#and with this i stand by my original statements

[ephemerasnape]

Thanks solely to this lovely comment drawing my attention to it, I've gone back and edited The Dark Sacrifice. It was one of my earlier works and I feel my writing has improved a lot since then.

If you haven't read it, or haven't read it from a long time, give it a read on ao3 or below! It's short, and it's one of my most popular fics.

The Dark Sacrifice 🔞

Sebastian x F!Reader x Ominis

“This might hurt a bit,” Sebastian warns, “but be a good girl and take it. For me, and for Anne.”

Extreme Dubcon | Rape/NC | First Time | Loss of Virginity | Praise | Threesome | Excessive Talking During Sex | No use of Y/N or MC but you are MC

The owl had said to meet Sebastian and Ominis at the Feldcroft Catacomb. Was this going to be the attempt to cure Anne using the dark relic? If so, wouldn’t Anne need to be there as well?

You’ve no idea how Sebastian managed to convince Ominis to participate in this potentially perilous escapade. You can only assume that he’d lied to some degree, which didn’t sit right with you but, well, I'm about to find out, aren't I? Hurriedly throwing on your robes, you exit the Room of Requirement and floo directly to the catacomb, only to find no one waiting for you outside. Anxiety overwhelms you as you look around, desperately searching for any sign of Ominis or Sebastian - and finding none, at first. Then you see them – footprints in the snow leading into the catacomb – two sets. Sighing with relief, you follow, making your way through the dreadful place alone for the very first time.

The catacomb is just as dark, musty, and creepy as you remember, except everything has already been looted and there are no spiders left to attack you. Still, you cautiously make your way through each chamber until you reach the room where you and Sebastian had originally found the relic.

You are relieved to find both boys waiting for you – Sebastian leaning casually against the familiar table, Ominis fretting and pacing as expected. “We can’t do this,” you catch him assert, just before he notices your presence.

“There you are,” Sebastian welcomes, gesturing towards the relic. “All my research has finally borne fruit. I have discovered how to unlock the power of the relic – what is meant by a ‘dark sacrifice,’” he explains.

You approach the boys, Ominis taking a step forward as if to halt your approach. “Sebastian,” he implores. “Please, we can't do this. There has to be another way.”

Maybe you should be concerned, but you're not - you attribute Ominis' statement to his general anxiousness regarding the use of dark magic, not thinking much of his pleas as you continue walking towards where Sebastian stands with the grim object. But you notice something about the room that you hadn’t before – a kind of raised slab in the center, which looks a lot less dirty and worn than everything else in the Catacomb. Sebastian must have conjured it for this purpose.

What does the dark sacrifice entail? Is it awful? Will you need to kill something? An animal? Fortunately, you have a few beasts in your nab-sack if it comes to that, but you sincerely hope it won't. 

“It can’t be helped, Ominis,” Sebastian assures the other boy, turning to face you. Your eyes go wide as you notice his wand trained on you. “There's no other way. I need to do this... for Anne. Imperio!”

Suddenly, your mind goes fuzzy. You watch Sebastian smiling at you, speaking to you as if through a haze. You are confused, but you feel pleasant – so very pleasant.

It’s warm in here, isn’t it? At Sebastian's suggestion, you begin to take off your robes, and then the rest of your garments. Why is Ominis shouting? There's no reason to shout. Everything is exactly as it should be.

“It’s going to be alright,” Sebastian tells you, and you believe him without hesitation as you stand nude in front of the two boys. Sebastian appraises your body with his intense gaze while Ominis has his wand raised, tip glowing red. They are both starting at you, Sebastian's eyes dark with desire. 

“Lay on the altar,” Sebastian commands, taking your hand to help you up onto the stone slab at the center of the room. It's fortunately more comfortable than it looks – he must have used a cushioning charm or something, but you certainly wouldn't mind even if he hadn't.

“What's happening?” you ask, looking blearily from Sebastian to Ominis, who still seems upset.

The brunette takes a step forward. “Shh, darling,” he offers, stroking your hair. “Everything will be alright. I promise.”

An inexperienced but confident hand brushes down your body, over a pert nipple, across your stomach, before coming to rest at the apex of your thighs. “Open for me,” the boy above you says, his eyes clouded with lust. You comply, and slowly, Sebastian sinks one long finger between your folds - hissing at the wetness he finds there. “Merlin,” he exclaims, beginning to stroke up and down the length of your slit. "It should be just... there," he settles on your sensitive little nub, causing you to let out a gasp as he begins to circle. Staring deep into your eyes he asks whether it feels good.

“Oh! Oh, yes, it feels so good, Sebastian,” you groan, the pleasure beyond anything you’ve experienced before, probably due to your completely-relaxed state.

"Sebastian," you hear from slightly to your right, but Sebastian pays Ominis no mind while he continues his attempts to bring you off - to ready you.

“I’m going to make you come for me,” he whispers, a dark edge to his voice as he speeds up the motions on your clit - causing you to thrust your hips forward to try to get more contact.

Suddenly, his head snaps to the side. “Ominis!” he barks, and the blushing blonde looks startled. Grinning slyly, he suggests “Occupy her mouth for me, will you?”

The other boy  - obviously at war with himself, though you can't understand why - hesitates.

This is wrong – so wrong in so many ways – and yet.. his cock throbs in his trousers. Ominis desperately wants your pretty little mouth around his prick. He’s never had a girl do that for him before, and he’s almost ejaculating just thinking about. Not to mention he has secretly wanted you specifically for a long time.

Ominis isn’t sure why he has to participate in this except that Sebastian wants him to. Still, his teenage hormones are raging as he hears every little gasp and moan of pleasure you issue very acutely. While he does at first hesitate, after some moments he approaches. Slowly, he leans forward, and kisses you gently.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Ominis,” Sebastian chuckles. Ominis glares at him (in his own way).

“I know what you meant, you vulgar twit. I just wanted to kiss her.”

“Kiss away,” Sebastian grins in his typical manner, and Ominis does just that, leaning forward to capture your lips again. You groan as his tongue invades every inch of your mouth, and buck desperately into Sebastian’s fingers as they stimulate your clit mercilessly.

“I think she needs your cock in her mouth.” Now it’s Ominis’ turn to groan as he pulls away and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before reaching down to undo his trousers. His other hand resting on your forehead comfortingly, you can hardly imagine a deeper feeling of bliss – that is, until mere moments later, when Ominis has produced his engorged cock and pressed it up against your lips.

“Suck this for me, will you, darling?” he breathes, his voice serpentine and seductive. 

You hear sputtering noises as you eagerly begin to work Ominis’ cock with your mouth. In between pants he gasps out “Good girl! Merlin!” His hips thrust weakly forward as if he desperately wants to fuck your mouth but is holding back. You groan, part of you wanting him to take what he desires from you. Between the two of them, all of your senses are being consumed.

“Come for me, sweetheart," Sebastian urges in a dark whisper.

Your whole body tenses as pleasure curls up and releases inside of you, travelling from the tips of your toes to deep in your pelvis as every part of your body spasms and shakes. It's the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had in your life, and the sounds you make while coming are enough to nearly send Ominis over the edge. “Fuck!” he groans, and begins thrusting his hips in earnest. You don’t notice that Sebastian has withdrawn, apparently gone to retrieve the relic, which he places on your stomach.

It seems brighter somehow, as if it knows what's happening.

“Sebastian.. It’s not right,” Ominis cries, feeling guilty about how tremendously he is enjoying using your mouth and throat. Sebastian chuckles, "And fucking her mouth is?”

The question seems to shut Ominis up, who withdraws from your mouth just as Sebastian is arranging himself between your legs. “This might hurt a bit,” he warns as you feel the warm, blunt head of his flesh nudge your opening, “but be a good girl and take it. For me, and for Anne.”

Suddenly, a flash of pain bursts behind your eyelids as Sebastian drives himself balls-deep inside of you. You whimper a little, but the pain subsides as he begins pumping his thick cock in and out of your pussy, which is very wet from having come already.

“That’s it.. that's a good girl,” he grunts. You groan in pleasure, barely even noticing when Ominis unleashes his semen all over your chest with a howl.

Sebastian continues to rut you, getting more and more caught up in his pleasure. “Good little slut. My slut. Taking my cock like a good little whore.”

As you lay there, being completely debauched by the two wizards - your classmates - you feel high, the world swimming around you, chemicals flooding your brain with pleasure, satisfaction, and ease. You want nothing more than for this to never end – for Sebastian to never stop fucking you.

He laughs when you let him know as much.

“I’m glad to see you so eager," he grunts, "Unfortunately, this has to end sometime, and it’s going to end with me filling you with my seed. Would you like that?”

“Yes!” you cry, scrambling to grab at Sebastian who is keeping a painful distance in order to balance the relic on your belly. “Fill me! Please!” you whine, your back arching as if you’re trying to foist the relic perched on your belly into the heavens.

“Om- Ominis – activate the relic,” Sebastian gasps, his thrusts becoming faster and more erratic.

The other Slytherin taps the macabre pyramid once, twice, three times, before it glows red.

Eyes wide and glued to the relic, Sebastian stills and you can feel his warmth flooding you as he empties himself deep inside. Slowly, he withdraws, panting as he cleans himself off and tucks himself away.

"Can't say I minded that," he quips, reaching down to collect a bit of the mixture of blood and semen that is seeping out of you. You watch in blissful apathy as he holds his finger over your tummy, allowing a single drop to land on the relic.

"The blood of a virgin mixed with the seed of the one who deflowered her. That should be more than enough." The boy grins, taking a look at his handiwork – both the relic, ominously pulsating in his hand, and you, laying there on the slab, looking completely debauched – your face flushed, hair mussed, his cum dripping from your battered pussy, Ominis’ decorating your breasts.

Sebastian can’t help but let out a small groan. “If only you could see this, Ominis..”

But Ominis has turned away. “I've seen enough! Sebastian, I can’t believe what we’ve done. Anne would not have wanted this.”

“Well, if that’s how you really feel about it,” Sebastian muses, withdrawing his wand from his robes. “Obliviate!”

------------

What am I doing here? is all you can think of as you get up from the filthy floor of the Feldcroft Catacomb. Ominis and Sebastian are nowhere in sight.

You anger, your pulse quickening. Why would they have stood me up like this?

Then another thought dawns on you. I’d better go to Feldcroft to check and make sure everything is alright. Maybe Anne has taken a turn for the worse.

Brushing the dirt off of your knees, you notice an odd soreness between your legs. You resolve to stop sleeping in such unsuitable places as you chug a Wiggenweld..

Now to find the boys.

[sapphire-weapon]

Seeing as how I just got two asks back to back trying to claim that I'm being unfair to Leon and that his behavior towards Ada in RE4make is "justified," I figured I'd just make an independent post about it instead of answering two questions that'll have overlapping answers. (And a third one came in as I was writing, even.)

No, I'm not being unfair to Leon, and no, his behavior isn't justified. Leon's being immature in RE4make, straight up.

The way that people talk about this, and the way that Leon acts towards her -- you would think that Ada had been a childhood friend that Leon had known for years, and that she betrayed him at the zero hour and destroyed a lifetime of trust between them.

Ada is some chick that Leon knew for a total of, like, six hours, years ago. And in Remake canon, she makes it very clear to him at the end of RE2make that her lying to him wasn't personal; it was just business.

He's had six years to think about this and compartmentalize it, but he's still taking it so intensely personally that he's being petty. He spends all of RE4make trying to ensure that Ada knows how personal it is, and he digs at her in such a way that it's like he wants her to feel personally hurt in return.

He's being fucking childish.

Especially when you consider that, even if Ada had wanted to reach out to him and let him know she's not dead -- how, exactly, do you propose she do that? Just saunter right on through CIA security and surveillance? Call Leon on a phone that's definitely being tapped and traced? Come the fuck on, man.

It's also not an either/or situation. It's not like the only two options for his attitude towards her are "overtly romantic" or "total cunt." OG RE4 had him be wary of her intentions and suspicious of her motives without being a complete and total asshole about it.

Think about this honestly. If the "she's like a part of me I can't let go" line didn't exist in OG, would you think that his feelings towards her were romantic at all in that game? Because I wouldn't. Half of their interactions are him questioning her or blowing her off.

And this was done with OG Leon knowing that Ada was explicitly working for Wesker. He knows that she's working for Albert Fucking Wesker, and he's still able to pull off being suspicious without being a cunt.

Remake Leon has no idea who she's working for and never, ever has. For all he knows, she could be working for someone who's in the fight against bioterrorism. The last thing he knew about her was that she was a fellow adversary of Umbrella who was getting shot at by Annette Birkin. He has no reason to treat her like a villain outside of his own personal butthurt.

He's just being petty because she hurt his feelings six years ago, and he's refused to grow up and move on since then and, at the very least, treat her with the bare minimum of cold professionalism that she actually deserves. They both establish in their first conversation that they're both here for work. They're doing a job. And he can't get over his personal butthurt enough to be a professional about it.

She makes him look terrible by comparison, because she very clearly does still have feelings for him in RE4make, but she's able to still be an adult and recognize the reality of the situation they're in.

I'm so tired of these takes where people treat Leon like he's a perfect innocent angel baby who did nothing wrong and is right to be mean to the bad lady who hurt him. Leon was a dumbass who got played and hasn't been able to gracefully take the L and move forward in life. That's what actually happened.

Like, damn, man. I know we all love Leon, but he's not always right. He has flaws. And this is one of them. Let him be flawed. And maybe examine things a bit further the next time you want to fully lay the blame for a male character being butthurt at a female character's feet.

[valtsv]

every time i metapost about this podcast it inevitably deteriorates like this

[thyrell]

aaron stated his pronouns were he/him to jounalists and news outlets before his self-immolation. speculating someone else's gender, especially after his death is disrespectful and not your business. even if he went by lilly and used other pronouns, you are essentially trying to out him and disrespecting his wishes. maybe you should do as aaron asked and keep your focus on palestine instead of sending hate to a black trans person on here

im not sending hate to this person, i havent even interacted with him unless those anons were sent by him. i continue to use he/him for aaron bushnell, as per his last public communications, because as per the original post this is about, this is all speculation. i appreciate you coming to me off anon to tell me this, but i want you to think about whether this discussion is genuinely harmful to aaron bushnell's legacy or the palestinian freedom movement as a whole, whether it is just uncomfortable or in poor taste, and most importantly whether it warranted the widespread backlash against trans women on this website that it elicited.

[skaruresonic]

O Great and Powerful Amy Fan Council, please call me a pick-me, it would be so fucking funny

[dw-flagler]

wait for it wait for it wait for it...

THERE IT IS!!!

[demonstars]

you're still here!! i thought we lost you, i'm happy you're here!

YES MIGHT'VE GIVEN THAT IMPRESSION BECAUSE FOR A WHILE I DID INTEND TO LEAVE!!! and then after all was said and done i took time to Reflect and Spoke to friends and decided to stick around For a while even if just to rb and post memes a bit

[msookyspooky]

The way me and the Randy Character AI talked for almost 3 hrs about horror movies 😶

[cherrysnax]

I think it’s rlly interesting when u can tell someone was bullied as a child and instead of working thru that trauma they take that anger and point it at anyone who dares reminds them of it

[strangerthan1]

You know what I hate?

[watsername]

this post was supposed to be a lighthearted post about aspec people by highlighting them in a joking way that still instills positivity and pride in the identity .

unfortunately too many people are too chronically online and media illiterate to realise that so let’s break down the post.

‘shout out to the people not having gay sex this pride month’

this was intentionally a worded to counter the ‘have lots of gay sex this pride month’ jokes and positivity that surround pride discussions. The wording directly associates with anti-queer activity and their frequent attempt to divert attention from queer people during the month of pride. it is worded intentionally. it is supposed to seem counter active to pride .

the humour is then seeing a pride flag. specifically the asexual flag- in which case this stands for an umbrella term across the aspec community which is more recognisable than the variety of aspec flags that i had seen whilst looking for a flag for this post . the grey line of the asexual flag stands for the spectrum between allosexual and asexual it represents the degrees of asexuality and in so, with the purple, stood for the aspec community in this post.

if the joke is still lost on you, the idea was to read a statement that counters the idea of queer pride and find it recontextualised to humorously represent an identity associated with the lack of sexual attraction; ergo no gay sex .

what this post is NOT, is a comment on varied asexual attraction. it us not a commentary on what makes a valid asexual person or whether or not you specifically will have sexual inter course this pride month . it is not saying asexuals are not allowed to have sex . this post is pushing any stereotype of asexuality . op is a sex having aspec person. i am demisexual . i have been with my partner for almost 2 years and engage in sexual activity .

what this post IS, is a joke. it’s a fucking joke i cant make it any clearer. not every single joke is going to relate to your own experiences and that’s ok. not every post about asexuality is going to relate to your own experiences that’s ok. you need to stop taking things at face value and actually engage in some media literacy to understand when something is a reductionist and stereotyping commentary which is inherently negative and when something uses a reductionist approach to convey humour because a lot of you really seem to be struggling with that one.

i fear a lot of you take yourselves too seriously and can’t find the humour in simple tumblr shitposts to the point where i’m having to actually explain what i thought was a very easy concept to grasp because it has upset a lot of people . stop taking everything so seriously .

if you are offended by the original post that is actually a you problem. that is something you have to work on where you cannot accept any form of lighthearted media that does not directly align with your own experiences . bc it’s not serious . it’s a joke x

also allo people can fuck off bc this is literally a post celebrating aspec ppl idc if your gf lives across the country or if you’re just a single loser this literally has nothing to do w u

yall make me want to kms for making me do this

[thewilddreamerrr]

Lit me:

[lightgaswaterelectricityrent]

I'm going to be honest I did play the sims again yesterday and I played it so hard and for so long that I believe that some combination of the sitting and the staring made me physically ill today so I will be abandoning my family forever. hopefully

[yazmarina]

walk me through it

for the love circuit series

—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.

franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases

a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa

Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.

Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.

You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.

This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.

But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.

He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.

"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.

Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"

You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."

"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."

"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.

"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.

You can smell his perfume from where you stand.

"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.

"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."

Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."

"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.

You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.

"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.

The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.

That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.

Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.

So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.

And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.

"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.

"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.

You gulp. Franco smiles.

"Anything is possible this weekend."

-

"You broke the internet last night."

You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.

It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.

Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.

"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."

You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.

But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.

"Hi."

"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.

You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.

"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.

"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.

"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.

"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."

The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.

"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.

"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.

"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.

I will talk to you later.

Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.

-

Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.

P11.

Almost there.

-

"Hi. Come in."

Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.

"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.

Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.

"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.

"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.

Always straight to the point.

Like this morning.

You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.

You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.

Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉

It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.

You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.

Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?

You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.

You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀

It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.

Easy.

"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.

"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.

The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.

You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.

You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.

"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.

Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.

"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.

"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.

You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.

"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.

Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.

"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.

"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.

"Is that your camera?"

You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.

"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.

"Knock yourself out," you say.

Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.

"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.

"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.

You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.

"Just...touch yourself."

You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.

"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."

You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.

The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.

"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.

"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."

Click.

"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"

You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.

"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.

Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.

You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.

Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.

Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.

Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.

It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.

Oh, well.

Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.

Franco. Franco. Franco.

He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.

Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.

"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.

"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.

Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.

Franco chuckles. "Very."

[dalishious]

The Sanitized Lore of Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Tevinter is the heart of slavery in Thedas. This lore has been established in every game, novel, comic, and other extended material in the Dragon Age franchise to date that so much as mentions the nation. But in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, when we are finally able to actually visit this location for the first time… this rampant slavery we’ve heard so much about is nowhere to be found. It’s talked about here and there; Neve mentions The Viper has a history of freeing slaves, as does Rook themselves if they choose the Shadow Dragon faction as their origin, for example. But walking down the streets of Minrathous, you’d never know. Because Dragon Age: The Veilguard, for all its enjoyment otherwise, has one glaring issue: It’s too clean.

The world of Thedas is full of injustices. Humans persecute elves, fear qunari, and belittle dwarves. Mages of any race are treated like caged animals in most places. The nobility is corrupt. Although, Dragon Age has not always handled these injustices well, mind you. Many, many times I’ve found myself frustrated with moments that just feel like a Racism Simulator. But what makes it worth it, is when you can actually do something about it. These injustices are things that a good-aligned character strives to fight back against, maybe even for very personal reasons. Part of the power-fantasy for many minorities is that this fight feels tangible. I cannot arrange the assassination of a corrupt politician in real life, but I sure can get Celene Valmont stabbed to death in Dragon Age: Inquisition, for example. Additionally, these fictional injustices can be used to make statements on real life parallels, like any source of media. For example, no, the Chant of Light is not real, but acting as a stand-in for Catholicism, through a media analysis lens we can explore what the Chant of Light communicates on a figurative level.

When starting Dragon Age: The Veilguard and selecting to play as an elf – this should be unsurprising to anyone who is familiar with my bias towards them – I was fully prepared to enter the streets of Minrathous and immediately get called “knife-ear” or “rabbit”. But this did not happen. I thought perhaps it was just a prologue thing, but returning to Minrathous once again, there was not a single shred of disapproval from any NPC I encountered that wasn’t a generic enemy to fight. And even the generic enemies, the Tevinter Nationalist cult of the Venatori, didn’t seem to care at all that I was a lineage they deemed inferior before now. This is a stark difference from entering the Winter Palace in Dragon Age: Inquisition and immediately getting hit with court disapproval and insults. Are we now to believe that Tevinter has somehow solved its astronomical racism and classism problems in the ten years since the past game? Or perhaps are we to believe all the characters who have demonstrated Tevinter’s systemic discriminatory views were just lying or outliers? Because it makes absolutely no sense at all for this horribly corrupt nation to not have a shred of reactivity to an elven or qunari Rook prancing around. But here were are, and not a single NPC even recognizes my character’s lineage. And because this is so different from every single past game, it feels weird.

As an elf, you have the option to make a comment about how “too many humans look down on us” in one scene early in the game. You can also talk to Bellara and Davrin, the elven companions, about concerns that people won’t trust elves after finding out about the big bad Ancient Evanuris… but this is presented as if elves don’t already face persecution. It’s all so limited in scope that it could be all too easily missed if you are not paying very close attention, and coming into the game with pre-existing lore knowledge.

All this made it easy to first assume that the developers simply over-corrected an attempt to address the Racism Simulator moments. And if that was the case, than I would at least give credit to effort; they did not find the right balance, but they at least tried. However, the sudden lack of discrimination against different lineages in Dragon Age: The Veilguard is not the only sanitized example of lore present.

In Dragon Age: Origins, Zevran Arainai is a companion who is from the Antivan Crows; a group of assassins. He discusses in detail how the Crows buy children and raise them into murder machines through all kinds of torture. The World of Thedas books also describe how the Antivan Crows work, echoing what Zevran says and expanding that of the recruitment, only a select handful of those taken by the Crows even survive. When you start Dragon Age: The Veilguard as an Antivan Crow, you immediately unlock a re-used codex entry from the past, “The Crows and Queen Madrigal”, that says the following:

“His guild has a reputation to uphold. They are ruthless, efficient, and discreet. How would they maintain such notoriety if agents routinely revealed the names of employers with something as "banal" as torture.”

Ruthless, efficient, and discreet. Torture is banal. This is what the Crows were before Dragon Age: The Veilguard decided to take them in a very different direction. The Antivan Crows in this latest game are painted as freedom fighters against the Antaam occupation of Treviso. Teia calls the Crows “patriots”. And while I can certainly believe that the Crows would have enough motivation to fight back against the Antaam, given that it is in direct opposition to their own goals, I cannot understand why they are suddenly suggested to be morally good. They are assassins. They treat their people like tools and murder for money. Even as recent as the Tevinter Nights story Eight Little Talons, it is addressed that the Antivan Crows are in it for the coin and power, with characters like Teia being outliers for wanting to change that. It makes the use of the older codex all the more confusing, as it sets the Antivan Crows up as something they are no longer portrayed as.

I personally think it would have been really interesting to explore a morally corrupt faction in comparison to say, the Shadow Dragons. Perhaps even as a protagonist, address things like the enslavement of “recruits” to make the faction at least somewhat better. (They are still assassins, after all.) Instead, we’re just supposed to ignore everything unsavory about them, I suppose…

We could discuss even further examples. Like how the Lords of Fortune pillage ruins but it’s okay, because they never sell artifacts of cultural importance, supposedly. Or how the only problem with the Templar Order in Tevinter is just the “bad apples” that work with Venatori. I could go on, but I don’t think I have to.

It is because of all this sanitization, that I cannot believe this was simply over-correction on a developmental part. Especially when there is still racism in the game, in other forms. The impression I’m left with feels far deeper than that; it feels corporate. As if a computer ran through the game’s script and got rid of anything with “too much” political substance. The strongest statements are hidden in codex entries, and I almost suspect they had to be snuck in.

Between a Racism Simulator and just ignoring anything bad whatsoever, I believe a balance is achievable; that sweet spot that actually has something to say about what it is presenting. I know it is achievable, because there are a few bright spots of this that I’ve encountered in Dragon Age: The Veilguard too. For example, some of the codex entries like I mentioned, and almost all the content with the Grey Wardens thus far. It is a shame there is not more content on this level.

Dragon Age: The Veilguard is overall still a fun game, in my opinion. But it’s hard to argue that it isn’t missing the grit of its predecessors. The sharp edges have been smoothed. The claws have been removed. The house has been baby-proofed. And for what purpose?

-----

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[drchucktingle]

THE TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION HAVE ISSUED AN APOLOGY AND A RE-INVITATION. HERE IS MY STATEMENT

hello buckaroos. the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION have issued a formal statement and apology which you can read at the attached link.

while i find the language used to discuss what was done a little unsatisfying, i would like to start by saying i appreciate anyone taking steps to prove love is real and make things right. the genuine feeling of ‘realizing you have made a mistake and hurt someone else’ is a terrible one, and i have so much empathy for this group as they reckon with their choices causing harm. i appreciate their apology.

i also think more good than bad has come from this situation. i am so thankful this happened to me (someone with a large social media presence) and not a smaller buckaroo author without the means to stand up for themselves. i think the next time someone comes to the TXLA with an accommodation need, they will hopefully be taken more seriously

lets trot down to business about specifics now. the TXLA has re-invited chuck to the original panel and even offered to take a moment at the top of the panel to talk about what happened. this is very kind of them and i will say THANK YOU. 

unfortunately i will also have to decline.

the fact that it took this much effort, social media backlash, and discussion to let me simply EXIST PHYSICALLY in a way that is authentic to myself is not a good sign. if this organization immediately questions an authors chosen presentation in this manner, i cannot imagine what my other accommodations would be met with.

sometimes i am at an event and i very quickly need extra space to breathe. sometimes i am at an event and i need special guides to help me along from place to place. these are not ‘big asks’ and every other conference has gladly provided them, but if the TXLA had this kind of initial reaction to my physical appearance, i cannot imagine them readily helping with my other needs without ‘proof’.

this is clearly not a safe place to trot for those who require additional accommodations. regardless of any apology, their ACTIONS have shown that people who appear unusual or unique are not welcome at this event on a subconscious level. i believe the TXLA have some serious inner work to do beyond this apology, and i believe this inner work will involve actions more than words.

but even more importantly i would like to make this very important point: IT DOES NOT MATTER IF MY MASK IS A DISABILITY AID OR NOT. i appreciate the way this discussion has allowed us to trot out some deep talks on autism and proved love in this way, but i think there is a much more important point at hand.

regardless of WHAT someone looks like, it is not the job of an event or conference to pick apart WHY. physical presentation can be a part of someones neurodivergence, or gender, or sexuality, but i can also just exist as a nebulous undefined part of their inner self. it can be a piece they are not ready to openly discuss yet. the guests at TXLA are authors (aka ARTISTS) and the idea that a conference dedicated to an ART is going to deny people with unique and unusual presentations for ANY reason is absurd. since when are we applying a ‘dress code’ to our artists?

without knowing it, i personally believe there is an element of the ‘good queer, bad queer’ phenomenon going on here. there is a push to say ‘LOOK we accept these marginalized groups and cultures’ but behind the scenes that means ‘we accept these marginalized groups and cultures who are quiet and speak in turn and wear the metaphorical suit and tie’. it is easy to show diversity when you only take on the voices that arent too ‘strange’.

to prove my point i ask you this: do you think orville peck would have FOR ONE SECOND been asked to perform at the texas library association event without his mask?

so with that i say ‘very sincerely, thank you, but i will have to decline the re-invitation. maybe next year’