#I'm a rural player

[pokemongoloresociety]

This is why I love Tumblr and I encourage the Leader-Loving Niantic Hating base to stick around with the online GO fandom. It's sad to see such good characters wasted in bad hands, but the people who appreciate them keep them alive.

Part of the reason why I still play and GO and bother with Twitter (because most of the 'story' stuff is fed there) is to engage in the game enough to get some context and give more material for the fandom, myself included, to play with in their fanworks, dreams, speculations, and shameless, out-of-control, lust.

No need to miss them. Even if Niantic shits the bed, the fandom will still be here.

I don’t care for niantic at all but the characters? the characters ill miss

[maximumzombiecreator]

I've seen a lot of posts recently where people say they can't find players to play non-5e TTRPGs with. As someone who moves countries every few years, I've had to rebuild my roster of local TTRPG players from scratch a number of times. Here's how I do it.

Caveats first: while I've done this in small cities, I have always done it in cities. If you're in, like, a rural environment, you might just not have enough interested people around. You can always do it online in that case. I'm not really going to cover finding players online, except to say you should probably look for communities for the specific system you want to play. Most of them are enthusiastically looking for new participants. Especially game masters.

Okay, first things first, you gotta find people. I generally find I get better results if the search is location first. That is, rather than using city-wide or regional Looking For Group type internet groups, I look for physical locations that host gaming groups. Local game stores, public libraries, gaming cafes/bars, etc.

Being location first helps avoid some common bad behaviours. Online LFG groups often have a few shitty people hanging around who can't find long term groups because they're shitty. They'll jump at the opportunity to join new groups where people don't know them, because everyone else knows better than to game with them. But location-based groups are better at filtering this. Someone who harasses people at an LGS can be banned from the store, but decentralized online groups struggle to handle these situations in my personal experience.

Being location first also solves the next problem, which is giving you a location to play. Eventually, when I have a long term group, I'll host games in my home. But there needs to be a level of trust before that feels safe, and we're looking for randoms, so for now we need a public gaming venue. If, for whatever reason, there aren't dedicated gaming spaces where you can do this, I've had the most success gaming in cafes or restaurants during off peak hours. I've run a bunch of games in restaurants from, like, 2pm-5pm on a Saturday, and as long as you're buying drinks and some snacks or something, and being polite and non-disruptive, it's typically not too hard to get permission.

Now, if that local group has enough interest in a non-5e system that I'm interested in running, I'll happily do that, and it's pretty free from there. Most people who are willing to play one other system will gladly try others if they find they like playing with you. But even in big cities, I feel it's pretty often the case that postings for local games of other systems don't wind up actually finding successful groups.

So, here is the bit where, unfortunately, finding people to play non-5e games with involves playing some 5e. Community groups are always looking for more GMs to run games, so I will set out to run a number of short 5e adventures, each with different groups. These are typically oneshots that I have the option of extending for another 1 or 2 sessions.

I always run adventures that I've written myself for these, because I want my particular GMing style to really come through. Looking for players is a two way street. I'm looking for people I like GMing for, but I'm also looking to make sure they know what they're getting. Especially if I'm going to ask them to play a system they've never tried, they should know that there's going to be something they enjoy. So, these short adventures are full of the types of silly but sincere NPCs I tend to run, the open-ended scenarios I prefer, the tropes I favour, etc. If someone isn't going to enjoy playing with me, I want them to know it from this adventure.

I structure the adventures to give me a lot of flexibility in terms of how long they run. They're nearly always mysteries, but with some active component to the mystery, so that if things drag or dawdle I can have the villain show up and force a final confrontation. They're also structured to have a natural "next thing." You find and defeat the villain, but there's an implied next villain you'll be going after. That way, if the group is working well and I want to continue, it's easy to present the option to the group. But if I'm not interested in continuing with the group, the next thing can just serve as an "and the adventures continue" implied epilogue, and the game still feels complete.

I don't like players just bringing their own character sheet to the table. Someone who brings a disruptive character can ruin a session without me getting much useful information out of it, other than that I don't want to play with that person. And if it ruins the experience for the other players, I'm often out the opportunity to game with those people, through neither of our faults. I've experimented with both asking players to submit their characters in advance or making them choose between a collection of premade characters. The former is a good check for whether people will put in a basic amount of effort and follow instructions, but it can dissuade people who are just looking to dip their toes into playing for the first time. The latter can turn off players who are into crunchy games and are excited about character building. As a result, I'll usually choose the approach based on what non-5e system I'm currently most excited about running. Do I want to get together a group for a rules-light game? Premade characters it is. Looking to run some PF2e? Please submit your character sheet in advance. Some locations also do more drop-in based games, in which case it's premades all day.

As I'm running the game, I'm observing the players. There's a simple vibe check, obviously. Do I like playing with this person? But I'm also looking at how they play. What are they here for, what's exciting them? Are they struggling with finding optimal turns in combat, or do they like mastering a system? Are they curious about the world, or do they glaze over when the spotlight isn't on them? Do they light up in dialogue scenes? Do they want to try crazy things outside of their on-sheet abilities? Remember, later, I'm going to try to persuade this person to try to play a game they've never played before. I need to know what specifically is going to excite them.

I have (always with permission) recorded sessions before to go over in making these choices, but honestly even just a few small reminder notes will help me unravel things later. If a session goes well, I'll ask at the end for people to give me their contact information if they'd be interested in playing again. Non-committal, at their comfort, and it doesn't single out people that I don't want to play with. I can always just not call them. Usually I find I'm interested in playing again with a little more than half of the players I meet this way. In my experience, it's fairly rare for a player to say they're not interested in playing again, TTRPGs rule and there's a DM shortage.

What I usually do is keep running these until I have enough people in mind to run something else, even if it isn't the system I'm most excited about. Probably it would be better to spend more time in this starter phase building up more connections, but after running like 4-5 5e adventures, I'm usually more than ready to run anything else, and if I have to shelve my Lancer ideas because I've mostly found crunch-averse players, I'm usually fine with that.

So, next comes the invites. Now, most players I meet this way will eventually be open to playing most games, but listen: you can put people well out of their comfort zone for their third TTRPG, but you gotta be real careful with their second. Most of the time, the game I'm inviting people to will be their first real exposure to a non-5e TTRPG. If they don't like it, they will run back to the safety of 5e and you will never get them out of it again. So I am very careful in picking the right system for the players I am inviting.

Whatever the new system I want to run is, I will set up a pilot session for it. I am very clear to players that I will teach them the system at the session, they do not need to know it in advance. Eventually, when I have a reliable group of TTRPG people to play with, I'll expect them to be able to pick up systems without a ton of help, but for players that are only used to the complexity of 5e, the idea of learning a new system is daunting. I rehearse the teaching of the game session. It's the only thing for TTRPGs I ever rehearse, but I want to know down pat how I'm going to quickly teach a new system and make it feel approachable and non-threatening. I'm also very clear that this will be a single session, with the possibility of turning into a campaign if we like it. All of this is structured to feel very safe. No initial learning required, no long term commitment, with a GM you already know you like.

But even as safe as that is, you still have to pitch the system. Why should the player be excited about playing this new game? Don't go all TTRPG nerd on them and explain all the details of the system, or use a bunch of jargon. Give them one or two things to be excited about with short, detailed anecdotes to back them up.

"We're going to be playing Blades in the Dark. It's a game where you play a gang of criminals in a haunted, steampunk dystopia. Every session you'll do heists, but instead of meticulously planning them, you start right in the action, and when you need to have planned for something, you can do a flashback scene to explain your preparation. One group I ran this for got busted by guards during an early heist, but used a flashback to create a scene where they had gotten a buddy of theirs a job as one of the guards, and he helped them out of the situation. And for some reason they fell in love with this bumbling goof I improvised to be the buddy, and then on a bunch of future jobs they kept using flashbacks to get him jobs wherever they were robbing. So this one idiot was just a de-facto crew member who worked a dozen different inside jobs despite being about as sharp as an eraser. And eventually they fucked up and got him killed, but they brought him back as a ghost, because you can do that in Blades in the Dark."

I find using a specific example of play really helps get peoples' imaginations going, which is what is going to help them say yes. And that example is tailored to what I know that player vibes with, what it is I think that makes them a good fit for this game.

The last detail about the invites is that I'm telling them, not asking them. It is not, "Hey, are you interested in playing this new game?" It's "I'm going to be running this new game. If you're interested in playing, please let me know what times work for you." If you're asking, you're going to get some "well but can it be 5e?" If you're telling, then they can choose to learn a new game in order to keep playing TTRPGs with a GM they know they like, or they can choose not to play at all.

Once you get enough yesses for a game, you run it, and then from there you're on your own. I think those are basically just friends you have at that point, and I'm not gonna tell you how to have friends.

Hopefully at least one person finds all that useful!

[muxshwriting]

history is written by the winners

Jake Seresin x reader

summary: sure, there's a lot of history between you two but that doesn't mean anything bad. it's only what you make it || word count: 1841 || masterlist

You’d grown up in a small rural town in Texas, surrounded by farms and cattle ranches. There was only ever one boy, the one for you. He was perfect in every way, caring and kind. It was perfect, but perfection never lasts. He joined the navy as a pilot and one day, he was just gone with a kiss to your cheek and a sweet smile.

You were lost on where your life was heading, wandering the great expanse of the future alone. Eventually, you find yourself in San Diego, enrolled in college and working at a small beachside bar, spending all your free time basking in the sunshine and soaking up the warmth. You’d finally found your rhythm when life decided to throw another player into the melody.

It had been a busy night, patrons filtering in and out, groups of naval officers inhabiting corners and ordering ring round after round. You were clearing a round of bottles near the pool table when a familiar Texan twang made you turn. And there he stood, smartly dressed in his naval uniform, laughing with his friends and telling them a story about some plane he flew.

"As I live and breathe, is that Jake Seresin?" Your voice seemed to cut through the buzz as he span to see you, face going slack in disbelief.

"Y/N?" He laughed in disbelief, rushing to hug you tightly, relishing in your touch. You almost didn't want him to let you go but he did, stepping away to look at you properly.

"Who’s this?" One of his fellow pilots asked.

"This is Y/N, we’re old-"

"We grew up together," you interrupt. "Back in Texas."

A low whistle echoed through the tension between the two of you as Jake simply laughed it off and held you closer to him. "What have you been up to? What are you doing here in San Diego?"

"I'm here for college." You answer slowly. "Life doesn't end after high school, doesn't end when people move away or leave you behind." You know it's cruel, throwing Jake's choices in his face but you'd never been able to release your hurt before. It finally made you feel free, but you couldn't stop the pangs in your heart as you saw Jake's face fall. "Tell you what," You offered a compromise. "Meet me after my shift and we can grab a couple drinks and catch up?"

Jake flashes his signature smile that makes you feel weak in the knees. "I'll be waiting for you."

True to his word, Jake is waiting at the entrance to the bar when you clock out, jacket in hand. Silently, you lead him over to your car, driving him back to your condo. When you turn the engine off, he lean over you to stop you from getting out, his face ending up inches away from yours.

"I'm sorry."

You can feel his breath on your cheek, warming your skin. Or maybe that's the blood rushing to the surface.

"I'm sorry."

He says it again, his lips brushing against the side of your face. He's intoxicating, an addiction you'll never be clean from.

"I'm sorry for leaving. Please say something."

It takes all you power not to give in and let yourself belong to Jake Seresin in that instance. "I forgive you, I always did." You whisper back. "I can't be mad at you Jakie, not when you're so happy here."

Jake pulls away and sucks all the air out of your lungs as he does. He says nothing and does nothing, which infuriates you. Part of you was expecting him to blow up at you, or do anything else.

"Do you want to come inside?"

"Share a couple drinks?"

"Like old times?"

Jake smirks. "Like old old times or…?"

Playfully, you push his slightly, opening your car door and getting out. "No Jake Seresin. We’re not there yet, get your mind out of the gutter."

A couple of beers later, your feet are tucked under you as you lean against Jake on the couch. Things were probably moving to quickly but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

"What if we tried again..." The suggestion was unexpected as he turned to face you.

"Tried again?" You ask him in disbelief.

"Yeah. I could take you out for a couple dates, see how things are."

"Us? Try dating again?" You wanted to make sure. Was he being serious?

"Yeah..." Jake trailed off, not sure if your reaction were positive or negative.

A small smile appeared on your lips as you shuffled closer. "Alright Jake Seresin, we can try this again but you better have some exquisite dates planned for us."

"Only the best for you ma'am."

You couldn't stop the smile growing on your face. "And you better keep up with the ma'am, yes Jakie?"

Jake swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yes ma'am."

The days dragged on and the pair of you were steady. It worked, like it always had. Perhaps fate had been waiting for the two of you to reunite. It seemed strange, that you could find your soulmate in the first boy you ever kissed, the boy you would always run back to. No one else was worth it, no one else made you feel that way, only him.

Jake finally convinced you to come to the bar with him and his friends on your day off, promising you wouldn’t be dragged in to work. It felt weird, walking through the door for pleasure and not to serve old folks and naval officers all night. What didn’t feel weird, was to walk through the doors hanging off Jake Seresin’s arm.

"You just had to break out the old cowboy hat, huh?"

He’s looking down at you, beneath the brim of his stupid cowboy hat and can’t hide his smile. "Only for you."

You smirk, reaching up to his head and plucking the hat from his. You waved it in the air for a moment before pushing it onto your own and silently challenging Jake with your stare. "Well?"

"You're treading dangerous waters Y/L/N."

"Fight me Seresin."

"Oh, I plan to."

[queenshelby]

The Price for Fame (Part One)

Pairing: Dark!Cillian Murphy x Innocent!Reader

Warning: Manipulation, Infidelity, Smut, Dub-Con, Age-Gap, Cillian is being a bully in this one. It's pure filth.

Just last month, you turned eighteen and moved to Los Angeles to pursue your acting career.

With the help of your friend, Florence Pugh, you scored a role in a new movie which was produced by several big names in the industry, including 48-year-old Oscar winner Cillian Murphy.

Bold enough to believe that life as an acclaimed actress could be yours, you traded the innocence of a rural and religious upbringing for this glitzy haven where fame and glamour wove a pernicious network but it did not take long for things to fall out of place when you screwed up big time on set.

The embarrassment settled in like a slow, tormenting burn as you messed up your lines during a critical emotional scene as much as ten times, causing the shoot to be cut off momentarily. The director, Damien Chazelle, tried to hold his composure but the frustration simmered below the surface. You knew already that he had it out for you, wanting another actress to take your space, and your failure to perform this scene was simply the last straw for him and possibly the end of your career. 

Thus, a quick huddle of the film's top players led to Cillian pulling you aside.

"Let's have a chat," he said coolly, those famous blue eyes impaling you with a steely glare. It was more of a command than an invitation.

"Sure, Cillian. I am so sorry about what happened on set," you stammered, knowing what this was going to be about. 

He was one of the producers of the movie and it was his investment at stake, so you cut right to the chase, "I know you're disappointed but I swear it won't happen again. Anything you want me to do, I just want another chance."

Cillian studied your face for a beat, his blue eyes so piercing you thought he could see right down into the depths of your very soul.

"Let's talk in my trailer, Y/N," he finally said, and began striding off and you followed close behind, unsure of what to expect once you entered his inner sanctum. 

"Listen, I'm getting some heat thanks to you," he began as he sat down and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his bent knees. "Damien wants  you out and I'm getting slammed on all sides for not firing you."

"Listen, I'm getting some heat thanks to you," he began as he sat down and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his bent knees. "Damien wants  you out and I'm getting slammed on all sides for not firing you."

Your heart dropped into your stomach, the implications clear as day. You had to somehow atone for the massive screw-up on set and convince Cillian that you were still a valuable part of this project.

"Please, just tell me what to do and I'll do it," you said, looking him straight in the eye. "I can't afford to lose this opportunity. I'll do whatever it takes."

The words hung heavy in the air and Cillian seemed to consider them before finally responding.

"Whatever it takes, huh?" Cillian repeated, as if mulling over your words. His gaze never left yours, and the intensity of it made you squirm in your seat. "Well, you are a young and attractive woman, Y/N and we could, potentially, come to some kind of arrangement that would keep you employed on this film."

The implications of his words sent a shock through your system. Was he suggesting what you thought he was suggesting?

"What... what kind of arrangement?" you stammered, hating how weak you sounded but unable to control it.

Cillian leaned back in his seat now, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, I think you know."

You shook your head in confusion. You didn't though, not really.

But the way Cillian was looking at you, like you were some sort of puzzle to be figured out, made you feel exposed and vulnerable.

"You need to be more specific," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Cillian leaned forward again; his gaze unwavering. "Alright then. Let me be clear. I want to have you in my bed, every night, sometimes even during the day, until we are done filming," Cillian said, his gaze intense.

"What?" you exclaimed, your voice barely above a whisper. "You want me to, uhm, like have sex with you?" you asked and Cillian nodded almost bluntly.

Your mind raced as you tried to process his words. Was this some kind of joke? It had to be, right? Except Cillian's expression was completely serious.

"I don't understand," you said finally, your voice shaking. "Why would you want that? You are married and I am much younger than you," you protested, still reeling from his outlandish request.

Cillian sighed and rubbed his temples before looking back at you. "I am married but my wife is not here, and I do have needs, so this seems like an easy solution for me. Plus, I won't deny that I find you attractive," he told you and you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. This was not what you had expected when you agreed to come to his trailer. Your mind raced as you tried to come up with a response that wouldn't ruin your career completely.

"I am flattered but I have a boyfriend and we were waiting until marriage, so I have never been intimate with anyone," you told Cillian, hoping that would put an end to this conversation. But instead of appearing taken aback, Cillian seemed almost pleased by this revelation.

"Really?" he said, with a cunning smile before carrying on. "Well, I can be gentle and, as I see it, no one needs to know about this arrangement. Not your boyfriend, not my wife, and especially not anyone on set," Cillian leaned in, whispering conspiratorially.  His piercing blue eyes bore into you, softening just slightly.

"I don't know. I don't think I can do this," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart was still racing, and your mind was swirling with indecision. On one hand, you couldn't afford to lose this opportunity, and on the other, you couldn't imagine betraying your boyfriend like this.

Cillian leaned back in his seat, studying you for a moment before speaking. "Look, Y/N, I understand your hesitation, but this is purely a business arrangement," Cillian said, his voice low and soothing as he tried to persuade you.

A silence fell between the two of you as you contemplated his words. The dilemma wrestling within you was palpable, the weight of the decision threatening to crush you.

His voice broke through the silence once more, "Think about it, Y/N. You need this role, and I need... well, I need something else."

Cillian's words lingered in the air, making you uncomfortable, and the thought of betraying your boyfriend's trust made your stomach churn.

"Okay, but you have to wear a condom and no kissing," you finally agreed, trying to put in some boundaries.

Cillian's face lit up with excitement as if he had just won a jackpot, but he quickly hid it with a mask of composure. "Of course, Y/N. Whatever makes you comfortable."

You felt violated by the sudden power shift, but you couldn't deny that Cillian was offering you a lifeline, an opportunity to save yourself from drowning in the cutthroat industry of Hollywood. You had come too far to throw it all away for principles that seemed so trivial now.

"Tonight, 8 o'clock at my house, wear something nice," Cillian instructed, before dismissing you with a wave.

The audacity of it all left you breathless. In no universe did you imagine that your innocence would be the currency for maintaining employment in this industry. Yet, here you were, walking away from his trailer, carrying the burden of a secret agreement that clashed heavily with your very soul.

***

Eight o'clock came around soon enough, and after hours of overthinking, you stood by Cillian's front door, wearing an elegant red dress and high heels. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you hesitated for a moment, hesitant to knock.

Cillian answered the door with a seductive smirk on his face. "Right on time," he drawled. His gaze raked over you, leaving a trail of discomfort in its wake. You murmured a soft greeting and stepped inside.

The terrace he was staying it for the duration of filming was nice, tastefully decorated and obviously very expensive.

Cillian led you to the living room where he handed you a glass of wine and whilst you did not usually drink alcohol, you decided tonight was different. You needed to calm your nerves and calm down your inhibitions. 

As you sipped on the red liquid, he gave you a tour of his house and, without losing too much time, he led you to his bedroom.

"Let's get this over with," you gasped quietly, trying to sound confident but your trembling voice betrayed your true emotions.

"Eager are we?" Cillian chuckled as you put down your half-finished wine and sat down on the edge of the mattress, noticing a packet of condoms and a bottle of lubricant on the nightstand.

"No, like I said, I just want to get this over with," you reiterated, biting your lower lip nervously. "I don't want this, but you do, and I want to keep my job, so let's just make this quick," you added, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Alright then," Cillian chuckled, that smug grin still on his face as he moved closer to you. Without losing any time, he pulled his t-shirt over his head before slowly undoing his belt. 

"Why don't you get down on to your knees and get me hard , hmm?" Cillian suggested, the lascivious look in his eyes causing you to shudder.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling repulsed at the idea of going down on him but before you could protest, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look up at him. "Don't pretend you don't want this," he growled, his hot breath on your face making you cringe.

"Okay," you nodded reluctantly, your voice barely above a whisper.

You sunk down to your knees on the plush carpet, feeling completely degraded and humiliated. You could feel the bile rising in your throat as you looked up at him, his crotch directly in front of your face.

Cillian's face was smug as he unzipped his jeans, tugging them down along with his boxers. His cock sprang free, already semi-hard and pointing directly at your face.

"Go on then," he commanded gruffly, unaware that you had never done this before either. 

But you knew you couldn't refuse him. Not if you wanted to keep your job and avoid any negative consequences.

So with shaking hands, you reached up and wrapped your fingers around his thick shaft.

Cillian let out a low moan as you began to stroke him, your grip tight as you moved your hand up and down his length.  Your heart was pounding in your chest, and every movement made your stomach churn.

But you knew this was the price of maintaining your career, so you forced yourself to continue. 

Pre-cum glistened on the tip of his cock, an indication of his growing arousal and, even though you did not know what it was, you pulled away slightly.

"Now be a good girl for me and open your mouth ," Cillian demanded.

You hesitated again, feeling even more repulsed by the request. But you knew there was no room for hesitation or resistance, not if you wanted to keep your job and avoid any negative consequences. So, with trembling lips, you parted your mouth as wide as you could, trying to suppress the sick feeling rising up in your stomach.

"Now stick out your tongue," he ordered.

You did as you were told, sticking out your tongue and closing your eyes which is when Cillian collected some of his pre-cum with his index finger and smeared it on to your tongue.

You opened your eyes , still trembling as you stared up at him, hating every moment of this degradation. Cillian just smiled down at you before nodding for you to continue.

You reluctantly wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, wincing as the taste of salt and bitter muskiness filled your mouth. 

Cillian then grabbed a fistful of your hair, using it to guide his cock deep into your mouth. He pushed it in farther than you expected, causing you to gag.

"You're going to have to relax and take it all in," he said, his tone cruel and condescending. "Otherwise we're never going to get anywhere."

You swallowed hard, fighting the urge to vomit as you felt his cock hit the back of your throat.

"Sshh , deep breaths," Cillian cooed softly, tugging on your hair as he pulled his hips back and thrust forward again.

You kept your breathing steady and shallow, trying to prevent yourself from gagging on his length. Tears streamed down your cheeks as Cillian's rhythm grew quicker. He groaned with pleasure, his grip on your hair tightening.

Suddenly he pulled out of you, and the sudden emptiness caused relief to flood through you.

"I want you on all fours now, baby," Cillian growled, his voice husky with lust. "That way, I can see how your virgin hole stretches around my cock when I stick it in there."

You swallowed hard, feeling scared but still you complied. You reluctantly positioned yourself on all fours, your heart pounding in your chest as Cillian reached for the condom packet and lubrication.

Cillian tore open the condom packet with his teeth, rolling it down his hard shaft before squeezing out a generous amount of lubrication onto his fingers. He traced them teasingly over your dry folds, causing you to flinch at the unfamiliar touch.

"Please, just get it over with," you whimpered, your voice trembling as you braced yourself for the excruciating pain of losing your virginity.

Cillian chuckled at your eagerness, but you could hear the sarcasm behind it. "So eager to give up that sweet little cherry of yours, huh?" he asked as he positioned himself behind you, the head of his cock brushed up against your entrance.

"This might hurt a little, but I want you to relax and let me in," he said as he began to push himself inside of you.

You couldn't help but let out a loud gasp as the burning sensation of pain spread throughout your entire body. You couldn't believe that you were actually doing this, allowing yourself to be used like this, for nothing but your career.

"Just breathe," Cillian whispered in your ear as he continued to push deeper inside of you.

You felt him bottom out inside of you, and the feeling of fullness was almost too much to bear.

But before you could say anything, he began to thrust in and out of your tight hole, the friction causing a burning sensation to radiate throughout your body.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Cillian groaned, his hips snapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. You couldn't help but let out a loud gasp every time he entered you, feeling every inch of him as he stretched you open.

Sweat dripped down Cillian's forehead, his breath coming out in harsh pants as he continued to pound into you.

"And you are going to have that cock of mine inside you every day now," Cillian grunted, his voice hoarse as he continued to pump in and out of you.  His words made you feel dirty and cheap, but there was nothing you could do to stop him. You were trapped in this situation, trapped in this twisted arrangement between a successful actor and a desperate young actress trying to make it in Hollywood.

Cillian reached between your legs, his fingers finding your clit as he began to circle and rub, causing you to moan involuntarily. The mix of pain and pleasure was overwhelming, making it hard for you to catch your breath.

You came, fast, and then you were in a state of shock, unable to fully comprehend what was happening to you. The man behind you, Cillian, continued to thrust into you with no mercy, his balls slapping against your clit with each pump. His fingers were still manipulating your delicate button, and the combined sensations were building up deep within your core.

Cillian grunted, his pace increasing. You could feel his cock swell inside of you as he approached his own climax.

He then groaned loudly, his fingers digging into your hips as he slammed into you with a final thrust. You could feel him pulsating inside of you, the condom filling with his hot seed.

Soon after that, Cillian withdrew from you, and your body ached with the emptiness. He tossed the used condom to the side before collapsing onto the bed next to you.

"You impressed me tonight," Cillian said breathlessly as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

His body was slick with sweat, and his cock was still semi-hard against your thigh.

"I had to," you muttered, pulling away from his embrace. You couldn't bear the thought of being close to him after what just transpired between you.

Cillian chuckled softly, his breath hot against your neck. "I know, and I'm grateful," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss on the curve of your shoulder.

"I want you to go on the pill," he said, his voice firm. "I can't be bothered with condoms all the time, and I want to feel you bare. Can you do that for me?"

His request caught you off guard, but you didn't protest. You were already in too deep, and a part of you wanted to give him what he wanted.

"Okay," you murmured softly.

Cillian smiled at your response, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your bare thigh.

"Good girl," he whispered approvingly, before pulling you close for another bruising kiss before leaving you to clean yourself up and head back home.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[sidedished]

stardew valley mods

hi! 👋🏻 listing down all the mods for my current sdv save, will do my best to update this list as i play!

✧ stardew valley 1.6 (with sve) ✧ mac mini (m1) ✧ updated 04.10.24

always double check the requirements before downloading mods! feel free to ask me questions, i'll do my best to help! 🫶🏻

📝 prerequisites

✧ smapi ✧ content patcher ✧ json assets ✧ spacecore ✧ alternative textures ✧ expanded preconditions utility ✧ farm type manager (for sve) ✧ mail framework mod (for life cycle)

🎮 gameplay

✧ dying grandpa intro retexture ✧ event expansion ✧ life cycle ✧ romantic love letters ✧ stardew valley expanded + grandpa's farm

👩🏻‍🌾 farmer & characters/npc a lot of my JA clothes don't work since the 1.6 update, so i may temporarily move to using FS until i get JA clothing to work in game. keeping these on the list regardless!

✧ alternate dusty portraits ✧ coii's girl sets ✧ cozy scarves (fs) ✧ customizable baby and children ✧ fashion sense ✧ gh's peach body type ✧ rural outfitters (fs) ✧ seasonal improved leo ✧ the coquette collection (fs) ✧ yomi's retro colored dress (fs) ✧ baechu's seasonal outfits + slightly cuter aesthetic seasonal outfits (i'm using a combination of baechu's and poltergeister's portraits and sprites so unfortunately i can't share an accurate link for this) ✧ baechu's seasonal outfits (sve) + slightly cuter aesthetic seasonal outfits for sve (same for this one!) ✧ beom mung's shirts & pants (beom mung has since changed their id, so i can't share an accurate link for this) ✧ delloti's daily pants set ✧ delloti's daily shirt set (ver. 2) ✧ delloti's hats set ✧ delloti's look ✧ the teddy edit

🐥 animals & livestock

✧ elle's cuter dogs ✧ elle's new barn animals ✧ elle's new coop animals ✧ elle's new horses ✧ elle's town animals

🏠 house interior/furniture

✧ aimon's fancy farmhouse ✧ aimon's tidy cozy ginger island farmhouse ✧ cozy farmhouse kitchen ✧ dustbeauty's industrial furniture (at) ✧ elle's kitchen replacement ✧ futan bear (at) ✧ greenhouse set (at) ✧ guxelbit's furniture (at) ✧ mi's and magimatica country furniture ✧ nano's retro style furniture (at) ✧ redesigned shed layout ✧ rustic country walls & floors ✧ seasonal open windows (at) ✧ suitcase record player ✧ tile kitchen & dining set ✧ too many swatches (lite) ✧ warm cozy fireplaces ✧ west elm furniture by atlas (at)

🌱 farming/craftable retextures

✧ chest deco (at) ✧ dshi food retexture ✧ fancy artifacts retexture ✧ fancy artisan goods retexture ✧ fancy crops & foraging retexture ✧ fancy fish & tackles retexture ✧ fancy trash & resources retexture ✧ firefly torch ✧ forest wood craftables (at) ✧ gwen's lamps ✧ nano's garden style craftables (at) ✧ nyangcarecrow ✧ terracotta garden pots ✧ wallet items retexture ✧ warp totems to magic book tomes

🧸 aesthetic/map

✧ daisyniko's earthy recolour ✧ daisyniko's recolor fix for sve ✧ dustbeauty's country town interior ✧ elle's seasonal buildings ✧ elle's town buildings ✧ ellie's seasonal paths & flooring ✧ interiors of pelican town ✧ molamole's seasonal mailbox (at) ✧ more grass ✧ seasonal special order board retexture ✧ simple foliage ✧ wildflower grass field

🎨 ui

✧ cozy accent interface ✧ custom menu background ✧ farmer 2.0 ESWF looks ✧ farmer portraits ✧ generic mod config menu ✧ script font

🌻 quality of life

✧ cjb cheats menu ✧ cjb item spawner ✧ cjb show item sell price ✧ lookup anything ✧ noclip mode ✧ npc map locations ✧ ui info suite

[w3irdoartist]

Remember I did that one YV boys but they're Brazilian thing a while ago and never finished it?

.... Uh well... I'm done now!!!

Here's the original idea by @mintygreencake

Enjoy! ;b

Jack is Gaúcho and Faust is from São Paulo (city).

Alphonse is from Curitiba, but grew up in Rio de Janeiro. He's one of those touchy Brazilians that become friends with your entire family in less than a second. Wears tacky shirts.

Lucien is an amazing cook from Salvador. He owns a famous local diner. Has the best passed down family recipes. Rides a Biz way too cutesy for his large size though.

Auron is originally from Belo Horizonte and Charlie is Paranaense. But both live in São Paulo for "business" reasons. Auron moved to São Paulo at a young age when his mother married Faust's father. Charlie takes up skating as a sport, and is surprisingly a great soccer player.

Seth is either from Minas Gerais or Nordeste. They're seen as more rural dry areas in Brazil (I drew both versions). Oh and, the ladies go crazy over him because he plays the acoustic.

Finn is from Mato Grosso do Sul, but moved to Amazonas for his botanical research. Dances well.

Big shoutout to @jollyinha and @magiclain for helping me with some of those headcanons. :)

Here's a few more related sketches. Learn some Portuguese!

I inspired both Lucien and Finn on indigenous Brazilian folklore for those sketches btw.

And yes I got a little too exited about this.

[irisintheafterglow]

End Game #4 (volleyball captain!gojo x you)

summary: your ex shows up as a captain at a training camp and your captain puts him in his place.

word count: 1.8k

cw/tags: language, jjk volleyball au, reader's ex sucks (allusions to cheating and crossing boundaries, but nothing descriptive)

note: i'm a sucker for protective satoru, that's it.

likes/reblogs/feedback are always appreciated <3

The last time you could recall Satoru taking his duty as captain seriously was during training camp several months earlier, and even then, his motivation was fueled by spite. 

“Fuck.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, it's fine. Can we just go around this way instead?” You pinch the sleeve of his track jacket, tugging him back the way you’d just entered. He follows, obediently but puzzled, sneaking a glance over his shoulder to see who you were avoiding. Your vision zeroes in on the doors, ears ringing in panic. Just a few more yards, you think. Just a bit further.

“It’s good to see you, sweetheart,” a sickening voice calls from the other side of the hallway, and your body tenses on its own, heart dropping into your stomach. Your jaw aches from how hard you’re clenching your mouth shut, and your feet are carrying you faster away from the asshole behind you. You don’t dare look at Satoru. “Aw, ignoring me? I see you haven’t changed.” Hold out. Ignore his remarks; they’re just words. Just get Satoru out of here–  

“Huh.” He makes an unamused, slightly disgusted noise. You can clearly imagine the scowl boring into the back of your head. “That's your new boy toy?” 

Immediately your captain digs his heels into the linoleum hallway, effectively screeching you both to a halt. You look back at him, eyes pleading with him to keep moving in the reflection of his round-rimmed sunglasses. But he’s stubborn, and cracks his neck from side to side like he’s ready for a fight. He turns, and his eyes narrow dangerously as he takes in the guy approaching him. You watch his body subtly drift in front of you, so easily and protectively that it makes your heart falter. 

“Satoru, wait–”

“It’s okay. Let me handle it,” he murmurs, flicking his eyes across the player standing right in front of him, tall enough for their eyes to meet. His voice drips fake chivalry and lethal venom. “From the countryside, hmm? You must be pretty good since there’s nothing else to do out there.” 

“How ‘bout you ask your little manager what we’d do out there?” Red-hot anger flares in your chest, but the cool calm of Satoru’s voice cuts you off. 

“I’m not gonna ask them anything regarding you.” His voice is even, but his fists open and close, a habit that only showed itself when he was on the brink of snapping. “Since they already deemed you unworthy of their time, you’re definitely not worth any more of mine. Toodles!” You cough, choking on your own oxygen at his childish goodbye.

“You fucking–”

Razor-sharp blue eyes stun him into silence. “See you on the court.” 

Satoru’s long, muscled arm snakes around your shoulders, pulling you into his side and steering you away from the prick in the hallway. He doesn’t let you go until you’re safely deposited by Yaga’s side, even as you take the long way around the school to the gym. You mumble out a thank you before he walks away to join the rest of the team warming up, shooting a lopsided grin over his shoulder. “Tell me about him later, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You smile softly, chuckling as he dances around the trembling first-years in an attempt to ease their nerves. As much of an idiot Satoru was, he was a caring upperclassman when he wanted to be. The tender moment doesn’t last long, though, as the team you’re matched against first takes their positions on the other side of the court; there in the middle, wearing a repulsive leer and rolling a broad shoulder, is your ex. 

He was a summer fling from when you stayed with relatives for a month in a rural prefecture outside of Tokyo. His family was a friend of a friend of a friend, and you’d met at a neighborhood reunion when no one else your age was present. You’d bonded initially over volleyball, and you found yourself naively fascinated by his egotistical boasting. He asked you out shortly after, but rushed your relationship even when you were still new to having a partner. Nothing intimate occurred beside kissing, but you’d abruptly cut things off when he started wanting more physically than what you were comfortable with, not to mention the handful of other girls he kept on speed-dial when you weren’t available. Now he was here, captain of his school’s volleyball team, about to face off against the captain of your school’s volleyball team. It seemed that Fate had a cruel sense of humor. 

Yaga summons the team to huddle before the match starts, spouting his usual instructions to focus on offensive power and allow defense to flow organically. The players nod in assent, but you catch Satoru’s eye one too many times to be called merely an accident. 

“We haven’t played them before, but that doesn’t mean they should be underestimated. Be smart. Don’t die.” Yaga finishes his spiel, and the boys scoff at the usual melodrama of the ending, preparing their hands to break like clockwork. To them, it was just another practice match; you give them a pained smile when they ask you what lunch will be. You wring your hands unconsciously, sweating slightly from the unrelenting stare of your ex on the back of your neck. 

Carefree laughter dies back as Satoru’s stern voice cuts through the comfortable atmosphere of the team. “Oi, oi. Quiet, all of you.”  His expression is serious and unreadable, eyes dark with determination. “I’m going all out, this game.” You’re taken aback, and you catch Suguru blinking, dumbfounded. Even Yaga looked surprised. His face asked what you were all thinking: Why now? “I’m not saying you should go all out; that’s not what I mean.” His large hands quiet the team’s muttering. “This isn’t a command.” His gaze settles on you and your heart stops.

“It’s a warning.” 

The match starts, and it ends just as quickly. 

Satoru, Captain Satoru, leads your team to rack up fifteen points like he’d done it in his sleep. 

Most of the points were service aces from his own hands, to the point where Suguru and Nanami started grumbling that the match was just target practice. Even though he said he would go all out, you could tell he wasn’t wasting any extra energy; you bit your lip in an attempt to muffle laughter when you saw him yawn. The match wasn’t anything special, but you witnessed him act as captain in his own way, instructing players to do things that he knew would piss off the other team. Inumaki barely had to touch the floor as his upperclassmen formed an impenetrable wall over the net, much to the dismay of the other team’s hitters. He told Megumi to trial-run his setter dumps, Yuuji to try his jump serve at full power, and even pulled off a few good fakeouts with Panda that had you fistbumping Yaga. When the match concludes, you sneak a smug glance at the captain of the other team and are delighted to see his face bright red, practically steaming from the ears. He huffs out a muddled threat of a rematch before stomping away with his team to run the punishment lap around the school. 

You gravitate to Satoru, handing him a water bottle and a towel as he rests his head against the wall of the gym, cross-legged on the floor. You slide down next to him, and the corner of his mouth quirks up arrogantly. 

“You see me block that idiot’s cross shot?” 

“I did.” You look at him appreciatively, too happy to hide behind spunk or cynicism. “It was nice, seeing someone so effortlessly counter what he brags as his best attack.” 

“‘Best attack,’ my ass. He loves to act like he’s ambidextrous, but he’s–”

“More comfortable on his left than his right. I’m surprised you noticed.”

“He’s also shit at receiving and bullies that kid setter to give him the ball every other play. Their defense wouldn’t know a hole if they were the ones that drilled it.” 

“You really analyzed the hell out of them, Satoru.”

“Of course I did. Needed to know how to properly kick them to the curb.” You chuckle at the unfiltered malice in his voice and he beams back at you, bright as full moonlight. Your stomach turned, and you let yourself acknowledge how beautiful he looked, blue eyes glimmering and hair falling messily across his forehead. 

“Why can’t you be like this for every game?”

“Because I’m not defending your honor in every game,” he says nonchalantly, tilting the bottle toward you for emphasis. His tone is casual, but you both knew that he was taking a practice match more seriously than usual, more than it deserved. 

You can’t help feeling amused at him considering your ex a petty villain, like a rival knight from a neighboring kingdom. “Is that what that was, then?”

“Oh, loudly telling Suguru the match was a waste of time wasn’t obvious enough?” 

“Mmm, no. I think you should do it again,” you tease, bumping your shoulder gently against his. He mirrors your smile, alleviating any lingering worries pestering your mind. His voice softens, eyebrows dipping as he carefully chooses his words. 

“Were you with him for that month when you were in the countryside?” 

“Yeah.” 

“When you abandoned me?” He jokingly glares at you, and you roll your eyes. He was impossible. 

“Satoru.” 

“Sorry. Force of habit.” It’s silent for a moment, and then Satoru’s voice drops to a barely audible octave, low and cautious. “He didn’t do anything, did he?”  

Understanding washes over your face and you shake your head adamantly. “No, no. I cut him off before he could try anything stupid.” 

“Good. I knew you wouldn’t let him, but I wanted to be sure.” His eyes are still dark with something like suppressed wrath, mouth drawn into a tight line. 

“I don’t like that look on your face.”

The dangerous expression is gone in a blink, replaced by faux-indignancy. “This is just my face! Are you saying I’m ugly? I can’t believe you just called me ugly.” 

“No, I’m saying you look homicidal.” 

He snorts. “You’re not wrong.”

“Satoru!”

“Kidding! Partially.” Your face falls when he walks back into the gym, scowling and breathless from the punishment lap. Satoru catches you looking, and clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “You don’t need to worry about him anymore.” 

“You think I’m worried?” 

“I know you are, even if you won’t admit it. I’m just saying. I won’t let him bother you. I'm the strongest, after all.” You’re speechless at the earnestness of his statement, and settle for mumbling another thank you, avoiding his eyes. 

For the remaining days of the training camp, Satoru is attached to you at the hip, guarding you from the hungry stares and glares of other players. Though the rest of the team notices, he doesn’t explain his declaration of war against your ex’s team. In return, you feed him the meager information you had about his strategies, murmuring what ankle he seemed to be weaker on so Satoru could exploit it and enrage him further. The best part was that he did all of this subtly, never drawing extra attention to you or giving the impression that this was all to make you laugh. You find that he likes to look at you over his shoulder when he does something to piss your ex off, and his grin gets wider when you laugh. 

You find that you like it when he looks over his shoulder at you, too.

[cemeteryspider]

Ballet on the Bayou Pt. 3

Alastor x Ballerina! Reader

Summary: After the accident on stage Alastor invites her to stay at his home.

Trigger Warnings: Injury, emotional distress, mention of Alastor's (ahem) activities

Word Count: 1055

Previous | Next

Ballet on the Bayou Masterlist

Alastor was made to stay in the waiting room as they set your ankle to the best of their ability and put it in plaster of Paris so it would heal. Even then, they said it would be a long way to being able to walk again. Feebly he brought up the subject of dance, but their silence spoke volumes.

He waited until your ankle had been set into place before he went home to check on his mother, who by this time would be worrying about him.

While he was there he grabbed one of his mother's old skirts and a sweater from their house. Alastor explained the situation to his mother who, as the loving woman she was, told him to offer you a place at their home. She also told him she would have dinner ready for when he returned.

When he got back to the hospital, you were sitting up in the hospital bed happily talking to staff. It seemed like a far departure from how you were mere hours ago.

A nurse pulled him over to the side and calmly explained that you were on pain medicine. He knew that you would be out of it for at least a few more hours.

A simple nod was all he could manage to the nurses, and he shifted his focus to you. He made his way over to your bed.

"Why aren't you just the cat's meow" A slight purr came from her lips with a big smile.

He let himself chuckle, even at the speakeasy a couple drinks in you, you weren't this loose. A warmth crept up his neck and to his cheeks and he hoped that you were too out of it to notice.

"I brought you some clothes, darling, I'm taking you to my house and we can call your folks there"

"Usually a man will take me out to dinner before takin' me home"

His smile was blinding as he left the clothes on your bed, discreetly exiting to give you some privacy. He informed the nurses and helped you sign the release paperwork.

~~~

After safely bringing you home, Alastor observed her peaceful slumber before tending to his mother and eating dinner with her.

She was rushing around the guest bedroom trying to make everything perfect. He knew exactly why. Never once had he shown interest in another human being besides his mother. He made no friends at school, and rarely went out of the house except to the radio station.

It came as a shock to him too when he took such interest up in you. Maybe part of it was just how happy she made him. How quickly he started to change his mind about humanity.

"Mother, we don't know if she wants to stay here"

"Just in case darling-boy"

They continued to sit quietly in the dining room and eat while you slept soundlessly on the couch.

~~~

You woke up to a searing pain in your leg and a vinyl on the record player beside you. In a seat opposite yours sat Alastor.

"Oh good, you're awake" He smiled as you wiped the sand out of your eyes and looked around.

Alastor lived in a modern house with velvety furniture. A massive stone fireplace adorned one wall, a majestic deer head presiding over the room. The crackling flames cast a warm glow, illuminating the velvety furniture that exuded an air of luxury.

"Wow, this place, it's beautiful" You had never seen such a lovely home. This was practically a palace compared to your meager living in a rural small town.

"Ah, thank you Dearie, now would you be staying here? Is there someone whom I could call? Or would you rather a hotel perhaps?" The questions swirled in your head.

"No, nobody to call, I left to pursue my dreams and when I went back to visit they wanted nothing to do with me. I haven't any money..."

"No need to worry about any of that, I will get you a room if you wish, although our guest room is pretty comfortable. Plus you get my mother's cooking"

"You'd let me stay here?" You tried not to get your hopes up, whenever you were with the troupe they always made you sleep on the floor. Or they would kick you out of the room.

"Of course! How could I kick someone as lovely as you out?"

You took the aspirin he guided into your hand and swallowed, hopeful that some of the pain would subside. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You spotted a pair of wooden crutches leaning against the wall, you would never be able to dance if you didn't start walking.

You made a move to stand up. Alastor just tutted and brought the crutches over to you and carefully pulled you up until your forearms rested against the arm rests.

~~~

After giving you a tour and formally introducing you to his mother, who gushed over your beauty and grace on the stage. Profusely apologized for grievous injury, and told you to stay as long as you liked.

Over the months of healing you had ahead of you, you helped her cook in the kitchen, clean around the house, go out for groceries with her, and help her wash and hang up the clothes. It was the kind of domestic life you didn't see in your future, but this somehow felt right.

~~~

Under the cover of night, Alastor silently left the house, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He knew exactly which train to be on to be where your troupe would be now. He also knew exactly how much time he had before he needed to be on the train back in time for breakfast and for his shift at the radio station.

He had everything he could need in the duffle bag at his feet. To any other passenger he was just a guy on a train, maybe going home for a short stay. In reality, he was paying Louise a visit. He couldn't wait to hear her beautiful screams as he wiped the grin off of her conniving face.

The tip of his wingtip shoes played with the bag near his feet, and he tested the weight of the hunting rifle and knifes inside.

[lucy90712]

First kiss- Carlos Alcaraz

"Do you use tongue on a first kiss?" Asks the interviewer 

Most people would fully expect Carlos to say no including me but no his inability to lie kicked in again. He simply nodded his head and smiled while his cheeks went a bit pink but I think mine were worse I imagine I looked like a tomato. 

Carlos brought me to this interview as I had just made it out to Australia after missing the first few matches due to work and he wanted to spend time with me. I was expecting a normal interview with a few basic questions as I've been with him to plenty of interviews like that but this one was a little different from the start as it felt more like a little game show or quiz show thing. It was nice to have something a little different and I was enjoying it until that question and answer came up. All of the crew shot me a glance as when we arrived Carlos introduced me as his girlfriend now I'm really wishing he didn't. I know exactly what they were all thinking they were wondering if Carlos did that when we had our first kiss and that's what everyone is going to wonder when this interview comes out. 

The story of our first date and first kiss was bound to come out one day but I was hoping that would be further down the road and that people would think it's a cute story but now this interview will be in the back of everyone's mind. It is a cute story though. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Most people never get to experience going on a first date with someone even remotely famous let alone a famous tennis player who is very much well known across the country and the world. Somehow I've found myself in that exact situation who knew looking like an idiot on a tennis court could end with a date with a professional player who somehow found your awful attempt at tennis endearing. 

I feel like I should be nervous but for some reason I'm not. I just don't have any expectations I never thought I'd be in this situation so if  things don't go well then my life hasn't really changed I've just been on another bad first date. It's only if things go well that things will change which is definitely a problem for future me which is why I'm not really that bothered right now. As much as I'm not nervous I do want to make a good impression as Carlos was really nice and he's incredibly attractive. In my mind to make a good impression and not just seem like any random girl I had to make sure I dressed up and made myself look nice. I did some stalking before today so I know that Carlos could probably have any girl he wanted definitely someone prettier than me so I want to look my best and hope my personality makes up for the rest. 

Carlos said he would pick me up from my apartment at 8 and exactly as the clock turned 8 I got a text and the buzzer to my apartment went off. I made my way downstairs at lightning speed not wanting to keep him waiting too long which was exhausting but as soon as I saw Carlos' face and his bright smile running down 5 flights of stairs felt worth it. He greeted me with a hug and we made our way out to his car where he opened the passenger side door for me before getting in himself. When we planned this date he simply asked me my favourite type of food and if I have any allergies and that was it so I assume we are going to a restaurant but other than that I don't have a clue what we are doing. He drove us out of the busy city centre and into a smaller more rural town which I had never been to before. We drove for a few more minutes before he pulled into a parking space outside this small, quaint looking restaurant. It wasn't somewhere that I'd have ever found myself but I'm excited to try it out. 

Being a wonderful gentleman Carlos opened my door for me and offered his hand to help me get out which I didn't need but I wasn't going to miss out on the chance to hold his hand. He kept hold of my hand as we walked into the restaurant and were shown to our table, he only let go to pull out my chair for me and take my jacket. He was being so lovely which I'm not going to say I didn't expect as I'm sure his parents raised him right but you never know how someone with such a big following is going to act I mean I've had a run in with a footballer who was the rudest person I've ever met. Carlos is different though he's been nothing but kind since we met and clearly he hasn't let his success get to his head. 

We both ordered our food and got to talking properly for the first time since our brief interaction when we met. I really thought we'd have nothing in common as our lives are nothing alike but we actually had so many common interests and our lives growing up weren't as dissimilar as I thought they would be. We ate our food which was so delicious but we both just wanted to keep talking. I've never wanted a first date to keep going as much as I do with this one I think I've finally found my person and when I least expect to as well. 

After dinner Carlos drove me home and this time he came up to my apartment with me as he wanted to make sure I got in safely. While he was there I gave him a quick tour of my apartment before the time came that we had to say goodbye to each other. As we were saying goodbye there so much built up tension we were both looking into each others eyes and then at one another's lips. Carlos took the initiative and leant in finally attaching our lips, the kiss was amazing feeling his lips against mine everything felt right in the world. He took me by surprise when he added his tongue to the kiss I wasn't complaining but I didn't expect him to be so forward on the first date or with our first kiss. When he pulled away he pecked my lips before saying goodbye with a smirk on his face and me with the biggest smile on mine. 

~~~~~~~~~~

I was so distracted reliving my first date with Carlos that I had zoned out of the rest of the interview. I only came back into reality when I felt a kiss be pressed to my cheek by none other than the guy I was thinking about who has made the best boyfriend. He smiled at me and helped me up from the chair I was sat on before giving me a proper kiss which also garnered a look from everyone else in the room which made me blush.

“Are you ok?” Carlos asked 

“I’m fine just next time you do an interview maybe don’t tell everyone that you use tongue on the first kiss or at least not when I’m in the room it attracts attention” I said 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to embarrass you” he apologised sincerely 

“Its ok I’ll forget about it in a few hours but don’t you dare go telling anyone about the first time we had sex or I will kill you” I smile walking off to the car ready to go back to the hotel

[useless-catalanfacts]

Hello I love your content! I'm hoping you can help me understand something about Catalan in Mallorca vs Barcelona.

One of my favorite football players is Mariona Caldentey, she has been playing for FC Barcelona for 10 years but originally is from Mallorca. There is a whole thread of criticism on X for her changing her accent (I think?) when she speaks in FCB videos and to Barcelona press. Why are folks so offended by this? Would the journalists be able to understand her if she used her native accent?

Here is the thread: https://x.com/bibiloni/status/1799091989767704880

Hello! Thank you ☺️

Her accent is 100% understandable to people from Barcelona, the reason for changing is not that she won't be understood. Some people from Mallorca can have a very strong accent that's difficult for the rest of us to understand when not used to it (also some people from outside the islands might not even try 🙄*), but that's not her case. She has a noticeable Mallorcan accent but it's not difficult to understand.

When she spoke in the FCB video, she was using a very specific accent that's not a standard Barcelona accent either (or at least not the original accent you would have heard in Barcelona 80 years ago), she was using the accent of people who usually speak Spanish and don't know how to make all the right sounds of the Catalan language (this is what "xava" means, that the guy who made the tweet mentions). So the man who made the tweet is saying she changed her accent because the "cool" accent is the "xava" one, when her initial (Mallorcan) accent is already correct and she shouldn't have needed to change.

So there's a few things to consider here.

Speaking an accent from a different part of the country where other people have a different accent, and even more so when this place has a different standard (each part of the Catalan Countries has its own standard). It's not uncommon for speakers of non-standard or non-prestige accents to change their accent to what they perceive as the standard or well-regarded accent where they move to (think for example, David Tennant's own Scottish accent vs how he speaks in British TV). This has to do with interiorized prejudice, and the OP of that tweet is remarking that her own initial accent was perfectly genuine and correct, so she didn't need to erase it.

She already knows how to speak Catalan correctly with perfectly correct sounds, and she decided to start speaking it wrongly. Imagine if a native English speaker decided to change their accent and start making a noticeable mistake, like rolling the Rs. It's quite strange, but in our case it again has to do with the situation of prestige. Speaking Catalan with its correct (non-Spanish) sounds, and even more when you have a noticeable non-standard accent, very easily gets you made fun of and labelled a "farmer" and "rural" (even if you're from a big city) which has the implicit meaning of "uneducated", "unrefined", "ridiculous", etc. I'm from near Barcelona and have a very soft accent, not like Girona or Lleida or anyone that can be more noticed, yet when I went to uni my Spanish-speaker friends from the Barcelona Metropolitan Area always imitated my accent exaggerating it to laugh at it. It's way worse for people from Girona, Central Catalonia, or any other that has strong è/é and ò/ó difference and strongly marked əs. Both of which Mallorcan has. People are already often looked down upon or thought of as "funny", "ridiculous" or "shouldn't be speaking Catalan instead of Spanish on camera or in Important™ situations" for speaking Catalan at all, and these same feelings become exaggerated when the accent is perceived as "more Catalan" (more different from Spanish, or from the countryside/not from Barcelona Metropolitan Area).

Code-switching. It's very common for people who live in a place with a different dialect/accent from their original one since they're young to learn to speak the way most people around them speak, even unconsciously. These people gain the ability to change accents depending on who they're speaking with (I have a friend whose family is from a town near Lleida but she grew up where I'm from and it was mind-blowing the first time I heard her speak to her parents!). If she's been in Barcelona for 10 years, it's not unusual that she can do this. So I assume most people around her, or a considerable amount, speak "xava" accent and it caught on.

*Catalan people aren't as used to hearing Catalan accents outside of their own as would be normal. Because of the Spanish government's restrictions on Catalan-language media and Catalan institutional collaboration, we are kept separate. We've talked about this before in the way that it's illegal to air TV and radio from Catalonia in the Valencian Country, or from the Valencian Country in Catalonia. This is done to dilute the Catalan Countries, so we're not as strong as we would be together. This has the result on Catalan speakers from each "autonomic community" (administrative regions in the Spanish system) only being able to hear their own speech variety(ies). For this reason, people from Catalonia can struggle with Balearic Islands, because many of them might never have heard it before. But if we listen for like 2 minutes, the mystery is gone and it's not difficult. But people might get put back at first, so Mallorcans with a strong accent who come to Catalonia can feel the need to soften their accent.

Lastly, the guy who made that tweet is a linguist who is quite famous for making remarks about extremely small details. He makes interesting points from a linguist point of view but don't take his word as representative of what most people believe.

We can't know for sure why she chooses to change her accent the way she does unless she tells us herself, but it definitely feels surprising to hear her speak in different accents! It's probably a mix of more than one reason.

The OP and the people in that thread are defending that everyone should feel okay speaking their accent, and OP points out that there's a sociological reason why she chooses to hide her accent when speaking to media outside of Mallorca. He's pointing out that it's more correct to speak her original accent (Mallorcan) than the one where you would usually be able to tell that whoever is speaking it isn't a native speaker (xava), and that it's a shame that accents are invisibilitzed to sound more "acceptable" or "cool".

I hope it makes more sense now!

[homestuckreplay]

!!!! page 413 revealed !!!!

(page 409-418)

7/28/2009 Wheel Spin: Sburb Lore Verdict: INCORRECT

7/29/2009 Wheel Spin: Character Switch Verdict: CORRECT!!!!

First, we get the details of John's shift from hammerkind to handlekind. It's a fun mechanic, but I'm a little sad because I really liked the idea of John needing to use both separate halves of the hammer to defeat the shale imp. Also, being able to repair the hammer just by merging cards is definitely consistent with existing captchalogue lore, but it's a tiny bit unsatisfying if a weapon getting broken isn't a meaningful risk. Still, I like getting clarification on the rules, it definitely helps for future theorizing.

Dave is pestering everyone here, as is seemingly his way. I like his silly face being in the speech bubbles on p.411 and p.415, and I know it's for the player/reader and doesn't exist to the characters, but it raises the question. Do John and Rose have any idea what Dave looks like? He's a photographer, and in 2009 digital cameras have just recently become affordable enough to be mainstream. It's cute to think about these kids taking grainy digital pictures of themselves and figuring out how to upload a picture to Pesterchum so that they can show each other what they look like. But it's also funny to imagine that booting up Sburb was Rose's first ever time seeing John's face.

I expected Rose to bring the generator back to her house, but no, she's straight up in the mausoleum. Just setting up a tiny home with her tuxedoed dead cat and her books and pillows and violin. This is unquestionably the most goth thing she's ever done, and it totally rules. She also shares some perspectives on how the dead should be buried, and while she might just be being contrarian and going against what her mom has done, I think it fits with her character that she'd have strong opinions on this. She's the kind of kid who might have already drawn up a funeral plan for herself.

One thing I 100% agree with Rose on? Generator safety IS everyone's business. I think it makes sense that she'd know about that given that she lives in such a rural area, and it's cool to see her exercise those practical skills.

And I gotta say, good on John for noticing the door had been put back into place. I had to scroll back through the comic a bunch to notice what was out of place - he doesn't have that luxury and he's been through a lot recently. He's definitely more perceptive than I give him credit for.

We end this segment with an absolute slam dunk of a prankster's gambit from John's nan. And really, who's surprised? She was probably the OG prankster of John's family, and taught John's dad everything he knows. And now she's come back as a ghost, merged with a mischievous, one-armed, cake-smeared harlequin doll, and is basically the absolute embodiment of mischief. The fact that she was killed by a Colonel Sassacre's and a ladder, and that John recently got up to some urn based antics, can't hurt either.

Everything that has happened to this woman in canon has been classic comedy related - and this plus the Ghost Dad parallels make me think that her coming back as a pranky ghost has been planned from the start. And her reveal moment is very satisfying - glowing, hovering, unapologetic, her prankster's gambit bar at max having just succeeded on an often-pulled prank that's classic for a reason, an old timey version of Harlequin playing. Hoo hoo hoo indeed.

[erazonpo3]

Erazon's Characterisation Essay (Part 1 - Cynthia Edition)

General preface; This is me snowballing on a thought I had earlier about canon v fanon trends given that it's a pretty evergreen topic. Without getting too much into the subject itself, I made the point that you can use the source material as a starting point for analysing characterisation, but in a lot of cases it's highly interpretive; using Pokemon as an example, most of the non-player characters exist to enable the player's autonomy throughout the game's storyline, and only a small handful have their own detailed arcs and backstories.

Therefore if you want to build on characterisation for them for transformative fanworks, you only have a handful of dialogue lines and some environmental storytelling that borders on olympic levels of mental gymnastics. Things like backstory and character motivation needs to be invented, to which end the concept of 'canon' characterisation becomes pretty insignificant in comparison to the story you are trying to tell, and whether or not that characterisation is thematically appropriate and compelling. Everyone is going to have a subjective opinion about the 'essence' of a character, the core traits that make them who they are, and how integral those traits are for it to be a 'canon' or 'fanon' interpretation.

And yet there's still ways to analyse the games to draw some conclusions that aren't always obvious straight away.

I'm going to go into how I draw characterisation for Cynthia for Way Out, but keep in mind that I don't consider my characterisation perfect or the One True Depiction To End All Others etc and so on and so forth. There's things I need to discard in favour of the story– adults in the Pokemon games, including Cynthia, have a pretty laissez-faire attitude when it comes to kids handling crises so that the target audience (kids) can feel acutalised as they play through the story, but it's not always what I consider a core character trait so much as a function of the medium.

I play up a sense of responsibility and duty that isn't really depicted in the games but is nevertheless an easy takeaway in order to give her character a bit more depth and relateability. And when other people take her character in a different direction, I try to keep an open mind about what they're saying about her character in their story, because their story is not a video game for children nor a webcomic, and they will need to do different things depending on her narrative role.

(I don't have to like it, but I'm no less a subjective soul than anyone else).

I also pull here and there from other sources of inspiration, one I've mentioned before is a meta-analysis of how she's treated by the fandom in general, assuming she'd be treated a similar way as a public figure in-universe. A lot of my character work is about peeling back that legendary status and asking who the person underneath is and how she might deal with the pressures of being expected to consistently meet other people's high standards, and how to balance a healthy competitive streak without it becoming toxic.

But more to the point– here's some material exclusively from Platinum that I think collates to a pretty consistent depiction of her character, to keep in mind and interpret any which way, arranged into some key traits.

She is the granddaughter of a village elder in a traditional rural town.

"My grandma has this sort of bossy atmosphere about her. I think you'll recognize her right away. Yes, I'm sure you will. She's the elder of Celestic Town"

An overlooked aspect of her character that I think holds some of the ripest potential for her character is that we know a fair deal about where her family is from, potentially where she was raised. My personal conclusions are:

It is likely she has an ingrained sense of cultural values of humility, respect, duty, and tradition. While she may not be ruled by these traits, they would influence the way she interacts with the world.

Her interest in mythology is likely inspired the mural in Celestic town, and reflects a value of heritage and history.

It's a common 'fanon' that her grandmother was her primary guardian through much of her childhood, which isn't substantiated anywhere (just because we don't meet her parents as NPCs doesn't mean they don't exist) but this idea strengthens the connection she has to Celestic town and emphasises her position as the elder's heir.

Cynthia introducing herself as a trainer and not a Champion suggests humility; she positions herself as an equal to the player as opposed to a superior.

2. She is earnest and sincere

"...The places we are born. The time we spend living... The languages we speak... We are all different. But the presence of Pokémon unites us. We share our lives with our Pokémon and our happiness grows as we all become greater than we were alone. That is why we can battle and trade with anyone we choose..."

This is a reflection of her position as a narrative foil to Cyrus; where he dismisses the importance of emotion and 'spirit', she holds it in high regard. Thus;

She sees strong emotions as the source of her bond to her Pokemon and therefore the source of her success. While it's not to say she's an overly empathetic person, I think it follows easily that is generally emotionally intelligent (generally).

I think she's self-aware about how emotional she can be too, which is to say it's something she consciously embraces despite knowing she comes across a little overly earnest (and cheesy) sometimes.

"I love the sound a piano makes. I savor every note with my entire being. It's not only my ears; my spirit hears the music it makes... Ehehe, I made myself cringe saying that."

3. She is intelligent

"I think I let myself get carried away and talked for far too long. I'm sorry, and thank you"

This feels like a no brainer (ha) but it's also easy to take someone who comes across as emotional and write them off as being illogical or not having the depth for complex thought. To me, her emotional intelligence goes hand in hand with her analytical intelligence.

Her fascination with mythology is one of her defining traits, and her dialogue is the source of much of the lore surrounding the Sinnoh legendary Pokemon.

Her pursuit of knowledge is one of her defining traits; her interest in mythology and the distant past is referenced more frequently by herself and other NPCs than the fact of her being Champion. "My big sister is studying the myths of Sinnoh. She wants to know how people and Pokemon interacted in the days of myths."

As a Champion, I consider that she's very calculating and analytical. Even without the strategic held items given to her in BDSP, her Pokemon have perfect stats and have solid type coverage. It's not something she would accidentally stumble onto.

"When you are facing a Trainer in battle, you can learn everything about them. What Pokemon they have. What moves they've taught. What items they make Pokemon hold."

4. She is kind

"I want you to keep traveling to many far-off places. I want you to keep meeting all kinds of people and Pokémon. I came all the way here just so I could say that to you!"

A Champion in this game being kind isn't really a revolutionary idea, but it's still something I consider very integral, particularly in conjunction with the prior traits; there is diplomacy and there is compassion, and to me Cynthia balances both.

She is something of a mentor figure to the player, giving them the solution to obstacles on multiple occasissions (HM Cut, the Secret Medicine), and imparts a lot of lore to them. Notably she gives them an egg which hatches into a Togepi; while this event doesn't happen in BDSP and Platinum doesn't have the Fairy type, it's still retroactively made more interesting for the fact that Togekiss' modern Fairy/Flying type grants perfect immunity to her Garchomp's Dragon/Ground typing.

Some of the few interactions the player will have with her is giving medicine to the Psyduck blocking the route to Celestic town, and then delivering a charm to her grandmother– it gives an impression that she is regularly invested in small acts of kindness.

5. Other tidbits

Every time she interacts with you as the player, it is always through the lens of an adult with a public position speaking to a child; I take it as a given that all her interactions have a slight amount of professional distance, and a formality she wouldn't have if speaking to an adult friend.

She reveals that she went on a similar journey as the player character after being given a Pokedex by Professor Rowan, which could imply she experienced similar experiences to the established protagonist journey formula.

There's a slight goofiness to some of her dialogue that suggests she doesn't always take herself too seriously. "You've seen that group of Psyduck huddled with their heads in their, uh, hands...?"

It's a pretty common 'fanon' for Cynthia to have known Cyrus in her childhood, but this isn't really substantiated in text; her dialogue towards him would be a lot colder with that context as opposed to a stranger. It's a common headcanon because giving them a history together strengthens their position as foils, but in my opinion it's equally as interesting that Cyrus succeeds as far as he does because he exists in Cynthia's blind spot- she admits she didn't pay enough attention to what Team Galactic was up to, and can only stand in opposition to him ideologically, unwilling to entertain (or empathise with) his perspective. It hints at a certain stubbornness she has when she believes she's right and someone else is wrong.

This is just what I personally glean from the text; it's possible I've missed something that somebody else considers ultimately integral. But I hope that my writing in Way Out speaks for itself in how I apply all this to her character in the story, and why I feel it's important to do so. Cynthia is the character I second-guess the most in her characterisation because she should always be recognisable, even while going through different arcs. Her values, her intelligence, her sincerity, and her kindness are all things that need to be balanced with the needs of the story; how strong she is is just a relative thing to what any particular scene demands.

There's a lot I could still elaborate on but for the sake of at least attempting to keep this (relatively) concise, I wrote all this to highlight how I try to stay on track with consistent characterisation, which may not be the perfect ideal for this character but nevertheless is the best version for my story. There's nobody I hold to a higher writing standard than myself, and I try to constantly ask myself if I'm really writing what's best for the narrative or if I can do something better. I'm not interested in the most canon depiction that exists for another story, I'm interested in what's right for my story.

And uhhhh peace ✌️

[doveshovel]

can we get more Hunter lore? 👉👈 niche little blorbo

!! Can't believe my little guy has gained niche blorbo status. I am honored, thank you anon <3

Feels it's important to mention that I'm not a very good writer, and Hunter's entire deal is essentially just me trying to make a character whose backstory is wildly out of place in the girl power sparkly horsie game but still sort of works with the cannon actions of the player character. This is just a hastily thrown together summary of how he winds up in Jorvik. That said, of course you can get more Hunter lore! :^D Sorry this took so long but I had to do some art to go with it :'))

Everything's tucked below since there ended up being a lot more than expected :') I think it's all fairly mild but

Content Warnings: Image 1: Some mild blood

Image 2: (dressed) head injury

Hunter's pre-jorvik summary contains: patricide, improper body disposal, vehicle theft (x5), unlawful operation of motor vehicles, crossing state lines with stolen property, trespassing, breaking and entering, evading arrest, speeding, and other minor crimes. Also some mention of drowning, concussion, and brain damage.

When an attempt to slip away from his childhood home in the dead of night goes awry, Hunter accidentally hits and subsequently kills his father with a stolen car, then does some sloppy short-notice body disposal. It's nowhere near enough to make sure he's not a suspect, but it does ensure that the body isn't found for another week (until the neighbors come by to ask why his father wasn't at church, only to find that the front door's been left wide open and a small family of raccoons have made their home in the kitchen). He makes his way from his old house in rural North Carolina (U.S.) northwards through eight states under cover of night, switching cars three times along the way (once in Virginia, once in Pennsylvania, and again in New Jersey) until he arrives at the coast of Massachusetts.

^Hunter, age 19, 5 hours after hiding the body of his father

It's here that (not knowing shit about sailing, boats, or oceanic navigation) he chooses an old pontoon in a private dock to hotwire and sail across the Atlantic with the hope of evading prosecution. Three days into the so-far shockingly successful voyage, rough seas capsize his little vessel, leaving Hunter stranded half-conscious and about two-thirds drowned on some debris until the North Atlantic Current carries him into Jorvegian fishing territory. Five days after accidentally murdering his father, he's spotted drifting on some debris by the crew of a Jorvik fishing vessel and brought back to Cape West where he gets some bearings and starts life anew. :^)

The little pontoon isn't so lucky, and its remains wash up along the coast of Maine nearly three weeks later. By then, it's been connected to Hunter's murder + string of vehicle thefts, and he's presumed to have died at sea in an unsuccessful getaway. In some ways, he did.

Most memories of life before the storm have been wiped clear from his brain, and what little that returns in brief flashes is usually just as quickly forgotten again. Some foggy details of events in early childhood remain, but his entire personality is altered by damage and Hunter becomes someone else entirely, often feeling that he's living in a borrowed body.

^old doodle of Hunter, age 19, a week after landing in Cape West

Hunter spends about two weeks recovering from a concussion and anoxic brain damage at the fishing club's Cape West bunkhouse before he's well enough to start learning the ropes and work doing some slightly less intensive odd-jobs around the village (fixing nets, processing fish, delivering mail, a little stablehand work at Goldenleaf, etc.). He attends a riding camp in Moorland towards the end of his first year in Jorvik at the suggestion of Mr.Trout, who believes it'll be a good way to get some better ideas of what the horse-loving isle of Jorvik has to offer and find some sense of self beyond Goldenhills Valley.

From here, its essentially the main storyline with some minor changes and seasonings thrown in :^)

[leggerefiore]

Back in your inbox to discuss Cyrus bullshit again lmfao. I am normal. Totally normal.

So media literacy decline aside (no really, the reports are scary, less people can interpret nuance and hints), I blame 1) how young most of us were when we first played the games, 2) the OG Diamond and Pearl characterization (because it was a little different than Platinum's) and 3) the Pokemon Anime.

Largely skipping over the age thing because it speaks for itself. A good number of players were probably too young to catch all of the hints or grasp how irrational and emotionally driven Cyrus really was. Like, a legit Trauma Meter for our age group (20s) would be to ask if Cyrus freaked them out, or if they thought he had a point. Whatever the collective's first impression was would've colored YEARS of discussion and content. And I'm pretty sure I remember his reception being negative. Of course, the theory that he wrote the old notebook and that the old man was his Grandpa (meaning Cyrus was an abuse/neglect survivor) always existed. But before USUM and PokeMas added more implications, they were treated as "Just Theories" or after Platinum, retcons. Likewise, I think a good number of the older players WANTED Cyrus to be evil, so they kinda ignored it. Though there was an equal faction WISHING for a well written Sympathetic Villian. They missed Giovanni and had little hope GameFreak could write a worthwhile sympathetic villian because while Maxie and Archie weren't evil, their plan was just so stupid? Maybe it's because I grew up in a rural area at the start of the Going Green era, but I can remember being taught basic ecosystems in like 3rd or 4th Grade Science and learning that major changes to the environment were bad? And they were supposed to be super smart scientists?

On to game characterization, D/P Cyrus and Platinum Cyrus were portrayed slightly differently and I don't know if it was intentional or not, given how subtle the changes in the overall story were. But it boils down to a matter of A Means to an End, where D/P Cyrus seemed like he was changing the world to become a God, while Platinum Cyrus wanted to change the world and has to become a God to do so. Likewise, I don't think the implications that Cyrus was the abused/neglected grandson of that Old Man and the author of the old notebook were as strong. Also every scene with Cyrus in the Distortion World didn't exist in D/P so you didn't witness his breakdown or him admitting to his own faults. Charon/Pluto also wasn't in D/P, nor was the Rotom Room which was the first thing to give the "Cyrus wrote the Old Notebook Theory" any credibility.

My last reason was the Poke Anime and I talked a bit about it in a comment the other day. I have since looked it up and the D/P Anime aired the same day as the D/P Game Release, in Japan at least. So the 2nd most prevalent and remembered version of Cyrus is an ASS. The Anime did a great job of showing us the double life he was living, smiling and dressing/acting normal, albiet hammy, in front of Cynthia and that one old lady. But for a cold, stoic villian, he was super agressive, loud, short-tempered and dismissive in the anime. In that clip you shared, he wasn't calmly explaining why fighting was useless, he was about to snap on his admins. He yelled at someone else to (Ash I think). So it didn't even do a good job of portraying him as the kind of villian he was supposed to be, though this may have been because the series ended in 2011, so it may have been affected by the Platinum retcons.

But yeah, I'm also kinda sad about how people see Cyrus, but it isn't surprising. For everyone who "grew out of" pokemon or just never played Platinum, USUM, PokeMas or BDSP, they have to go back and relearn everything and not everyone does that. Nor will everyone want to because again, some people wanted Cyrus to be genuinely evil. And even if they do want to learn what changed and are open to it, they have to sift through years of content saying he was actually that bad.

It was a nightmare explaining to two of my homies why I was suddenly trying to write fanfic and draw fanart of him because they didn't get the memo.

Quick correction - It is not a theory that the old man is Cyrus's grandpa. It's confirmed from my understanding. Which it means Cyrus is likely an abuse victim (though, what Cyrus was going through was never entirely specified. Just that it was bad enough to concern his grandfather.)

I will note that his characterisation did change between Diamond-Pearl and Platinum (and now BDSP has introduced younger people to the pre-Platinum story), so I will give them that. But specifically, I was on the USUM battle theme still seeing it. (Interestingly, not at all on the BDSP rendition, though. Maybe because it's just Sinnoh fans who already know everything.) One of the top comments was ironically a joke about him seeing the Rotom Dex and wanting to kill everyone.

I think his character is really just generally misunderstood because of how subtle everything was is what I was originally trying to say. Like you said, some of it is general literacy issues. It just makes me sad to see him so misunderstood... I think Game Freak did a really good job writing him. Though, he does clearly read as emotional in both Diamond-Pearl and Platinum. At least, seeing his little chibi march up to you in BDSP after you ruin his plans really shows how emotional he truly is. While the Rotom Room journal is clearly only a theory, I do truly think he is the only logical character who fills that role so well. (Charon 100% would use Cyrus's childhood trauma journal for its precious Rotom research without a doubt seeing how quick he was to try to take over Team Galactic.)

I am glad that they gave him depth rather than just making him a generic bad guy... Actually, considering that Platinum was just before BW (well, a few years but development wise, I mean), I think it might have been their first steps into more character driven plots. I do hope people end up looking more into Cyrus, but I know he isn't the most popular villain at all. (I believe that crown goes to either Archie or Guzma. Or. Well. Lusamine, actually, probably.)

I convinced my friend by telling her about the Rotom Room stuff, actually. She already liked Cyrus since she is super into Sinnoh, but apparently, learning that he was besties with Rotom when he was a child sold her. Now she bravely helps me write for him sometimes lmao. My other friend, however... She still doesn't believe that he's actually 27.

Granted. Youtube comment section opinions should probably always be discarded.

Except maybe... This one. This is the only good and acceptable one lmao

[major-knighton]

Tonight, I was browsing through @gallusrostromegalus' Family Lore tag having a great time, when I got a phone call to announce the birth of my baby cousin, my first ever female cousin (I have six of those), and it reminded me that I, too, have a Weird Family Story that some people might be entertained by. So, this is the story of

How my birth solved a 7 decades old mystery

First, the setting of our story's first part. Rural Picardy, France, 1940s. War has just stopped, the Germans and Americans alike have left, but things are still A Mess. Lots of buildings and crops destroyed by bombings, everyone is poor and traumatized and lots of people have just disappeared. Still, life goes on.

My great grandmother, who in my mind will always be my beloved Mémé, is a young woman of 18 or so, works in a broom-making factory and lives in a tiny village at the foot of an old castle. She is also pregnant.

But wait, that's not a problem, a strapping young man of 20 wants to marry her, he's also a factory worker, and more importantly he's a delightful man and wonderful cook. Mémé is a sensible girl, she's very charmed and soon wedding bells are a-clanging.

Here's the catch : the baby she's pregnant with is not her husband's. This is not public information in the slightest, so the couple can live their life without scandal, but it's a sort of hushed up semi-secret within the family. Who is the actual father of the baby? Nobody knows. Maybe Mémé does, it's even likely because everyone in the village knows each other, but if she does, she doesn't tell. Doesn't talk about it, and those in the know know better than to ask.

I sincerely hope it was a sort of one-night-stand and not something more sordid, but that's something we'll never know.

Anywho. Mémé and Pépé have a very happy marriage, and go on to have another child, and they raise the half-siblings as full siblings, never treating the eldest any different. Pépé loves his daughter even if she's not his blood, and she returns it fiercely. As far as my Grandma is concerned, Pépé was her true father, the one who mattered.

Skip forward in time. My Grandma has four daughters, who of course know Pépé as their grandfather without question even after learning The Secret after adulthood. Blood is thicker than water but not as thick as the blackberry jam that Pépé made while you played in the pond during the summer holidays. The youngest of Grandma's four daughters is about to give birth to her first child, and Mémé and Pépé are delighted to welcome a fifth great-grandchild.

Traditionally, a birth is a moment of joy and happiness. I'm sure mine was too, but it was also rather chaotic, as my first action was to karate-kick my mother in the stomach to herald my imminent arrival, therefore making her spill her recently eaten pasta on my dad's shoes. My triumphant entry into this world did not stop there, as my poor beleaguered mother was told, right after delivering a baby of nearly 4kg, that this massive chunk of flesh and screams had Something Wrong With It. Not the best thing to hear after giving birth.

The Something Wrong, as it turned out, was a specific type of hip dysplasia. That means that my hips were not properly finished forming around my femurs to lock my legs to the rest of my body. A slightly too enthusiastic pediatrician demonstrated this by pulling on one of my pudgy little baby legs to show that it would go as far as the stretching of my muscles and skin would allow. My mom, lifelong rugby player nicknamed McGuyver by her friends and toughest person I know, proceeded to burst into tears.

Other than being a sure way to traumatize young mothers, hip dysplasia is not an irreversible problem. Several weeks of wearing solid diapers that were a bit more like a plaster cast than an article of clothing, my bones were set with nothing more than a slight crookedness that would result in mild scoliosis. I learned to walk and sit straight perfectly well, and all was well.

Except.

The pediatrician with very little tact remarked, in passing, how this specific variation of hip dysplasia is particularly common in Brittany, but not so much in our region. Bizarre, thought my mother, we have no Breton relatives or ancestry. But some weeks later, while she was watching baby me wiggle around making a lot of noise, she remembered that in the family village, there had been a family of Bretons.

To be fair, seeing as we had no contact with that family, and I was only told about all this after Pépé and Mémé's passing, we'll never have absolute utter certainty that Unkown Breton Man is the biological source of our very extensive family. But it seems hella likely.

I don't mind the uncertainty very much. I know who my great grandfather was : a very funny old man who kept pigeons, cooked like magic and flipped the table after losing at Scrabble to amuse his many grandchildren and great grandchildren, DNA or no DNA. I keep a picture of him, black and white, marching on strike with a cigarette in his mouth and a béret on his head. My eldest cousin is named after Pépé's father. He's the real family.

But knowing the history of dysplasia in the family is useful. Tonight, Pépé's first great great grandchild is born. Without dysplasia, but the doctors knew to look for signs of it in advance. So, I'm glad to welcome this little one. I'll sit her in my lap in a few years, and tell her how her great great grandparents loved each other deeply from 20 to 90.

[ahedderick]

Sports

Ok, I think that, in the USA, we are doing nearly everything wrong when it comes to kids' sports. However, there is still some good in it. But then we top that off by virtually eliminating [team] sports for everyone once they graduate high school. College sports? Well, yes, but they are more high-stakes, less fun, and available to very few young people. Adult soccer leagues or whatnot? Probably good, but there aren't very many opportunities for that sort of thing in more rural areas.

I don't think high school kids should make football/basketball/cheering their whole personality - but I have a lot of compassion for the large number of young people who really, really enjoy their time in high school sports and then graduate - to nothing. Go to college, go to work, but that fun, involving, social, adrenaline-filled space in their life is gone for good.

Last fall I asked my daughter if she and her then boyfriend (both graduated last year) would go back to the high school homecoming game. She said she had asked him about it, but he didn't want to go. When I thought about it, I realized it might be hella painful for a former player to go see all his younger friends in their uniforms, out on the field, getting all the attention and Playing Ball. That would HURT. And there doesn't seem to be anything to replace that joy with once kids age out of it. (this also applies to the band, the other music programs, and theater, to some extent)

Young adults need - something. I'm not sure what, exactly, but something.