#is it possible to derail your own post?

[bendrownedbodypillow]

I can't put into words how angry I get when someone derails a physically disabled post

[ablueberryblogs]

I don't know what trans man need to hear this but you're allowed to be angry. It doesn't make you evil. You are allowed to experience all possible emotions without apology and still be a good man.

*this is about trans men specifically, do not derail. You are free to make your own post*

[19catsncounting]

I Got Really Into Anti/Proship Discourse And Read +30 Academic Studies - My Findings

(It’s a Yapfest but the whole post is a very long essay and study on morality and fiction and children’s safety and rape culture with a fuckton of freely accessible academic articles and resources on the subject, and I want to talk to other people about it. For a shorter abstract with all the articles and more easily ignored yapping, see my shiny new Carrd:)

It’s been a little shocking lately to have certain discussions with some parts of fandom. I spoke about shipping/harassment and how that contributes to the death of fandom on TikTok assuming that younger folks are just really, really intense about preventing sexual violence, but the more I saw the words “morally wrong” and “disgusting” and “addiction,” the more I thought about this guy-

That’s Jerry Falwell, and I fucking hate this dead guy. You see, Jerry Falwell was a preacher who hated porn, feminism, and homosexuality. And I'm seeing his rhetoric and reworked quotes a lot.

Jerry would say stuff like:

“Pornography hurts anyone who reads it - garbage in, garbage out.”

“Someone must not be afraid to say ‘moral perversion is wrong.’ If we do not act now, homosexuals will ‘own’ America!”

Jerry wanted people to believe that it’s possible to see so much sexual content that it warps your sexuality, because he was gay and wanted to think that was due to thinking about gay sex too much. Jerry did not have a lot of evidence to prove that homosexuality was harmful, so he relied heavily on how “morally distasteful” it seemed to be to suburban Americans.

I spent the majority of my teen years arguing against Jerry’s rhetoric for the right to live as a lesbian online, and I never thought I’d see morality rhetoric in people I’m otherwise very politically aligned with. And I definitely never thought fandom of all things, in all its beautiful subversive glory, would seriously start advocating for censorship, anti-porn, and to consume fanwork with moral purity.

So, I’d like to have a deeper discussion on it, both here on Tumblr and on TikTok, but that does mean checking a few things at the door:

Personal feelings decide your personal life. What you feel is valid for you, not anyone else.

In general, things that do not cause direct and undeniable harm should not be broadly prohibited just because they’re weird or distasteful to the majority of folks. Ex. Loitering does not cause harm and is a tool of systemic oppression.

The discussion of “fictional CSEM” is the most inflammatory fork of this and it is often used to derail these kinds of conversations. This is all I will say on it - the legal status of explicit visual depictions of minors is muddy. In the US, there is just one dude in Utah who pled guilty for possessing explicit lolicon he bought by mail order without also possessing CSEM with real children, and explicit writing about fictional minors has been settled as protected free speech. Dedicated organizations from the NCMEC to Chris Hansen have asked that fictional content is not reported as CSAM as it is not actionable and clogs up finite resources. 90% of NCMEC reports were not actionable last year. There are studies suggesting that virtual CSEM or other non-victim alternatives could reduce actual child harm, but there is need for further research.

We’re all in agreement that untagged NSFW is not cool, and kids deserve kid-only sections of the internet. People who are triggered by or dislike problematic content deserve to be able to not see it. 👍

 (I’ve seen the argument that blocking tags/people should not be required - sorry, PTSD still requires that you manage your triggers, up to and including swearing off platforms just as I have sworn off bars/soap brands/etc to avoid my triggers.)

I have found a lot of accessible and free articles and studies that I will link throughout so that we can discuss the fact-based reasoning, in an effort to have a civil conversation.

(Also because we are not flat earthers, we are Fandom, and if we’re going to be annoying little shitheels in an “Um Actually” contest, we’re going to have the sources to back it up.)

Minors and Explicit Material

I’m not supporting minors engaging with explicit material. I have such little interest in the subject that I’m not even going to bring in articles, but you can feel free to. I personally engaged with explicit material as a preteen of my own free will and did not find it to be harmful, and the majority of people throughout human history have been exposed to explicit material at an early age with varying degrees of harm. There are undeniable legal and harm-driven differences between a 12 year old girl looking at Hustler on her own, a 14 year old boy being sent nudes from a grown woman, and a 6 year old viewing PornHub. (And I think the guardians of that 6 year old should be charged with grooming just like the woman, tbh.)

Personal Disclaimer

I’m an adult survivor of CSA and incest. I’m a happily married adult. I don’t personally like lolicon/shotacon/kodocon. I don’t like kids. I don’t like teens. I’m personally not attracted to underage fictional characters. I have family, the idea of fucking any of them makes me want to throw up and die, so I don’t write or read RPF of my family.

I am really, really fucking intense about preventing sexual violence, supporting survivors, and fandom, which is where this all comes from.

I read and love problematic fiction - my favorites are ASOIAF, Lolita, and VC Andrews. The most “problematic” thing I’ve personally written are Lucifer/Michael fics from Supernatural back in 2012. They are “brothers” in CW Christ, not blood. They do not have any blood.

Gen Z and Online Grooming

In 2002, a survey of 1500 minors from 10-17 found that 4% had been solicited for sexual purposes by an adult online.

In 2023, that number increased to 20%.

While the linked 2023 Thorn report suggests that the vast majority of these inappropriate interactions happened on platforms that allow for interpersonal communication, which by and large minors were greatly discouraged from and had less access to in the early 2000’s, a trauma-informed approach does not allow for blame to fall on the children. The guardians of those children have monumentally failed to restrict and educate before giving children the means to access those platforms.

It is my uncited but personal opinion that the increased rate of grooming, as well as an increased interest in combating rape culture, has led to well-intentioned individuals to become digital vigilantes attacking those who they hold responsible for their traumatic experiences in a search for catharsis and justice denied for themselves as well as a desire to make the internet safer for other children, whom they are increasingly aware are entering online spaces unsupervised at distressingly young ages.

Is harassment and bullying bad for perpetrators of it?

Before we get into how ship-related hate campaigns do not affect predation or combat rape culture, we should acknowledge that it’s actually pretty harmful for the people who cyberbully. Not just in the legal/social consequences, but people who participate in cyberbullying and cyberhate campaigns have higher rates of depression, estrangement from their parents, self-effacing habits, social anxiety, lower empathy, and so forth.

One study suggests that the treatment and prohibitive for cyberbullying, which contributes to a culture of cyberhate and a lower likelihood to report or confront other incidents of harassment or toxicity online, can be combatted with media competency to increase empathy along with other important life skills.

Some Common Pro-Censorship Myths

“Pornography is Addictive/Consumption of Pornography Leads to Increasingly Hardcore Imagery And Ultimately Real-World Violence” - The American Psychological Association does not recognize Porn Addiction as real and the DSM-5 does not classify it as an addiction. Additionally, many methods used in articles claiming that porn is addictive or causes users to seek out more hardcore material were flawed or biased. There is actually some evidence that compulsive porn use, the closest you can get to a porn addiction diagnosis, is associated with shame and the user’s belief that pornography is morally wrong, which sex-negative attitudes encourage.

“Jaws caused shark culling” - That's unfortunately a simplification that ignores a LOT of surrounding context. WW2’s modern naval battles with an increase of ship sinkings and thus contact with sharks prompted the invention and use of shark repellant by aviators and sailors in the 1940’s. The most deadly and famous shark attack of all time was the USS Indianapolis sinking in 1945, which led to 12-150 deaths. The 1974 book Jaws by Peter Benchley, which was the entire basis of the movie, was inspired by One Fucking Dude who started shark hunting tours and overall seemed to have a really immaculate vibe. The interstate highways that finished in the 1950’s increased beach tourism in the 60’s and onwards, inspiring the American surf culture, further increasing the cultural desire to purge sharks for the new swath of beachgoers and their fondness for using surfboards which make them look like seals to sharks. Additionally, 1975’s Jaws inspired a huge desire for education about sharks, and the relationship between problematic media and education will be the core of this yapperoni pizza.

“The Slendermen Killings/Other Fiction Inspired Crimes” - The ACLU states that “There is no evidence that fiction has ever driven a sane person to violence.” Inspired crimes are indeed no less tragic, and thankfully rare, but people who suffer from inability to discern reality and fiction do not necessarily need fiction to commit violence. The “Son of Sam” murder spree was not inspired by a book or movie, but instead Berkowitz’ auditory hallucinations.

“Violent videogames DO cause violence” - After a great deal of funding and study, the American Psychological Association has concluded that teens and younger may have increased feelings of aggression and not necessarily physically violent outbursts as a direct effect, but older teens and young adults do not encounter statistically meaningful rates of aggression.

“Your brain can’t tell the difference between fiction and reality” - Factually incorrect. Children as young as 5 years old can tell the difference, and they can even be more suspicious about “facts” that come from sources they know also host fiction, such as TV shows.

“This stuff shouldn’t be online because it can be used to groom a child” - While I could not find specific statistics on how often pornography is used to desensitize child victims, nor how often that is specifically used in online grooming, and especially not how much of that pornography is made from fictional characters - out of a mixed group of convicted offenders with adult and child victims, 55% of offenders used pornography to manipulate their victim. I would never refute that explicit fanart or fanfic could be used to desensitize a child, but that is by far not the only tool (asking about sexual experiences/identity, making jokes, etc is extremely common grooming behavior), and there is no evidence to suggest that it is used to a statistically significant degree. In my own anecdotal experience, normal vanilla legal pornography is used with far greater prevalence, and there isn’t a similar movement to shame its production for that possibility. Nor should the creators of any material, pornographic or otherwise, share blame in the actions of a predator.

The Fiction Affects Reality Carrd

(No hate to the person who made it, in fact I give props to them for trying to find unbiased sources, I just want to point out that their interpretations of their articles are kinda flawed and one of their studies is a kind of a perfect example on small and culturally biased samples.)

Reading Fiction Impacts Aggressive Behavior - (I cannot access the full study but this article is the primary source used in the Carrd and it goes into detail) - A study showed that 67 university students were more annoyed with a loud buzzer after reading a short story about a physical fight between roommates compared to a story with nonviolent revenge. However, this study was conducted at Brigham Young University, the same campus where we got a whole video series of hot ethical takes like “I’d rather shoot a kitten than drink coffee,” so uh. Yeah. Kind of a prime example on why it’s important to have large and culturally varied sampling. (Another BYU study with 137 BYU students being odd about moral ambiguity in fiction, just because I’m starting to add Dr. Sarah M. Coyne to my list of “Sarah’s That I Dislike.”)

Your Brain on Fiction - a NYT article that describes Theory of the Mind and how fMRIs captured how readers’ minds would light up centers of muscle control when reading sentences like “Peter kicked.” The quote “The brain, it seems, does not make much of a distinction between reading about an experience and encountering it in real life; in each case, the same neurological regions are stimulated” is speaking of motor functions. Emotional centers of the brain were not included in the study.

How Fiction Changes Your World - a Boston Globe article that actually describes how people who read more fiction are more empathetic and tend to believe in a just world. It does not state that the empathy a reader feels for fictional characters extends to corrupting their moral compass. In fact, there’s such a thing as a “fictive license” to explore taboo themes more thoroughly because it is not real - 123 participants were interviewed after watching two actors play the part of detective and murderer being interviewed, and participants who were told it was fake had more varied and inquisitive responses.

The Social Impact of Books - Actually reuses the previous study about the just world, so point remains. Empathy is understanding, not mirroring.

Is Problematic Fiction Good for Survivors of Trauma?

It absolutely depends on the individual.

Writing expressively about traumatic experiences has been shown to be effective to reduce depression, or more effective in reducing dysphoria and anxiety than talking to fellow survivors, and Written Exposure Therapy is broadly prescribed to survivors of trauma, with one study centering on car crash survivors finding that WET resolved their PTSD symptoms and continued to be effective after a year.

In this study, which sadly is not available online but it is too important to leave out completely, survivors of CSA were given fictional novels about CSA and in closely reading and analyzing those stories, were able to understand their own experiences and were indeed drawn to write about their own experiences as well.

Engaging in problematic fiction, like all fiction, allows for consent as well as control. If at any point a survivor does not feel in control or wishes to stop, they can at that instant. They can even rewrite their narratives and take control of their story in fictionalizing and changing the account. They can even try to understand what their abuser felt through fiction, which is helpful considering that the vast majority of survivors had a relationship that had been positive and even loving with their abusers at times.

Is Problematic Fiction Good for Everyone Else?

It again depends on the individual.

Antis might be a little right that most people don't want to read problematic stories. In a study exploring whether fiction can corrode morals, 83% of study participants stated that they would prefer not to read a short story justifying baby murder if they had the choice, even if that exploration isn’t inherently harmful.

This very small sample study of 13 participants discussed how young women interpreted sexual themes in writing, including explicit fanfiction, and how that was beneficial and informative to explore sexual desire and examine healthy and unhealthy relationships in a safe and controlled environment.

This meta-analysis further discusses how problematic and sexual themes in YA literature are useful to illustrate what sexual violence looks like, and begin educational conversations through those depictions to break down harmful myths such as “if she didn’t scream, she wanted it.”

Empowered by the “Fictive License” previously cited, problematic fiction can be beneficial for anyone who desires and is capable of consuming and analyzing it.

This study analyzing abusive aspects of three films - Beauty and the Beast, Twilight, and 50 Shades of Gray - concluded that these abusive themes should be discussed to increase recognition and awareness, not censored based on those problematic themes.

This study of 53 women were asked to read different versions of fictional intimate partner violence flags, or “toxic behavior” like surveillance, control, etc. In every version of the story, whether the female or male had those behaviors either courting or committed, the women recognized the behavior as wrong.

Another study that reading allows for the moral laboratory to explore morality in fiction without decisive impact to corroding moral permissibility.

Is There Ever Any Point Where Fictional Interests Definitively Speak On Someone’s Morality?

In short - not really. Loving Jason Vorhees does not put you at risk of murdering campers as long as you know he’s not real. Writing Wincest does not mean you look forward to family reunions, as long as you know incest isn’t okay in the real world. The real world, where real people are harmed, is where you find the measure of someone’s character.

This Psychology Today article is the best source I could find for quotes from a fantastic book ‘Who's Been Sleeping in Your Head? The Secret World of Sexual Fantasies’ by Brett Kahr regarding taboo sexual fantasies and how they are not only common, but not inherently harmful.

There are people who enjoy problematic media in an entirely nonsexual sense, of course. I myself don’t get off on problematic media - I think it’s just interesting to explore different experiences, and I think that can be revolutionary.

Additionally, fantasies in general have almost always been in the vein of “things you don’t want to really happen in reality.” In a study of 351 asexuals, more than half reported that they fantasize about having sex, but that doesn’t mean that they actually want to. You can fantasize about dating Billie Eilish - it doesn’t mean that you’d be happy dealing with celebrity culture.

(I personally fantasize about the internet being just for adults, but in practice I think that would be incredibly harmful and isolating for at-risk youth and LGBTQ teens) Fantasies always pluck out only the bits of reality that you want to engage with.

If You Get Off On Fictional Kids, You’re Attracted to Something About Them Being Kids

Not inherently, surprisingly. Wearing a schoolgirl uniform is a pretty common roleplay, and it’s not meant to “fool” the participants into thinking they’re indulging in pedophilia. There’s a wealth of emotional and sexual nuance in that specific kink - innocence and virginity play, tilted power dynamics in ‘scolding’ the uniform wearer for dress code violations, even the concept of a sexually provocative “teenager” can be played with without shame, because the world of fetish and fantasy is separated from condonable actions for the vast, vast majority of adults. (The only study I could find on this is this small study of 100 white guys found on Facebook, which itself states it is not definitive, found that while there might be correlation between attraction to children and interest in schoolgirl uniforms, there is no proof of causation. AKA, the rectangular pedophile might indeed like square schoolgirl uniforms, but not everyone - in fact, the majority at nearly 60% in this very survey - that likes square schoolgirl uniforms is a rectangular pedophile.)

Even sexual age play between adults is not indicative of pedophilia because it exists in a setting between two adults who fully understand that the mechanics are completely fake, allowing the power dynamics that would be abusive between an adult and child to be ethically explored.

I don’t have an official-looking study to cite, but I have asked people who like content about underage fictional characters why they do so. Overwhelmingly, a lot of the ones who like underage age gaps like the fantasy of an older and more experienced character taking a younger one under their wing, to have the opportunity to commit violent and blatantly objectifying harm and yet try to create what inevitably does not truly pass as consent, but seems near enough to the characters. Some think that the characters themselves have an interesting chemistry. Some read underage fic and still imagine the characters as adults. Some like to explore the feelings of shame that the older character must feel and how they mentally compartmentalize to go forward with the relationship, and how the younger character found themself in that vulnerable position - which is exploring a harmful situation through fiction to understand how it could play out in real life.

People who like fictional incest like exploring the shameful components of that taboo relationship - and I have seen a lot of works that compare how bad incest could be to other harms, like the Gravecest route in a game with parental cannibalism. And then there are folks who like analyzing the codependency of having one person fulfill every social need - family, friend, lover, AKA Wincest.

What makes a predator if it’s not just sexual attraction?

90% of CSA survivors know their abuser, discrediting the still-entirely-too-popular Stranger Danger myth. And shockingly, only 50% of abusers are pedophiles.

That means 50% of child molesters do not have sexual interest in children because they are children, but they victimized children because they are more accessible in lieu of adult partners, with increased rates of incest.

While I could not find a specific study on the relation between dehumanization/objectification of child victims and child molesters (and if you find one, please send it to me!), this study speaks on dehumanization as a precursor to adult sexual violence.

This study, conducted on convicted child molesters in prison, showed that child molesters tend to fantasize about children while in a negative mood, further contributing to the theory that child victims are dehumanized prior to abuse.

This very small sample study found that in a mixed sample of internet only/contact crime/mixed offenders, offenders who had contact with children had lower rates of fantasizing about children.

In short, half the time a child predator is someone who wants to offend against a child regardless of attraction to the fact they are a child.

Resources To Recognize Grooming/Abuse Victims/Predators

I would absolutely be remiss to not share my collection of resources to help detect signs of abuse/grooming as well as warning signs of a predator who may be targeting elders/women/teens/children:

Darkness 2 Light is a fantastic resource overall, this page details stages and signs of grooming.

RAINN personally helped me through my PTSD journey, and this article detailing the signs of sexual trauma in teenagers is thorough and non-judgemental

Signs of abuse as well as warning signs of predation that does not use gendered language nor play into the Stranger Danger myth.

Education, not Censorship

I think a lot of the energy against taboo content among young people still has a lot to do with the desire to end rape culture. The tools that we Millennial Tumblrinas gave you Gen Z kids were snatches of leftist theory, deplatforming, and voting with your dollar, so it’s reasonable to think that removing taboo content like pedophilia, incest, rape fights rape culture.

It doesn’t.

Rape culture is fought by education. Comprehensive sex education, education about consent. Talking about what consent looks like, what sex can look like, what rape can look like.

There should be more taboo content to talk about these things, to show all the shades it can look like. From a violent noncon to fics that aren’t even tagged as dubcon yet still are in shades that are hard to suss out, we should talk about it.

A Non-Empirical Example Of Good Media Analysis and Education to Combat Rape Culture

Let’s use the example of Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen’s relationship in House of the Dragon. Canonically, in both the book and the show, they have a romantic relationship that appears for the most part to be positive (the show being more contentious but I dedicated an aside to Sarah Hess and our beef at the bottom of my Carrd, but feel free to ask how I feel about writing producers with any variation of the name ‘Sarah’) despite an age gap, a sexual relationship that began while Rhaenyra was a minor, and incest - the problematic hat trick if you will.

I have seen anti-Daemyra shippers condemn Daemyra shippers for “Condoning grooming, age gaps, pedophilia, and incest.” Which is not just a broad, inaccurate, and harmful statement, it’s not at all constructive or educational analysis.

It would actually be beneficial to say “Daemon is grooming Rhaenyra as a teenager with gifts, devoted attention that takes advantage of her isolation and vulnerability, frequent nonsexual touches, the extreme desensitization to sexuality in the brothel visit,” etc etc. And even so, it is not useful to say that people cannot still ship the relationship and acknowledge those aspects. They might want to further explore the issues of consent in their dynamic in fiction, they may want to strip away some of them with narrative reimagining. Some might want to ignore the taboos completely and indulge in the fantasy entirely, and some might find the actors hot as hell - AKA, anyone who watches the show.

It’s honestly a little similar to me in how Jerry Falwell would tell his followers not to watch or read or take in any media that dealt with homosexuality unless it was condemning it - even Will & Grace was on Jerry’s shitlist. And so, Jerry’s followers missed out on a lot of media that could have educated them about queerness, could have humanized queer people for them - and that did not make queers go away. Just like ignoring or shutting out media about incest, rape, and other forms of sexual violence doesn’t make those things go away - it just tends to make you less informed, and little less capable of empathy towards people affected by those subjects.

So let’s stop shaming those that ship a complicated dynamic - you get less fanworks exploring those taboos, and less of a discussion overall. You shut down the morality lab of fiction, and to be honest, it’s wet sock behavior.

Some FanFiction Specific Studies

How dubcon fanfiction can flesh out the intricacies and messiness of realistic consent

A review of darkfic written about Harry Potter in 2005 (which, I will personally attest has never been outdone in how profoundly taboo those works were)

Interviews with 11 Self Insert writers who wrote on themes of rape, abuse, control, yandere, etc, and how that was beneficial to some who had experienced sexual violence themselves

Conclusion:

H…holy shit, you actually read all of that?? Congrats dude! That is a lot of time and brain power to dedicate to any one thing!

By the way, I am not really gifted at writing articles or any of that junk, and I tried to make my hyperlexic ass a little more accessible instead of bringing out all the $5 words. I am literally just an autistic who took a couple technical writing classes over a decade ago and really wanted to sort out my thoughts and try to have a platform for discussion. Also, I am really fucking bad at math. I failed two different college level statistics classes twice each. Gun to my head, I could not tell you what a standard deviation is, which is why I worked entirely with the percentages.

And I do want to have a discussion! I would in fact like to not report anyone for sending me gore or death threats or any of that stuff! I don’t think everyone will agree with me, in fact I’m certain that you could find studies that contradict some of mine, and I’d love to discuss them!

I’m sure it will still be tempting to throw around accusations of pedophilia because sometimes, confronting your previously held beliefs is incredibly uncomfortable. If you could not do that, that would be great? I don’t like being compared to someone who profoundly abused me just because I have a different opinion on how to combat rape culture and empower survivors. If you can do that, I’ll do my absolute best to be cheerful and welcoming and respectful as well. 😁

PS - I’m also not really going to be phased if you call me weird or cringe - I am. Always have been. Cringe, weirdness, and autism have made me do and capable of doing some fantastically neat and impressive stuff. But if you try to say something like “proshippers are too yucky and weird to be in fandom” - I’m going to have to refer you to your similarity to Kate Sanders of Lizzy McGuire fame, you “prEpz >:(“ - [My Immortal, legendary author unknown]

[deandoesthingstome]

Forest Fantasy

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Summary: There's a new hotel in town. It can't possibly be what it's advertised as, can it?

Word Count: 6.5K

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, cunnilingus, p in v (missionary and doggy style), monster fucking (right?).

A/N: I was considering waiting until Oct, but it's a fucking Super Moon tonight so let's gooooo.....!!!!!

When The Fantasy Hotel opened up in town, you scoffed at first. "What’s with this name? What kind of depravity is this? Why can't folks just fuck in their own homes?" you thought to yourself. “At least they have someone to fuck. Why must they flaunt their relationships in my face this way?”

But then you heard the whispers. The suggestions. The innuendos. A few of your online friends, who know you'd been through a dry spell for some time now, had been asking if you'd given any thought to trying it out and you were...confused. They wouldn't say outright what they'd heard about the place, but curiosity got the better of you. 

You opened the incognito browser and typed the hotel name and were...shocked. Shocked at the images and the rave reviews. This hotel wasn't strictly for couples. As a matter of fact, it was designed for singles. And you shut your laptop quickly, convinced this wasn't for you and worried what your anonymous, online friends must think of you. You broached the subject delicately, so as not to offend in case maybe they didn't really know what they were asking about.

MNstrluvr: Come on. You've read the fics. You've liked and commented. Are you really saying you weren't into it? The idea of it?

sendmeanangel: I was sucked in by the phenomenal writing. You know me. I read anything if it's told well, descriptive, immersive, get you out of your head.

darkgothnightengale: This is THAT. But IRL. You're fucking lucky they picked your town to open the first one. You HAVE to try it and tell us how it is!!!

sendmeanangel: Have you seen the prices?

darkgothnightengale: We chipped in.

sendmeanangel:...

MNstrluvr: Come on! We're dying to know first hand from someone we actually know. Please. For science!

It took a few more gentle prods and pokes, with promises of no jokes unless you gave specific permission. And under NO CIRCUMSTANCES were your friends allowed to post anything that even vaguely alluded to the fact that you were trying the place out. Private DMs and Super Private Chat Room discussions only.

Your visit was booked. You opted for a brief stay only. Two hours. You couldn't bring yourself to book a longer stay and the theme you selected was one that allowed for less than full evenings. It was also the only slot available on the day you were able to ask off work. 

You showered and primped, pampering yourself with your favorite body wash and lotion, knowing how good it made you feel to be fresh and clean and smelling delicious. You checked your clothes and your makeup in the full length mirror by your apartment door, opting not to change for the fiftieth time since stepping out of the shower. A few final items stuffed into your travel satchel and the large floppy hat on your head you'd bought specifically to hide your face as you made your way into the hotel and you were off for your adventure, trepidation buzzing around your insides and threatening to derail your purpose.

Your friends had paid and you figured you were already past a normal hotel refund window, so paying them back would mean picking up a few extra shifts on top of your already hectic university schedule. Besides, you didn't want to disappoint them. They were so curious to know if the stories that were starting to pop-up on Tumblr did any justice to the experience. You really couldn’t imagine this was anything more than some extremely well put together costumes and perhaps use of silicon implements, which had you really wondering about sanitation, but whatever.

The cab pulled up at the hotel entrance and a petite woman with a pixie cut stepped forward to open the door and help you out. She gave a warm smile with no hint of derision or teasing about the hat as she welcomed you sincerely and led you through the front doors, depositing you at the registration desk.

"Enjoy your stay!" she beamed at you, with a conspiratorial wink before heading back out to, you assumed, await the next guest.

You called out a thanks after her, then turned to the front desk attendant, who welcomed you by name.

"You have the only check in slot at this time," he answered your unspoken question with a kind smile. "We stagger arrival on purpose to ensure privacy for our guests. Especially first time visits. We have you booked in the Deep Forest Suite for the next two hours, and it looks like you requested the basket add on. That will be waiting for you in the room. Since it is your first time, we just need you to sign a few waivers and I'll run through the hotel safety rules for you. A copy has also been sent to your email, if you want to check them during your stay. But also, rest assured, your host is well versed and knows exactly how to keep you safe. You are in good hands here, I promise."

Every word spoken carefully and with respect, every inflection designed to put your worries at ease. If you had butterflies going in, you'd never know it now. You had taken notice of the lush and inviting lobby, dark wood furniture covered in rich velvet, chandeliers and wall sconces casting a warm glow around you. There was nothing menacing or untoward, nothing like you had expected, even after seeing the interior photos online. You'd experienced marketing ploys before. This wasn't glue disguised as milk or fries on toothpicks to stand up straight in the box or a long angle shot of the tiniest pool ever. Everything so far was exactly as depicted and you were impressed.

Then you remembered the photo of your host and had to swallow hard. You had assumed it was a doctored image, maybe some unique lighting to draw attention. But if the decor was real, then maybe he was too. The rules were oddly specific for an experience with a guy in a costume.

Maybe everything you had assumed about the nature of this hotel was wrong. 

"Everything okay?" the clerk asked with a furrowed brow. "Is there something worrisome about the rules?"

"Oh. No. No everything is fine. I'm just..." you trailed off. Nervous wasn't the right word. Nor were you embarrassed, as you thought you would be. The door attendant, the desk clerk...neither had made you feel anything but welcome and safe and not self-conscious at all.

"It's perfectly reasonable to feel a little apprehension your first time. If it makes you feel better, you should know: you actually can opt out at any time. We do have to retain a portion of the room fee, but a partial refund is available. Should you change your mind."

"That's nice to know, thank you. I think I'll be okay."

"Then let's get you to your room,” he clapped his hands together with a mirth. “427. Elevator is down the hall and there are directional signs, but I'm happy to escort you if you'd like."

"I think I'll manage, but thank you."

As he placed the key in your possession and sent you on your way, the reality sunk in a little deeper. Weighed down by the heavy iron key in your hand as you rode the elevator to the fourth floor and stepped down the hall to your room, you could no longer deny what was about to occur.

You were headed into the wolf's den.

The door unlocked with a satisfying click as you turned the iron key. You were transported to a lush forest setting when you stepped into the room. Or as close as you could get indoors, anyway. A carpet of deep, soft green lay on the floor beneath your feet, and you immediately slipped out of your shoes to feel the cool material on your skin. It was impossibly silky, smooth, and comforting.

Large potted fir and pine plants lined the walls and stood in corners. At least a few held miniature deciduous trees and some with limbs stretching across the ceiling. You finally let your eyes fall on the chunky, four-poster bed, the legs, head- and foot-boards crafted of smooth finished logs you might find in a high-end cabin or ski chalet and covered in a thick feather mattress wrapped in luxurious blankets and piled high with pillows.

A picnic basket sat prim and proper on the coffee table nestled between two plump, overstuffed chairs and you had just reached out to peek beneath the deep red cloth when the door closed softly behind you and a throat cleared.

"I hope I haven't startled you."

You turned and gasped as you took in the sight of one of the largest, and, for lack of a better description because your brain was starting to fail you, manliest men you'd ever set eyes on. His photograph might have been deceptive, but only because it didn't do him justice. He wore a thick, blue cable knit sweater and dark gray cargo pants that seemed to mold around his thighs. He was barefoot, which surprised you a little, but then who were you to judge at the moment?

You caught his smirk as you lifted your gaze to appreciate the rugged beard and full head of chocolate curls that framed his face, offsetting mesmerizing blue eyes.

"I'm Walter," he offered you his hand as he spoke your name with a gentle growl. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You're not..." you stopped yourself, suddenly embarrassed at how eager you'd found yourself. "Forgive me. That may have been a rude way to start."

"It's okay," he chuckled. "This isn't the form you signed up for, but I've found it more enjoyable to at least meet in this state. If I bounded in here all claws and snarls, we wouldn't have a chance to speak first. And I prefer to have at least a quick chat, if that's okay with you."

"It's fine," you whispered, your throat dry though your mouth was watering.

Walter stepped past you and reached a large mitt into the basket to pull out a bottle of water.

"Would you like to talk with me a bit?" he asked, offering you the bottle. Your eyes lingered on the basket, though, curious what else might be in there. The amenity said “Fantasy Basket”, so it could have just been a riff on the hotel name, but still, you had assumed…

“Did you not get a chance to peek before I arrived?” he asked as you took a sip of water.

“No. Do you know what’s in there?”

“I do,” another chuckle, deeper and darker than before. “Do you want to know now, or later?”

“We don’t have a lot of time, do we?” you asked, suddenly aware and mentally kicking yourself for thinking you didn’t need more than a few hours to get the lay of the land. Literally, you snorted at your internal joke.

“Something funny?”

“Lay of the land,” you replied with a grin and as he laughed with you, you caught sight of his canines. They seemed a little longer than when you saw them in his first grin. At the moan that slipped from your throat, he darkened again.

“That it will be.”

You gasped and squeezed your thighs, clenching at the reverberation in his voice. Something had changed from even just the moment before when he’d entered the room. Aside from the physical appearance, you sensed a shift in the air, something wavering in the ether around you. A heat crept from your core to your cheeks, through your spine and settled into your chest. You were breathless.

“How do we…um, how does this start?”

“We’ve already started, haven’t we?” he replied, a little mysteriously. “Sit with me?”

What made you drop to the floor beneath you instead of onto the comfortable looking seat, you couldn’t say, but here you were resting back on your heels as you took another drink of water from the glass bottle in your hand.

“I was going to suggest the chairs, but if you prefer the ground, I’m happy to say I do too.”

Walter stepped forward and lowered himself to the ground beside you, one knee splayed wide and almost touching yours, the other knee bent with an elbow draped over it as he leaned toward you. You could swear you caught him sniffing the air.

“I don’t know what to say,” you spoke with caution, suddenly overwhelmed. The day was just becoming a series of flip-flops in your mind as you imagined yourself, sometimes bold and determined to experience what you could, then timid and nervous as the reality overcame you. Once at ease and open, now shy and reserved.

“That’s okay,” Walter replied. “The better for me to begin.”

Why did that sound like such a familiar phrase? You took another drink and nodded for him to continue.

“I’d like to continue our time together by undressing you, one way or another. You have a choice, which you can leave to me if you’d like. I can do it now, in this form,” he paused, cocked his head to one side, then the other as he cracked his neck. “Or I can shift, in your presence or not, and do it that way.”

What did he mean by “shift”? Surely, he must mean change. As in undress and don a mask. But then you remembered his teeth, somehow longer. And you thought about the subtle way the atmosphere seemed to shimmer and transport you and you wondered if he really did mean “shift.’

“That sounds like two choices,” you whispered and caught his grin, canines even longer than before.

“Perceptive. I like it. Need a few moments?”

“What happens after I’m…I mean, I know what happens, I guess… but just, like, how…” you trailed off, not really sure what you were asking.

“We’re playing a game here, really. That’s all. It can be as simple or intricate as you’d like, though, you’re right. Our time is ticking away.”

“You do it.” You rushed, barely letting him finish his response. 

“Here or…?”

“I’ll close my eyes.” The thought of watching his shift, though intriguing, also made you wonder if it would make you more nervous than you already suddenly found yourself again. Maybe it was better to just jump in and get started, as much as you were also enjoying speaking with Walter in his human form. 

“Why don’t you take the basket into the bathroom? Pick out whatever intrigues you for use and come out when you’re ready. I’ll shift before you return. Sound okay?”

You nodded and he helped you to stand, then handed you the basket and gently urged you toward the bathroom door. Before he let go of your arm, he stepped in close, slipping his hand over yours and pressing it to his chest as he tugged you toward him. 

“Do you mind if I give you one kiss this way before we meet next? You can say no, but it’s nice, I think, a good way to gauge your interest.”

Did he somehow think you weren’t interested? How had you hidden the drool from him? You’d been too quiet, clearly. Mesmerized by everything that had happened already in such a short time and you’d lost your voice, unable to truly communicate your desire. You were ruining everything, obviously.

“I’d like to kiss you very much,” you admitted, peering up into his eyes, which you now noticed were not the 100% blue you’d originally thought. Was this man really about to change shape? Did it matter? It didn’t matter in the least as far as how well he could kiss you, because while you were contemplating the genetics of the man in front of you, he was leaning down to capture your lips in what started as a chaste, closed mouth peck that grew steadily more intense as you felt his free arm slip up your back to settle a hand against the nape of your neck while yours slipped around his waist and urged him closer, as if you were guided by some unknown force. You felt his tongue lick along your bottom lip and you opened your mouth to him as if you’d known him your whole life.

With your hand still pressed against his sternum, you could feel his heart beat faster as each second passed and the kiss grew more heated. When he pulled away you actually whined.

“I’m glad to see you are interested,” he teased with a grin before he spun you toward the door again and pressed you inside. “Now hop on in and don’t take too long. I want to treat you for as long as I can.”

The bathroom was just as sumptuous as the main room. A dark tiled shower took up one entire wall of the room and you couldn’t tell if the color was black or just the deepest forest green you’d ever seen. Instead of a curtain or sliding door, a glass panel separated the shower from the rest of the room with an opening opposite the brass water valves to step in. What you imagined must be a rain shower head jutted out from the ceiling. You didn’t want to waste any more of your precious time, but wondered if there’d be any left to enjoy this shower when all was said and done. The rest of the bathroom fixtures and amenities would have to wait for inspection, since you needed to pay attention to your basket. You set it on the veined marble counter and finally lifted the cloth completely off. 

Only the cloth wasn’t exactly a cloth. It was a cape, tucked neatly on top of a few more bottles of water, a small loaf of bread, some cut cheeses and fruit in a covered bowl. And that was it for the tame picnic items.

You pulled a short, white peasant dress trimmed in lace and a red apron with black satin ribbon criss-crossing the front out of the basket, along with what appeared to be a pair of black fishnet stockings and thought of Walter’s comments. Were you expected to change or only if you wanted this part of the experience? Finally, you noticed a few heavy leather straps and as you pulled them from the basket you realized they must be meant as restraints, but for whom? You or him? You also noticed a distinct lack of silicon implements.

You heard a rustle of some sort outside the bathroom door, reminding you that Walter was waiting and time was fleeting and you really needed to make a decision about how you wanted to enter the room again. Walter had suggested you take the basket with you. And he was going to be … different when you saw him again, wasn’t he? And you had asked him to undress you. Maybe he anticipated that undressing would be … vigorous. What if this costume was meant for that? You had brought a change of clothes but didn’t think you’d be leaving here with one less outfit in your already sparse wardrobe.

Your mind made up, you stripped quickly and donned the outfit, amazed at how simple the apron was to slip over your head, then pull the satin ties tight with your own hand. You always imagined an intricate article of intimate clothing like this would take so much more effort. Maybe it would be something you’d feel comfortable and confident enough to do outside this hotel someday.

For now, you were drawn back into the moment with a thud on the door and a low growl that sounded like “Come out.”

You finished dressing, wrapping the cape around your neck and drawing up the hood. You still weren’t wearing shoes, so you could feel the ground through the wide gaps of the fishnets as you stepped back into the room, picnic basket on your arm. It felt different. More uneven. Crunchy leaves crackled beneath as you stepped onto what now felt like real grass, fading to dirt, fading to ground littered with pine needles and dry leaves. Ferns peaked out from the tree trunks. And a supermoon shone overhead.

This was not your room. It was on the other side of the bathroom door, to be fair, but this was not the room you’d stepped into 20 minutes ago. And yet, how could it be anything but? A twig snapped to your left and drew your attention as you realized you didn’t see Walter. You’d thought he’d be right outside the door, waiting for you, maybe in a chair, maybe on the bed. But you didn’t see him, only his clothes folded neatly on the table where your picnic basket had been. Suddenly, you felt a rush of air next to you.

“What are you doing here, little one?”

You had a hard time deciding what to focus on as the words were spoken. The actual choice of the words themselves, which harkened back to that story that drifted through the tendrils of your mind, whispering “You know me?” Or the rough, low way those words tumbled from him, hungry and full of want. Was this the game?

“Your voice sounds so strange, Walter. Is everything okay?” you asked, plucking the words from the cobwebs in your head.

“I think I just swallowed some water wrong.”

You took a deep breath and turned, ready to catch him, ready to see. He was glorious and you were awestruck. It took a few moments of taking in the sight of his body, arms slightly elongated, up on the balls of his feet, hair that looked like chocolate silk covering his body but not in a way that you couldn’t see the tone and definition of his skin underneath, nose and mouth pulled forward, ears up. Ears up.

“Walter, what big ears you have,” you cooed, reaching up to touch them, though waiting for the assent in his eyes. When you could see he would allow it, you brushed your fingers along the back side, then scratched a little in the crease where they met his head and he closed his eyes for a moment. His eyes.

“Walter, what big eyes you have,” your voice a bit lower, sultry, as if the confidence you’d lost earlier had found its way back to you. He opened them and you’d have sworn sparks flew as his deep blue eyes pierced yours before you saw him drag his gaze over your face, down your neck, back and forth between your breasts, unfortunately still covered. He must have felt the same because he didn’t linger on the clothes, but when he reached your thighs, clad in the black hose he snarled, baring his sharp teeth. Sharp teeth.

“Walter,” you teased. “What big teeth you have.”

“The better to eat you with, my dear,” he growled and pounced, swatting the picnic basket to the ground before lifting you by the waist and hoisting you over his shoulder. He only needed a few steps before he could toss you back onto the plump bed. Your cape hood dropped off your head and your dress skirt hiked up a little, but not like it mattered. 

Walter was between your legs, nudging your thighs wide with his own as he folded himself over you, arms caging your head. With a snarl, he began to nuzzle down your neck, sniffing along the way.

“You smell good,” he grunted as he drew a paw over your chest. “Smelled you from the moment I walked in the room, but I wanted to be closer. Like this.”

You peered down towards his hand and noticed the sharp claw of what should be an index finger drawn back and ready to slice through the black satin down your breast. The apron draped to your sides as easily as you’d put it on, practically one handed, and it was gone now. You didn’t really care if the white dress met the same fate as the apron, but the cape was quality. Surely there was no need to ruin it. You reached to untie the bow at your neck just as Walter sliced easily through the front of the dress. The rip as he reared back and grabbed a side of split fabric in both hands to finish the job was satisfying. 

Since you’d decided to just leave off the bra and panties for the sake of time, you were now left like an unwrapped package on the bed, intricately woven stretchy black thread the only thing sitting between you and Walter. Your chest was heaving and so was his. And since he was now up on his knees instead of bent over you, you had a chance to glance away from his face toward his hips and you had to bite your lip. 

He was huge. Like, possibly not gonna fit huge. He must have seen the hesitation on your face.

“Don’t worry,” came the sound as he dropped back off the bed, knelt on the floor, hooked his arms under your thighs, and tugged you to the edge of the bed. You felt his nuzzle against the skin of your belly, the warm, wet air of his exhale trailing down your side, into the crook of your thigh, and finally settling right on top of your cunt. He was so deft as he slipped a finger into your slit, then cut the thread between your legs as he pulled the finger free, widening the hole to give him greater access.

The noises you made could absolutely be interpreted as nothing other than consent, but you wanted to make sure he didn’t stop, as the contract said he could if he had any doubt about your permission. There could be no doubt.

“Please, don’t stop. Put your mouth on me. Make me cum.”

There was the slightest of huffs, as if he was smiling the briefest of victory smiles, before his assail began. It was measured, it was slow, it was a thorough gathering of information. It was infuriating. As you were about to open your impatient mouth and remind him that the clock was ticking the minutes away, like the insufferable bitch she was, he shifted tactics.

Every little nuance he’d taken note of, every amount of pressure and length of lick that produced some desired effect was now fortified. This was the only thing he did. And at a brisker rate, as if he’d calculated the pleasure you’d derived at the low speed and determined the exponential pleasure you’d get from the real speed. 

They had not put mathematical genius in his bio, but here you were getting eaten alive better than anyone had ever done it before. And you dared say, maybe after. This could get expensive.

When you couldn’t take it anymore, when you were afraid the remaining time had to be expired because you kept awakening from mind bending bliss to find him still lapping and sucking at your pussy as if he just got started and how long had it been, my gods, you grabbed hold of the curly hair around his head and tugged as you begged.

“Stop. Stop,” you were breathless. “Walter, please stop. It’s so good. It’s too good. I don’t want you to stop but we have to stop. My time must be up, I have to go.”

His laugh wasn’t cruel, but it was sinister “We have time. Don’t worry. I made sure.”

You didn’t dare look at the clock. Your gaze was locked into his anyway, whites of his eyes replaced by a deep, lustful red. He held your stare while dragging his tongue and snout along your heated skin.

He slipped an arm under your waist, tugging your torso in one direction as he stepped a hind leg up to nudge your hips in the other. He settled in between your legs once he had you parallel to the edge of the bed. You threw your arms over your head as he caressed your outer thigh, coaxing it around his waist while bending to savor the scent you'd released for him. When he was satisfied, he moved again to climb over your body.

You were aching for him, arching into the heat radiating from the closeness of his form. As you reached for his neck to pull him even closer, you realized why he'd kissed you before the turn. It would be awkward now to put your mouth on his. The shape didn't lend itself to an easy slotting of lips against one another, though you yearned for the recent memory.

As if he could sense your desire, he leaned in and nuzzled against your neck, behind your ear, then along your throat. He pushed your chin up with his muzzle to bare your pulse to him and then he nipped.

You whimpered at the sensation and even as he licked to soothe it, he did it again, a little harder, just shy of breaking skin.

"Please," you begged, eager to feel the power, though you knew it was strictly forbidden and you trusted he did as well.

His growl was full of bravado, as if he was proud to have you begging him to break the rules.

"You wanna get me in trouble?" Walter grumbled in your ear as he ran his paws up and down your body, dragging his claws carefully over your skin. He snarled when they snagged on the stockings and looked to you for approval before he tore them away from your legs completely.

"If you can't bite me, then at least mate me," you pleaded, knowing full well he couldn't do that either but you were too far gone to care. It would at least get him thinking about sinking his cock in you one way or another.

He reached for the drawer of the heavy wooden night stand and produced a few foil packets, dropping all but one on the bedside table and handing you the last, prompting an eyebrow raised in question from you. His response was measured, as if he struggled to control something deep inside.

"You have another choice to make," he began with a low rumble as he sought understanding in your eyes. "I can't mate you directly and I'm sure you know that. I have access to...toys, equipment that would allow you to feel that sensation, but it won't be me. If instead, you're willing to use protection with me, I will gladly fill you up."

If he wouldn't go bare, so be it. He wiggled his claws as you attempted to hand him the packet, sure you'd make a debacle of trying to sheath the monster between his legs.

"Just to be safe, you'd better do it. These are pretty sharp. That ok?" he grunted at you in question.

You nodded and scooted out from under him, up the bed so you had a little leverage. He kept a knee on the mattress as he stood tall from his other hind leg still on the floor and waited for you to tear the package and roll the condom down his cock.

"Is there anything special I need to do to make it fit?" you asked, vaguely aware of how ridiculous the question sounded but eager nonetheless to get past this part and onto the one where Walter would be deep inside you, filling every inch, stroking every wall. You'd already seen the size, but forgotten your initial trepidation thanks to the glorious head he'd given you.

Surely, no standard drugstore rubber would cover it. His huff was kind, and you could swear you saw the twinkle of a smile in his eyes as he answered.

"We bring them in special. They're designed for a ... more substantial, and sometimes even exotic, need. But if you know how to use one, you know how to use them all. Still alright?"

You nodded with a smile, and set to work, letting the heft and feel of his member draw you back into your haze of lust and desire now that logistics were out of the way. You worked the rubber over his girth and found yourself imagining what it would be like to have him split you in two. You couldn't wait and he could tell.

"So eager," he grumbled as he grasped your shoulders and eased you onto your back.

You thought about trying to tame your excitement, but to what end? For a brief moment the thought that you surely didn't have much more time left flitted through your mind and then you let the excitement and anticipation take over.

"Please take me now," you begged and captured the side of your lower lip with your teeth as you once again pictured the incoming pleasure.

"If anything feels uncomfortable, you can tell me to stop," he murmured in your ear as he lowered himself over you. "Say 'woodsman' and I stop. Understood?"

He pulled back to find your reply and when he had his confirmation he didn't hold back any further. As if no time had passed between when he had coaxed so much moisture from your core and now, you were still dripping for him when he grabbed ahold of his thick member and placed the tip at your entrance.

Any other man would have slid in easily, but Walter wasn't any other man and he knew it. Once the tip breached your aching pussy, he carefully nudged a knuckle alongside, pressing in and loosening the way. You spread your legs wider for him and willed your walls to relax, though they wouldn't.

Remembering what he said during the exchange about the condom, you pulled a hand off his shoulder, down his furry chest, and in between your bodies, reaching for the spot where you were connected. The growl he let out when he realized what you were doing was invigorating and spurred you on.

You watched him bend his head down so he could take in the sight of you stroking him a few times before you began to massage the folds at your entrance. You let your fingers tease your clit and when you couldn't stand it any longer, a time which you were sure had already passed, you split your index and middle finger and gently coaxed your opening wider.

As he felt the ease, Walter sank ever deeper until he was bottomed out and pressed as far in as he could. You saw stars, immediately, and loosened even more, coating him with warmth and juices that helped his movements.

In another time, with another man, that may have been it. Most men, if they even took the time to draw an orgasm from you through the missionary position, would collapse in almost relief as soon as you came, spending their load and ending the night then and there.

But you'd already established Walter was no mere man. He took your sigh as his cue to help you feel that way again and again. And when he couldn't tear another orgasm from you in this position, no matter how hard he pumped or how high he got your legs over his head, he pulled out and flipped you to all fours and slammed back in from behind, eager to wrench at least one last shout of pleasure from your lips before he spilled his seed in the condom and sent you to your belly with a slap on your ass as he withdrew from you entirely.

"Am I charged extra for that?" you mustered the energy to ask once he'd returned from the bathroom. You peeled one exhausted eye open to see he was back to his human form, though still completely unclothed and you wondered if anyone was lucky enough to enjoy that experience as well.

"Sorry?" he asked, a quizzical look on his face.

"Does this place charge by the volume? Was there a limit to the number of orgasms allowed? I imagine it has to be like the extra mini-bar charges they tack onto your bill when you check out of any other hotel, right?"

His laugh was deep and infectious. It reverberated through the room and your chest as he climbed into the bed beside you with the bowl of cheese and fruit in one hand and the bread in the other.

"We don't have a limit. You can have as many as you want. Care for a snack? Get your energy back?” Walter took the time to feed you small bites while your boneless body slowly recovered.

"We have to be so far over my time limit. Am I about to turn into a pumpkin now?" you asked after swallowing a final bite of bread.

Walter laughed again and it warmed your heart. Maybe he was just a really good actor, but nothing so far had rang false, so why would he try to fake this? He thought you were funny.

"No, nothing so drastic. But if you do want to rinse off before checkout, you should get a move on. I could carry you if you're still not up to moving just yet?"

You nodded, and as if you weighed nothing, Walter lifted you from the bed and deposited you in the shower cabin, away from the shower head while he fiddled with the water faucet. Once the steam began to rise, he pulled you in with him and helped you lather up and rinse off, careful to keep your hair away from the spray as best he could. Then he dried you off with a fluffy towel and helped you dress in your extra set of clothes, before tucking the cape in your bag with your original outfit.

"It's part of the basket fee," he answered your unasked question with a ridiculous wink. "If you book it again, they'll give you a discount, but you'll have to remember to bring it with you."

As you stepped out of the bathroom, the room again appeared as it did when you first entered what felt like hours ago. Surely more than two. Walter could sense your confusion.

“The hotel has some special features we don’t actually advertise,” he offered, as he pulled on his pants. “We use them at our discretion, but it means you get an experience unlike others. This room, for example, truly can transform into a deep forest. And I like to stretch the time here, especially for newcomers. When you walk out into that hall, it’ll be two hours since your arrival. We’ve been here for longer though. But do me a favor, wouldja? Keep that to yourself?” 

You nodded and smiled, appreciative of his special treatment, then took one last look around the room to make sure you hadn't forgotten anything. Walter walked you to the door and gave you a final kiss goodbye.

“I do hope everything was to your satisfaction. Hopefully, you’ll come back sometime,” he grinned at you as you stumbled backwards down the hall, not wanting to turn away from his gorgeous face. You were absolutely going to figure out a way to pick up some extra shift and make your way back to this hotel again if it killed you.

Bonus Edit: Absolutely GORGEOUS headers made for me by my wonderful friend in fic @geralts-yenn:

Everything HC Taglist: (as always, let me know if you want on or off)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007

Special tag: @kittenofdoomage (cause sometimes you love my stuff and this one's a monster fucker lol!)

Werewolf!walter only (if you asked on the teaser):

@ellethespaceunicorn (hope this is okay! Tag me in whichever HC character werewolf you end up with!) @juliaorpll78 @martha-oi @cardierreh15 if you asked and aren't here, Tumblr won’t let me tag you. Sorry!

[messiahzzz]

the IGN article has already been addressed by several users, but imo the points of critique raised by others were still often misinterpreted, or ignored entirely.

— so i’d like to talk about it.

beforehand, it is important to mention that it remains everyone’s respective responsibility to curate their own online experience. you shouldn’t purposefully expose yourself to topics that cause you distress or trigger you. however, general discussion should always be valid and welcomed. you have every right to voice your opinion on the matter and to be upset about this. please don’t feel guilty about venting and expressing your emotional response.

we also need to differentiate this specific interview from the fandom’s overall treatment and interpretation of gale. several of the posts i’ve seen on the subject tend to derail into the latter, without addressing the valid points many have raised or glossing over them entirely. this isn’t about the usual “haha gale eats shoes” joke or whatever new meme fandom comes up with. this is solely about the developer’s treatment of gale, the character, and about a specific, internal bias that has been prevalent throughout the entirety of the game, as well as their social media. this particular interview merely adding to the amalgamation of points mentioned.

yes, it is certainly unrealistic to expect larian to address every single companion in detail and to touch on every nuance possible, in an interview that broadly focuses on the game’s narrative and gameplay. there are, however, specific character sections. each companion received a headline that was reflective of their overall character archetype or provided quick insight into their development.

Karlach: 'The Labrador of the Party'

Lae'zel: 'She's So Young'

Halsin: 'A Creative Risk'

Shadowheart: 'The Jason Bourne'

Wyll: 'We Lost a Little Bit of Narrative Room'

Astarion: 'Much of What He Does Is Out of Fear'

Minthara: 'It's Not a Redemption Arc...But She's Got a Lot of Love'

and last but not least:

Gale: 'The Guy Who Starts Off Annoying Everyone'

what followed was a brief discussion about their respective storylines, each being addressed with a certain level of respect, empathy, and consideration. except for gale. all that was mentioned in regard to his character was the narrative impact of gale’s suicide. talking about the overall logistics of this ending, the visuals of the cutscene, and how, to them, his sacrifice felt like the right ending and how in many ways, it is.

Chrystal Ding, Lead Writer: On a very human level, you have the guy who starts off annoying everyone, he's constantly asking you to give him your most treasured possessions to eat, otherwise he's in trouble, and at the end, he gives himself for the world. Sven Vincke, Founder: And he had the choice already once before where he wasn't ready for it. So it's a very powerful ending, and it comes in different permutations.

gale is the character who is initially annoying companions and players alike. he is verbose, enthusiastic and has a tendency to break out in long-winded rants. he repeatedly asks for your assistance, to help him manage his condition. to spare himself and his surroundings from an untimely, explosive death, he must consume items that you’ve carefully collected. gale is, essentially, a liability. a ticking time bomb. he already had the option to have his life be a meaningful sacrifice, but he wasn’t ready to die yet. now, that the party has reached the end, he has another chance to give himself up for the world.

short after, gale’s section of the interview quickly diverts into a more general discussion about the difficulties of playing as a wizard and other classes.

larian claiming that there is a universal “right ending” in a game with many branching paths and choices very much contradicts the definition of a role-playing game. where it is solely in the player’s hands to decide what direction to take and what outcome they deem to be the right one. moreover, it is important to remember that the interviewees weren’t just any developers, but consisted of two lead writers and larian’s founder himself. some of them industry veterans who are, to an extent, pr-trained. we all know that fandom often sees statements from developers synonymous with word of god. as such, the implications and impact are truly unfortunate.

if larian was referring the SA survivor and stated that “the right ending” for him was to return him to enslavement or to hand him over to the gur. that for all the death and misery he (involuntarily) assisted, his sacrifice would at least grand them a slither of justice.

astarion caused death, perpetuated racism, and now that you have handed him over to the gur hunter, he is offered a chance to give himself back to the world.

it is then deemed the right choice for him because it is the most narratively satisfying/impactful/powerful outcome in the context of the overall story. the majority of us would agree that such would be a rather tactless statement, no? not specifically for mentioning it in relation to astarion as a character or his influence on the narrative — he is fictional, after all, but because of the real-life implications and the very real stigma the affected face. we can't deny that it would be hurtful to irl victims. maybe we would even fault the writing altogether for such biases. after all, why should astarion be the only character whose redemption and healing are considered to be significantly less important in the grand scheme of things?

fiction functions as an abstraction and simulation of our social experience. we are supposed to get invested, to explore the meaning, examine the parallels, or maybe just to enjoy stories for the sole purpose of indulging in the occasional escapism. perhaps a way to temporarily forget about one’s limitations and the prejudices we face. in many ways, chronic pain/impairment, suicidal ideation, and autistic traits appear to be disorders & symptoms that are perhaps less relatable to some, and that they are maybe not as sympathetic to.

it truly would’ve been nice to see larian approach this interview with more professionalism. opting for a simple, diplomatic “actually, there is no right ending. the sheer variation in choices makes such a distinction impossible” would’ve more than sufficed.

this isn’t asking for larian to touch on every nuance possible, in an interview that largely resembled the flow of a regular conversation. it’s about asking for the same level of consideration and care that was granted to the rest of the companions. it’s about addressing gale’s particular brand of trauma with the same level of basic human decency. maybe we even could’ve received some new bits and pieces of insight on gale’s development, rather than the regurgitation of every shallow reddit/tiktok take we’ve seen up to this point. alas..

[randomfoggytiger]

React: A Late-Canon Reviler Gives the Revival a Try (Plus One, Forehead Sweat, Ghouli, Kitten, Rm9sbG93ZXJz, Familiar, Nothing Lasts Forever), Part VI

Part I (My Struggle I), Part II (Founder's Mutation), and Part III (Weremonster), Part IV (Home Again), Part V (Babylon), and Part VI (This.)

Had to cut down on my react posts because I didn't have the time, drive, or willpower to keep plowing through at the same rate.

OVERALL THOUGHTS

The usual complaints.

There are overly dramatic "DUUUUN" musical cues, scenes end too quickly, camera shot transition at odd times, and the cast can be too wooden or too emotionless in moments that desperately need something (Mitch Pileggi excepted. He nailed it.) David and Gillian trade off believability in their respective roles; and usually not in the same scene (unfortunately.) Scully is stuck with her 30-years-a-smoker voice; and Mulder magically finds every answer he could ever want from the Dark Web. (I don't think "the Dark Web" means what the writers think it means.)

However. The plots are tighter, the humor more effective, and the pacing (a tad) better constructed.

I wouldn't mind rewatching mid-S11 if it followed different characters in a different show. As it stands, nothing really hit the spot.

PLUS ONE

Mulder and Scully are but aren't but are together in S10 and S11. They also are in This but aren't in Plus One. What the script says they do versus what DD and GA portray them doing often clash.

Yeah, Mulder and Scully are already involved again in this episode. My theory: scoot-in-your-boot is a private in-joke they have. Backed up by: his twinkle and her quick "I'm scooting you out of here."

The siblings were like a Punch and Judy show, get it? (Chucky Poundstone? Punch? Ehhh? Also, Chuck like Chucky the doll. ...And also like the other Revival Chuck doll, Mr. Chuckleteeth.)

Plot problems:

A man who matched the profiles of recent, suicidal "sudden schizophrenia" victims was left, alone, in his cell while he screamed for help. That would not fly by 2015 standards. And if it did, there would be serious consequences or a serious attempt at a to cover up (which the cops didn't attempt to do.)

Chucky Poundstone: Fight Club levels of overacting.

Mulder and Scully were constantly called hot not because the topic naturally bloomed in conversation but because it was relevant to the episode's theme.

Scully let Demon Judy get to her. Scully wouldn't have been bothered to be out of "child-bearing age" because Mulder might want kids with someone else (WHEN HAS MULDER EVER)-- she should've been because she wasted their one shot at parenthood and "threw away" their son. Wrong track, wrong manipulation tactic. Like point 3, this was only brought up to serve the episode's theme, not because it was crafted to fit the characters.

A lot of Mulder and Scully's theories talked past each other or leaped from point to point without fully fleshing out the last one (i.e. Scully derailing their theories to insist that ghosts don't exist.)

Scully almost threw away the pills Judy gave her instead of, I don't know, testing them first.

Scully and Mulder didn't keep the lawyer under surveillance after he saw his double.

Scully didn't believe in the Devil anymore... despite the fact that she used to, and we aren't told when or why she changed her mind. Imperative character development the writers neglected.

Scully thought it was more plausible that a man would cut off his own head through shared psychosis than the possibility of a supernatural element at play.

Scully was butchered either way: she believes in a supernatural element but doesn't want to admit it to Mulder because Judy might be right about her; or, she believes everyone is in a state of delusion yet still gives weight to Judy's pokes about her age.

The "Can you hold me?" scene was pleasantly in-character for Scully, but wobbled and waffled for Mulder. It also bucked up against their "we're already together" vibe, and didn't fit with This (at all.)

"I don't have anyone to have one [a kid] with even if I could [have kids]." Script, don't insult my intelligence; Scully was literally in Mulder's arms when she said this ("What are we gonna do?"/"We'll think of something" kind of saves it. Rather, salvaged it.)

Mulder didn't see Scully's doppelganger even though he was facing the doorway and was on high alert. Scully didn't TELL HIM she saw her doppelganger earlier (which is stupid because she'd either be aware it's-- hello-- an evil entity or she could be considered a risk in the field.)

Mulder ran off WITHOUT SCULLY after seeing his double and after she admitted to seeing her own earlier.

Scully ATE RANDOM PILLS instead of, I don't know, analyzing them first. The plot needed to have Scully have the pills because she wouldn't have saved herself otherwise. And also: why did the placebo pills work??? We're never told anything about them other than they're leftovers from Judy's food, and that the nurses superstitiously take them, too. That's it. No followup.

Scully continued to drive after seeing "herself" in the backseat. She should have pulled over-- even if she believed the doppelganger was only an illusion-- because she'd become a road risk and was following the pattern of the other victims.

The siblings just got mad at each other and wrote each other's names in the hangman slots. Which saved Mulder and Scully while killing each other, conveniently.

The "Mom" and "Dad" hangman papers haven't aged a day, despite being written, supposedly, when Chuck and Judy were kids.

DD salvaged the ending by waiting in the doorway for Scully.

Plus One thrust me into a world where Mulder and Scully are jumping in and out of bed, from Unremarkable House to motel, from etc. to etc., without ever talking about their future-- more accurately, where the writing pretends Scully never pondered the obvious conclusion.

THE LOST ART OF FOREHEAD SWEAT

This episode worked... up to a point.

As a one-off, the comedy hit pretty consistently and Reggie was an enjoyable third wheel. (I admit: I ALMOST laughed out loud when Reggie shot Eddie Van Blundht in the head.) The writing was tight, the dialogue flowed smoothly, there were no out-of-place musical beats or lingering camera shots.

As a part of the overall canon?

Forehead Sweat solidifies, for me, what doesn't work about the "modernization" of the Revival. Dr. They kindly pronounces that Mulder and his way of life is no longer necessary in the current age... and that's the stickler. The current age. Fox Mulder didn't fit into the current-world 90s, either, because the mythology and Consortium and mystery behind the original show was a fabrication inspired by old politics-- the Cold War-- that was then mapped onto a very loose, very forgiving framework. If Carter and Co. had kept to that formula, had steered away from cookie-cuttering the 2015-2018 political climate into their show, then Fox Mulder and Dana Scully wouldn't seem so lost and out of place chasing X-Files in the forest in their 50s while aliens did or didn't plan to colonize the planet and Skinner might or might not be on their side. Because that would raise questions: why hasn't the Trump Administration shut them down-- he'd consider their unit useless. Why are Mulder and Scully now afraid the FBI will be suspicioned or "shut down" if it's always been corrupt, if even now they serve a counter-culture role to the establishment, instead of striking off on their own? More importantly, in an era steeped in finger-pointing and blame-shifting and distrust and disbelief, there's no way the cases that drift to the basement wouldn't be blown up on social media within hours-- especially when the 90s already had NICAP and MUFON and other groups who closely followed their niche interests. The logic of The X-Files quickly falls apart in a world that would afflict stricter and harsher consequences, 2015 and 1993 alike.

That aside, this was the best Revival episode, thus far, in terms of quality. I will give it that. (Note from the future: that will be outdone, I believe, by Ghouli.)

Plot problems:

The comedy bits hit, but Mulder and Scully warp in and out of character to achieve them (particularly: the repeated one where Scully keeps leaving before Mulder finishes rambling. Ironically, it's out of place with Darin's other comedic episode Weremonster as well as 200+ other examples of her character. But if the execution had been tweaked, those scenes would have been satisfying to watch. )

Mulder was LOUD. That's not new; but he was LOUD in the wrong moments, at the wrong times-- raising his voice, yelling, punctuating statements with STATEMENTS rather than his usual smooth pantomime or one-off, quick-witted remark.

The Babyfication of Dialogue continues ("sugarboobs", "I'm Fox Freaking Mulder, you punks!", etc.)

I'll bet Reggie kept hiding from the baddies in Skinner's office, hence why he knew him. This isn't a criticism so much as a theory. Or maybe those two gossiped over the water cooler-- Skinner knows everything and everyone, after all.

The Trump Administration poses no threat compared to the global Consortium and Conspiracy Mulder and Scully faced in the 90s. It was considered a threat to 2016s America, which would explain the "I feel like the world's gone mad" quotes the two leads keep kicking around. But, to them? Who lost and almost died and tried to save as many lives as possible to the Syndicate? And in a mythology that had large, regular gatherings of conspiracists who believed in aliens and distrusted the government (as seen in The Red and the Black) it disrespects the intelligence of its viewers by injecting and magnifying struggles that Mulder and Scully would philosophically take on the chin.

GHOULI

Another bump up in quality. The sharp back-and-forth camera techniques are better utilized with this episode's destabilizing, reality-questioning moments. Mulder rambling about the pathos and history behind classic monsters is a classic Mulder moment, Scully snorting and slightly smirking as he does so is a classic Scully moment. Is this the origin of the "Bob" nickname on Tumblr? The girl's "Kids would get stoned on it, in the summer. ...Not me!" was hilarious. Scully's speech in the morgue was the most Scully moment I've seen thus far. Scully subtly admitting to hiding evidence from her parents in her mattress (like Jackson.) Skinner always gets updates about Mulder's activities through other government employees' complaints.

Demerits: shots and cutaways still, well, cutaway at odd moments. Instead of holding on a scene and easing the audience into the atmosphere, cutcutcutcut snaps them out of it. But that's par for the course in the Revival; and it's not tooooooo badly done in Ghouli. Hoebag Jackson Van de Kamp. Mulder didn't get a moment to grieve over his son.

Thoughts? It turned from gripping mystery to big, fat disappointment. Skinner was great, Scully's morgue scene was great, um, Clone!Mulder had a nice moment or two. Jackson stank. As a condensed, disparate experience? It's alright. I quite liked it. (But it still wasn't The X-Files to me, etc. etc.)

Plot problems:

Mulder initially thought Scully's experience was sleep paralysis when he quite literally experienced this before in Paper Hearts. And neither were off-put or shaken by the similarities. (The episode tries to patch this up with, "You've been receiving visions through seizures. I'm sure this is another form"; but that's after she pointed to an open x-file and identified that boat as the one in her "dream".)

Mulder quoted a quote similar but different to his own from the original show. Instead of, y'know, quoting his own quote.

Mulder and Scully's kid is just Free Willying it up everywhere. And for what?

If CC wanted to do away with William (and that's an if), his death and his last attempt at justice for himself and his adoptive parents would have been a mature, heartbreaking way to do it. But no, we got My Struggle IV instead.

Mulder is oddly hesitant to believe his son's alive-- he's usually the one who is borderline delusional about believing and having hope. Yes, the series is supposed to show Mulder on the "other side": depressed (maybe? jury's out), burnt-out, and afraid to believe. But it goes back and forth on that message so often that there is no concrete change in his character to hold onto.

SKINNER'S ON THE CSM'S LEASH AGAIN.

We're back on the "men in Conspiracy but actually aliens but ACTUALLY men in Conspiracy" schtick. Pick a lane, mytharc.

Jackson played dead but it backfired because his parents found him not the agents, then he had to escape so the agents know he's on the run anyway, so.... *Cue Tony Stark*: "Not a great plan." Jackson is an idiot.

Mulder puts together all the pieces of the case off-screen without us, the audience, being there to see him working the mystery out logically. A "tell don't show" approach that undercuts the brilliance of his leaps.

Jackson let his two gfs see a monster and stab each other.... Jackson is an idiot.

Jackson made up a monster legend website to prank both his girlfriends-- who don't know the other exists-- at once; and ended up causing them to stab each other in fright. Jackson's an IDIOT.

Jackson is an IDIOT and a bit of a psychopath. And a LOT of an IDIOT. And he only got his visions and powers recently (since My Struggle II or III, it would appear); so he had to be an idiot before unlocking his abilities-- like the Rush highschoolers. So. Great going, writers.

SARAH TURNED HIM IN BECAUSE HE WAS KISSING ANOTHER GIRL. I mean, get him, girl; but then don't come groveling back.

JACKSON DOES THE MULDER FOREHEAD TOUCH WITH ONE OF HIS TWO GIRLFRIENDS.

JACKSON GOES ON THE RUN INSTEAD OF ASKING FOR HELP FROM HIS POSSIBLE BIO MOM DESPITE HAVING VISIONS OF HER BECAUSE HE'S AN IDIOT.

Mulder. Never. Had. A. Moment. With. His. Son. WHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHY.

Oh. Mulder and Scully accepted their son wanted to move on with his life, away from them. ...Nnnnnnnoooooooooo, Jackson's not safe and is now an orphan and a high school dropout. NOPE.

KITTEN

This is Blood and Sleepless and Wetwired 4.0. ...But it's not bad.

Mulder snooping around Skinner's kitchen... fine, I liked it. Sue me.

The cop... fine, sue me, I liked him.

Skinner's code name is Eagle... because he's bald. I don't care, sue me, that was hilarious.

Skinner had the best speech.

I admit: I really, really do like this episode. It's the only one that fits into canon, oddly. (Mulder and Scully aren't themselves, etc. etc., blah blah, what else is new.)

My overall thoughts: Um. What did it achieve? Kinda progressed their characters forward... but had to regress them, first. Mind control and chemtrails and falling teeth and Mulder and Scully possibly holding Skinner's career back and Mulder distrusting Skinner but trusting him again while Scully did trust Skinner and was proven right in the end.... And a reference to Mulder's juices. It was necessary for Season 11, character-wise-- a "let's repair the damage to Mulder's trust issues" (which had been resolved?? in This but then wasn't, I guess??)

Plot problems:

There goes S9 Kersh's character development: all that he came to believe in. Right down the drain. (Not that I care; but keep it consistent, series.)

Scully questioning what happened to "the old, reliable Skinner we always knew and loved" is RICH considering A. she and Mulder were questioning his loyalty not five episodes ago and B. Skinner constantly got his hands dirty to help them out (which they largely forget in the Revival, for plot reasons, unless forced into a corner.)

Mulder: "As much as I don't trust the guy right now--" EXCUSE ME. I don't care what My Struggle II or III implied, Mulder of all people, Mulder, has seen Skinner squeezed into tighter corners and still ended up trusting him.

Skinner's getting framed, again, on surveillance tape.

SCULLY giving Skinner the benefit of the doubt, NOT MULDER.

There's no way Skinner's surviving that wound without blood transfusions and serious medical attention. Nope.

Skinner... was behind the two agents... in a pit... but managed to not only climb out but outrun them... in the woods... with a side wound... and knock over a full-grown man... and punch him enough so that said man could get caught in his own trap. ...'Kay.

So. The teeth falling out was never explained. Except to suggest, I guess, that the gas slowly rots them out? Except the policeman and his wife also had teeth loss? Or was that as a comedic bit? Or and as a comedic bit? Who knows!

WAIT, I WAS WRONG. CHEMTRAILS. Really. CHEMTRAILS SPREADING POISON OVER THE TOWN. (Blood already did this but BETTER, writers.)

Mulder's "We're with you" is undercut by nearly 30 years of previous history.

Rm9sbG93ZXJz

This episode is, again, not too bad.

The characters, again again, don't feel like Mulder or Scully to me; but I could see Mulder and Scully doing the actions that the characters did. All in all, I can see why those who like the Revival would enjoy watching this.

Also, I still wish Clone!Mulder never had to pay the tip.

Plot problems:

The world with all this tech doesn't coincide nor coexist with The X-Files universe (and, yes, that include the Revival.)

The whole... not speaking thing. I know it was supposed to be artistic or to convey some layered meaning; but, narratively, it was off-putting. Perhaps if they'd both been knocked about in the field, and it was painful to talk? Mutual tonsil surgery? Anything??

Whipz. Get it? Scully whipz and naynays.

The robots having that much influence over lesser forms of tech (i.e. Mulder's cable, not smart, tv.)

Mulder would have absolutely spiraled if he'd experienced half of what this episode put him through. Scully would have spiraled. None of this would not have been easily brushed aside with a tip.

Mulder still calls sex phone operators; and the machines ratted him out to Scully. Either that, or it was a callback just so Mulder could tell the caller to "Shut up." He's grown and changed, guys~~~~~.

It doesn't make sense why the robots are trying to kill Mulder or Scully if they want a tip from them. OR, one could argue, the robots are threatening Scully's life so Mulder will pay the tip. Either way, the two could have been killed multiple times if they hadn't ducked or dodged. Seems counter-intuitive, and mostly just in service for a "surprise, we just want the tip" twist ending.

"We have to be better teachers." REALLY. That's the takeaway. Not the fact that they were almost KILLED due to the incompetence or oversight of whoever created these robots. REALLY.

FAMILIAR

So. Uh. Classic X-File. Held up pretty well. Classic Mulder eating crime scene evidence. The script was old-school tight.

In other words, this was Chimera 2.0. But not too shabby.

Plot problems:

The police immediately rule out the child's cause of death as a murder. And think it might be a coyote. Or a coy wolf. ...Uh huh.

"You're my homie": Babyfication back.

Scully doesn't believe in human combustion. ...Honestly, shakes out with her theory having been disproved in Trevor. (Although, I don't know if there was a spontaneous human combustion case in S9, feel free to correct me.)

Scully telling Mulder he's "wasting his time" for wanting to interview a little girl who was an eyewitness. ...WHAT.

The boy's mother is... not the best actress. Taking me back to the OG show at times.

What are those creepy teletubbies. Nightmare fuel.

The community... didn't know... there was a convicted sex offender... in their midst. ...Did no one care to look up, I don't know, A SEX OFFENDER REGISTRY??

WHY is Scully fighting back against his witchcraft thesis when she's witnessed a witch doctor plastic surgeon AND a bewitched doll??? Amongst such things????

Gotta admit: I chuckled when Mulder accidentally got the Chief to confess to an affair (his "I... did not see that coming.") However: that scene was wildly out of place amidst the tragedy of the salt-circle and the possible murder of the innocent-in-this-case pedophile.

The episode just skips from the police officer shooting the pedo straight to the officer's trial. ...What happened to that old curse put on the town, huh? Just... took a break for a couple weeks? Mulder and Scully stuck around, or flew out-and-in while Mr. Chuckleteeth took a power nap?

Officer Wentworth let Scully's suspicions slip to the child's father, at the child's funeral, and is kind of portrayed as the good guy here. He doesn't express remorse for not following protocol (especially to a broken-down father grieving the death of his child), only that he is "sickened" a man (the father he broke protocol for) gunned down another man without due process. ...'Kay.

So, all the responsible parties involved all die because the jealous wife was cursing the cheating woman and eventually her husband. ...But if that's the case, why did the Hellhound go after the CHILDREN first, not the two people it was summoned to punish?? Usually things go awry after a bit of murder and mayhem, not before.

NOTHING LASTS FOREVER

What a stinker of an episode. Just when the cinematography levels out, the plot absolutely rots.

I did like Mulder scaring off the two officers by pretending to be a religious supernatural investigator.

And the church scene was good. It was necessary for this series, for these characters. Glad it was done. (I say Scully whispered she's ready to let go of the past: a.k.a. move back in with him, let go of the files even, let go of her rigid expectations of herself. Hence Mulder's line: "I always wondered how it was going to end.")

Plot problems (well... some of them, lost interest):

I hated... everything about that opening sequence. Doctors eating pancreases, illegal organ harvest, "chemtrails" reference, NINJA WOMAN WHO CAN TOPPLE A GROWN MAN, NAAAAH, GET IT OUTTA HERE. THIS ISN'T BATWOMAN, BOOOOOO.

Mulder's defensive over his glasses. ...They both have needed glasses since the 90s. Is Scully ribbing him over a stronger prescription?? I don't think so.

Mulder only has progressive lenses because the plot needs a contrast to a cult sacrificing people for eternal life (Our Town and Sanguinarium and Roadrunners, anyone?)

The gore's just off the charts, huh?

Crazy, washed-up actress living off of her shut-ins' blood. Possibly their organs. To remain forever young. ...I unironically read a better fanfic of this, ngl.

There are so many, too many, egregiously many plot contrivances. Wow. Here's just one set: Ninja killer is seeking vengeance but just happens to attend church the same day Scully just happens to attend church the same day Mulder happens to follow Scully in the same day the priest happens to put up the verse that just so happens to correspond with the verse on the evidence organ cooler which just so HAPPENS to be tied to a small illegal operation keeping a crazy washed-up actress alive and young while she subsists off of parts from her shut-ins she "rescued" from the street. Stunning.

Mulder never had a dog: confirmed. ...But he did have a dog in his childhood photos, soooooooooo. Guess someone else gave it to him, then. (Or there is no show bible. Or this is an awful, no good, no-hate-if-you-like-it-but-I-don't universe.)

WE'RE STILL ON THE MAGGIE COIN NECKLACE??? What other answer for it is there except it was the date Charlie walked out of her life???? Ugh, forget it. The writers wanted it to be a mystery box. Then Gillian walked away from the series and nothing was resolved, yolo.

Mulder always bears North, Scully says, no matter how hard the wind blows against him. ...Except it didn't-- numerous times in this series, numerous times in this season, in fact. The Revival is, in fact, built on top of him losing his way pre-My Struggle I. So. Strike 1000 for missteps in Writing 101, I suppose.

Big Boss fight with a woman attached to his back. ...Guys, this isn't The X-Files, this is Resident Evil.

Olivia looks ghostly pale on second, then almost normal the second the guy she's attached to is murdered. ...Guys. She's attached to a dead guy. That's gotta be sepsis by the time she's in the hospital, right? Also: if Olivia was in THIS deep in a cult, she would have been devastated, not dazed but delighted, that her sister had killed the guy she was attached to.

CONCLUSION

I'm freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!

If I feel in a ranty mood in future, I'll cover the last three Struggle episodes. But until then, my Revival journey has reached its end.

And what are my final thoughts? The same as they were going in. ;))

Thanks for reading¬

Enjoy!

[adiluv-moved]

☆ ､､ 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 !

experimenting a bit more with my layouts! not too visible with this very simple post but lmk what you think! anyway, foçalors seems like an interesting character and i absolutely love her design, so... hope you enjoy! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

692 words. written before 4.2, not edited.

lady furina who first encounters you during a civil affairs case, sitting with her head resting in her palm as she'd been forced to watch the owner of a small fruit stand claiming you'd stolen from them. although she'd always had a penchant for the dramatic, she hardly considered three measly apples to be worth her time, such small issues being utterly and totally devoid of the theatrics she drew her entertainment from. had neuvillette not been so adamant in her appearance—claiming it a part of her 'duty' as the hydro archon—she doubted that she would've even made an appearance. alas, he was, and she'd all but resigned herself to her fate.

lady furina who ends up picking up an interest in you as the proceedings continue, clearly noticing the not-so-subtle glances that you send her way. At first, she doesn't pay much mind to it, though her curiosity is quickly piqued when she notices the barely concealed look of awe and adoration within your gaze. it sends her reeling almost instantaneously, posture straightening up completely as a smile graces her features. proud, as she is, she can't help but find your attention amusing, ego stroked by the undivided focus you keep on her. as you should, of course—somebody so pure and elegant deserves it—but she can't deny that your decision to ignore the accusations being levied against you certainly is silly.

lady furina who's hardly suprised when the oratrice confirms your guilt, nearly letting out a laugh at the confused look on your face. she ends up stepping in to change your punishment, noting that it'd be a waste of resources to even attempt fining you when you weren't even able to pay for fruit. instead, your crimes would be repayed by your assistance to the court, a decision that the masses would report as being 'undeniably wise'. while she lives for their praise and has absolutely zero intent to correct them… it was really just an excuse for her to get to see you again.

lady furina who, while noted by neuvillette as being notoriously ꒰and irritatingly꒱ distant in the upkeep of the nation, is now magically more involved. while he does maintain some initial speculation about her motivations, they're easily confimed once he takes note of her desire to make your accquaintance. besides the small setbacks that occur whenever she gets derailed in an attempt to impress you ꒰poor thing becomes the resident third wheel꒱, he's genuinely pleased about her heightened activity within national affairs. The weather becomes warmer as a result, with many citizens taking the opportunity to go diving.

as such, what was supposed to be a short time working beneath the archon eventually becomes a full-time job once the hydro ludex himself ends up recuiting you. ignoring your own personal desires to remain in close proximity to the archon—an honor within its own right—the pay is ludicrously good, more mora than you'd even know what to do with. you'd have to be a fool to decline.

lady furina who would never stoop down to the level of admitting feelings for a mere mortal, instead opting for the more 'dignified' approach of following you around like a lost puppy as often as possible. neuvillette, for the sake of prolonging her interest within the issues of the nations, is roped in to play the part of a middle man—much to his disconcertion. he ends up accidentally admitting the archon's sentiments to you in an attempt to figure out whether or not you reciprocate, nearly giving the god a heart attack as the words slip past his lips.

very luckily, her rising panic is quelled by the ectsatic look on your face, the sudden clicking of her shoes alerting the pair of you as she rushes away to celebrate. you'll have to be the one to go to her, unfortunately, and while she does attempt to squeeze a confession out of you… well, she'd rather just go ahead and skip to the part where you ask for the honor to be hers. she'll make you squirm a little, but don't worry. she has every intent to agree.

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

[1daroaceficfest]

Welcome to the 1D Aro/Ace Fic Fest! - Currently Posting!

A One Direction Fic Fest centred around all the identities on the aromantic and asexual spectrum

1D Aro/Ace Fest Round I - Masterpost

🩶 Listening to Intuition by lululawrence / @lululawrence = Louis/Harry - Zayn/Liam | 5K | Not Rated | fic post =

Now that Zayn was laying it all out like this, Louis got to wondering… could it be possible that he was never able to get a really good handle on what exactly aromanticism was because he’d never felt romantic attraction, and without that key piece, how could he possibly figure out what it truly meant to be lacking it? Louis has a good grasp of his own identity and how all the pieces of him fit together in his life as a queer man in a committed relationship with his partner. Or so he thinks until his favorite aroace TikTok creator shows him another possibility he may have previously overlooked.

🩶 I'd Rather You (Hold Me) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed = Zayn/Louis | 14K | Teen And Up | fic post =

He frowns when he hears the dial tone. By now, he knows just how many times the sound will come through, tinny on the speakers, before it clicks over to voicemail, and yet he still feels his heart trip over itself whenever the voice first comes through. “Hi, you’ve reached Zayn-” He sighs, rubbing at his forehead, where his headache always tends to bloom when he’s stressed. “Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, disconnecting the call and resisting the childish urge to redial immediately, knowing that if Zayn’s not picking up now, he won’t no matter how much Louis bugs him. It’s just - this isn’t like them. It isn’t like Zayn to dodge his calls for days, not unless he’s seriously incapacitated or dead, but if that were the case, Louis would’ve heard. Because Louis is his emergency contact, for one, and both their families know how much they mean to one another. Someone would’ve called, if something had happened, unless Zayn was dead in his own house, and, oh God, what if Zayn’s dead in his own house and Louis has been mentally calling him a dickhead while he’s rotting on the bathroom floor? Spoiler: Zayn isn't dead. There is however, suddenly a baby.

🩶 a little, then suddenly by HoldingOnToChaos / @holdingontochaos = Louis/Harry | 34K | Explicit | fic post =

Written for the Aro/Ace Fest 2024. Prompt 12: Gray-Asexual (demisexual) Harry falls in love and gets attracted to his best friend Louis after fifteen years of friendship.

🩶 A ROad and A ROmance to self discovery by rockstarlwt28 / @rockstarlwt28 = Louis/Harry | 3K | General | fic post =

Louis Tomlinson, a motivational speaker for the LGBTQ plus community finds himself confronted with a student who is determined to derail his presentation. Reaching boiling point and landing in hot water, Louis seeks out a place of serenity. A welcomed presence of additional tranquillity and renowned first class student Harry Styles, accompanies him. Prompt: Louis creates a “guide” to aro/ace for a college presentation and Harry (who had been previously doubting his sexual orientation) realises that he might be aro/ace.....also bonus if you could make it an interactive presentation where there is this one asshole who is constantly arguing with Louis about this not being a sexuality and saying bullshit like 'sexual love is the only form of love' and 'you are just boring' but Louis gives witty comebacks and shuts him up. In the end, Harry and Louis have a chat in a library where Louis helps him with coming to terms with his sexuality.

🩶 It's Not That I Don't Want You by parmahamlarrie / @parmahamlarrie = Louis/Harry | 12,5K | Explicit | fic post =

It begins with a benign comment during a night in watching a show with his lovely boyfriend, Louis, and leads Harry to a months long journey to understand himself better. Will Harry figure out what makes him feel so different from everyone else? And will he find the courage to tell his boyfriend? Or a character study into Ace Harry with the most supportive boyfriend, Louis.

🩶 I Wish You Knew I Love You by SuperNoah / @super--noah = Louis/Harry | 7K | Mature | fic post =

When Harry and Louis met at 16 they instantly became best friends. They still are, even now as they're both finishing their master's at Manchester University, but Harry's jealous boyfriend is trying to drive a wedge between them. As Harry's relationship takes a turn for the worse Louis realises he's fallen in love with Harry. Will Harry stay with James? Or will his jealousy end them for good? Does Louis even have a chance with Harry if he ever becomes single? Demisexual/demiromantic Louis realises something massive about his feelings for his best friend, Harry, over Christmas. But Harry is with James and seems to be happy. Louis would never have a chance with Harry anyway. Harry likes sex and Louis doesn't, he never has and probably never will.

🩶 Just The Way You Are by enchantedlandcoffee / @enchantedlandcoffee = Louis/Harry | 780 | General | fic post =

"Do you miss it?" "Miss what, love?" He could hear the frown in Louis’ voice, and tried to subtly release soothing pheromones into the kitchen "You know...sex and all that." "Where's this coming from, Haz?" Or, the one where Harry confesses his worries, and Louis reassures him.

🩶 Somebody to Love (in the Right Way) by The_Halcyonic_Lachesist / @chai-hat-tea = Louis/Harry | 21K | Mature | fic post =

He fell on his bed, happy tears flowing from his eyes. For the first time, he felt seen. He felt valid. He felt good within his skin. He wanted to dance with joy, for he finally found the answers he didn’t know he needed. Or a story about discovery, acceptance, and happily ever afters.

🩶 Stronger Than the Tide by haztobegood / @haztobegood = Louis & Harry | 3,3K | General | fic post =

The time Louis had spent talking with Harry in the cave had flown by. He was still unsure where the time had gone. Maybe it was because this was the first real connection Louis had made in years. Love and sex did not interest Louis, and it became harder to find good friends. It was different with Harry. Their conversation flowed effortlessly without pressing for more. Despite the hours they spent together in the cave, Louis wanted to keep talking, to share more of himself, and to learn more about Harry. He hoped their paths would cross again soon.

🩶 Let Your Tears Fall (No I Won't Judge You) by LiveLaughLoveLarry (SoLongAndThanksForAllTheFic) / @loveislarryislove = Louis/Harry | 7,9K | Explicit | fic post =

“I want to feel good," Harry says. "I want you to feel good. I just… I don’t know what that looks like.”  Louis nods. “That’s fair,” he says. “Always a bit of a learning curve, figuring out what you like and what you don’t.” He rubs his chin. “What if we just… talk through it? Instead of doing it?”  Harry blinks. “What do you mean?” he says. “I don’t – I just don’t know what-” “I know,” Louis says. “It’s okay.” He brushes his hand down Harry’s cheek, soft and gentle. “I can start,” he says. “Tell you about what I imagine us doing together. And anytime you feel like something isn’t right – you can stop me, and we can figure out a different path.” Harry nods slowly. “Okay,” he says. “I can try.” Four times Harry cries during sex. And four times Louis is right there beside him, giving him all the comfort and support and validation he needs.

If you have any questions feel free to reach out via ask or send an email to 1daroaceficfest@gmail.com

[solarmorrigan]

For the heart prompt could you possibly do 💚 please? Thank you in advance ☺️

My guy, I cannot even tell you how much this one argued with me. A challenge! It was fun, though, thank you for the prompt :D

💚 true love's kiss / magic kiss / healed

Prompt from this post

-

It’s practically the stuff of fairy tales – like something out of the story books Steve’s mom would read to him before bed, back when doing stuff like reading to your kid was in vogue.

It isn’t that soulmates aren’t real—it’s the sort of thing you’ll hear about a friend of a friend or see in the news sometimes, that a soulmate pair has come together, usually when one or both of the people involved are already famous—it’s just that they’re rare.

Not everyone is lucky enough to find their fated person – the person who will complete them, whose presence will soothe, whose very touch is said to be healing (and Steve has no idea if that’s all built-up, romanticized bullshit or not, but he likes imagining that it’s true, anyway).

Steve used to fantasize about it, if he’s honest: finding his One True Love, having a soulmate, someone who would love him unconditionally and never want to abandon him.

Of course, as he gets older, he realizes that it’s both unlikely and unrealistic to imagine that he, of all people, would have a soulmate. And in any case, he doesn’t need one. He still finds his people – people who love him and who care about him and who he loves and cares for in return. No soul bond required.

People like Dustin and Robin – and Eddie, who Steve enjoys being around more than he possibly could have imagined. Eddie, who takes the time to explain his references when Steve gets lost, who listens when Steve wants to talk about his own things, who not only tolerates but seems to delight in when Steve wants to take care of him, who sticks up for and takes care of Steve in return.

Eddie, who seems just as drawn to Steve as Steve is to him.

Even now, when they’d had plans to hang out for the day and Steve’s goddamn brain had ruined it all by smacking him upside the head with a migraine, Eddie is there. He isn’t even mad that their plans have been derailed – he’s just bringing Steve water and his medication and making sure that the blinds are closed and that he’s comfortable, and who the fuck even needs a soulmate, Steve fucking loves this man.

In his muddled state, he thinks he might try to say as much, but it comes out as more of a sleepy mumble. The jumble of syllables catches Eddie’s attention, at least, and brings him back to the side of the bed, where he perches and leans towards Steve.

“How’re you doing?” he asks softly.

Steve hums – less of an answer, and more of a confirmation that he’s still alive.

Eddie gives him a soft smile of sympathy and reaches over to brush Steve’s bangs back from his forehead. Steve swears his head clears a little just at the touch.

“Sorry the day got ruined,” he finally manages, and Eddie shakes his head.

“Nah, it’s fine. We’ve always got more time. Sorry you’re feeling shitty, though,” Eddie says.

And then– and then he leans in and presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead, quick and soft, and the touch of his lips against Steve’s skin sparks. It tingles and spreads and Steve gasps and shivers at the weird, weird feeling of all his pain suddenly draining away, leaving him feeling perfectly well and completely fucking stunned.

He stares up at Eddie, who stares back at him, just as startled, his fingers hovering somewhere near his lips as if he’d been poking at them trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

Steve can see the moment he comes to the exact same conclusion that Steve has.

“Oh,” Eddie says quietly, and Steve laughs, sitting up to throw his arms around Eddie’s neck.

Those stupid storybooks were right, Steve decides, as he pulls Eddie in for a full and proper kiss – sometimes dreams really do come true.

[strunmah-mah]

So I saw this interesting post discussing the bashing of otome heroines, and the person i saw it from had some tags comparing the OBSCURA and Touchstarved mc's and the different fan response to them. Which go me thinking, but reposing to it there felt like it would have derailed that post, some I'm putting my thoughts here instead.

Basically the tags were an observation that OBSCURA's mc gets treated as their own character (Vesper) whose popularity is comparable to that of all the different love interests. Meanwhile Touchstarved's fandom doesn't seem to rally around one singular MC with everyone having own OC instead. This despite the fact that their both gender neutral blank slates you never even really see.

I'd noticed that too and got thinking of why that is, so here's my theory.

Name. Notice that I referred to OBSCURA's mc as Vesper, but didn't give a name to Touchstarved's mc? When asking what your name is OBSCURA auto suggests a name. There's a not insignificant number of people that when given an auto suggested name won't go to the effort of changing it. (ex My first time playing a Legend of Zelda game it didn't even occur to me to change Link's name despite it definitely being an option.) And despite still being a reader insert just the act of giving them name makes Vesper feel like a more defined then Touchstarved unnamed MC does.

Origins. Vesper is Vesper. Who they were before the start of OBSCURA doesn't really matter, no matter what you might hc they were like before the start of the story, they still enter the mountain with the skill set no matter what. Touchstarved's mc is deliberately fluid. They have three different possible backgrounds and which one you pick does effect the mc's skill set. Make your own oc is literally built into the game.

Presentation of information. Touchstarved is very upfront about their mc's motivations. You are cursed. It's very isolating and has caused you to hurt others unintentionally. You are looking for a cure. What your curse is is never really a question. That's a very different experience from playing OBSCURA. The games hook is "people don't go under the mountain unless they have a good reason, unfortunately you have a great reason" it does not say the reason, it's a great hook. So you play the game, you go under the mountain and you find out what you're looking for is . . . blue moon ichor. You have no context for what that is, it's not initially explained, but it makes people pity you. It's not until you meet one of the LI's that it's revealed you want the ichor. You only only learn about Vesper's motivations as they chose to reveal that information to others. It's an interesting story telling choice. For me, it was more engaging to have Vesper being just as much of a mystery as everything else, than Touchstarved approach of giving that information upfront, but it comes at a cost. The MC's are both supposed to be self inserts, but hiding that information puts distance you and Vesper again making them feel more like their own character than a self insert.

Choice. Atleast as far the demos go Vesper's choices matter more. Your choices change who you meet, if you get a partner to help you face the future, or if you fail to achieve your goal chapter one. The Touchstarved mc makes choices too, it gives you slightly different dialog and you then you move on with your day. The TS MC is a vehicle to meet that game's LI's, your choices change what side of them you get to see. In Obscura your choices affect Vesper first and fore most, which again gives Vesper a stronger sense of character.

Just to be clear, I don't want this to sound like me dunking on RedSpringStudios and say they can't make good characters. Boy can they! All five of their love interests are full of character and intrigue. It's like I said in point two, the "build your own oc" approach seems very purposeful. It's a fan response they've encouraged, even releasing bio templates that match the official bios of all the LI's. This is what they wanted.

What amuses me is that RottenRaccons did not seem to realize what they had done. They seem very surprised but pleased by how much fans are latching onto Vesper as their own character.

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

I cropped this to make my own post because I didn't want to start discourse for OP who is just minding their business and whose posts I've seen around and from that is someone I respect.

(OP if you see this and want to participate in this discussion you are more than welcome to; I just didn't want to derail your post that had a clear intended audience that wasn't me or most of my followers.)

However this:

Is so interesting to me theologically, because I'm not sure I could relate less, lol.

I never want punishment for punishment's sake for anyone, even my worst enemies. I just don't. I don't think it helps at all or fixes anything. If anything, it makes me feel worse, because then I have to consider the ethics of causing suffering to someone or having suffering caused on my behalf. If you hurt me, I don't want a moral, ethical obligation to consider your feelings and empathize with you. You just hurt me! If I hurt you back in ways that aren't simply self-defense, but are calculated and premeditated for the sole purpose of revenge, it doesn't fix whatever you broke, and it just creates a crack that allows you to claim a moral grey area that didn't exist before. And no, I don't want an eternal Hell to exist for me, my enemies or anyone else. The worst person I can think of could not possibly, in the duration of a human lifetime, ever deserve an eternity of punishment. Period. It's not proportional, it still doesn't fix whatever you broke, and it ethically forces my hand to forgive you to hopefully avoid a fate that no one should face.

No, the one thing that I want is teshuva. Let's take the most extreme personal example I can think of: the person who abused me. He cannot fix what he did to me, because it's done. The trauma is there, and no apology could possibly heal it. I healed it, after a lot of hard work. I don't want any kind of relationship with him and have been no contact for years now. So literally the only thing he can actually realistically do is to work on himself so he never abuses anyone else. I don't wish for bad things to happen to him. I gave him everything I had when we were together because I loved him. I don't wish for him to experience abuse, because that's actually almost certainly what started this cycle of violence to begin with. I hope he finds peace, I hope he works on his mental health, and I hope he works on himself so that he never abuses anyone else. If he wanted to make teshuva, then, he would need to (1) recognize the true extent of what he did to me and regret it thoroughly, (2) apologize sincerely, (3) otherwise continue to stay away from me, and (4) actually deal with his problems so that he never hurts anyone else. And so long as he remained in a state of not abusing others, he would have my full forgiveness. He hasn't done any of that, but if he did, I would forgive him fully. How would punishing him help me? I don't care what he does these days as long as he stays no contact and doesn't abuse anyone else.

And yeah - I'm certain Hashem loves him and every other part of creation as much as She loves me; I sure hope so, actually! That doesn't give him or me or anyone else a free pass, but the love of G-d is unconditional, like an idealized parent-child relationship. A loving parent still holds a child accountable, even if they forgive the child for wrongdoing, because the accountability process is actually part of that love. A parent who refuses to hold their child accountable is actually being neglectful.

Anyway it's just an interesting cultural difference, because the very concept of an eternal Hell breaks my faith in a way that unconditional love of G-d towards everyone, including the worst people I know, doesn't.

[unhetalia]

it’s the body headcanon anon again!

this one is a doozy. i apologize.

First, i read ur post about fatphobia like a ravenous animal. wonderful. trying not to let me be derailed. fists gripping the table cloth teeth clenched shaking. Second i took a health & wellness course like 2 years ago & this has been sitting in my notes app since. Half of this doesn’t even make sense to me anymore. & I think some of the data is outdated, like ik there’s more research into mechanical damage now. im lazy. Shrug.

I LOVE the idea that America is only mildly toned. Not really muscular, not overtly chubby, but certainly soft around the edges. I’m going to blab now.

I don’t think Ame is biologically capable of building much muscle. He's not incapable, but it would be significantly more difficult. Ame is naturally super strong; weight doesn’t seem to affect him, & when it does, it’s very minimal. Being unable to lift weights as a means to bulk & build muscle is a HUGELY DEBILITATING PROBLEM.

Building muscle is what fills out your physique. There’s a lot of different things that can go into muscle building, hypertrophy, & he quite literally can’t do half of them. He can’t lift weights, bc weight lifting only works to build muscle bc it’s helping to achieve mechanical damage & metabolic fatigue (& he does it like breathing. clearly not fatiguing anyone.) Progressive overload would be borderline impossible, as adding weight is once again out of the question & increasing reps will at some point no longer be conceivably possible. It’s complicated! He’d probably have to rely on things that would be considered toning, rather than bulking. “Toning” (vague term tbh, very loose) develops lean muscle & reduces your body fat through lifting moderate weights & stretching. Repetition & endurance is more what makes toning work, exhausting the muscles to achieve metabolic fatigue. This would be the sort of strength training that’s probably possible, but even then, only to a certain extent.

He can’t really do exercises that are… “outside his own body”. Like, he could probably do squats, lunges, planks, things that are his body and his body alone. He can’t really do push-ups or pull-ups, since that’s just lifting weight again. But maybe he’s only really strong if his whole body is involved, so exercises like that could work if it’s just his arms or legs doing the work? Maybe he’s able to do resistance/strength training on one part of his body at a time? Maybe he can build the strength in individual limbs, but it’s gotta max out at some point? I thought maybe he could use bands for resistance, but then I thought about it more, & damn that’s kind of just lifting weights again! He’d probably break the damn things! Or cut off his blood circulation before it actually gave him any proper resistance…

this all leads into my headcanons about his body and what it’s capable of but this is already too long. Ok. Sorry for coming into ur inbox with half an essay. thank u for having me.

oh my god NEVER APOLOGISE. It's so fascinating to think of America being unable to build muscle due to his own 'powers'. I've never thought of this and I'm absolutely incorporating it into my own headcanons.

Soft America has always been my bread and butter (both in body and personality). Thank you for giving me something else to chew on regarding that.

[office-anomaly]

I mean, I’d love to hear your varcie thoughts!

(again, these are my opinions only. we can discuss to avoid fighting if ever there is disagreement lol ;w;)

READ UNDER THE CUT

ok so i will preface this by saying that everything is framed in the context of SDMI since marcie appears in that show only. vaphne and varcie are both good ships, but i prefer varcie a bit more due to how in sync velma is with marcie in a way that i think is even more aligned than she is with daphne in the show. and an extra element that i think seals the deal for me!

the first is the most obvious, which is velma and marcie being more aligned in interest and intellect. daphne is also intelligent, but it manifests more in her empathy and social navigation rather than hard knowledge and investigative method. this difference in approaching problems is important, and since marcie has the same (or near the same) informational understanding of the world as velma, this allows her to help velma in more straightforward ways. one example is how they were able to reverse engineer a tracking device from a chip they found, making investigation easier. given velma's one-track mindedness for mystery-solving, this could be read as commitment on marcie's part.

velma and marcie also both come from the same circuit. while different interests have not hindered velma and daphne from forming a meaningful friendship, it did affect priorities for them, the most obvious one being personal pursuits. having similar approaches to problem-solving allows velma and marcie focus on the task at hand most, if not all, the time. this lessens the likelihood of derailment and friction. a fair thing consider though is there's speculation here due to how brief marcie's appearance was in SDMI.

second is how they made each other better people in the short time they had on SDMI. as i said in a previous post that i like vaphne because V&D make each other better people, but we see this across the span of many shows and movies rather than being contained in a single storyline, so it feels less urgent and more stable. i felt like in SDMI, it was more of a given that V&D would be there for each other rather than a development i'm supposed to follow. in the case of velma and marcie, it was such a delight to see them develop into each other's support systems, even if its origins were off-screen in the time between seasons. personally, this feels more heartwarming because you see how big the changes are in velma when she came to terms with who she is and dropped whatever pretense she had about what she thinks she needs. it was refreshing and freeing to see her not want to change anything about marcie because she already knows that this is what she needs.

in marcie's case, she finally found a friend (and possibly more) in velma and doesn't feel like she has to put up walls around her. it's fairly simple since she's a secondary character, but it doesn't feel any less earned.

the whole rivals-to-friends-to-lovers thing is honestly so peak, i have to say.

third and last is...there's an element of reckless abandon that adds a lot of drama to this ship--which is ironic since both girls are shown to be very logical and grounded. what does this mean? you have to excuse me for being a bit delusional, but it reads like love to me. i think this is a unique factor of varcie, where our girls make dangerous, borderline bonkers calls in the name of love for each other.

we all know what happened at the end of marcie's arc, but there were other instances where she willingly laid down her own safety just so velma can achieve her goals. it almost feels kind of like a soap opera, where love takes over logic by way of self-sacrifice (figuratively and *sigh* literally). like you gotta realize how insane it is for marcie to say yes to going into the heart of Mr. E's lair to steal the disks for velma (and mystery inc). that is not a light favor to ask, and not a light favor to agree to!

on velma's end, she has to swallow her grief and see things through to not waste marcie's sacrifice. that is not an easy thing to do either. there's a tinge of madness happening in this ship that's driven by love and i think that's bittersweet and beautiful :( i try to be normal about this ship, but i fail most of the time lol

so yeah, that's pretty much it. thanks for being patient and reading my thoughts on varcie. i wanted to make sure what i'm writing made sense, so hopefully it does (??). if there are any violent reactions, let me know, we can talk about it :D

[doberbutts]

Gotta say, it really rubs me the wrong way that your post specifically about experiencing harassment for speaking up about transmasc issues was added to with a comment somewhat about harassment being part of the transfem experience... I know that person probably saw your post without any of the context and was just projecting their own experiences but it still feels exhausting. Transmascs get accused of derailing conversations all the time (even when we're not) but when our experiences are derailed it's just kind of ignored

She did apologize, so it is all good over here. Peace and love on earth and between trans fems and trans mascs. It's an honest mistake.

And no one harass her or I will find you and block you and possibly feed you to something like a crocodile. >:(

[toomanytookas]

A Fic Menu for Friendship!

My cherished @schnarfer. How wonderful that our little pieces of the internet intersected such that we could meet. It really does feel like I've known you always sometimes...

And how delightful it has been to be a bit of a garçon de cuisine in your kitchen as of late! Inspired by our convo about reclists as pairing menus, for the @swiftiscruff friendship exchange^ I've whipped up a very non-serious one (liberties absolutely taken with the genre) that is a riff on your masterlist and its wonderful contents. 🖤✨

For increased accessibility/given that tumblr can sometimes be weird with images, text of the menu with some formatting preserved is available below the cut! I haven't included links because they're all findable via Al's masterlist; see above!

^Thank you to Cat and Han for creating this event! It's been so lovely to see everyone's posts.

Cafe Schnarfer

Beautiful works handcrafted by head chef Al

Tonight's Menu

-First Courses-

If Wishes Came True (3.87k)

The newest dish on our menu. A perfect tasting platter of some of our chef’s specialties: sparkling love, a character you adore but want to give a firm talking to, and endings that make the angst feel incredibly worth it.

Recommended pairing A healthy slice of cake and a cola flavoured lollipop.

Difficult (12.03k)

The first dish developed for the restaurant! A must for those who enjoy notes of instant chemistry, a bit of self-destruction, a lot of Fleabag energy, and hopeful endings.

Recommended pairing A strawberry milkshake, whipped cream vodka optional* *strongly suggested to make things a little messy, just don’t accidentally give it to the kids

-Entremet-

Purple Haze (5k)

An opportunity to take a brief break from our menu's angsty notes to indulge in a heady, vintage-styled treat. This isn’t your average op-shop find, we’re talking high-end fashion, baby!

Recommended pairing A couple of gin bucks should do the trick. Or just the ginger ale if you’re not in the mood for a buzz!

-Second Courses-

Go Your Own Way (10.87k)

A dish close to the hearts of our whole kitchen. A perfect selection for those who have fallen for a fuckboy and find it therapeutic to recognise your past in a wonderfully raunchy but still angsty story. The finish of this dish manages to incorporate senses of both sadness and hopefulness, making for a cathartic aftertaste.

Recommended pairing A warming Mexican hot chocolate. You'll appreciate how it matches the spice and provides you with some added comfort when things get achy.

Endurance (15.11k)

You will never forget the first time you experience this dish and will always find a way to convince yourself that you aren’t boring for ordering it time after time. A slice of spiciness coupled with a heavy dash of the forbidden add immense depth to a texturally rich feast full of historical flavour.

Recommended pairing A U.S. Army-issued chocolate bar and maybe a prairie oyster for the vibes. But then make sure to treat yourself to some actually  nice-tasting chocolate.

-Dessert-

The Kit Kat Trilogy (16.25k)

The dessert you’ll think about for 10 years and then come back for more. Save room because it is full of delicious angst and delightful romance that you won’t be able to help but consume whole. On a day when you’re low on time, you’ll consider stopping by for just another taste of this memorable sweet treat, we guarantee it.

Recommended pairing A full roast dinner. Even if it’s just for yourself. And maybe a glass of champagne to throw at the wall when things get angsty for a sec.

-Digestifs-

Dial Drunk (7.70k)

Let’s celebrate the end of our meal with lots of hope that emerges from some long-endured darkness.

Recommended pairing The loveliest hot breakfast you could possibly make, full of all your favourites and with plenty of food to go round.

Illicit Affairs (7.47k)

Let’s derail the end our meal with a real hot mess. Maybe you’ll wish you had picked the sweeter option, but, damn, you’ll enjoy the deeply achy ride.

Recommended pairing Wrap yourself in a blanket warm from the dryer for this one. And maybe have some water? The lack of flavour will be a good break from the intensity of it all while still keeping you hydrated.

I love you, Al! 🖤😘

[merbear25]

The image of us (Yandere! Caesar)

You just wanted to connect with people. The interests that you couldn't really share with anyone in real life kept you feeling locked up within your own mind. An online community - your online community - was a type of safe haven, but even through all of the comradery, you’d unknowingly put a target on yourself. 

a/n: I'm crazy about him in the least healthy was possible.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, Modern AU, Yandere themes (parasocial relationship, stalking, manipulating into sex, threats to reader’s personal safety), vaginal penetration, filmed sex, rough sex

The seemingly endless support came through the chat the longer you streamed—generous amounts of donations, albeit sporadic, were never left unthanked or unappreciated. Such support only encouraged you to spend more time online—glued to your screen whether it was on the streaming platform or your blog. The constant influx of acceptance was what kept you afloat.

Streaming a playthrough called the most attention to your rising online presence, yet your heart laid with your blog. Despite the outgoing appearance you kept up on camera, deep down you craved a bit of solitude. Allowing yourself to sit comfortably behind your blog, answer questions at your own pace, write your analyses on your favorite characters, shows, and whatever sparked your interest created an environment which was less pressurized.

You were tossing around the idea of cross promotion. Thinking that the increase, potentially even a spike, in numbers would open the floodgates of donations. Admittedly, the attention, no matter how surface level, brought a smile to your face. Even if that joy was skin deep, it was intoxicating to an extent—leaving you wanting, needing more and more. However, the sense of privacy you wanted to maintain was just barely keeping you from biting the bullet.

The viewers, your followers, were secured behind a screen regardless of what platform you showcased yourself on. Letting your personality run more freely through your posts, you frequently engaged with ask games which granted your followers a better opportunity to get to know you.

“Hiiiiii!! 4 please!” A fun, light-hearted question sent straight to your inbox. 

Nothing that required much thought. “I’m a sucker for romance movies. Such a hopeless romantic and love the idea of being swept off my feet.” As you posted your response, glimmers of finding that special someone phased in and out.

The hours passed before you realized—cuing you up to start your evening stream. As the viewers came pouring in, commenting on your gameplay, and scattering donations, the attention never failed to give you a confidence boost.

Putting on a pretty face for the camera sometimes meant giving them a version of yourself that you weren’t even sure was real. You found purpose in it nonetheless.

“What was the last movie you watched?” Chimed in with the jingle you’d assigned to text to speech.

An easy answer. “Airplane! It’s an oldie but a goldie.” With the comments coming, some saying how much they love that movie and others stating that the humor doesn’t hold up, you kept your reactions light-hearted—humorous even.

“No romance movie?” The next one came in from the same user. That question seemed just a bit specific, but you rationalized that to paranoia trying to best you. 

Not allowing it to derail the conversation you were having with the rest of the chat, a nonchalant ‘Nah, not recently’ came out.

With the stream coming to an end, the chat flooded with goodbyes and see you next stream. When you signed off with a bright smile on your face, as soon as you signed off and covered the web camera, the high began dwindling.

There was a certain rush you felt when you were on camera, one that no post you made could ever compete with.

Unwinding after a soothing bath, you flipped on 50 First Dates and mouthed your favorite parts just like you did the night before. You’d slipped into a deep sleep before it ended, missing the ping on your phone.

—------------------------------------------------

“If you’re still doing it, can I ask number 12?”

You blinked at it, thinking that you didn’t exactly have a routine. The one you did have heavily involved your streams. You noted the things that were consistent: getting a coffee, cooking for yourself, home exercises.

Later that day you posted a photo of your regular order while at your favorite cafe—a dash of cinnamon sprinkled on top to stand it apart from other lattes.

Faint hissing had you looking around the coffeeshop. No one else seemed to notice the sounds, though, and they faded shortly after.

With two hours until streaming, your journey home didn’t take you long. Scrolling through your feed, a notification popped up in your inbox. The faint hissing returned as you read:

“What’s your favorite coffee place?”

The question went unanswered.

That same happy-go-lucky smile was painted on once the camera started rolling.

It must have been a coincidence. Even so, that coincidence was still sending a shiver down your spine hours later.

The night was still young, but you couldn’t really be bothered staying up with your thoughts. You called in early, that same noise from earlier visited you, drifting in and out.

—------------------------------------------------

Your head still needed clearing, even after a restful night. The cool breeze and morning sun aided your jog. Passing through the streets, your tunnel vision attempted to block out the world around you. 

Turning a corner, you accidentally bumped into a man. Fumbling an apology, you instinctively checked if he was okay.

The glare he held could’ve burned a hole right through your core, but after those piercing gold eyes scanned your face, his scowl softened. 

After a faint huff, his demeanor did a 180. “Don’t worry about it! Accidents happen.” 

His eyes ran over your body, soaking in each finite detail etched into you. A shiver ran down your spine the longer your eyes lingered on his. With such unique features, you couldn’t help but find a certain appeal to him.

A sly grin slowly stretched across his face, breaking the trance you were caught in. Before you scampered off, he took a risk in asking, “Can I give you my number?”

Rising heat prickled your cheeks. You nodded and whipped out your phone, watching his long fingers linger on the screen.

“I look forward to hearing from you.” He flashed a charming smile before continuing on his way.

Flinging the door open to your apartment, you plopped on your bed, eyeing the new contact ‘Caesar’ in your phone. Not wanting to come off as desperate, you took a couple hours to text him.

Rewriting that first message, the overthinking of each word and tone they could display was putting more pressure on you than necessary. 

“Hey, it’s the klutz from earlier!” You took a deep breath and sent it. Twiddling your thumbs as you waited for a response, you worried if the quirky way of referring to yourself wasn’t at all funny or cute.

With the buzzing signaling a response, the backlight illuminated the relief on your face.

—------------------------------------------------

Each message sent then after felt easy—hitting it off like this was surreal. You had never really gotten along with someone so well so quickly, nearly effortlessly. 

The days following your first encounter helped nurture your feelings for him. Attentive, charming, the way he expressed interest in you: how could you not want to explore your relationship with him? 

You put your heart on the line and invited him out on a date. “A woman who isn’t afraid to take charge. I like that about you.”

With a select few to share your excitement with, you popped by to see your friend who lived in the area. You both spent time gossiping, drinking a bit, and catching up. Seeing as you had waited a while to get back into the dating scene, she wanted to know all about the guy you were talking to, which you gladly informed her on.

The sun had long since set, signaling for you to head home. With the walk being much too far to take alone in the dark, catching the bus at the stop a couple of streets over appeared to be your safest option.

The echoing of your heels clicking on the pavement created an emptiness within the crowded city. Soothing your rising stress, you shot a text over to Caesar, letting him know you were heading home as he’d requested.

Nearing the bus stop, you jumped from the sound of metal falling. Peering down the alley, you thought it best not to investigate, instead hurrying forward. Rushing past the townhouses as fast as you could, you told yourself the bright streetlamp the bus stop sat under would offer a sense of security.

With the flood lights out front being set off by you, each house drew more attention to the woman who was alone and defenseless. Looking over your shoulder in hopes that you’d be met with nothing but the city, the backyard flood lights from the third house behind you went off. Slowing your pace at first, when the next bulb from the back flickered on, panic clouded your mind.

You thought it might be better to try running, but due to your heels, you wouldn’t be able to outrun whomever was following you.

When that familiar hiss crept in, you fumbled with your phone to call your friend. As it rang, the hissing grew louder and the lights from the houses you’d rushed past barreled towards you. The wind was picking up, swirling around your feet and tangling your hair.

You refused to face what was coming for you, fearing that what you would see would be your last. 

“Hello?”

A final gale wind forced over you, taking your breath with it momentarily

“Hello, (y/n), are you there? Is everything okay?”

“C-can you just stay on the phone with me until I get home?”

—------------------------------------------------

“Hey, have you arrived home yet?”

“Did you make it home safely?”

The repeated pings stirred you awake, but the ringing gave you more of a reason to give this person attention.

Giving them a groggy ‘Hello?’, you rubbed your eyes as Caesar expressed his concerns.

“You didn’t tell me when you got home. I was worried something happened to you.”

“Sorry, I…something weird happened and I was too shaken up to remember.”

The silence felt tense. “Were you hurt?”

“No! Nothing happened. I was just spooked by the wind, essentially.”

He chuckled after a moment, the subtle drumming of his fingers on the table were barely audible. “Good to know. Sleep well, darling.”

When he hung up, you were left with your own thoughts—wondering if that final sound was a hiss.

—------------------------------------------------

“You look trusting.”

That statement had been sitting in your inbox for a couple of hours. You weren’t sure whether it would be better to ignore it or to keep the response short. After all, you had no idea who these people were and were nervous that you would make others feel singled out.

“Oh? Is that a good thing or bad thing? haha!” The tone was intended to be comical. However, the follow-up drained any humor from the situation. 

“It depends on the other person. ;)”

Shaking off this comment was proving to be difficult. You only had a few hours before your scheduled stream and needed a way to cool off. On a whim, you reached out to Caesar, thinking that talking to him would take your mind off of things.

“Are you free to meet up? Maybe for a quick coffee or something?”

As you passed by the tall windows, your attention was easily drawn to the tall slender man waiting for you.

The warmth in his smile when he noticed you put your nerves to rest. He got up to greet you, not expecting the hug you gave him. “Well, hello to you too,” his tone was light and airy.

“Sorry, that was a bit forward.” You backed off from the slight awkwardness you’d caused..

He waved off your apology, viewing it as unneeded. “So, tell me. What’s been making you so jittery lately, hm?”

His question tickled the back of your throat, letting the word vomit of your most recent fears spew.

Each situation you described only painted you as paranoid, each fear made you come across as weak, and each inner turmoil you were experiencing gave him reason to abandon you, all of which were suspicions caused by your own insecurities.

He placed his hand on yours, gently rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand. “From an outsider’s perspective, it would seem that your imagination is getting the best of you.” Cocking his head slightly to meet your fallen gaze, when your eyes met his, he gave you a reassuring smile.

You wondered just how pathetic you must sound. “I’m sorry. I probably sound crazy.” Burying your face in your hands, the heat building in your chest rose as you heard him laugh.

“No, not at all.” Even without looking at him, you could feel his eyes on every part of you. “Tell you what. Why don’t I swing by your place tonight? I could keep you company, take your mind off of all those spooky things.”

The two of you hadn’t known each other for that long - only a few weeks, not even a month yet, and he was suggesting that you potentially spend the night together?

You cleared your throat in an attempt to push down your timid nature. “Yeah, we—you could come by.”

Grinning at you with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, he lightly slapped his hand on the table. “Excellent! We’ll have fun, I promise.” He winked before checking the time. “Oh! Five o’clock already. Where does the time go?”

You poorly concealed your panic. “I have to go. I’m sorry, I’ll call you when I’m ready for you to come over.”

“I look forward to it.” 

Your shyness was more attractive than you gave yourself credit for. With you tucking your loose hair behind your ear, your bashful nod paired well with his confidence. He chuckled as you clumsily ran out the door, watching you until you disappeared down the street.

You were running short on time before the stream was supposed to start, so you didn’t have time to glance at the question that popped up in your inbox. There were three more pings before you silenced it.

You maintained your natural presence in front of the camera: smiling, friendly, open.

“How often do you check your phone?” A text to speech came through.

“I mean, I check it whenever I can, but obviously when I’m streaming, I don’t unless it’s an emergency.”

A few minutes passed.

“So are you ignoring my earlier question?” Came through and read as aggressive.

“What do you mean? I haven’t received any other questions here. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Check your phone.” As the chat started going wild, asking what exactly was happening and wanting to know what was on your phone, you felt yourself buckling under pressure.

You turned the lock screen on. There were more than thirty messages sent to your inbox. Scrolling through them, they were all asking the same question: “Do you feel safe where you live?”

“So, are you going to answer my question?”

In spite of the chat demanding your attention, you felt like you had no other choice—you had to end the stream. “Sorry, guys!” Your mask of positivity wasn’t as convincing as you thought it was, “I have to end the stream early! I forgot I had something planned. Um, yeah, sorry.”

You ran to your windows to ensure they were locked and then pulled the blinds over them. Dialing his number, you practically begged Caesar to come over as soon as possible.

You gave him the address and informed him to text you when he was there, so that you could buzz him in because the intercom wasn’t working properly. 

Pacing back and forth, you peaked out your windows every now and then to keep tabs on any suspicious people.

When a knock came at the door, you ran to open it. “You got here fast,” you breathed.

“I was already in the area.” You stepped aside to welcome him in.

He took a look around your place, nodding at certain things and raising his eyebrows at others. Turning back to face you, your disheveled appearance left little else to discuss. “You’re looking…worse than earlier. What happened?” 

“I’ve been getting just these creepy fucking messages flooding my inbox.” ‘Creepy? How so?” He wandered over to your windows.

“I mean, look for yourself.” You put your phone in his hands and intently watched his expression as he scrolled through them.

“Wow…”

“Yeah, it’s really… God, I feel like I’m being watched.” You rubbed the sides of your arms in a failed attempt at self-soothing.

“Hey, hey,” he came to your side to comfort you. “Don’t freak yourself out. I’m here now so if anyone dares try anything, they’ll have to get through me first.” You melted in his arms as the condolence washed over you.

“Why don’t we make ourselves comfortable on the sofa and watch any movie of your choice.”

“That sounds lovely,” you hummed.

“Yeah?” He cooed at you, stroking your cheek with his thumb. As you nodded and fluttered your eyes at him, he resisted the urge to take you right there and then.

“Can we watch 50 First Dates? It’s my favorite.” You held a sense of embarrassment in your request.

“Of course, darling.”

Making sure you were comfortable with enough blankets, he plopped down next to you, lazily slinging his arm over the top of the sofa. You took that as an invitation to scoot closer to him.

Mouthing each quote you mesmerized from your favorite scenes, you were so lost in the story that you didn’t even notice Caesar’s subtle smile as he admired you. 

“You’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?” A question hinting at the amount of affection he had for you.

“I just love love.”

His laugh was louder than usual. “That’s a very cute sentiment.”

Although the humor he saw in it stung a bit, you chose not to make a big deal out of it.

“By the way, what’s your answer to that question?”

That came out of the blue and caught you off guard. “What question?”

“The one that was spammed to you.” He side eyed you as you processed the situation. As that moment lingered between the two of you growing strained from the impatience he held, that dreadful hissing noise faded into the room.

The rise and fall of your chest indicated your rising stress. Your eyes darted around his face, realizing that you were sitting next to a stranger.  “How did you know which apartment is mine?”

“What kind of question is that? You gave me the address.”

“But I didn’t give you the apartment number.”

A long agitated sigh left him. “So I take it that you don’t feel safe here?”

Your instinct took over when he took his arm off you and leaned down to get the remote. Before your body had barely lifted off the cushion, he had you pinned to him. Your shrill shriek from his tight grip was followed by him shushing you.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Just don’t scream and you’ll be okay.” His arms were wrapped tightly around you. He stroked your hair and rested his cheek on the top of your head, tenderly kissing it periodically.

“You’ve always been my favorite, you know. The others… they just ended up not being who I thought they were.”

“What did you do to them?” Regret replaced curiosity as soon as you asked.

“You won’t have to find out, so long as you’re honest.” He could feel your rapid pulse as his fingers traced your neck. “You’ll be fine, darling.” He placed a firm kiss on your temple. “None of the others made it this far.” He murmured against the side of your face, “You’re so perfect.”

Tears had been building up in the corners of your eyes and were streaming down your cheeks. “What do you want?” Shaky and vulnerable: you were delectable.

“To be with you, you silly thing!” As he pulled you closer against him, you were too afraid to resist. “I’ve been following you for quite a while now, on both of your platforms. That sweet face beaming for the camera and that more tender side you showed on your blog, you had my heart from the get go.”

His hands roamed over your legs, favoring the fat on your inner thighs. When you trembled and your breath hitched, he trailed kisses along the back of your neck. “I know how lonely you are, my dear, because I know that pain all too well. You spend every moment online, barely going outside. It’s not healthy, especially for someone who’s so in love with love.”

He took your silence as a sign to continue pushing you. “Let me love you,” he groaned as his hands traveled further up your thighs, feeling the heat between them. “Don’t disappoint me now, not after making it this far.”

The ominous tone blanketed you. “I won’t.”

Tasting your tears as he pressed his lips against your cheek, his voice was thick with need. “Good girl.” His fingers found their way to your clit with ease, having you squirming in his arms. “Such a good little thing, aren’t you?” He nipped at your earlobe and licked the shell of your ear.

Shockwaves coursed through your core, earning him a few gasps and regrettable moans from you. Your nails dug into his thighs as he grinded against you. Running his fingers over the wet patch shamelessly pooling in your cotton panties, his eyes rolled back at his realization.

“It’s been a while since someone touched you, hasn’t it?”

He smiled against your neck as you squeaked out a yes. Sinking his teeth into your shoulder, he was quick to lather the sore spot with his tongue to soothe the pain.

As he tugged your panties aside and relished in the silky warmth he’d been dreaming of, he nipped at your neck, sucking at the markings that were sure to leave bruises.

While you writhed against him, he matched your motions with his hips. Pressing himself against you, allowing you to feel just how desperate he was for you was causing him to pant from his insatiable lust.

“I need you. I need you right now.” He growled in a nearly threatening manner.

The faintest compliance you showed had him sweeping you up in his arms and carrying you off to your bedroom. He put you down in front of your gaming chair and ordered you climb on.

You began to derobe, but he pushed your hands away. “Just get on the chair.”

Sounds of him fumbling with your equipment got your attention. “W-wait, no, what are you doing?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to stream us. Just going to record. Besides, you seem like you really enjoy putting on a show for the camera.” The cocky grin he wore exuded the assurance he held in his depiction of you.

Your skirt wasn’t leaving anything to the imagination in this position. Gripping your hips, he groaned seeing how much your pussy was eating your underwear—completely soaking them.

Blind siding yourself to what was happening behind you, all you heard was the swift stripping of his belt and pants.

Teasing your entrance, the longing for this moment was beading at his tip, “Are you ready for me?”

“Y-yes,” your nerves made your confidence in coming out of this in one piece falter.

He started off slow, savoring how you felt around him. The more he pushed into you, however, the more it felt like he was forcing himself.

“T-too deep. You’re too deep!”

“Shhh, just relax, my pet.” As your walls spasmed around him, he began steadily pumping in and out of you. “That’s right. Just like that.”

Each of your moans fueled the fantasy he had of you, encouraging him to push you past your limits. He tangled his fingers in your hair as he leaned down—his breath hot against your ear. “You’re just how I imagined.”

With that he tugged your hair, forcing you to arch your back. Granting himself more dominance over you, he pushed further by wrapping his other hand around your throat and squeezing lightly.

He angled your face towards the webcam. “Look at how gorgeous you are when I fuck you.” Watching the screen with you, he couldn’t have missed the way your eyes rolled back. Witnessing the sheer euphoria wrecking your body, his own climax was just within reach.

Your strangled cries and gasps, the way your body trembled and quaked, feeling your tears fall onto his hand: he couldn’t hold back much longer. 

His voice was husky and thick with his fast approaching peak of ecstasy, “Scream my name. I want to cum to your voice raw from screaming my name.”

You cried out for him, pleading for him to cum. Your screams resembled choked sobs as you felt him tensing up.

With a final thrust, he streamed a rope of hot cum into you, coating your walls entirely with his obsession for you. Letting you out of his grip, you collapsed on the chair. While he leaned back on your desk, he basked in the sight of you dripping with his seed.

He ran his hand over your hip, making you quake and whimper. “Still so sensitive,” he grinned at the display of power he had over you.

“Don’t worry, my pet, I’m far from done showing you how much I love you.”