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mysoftboybensolo · 4 months ago

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Things I Don't Understand of Audiences Reaction of Nosferatu 2024

Complaints of how this is a ripoff of Dracula, and I am like, of course it is! The original 1922 film is the most famous ripoff in the history of cinema, but it is also one of the best ripoffs ever. Maybe know your history just a bit.

Why are people saying that Ellen dying was stupid or unnecessary? Firstly, that has been the ending in the 1922 and the 1979 film, this wasn't just anything Eggers pulled from nowhere. Secondly, people don't seem to understand that the Gothic genre never not one that allows it's characters to walk away unscathed, whether it is physical damage or mental damage. Blood is demanded, and hardly a truly happy ending is found, at best a bittersweet ending or at worst an ending where everyone is unhappy. I think not only is it true to the films this one is based on, but also the only satisfying ending. Ellen wouldn't have been truly happy if she had survived, because she still will be a seer, she will still have darkness looming inside, and Thomas is either incapable or unwilling to accept it. He's belief that killing Orlok will bring a reset to everything, even bringing Ellen back to how she was before, but the Ellen she was before was still suffered. He brushes aside her nightmares without comfort, he doesn't take into account how she views their marriage (when she insists that she doesn't need material things but he acts as if he knows better), and when she tries to express her suffering, he would prefer her to suppress it. She would never be truly free, but to die doing a good thing, to have control over her death the way she didn't in life, it's an empowering end, if bittersweet.

People complaining about the pace of the film, saying it starts off fine but then drags in the middle? I think the film flowed wonderfully, there was never a moment when I was thinking how much longer to the end or felt it rushed in the story. I personally cannot wait until we get the extended version, but I am happy with how it came out.

Where are people getting "Orlok groomed Ellen" from? Grooming is when someone goes after a minor and gets them to be emotionally attached to them for a long period of time in order to achieve some sort of goal (often times sex). People have been saying Ellen was a "literal child", but we don't know that for certain. Yes, Ellen described herself as a child, but it seems that the term child is used more as a synonym of "inexperienced" or "young". Also, we are not sure how old any of these characters are. If we were to go by actors ages as guidelines, Lily-Rose Depp was 24 when filming this, and all we get in between the first scene to the present day is merely "years later". That can mean two years or ten, we cannot be sure. And while Lil-Rose Depp can look younger than her age, no one better try and say she was playing a 12 year old or whatever in that first scene, because there is no way you can convince me she is as young as that. Also, Ellen hadn't been emotionally attached to Orlok between the years to make it grooming. I can make a better argument of grooming in another famous Gothic movie the 2004 "Phantom of the Opera" then I could with "Nosferatu".

Listen, this movie won't be for everyone, that is fine, but what I have an issue with is saying people are dumb or evil for thinking Ellen x Orlok is interesting/has romantic elements to it. One person commented on another's post about saying that the cast are dumb for seeing this as a love triangle, especially Lily-Rose Depp for not seeing Ellen as a victim. The director, who also wrote it, wanted this version to play up the Death and the Maiden themes, that was their vision, and I don't think it's right or fair to say they are dumb because the original movie wasn't a love triangle. If we were to be really anal about it, so many pieces of media we have we wouldn't be able to enjoy because it's origins are not the same. Sorry Disney's Hunchback fans, you can't enjoy the happy ending because the original was a downer. Sorry Wicked fans, it's nothing like "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz", so it shouldn't be enjoyed. See how ridiculous it sounds? You can debate if whether or not they managed to achieve their goal, but you can't deny that was the intention and say people are dumb for picking up what they had intended.

I also feel that it's quite hypocritical of people to say that the relationship between Orlok and Ellen is evil and creepy, but then go off and say that the scenes where Friedrich has sex with Anna's corpse as "romantic" and Thomas' couch scene as "hot", when both deal with dubious/no consent at all. Just admit it, you are fine with dubious stuff so long as it's a hot guy doing it. The couch scene was quite uncomfortable for me, Ellen is clearly not in her right mind, even if not by some kind of possession, but emotionally, and it didn't sit right what Thomas did. I am not saying he raped her, but she wasn't in the right mind space to have this be a passionate moment. And he wasn't doing because of love or passion, he was doing it because he didn't like hearing Ellen say how he couldn't please her like the Count could. We had seen what they are like when they are in a good head space and the feeling mutual, as we saw in the den of the Harding's home. I feel like this scene wasn't meant to be a hot and sexy moment, but a incredibly distressing moment when two individuals are acting at their worst.

I don't understand how people feel that this film isn't a feminist film. I've seen people claim that the movie shames Ellen and that her not finding out how to stop Orlok is robbing her of her agency. Here's the thing, yes, many characters shame her for what she feels, but the narrative doesn't. As the audience, we feel sorry for her, feel bad for everything she is going through, and given the time period, of course there would be many people (mainly men) who will shame her passions or deny her darkness in favor for a more "womanly behavior". We are meant to see how the human world would never understand Ellen the way Orlok would understand her, why she would have called out a force that is inhuman, because humanity has turned her away. What's fascinating is that Ellen has control of Orlok, being able to call him, speak to him as an equal, and get him, a powerful centuries old being, to admit that she is his affliction, his weakness, and in the end, it's proven right. This mortal woman is able to defeat a supernatural being, all the while him loving her, how is that not awesome and feminist?

In regards to her finding the cure; true, in both the '22 and '79 film, Ellen figure out on her own what needs to be done to stop Orlok, but that doesn't mean '24 Ellen isn't smart or in charge of her own actions. We've seen Ellen say what the future holds multiple times, so it isn't crazy to believe that she would have seen what her fate would have been as it drew closer, and her need to talk to Von Franz read to me as her knowing the cure. When Ellen walks Von Franz to his home, she says that she knows what must be done, and they work together to make this happen, with him promising to keep Thomas away. Out of all the men, Von Franz had been the only one to take her feelings and thoughts seriously, and he does so here, including her in the plan (where Thomas had refused her to help), even giving her the chance to be stop Orlok without interruption. He isn't denying her agency, he's keeping others at bay so she can be the hero.

I like the moustache, just like a Romanian nobleman would have had, exactly what the director wanted. After leaving the theatre, my friend and I were discussing the film, and of course the design of Orlok was brought up, and she said "I liked it, especially the moustache, very Vlad the Impaler". She isn't a massive Dracula fan but she understood what was the inspiration behind it. Y'all are just uncultured swine.

In the end, I love this film, and wanted to just share my two cents.

#nosferatu #nosferatu 2024 #robert eggers #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard #lily rose depp #count orlok #ellen hutter #nicholas hoult #thomas hutter

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thefloatingstone · 8 months ago

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I would love to hear about the Flanderisation of Ghibli movies if you're willing to revisit the topic for someone who wasn't in the stream. The term is something I only just learned about recently and I'm really curious how it applied to Ghibli.

Only if you want to, though! I hope the stream was fun for you and everyone else.

Ah I was talking about a tumblr post speaking about this specific thing. How people in the internet really like to emphasise Ghibli movies as

"Oh cottagecore vibes! So cozy!"

And I had someone in my chat ask "are all Ghibli movies just cozy? Because I want to watch them but I need something with a little more teeth." And I had to assure them that aside from Ponyo, Kiki and MAYBE Totoro, Ghibli movies are NOT just cozy cottagecore feel good films and do actually have a LOT of substance to them.

And I don't blame the chat member for thinking ALL Ghibli is that kind of vibe because that is the way the internet as a whole have flanderised the Ghibli movies. Because a LOT of the Ghibli films deal with topics that are not cozy comfort films. Almost every Ghibli film has anti-war messaging, or a plea for nature conservation, or in some way or another a balance getting thrown off that needs correcting.

Sometimes a Ghibli movie is about the friction of different ideologies with no villain or bad guy, like Mononoke. Sometimes it's about responsibilities regarding the long term damage of war and the destruction of the environment like Nausicaa. Sometimes it's about post-war trauma and being anti-fascist like Porco Rosso. Sometimes it's about preserving nature in the face of progress like Pom Poko. Sometimes it's about overcoming the fear of new environments and experiences like Spirited Away. Sometimes it's about losing your passion for something when you make your passion your job like Kiki.

But the internet doesn't like focusing on those parts of Ghibli movies. They want to focus on the soft, comfortable, easily digestible parts of the Ghibli films. Which is why I am convinced Ponyo is probably one of the most popular Ghibli films in the US. You know. The one Ghibli made for toddlers.

Or Howl's Moving Castle which I don't consider to be a good movie. But even Howl's Moving castle has anti-war themes in it. It just takes a very big back-seat to the plot around Sophie. But even that is not what people focus on when they talk about it. The main focus most people have on Howl's Moving Castle is the "romance" between Howl and Sophie which is about as style over substance as you can get. I'm so sorry but it is.

If you look up "Ghibli" on most social media sites you're gonna get a LOT of results, but none of them are going to focus on the actual substance of the films or what they are inherently about at their core. Which is most often humanity and life affirming even or especially in the face of cruelty. Or it will be about the disregard of nature. Not so much from an conservationist perspective, but simply from a perspective of the lack of reverence society currently has of nature.

[Mononoke-hime Theater Program, July 1997]

But all of this substance has been lost when people talk about Ghibli movies in the public space in favour of The aesthetic.

To the point where I have people in my chat asking me if Ghibli HAS any substance to it. Or if they really are just nothing but comfort cozy cottagecore films.

#C-Puff answers

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numinousher · 8 months ago

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CHANTAJE! (xxv)

SUMMARY: being under the watchful eye of the media and your fans, your managers are in desperate need of regaining back your popularity after other influencers who hate you cause mayhem to your life. what best way to do so by having you pretend to be in a relationship with the popular 7 who are known to be intensely wealthy and stoic? will you be able to regain their trust or will they go with their promise of damaging your reputation even more?

WARNING(S) FOR LATER: gore/blood/murder, harassment/bullying, mental health talks (nothing badly triggering), child endangerment (mc was a child actor, again nothing badly triggering. if there is, there will be a warning)

NOTE: ahhhhh next chapter will need to be listened to with wildflower by billie eilish pls

TAGLIST (CLOSED): @parapiop7 @an-ever-angry-bi @softforyoongles @thenaverse @chansatlan @juju-227592 @skyys-universe @carolinexkpop @reallysparklychaos @namjooncrabs @savagemickey03 @drunkzseok @svnbangtansworld @2ne1unni

“That star is orange.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Jin, I get you’re old and you can’t see, but that star is for sure orange or some type of color,” you said, pointing directly at the star you were pointing at so Jin could see.

You two were night seeing stars for some reason. You two had wanted to go out to eat, but he had messed up the time and reservation, so he just ordered food to your place and you two put some blankets on the grass.

“You’re fucking with me that’s it,” Jim scoffed out, squinting his eyes to see the star you were pointing at better. “Girl, I cannot see shit.”

“You have such a potty mouth for one that is the oldest,” you said with amusement, looking down at his figure lying down on the grass. “Also, remind me to get you some binoculars or some shit because how can you not see it?”

“Leave me alone,” Jin groaned, softly pushing you away. “I see it now. Happy?”

“Well, now I feel like you said that out of pity,” you said with a noise while simultaneously crossing your arms dramatically. “We suck at this. We can go inside to look at some movie.”

“Can we see one of yours?” He suggested, standing up and sticking his hand out to help you get on your feet. You scrunched your nose as you two got the food to take it inside. “Come on, I haven’t seen one.”

“Fine,” you dragged out. You two walked back inside your room, heading immediately towards the living room so you could put one of your movies. “Sad, rom-com, action, or psychological horror?”

“Sad, I feel like crying today,” he replied. He sat down on the side closer to the door and waited until you put on one of your sad movies. It was everyone’s favorite genre so of course you had more than one. Just like how so many actors were given a title, yours was “she’s mostly known for being in sad movies.” You didn’t know whether you should take it as a compliment, but you did. It was nice being known as that since you did a good job causing tears.

You and Jin sat on the couch for 2 hours, watching your film, “Color Blue.” He went watching it without knowing the plot (you didn’t want to tell him) and now he was suffering the consequences. You were sobbing, he was sobbing, tissues were spread everything (just the table), and he was left hurt at the ending.

“That was it?” He sniffed. “What the hell? He just leaves? He just disappears like that?”

You sniff. “It’s insinuated she met the love of her life shortly after he left. He was her first love but, it was never supposed to be a forever thing due to this circumstances.”

“I hate your fucking movie, what the fuck?” Jin continued to sniff before a sob escaped his mouth. “That’s enough. I don’t want to see more.”

“Can you drive?” You sniffle, placing the tissue on your nose. “Should I call one of the boys?”

“Yeah, call one of those idiots,” Jin said considering the fact you two have been together since 8 AM.

You two didn’t do a lot. He and the others find so much comfort in your home they love lying around on your couch or on your bed. You don’t know why but he and the others have said your house smells like pumpkin and cinnamon, which would be a nice scent for fall.

You took it as a compliment.

You couldn’t help but swoon over Jin’s looks and the way he truly was an awkward person like you have been told. He does have some confidence, but he mostly uses that when he needs to. He used that when you two went to the store to buy some things you two needed for dinner.

You two had to leave, though, when it got a bit swarmed with fans.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you sniff before you and Jin simultaneously sobbed at the credit scene. You had forgotten a montage of your character and his favorite character was shown.

“Are you two okay?” Yoongi asked, standing up from his chair to look at his wristwatch. He looked at Jimin, gesturing for him while he grabbed his keys. “Hey, why are you two crying?”

They could just hear you both sobbing.

“He didn’t deserve that!” Jin exclaimed.

“It needed to end like that so she could meet him!”

As you two cried, Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung (they didn’t know where he came from) headed to the car parked in front of their house.

“Hurry up,” Jimin hissed. He had forgotten how slow of a driver Yoongi was.

After 10 minutes, they arrived to your house. Yoongi did break a couple of laws here and there but, they did get to your house unharmed.

Yoongi and Jimin had gotten out of the car when Taehyung did, which Jimin immediately stopped him for.

“What?” Taehyung scoffed as soon as Jimin stood in front of him, hands placed on his chest to prevent him from walking any further. “Let me go.”

“No,” Jimin replied with a frown. “Stay here. I’ll come get you once I make sure they’re fine.” Taehyung opened his mouth to argue but Jimin shushed him with a glare. “You will go crazy if you find out they’re hurt. Stay here. I am not fucking kidding.”

Once he made sure he wasn’t following, Jimin hurried into your house with such speed he was surprised he didn’t trip over your front stairs.

“They’re fine!” Yoongi exclaimed. Jimin appeared next to him, out of breath, chest heaving up and down. “They’re crying over a movie.”

“I-” Jimin gaped. He eyed the two figures on the couch hugging each other, holding on for dear life, almost as if they were to detach one would disappear. “What movie did you guys watch?”

“Color Blue,” you and Jin sobbed out, hugging each other tighter.

“Isn’t that your movie, Y/n?” Yoongi asked, eyebrows furrowing together. He glanced at your face on the screen, smiling at another character. “Why are you crying? Don’t you know the plot?”

“It still hurts, okay?” You cried out, throwing him a plushie. He easily caught it with one hand. “I’m such a good actress.”

“Yeah, you are,” Jin agreed, nodding his head rapidly.

Jimin sighed. “Okay, okay, come on.” He separated you two, letting Yoongi comfort you while he comforted Jin. “You big babies. Why are you watching a sad movie?”

“Jin said so,” you answered, grabbing another tissue and dabbing your nose.

“Of course he did. Jin loves sad movies.”

“I love the feeling it gives me.”

Jimin shook his head at his words. “See?” He placed a hand on the back of your head, lightly scratching your scalp while the other scratched Jin’s. “It’s okay, honey. Your movies are great. It’s just fictional.”

“It didn’t feel fictional,” Jin said, calming down. His eyes did tear up, though. “Oh, my God. They deserved their happy ending.”

“Jin, they did get their happy ending,” you sniffed. He looked at you and you gesture at the movie. “The guy at the end, his voice matches the other guys. Why do you think?”

He stayed silent before he gasped. “No way!”

“Yes!”

“What is the movie about?” Jimin whispered to Yoongi while you and Jin babbled.

“He ends up disappearing at the end,” Yoongi quickly answered in hopes you two wouldn’t listen. Just in case you two burst out crying again. “No one knows why he disappeared but, the next scene takes place months later after that. The movie ends with the audience hearing a voice that sounds just like his.”

Jimin frowned. That sounds sad.

He sighed.

“Okay, guys, come on,” he said, ushering Jin to stand up. “It’s late and we have work tomorrow so you mister,” he patted Jin’s shoulders, “need to sleep early.”

He nodded.

“Where’s Taehyung?” Yoongi asked, watching Jimin grabbing onto Jin as best as he could. His head swerved side to side. “I thought he was behind us.”

“I told him to stay in the car or else he was going to go—”

“Are they okay?” Taehyung exclaimed, coming inside the home. Jimin gulped at the intensity of his voice and let Yoongi reply that yes, you and Jin were crying and were fine. A movie of yours just made you two cry.

“Stop him before he heads to her,” Jimin rushed out, the two of them—Jin, too—heading towards Taehyung’s way to stop him from seeing you.

Yes, he loved Jin, he loved him so much. But he has never seen you cry, unlike Jin. So, he was definitely going to head to you with his heart hammering against his chest, his hands balled up into fists, his lips slightly parted, and his need for you stronger than ever.

“Taehyung, she’s fine.”

Jimin blocked Taehyung’s path, but that didn’t stop the man. He softly pushed Jimin away, eyes set on you.

“Taehyung.”

Taehyung ignored the calls for his name and took long strides to reach you, hand traveling down to grip your wrist, and his other helping you stand up.

In a blink of an eye, his hand slithered around to wrap it around your waist, letting his palm rest on the small of your back. He brought you closer, his other hand traveling up your arm, to your shoulder, until it reached the back of your head. His lips were brushing against yours, breaths tingling and intertwining with the others, and you swore your lips were pulling to his like they were magnets.

His thumbs brushed away your tears.

“Give me permission to kiss you and I’ll do it,” he breathed out, holding you like he was inhaling you. “If that’s what will make you better.”

“You’re not asking,” you mumbled in a breath, your nose being hit by the faint smell of his cologne.

“Fuck, I just need to kiss you so badly, please,” he pleaded, fingers slightly gripping your hip until white dents were left behind in their wake. “Please.”

You nodded rapidly against his hold.

He breathed in and kissed you with such intensity and desire, almost as if he had been holding back for years from kissing you. Soft, muffled moans escaped his mouth into yours, his hand gripping your hair a bit tighter to bring you even closer.

“He’s devouring her,” Jimin whispered to the others while they watched you two make out almost in need. “I told you bringing him here was a bad—Taehyung, put her down.”

They watched Taehyung pick you up from the ground, hand situated on your ass while the other gripped your thigh. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, and your lips still on his despite the change of position.

Kissing Taehyung felt like drinking water after being dehydrated for days, you noted.

His lips felt soft and the way he held you, touched you, and talked to you was enough for you to feel everything all at once. Every single guy made you feel more than you bargained for and you don’t know how to act. None of them knew how to act, either.

“No,” Taehyung dismissed Jimin, placing you on the wall with his hands still in his desired places. God, kissing you was a blessing itself, but having you in his hands all to himself was enough to keep him so happy and relieved. Kissing you was something. “She’s mine.”

“Okay, possessive bitch, leave her alone,” Jimin scoffed out, crossing his arms. Though, he couldn’t help but admit he loved watching you two fully make out in your home. Your safe place. “Make some space for me.”

Jin and Yoongi watched you and Taehyung go from kissing each other to now taking turns kissing the other person added. Your legs had unwrapped themselves from Taehyung’s waist, your feet now placed on the floor, and you were in between both men, caged in their arms, your lips smacking against Jimin’s and then Taehyung’s back and forth.

“This is a bad idea,” Yoongi sighed, shaking his head. “They’re eating her alive.”

“At least they won’t come to you every second of the day to ask for that,” Jin said with a chuckle, finding the scenery amusing. He glanced down at his watch. “It is getting late. Oh, God. That movie has some type of magic, my chest hurt for a sec, I swear.”

Yoongi nodded in agreement. “I know. I watched the movie by myself when I was sick and I couldn’t finish it. It was too painful.”

They continued to watch you three make out, their eyes following your guys’ hands touching and yearning for each other.

They weren’t going to lie but, they felt something in the pit of their stomachs just looking at you three.

Jimin and Taehyung’s hands gripped your waist, bringing you closer. Their breaths intertwined with your own, their moans, too. They kissed you as if you were going to leave, as if you would disappear if they stopped. What did you do to ever deserve this? And what did they ever do to be blessed with you? Not enough. They’ll do more for you. If you want the moon, they’ll find a way to buy it and name it after you. If you want the stars, they’ll buy every sparkly little piece of shit and name it after you. Your name deserves to grace beautiful things because you are the most beautiful of them all. Everyone deserves to utter your name when they look at the things the universe has graced them with.

“I need to breathe,” you softly breathe out, your hands on the back of their heads. You softly gasped as Taehyung’s lips trailed down your neck and Jimin claimed your lips again, both equally as bruising.

Jimin chuckled at the noise and looked at Taehyung. “Taehyung, let her breathe.”

Taehyung shook his head, teeth grazing the skin of your neck to suck on it. His lips kissed each mark he left behind before looking at you with the same hooded eyes he looked at you with.

“Do you want to breathe, angel?” He muttered, holding your face closer to his while the pad of his thumb ran itself over your bottom glossy lip. ��Hmm?”

“Just for a sec.”

He smiled before he rubbed his lips against yours. “One.” As you went to ask him what he meant by that number, he kissed you. Jimin snorted and backed away, shaking his head.

“He’s much more tamer compared to when he got together with us,” he noted, very amused. “Should we warn her about that?”

Yoongi scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re going to scare her off before she could kiss us.” He gave you two one more look before he turned around. “Let the poor girl breathe, Taehyung. Pretty sure she’s about to faint.”

“I think I’m about to faint because of how it feels,” Taehyung muttered out loud, taking you back to the wall so he could feel you up better that way.

“He’s acting like a starved man,” Jin whispered rather dramatically, looking at you with worry. “I feel like we would lock him away for her safety, God.”

“Taehyung!” Jin snapped.

Taehyung didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned back a bit, looking at them over his shoulder. He hummed, staring back at you and kissing your lips softly.

“Come on, you can see her tomorrow,” Jimin snorted out, loving the way you were much more comfortable.

“Why?” Taehyung muttered, tracing your lips. He couldn’t like away from them and your eyes. Your pretty eyes, such pretty eyes. He softly groaned. “God, don’t look at me like that please.”

“Taehyung.”

“You drive me so fucking crazy I’ll do anything for you,” he whispered as if it was a secret.

“Taehyung.”

“The way you taste and smell,” he continued to speak in a hush voice, lips trailing from your jawbone to your neck, “I could devour you whole.” He raised his head to look at you from under his lashes, his hand bringing up one of yours to kiss. “Will you let me?”

You smile and could see over his shoulder that the boys were looking at you three with happy eyes.

“Taehyung, if I say yes,” you started, “will you go home and go to sleep?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until I have you,” he said, not looking away from your lips.

“Okay, you can see her tomorrow,” Jimin scoffed with a smile. He dragged Taehyung away from you, ignoring his attempts to convince him to let him go so he can stay here in your home. Yoongi grabbed him away. “Sweet dreams, pretty girl.”

Jimin kissed you on the lips, backing away to taste your chapstick. “Wear that flavor. It tastes good.”

You snorted and led them out, watching Yoongi and Jin place a desperate Taehyung on the backseat. You stood on your driveway and waved. Jin came back to give you a kiss on the forehead and Yoongi, much to everyone’s surprise, gave you a quick peck. His left you gasping in surprise. You couldn’t even enjoy it.

“Bye, angel.”

“Bye…”

Everyone was busy the next day Taehyung swore he would die if he didn’t see in that exact moment.

He was tugging on his hair until Hoseok had to intervene, slapping his hands away.

He was dozing off, thinking about you and the pillow talk you would have after spending the night together.

He was loving the way his brain would visualize how life would be with you in their relationship, complete. He can die happily knowing that he has all the loves of his life with him.

Jin couldn’t stop thinking about you, on the other hand. None of them could stop. You were so embedded in their brains, they swore they could hear your voice until they snapped their heads and you weren’t there.

What have you done to them?

What type of spell have you put on them?

They didn’t know what but, they loved thinking of you, and they couldn’t complain. No. They couldn’t and they wouldn’t.

It was 6 PM.

You have been “together” for 2 to 3-ish months today.

You maintained lowkey and on the low, and managed to convince everyone that you two were in a relationship. You had doubters here and there but nothing serious.

As for your allegations, there hasn’t been an improvement. It’s hard knowing who did it and not being able to point fingers because you do not have evidence or anything valuable of some sorts.

6:30 PM.

You were in a meeting with Jae and Jake, talking about the new movie you were with Hyung-min that you two have been going over with together. He was there, too, but he was a bit farther away from you. He didn’t want to even hug you just in case he accidentally hurt you.

At 6:32 PM, your phone went off.

At 6:33 PM, your phone went off again.

And again.

At 6:36, Jae’s went off next.

Then Jake’s.

Jae looked at her phone once she noticed you simply shut yours off and just as she was going to shut it off, too, she eyed her notifications.

Her eyes widened and she stood up.

“Oh, no.”

You frown and look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Y/n… do not go on your phone,” she strictly told you, still looking at her phone. She was typing away and Jake, having looked down at his phone, too, felt his shoulders tense. “Call her PR team. Call the president of the company and alert a meeting ASAP.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” You frown, standing up alongside Hyung-min who had glanced at his phone, too, to see what had his girlfriend panicked. “Jae?”

“Babe, it came out,” Jae stressed, fixing her glasses slipping from the bridge of her nose.

“What did?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest, your hands becoming clammy at the thought of something of yours coming out. “Jae?”

“That stupid thing Namjoon was threatening you with,” she snapped. She calmed herself down. She didn’t even feel this stressed over your bullying allegations. “Remember he said he had something about your sister?” You nodded. “Honey, it got leaked. It’s everywhere.”

“What?” You froze. Your brain froze. Your thoughts were not circulating no more, and you felt numb. “What? Give me the phone.”

You snatched her phone away from her hands and read the article she was reading.

Your chest heaved up and down at coming to see she was telling the truth.

“This can’t be happening. This can’t.”

“I know…”

“I hid that for a reason!” You exclaimed, starting to pace. Hyung-min stood next to you, comforting you. You breathed in and out harshly. “Oh, my God…”

Your secret was out.

< before - after >

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celestial-prime · 1 month ago

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Transformers Franchise is dying...

In the past few days, some Transformers fans and influencers, including myself, are saying that the Transformers Franchise is dying... and unfortunately, they're right.

The Transformers franchise is slowly dying, and there are even rumors that by 2027, it might stop producing comics, merchandise, toys, literally, they will shut it down completely and stop everything. Which is terrifying. I had already been predicting this since last year, but many people couldn't see it, only now are they starting to realize it.

Transformers One was supposed to be the movie that would REVIVE the franchise, bring it back to life. But unfortunately, it failed miserably. After that flop, Hasbro stopped funding projects related to the franchise. And because of that, Transformers: Reactivate was also canceled, which worried a lot of people, including myself. I truly believed that Transformers One and Transformers: Reactivate were their last chances to bring the franchise back to the top.

But honestly, Transformers has been facing flop problems for a long time. And when I say a long time, I mean nearly seven years! In my opinion, the main cause of this seven-year downfall was Transformers: The Last Knight. I spent years defending that movie, but it was only last year (around August, I think, I don't really remember) that I finally realized how garbage and horrible it really is. That film caused massive damage to the franchise. The movie was so messy, disgusting and awful, that many fans lost interest and gave up on Transformers entirely.

Even though the Bumblebee movie and Transformers: Rise of the Beasts tried to save the franchise, they didn’t succeed, mostly because of the damage The Last Knight had already done. By the end of last year, with all the cancellations going on, I basically started leaving the franchise behind. I’m no longer keeping up with news or leaks. I’ve even stopped sharing fanart and memes here on this account and on my other social media.

The only thing I’m somewhat aware of now is that there’s a new comic series, where Optimus has Megatron’s arm in a weird, crazy storyline. That’s the only ongoing content I know about. There are also rumors that they want to make a new Transformers series, but once again, it’s supposed to be a kids' show, which won’t attract much attention from the general audience.

So unfortunately, Transformers is heading down a dark path, and I don’t think there’s a way back. Making movies? Out of the question, the franchise already has too many, and it’s oversaturated. Making series? Same problem. If I’m not mistaken, there are over nine Transformers series now, and each one has a different timeline and continuity. That’s another major issue with Transformers: too many universes, with no clear or official timeline like Generation 1 had.

The last series released was Transformers: Earthspark. I liked the first season, but from the second and third, everything went downhill. Even the first season already flopped due to numerous controversies, especially the one about Nightshade being a non-binary character. Their attempt to include diversity in Transformers made a lot of fans, especially parents (since it's a kids' show), really mad. The viewership dropped after the episode where Nightshade revealed their gender identity.

You can also see the drop in animation and graphic quality starting from seasons two and three. As much as I loved the dynamic of Megatron being an Autobot and really close to Optimus (I actually think the MegOp ship is semi-canon in that series), it wasn’t enough to draw in a bigger audience. And again, it’s still a kids’ show.

In my opinion, what could save the franchise is launching a new game, but one made in partnership with a giant game company. For example, FromSoftware, which is known for creating some of the best open-world games with deep stories and epic adventures. There are also countless other studios out there that could make a deal with Hasbro to buy the rights and develop a game. If done right, this could bring the franchise back to life. But honestly, the chances are slim because of Transformers’ bad reputation, mostly thanks to Michael Bay.

Not only that, but the franchise is also extremely saturated when it comes to storytelling. No matter the game, series, or movie, it’s always the same thing: Optimus Prime vs. Megatron, Autobots vs. Decepticons. And whenever a new project comes out, it’s set in a completely different continuity or universe. Meaning: Transformers doesn’t follow a consistent, canonical timeline anymore. The last time we had that was with G1 and some comic runs. Every other new series, movie, or game has had a different universe, with different stories and different origin tales.

This makes the franchise very saturated and confusing, because fans can’t keep up and don’t even know if what they’re watching is canon or not. The only things I was still enjoying from Transformers before stepping away were the film trilogy, a few of the series, and some comics, and that’s it.

Another thing they could do is create a new series with the same tone and quality as Transformers: Prime, but even more serious. Transformers: Prime was incredible, and they wasted so many elements, like Silas, who had so much potential to be a great villain in seasons two or three. They could’ve explored more powerful Cybertronian relics too. But because each episode was expensive to produce, the third season was super short, and the movie wasn’t long either.

To me, Transformers: Robots in Disguise doesn’t even exist, it was that bad, a complete disaster. But anyway, those are my thoughts. Only God knows if Transformers will ever rise again. Even though Transformers One is being called one of the most-watched movies on Prime Video and there's talk of making a trilogy, I still don’t think it’ll be enough to save the franchise, especially because of the massive retcons and reboots. (Transformers One is supposedly a complete reboot of the entire franchise). A lot of fans, especially the nostalgic ones, didn’t like that at all. Many of them prefer the original version over the new one.

So yeah... those are my thoughts. I’m out of the loop now, and I don’t plan on coming back, because Transformers really is dying. And that’s why I chose to step away, I just can’t bear to watch one of the franchises that shaped my childhood die out completely. That’s why I’ve been more into other franchises now, like Sonic, and FNAF, which I’ve followed since the beginning, but now I’m back to being more active in it, along with other series as well.

Anyway... that was my rant. I’m leaving Transformers behind by choice, because I don’t want to suffer watching it fall apart.

#transformers #transformers prime #transformers tfp #tfp #optimus prime #megatron #my post

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auras-moonstone · 2 years ago

Note

Hey,

Can you write a mini story of Jack and the reader. And can the trope be a fake dating for the media. Also can you the reader as an actress as well. And during their fake dating fling, they developed their feelings for each other but weren’t that sure to admit. So Jack calls it off and starts dating another girl. Later on, he realizes he still has feelings for the reader. And you can write the ending, please surprise me!

hi! i love this trope😫 hope you enjoy it🤍!

lost in translation — jack champion

word count: 2,944

pairing: jack champion x fem!reader

summary: y/n and jack are working on a rom-com together and are asked to fake date. feelings bloom and jack calls it off, breaking y/n’s heart and, as collateral damage, their friendship.

author’s note: this is me claiming my love for louis partdrige (he’s so pretty😫) and lynn painter (read her books she’s amazing)

Y/N HAD ALWAYS BEEN A BIG ROMCOM LOVER, SO WHEN SHE GOT THE ROLE OF LIZ ON THE ADAPTATION OF BETTER THAN THE MOVIES, SHE WAS ON CLOUD NINE. She met Jack (the boy who was going to play Wes, her love interest) on the chemistry read and the director instantly fell in love with their dynamic, and that’s how they got the role.

During the shooting, Y/N and Jack developed a close friendship. But the fans of the well-known rom-com book started shipping them even when the content the community managers shared was very scarce—just a few pictures of them on their breaks or during the filming, and some bloopers. The whole media kept talking about them, about how good they looked together, how their chemistry transcended the screen; and so the people involved in the publicity of the movie made a decision.

“You want us to what?” Y/N asked dumbfounded.

“To fake-date. The press tour is about to start, and we think you two dating can really boost the excitement for the movie” the head of publicity stated. “We can’t actually make you do it, as it wasn’t originally in the contract, but we think this is a great idea. The people love you”.

Y/N looked at Jack, who hadn’t moved a muscle ever since the suggestion. “Jack? What do you think?”.

“Can we talk about it? Alone?” he asked to the man in front of them, who reluctantly nodded before leaving the office. “I honestly don’t know shit about publicity, but if they think it’s going to help, then we should do it”.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

Jack nodded “It’s you the one who doesn’t seem sure”.

“I don’t have a problem with fake dating you, I just don’t want our friendship to become weird or anything, because I value it a lot” Y/N told him. Jack’s heart broke, knowing how hard it was for her to establish friendships after her old friends started acting weird and became more interested in the events she could take them to rather than in her well-being and life. He knew he was one of her only real friends and now felt bad she had been put in such a spot.

“Hey, no. It won’t, it’ll be just like when we were filming, right? Just that we will do it in public” Jack tried to reassure her, pulling her into a hug.

“Okay… let’s just promise that if we get uncomfortable or if it’s becoming too much, we’ll be honest with each other and call this thing off, okay? Our friendship is way more important that the publicity” she said, looking him in the eyes.

Jack smiled, and showed her his little finger “I pinky promise”. Y/N laughed, wrapping her pinky with his.

And so their fake relationship began, not knowing that no promises could stop the feelings that were meant to evolve.

THEY COULDN’T REALLY TELL THE EXACT MOMENT EVERYTHING CHANGED. The shift in their relationship was so natural and gradual that they almost didn’t notice.

Everything was done more often—dates, kisses, hand holding—, physical touch seemed to be a need now—it could be just intertwined fingers or his arms wrapped around her shoulders and hers around his waist—, longing glances when the other wasn’t looking, eyes drifting to each other’s lips everytime one of them was talking. They even had dates out of the public sight—even though none of them called it a ‘date’, they simply convinced theirselves it was a friendly hang out. They slept at each other’s houses, waking up the following day with Jack’s arms draped around her waist while her back was pressed against his front or, their personal favorite, Y/N’s head on his chest and arms around his torso while Jack’s was wrapped around her shoulders pressing her more against his chest.

So yes, it was so slow and felt so natural that it took them time to realize they had fallen for each other. Both of them had completely different reactions—while Y/N decided she was going to take a risk and confess her feelings, Jack’s fears blinded him. It’s not that he didn’t want to admit his feelings, but everytime the option of confessing crossed his mind the words she spoke came to him: “I just don’t want our friendship to become weird or anything, because I value it a lot”. Y/N had been so scared of their friendship being ruined because of the fake dating thing, Jack knew keeping his feelings hidden was the best option. But also, he couldn’t keep hurting himself and that was exactly what he was doing by pretending to be her boyfriend when he wanted it to be real.

Friday came around, meaning it was their sleepover day. They had just finished eating the spaghetti Y/N made, and were about to choose a movie to watch when Jack decided to speak up at the same time Y/N opened her mouth to confess.

“Oh, sorry. You can tell me” Jack told her. Y/N shook her head, signalling him to go ahead. “I have been thinking and I think we should call the fake dating thing off”.

Y/N’s mouth was open, yet no words came out of it. She had been thinking for days what the best way to express her feelings for him would be. She had a whole speech planned and was now left speechless.

“Oh… okay, if you feel is the best thing” she faked her best smile, while trying not to fall apart right in front of his eyes. “I just… need to ask, is everything okay? I mean, this is very sudden”.

“I just feel this is becoming too much, and you said we should be honest with each other” he simply answered.

Y/N nodded playing with the remote control in her hand. It was clear, he felt uncomfortable being her fake boyfriend because he only saw her as a friend. “Right, yeah. Thank you for telling me, then. We should talk to the head of publicity tomorrow. The press tour is almost over, so there shouldn’t be any problem”

“Cool” Jack nodded. He should’ve felt relieved that she took it so well, but instead, he felt sad. Maybe even disappointed in the fact that she didn’t fight the decision. And he also felt angry at himself for expecting so much of her part when it wasn’t her fault that he had fallen for her and she didn’t feel the same.

Jack had wanted to save their friendship so bad, he didn’t realize that the conversation had been the first crack in the glass.

Y/N REALLY DID TRY TO NOT LET THE CIRCUMSTANCES INFLUENCE THEIR FRIENDSHIP, BUT THEY WERE SLOWLY DRIFTING APART. The texts were becoming less frequent and drier, the hang outs were brief and filled with awkwardness and so were their conversations.

The publicists thanked all the gods that the press tour was over, because they had never seen two people have less chemistry than Jack and Y/N. It was so hard for everyone to comprehend how two people whose eyes used to spark when they were around the other suddenly became lifeless.

But their breaking point came a few weeks later, it was the thing that made them stop talking for good. No more texting at all, no hanging out—alone or in public—no conversations, no looking at each other, no interactions at all.

Y/N was watching a movie with her friends, Millie and Louis, when Millie suddenly gasped. Y/N and Louis laughed “Mills, if you are with your phone while we’re watching a movie at least be discreet” the girl said, but Millie didn’t laugh or apologise, she just stared at her with saddened eyes, which made Y/N frown. “Is everything okay?”.

“When was the last time you opened social media?” she asked, while Louis took her phone to see what she was looking at.

Y/N saw him clench his jaw, which made her feel more confused “Um, I barely use my phone anymore, just to text… why? You’re scaring me, guys” she laughed nervously, trying to take a peek at the phone but Louis hid it quickly “Lou, give me the phone”.

The boy sitting next to her shook his head “It’s not the best idea”.

“Tell me what is going on, please. You’re making me anxious” Y/N’s voice was almost begging.

Millie sighed “It’s a picture someone took of Jack… he’s with a girl. They are… holding hands and exiting a restaurant”.

“Let me see” Y/N said extending her hand, but Louis just refused to do it. “Louis. Phone. Now”.

“Come on, Y/N/N, don’t be a masochist” Louis told her.

“I’m just going to see it on my phone later, so what you’re trying to do is useless” Y/N pointed out.

Louis sighed in defeat and gave her Millie’s phone. Y/N stared at the picture—Jack was looking as gorgeous as ever and her heart skipped a beat when she saw him. She missed him so fucking much, she hadn’t heard his voice in days (now she knew why, he was too busy). And then her eyes trailed to the girl holding his hand. She was very pretty—tall, long legs, blonde, muscular, stylish—and Y/N couldn’t help but compare herself with her.

“Stop it, I know what you’re doing and just don’t” Louis said, turning the phone off. “You’re gorgeous and way too good for him. It’s his loss, and he doesn’t deserve you”.

Y/N broke down for the first time in weeks, her feelings had been bottled up and the glass that held them inside finally exploded. Louis quickly put his arms around her, and Millie joined them in a heartbeat.

“I still have the fucking premiere” she cried harder when she remembered “What if- what if he goes with her? I can’t go”.

“Are you kidding me? You’re not going to miss the premiere. You work so hard for this! It’s your favorite rom-com and you are the main protagonist!” Millie said. “This is your dream. And you’re not going to let this ruin it”.

“I know, Mills. But I won’t be able to handle it. He’s going to be there, and even if she’s not there, I know he’s with her and looking at him knowing that will kill me” Y/N said, brushing away the tears. “Besides I can’t face that alone”.

“You’re not going to be alone. I’ll go with you” Louis offered.

“You actually had a great idea for once!” Millie exclaimed, making Louis roll his eyes and Y/N let out a little laugh. “Lou will be there for moral support, and you won’t feel alone. But you are definitely not going to miss your premiere”.

“Thank you, guys. I love you”

JACK’S MIND HAD BEEN A MESS LATELY. Y/N stopped responding his texts, it’s been two weeks with no signs of her. He would’ve been worried if he hadn’t seen the instagram stories her friends, Millie and Louis, posted with her. So it didn’t take a genius to realize she was ignoring him on purpose, and he didn’t have a clue why. He missed her so much, it was driving him insane. Jack wanted to go back to that night and take back everything he had said, they still would be fine if he hadn’t opened his mouth.

Jack thought that by cutting off the deal, they would go back to being friends and his feelings would have eventually faded away. He even started dating a girl he meet at the gym, but Y/N lingered on his mind all day, every day. And when the day of the premiere came, his eyes searched for her figure as soon as he arrived to the red carpet.

Jack’s smile widened when he saw her. She looked absolutely breathtaking—as always—but then his smile fell when he realized she was with someone else.

“Can you at least be a little less obvious?” Kate asked.

“Sorry” Jack apologised. “Thank you for coming with me, even after our breakup”.

“It isn’t a break up if we weren’t really together. It was just a couple of dates to benefit the other. You needed to get your mind off her, I needed to get my mind off my ex” she answered. “Although I have to say, I don’t know if me coming was the best idea”.

“Maybe not” Jack said, stopping for a picture “I just couldn’t face it alone”.

“He’s with her” Y/N said to Louis, faking smiles as the photographers flashed their cameras at them.

“I know. I’ve been feeling his stare ever since we arrived” Louis replied. “He’s totally jealous, I can feel it”.

Y/N shook her head “You’re speaking nonsense”

“Nope, I know what I’m talking about. And I get it, you’re looking incredibly stunning and you have an eye-candy with extremely good bone-structure on your arm”

“And with a big ego” she added with a laugh. “Let’s go, eye candy”.

“Don’t you need to take pictures with him?” Louis asked in a whisper as they approached Jack and his date.

“Yeah” Y/N sighed, chest tightening as they reached them. “Hi” she greeted, looking at Jack—who looked beyond handsome—and then set her eyes on the girl next to him. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you”.

“Kate” she greeted with a smile “And we both not that’s a lie” Kate laughed, surprising her. “It’s okay. Just, take the pictures and please, for the love of god, talk to each other!”

“Hi, I’m Louis and I’m very confused” the tall boy next to Y/N spoke up. “But I agree with the last part” he added, then looked at his friend “I’ll see you later to see the movie, okay? Let’s go…”

“Kate” the blonde girl reminded him as they walked away.

The two teenagers looked at each other, not knowing what to say. “We should… pose for the picture maybe?” Y/N broke the silence.

Jack nodded nervously “Yeah, yeah”.

He put his hand on her waist, and they both tensed. It had been so long since they were this close, their skin felt like burning and their hearts were beating at a dangerous rhythm. They only posed for a couple of seconds, yet it felt like an eternity. But once it was over, the awkwardness came back.

“Let’s go inside, our dates are waiting” she spoke up.

They entered the place, but as Y/N began to walk away, Jack’s hand grabbed hers making her stop in her tracks. “No. We need to talk first”.

“Jack, the movie is starting in a few minutes”

“A few minutes is all I need. I—we—can’t go on like this” Jack said. “I’m sorry. If I’m being honest, I don’t know exactly what I did, but I’m sorry for not trying hard enough to save our friendship”.

“That’s the thing, Jack. It isn’t your fault, it’s all on me. I’m the one who drifted apart because I didn’t know how to handle my feelings” Y/N let her guard down, willing to be completely honest. After all, their friendship was already dead.

“What do you mean?” Jack asked confused.

“I love you, Jack. I- I wanted to tell you. In fact, I planned on telling you during our last sleep over but-“

“But I called our deal off” he finished, cursing himself.

Y/N nodded “I understood that acting as my boyfriend was too much for you, because you only saw me as a friend. But I just couldn’t go back to being just your friend, I tried for a while but it was really hard. And then, you started dating her and… it killed me. I just couldn’t talk to you knowing you had someone else”.

Jack shook his head, wanting to laugh at the situation “The reason I called it off is because I fell for you, Y/N/N. I didn’t think you felt the same, and I knew how important our friendship was to you. I wanted to protect it, but instead I messed it up”

Y/N looked at him with her mouth open, and then laughed drily “Really? All this time we felt the same thing and we ruined it because we got lost in translation?” she said in a tone of disbelief “And now it’s already too late”.

“What? Why?” Jack asked surprised. “I still love you… you don’t love me anymore?”

“Of course I love you Jack, but you have a girlfriend”

“Kate is not my girlfriend. She never was” Jack told her.

“I saw the pictures, Jack”

“We went to a couple of dates, we both needed to get our minds off the people we loved. But we stopped once we realized how silly it was, we’re just friends” he explained. Jack took one step closer to her until her back touched the wall behind her “I love you and I want to be your boyfriend… that is if you aren’t dating Louis”.

Y/N laughed, her smile now impossible to erase “No, he came as a friend”

Jack smiled in relief “So…”

“So, boyfriend, we should get inside, our dates are waiting” Y/N said, a teasing smile on her face.

Jack laughed “Can I kiss you first?”

“I’m begging you” she said, grabbing the collar of his suit to push him down. Their lips met in the middle and they both smile through it “I missed this, I missed you”.

“God, I missed you too. You have no idea” he said, kissing her harder.

“Hey, this is a family friendly place” Louis’ voice interrupted them “Get inside, love birds, your movie is about to start”.

Jack and Y/N looked at each other with lovey smiles and, hand in hand, they entered the theatre to see the movie that brought them together.

#jack champion #jack champion x y/n #jack champion fluff #jack champion x reader #jackchampion #jack champion imagine #jack champion oneshot #ethan landry #louis partridge #millie bobby brown #better than the movies #liz buxbaum #wes and liz #wes bennett #jack champion fanfic

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haru-dipthong · 1 year ago

Text

How long will the japanese wikipedia article for goncharov last?

And how big is the internet, really?

I was in a wikipedia hole recently and I happened to notice that the Japanese article for Goncharov is the only language variant that is completely in-character.

Every other language specifies it as “Goncharov (meme)”. Japanese lists it as “Goncharov (1973 film)”, and formats the introduction as if it were a real movie:

Goncharov is a 1973 mafia film set in Naples, Italy. Produced by Martin Scorsese, the main cast includes Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, John Cazale, Gene Hackman, Cybill Shepherd, and Harvey Keitel.

— Wikipedia (my translation)

The rest of the article does go on to acknowledge Tumblr’s influence in Goncharov’s popularity, but every mention of this influence frames it as reviving the popularity of the supposedly real film. On two occasions the word 再燃 is used (the first kanji means “again” and the second kanji means “burn” - it means “rekindle” and can be similarly used in the metaphorical and literal sense, just like the english word “rekindle”).

Goncharov became particularly popularity on social media as a result of a reblog of a Tumblr post in August 2020. The post depicted shows the title of the film (Goncharov) in place of a brand logo on a shoe, which were described as “knockoff boots”. The image post and the comment attached to the reblog, mocking the fact that the original poster had not seen the film, became an internet meme. In November 2022, a poster made by a fan of Goncharov was uploaded to the internet, and the film’s popularity resurged. Various fan-made content about the story and production began to spread on Tumblr and other platforms. Goncharov has been widely covered in the media as an example of how fandom is born on the internet, with many prominent figures, including Scorsese himself, leaving comments.

— Wikipedia (my translation)

It’s clear the article is trying to adapt the real history of the meme and incorporate it as much as possible into the fictional history of the film. The rest follows quite similarly, and includes more analysis of how Tumblr culture created the “reignited” popularity, how Elon’s acquisition of Twitter resulted in an exodus of users to Tumblr which may have contributed to the increased awareness of the “movie”, etc. Though most of it is directly translated from the english, enough of it is original (such as the attempts to reconcile both real and fictional histories) that I suspect the article’s current state is intentional.

To get back to my initial question, how long will this article last like this?

Remember the whole Scots Wikipedia debacle? An american teenager had basically used simple word replacement to translate over 23,000 articles into Scots. Some people noticed this, but not many, and not loudly enough. It was only after a well researched reddit post pointed out the scale of the damage that people really took notice and action was taken. The wikipedia editor had apparently been doing this for 7 years before the reddit post was made.

If 20,000 articles could go largely unnoticed for 7 years, I imagine a single article could easily evade similar detection. Realistically, how many Japanese speakers are going to even hear about Goncharov and make it to the wikipedia article? Then, how many of them are going to do more googling and find out it’s all a hoax (or know already)? THEN, how many of them are going to tell a wikipedia admin that the article is a lie, or publicise it somehow in a way that forces the editors to update the article?

I think the reality is that although the internet may appear to be a massive open town square (or several), it also has side streets, and side streets of side streets. I feel like the number of active members in each online hobby or interest group are really quite small, and then they get divided between platforms, and even further divided into subgroups. I think if one decided it was something one wanted to do, it would be quite easy to become one of the most prevalent members of any online community you chose just by devoting the time and energy to it.

It’s also kind of shocking how much internet content is inaccessible on account of it being in a different language. English reigns supreme in terms of sheer volume, but there is original research and journalism and entertainment and art in every language, that hasn’t and might never be translated into english. For example, I found it very difficult to find any english sources or research for my post about the evolving conjugation of 違う, but I easily found several japanese papers and websites. In fact, if you google “違くない adjective or verb”, the first english result that doesn’t just handwave it as “informal” or “slang” is a tumblr blog with my post on it!

It’s a small internet indeed where my little hobby language blog is, according to google, the prevailing english source on what is quite a remarkable change in Japanese grammar that’s been happening since the 80s.

I think the Japanese unreality version of the Goncharov wikipedia article will stand for many years to come.

(below link shows the article at time of writing)

#langblr #japanese #japanese language #language #goncharov #the internet #long post #essay #日本語 #jimmy blogthong #official blog post

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kshahrewar-paradisaea · 2 months ago

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Regarding the people who are anti victim support in the Sparkle Care "community"

As you can see this is a brand new account. I've never had Tumblr but I have been shown Sparkle Care through my boyfriend who was and still is deeply passionate about Sparkle Care. I have seen what has happened in recent events and honestly the fact that you people think you're still in the right after pushing someone to overdose is fucking insane and I wonder how many people have scarred physically and psychologically or even worse because of you people. You people are a danger to society. Anti ship or whatever labels you chronically online friendless cretins have made up as of late, you guys are just pro harassment. The only anti you are is anti victim. You're telling me that

1. The art was private

2. Used as BLACKMAIL leaked by

3. Someone who was upset that they were kicked off the Sparkle Care team and said art was using

4. Characters that were a self insert of the creator and

5. A reflection of her REAL LIFE TRAUMA making her a victim and finally

6. Some of the content that was leaked was completely unrelated to the incest art and was supposed to be on Kittycorn's patreon so now she can no longer get any income from it sooooo theft of a small artist

Not a single person I have seen has bashed the person who released private blackmail content in revenge maliciously because a victim a VICTIM is coping with her own character, A SELF INSERT CHARACTER made art you don't like with something that grossed you out.

Media literacy is dead but this is the same group of people that cultivated such a deep culture of anti recovery self enabling freaks that were eating their moms jewelry and people who thought they were god. Just because a subject is depicted does not mean the author is in support. But you guys can't realize that when the source is actively condemning it. You people are no worse than the multiple film directors who sexualized Dolores Haze (ya know, Lolita's real name because pro harassers ((I'm not calling you anti anything)) are so uneducated on the things they talk about you probably haven't heard her real name until now) because they read the cliff notes version of the book and decided it was a love story with a young seductress and not a cautionary tale into the mind of a self justifying and unreliable narrator.

Dark themes belong in media. Purity culture and censorship is the death to the voice of victims. If you are not mature enough to understand that bad things in the real world happen and people will speak on their own experiences in different ways and you have the ability to block them then you are not mature enough to have any social media accounts. Do you guys think horror movies condone murder in real life? Do you think SVU condones sexual violence? Even if a piece of media does endorse dark themes then don't fucking consume it. Boycott that shit but boycotting small artists who have harmed NO real life minors or family members does not involve pushing them to self harm and suicide.

I've seen some people try and justify themselves by saying Kitty corn did it to herself. It is so obvious you realized the gravity of your actions too late and you're deflecting so you don't have to feel guilty because why would you cowardly keyboard warriors feel guilt from across the screen? You're safe in distance and anonymity and you forget that the people you are bullying are just as real as you. Tumblr and more so COVID have done irreparable damage to people's ability to socialize like normal people because you haven't seen a blade of grass or talked to a real person that you didn't immediately make uncomfortable in years good fucking god.

#sparklecare #sparklecriticism #sparklecrit community #sparklecare hospital

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 2 months ago

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Roll for Initiative--Part 4

Joe’s managed to keep the lock down about his limited knowledge on Dungeons & Dragons. He won’t say he learned about it because of you.

It only takes one text message though for the truth to start to unravel. If slaying dragons and BBEGs isn’t the place to confess feelings, where is?

Joe Burrow x Black Reader.

Series Masterlist

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Joe’s not paying attention. He hasn’t been able to since the question came up two and a half weeks ago, What if I said he’s my husband? It assumes a lot. The question makes leaps and bounds that you and him haven’t even touched with your pinkie toes yet. But he likes the sound of it, the possessive, my husband. It’s not about being owned. It’s about the quiet reassurance the way he’d belong to you and the way you’d belong to him. The kind of devotion that Joe knows is real work. But fuck, he wants that. With you.

He always wanted that, but the timing was always all too poor to let himself envision more. It still isn’t great timing, yet the damn remains broken. Joe has imagined it now for the last two and a half weeks as he settles in for sleep, how you might curl up next to him, into his side and rest your head on your chest. Or how you too would laugh way too long about something not that funny, but it wouldn’t matter if no one else got it, because it’s just for the two of you. No amount of dodging the teases of Tee or Ja’Marr can reign in the feelings now that Joe’s heard the phrase from your lips.

And he’s fucked. That much he knows. So utterly fucked because you’re going to be sitting across from him, pages and die set out, and Joe’s not going to be able to pay a single ounce of attention to the game when it’s start. He really needs to get it together and keep it together. But he’s not sure how that’s possible—given how you look in those jeans, the chunky knit sweater hanging off your frame, a V deep enough that it shows off the middle planes of your chest, which Joe wonders would feel and taste under his tongue.

Let’s not go there, Joe reprimands himself as he looks back down at the character sheet. He’s here. In the conference room. Under bright fluorescent lights. With important people who do not need to see him half hard.

Joe did reach out to the social coordinator for the team—who’s seated to his left, her own pages stacked in front of her—and that’s landed Joe here in Paycor in the middle of his off season, much too early. He sits among the creative and digital branch of the team with you to do a test run of a mini campaign, before larger conversations about slating the filming of an actual series. And he should not think about you like that. Not right now.

Initially, It was just going to be some of the guys from the team to play. But then it did seem like the kind of thing that could be interesting to show fans, so Joe pitched with the understanding a No could come. So far though, that hasn't happened.

Joe’s supposed to be helping though. And he’s not. He’s so not helping, distracted yet again by you getting your computer set up to the projector. There’s a bit of a crackle through the speakers before haunting piano sings out, strings coming in but not brightening the mood in the slightest.

“So, Joe, help me out here,” Ashlyn, the social media coordinator, laughs, gesturing to the page in front of her. His name is just enough to tear his gaze from you. “AC is armor class and I know it determines if I get hit and such. But if someone rolls the same number as it, would they actually be able to do damage or not?”

“Meets it, beats it.” Joe echoes the phrase you and your friends used to teach him. “So yes, if your AC is 12 and your opponent rolls at 12 on their first combat roll they would then roll for the damage you’ll take. If they rolled say like an 11, the next person in the combat order would go. The action wouldn’t actually go through.”

“Brutal. Okay, thanks. Like I know vaguely of this game but haven’t actually played so I apologize now for the million questions I’ll have.”

“No problem. I still have questions, so don’t worry about that.”

“And how do you know what order you go in?”

“So, before each combat scene, we’ll roll our d20’s. This one,” Joe points out, holding his own d20 out his palm for everyone to see. “You’ll take the number that shows up on top of the dice and then add the small number under Dexterity. So for example,” Joe shakes the dice in his palm before letting it fall. The dice falls onto the velvet box. “My base is a 9. It’s the number that’s face up, towards the ceiling. Then, I have a small 3 under my dexterity and I add that to 9. My total would be 12. We’d all go in number order, highest to lowest.”

“So,” one of the main marketing executives interjects, “if I got a total of 15, I’d go before you?”

Joe nods at the question. “Yep. Exactly like that.”

“Got it, got it.”

“It makes a lot more sense when you’re in the moment,” Joe reassures and he’s incredibly grateful to have the distraction of the questions. It puts a bit more distance between him and the thoughts that are circling in the background, on if he should even ask for more. It’d be too messy with your mother’s health at the helm.

Patience is a virtue and Joe’s supply is running a little thin. Especially so when you move in closer to the table. Your addition back at the head of the table shifts the attention. “Welcome weary travelers,” you begin.

Joe watches you turn your phone over, but keep it close by. Your mother just returned to work this week, light duty on the administrative end, but she’s yet to be able to pick up her shifts at the second job just yet—weekends for a retail store. He knows you're worried and though you agreed to hold this date, it’s obvious that you’re still a little anxious.

Your mother recovered well, no issues swallowing post the operation. But the hurdles haven’t disappeared. She’s on thyroid medication and will need follow up scans to make sure no more cancer is present. A journey that continues to unfurl and unfold as the visits go on.

“This should be a quick story. Single objective here. But you all are at the helm of this boat. Your decisions will dictate how this journey actually goes. Feel free to get creative. But be kind to your die. They will be our guiding stars. Wish upon them well.”

“You haven't cursed these, have you?” The senior manager of digital strategy laughs. Joe knows her face but tries as best as he can to recall her name. It dances on the tip of tongue but never comes fully.

You laugh at the question. “No. They have their own minds. Care to see for yourself?”

“I’m game.” Ashlyn pushes in a little closer with her chair and picks up her pencil.

“Our story starts in the Halls of Eve. The six of you have traveled wide and far in your lives prior. But here, when called upon by the Queen--a scarlett scroll you’ll find on your sheets--you all know that you must answer,” you start, setting the scene for the rescue mission for the lost prince taken by the hands of a cult.

“I’m out of spell slots! I knew I shouldn’t have taken the middle firewatch.”

Joe laughs a little at the frustration from AJ, the name finally returned to him after way too long in the midst of their game and with a lot of help from the group’s introductions. She shakes the pencil between her fingers as she looks through her sheets.

Joe leans in a little closer trying to get a peak, not to tell her what to do, but to help her think outside of the box. “That’s okay. Don’t forget that you have cantrips though. Things you can do without needing those slots.”

“Oh, good call, Joe.”

“I want to rage so bad,” Ashlyn laughs, flipping over her sheet. “But that’s a little too risky, with how close to the ledge we’re on.”

They’re so close to bringing down the biggest guy in the cult--not the head, but clear the muscle of the group. The tank, Joe remembers, from all the previous conversations you’ve had with him. Joe looks down to his sheet. He’s testing the waters with a paladin, his only request to you when you agreed to host the trial run. It’s a good balance for him to fade into the background just a little, but still be important--healing and strength, his ideal combination. Which Joe is more than okay without having the flair if it means the others around him get a chance to really feel out the characters and mechanics of the game.

“Hear me out,” Rob, one of the marketing executives, starts. His gaze settles on you. “If we get a distraction going, specifically Joe taking on the big guy, could I try to sneak around to untie the prince. At the very least he’d be free and then if that son of a gun in our way just happens to go tumbling off this cliff with the horse into the chasm below and we never speak of it, then that just happens, right?”

You merely shrug. “Doesn’t sound like it’s my character at risk of going down the cliff. Joe, how do you feel?”

Joe knows you’re asking about the plan and he knows he’s probably hallucinating the dripping sincerity in your gaze. But he wishes for a moment that it was a question getting at something more. Until the realization hits that the entire room is waiting for him to answer. “Uh,” he stutters, looking down at his sheet. He has more than half his health. But the drop is steep--30 feet you mentioned earlier when AJ nearly slipped down off it. She managed to recover and not find an untimely end. He does have a halfway decent Athletics bonus though. “If it’s our best shot, and if I go down, tell my story well.”

“Oh, wait a minute, Joe,” Ashlyn interjects. “We still have to make it back to the castle with the prince and no one knows what that will be like. I do like the idea of a distraction.”

“No, really, it’s okay. A lot of you are already doing the most you can. We still need to get the prince free and back home. So, one sacrifice isn’t the worst thing.”

“Rob, you’re a druid, right?” Ashlyn asks, clearly not entirely happy with the initial plan.

“Yeah,” Rob answers, voice tilted upwards with his own uncertainty.

“You’ve got animal handling, right? That’s something your proficient in, yeah?”

“Oh, let me see now.”

Your tuft of laughter is soft, the cardboard DM screen hides away what your fingers are doing, but Joe sees the amusement in your eyes, the way you lean in just a little. The smile lights up your face, though the bags aren’t gone, the levity brings something warm and bright to your face that Joe never wants to leave if he can help it.

“Oh, wait,” Rob exclaims. “I do! Thanks Ashlyn. Could I get in buddy with the horse and lure it away from the ledge? The horse the prince is tied up on. We can still take out the big guy but then there’s less risk.”

“So, do you want the horse to come to you or are you asking that you sneak in and lure the horse away?” you ask.

“I still need a distraction, so I guess sneak.”

You nod at Rob’s answer. “So who’s helping with the distraction and what is it?”

“I’m helping,” AJ and Ashlyn answer at the same time.

“I mean I have to be in,” Joe laughs. “I’m thinking a blitz, rapid fire sort of thing. All of our powers combined or something?”

“Or something,” you laugh. “Joe, you can do better than that.”

“No, no, if we coordinate a strike--long range weapons, it’d be enough. We shouldn’t group together, but if we stay sort of spread out like this,” AJ waves to the markers on the board of where their characters are, “he’d have to pick who he goes after.”

Joe’s already wielding the longsword, so keeping range should be fairly easy. But he notices the asterisk he left next to it. You’d described in more details than usual about when Joe came across the sword at the bottom of the creek they crossed. Like a moth to a flame, Joe picked it up from the waters. To find it hadn’t rusted. As if by magic in damn near pristine condition. There’s a hum--a vibration really. You feel it in your palms each time you touch the hilt. You know it’s magic, know it’s something calling out to you. But it is distant, a whisper in the wind that you strain to hear. Familiar in the way that coming back home is the same, but also different--time has worn away some of the familiarity.

“My longsword is enchanted, yes?” Joe asks. He’d attempted on his watch to attune to whatever magic was calling to him. He’d gotten close, but hadn’t broken all the way through.

“Is it?” you pose in return.

“Combat is not the time to do this, but, could this be the lost sword of my great great uncle?” Joe noticed on the sheet he’d been given the tiny breakdown of a backstory--a human who found religion to soothe the ache after the loss of both of his parents. His only family left that his character knew was a great, great uncle that had been gone for fifteen years. Adventuring isn’t so much about getting the loot, as it is the hopes that his character happens across something of his uncle, something to connect him back to his family.

“The thought of your uncle crosses your mind briefly,” you begin, voice dipped in something like chocolate as you speak--a smooth cadence that wraps each word gently. “A thought so brief that you nearly don’t register you’ve thought it until the sword’s hum turns into a buzz. The hilt warms between your palms, a yellow glow casting off the iron. The air crackles around you and the blade, charged now. There’s a kind of power surging into the sword, the vibration stronger now and though it feels like it’s almost too much--it feels right.”

Your eyes dance as you speak, the kind of excitement and joy that kids have in candy or toy stores. “Your great great uncle--a patronage of Anhur, a god of the storm--blessed and now so are you.”

“Oh, that’s cool as fuck,” Ashlyn laughs.

But Joe’s focused on you, the pull of your lips back over your teeth with your smile. The bubble of your laughter bouncing off the sounds of the music playing around them. You’re in an element, a space, Joe’s never seen--wrapped up in portraying the emotions and scenes just right. Body hunching over as you work the words up and out, like you can’t help but act out the scene. Breathtaking in a way that makes Joe want to seal this moment up, put it into permanent etchings so it’s never lost.

“Joe, you can roll with advantage for this.”

Joe blinks, his name yet again bringing him back down to earth. He picks up the d20 though and nods. “So that means I roll twice and take the higher base number, right?”

You nod. “Yep, perfect.”

“8,” Joe hisses watching the dice settle after his first roll. He picks it up again, and shakes it in his palm. His heart thunders in his chest. He can’t have such a stellar moment flattened like this. To have the sword of his great great uncle feels like a huge win and Joe desperately wants to follow up that revelation with something big. “It would suck to have such a shitty roll after I finally got something cool.”

“C’mon, c’mon, higher than a 10,” AJ chants. “Big guy’s number looks like it’s 14 or 15 to succeed.”

“Roll with the gods,” you laugh.

Joe tilts his palm, lets the dice tumble down and into the velvet box. It bounces once, then rolls. The rounded edges catching the dice after a long tense second. He almost doesn’t look. Joe watches you and the way you smile, and the way you lean in, and the way you look utterly stunning in the late afternoon sun that glimmers in through the window. But he has to look down. He has to know if he’ll actually get away with something cool in the game.

“Holy smokes!” Rob cheers. “It worked. Holy fuck it worked!”

A natural 20 stares back at Joe. No modifiers. No finagling. The number 20 stares back at Joe. He laughs, an incredulous sound barking up from his lungs. “A crit! That’s a critical hit, right!?”

The nod from you is all Joe needs before he’s pushing away from the table, a shout leaving him in his excitement. “That’s a crit,” you laugh.

“Now that’s what the fuck I’m talking about,” Joe barks again. He looks down at the dice again, unsure if it’s disappeared and he’s celebrated much too early. But the 20 is still there, it’s still facing the ceiling. Joe laughs at himself, the roaring of his heart still whooshes in his ears. “I feel like I do when I play football on a 3rd and like 8 drive. This is insane.”

“Welcome to the magic. Now, c’mon, c’mon. You haven’t even gotten to the best part. Sit,” you urge.

Joe exhales deeply before plopping back down into his chair. He pushes his hair back, nodding at you to continue. “I’m listening.”

“So, how do you want to do it?”

“Do what?” Joe asks. Part of him still can’t believe the roll. But it’s still there when he looks.

“Between the other two successful hits, totalling up to a staggering 16 points of damaging, plus your critical hit, this poor cultist doesn’t stand a chance. There’s more stricter rules for crits among other DM’s. I believe the technical rule is that whatever your damage die is you roll both die twice and then add all numbers up together. I’ve played with a house rule, an unofficial rule, that you double the dice and then just use that. Roll once, times that number by two. But as you recall, I did say we were playing with some training wheels so here again, I ask, how do you want to do it?”

The words are hitting Joe’s ears. He swears they are. But the excitement still bubbles in his veins and he’s laughing at how excited he is and how excited you look. None of the information is fully processed.

“God, I don’t know,” Joe huffs. “Jeez, okay. Let me think.” The room falls mostly silent.

It could be bloody. But Joe’s not sure about that, if he’d really want the dramatics of something visceral. He doesn’t want it to feel too lame. After a natural 20 dice roll he needs something with a little bit of flair. “So you said that the crossbows hit the guy like in his ribs, right?” Joe questions.

“Yes,” is the near immediate reply from you.

“Okay, I think when those arrows pierce around his side/ribs, I’m going to go for like a one-two punch and go right for the heart. Insert flair for the dramatics that I can’t think of right now.”

“I got you, Joe.”

And you do--as you recount the two blows to the sides, and you ham up Joe’s base, the scene playing out in front like a movie. The slow motion on the arrows, the slight leap of Joe’s characters off the fallen trunks from their earlier encounters in the battle as the blade pierces through flesh. The hot crackle and slight smell of burning flesh. The groan the cultist wheezes out. The hooves of the horse as it’s lured away from the cliff’s edge. It all plays with the crackle of the lightning from the blade of the sword.

When the dust settles, there’s only the carnage of the cultist bodies and the haggard breathing of Joe’s character before the journey back to the castle. The air is thick with the smell of copper from the blood mixing in with the rocks and blades of grass. The prince is freed. He blubbers his gratitude the entire journey back. The cuts are still weepy. The bones still ache. But the entire party sets out back to the castle and when they return, with no other combatives in the way, they’re greeted with cheers, claps to have the prince returned back home.

A victory.

“Keep an eye on your email. We’ll see what we can do,” AJ offers with a smile at the end. “This was such a thrill. You’re a great storyteller.”

“Thank you,” you whisper in return. Your backpack rests in the chair you sat in. All the dice are put away. The boards are packed up. Pencils have been returned to their pouches. Your computer’s been disconnected. All the maps and markers are bagged up too.

The room clears with the tail end of conversations echoing in the halls. Joe stays behind to help you get everything packed back into the crate and bags as they come in as you double check that you have all your cables and cords for your laptop. The work is easy enough that Joe can’t help but recall how you looked, how proud you sounded at their collective efforts. The kind of pride that is self-less. But the kind of thoughts that will distract again so Joe pushes them to the side as he pulls the small plastic crate behind him though you’ve mentioned a thousand times that you can handle it. This is just what you two do though. When you say you’re okay, Joe still does. It’s the way it’s supposed to be.

“How does it feel to be a cultist slayer?” you tease, fishing your keys out from your pocket. The parking structure is fairly empty at this time and Joe made sure to park next to you. Your vehicles backed in side by side--your reliable CR-V parked next to the Taycan. Joe remembers how proud you were to show off the keys to him when you purchased it by yourself 3 years ago.

He laughs at the question and pushes the handle down on the crate to get it into your back seat. “Feels pretty damn good.” But Joe knows what would feel better. It’s just not the right time. He’d want to approach you right, not blind side you with a confession. “Thanks for doing this. I appreciate it.”

“Thanks for actually putting it out there. Any more plans for today?”

“Uh, grocery shopping,” Joe laughs. “Pretty riveting things.”

“Would you want company? I think my mom is sick of me calling and I don’t think I could sit still by myself.”

He knew you were worried, just not this worried. Joe nods easily though at the ask. He’d be more than thrilled to have you join him. Though he already suspects you’re going to absolutely roasts his choices.

“I’d love your company,” Joe answers with a smile.

*******************

Grocery stores aren’t first date material. Not that you think any of this is a date, except for the way Joe takes your hand once inside of the store. He’s got one of the handheld baskets in his left hand and your hand in his right. Yet, this isn’t a date. Even if it does feel a little too intimate, like it’s just breeching through, cracking through the exterior that you always wondered if it was flimsy, when he pulls you even closer to his side. It’s not a date.

It’s just desperation, to keep yourself from absolutely sending your mother through the roof and knowing that home is somehow too still for you to be. Joe moves through the store with ease. He stops to grab some avocados and an onion, dropping your hand just long enough to press at the fruit and bag it before picking it up again.

“How are your parents?” you ask as you follow behind Joe towards the bread. But you’re following too far behind, it seems as Joe slows his stride and urges as gentle as wispy winds you next to him--again.

“They’re good. Mom says she’s glad to hear things are going well with your mom, by the way. I think if my dad doesn't find another house project to do he’ll combust. Or Mom will combust.”

That doesn’t surprise you. The Burrows are do-ers, the kind of busy that’s not always about doing, but is about having a plan, knowing what the next thing to do is, even if it’s not going to get done yet. A trait that you swear is just as genetic as it is learned.

“And your brothers?” you question. The bakery next to you smells heavenly of freshly baked pies--apple you think, but you don’t get much time to decipher that.

Joe slips some tortillas into the basket alongside the loaf of bread and then continues on towards the meat section. “They’re good too. They’ve asked when you’re going to come with me to visit again. I think they like you more than me, which if it weren’t you, I would absolutely take offense too.”

Joe’s brother’s are nice. You’ve really only managed to meet them briefly, not long enough that you see where you could’ve made such a lasting impression on them. Yet, the compliment still warms your chest. “Tell them I said hi and tell them the second you tell me with advance warning that you’re going back to visit, I’ll be joining.”

It’s bold to invite yourself. You know that, but you figure that perhaps this is the door creaking open a bit more.

Joe laughs, gaze lifting up from the lean ground beef to you. “I’m visiting again next weekend. Want to join?”

You’re supposed to go out with Bianca, one of your work friends, for drinks Friday night. You two have a long standing date though and you did go out last Friday even if the entire time you nursed one singular drink. “Count me in.”

And it’s so incredibly bold and so incredibly stupid to agree. The words remain, even as Joe debates on what packs of ground beef to get, you don’t take back the agreement to join him. And the second it remains, you wonder what you might’ve gotten yourself into. But perhaps worrying about that is fruitless when you’re already standing next to him in the grocery store, selecting packets of ground beef together.

With some minor rearranging, Joe places two packs of the ground beef into the bottom of the basket and then heads to his left--the aisle littered with jarred salsa, bags of rice and beans. “Do not tell me you’re making white people tacos,” you tease, putting together the ingredients in his basket.

Joe pauses with one hand on the jar of medium salsa. “Is it a crime?”

“Yes,” you return flatly. “Especially when you’re grabbing these ingredients right in front of me.”

“Show me the code then. Show me the penal code.”

You tug at the basket. But Joe doesn’t relent. So you point instead. “There, that’s the penal code right there,” you laugh.

It doesn’t stop him. He slips the jar of salsa and the taco season packets into his basket. “If I bought hard shells and promised to warm them up in the oven, I bet you’d join me.”

It’s what your mother did, passed down from her grandmother. And you’re sure the box does have instructions to warm in the oven before serving but you like to think it’s a personal lineage. One you can’t do without now. “Whether or not I’d agree with you doesn’t negate that these are in fact white people tacos,” you defend.

Joe grabs a box of hard shells. “I promise to heat them up in the oven, just for you.”

The sentence is followed up by his turn facing down the aisle. You stand there, frozen from his audacity--the quiet confidence like you won’t say no. And you can’t. You’ve got nothing else to do on a Friday after getting off work early to host the test session. Maybe you shouldn’t be so shocked. It is Joe you’re talking about. The man who has a quiet confidence that oozes off him, makes it damn near impossible for anyone that gets close not to feel a little charmed by it.

He moves on, hardly a step or two, before his hand reaches back, fingers stretched and waving. He doesn’t move at all. And you wonder if he’s calling for you. His gaze is distracted, staring at some sauce. The beckoning continues so you answer in turn and walk over to him. When your hand settles into his, he smiles a little.

The thing about Joe’s charm is that he’s not nearly this touchy or insistent on it. Maybe he needs it. You know that your life has been hectic but you’ve done your best to keep tabs on his world too. Not that Joe would always come outright and say it, not now at least.

“Want anything? Since we’re here.”

The question is an easy one to answer. But the steady stroke of Joe’s thumb over the back of your hand hitches your breath and you have you to pray to all gods in existence you don’t say anything particularly reckless. It’s a comforting feeling, tucked in this close to Joe’s warmth. You’ve always been able to melt into him just a little, but you know it’s pushing the boundaries. So you don’t let yourself do it often.

But right now, the desire calls out to you. You want to give in. You swallow it down though and nod at the question though he’s not looking at you anymore, paused now on the drink aisle. “I’m fine.”

“You sure? I don’t mind. Even though it kills me, I’d get you a 7-Up.” They’re not readily available as much as they used to be. But you do have a habit of grabbing a can or a bottle of it whenever you see it. So, you’re not shocked Joe has picked up on, but it still makes your chest warm to realize that he has noticed.

“7-Up is delicious. Take that slander back immediately.”

Joe squeezes at your hand. “Sorry. Can’t do that.”

You’re not sure if he’s doing this on purpose, when he tugs you back into him again even though you’ve tried your damndest to put even just a measly few inches between the two of you. But you think it might be the death of you. He might be the death of you.

But it doesn’t matter how much you protest, you don’t need the drink. Joe grabs a case, a passing apologetic glance as you wordlessly take the basket and follow him up to the register. He ensures that he’s carrying the case and the bags, having you tote only his keys. “You’re ridiculous, Joe,” you laugh as you hold the button on the fob for the truck to open.

“You say that like it bothers me.”

The thing you’ve learned about Joe is that while it looks like a lot doesn’t bother him, you know that there’s a lot more that does. And it’s not about Joe thinking he has to appear masculine. or that he can’t emote. He just compartmentalizes. There’s a part of him always looking to analyze, and breakdown and calculate.

And the off season rumblings, paired with a less than stellar season, are bound to be a natural disaster if Joe’s not careful. You wouldn’t put him on the back burner and you’re worried now with everything in your life you might have.

“Is there anything else bothering you?”

He pauses, the 12 pack of 7-Up just brushing the lining of his trunk. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just checking in. That’s all. Friends are allowed to do that, you know.”

“Have I done something that worries you? Because I don’t mean to worry you.” The words come out rushed, like there’s true panic behind them. He’s still careful as he places the groceries inside but now his worried glance is turned towards you.

This is not how you planned on it going. “No, no, it’s not bad. You’re just touchier than normal. With the hand holding and I wasn't sure if something happened.”

A small portion of the worry eases off Joe’s face. Even as he slips the trunk close, you can see the cogs turning the way he works his teeth gently over his bottom lip. “Are you not a fan of that? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, no,” you rush out. Because you do like the contact--more than you probably should like it. You’re not even embarrassed about the speed of your response because the last thing you want to do is give Joe the wrong impression. “It didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. The exact opposite really. I just wasn’t sure is all.”

That’s maybe not what you should’ve said. Because now his grin has turned devious. He presses in just a hair closer. The thrumming of your heart quickens just a little when he leans in. “So you liked it? That’s what you’re telling me.”

His eyes dance, the teasing tilt to his tone makes your stomach warm with desire. You are dancing next to the fire. You are asking to be burned. But you press in close to Joe, meet him just an inch or two in the middle. The tiny gap grows even smaller. “And if I said I did? Then what?”

It’s seven words. Two words. One challenge.

And you know Joseph Lee Burrow will not back down from a challenge.

The parking lot of a grocery store is much too public. There’s too many people who could be watching, who probably are all watching. But you don’t care. You hope the grates in the asphalt can handle the flood now.

The dam in its entirety is broken.

Joe’s jaw tics. His eyes dance behind those blue shaded glasses. He looks torn, like he wants to give into something and like he knows he shouldn’t. That liminal space that the two of you have always danced in.

Instead, Joe takes your hand, walking you to the driver side of your SUV. And here, though Joe’s still just tall enough to peek out over the top, he leans in, lips pressed against your ear. His voice is lower than usual. His breath brushes over your skin and sends a shiver down your spine. One hand squeezes at your hip. The skin nearly burns with his touch, underneath the denim.

“We can do this, if you want. But, please, do it only if you want.” Joe’s voice cracks, heavy with a kind of pain-though you might call it cracking restraint- that makes you wonder how long he’s been holding this back. Then Joe’s gone. He walks towards his car.

You really fucking want to. The only thought you have is I want to during the entirety of the drive. You’ve never been more sure of something that you’ve wanted.

Joe’s house has always felt big, open in a way that doesn't feel uninviting or intimidating. But now, in his kitchen, as you watch Joe peel open the carton and fill a glass with the soda, you’re annoyed and relieved by the distance. The tension pulls at his shoulders, you can see it underneath the white t-shirt.

“Hell of a move to pull in a Kroger parking lot,” Joe teases. He places the glass in front of you, a soft and dulled clink as it settles against the marble. All perishable items have been placed into the fridge and you and him stand on opposite sides of the kitchen counter.

But, please, do it only if you want. How long had Joe been harboring feelings? How long did you not pretend, how long could you have avoided the nagging worry?

“Tell it to me straight, Joe,” you request. But you’re not above begging.

His laughter falls in short bursts, bouncing off his pristine floors. But his gaze is warm, piercing blue eyes dark and his cheeks flushed. The man that’s almost always put together, who’s never caught really off guard, even if he does get heated in the moments, looks just the tiniest bit frazzled in front of you.

But you need an answer, even if everything screams at you to reassure him. You need an answer.

“You know, there’s a part of me that gets a little excited each time you say my name. Because I really do love the way you say my name. And I like it when you text me in the middle of the day--the most random things, if the chicken salad was good that day, or when you ask me about my day.”

The words leave him like he can’t stop them, like now that he’s going he can’t stop. Joe eases around the corner of the kitchen island, his steps steady and his hands warm when they capture yours. “And I like it when you trust me--tell me the things you’re probably too scared to tell anyone else. Because then I know I can tell you the things I’m scared to tell anyone else too. Because then I want to text you in the middle of the day--tell you about a restaurant I tried that I think you’d like or ask your opinion on shoes to buy. I want you to be there for me like I want to be there for you.”

You squeeze at his hands. “That’s not straight, Joe.”

He exhales. His eyes close and he laughs again. The sound that you’ve always wanted to keep in your pocket. You’ve saved the rare voice notes from him just to be able to replay the sound. I really do love the way you say my name. “It is straight. Because it’s the way I feel. I like you. A lot. More than I may have let on previously. But I meant it, I’m not going to push you. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now.”

The plate may be full. You may not be done with your mother’s health journey. You may not ever get to a place that makes you feel 100% ready for anything in life. But you do know next to Joe all of that feels less overbearing. You do know that with him life’s a little bit more worth living.

Your palms slip up his cheek. The stubble along his jaw scratches every so lightly and you halfway anticipate him to stop you, pull away from you. But he melts. You feel the tension slip from him. Joe settles into you, presses just a fraction of his weight into your body--hardly noticeable in the grand scheme of things. But you notice.

“I don’t give a damn about a plate right now,” you whisper, inching up with every word. “But you should tell me now to stop, if I’m reading this wrong.”

His lips are soft--not that you imagined otherwise--but it’s different. He’s firmer against you, pressing you now into the edge of the kitchen island. It’s more hesitant, the kind of kiss that tests the waters. Yet the second it’s over you miss it, want more of it.

“You’re not reading this wrong,” Joe whispers against your lips. His hands are pressed at your hips, in a tug between pushing you away and pulling you in closer.

“Good,” you laugh and seal another kiss to his waiting mouth,

The second kiss is steadier, more sure of itself. You and him haven’t learned a lot, but enough. There’s a push and pull. The stroke of his fingers underneath your sweater, dancing along the band of your jeans but it doesn’t feel greedy. His touch feels reverent, a touch to commitment to memory and you hope you never forget this feeling.

You hope you can always remember the way he tastes. How the flesh of his shoulder molds to the press of your fingers, how you pull Joe into you, how you want nothing more than to consume and be consumed--simultaneously.

You don’t know how long you two have been standing in the kitchen kissing. It could be mere seconds. It could be minutes. All you can focus on is the way Joe feels, the faintest of whimpers that emits from his chest when you whisper out his name, reveling in the feeling of the kisses along your neck and jaw.

All your senses are filled to the brim with Joe that time doesn’t matter. All you want is him. Just Joe.

“I am going to do this right, just so you know,” Joe states. It falls in pieces around his ragged breathing. The forced inhales and exhales give him extra wind so he can speak the words. “Ask you properly. With flowers over dinner, pick you up. The whole nine. I’d clear your Friday night next week in addition to your Saturday, if I were you.”

“I think I can keep those dates on the calendar free.”’

“You had better. Until then, I-I mean I want to continue, eventually, of course. But I’d prefer not to right now.”

The evidence is pressed up against you, highly indicative of just what the kissing has done to Joe. But you nod at the request. “Thanks for telling me,” you return softly and press one last kiss to his lips before you start to untangle yourself.

You hear it, the exhale from Joe as his mouth works around the starting sounds and see the phrase primed on his lips and you shake your head. “You better not be apologizing, Joe. I swear to God, if you’re apologizing for saying that you don’t want to have sex right now, I’m whooping somebody’s ass. Not sure who’s, but I’ll do it.”

“No,” he sighs, a tuft of laughter falling behind it. “I definitely was not about to apologize. Tacos--that’s what I was going to say. I’m going to go fix those ‘white people’ tacos that you were bashing earlier and warm up your hard shells.”

The stubble scratches at your lips as you press the chaste kiss to his jaw. “Good, that’s more like it.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fic #joe burrow series #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow imagine #j.burrow #h writes #dungeons and dragons

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bekolxeram · 8 months ago

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I swear this is the last time I bring up that air tanker in 2x14 voluntarily. The bottom line is, if you believe Tommy did fly that plane, that makes him not even superhero level cool, but Jonny Kim level cool. If you believe he didn't, then he's just as cool, always knowing a guy from all walks of line, ready to help out with whatever resource on hand the second Chimney says the word. At the end of the day, he saved the 118 and a bunch of civilians either way, and he did it again in S7 flying to that cruise ship. He'll always be our cool heroic pilot no matter what.

With that being said, I have some thoughts about the CAL FIRE line from the news reporter in that episode. If you're not interested, please read no further. And if you don't want to see this kind of posts at all but still want to read my other content, please block the tag #aviation realism.

I know Bobby said "217 incoming" when he saw that C-130, only the news reporter mentioned it was with CAL FIRE. That's why I suspect the CAL FIRE line was shoved in after the actual scenes were filmed, because they realized or someone explained to them how impractical and dangerous for an urban fire department to own a giant air tanker and just dump tons of water all over the city.

I saw the same technique utilized for the tsunami arc in S3. Anyone who has taken geography in high school can tell that in reality, there is no megathrust fault capable of generating Indian Ocean 2004 or Japan 2011 scale tsunami off the coast of SoCal. So where did the tsunami come from? In 3x02, before Sue asks Maddie to "triage" the dispatchers, you can hear once again a news reporter saying the tsunami is triggered by an earthquake off the coast of Alaska. This takes the fictional tsunami scenario from having zero basis in real life, to possible in extreme cases and greatly exaggerated for dramatic effect.

I thank whatever divine intervention or persistent technical advisor that made the CAL FIRE line possible.

2x14 was first aired on April 15, 2019. What you might not remember or realize is that something notable happened across the Atlantic on the very same day: the Notre-Dame fire. The entire world watched the cathedral burned for hours while over 400 firefighters all over Paris tried to contain the flame. A certain f...... former US president then suggested on Twitter that "perhaps flying water tankers could be used to put it out."

The French immediately responded by pointing out that dumping large amount of water from an aircraft at low altitude could "weaken the structure of Notre-Dame and result in collateral damage to the buildings in the vicinity." A retired FDNY battalion chief also told the media that water bombing would likely make the situation more dangerous, as civilians on the street might be hit if you miss the target.

The entire internet was clowning on that stable genius for such an innovative idea all afternoon. Imagine if 2x14 aired later that evening with not even a smaller single engine one, but a large 4 engine airtanker somehow belonging to the LAFD, that would come off extra stupid, even meme inspiring. But with the CAL FIRE line, they could at least claim that it was the extreme and rare circumstances requiring additional assistance from other agencies in the area, and it was not part of 911-verse LAFD's normal operation.

If the writers had done their homework beforehand and the CAL FIRE thing was always part of the script, good for them. If it was indeed shoved into the scene last minute, then they should thank their lucky stars.

I can already imagine the headache Bobby is going to have working on Hotshots as a consultant.

#tommy kinard #911 meta #aviation realism #bucktommy

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unlikeable-female-character · 3 months ago

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What are your thoughts on the Blake vs Baloney thing?

I believe her.

I don’t think she would have gone down this route if she did not have good reason and a strong case. No woman, be they a-lister or ordinary person in the street, would do this to themselves and their family if they didn’t have to. The woman rarely wins even if she actually wins. Because the precedent has been set that allegations do not ruin men’s lives. I mean....look at who is currently president of the United States....him being a felon and adjudicated rapist was not enough reason for people to not vote for him.

As we have seen by the insanity surrounding Blake's case, people are falling over themselves to not believe her, to diminish what she went through, to deny that it could possibly be true because of whatever thing she did years ago. The narrative is that if you're not the ‘perfect victim’ then just don't bother and that is so damaging. Because if you complain then someone will dig into your past and if they find even the smallest sliver of you not being, I don’t know, basically the Virgin Mary, then you aren’t to be trusted and aren’t to be believed. It’s sick. What should matter is what happened in that moment when she experienced that harassment and nothing else. Being a bit rude years ago is - or should be - irrelevant.

Her amended complaint states that other women in the production also had reason to raise issues at the time and they are willing to testify. I don't know who those women are but I applaud their bravery in being willing to testify especially after seeing the way that Blake has been treated since the original complaint.

The online/media circus surrounding it is absolutely gross. I can only admire Blake and Ryan for biding their time and letting the legal system do its job. Unlike him (who lest we forget seems more focused on making sure everyone thinks she was trying to steal his precious film from him and is concentrating rather less on disapproving the sexual harassment 🙃) and his lawyers who seem all too happy to continue perpetuating the smear campaign, this time with even more people online willing to jump into the fray. From what I can gather reading posts from actual lawyers who understand how to break this all down their belief is that he's trying to win in the court of public opinion because he doesn't stand a chance in a court of law. Like I said, even if she wins, she still loses.

The fact that he has right wing grifters like Candace Owens on his side…Jesus. If I see one more comment saying ‘oh but Candace has a great breakdown of it…’ No love, Candace just wants your clicks and if you stick around long enough you’ll find yourself being driven down that alt right pipeline to MAGA-ville so fast your head will spin.

The conspiracy theories are all ridiculous. The 'she was in love with him and he rejected her' one. The 'Ryan was jealous and so he's taking revenge' one. The absolutely vile 'Ryan is controlling her and making her do this and she's in an abusive relationship' one. I even saw something on Threads today where a person was trying to say that Hugh and Sutton's relationship was the catalyst for all this because Ryan saw what could happen between two people who worked together...like...what? How that translates into him somehow persuading his wife to file a complaint of sexual harassment i have zero clue. I'm also pretty sure Ryan knows what can happen between two people who work together since that's literally how he met Blake!

The one thing that did make me laugh because it was absolutely THE biggest self own was when they tried to say that Nicepool was based on him and oh my god. Firstly, pretty sure parody isn't illegal (otherwise wouldn't SNL be being sued on a regular basis?) but also - if I was watching a film and I saw a character who was unbelievably insufferable and annoying and recognised myself in that character...you couldn't torture that information out of me. Because i guarantee when everyone was watching DP&W in the summer not a single person was looking at Nicepool and thinking 'you know who he reminds me of...' BUT THEY ARE NOW. Idiot.

The braying mob online, riding so hard for a man who would never do the same for them, are so hypocritical and vile. They screech about Blake being a bully then go to the comments section of basically anyone who has anything positive to say about her or Ryan and write the most heinous shit imaginable. They don't recognise that the mean girl they are railing against is basically in the mirror looking back at them. Multiple fan pages on IG have either had to limit their comments or have posted to please stop bombarding them with hate. Ryan has limited comments and even Hugh's posts get their fair share of pro-Baloney crap on them and he's not even involved or been named in any of the complaints, he's just their friend. I don't know how any of it helps. It certainly doesn't make him look any better. I've seen multiple people say that if he really was the 'feminist' he claims to be he would have released something by now asking people to please back off, stop harassing women and let the law do it's work. So easy to do and costs nothing, and yet and yet....

One would hope that at some point the insanity of it all will calm down but I can't see it happening any time soon. I hope that Blake is able to have her day in court and I hope that the other women who say they will testify can screw their courage to the sticking place and not be scared away by all of this.

#blake lively #i stand with blake lively

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nwarrior777 · 1 year ago

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The problem with fatfetish is not in it existing, but in not-exsisting of alternative positive image of fatness in media, and not-exsisting of range of narrative in depicting fatness as something sexy in kinky images.

It's like media have two options for fat characters: 1) background comic relief in mass media 2) fatfetish art in internet niche. with not much of smth else

Respectful representation of fatness is big important topic for it's own discussion, but focusing on kinky art - fatness presented as smth sexy there, but it's almost always one narrative (usually food related)

And, i think, if we would have more ways of depicting sexiness of fatness, especially in kinky art, and bring sexiness of fatness in mass media, it would be easier to accept for people, that having kink for big bellies & softness is same as kink for muscle body, 6 packs, bdsm or any other kinks which are people fine with (kinks is smth totally ok to have, for the record)

Like, there are """cringe""" art of muscle kink too, and people have a little laugh about it sometimes, but nobody says that loving muscles is bad or disgusting - yes, because of fatphobia, but why are people so fatphobic still? Because they are not used to see positive images of fatness around and taught from childhood, by media narrative too, that fatness = bad. And they see all the scenarios you can imagine of muscles or thinness being sexy around, in media all scales. It's chicken and egg situation - one thing boosting another: we don't have positive image of fat > people learn "fat = not normal, bad" thought > they don't even think about questioning it because all the world around them is keeping this rule > a lot of people becoming media industry workers, and > they keep media not-including fat characters, keeping status quo > new generation, repeat.

In result we have this vicious circle. And we can break it, by making more fatness inclusive media, and going back to kink talk - we need more ways of depicting fatness as something sexy: new narratives, new plots in films, new lyric in songs, new art aesthetics.

I mean, you can have great time daydreaming that food scenarios, but wouldn't it be also cool to see sexy fat characters in other roles? Imagine - Sexy Fantasy Fat character, who got so much power that their body has to be bigger to keep all that. People went all horny then Detroit Become Human released - imagine cool fat robots, so fragile and complicated in their core parts, that they need big fat parts made of smth soft to prevent damage if they fall. Or fat characters in art, in just usual hot images narratives, but they drawn in a way, which make their fatness looking like hot detail, or even hot focus of the art.

I know we have progress and there are more and more examples of that i say. It just still few. So, let's go work hard and make more

#yeah it's sequel for my post about fatfetish #previous one was unreflected selfhate cause i thought if my goal is to draw fat people respectfully i can't have kinky desires for fat body #and i felt shame #but now i thinked some thoughts and well #you read the post #shock but you can draw fat people s ex y #kin ky even #and not making it offensivly #wow what a concept

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queenshelby · 2 years ago

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Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 43: MORE TAPE(S)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Extreme Smut

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

Two days had passed and you were back home in Dublin, confronted with a sex-tape between Cillian and his assistant Kit that, by now, had spread like wildfire, making you uncomfortable and emotional every time a notification popped up on your social media accounts, alerting you to the video. All of your friends and acquaintances had, by now, sent this to you and you were sick of it.

Reaching for his phone, Cillian shut off the recording, unable to bear witnessing further humiliation in front of you. The walls of his luxury apartment closed in on him, suffocating in an oppressive shroud of shame.

"My own daughter has seen this and so has my son! Fuck!" Cillian groaned aloud, pacing agitatedly in the room. He turned to you with a look of desperation, his eyes pleading for understanding. Despite your resignation to the fact, your heart went out to him, feeling sympathy and guilt for placing him in this predicament.

"You know you can sue her for this, right?" you suggested hesitantly, clasping his hands softly, trying to offer whatever solace you could provide. Though your intentions were pure, you couldn't help but notice Cillian's reluctance.

"No, this would make things worse, I think," Cillian responded solemnly, running his fingers through his tousled hair in distraction.

A heavy silence settled upon the two of you as reality seeped in – there was no escaping the consequences of this event. No amount of legal action could undo the damage already done.

"Will you at least confront her about it?" you asked, seeing that she had filmed this without his knowledge and then leaked it to the press in spite.

"Yes, I am meeting with her tomorrow. My lawyer has sent her a letter to address the issue privately at first. But legal action? It would just create more publicity which I don't want for Nina's sake," Cillian revealed, looking downward, defeated.

"I understand, Cills and I think that you should tell her exactly how devastating this is for everyone involved, especially your children. Surely, she can see this. You need to be firm," you advised earnestly, trying to impart strength to his weakening spirit. He nodded gratefully, appreciating your support during this challenging period.

"I will be firm Y/N. I promise," Cillian responded resolutely, pulling away from your touch with newfound determination. He needed to maintain composure now more than ever; letting emotions overwhelm him wouldn't serve anyone's best interest. Instead, it required coolness, levelheadedness, and strategizing. The battle was about to begin, and it wasn't one easily won.

Kit, his once trustworthy employee, had betrayed him in the worst possible way.

The very thought made him nauseous. How could she film them doing something so personal and share it with the entire world? The anger boiling inside of him threatened to consume him entirely.

Walking around aimlessly throughout the day, you noticed his turmoil increasing tenfold. Every step he took echoed with uncertainty and doubt; you could sense that something truly dramatic was about to unfold. After hours of deliberation, Cillian finally decided to take matters into his own hands, requesting a change of scenery.

"We should do something nice after I deal with this tomorrow. Just you and me," he suggested, and you smiled faintly, grateful for any respite from this hellish storm. Glancing at his tired features, a wave of protectiveness swept over you. It was essential to stay strong for him, offering moral support where necessary.

"That sounds perfect. We need a break from all this madness," you agreed, smiling warmly at him. As you looked into his weary eyes, you felt a mix of love, admiration, and concern, knowing just how difficult this whole debacle had become for him.

"How about a trip to somewhere like the Maldives? I have never been there, and Dermont reckons it's quite nice. Just you and me on the beach," Cillian proposed with a sparkle in his eye, as though daring you to imagine the possibility.

Your stomach fluttered, excitement building within you at the prospect of exploring such an idyllic destination while, at the same time, you knew that you could not leave Ireland now without risking being denied re-entry upon your return.

Your visa was about to run out and you needed to address this issue before embarking on a vacation.

"Cillian, I would love to go on a holiday with you, but I can't leave the country right now. My student visa expires soon, and I don't know what to do about it just yet. I am working on it though. But, if I leave Ireland now, I can't return without a new visa in place," you explained sheepishly, avoiding his gaze.

His expression shifted instantly, a mixture of disappointment and frustration flashing across his features.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Cillian murmured softly, his eyes filled with understanding and worry.

Flinching momentarily, you admitted to him the difficulties you faced due to your impending immigration issues.

"Well, you've got your birthday coming up. You also have more important things to worry about at the moment and the premieres next month...I didn't want to burden you with my problems. I was just going to sort it out, but it proved to be much more difficult than I had anticipated, " you said and your words trailed off as your shoulders slumped, indicating your defeat.

Cillian wrapped an arm around your waist tenderly, displaying solidarity amidst adversity.

"Listen Y/N, you are my priority! I will ask my lawyer about this tomorrow after dealing with Kit. There must be an option if you want to stay. You may be able to change your visa to another visa or something," he said, and his tone exhibited care and understanding, allowing you to lean on him for support. "You do want to stay here, don't you?" Cillian questioned, wanting affirmation that his plan for staying together wasn't merely wishful thinking.

"Yes, Cillian. Of course I want to stay here. With you. I love you. Despite, Emma is staying in Ireland too. She is moving to Cork soon, and I want to be close to her as well," you expressed sincerely, locking eyes with him to convey your commitment.

His relief was palpable, and he held you closer still, promising to find a solution.

"Good. I am glad. Because there is no fucking way, I will ever let you go again," Cillian proclaimed confidently, taking charge of both situations which were now overshadowing your happiness.

"Dublin is my home now Cillian, so don't worry!" you replied cheerily but, just as you did, a bound of nausea hit you again, forcing you to make a mad dash to the bathroom.

Cillian, worried, followed behind and gently placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, whispering sweet words of encouragement, easing your anxiety somewhat.

He led you towards the bedroom afterwards, sitting beside you carefully, ensuring you felt comfortable enough to discuss the matter openly, thinking that the nausea was the result of your stress levels lately.

Feeling better physically, Cillian reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers lovingly. His eyes searched yours intently, seeking confirmation of your feelings regarding the situation.

"I hate seeing you like this, because of what Kit has done..." Cillian told you, but you interrupted him.

"No, it's not because of this. I am just hormonal. My cycle is all over the place ever since the surgery and I think that this is why I feel sick sometimes, "you tried to explain your condition, hoping that he understood the physical strain it put on you.

Cillian nodded sympathetically, wrapping you tightly in his arms, providing much-needed comfort.

"You should probably see someone about this again," he offered kindly, genuine concern evident in his voice. Your brow furrowed slightly in response, sensing the underlying undertone of concern rather than dismissal.

"I will, once you have dealt with Kit," you conceded, pondering the idea seriously for the first time. Your health had always taken a backseat, considering the recent surgeries and recoveries, coupled with the chaos surrounding the scandal. And perhaps this constant stress wasn't helping either.

"No, let's make sure we prioritise your health," Cillian remarked solemnly, adding weight to the conversation.

"Okay, I will get an appointment scheduled," you promised reluctantly, aware that the stress might eventually cause serious complications. Nevertheless, you couldn't help feeling irritated that these small concerns seemed to dominate most of your life currently.

With an aching heart, you glanced at your lover, acknowledging the gravity of the situation involving Kit and what you suggested next caught Cillian by suprise.

"You know, maybe, we should do something a little bit adventurous. Maybe this will take our minds off this video your crazy ass assistant shared on the internet," you teased playfully, your lips curling into a wicked smile.

"What do you have in mind?" Cillian asked, intrigued, as his eyebrows raised salaciously, a gleam of mischief lighting up his eyes.

"Something kinkier than anything we've done before," you told him before sliding down onto his lap.

"Okay. You have my attention. Tell me what you want to do," Cillian asked eagerly, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

A delicious thrill coursed through your veins as you contemplated the possibilities. The seductive power dynamics between you two made the air thick with sexual energy.

"I want us to explore some boundaries," you began slowly, savoring the taste of the forbidden fruit.

As you breathed heavily, trying to steady yourself against his chest, you continued, "And do things that we haven't even talked about."

Cillian swallowed hard, his breath catching. "Like what?" he ventured hesitantly, a hint of trepidation crossing his face.

You grinned wickedly, running your tongue along your bottom lip.

"Well, you are an actor, aren't you? So, how about some role play?" You suggested coquettishly, letting your imagination run wild with various ideas dancing inside your head.

"I am all ears," Cillian said, his curiosity piqued.

"Well, we could pretend to be strangers meeting for the first time at a hotel. Then we could indulge in our fantasies, testing boundaries in our roles – teacher and student, doctor and patient, maybe even a dominant and submissive scenario," you mentioned, excited by the thought of turning the tables and experiencing each other differently.

"And we will film it, but just for us," you added, causing a wave of nervousness to ripple through him. Cillian hesitated briefly, his mind processing everything rapidly. Finally, he took a deep breath and accepted the challenge.

"I need to buy a camera first," he started, finally breaking the silence that hung heavy in the room.

"Of course," you agreed, smiling warmly. The intensity of the discussion had increased exponentially, and your body burned with desire. It was almost painful to contain yourself, longing to experience the scenarios you discussed. As you kissed passionately, tangled limbs entwined in an erotic dance of pleasure, but your excitement was short lived as, suddenly, the doorbell rang startling you both.

Tags:

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic

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