article, "The Filipinos are versed with the non-traditional media that will allow them to consume goods for a much lower price—or even for free." (Sanchez, 2017).

Learning

Media has such a massive impact on the lives of every person, especially the young people of today. As mentioned in the first section, I have a lot of friends who engage in K-pop actively, as well as invest a lot of time in social media in general. I am the same, as social media is becoming more prominent, and how everyone is designated as a "content creator", I personally feel that this will blur the lines between making memories, sharing them for fun, and producing content meant to be consumed but not truly meaning anything at all. Putting these thoughts aside, I think that Hallyu will last for a very long time since many trends and girl/boy groups will rise and just as quickly fall like sand in an hourglass, it is only a matter of time until the hourglass flips over and the cycle is anew. I think that the analogy of a washing machine is quite fitting, I found it quite interesting. It truly is a neverending cycle. "The world is like a washing machine: It could stop turning, but it will eventually begin another wash cycle." (Sanchez, 2017).

Sources: Arasa, D. (2023, July 7). Philippines tops online usage in Asia Pacific | Inquirer Technology. INQUIRER.net. https://technology.inquirer.net/125748/philippines-highest-time-online#:~:text=Conclusion,internet%20roughly%2010%20hours%20daily. Cruz, G. (n.d.). Global Media Culture [Video]. Zoom. https://bigsky.benilde.edu.ph/d2l/le/content/292599/viewContent/2538335/View Kemp, S. (2023, February 8). Digital 2023: The Philippines — DataReportal – Global Digital Insights. DataReportal – Global Digital Insights. https://datareportal.com/reports/digital-2023-philippines#:~:text=Internet%20use%20in%20the%20Philippines,at%20the%20start%20of%202023. Rom&nd. (n.d.). Rom&nd, Online Shop. https://shopee.ph/romand_official.ph Sanchez, C. (2017). K-fashion and Technology-driven Globalization in the Philippine Setting. Retrieved from https://journals.ateneo.edu/ojs/index.php/aiks/article/download/2733/2606

[dizzymoods]

#literally why would you even. pirate this shit#what's not clicking about ducking genocides that you think your vapidity matters ever#stop consuming shit from. monopolies its 2023 get some balls and do ground work why the fuck u still stuck watching#media by genocidal institutions ffs no need to pirate anymore#all the things produced from here on by companies is worthless#capitalism

This is not helpful. Consuming media is neither reactionary nor revolutionary. What you watch says nothing about you other than the fact that you watched it. You can watch something for near infinite reasons. This is the attendant critique of liberal identity politics/representation: Consumption is not a politic.

The Battle of Algeirs has been a go-to text for anticolonial movements. From the Black Panthers, IRA, and yes, even Palestinians. They used it as a training for organizational formations and guerrilla warfare techniques. The US State Department watched it in the lead up to the invasion of Afghanistan and learned fuck all. The point is, how you use a film can be more important than the text of the film itself. This is a fundamental aspect of third cinema.

In the case of KotFM, one can torrent it to see if anti-indigenous narratives persist, then demonstrate how the history is whitewashed. There is value here. This is a long standing tradition of film criticism. It teaches people how to spot propaganda, which is increasingly necessary in this media illiterate world. And if you take $16 from paramount great who cares. Not to be a maoist but you must always combat liberalism and revisionism. And you can't do that if you don't engage with reactionary crap to learn how to combat it.

This is besides the fact that most people are not savvy enough to find media that isn't touched by a monopoly or funded by dark money. That's kind of the point of a monopoly; this is a big issue with streaming. And people who are savvy enough still watch media produced by conglomerates because consumption is not a politic and they do produce good shit.

You as an individual deciding whether or not to see the movie doesn't change the fact that the movie was made, Scorsese's check cleared, and Paramount gave a million to Israel.

The point of the post was meant to show the contradictions between empire and media products. Hollywood has a particular history with American foreign policy, something ive talked about before and this is another manifestation of that relationship.

Pirating is vital to film preservation and re-discovery. Disney won't even release prints for repertory screenings of the R rated movies in its Fox catalog let a lone put them on Bluray or Disney+. These movies are still available bc people had pirated them years back. This includes major releases vital to Black, queer, and women's film histories. I ripped one of the only two VHS copies of the LA Rebellion classic Bless Their Little Hearts back in the day and hosted it on youtube. That was the only way to see the film until Milestone put it out 5 years after. The work of Edward Yang has (almost?) entirely been remastered because people on this website were sharing screencaps of crappy bootlegs of Taipei Story and Brighter Summer Day. And guess what!? Scorsese was involved in funding those restorations and the arthouse home media monopoly criterion owns the publishing rights. Does it suck, yes. But that's the hand we've been dealt. Again, something ive spoken about.

The sentiment represented in the above tags is the very vapidity it seeks to critique. Your consumption habits don't mean much of anything. Thinking it takes balls not to watch a hollywood movie is a level of narcissism even im not capable of.

One of my longest standing #thots on film criticism is that the text itself is sometimes not sufficient enough as a critic of a film.

There is no cognitive dissonance here. Paramount made Killers of the Flower Moon to make money and to make someone’s producer son an Oscar nominee. They don’t care about the Osage murders. They care about the profitability of it. At the same time Israel is necessary, as a glorified US military base, to maintain US hegemonic power and thus economic power, which Paramount benefits from. So of course Paramount supports Israel and its subsidiaries like CBS Entertainment Group are going to cut zionist propaganda.

This also demonstrates again that liberal identity politics and representation don’t mean anything materially. A movie might make you feel seen (whatever that means outside of narcissistic consumption) but beyond that it’s just pretty shadow puppetry.

[jesslynbluetarot]

Originally posted: 11.7.21 on jesslynbluetarot.com

Photo Cred: IG @kevinliangphotos

How did I get here?

Reading tarot cards? Oracle Cards? Pendulums? Astrodice? For friends and family in living rooms and kitchen tables and project apartment floors to Jesslyn Blue Tarot?

This website? Reading tarot for a major tech company in California? Doing personal readings on Zoom and pop-ups and event bookings? Everything? 

Tarot was, simply put, one outlet. 

Ever since I was a child, I knew there was more to this world than what we could see. There was more than the physical... I was experiencing unexplainable things at a young age, unsure of what was even happening to me. It felt familiar, yet confusing. Fun, yet uncontrollable. My hunches in college always turned out to be right. The rest of our friends did forget their I.D.'s in a haste to leave the dorms and now they can't get in, therefore we all came in the same car and now we all leave in the same car. I never ordered one drink. Something told me we weren't staying very long. 

The only thing I could think of was the esoteric, spiritual, and ancient. It must make it make sense. I was green, but I was on the right path. The online information I found felt jumbled and inconclusive, possibly too mature for my young mind, also realize, it was the time of dial-up internet. My sights turned to library books and any books I could find at Barnes & Noble, thrift stores, and occult-specific shops. 

One lucky day... I found a small, pocket-sized tarot deck. It included a concise guidebook. That day swung a door wide open within me that could never be closed... The pursuit of the unknown. Most of the knowledge I have accumulated on spirituality, psychic abilities, the craft, and divination tools have been through personal experiences, reading, consulting other psychics, reiki healers, tarot readers, spiritualists, and seeking many answers from within myself. 

It's no joke when people say: all answers are within. 

Through meditations, trances, and shroom journeys, I have only enhanced my overall wellbeing, spiritual understanding, and spiritual gifts. 

My parents were raised to practice the Christian religion. My mother, a devout churchgoer every Sunday; a part of the community, constantly a helping hand. She would take my pentacle necklaces off. Warned me of what I may be dabbling into. It was such ignorance and miscommunication. 

But I felt at home in my new studies with my tarot cards. They were a constant companion. 

There was a period of solitary study before anyone was aware of my tarot deck. 

When stepping into anything esoteric... that differs from the Judeo-Christian-Islamic religions that people were raised in, it is a shift in one's perception of the world around them. You are entering a new world. You may still be in the same world, but it is not the same anymore.  

The more aware I became... practiced my tarot, built my confidence, purchased more books, spoke with older readers... the more I shouted to the rooftops what I could do with tarot. Offered tarot readings after my poetry features. Offered tarot readings on our lunch breaks during acting gigs. On breaks at modeling gigs. People formed lines. I met amazing individuals. Got follow-up DMs. Phone calls. Texts. It was a sense of serving a purpose that filled and motivated me. 

I told anyone and everyone that I was offering tarot readings. When entering a poetry event or a film festival cocktail hour, I mentioned my tarot services. Mentioned how I wanted to help. Give these divine messages. Give this guidance. I enjoy reading tarot, connecting to the divine, and being of help to someone's journey.

When an audition came along for a tarot reader in December of 2020, I hopped on it. Enough said. They were impressed and I was booked for Mongo DB's virtual "Reinvent." My gratitude to them and Malka Media! Ashe! That experience pushed me forward. Think bigger, I told myself. 

But there were many bumps along this road. Abusive partners that downplayed my abilities and were energy vampires. Family members that weren't very supportive. These dark times required delving inside of myself to secure a solid footing in who I was and what I knew to be true with all of my being. Reconfirming what I was currently capable of and what the future also had in store regarding the evolution of my capabilities. How do I do this without a brick-and-mortar establishment? I'm a SAG-AFTRA actor. I work long hours on sets. I do comedy improv. I model. I'm a poet. A writer. An artist. An American gypsy in this crazy world. Gig work. Etc. Clients may be far away. How do we reach each other? How do I set liveable rates that are also affordable for a divination practice? That, too, was super conflicting. Some would scoff. Even told me I should never charge for a tarot reading. It was a gift to keep on giving. I needed to always be able to help people.

Mind you, all of this I have absolutely reflected on as I moved into taking my tarot skills more seriously and actively advertising this business.  I am spiritual, but I am practical. We walk a fine line. Let's just say, I would never turn away a person in need.

Thus, jesslynbluetarot.com was born in September of 2021. Available for: live Zoom readings, emailed pre-recorded video readings, or event bookings. Even without the website, I'm happy to accept bookings via email: jesslynbluetarot@gmail.com. The right clients that need me are now able to easily find me. What is meant to be is meant to be... and it will never pass you by. 

Like I said, tarot, simply put, is one outlet. 

Ashe.

- Jesslyn Blue Tarot

[grad604-designresearch-es]

W03 Lecture Notes

These notes were adapted from a peer in the W03 lecture as I was absent. I have re-worked them and followed the instructions of Canvas / lecture slides in order to understand the content I had missed.

Library Skills

Identify useful resources/collections. Practice applying search techniques to diff resources. Find help with reading, note-taking, writing, and referencing. Finding info for assignments.

Google Library AUT database

Book/ebook, filmed interview, statistics, magazines, conference talk, academic journal, image of object, studio website.

On canvas - course resources AUT library - Levels 5/6 in or online

Subject Specific Searching

AUT library website - way to search everything inside the library: books, ebooks, AUT theses, and academic articles from 2000+ databases.

AUT google scholar - google's subset of academic/scholarly writing, mainly articles, book chapters and theses. always access via library website for more full text materials | Databases on AUT library - subject/resources.

Google - can still be useful when beginning research, but don't forget to take the research further, other open sources like an archive are useful.

Bloomsbury design library - articles from design encyclopaedias, ebooks, chapters on design, biographies, images Bloomsbury Design Library BLOOMSBURY.COM

NZ Research - NZRESEARCH.ORG.NZ Artstor - LIBRARY-ARTSTOR-ORG.EZPROXY.AUT.AC.NZ Digital NZ - DIGITALNZ.ORG Kanopy - KANOPY.COM

How to library + art & design guide = resources Searching - How to (example - tactile picture books)

"Search using key words - whats ur topic? whats your question? Critical ideas? -- tactile, picture books. -- Think of other ways to describe your topic (don't know what an article may be describing something as so helps find what ur aiming for). -- tangible, interactive, haptic -- children's book, illustration books, graphic novels. -- Can get more specific, or more broad. Put any fraises in quotation marks - this keeps two words together. Jump from on source to another - to do thins you can go through the bibliography in an article and see where may have found their info. Or, you can go to google scholar and see where an article has been cited - and how they used that info. Search for other works by the same author. Look within that article for new key words. For writing, reading, note-taking help: _Your_Library on Canvas."

[skelermin]

Hi there! I’m your local safety regulation pervert and I’ve spent an exhaustive amount of time looking into this. I cannot stress to you how much these people were spitting in the face of fate at every step of this. Here’s a good look at this submarine there people were in.

That thing is called the Oceangate Titan and it’s basically an overly expensive coffin. Here’s some details from the company’s own website basically bragging that the vessel was not rated or classified by any kind of safety organization.

They basically outline here that they didn’t go through the classing process because they felt it restricted their “innovation“.

Also, if playing My Heart Will Go On as they descended to see the historical inspiration of the film that song is a reference to wasn’t ironic enough. Through my reading on sea vessel safety regulations, I learned that these very regulations were put in place specifically due to the event of the sinking of the Titanic. The regulations I read through are the US Coast Guard’s Navigation and Vessel Inspection Circular No. 5-93 which is a fairly old document but after a good bit of digging it’s the most recent set of inspection criteria I can find. It has specific parameters for passenger submersibles like the one you see here. I also looked through the Code of Federal Regulations and the International Convention for Safety of Life At Sea (SOLAS) which is the main regulatory body of International sea vessel safety.

I can only assume these are the inspection criteria that Oceangate found so constricting to their innovation. As someone who’s seen a lot of inspection guidelines I can’t say this seems particularly outrageous. The fact that they brag about not being rated as defined above sets off huge red flags for me.

The big one that first jumped out at me and got me looking into this was the fact that the occupants are literally bolted into this thing from the outside. I’ve worked in Egress systems before so I knew the second I saw that what this one was going to say. Almost anything you might need to escape from will require 2 exits and they’d need to be appropriately marked, visible, and unobstructed.

If you ever look at a building, plane, or a ship, you should be able to identify emergency exits at a glance with no issues. I can only assume the people who designed this particular submarine didn’t want ugly markings and unsightly hatch handles on their sleek and futuristic sub design.

Now I’m not an expert on sea vessels so if there’s anyone reading this who knows more I’d love your input. Here are some things I found which I tried my best to identify in the pictures given of the inside and outside of the submarine. From what I understand they were using text messages to relay their position though that could be a rumor spreading around. Regardless I think if they had any form of beacon or communication method they could use, they would have been found by now. I also can’t find anything that looked like an emergency ballast anywhere on the outside of the vessel.

There are just some gee whizz details I found while I was reading. Also some things I imagine would have been noted in any kind of safety inspection though these don’t seem like a requirement.

I fully believe these people are dead but considering one of them was the CEO responsible for this mistake of engineering and the rest or billionaires who wanted to play around at the bottom of the ocean I can’t say I feel much sympathy for them. Remember kids: YOUR SAFETY REGULATIONS ARE WRITTEN IN BLOOD. Thanks for reading.

Oh those people are TURBO dead

[fortunatelyshywonderland]

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His pages were up there, ranking well. But the title and description that appeared in the list of options Google brought up did nothing to intrigue searchers. I could tell right away that he was losing potential visitors right from the start, despite its stellar rankings. The people who had searched for one of the terms that brought up his page just weren't being drawn to click on his website listing.

Google maps the seo audits new trend will help search engines find all the important web pages you want to index. It's important that you make a site map for your visitors as well - that means a collection of plain text links to the most important categories of your website.

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If your home needs more than the most minor fixes, it's well keywords worth it to pay for a professional audit. You'll save more than enough to cover the cost.