#don't get me wrong this is a positive thing!

[wizard-of-interesting-failure]

"I don't understand. Why isn't he getting up?"

"Wh- you killed him!"

"Don't be silly, death isn't real."

"You cast Finger of Death!"

"I cast Lightning Bolt too; they name spells after fake shit all the time."

"Lightning is real too!!"

"Oh come on. Next you'll be telling me color is a thing."

"...have you ever actually been outside this cavern?"

"What's a cavern?"

"It's where we are right now!"

"Odd name for it, but yes, of course I have. Been this way, that way, through there is a lovely group of giant spiders..."

"We, ah. Might have killed those on our way here."

"Don't be silly, death isn't real."

"...right. Where do you think we came from?"

"Eh, somewhere. Weird shit shows up all the time."

"I-"

"Oh! Your friend there startled me and it totally slipped my mind; would you care for some tea? I don't drink it myself, but I keep some on hand for guests."

"...okay, listen. These are the Caverns of Chaos. Everything in here is self-replenishing. The prevailing theory was that they existed to protect a central chamber. We've spent weeks down here slogging through unimaginable horrors to make it there and you're going to, what, play dumb?"

"Okay now you're just being rude. I am not dumb! There might not be much to do around here, but I do my best to keep my mind sharp. I'd like to see you figure out as much as I have about the ever-shifting layout of the world!"

"We did! That's how we got here! Have you never tried scrying the outside?"

"Scrying spells are some sort of prank, best I can tell; they never seem to do anything except give me a headache."

"Cast one up."

"I don't really want to give myself a-"

"Just do it! At least 2000 meters."

"Alright, but I don't see...what..."

"..."

"...colors?"

"Yeah, the whole dungeon is monochrome for some reason, we think-"

"Lightning?"

"Well, if there's a storm, I suppose-"

"Death?"

"...death?"

"There's...more like your friend."

"What do you mean-"

"Why aren't they moving?"

"I don't-"

"I'm moving. I can move. See? They look like me. Why aren't they moving?"

"They're- there are skeletons? We just came from-"

"Am I going to stop moving?"

"No, you-"

"Why isn't your friend moving?"

"..."

"...he's...'dead'. Isn't he. I 'killed' him."

"...listen, just calm down, we can-"

"Oh, yes, of course! I could never figure out what these spells for making 'un-dead' were for, but they must be for fixing this! I'll just-"

"NO!"

"But he's-"

"We're handling it!"

"No you're not! Whatever you're doing, it's not working."

"How can you-"

"You're trying to draw power from something that's not there. I've done it a few times, don't feel bad, it's a common mistake."

"I'm drawing power from my goddess! There's no way she's..."

"What is a goddess? Is it that little symbol you're carrying around? It doesn't seem to have any power in it."

"...it...why can't I feel her?"

"Just let me do it, I can-"

"We're not letting you turn Steve into some kind of undead abomination!"

"Wh- but he wasn't dead before!"

"He was alive, you stupid thing!"

"Right, not dead. Un-dead. I'll just make him un-dead again and then we can..."

"Why has she forsaken me?"

"We can..."

"Why won't she answer??"

"Color...lightning...death..."

audible weeping

"They're like me...why aren't they moving?"

"It's probably just the Caves messing with the divine connection, we should-"

"Should I not be moving?"

extended wailing

"Is un-dead not like 'alive'?"

"Listen, I know we didn't have this problem before, but-"

"Is there something wrong with being un-dead?"

"OF COURSE THERE IS, YOU STUPID UNDEAD THING! STEVE IS DEAD, THE GODDESS WON'T LISTEN TO ME, AND YOU'RE JUST...just..."

"...just what?"

"..."

"What am I?"

"..."

"WHAT AM I???"

the cavern shakes

"Listen, just calm down, we'll-"

"Why is he dead? Why are they all dead?"

"All wh-"

"The ones you made me scry on!"

"Oh my god, we forgot about-"

"Why aren't they moving??"

"We don't know! What else did you see?"

"Colors, lightning, death..."

"What else??"

"Colors, lightning, death..."

the lich collapses into a fetal position, rocking back and forth

"Listen, this is important, you need to-"

someone attempts to shake the lich. A sudden pulse of darkness slams them into the opposite wall.

"Colors, lightning, death..."

"Just calm down, we can-"

"GODDESS? WHERE ARE YOU??"

"Colors, lightning, death..."

the party leader buries her face in her hands. The healer weeps and wails. The lich, seemingly catatonic, continues mumbling to himself. This goes on for a while.

"..."

"Right. Okay. That's enough of this. We're taking Steve's body and leaving. We wouldn't have a chance against a lich in this state anyway. Keep trying to revive him as we go, we'll-"

"...lich?"

"Yes, yes, you don't know anything about anything, it's very funny, har har, we're done here. Go back to giving yourself headaches or whatever it is you do all day."

"I'm coming with you."

"...what?"

"You know what I am. You know about places that aren't 'caverns'. You know about colors, lightning, and death. I need to come with you."

"No offence, buddy, but you don't exactly seem like adventuring material."

"Please! Don't you need to find out why all those people are...'dead'? I can speak with dead, I guess, if it's a real thing."

"..."

"We are not taking this THING that killed Steve with us!"

"...we probably are going to need help with whatever is going on up there."

"He might be lying!"

the party leader gestures at the utterly guileless lich. The healer turns away.

"...fine."

"Thank you."

"Just...keep him away from me."

The party improvises a stretcher as the lich gathers up his meager possessions. A thick silence reigns as the group shuffles out the only exit, the lich awkwardly following at a distance.

"Wait, I forgot my maps-"

"We'll be fine. Just stay back there, okay? You've caused enough trouble for one day."

Nodding hesitantly, the lich steps over the threshold, leaving his cavern for the last time.

It turns out that the lich the adventurers had been hired to slay had never actually killed anyone before until the impulsive paladin of the group swung first. Now, as the healer tries to revive them, the rest have to calm the ancient undead mage down from what is undeniably a panic attack.

[daryldove]

Distraction

daryl x gn!reader

summary: you keep daryl company daryl while he recovers in the farm house

“cut it out,” you giggle, squirming under daryl's hand as he jabs your side playfully. after offering to take the injured hunter some dinner, you manage to convince him to let you stay and keep him company, something he'll deny enjoying if anyone asks. truthfully, you two had become rather close after everything. although from his perspective, not by choice. “You're supposed to be resting, mister,” you scold him with a smirk as you adjust your position against the headboard.

“can't when ya botherin’ me.” you gasp dramatically at his sarcastic comeback. daryl is incredibly charming, even when he didn't mean to be. it's one of the things you quite admire about him, as well as his sarcastic humour, something the others didn't get to witness to the extent you did. you're not even completely sure if they knew it existed. but he knew how to make you laugh, and he seemed to enjoy it.

“is that what this is now? and here I thought you loved my company, dixon.” that earns you a scoff in response. “admit it,” you continue with a proud tone, “im your favourite in the group.” he doesn't respond right away, forcing you to turn your attention from staring ahead to check on him. the sudden, unexpectedly soft look in his eye has you momentarily speechless.

“what?” you internally thank any god out there that your voice doesn't crack in that moment. gaze flicking over his dirty face, you can't help admire how oddly adorable he looks bundled up under sheets and wrapped in bandages. you feel your heart clench. eventually, daryl shrugs it away with a grunt, shutting himself back off. it's something he does often. you can practically see the thought piling up in his mind, but he always holds back. it stirs an unaccustomed feeling in your gut. complicated.

something feels different this time. maybe because for the first time since you met him, you feel safe. vulnerable. he's lying injured before you, both protected by four walls. it feels wrong to take advantage of this moment to open him up, but maybe that's what it'll take. “are your stitches bothering you?” his hand stops yours from reaching out to touch the bandage around his head, freezing you in place. his hand is rough and warm around yours, short circuiting your mind for a split second. you don't pull away, despite him probably expecting you to. instead, you lean closer towards him.

daryl's eyes flick between yours, as if answers to his curiousity reflects in them. you want to tease him, say something out of pocket that will turn him speechless. instead, you move your hand to rest against his cheek. he practically flinches as you cup his face, reacting like he's undeserving of the softness of your touch. but it doesn't appear unwanted. never.

“how are you feeling?” you ask with a light voice. it's not about his injuries, and he seems to pick up on that. he nods slightly and clears his throat before answering. “good… fine.” your smile grows at his shyness.

“that so?” finally, you let yourself be playful, reassured that he won't be so easily scared off. his gaze is intense and unwavering, and you find yourself unable to resist anymore. leaning down until your lips are barely inches apart, you give him just enough time to pull away. part of you expects him to, like the wall you spent all this time breaking down will be pitched back up in seconds. but he doesn't, nor does he shout and fling himself off the bed to avoid you like your anxiety is convinced he would. so you finally press your lips against his.

daryl's eyes widen in surprise and disbelief while yours subconsciously flutter shut. kissing him feels exactly like you imagined. you can feel your cheeks heating up once you finally pull away, a nervous giggle escaping you at how dazed he looks.

“what?” a smile creeps onto your lips as you question him again. you can practically see daryl's mind spinning as he speechlessly stares up back at you. there's an unreadable look in his eye as seconds pass. unable to help it, your eyes fall to his lips. this time, it's him who pulls you in with a large hand on your neck. his boldness pulls a surprised moan that he swallows.

“guess i am a good distraction,” you whisper after eventually pulling away, scoring a rare, soft chuckle from the hunter.

“guess so.”

[lesbianherald]

Based Jayce take tbh….also I’m gonna confess this on anon but one of my most pretentious takes when it comes to fandom is that everything would be way easier to enjoy if ppl understood story structure a little more. Like Jayce’s arc is a negative arc. He sucked on purpose! If you had bad feelings about him that was intentional and okay (I do think Jayce hate was overblown but I also get why it existed. Like the audience was just picking up on the feelings the show was putting down). But he was definitely Like That for a reason! Usually in good writing, characters are tools for the narrative first you know…you don’t need to justify his actions to like Jayce because he’s fictional and he’s not a real person youre stanning. But also fandom is for fun so I know this take is pretentious but also it’s my truth. My story structure….my characters who are intentionally challenging my theme….my character arc….

NO NO BUT YOU ARE COOKING ON EVERY LEVEL !!!!

(Note: This randomly turned into a very hasty analysis of the shots used in the bridge scene? Because I got on a tangent about how we interpret visual storytelling as well and oops!)

Story structure is so overlooked. The role characters are supposed to play in an overarching narrative is overlooked. So much gets ignored in the way information is presented both in the story structure and visually that sometimes it frightens me and it makes me really bummed! And it's nobody's fault! Most of us live in a society that devalues art and literacy on purpose!

I don't think it's pretentious to wish people better understood the building blocks of the story or at least understood how to take in general arcs. And I think if they did as a whole most fandom spaces would be a lot more interesting and have a lot less bizarre takes/infighting.

I also think that - where arcane's writing can get weird and murky - the visual language will cover it. (Almost to an extreme.)

It makes me think of one of my favorite scenes in the whole show and how misinterpreted it gets and how quick people are to defend jayce here despite how much it is playing on the themes of the show and how clearly he is painted as in the wrong both by the writing and the shots ok fuck -

I think all the time about the imbalance of power represented by that insane low angle on Jayce. You know what fuck it. I'm going to go get it. Fuck. This is about to become a whole thing. Okay.

If I brought an angle like this into a classroom setting, I would be laughed at for it being too obvious. But its one of my favorites because its so visceral. In fact, I've shown this to a lot of friends - the reaction to this shot is usually an audible "Woah!" or even nervous laughter! Because clearly! He's supposed to be intimidating here. This is supposed to be like. Oh. He is not who he used to be. Oh. Oh no. Its so co clearly a representation of power and corruption you may as well stamp it on his forehead.

He's not only Jayce here, he's a representation of piltover as a whole - in its physical and political positions over Zaun. In a position of power over someone he's close with, who just verbally told someone he would "understand." Now we are seeing that he very likely wont. (He will! But right now, we are supposed to be with Viktor in this scene. We are supposed to become convinced he won't right with him!)

Note that the angle we get for Viktor is way less extreme. Way more eye level. And less centered. I could go on about this too. But oooh boy. Like! Clearly we are supposed to be more with him in terms of who we find rational. Clearly he's the voice of reason here. We are level with him. He is at a safe distance. We are seeing how he is looking up at jayce without looking down at him.

In this shot, he is someone we as an audience are level with, who is gathering information, making a decision. He is remaining more measured than I think the audience is supposed to be given the angle we're getting on jayce.

The only time we do get the "reverse" of that Jayce shot on Viktor is when he is quite literally standing out of the frame almost immediately. Whose furious with the position Jayce is putting him in. This is Right after Jayce says, "They're dangerous." He's gathered the information he needs. He sees Jayce for what he is. Somebody he cannot trust. And he refuses to be put in this lower position.

Jayce is not supposed to be the one we are rooting for here. He is the person we are supposed to be disappointed in. We are supposed to question him here. This isn't only dramatically spelled out in the narrative but also in the shot choicesss!

And then we have the apology -

That's why i always question why people are like. Okay but he apologized. When the apology is framed like this! We don't even get to see viktor's face because the damage is done!! JAYCE ISNT EVEN LOOKING AT HIM !!!! It doesn't matter. We don't even get full access to Jayce here! What's at the center of this shot is the barricade that Jayce has ordered!!! This makes the apology, and "I've had a lot on my plate" purposefully look ridiculous in the context of the Narrative here! It's not enough!

Viktor is DYING. And jayce is standing here all prim and proper, with the Talis symbol very visible in that fuckass suit, saying he's had a lot on his plate. We're very clearly not supposed to look at this and go awww! baby boy <3. If this apology was a meaningful moment for either of them that changed either of their minds - it would not be framed like thisssss. These words are empty in the context of it all. Jayce may be genuinely sorry, but he's accidentally revealed way too much about how he views Viktor's people. Even if he didn't mean to. Even if he didn't realize how deeply his biases ran.

And then we have Viktor lying. Viktor knowing he has to go about this alone. And this is the shot. This is the moment of fracture. Viktor looking back at him in disgust with Jayce's barricade in the background. HES ALONE!! JAYCE HAS FAILED HIM !!! This is so critical in understanding Viktor's entire everything moving forward, and it's so so critical for Jayce as well.

People talk a lot about that moment where jayce has his hand on Viktor's lower back because yaoi but that screencap is so hard to get because that moment is almost immediately interrupted by a protestor from zaun throwing a Molotov cocktail in their direction! And the touch, that reluctant familiarity, despite the conflict, gets broken.

Something that I think gets overlooked is Jayce's face after the (Molotov?) gets thrown by a protestor. ITS ANOTHER LOW ANGLE LIKE!!! Once again. Highlighting the power he has here.

We see Jayce in season 1 act 1 really highlighted with a lot of high angles. A lot of doe-eyed wonder. He looks young. Sweet. This is not the same jayce and it is very very clear in the way he is shot. This is the point !!!!!.

There are a lot of scenes i see misinterpreted but this is the big one. And its one of my favorite scenes. Because he's so wrong here! And he doesn't really fully grasp how much so yet.

I love jayce. I love my complex man. Because here's the thing. He needed this low to reach the character highs he does later. Jayce being as loving and determined to make things right as he is in season 2 wouldn't be nearly as compelling or tragic or exciting were he not like this in season 1. It's brutal to watch him get punished by the narrative! But it's also narratively satisfying!

Anyways anon i agree wholeheartedly sorry i made it into a whole thing.

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

i have the flu rn and keep thinking about jason todd taking care of you when youre sick, hes intent on just bringing you food cause red hood cant protect gotham if he has a cold. then he sees you, red nose, messy hair, a sniffling mess, and when you look at him like a sad puppy and mutter out, “please just stay for a bit” your voice sounding dry and weak. he cant do anything but oblige your request.

oh no! i'm sorry you're not feeling well--- have this silly little fic like chicken soup for the soul!

___

Okay, this will take five minutes. Easy, easy. Jason will be in and out, he swears.

He grips the to-go bag holding your chicken soup and grapples toward your apartment. You've been down and out with the flu for a few days, and had insisted he keep his distance so he wouldn't get sick too. "Can't protect Gotham with the sniffles," you had said on the phone. Even though he's wanted to take care of you, you'd held firm, so he'd stayed away.

It's not like you're wrong, he reasons as he makes his way over. He does have this festering, garbage dump of a city to take care of. Not like Bruce is doing enough on his own, anyway. He was right to stay away. If he gets sick, who'll protect the girls selling in Crime Alley?

He tries to convince himself all the way across town and onto your fire escape. Jason will just drop this off and leave. No biggie.

He knocks on your window. Peering into your living room, he sees a few small lights on and a pile of blankets on the couch. You're nowhere to be found, maybe you're asleep in bed.

Jason surveys the food. He could text you that it's here and just leave it, but then it'll get cold. He knocks again. A muffled groan sounds through the window, and the lump of blankets on the couch slowly sits up. Some of the blankets shuffle around until you poke your head out, blearily looking around your living room.

Jason grimaces to himself. You look like shit. He raps again on the window to get your attention, and you look over before slowly disentangling yourself from your nest, keeping one blanket swaddled around you. Rising to your feet, you shuffle over, coming close enough that your breath fogs up the window. "Hey, Jay." You cough horribly.

He waves, then gestures at you to lift up the window. You grunt as you do so, leaning away from the cold. "Jay. You can' come indide. You'll ged sig." You glare at him, expression ruined by your red nose and wild hair. "Go away," you sniff at him.

"Brought you some soup. Still hot," he offers, handing you the bag.

"Oh." You take the container out of the bag, holding it close to your chest. "Feels nice. Thanks, Jay."

Jason nods, hesitating. "You sure you don't want me to stay?"

You glare at him again. "I'm fghine!" Another cough overtakes you, and you almost drop the soup, Jason grabbing it out of the air.

"You sure?" he clarifies.

You look at him, eyes watery, pushing your lip out. "...could you stay for a bit?"

Thank god. Jason throws himself through the window, shutting it behind him with a crash. "Of course, baby. Here, go sit," he pushes you toward the couch. "Let me get you your soup."

You sway as you walk over, collapsing onto the sofa. "Jus' for a few hours," you warn, trying to look stern from your position face down on the couch.

Jason stifles a grin. "Sure thing, doll."

[omamervt]

oh my god every one of these replies is so stupid. I was content when it was just one to block and move on but y'all kept going, Jesus.

From top to bottom:

"Review embargoes are good, though!"

If you wanna miss the point, I can help you understand. If you're just wrong, I can try and help you see why. But if you're gonna be wrong WHILE missing the point, nothing you have to say is worth saying.

Ignore for a moment that none of the perks of an embargo in your eyes benefit READERS, only the reviewers, their publishers, and the game's publisher. Because even if I agreed with THAT point, do you think review embargoes had a bad reputation back in the day because of the NON-toxic patterns? No! The point is that reviews aren't allowed to come out now until the game's release is so close that it's too late to inform everyone who pre-ordered that they might want to cancel! And that this went from a predictable indicator that a game was gonna suck on launch to a near-universal practice! And AGAIN, that the editors and reviewers would rather maintain a positive relationship with AAA game publishers than with their own readers!

"influencers can play and stream the game before reviews are out, as long as they stick to certain talking points and avoid others"

In other words, you can only review the game if you don't leave a bad review? do you not think that JUST MAYBE that would fall under the category of "problematic embargo pattern?"

"why are you going to a video game magazine for ttrpg news instead of like, Dicebreaker?"

oh, I don't know? Maybe BECAUSE POLYGON HAS A FUCKING TABLETOP SECTION? Maybe because as great as Rascal and Dicebreaker and the like are and need support when they do good work, it doesn't change the fact that if Polygon wants to have a Tabletop beat, they should at least try and do a good job with it? And the head of that section writing an open letter to people his department has straight-up ignored, despite them doing everything right, and saying, "be more marketable!" You can't pretend it's not a bad look. Ignoring the work of members of his own team, who are doing the thing he's saying needs to be done? You can't pretend it's not a bad look. ESPECIALLY when you acknowledge that WoTC has a LITERAL MONOPOLY on the TTRPG scene!

and shieldfoss, I know you won't see this because I blocked you because you're an idiot arguing in bad faith, but everything you said is exactly what I meant by "debating the role of a games journalist in a way that lets them off the hook for not doing their job." Because actually, it IS a journalist's job to inform their readers, not just spoon-feed them what they want to hear, with info they could just as easily get directly from WoTC.

As it stands, the likes of Polygon ARE serving as part of the marketing for major products and services. And that's a BAD thing!

Oh, and about your analogy: If I were going to an e-bike repair man, then no, I wouldn't expect him to try and sell me a new e-bike. BECAUSE HE'S NOT THE PUBLISHER OF AN E-BIKE MAGAZINE! However, I WOULD expect an e-bike magazine to keep me as up-to-date as is reasonably possible on e-bike product launches, even if it's only via reviews. I would expect them to have a handful of guys whose job was to keep their ear to the ground to research up-and-coming e-bike makers. And if one E-bike brand had a monopoly on e-bikes, I'd hope that e-bike magazine would do everything in its power to at least not COME OFF as a shill for the company that holds the monopoly.

And it's all fascinating that two out of three of these replies are, again, still largely in the context of "this is an issue with Charlie Hall, specifically, writing an article about not wanting to have to do any investigation or research to populate his TTRPG section with TTRPG articles" when, as I've been saying from the beginning, this is bigger than him. It's bigger than Polygon. Every major publication has these issues, and they have them in regards to ALL types of games, not just TTRPGs.

So no, none of these people had good points.

I've often heard people debate the role of Games Journalists and their duties relating to coverage of Games, but its usually in the context of letting them off the hook for just taking the easy route and shilling for the AAA industry.

After This Article from Polygon today, whose TTRPG beat is almost entirely covering WoTC press releases, written by the editor for the TTRPG beat, talking about how indie TTRPGs need to do better about getting press coverage themselves (hmm wonder how that would happen, Charlie!), while neglecting to highlight his own team members' work to do so, but finding plenty of time to bemoan the lack of any upcoming Curse of Strahd-tier adventure modules from WoTC?

Yeah we're done with that. No more. Don't even think about it.

[writingdevil]

Hello, you said you were talking writing prompts so I was wondering if you could write about hunter and stubborn giving each other fighting lessons?

pd: sorry if the message looks a little cold

ppd: I love your writing

(Your message looks fine, don't worry! I'll always love Hunted and Stubborn's dynamic! Thank you for liking my writing, and I hope you enjoy this prompt as well!)

"Ugh, Hunted!"

Hunted immediately froze at Stubborn's frustrated outburst, claws digging into the ground to fight his urge to run away from the negative impact about to come his way.

Instead, Hunted slowly lifted his head, looking over his shoulder to find Stubborn half way across the patch of land they deemed the fighting arena.

Stubborn sighed and crossed his arms, looking disappointed but not too mad, which was the most important thing in Hunted's opinion.

"Hunted! This isn't sparring!" Stubborn exclaimed, and Hunted tilted his head to the side in confusion. "It's not?" he asked, "But you attack and I dodge-isn't that sparring?" Stubborn rolled his eyes as he walked over to him, but Hunted noticed the fondness in Stubborn's actions, so his body relaxed further.

Stubborn walked up until Hunted was drowning in his shadow. Stubborn ran a hand through the unruly feathers at the top of his head as he said, "Yeah, technically. But if all you're doing is running away from me, it's not much of a spar, is it? We sure as hell aren't getting anything from it."

Hunted would argue that they were getting something out of it-exercise was an important factor in staying alive, but he knew Stubborn didn't care about any of that. Stubborn wanted to find something to get his blood pumping and for him to succeed in.

Hunted wasn't exactly sure what else he could do to fix that though, and he lowered his head, unsure of how to quench Stubborn's thirst of adrenaline. They stood there in an awkward silence for a few minutes, before Stubborn suddenly went, "Wait! I got it!"

Hunted jumped at the sudden outburst, but didn't back away in fright. He just bunched his shoulders up into his neck as he looked up at Stubborn.

He had an enthusiastic and mischievous grin that Hunted didn't like as he said, "What if we switch things up?"

"How so?"

Stubborn poked Hunted in the chest hard enough to almost cause him to topple, and said, "What if you were the one attacking next time?" Hunted pushed Stubborn's hand away with a frown, if only to ignore the anxiety forming in his chest. "What do you mean?"

"How about we go a round where you attack me, and I have to run away and dodge what you do?" Stubborn was giving him an encouraging look, but something about this was rubbing Hunted the wrong way. "I'm not sure," he admitted, but Stubborn wasn't discouraged-of course he wasn't.

"C'mon! It's something new!" Stubborn said, looking more confident in the idea by the second. "We'll try and fight like each other-maybe we'll learn something that'll keep us safe in the future."

That prospect did interest Hunted. Stubborn was always too reckless for his own good, never looking at a situation with logic or reasoning. If Hunted could pass off even one lesson of survival to him, then it would be a successful fight to him.

He looked up into Stubborn's eyes, who no doubt could see the fire in his own, and said, "Okay, let's try it."

"Yes!" Stubborn cheered, twisting around and practically running back to his side of the arena. Hunted silently went to his, wondering why there was a bundle of nerves in his chest about this idea. He quickly pushed that feeling to the back of his mind, turning around and nodding to Stubborn.

Stubborn's grin was almost ravenous as he began counting down. "Alright! Go on three! One-"

Hunted gulped, crouching down into position.

"-Two!"

It was just sparring. It was just sparring. It was just-

"Three!"

Before Hunted could even register what he was doing, his body took off-pounding across the dirt to Stubborn, whose face flashed with surprise for a split second, before it was replaced with an excited grin, and he spun around to run away from him.

Hunted barely had to think before he jumped and leaped at Stubborn, clinging to his back and forcing him to fall on his face with a swear.

Hunted sat on Stubborn's back casually, patting him to get his attention. Stubborn shot him a glare over his shoulder as Hunted calmly explained, "Don't run in a straight line. Try to confuse and lose your enemy by twisting and zigzagging around. Don't make it easy to be caught."

"Okay, okay, got it." Stubborn said, and then he sighed-before shooting to his feet, causing Hunted to be thrown off and crashing to the ground. He growled quietly as he heard Stubborn's cock laughter.

Hunted immediately bolted over to where Stubborn was running, and this time, Stubborn kept glancing over his shoulder, until Hunted got close enough to grab at his wings, and then Stubborn suddenly dove to the left, tucking himself into a ball before getting back to his feet.

Hunted blinked at the space where Stubborn had previously been, and then he smiled. He chased after Stubborn again.

They were like that for the next few minutes, with Hunted coming after Stubborn, and Stubborn doing everything he could to avoid Hunted. It wasn't as much of an adrenaline rush as Hunted thought it would be, but maybe that was because he was the pursuer for once.

But then Hunted managed to run up directly next to Stubborn-and then he just kept getting closer and closer, until the feathers on his arms were grazing his head.

Stubborn shot him a look of puzzled amusement and said, "What are you doing? Attack me!" Hunted shook his head. "Don't wanna hurt you." Stubborn barked a laugh out, then responded with, "That's the whole point of fighting, Hunted! C'mon, I can take it!"

But something inside Hunted wasn't sure about that, but Stubborn kept goading him, trying anything to get him to strike, and Hunted knew that Stubborn wouldn't be satisfied unless he complied.

So he took a deep breath in, and swung his claws at Stubborn.

Stubborn backed off just in time, and Hunted's claws felt nothing but air, thankfully. But now Stubborn seemed more excited than ever, standing his ground and gesturing towards himself. "That's what I want, Hunted! Do it again!" Judging by how Stubborn refused to move, it seemed like he wanted Hunted to strike first.

Hunted sighed, before rushing forward again, aiming for Stubborn's leg, who managed to sidestep away at the last minute with a victorious cackle. Hunted tried again, aiming for his side, but Stubborn basically just shoved him away.

Frustration was starting to build up within Hunted, but he wasn't sure why. He wasn't in danger, and Stubborn was successfully avoiding getting hurt. This should all be a good thing to Hunted.

"What's the matter, Hunty?" Stubborn taunted with a knowing smirk. "I thought you were supposed to be an expert at this stuff."

"Expert at surviving," Hunted clarified, but he still sighed sharply in annoyance as Stubborn avoided his swipes once again. "Surviving doesn't always mean fighting."

"Yeah, but what are you gonna do if you're backed into a corner?" Stubborn suddenly took a huge step forward, making Hunted instinctively back away. "Are you gonna lay down and let them rip you open?" A flicker of rage shot through his core, and he panted, balling his hands into fists. "Because it sure as hell doesn't look like you're as capable as you think you are."

Hunted let a warning growl out, but that just made a look of dark glee flash across Stubborn's face. Stubborn chuckled, and the sound was so full of cocky arrogance that Hunted bared his teeth at him. "I'm not even sure you could protect the flock if you tried-"

That's it.

Hunted shouted in rage, lunging forward with his jaws snapping open, and there was suddenly a swear from Stubborn, and the taste of metal in Hunted's mouth.

He froze, dread pooling in his stomach, as Stubborn stumbled backwards, clutching his other arm in shock, and that was when Hunted realized that he was tasting blood in his mouth.

His body began to tremble, and he could do nothing but stare as Stubborn blinked wildly and looked down at his arm.

There was a few seconds of silence, and Hunted was waiting for the moment that Stubborn exploded upon him for drawing blood-but that never happened.

Slowly, a grin formed on Stubborn's face, and he started to quietly laugh, before it erupted into maniacal laughter, and raised his arm to show Hunted.

There were two small cuts in Stubborn's arm-Hunted's fangs must have only grazed his arm, thankfully. It wasn't deep, and Stubborn certainly wasn't in danger of dying, but still-Hunted did that.

Hunted attacked a member of his flock. He bared his fangs at them and drew blood. Waves of disgust were crashing into him, because that was the last thing Hunted ever wished to do. He loved every member of his flock so much, and he would do anything to ensure their survival. He would rather slice his own throat than harm them.

But then why, for a moment, did he enjoy the taste of blood?

"Yes, Hunted!" Stubborn yelled, bringing the other back to reality. He didn't seem angry at his injury-in fact, Stubborn actually looked more bloodthirsty than before. He stomped on the ground once, and it shook Hunted right to his bones. "That's what I'm talking about! Again! Let's do it again!"

Hunted didn't want to do this anymore. All he wanted to do was run away deep into the woods to get sick until the shame left his body-but he stayed put.

He stood up straight, preparing to attack again, mentally ignoring and pushing away all the disgust in his stomach, because Stubborn didn't need that. The flock didn't need that. They just needed Hunted to protect them, and not know what a monster he could be.

His priority should be the flock, and never the creature that lurked within Hunted.

So he ran away from it, and charged at Stubborn again.

[redsugarx]

青白之魅 6: Conclusion

1 Introduction & Presentation // 2 Background & Influences // 3 Hair & Makeup // 4 Set Design // 5 Clothes & Accessories // 6 Conclusion

If you’ve followed this series all the way to the end, thank you for your support! A lot more people saw it than I thought would, and I’m really happy that I got to share my process and thoughts with you :) I read all your replies/tags and they make me super happy! There are just a few more things I want to address to wrap things up now.

behind the scenes vid of me with Dragun that Bloomin Studio recorded for us :)

Things That Went Wrong

I am a strong believer in the scientific method and the scientific method involves error analysis!!!!! Also I don’t want it to look like all of this went off without a hitch. That wouldn’t be fair to the complexity of this project and all the people who helped me work through and solve the problems. So here are some of the ways in which We Fucked Up.

Embroidery positioning: The bottoms of the sleeves were accidentally sewn together before the pieces were sent to the embroidery workshop. If you put the whole sleeve into the machine the embroidery would go through both the front and back of the sleeve, making it unwearable. To solve this, we had to pull the stitches out from the bottom of the sleeve, have it embroidered, and then have it sent back to a tailor's shop to repair the seam. 

Tear in fabric: Lily organza/crystal organza admittedly is a very fragile fabric, especially for machine embroidering. It’s extremely thin, and the surface is very smooth and slippery, which looks phenomenal but makes embroidering it really hard. I covered this in the last post, but long story short, in the process of embroidering one sleeve on the green set, the fabric got snagged in the machinery and tore a hole in the bottom of the sleeve.

At first the plan was to remake the entire sleeve piece, but because the color of the fabric was custom-printed, when I had a new piece of fabric printed for the new sleeve, the color didn’t match exactly, so we had to make do with the existing fabric. In the end we shortened the width of the sleeve so that it cut off above the hole, moving the seam up. Thankfully it didn’t really show up in the pictures, but you can see when it’d laid flat how the ‘margin’ under the snake embroidery for this garment is unusually small, because it got cut off.

Lateness: We ran like a full hour or two overtime with our hair & makeup. This is unfortunately not at all unusual for fashion projects like this, but as a result we lost like a third of our photography time, so there were some shots that I would’ve loved to get that we didn’t have time for. 

Forgotten items: There were a number of things we forgot to bring down to SoCal with us. The biggest thing was probably our steamer. Fortunately, because this set is mostly polyester, it didn’t get too too wrinkled, but there are still some creases and folds that we would’ve steamed out had we gotten the chance.

Fav Shots

Shh not all of these are published anywhere else.

Things I Would've Done (if I had infinite time and money)

Lingzhi - I don't have any photos of it but I bought a replica lingzhi herb (the magic fungus that Bai Suzhen steals to revive Xu Xian after her dies of shock from seeing her snake form) prop. We didn't get around to using it but it would've been a really nice major callback to the story. Also I would've gotten to talk about how I think it's highly possible people thought the lingzhi was magic because they ate it and started tripping balls

Willow branches - Willow branches by the West Lake feature heavily in the opera. I wanted to get willow branches to hang from the backdrop but unfortunately wasn't able to find ones that were realistic enough. They were replaced with dried water reeds, but most of the pictures weren't shot high enough to get them in frame.

Swords - In the opera, Bai Suzhen and Xiaoqing both carry swords. Also, swords are also just cool as hell. I do own one prop sword, but it was too big to fit in my suitcase even diagonally, and also I really didn't want to deal with TSA side-eyeing me about it (even though it technically counts as a prop or sports equipment), so we did not get any swords in the photoshoot.

Extremely specific shot with snakes on the floor - I have this concept of a shot: the empty set, without me or my sister in it, with both Dragun and Spirit on the floor. It would be so cool to do like a snake form -> human form diptych concept! We didn't have time to get both the snakes out at the same time unfortunately. Artistic rendition below LOL

artist's rendition

Credits & Thanks

Credit should be served where credit is due!!! I probably mentioned most of them somewhere but I want to reiterate that a whole lot of people helped make this happen and I appreciate them a lot.

Day Of:

Yulan, as the White Snake (ig @/chlobaltblue), especially for all the Talking To People Thing parts (that I hate doing)

Bloomin Studio (ig @/bloominstudioofficial), photographer

Cujo from Art of Scales (ig @/art_of_scales), for providing us with Spirit & Dragun as well as the space

Kevin (ig/@k.evinzhao), for driving and getting us stuff

Preparation:

Jinerjia（cutting & sewing）

Xishi Pavilion (cutting & sewing）

Chenxi Workshop (cutting & sewing + alteration)

Hantangfengshang（cutting & sewing）

Changxin Embroidery (digitizing & machine embroidering + alteration)

Hanyiren (patternmaking + CAD)

Xingluzhe (fabric printing + laser cutting)

Final Thoughts

In the introduction I talked a little bit about our intentions with this project and the cultural elements that I attempted to adapt and interact with. The Legend of the White Snake is one of the most well-known Chinese folktales out there, and yet there are so many wonderfully intricate details within it that people don't know about.

Snakes have a bad reputation in a lot of cultures. Evil, dangerous, and malicious, they're often cast as the scheming villains of the story, sly and sneaky characters whose goal is to do you harm. They are not the only victims of a bad reputation—every great dynasty always has some beautiful woman to blame for its eventual downfall. People have been arguing over the game of fault and intention for centuries. Even in the hanfu community, there is an unprecedented amount of infighting over what should or should not count as hanfu, who is 'allowed' to appreciate it, or who can take 'ownership' of it.

I think that's the last thing we need in this day and age. I'm reflecting on this project at a time that is uniquely terrifying for many minorities, especially in the US, who seem to be being persecuted for the crime of simply existing. I don't claim to be fighting for justice, I'm just a student in a world that is far too large for anyone to comprehend. But I hope that I helped make something beautiful happen, and I hope that we shared that with someone else, even if it's just a few people, who are reminded that it's not all for nothing :)

-

Okay, we're pretty much done here. I really enjoyed this process and documenting the whole thing, and I definitely want to do something like this again someday, but I definitely don't have the energy to do this kind of thing very often! If a big project does come up again I'll probably document it in a similar way, but it probably won't be for several months/even years. I'll keep posting hanfu articles and maybe document some smaller single-post projects on here at some point :)

Thank you for letting me share this process with you, and feel free to reply/reblog/send asks/whatever with thoughts, questions or concerns! Please interact with me it brings me joy.

1 Introduction & Presentation // 2 Background & Influences // 3 Hair & Makeup // 4 Set Design // 5 Clothes & Accessories // 6 Conclusion

Here's a picture of my snake to close out (his name is Porcupine/Porky for short/滷肉飯 and he's the dumbest animal I've ever met)

[roxygen22]

Bus Stop (Part 4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Nic: Good morning

You grabbed your phone from your nightstand before you had even fully blinked the sleep from your eyes. A message from Nic was waiting for you. You giggled and kicked your feet in excitement as you held your phone to your chest. Last night wasn't just a dream, after all.

You: Morning!

Your fingers typed wildly.

You: You're quite the early bird.

Relunctantly tossing the warm covers away from your body, you got out of bed to start your morning routine, bringing your phone along so as to not miss anything. As you leaned over the sink to brush your teeth, you felt it vibrate on the tile counter. Just seeing his name on the screen made your heart beat a little faster.

Nic: I try to start the day with a run or bike ride. Just got back inside. Gotta hop in the shower and get ready for class. What time is your lunch break?

Blood rushed to your cheeks at the thought of him being soaked in sweat or lathered up in soap. Too soon, you cautioned yourself. Thank goodness he couldn't see you.

You: Usually at noon, unless a mtg runs long.

Nic: K. I'll give you a call on my way to the station, if that's OK?

You bit your lip. How to sound positive but not TOO eager...

You: Yes, please :)

The morning crawled and meetings droned on and on. Several times you caught yourself daydreaming, staring out the window or drawing abstract shapes on your paper instead of taking notes. As the clock ticked closer to noon, your knee bounced under your desk in nervous excitement, impatiently waiting for your phone to light up.

Like clockwork, your phone buzzed in your hand at 12:00 on the dot as you ran out to the rear courtyard for a semi-private spot to talk.

"You are quite punctual," you answered. Nic chuckled.

"I've been holding my phone in my hand just staring at it for a solid two minutes waiting for the right time. How has your day been?"

"Oh, [nervous laughter] I'm not exactly sure. I spent most of the morning off in la-la-land. I had a little trouble paying attention."

"Funny you should say that. I had the same problem in class."

"Oh, yeah? What were you thinking about?"

"You first," he teased.

"No, you."

"Alright, since we're not in person to settle this with rock-paper-scissors like mature adults, how about we both say it on three?"

You laughed. "Ok. I can appreciate a good compromise. 1...2...3..."

"You."/"Last night."

"Really?"/"Really?"

There was an awkward pause that was probably not as long as it felt. You broke the silence.

"I was stoked to see your message this morning. Confirmation that I didn't dream the whole thing up," you admitted.

"I haven't had a fun evening out like that in ages. I...I felt like- like you were just so easy to talk to."

"I had fun, too," you replied. "I, uh...I dreamed about that kiss. It's been - a while - since I've been kissed like that."

"Me, too."

"Dream or a long time since the last?"

"Both."

"Awwwww!" you vocalized. "Well, you don't have to wait that long again." Your boldness startled you, so you started backtracking in a panic. "I mean, if, uh, that's what you want. Because that's what I want. I mean...," you trailed off and groaned as you smacked your forehead with your palm. "I'm going to shut up now."

"Please don't," Nic replied. "It's adorable when you ramble when you're flustered."

"You do seem to have that effect on me." The tops of your ears burned with embarrassment at your admission.

He chuckled. "So I've noticed."

After a beat of silence, you asked, "So, just curious, how long has it been for you? It's been just over two years for me."

"Almost four years. I've been trying to work on feeling whole on my own before getting involved with someone again."

"Kudos for putting in that work on yourself. My ex did not. He projected a lot of pent-up baggage onto me. I've been on a break since. It was toxic and lasted longer than it should have, and I've been in no rush to get mixed up with the wrong person again.

"But now?" Nic eagerly implored.

"Nowwwwww I think I could be persuaded by the right person," you hinted.

"Ah, I see." He paused. "[Y/N], I...," he cleared his throat. "Do you like Italian food?"

Somewhat taken aback by the jarring transition, you stuttered, "Y-yeah, I love Italian." You worried that you threw him off by mentioning your ex. Maybe it was too much too soon?

"There's this great place near the bus stop where I usually get on at Lexington and 1st. I was thinking we could go get a bite to eat tomorrow after work?"

Whew. Maybe you didn't scare him off after all. "That sounds delicious. I'd love that."

"Great! I'll meet you at the bus stop and walk you over. But for now, you should probably actually eat something on your lunch break. I just made it to the news station and need to go get settled in."

You pulled the phone away from your face to check the time. You only had about 10 minutes left. "Alas, responsibilities befall us all. See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow. Bye, [Y/N]."

"Bye, Nic."

You ended the call and stared down at the dark phone screen in your hand. The fading excitement felt like you were crashing from a sugar rush. You slowly got up from the bench and shuffled back inside to get your food.

Your coworkers were standing at the ready to interrogate you. They knew you generally hated talking on the phone, but this time, you were all smiles.

"Tell us all about him, honey," the receptionist, Henrietta, demanded. "We need some excitement around here."

"What? How did you...."

"Dear, you have lovesick written all over your face!"

You blushed hard. Before you knew it, you were encircled by colleagues rolling over in their desk chairs as you recounted spotting Nic on the bus and working up the courage to say hello, and how magical that first unexpected date and kiss were last night. Once they were done peppering you with questions and chairs were rolled back to desks, Henrietta came up to you and gave you a hug.

"I'm glad you are finally putting yourself back out there after that jerk, Matt. You deserve to find love again, and he sounds like a wholesome guy."

"Thanks, Etta." You patted her arm and gently squeezed. "Time for me to come down out of the clouds and get back to work, I guess."

Small text exchanges throught the rest of the day kept you going, but you craved to hear Nic's voice again. Tomorrow felt like forever away. You knew you'd need to distract yourself with a rare visit to the gym that evening to pass the time and wear yourself out.

You were walking to the bus stop after work when you felt your phone buzz in your bag. It was a long, repeated vibration - someone was calling you. You fumbled through the main section of the bag, cursing yourself for not putting your phone in the pocket it belonged for quick access. Once in hand, you stared at the screen. Nic?

"Hello?"

"Is now a bad time?"

"No, not at all. I just wasn't expecting to get to talk to you again today. I'm off work and walking to the bus. How was the rest of your day?"

"Not bad, but I have to say it definitely peaked at lunchtime. I wanted to hear your voice again."

You chuckled. "Same here. Sounds like you are walking, too."

"The meeting isn't far from the station, so I like to get more steps in if weather permits."

"Maybe your habits will rub off on me."

He didn't respond, but you could hear him breathing on the other end of the line.

"Getting up early routinely and going for a run, walking instead of taking the bus or taxi. I have a gym membership, but I'm the worst about actually going," you added.

"Oh," he replied, followed by anxious laughter. "Hey, I made it to the meeting spot. I'll talk to you later, ok?"

"Ok. Have a good night!"

"Bye, [Y/N]."

<><><><><>

There was no message waiting for you the next morning. Trying not to think anything of it, despite the strange end to the last two conversations, and to keep things balanced, you decided to send one yourself to start things off.

You: Morning!

You had already made it to work and started on your case load before Nic responded with a simple "good morning" in return three hours later. You were elbow deep in paperwork and couldn't break away to message again until lunch, which was later than usual.

No additional texts. And no call. Desperately trying not to overthink, you reminded yourself that he said he would talk to you later, so there had to be at least some intent to make contact. He had given you no reason not to trust his word, but you couldn't take it any longer.

You: Sorry for the radio silence. It's been a busy day prepping for a case.

Nic: No worries. At work, too.

You: Still on for dinner? I should be at your stop about 5:40

Nic: Yep, see you soon

You chalked his stilted, near transactional messages up to being busy at work. For once, you were grateful for the hectic pace at work to keep your brain from spiraling. At the end of the day, you gathered your things and took a deep breath before leaving the office. You reminded yourself that you were beyond capable of handling whatever the evening threw at you.

You boarded the bus and mindlessly watched the scrolling marquee of upcoming cross streets. Your heart rate surged with each stop that brought you closer to Nic. What if he wasn't there? What if he was acting strange because he's planning to cut things off?

The next stop was yours. You stepped off and looked around once you cleared the bus and breathed a sigh of relief to see Nic leaning against a nearby pole. One worry down. He walked over toward you.

"Hi," you said, trying to sound chipper.

"Hey." He bent down and gave you a small peck of a kiss on your cheek. He looked...sad. Not the greeting you had hoped for. "Ready to eat?"

Truthfully, no. But you weren't going to fill him in on your anxieties yet, so you just nodded and walked alongside as he led the way to the restaurant in silence. Something was obviously up. You could see an Italian restaurant sign up the street, but he paused before you made it there.

Nic stepped over to a nearby bench and gestured for you to sit beside him. You did so nervously, clutching your bag in your lap so he couldn't see your hands shake.

"Hey, listen," he started. "Before we, uh, go in, I...I need to tell you something. I owe it to you and to myself."

Your eyes widened. "Oh, God. You're not, like, still married or something, are you?" Your voice raised, garnering attention from passersby.

"What? No, oh, no no, not that." Nic reached out as if he wanted to hold your hand, but hesitated before pulling it back to his leg. He looked around to see if anyone was still paying attention and took a deep breath before locking eyes with you. "[Y/N], I am a recovering addict. I have been sober for about three years now."

That is not what you expected. Your brain churned through a thousand different responses, trying to figure out the right thing to say to such big news. Before you could say anything, he continued.

"I go to NA meetings every Wednesday evening. They reminded me that... that...if we are going to get to know each other, I need you to know me. Who I am. That is part of my identity and daily challenge to continue to be my best self." His shoulders fell as he looked down at the sidewalk away from you. "I also...I wanted to give you a chance to end this early if that is too much. You deserve to be with the right person, and I understand that that may not be me."

Nic jumped slightly when you hooked your finger under his chin to lift his head up, where you met him with a soft smile.

"That is nothing to be ashamed of," you replied slowly. "Thank you for sharing. I know that couldn't have been easy, but at least now I better understand why you weren't talking much today. I thought...I thought maybe I said something wrong yesterday."

"What?! No! Oh no, I'm so sorry that I made you think that." He pulled your hand up to his lips to kiss it. "You- you're a breath of fresh air. A fresh start with someone who isn't stuck on the image of the old me."

You released a deep breath you didn't even know you had been holding. "I must admit that I can't even begin to know what your journey has been like. Or will be like. But I'm willing to take things one day at a time to find out."

"One day at a time is all I can ask for." Nic gently leaned his forehead against yours. "Thank you."

You were enjoying the closeness until your stomach betrayed you with a loud grumble. Now that your worries had eased, you were terribly famished. Nic sat up and wiped a tear off his cheek, laughing as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He stood and held his hand out to you.

"Hungry?"

"Starved," you replied as you stood and followed him toward the restaurant once again. "So what's good here?"

"Well, I prefer their spaghetti over their penne..."

<><><><><>

The End

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess @bluizh @groovy-lady @pmak2002 @itshonestlynotme @parkbabyj @genesis-margarita @superlegend216 @crypticslytherin

[angelsdvsts]

"oh, yeah the definitely checks out. . . i mean after all you're the one who wants to suck me off in front of your family," he points out, that charming smirk growing across his lips. couldn't resist the natural cockiness that falls with his words. mind ran wild regarding the femme and just how nasty she would get; the extent that she would go through just for a nice little hookup. "something tells me that you have a little degrading kink, are you already wet as hell thinking about me just spitting on you, gripping your neck with my hands while i force this cock into your mouth?" though, he was positive that she'd open wide for him, he didn't need to do much forcing. "sounds to me that you want to find out, i'm always willing to prove you wrong," he shrugs his shoulders as if he was doing a favor for the girl, giving her a taste of him -- surely she would continue to come back for more. hues darts over towards her features, lifting his shoulders into a shrug before shaking his head, "nah -- i don't think it's stupid. everyone wants freedom and i'm sure your parents have you in a chokehold," laughter falls from his lips, arms crossed over his chest. "don't think i could hit it and quit it with you? that's kinda bold of you to assume," matter in fact, he believed that she'd come crawling back for more. though his mind couldn't help, but wrap around the fact that she'd probably look like a goddess wrapped around his cock; the thing was lets see if she could keep this attention. "can't imagine that they'll care too much for the baby, but rather how much of my family's assets could go to them." and he definitely didn't want to bring a child into the world with someone that he truly couldn't see himself being with. deep chuckles fell from his lips, eyes soaking the female upon her knees. "i don't know, let's put it to the test, aspen -- let's see what that mouth can do," teasing words escapes, tongue darting out to dampen his lips. "mm, yeah? you want to gag on it so bad to the point where drool starts falling from your lips?"

"i'm saying that i'm open to both", corrects with a wry grin, "sometimes i want it private and other times ... well, other times it's fun with an audience." when it came to sex aspen was about as free and open minded as a girl could be, except feet. she drew the line at anything to do with those. "mm, i think i'd like your spit on me, actually. having it drip down me ... bet you'd like it too, right? spitting all over the girl your family hates, making her into a filthy slut that takes whatever she's given." it shouldn't make aspen aroused to talk about herself that way, but god, her clit is pulsing in time with her heart as she speaks, voices her nastiest desires. "um i think it would. you just have a very big ego, probably an average cock", but she's going to find out how much she can take, especially considering diego doesn't seem to believe she'll actually do it. "i mean, don't get me wrong there's plenty of benefits to being his daughter, but i want freedom too -- i don't know, maybe i'm just being stupid and having rich girl problems." she briefly shrugs it off, focusing instead on the man in front of her. "as if you could only stand to have me once, diego. be real here." but perhaps if his dick does make her gag she'll admit to wanting him too, to how she thinks about him and how annoyingly handsome he is. "i don't think the world's ready for that ... at least not with a money grabbing whore as the mommy." nose wrinkles at the prospect, someone exploiting diego by getting pregnant, bringing a child into the world purely to make money from them. dipping her digits inside his trousers the femme grins, curling her fingers around his length and tugging it out in to the cold air. "yeah? think you'd like having your cock sucked by me?" she had to admit, he was bigger than she'd anticipated, but it definitely wasn't a negative. leaning down aspen pokes her tongue out, licking a slow path across his swollen head before pressing a loud open mouthed kiss to the soft skin. "bet you'd fit so snug down my throat ... fat and throbbing while i lick you."

[wisteria-lodge]

why is Dramione so popular and do you think it's problematic?

I. PROBLEMATIC SHIPS

(scroll down if you just want to read about Dramione)

First thing is, I don't think any ships are problematic.

There are lots of ships I don't *like.* There are ships that squick me, or mischaracterize one of the characters in a way that annoys me, or that I think are boring. But saying something is "problematic" implies that I have an issue with it's existence, and don't think that anyone should ship it ever. And that's just not ever going to be the case for me.

Like okay. I have a really strong dislike of any relationship where Character A is "saving" or "fixing" Character B. (In my head I call them Life Coach ships.) I think that's an unhealthy dynamic that breeds resentment and also doesn't work. You can support people, but in the end they gotta fix themselves. BUT. I'm ALSO aware that fixing/saving the bad boy is power fantasy, and power fantasies are fun, and cathartic, and important. Maybe it's nice to read about Lucius Malfoy or whoever responding to that sort of attention the way you wish your father or partner responded in real life. People are messy, and complicated.

To take an extreme example, I know that some people who've been raped stay away even from sex pollen and fake dating, and others actively seek out non-con, even romanticized non-con, as a way to process and deal. Basically, I think people tend to seek out media that is good for them (or at least comforting) and backspace out of media that actively hurts them. You probably have a second of disgust where you're like, ugh that's a thing? But you're not going to read a whole Snape/Hermione fic if the premise upsets you.

I bring up Snape/Hermione because teacher/student is a huge squick of mine. Doesn't matter if they're both adults, or if it's more of an apprentice thing. It's a scenario and a power dynamic that I do not like. BUT. I understand the appeal. The premise of a lot of Snamione fics is... okay, here's this powerful, intelligent, well-dressed guy who is extremely buttoned up and repressed, who doesn't give anyone the time of day. But there's something about YOU (not your prettier friends/classmates) that gets under his skin, and now he's obsessed, wrapped around your little finger. Oh and he's damaged, so he *needs* you. That's a power fantasy. And like, irl you're generally pretty powerless as a 17 year old girl, especially when interacting with men in positions of authority.

Also, like, historically? A lot of fantasies have operated under the heading of "I know it's wrong, but I still can't resist." The fact that something is wrong, is a societal taboo, well - that's a very easy, safe way to get an adrenaline rush, and up the intensity of the fantasy situation. Even the stuff people always bring up when they talk about problematic ships - underage, incest, slavery au but it's framed like it's hot, idk. They're forbidden societal taboos for really good reasons, but I don't think it's crazy to be interested in the big red button that says DO NOT PUSH.

Like how about this. In my experience, actors who play villains tend to be the sweetest, loveliest people you've ever met in your life. And I've always wondered if it's because they kind of have to unpack all the dark, sticky, destructive, perverse parts of themselves on a fairly regular basis (and then have a good outlet for those same feelings.) Everyone has parts of themselves that are not "nice" and not "proper." I think fiction is a fantastic place to air those out.

II. DRAMIONE

I am absolutely not surprised that Dramione is so popular. First, Hermione gets shipped with everyone - for a long time she was the character everyone projected on, and while that's less the case now... she's still the most important female character, and she's a *good* character. She's intense, and goes a little extreme with the problem solving. She's good at observing people but not great with people. She misses social cues. She's compensating like crazy. That's good (relatable!) stuff.

And Draco? He slots into the worldbuilding in an interesting way, he's got a *great* backstory, he's arch and a little bit of a shit, but he's also sensitive and squeamish about violence. I also think he taps into that "oh shit I was WRONG" feeling that is such an important part of adulthood. Hermione is also just going to be the walking embodiment of that feeling for Draco, so he's going to feel some kind of interesting way about her.

I think Draco is fun to ship with any of the Golden Trio, because they've all got that martyr streak and Draco is a survivor, so they clash in interesting ways and end up balancing each other out. Draco and Hermione especially are both very politically orientated people, so they're a good ship for exploring worldbuilding, wizard world reform, or pureblood politics. I also think Hermione has a feminine, girly side that she feels a little guilty about exploring - and spending five minutes around aesthetic, fashion-conscious Draco is going to give her permission to do that. They both have a streak of practical ruthlessness that I think they would respect in each other. Draco can be... a little lazy, so passionate driven people are good for him. But then I think he would be a nice control for Hermione's workaholic tendencies. Ultimately I think they're actually very compatible.

(also like. Hermione likes quidditch players. and if her crush on Lockhart is anything to go by... she also likes pretty blonde men who dress all snappy.)

[problematic-polls]

Hello. I recently visited your presumably fine city, and I have to say, I did not enjoy myself.

I am reminded of a quote from AA (non active): "Principles before personalities."

Seems everywhere I went I was harassed, discriminated against, belittled, kicked out, yes sexually harassed, etc, apparently based on the characteristics of my physical appearance, as I gave no indication of political creed, religious affiliation, life philosophy, personal history, or otherwise. Like come on guys, my fashion sense is not THAT bad.

For example, a barista I interacted with saw fit to yell "no" in my face as I was attempting to order. Like fine, if you feel the need to publicly and preemptively cock block me by loudly stating your negative sexual preference towards my person, and thereby impress friends and bystanders, while letting that fella or lady you truly are smitten with know just how loyal a girl you really can be... I can't stop you. I'm sure they're great. I'm just trying to get some coffee.

Ok ok ok, so now, you (the reader) share a knowing look with the apparently psychic iindividual who tells you what to think and how to act (they obviously know about these things), who then makes a simple gesture accusing me of pedophilia and boom. Game, set, and match. It's over. Why even continue reading?

Not that either you believe what you are saying, but who gives a fuck at this point right? It's just that the look on both your faces reminds me of a smug version of the look my dog gets when he is licking his own butt.

Funny story-up until recently, I worked with an actual convicted child rapist. The genuine article. And let me tell you, he was having a fucking field day with this shit. It's ok, get it all out buddy. That's fine right? He's a part of the movement, and everyone gets something. Well, almost everyone lol;) ;)

Yes sir, it's a real pander fest out there. At an intersection, there is an environmentalist guy and a guy with the unnecessarily large and noisy truck. Given our recent political decision making process, you would think they would be staring daggers, yelling, celebratory coal rolling, etc. No absolutely not. Dudes are falling all over themselves in a mad scramble of trans political endearment. It's so simple!! All we have to do is find the one guy in society who isn't a completely gullible dumbfuck and shit all over him and poof. All problems resolved. Transgressions forgiven. A new age.

I mean, it is somewhat interesting how each of you has an individually unique rationalization for the exact same , identical patterns of hateful and abusive behavior. The tree hugger and the coal roller. Beautiful snowflakes all.

Just kidding, it's actually really easy to just place you in a cliched typology and reverse engineer your justification for participating in fascism lite (tm) based on a presumable self conception. I don't really give a fuck what lies you tell yourself in the mirror. But as your Bob Dylan said, it ain't me babe.

Point being, having superceded the political, as well as all conventional rules of civilized conduct, and or general local culture in your fair city, The Movement (tm) (ha) or whatever the fuck you call it, is the dominant social reality and governing social principle.

AND YOU CANNOT TALK ABOUT IT

Which is fine. You do you. But please cease to labor under the illusion that you still have any translatable values, of any kind, whatsoever. It's not that open harassment or discrimination or whatever, particularly when perpetrated by a group of people in a position of social power, is wrong, per se, right? I mean, it would be interesting to hear any of you attempt to justify yourselves, but unfortunately YOU CANNOT TALK ABOUT IT. It is forbidden. I get it. Its like fight club. That's fair. White guys have made some pretty decent movies.

Let's say you dropped $100k on a liberal arts degree. Here's a chance to exercise some critical thinking in the face of a mass social movement founded on cruelty and open hatred, which is kind of the basic purpose of such a degree. Nope. Let's say it was history. What does this say about your chosen field of study? Hide all evidence right? Or sociology. Beyond your purview. Philosophy. When in Rome? Congratulations.

A lot I could say, but, regarding the preposterous idea that this is jall ust a some organic, spontaneously occurring culture phenomenon (rationalization received from a Christian): 1. Easily forensically disprovable, I'm not even particularly well studied and I know exactly who your master is, where they work, and why, and 2. Shockingly naive, given the power dynamics of the situation, sorry no way are your overlords leaving that kind of money on the table.

I don't really feel like elaborating further other than to say that because you are unable to speak or "go back and forth with me", whatever it is that you are participating in is, on its face, complete bullshit, as you, by both structural and philosophical necessity, lack individual moral and intellectual agency, which is, in fact, and in spite of what you may believe (ask your benevolent dictator), the root of all collective historical human failure. As well as the principle rationale for a liberal arts education. But fuck it right?

So, you spent 100k on education, only to turn around and will yourself into intellectual and moral slavery, and become the object of some corporate marketing psychologist's vanity project? May I wipe my ass with that diploma?

In closing, I don't want to go over the top here and start some kind of song of myself, oh no, but having been treated like human garbage, I feel compelled to state:

In terms of adverse personal experience, I soloed goddamn Annapurna in the snow season, lived to tell the tale, and this is the shit I come back to. You are all useful idiots and your behavior is an insult to the human condition.

Why me? Honestly, because out of everyone in at least the entire western United States apparently, you could literally put a gun to my head and I would not get on whatever bullshit from the literal church of corporate Satan you all are being spoon fed. Which I guess is some sort of crime.

On behalf of myself, humanity, Jesus, the Buddha, the better angels of our nature, all the great ones who came before, rock-'n'-roll, etc, Bellingham, YOUR SCENE SUCKS.

I will enjoy the cold comfort of inner freedom and a righteous cause while watching you abandon any semblance of a coherent value system and continue to lick fascist corporate ass for a bump of cocaine (which I don't think is very punk rock:( )

In solidarity, an actual, working, breathing, locally available, and highly DMable, high 7-ish, cultural dissident.

And, let the bad faith Cassandra treatment begin.

(Unless you are feeling spry big fella. Wanna earn some points???)

UPDATE: You guys, you guys wait!!! I thought of a really good one. The hand gesture thing-that is soooo Hitler

Update to Update: WOW so many responses. I am not able to give each one the time and attention it deserves, so here I will make a brief general reply before sharing something (indeed) very special with everyone.

Briefly perusing these responses, they seemed mostly attempts and bad faith gaslighting (as predicted) along with a sprinkling of salty literary criticism. I, at least, personally, found the gaslighting amusing, because I said you would do it, and you still did it anyway. Lol.

But really, everyone here, myself included, knows that besides "though shalt not speak," like the second rule in the playbook (which apparently descended from Shiva on a ray of light or some shit) is "Just keep doing it," so really this discussion is basically pointless, other than to point out that based on your actions, you are now complicit in an ongoing attempt to manufacture a historical falsehood about our society as it exists today, which, to me, is somewhat mind-blowing and honestly something of a privilege to witness firsthand. Now on to the important stuff.

Driving home today, listening to some predictably tinny, cacaphonous, and emotionally shallow corporate music, it occurred to me: When all this first I was actually pretty afraid. I remember first commenting on this pattern of organized behavior I got so scared I had like a four day flashback, you know the terrors, worries that someone was going come kidnap me and bury me alive somewhere because the shit I talked was so unprecedentedly nasty there was no way it could be allowed to stand, etc.(Which honestly is a pretty scary thought, because just based on the responses I received here it is clear that no one is gonna come looking). But you know, this went on, and the ol shoe never dropped.

I could only speculate that I must have been the subject of some kind of Job-like wager, to see whether I could walk the razors edge between hysteria, due to the gaslighting, on the one hand, and some form of violence, due to the anger at the abusive treatment, on the other. And it went on, and on, and on.

Today I realized that due to recent developments, and in small part because of this post, the terms of the wager have changed (which is good, because turns out, I can do this shit indefinitely, but where's the fun in that?). I am no longer the subject of this wager. No, I am now a party to it.

So, what or who (you may ask), is now then the new subject? What is the nature of this new wager?

The subject, my friends, is you. My fellow citizens. The unwashed (stereotype) masses. The people of Bellingham. The human race.

And what is in question? I guess on my side would be what is known as traditional humanism. Although I am no paragon and did not choose this, this tradition would generally focus on the value of things like honesty, courage, dignity, perseverance, kindness, love etc. which in my opinion are inescapable, and due to my own experiences with hardship, indispensable, and woe be to him who has not felt that light touch some corner of his immortal soul.

The counterargument (I suppose) could (for my purposes) be described as anti-humanist, at least in the traditional sense. I believe that this position holds that the idealization of these traditional virtues breeds discontent and indeed mass violence and war, as humans are inherently somewhat petty, cruel, violent, etc, Overly harmonious, idealized group identities simply displace(?) sublimate (?) (my bad) these tendencies outward, in the form of group based hatred and violence.

Relevant questions: Realistically, are humans capable of self government? Are ideals good? Is the project of the enlightenment practical or desirable?

I would argue that life is basically not worth living in the anti-humanist society, as well as point out that in the more moderate "European" view, this is why we have things like rock climbing or whatever other stupid shit you guys do. Traditional forms of collective action are still necessary, and you can't solve many problems "herding cats."

To some extent this is a matter of taste, but I guess the real question is whether your corporate overlords can succeed in birthing the anti-humanist society and ,indeed, become bigger than Jesus.

You guys aren't helping my case much, but regardless this is the fundamental reality of what is happening right here, right now, plain as day.

I'll end with a plea for collegiately, as I have presented the arguments collegially, mainly out of fear for my personal safety, although we both know, if one thing is true about people from my tradition, it's that we fucking LOVE to party.

The ball is obviously not in my court, as I am alone here in a literal sea of sycophantic assholes, with nothing to defend myself but my rapacious wit, endearing humor, and roguish good looks.

It is ironic though. Me, an actual pariah, and the girl who has it all, arguing across each other. Like, I cannot fucking BELIEVE I am defending you people.

here's that long fucking ask y'all wanted

[legalmente-loca]

They Were Real

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: You sacrificed your life for humanity twice. Days later you find yourself in an unknown room and with your memory lost. You must not overlook any details since it could be a lie. The most important thing that occupies the center of your head is to discover who he is... Who is that man named Dean Winchester.

They Were Real Masterlist

Word Count: 2,479

Tags/Warnings: memory loss, jump in time

Prologue:

Who makes the rules about what is right or wrong? Surely they are the same people who have never found themselves between a rock and a hard place. Surely, if they were put in that position, they would not know what to do and would end up choosing the “bad” choice. All people are hypocrites and if someone says they are not... It is because they are one of the most hypocritical people on the planet.

To what extent can a person be judged by their decisions?

To what extent would you judge yourself for your decisions?

You walked through the hallways of this abandoned building looking for the monster. Charlie hadn't really found enough information to attack with confidence, but it was enough. A vetala, that's all.

But as soon as you heard a voice, your senses took off and you pressed yourself against the wall, dust sticking to your jacket, knife raised.

“I don't see her anywhere, Sammy.” He said in a tired tone.

You felt him move to the other side of the wall and you strained your hearing. You didn't know who it was, it might or might not be your fighter, but if he was a civilian, he was complicating things.

You concentrated even more when you noticed that he didn't make a sound. You didn't think he was gone.

Then, you understood the cause of the silence.

You took a deep breath and gripped your knife firmly. You quickly moved your back away from the wall and turned around, knife firmly in front of you. At the same time you made your movements, he executed them. You were facing each other, pointing at each other.

“Hey.” He greeted and you narrowed your eyes.

“Do we know each other?”

“Not in person.”

“Are you what I should hunt?”

You looked each other firmly in the eyes, one wanting to guess the other's next moves.

“Let's admit it. No one will lower their weapons.” You said.

“You would really do me a favor if you did.”

“I don't do anyone favors.”

“Not even Charlie?”

Your face paled, putting you on alert upon hearing your sister's name.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me. I'm sure you do your sister a lot of favors.” He smiled sideways.

“How do you know her name?” You growled.

“We were talking.”

You both went around in circles, going in and out of the rooms while still pointing at each other.

“Did you murder her?” Your voice shook, but you didn't care. You needed to know the answer even if you didn't like it.

“No.”

You looked at him curiously, and although your body relaxed, you were still on alert. The dust at his feet fluttered with every movement and the stranger's green eyes shone in the rays of sunlight.

“What did you do to her?”

“What I told you. We just chat. Amicably I must clarify.”

“About what, genius?”

“But how much kindness.” He said sarcastically, but slowly raised his machete in a sign of peace. “We killed this vampire together and both sides get the credit.”

“What credit? They don't even pay us and I'm not sure you're not what I'm looking for. Besides, I don't need a partner.”

“Your sister thinks so.”

“Don't mention her.” You groaned and stopped walking.

“Okay, kitten, without taking out the claws.”

You rolled your eyes.

"Besides, it's not a vampire, it's a vetala."

He frowned and lowered his machete.

"What? No. Of course it’s a vampire.”

“Blood sucked, they hunt in pairs, it's a damn vetala.”

“I haven't heard from a second monster.”

“That's because I killed him.”

You raised an eyebrow. Dean could practically feel the arrogance oozing out of your pores.

“Okay, Lara Croft, are we doing this or not?”

“I don’t even trust you.”

“But yes in her, right?

You looked at him in confusion as he lowered his hand to one of his pockets.

“Hey.”

“Relax. It’s just my cell phone.”

And just as he said, he took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number, raising it to his ear as his gaze remained on you. Someone answered on the other side.

“Charlie, there is someone who wants to talk to you.”

He moved his cell phone away from his ear and brought it closer to you. Seeing that you didn't let your guard down, he sighed and left the machete on the ground and then kicked it away from him.

“Believe me, I wouldn't do that for anything.”

You thought about it for a few seconds, looking him up and down carefully, looking for anything that would set off an alarm in your brain. But there was nothing.

You grabbed the cell phone and brought it to your ear.

“Charlie?” You said doubtfully.

“Ahoy, here I am.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.

"Are you okey." You nodded.

“Yep, alive and well.”

“So, this guy tells me you made a deal with him.”

"That's how it is."

The way she said it so easily made you frown.

“Just like that? So easy? Were you even planning to consult with me?” You asked angrily.

“I knew what you would say, little sister.”

“And you didn't think that maybe I have my reasons?” You looked at Dean with disdain, his reaction being a shrug. “How can you be so sure he won't betray you?”

"Listen, I've already talked to his brother too-"

“Oh, so there are two?” You interrupted her. “This just keeps getting better.”

“Everything will be fine. You just have to trust me.”

“You know I trust you.” You paused. “But it's them I don't trust.”

“Listen, little sister, let's make a deal.”

“Haven't you done enough for today?”

“Trust me and let's do this. If everything turns out as expected, then we'll move on with our lives and go out for a drink. If it doesn’t work out… I’ll admit I was wrong.”

“I like the sound of that. Although I don't think it matters much when we're dead, but oh well.”

“We have a deal?”

“In a minute you will have my answer.” You looked at the man in front of you. “If you betray us, can I take care of her?”

“No one will betray you.” Seeing that you didn't say anything, he sighed and put his hands in his jacket pockets. “But yes, you can. Damn, I'll even give you all the tools you want to torture her.”

You nodded and returned your attention to the call.

“I'm in.”

“Yay!” Shee exclaimed in a triumphant tone. “You won't regret it.”

“No, I won't.”

You hung up the phone and handed it to Dean. You decided to put the knife away for now. He gave you a charming smile that you actually didn't find charming at all and extended his hand.

“Welcome, darlin’.”

You watched his hand nonchalantly and he cleared his throat, removing it and instead combing his hair.

“My name is Dean and the other guy is my brother Sam.”

You sighed and extended your hand, giving him your name. He looked at your hand before extending his own. Your hands touched, a gust of wind moved the dust at your feet.

“Your sister told me that you know when people are going to die.”

“Exaggerate. They are just… Instincts.”

“Uh…” He nodded and let go of your hand, running it over his chin. “But are you really right?”

“Yes, why? Do you want to bet?”

He smiled sideways.

“You shouldn't bet with me, sweetheart, I always end up getting the most.”

"C’mon. I will tell you if anyone will die during the mission, and if it turns out that way, you will give me that machete.”

“What if I win?”

“What do you want from me?”

You extended your arms and turned around. Dean smiled, but preferred to save the perverted comments for when he got to know you better.

“Your knife.”

"Really?"

"What? Are you afraid of losing?”

You shook your head in amusement. The mere idea of fearing something you were so sure of seemed ridiculous to you.

“Of course not. I have never missed a premonition.”

“Then we have a deal.”

He extended his hand again and this time you took it without protest, giving it a firm squeeze.

“We have a deal.”

He smiled at you, and you couldn't help but smile back. You had to admit he was charismatic and engaging.

You still couldn't separate your hands from each other, your smiles like mirrors, and they reflected each other in your eyes.

You opened your eyes slowly, feeling them heavy. In fact, as you slowly gained consciousness, your entire body felt heavy. You turned your head to either side as you studied the unfamiliar room in which you lay groggily.

Where were you?

You sat up slowly, your body aching at the movement. You had an IV and you took it out, a little blood coming out. You placed your feet on the ground and a shiver ran through your body as you felt the cold surface. You ran a hand over your forehead and closed your eyes for a few seconds, needing to come back completely.

You were wearing a hospital gown, but you didn't seem to be in one. You looked for your clothes, but they didn't seem to be there.

Suddenly, you began to hear sounds of footsteps heading towards the room. You looked for something to defend yourself with and ended up grabbing the IV. You stood against the wall, behind the door. Seeing someone open it, you prepared yourself.

It was a man. A very tall man who slowly approached the bed, surprised to not find you there. You quietly walked up behind him and placed the tip of the IV against his back, applying light pressure to let him know that what was behind him was sharp and therefore dangerous.

“Stay still and don't make any noise, understood?” He nodded. “Now, how many people are in this place?”

“Listen, I-”

You pressed the needle harder.

“Answer.” You said firmly.

“Six.”

“I can finish all of you.”

“Wait, you must listen to me.” He said your name and you cocked your head. “…And you know me.”

“Nice trick, but it won't work.”

“It's the truth. Did you have an accident-”

“Stop talking! Take me to the people who kidnapped me.

“What? No one kidnapped you.”

“You want to die?”

He sighed.

“Fine…” He gave up. “I'll take you to them.”

“Good boy.”

You pushed him towards the door. You walked close to his back. The place caught your attention. It looked big, full of hallways, but there were no windows in sight. Were you in a bunker?

He stopped before turning and you understood. His friends were there around the corner, the room without a door.

“We’ll go into the room and you and your friends will answer some questions.” You whispered. “If you don't do it, you will die.”

“You must listen to me…”

“Don't you dare talk to me like you know me.”

He stayed silent and you gave him a little push to keep him going. When you two entered you observed the people scattered around the place.

"Guys…"

“Oh, heya, Sammy.” Commented a man who had his back turned. “How is she?”

No one turned their gaze towards you, they were quite busy reading.

“Why don't you ask her instead?” Your voice echoed through the room, making everyone turn around.

Those who were sitting stood up and stuck their noses out of the books. Each one seemed to be going through different emotions.

“I don't have time for this.” You growled. “Each of you will release what you have in your hand and hold it high. You will then head over and stand in the middle of the room. If anyone makes a sudden movement, I swear I will give him a big cut on their back.

“How did I not prevent it?” Lamented one wearing a trench coat.

“Do what I said.” You ordered.

Everyone obeyed and went to the center of the place, standing side by side.

“Now that there is order you will answer my questions.”

“The angel ruined it again.” A bearded man in a suit rolled his eyes.

“…And no one will speak unless it is to answer my questions.” You continued.

The room fell silent.

“What am I doing here?” You asked.

They exchanged glances.

“You live here.”

“I don't think I explained myself well.” You pressed the needle against Sammy's back.

"Wait!" The one in the rain trench coat exclaimed. “We are honest with you.”

"Did you have an accident." One with green eyes followed.

You softened your grip because he didn't seem to be lying. But you couldn't risk it. You weren't sure if they worked for someone or alone.

“Let's say I believe you. Tell me what is happening.”

“How much do you remember?” Asked an older man in a cap

“I ask the questions, old man.” You answered.

“Okay, okay. Let's start again. You are part of us…”

“You had an accident that left you in a coma.” Another followed.

“I don't remember any accident…”

“It seems that you lost your memory.”

“The question is…” The one in the suit looked at you curiously, studying you. "How much?"

You looked at each one of them. The only thing that made sense of his entire story was memory loss. That would be the answer to all your questions. They seemed confident when they spoke, even when one of their own was under threat.

At that moment, you remembered Charlie.

“Where is-?”

“Guys, something happened to my…”

You turned around, seeing Charlie, who was rushing into the living room.

“Bitch…” She whispered.

In your distraction, that man snatched your weapon and pushed you. You tried to get closer, but he pointed it at you. You sighed defeated and raised your hands.

But he, instead of continuing to point the needle at you, threw it on the ground, which surprised you. You lowered your hands as you looked at Charlie.

“What is happening?” You asked her.

“Something happened to you and you lost your memory.” The one in the raincoat explained instead.

“But… I don't understand…”

“Don't worry, you're safe here. We are your family.”

"Family?"

“What is the last thing you remember?”

“I…” You ran a hand through your hair. “I remember surviving with you, Charlie.”

She was thoughtful and something clicked in her mind. After the death of her parents and finding you, many years had passed in which you survived every day.

Everyone exchanged glances with each other, observing the conversation.

“What's going on?”

“That happened a long time ago, little sister.”

“I don't understand… How much exactly?”

Charlie walked over to you and held both of your hands.

“It was many years ago… Many years…”

Loca's notes: Ha! It's true that I deceived you. Summing up the prologue ahead of time is a gift of joy to you, my precious followers. Comment what you think, I love you!

Dean Winchester Series/Mini Series

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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[mortalityplays]

a bunch of things that I know are going to sound really corny (which honestly I think is half the cultural problem - the idea that non-coercive parenting is touchy-feely, ineffectual or just kind of cringe - but that could be a whole other post)

the main thing was that they always explained things to me. if I wanted something I couldn't have, they explained why (from 'we can't afford that', 'it's bad for you', 'it's dangerous', all the way up to 'it's made by a big company that treats its workers badly, and we don't want to give them money'). If I threw a tantrum, they either waited it out until I got tired and bored or they redirected what we were doing ('we have to be patient and wait in line. if we don't wait in line, we can't go into the theatre. we can't wait in line if you scream and upset people. okay then, we're going home.')

beyond that, they always spoke to me like a full person. they asked my opinion on things and took it seriously, and asked me why as much as I asked them. apparently I had a phase as a toddler where I always wanted to be the first one on the swings / down the slide, and would throw almighty fits about it, until my mum took me aside one day and said 'why do you want to be first? are you worried the slide will get used up?' I laughed like it was the funniest thing I'd ever heard, and never kicked up a fuss about taking turns after that.

on the granular level, they focused on positives over negatives. My mum would draw little good behaviour charts for me, featuring e.g. me walking a long winding path through the woods with my soft toys. the path would be made up of, say, 30 stones, and every day that I was well behaved I'd earn a sticker on one of them. when I reached the end of the path, I got to pick a treat. something like a new plastic animal for my collection, or a day trip to the aquarium.

I do remember them sitting me down once and asking me to come up with what I thought would be an appropriate punishment if I ever did something really bad. I think my first suggestion was something like 'no TV', which was a real nice try because we didn't have a TV at the time. I don't remember what I finally decided on, it might have been 'no dessert for a week'. We wrote it down together and I signed my name, and they sealed it in an important looking envelope which they put in my dad's filing cabinet (for important documents). This would be unsealed if I ever did something Really Bad. the eventuality never came up, but the act of participating in the exercise kept me mostly on the straight and narrow. It's funny, the conceptual punishment itself wasn't even that bad. It was the seriousnes of the adult commitment I'd made to Behaving Well that did the trick.

When I DID do the standard naughty stuff, my parents would just sit me down and explain to me seriously why it was wrong and what impact it had caused for other people. They'd ask what motivated me, and why I acted on those feelings in that specific way. They would, of course, tell me they were disappointed. If necessary, they would tell me how things would have to change as a result of what I'd done. They were always, always open to hearing out my side of the story, and always, always took my feelings seriously even if they disapproved of my behaviour. they would ask if I was ready to say sorry and get a hug. if I wasn't ready, if I was still upset or angry, they would give me space in my room and ask me to come find them when I wanted to make up. and I always did, because I always knew they would accept it.

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[sir-adamus]

Same anon from before, I'm pretty new to the FNDM (I started it back in the summer) so let's say I was pretty fucking confused when I searched up the show on social media and saw all the negativity surrounding it. Like, if the show was super controversial then I would understand, but it's pretty much on the same level on most western cartoons nowadays

I need someone to enlighten me on why RWBY in particular is so dogpiled on... I don't know if it's the audience that Monty-era attracted or bad luck or what but it's just annoying we have to put up with it constantly

You know that one comic panel of the guy sat in the pool who's being laughed at because he's the only one who didn't pee in the water? Yeah that perfectly encapsulates what it's like when you say anything good or positive about RWBY 😭

the show attracted a demographic of buzzkill assholes from the moment it started who decided it was the new thing to mock and shit on, because it was 2013 and we were still in the height of the era of irony poisoning where being genuine or caring about anything made you a subject of mockery - so an amateur show that wasn't perfect from the word jump and genuinely believed in the story it was telling was the perfect punching bag for a crowd of losers desperate to make themselves look cool to all the other irony-poisoned losers

i think after that they stuck around simply because the show didn't shrivel up and die like they convinced themselves that it would (to the point that they have now deluded themselves into believing that nobody ever liked the show and that it was never successful which is hilarious considering the international success it's seen and, oh yeah, nine seasons, a spinoff anime, multiple books, multiple games and two movies), so it just became sunk cost fallacy - if they admit they wasted all this time shitting on a show that provably is a success, then they look like idiots. sticking to their guns, continuing to try and parasocially bully a web cartoon under the belief that eventually they'll convince everyone that it's bad and it'll disappear forever and prove that they're smarter than everyone else, and won't make them look like weird pathetic losers and idiots at all

like you have to be a special kind of weird and pathetic to create a subreddit just for shitting on a web series under the guise of 'criticism' (like, guys, you're not critics. you have no qualifications in media studies, you provably have no understanding of media production. you're dumbasses whining on the internet about a show you don't like. and it's weird), that is primarily screenshotting positivity on social media and whining about it in your little circlejerk (and then harassing anyone who complains about being harassed by these morons because you're incapable of any kind of self-awareness, and yes i am talking about one specific idiot in this example, he was doing that shit this morning)

it's like, the sunk cost desperation to avoid admitting being wrong, and an utterly pathetic desperation for attention - the contrarian, the devil's advocate, the dickhead who always has an opinion that is intentionally inflammatory just to get a reaction. and because these losers are holed up in their little circlejerk all the time it's given them a completely warped idea of acceptable behaviour and they will just be unpleasant little slimes not just in response to fans posting fanart and fanfic but to the creatives involved, actors, artists, animators, the creator's own brother - there is no depth they won't stoop to because ignoring reality in favour of being 'right' matters more to them than any basic sense of decency

and i invite them to go outside, up to some stranger on the street and act like that and see where it gets them

[crownmemes]

Warning Sentences

(Sentences for warning muses of upcoming trouble. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"You've lost your reputation, and a reputation's life glass: once cracked it can never be repaired."

"Say that again and your career is over."

"I'm trying to warn your that your attitude is going to bite you in the ass!"

"I warned you; don't get involved."

"Once you've opened your heart, you can't close it again."

"If you think I'm the type who won't shoot you in the back, you're wrong."

"Let me make it clear to you that you are in no position to dictate terms."

"Bite my hand, and I will put you down."

"Be careful. You're too beautiful to die."

"There was a time when I would have gladly killed you, and there may come a time when I gladly shall."

"I'd tread very carefully if I were you. You, of all people, should know what I am capable of."

"Before you speak another word, I ask you to consider this: how valuable is your life?"

"You're causing everybody quite a bit of trouble. If you want a word of warning: don't keep it up."

"If you keep going where you're going, you're going to find trouble - whether it was there to begin with or not."

"I warned you not to succumb to temptation!"

"The danger is not over. It's just begun."

"You'll end up falling out with everyone if you carry on like this!"

"I'm warning you once: stay away from things that are none of your business."

"From now on, you will stay out of this. "

"A wise man would walk away from this house and make a concerted effort to forget everything that occurred last night."

"Don't you know it's dangerous to sneak up on an armed man?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to destroy you."

"Don't look for it. You may not like what you find."

"This whole thing is a trap!"

"If you want to live to see another day, you'll be out of town by nightfall."

"Do I need to remind you what happened last time you pushed me too far?"

"You're either really dumb, or you're trying to provoke me, which also makes you really dumb."

"Sometimes, what we wake up can't be put back to sleep."

"You've used the threat of violence against my family twice now, for the sake of your own personal well-being, I really wouldn't again."

"You're not going to survive coming after me."

"You are delving into areas over which you have no authority."

"I'm warning you; no more questions!"

"If this continues, it won't be long until you've got nothing left."

"You're coming up on your last chance to turn back."

"I must warn you that my patience is not inexhaustible."

"We stay out of other people's business out here, if you catch my drift."

"Don't ever defy me again."

"I warned you, but you didn't heed me."

"Don't ask again or I'll kill you."

"I must warn you, you are about to set a very dangerous precedent."

"Mark my words: I'm not one to play games."

"You should be more afraid of me."

[kitana-coldfire]

Hello, Sno4wy.

Well. Ain't this a bitch of an unsatisfactory situation you've put me in.

Not Simprock, not Robyn, not Mackey– you, Snowy. No one else.

Now, before we go any further: You claimed in the now-'archived’ (read: deleted) harassment support thread in EO that you didn't send that document to anyone except Gerald, specifically because– and I quote: “the document isn’t okay for sharing publicly.as it is” [sic], but that “[you’ve] not granted permission to it to anyone but Gerald”.

Wow. Well, I had my suspicions before, but I was almost kinda glad to get the hard confirmation that you never really cared about me enough to consider me ‘anyone’.

But the fact of the matter is: you sent that document to me unprompted on January 30th, 2025 (ostensibly as the 'receipts' you've been promising for months now). Why did you send it to me? Hell if I know, cause I sure never asked to see it! You just... gave it to me. And now here we are.

Now, I don't expect you to actually read this (after all, you've got quite the track record of refusing to read anything you consider to be ‘DARVO’ing you), I’m just gonna go ahead and consider this an open letter and move on.

Though, if you are reading this: for the record? I didn't want to do this; drag myself out in the open, air your dirty laundry for all to see. Sure you blocked my DMs and timed me out on EO, but did I do anything about it? No, I rolled my eyes and got back to work on censoring the very dangerous document you had unceremoniously foisted upon me:

And here’s the kicker: I had every intention of keeping this private; or, well, mostly private.

I will admit, once I finished scrubbing the doc of the personal and private medical information that you failed to redact yourself before just handing it off to me (for some ungodly reason), my plan at that point was to simply open a ticket, go: "Hey, it seems Snowy blocked me and put me in timeout before I could get the censored version of this document back to him like I promised I would multiple times. Please ensure it gets into his hands", and then just leave the matter be.

After all, whatever fallout you faced behind the scenes after weaponizing your position and lying about not sending it to anyone else due to it being NOT OKAY TO SHARE PUBLICLY by your own admission wouldn’t be my problem, it'd be yours. I’d have followed the rules, cleared my conscience, and would’ve been able to wash my hands of you forever with my head held high.

Granted, you never actually asked me to censor the document either, but that's not entirely surprising now because, after looking back at our chat logs, I realized you never even attempted to get to know me past what you assumed to be true. If you had, you'd have learned that not only am I a “known lover of walls of text”, but that I also do not take kindly to hypocrisy and manipulative behavior. And upon further review, the record clearly shows that you displayed both of those in spades during our (blessedly) few interactions.

Funnily enough though, the record will also show that you never once contacted me unless you wanted something from me; namely, for me to get involved in your personal harassment drama in some way (which you actually acknowledged I wanted no part of!)

But at the same time: I was already exposed to the information you sent me, so I felt that personally ensuring the censorship of the private medical information you dropped in my lap apropos of nothing– on people who are complete strangers to me, no less!– was simply the ethical and moral thing to do to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands.

That said: I'll be the first to admit I made a mistake in that I did forget to inform you that I had begun work on censoring the document in your stead. That was completely on me, and I apologize once again for my failure to communicate that in a more timely manner:

But I’m sure you’ll be willing to cut me some slack; after all, I was distressed by your egregious lack of basic decency.

Also, don't even bother trying to turn the fact that I made a copy around on me; I outright told you I did (you never once commented on that fact, either).

...then again, you also admitted you didn't even look at the body of the document before just sending it off to a stranger on the internet– but we'll get to all that soon enough.

Unfortunately, however, it seems that being a self-centered asshole just wasn't enough for you, as just a few hours after being timed out for a week, I woke up to find myself kicked– actually, no, banned– from EO, despite me clarifying that this was NOT an EO matter; because it wasn't. By and large, this was an issue between you and me, and aside from me getting the document to you, no one else from EO needed to get involved out in the open.

I was trying to follow the rules. I was trying to settle this privately as requested; keep it outside of the server to the best of my ability considering the ethical dilemma this document posed.

Quick sidebar: To the mod I contacted regarding this matter (and you know who you are), please feel free to DM me again if your “ears” are actually as open as you claim they were a few days back, because I’ll be happy to discuss the matter of Snowy harassing me in DMs for months on end– which you didn’t even give me the chance to explain one-on-one before blocking me– in greater detail!

Though I would suggest you read what I’m linking at the bottom of this post first before doing so. Don’t worry, its only, like 70-ish pages long and mostly screenshots (which is also much shorter than the approximately 300 page document Snowy handed off to me last week!). Still, take your time! I'll be waiting.

Anyway, let's take a look at the reason I got ousted from EO, shall we? (With a small addendum that I didn’t contact anyone I knew only from the server, and I had ample reason to believe that contacting them would be okay. Still, I recognize I misspoke in this message you never saw, and I apologize):

Huh. Interesting. Now, I’d ask to see copies of the DMs I sent people I knew only from EO to warrant a ban of that nature, but I know neither Snowy nor any of the other mods will be able to produce them. Because they don’t exist.

In fact, I resolved not to contact the single individual I recognized only from EO whose username and screenshots were used in the document (just to ask them how they'd like to have their information handled, mind you); I was going to simply censor it as a courtesy and leave it at that.

I was truly trying to do everything I could to stay within the letter of the law given the circumstances I had been put in to AVOID a ban on these grounds, as per the moratorium the mods placed on the subject on February 5th, 2025:

Still, while it’s upsetting to get ousted from a server, it's actually not my first rodeo in that regard; back in October, I (and about 60 other people) were kicked out of Simprock in what's been colloquially dubbed 'The Kickening'/[vaguely gestures] and I'm not gonna lie: It hurt. It still hurts. But this isn't about that; or at least, not at this very second.

Again: this is about you, Snowy, and your actions alone. Because even after all that, I was still willing to do everything I could to prevent bringing this out into the open; after all, you said it yourself: I wanted to maintain a 'guise of neutrality'. I didn’t want to get involved.

...that was, riiiiight up until the moment I checked our DM history, and saw that you had deleted every. single. message, in what I could only assume to be a blatant attempt to shut me up and destroy all evidence of your wrongdoing.

And just like that? You pushed my 'bitch' button. Sucks for you.

Because like I said: this is not my first rodeo; I knew to have the entirety of our interaction screenshotted and archived before I sent my final post. Of course, I hoped I wouldn't need those records but... well. When dealing with a near stranger who is oddly belligerent to someone I consider a friend, I knew it was best to be prepared. And– to the detriment of my free time at large for the past few days– I've since gone through and annotated said screenshots in excruciating detail, to provide context for my side of the story. Don't worry though! I censored stuff like your friend's real name out, because I agree– there are ethical considerations to apply.

Oh, and don’t even bother crying about them being faked; I have a video of me scrolling through our messages from top to bottom; two, actually! One from before you scrubbed your messages and one from after. Sadly, I can’t post them publicly at the moment because I haven’t had the time to scrub the sensitive stuff out– like your friend's real first name. Nor can I post the link to the document that you sent me (that I didn’t fucking ask for), because you were so right in that regard: It is NOT safe for the public to see in the state you sent it to me in.

Now, for those curious about what the 'Gerald Document' is actually about: For the most part, it details an interpersonal fallout between Gerald's wife's IRL friend group– people I have never even met, mind you, aside from maybe a passing interaction here or there in one case– thus, I can’t really pass judgement on the situation that led to the document's creation past… I dunno? "Everyone involved in this matter kinda sucks, but Snowy sucks infinitely more for passing people's personal and private medical information off to me without their consent."

There, you can jot that down as my official take on the matter.

So, tl;dr:

On January 30th, 2025 between the hours of 12:40 and 2:14AM CST Snowy exposed personal and private medical information on two people to me without their knowledge or consent via the document he is claiming to be his ‘receipts’ in his Twitter post dated December 12th, 2024. Additionally, he exposed even more private medical information on a third person via the ‘conversation log’ he was also offering up in EO on February 3rd, 2025.

Now, please keep in mind: I'm about to prove I never asked to see that document, I only requested and agreed to look over the chat logs he offered me over private message between him and my friend in the hopes of mediating a misunderstanding. And that request was only made under the unspoken understanding that he'd learned his lesson from the doxxing incident a few months back. Spoiler alert: He didn’t (and actually acknowledged he violated that agreement. Again!)

All in all though, Snowy sent the following to me completely unprompted on January 30th, 2025:

"Brown" and Jules’ private medical information (as well as Robyn's via unredacted chat logs)

"Brown" and Jules’ real first names

"Brown" and Kellie’s discord handles

Jac and Goot’s real names again via the SAME doxxing screenshot he posted on X on December 12th, 2024

Now, aside from the doxxing screenshot (and, unfortunately, “Brown's” real name, I later recalled), I didn't know any of that information before I read that document. Additionally, seven? (I say ‘?’ because I’m not actually done censoring the damn thing yet, so there very well could be more by the time I get through!) people’s usernames/pfp’s– who weren’t even relevant/involved in the issue being discussed– were left unredacted as well. Keeping those names in wasn't necessary in the slightest, either; most of the time they just happened to be around the conversation at hand. 

And yeah, you read that right: I’m still gonna censor it myself. Because that’s the ethical thing to do. Now, what I do with it afterwards… well, you blocked me, so… I guess it’ll be mine to do with as I wish!

Great. A 300-ish page manifesto that wasn't even relevant to the situation at present, penned in Sno4wy's own hand. Just what I always wanted. (Like seriously, man, you couldn't even list the estimated page count right?)

A few final words:

To Jules, “Brown”, (and Robyn): I'm so sorry I learned all of this information because Snowy betrayed your trust and sent me this documentation unedited. If I had realized at the time, I swear I never would have blindly made a copy to annotate when he sent it over.

But in my defense: the document was NOT locked down in any way aside from requiring Snowy to grant access, and when I checked the history it had been last edited in July. I genuinely thought he had learned his lesson after December and sent me something that had already been scrubbed, but it’s clear enough now that he didn’t learn a goddamn thing.

What he did to you was morally reprehensible of him, and I promise to do everything that I possibly can to ensure your information is censored correctly. That said: Jules, “Brown”– if either one of you would like me to send you a copy after I’m done to ensure I didn’t miss anything, I’m sure we have mutual contacts who would be happy to make that happen.

To Snowy (even though I doubt you're actually reading this): I truly hope you're happy, because you finally got what you wished for– I got involved. Congrats, I guess! But now, aside from censoring the document and figuring out what the hell to do with it afterwards… yeah. I'm pretty much done. But let me make one thing VERY clear: this is not an escalation; this is not a ‘DARVO’; this is not an attack.

This is me simply doing what I’ve been pushed to do, in order to ensure my side of the story was heard after you wronged and harassed me for months on end, ultimately resulting in you turning multiple people into victims with just a click of a button.

A side of the story you tried to silence. Deliberately.

Additionally, if you or ANY of your so-called 'friends' try to harass/contact/include me, my family members, and/or my place of work in your ridiculous drama you dragged me into, I will be taking that as a threat and deliberate retaliation against me for speaking up after being wronged.

So on that note, before I link the document to my complete annotated chat history with Snowy spanning from May 19, 2024 - February 6th, 2025, I’d like to leave my final (censored) DMs here as well just as a summary of what’s to come because... well, what can I say? When my ‘bitch’ button gets pressed, I don’t fuck around. I make people find out.

Goodbye, Snowy. For what it’s worth, I genuinely hope you get the help you so desperately need, but I also hope you have the day you ultimately deserve.

Then again, why would you start caring about what I want now? I'm not 'anyone', after all.