#let the castration begin or GET ME OUT OF HERE

[mangio-formaggio]

spuffy in s4 are actually so special to me. the petty jealousy in The Harsh Light Of The Day, borderlinling with weird familiarity of knowing about each other's previous lovers, the raw playful necessity to poke fingers in open wounds. and then reluctant compromising in Pangs, bruised egos have been shoved aside, cause okay it's the truce and we done it like one and half time before. what the worst can happen? and then it's the beginning of Something Blue and they've been in a close proximity and at each other's throats longer than ever before. but the spell hits and oh, we gonna keep arguing actually. we gonna keep bringing up our exes and making fun at each other's names. no pink glasses here, actually. but also what if we suck faces a little and that will successfully end any conflict we face during that night? what if all that cravings of a good fight is in our tongues now? wouldn't that be a good alternative to punches and kickings? what if nothing changes except hate is love and violence is sex? wait, the spell is over? yeah it wasn't nice at all. not like we both ever thought it could possibly be nice. oh, a cookie.

and then they're trying so hard not show that things changed for the rest of the season, just to fail miserably. he's always in the corner of the room with the rest of the group, rarely talks to her personally as if cautious, but is marginally pulling her hair with words as much as he can. my nemesis wants to stake himself? idk go ahead, babe. not so much keen to do the job myself, I guess. so my nemesis won't come to see me move into a new cool crypt? rude. Giles needs help in New Man , Spike will help, but never crosses paths with Buffy who's actively seeking Giles at the same time. Anya brings Spike to a party, Buffy is trapped in an endless sex dream upstairs. oh well, he wants to help her? oh wait, he doesn't care. really, he doesn't. he's just being a little shit, look at him not caring like a pro, laughing off a nobility nobody believes in a first place. he meets Buffy at the club and she acts horny and provocative. weird I guess, but actually that what she always does, isn't she just a sodding tease? someday, we gonna have a confrontation. the Jonathan's spell covered the town, but those two worsties will be totally normal about each other. his hands in her hair, on her cheek, her chest. she will allow it. maybe lean to it a little. something is deeply wrong with the world tonight, so glad to let you know that we still gonna have a confrontation one day. a comfronting thought. a sensual grounding touch of an enemy. he can't fucking wait. will make an alliance with a psychotic Frankenstein monster build by a military organization that castrated him. the world (that he actually quite likes) can burn, but he will get the chip out of his head and kick Buffy's ass. maybe she will ride him till she breaks him at first. it's negotiable. meanwhile Buffy looks at his traitorous face and once again chooses not to stake him. cause whatever. it's just Spike. his plans never works. not on her. not like he caused a lot of damage, more like provoked a friend group therapy session. not like he put his heart into this scheme. he can annoy her a little longer. she got used to it anyways.

they start season with The Harsh Light Of The Day and by the end of it, in a harsh light of the day, in front of other people, they're kids at the playground. but whenever they're in shadows, more or less alone, they're two tigers circling around each other, knowing now that they both too unpredictable for the fight not take some truly wild turns.

[fairestbeard]

THE BEAR IS A DIRTY MOVIE:

Pt 1: Carmy vs Ball Breaker.

Despite all protests of it "not being that kind of show", The Bear is preoccupied with sex. By The Bear, I mean, the show itself is preoccupied with sex and so inadvertently its protagonists are. And why not? So much of our working world is consciously or unconsciously shaped by sex. Let's be real, the only reason you and I are here in the first place is because of sex- even if you are a test tube baby, you're still here because of sex- and it's failures thereof.

So The Bear has sex on it's mind. It doesn't spell it out in bold letters but it doesn't hide it either and there's no part that does this as loudly as season 1. Using symbolism, there are several filters you could put on this show to create new meanings and interpretations in a gift that keeps on giving and viewing it with a sexual filter makes it even more interesting.

*In Kdots voice*

Storer is a sick man

With sick thoughts...

Because The Bear season one IS dirty! It's filthy!

In the best possible way!

Ball Breaker

It is quickly established at the beginning of the pilot that the goings-on of the BB machine is of no small irritation to Carmy. It is the first thing that gets him to snap to the point of him considering pulling the plug (pun intended). Tina is there to warn him that "if you unplug it, it won't work again" with Carmy protesting he knows how it works.

After watching season 1 and this opening a gazillion times, I'm throwing out the theory that BB is a part of or a mirroring of Carmy's subconscious mind, kind of like intrusive thoughts that he finds uncomfortable but can't do away with anyhow. And Carmy might be, quite unfortunately (for him, not me), unintentionally porn brained.

First, the way BB is designed. It is supposed to be a "Norwegian knockoff of Mortal Kombat".

Why Norwegian, though?

Norway is a Scandinavian country known for having a very relaxed sex culture. Their culture allows and even encourages casual sex, so it's no wonder that a game coming from them will display so much raunchiness. Mortal Kombat is a fighting game and so is BB. With MK, it's blood and gore-ish images, while BB is wrought with the most hilariously insane lewd images- from a dirty map of America, player avatars with BBL butts, penises and balls name ribbons, scrotum faces, players transported in semen, etc.

BB highlights Carmy's struggle as sex starved, sexually repressed and frustrated young man. He wants to pull the plug- he'd rather kill those tendencies (some kind of castration) than have to deal with it. After Tina warns him about not unplugging BB, it shows an image of a player castrating another with the castrated player covering his genitals; in pop culture, the infamous "cock shame" reference. The machine says "boneless" to that. Carmy realises the machine might be backed up with coins and needs to be emptied, "Cream pie", BB interjects.

Cream pie= slang for ejaculating in a woman's vagina.

Even the way the scene plays out with Carmy hovering over the machine while it ejaculates coins is very sexually suggestive.

After this he tries to trade the coins with Chichi for some meat along with some vintage denim, Chichi says "what am I, a Coinstar?" Coinstar is a kiosk that trades coins but this is also a play on the word "pornstar". Ironically, what Chichi is doing in that moment is selling (his) meat. If you know you know.

You could also interprete that scene as a metaphor for sex or how Carmy's sex life will play out. The coins (representing sex) and other random offerings couldn't seal the deal, and only when Carmy offers Mickey's jacket (something of sentimental value) does the deal go through. So sex for the sake of sex will never be enough, at least for Carmy.

A manifestation of Carmy's psyche.

It's very interesting to note that Carmy is the only one bothered by BB. The machine is literally the loudest when Carmy is there, making rude and lewd interjections. Other people in the restaurant don't seem to notice or even mind it and it's mostly just background noise, whereas with Carmy it's driving him to insanity.

For contrast, in season 2, we see how calm Carmy is with the crawl space alarm going off. He doesn't need earplugs like Syd and Nat, he says to Cicero that he doesn't mind it even though the sound is driving everyone mad, including us viewers. He also initially thinks it's something in his head, pointing to the chaos always going on in his head.

Our introduction to BB at the opening sequence in the pilot of The Bear is also interesting. Notice where the BB sound plays and where it stops. We see it loudly mixed up with the opening music while he seems to be going through it, trying to find his footing for the day. Then when he takes a breather before meeting Syd, everything stops!

But, does it?

The only time BB is actually completely silent in that opening is when Carmy calls Nat. At that point, nobody knows who she is to him. He refers to her as "sugar" which could be a romantic term. Naturally, the audience might assume it's a romantic partner until further clarified. BB initially starts to make some noise but a voice from the machine says "Ah!", as if to halt them. Then it is completely silent while Carmy speaks with Nat. Then when Sydney walks in the sound resumes more quietly and we can here the BB theme playing in the background while they are introduced to each other.

Carmy's personal troll

Ball Breaker acts as Carmy's personal troll, mirroring his unconscious, commenting and antagonizing him about his mental state and sexual frustrations. We see that displayed in several instances.

In "System", apart from the "boneless" and "creampie" incident, we see BB describe the blood stain where Carmy had cut himself as a "cum stain".

In "Hands", the machine chooses the most unfortunate time to start skipping (mirroring Carmy's anger and irritation against Richie) causing him to lose his temper and lash out at Neil Fak to "fix it!".

In "Brigade", during the introduction to the brigade system, there's is an image of penis right behind Carmy as he tells them he isn't trying to be an asshole and mess up their system. The machine says "fuck you", because, of course he's bullshitting. He is upending the existing system for better or worse. When he introduces the new system, the french brigade, BB says "french press!"

French press literal meaning is a coffee maker, but it is also a slang for a sex position:

(The french press is also strictly an anal position not vaginal).

Now, in the french brigade system, the hierarchy puts Sydney directly under Carmy. Talk about suggestive!

Also if we want to go there (optional) with the BB psyche theory, this might be suggestive that a fully realized sexual Carmy would be anything but a vanilla kind of guy. Infact, he might be into or open to some kink.

Then, when Richie comes in and dumps all over Carmy's french brigade idea, BB says "cock blocked".

BB also shows the penis sketch when Syd takes over the meeting with a message "poot tutor available", which also a plays on the idea of anal sex:

Now this one kinda broke my brain a little bit and I might need to circle back to it in a different meta.

Fak and Ball Breaker

(sidebar: Didn't want to make this a subject on it's own but the whole BB fiasco also kind of takes a dig at gaming culture as a whole, with Fak being styled like your typical basement dwelling gamer bro)

Ball Breaker makes Carmy crazy. But he needs it so he calls Fak to fix it. As the designated handyman of the restaurant, Fak is always the one fixing the machine and spends a lot of time with it.

Fak's relationship with BB is so interesting because not only does he claim (and can) to know the inner workings of the machine, he displays an actual relationship with it. There is a scene where Fak directly speaks to BB and it responds back, suggesting that BB is not just a machine, it is actually sentient.

If you consider the concept of sex, it can be considered a machinery because it involves a set of objective rules and mechanisms to work and it is also a cog in the machine of life. But it is also sentient, in that, it is subjectively affected by certain conditions; physical, mental, emotional, psychological, socio-political, etc.

Fak is also shown to have inherited the BB machine, kissing it while taking it home and saying to it "your home is my home". So it is very interesting indeed that Fak has a major hand in how Carmy's sex and love life goes in season 2 and beyond, especially with the theory out there that Fak is living vicariously through Carmy.

_________________

One genius aspect of The Bear is how they use entwining metaphors through out the show. In other words, one thing might be a metaphor for something that is a metaphor for something else, making it possible for the show go just anywhere or even nowhere.

Using Ball Breaker as a tool to make a statement about the innate human nature as sexual beings is both loud and understated. It's the closest thing to just having porn playing in the background while making sure to not take away from the main storyline.

And it's funny as fuck!

[tidbit-fanfic]

A/N: WOW did this take forever. Did you think I’d honestly leave Forever & Always as it was? Here’s your fix-it-fic, part two to Forever & Always, but of course you don’t have to read this if you don’t want to fix things. That’s fine.

TW: 18+ Smut, protected sex (wrap your willy silly), car sex, blood, cannon level violence, angsty angst, the l-word, Micheal, mention of castration, spanking, makeup/angry sex?, fluffy fluff

No one ever said breakups were easy. Months passed before I could even look Dean in the eye again, and more passed until we returned to how we were before the relationship had ever happened. We formed a close bond and worked together on case after case. I accompanied Castiel and Kelly when the Winchesters were arrested, and I became a major support during Kelly’s pregnancy, within the limits set by Cas. When they busted out to raise more hell? I was there to help clean up after them. 

Things became rocky when Dean began lashing out towards Jack. I slammed my fist into his jaw one time. I don’t regret it, and I don’t think I ever will. He left in a huff after, ignoring me, as Sam and I tried to make sense of everything. A whirlwind of catastrophic events later, Dean stepped forward, doing the one thing he promised he never would: let Micheal in. 

“Anyone find anything?” 

“Sam, we’ve been searching for weeks, and every time you ask that question, what’s the answer?”

The younger Winchester pushes his hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving his lungs. “Just hoping for something.”

“I know. You miss him, but we’re working overtime to scrounge up anything on him. Have you even slept in the past twenty-four hours?” I stand from the rickety chair I’d been sitting in for the past hour, looking into Sam’s eyes. His face quickly switched to one of guilt, a shy, school-boyish look taking over his features. My hands found their place on my hips, taking on a motherly stance. “Go. Sleep. Now.”

“But—”

“Now, Samuel.” He runs off to his room to get some sleep, hopefully. I turn back to my small team of five people. They all shake their heads, a couple returning their eyes to the screen sitting before them. With no sign of Dean, Sam and Mary have become overly stressed, constantly checking in on any form of a lead. Meanwhile, Jack and Cas are out doing their own little thing, leaving me to manage this small team, checking sources daily. Micheal must be covering his tracks extremely well because our facial scanners have reported back nothing about Dean, or any unnatural glitching. 

I walk my way into the kitchen, searching for a distraction. These past few weeks, I organized and reorganized the kitchen at least three times. It’s become my solitude after losing Dean yet again. I pulled out some ingredients and began cooking dinner for everyone in the bunker, hoping that by keeping my hands busy, I could distract my mind. 

“So, you’re going to follow this lead alone?” I cross my arms, narrowed eyes sizing up the Winchester standing in front of me, resulting in Sam shaking his head.

“I’m meeting up with mom and Bobby on the way.”

“Fine,” I say, pushing off of the table, watching as he goes to turn. “And Sam?”

“Yes?”

“Bring him back.”

Sam looks at me, a hint of remorse playing in his eyes. He goes to open his mouth before I wave him off, making my way to Jack’s room. I raise my hand and knock, waiting for Jack’s response. The door creaks as I open it, revealing the young male who has been living with us for some time. 

“Hey, buddy. How’s it going?”

“I mean, better now. Cas is finally beginning to see that I can help on hunts.”

I nod, sitting at the foot of his bed. “Did Sam tell you…”

“He did.” 

“Oh,” I state, racking my brain for ways to keep the conversation flowing when the blonde pipes up.

“You still care for him. Don’t you?”

My eyes snap up to Jack’s. “Jack. It’s difficult.”

“It’s not though. You should tell him when he’s back.”

“I can’t do that, he’s…it's…complicated.”

The male tilts his head, eyes searching my face for an explanation. I sigh, “I, well, he was the one who messed up, and I just took it. I accepted he didn’t like me enough to work through it. Then I fell apart, Jack, and I can’t live through that again.” 

“Is that truly how you feel?”

“There is no other way. We can’t, he can’t change what he did. I can’t forgive him for making me a second choice.”

Jack reached forward, resting a hand on mine, the other to wipe away the tears that fell. “But you still love him.”

“Yes,” I whisper. “But I can’t have him.”

“Y/N, I know I may not have been on this earth for long, but I’ve seen enough to say this: if you love him, give Dean a second chance. You never know how things might go this time around.”

I stand, wiping my face. “No Jack, I can’t” 

I leave his room, returning to the main part of the bunker, not before grabbing a glass of alcohol to numb the pain. I join the research team in the library, sitting in one of the few comfy chairs while Jack’s words echo through my head. “Give him a second chance. You never know how things might go this time around.”

 Heavy footsteps resonate through the bunker, Cas re-entering from Jack’s room, a look of shock crossing his features. “Dean?”

I watch as Cas wraps Dean into a hug, setting my glass on a nearby table as Dean’s voice rings out. “Hey, Cas.”

One of the few extra hunters walks up to Sam, running him through the information we collected since his departure. Meanwhile, Dean looks around at all the new bodies occupying the bunker. I turn my head away, beginning to make my way towards my room to avoid interaction with him, but it seems as if fate has other plans, with one of my subordinates stepping into my field of vision. “Cap? We have a couple of updates on that nest you asked about?”

“Show me what you have.” I look down at the tablet, littered with pins displaying the nest’s pattern of migration. I listen as they explain the situation, ignoring the presence creeping in from behind me. 

“Okay, send out a small group, maybe five? Check in with Sam to get it approved and run a couple of facial scans to ensure that they are where you’re predicting. Good work.”

“On it Captain.” 

“Captain? That’s an interesting nickname.” Jumping at the rough voice, I turn to meet a pair of forest green eyes I used to call home. I look him up and down, taking in the state of him, and maybe, just maybe, appreciating the archangel’s fashion taste, paired with Dean’s attempt at making it comfortable. As I meet his eyes, I can't help but force a smile, refusing to reveal my emotions.

“Dean! It’s so great to see you in one piece. Sam had us searching everywhere for you.”

“Sam did? It wasn’t you?” 

“He was driving himself sick.”

He nods, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “Look, Y/N, I know we—”

“Captain?” Another voice cuts through his sentence, and I turn to see Charlie holding out a tablet, nodding to Dean before redirecting her attention to me. 

“The reports you wanted just came back. Our predictions were right. Ketch’s team is nearby, just a couple of miles down the way. We’re sending them the info on the nest right now.” 

“Thank you, Charlie. And it’s really great to see you back, Dean. Especially in one piece.” I turn, heading back to my room, this time without interruptions. I close the door behind me, sliding down against it before rubbing my temples. Breakups aren’t easy, and living in the same space as your ex just makes it worse. 

The next morning, I’m up before everyone else, starting coffee and breakfast for the bunker. A sweaty Sam enters the kitchen, grabs a glass of water, and then presumably leaves to take a shower before the hustle of the bunker begins. I relax into the routine I’ve put myself into since Dean left, mundane tasks I easily get lost in. Breakfast is finished before I return to my room, a notification lighting up my phone’s screen from Sam. I flip my phone over, opting for a couple more hours of sleep before dealing with him. 

The sound of knocking wakes me up, as my door moves slightly with the action. I open it, coming face-to-face with Sam. Taking a step back, I rush to smooth down my hair while Sam lets out a low whistle. “And I thought my bedhead was bad.”

I throw a middle finger at him, glaring as he chuckles. “What do you want?”

“Just got a case in.” He walks in, taking a seat at my desk, opening his laptop to reveal a newspaper article. Man Reported Missing By Girlfriend: Claims A Giant Woman-Bird Took Him. 

“Are we sure she’s not just crazy?”

“Yes, multiple police reports of missing men in the area have a claim of ‘giant woman-birds’ taking them. Seems like an us problem.”

I look over his shoulder at the reports, showing drawn portraits of the attackers. “Jesus, those look like harpies. Tricky little buggers, but should be a ‌simple case. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready.”

“Good, see you then.”

Ten minutes later, I cross the threshold to the garage, eyes scanning it for the younger Winchester. The passenger side window of the Impala rolls down, revealing Dean, sitting in the driver’s seat. “C’mon, we don’t have all day. If Sam’s right about the feeding patterns, they’re gonna strike again tonight.” 

I look over my shoulder to the door of the garage. “Speaking of Sam, where is he? I thought it was just going to be us on this hunt?”

“Nope. Just me and you, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” I open the door, tossing my bag into the backseat before climbing in, staying as far away from Dean as possible. He grumbles something under his breath, throwing Baby into drive and leaving the bunker. This was going to be a long hunt. 

Blood hit my face as my knife sliced through a harpy’s wing. The creature let out a screech before turning to me, its teeth elongating as it prepared to attack. I raised an arm to push back when a gunshot rang through the air. She fell to the ground, revealing a blood-covered Dean standing behind her. I dropped my arm, huffing and kicking at the dead body of the woman. We had destroyed the nest,and all the harpies within it, leaving only one last step before we could head to a hotel and get cleaned up. I looked at Dean, whose eyes remained locked on me with worry. “You ready to burn these bitches?”

A smirk broke out on his face. “You know it.”

I giggled beneath my breath, grabbing a container of gasoline before returning to the building. I poured it on top of the bodies, as well as the makeshift nests, before returning to Baby. Dean pulled a zippo from his pocket, striking it before throwing it into the door. We both leaned back onto the vehicle, watching as the building went up in flames, the adrenaline slowly beginning to leave our systems. 

I turn, looking at the man beside me. While checking him over for any wounds, noticing his shoulder bleeding. Claw marks from where the harpy attempted to take him. I reach out, pulling the torn fabric from the wound for a closer look. “Crap, Dean, this looks like it hurts.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” He shrugs, tensing as my hands work over his wound. “First aid is in the backseat.”

I nod, going to get it, ready to be done with the hunt. “Alcohol incoming.”

After I ensure he won't get an infection, I thread a fishing line into place, starting the first stitch, causing a hiss to rip from his mouth. Stitch after stitch, I tend to the injury, patching over it with some hydrocolloid bandages before stepping back. 

My eyes flutter open, revealing unfamiliar scenery. Dean looks up from his phone. “All good. Just taking a pit stop. Showers are over there.”

“I thought we were going to a motel?” I rub my eyes, reaching over the seat for my bag. 

“I thought it’d be pretty stupid, considering we’re only five hours from home. I was just gonna clean up and nap a bit before finishing the drive.”

I nod leaving the Impala and making my way to the shower building, clutching my pocket knife in my right hand as a safety precaution. I knew Dean had parked in an area where he could see the entrance, but it never hurt to be a little extra cautious. I entered the station, locking myself into one stall and starting the shower. Peeling my crusty clothes from off, I rinsed them in the water, hoping to remove some of the blood. I climbed into the shower, scrubbing away the gore painted on my body. My mind wandered to our situation. 

I had slept in the Impala with Dean many times, mostly when the motel was out of vacancies, leaving us to find a station similar to this. Sam would stretch out in the backseat while I cuddled up to Dean, safe in his arms. Back when I trusted him with my life. Now, I can’t trust him as far as I could throw him. ‘Give him a second chance.’ If only it were that easy.

I return to the Impala, devoid of monster blood. Dean’s head was lolled back, resting against the seat. I knocked on the window before opening my door, ensuring he wouldn’t shoot me. He opened his eyes, a strained smile covering his features when he saw me. I climbed in and curled up against the door, hoping to catch a little more sleep. Minutes passed before his deep timbre echoed through the car. “I know you’re still up.”

“Not the point Dean. I’m trying to sleep, what you should be doing.”

“I can’t.”

I opened my eyes, turning to him. “Why not?”

“It’s,” he swallowed. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“No, it’s not nothing. What’s wrong?”

He scrubbed his hand down his face, looking out his window. “Micheal fucked with my head.”

“I thought you couldn’t remember anything?”

“I lied somewhat. He was awful Y/N. Showing me the things he would do if I didn’t obey. I—I can’t get the images out of my head.” His voice became tight with emotion.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. He’s gone now.” 

“That’s not the point. Micheal threatened Sam, mom, Cas, Jack, but the worst? He threatened you. God, Y/N, if you saw half of what he was going to do to you, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me.”

“Dean. He’s gone. We’ll find him, kill him and you’ll be fine.”

“Damn it Y/N, you don’t get it do you?”

“I don’t get what?”

“I love you! That’s why he threatened you.” I look into his forest-green eyes, studying the pain and anguish hidden behind them. 

“You don’t get to say that.”

“And why not?” 

I rest my back against the door, as far from him as possible. “You dumped me, remember? For a one-month-old? Not to mention how much of an asshole you were during the whole Amara situation.”

“I’m—”

“No Dean. You hurt me. You showed me just how little you care about me. You wouldn’t have even thought about her twice if you actually loved me. When Micheal convinced you to say yes, and you disappeared, I knew there was no fixing this. One day you're gonna find someone else and leave me just like you did the first time. I can’t go through that again. It would kill me.” I look at him, tears threatening to break through. “I love you. But I can’t do this to myself again”

“I won’t do it again, baby. Forever & al—”

“No!” My sob catches in my throat as I hug myself. “Forever doesn’t exist. Always means occasionally to you Dean.”

“Baby—”

“Stop.” I close my eyes, the pain slowly turning into anger. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Silence envelopes the space between us, leaving an awkward feeling between us.  

A sigh echoes from him, his hand running through his hair. “I know I fucked up. The Mark made me an absolute asshole, and I knew you deserved better. I tried real hard to bottle up those emotions I had for Amara, knowing they were only because of some weird mark-magic shit. After the whole demon ordeal, I knew you deserved better, so I quit trying. I had to hurt you to get you to leave me. I couldn’t run the risk of hurting you again.”

“Dean, that's not your discussion to make.”

“Isn’t it? I’m the one who was going to hurt you. It was me who took the Mark.”

“You don’t think I would’ve done the same to save the world? You’re really fucking dense if you can’t see I would’ve done the exact same thing. The only difference between you and me? I wouldn't have pushed you away for some random creature. Especially a baby!”

“Damnit Y/N. You don’t get it.”

“Then help me understand.” 

His eyes flicker from mine to my lips. “I love you so goddamn much, that hurting you would be hell all over again. And this time, not even Chuck could pull me out.”

My breath caught in my chest. “You don’t mean that.”

“Evey fucking word.”

I look out the window, mulling over his words. “Dean. I—”

“Fuck it.” Dean undoes his seatbelt, grabbing my jaw and forcing his lips to mine. Gasping, I open for his tongue, our saliva mixing into an intoxicating elixir. I throw my arms over his shoulders, pulling on the hairs at the nape of his neck. He pulls back exposing his neck, as I kiss along his jawline. I nip and suck beautiful bruises into his skin, pulling at the neckline of his shirt to reveal more of his skin. His hands go to grip my ass, pulling me over to straddle him. I lean back, making contact with his lust-darkened eyes and swollen lips. My hips grind down, a familiar ache developing in my lower stomach. Dean bites his lip, watching my hips as I rock against the zipper of his jeans, his erection pulling the fabric taut. I bring my lips to his again, small pecks while his hand rests around my throat,wringing a whine from me. “Princess, get your ass to the backseat now.”

I climbed into the back of the Impala, Dean following right on my tail, grinding his clothed cock against my ass as the door shut behind us. I went to turn around, stopped only by the sting of his hand meeting the meat of my ass. “Nuh uh, pretty girl, hands and knees.” 

“Asshole.” A crack rings through the air, his hand meeting my butt once again. 

“What was that again? Couldn't hear it over your bratty attitude.”

I lean my head on my arms, biting my lip to keep from saying anything else. Dean played with the waistband of my leggings, pulling the band just to let it snap against my skin. I push back into him, needing him urgently. Finally, he pulls my leggings and panties down, leaving them tangled up in my knees. Hands trace up my thighs, thumbs spreading my lower lips apart. “Jesus. Why’d I give this up? Such a pretty pussy, just begging for attention” 

“Don’t tease.”

“‘M not baby, just enjoying the view.” He trails his fingers through my folds, fingertips catching on my clit with each drag. Returning to my entrance, he slips his ring finger into me, curling it upward before he adds another. Suddenly, he pulls away, the sounds of his belt being undone sending a rush of anticipation through me. Dean slides his cock along my cunt, coating himself in the wetness fund there. “Wait, wait.”

“What’s wrong?” He leans back, removing his hands from my body. 

“Condom?” 

“Right, right, shit.” Dean climbs over the seat, popping open the glove box to get the needed protection. His jeans and boxers sit on his thighs, cock bobbing as he rolls the condom over it. “Good?”

“Good. Now get in here, cowboy.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He breaches my entrance, pushing into my heat, causing a whimper to leave my lips, shaped into his name. The cool metal of his belt buckle presses against the back of my thigh when he bottoms out, his groan vibrating against my back. “Dean, move.”

He tucks his head into my shoulder, a deep groan releasing from his chest. “Sweetheart, if I move, I’m gonna cum like a goddamn pre-teen. Give me a second.”

Rocking my hips back onto him, I earn myself another breathy moan. “Please, Dean?”

“Shit. You’re gonna be the death of me, baby.” He pulls back, my pussy encouraging him to return home. His hips snap to mine, balls tapping at my clit. I arch my back, panting as I meet each of his thrusts. He sits back, hands finding their place on my hips, dragging me back. “Look at you, such a perfect slut for me, aren’t ya? All for me.”

I moan as his hips speed up, the tip hitting the spongy spot inside me. Dean lands another slap on my ass, leaning forward to kiss the place under my ear. “You’re dripping, soaking my cock so well. And you said you didn’t miss this.”

He grinds into me, the icy feeling of the buckle pressing deep into the heat of my thigh. Baby’s windows fog up, our breaths intertwining in ecstasy as he speeds up, going harder, faster, deeper. Dean’s hand slides up my back, knotting into my hair, pulling me up to my knees, without slowing down. “God baby, your pussy is the closest thing to heaven I’ve ever felt. Fuck. Such a good girl for, shit, for me.” 

  I clench around his cock, my orgasm within reach. “Dean, I, I need—”

“I know, princess, I know.” His other hand wraps around the front of my waist, slipping between my folds as he finds my clit, circling it with the right amount of pressure. My head falls onto his shoulder, shameless moans exchanged between us as my climax comes closer and closer. “Dean.”

“C’mon babydoll, cum fr’me.” With that, I reach the heavens, Dean following close behind with a couple of thrusts before he spills into the condom. We lay there, breaths intermingling as he tucks his head into my neck again, pressing soft kisses to the skin there. I pull him away, looking into those enchanting green eyes of his. 

“Fuck you, Dean Winchester.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to my lips. “You just did, sweetheart.”

After cleaning up, again, I curl up on his chest in the back seat, satisfied and secure, as Dean traces patterns along my back, his breath evening out. 

“Dean.” He hums. “I meant what I said earlier. I truly love you.”

“I love you too sweet—”

“But if you break my heart this time, I will cut off your dick.”

“Fair. Now can you go to sleep? I fuckin’ exhausted.”

I giggle at his wording, snuggling into his chest again. Breakups are hard, but when you’re hopelessly in love, it’s hard to remember the pain. Unfortunately, I fell in love with Dean Winchester, and by fate’s design, he fell in love with me. 

[3ldrtchh0rr0rsys]

Look, it may be shitty of me to do this but I've scribbled out his name and he deleted his discord so I no longer care we're making fun of him kids. Keep in mind that this entire time he knew I was freshly 15 and he was, wait for it, 24. His frontal lobe was nearly developed. Also I don't have the screenshots of the constant trauma dumping, telling me how people my age kept ghosting him (WARNING SIGN WARNING SIGN KIDS) and other weird shit because honestly I do not need that brain rot invading me even more. Also don't worry I'm pretty much chilled out now we're just going for one last mocking session before we bring this to a close because I just realized some of these have never seen the beautiful light of day. More context I met this dude on Yanblr which is why I no longer engage there except for my lovely partner and why I didn't run nearly as quickly as I should've.

Remember guys, point and laugh (I don't know what trigger warnings to put here so just proceed with caution y'all, take care of yourselves <33)

Ignore Missy in the corner I refuse to go back to our discord messages again. Let's break these fuckers down merely for my entertainment.

1. I don't know either I was creeped out but didn't want to start problems so I just went with it. Also we're going to see this a lot so just know I was calling him "big brother" to try and establish that I only wanted platonic shit because he got mad when I kept calling him a good friend 🚩🚩🚩🚩 also I'm pretty sure I was partially regressed but I didn't know that at the time so he gets a pass on that and that alone

2. "I'm addicted to you"... Some kill me I'm going to book a flight to Canada and castrate him. I mean, this one speaks for itself and I was literally terrified but this was my first real friend in about a year.

3. Adoption. I don't remember why I screenshoted this exactly but I guess it just gave me the heebie jeebies for some reason? The bad vibes, the beginning of the end.

4. I had sent him a fit check in a large tee-shirt because as I said in the texts I have sensory issues which causes properly fighting clothes to overstimulate me. Why you trying to share clothes with a minor my good bitch?

5. Another one of I don't remember why I screenshoted it but knowing what I knew when taking the photos it just was weird to me.

6. I talked about having another mutual on Tumblr. And then called him a grown man jokingly. Uhm, anyways skipping over that one

7. This was after I blocked him on Instagram and Tumblr because he said his girlfriend was going to get jealous and murder me.... A girlfriend who I met and is the sweetest human possible for the situation she was in and I'm literally tweaking for her.

Yeah uh, so... Weird ass bitch who would beg me for voice messages and pictures for some reason. Idk, not the worst I've seen even with the stuff I don't even want to screenshot but definitely a weird ass dude.

-Milo

[toggle1-mrfipp]

CSM 167: Yo, What the Fuck?

So, that chapter, huh?

To just get it out of the way, Yoru gave Denji a handjob and he came on her hand, and despite how crude that sounds I find this whole chapter fascinating. Normally I like to think these kinds of posts out but right now my mind is racing trying to organize everything, so I'm going write whatever pops into my mind.

So first thing, there's the issue of consent, and I'll start with Asa, because she didn't show up until the very end, but we have to remember that Asa has shown the ability to push Yoru out of the driver's seat in moments where she is particularly having strong emotions, and someone using your hand to jack someone off would get some kind of strong emotion out of her. Yoru seems to act as Asa's unfiltered, unrestrained thoughts and desires, the version of Asa that acts without the worry of what other people think or say about her, so that means if Yoru was allowed to do this, then that means on some subconscious level that Asa was okay with this happening. I'm certain she'll scream and yell about it later, but that won't change the fact she let this happen. Then there's Denji, who at this point I think we'll just have to accept that even if all parties involved give consent I doubt he'll ever have a really "normal" sexual experience, and the fact that Yoru seemed to be getting into this along with him, instead of her just using it to manipulate him like literally every other girl he's been with unironically maybe puts it at the top of the list for him.

Which brings me to Yoru! back when the had the apartment date, she kissed Denji and when she pulled away she was blushing, she felt something for him at that moment, and as we saw here the returning memory of that date had her act on that feeling again. We know that Asa's emotions leak into Yoru, and considering Asa's own feelings on Denji that means that to some extent Yoru feels them too, but unlike Asa, Yoru has no inhibitions to stop her from acting on her desires.

EDIT: I decided to add another bit on Yoru

The thing I'm most interested in seeing is how this will affect Yoru's relationship with her own powers. Her weapons are powered up by the guilt associated in making them, but between having no real moral compass and not ever becoming emotionally attached to anything she's never had any sense of guilt, meaning she can't make the most of her own powers. What will happen if she tries to make weapon out of Denji? She's feeling attracted to him, she knows she likes him, meaning she'll get a strong weapon out of him, but what if she goes for it and she can't do it because guilt is such a foreign concept for her despite how important it is to her skill set and having to actually confront her own guilt terrifies her?

Overall, this chapter left me with two major thoughts on what I think/want to happen.

The first being is that this is what causes Denji to snap, that he'll have some post-nut clarity and call Asa out on how she's been acting, because from his point of view she's been an unstable, schizophrenic psychopath this whole day. Denji asks her about her arm, she kicks him in the balls, she says she wants to help him, but she threatens to fight him, she tries to castrate him, and she gives him a hand job and makes out with him! What is he supposed to reasonably think about her in this situation when she's just been nothing but an inconsistent mess? I want them to start getting mad and start yelling, with Asa arguing with both him and Yoru which only makes her look more insane to him. I really feel like if they get angry, then Denji can actually start beginning to take some control of his life back instead of letting everyone push him around, and Asa will be forced to confront her flaws and mistakes, that she can only be in denial for so long while Denji is screaming in her face about it. It would be ugly and messy, but I think it might actually be good for them in the end.

Also, I'm not entirely joking when I say if those two(three?) end up having intense hate sex in that alleyway in the rain, then I think it would be insane in the best kind of ways.

And second, I think it would be unhinged is Asaden was a red herring, and Yoruden was the real end game pairing. It might legit be the start to Asa's villain origin story. She goes out and does all these things just so Denji can feel strong affections for her, to give her something to latch her self-worth and the attempts to validate her life, oly for Denji to fall in love with Yoru instead. It would be both hilarious and tragic.

Another thing! Up until this point I thought Denji and Asa's relationship would be a tragedy or What Ifs and Could Have Beens, but instead I want them to be unhinged as possible, spiraling down while they blaze the candle at both ends. Just let their relationship become everyone's problem from now on.

Overall, the last few months have left me nervous and apprehensive about what each new chapter of Chainsaw Man will bring, but as of this chapter I find myself more excited than ever because I feel like this might end up taking the story is some insane places.

ONE MORE EDIT: I wrote a one-shot regarding my interpretation of this mess: Back Alley Screaming Match.

[hannahssimblr]

I wait for her to finish her story about the Abercrombie bags and then I pull her into me so that we can kiss for a while, and I like her then, once I’ve ignored the disquiet in my head, turned it down so that it’s more of a niggling annoyance somewhere in the background of my mind.

“Did you know that being with you feels like being in a movie?” She whispers as I help her out of her top, and I almost admit to her that I do that on purpose, and that it’s really not hard to climb up onto her balcony like Romeo and orchestrate that perfect vibe when I could have probably come in through the scullery door instead and saved myself the effort, especially since she evidently didn't even get the reference.

“It’s just kinda how I am, I guess,” I say, and am suddenly a bit disgusted with the simpering way I say it and the stupid little half shrug I do to accompany it. If any of my friends knew that I am like this behind closed doors they would give me some devastating nickname that would haunt me for the rest of my life and probably, deservedly, destroy my reputation. 

Clóda doesn’t see it like that, I know by the look on her face that to her I am an exotic, suave American boy who can buy her Abercrombie T–shirts and will punctuate a chain of hickeys on her neck that she can flaunt to her friends.

“Do you want to keep going?” I ask her, “How close are your parents?”

“They’re in the sitting room below, we’d have to be really quiet…”

I bite my lip, “and how bad is it if I make noise?”

“Are you serious? Really bad. My dad does not like you, and I’m already on thin ice since he found out I was lying about camping.”

“Wait, he found out about that?”

“Yeah because of the ticks on me, remember? I said they were from Rachel’s dog. Well the other day my mam saw her mam at the newsagents and asked her how her dog was, and she said that he never even had any ticks. Then they figured out that I’ve been lying about where I’ve been.”

I stare at her incredulously, “so where did you say you were?”

She glances away, “well, they questioned me for ages, and I tried not to say anything, but eventually I kind of didn’t have a choice but to say that I was with you.”

Heat rises to the top of my head, “So they know.”

“Yeah, but it’s fine… Well, like, they’re really annoyed with me and I suppose they’d be annoyed with you too if they were to see you, but-”

“Clóda, I’m certain they are livid with me. What am I even doing here, are you serious? Why did you invite me over?”

“Because I’m grounded.”

“You’re-” I get up and begin to yank my shoes on, “You’re grounded? Great. Wow, yeah it was a great idea to come here.”

She has an utterly perplexed look on her face as she sits up and watches me fumble with my laces, “Are you leaving?”

“For Christ sake, yes. Of course I’m leaving. I don’t feel like being castrated by your dad.”

“But I won’t see you until I’m done being grounded if you don’t come over…”

“Yeah, well just text me when you’re out, then.”

“In a week?”

“Yeah, let’s give it a week, huh?”

I exit swiftly through the balcony door and leap over the railings and down the side of the sunroom. I land in a hedge and several branches snap noisily. A dog barks in the garden, a porch light comes on but it’s okay, because by then I’m already gone. I am back on my bicycle and riding back toward the beach under the cover of night before anybody can catch sight.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[thebanishedreader]

Ongoing Book Review: Dead Inside (Chandler Morrison) Pt. 1

I take way too long to finish books since I read like 7 at a time, so I have decided to start posting my thoughts and reviews as I go along. Also, that way I can actually commit to posting these reviews once I finish the book, which is yet another thing the commitment devils have kept me from accomplishing.

Anyhow, though, here we go: the first ongoing review will cover what I have read so far of Dead Inside by Chandler Morrison.

(CW: mentions of necrophilia, cannibalism, and sex. NSFW I guess).

Description by Seller (amazon.com): "A young hospital security guard with a disturbingly unique taste in women. A maternity doctor with a horrifically unusual appetite. When the two of them meet, they embark on a journey of self-discovery while shattering societal norms and engaging in destructively aberrant behavior. As they unwittingly help each other understand a world in which neither seems to belong, they begin to realize what it truly means to be alive... And that it might not always be a good thing."

Here I am, 15% through the book. I know it's not far, but honestly, it's far enough. All I have to say is-- wow. Wow.

This book kinda sucks. Just an all-around drag. A bore, but not the pleasant boring drawl of a lecturer putting you to sleep. The harrowing, suffocating boredom of having to work a shift with that coworker that you hate, that makes you cringe so hard that it's not even entertaining to hate them anymore. Get me out of here. That's how this book feels.

For a book constantly boasting how readers say it's "not for the faint of heart," it's surprisingly underwhelming. I'm frankly disappointed, and yet this book keeps embarrassing itself so much within only 15% that I can't even be angry at myself for falling into its trap.

My reasoning falls into 3 categories: Let-Down, Cringe, and Excuses.

First things first - I was expecting something raunchy, something gruesome and disturbing. I'm not one of those people who shies away from Dead Dove content, far from it. I love that shit. Literature is a place to explore the dangerous, the taboo, the fucked up-ness of being a person. So, finding a book that pledged it was disgusting, disturbing, and medically horrifying? Sign me up. This book is... not that.

What was promised to be a horror novel that pushes the boundaries of what is too much horror, what toes the line between gratuitous and entertaining, this novel relies on one thing: shock value. And the biggest bummer for that tactic is this: if your audience is not shocked, then there is nothing left supporting the narrative.

Dead Inside relies entirely on the audience not being familiar with horror stories or even true crime stories involving necrophilia or cannibalism. The concept of a perverted security guard using his power to violate corpses is supposed to be mortifying, unbelievably despicable. Yet for a seasoned horror fan, it's nothing short of lame. Juvenile, almost. There is hardly any risk when our security guard goes into a morgue which he holds the key to, wherein there are no security cameras, where he can do whatever he pleases, lay on the floor afterwards, and go back to work-- in a tiny, unbusy hospital. It's boring, it's lame, who gives a shit if this weirdo gets his rocks off in weird ways; it's horrible to think of it happening in real life to the body of a loved one, certainly, but this is horror literature. Stephen King would have had worms crawling up the dude's dick and blossoming into a parasite that whispers in his ear until he castrates himself. Chandler Morrison just has our (I hate to even call him this) protagonist fuck a corpse. Cool, I guess.

2. Number Two. Let's talk Cringe Factor.

This narrator is unbearable. Unbearable. He sounds like the stereotype of a discord edgelord who is narrating this book with the sole purpose of scaring off the normies. He relishes in saying gross things, being gross, all while acting as if he is so much more sophisticated than he is.

It doesn't help that the book is narrated in first person. This goes back to how I described the experience of reading Dead Inside to be equivalent to working a shift with a coworker that is very much not your friend who disrespects you the same way a friend would tease. It's just plain oblivious. Our necrophiliac incel narrator is the epitome of the Riverdale meme where Jughead says "I'm weird. I'm a weirdo. I don't fit in. And I don't want to fit in." Like, Christ man, we get it, you don't shower and your hair is greasy and people don't want to be around you not because you're "weird", but because you're inconsiderate and unhygienic and put 0 effort into anything whatsoever. Having to listen to the narrator's commentary on how he's aware how disturbing his own actions are, how he knows the ordinary person would see him as a freak, it's just so lame. That's the only word I have for it, really. Just completely and utterly lame. This novel reads with the same tone as a Reddit incel jerk-off posting about Elliot Rodger. It's just pathetic, but there's no pity there. It's entirely self-induced patheticness that the narrator excuses as being "unique."

It's fine to have characters in books that are frustrating, irritating, that make you just want to smack them upside the head for yapping too long. But it's never a good sign when the person I want most desperately to shut the fuck up is the narrator. It's not good writing if my method of making the narrator quit talking is closing the book and contemplating whether or not it's even worth finishing. Extraordinarily poor quality character. But it's not intentional - we are supposed to find this character disturbing, threatening, and eerily fucked up. We're supposed to wonder why he got this way, and what it will take to break him. We are supposed to hate him, and relish in his demise. I feel nothing but exasperation from this man. The simplest way to resolve my hatred for him is to close the book and put it away. I don't give a fuck what happens to him. I don't think he even deserves my attention, and he's the narrator. This is bad.

3. And finally. Excuses.

This complaint is a short, but prudent one. The writing quality is mediocre at best. One of the biggest rules of any creative work, but particularly writing, art, and filmmaking, is that your audience is smarter than you think. Leave things open for interpretation. Leave opportunity for ponderance, and analysis. Show, don't tell.

Dead Inside is all tell, with nothing to show. Our narrator is a loser, but Morrison doesn't let us own it. Instead, excuses are made; the most infuriating example of this is after our narrator has finished fornicating with a poor, lifeless victim. The section goes:

"... but my lovers are all equipped with the best birth control the world can offer. As in, dead reproductive systems. I know that goes without saying, but I like to say it." (p. 21)

If it goes without saying, then don't say it. The segment would have been entirely fine without that last remark; if anything, it would have been better, and bolstered the narrator's character as a whole! And this is only one of the outright examples I have of this characterization.

The bitter, dark humor of our narrator would have been brilliantly given if the quote ended at "dead reproductive systems." We would have been left with the pure objectification and lack of emotion our narrator possesses, how he sees dead bodies purely as anatomical tools for his own peak control and pleasure, his own performance. We as the audience would have been victims of him as well, subjected to listen to the gross things he says and does and entirely unable to resist it-- pure puppets for his sick fantasies, just like the corpses he violates. It would have illustrated an actual level of mystique and unsettling nature to the relationship between narrator and narrated and audience. The novel's ongoing themes of fetish and object, the definitions of violation, it all would have been so interesting if only the narrator didn't say something so juvenilely self-aware every five seconds, like he's vying for our attention and approval. Look!!, Morrison makes our narrator constantly wave his hands in our face like a child, Look!! Isn't that fucked up!! Look at how fucked up I can be! Tell me I'm gross, tell me I'm weird!! Look at how gross that is, right!! That's scary, right??

No. It's annoying, and it gets old before it even got a chance to start.

Again, I'm 25 pages into a 191 page book. It's mid as fuck. I hope it turns around, but I don't think it will-- I can see from only 15% where this story is going, I bet I can plot out most if not the entire rest of the book. I think the concept is one spooky "what-if" that goes no deeper than that. Honestly, I'm really disappointed. I wanted to be disturbed. I don't have much motivation to keep reading this book except the pervasive nagging of my soul to finish most books I pick up. Plus, I want to know if I'm wrong about how dog this has so far turned out to be.

If you made it this far, holy shit. Congrats. You're running the Athens marathon by reading this. You're amazing. I'm giving you a small kiss on the forehead.

[l4ndojpg]

Whumptober 2023, Day 1: "How many fingers am I holding up?"

fandom: criminal minds | characters: spencer reid (centric), derek morgan, emily prentiss, david rossi | ship: none | trigger warnings: none | content: case fic, concussion, team as a family | word count: 1.1k.

“It’s starting to get dark,” Spencer says, trying not to let the anxiety bubbling in his stomach leak into his words.

“No way,” Morgan says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You really are a genius.” 

“Hey,” Spencer snaps, looking over at his friend. He’s leaning against a tree in a clearing in the woods they currently occupy, looking wrecked with tiredness. “I know you’re worn out, but don’t project your exhaustion onto me.” 

“Spence is right,” Emily says from where she sits on the filthy ground next to him, elbows propped against her knees. “Let’s just figure this out so that we can get out of here.” 

“Sorry kid,” Morgan sighs, and Spencer nods at him. 

“It’s fine. Just give me a few more minutes.” 

They’ve been hunting their unsub, John McClintock, for days now. The serial killer has been taking men that hike on their own in the woods the BAU has split up to comb, castrating them and dumping their bodies all over. It hasn’t been an easy or pleasant case by any stretch, but Emily, Derek and Spencer have made marginally more progress than the others tracking the unsub over the last few hours. 

Spencer inspects his surroundings carefully, squinting as it grows darker quicker than he would like. After another moment of tired silence, he gestures to the left of his colleagues. 

“I think we should go this way. The trees get thicker the further left we go, and we profiled he’d need cover.” 

It’s a stretch, but it’s something, and after hours out in the humid Arizona air, something is better than nothing. The trio starts along the left, getting deeper and deeper into thicker trees. Spencer lets the other two lead the way. He follows, nervousness spiking as the darkness begins to take over and the three agents pull out their flashlights. He jumps when Emily’s two-way radio buzzes suddenly. 

“Prentiss,” Hotch’s voice comes through crackly and broken, but they gather the next few words. “We’re at a dead end. It’s going to be too dark to search soon. Give it five more minutes then turn around.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Emily agrees. “We’ll-,” She stops dead, and Spencer bumps into her. 

“Sor-,” he’s about to apologize when he realizes why she and Morgan stopped so abruptly in the first place. 

Even through the darkness, Spencer can make out the run down cabin that stands in front of them. His hand automatically tightens around his gun, which he’s holding beneath his flashlight. 

“Good work kid,” Morgan breathes appreciatively. “You reckon this is it?” 

“Hotch,” Emily says. “We’ll hit you back. We might have something here.” 

“Send us your coordinates,” Hotch says, but his voice starts to fade and become harder to understand. “We’ll send backup and…” 

“Hotch?” Emily says after the voice fades completely, and then a red light shines for a second. 

The radio is dead. 

“Great,” she snaps, holstering the radio back on her belt. “Fucking fabulous.” 

“Look,” Morgan says, in the voice that means he’s about to defy orders. “There’s three of us, and one of him. He might not even be there. This might not even be his cabin. Who wants to take the odds?” 

“Well, the odds-,” 

“Spence,” Emily smiles at him wanly. “Let’s just do it.” 

Spencer sighs. “Fine,” he says. “But when Hotch asks, you better tell him that I didn’t agree to this.” 

Morgan chuckles. “Hotch is used to you making reckless decisions, pretty boy. I wouldn’t worry.” 

“I’ll take the back,” Emily says, and the other two agree silently. 

“Be careful,” Spencer says, and she nods before disappearing quietly behind the cabin. 

Spencer and Morgan advance carefully, guns at the ready with Morgan in the lead. They make their way silently up the wooden stairs, avoiding the holes in the weathered wood. Morgan raps sharply on the door. 

“FBI, open up!” 

When there’s no answer, he throws a grin over his shoulder at Spencer, who rolls his eyes. “Go on then,” Spencer says, and Morgan kicks in the door with glee. Morgan steps over the threshold first, and at first glance Spencer can see over his friend’s shoulder the house is dark and desolate. Morgan moves forward and Spencer steps forward too. 

He’s not taken no more than three steps further than the doorway when something collides with his skull with a sickening, dull, crack. 

Pain explodes in his head and stars dance across his vision. He drops to his knees with a groan as he hears a gunshot, and the next second, Morgan is by his side. 

“Reid!” 

“Mmm,” Spencer says, falling back onto his heels, brain foggy with pain. The thudding in his head spreads through his entire body in mere seconds, and the side of his face feels like it’s on fire. “Mmm,” Spencer tries again, but he can’t summon the strength to look anywhere other than the floor in front of him, which is spinning and multiplying before his very eyes, let alone answer his friend. 

“-is dead, I turned as soon as I heard Reid fall and shot him-,” 

“-tell the others we need medical-,” 

“-radio’s dead-,”

Emily’s voice joins Morgans, and they collide in a loud symphony that ricochets around his brain painfully. He shuts his eyes, trying to block out some of the pain. 

“No, Spencer,” Emily says, prodding his side gently, sounding worried. “Keep your eyes open.” 

He puts all his energy into opening his eyes to glare at her. Somehow, he’s lying down now, and there’s something soft under his head. When did he lie down? 

“Kid, how many fingers am I holding up?” Morgan asks, and his hand hovers in front of Spencer’s face. 

Spencer squints. “Three hands,” he mumbles. “You have three hands.” 

“Shit,” Morgan hisses, and Spencer gathers that was not the answer his friends were looking for. He makes to shut his eyes again. He’d really quite like a nap right about now.

“Reid!” Emily says again, and Spencer grimaces at how loud she’s being. Doesn’t she know it’s time to sleep? 

“Emily,” he groans, eyes still shut, trying to ignore the thudding in his head. “It’s bedtime. Shhh.” 

There’s a loud noise nearby, and Spencer brings his hands up to his face. Why’s everyone being so goddamn loud?! 

“Oh thank God,” Morgan says suddenly.

“It’s not bedtime yet, kiddo,” a new voice joins the group. Rossi. When did Rossi get here? 

Voices start to drop in and out of the conversation, and Spencer tries to inject his opinion, but everything hurts and his eyes are heavy and his face is starting to numb and honestly, he just wants to sleep. 

“Reid,” Morgan growls from somewhere to his right. “Open your eyes.” 

“Nnngshshf,” Spencer mutters something unintelligible and opens his eyes with a lot of effort. 

“That’s our genius,” Rossi says dryly, looking down at Spencer. “Don’t worry kid, only a few more minutes. Hotch and JJ are on the way with medical.” 

“Then sleep?” Spencer asks, his tongue feeling like it weighs a ton in his mouth. 

“Then sleep,” Emily confirms from his side, and he gives her a weak thumbs up.

[crypticdesire]

okokok here me out...

i need you to realize how hot it is to write a monsterfucking fic based off of spider mating habits, so imma nerd out for a min. i use the terms male and female to distinguish between the differing biological characteristics but obviously any fic can be as gender ambiguous as you'd like

if you’re someone who loves macro/micro like me, you should know there can be extreme sexual size dimorphism where female spiders can be anywhere from 3 to 10 times larger than the males. all the males basically assume the role of service tops as a way to survive the mating process because females will eat anyone they don’t want to mate with. and even if they let them begin copulation, there’s no guarantee they won’t eat the male during or after sex.

the way it works is that the males store their sperm in the appendages on the side of their head (pedipalps), and females have two copulatory opening on their underside for the males to stick their palps into.

To increase their chances of surviving the mating process, they make extra efforts to soothe the female like binding them with silk threads, which is like caressing them to relax them. There’s even a spider (Darwin’s bark spider) that will engage in oral sex, salivating on the female’s genitals before, between, and after copulation possibly up to 100 times ( talk about some good sloppy head ! )

they also tend to try to mate with females just after they’ve molted and are unable to eat them which could be a concept totally adapted for a sickfic where the usually dom character is submissive when sick

and for my people that love cannibalism as a metaphor or maybe even not as a metaphor you should know that there are some male spider species that want to ensure that the female takes all their sperm so badly that they will encourage her to eat them during the mating process by getting into a 69 type of position.

others will castrate themselves if they have to either to avoid being eaten or as a way to plug the female’s opening to stop other male spiders from mating with her.

[pure-garbage]

One Year Later! What Are The Siblings Up To, Anyway?

Chapter Warnings: Violence

Alan had landed himself in hot water, leaving his sister with no choice but to bail him out. Unfortunately, the bounty hounds he'd run afoul of knew Lana by sight.

"Lockbreaker Avariya Lana of the straw hat pirates," their ring leader declared. "It's not every day a ninety-three million berry bounty falls into a man's lap!"

'Not exactly an unexpected development,' Lana sighed inwardly. She'd allowed herself to be captured, lacking any other way to locate her bumbling little brother. They were still traveling completely alone, meaning she knew full well she would need to rely on her own ingenuity to free him. While she was confident in her adaptability and the arsenal of tricks she literally had hidden up her sleeve, she was still sweating nervously waiting for this goon to finish patting himself on the back.

'They know who I am, so they won't make it easy for me to lockpick my way out of this one. Depending on what they come up with, this could get complicated.'

Lana had to hide a smile. She was hoping to avoid making a big mess and attracting unwanted attention from the navy, but if push came to shove she was pretty sure she could take all these guys out with her hands tied behind her back anyway.

'I'll try subtlety first, but I won't let them put me in any position I'm not one hundred percent sure I can get out of.'

"Not sure why they think she's worth that much, if I'm being honest," the man who had 'captured' her admitted. "Given the reputation the straw hats earned before they all disappeared, I was expecting more of a struggle. Maybe this one just isn't much of a fighter."

"Her specialty is picking locks, isn't that right, doll?" the ring leader crooned. "Specialists are never fighters, they trade on their skills and rely on the stronger members of their crew to protect them. Speaking of which, where are all the stronger straw hats, anyway? I wouldn't mind collecting the rest of their bounties. If you're here..."

Lana set her jaw, swallowing the pain his suggestion brought back to the forefront of her mind. It had been a year since she'd seen anyone on her crew and aside from Zoro, she couldn't begin to imagine where the others might be.

"Tsh, well no matter," the leader sighed. "If they're in the area, we'll find them. If we're lucky, maybe they'll come to rescue this little lady. Toss her in the back with Sara's little loverboy. Oh, and Vin?"

"Eh?" responded Lana's captor.

"No chains, no locks. Rope only. Hogtie the lockbreaker and make sure she can't move an inch! This'll be the easiest ninety mil we've ever made!"

'What a bunch of morons,' Lana grinned internally, struggling to keep a somber expression as Vin nodded his understanding and hauled her away. Clearly, outside the navy at least, there was still a good deal of confusion left in the world over the exact nature of her skillset.

'Well, I'm not gonna complain. These idiots underestimating me can only work to my advantage.'

She submitted to Vin's rope work, which was admittedly not half bad. He dragged her to a room where Alan slumped dejectedly in a corner, shackled to the wall.

"Oh no! Lana, they got you too?!" Alan cried when he saw her.

"Alan! I'm gonna kick your butt so hard when we get out of this mess!" Lana spat as Vin dumped her alongside her brother.

"I'm so sorry!"

"All the girls in the world and you pick a bounty hunter to seduce?"

"How was I supposed to know she was a bounty hunter?!" Alan demanded. "And she came on to me!"

"Yeah, Sara has the worst taste in dweebs," Vin chuckled. "You two get comfortable, now. The marines should already be on their way to get the pirate... as for you, dweeb, Sara's saying she plans to castrate you and sell you off to a choir troupe."

"A what?!" Alan demanded, voice comically high at the thought. "You're making that up! There's no such thing!"

The bounty hound only laughed while Lana waited impatiently for him to leave. As soon as he did, she could go to work untying herself, break Alan out, then...

She frowned deeply as Vin crouched at her side and reached for her face.

"Before I forget..." he said.

Lana's heart pounded, dread and questions filling her. Her intuition didn't warn of her any attack. His intentions were pure greed.

'These knots will only take me a minute to get out of, but that could be too long! What the hell does he want?!'

Vin seized Lana's jaw and tipped her head back forcibly.

"Hey! Hands off, you lug!" she shouted.

"Lana! Hey, don't touch her!" Alan cried in dismay.

"Shiny," the bounty hunter commented with a grin. "I've been eyeing this ever since I nabbed you... lucky for me the boss wasn't thinking of anything but that ninety mil when I brought you in."

Lana's heart stopped with horror. The man stroked a fingertip over Zoro's earring, gently dangling from Lana's ear.

"Oh yeah, she's real gold, alright," Vin smirked smugly.

"Touch that and you're a dead man!" Lana seethed.

'I could kill him right now... could I do it fast enough? Maybe with my power... calm-calm-'

Lana's hesitation was brief, but it cost her dearly. Vin swiftly unhooked the earring and pulled away, cackling to himself as he tucked his prize into his pocket.

"What a nice little bonus!" Vin cheered. "And no need to split it with the others! Suckers!"

Lana actually growled as she watched him go. The second the door closed, she went to work freeing herself.

"Whoa!" Alan gasped. "Lana, you're..."

"An outstanding lockbreaker who's not challenged by a few stupid knots!" Lana scowled as layers of rope fell away one by one.

"Wow, sweet! Do me next!" Alan encouraged her.

"Close your eyes," Lana ordered tersely.

"Huh?

"Close your eyes!"

"Why?"

"'Cause if you learn my secret technique I'll have to kill you," she snarled, menacing aura rolling off her in irate waves as she stewed with anger at the loss of her only memento of Zoro.

Alan gulped hard and squeezed his eyes shut tight. Lana opened the compartment Franky had embedded in her arm, retrieving her backup pins and quickly freeing Alan from his restraints. She tucked the pins into her pocket and closed the compartment, then tapped Alan's forehead.

"You can open your eyes now."

"You're so mad at me," he sighed unhappily.

"This mess is turning into a real pain," Lana snapped.

"I promise I'll find a way to make it up to you as soon as-"

"Nuh-uh. After tonight, we're through!" Lana cut him off.

"Huh?"

"Go home or keep sleeping your way down the grand line... do what you want, but do it on your own," Lana all but snarled. "I've had enough of your idiotic stunts."

Lana stood and placed a palm flat on the wall while Alan sputtered dejectedly.

'If I'm right, this wall leads out into an alley... time to see if any of this training is paying off,' Lana thought.

"Calm-calm: library feng-sui!"

She shrouded the room in silence, then took a deep breath and a few steps back. Alan opened his mouth to question her, but he was rendered mute by her power.

"Sanji could kick a wall like this down, no problem," Lana mused to psych herself up. "Luffy would smash it to bits, Zoro would slice right through it. Wish I had my daggers... this is gonna wind me. Here goes... Aello's hand: harpy's lash!"

A flying slash hurtled from Lana's bare hand, scoring the wall deeply.

"Now tempest kick!"

The second attack didn't pack as much of a punch, but the 'x' etched into the wall was imposing indeed. Thanks to the effect of her devil fruit, she was able to execute the assault in perfect silence. There was no chance of their captors being alerted.

"Again! Harpy's lash! Tempest kick!"

Alan watched her with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as she assaulted the wall. He'd watched her training on the boat, but her slashes had always flown away harmlessly over the open ocean. This was the first time he'd actually seen one land on a solid surface and the destructive power she mustered rendered him speechless.

'These two add up to a hell of a combo,' Lana thought with immense satisfaction as she pressed on.

The wall came crashing down after the third set of attacks, dust rising in a way that seemed nearly comical with no sound behind it. Lana turned to find Alan's eyes as wide as saucers and his lips moving wordlessly. With a sigh, she released him from the hold of her power, allowing him to speak.

"Lana, you're... you're so badass!" he managed.

"What, did you think I was lifting all those weights for nothing?" she huffed. "Now get out of here."

"H-hold on, you're not coming with me?" he demanded. "Let's at least escape together before-"

"I can't leave yet. That jerk took something important from me!" Lana growled.

"That earring? Forget it, Lana! The world is full of jewelry, you can get another!" Alan cried, baffled.

"I can't! Zoro gave me that to hold onto until I see him again, it's irreplaceable!" Lana scowled.

"Look, I don't know your pirate hunter boyfriend except by reputation, but wouldn't he want you safe?!" Alan reasoned. "I'm sure he'd rather you not risk your life over some dumb trinket!"

"It's not dumb and Zoro would do the same in my place!" Lana raged. "Now get out of here Alan! You'll just keep getting in my way if you stick around, so go! Now!"

"But-"

"I said GO!"

Lana sent a slash whistling past his ear in her anger, close enough to send a few of his hairs drifting to the ground. Alan flinched, but didn't move, staring at her with a frozen expression of hurt and disbelief.

"Tch! Have it your way!" Lana snapped. She stuck her pins into the lock of the door, forcing it open easily. "I set you free, so do whatever you want, but don't expect me to bail you out a second time!"

Lana stepped out into the main room where the bounty hunters were gathered to celebrate their catch. They didn't notice her at first, which was fine by her. She scanned the scene, but didn't see the man who had taken her treasure.

"What a hassle," she grumbled loudly, drawing shocked stares from the nearest men.

"Whoa!"

"Uh... boss? Who'd you put in charge of tying up the lockbreaker?" one gaped.

The boss still had his back to Lana, though nearly all eyes in the room were on her by now. Murmurs rippled through the crowd of bounty hunters, followed by silence.

"Vin," the leader replied. "Why d'you ask?"

"Looks like Vin messed up."

"Yeah, Vin ties a really shitty knot," Lana declared in agreement. Vin actually tied a decent knot, but knocking his ability was in her best interest. She wanted to keep the bounty hunting community at large from wising up to the fact that ropes were pretty much useless against her.

"Speaking of Vin," Lana went on, "... I need to have a word with him. Anyone know where he is?"

Another beat of stunned inaction passed. Someone dropped a pin at the back of the room.

"Well don't just stand there!" the leader roared. "Get her again!"

Lana cracked her knuckles, observation telling her the exact order of the first attacks. After a year of honing her skills through practice and active meditation, she had extended the length of her foresight to nearly three seconds.

'I can't believe I used to think this was just all really accurate guesswork,' she marveled.

She dropped the first three bounty hunters who came at her and stole and axe from one.

"Thanks, pal," she commented as she stepped over his prone figure. "Now..."

She flipped the weapon a few times to get a feel of its weight.

'Sturdy. Hefty. I could get used to this.'

"I'm not leaving 'til I get that chat with this Vin jackass, and I don't care how many of you chumps I have to rough up to find him," she informed them.

'They'll all charge.'

"Have it your way," she grinned demonically. "I could use the practice anyway!"

___________________________________________

<== Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ==>

== First Chapter ==

[unmeisenshi]

Florence returned with Audie, bandaging his bicep up and laying him in her room. When Florence exited the room, her hands stained with Audie's blood, she turned to Kita standing near the door. She looked in the room and saw her father laying down with a bandage, and blood covering her grandmother's hands.

"Grandma... Is Dad okay?" She asked, a few tears beginning to brim in her eyes.

Florence motioned for Kita to follow her into the kitchen while Florence washed her hands. "Your Dad..." She paused for a moment, trying to think on how to answer her question. "Your Dad is a bit sick."

Kita tilted her head. "Sick? Like a tummy ache? Or a fever?"

"Sort of. He's just had... A lot on his mind. So much so that he accidentally hurt himself." Florence wouldn't dare tell that Audie hurt himself intentionally. She finished washing her hands and she picked Kita up and carried her back to the room. "He's going to be okay. He'll just need a bit of support... From everyone. That means lots of hugs and cuddles with him and your daddy."

Kita remained silent, and vigorously nodded. "Okay!"

"Good." Florence said, smiling back at Kita. "I'll stay here with you for tonight. So then your Dad can get some rest."

"Okay. Good night, Grandma!" Kita ran back to her bed, climbing in and getting under the covers. Florence would do much the same, and fell asleep not too long after.

-

The following morning, Florence took care of Kita while Audie remained asleep. She made breakfast for the pair, and they soon left for the beach once more. Florence was much more active with Kita, helping her build a sand castle with some other kids on the beach. Things were going smoothly, until...

"Hey there. Good to see you back out here again."

Florence turned around to see the same Snorlax from the previous day. "Now that that puss of a son you have is gone, what say me and you go for a good time?"

The kids all paused, staring at the Snorlax then back at Florence. She remained quiet for a moment, and remembered back to her and Audie's conversation from the night before.

"You're so much stronger than me. And I mean that."

Florence turned to the kids. "Why don't you kiddos head over to the water while I talk to this gentleman?"

Kita knew exactly what was about to happen. "Hey guys, let's go. But not too far from Grandma." The Eevee led the kids to the edge of the water, leaving Florence with the Snorlax.

"So... You wanted me so bad... And here I am." Florence walked up to the Snorlax, her hand beginning to trace down his chest.

The Snorlax breathed heavily, a grin beginning to creep onto his face. "What can I say? I'm a 'mon of taste."

"That you are." Florence's hand traced down further, nearing the Snorlax's thigh. "How are you about being... A little rough... During our fun time?"

The Snorlax grinned even wider. "I don't mind at all. I'm a big guy, but I have a lot of stamina."

"Good... I'm glad to hear that." Florence's hand drifted in-between the Snorlax's legs. When she found what it was she was looking for, she squeezed.

For a moment, the Snorlax didn't even respond. But as soon as Florence squeezed, he let out a shrill scream, and he fell to one knee. Most of the people turned to see what was happening, with a lot of the Pokemon recognizing Florence and beginning to cheer for her. The Snorlax looked up. "What... Why are you-" His voice was much higher pitched.

The Umbreon knelt down to be at the Snorlax's level. "Listen. Stop making advances on me, and trying to put your grubby hands on my body. I am already spoken for, if you couldn't tell by my son being out here yesterday. If I see you one more time, I swear to Poké Christ I will castrate you in front of all of these people. Do we understand each other?"

When the Snorlax didn't answer, Florence tugged a little harder. "Do we? Understand? Each other?"

"Yes! Yes!" The Snorlax pleaded. Florence would let go, allowing the gawker to nearly fall over.

"Oh, and one more thing..." Florence started. She would then use two fingers to strike multiple pressure points on the Snorlax's body. He would nearly pass out from the pain, with Florence stopping just before he did. "With what you got? The only thing you'd be showing a good time is your hand."

She then, one last time, hit a pressure point. The Snorlax fell over, unconscious. The surrounding people gave a cheer, and the kids returned to Florence to continue their fun.

[mermaidsirennikita]

I rarely talk about books I actively dislike on here--not because I don't critique books (see: my ARC reviews lol) but because I generally prefer to talk about books I want people to read, but I just have to get Jo Segura's Raiders of the Lost Heart off my chest

Despite the cartoony cover that made me think it was possibly closed door (spoiler alert: it's not, I'd rate it around a 3/5 on that level) I was super excited for this because a) despite my issues with... some things and my general ambivalence on museums, I love Indiana Jones b) we need more "adventure romances", imo.

And it does get off to a good start! The hero and heroine hate each other because of some UST and grad school drama, she's super confident, he's in awe of her competence, the book has some interesting deconstructions of the "spicy Latina" stereotype.

BUT LOL.

*spoilers*

The first issue I had was that Ford, our hero, had all of these insecurities re: inadequacies in the bedroom in his last relationship, which were triggered by walking in on his girlfriend, who he often left alone for significant periods of time while he went and did archeologist things... taking care of herself. And rather than try to be like "oh hey, let's make this a fun couples' activity"/"sometimes you just gotta", he was super SHOOKETH by this. Why? He is a grown man? In his thirties at that point?

And Ford is generally shooketh, as it turns out. He's not just like, charmingly soft boy to Corrie's badass girl, which I can totally get behind. He's also so obsessed with comparing himself to her, his own general inadequacies... and he (the whitest bread white guy ever) actively used his position as the boyfriend of an influential boss guy's daughter to take opportunities from Corrie, our heroine, a woman of color who isn't taken seriously by her field despite her many accomplishments. Including the opportunity he got, a major dig she has an emotional connection to (a weird connection, but still)... when she was already essentially chosen as the leader of the dig. And then he keeps this from her for the majority of the book, including after they begin a relationship.

What???? I'm not against secret keeping in romance, I think it can be an interesting device, but when the secret has your white guy hero taking an important opportunity from the woc heroine, I just??? Especially when the heroine is a Latina with indigenous Mexican heritage and the dig is on an AZTEC site????

And then as a sidebar, not as bad but still illogical for a very logical-seeming woman, Corrie's big motivation to go on this dig isn't the glory or the credit (which I would super appreciate, make heroines ambitious and self-motivated) but primarily because she believes, based on a story her grandfather told with "documentation", that she is the direct descendant of this ancient Aztec hero whose gravesite they're trying to find. Mind you, the entire time there's doubt that this could be possible, because stories surrounding the hero are conflicting--one of them involves him being castrated before he could have children. Then, when they apparently find the hero, it turns he did have a wife and child, but the child died young, so it is unlikely (though really not impossible, who's to say this guy didn't have other kids, let's see if a DNA test is possible before we jump to conclusions and if it's not possible which is also entirely possible, YOU WOULDN'T KNOW ANYWAY) that Corrie is descended from him. Again, this descent is based entirely on stories from her dead grandfather. I can understand disappointment, but this ESTEEMED ARCHEOLOGIST who has a lot of common sense is like? Having a mini crisis over it? And she's super mad that her grandfather would "lie" to her? Like, this is equivalent to a "you are descended from Ragnar Lothbrok" or "you are descended from William the Conqueror". Sure, was it possible? Yes. Is it a great dream? Yes. But she is so practical--I can understand some emotional investment, but THIS?

But also, going back to Ford... the author naturally gives Ford the most sympathetic reasons for lying to Corrie and stealing a job that paid $1.5 MILLION. His mom is dying of cancer, he's broke because his dad basically died bankrupt, and he needs the money for an experimental treatment. It's a contrived reason that is meant to make us and Corrie forgive him. But if you take it at face value, who doesn't get doing something incredibly underhanded to save your mom's life. Artistically, this is a dumb choice and of course it doesn't completely justify his actions and absolutely, he still did a horrible thing, but you GET IT. Corrie doesn't have to forgive him, of course. Even though she clearly will based off this information.

However, her initial reaction, aside from the justifiable anger, is to basically brush off the super sick mom she's known was giving him conflict throughout this journey and has been crying over several times in front of her... And go "Ford, you know you could've come up with the money somehow".

LOL WHAT. WHAT. NO???? He's an archeologist, they make NO MONEY. Could Ford have perhaps done something to like, share this opportunity with Corrie and beg her for a little chunk of the massive payout because he needs his mom's treatment and she for sure was a good enough person to do that? Yes. Could he have just "come up" with the money? NO. And she initially doesn't have the number for the cancer treatments, but anyone with a working brain knows that the out of pocket cost for cancer treatments in America, especially experimental treatments, can be ASTRONOMICAL. And surprise, he's stuck with a $30K bill that isn't even the whole of it, and is basically for his mom to be in a special rehab center. So Corrie feels shitty. Because yes, it is absolutely ridiculous to think that this guy with a job that is essentially academic, would just be able to come up with high-cost cancer treatment money. And she is smarter than that, just like she is too smart to buy into this story her grandfather told at face value.

I just. Hate this kind of nonsense, especially when it comes from an author who can clearly write and struck a really fun tone initially. Like, I'll try out another book by Jo Segura based on that. But this? Was just so disappointing.

[wxlfkingxfthenxrth]

hotd season 1 episode 3 thoughts:

honestly crushed by dragon is a wild way to go

the screams are really up to par this season. when they castrate the guy in episode 1 he has a great guttural scream, same as this guy getting nailed

caraxes!!! my baby!!!

seeing alicent is always so sad and gross. i'm really sorry girl.

lannisters continue to be the comedic relief. true to leo form

"all i have i owe to you" hm interesting way to show it

watching young rhaenyra gut a boar vs older rhaenyra timidly play with a sword is so sad. she had so such much fire and blood in her and they stomped it out tbh. i hope she finds it again.

also i hate when people misread signs to promote their own perceptions. "the white stag is here cause of aegon!" literally Rhaenyra wasn't even gonna come... and then she AND COLE are the only ones that see it. (fuck you for that cole. you know the truth and still you deny it.)

the way alicent cheakly smiles when viserys says "dreamers" like girl. he's not taking about staying positive. Dreaming is an actual magical skill... that runs in his family. further proof she was not listening to his drunk ass lol

Viscerys then confirming he is in fact a Dreamer..

fuck okay. i've been meaning to revisit this scene of viscerys in front of the fire because it's so confusing. i think i finally get it and ... it feels like he's admitting choosing Rhaenyra was a mistake. he talks about his dream/prophecy and how he chose Rhaenyra out of grief, against daemon and because he loves her. he doesn't actually ever say it's because she's chosen or the best choice... i want to revisit his death scene with alicent again though. viscerys is turning out to be a more unreliable narrator than i ever caught on to.. will make a larger post about this on the side

how cristin is so ready to kill the white stag - TELLING

coming back all covered in blood like a boss

alicents whiny ass babies show how detached she was from the beginning

rhaenys says viscerys is no fool in ep1 and i just don't believe that lol

it's so funny how viserys is like i'm not gonna help those brats and those brats do not want his help lmao

"which man here will gladly walk to his death? show me [him] and i will show you a madman" Daemon my boy hehehehhe

the dragon helmet never gets old ugh m

i love when Daemon gets pissed but this time it's also sad. like he's about to watch his brother take another thing from him... but this time he won't let him 😈

and you know what - because of that - yeah. daemon would rather die than let him.

like he would give up dark sister lmao idiots

[shini--chan]

If you would consider a Yandere Hybrid AU for the 2p Allies, I have a couple fun ideas.

Like what if one was disgruntled by society viewing them as a pet in your care and wanted to flip the script and take control?

A pet that doesn’t like their owner leaving for work, social events, nor house needs. They’ve found a successful side gig and can bring home the bacon now. You just have to rest and let them take care of you?

Or a stray that’s tried of being out in the cold and harsh environment. Maybe it’s time for them to take what they want.

Farms would be cool too.

Like it could be a full animal farm revolution but instead of being chased off they hold you captive. The one that has you is the true farm leader.

A member of the farm is tried of working for only food and room. Maybe it was time they taught you how to properly pay your hybrid staff?

Or maybe their more wild and exotic?

A beast in a zoo or circus forced to stared at. When they can take it no longer, they meet you. Their new trainer/keeper. Someone who’s not so strict?

A rare and endangered beast that’s looking to take a mate. But with their kind so few in numbers, they remember someone said a human is a blank slate for animal genetics. The human will ensure their species lives on.

I don’t know; I thought these sounded fun. Maybe you will too.

Miss/sir, I'm kinda uncomfortable with the Hybrid part of the whole thing, so I'll pass on this. Not to mention the idea of writing people held like farm animals makes my skin crawl.

I'm sorry here tiny devil anon: At first, I told myself that I would write this, yet no matter how I rotated this in my mind, I simply couldn't get this to work. The conversation that you mentioned wouldn't go in the nsfw direction that you'd want, and rather in the direction of violent punishment, magical torture or castration.

Not a bad ask, and I usually like writing things in the political direction. It just clashes with how I like to write hetalia (nations don't have normal family dynamics, they interact with each other more like mob bosses would than normal people (most of the time) and they have plenty of reasons to hate and like each other), and by all three of they, the writing would incorperate too much propaganda to be a nice read.

Another ask that wouldn't really work as the asker intends. Either, he wouldn't let you have any outside contact to begin with due to you not loving him, or there would be death and mutilation and worse. Asides, chances are that the "for years" part wouldn't work due to him keeping such a close eye on you.

Sorting this one out as well. I'm very picky about the sexual stuff I write, and this person also resorted to bugging me in the dms.

[thekimspoblog]

FALSE.

The most ambitious crossover event happened roughly this time last year. The four magical weeks "Better Call Saul" Season 6 and "Westworld" Season 4 aired on the same days.

Or as I liked to call it... "OPERATION MARIO". Get it? Cus a couple of NiceGuys (TM) are chasing the princesses? Jimmy made it to the finish line and reunited with his love. William spent the season getting ordered around like a dog and then he fucking died, but at least he and Dolores got some closure from eachother. Joe Goldberg was disqualified early on because he straight up murdered his soulmate, and has been continuing to spiral out of control ever since.

PS: Aaron Paul's schedule must have been a nightmare those couple months both shows were being filmed.

Rita: "So sorry. I'm afraid no men are allowed beyond this point"

William aims his pistol at Rita's face: "Let me through, or I swear I'll kill you! I know you have Dolores as your prisoner"

Joe: "And Love!"

Jimmy: "And Kim! It was my fault I dragged her into this. Where have you taken her?! What are you doing to her?!"

Rita: "Ever seen any tentacle hentai? Any of you? No? Joe? Okay, well you're just lying. Point is... short answer is basically cosmic damnation. Have you ever been so depressed that your head was swimming? Time slowed down? You felt like you could see another world? Of course not! Amateurs!"

Joe: "What can I do to buy Love's freedom? It would at least be a way to begin my apology to her. For everything"

Jimmy: "Yeah, we'll do anything! Please, they don't deserve to be punished for our mistakes!"

Rita sighs, and places a freshly-sharpened cleaver on the table: "Alright... whip'em out then"

William: "Whip...?"

Rita: "Unzip your pants. Put your cocks and balls on the metal trays. Men have always been an albatross around womens' necks, just on a biological level. And there's one easy solution to this. You're all here because you thought you were such nice guys, that you were basically owed a beautiful wife who would risk life and limb to have your kids. Because we're still not equal, and there's a million little sacrifices that it's just assumed a wife would make. Roe v. Wade was overturned; the Republicans got their wish. And now... I get mine!"

After a long time thinking, Jimmy swallows hard: "Fine. I'll do it..."

William: "Yeah. Me too; it's only fair"

Joe: "Well I'm out! There's a lot of things I'd do for Love Quinn, but this isn't one of them! All told, she got herself into this!"

(Extremely graphic take goes here. Wait for the bleeding to stop)

Joe: "Alright. They did your stupid stunt, now let us through!"

Rita: "Fine by me, but I conveniently just remembered: Dolores isn't in this facility. Kim nor Love neither... God damn it!"

William: "What do you mean they're not here?!"

Rita: "I never said they were. You said they were, and I just didn't correct you, so-"

Jimmy: "Fraud! Then why would you castrate us?!"

Rita: "Because I'm not going to pass up an opportunity. It just gets funnier each time. Relax; you'll get it back. Maybe. This was just a test. A test you both failed by the way! I was not expecting it to go this way, with Joe 2-to-0-to-0. Frankly, this is depressing!"

William: "I must be blacking out from the blood loss. You're saying we did this for nothing?!"

Rita: "Yes! Because... The Maze isn't meant for you. Because you should be able to wrap your heads around the idea of playing second banana. Because the notion that you could "ruin" your girlfriend's innocence is not just outdated, it's flattering yourself, greatly overestimating your own importance. Because really, Freudian psychology is a bit played out. Acton's Axiom too, for that matter. You're all kidding yourselves to think some big strong man on a white horse is what anyone needs right now, and if we did, that you're it"

Joe: "Then where is Love?"

Rita: "It wouldn't matter. You can't save them. There's not even anything to be saved from. The ladies made their own mistakes they have to atone for. They wanted the supernatural insight this coven offers, and this is the price. If it's to feel the pull of the moon and the seasons, I say it's worth it. Not every pain is a problem to be fixed. If you mull it over, I think you'll find that you wanted me to take a cleaver to your nuts. Because anything that women have to themselves, you want too. Even when it's pain"

BARBENHEIMER - July 21, 2023

The most ambitious crossover event in history

[saschaederer]

- Since the last time that I have publicized these threats: People every now and then acting as if they're drawing a knife, when standing next to me or when I walk past them

- Occasionally since recently, a shadow moving on my wall (initially alluding to the 'Nekodamashi' (Jap: 'Trickster cat') (https://shinsekaiyori.fandom.com/wiki/Tainted_Cat) from the Anime 'Shinsekai Yori - From The New World', in which children are conditioned into Learned Helplessness since birth, through the use of such. A threat in partial reference to Delta alters of Taylor Swift as villains, in initial reference to me as a victim)

- Occasionally since recently, getting relatively intense feelings of someone standing behind me (A threat in initial reference to 'No ones' (Delta alters in this context) as villains, in initial reference to me as a victim)

- Occasionally recently, pseudo hallucinations in my peripheral vision of the black woman (in initial reference to a 'dirty' woman) on the poster on my wall, being increased in size

- Pseudo hallucination in my peripheral vision of bunny ears projected unto the red-haired woman (in initial reference to a 'Mother of Darkness' alter) on the poster on my wall (A threat in partial reference to Josie Glabach (X.com/trhlofficial) and Peer Ederer (my father) getting prostituted to each other)

- "There's a satanic inversion in that" (A threat in initial reference to my editing in of '(Let us all) resist!' in my upload here https://www.facebook.com/share/v/14uiDPzhfDz/)

- Threat published the day before, of the cover of 'Pixies - Wave of Mutilation' (https://images.app.goo.gl/FLUjJjguwQpVaRxw5): In partial reference to ("anyone") people getting castrated

- Threat published the day before, of the cover of 'Einmusik - Dune Suave' (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m81yKqlyaNI): In partial reference to me ("getting castrated")

- The titles and thumbnails of these videos https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nTeq0U_V15U, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pk5EpagxMoc ('Schneider' being German for 'Cutter', threats in initial reference to me getting castrated) - Several coded references at the start of this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2W3pxOYrxVw

- Threat published yesterday, of Jordan Peterson getting tortured: Potentially instead of ("me"), potentially for a ("lifetime")

- The beginning of 'Tatsuya Kato - Here With You' (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5pbT16G4lU) playing in my head (A threat in initial reference to Delta alters of Nadinebreaty (https://www.instagram.com/nadinebreaty) and/or Taylor Swift as villains, in initial reference to me as a victim)

- The chorus of 'Taylor Swift - Anti-Hero' (https://youtu.be/XqN2qFvY64U) playing in my head (initially alluding to what any of her front alters might be thinking. In initial reference to such having potentially commanded, negotiated or abnegated torture or castration unto me)

- 'Taylor Swift - Labyrinth' (https://youtu.be/xTXsKMXUi7w) playing in my head (In partial reference to a front alter of hers potentially being trapped inside a maze in her mind)

- Jetstreams forming an image of the lower abdomen and a vulva of a woman in the sky, while 'Taylor Swift - You're On Your Own Kid' (https://youtu.be/7Gbg6Z70J7E) playing from my speakers (A threat in initial reference to me getting castrated, in initial reference to a front alter of Taylor Swift having potentially commanded, negotiated, abnegated or perpetrating such) - The jetstream depicting the vagina, continuing to fly upwards (A threat in initial reference to Taylor Swift's lower abdomen getting severed in such a manner (potentially, instead))

- Pseudo hallucinations (luminous, lucid colors) in my peripheral vision of outlines of various eyes (for example: Rolling upwards sexually-sadistically, washed-out third eyes, some of those upside-down (a coded reference for Luciferianism essentially, among other))

- Several timer beeps in my kitchen, to a song playing from my speakers (A threat in initial reference to Josie Glabach and Peer Ederer getting prostituted to each other (and her subsequently commanding, negotiating, abnegating or perpetrating murder unto him)

- The beginning of https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WxoYNnF53gg faintly insinuated in my head (initially alluding to a video with this song which I occasionally saw on X, of someone picking up used chewing gum from the ground, washed, resized and repackaged them and put them into the store. A threat in initial reference to me getting tortured (potentially, for a lifetime), in initial reference to Jordan Peterson having potentially commanded, negotiated, abnegated or perpetrating such)

- "Deal" - Mental image of Jordan Peterson laughing evilish (A threat in initial reference to him getting shot (potentially, instead of me))

- Mental image of Jordan Peterson looking at me, ("angry") firm

- "Pirates of the Caribbean" - "("psyop") linked to me"

- Momentarily projecting Taylor Swift unto Heather Baron-Gracie in her yellow costume in this video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-nQessUrdk0 - This top comment https://imgur.com/a/sXLSPaO (in initial reference to active Delta alters of Taylor Swift currently. Note: 'Color' can be a coded reference for the degree to which anyone believes, experiences or lives in an illusion)

- The groceries deliveryman having delivered me two tomatoes instead of the one which I ordered, last week (initially alluding to the German proverb 'Do you have tomatoes on your eyes?', used when accusing one of being ("color") blind) - This video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BvHCpWixZRA having been recommended to my YouTube Feed (Threats in initial reference to me getting blinded and/or a threat in partial reference to me getting tortured ('Burger' having often been used as a coded reference for such and/or a threat in partial reference to Taylor Swift raping and/or torturing children (SRA, sodomy of wounds) (fries, dips, nachos etc., having often been used as a coded reference for such)

- https://youtu.be/IHU7zg2CxoU?si=QwGRP_PLKHeU3XoZ&t=332 (Magnus Carlsen insinuating, or the system modifying his audio in such a manner that he seemingly said ‚if we, you know, die one gets first and the other gets second.‘ A coded reference for torture, among other. In initial reference to Jordan Peterson and/or me)

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REPORTS:

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PLEASE READ:

How I handle threats I receive (Last Update: 8. 1. 2024):