#but i think they are valuable and useful to read

[purlturtle]

okay, so.

I am in a profession in which feedback is THE single most valuable and common tool I use. Daily, weekly, monthly, for DECADES.

And I can tell y'all one thing that might surprise you, especially if you think that leaving *unsolocited* concrit is okay simply by virtue of the fic being posted publicly:

Feedback takes two people to be effective, the giver AND the recipient.

Read that again, then read it THE FUCK again. You can give feedback all you want; if the recipient doesn't want it, hasn't asked for it, isn't ready or willing to hear it-

IT WILL NOT LAND.

Not only will it, at best, puff into nothingness - at worst it will bother the recipient (who, to reiterate, never asked for it) so much that they will never write again. This has happened before and will happen again; this is not hyperbole. And for this it matters not one bit how "well you put" your feedback, it DOES NOT MATTER if the recipient isn't on board with receiving feedback.

Your unsolicited feedback is a nothingburger AT BEST, neighbor. At worst it is a dirty bomb that will poison and destroy a person's entire joy at their hobby. If your goal *truly* is to help someone improve, *unsolicited*, *public* feedback is NOT the way to go.

hey just for the record, if you’re on r/ao3 and keep running into these kinds of comments on bookmark related posts — it’s not a good take. calling someone’s writing “slop” and saying it deserves criticism for being bad BECAUSE it’s posted publicly might seem like a nuanced take, but I promise it isn’t.

yes, sometimes us writers get a little too obsessed over a cryptic comment or bookmark; no, that doesn’t actually mean the solution is to say whatever you want in them because authors “deserve” your honesty. 

I know we’re in a touchy time for readers and writers, but comments like these are NOT kind, refreshing, or nuanced. they’re just kind of mean and discouraging.

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

If you could write Raphael in as a companion, how would be be recruited? What would his approvals/dissaprovals be? What is his personal quest? Would he be romancable?

That's alot of questions!

Ok settle in because this is going to be a big read. I put way more thought into this than I should have lol

Disclaimer: Obviously this isn't going to align with canon and will require a disregard for most of the story beats involving Raphael as an NPC, like the entire House of Hope quest. This is just a fun little "what if" and isn't to be taken seriously.

Recruiting Raphael:

He will find you. Either one night in camp or in one of many spawn triggers on the map in the wilds. His conversation about the tadpole and offering his deal will be mostly the same. In order to recruit him, you must express interest in the deal. Either by agreeing right away, or saying you'll consider it. Raphael's responses are basically all the same even if you agree to the deal, he won't actually make you sign a contract. He'll tell you to "shop around".

Then, you must ask "if I do want to take this deal, where would I find you?"

Raphael's response will be something along the lines of:

"I'll be around. In fact, maybe I could join you in this little misadventure. I'll lounge about in your camp while you run around looking for answers. I could offer sage advice, experience, or even be a confidant."

DIALOGUE TREE:

"If you'd like to join us, by all means. We could use all the help we can get."  ←

"No, no way."

"Why would you want to run around with a bunch of mortals like us?"

"Fine, but I'll be keeping an eye on you."

"It's settled then, I'm sure I will be a very valuable asset. This is going to be fun."

"If you'd like to join us, by all means"

"No, no way." ←

"Why would you want to run around with a bunch of mortals like us?"

"Fine, but I'll be keeping an eye on you"

"As you wish. You'll change your mind. Of that, I am certain. And at that time. It will be too late. Best of luck."

The party will be transported back to camp/where Raphael spawned.

"If you'd like to join us, by all means"

"No, no way."

"Why would you want to run around with a bunch of mortals like us?" ←

"Fine, but I'll be keeping an eye on you"

"There's something about you that I find fascinating. I think it would be to our mutual benefit, should I join your merry little band." (back to dialogue tree)

"If you'd like to join us, by all means"

"No, no way."

"Why would you want to run around with a bunch of mortals like us?"

"Fine, but I'll be keeping an eye on you" ←

"Oh, I am counting on it. I'll be keeping mine, on you. I'll see you soon."

All dialogues except the outright refusal will result in the party being teleported back to the spawn, or back to camp, where Raphael will be waiting.

If you refuse to recruit Raphael, he will be seen again at Last Light, talking to Mol. You only get that once chance though to recruit him. After that, he operates similarly as he does in game as an NPC for Astarion's personal quest. He will be present again in act III in The Devils Den as set dressing for Sharess' Caress. In which case you can talk to him about what he's doing there. He will say he's just enjoying the show, watching the group run around trying to save themselves. You can ask if he would still join the group, at which he will laugh and say.

"Oh no my dear, that ship sailed long ago. Now, I'm just here to witness the carnage, and benefit from all this tragedy."

If you do let him join, he will remain in camp for all of act I and act as a giver of advice/merchant for rare items. He accepts soul coins as currency. In act II, he will leave for a few long rests to get information regarding Astarion's scars, once that event is triggered.

If Raphael does join the party, you will need to do a skill check to keep both Wyll and Karlach. If you fail to convince them to stay, they will leave the party or even become hostile, by some dialogues.

Raphael's Personal Quest:

His personal quest will align with his desires in the base game. He will have much to say that provides context to certain story beats he was previously involved in. Such as the Shar stronghold in the Underdark. If Halsin is not alive, Raphael can be a means to get information regarding Moonrise, the shadow curse, and the Shar stronghold. He will not have a romance scene at the party. Though much flirting can be exchanged and you can choose to think about him as you go to rest for the night.

The first thing he will ask you to do is help him kill Yurgir in The Shadowlands. If you do kill Yurgir, he will help Astarion with his scars. If you don't he will greatly disapprove and you will need to "convince" him to stay. He's messing with you. The skill checks don't actually matter, though they will have different dialogue responses depending on success/failure, and start the player off on lower approval than if you did kill the orthon. Though if you do refuse to kill Yurgir, his romance arc is locked and you cannot romance him later.

This is when he will officially join the party. I think he'd be a bard, so that's what his class is in this little "what if".

His personal quest then involves the crown of Karsus in act III. His arc will include "Archdevil Supreme" or convincing him to give up the crown. With resulting romance/platonic cutscenes for both.

Approvals:

Prioritising yourselves over the problems of others.

Agreeing to help others, for a price.

Exploiting people.

Anything he finds entertaining, like interrupting the bugbear and ogre.

Disapprovals:

Being kind/taking on quests for nothing in return.

Siding with the Absolute cult.

Using illithid powers.

Raphael Romance:

This is a tricky one. I think his romance would be mostly backloaded and starts in act II. If you talk with him at the party and express interest, you two can exchange some steamy words as he recites a poem he wrote for you. You can then either laugh at him and reject his advances, or say you like his way with words. He will then express a very primal interest in you, and say it's best if he let it fester a while. He wants to string you along a little. His greetings won't change, and there won't really be anything to indicate that the dating flag has been set. But if you flirt with him and express your own interest, it will be flagged. You will also have the option to tell him you just don't see him in that way, that you prefer to keep the relationship 'professional'.

In act II, (if you expressed interest previously) after you kill Yurgir, and Raphael joins the party officially. Raphael will have started off with more approval than the other companions, if the romance dialogues were met in act I and you asked him questions about himself/expressed gratitude for his advice when speaking with him in camp. If his approval is lower, you will have chances to get it up around the shadowlands. After approval is high enough, he will approach you and say he has enjoyed his time with you with an odd amount of sincerity. He will say he sees the potential in you and what you and him can accomplish together. That he has been watching the way you lead and handle yourself. And that, oddly enough, he has admiration for you. (side note, there would probably be more dialogue if the player is a dark urge/raided the grove. But I don't have enough brain juice for that currently.)

DIALOGUE TREE (there's lead up of course but I can't be bothered lol so here's the lock in dialogue):

"I spend most of my time categorising people by what use they have to me. And you have proven yourself very useful. But there's something else. Something I haven't experienced in another person for...A long time. I have grown quite fond of you, you know- in my way. Unexpected, but not repulsive. I very much enjoy you and your company."

What are you saying? ←

So I've just been your pawn this entire time?

I'm quite fond of you as well, I'm sure you know that.

I'm sorry but, I just don't feel the same way.

If I wanted to bed with a fiend, I would summon an incubus. Not some pompous arsehole.

"I'm saying, I would like to be something more. Something other than the professional relationship between future client and patron. I would like you to be my paramour, my flame, my right hand. I would like to discuss my plans with you, and lie with you at night."

What are you saying?

So I've just been your pawn this entire time? ←

I'm quite fond of you as well, I'm sure you know that.

I'm sorry but, I just don't feel the same way.

If I wanted to bed with a fiend, I would summon an incubus. Not some pompous arsehole.

*laughs* "Well, yes. I thought that was obvious, dear. But I would like to be something more than that. You have impressed me in many ways. You're ruthless, you're determined, and most of all, you seem to also be interested in me. I would like you to be my paramour. My right hand. Someone to discuss my plans with, and lie with at night."

What are you saying?

So I've just been your pawn this entire time?

I'm quite fond of you as well, I'm sure you know that. ←

I'm sorry but, I just don't feel the same way.

If I wanted to bed with a fiend, I would summon an incubus. Not some pompous arsehole.

"You've made it quite obvious, my dear. I'm flattered, really. But if flattery is not the limit of your intentions, I would very much like to explore something more. I would like you to be my paramour. My right hand. Someone to discuss my plans with, and lie with at night."

What are you saying?

So I've just been your pawn this entire time?

I'm quite fond of you as well, I'm sure you know that.

I'm sorry but, I just don't feel the same way. ←

If I wanted to bed with a fiend, I would summon an incubus. Not some pompous arsehole.

"How interesting. I was sure- No matter. If that is how you feel, that is how it is. I may have overestimated you. That's it then, no more has to be said. Have a wonderful evening, dear."

What are you saying?

So I've just been your pawn this entire time?

I'm quite fond of you as well, I'm sure you know that.

I'm sorry but, I just don't feel the same way.

If I wanted to bed with a fiend, I would summon an incubus. Not some pompous arsehole. ←

*laughs* "Well well, I seems to me that I have given you entirely too much credit. So be it. You will continue to be my puppet, and I will continue to enjoy watching you squirm for your worthness, pathetic life."

Every option besides the rejection one has that similar dialogue. If you agree to the romance, being the one he lies with, he will smile and take the players hand to kiss the back of it. Raphael will then snap his fingers and the two will be transported to a very cozy room with candles and a very large bed. After some more dialogue, the player can choose to have sex with Raphael in either his human or cambion form. Maybe I'll write that section in more detail in a smut or something but for now just use your imagination lol

In act III, Raphael will express a similar interest in the crown of Karsus as Gale does. His iconic monologue about Karsus will still exist. You can either encourage this in a similar fashion, or convince him that uniting the hells would be an impossible task and a death sentence. If you go Archdevil Supreme route, Raphael will become the ruler of the nine hells and you will live there with him as his infernal spouse. He will be loving but distant, and busy. Running all nine hells takes alot of work. The player will want for nothing though. They will have access to every outlet of pleasure and luxury possible. The player will also go through a subtle but apparent transformation to be a little more fiendish, so they can tolerate the environment of the hells. If convinced to give up the crown, he will continue as he is. He will go from between the House of Hope and wherever the player is. He will spoil the player as much as he can and visit often. Sometimes the player will visit him as well. But they still lead their own lives.

I'm sure I could refine the romance arc but I think these are good bones for now.

Thank you for the question! I spent like three days thinking about this lmao.

[little-wicked10]

Smell so Sweet🍑

Summary: Soldier Boy’s powers make it easy for him to read people’s physical reactions. He happens to pick up on the fact that every time she’s around Butcher and himself, she gets REALLY horny.

Warnings: PORN WITH NO PLOT🥵🔞, cursing, dirty talk, degrading, daddy kink, subspace, drug use, multiple orgasms, anal, creampies (what kind? Yes)

Notes: reader is called Peach because I’m uncreative like that🤷‍♀️ Thanks for voting for this on my poll!

//

Learning to control his supe powers and senses had taken Soldier Boy years. They were long, grueling, painful few years, but the payoff was a harmony he hadn’t known until his powers worked with him instead of against. If he concentrated hard enough, he could pin point everyone down to their sound and scent.

The cum guzzler, Hughie, had a heart beat like a rabbit most of the time and smelled of some kind of obnoxious sprayed on odor mixed with something that reminded him of a bologna sandwich. Weak.

Butcher’s heart rate was all over the place, slow one minute and erratic and panicked the next. Past the cigarette and alcohol smell, the Brit had a strong manly scent that he could only compare to himself. It had a different musk than his own, but it gave off the same feeling. Strong.

Then there was her.

She drove him crazy. He chased after the smell of her sweet perfume mixed with her naturally sweet smelling skin. She smelled like goddamn peaches and cream. So sweet.

He could pick up on hormone changes in women the easiest for some odd reason, and hers were his favorite to fill his senses with. So, it was easy to discover her little secret.

//

The first time Soldier Boy picked up on it was the day he met her. She stood to Butcher’s right, and he could already smell her attraction to the cockney asshole. It wasn’t as strong as he thought it be, probably because she had learned to control it around him, but it suddenly got stronger when her eyes landed on him. Sharp eyes saw her pupils dilate and her rapid heart beat pounded in his ears.

“And uh…who’s the broad?” Soldier Boy smirked at her.

“She’s a valuable memba’ of the team, mate,” Butcher placed a hand on the small of her back, her hormones went wild at the contact, “She’ll be lookin’ after ya while Hughie and I track down the last few membas of Payback for ya.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, okay?” he snapped his eyes to Butcher, “I think I know how to fuckin’ lay low.”

“Well, guv, she knows her way ‘round ‘ere and can get ya whateva’ ya need,” Butcher pointed out, “She’ll help ya out, keep ya company while the lad and I chase some of these leads.”

Solider Boy turned his smirk back to her, “You alright with this, sweetheart? I can be quite a handful.”

He sensed her answer before she told him, “Yeah, I’m fine with this. Rather hang out here than watch Hughie’s teleporting junk.”

//

“Ya know she wants to fuck you, right?” Soldier Boy casually mentioned to Butcher one night.

Butcher chuckled, “Yeah. I seen those fuck me eyes she tries ‘idin’.”

“Bet with that shit you’re shootin’ up, you can smell what I smell,” Soldier Boy quirked his eyebrows up with a devious smirk.

“Fuuuuck she smells sweet, don’ she?” Butcher groaned, “You eva’ ‘eard ‘er late at night’? Ugh. W’at I wouldn’ give ta see those wet dreams.”

The two for them sat outside smoking on the motel on the balcony. Soldier Boy inhaled sharply before passing it, “You ever smell her when we’re both in the room?”

The Brit began to chuckle as he took the burning joint, “Picked up on that righ’ quick.”

A groan left the other man, “Smells like the ripest fuckin’ peach you’ll ever fuckin’ taste.”

The two sat in silence, the same idea passing through their minds.

//

She was curled up on the motel couch when Butcher returned without Hughie. Even through the line of bennies he’d just snorted, Ben’s nose filled with the smell of peaches as her two favorite people were in the same room. Butcher glanced over at the supe, inhaling deeply before disguising it as a sigh.

“Hey Peach,” he called.

She perked up at the nickname and looked over at him. It was a mystery to her why she’d been bestowed the name, but she didn’t really look too much into it.

“Hand me that bottle o’ whiskey. I’m out over here,” Ben commanded.

She rolled her eyes before sarcastically saying, “Oh yes sir! Need anything else?”

Both men felt her reply go straight to their dicks. From the motel table, they watched her grab the full bottle from the coffee table and walk towards them. If she paid a lick of attention, she’d have noticed the way they eyed her head to toe. “Sit with us, love. I could use the comp’ny,” Butcher offered as he kicked one of the chairs out. She sat down, watching as Ben crushed more pills with the hilt of his Bowie knife.

“Soldier Boy ‘ere givin’ ya any trouble?” Butcher asked sternly.

“When he’s not bossing me around, he’s not too bad,” she replied with a roll of her eyes, “I’d have a bigger problem if he wasn’t sharing his weed.”

Ben chuckled as he used his blade to make little lines, “Thought pretty girls like you liked bein’ told what to do?”

They noticed her cheeks flush a bit and smelled her hormones skyrocket. Butcher started bouncing his leg impatiently the deeper her scent filled his mind like a fog.

“Experience says they sho’ do,” Butcher chuckled.

She picked up a joint and lighter off the table, “Only by the ones I call daddy.”

Butcher practically barked when he laughed, “Well, well, well. Dirty lil’ bird you are.”

She lit the joint and took a deep drag, both men watching her chest rise and fall. Ben waited until she exhaled the smoke from her pretty lips before speaking again, “Dirty girls and clean lines, that’s my motto. If you think I can snort, you should see me eat.”

He smirked at the blush that seemed to be there permanently whenever they were around.

“Ain’t that just the cutest lil’ blush ya ever did see,” Butcher teased with a smirk playing at his lips.

It was then that Ben decided to reveal the elephant in the room, “Ya know we can smell how turned on we make you, right?”

Both were amused as she choked while exhaling.

“C’mon, Peach. You really think I wouldn’t pick up on it? I’m fuckin’ Solider Boy,” Ben chuckled as he set his knife on the table, “And, Butcher’s been shootin’ up enough of that green shit to know what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Let me tell ya, Peach,” the way the word rolled off his tongue with his thick accent should have been wrong, “That’s exactly w’at ya smell like. Peaches and fuckin’ cream with a lil’ bit of sugar sprinkled ova’ the top. Me mouth starts waterin’ an’ me bollocks achin’ every time I step through that door and smell w’at’s permeating from between them luscious thighs.”

She subconsciously crossed her legs, feeling their eyes dart to the action.

“I bet she tastes just as sweet,” Ben leaned back in his chair, “What ya wanna bet, Butcher?”

The man was leisurely stretched out in his chair as his dark stare never left her body, “No doubt, guv. Ya don’ smell like that and not taste just as sweet. But…betta’ to find out. Care if I ‘ave the first go?”

“Be my guest,” Ben quickly replied.

The fact that they were talking about her in front of her as if she wasn’t there was a huge turn on. Like she was too dumb to join their conversation about tasting her cunt. Butcher suddenly slid off his chair to his knees, crawling towards her to kneel before her crossed legs. His rough hands started at her ankles before delicately traveling up her calf, over her knees, hooking his hands in the crease of her thighs and yanking them open. A gasp fell from her lips as her legs were spread and Butcher made his bulky self at home, large hands clasping around her hips with a lazy smirk on his face.

“Gooood-damnit! That’s potent shit,” Ben growled, throwing his head back.

“Lift ya hips, love. Daddy’s dyin’ of thirst. Ain’t that a cryin’ shame?” he asked her as he dug his fingers into the waist band of her shorts.

She held herself up, biting her lip and nodding as her face burned.

Butcher couldn’t help his chuckle when he shimmied her shorts and panties off, “An’ the only thing that can quench this mighty thirst of mine is drippin’ out of yer pretty cunt.”

Breathing suddenly became hard when his cocky smile lowered between her legs. One hand gripped the edge of the wooden chair while the other gripped his black hair. The position was awkward until her legs were thrown over his broad shoulders, and he yanked her closer to the edge of the chair. There was no warning as Butcher dove in. A strangled moan left her throat as his whole mouth devoured her from clit to slit, chasing every drop of her sweet honey to places that hadn’t been explored.

She cried out loud when he suddenly let loose a deep growl that vibrated against her folds, strong arms wrapping tighter around her thighs to shove his face deeper. He could fucking drown like this. They sounded like two animals. She whimpered and whined in a high pitch, pornographic manner. Butcher grunted and groaned like a rutting beast. Ben sat back with a joint in his mouth and hand on his dick. Her scent filled the room now.

Ben admired the way her little toes curled when Butcher made her cum, “Butcher’s a greedy son of a bitch, but, what else is new?”

Both her hands were dug deep into his hair now as her hips attempted to roll towards his mouth. Ben suddenly stood up, exhaling smoke as he strode towards the two. He stood next to her, his hips level with her head, holding out the joint towards her ‘o’ shaped mouth.

“Wrap your lips around it. Think you deserve a lil’ puff after that last one,” the supe encouraged.

Her eyes popped open and stared into mischievous green ones before flicking down to his hand. With a shaky breath, she wrapped her lips around it and inhaled.

“There ya go, doll. Nice long drag. Don’t make her choke yet, Butcher,” Ben complimented.

The supe pulled the joint from her lips with a satisfied smirk as he watched her hold the smoke in her lungs before exhaling. The exhale turned into a broken whine as Butcher built her up to another orgasm.

“You wanna a go, mate?” Butcher reluctantly pulled away as she cried in protest.

“Fuck yeah, I do. Move over,” Ben shoved the other man’s shoulder.

The Brit backed away and stood up as Ben made room for himself. Just like the previous man between her legs, no time was wasted. No one could ever accuse these two men of being inefficient. Butcher took a seat at the table again as Ben had his fill. The second his tongue met her folds, he growled and shook his head.

“Why not give ‘er lil’ arsehole a tickle? I know I did,” Butcher smirk could only be described as cheeky, “Tell Soldier Boy how much you liked havin’ yer arsehole tongue fucked.”

A desperate cry left her lips, “I-I loved it!”

“Try again,” Ben slapped her pussy making her squeal.

“Butcher’s tongue in my ass felt so, so good!” she cried, “I was about to cum again when he took it out.”

Ben cooed, “See, Butcher, if you would just keep your damn mouth shut and do the job, you’d have a higher success rate.”

“Oi, cut the supe shite. I was nice enough to offa’ up a taste before she started pushin’ me head away. That lil’ cunt was flutterin’ away when me tongue was shoved up ‘er arse, made the job much easier for ya,” Butcher barked back.

“Oh my god! Please! Someone put me out of my fuckin’ misery!” her desperate whine interrupted.

Ben slapped her pussy harder, “Sassy lil’ thing.”

“Ya got no idea, mate,” Butcher took a hit.

Ben brought his mouth down to suck harshly at her clit. Two of his thick fingers shoved inside of her making her scream. Butcher admired her toes curling in the air and her fingers desperately grasping Ben’s brown hair.

“O-oh, Ben!” she whimpered as his finger teased against her other hole.

Ben growled as he roughly held her still, dipping his fingers into her cunt then dragging the wetness down to play with that forbidden little entrance. It was when he shoved his tongue inside her weeping cunt and nudged the tip of his finger into her ass that she let out a strangled moan, cunt clenching and gushing.

Butcher inhaled deeply with a growl, “Fuckin’ ‘ell! Toss ‘er on the bed.”

The supe sat up, wiping his mouth and beard before jerking her up like she weighed nothing. Both men strode towards the bed before she was thrown half hazardously onto it. Ben was quick to yank her shirt off as Butcher started unbuttoning his own. Her eyes looked up at them like a powerless doe at the mercy of the wolves. Her body already hummed from her first two orgasms, but she craved more. She rubbed her thighs together as her cunt throbbed uncontrollably.

Ben grabbed one of her ankles to throw her legs open, “That’s the last time I wanna see those legs closed.”

She felt a gush of arousal at his command, “Y-yes sir.”

“Gonna need ya to stay niiiice an’ spread out for us, Peach,” Butcher had the audacity to wink as he jerked her other leg open, “Might ‘ave a ‘ard time gettin’ her to keep’em closed after this.”

Her blush would have been from embarrassment if they hadn’t already dove head first into her cunt and asshole. There were still sparks of insecurity that crossed her features as she lay with her legs spread wide open, but they’d fuck that right out of her. Butcher was the first to move, rounding the bed to sit behind her. With a grunt, he maneuvered her around to be on all fours.

“Give daddy a lil’ nosh while Soldier Boy opens up your pretty holes, yeah?” Butcher grinned as he gathered her hair in his hand.

She watched with wide eyes as Butcher made her watch him jerk his belt and fly open with a free hand. The bed dipped behind her as Ben roughly spread apart her ass. Her mouth watered at the size of Butcher’s thick length, straining against his hold to reach down and pleasure him. Butcher’s dark chuckle didn’t distract her from staring. When he brought her head down to wrap her lips around his tip, Ben shoved his fingers inside her cunt while circling over her asshole.

The back of Butcher’s head slammed against the headboard as the woman enthusiastically sucked him off, “Bloody…fuckin’ ‘ell! Like a goddamn hoova’.”

“I love a bitch that gets off on suckin’ dick,” Ben groaned.

The way the men laughed at her eagerness should have made her feel ashamed, or even mad, but it just turned her on even more. It made her push her hips back into Ben’s hands and her tongue stroke Butcher’s length with the need to keep them talking. Keep degrading her and using her until her body gave out. She whimpered when she heard and felt Ben roughly spit on her asshole before he inched a finger inside to the knuckle. The burn was foreign while pleasurable. Her body didn’t know whether to lean in or away from it.

Ben’s eyes were dark with lust as he enjoyed the sweet torture they were putting her through. It motivated him to be a little crueler in how he handled her. When her hips tried to pull away from him burying his finger more inside her, his other hand roughly left her cunt to hold her hip and keep her in place, “Nah, doll. No runnin’. Take it like a good lil’ trooper.”

If Butcher wasn’t getting his soul sucked out, he would have rolled his eyes at the supe. He looked down at her sucking his dick like it was the best tasting thing she’d had in her life. He loved desperate whores. He hadn’t realized how desperate she was until that Temp V shit got his senses heightened enough to hear a mouse queef. His eyes went wide when she suddenly pulled off of him and let her tongue lazily lick over his balls while her hand stroked his dick.

“A-ah shit,” Butcher shivered as she wrapped her lips around it, “You diabolical slut! Noshin’ on me fuckin’ bollocks!”

“Damn, she’s tight. I’ll stretch that out no problem,” Ben’s smirk was dark.

“Not before I do,” Butcher groaned as the sound of her sucking and slurping on him filled the room.

She suddenly pulled off of Butcher and glanced up at him, a shy but mischievous look in her eyes, “I want you both inside me. Please.”

Butcher suddenly leaned forward, holding her head closer to his face, “Louder, peach. Don’ fink Soldier Boy ‘ere ‘eard ya.”

She whined, but repeated, “I want you both inside me! Please!”

Both men chuckled, Ben spanking her made her cry out and jerk forward closer to Butcher’s face. A shaky gasp passed her lips when Ben pulled his finger from inside her, “Ya want us to just shove our dicks in there? Stretch you out ‘till you’re a cryin’ and snivelin’ slut?”

A whine left her throat, “Y-Yes! Ruin me!”

“Oof, ya hear that, mate? Don’ you worry, peach. You are neva’ gonna forget w’at we’re gonna do to ya,” Butcher’s breath smelled of weed as he chuckled in her face.

She squealed when Ben smacked her wet pussy before stepping away. Butcher pet her hair affectionately before ordering her to straddle him. She was so turned on she was trembling as she waited for him to kick his boots and jeans off. When he was finally naked like her, she crawled into the man’s lap, knees settling on either side of his hips. A moan slipped past her swollen lips when his callused hands pawed at the meat of her ass. Butcher looked down to watch her hips slide along his length, teasing them both. “Please! Please, daddy!” she babbled.

“That beggin’ is so pretty. Keep doin’ it,” Butcher slurred.

“Please, daddy! It hurts!”

Ben chuckled, “Where’s it hurt, baby? Gotta tell him, or he can’t fix it.”

Butcher held her hips still making her cry out. Her nails dug into his shoulders, “I-I need y-you inside! Aches inside, daddy.”

The Brit chuckled with a smirk as he urged her to hover over him, grasping his cock in hand to notch the tip to her entrance. His smirk turned to a smile as she struggled to sink down. “Aww, poor peach. Daddy too big for ya?” he teased.

She whimpered and squirmed to take more, “Need more. F-Fuck I….please!”

Ben’s strong hand on her shoulder pushed her down. Neither man could look away until she was fully sat in Butcher’s lap. He was careful not to grip her too hard, but holy shit was she tight! Butcher growled feeling her walls pulse around him. If he were a younger man with less self control, he would have busted right then. Her arms frantically wrapped around Butcher’s neck as she cried and whimpered. He nuzzled his beard and lips against her chest, sucking marks into the delicate skin of her breasts.

The air was knocked out of her when his hips thrust up into hers. Burly arms wrapped around her body before he started moving her body along his. “F-Fuckin’ ‘ell! That’s it!” Butcher groaned as he looked up at her. When he noticed a few tears wetting her cheeks, he gently kissed them away, “Too much for ya already, peach? Ol’ Soldier Boy hasn’t even ‘ad ‘is turn yet.” She frantically shook her head, and she heard Ben chuckle from the side of the bed. Suddenly, she was rolled onto her back with her legs wrapped around the man’s waist. Butcher sat up, grasping her hips in his large hands, before starting a brutal pace.

She moaned and gasped, clawing at his wrists and throwing her head back. Every thrust had her gushing around him, and he refused to relent until she was on the verge of falling apart. The coil kept tightening in her belly with every thrust against her sweet spot. A strangled cry came from her throat when his callused thumb strummed her clit causing it to snap. She gushed around Butcher’s cock, the man’s hips faltering to keep him from cumming with her. “Fu-uckin’ ‘ell, peach! Bring’a man to ‘is bloody fuckin’ knees, why don’ ya?” Butcher growled as he dug his blunt nails into the skin on her hips.

Ben suddenly huffed, “C’mon, I ain’t had a piece of ass this fine in decades.”

The other man rolled his eyes and panted as he slowly eased out of her quivering walls, “‘ow long ya gonna keep milkin’ that one, guv?”

She whined when Butcher was no longer inside her, but it didn’t take long for Ben to take his place. The supe pounced on her, throwing her shaking legs over his shoulders and sheathing his full length inside her. She screamed and grabbed onto the shitty headboard rails for dear life. He gave a dark chuckle as he started an unforgiving pace, “Hold on tight, baby. Let’s show Butch how a real supe fucks.”

Butcher rolled his eyes as he relit the forgotten joint. Cocky bastard. Honestly, they both were which explained why they butt heads. Ben fucked hard and powerful, slow at first but quickly picked up when he found the spot that made her gasp the loudest. Her body began to shake, the familiar sensation flooding her nerve endings. Her body instinctively tried to pull away from his harsh attack, but the bruising grip on her hips kept her in place. Ben laughed at her pathetic whining, “What I say about runnin’?”

“P-P-Please,” she whimpered pathetically, “Ca-Can’t!”

“Thought you wanted us to ruin you, honey?” the supe taunted as he snatched the joint from Butcher at the side of the bed, “You’re so, so close. Think I’ll make ya squirt more than Billy Boy?”

Butcher growled, “Shoulda kept ya in the bloomin’ freezer.”

“Can’t handle a lil’ competition, Butch?” Ben chuckled as he puffed and fucked.

It was the sudden gushing around his cock that brought his attention back to the fucked out woman. “Oh shit!” he groaned as he looked down to see her little cunt leaking and struggling to push him out. She lightly convulsed, euphoria having wracked her body like a shock of lightening. The sounds of the men both taunting and praising her were muffled. She’d never been fucked like this before. Used like a battle ground between two alphas trying to out do the other. The thought of both of them fighting at the same time made her heavy body squirm.

“Wonda’ w’at she’s finkin’ to get her to wigglin’?” Butcher slurred.

“Same thing I’m thinkin’ about,” Ben said as he swiftly slid out of her sensitive walls.

In her haze, she felt her body being moved, repositioned until she lay on her stomach over a strong, broad body. She lifted her head to look into Butcher’s dark eyes. His callused hands ran along her back, sides, and hips, enjoying the way her body was melted against his. The man quirked a brow when he noticed her staring intensely at his lips. How could he refuse the earnest and pleading look in her eyes? He thread his fingers through her hair and brought her lips to his. She moaned into his dominant kiss, thighs tightening around his waist and arms wrapping around his neck. A satisfied sound left her throat when Butcher effortlessly slipped into her abused cunt again. His hips started a lazy rhythm as their lips and tongues danced together.

The bed dipped at the bottom as a bottle popping open cut through the wet sounds. A small squeak stuck in her throat when the feeling of cool lube dripped against her asshole. Her previous four orgasms made it impossible for her to tense up beyond holding on to Butcher. “Nice n’ easy, peach. There’s a good girl,” Butcher mumbled into her lips as Ben angled her hips up more. A shiver rolled down her spine when she felt him slap his still hard cock against her asshole.

She cried out when he pushed just the tip inside, the pain of the stretch shocking. Ben held one ass cheek in hand while his other hand ran up her spine. “I’m just gonna slip right in, peaches,” Ben groaned as he inched forward, “Stay still. Let me in. Theeere we go.”

Full. That was how to describe how it felt. Full and overwhelming. She swore she could feel them in her throat. A strangled moan burst from her throat before turning into a cry. Her forehead pressed into Butcher’s neck as her body processed the new feeling. The man behind her leant over and sunk his teeth into her shoulder as his hips slowly drew back then pushed forward. Each stroke elicited a whine from her lips, but she didn’t tense, she didn’t wiggle away, her body and mind were too fucked out to allow her to try and escape. She wanted this. She needed this. She needed them to ruin her.

Butcher picked up on her comfort and began to work in tandem with the other man. When one thrust pushed in, the other pulled out, creating an insane back and forth rhythm. She could feel every vein and ridge rubbing against her walls. Her whimpers turned into mewls, body writhing like a cat in heat.

Butcher inhaled deeply with a satisfied moan, “All I’m gonna be cravin’ is a taste of peaches and cream when I’m around ya, love.”

“It’s my new favorite flavor,” Ben grunted before licking and biting his bottom lip, concentration etched into his brow.

She couldn’t hold back the pathetic sounds she made when their hips started thrusting faster and harder, clit being stimulated against Butcher’s pelvis. Her whole body was a live wire, mind melted and only able to comprehend the way they fucked her beyond her limit. A growl rumbled between the two men when she pushed her hips back against them. “She’s not even thinkin’! Look at that! Pushin’ her hips back to get those dicks deeper,” Ben slapped her ass.

“Keep makin’ ya self feel good, peach. That slutty cunt’s flutterin’ away. She barely wants to let me go,” Butcher taunted.

Tears spilled down her cheeks and nails dug into the tanned and scarred skin below her. She babbled and moaned, pleasing and praising them for all the pleasure and pain they were giving her. “Pathetic slut. Ya want it so bad? Then do it,” Ben growled.

She screamed when they roughly bottomed out over and over again until it all finally exploded. Her vision went white, air escaping her lungs, and shivers flowing through her body. She tensed so hard around them, it was nearly impossible to move. Breath rushed back into her lungs feeling Butcher and Ben cumming inside her. It was a mix of growls, grunts, and sobs as the intense high passed through all of them. “Christ ON A CROSS!” Ben bit out. Whatever British slang Butcher grumbled out was incoherent through his gravelly, sex-filled voice. She was hyper aware of their cum leaking out of her around their dicks, the feeling wouldn’t soon be forgotten. Nothing about what they did to her would leave her memory for as long as she lived.

“Good girl, good girl, peach,” Butcher panted as he pet her sweaty hair, “J-Just…Let’s just stay like this.”

She pressed a cheek to his pec and nodded.

Ben blinked and shook his head, “Whoo! Haven’t cum like that in 40 years! I need weed.”

The supe slowly pulled himself from her abused hole, smirking at her little whimpers. A cool feeling swept across her back as he got off the bed and shuffled over to the kitchen table. Her mind floated in and out of consciousness. She lost the battle to be present in reality when big arms wrapped around her and murmured little sweet nothings. The smell of marijuana smoke mixed with the smell of sex in the air. The last thing she remembers before slipping into darkness was listening to the two men start to bicker.

[obaewankenope]

They are, in some ways, scared of being a bother to authors, aye. But there's also an aspect of some who read fic, might hit kudos, and then move on because they're just used to a reaction notification being enough (see most social media nowadays that lets you just heart or thumbs up shit and then keep on scrolling).

Some don't know they can comment at all.

Some don't care that they can comment because they expect the kudos button to be enough.

Some don't know what to say and fear bothering the author because they've seen how people commenting on things on Instagram etc can get dogpiled on and are scared of that happening to them.

Some just don't have the time to leave a comment because they're bing-reading and forget the fics they've read.

Some think a 'shout out' on other social media is preferred when, honestly, authors want to have engagement with their readers (we eat up comments even as simple as "<3 <3 <3" seriously, we genuinely do) but they're used to platforms like tiktok and Instagram where a 'shout out' is more valuable because it means hits and financial payoff. They don't realise we don't get paid on AO3 to write fic so a shout out isn't as useful to us as an actual comment or bookmarking of our fic with screeching in the bookmark notes.

Like, there's lots of varying reasons why commenting on fic isn't as prevalent anymore (many of which tend to stem from "reaction to a post being equated with the kudos button and thus 'enough'" because that's usually fine on other platforms) but anxiety and being scared/worried/concerned with causing offense or upset to the author (or anyone who reads the comments) is a big one too.

With how overwhelmingly powerful cancel-culture is and how people are told about or hear of times when authors have ripped on people leaving 'reviews' when they've been unasked for, a fair number of individuals likely worry about leaving a comment that, in some way, could be construed as criticism or unasked for critique and getting cancelled for it as a result.

The best way to avoid that, however, isn't to not comment, it's to have a bare-bones structure for leaving comments, mainly:

I loved/liked/enjoyed this fic/chapter/one-shot! My favourite bit is/was probably [insert short summary or specific bit of fic like a sentence or paragraph] because it made me feel/think about/remember sth specific to the fandom!

Amazing/good fic! 10/10 would recommend! Extra kudos!

That's, ultimately, the easiest way to leave a comment on a fic or chapter because it gives the author sth to look at, go "oh they liked that bit! Nice! I enjoyed writing that part as well!" and lets them know you read the fic even if its not a 5 page long, size 12 font in Times New Roman essay review. It also avoids any of the risks of unintentional critique or critical reviews that authors tend to not ask for (unless we state such in our author notes) that often tend to be upsetting for the author to read because no one wants to be criticised (even if it is being done in a helpful way) unexpectedly when they haven't asked for it.

And if that kind of comment is too much, or you're too anxious for it, even the simpler:

Loved it! Extra kudos! <3

Works well enough for us authors to know you liked what we wrote enough to tell us that and shows us that it's only because you can't leave more than one kudos per fic that's stopping you from spamming us with kudos.

Just, if you can, comment. We don't need fancy, we just need to know you care.

"Ao3 should allow multiple kudos" "I want to be able to leave more than one kudos"

COMMENT ON THE FUCKING FIC

I SWEAR TO GOD NO ONE COMMENTS MUCH NOW WHEN THE ONLY WAY TO SHOW APPRECIATION FOR A SINGLE CHAPTER IS COMMENTING AND I AM NOT HAVING THIS BULLSHIT BE LIKE TIKTOK WHERE NO ONE EVER COMMENTS POSITIVITY

FOR FUCKS SAKE JUST COMMENT ON THE FUCKING FIC YOU DON'T NEED A MULTIPLE KUDOS BUTTON YOU NEED ACTUAL WORDS

TRUST ME ON ANY WEBSITE OR APP I POST COMMENTS AND WORDS ARE 10X BETTER THAN ANY PLAIN LIKE AND WORDLESS REBLOG IF YOU LIKE SOMETHING LEAVE WORDS

COMMENT

ON

THE

FUCKING

FICS

[briechyne]

A Funny Thing About Missing Out

Quite ironically, I don't mind missing out on the things that some of my peers think they need to experience before growing up.

That, for me, goes both ways. Having a great relationship with your family and your friends at school—those are invaluable because they teach you how to navigate relationships, build trust, and understand the importance of community. Those experiences shape you, helping you learn how to maintain meaningful connections. On the other hand, there’s the idea that growing up means going to every party, drinking until you can’t remember anything, or chasing after reckless experiences just for the sake of saying you did. I don’t think those things are necessary, and honestly, I encourage people to reflect on whether they truly enjoy them or just feel pressured to take part.

But my perspective on missing out isn’t just about avoiding wild nights. It’s about something more personal—moments with friends, family, or even small social gatherings that I genuinely want to be part of but sometimes feel too exhausted to attend. Missing out isn’t always about disinterest; sometimes, it’s about self-preservation. There’s a kind of tiredness that isn’t just physical but mental, the type that lingers even after a full night’s sleep. When that exhaustion sets in, the idea of socializing—even in enjoyable situations—can feel overwhelming.

Recently, my aunt from choir had her birthday party, and I couldn’t go. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I needed a break from the constant demands of school. The academic pressure had drained me to the point where I wasn’t even able to study after classes—I would come home and immediately fall asleep. I knew that if I forced myself to attend, I’d be running on empty, and instead of being present in the moment, I’d just be waiting for the night to end so I could finally rest.

In that moment, I had a small debate with myself. If I went, the food would be amazing—I was seriously craving a good pasta dish. But if I forced myself to go, I’d be stretching myself too thin, giving up the little bit of peace I had left just to avoid the feeling of missing out. It wasn’t an easy decision because I value time with loved ones, and I don’t take those moments for granted. But at the same time, I knew that constantly showing up while running on empty wasn’t sustainable.

There’s this societal expectation that we should always be available, always say yes to experiences, and always push through exhaustion for the sake of memories. And while making memories is important, so is knowing when to step back. Sometimes, missing out isn’t a sign of laziness or disinterest—it’s an act of self-care. It’s recognizing that rest is just as valuable as social experiences, and that not every opportunity is worth sacrificing your well-being for. Learning to be at peace with missing out is a skill in itself, one that helps us prioritize what truly matters.

So yes, I chose to stay home. And yes, I did think about the food—please don’t judge.

Want More?

Thanks for reading my thoughts on missing out! If you enjoy my ramblings, reflections, and general overthinking, you can find more on Instagram and Patreon.

This blog isn’t behind a paywall because these are things I want to share freely. But if you’d like to support my writing, get early access to other posts, or see exclusive content (like commissioned moodboards and extra thoughts), check out my Patreon!

📷 Instagram: @briechyne ✨ Patreon: Lena Brie

Your support means a lot, whether it’s through Patreon, sharing my work, or just sticking around to read. 💙

[txttletale]

niceys positive anon!! i don't agree with you on everything but you are so clearly like well read and well rounded that you've helped me think through a lot of my own inconsistencies and hypocrises in my own political and social thought, even if i do have slightly different conclusions at times then u (mainly because i believe there's more of a place for idealism and 'mind politics' than u do). anyway this is a preamble to ask if you have recommended reading in the past and if not if you had any recommended reading? there's some obvious like Read Marx but beyond that im always a little lost wading through theory and given you seem well read and i always admire your takes, i wondered about your recs

it's been a while since i've done a big reading list post so--bearing in mind that my specific areas of 'expertise' (i say that in huge quotation marks obvsies i'm just a girlblogger) are imperialism and media studies, here are some books and essays/pamphlets i recommend. the bolded ones are ones that i consider foundational to my politics

BASICS OF MARXISM

friedrich engels, principles of commmunism

friedrich engels, socialism: utopian & scientific

karl marx, the german ideology

karl marx, wage labour & capital

mao zedong, on contradiction

nikolai bukharin, anarchy and scientific communism

rosa luxemburg, reform or revolution?

v.i lenin, left-wing communism: an infantile disorder

v.i. lenin, the state & revolution

v.i. lenin, what is to be done?

IMPERIALISM

aijaz ahmed, iraq, afghanistan, and the imperialism of our time

albert memmi, the colonizer and the colonized

che guevara, on socialism and internationalism (ed. aijaz ahmad)

eduardo galeano, the open veins of latin america

edward said, orientalism

fernando cardoso, dependency and development in latin america

frantz fanon, black skin, white masks

frantz fanon, the wretched of the earth

greg grandin, empire's workshop

kwame nkrumah, neocolonialism, the last stage of imperialism

michael parenti, against empire

naomi klein, the shock doctrine

ruy mauro marini, the dialectics of dependency

v.i. lenin, imperialism: the highest stage of capitalism

vijay prashad, red star over the third world

vincent bevins, the jakarta method

walter rodney, how europe underdeveloped africa

william blum, killing hope

zak cope, divided world divided class

zak cope, the wealth of (some) nations

MEDIA & CULTURAL STUDIES

antonio gramsci, the prison notebooks

ed. mick gidley, representing others: white views of indigenous peoples

ed. stuart hall, representation: cultural representations and signifying pratices

gilles deleuze & felix guattari, capitalism & schizophrenia

jacques derrida, margins of philosophy

jacques derrida, speech and phenomena

michael parenti, inventing reality

michel foucault, disicipline and punish

michel foucault, the archeology of knowledge

natasha schull, addiction by design

nick snricek, platform capitalism

noam chomsky and edward herman, manufacturing consent

regis tove stella, imagining the other

richard sennett and jonathan cobb, the hidden injuries of class

safiya umoja noble, algoriths of oppression

stuart hall, cultural studies 1983: a theoretical history

theodor adorno and max horkheimer, the culture industry

walter benjamin, the work of art in the age of mechanical reproduction

OTHER

angela davis, women, race, and class

anna louise strong, cash and violence in laos and vietnam

anna louise strong, the soviets expected it

anna louise strong, when serfs stood up in tibet

carrie hamilton, sexual revolutions in cuba

chris chitty, sexual hegemony

christian fuchs, theorizing and analysing digital labor

eds. jules joanne gleeson and elle o'rourke, transgender marxism

elaine scarry, the body in pain

jules joanne gleeson, this infamous proposal

michael parenti, blackshirts & reds

paulo freire, pedagogy of the oppressed

peter drucker, warped: gay normality and queer anticapitalism

rosemary hennessy, profit and pleasure

sophie lewis, abolish the family

suzy kim, everyday life in the north korean revolution

walter rodney, the russian revolution: a view from the third world

[uncanny-tranny]

I know this is a very unoriginal observation (much like any other), but I'm finally reading The Great Gatsby, and even I wouldn't describe men the way Nick does.

[ieatmorecrispsthanyou]

Hi! Thank you so much for replying, and I want to apologise for my uncharitable reading, and perhaps my misunderstanding of what you were going for with this post.

I do want to explain why I replied in the way that I did, however, as I think it will help us both come to a respectful understanding of each others' viewpoints, and that way we can leave this discussion without the animosity I will admit that I began.

When you said 'my biggest frustration with the perception of Dracula Daily is that it was all memes and shipping', the use of 'all' seemed to me to imply a tone of intellectual disdain for memes and shipping, rather than respect for the multifaceted fandom discourse which included both nuanced analytical text posts as well as memes and shipping. I now see that this was due to a combination of your phrasing (which you admit was perhaps not done in the best way to convey the point), and the fact that I dislike the popular negative perception of memes and shipping as the 'less valuable' form of analysis, as if it's always done by people who think the curtains are blue and lack critical thinking skills etc etc. Since, as you and I have pointed out, memes and shipping and academic analysis can coexist and comingle as intellectually stimulating ways of engaging with a text.

When I read in your post "it has nagged at me for a while that from the outside looking in you might think it was all memes and no nuanced discussion", therein seemed to be on the surface another privileging of lowbrow memes over highbrow nuanced discussion, which I now realise was also not the case, for the reasons mentioned above and in your reply.

So, as I said, I'm sorry for my uncharitable reading of your points. I admit I may have come into this discussion looking for a fight, since I am a fan of both media studies as a degree and reader response theory, which I will not need to tell you are inherently against intellectually elitist viewpoints that seem to privilege one reading/way of interacting with canon above another.

I will ask you this: did you feel you were being accused of intellectual snobbery?

Anyway, thanks for reading and have a good night/rest of your day, timezone depending.

I may have commented about this before (though I think not because I was worried it would come off as selfish complaining), but I think enough time has passed to say it:

My biggest frustration with the perception of Dracula Daily is that it was all memes and shipping. The physical book version did not help this by choosing a format that just put memes, short posts, and fanart next to the text.

I think quite a bit of the analysis and meta commentary was what made the experience enjoyable. People were engaging with the portrayal of women, of trauma, of disability etc in the book and grappling with the ways it is not what they expected. That part was really gratifying, especially when it extended to people reconsidering their preconceived notions of classic literature.

To me it was a book club for people who also analyze for fun.

I feel like much of that was lost in some of the presentations of the experience. Dracula Daily the book didn't include long analysis. Re:Dracula brought in outside academics for commentary.

And while I'm not saying anyone had to ask me or include my analysis (I don't even agree with all my analysis anymore), it has nagged at me for a while that from the outside looking in you might think it was all memes and no nuanced discussion. It just feels like it's missing something, you know?

[galaxseacreature]

the other significant others is a book about how amatonormativity-sorry, compulsory coupledom-sucks for everyone and we can do better if we dare to try. I think it is pretty well done and i know it's sorely needed. it has incredible mainstream accessibility and I genuinely hope people read it and the ideas circulate more broadly. but it drives me a little insane that aromantics get thrown into just one list in the intro and then the book seems reluctant to truly acknowledge that some people genuinely don't even want a romantic relationship and that's ok. anyway, the book tells a series of stories about various platonic life partnerships. it weaves in history about changing friendship and marriage norms and facts about modern relationships and how they might not fit our assumptions. the last chapter even dives into some really exciting legal reforms that could address amatonormativity! sorry. compulsory coupledom. anyway. I recommend this book for like....your allo cishet friend or like, your mom or something

[adhdo5]

To be so honest I think Lan Wangji is the character the donghua fumbles the hardest

[feminetomboy]

My prediction is that Cucurucho is trying to take down the Federation from the inside. And post.

[dodomingo]

Is there like 'become a human being' intensive career therapy or smth like that or is that something Ronald Raegan un-invented

[sincerely-sofie]

I'm not sure how weird of a question it would be to ask, or if it's one i should ask, but if you could choose to hallucinate one of them again without any kind of drawbacks just to talk with them, would you? And who would you talk to?

Not a weird question at all, and it's one I've actually asked myself a lot over the years! If I were able to hallucinate one of my old Brain Roommates™️ again, but without the intense anxiety that is required for me to hallucinate in the first place or the actual damage to my brain that hallucinations do, I'd be very, very interested in it. However, my answer for who I would speak to in this hypothetical scenario has changed throughout the years.

Originally, I wanted to talk to the Black Clock. He was the most consistently distressing hallucination, and was a sort of manifestation of my intense perfectionism and high standards for myself. I wanted to ask him if I was enough. It was a question that haunted me for years, and either answer scared me. If I was enough, then that meant I wasn't living up to my potential and that I was "sinful, irredeemable filth" according to the script I told myself back then. If I wasn't enough, then I didn't deserve anything good and I was an active blight on all that I loved, somehow. Nowadays I don't have anything to say to him. I'm enough for myself and I'm enough for God. The opinion of some misfiring synapses doesn't matter.

After that, I wanted to speak to the Red Woman. She expressed remorse after I found my first set of medications that partially stopped me from hallucinating, and she apologized for what she put me through and told me goodbye. I held her the night I took those medications while she cried and said she was scared to die. I never saw or heard from her again, at least as a hallucination. I wanted to tell her I forgave her and that I hoped she was okay, wherever she was. I don't have that same anxiety over the speculative mortality of the voices in my head anymore, so I wouldn't say I would want to talk to her again. There's not much point to it in my eyes. She hurt me and said she was sorry. That's a full sentence. I don't need to open it up for anything else.

Later on, I wanted to talk to the Lime Hands because, in a very bizarre exchange, he expressed to me he was depressed and didn't want to exist. I wanted to see if he was feeling any better, as strange as it was to ask that of a hallucination. Now, though, I hate that freak and make no apologies for what the dang thing put me through, and the only way I'd want to reunite with him is in some wonderland scenario where I could tangibly interact with him. And that's only because I'm punching that sucker's teeth in and breaking his pinky fingers.

As for the present day answer: If I were to choose any of my hallucinations to speak to without consequence, I think I'd like to speak to Doc Brown, or the Marigold Girl.

Doc Brown was the most cordial of the hallucinations and actually stepped in to advocate for me on occasion when the pain was really bad. I liked him a lot. He was a friend to me when I had very few people to talk to. We joked together and he gave me advice and words of comfort during some of the worst nights of my life. I think it'd be fun, in a very surreal way, to catch up with him— ask him how he's doing, how he's been, if he and the Marigold Girl are still buddies and if the Red Woman and him ever got over the hump of their flirtatious hatred for each other and actually became an item. It'd be a nice little send off to the guy. He was one of the first hallucinations I stopped experiencing, and his disappearance was very abrupt. I'd like to be able to say goodbye properly, thank him for his help, and smile and kindly say I hope I never see him again.

(also, the guy's whole shtick was anxiety over disease / contamination and the possibility of me infecting others with whatever bug I caught at the time. I stopped hallucinating him WAY before 2020 and I think he would lose his mind if I told him about COVID-19. That was his time to shine and he missed it. Poor thing.)

The Marigold Girl was a very difficult figure for me to handle when I was hallucinating. On the one hand, she was a lovely, if somewhat unsettling, little girl. She liked it when I read books and explained the plots to her. She always wanted to be held. She was scared of the dark. She adored my stuffed animals and would whisper to them while I was trying to sleep. I enjoyed being around her for the most part, but she was a very weepy hallucination, and the Black Clock would deal out punishment without fail whenever she cried— it was always my fault somehow, and so I suffered the consequences of her being a bit of a crybaby.

Looking back, I feel bad for her. She was a good kid, or at least as good of a kid as an unhealthy cocktail of neurochemicals in a weary brain can be. She once said she didn't want to cry all the time and wished she knew how to stop because I got in trouble because of it. I think it would be nice to comfort her and tell her it wasn't her fault that I'd be hurt. She couldn't control things anymore than I could back then.

I'd really like to show her the new stuffed animals I've collected over the years and read her one of the short stories I've written. I think she'd like Winter Came and Went if she didn't have to worry about the consequences of crying during the sad parts. She'd definitely enjoy Bibbidy Bee Goes to the Library. If possible, I'd like to ask what her favorite color is. I think she'd have a lot of fun answering, and I'd like being able to get to know this part of my psyche that was scared to let herself show any sadness for fear of hurting others with it.

[chronomally]

drop the paper? 🅱️ls?

If you're talking about the one that discusses using AI to make decisions about which unhoused people get access to housing, it's available for free here

[twinkubus]

24/7: Late Capitalism and the Ends of Sleep, Jonathan Crary (alt text under cut)

"The frameworks through which the world can be understood continue to be depleted of complexity, drained of whatever is unplanned or unforeseen. So many long-standing and multivalent forms of social exchange have been remade into habitual sequences of solicitation and response. At the same time, the range of what constitutes response becomes formulaic and, in most instances, is reduced to a small inventory of possible gestures or choices. Because one’s bank account and one’s friendships can now be managed through identical machinic operations and gestures, there is a growing homogenization of what used to be entirely unrelated areas of experience. At the same time, whatever remaining pockets of everyday life are not directed toward quantitative or acquisitive ends, or cannot be adapted to telematic participation, tend to deteriorate in esteem and desirability. Real-life activities that do not have an online correlate begin to atrophy, or cease to be relevant. There is an insurmountable asymmetry that degrades any local event or exchange. Because of the infinity of content accessible 24/7, there will always be something online more informative, surprising, funny, diverting, impressive than anything in one’s immediate actual circumstances."

[fantasmadelaciudad]

i hate doing the readings for this class they make me so upset