#but that's just what the production notes emphasised

[mofffun]

Bo...Boshimaru's felt patch isn't even his childhood face it's a hand-made felt patch with his grown-up face on his grown up underpants

did. did he had those custom. did he made them themselves. did kamejim just kept on wearing those embroidered undies in his disguise

[dashitsxx]

don't you ignore me | bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

summary. Maybe if Bakugo wasn't being a piece of shit to you, you wouldn't ignore and be bothered by his treatment towards you. However, you need to make him realize his actions, yet his temper always creates the most unexpected outcomes.

genre. angst. explicit smut. 18+

word count. 1.7k

warnings. dubcon. in an established relationship. adult!bakugo. hero!bakugo. citizen!reader. lots of cursing. arguments. aggressive behaviour. bitter and painful words (bakugo). communication issues. hints of possessiveness. a bit of egoistic behavior. degradation. dominance. manhandling. fingering. cunnilingus. slight choking.

disclaimer. Please note that this work is entirely fictional. It is not intended to condone, glorify, or encourage any form of violence, illegal activity, or harmful behaviour. All characters (credits to the manga artists), scenarios, and events are products of the author's imagination and/or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons or real events is purely coincidental. The purpose of this work is to entertain and provoke thought, not to promote harmful behaviour.

Silence bore between the two lovers, yet it was not the quietness of peace. It’s as if one of you stands waiting to be ignited before exploding. You crossed your arms and legs as you swung your foot back and forth, an annoyed expression crossed your face while in front of you was a glaring red-eyed man staring at you with a temper much worse than yours.

Bakugo clicked his tongue in annoyance, “Oi, aren’t you going to talk? Are you listening to me?" You only glared at him. It was his fault, anyway. So, why should you be bothered to communicate with him when he has no will to do it with you? It was always his profession, here, there, this, everywhere.

You understood him, always.

Yet it was unfair in your case; every time you asked him to do something for you, he would always reject it and prioritize his job before you. You even wonder if you were still his girlfriend or just a fucking maid. You didn't have to explain yourself with that, he should realize how he treats you. You sighed disappointedly at his response as you stood from the couch noiselessly before dashing upstairs to your bedroom. Bakugo stared at you with wide eyes, furious at your disrespect to him, especially your silence. He lets out a chuckle as he follows you. "Y/N. Talk to me, come on. What the fuck is your problem? Come on, babe. Fucking talk to me! You are making me look like a fool." Bakugo complained angrily. You pick up your pace, still ignoring him. "Stop fucking ignoring me!" Finally, Bakugo exploded.

A deafening reverberates in the bedroom as you harshly close the door. A shout followed once you entered your room. There were loud and quick strides that echoed behind the door. “Oi, Y/N! Don’t you ignore me!” Bakugo shouted aggressively. You ignored the loud voice of your boyfriend. Consequently, this made Bakugo bang on the door like a lunatic. “Hey, I am fucking talking to you! Stop being a bitch and open up the door!” He demanded furiously. 

Your jaw clenched upon hearing his words as you sit up before inhaling deeply. “Leave. me. the. fuck. alone. Katsuki. Just go and do your job by fucking other women!” You screamed back at him with a tone emphasising the words.

You stomp loudly on the ground as you heavily lay your body down on the bed. The shouts and screams by Bakugo continued as he continuously bangs the door. He can blast your door with his quirk at any moment, but despite his irritable temper, he is never reckless with his actions.

This situation resumes between you and your boyfriend for 5 more minutes until the banging stops. You waited a few moments to expect another banging, but it never came. When you feel like Bakugo has given up, you reach up to grab your pillow to place it on your face before gripping it and screaming as loud as you can.

“Asshole! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" Your muffled screams vibrated through the pillow. You were frustrated at your boyfriend. In a relationship, generally, people expressed that communication is the key to a healthy relationship. You agree with that perception while hoping to experience where you and your significant other are open towards each other, with no shyness or fear present. But with Bakugo, it was the opposite. He was loud, but it meant that he never listened. There were a lot of circumstances you can name where you tried to get him to listen to you. He always wanted people to follow him, including you. You love Bakugo, but you hate that part about him. His pride was a problem to you and the relationship itself. It hinders you from attempting to be open with your lover.

Sometimes, a thought passes by saying it would be better if you weren't in a relationship. You remove the pillow from your face as you blankly stare at the ceiling.

Should you break up with him? Suddenly, a frame appeared in your view. A loud gasp left your lips as you propped your elbows. The man in front of you had a deadly grin and eyes that were blazing fire as if his stare would kill you in seconds.

"The fuck did you just say, babe?" He gritted through his teeth. Your eyes dilated upon seeing your boyfriend. Your lips shake from fright as you try to form your words, "H-how... w-what, h-how did you..."

A chuckle left Bakugo's mouth as he trapped you between his body and the bed, slowly climbing up, "Babe, you are not the one who is only living here, hmm? But I want to know what you said a while ago."

You frown upon what he said—did you say it out loud? You never meant it. It was the heat of the moment. In a million years, you never wish for that to happen even if it passes in your mind. You back away slowly, "What do you mean? I didn't say anything..."

Another sarcastic chuckle was emitted by your boyfriend as he pushed himself up on his knees and cracked his knuckles soundly. You feel shivers spreading through your body as you wait for his turn to speak. His silence was fearing you.

Suddenly, he yanked your ankles towards him, leaving you to yelp in surprise. As he climbs between your legs and then bends down to you. With that, he begins to your face with his right hand, drawing in a ticklish manner. Gently, his thumb stops at your lips. You stare at Bakugo's face, only to see him, licking his lips sensually. He unhurriedly pushes his thumb between the gap of your lips as you allow him. The push of your tongue down made your back arched, your crotch inches away from his.

"You know, baby? I admire your courage, really do." Bakugo snickers as his hand leaves your mouth to slowly slide down to your neck, the saliva trailing your chin.

"It is one of the things I love about you... however, you can't fuck with me with that foolishness of yours."

A sudden, rough placement was rubbing your clothed pussy, and you gasped loudly at the sensation. Pleasure soared through your body despite the brutish action of Bakugo. He sneered at your reaction, it was definitely satisfying to see you squirming at his touch below him as always.

His right hand proceeds to lift your shirt up to free your breasts from the confinement of the fabric, "You say you wanna break up with me, huh? What the fuck you have been drinking for you to say that?" He mocks.

As his other hand hooks your shorts and panty to the side before sliding a finger up your slit. A moan erupted from your lips, "Oh my gosh, Katsuki!" You could not reply to his mocks due to the unbelievable satisfaction that he always gives you.

"This slut can't even give an answer." Bakugo grabs a nipple by his lips, sucking it harshly before switching to your other boob. You hissed in response. Bakugo always knows how to make you shut up, it wasn't your fault you couldn't answer.

"Perhaps, I should fuck you hard to get that pissy attitude out of your pussy... and I'll make sure that you would never think about leaving me. I guess this is what you deserve after fucking ignoring me the whole day." A deadly grin formed on Bakugo's lips as he let go of your nipples.

Your eyes widen as you quickly place your hands on his huge forearms. "W-wait! Katsuki! Ah!" You moan loudly as your boyfriend inserts two of his thick fingers in your cunt, making you feel full.

Like the expert he is, he harshly thrusts his fingers with his thumb circling your clit rapidly. You suck in a deep breath as your back arches greatly. The squelch of your pussy entertained Bakugo as he felt this great pride overpowering him.

"Look at how wet you are, babe. No one will ever get you this wet other than me."

The words of Bakugo only passes through the other ear as you feel dizzy at the pleasure. While you attempt to at least decrease the sensation, Bakugo notices it as he chuckles.

He then placed his palm flat on your pelvis area, pushing you to prevent you from moving away from him, but this didn't help you one bit. It made it more difficult for you to resist the upcoming hurl around your stomach. You squirm around his hold, "S-slow down! F-fuck, Bakugo!" You plead while leaving long streaks of red marks, digging your nails.

Yet, your boyfriend ignored the pain. He only curved his lips upwards as he continued to finger you at a merciless speed. You were a mess; beads of sweat formed all around your body; hair was in a dishevelled state; and a fucked-up pleasure expression crossed your face.

As you are in bliss, you don't notice your boyfriend go down on you. Then you feel a long wet stripe along your hole, and you take a sharp inhale. "Oh fuck, Katsuki!"

A snicker left his lips as he licked your slit deliberately. His red eyes stare at you, "You're lucky, I'd be the one fucking you like this. A lot are lining up just to get a taste of me."

His thumb continues to rub your clit. "But no man will be able to satisfy you like I do. Well, I don't plan to let them either." A possessive tone was evident in his voice.

You open your mouth to retract back at him, but he laps his tongue on your sensitive bud, making you twist. You slid your hand from his forearms to grab his hair hard.

He was ruthless as he pushes your hips down to prevent you moving carelessly. Katsuki sucks your clit repeatedly. Yet, you only gave moans and whimpers until a sudden twist feeling quickly emerges, releasing in your stomach as you heave.

"Oh, I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" You muttered repeatedly, which made your boyfriend laps his tongue in a much brutal pace.

You shiver as you release. Your chest rises up and down as you try to catch your breath. However before you gather yourself up, a hand stops you by pushing your neck down. You cough in the process as you struggle to breathe.

He glowers down at you with intense eyes. He is portaying his dominance over you. Little by little, he leans to your ear, lips slowly tickling the small hairs.

"I am still not done with you."

all dividers are from @/cafekitsune, thank you <33

[mactavishsgfandwife]

141 When They’re Sick

bilingual privilege is using your second language to scribble down notes for your tumblr fanfiction in class with the reassurance that no one else will be able to understand what you’re writing 😋 pure fluff (not proofread)

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish

soap has such man flu vibes

i just know he will have a little cold from never dressing appropriately for the english weather (he thinks he can tough it out) (he can’t) and then lays on the sofa for a week, miserable and constantly pining for your attention

he loves a cup of tea when he’s sick but he also swears that irn bru has magic restorative qualities, and "that’s how i keep m’physique, bonnie"

Johnny groans, rubbing his face with his palm as he lays stretched out over the sofa, his feet resting on one arm and a hot water bottle flopped lazily over his stomach. For the most part, the grunts and sighs seem genuine, but you could swear that he makes sure to emphasise his suffering when you walk past, just to let you know what a big strong boy he’s being for dealing with his sore throat and slight headache.

"Head hurts…" he groans, holding a forearm over his eyes to shield them from the light.

"I know, honey… you want a paracetamol?" you pat his head, trying to hide your little, sympathetic laugh.

"Nah, only just had one… Y’could gimme a kiss, though," he grinned up at you, his tone lightening a little.

"Ew! Stop, I don’t want your germs," you laugh, pulling your hand away from his hair.

"Aww, c’mon… might make me feel better," Johnny teases, sitting up a little (he wasn’t really that weak in the first place) and holds your wrist so you can’t escape. When you see the stupid, irritating grin on his face, you know you don’t really care about germs. You just want to kiss him.

Captain John Price

price, when he’s feeling ill, likes to be looked after - the number one cure for ANY of this man’s problems is a warm bath

he loves it when you act like a little housewife for him, running him a warm bath and bringing him a constant stream of cups of tea - sometimes he’ll pretend to be sicker than he is for a little longer than he has to just for a day or two more of being doted on by you. not that you don’t do that anyways.

but he’s a menace when you try to go off shopping or to work - he lays a strong, hairy arm over you, mumbling something about being sick and needing you to stay

if you massage his back and shoulders when he’s feeling sick, he will be so happy. it takes a little longer than when he rubs your back because there’s just more of him, with his broad shoulders and muscular dad-bod (yum)

You have John laying on his front, on the bed, arms crossed under his head. His hair is damp, getting the bedsheets a little wet beneath him, and he has a soft white towel wrapped loosely around his hips - he smells strangely like lavender (he definitely used your shower gel instead of his because yours is nicer - you pretend not to notice, as your hands gently move up and down his sore back).

He’s managed to come down with a bad cold the day after an intense workout, so his body is totally exhausted and nothing really appeals to him other than laying down. Being as fit as he is, you wouldn’t expect him to be in such a state, but the man needs a break and it’s plain to see.

The soft light from the nice-smelling candles that you’ve lit on the bedside table plays in his wet hair, which you gently comb your fingers through.

"You been using my products again, hmm?" you grin with a gentle tone, leaning in closer to him.

"Sorry love…" he starts to respond, his voice a little hoarse.

"It’s okay," you laugh softly, nuzzling your face into his back as you lower yourself on top of him, like a weighted blanket. Your soft hands wrap gently around his scarred sides, as little sighs of contentment leave your mouth.

"What happened to my back rub?" he teases, feeling your body laying against him. Still, he doesn’t a muscle to stop you from cuddling up to him.

As you keep quiet, enjoying the warmth of his body, he chuckles and pulls himself into a more comfortable position below you.

"That’s alright, sweetheart…" he replies to your silence.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

simon would try to be an unphased tough guy but he’d have little moments of weakness

he’d insist that he’s not that sick while taking paracetamol and drinking tea constantly, pulling you close to him as often as he can and being clingier than usual (he’s always touchy, but he is particularly reliant on you now)

he’s in a terrible mood, but just resting his head on your shoulder or holding you while you work helps him… better yet, he loves it when you’re sitting on the sofa and working on your laptop, or watching a film, and he gets to lay down with his head in your lap - with your soft fingers occasionally brushing through his short hair

he’s a tough guy, but when it’s just you and him, he can just lay down with his girl without worrying about being ghost. he’s just simon - poorly simon, with his sweet girlfriend taking care of him.

Phone in your hand, you quietly text your friend about her crazy ex boyfriend and the dress that she’s going to wear out tonight - the red one or the other red one, with the different neckline? You look up to the doorway to see a tall, tired man walk into the sitting room - 6’4", dressed in an old grey hoodie and a pair of pyjama bottoms, ruffling his hair and looking utterly exhausted.

"Thought you were asleep, Si…"

"Can’t sleep," he mumbles gruffly, silently moving towards you and finding a spot to lay his head - right in your lap, his feet resting on the opposite arm of your big sofa.

Understanding his fatigue, you sigh softly and stroke his head as it lays against you. His skin is pale, showing his sickness, and his eyes look tired and dry. A little groan escapes his lips as he shuffles on the sofa, trying to make himself comfortable.

"Love you, darling…" he whispers softly, his eyes shutting in preparation to finally sleep.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

i feel like kyle’s love language is food

if you make that man a curry or a good spag bol, he will secretly be making plans to propose to you as he eats it

and that’s all the more true when he’s ill or tired out - some comfort food home cooked by you would mean the world

Gaz had a bad cold and had been hibernating in bed all day, mostly asleep but occasionally watching the football or texting Soap to complain about how sick he is. As you walked into the room, brandishing a bowl of spaghetti carbonara, his eyes lit up.

"Hey, what’s this?" he grins, his voice a little hoarse.

"Carbonara. For you," you chuckle, placing it down on his bedside table, "I have some work stuff to finish, I-"

"Y’could just stay with me instead. I’ve been locked up in here all day," he teases.

"You’ve been asleep all day! I really need to… well…"

"Come on, baby."

You struggle to hide the grin that’s creeping onto your face, not wanting to procrastinate your work any longer (this wasn’t the first time Kyle has stolen you away from typing up emails) but he got what he wanted when, a moment later, you were cuddled up to him. Wearing his tshirt and your underwear, with your head resting on his shoulder.

"Oh my God, this is so good!" he chuckles, eating, voice still strained from the sore throat. He’s mostly just happy to have you next to him (oh, as well as the pasta).

gaz is my babyyyyyyy i don’t think you guys get it 😣😣😣 this took an age and a half to write i hope it’s up to standard thanks for reading!! xx

[iwillbringyouruin]

Visions Magazine with Tobias Forge on the idea behind Rite Here Rite Now, the importance of soundtracks in general and how he distinguishes between himself and his characters (Visions Magazine issue nr. 377, 08/2024)

Full translation of the included interview by me below the cut - buckle up, this is a long post! There are no spoilers for RHRN in this.

Markus Hockenbrink: Tobias, have you ever watched the movie Metallica: Though The Never?

Tobias Forge: Yes, once, when it had just come out. The topic Metallica came up when we were taking care of the funding for [RHRN]. Every larger production company – and I have to emphasise here that this was before Taylor Swift’s The Eras Tour and her extremely successful movie about it – voiced a lot of concern back then whether anybody would still be interested in concert movies. I had to explain time and again that my movie wouldn’t be a typical concert movie, to which I was asked several times: “Oh, so something like Through The Never?” I had to deny that again. We tell a story in our movie most of our fans are already familiar with. So it’s not an entirely new concept, which is already the first distinction from Through The Never. If you only consider that there is a concert part and a feature film part, then those two movies are probably similar. But that also applies to La La Land.

M. Hockenbrink: You describe your movie as a combination of Kiss’ Alive II, Ralph Bakshi cartoons and silent film horror. Is that a kind of childhood dream that comes true there?

T. Forge: Definitely. For as long as I’ve been interested in music, I’ve also been interested in film and television. Working in film could have also been a career option for me, but I always got the rather annoying impression that one would have to go to film school to really find a place in that field. School was never my strong suit, I see myself more as a autodidact in that regard. That I had the opportunity to work on/contribute to my own movie as a sorcerer’s apprentice of sorts is a real privilege. That is a dream come true but it is also something I can picture more of in the future. Next time maybe without the band.

M. Hockenbrink: Can you remember a specific moment in your life when you realised that you were especially drawn to topics that are slightly morbid and unsettling?

T. Forge: I think that due to my family I came in contact with vastly different kinds of pop culture from a very young age. In more traditional families with more conservative parents and siblings of similar ages, you only really start with your respective journey to find yourself in your teens. Then there are often restrictions that are meant to distract from those darker influences. My parents on the other hand are very liberal and my brother was 13 years older than me. There were never limits or censorship for me. My childhood didn’t go by without rules entirely, but I was always allowed to watch or listen to what my brother was also watching or listening to. That was I was exposed to all kinds of teenage culture from the beginning. Sure, I also liked Pippi Longstocking and He-Man. But that was always combined with the French arthouse films my mother liked to watch or the horror flicks my brother was into. I can’t recall a particularly striking horror film experience, but I still remember the first time it dawned on me that movies don’t just exist, they’re made.

M. Hockenbrink: How do you mean?

T. Forge: My father worked as a documentary maker in television. His job was to connect the video track and the sound track in a fitting way for different film production. I saw Jaws on television with him as a small child. It’s important to note that my father is not somebody who can just quietly enjoy films but somebody who likes to butt in. Thanks to him I already had a kind of epiphany during the introduction. He said: “Look closely! There is nothing to see in this underwater scenery except the algae. Technically completely harmless. But it only takes the ominous music to turn the whole scene into pure horror already!” And I thought: Wow! That’s true! Later in the movie you only have to hear that music and it immediately puts you on edge, even when there’s nobody in the water right now. They don’t even have to show the shark anymore. I found it fascinating that the [viewer’s] senses/perception could be manipulated like that. Ever since I’ve been viewing films with different eyes. I can still allow myself to dive into the story but at the same time I see the practical aspect to film-making.

M. Hockenbrink: I had a similar feeling during the introduction of Shining: technically a cozy road trip in the mountains, but a pure nightmare with the music.

T. Forge: I’m with you on that. Shining is one of the best movies of all time. And funnily enough, only the intro sequence was actually shot in nature. All the other scenes, even if they were outside, were filmed in the studio. Exactly that kind of craftsmanship is what I find inspiring.

M. Hockenbrink: With that in mind, what makes a good soundtrack in your opinion?

T. Forge: We already talked about Jaws, but I can think of Eyes Wide Shut as another example. There is that short piano theme that comes up again and again, incredibly effective. A good soundtrack needs to deliver something that you don’t have to be able to see to perceive its existence. Sure, there are no monsters in Eyes Wide Shut, aside from the main character’s jealousy as an internal monster maybe. But just like the music in Jaws, the theme from Eyes Wide Shut symbolises something that doesn’t have to be shown. The sound is enough. That is also a commonly used effect in adventure and love movies. You just put in a short vignette to describe the love between two characters. In Star Wars, Luke Skywalker also has his own theme, that is used every time when things get emotional and you’re supposed to feel that hope. You’ve got to pay attention to that. Jason Voorhees from Friday the 13th also has a personal theme to recognise him by. Every time you hear it you immediately know “Oh shit, he’s nearby!”

M. Hockenbrink: What about soundtracks that are made up of songs?

T. Forge: With that, I’m especially thinking of Silence of the Lambs. In the scene where Buffalo Bill dresses up as a woman and dances around his basement, a song called Goodbye Horses by Q Lazzarus is playing. I have no idea how the artist felt that since the song is now so irrevocably connected to that awful scene, that you can’t listen to it anymore without thinking of it.

M. Hockenbrink: Do you feel like soundtrack work is more appreciated now than it used to be?

T. Forge: I think that it’s definitely gained importance over the last 40 years. The right song on the right soundtrack can be incredibly powerful. Just think of Stranger Things. Obviously, Metallica and Kate Bush already had successful careers before, but what happened with Master of Puppets and Running Up That Hill following the series was something else entirely. The songs were associated so strongly with the narrative, that way more people listened to them than before. Of course I’m a strong advocate for live music but I also realised that nothing is as strong as the connection of visuals and music. That is still the most powerful way to appeal to a deeper emotion through the association.

M. Hockenbrink: More or less a shortcut to the subconscious.

T. Forge: Exactly. But you can’t be cynical about that either. If I was an A&R person at a big label, I would probably also say: “You just have to find a spot for one of your songs on a popular soundtrack, then you’ll have made it!” That’s really how it is. But when you view it from an artistic perspective, when you want to reach people a certain way or bring across a certain message or a certain feeling, the combination of visuals and sound can’t be topped.

M. Hockenbrink: It especially lends itself to an immersive experience, as seems to be in the foreground of [RHRN]. An album by Black Sabbath or Iron Maiden ends at some point, then you’re gone from that metal world again. With Ghost, however, you get the feeling that the illusion just keeps on going, across several media. Did you plan the Ghost mythology like this from the start?

T. Forge: In part. When I started with the band, I only wanted to make a standalone album. The concept was supposed to be interesting and practical, but I wasn’t planning for Ghost to be a huge thing. The style I pictured has its own limits in my opinion. The band was supposed to function a certain way and appeal to a certain target audience. The concert was supposed to be a theatrical performance in the literal sense. Ghost were never supposed to perform in a normal rock club nor go on tour. I wanted more of a kind of Vaudeville show in a proper plushy theatre. The band was supposed to be as anonymous as the actors that stand on stage and play, say, Faust. The idea behind this was: Those who don’t know who the people are on stage are more ready to follow the story. Then we would perform three days back-to-back in select cities. Berlin, Amsterdam, London. Just like Diamanda Galás who can more likely be found at a culture festival than in a rock shack. But things turned out differently in the end, and I had to kiss my original ideas goodbye again, so to speak.

M. Hockenbrink: Why?

T. Forge: After the success of our debut album, it became clear to me that more conventional concerts were going to be demanded of us and that I could only really say yes or no. This problem became worse after our shift to a bigger label. It became clear that my vision of telling stories clashed with the live sector and requirements for success more and more. At a certain point anonymity doesn’t work anymore and I had to make peace with that in the end.  I originally didn’t even want to do interviews but that’s obviously tricky when you want to sell records. The question that I constantly ask myself since is how I can do those things best in the Ghost way without denying the original Vaudeville spirit.

M. Hockenbrink: In his autobiography Golf Monster, Alice Cooper talks about himself in third person a lot when he is talking about his character. Are you feeling similarly at this point?

T. Forge: At least I can definitely see where he’s coming from. There is a difference between the person Vincent Furnier and the character Alice Cooper. I believe that he was on the verge of completely transforming into Alice Cooper at one point – to the point where one has to decide where they want to live or die. In the end he decided to remain Vincent Furnier and only become Alice Cooper for work, on stage. So far I’ve been fortunate to combine the two pretty well, but had I started Ghost ten years earlier in my life, it would have probably affected me similarly to how Alice Cooper did with Vincent Furnier in his time. But with my humble experience as an actor I have to say: every character you play becomes a part of you to a certain extent. You have to find certain qualities – good or bad – within yourself to bring such a character to life. I think that most actors only play one or two roles throughout their life that they then end up being known for. The different characters that I’ve portrayed on stage are not only very similar but actually also a part of me. Fortunately a part of me that I don’t want to deal with all day long.

M. Hockenbrink: Too cynical and antisocial?

T. Forge: Cardinal Copia or Cardi, as I like to call him, is not an all-around cool person, but that makes him so fun to play for me. He is half Freddie Mercury and half Jacques Clouseau. Kind of clumsy, kind of silly, kind of stupid. The kind of guy who trips over his own feet but catches himself elegantly. That’s also me in a way, but not just. And I think that’s easier to embody than a daredevil hero character who can rival anyone and gets all the ladies. When somebody plays only those characters their whole life, it will probably really go to their head. Especially when there are drugs involved on top of that.

M. Hockenbrink: With all that fondness of doom that can be found with Ghost, that universe also has something humorous about it, benign even. It that an intentionally included contradiction?

T. Forge: Yes, and it is also very important to me that it comes across like that. For me that also has something to do with the evolution of metal. Originally it was mostly a phenomenon connected to the youth, nowadays the musicians and their fans are close to retiring. That brings a certain maturity. Even the Norwegian black metal musicians who were super pissed and extreme 30 years ago and were only made of hate and aggression are well-adjusted people now. Bearded fathers and grandfathers with a pleasant view on life that make others laugh. I see a certain duality there. Everything that has something to do with goth, with metal, with horror, appears dark, dismal and hostile at first. But in reality, that can all be extremely life-affirming and a source of great joy for many people. So pretty much the opposite.

M. Hockenbrink: Speaking of horror: could you imagine making a real feature film some day?

T. Forge: Yes, I would love that. I’m well aware that it’s not going to be easy to make what I’m picturing a reality, just because I’ve done directing once with [RHRN] now. The creative liberty I got to enjoy there also was due to the fact that I funded the movie myself. So nobody was meddling with it. That is likely completely different when you work on behalf of a big studio, because we are talking about different sums here. If I only go off my dreams, I would name two points of reference. One is Shining, the other Bram Stoker’s Dracula by Francis Ford Coppola. I would like to make a movie that’s only shot in a studio, with elaborate sets, matte painting and all that. No outside shots, no special effects, no green screen. And no actors who only gets to see what they were actually doing after the fact. Proper old-school. The way movies are actually meant to look.

[reagent-leon]

GUYS!!! Stop saying Coyle is singing his ABCs wrong!!

"T, P, D, A, T, F, C, I, A, F, B, I, U, S, P, I, S, D, O, D, S, S, S, U, S, A."

He's not singing his ABCs he's just using the same tune, they're all acronyms

TPD = ?*

ATF = Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives

CIA = Central Intelligence Agency, 

FBI = Federal Bureau of Investigation, 

USPIS = United States Postal Inspection Service,

DOD = United States Department of Defense,  

SSS = Selective Service System, 

USA = United States of America

Okay? So let's all stop saying he's uneducated or illiterate because he's definitely not. Pre-Sinyala Coyle kept "obsessively complete notes" according to Clyde Perry's account, and furthermore just look at his pretty handwriting on the evidence boxes, that's not an uneducated scrawl. Coyle is willfully ignorant, but he's not lacking in basic literacy skills.

"But Leon, why did he misspell Guilty as Giltee on the Scapegoat?"

Well, friend, I don't entirely know. But as he's spelt it correctly in other places, he probably did it on purpose, matching his dialect to emphasise his point. Maybe he just forgot about the U and by the time he'd started carving the L he knew he needed to commit to his fuck up.

*Sooo I have some theories as to what TPD could stand for.

Total Permanent Disability. In one of Coyles' dialogues, he mentions his Father losing his foot in the Battle of Hürtgen Forest. That injury would likely see him permanently disabled and unable to work as he had before (it's implied that Coyles' parents were cattle ranchers), therefore he would be entitled to welfare checks.

Tulsa Police Department. Tulsa and Blackwell are within 2 hours drive of each other and it's very possible that Coyle completed his training at the Tulsa Police Academy before going on to work for the Blackwell Police Department. Tulsa also has history of violent racism, which would appeal to Coyle.

Tactical PSYOPS Detachment/United States Psychological Operations. There was extensive use of psychological operations in World War II, and given everything that the Outlast Trials are about I think this is a worthy contender.

Tobacco Products Directive. This was the only other thing I could think of that would make sense in conjunction with Coyle, but it's a European Union directive, and therefore I think it's unlikely this is what Coyle is referring to, but I still thought it was worth mentioning.

If you have any better ideas please feel free to share them!

A big big thank you to my friends in the Coyle Crew: @misa-bun @soggy-bean and @mortisdeth for their help in researching, theorising and giving me moral support when I thought I was about to lose it

[nayoungs-archive]

𝐢. 𝗇𝖺𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀'𝗌 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝖽𝖾!

disclamer! these tips are all from experience, they've been tried and tested by yours truly. please note that i am not a skin specialist, and if you have any major skin concerns, visit a dermatologist! always remember that you are beautiful just the way you are, and these tips are aiming to help you achieve a healthier overall lifestyle.

i. skin types: everyone's skin is different! so, the first and most important step is to find out what kind of skin you have. is it oily? is it often dry? is it sensitive to certain products? determining your skin type will aid you in finding products that work for you, making it a crucial step.

ii. drink more water: i know, you've heard it a million times! but i cannot emphasise how important it is to drink water! not just for your skin, but it benefits your overall health and well-being. dehydration can cause dryness, and oiliness- which can lead to heat boils and breakouts. drinking 2-3 litres of water every day can clear up your skin significantly!

iii. avoid oily and fried foods: health begins on the inside, so we must nourish our skin the same way! oily foods can clog your pores, and make your skin greasy. in general, processed and fried food is bad for your health as it is full of preservatives and artificial flavouring. although it is important to treat yourself from time to time, avoid eating these on a daily basis.

iv. stop touching your face: i understand how hard this might be for some of you because we end up subconsciously touching our face from time to time, but not touching your face is a crucial habit and you must train yourself to reduce the number of times you touch your face. touching your face with unwashed hands makes your skin oily and dirty. song jia revealed she only touches her face while applying basic skincare or washing her face. it seems impossible, but you can do it!

v. apply sunscreen daily: no matter what, you must include sunscreen in your skincare routine. regardless of the weather, it's important since the uv rays from the sun harm your skin, and pollutants in the air (especially in the city) can damage your skin significantly. i use neutrogena and it's super lightweight and gives your skin a glowy and clean look.

vi. weather matters: weather conditions play a big role in determining which skincare products you should be using. for example- if you live near the sea coast, you might not need to moisturise due to severe humidity, but if you live in a cold and dry country, a heavy moisturiser might be advisable! if you are interested in skincare tips for people living in tropical countries- comment!

vii. facewash usage: again, it depends on where you live. i personally live near the coast, so i end up washing my face thrice a day due to constant sweating. during winter, take a call on whether you need to use a facewash in the mornings. over-cleansing can strip your skin of natural oils, which does more harm than good. if the climate where you live is not too severe, i would recommend washing your face twice a day.

nayoung's note: hope these tips helped you! feel free to let me know how they worked in the comments.

[hollybell51]

Gentleman

Navigation

Sam Winchester x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005), s03e02 “bloodlust”

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: you and Sam don't exactly see eye to eye with Dean's new friend, so you return to the motel by yourselves. Things... escalate.  

Content: smutty smut smut! Shameless, loving, gentle porn with a bit of a plot. Tooth rotting sappiness and fluff. Bit of hurt/comfort, bit of angst. Reader is just so in love with Sam (I am too dw). Sam is down horrendously bad for the reader (I'm horrendously down bad for him. I cannot emphasise this enough). Use of (Y/N), but not too much. Hickeys, making out, extremely light switchiness (barely noticeable, just healthily flexible dynamics), blowjobs, handjobs, fingering, safe sex, vaginal sex. Hugs all round (someone needed to give these boys one), Dean and the reader get along, Dean has like one soft moment, there's quite a bit of reminiscing and stuff. Gordon's vibes are Off. As above, set during season 2 episode 3.

Notes: HAPPY NEW YEAR MY LOVES! I'm (kinda) back, and my summaries have not gotten any better! Started watching Supernatural and got brainrot. Got lots of stuff planned but probably won't actually write it (sorry). The things I would let these two men do to me is insane like actually insane besties I am not ok. Anyways enjoy the by-product of my suffering, consider this a peace offering as I worm my way into the Supernatural fandom.

Also I have been working sporadically on some requests so if you made one chances are I've seen it and I have started it, but also I have Things in my Life right now that are very Stressful so yeah that's fun but yknow it is what it is, thanks everyone for being so supportive and patient with me xx

To say you were uncomfortable would have been an understatement. It wasn’t just how easily Gordon was talking about what had happened, or the too-bright light in his eyes as he recounted it, or Dean’s ease with the whole thing. It had been a freaking execution! And sure, the guy was a vampire, but the way the saw had just chewed right through his neck, the kicking of his legs as he’d died, the blood spraying over Dean’s face… yeah. As Sam had put it, decapitations weren’t really your idea of a good time. And it certainly wasn’t something you felt like laughing about over drinks. 

You could see Sam’s leg bouncing slightly, his face blank as he stared at the beer he was nursing. Your own stomach twisted with unease. Chances were, if he was on edge, so were you. The emotional interplay wasn’t new, and in fact, Dean gave you endless shit about it. “I don’t know what’s up with you,” he’d say. “I just gotta thank God I don’t develop some freaky emotional feedback loop with every girl I bang.” 

Now, Sam glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. You screwed up your nose. Not enough to be too noticeable, but enough to let him know you thought something was a bit off too. He nodded almost imperceptibly. 

“What’s up with you two?” Dean asked, frowning at your practically untouched beer. 

You shrugged. Sam shrugged. 

Dean rolled his eyes, taking a mouthful of his drink before turning to his new friend. “I swear,” he said, “they read each others' minds. He’s grumpy, she’s grumpy. She’s happy, he’s happy. I reckon if she stubbed her toe, he’d be limping.” 

Gordon barked a laugh, raising his eyebrows. “That so?” 

“Dean, come off it,” you sighed. 

He shook his head, smiling. “Lighten up, both of you.” 

You opened your mouth to say something about how you didn’t think lightening up was really appropriate given the circumstances, but the scraping of Sam’s chair cut you off. 

“I’m not gonna bring you guys down,” he said. “I’m just gonna go back to the motel.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed as he glanced at you, “I’m a bit tired.” 

Dean frowned. “You sure?” 

You nodded, standing. 

“Ok,” he shrugged. “Seeya.” 

“Seeya,” you smiled tightly, then passed him your unfinished beer. “You want this?” 

“You’re not taking it?” 

You shook your head. “Not in a beer sort of mood.” 

He gave you a searching look, then shrugged again and took the drink. “Sure.” 

“Thanks, Gordon.” You nodded to the other hunter. As much as you felt off about him, you didn’t need to be rude. 

He inclined his head back to you. “My pleasure.” 

Sam’s hand settled on your back as you joined him by the door, and you cast a final glance back at the two men remaining at the table. 

“Sammy!” Dean called, the car keys jingling in his hand as he tossed them to his brother. “Remind me to beat that buzzkill outta you later, alright?” 

Sam caught them with ease, Gordon’s enquiry of “something I said?” chasing you out the door. Hell yeah, it was something he said. It was everything he said.  

“Jesus,” you grumbled, shivering in the cold air. 

Sam snorted, absently shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. Equally thoughtlessly, you put it on. It had become something of a routine. Sam didn’t exactly get too cold very often, but you did. He was many things, and “gentleman” was pretty high on the list by you reckoning. 

“I don’t know about all of this,” he said, feet crunching on the gravel as he headed towards the car. “Something’s…” 

“Off, yeah.” You swung into the passenger seat, arms crossed firmly over your chest. 

“I can’t quite–” The engine cut him off for a moment, but he didn’t finish the sentence anyway. It didn’t matter.

“I know, it’s a brain itch.” 

Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Tell me about it. Seatbelt,” he added as the car rolled out of the parking lot, another habit between the two of you. You could have sworn you’d have been dead years ago if you hadn’t had someone reminding you to use the damn things, a fact that both Winchester brothers were not afraid to attempt to drill into you. They hadn’t had much success. 

You hummed as you clicked the strap across your body, shrinking further down into the seat. You were feeling better now that you weren’t sitting across from Gordon, now that it was just you and Sam. You loved Dean, of course you did, but Sam was just so easy to be around. The two of you clicked, simple as that, and you adored it. 

“I’m gonna call Ellen,” Sam said decisively, frowning at the road. “Maybe she knows him.” 

You nodded. “Mhm, good idea.” 

You were still humming – the melody from something that had been playing on the drive that day, you thought – as you entered the motel room, gulping down a glass of water before jumping onto the kitchen counter. Your heels made a dull thud, thud, thud, on the cupboards as you swung them, the zipper of Sam’s jacket swishing over the cheap vinyl. You watched him take a seat on the bed and dial Ellen. 

You listened idly to his side of the conversation, eventually sliding off the counter top and coming to sit behind him on the bed. You rested your head on his shoulder, sighing. It had been an oddly long day. 

“But I thought you said he was a good hunter,” he was frowning. 

You thought you heard her say “Hannibal Lecter”, and frowned too. Shit, was Gordon some kind of serial killer? You hoped not. 

Sam’s back was warm under your cheek, but his shoulders were tense. The last few weeks hadn’t been easy. You hadn’t known John Winchester well, but the time you’d spent with him had been… Well, it hadn’t been nice exactly, but you could see the love he had for his sons. You couldn’t imagine going through what Sam had, almost losing his brother and then really losing his father in the space of a week. You thought he was handling everything reasonably well, all things considered.

There’d been one moment, just a few days ago, when you’d thought he might crack. Dean had been out like a light in the back of the car, and you’d reached around to snap a photo of him squished up against the window. You’d laughed at it – he looked ridiculous. When you’d glanced up to show Sam, he was staring straight at the road, a muscle in his jaw twitching. 

“Alright?” you’d asked, and he’d nodded.

You’d frowned. “Want me to drive for a bit?”

This time, a head shake.

He wasn’t alright, you could see that clear as day. “Sam, pull over,” you said softly.

He’d swung the car off the road so abruptly you’d jerked against your seatbelt, simply sitting with his foot on the brake and both hands on the steering wheel.

You’d reached over and put the car in park, switching off the ignition. “Come on,” you’d said, “out.” 

He’d leant against the side of the car, arms crossed, staring out into the field you were driving past. 

“Interesting grass?” you’d asked, bumping your shoulder against his. 

He hadn’t smiled exactly, but his mouth had definitely twitched up a bit at the corner. You’d consider that a win. 

“Seriously,” you’d prodded. “What’s up?” 

“I don’t…” He’d trailed off, picking at a loose thread on his shirt. “I can’t…” 

You’d frowned as he’d shaken his head, looking anywhere but you. You’d told yourself something like this was gonna happen eventually, prepped the whole “I’m here no matter what” speech a thousand times, but now you didn’t really know what to do. The only thing you could think of was to put your hand on his back, rubbing slow, soothing circles like your kindergarten teacher used to do when you were upset. 

Sam’s voice was choked when he finally spoke. “I can’t lose you.” 

Four words, but you were convinced your heart had shattered right there. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, stepping to face him. You took his hands in yours, uncrossing his arms.

“How can you–?” 

You cut him off, shaking your head as you raised his hands to your face and kissed his knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere,” you repeated. “Nowhere you can’t follow.” 

He’d just nodded, pulling you into a tight hug. You breathed deeply, the strong smell of the most recent laundromat’s detergent all around you, your fingers bunched in the back of Sam’s shirt. 

“I’ve got your back,” you whispered. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” he murmured into your hair, “I’ve got yours, too.” 

“Good.” You’d pulled away, smiling as you stretched up to kiss him. It was soft and chaste, but that was all either of you needed. 

Then Dean had woken up and shouted at you to save your “romantic moments” for when you weren’t supposed to be driving. You’d grumbled that he was just jealous, which he’d vehemently denied amongst a lot of vomit noises. But later, as you’d waited for Sam to get back with lunch, he’d put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to his side. 

“I’m glad he’s got you,” he’d said. “Real glad.” 

“You’ve got me too,” you’d smiled. “Always.” 

He’d just stared at you for a moment, his arm still around you, before he’d cleared his throat and stepped back. “Thanks,” he’d muttered. “‘ppreciate it.”  

Now, with the same softness, you let your hand slide up Sam’s back and across his shoulders, then down his side. You brushed over his chest, down to his stomach, then back up to settle over his heart. You always forgot how big he was until you tried to get your arms around him, then it was like hugging a mountain. You loved it. 

He cleared his throat. 

You smiled, placing a soft kiss where his hair brushed the back of his neck, using your free hand to sweep it away. 

“Ok, yeah,” Sam said to Ellen. He sighed as your lips trailed higher, up under his ear. 

“Mhm, we will.” His fingers curled in the bed covers as you sucked ever so gently at the spot you’d found, the one you knew drove him insane. 

“Yep, alright. Thanks, Ellen.” A forceful swallow as you rubbed slow patterns across his front, nothing but the thin material of his shirt separating your hand from his skin. 

“Ok. Bye.” 

You smiled as the phone beeped, then was thrown to the bed. You eased your hand under his shirt, shivering as your fingers met the warm expanse of his torso. You could touch him like this forever, if you were given the chance. 

“What’re you doing?” he breathed, tilting his head back, baring his throat. 

“Kissing you,” you whispered as you moved down the muscle of his neck, “touching you,” as your hand ran gently over his pectoral, thumb grazing his nipple. 

“Mm, do I get to kiss you too?” 

You smiled. “If you ask nicely, yeah.” 

“Please?” 

“Hm?”

He sighed. “(Y/N), come on.” 

“Nope,” you laughed softly. “Ask nicely.” 

You felt his chest heave under your hand, and you pressed your mouth to his neck again. 

“Pretty please,” he murmured. 

You pretended to be considering this for a moment, dragging it out. Truth be told, you wanted him to kiss you just as much as he wanted to, but God it was fun teasing a bit. Especially like this, when it was you draped over his back, hinting at giving him hickeys, touching wherever you pleased. 

“Go ahead,” you replied. 

Before you could even draw another breath he’d turned and brought his hand up to cup your face, pressing his lips against yours. You let him lick into your mouth, his tongue sliding languidly alongside your own, the faint taste of beer still clinging to him. It was all so soft and gentle and full of care, everything you adored about him. 

He shifted back on the bed, turning to face you. Your hands were still under his shirt, arm still stretched across his body as he pushed against you. 

“I love this on you,” he murmured as his hands found the opening of his jacket, pushing it back over your shoulders. 

You smiled. “You want me to take it off?” 

“And this.” He plucked at the t-shirt you wore underneath, already coaxing it upwards. 

“Alright,” you laughed, batting his hands away. “Patience is a virtue.” 

“Whoever said that clearly never met you.” 

You looked away, hoping to hide the pink you could feel flooding your cheeks. However many times you did this, Sam never failed to get you flustered. You could sense his eyes on you as you stripped yourself of your shirt and his jacket, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine.

He started to shuffle back further onto the bed, one hand settling on your waist as he leant down to kiss along your jaw. You sighed, your mind halfway made up to just let him keep going like that. But no. 

“Uh-uh,” you said, pushing him gently off you. 

“What do you–? Oh.” 

You smiled as you slid off the bed, kneeling between his legs. You ran your hand up his thigh, deftly undoing his belt and fly. Heck, you’d had practice. “Can I?”

“Yes,” he nodded quickly. “God, yes.” 

You rolled your eyes, gesturing to his pants. “Well you gotta help me out a bit, yeah?” 

“Sorry,” he grinned, shedding them in one smooth motion.

“And those.” You pointed at his underwear. 

“Yes, your highness.” 

“Damn right,” you muttered as you kissed your way up his thigh, nipping gently at the skin of his hip. He smelled of the soap from last night’s motel room, faint but still there, a little sweat from the night’s earlier action. You could taste it where your tongue touched him, and man was it good.

His voice was breathy when he asked, “You gonna keep teasing me forever?” 

“Maybe.” You watched as goosebumps appeared where your breath tickled him, smiling to yourself. 

“Is that what’s got you smiling like that?” 

You sat back on your heels, arms resting on his knees as you looked up at him. He was so gorgeous, the shitty neon lighting of the room glancing off his hair in a kind of halo. You thought your next words through very carefully. 

“No,” you said slowly. “I’m thinking about how your cock’s gonna feel in my mouth. How you’re gonna say my name when I’ve got you so deep down my throat I’m almost gagging. I bet you won’t be able to keep your hands off me, I’ll make you feel so good.” 

Sam’s mouth fell open, his hands twitching where they rested on the duvet. 

“What do you think?” 

He swallowed. “I think I’m not even gonna take you up on that bet, I think you’re right.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Ok then.” You smiled, leaning forward and taking his dick in your hands. It was hard and warm to the touch, already leaking precum. You licked down, then up again, swirling your tongue around the head. 

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Please, (Y/N).” 

“You want me to suck it?” 

“Yes. Please.” 

You shrugged. “Since you asked so nicely.” You sank your mouth down onto him, your hands working what wouldn’t fit. Sam’s thighs tensed, and you moved. You could have stayed like that forever, you thought, just holding him in your mouth. You had half a mind to ask about that, actually. 

Sam moaned, his fingers twisting in the covers as you pulled your head back, then forward again, sucking and licking along his length. You’d wanted to take your time at first, tease him and see how long it took for him to be fisting your hair and moving your head for you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure. 

“Oh my God,” he whispered as you increased your speed, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. His dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, something you might have been embarrassed about in the past. Now it turned you on. 

You moaned, the vibrations jolting Sam’s hips despite his best efforts. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. 

“(Y/N),” he panted. “Shit, (Y/N).” 

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos – before you met him, that was – as his hand finally flew to your hair, his fingers carding through it. He was trying so hard to be gentle, and you loved him for it. 

“You look so hot like that,” he whispered. “How’re you so fucking hot?” 

You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You vividly remembered a conversation you’d had with Sam and Dean in the car once, where Dean had proclaimed that “there are blowjobs, and then there are blowjobs.” Sam had turned and looked at you, raising an eyebrow. Dean had yelled at you both and told you to get a room. What you were doing right now was definitely a blowjob, and you were loving every second of it. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Sam was panting, “(Y/N) oh my God I’m gonna cum.” 

His fingers tightened in your hair, his head thrown back and his cock twitching in your mouth. You went all in, sucking and licking and jerking with everything you had in you. 

Yes, you thought as you swallowed everything he gave you, basking in his muttered curses and groans like they were water and you were a wilted houseplant. This was heaven, right here. Every time you watched him come undone, you were completely convinced it couldn’t get any better than this. And without fail, the next time it did. 

He was still panting as you licked him clean, as gently as you could. His hand had settled on your shoulder, large fingers caressing your skin so tenderly it made you want to cry. 

“You ok?” you asked, sitting back. You patted his knee, watching his face carefully. He was flushed, a light sheen of sweat sticking some of his hair to his forehead. You hadn’t really paid much attention at the time, but now you wished you’d made him take off his shirt too. You loved watching his chest heave as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Ok?” he echoed, opening his eyes. He grinned. “I’m more than ok.” 

You smiled back, licking your lips. “Good.” 

“Come up here,” he said, patting his leg. “And take off your pants.” 

“Magic word?”

“Please.” Then, on second thoughts, “pretty please.” 

You laughed, but got up and shed your jeans anyway. You slid onto his lap, straddling his thigh and wrapping your arms around his neck. He kissed you softly, holding you close against him. The material of his shirt tickled your skin, very noticeably baring you from the silken warmth of his skin. 

“Off,” you said against his lips, plucking at the garment. 

“Off,” he repeated, tracing the line of your underwear. 

Almost perfectly in sync, the two of you shed the offending clothing. 

“I love this,” he whispered as he reached behind you, deftly unfastening your bra and pulling it away from you. He set it aside carefully, almost reverently, then bent his head and fastened his mouth to your breast. “Hey,” he said after a moment, frowning. 

You frowned too. “What’s wrong?” 

His finger traced a delicate circle over your other breast, tapping at a spot just above your nipple. “What’s this?” 

You squinted at the area, then laughed. The faded yellowish bruise wasn’t all that visible, but of course Sam would find it. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s a hickey. From you. From last time.” 

His face cleared. “Shit, didn’t realise it’d last that long. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” you smiled. “Makes me think of you whenever I see it.” 

“Maybe I should give you more, then.” 

Your grin widened. “Please.”

“Mm?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Pretty please.” 

“Ok.” He bent once more, sucking a matching spot into your unmarked breast. Then he added another one beside it, and a third right in the middle of your sternum. 

“No more low cut tops, I guess,” you sighed, stifling a moan as he moved downwards with another. 

“Shame,” he murmured into your skin, “I love those low cut tops.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“I’d be insane not to.” 

You laughed, then gasped as he ran his hand up your thigh. 

“Relax,” he said. 

“I’m relaxed, I’m so relaxed.” 

“Your heartbeat says you’re lying.” 

“That’s for you,” you told him, meeting his eyes. “That’s what you do to me.” 

“And this?” His finger darted between your legs, sliding easily with how wet you were. 

“Yeah,” you gasped, “all for you.” 

He cursed softly, then lowered you gently onto the bed. He propped himself half over you, half beside you, his hand stroking down over your stomach, your hips, around your pelvis. 

“Please,” you moaned. “Sam, please.” 

“Please what?” 

“Touch me. Please,” you added as an afterthought. 

“Nice manners,” he noted, rubbing achingly slow circles over your clit. 

You gripped his arm, fingers digging into the muscle as he bent and resumed his assault on your breasts. 

“You take such good care of me,” he continued, his voice muffled slightly by your soft flesh. “You always take such good care of me.”

“Cause I love you,” you whispered. 

“Mhm, you gonna let me take care of you too?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Of course.” 

“Good.”

You whined at the loss of his fingers on your clit, then bit your lip to quiet what would have been a loud moan as he slipped the finger inside you. The heel of his hand ground against your sensitive bundle of nerves, his finger putting just the right pressure in just the right places. You’d be a mess in no time, and you both knew it. 

“Fuck, Sam,” you panted, your back arching as you chased the feeling. 

“Hm?” His chest was warm where it pressed against your side, the muscles of his arm rippling subtly under the skin where your fingers dug into him. His free hand stroked your shoulder, his mouth busy littering your chest with hickeys. You could feel him growing hard again against your thigh. 

“Fuck me?” you half asked, half offered. 

He grunted softly at your words, nodding. “Got a condom?” 

“Mhm, yeah, sure. One sec.” You reached over to your jeans, rummaging in the pockets until you struck gold. Or foil, you supposed. You watched as Sam tore it open and slid it on, as easily as if he was tying shoelaces. He’d gotten stupidly fast at putting the things on, courtesy of the whole “Dean could get back any minute so let’s just be as fast as we can” element you so often found yourselves dealing with. You weren’t complaining. 

“Ready?” he asked, positioning himself between your legs. You rocked your hips gently, feeling his hardness pressed against your dripping centre. 

He nodded, then softly slid inside you. You both gasped at the feeling, the familiar stretch and the warmth of it. It was like he was made for you, the way he fit. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, your fingers twisting in the duvet. 

“Alright?” he asked, and you nodded. 

“Move,” you urged him. He did, slow and gentle. The light was doing that thing with his hair again, and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through it. Brush it off his forehead, kiss him there, smooth the faint worry line that seemed to be present more and more frequently. You’d do anything to make it disappear forever. 

“You feel so good,” he murmured, leaning forward to deliver more kisses to your chest. You were gonna have a whole forest of hickeys when you were done.  

“You feel good,” you replied. Your breath was coming short, a light sheen of sweat gathering over your skin even though you weren’t the one doing all the work. 

“Touch yourself,” he encouraged you, “I want you to cum while I’m fucking you.” 

“Shit, ok,” you replied, reaching down and running a finger in tiny circles over your clit. You loved how easily you could give and take control with him, how quickly and smoothly you could switch roles when you wanted to. It wasn’t just in bed, either, and you adored it. You adored him.

Your own hand combined with the steady thrusting of his dick was perfect. You weren’t going to last long, and judging by Sam’s shuddering breaths and muttered curses, your name sprinkled throughout, neither was he. 

“(Y/N), fuck,” he moaned, his abdominal muscles twitching and tensing. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasped as you felt the tightness coiling inside you, more, more, more– “Holy fuck, I’m gonna–” You released with a frantic cry of his name, your spine arching and your legs locking around his hips. You felt yourself contract around his dick, the stuttering of his strokes as he too reached his climax. 

He slowed eventually, coming to a stop as the tremors receded from your body and your brain returned to your head. You were spent, content to lie there with his warm, comforting weight on top of you until the world stopped turning. 

He rolled off you, peeling off the condom and tying it neatly before tossing it to the floor to be disposed of later. You turned to face him, your head resting on his bicep, his other arm draped over your side. His hand stroked your back, soft and loving. 

You smiled as you reached up, sweeping the hair from his face. “You good?” you murmured, cupping his cheek gently. 

He nodded, leaning forward to kiss you softly. You reciprocated, then stretched up and placed a kiss on his forehead. 

“How about you?” he asked. 

“I’m great.” Then you sighed, your thumb stroking tiny arcs across the curve of his cheekbone. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered. 

“Look at you,” he answered. “You’re so beautiful.”  

You closed the few inches of space between you, pressing your lips to his. “I really do love you,” you said as you pulled away. “So much.” 

He smiled. “I know, I love you too. More than anything.” 

You went to kiss him again, but his phone buzzed and you froze. He groped for it blindly, frowning. You’d both learnt the hard way that if his phone went off and Dean wasn’t with you, it was best to check it. 

Sam snorted, flipping it around for you to see. 

The text, from Dean, was two sentences. “Back in 1/2 hour. Get decent.” 

“Screw you, Dean.” 

Sam laughed, tossing the phone to the side. “I guess we’ve got half an hour.” 

“I’m taking a shower then,” you said. “I saw a vending machine, like, right outside, and I really want a soda right now.” 

“I’ll get you a soda if you let me take the shower with you?” 

“Deal.” You held out your hand as if to shake on it, but he kissed it instead. Yeah, “gentleman” was definitely high up on that list. 

[philaet0s]

Celebrity/Social Media AU - Part 8

Previous Part: Part 7

Next Part: Part 9

More written POVs! There will be one more and then back to the fake twitter updates aha

‼️ mature content ‼️

Simon

Baz said he had a “surprise for me for my birthday.” I would say that the presents –plural–, lunch in my favourite restaurant in the city, afternoon tea at the Ritz –I don’t like when Baz makes me spend the night here, but god, do I love the food and tea–, and the two hours we spent wrapped around each other on the couch during which he read to me were already more than enough, but it seems he has something else in mind. And it’s something we’re doing outside the house!

It’s actually kind of rare for us to do that. Leave our place. We go to the restaurant once in a while, but that’s all. It gets messy, Baz gets recognised, and we both prefer staying inside anyway. I only like being outside if I can run around in a large field like an overexcited puppy, and that’s hard to do in central London.

We go to his recording studio. Uh?

I follow him, my mind reeling with ideas. It’s rare for him to take me here. It’s only happened a handful of times since we’ve been together. That’s his workplace; I don’t make a habit of taking him to the kitchen of my bakery either.

I don’t even question the fact that it’s 1 in the morning and the studio has been closed for hours. I suppose when your family owns it, you can come whenever, though I already know he’s going to get a text from Fiona in the morning when she finds out the alarm was deactivated in the middle of the night.

He sits in the chair in front of the computer and searches for a specific file. He hasn’t told me what I should be doing, but I suppose if we’re here, we’re going to be listening to music, so I come and stand behind him. The sound is better here than when you’re sitting on the couches by the wall, or so Baz said last time we came. (His musicians were there too last time, though. It was a proper album listening party. We had food and drinks, it was great.)

“There you go,” he says, as he clicks on an audio file. He pauses it before I can hear the first note. “I wrote this for you. I recorded it before I went on tour. I’m… very excited for you to hear it.”

My face splits in a grin. Oh, how much I love the songs he writes for me…

I lean down and kiss his cheek, which is a little pink. He’s so cute.

He pushes the chair away from the table, forcing me to step aside. Then, he pats his thigh. “C’mere, will you.”

Gladly.

I sit on his lap, and he closes his arms around my waist. He has to fully extend his arm to be able to click play.

Music immediately fills the room. It’s not the gentle kind of production I was expecting. Baz’s songs for me –the ones he makes just for me, not all the songs he writes about me– are often ballads. He’s romantic like that.

Not this one.

That’s something that could be played at a club. Or one of his concerts. It’s unusual, but I like it.

The lyrics are less surprising than the production. They’re brilliant, his lyrics are always brilliant, and convey a perfect blend of love and lust, though the rasp in his voice definitely emphasises the lust part.

So does his hand on my thigh. He’s tapping the rhythm of the song. It’s a very innocent touch. It’s driving me insane.

When the music stops, I clear my throat and try to collect myself. (It’s hard. I’m sitting on him for fuck’s sake.)

“It was very good.”

“Very good? That’s all?”

His finger is doing a lot more than just tapping my thigh. He slid his hand down, his entire palm cupping the inside of my thigh. He moves it up and down absentmindedly.

His index finger is now dangerously close to my crotch. Not close enough.

I swallow. I feel like a teenager, but can I really be blamed? It’s been a while. And he’s so… And the song was…

“I… I liked the… lyrics.”

“Yes? Anything else?”

He slides his hand up. He’s properly touching me now. I don’t even have enough clarity to be embarrassed that I’m already rock hard. “The chorus. It’s… memorable.”

He unbuttons my jeans. His lips are on my neck. “Y– Your voice. I like how… how much deeper it… fuck…” His hand is cold. “...sounds. During the chorus.”

He hums, and that could honestly finish me off.

“You like my voice deeper?” he asks. In that deeper voice. As he strokes my cock.

Goddammit.

He nips at my neck. “I have an idea. Come with me.”

And just like that, he takes his hand out of my pants. I might just explode.

“Baz.”

I see him press a few buttons before he takes my hand.

“Come with me,” he repeats.

He’s walking up to the door that leads to the other side of the studio, behind the glass panel.

I have no clue what he has in mind, but what choice do I have but to follow him?

He promptly presses me against that stupid glass panel and crashes his lips against mine. That’s better.

—————————

You guessed it, the next part will be smut

I’m posting it later today!

[fan-goddess]

Could you do Tom Bennett X corruption/innocence and stepcest for kinktober?

Authors Note: Of course! Though because stepcest wasn’t in my original list, I won’t be writing it whilst I do this. I have nothing bad towards it I just don’t want to write it if I haven’t established I’d write, if that even makes sense? Hope you still enjoy it though!

Warnings: Corruption, innocence kink, some blasphemy, oral f receiving, choking, claiming, almost a yandere sort of thing if you squint cause it gets sorta dark at the end (if I forget/miss any let me know!)

Taglist: @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @mochi-rose, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity, @omgbrcat, @madelynwal,

Tom Bennett remembered the day you moved next door as clear as day.

He remembers looking out the top window of the house at the sound of chatter down bellow, and seeing you right then and there practically seemed to take his breathe away.

He remembers that you wore a light pink sundress whilst you helped your family out with the moving boxes, and most clearly of all how it flowed with the slight breeze, rising up slightly to show your no doubt soft thighs to him.

After he’d gone downstairs and insisted he’d help you with the boxes, claiming a pretty lady like yourself shouldn’t risk dirtying her palms with hard labour, the blush you rewarded him with was all worth it.

Ever since then, it was moments like that what brought him all that closer to the heaven between your thighs.

Complimenting your non-revealing clothes that every time he sees you in them makes him want to tear them off and see what’s underneath. Insisting he helped you with carrying anything into the house just so he could get a look at the layout for any future visits.

It was how he had access to your house currently.

“Let me carry that for you love! Can’t have a pretty girl like you getting yourself all dirty now can we!” He grins, taking ahold of the bag on your shoulder like clockwork and walking towards the door with you trailing behind him like a puppy on a lead.

“Thank you Tommy, but you do know you don’t need to always do this?”

“Nonsense love! Gotta look after my pretty woman!” He insists, smirking to himself when he sees the familiar light blush taking over your cheeks as you unlock the door for him.

Tom walks over the dining table as usual and begins to unpack the bag. It’s just regular food items. Apples, some meat products, eggs, that sort of stuff. Yet still, he takes his time unpacking it all to stare at you just standing there pretending not to watch his arms whilst he stretches them purposefully to put stuff in the cupboards.

“Need help with anything else love? Mummy and daddy gone for the day have they?”

“Oh yes they’ve gone to visit nana in Norwich, as she hasn’t been feeling well lately according to her letters. But Tommy I don’t need anything else! Really!” You insist, shaking your head to emphasise.

“Oh well love, it’s a good thing I think your being a bad girl and lying to me…” Fuck… if this goes South he’ll never forgive himself. But it’s now it never really, Tom thinks stepping towards you slowly.

“I-I don’t know what you mean-“

“Oh I think you do!” Tom insists, practically stalking towards you till your backs against the doorframe, and his own body leans over yours with an arm over your head for that extra affect.

One good thing about the position. He can see your chest rapidly rising up and down with your shallow breaths you cannot seem to be able to hold.

“I think you’ve been a naughty girl indeed. A naughty girl who goes as far as touches herself to the thought of her neighbour…” It’s a wild shot in the dark, even he has to admit as he murmurs it into your ears. But by the way your eyes widen and sink to the floor while you bite up lower lip hard between your teeth, he suddenly feels like he’s hit a bullseye playing darts drunk.

“How did you know…” You whisper, your eyes locked only on the floor by his feet. But when he places a finger on your chin to lift your head and meet your eyes, he almost chuckles seeing your innocent eyes staring so intently at him.

“It doesn’t matter right now little one. All that matters, is this.” Tom feels his heart may fall from his chest with how hard it beats, as he leans his head forward and connects lips with you.

He can tell your inexperienced. Your clumsy with how your lips move whilst his own hold back dramatically in the intensity he wishes to unleash on you.

Yet your hands seem to have a mind of their own.

One clasps around the hair on the back of his neck to tug slightly, whilst another clenches on the front of his plain shirt.

It seems that you are as keen for this as he is…

“What an eager girl…” Tom grins, detaching himself from your lips and smiling at your whine of annoyance.

“Maybe we should go to your bedroom little one. I’m curious to see if the carpets match the drapes…”

The blush Tom is rewarded with as he leads you to upstairs, nearly is better than what he wishes to achieve.

When he gets up the stairs with you in tow, Tom looks for you to lead him to where he needs to go. And it is with great amusement when he gets lead into a room right of the landing, that is bright pink and filled to the brim with books of all titles.

“My little ones a little scholar is she?” Tom muses, teasing you as he leaves lingering kisses on your lips, the sound of which echoes in the small room. He barely thinks there’ll be enough room for the two of you there, but even he thinks it’s a bit too far to suggest your parents bed. Not with what he want to do to you anyways.

“Tell me little one. Have you read on any human anatomy before?”

“Yes Tom. I have. Though not much. Daddy didn’t like me reading them as he said they were too dirty for me.” You murmur, clinging to his clothing almost desperately.

“Well. What I am about to teach you, will be more helpful than any of those books you’ve ever read.” Tom whispers, slowly unbuttoning the clasps on your dress to reveal yourself to him.

And when Tom gently positions you on the bed where you’re left laying naked for him to ogle and admire, Tom feels practically breathless.

Your tits and naked body feels like such a temptation, that he feels at liberty to compare it to Eve and the apple. Only his desired fruit is a lot more wet and sweeter than some normal apple…

When he kneels and leans forward and begins to taste you, he can’t help himself from groaning and taking your body in his hands to keep you still whilst you thrash above him. Your hands gripping tightly in his hair whilst you cannot seem to handle this new sensation running through your whole body.

“Oh fuck Tommy so good please please pleeease I can’t- I can’t-“ You scream, “S-somethings happening! I think I need to pee” You whine some more. It’s unsurprising that a girl like yourself would know what is happening. Yet even still Tom takes sick pleasure in depriving these forbidden desires from you. Knowing he’s the one whose taught you this feeling. Knowing he’ll be the only one showing you this feeling.

When he feels the sudden flood of flavour of your juices as you cum, the death grip he has on your thighs will no doubt leave marks as he makes sure he’s licked every once of your pleasure from you. And when he’s hears the small whimpers of overstimulation, that’s when he knows he’s only just begun to achieve what he wanted.

Tom stands near to full height before he begins to undo his belt and his trousers. The smug and satisfied smirk on his face going unnoticed by you as you all but ogle his erection that strains from his underwear.

“W-will it fit?” You whisper, your voice sounding hoarse from your onslaught of shouts and screams from earlier.

“Doesn’t matter either way little one. I’ll make it fit whether your pretty little cunt can take it or not…” The dark tone he uses sending shivers even down his own spine as he takes his cock in hand and tugs it a couple times till he’s fully hard, before kneeling slightly and directing it to your already dripping again entrance.

As Tom enters you slowly, his eyes train only to look at your face, no matter how badly he wants to see your cunt swallow him. As the sight of your face forming that flushed dazed look is honestly better than anything he’s seen in his life. And it only gets better when he begins to slowly shallowly thrust into you in a strange mercy move, and your eyes shut tightly and your mouth makes an ‘O’ shape whilst you moan.

It’s as if he’s died and gone to heaven.

“Such a good girl for me…” He groans, finally looking down and seeing how a slight ring of your juices has already formed on his cock. “Swallowing me so well…”

He doesn’t speed up as much as he wants to. Only a little so he can wait and hear you beg for him.

“P-please Tommy! I need more!” There it is, he thinks, seeing your open your eyes slightly to look at him all prettily whilst they appear to water in front of his very eyes. “I neeeeed it!”

“Well then, who am I to deny my pretty little thing what she wants…” Tom grins, before thrusting his whole cock inside of you quickly and already picking up the pace to thrust at a steady pace.

The sounds of your whines and whimpers as you try to contain yourself makes Tom smile satisfactorily while he all but ruts into you. And when he places a hand on your throat in a no doubt claiming manner, the sounds you reward him with are music to his ears.

“Good girl… such a good girl…” Tom groans, his thumb tracing illegible things on your swollen clit that leaves you practically screaming beneath him once more.

“T-Tom, t-that feelings happening again!” You cry, digging your blunt nails into the skin of his back that causes small sharp grunts to leave him the deeper you push them into his skin.

“It’s okay little one… you can cum… do it now!” With a deep almost possessive growl coming from deep within his chest, Tom can feel your tight cunt clench around him, and his own release comes soon after as he locks his legs around your own to keep him as deep as possible.

“You were such a good girl for me…” Tom murmurs, dotting wet kisses along the length of your naked torso. He even smiles faintly when he nibbles slightly on your skin at random times and small hesitant noises chirp from your throat when he does so. “Such a good girl…”

“Tom…” You murmur, your eyes barely keeping open as they attempt to look at him all serious. It was adorable to look at really.

“Yes pretty girl?”

“What going to happen now…”

Tom looks up at you with dark hooded eyes, and when he meets your own, he can’t help himself from cupping your jaw firmly with his palm to make sure you’re awake and looking at him with wide eyes.

“What happens little bird, is that i’m gonna look after you now. And nobodies gonna touch you, not when I’m here. Not ever… not over my dead fucking body…”

[dailyanarchistposts]

E.1.1 Is industry the cause of environmental problems?

Some environmentalists argue that the root cause of our ecological crisis lies in industry and technology. This leads them to stress that “industrialism” is the problem and that needs to be eliminated. An extreme example of this is primitivism (see section A.3.9), although it does appear in the works of “deep ecologists” and liberal greens. However, most anarchists are unconvinced and agree with Bookchin when he noted that “cries against ‘technology’ and ‘industrial society’ [are] two very safe, socially natural targets against which even the bourgeoisie can inveigh in Earth Day celebrations, as long as minimal attention is paid to the social relations in which the mechanisation of society is rooted.” Instead, ecology needs “a confrontational stance toward capitalism and hierarchical society” in order to be effective and fix the root causes of our problems. [The Ecology of Freedom, p. 54]

Claiming that “industrialism” rather than “capitalism” is the cause of our ecological problems allowed greens to point to both the west and the so-called “socialist” countries and draw out what was common to both (i.e. terrible environmental records and a growth mentality). In addition, it allowed green parties and thinkers to portray themselves as being “above” the “old” conflicts between socialism and capitalism (hence the slogan “Neither Right nor Left, but in front”). Yet this position rarely convinced anyone as any serious green thinker soon notes that the social roots of our environmental problems need to be addressed and that brings green ideas into conflict with the status quo (it is no coincidence that many on the right dismiss green issues as nothing more than a form of socialism or, in America, “liberalism”). However, by refusing to clearly indicate opposition to capitalism this position allowed many reactionary ideas (and people!) to be smuggled into the green movement (the population myth being a prime example). As for “industrialism” exposing the similarities between capitalism and Stalinism, it would have been far better to do as anarchists had done since 1918 and call the USSR and related regimes what they actually were, namely “state capitalism.”

Some greens (like many defenders of capitalism) point to the terrible ecological legacy of the Stalinist countries of Eastern Europe and elsewhere. For supporters of capitalism, this was due to the lack of private property in these systems while, for greens, it showed that environmental concerns where above both capitalism and “socialism.” Needless to say, by “capitalism” anarchists mean both private and state forms of that system. As we argued in section B.3.5, under Stalinism the state bureaucracy controlled and so effectively owned the means of production. As under private capitalism, an elite monopolised decision making and aimed to maximise their income by oppressing and exploiting the working class. Unsurprisingly, they had as little consideration “first nature” (the environment) as they had for “second nature” (humanity) and dominated, oppressed and exploited both (just as private capitalism does).

As Bookchin emphasised the ecological crisis stems not only from private property but from the principle of domination itself — a principle embodied in institutional hierarchies and relations of command and obedience which pervade society at many different levels. Thus, ”[w]ithout changing the most molecular relationships in society — notably, those between men and women, adults and children, whites and other ethnic groups, heterosexuals and gays (the list, in fact, is considerable) — society will be riddled by domination even in a socialistic ‘classless’ and ‘non-exploitative’ form. It would be infused by hierarchy even as it celebrated the dubious virtues of ‘people’s democracies,’ ‘socialism’ and the ‘public ownership’ of ‘natural resources,’ And as long as hierarchy persists, as long as domination organises humanity around a system of elites, the project of dominating nature will continue to exist and inevitably lead our planet to ecological extinction.” [Toward an Ecological Society, p. 76]

Given this, the real reasons for why the environmental record of Stalinist regimes were worse that private capitalism can easily be found. Firstly, any opposition was more easily silenced by the police state and so the ruling bureaucrats had far more lee-way to pollute than in most western countries. In other words, a sound environment requires freedom, the freedom of people to participate and protest. Secondly, such dictatorships can implement centralised, top-down planning which renders their ecological impact more systematic and widespread (James C. Scott explores this at great length in his excellent book Seeing like a State).

Fundamentally, though, there is no real difference between private and state capitalism. That this is the case can be seen from the willingness of capitalist firms to invest in, say, China in order to take advantage of their weaker environmental laws and regulations plus the lack of opposition. It can also be seen from the gutting of environmental laws and regulation in the west in order to gain competitive advantages. Unsurprisingly, laws to restrict protest have been increasingly passed in many countries as they have embraced the neo-liberal agenda with the Thatcher regime in the UK and its successors trail-blazing this process. The centralisation of power which accompanies such neo-liberal experiments reduces social pressures on the state and ensures that business interests take precedence.

As we argued in section D.10, the way that technology is used and evolves will reflect the power relations within society. Given a hierarchical society, we would expect a given technology to be used in repressive ways regardless of the nature of that technology itself. Bookchin points to the difference between the Iroquois and the Inca. Both societies used the same forms of technology, but the former was a fairly democratic and egalitarian federation while the latter was a highly despotic empire. As such, technology “does not fully or even adequately account for the institutional differences” between societies. [The Ecology of Freedom, p. 331] This means that technology does not explain the causes for ecological harm and it is possible to have an anti-ecological system based on small-scale technologies:

“Some of the most dehumanising and centralised social systems were fashioned out of very ‘small’ technologies; but bureaucracies, monarchies, and military forces turned these systems into brutalising cudgels to subdue humankind and, later, to try to subdue nature. To be sure, a large-scale technics will foster the development of an oppressively large-scale society; but every warped society follows the dialectic of its own pathology of domination, irrespective of the scale of its technics. It can organise the ‘small’ into the repellent as surely as it can imprint an arrogant sneer on the faces of the elites who administer it … Unfortunately, a preoccupation with technical size, scale, and even artistry deflects our attention away from the most significant problems of technics — notably, its ties with the ideals and social structures of freedom.” [Bookchin, Op. Cit., pp. 325–6]

In other words, “small-scale” technology will not transform an authoritarian society into an ecological one. Nor will applying ecologically friendly technology to capitalism reduce its drive to grow at the expense of the planet and the people who inhabit it. This means that technology is an aspect of a wider society rather than a socially neutral instrument which will always have the same (usually negative) results. As Bookchin stressed, a “liberatory technology presupposes liberatory institutions; a liberatory sensibility requires a liberatory society. By the same token, artistic crafts are difficult to conceive without an artistically crafted society, and the ‘inversion of tools’ is impossible with a radical inversion of all social and productive relationships.” [Op. Cit., pp. 328–9]

Finally, it should be stressed that attempts to blame technology or industry for our ecological problems have another negative effect than just obscuring the real causes of those problems and turning attention away from the elites who implement specific forms of technology to further their aims. It also means denying that technology can be transformed and new forms created which can help produce an ecologically balanced society:

“The knowledge and physical instruments for promoting a harmonisation of humanity with nature and of human with human are largely at hand or could easily be devised. Many of the physical principles used to construct such patently harmful facilities as conventional power plants, energy-consuming vehicles, surface-mining equipment and the like could be directed to the construction of small-scale solar and wind energy devices, efficient means of transportation, and energy-saving shelters.” [Bookchin, Op. Cit., p. 83]

We must understand that “the very idea of dominating first nature has its origins in the domination of human by human” otherwise “we will lose what little understanding we have of the social origin of our most serious ecological problems.” It this happens then we cannot solve these problems, as it “will grossly distort humanity’s potentialities to play a creative role in non-human as well as human development.” For “the human capacity to reason conceptually, to fashion tools and devise extraordinary technologies” can all “be used for the good of the biosphere, not simply for harming it. What is of pivotal importance in determining whether human beings will creatively foster the evolution of first nature or whether they will be highly destructive to non-human and human beings alike is precisely the kind of society we establish, not only the kind of sensibility we develop.” [Op. Cit., p. 34]

[mixelation]

is this true you seem to know things https://www.tumblr.com/luminarai/725654142779097088/red-blood-cell-capacity-of-modern-menstrual

i mean.... yes, both the paper itself and a sci-comm article are linked....? the paper doesn't appear to be on scihub and i'm not at work to try and access the article itself, but i did read the summary and a couple of press releases

i'm not familiar with the literature to confirm if it's the first study that used human blood, but multiple press releases say it's industry standard to use saline (salt water) to test absorbency. i suspect that is because it's hard to get your hands on blood if you're a sanitary pad company (not that they couldn't do it or develop an equivalent-- just that storing blood without it clotting and the red tape and training to get it and use it are a lot more complicated that using saline). a few notes i think the tumblr screen caps are missing:

First, the point of the study seems to be testing newer period products like menstrual cups to help doctors take patient history, rather than proving a point about blood vs saline. Usually what tips a doctor off that a patient's period is too heavy is that the patient will say they're using some excessive amount of pads/tampons. Given lots of people use other things now, and pad/tampon companies are adding gel and shit to improve absorbency, doctors need to know what would count as "excessive." The conclusion on the summary is:

This study found considerable variability in red blood cell volume capacity of menstrual products. This emphasises the importance of asking individuals about the type of menstrual products they use and how they use them. Further understanding of capacity of newer menstrual products can help clinicians better quantify menstrual blood loss, identify individuals who may benefit from additional evaluation, and monitor treatment.

Secondly, the study used expired packed RBCs (red blood cells), which is NOT the same consistency as period blood, or even regular blood. Packed RBCs have had most of the blood plasma (the liquid part of blood) removed, so the cell are more concentrated. I think they also add stuff to prevent clotting, but the blood was old so who knows what was going on in it. Period blood has all sorts of other stuff in it besides just blood, and people with excessive bleeding may also have clots. That being said, in the theguardian article, the researcher they interviewed noted that packed RBCs are closer than saline.

[btshoseong]

👣. !!: BURN THE STAGE EP.1 ‧₊˚

↺ 💌 ࣪ ˖ ∿ author’s note , @ FINALLY A PROPER UPDATE FOR YOU GUYS LET’S GO 🥳🥳

RM: “You do shows in the US with an audience of over ten thousand? And the tickets sell out? Yeah, I’ll show you.”

BIGHIT ENTERTAINMENT

PRESENT

I’D DO IT ALL

2O17 BTS WINGS TOUR PART.1

???: “Sensation BTS is hitting ���Not Today’. They’re getting ready to take over the US in just over two weeks. They’re going huge!”

???: “Get this. Their arena shows in Chicago, New York and L.A. They’re all sold out.”

???: “BTS is the first K-pop idol group to be awarded at the Billboard Music Awards.”

???: “The Top Social Artist Award had been awarded to Justin Bieber for the past six years which makes it more meaningful.”

???: “Fans from Bolivia, Peru and Argentina are now here, too.”

???: “BTS just announced a series of brand new albums and the internet has lost all chill.”

???: “This team first became popular abroad so they’re already doing a world tour visiting thirteen countries.”

???: “BTS. If you don’t know them, you need to know them. They’re a K-pop group, a Korean pop group, and they’re huge on social media.”

???: “They were the only one who had triple millions.” — “Holy moly.” — “Historic moment.”

2O17.O1.O7

THE WINGS TOUR, D-42

The members are all sat in a circle on the floor as they are being recorded.

SUGA: “What I can say for sure is that there’s a reason we do this. I want this to have a reason.”

J-HOPE: “I think fans would be curious about what we do backstage.”

RM: “I think it has to be more raw.”

J-HOPE: “What happens before we do make-up, what we do when we’re at hotels.”

SE3OUL: “I think so too. I mean, we keep up this strong image, but I want them to see our vulnerable sides, moments where we struggle just like anyone.”

RM: “Yeah… honestly, like, sometimes we argue. It happens, you know?”

SE3OUL: “We just need to show them plainly, without hiding anything.”

RM: “There needs to be a meaning so they have a reason to watch this.”

SUGA: “That’s how people think of us. They think we show our lives without filtering anything, but we hide a lot of things. I tried really hard so that my weaknesses don’t show. We should get rid of all of that and show them the raw side.”

SE3OUL: “I think from their perspective, it would also help them. Because online – you know, people are always showing their best side, but if they know that there are moments where things aren’t as perfect, it’ll feel more real.”

RM: “When we’re under pressure, for example, we get annoyed at each other. We get sensitive. I think we need to show them some of that, too.”

SUGA: “During our performances or preparations, we always show…”

SUGA, SE3OUL & RM: *at the same time* “The finished product.”

SUGA: “Right. Honestly, we don’t want to show them the entire process because there are a lot of things that we’re not good at.”

RM: “What I’ve always emphasised ever since we made our debut is that we want to interact man to man. I struggle internally every day. I actually have these kinds of thoughts and have these other sides. But if I let them see it, they might worry and they might not like me. But I really want to break out of that.”

SE3OUL: “There’s this sort of uneasy feeling lurking a lot of the time. As artists, let’s say you do something. If someone has a negative view of it, it looks bad. But then if you see the positive, it can be good. It tends to depend on a person individually.”

SUGA: “To our fans, at least, we try really hard to show them everything honestly. I want them to think, ‘Oh, I didn’t know they had that side.’ It’ll be an opportunity to show them more by filtering less.”

RM: “Our biggest strength is that human touch and we can show them more of it. So they think, ‘they’re just like me.’ They get irritated under pressure and they also cry.”

SE3OUL: “That’s right. I want them to be able to relate to us, to see us as their equal and not to put us above them or on a pedestal. We’re simple humans at the end of the day. We laugh, we cry, we argue.”

RM: “Honestly, I was only lucky to find what I wanted to do earlier in life. I was lucky to find good friends and that’s how I made it here. If I get frustrated during work, I just read webtoons for five hours. And some days I don’t want to work.”

RM: “People think I always work hard, but sometimes I just lie down and sleep. Things like that.”

SUGA: “They said that we’ll cry if we watch this 10 or 20 years later. After I heard that, I could imagine myself watching this in 10 or 20 years. When I see this camera, I feel like I’m going to cry. It feels strange. I think it’s going to be a life…”

SE3OUL: “Already?”

ALL MEMBERS: *bursting into small laughs*

RM: “We haven’t done anything yet.”

RM: “But I know what you mean.”

SE3OUL: “Yeah, we know.”

???: “But what if BTS advances to the attack?”

INDIVIDUAL INTERVIEW PHASE

RM: “I’m the leader in BTS and my name is RM. I wish something spectacular would happen, but at the same time… erm…” *kisses teeth* “I hope nothing goes wrong.” *laughs*

SUGA: “I’m the rapper in BTS. I also write music. Yeah that’s what I do.”

JIN: “I’m the big brother of BTS and my name is Jin. I’m in charge of having the amazingly handsome face. Are you, by chance, a celebrity? You’re so handsome. Needless to say.”

J-HOPE: “I’m J-Hope of BTS. I’m like the person that connects the younger and older members.” *chuckles* “Yup.”

SE3OUL: “Hello, I’m the main vocalist of BTS and my name is Se3oul. Uh…. I dance, I sing, I rap, I write music. What can I say? I’ve got it all.” *cute shrug*

JIMIN: “The youngest isn’t doing his job as the youngest, so I’m doing it for him. I’m Jimin.”

V: “I’m 22… wait. Am I 23 this year? I’m V. I’m living a nice life.”

JUNGKOOK: “Introduce myself? Hello, I’m Jungkook of BTS.”

2O17.O2.O4

THE WINGS TOUR, D-14

Pre-production Rehearsal

The members are gathered around on sofas eating.

JIN: *multitasking as he eats + checks his phone* “Here’s the cue sheet. Not Today-”

JIMIN: “For today?”

JIN: “Yes. Am I Wrong, Crow Tit, DOPE, War of Hormone, 21st Century Girls.”

RM: “Stigma comes last in the second part.” *also checking the cue sheet* “Taehyung, come with me.”

J-HOPE: “All we have to do is make them sing along.” *talking to seongie beside him + laughing*

SE3OUL: *side eyeing him tbh*

JIMIN: *laughing + leaning into seongie from his other side* “Hyung, he looks like he wants to kill you.” *talking to hobi*

V: *amazed at seongie when he notices too* “Wah, hyung….”

SUGA: “He does it so Hoseok-ah knows he doesn’t find him funny.”

SE3OUL: *smiling through a mouth full of food + showing a finger heart to yoongs as an indication that he’s right*

RM: “I feel drowsy and watch stuff with no purpose if I stay in the studio.”

JUNGKOOK: “The moment I opened the Japanese book I felt so sleepy.”

JIMIN: “I just want to sleep.”

SE3OUL: “No, the best way for studying is with me.” *talking with his mouth full*

JIN: “Aish…” *disgusted lmao* “Can you not talk with your mouth wide open? Chew your food properly and eat.”

SE3OUL: “Why is this guy talking? Isn’t his mouth always full of food?” *smirking as he talks to jm + pointing to jin*

JIN: “What? ‘This guy’? If you don’t watch your mouth…” *about to pop a vein*

RM: *laughing as he consoles jinnie* “He’s doing it on purpose. Let it go. But yeah,” *changing subject* “I get all ready and went to Starbucks and sat down. I opened my book and I realised I didn’t bring my pencil case.”

A few of the members laugh. Everyone is doing various things.

SE3OUL: “Leave it up to this guy and he’ll make his name on the Guinness book of world records under ‘Most Forgetful’ and forget he even owns the title.” *shaking his head in amusement as he finishes the last of his food*

The video cuts to them now talking about the humidifier in the room.

J-HOPE: *pointing at the humidifier* “Some steam and some don’t. What’s the difference?”

RM: “I feel good when it steams. It feels more humidifying.”

SE3OUL: “I like to close my eyes and imagine I’m going on a walk through a misty park when it steams.” *currently doing exactly that*

RM: “Is that some sort of meditation technique?”

The video cuts to Jeongguk now placing a napkin over the humidifier where it releases steam.

JUNGKOOK: “Create fog like with dry ice.” *stands + hovers his hand over his mouth*

ALL MEMBERS: *watching intently*

JUNGKOOK: “You shouldn’t trust~” *mimicking jinnie’s awake*

ALL MEMBERS: *immediately burst into fits of laughter and clapping*

The video cuts to Jeongguk now near the camera which is recording them.

JUNGKOOK: “The camera was on, guys.” *informing his hyungs* “I didn’t know.”

SE3OUL: *was busy on his phone until he hears jk and his head immediately perks up, looking at the camera* “The camera’s on? It’s filming?”

JUNGKOOK: “Yes.” *making his way back to his seat + beginning to clean up his rubbish*

JIMIN: “You didn’t know?” *watching seongie in amusement as he too starts to clean up his rubbish*

SUGA: “Wait, the camera’s on?” *another hyung who wasn’t aware*

SE3OUL: “Ah, you guys are so ill informed.” *tsking as he cleans up his space* “You thought the camera was off and your true colours started to shine. Look at this mess you’ve made.” *cheeky bastard*

SUGA: *quickly beginning to join in on the cleaning*

JIMIN: “Oh? Look at them. Hyungs, why are you suddenly cleaning up?” *having fun teasing*

SUGA: “Jimin-ah, you don’t clean up after eating?”

SE3OUL: “Don’t put on an innocent act now after you made me throw your rubbish in the bin by acting all pouty.”

JIMIN: *in lighthearted disbelief* “What? All pouty? Everyone here cleans up apart from the two of you. Don’t get it mixed up. Everyone but the two of you.”

SUGA: “Jimin, you should clean up after eating.” *good at acting + scolding*

SE3OUL: “Maknaes these days are so lazy…”

The video cuts to the members now heading onto an empty stage for sound check.

???: “Cut. Five seconds. Two, one, three.”

The video cuts again to the members talking backstage.

JIMIN: *talking + putting on his blazer* “And then it’s War of Hormone.”

J-HOPE: “No, War of Hormone comes last.”

SE3OUL: “It’s after the medley of the title tracks.” *informing*

JIN: *talking to jm, accusatory* “You didn’t memorise your cue sheet?”

J-HOPE: *talking into his mic + pointing* “Look at him. You don’t deserve to be a singer. He hasn’t memorised the cue sheet yet. What do we do?”

SE3OUL: “I told you to memorise it before anything, Jimin-ah. You forgot again? You need to set reminders on your phone.”

JIMIN: *also talking into his mic* “I’ll be sure to learn it.”

The video cuts to the vocal line watching the rap line practice Cypher pt.4 on stage. Vocal line is playing and joking amongst themselves before we transition to Hoseok.

J-HOPE: “Today? Rehearsing on the stage here really feels like we’re performing in the concert hall. Like we’re in Gocheok Sky Dome, right?” *placing a hand on jm’s shoulder as seongie stands beside him with crossed arms, amused*

J-HOPE: “I’m not asking him because I already know his answer and it’s useless.” *talking to the camera about seongie*

SE3OUL: *whispering in jm’s ear which causes the younger to laugh*

JIMIN: “No, not at all.” *finally answering hobi’s question with a cheeky smile*

J-HOPE: *laughing at the camera before resting both hands on the two members’ shoulders* “Right, let’s have a talk somewhere.” *guiding them away jokingly*

J-HOPE: *can be seen in the close distance wrapping his arms around their necks* “How can you do this to me?”

SE3OUL: “It doesn’t feel like Gocheok Sky Dome at all. This guy just says anything.” *speaking loud enough for camera to pick up on it*

The video cuts to the three members now standing in front of the camera again.

SE3OUL: “You see, when we do rehearsals, we usually… we practice the day before to be sure it’s like the real thing. But it’s nice to practice two weeks ahead. What do you guys think?”

J-HOPE: *laughing + patting his shoulder* “They couldn’t hear you at all thanks to Yoongi hyung.” *yoongs is talking into the mic*

SE3OUL: *looking in the distance to where yoongs is* “HYUNG, SHUT UP I’M TRYING TO SPEAK!!” *yelling but yoongs continues talking* “RAHHHH!” *roaring now, causing hobi and jm to fall into him as they laugh*

SE3OUL: *arriving back to the camera* “He’s trying to look so professional. He’s not usually like this.”

INDIVIDUAL INTERVIEWS

SUGA: “The total number of concerts during THE WINGS TOUR is as many as the number of concerts that we gave so far, I was told.”

JIMIN: “Throughout this tour, first of all, we’ll go to many different countries though we can’t go to every country. We have fans that support us from afar so it’s nice that we can go and meet them. I believe they expect something from us – something that they can’t usually see. Like the performances that they only saw on TV from afar. I want to show them as is.”

SE3OUL: “From an outsider’s perspective, this tour… it can look like a big leap. All of a sudden? Since when? These kinds of reactions may be common, but it’s also a new experience for us to learn about ourselves. Right now we’re doing thirteen countries, but with time, I want to meet fans from everywhere at least once. I think our perseverance has always been our biggest strength.”

The video then cuts to Jimin practicing his solo stage for the concert.

STAFF: “Yes, thank you.” *calling a cut to the practice now*

JIMIN: *bowing to the staff* “Yes, Jimin of BTS.” *now jumping off stage*

JIMIN: *surrounded by other staff now* “How was it?” *adjusting his mic* “Huh? Ah, I totally let go, right?”

STAFF: “But you’ll have other dancers.” *explaining*

JIMIN: “Tell them to do it this way. If it doesn’t work, I’ll go in.” *high fiving staff*

STAFF: “Good job, good job. I’m trusting you. You’re the only one.”

The video cuts to Hoseong as the staff with Jimin leaves.

SE3OUL: “I think we might have to slow it down here.” *showing the move he’s talking about* “The run isn’t working. It’s too quick.”

STAFF: “We can place it on the dancers if you want to stick to just vocals.”

SE3OUL: *trying to practice the move again* “Ah, seriously…” *annoyed at himself + grabbing a towel to wipe off his sweat* “No, let’s switch to a walk. Staying stagnant isn’t an option for me.”

STAFF: “We can try a walk with the dancers running on either side. It’ll create a better focal point.” *discussing ideas*

The video then cuts to Taehyung as Hoseong continues to practice with the staff watching.

V: *drinking water + on stage* “We’re not practicing live, are we?” *proceeds to walk around and do vocal exercises*

V: “Can’t be removed~” *practicing his song*

The video continues into showing Taehyung and Jeongguk both practicing for the upcoming concerts individually.

JUNGKOOK: *lying down* “No… I didn’t plan well.” *wiping sweat off his face* “I slept too early and woke up too early. I didn’t get to sleep before the rehearsal.” *now sitting up* “But the live performance was good.”

The video cuts to Namjoon.

RM: “Every member has a keyword. For example, Jeongguk, just like you saw on the stage, his keyword is Begin. He joined BTS when he knew nothing and he grew up here. It’s the story of the beginning of his life. And I think about myself a lot. So they said that could be my keyword.”

RM: *writing on a board* “It’s my life. The graph of my life. That’s right. Life has ups and downs.” *arms crossed*

The video cuts to Jin.

STAFF: “We spent a lot of money on this scene.”

JIN: “Oh, really?” *asking into the mic*

STAFF: “Yes.”

JIN: “It has to be more money than Hobi’s.”

STAFF: “The most money went into the resources.”

JIN: “Then please don’t tell the members.”

The video cuts to Jin now practicing his song for his stage before we switch to Hoseok who is being helped into a jacket on stage.

J-HOPE: “Oh, this is hard.” *talking about putting on the jacket in time*

INDIVIDUAL INTERVIEWS

J-HOPE: “The BTS that I thought… ‘The BTS that I saw on social media is not this.’ We don’t want to deliver that. We want to make sure they feel our energy.”

RM: “It’s a show. A performance. We don’t want the audience to come and say, ‘I wasted two and a half hours of my life.’ We want them to get more value, show them everything we prepared and see how they react to it.”

The video cuts to Yoongi with Hoseok and Hoseong (who are seemingly always together).

SUGA: *as hobi holds onto both of his shoulders* “He’s the man of THE WINGS TOUR.” *pointing*

SE3OUL: *shoving hobi aside and walking up close to the camera* “That’s not right. ARMY, you’ll keep your eyes on me at the concert, won’t you?” *rizzing up the camera*

SUGA: “Yah,” *trying to pull him away* “They won’t even see this until after the tour’s finished. Stop wasting your breath.”

J-HOPE: “No, no. The real man of THE WINGS TOUR is Hoseong-ah.” *grabbing seongie’s shoulders now*

SE3OUL: *grabbing his face in a jokingly aggressive way* “Is this your way of confessing to me?” *now pretending to lean in*

SUGA: “Yah! What’s wrong with you guys?” *shoving them both away*

Hoseok and Hoseong burst out laughing as Yoongi walks up closer to the camera.

SUGA: “You see… this- this is something I have to go through every so often in this group. They start acting like wild animals without supervision.” *disappointed shake of the head*

The video cuts to Jin.

JIN: “It’s been a long time since I sang so many songs. My legs are shaking.” *laughing* “I’d better work harder.”

JIMIN: “Your legs are shaking already?” *walking past onto the stage*

JIN: *pointing* “He has to say that.”

JIMIN: “It’s because you’re old.”

JIN: *pointing again as he talks to the camera* “There’s always one person that will diss you. It’s usually the younger ones together, Seongie included. This is the one time he’s with the maknaes. If you’re so good, you do it.” *complaining*

JUNGKOOK: *overheard* “What’s wrong? My Jin hyung is handsome.”

JIN: “Yah… there. Isn’t he an uptight friend?” *pointing at jk and laughing, satisfied*

SE3OUL: *the man who is everywhere joins the duo, wrapping his arm around jk’s shoulders* “Oho, our maknae. Aren’t you trying too hard to get into our hyung’s good books?” *leading him away and leaving jinnie behind dumbstruck*

JIN: “Did you see that? This is what I meant. He’s getting in with the younger members, this guy born in ‘94. Ah, he’s sharp. I’ll show him.” *following the rest onto the stage*

INDIVIDUAL INTERVIEWS

JIMIN: “It’s going to be a long journey. I hope that there is something at the end of this journey. I’m doing this tour with that in mind. It’s not that I’m already thinking about the end, but I think I hope I see a better me at the end of it.”

JIN: “What BTS tries to accomplish is… actually, we accomplished everything we planned. We made most of our dreams come true. Now we have to move on towards a new dream. And I want to be in it. That’s my dream.”

The video cuts to Jimin, Jin and Namjoon practicing.

JIMIN: *dancing + singing spring day* “From the beginning. Snow comes down. And it comes down slowly again.”

The trio are slowly joined by the rest of the members. Hoseong joins in on the little dance.

SE3OUL: “Everybody I miss… yeah!” *silly lil dance*

JIN: *laughing* “That was a good one.”

RM: *amused leader* “One more time! I miss… yeah!” *following the younger members’ lead*

JIMIN: “Do the dab. You need to come forward for the second part.” *talking into his mic*

INDIVIDUAL INTERVIEWS

JIMIN: “The members are my motivation. They’re one of my biggest motivations. I enjoy it when I do things with these people. They make me think that we can do so many things. And that motivates me more. Just having them by my side encourages me as well. Really, these guys make me move.”

SE3OUL: *long silence + pondering* “Well… when I first joined BTS, I don’t think I had too much passion for myself. My focus was always on my parents, and I don’t regret that, but I really started living for myself because of these guys. They showed me a new purpose. They gave me a dream, a reason to look forward to each new day.”

JIN: “We want to be the number one song on Billboard. Give a concert in a really big concert hall. That’s also part of my dream, but if I must share something more personal, my dream is to perform with these guys for a long time.”

The video cuts to the members practicing together now and getting a feel of the stage.

INDIVIDUAL INTERVIEWS

SUGA: “I also wonder how much more I will have grown after one year.”

RM: “I’m hooked on workwear lately.” *showing his clothes* “I wonder if you’ll still be hooked on it later in time.” *speaking to his future self* “I hope you are. People say it looks good on you.” *laughing*

JIN: “I hope my face isn’t as puffy. I danced hard, too. By then, I’ll probably dance better than RM.”

J-HOPE: “I’m not sure who I really am yet. What I can tell you for sure is that through this I want to find out what kind of person I am. I hope this process helps me find who I am.”

SE3OUL: “I always wonder about these things. A day, a month, a year… have I changed from the me that I used to be? Can people notice a difference? So I think this will help me find an answer. Seong-ah, let me speak to you casually. You better be working hard, huh? Don’t get lazy just because you’ve made an achievement or two.” *threatening + laughing*

JIMIN: “I don’t know how much time it will take to fulfill it, but I hope you become a good singer.”

JUNGKOOK: “Jeongguk, big bro. You’re 22 now, so I’ll call you big bro. I only have goals, I don’t really put things into action. I hope you’re putting your utmost effort into practice by that time.”

V: *pursing lips* “Hello, I’m the V from last year. I’m trying to do my best to grow a bit more each day. I’m trying to focus a lot. If there’s anything I hope is that you don’t get injured. I hope the tour ends safely.”

RM: “You’re not really that smart. And you’re not so selfless either. I hope you know your limits well. But don’t stay within those limits. Overcome the limits each day.”

SUGA: “I hope we don’t become stagnant. Neither BTS nor I. It could be slow and difficult, or we might enjoy it, but we can go on slowly experiencing all of that.”

The video cuts to a clip of the boys practicing Wings together, goofing around and having fun.

INDIVIDUAL INTERVIEWS

JUNGKOOK: “I’ll try to be the you that you are now. Because I’m becoming you.”

JIMIN: “I hope people want to see you just because you’re Park Jimin.”

V: “I hope you’re a better person now.”

SE3OUL: “I hope you’ll continue to stay humble,” *a slow, almost shy smile is approaching* “But work hard to a point where your face is plastered everywhere.”

J-HOPE: “I think I’m a loved person.” *laughing*

JIN: “I’m sure you’re still very bright and childlike. I have no doubt.”

RM: “For those wishes and good fortunes to come to you, I hope you’re able to overcome your lazy moments. So that when you see this message, you can say ‘I worked hard.’”

SUGA: “It was always… Let’s take it slow and do what we can. I said that was our goal.”

The first episode concludes with a glimpse of ARMY cheering for the boys at a packed concert venue.

💬 — HOSEONG’S TAGLIST.

@pandorasword , @ateezsora , @bts-dream , @fairiepoems , @kaitieskidmore97

[in-newjersey]

On similar topics to the prior, I also like to point out that subtle differences in line delivery - again, something more or less up to the performer/director - can completely change ways that that suggests characterization

Let's explore pieces from Michael in the Bathroom and the prior scene:

"Did you ever wonder what it's doing inside you?" - this is how George often said it, and can be taken multiple ways. Obviously, the next line suggests that Jeremy took it as 'he's not worthy for it hence Michael is jealous' whereas, as we know, Michael is trying to say that this can't be its intended use to just end up in a random high schooler

"Did you ever wonder what it's doing inside you?" - saw a community theater production on youtube where the Michael actor emphasised 'doing,' which COMPLETELY shifts the meaning. This implies that Michael is first and foremost worrying about the purpose of the SQUIPs, and the way it's changing Jeremy from the inside. Jeremy's next line, therefore, suggests that instead Michael is jealous of the ways he's personally improving (social standing, posture, skills etc)

Right there - a pair of lines from which a lot of analyses hinge on interpretting the cracks in their friendship - one choice of word emphasis can fundamentally re-direct what it says about the way the character works on the inside

Another more general example (going to keep using MITB because it's The Song), how the actor's voice and gesturing in the song change things.

George in Two River, while certainly heartbroken, certainly came across a lot less timid and anxious than Broadway. On the Broadway recording, the tempo is a little slower (and plays back and forth), he's using more head-voice than chest voice (so less 'angry' and forceful), and in some ways his voice is a lot smoother than Two River. This is the same actor only a few years apart, who originated the character, and already two different productions make Michael seem pretty different, especially how one might intuit things about the character

The biggest, most obvious example out there is the VERY early demo with Will Roland as Michael, where the delivery is completely different. He's sad, sure, but it's a lot more bitter and sarcastic than heartbroken and panicky. The only main musical difference is that it's in a lower key; the rest of it is how the actor chooses to pronounce and intone things, and it feels like a completely different song.

There are some other productions out there with various other takes: I saw a cabaret-style version where the singer decided to make MITB a comedic(?) number, which, while weird and (imo) kind of missing the point, was totally possible; the audience was laughing along. Then you have the Australian production, where the actor decided to have MITB come off as a furious number, almost yelling with how hard he was using chest-voice throughout. Then you have that one large-scale youth production (I forget the company name), where the actor went a little closer to Two-River George for general delivery, but leaned into just full-on ugly crying through the end of the song, which again, changed how the whole thing came off (this is honestly how I personally like to perform it, but again, I don't think that would work for every actor/production)

(there are also, of course - and no disrespect intended, acting skills vary - quite a few high-school productions online where the singer is really just doing his best to make it through and hit the notes, and that's fair too, it's a challenging song for an inexperienced singer)

Anyway, as a followup to how wide a range of character traits are up to the actor, even the same script can be turned and interpretted quite differently! This isn't even getting into non-verbal ways you can have characters interact that might suggest completely different interpretations

[putschki1969]

Hi Sarah

How are you?

After watching numerous live performances in Japan and outside of Japan, I have come to the realization that the Spacecraft worked hardly to ensure the success and fame of Kalafina. However, I have come to believe that the type of music performed by Kalafina may not appeal to everyone or align with the preferences of the Japanese people. As a result, my sentiments have shifted, and I now feel sense of respect and gratitude towards Spacecraft and their work over the 10 years. I believe that if they weren't good, Yuki Kajiura-san would not have remained with them for such a significant duration. It's important to note that these thoughts are solely based on my personal feelings and not backed by any research.

Hello there!

So sorry, it took a while to get to this message, I have been very busy lately.

I am good, thank you for asking😊 Hope you are doing well too!

Everyone who has been following my blog for a few years will know that I am probably one of Space Craft's biggest advocates. I've certainly had my complaints about them and I am by no means saying that they are without fault or the best agency out there but in the grand scheme of things, they have always done a decently good job at representing Yuki Kajiura, Kalafina and now Wakana. There have really been no public scandals that would warrant us deeming them a "horrible" or "bad" company. Once in a while, there are whispers of outlandish rumours but nothing so far has been substantial or even remotely incriminating.

Have they made stupid decisions? No doubt. Have they made big mistakes? Absolutely! Could they have handled the disbandment better? For sure! Would any Japanese talent agency have done a better job? No!

And that's the point. People need to realise that all Japanese talent agencies are cut from the same cloth. None of them are particularly great. Most are actually awful. A majority of them are run by middle-aged dudes who have been in the industry for way too long. Lots of fragile sensibilities and old-fashioned mindsets. Just look at the trajectory of Hikaru's solo career so far. It's a whole mess. But as long as you don't hear stories of exploitation or sexual harassment, I would say it's a win.

As you have surmised, there is no way that someone as strong-minded and assertive as Yuki Kajiura would have ever remained with them for such a long time if they were as horrible as many fans make them out to be. Wakana also wouldn't have chosen to stay with them if they didn't have some redeeming qualities.

And I will never get tired of emphasising the crucial role that Space Craft played in Kalafina's popularity. Say what you will but Space Craft built the "Kalafina" brand as we know it. It's correct that Kalafina's type of music isn't exactly mainstream so if it hadn't been for Space Craft's persistent marketing to push them in a more "mainstream" direction, Kalafina would not have been able to attract such a wide audience. The tons of merchandise, the frequent releases, the constant touring, the regular event appearances, the more elaborate stage productions, all of this helped catapult Kalafina to a Budokan level and beyond. They never took a full dive into the idol world but they certainly borrowed some methods. However, throughout all of this, Kalafina's core "image" remained intact, they allowed Yuki Kajiura free rein in terms of music and until the very end, the beautifully layered vocals were the main selling point for Kalafina. So yeah, even if it sounds weird to some people, at the end of the day I feel grateful to Space Craft.

[codeandcanvas]

Experiments on rainy Sundays in a village in the South of Germany

A cup of coffee in which a couple of spoons of vanilla ice cream from a local manufacturer float, finally some cool hours.

A messy sleeping schedule still leads to enough rest after all, some thoughts about how change is the driving force, how entropy is itself time, and the slow realization of how many projects pop up during a rainy Sunday in a vilagge in the South of Germany.

Maybe I will put together a Bookwyrm instance to amuse myself with, but listening to my inner nation of thoughts and voices I find myself aware of how further fragmentation of the digital shadow across more and more accounts leads to a strange effect where each fragmentation becomes its own identity, each its own shadow missing parts from all other fragmented shadows, filling the gaps (maybe if not paying attention? maybe?) with whatever is there, around you.

So maybe, instead, I am not the person who wants one tool for one task after all. Maybe I am the type of person who will experiment with tools for tasks, whether these tools are fit for, ready‑made and jury‑rigged, and the kitchen sink, too.

Maybe identity is much less about words after all.

Maybe I will look into putting together a tumblr template, inspired by the, to me, outstanding ones used by @aminotes and @searchsystem, respectively and use that.

In general, since I have put quite a bit of work (and money) into making do with the fragmentation (and storing most of these shadow fragments into my own hypertextual core system made up of Microsoft’s OneNote and OneDrive), I think I also want to emphasise that I really believe that a person like me should experiment more with how far a system can be pushed and hacked, instead of replacing this exploration of applying your own ideas and desires with the acquisition and use of a new product.

This is basically my process these days: I get the thoughts out, and then I realize that I can build it. I can already feel a structure forming itself.

I mean, let us just say that you want to use your tumblr in such a way that everyone who looks at your account can scan it for hashtags you have provided for the posts you did and do.

So, if you want to do a currently reading or book review hashtag, why not make that available on the landing page, and each article page?

I mean it. This makes so much sense to me. SInce, after all, this is my after hours blog about what I do with codes and canvases, you see?

And honestly, it has been a decade* since I really dug into how these platforms have their own little snippets and codes, and tumblr stands, heads and shoulders, above all the others who have simply abandoned customization in the same way companies install one‑ply toilet paper, to save on money.

Now, where did I put my tumblr themeing notes again?

In my OneNote, of course, lol

*I am exaggerating, I did a website during my graphic design study, got a grade for it, too

[haggishlyhagging]

From the moment of her untimely death and the decision to publish her Memoirs the process of misrepresenting Margaret Fuller began. Whereas during her lifetime Margaret Fuller was known as both an intellectual woman and a woman of personal magnetism and charm, after her death in what appears to be a fairly consistent pattern for the construction of images of women who have been visible and who have been accorded some status, her personality, and not her intellectual accomplishment, became the focus of attention on her. But emphasising personal qualities at the expense of intellectual ones is not the only bias apparent in the representation of Margaret Fuller, or for that matter, any other woman of comparable note. A particular personal profile, which may bear little resemblance to the reality of the woman's life but which proves to be productive in patriarchal terms, frequently emerges.

In the case of Margaret Fuller, it was the Memoirs of Margaret Fuller Ossoli published in 1852 and edited by such reputable men of intellectual stature as Ralph Waldo Emerson, William Henry Channing and James Freeman Clarke, which began the printed distortion of her personality. As Urbanski says, ‘This work became the literary canon that established Margaret Fuller as an "arrogant old maid", aggressive and ugly, the archetypal feminist whose need for attention was channeled into the feminist movement. In fact’, she adds, ‘this depiction of Fuller established the feminist archetype that remains today’ (1980, p. 4).

Margaret Fuller's life has been the subject of many books and biographies, and the Memoirs, edited so soon after her death by men of distinction who knew her, has usually been accepted as an authoritative source. The emphasis and values inherent in it have been built upon, elaborated and amplified by subsequent scholars without necessarily being questioned. But the pattern which the editors set for the interpretation of Margaret Fuller was one in which her conversational ability was prominent, and one in which her writing - where included - concentrated on her literary rather than her social criticism; little attention is paid to her feminism or to Woman in the Nineteenth Century. Unfortunately, says Urbanski, the editors did not merely publish Margaret Fuller's letters and journals; they used their position as gatekeepers not just to select, but to change, her writing. They constructed an image of Fuller that does not have its origins in her work or her life. A comparison between the accounts in the Memoirs and the original documents reveals not only that much of the material was ‘destroyed and defaced’ by the editors, but that they ‘also rewrote Fuller's work, changing her writing style’ (ibid., p. 5, my emphasis).

And if this isn't enough, let it be noted that they then criticised that writing style!

-Dale Spender, Women of Ideas and What Men Have Done to Them