#look the old video quality is SO BAD
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do you think tennis tv would upload some old 250/500 finals if i asked really really really nicely
#'some old finals' which ones tumblr user alacants#normal ones.#buenos aires 2010 acapulco 2010 valencia 2012. you know.#look the old video quality is SO BAD#how am i supposed to laboriously gif with this
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sorry about that last rambling post, i didnt mean to sound like its worse than it may be, but i got no ... lense to view it through but my own, and the main reason i wrote it out anyway was bc i needed to get it out (even if posting it might be not the greatest idea) .. and bc it kinda showcases, i think, how my stories kinda write themselves, involuntarily in a way? its not like im not putting in any effort- but its like .. i cant STOP it always keeps going and even the dumbest idea stays in some form, its very hard to get everything in place bc theres so much going on all the while i am very slow at making anything, writing or drawing anything, especially anythign coherent is very hard bc not only do i get constantly distracted, i get distracted by my own thoughts suddendly skipping to a certain scene and me having to go throguh imagining in detail NO MATTER how many times i have done it before for the same scene that i already decided on how it goes, when theres a new idea it can take over my entire day bc i cant let go of it-
not trying to sound either like im the only that has that sort of problem, but i think its a big part as of why i start tso many projects without being able to finish them, or even start them bc i constantly have to fight my own thoughts from derailing into another daydream session, thinking of too much too fast than i can ever draw or even write about and not knowing what is worthwhile and what isnt (im telling you i have no idea what is good and what isnt, idk why but for all i know all things i do could be trash, or they all could be bad, maybe the one i thinnk is decent is actually worse than the things i deem not good enough and once i start to think no this isnt good enough i stop having fun making or thinking it bc im trying to do better
honestly its kind of impressive that i can get anything out at all, not to pat myself on the back there but even if i hate how long it takes me, considering how much im having to work just to start working on something at all, the fact that i could post stuff coherent enough for some people to understand AND LIKE is something i should be a little more proud of
#ganondoodles talks#personal#sorry today is a bit of a brain fart day#got a headache and have wasted the entire time until now (5pm) with watching old analysis videos i have watched 5 times already#and crying over undertales music#how much could i get done if i didnt have to deal with thought trains going 200 above speed limit#also didnt mean to sound mean to people who like the things i deem cringy#BC I DONT KNOW WHAT IM TALKIGN ABOUT 90% OF THE TIME#I DONT KNOW IF ITS GOOD maybe it is#my judgement of my own stuff is pretty random#.... maybe thats why i can work with fanstuff that adheres to lore better#bc it sets limits for me#it gives me options of rails to derail onto without falling straight into the woods#idk if that made sense either#... i need to start drinking more#(and i guess by calling some of my stuff cringe bc i am entirely unsure of its quality im trying to make myself smaller than i am)#(so if it turns out to be actually bad- im more safe from ridicule since LOOK I AM SELF AWARE)#and there i go letting my thoughts spin further#maybe ill delete both of these posts tomorrow when i realize how dumb this is to say in the first place
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thinking about this stuff just made me feel so damn old (and I'm only 32). like, when I was a teenager I couldn't just look at high quality pictures and especially not videos of any celebrity I liked. if it was music related and I was lucky (whoever it was happened to be popular enough in Germany), I might have seen a music video (and recorded it on VHS so I could watch it again). if it was an actor I could buy DVDs, at least (but that's not that easy if you're poor, and you also had to get somewhere where you could buy them in the first place).
the internet still kinda feels magical when I compare it to that.
#... whereas now I can just look at a music video in which Corey Taylor is pole dancing. any time I want!!! 15 year old me would not have#believed it#(and: I was definitely a good few years behind on what was the standard for that bc we had incredibly slow internet access until I moved#when I was 19. so yeah I literally didn't have access to any of that until I was basically 20. it's so weird to think about.)#like. I lost my fucking mind when I was able to buy a DVD with all HIM music videos on it. that was so cool to me. I watched that thing so#much. lol#also! the quality of everything was so bad compared to now. like. my TV was tiny and also shit. dvd quality is shit. you could barely see#anything! whereas now... (yes I'm thinking about Corey Taylor pole dancing again)#(and I've got an absurdly huge amount of pictures of [that stupid man that I like] just. saved on my phone. i can look at him anytime I#want. that's so fucking crazy. man I really am old.)
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Cabernet
This can be read as a standalone I think, but! Here is a second part of Merlot! It's spicy and sweet so I hope you guys like it. Unsure if there will be any more parts (I’m open if you guys have more ideas!) but I do love a good dilfrry.
Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings!
WC- 4.1k
Warnings- smut, age gap relationship, anal (for those who asked ur welcome!), unprotected sex, cumplay, Dom/sub elements
-------
Harry was by far the best man she had ever dated.
Their age gap was evident at times, but not in a bad way. It was rather cute when he had been confused about videos she sent or his own excitement to show her the movies or books he was referencing. The added element of their dynamic was learning from one another. Harry had been teaching her about publishing and helping her flesh out the first draft of her book while she sat in his office some days, helping him out in return by getting him coffee or lunch or an occasional shoulder massage when he got particularly stressed. An unofficial assistant of sorts.
“I feel like if I have to write the word ‘said’ one more time, my brain is going to explode.” She grumbled, pushing her laptop across the couch and leaning back on it. The leather seat in his office was by far the most comfortable one she had sat on and he happily invited her to come into the office to see him as often as she wanted. It was both practical and selfish on both ends.It was easier to work in a space like this and with the understanding that Harry really did have work he was doing, she focused on her own stuff. A quiet pair of people working in each other’s company.
Add in the fact that he was the boss man, it made it much easier for her to come and go as she pleased.
“Mm, sometimes authors get stuck with words in their novels. They’ll have phrases they repeat a few too many times, usually gets called out in editing and fixed. It’s not a bad thing. But with words that are action words like that, there are options. Y’know, depending on the scene and tone. Murmured, muttered, peeped, whispered, whined, moaned, huffed, grumbled. Those sorts of words.” He tapped his pen against the desk as he lifted his eyes to her.
It didn’t get old. Seeing her pretty face sitting in his office looking the way she did, much more comfortable than the night they’d first met, but still appropriate for an office setting.
Sometimes he did let his mind wander into the roleplay aspect, wondering if she had been his real assistant if he would have made a move. If Y/N was the Y/N he knew now? Probably. Scandalous.
Today she wore a pair of black flowy pants and a matching turtleneck, but on top she had a chunky knit cardigan that was utterly adorable. It had yellow moons and stars, a deep purple color with sleeves she had to push up so they didn’t hide her hands. His girl leaned into the office aesthetic when she came in so she didn’t stick out too much but with him or when they were at his place or out together, he loved seeing her dressed in her normal clothing. She looked soft, whimsical almost. Like a little fairy.
“Hm. Good point. I need to write down all the synonyms in my notes app and defer to that because if I’m getting tired of writing it, I know whoever ends up reading it will get tired of seeing it too.” Her lips puffed to blow a strand of hair that had fallen from her bun, brows furrowed as she failed and made her hand ready up to tuck it behind her ear instead.
Again, cute.
“Not necessarily.” He replied, leaning back in his chair. “We’re our own harshest critics. I doubt they’re paying that much attention to that. The majority of people will be paying attention to world building, character development, plot, sex scenes, all that fun stuff. The exact wording isn’t always the most important thing. But it shows that you care about quality.” He shot her a grin. “So you will be successful.”
“Mmm… and not because I’m fucking the publishing head?” She grinned as she stood up, stretching her arms out.
“Well. That helps.” He wouldn’t deny it. She had a leg up, but he wouldn’t publish just anything. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t publish shit work. It isn’t worth the reputation of my company. Your writing is genuinely good, my sweet.” He knew the drill by now. Her heeled boots were kicked off by the couch and she made her way over to him, the tiredness starting to hit her as she happily perched herself on his lap.
“Good to know.” She snorted before pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. The facial hair had grown but he was shaping it currently. She promised she’d be okay with whatever he did to it but didn’t want anything to happen to the mustache. That wasn’t allowed to go. “What are you working on? Anything fun?”
“No, nothing incredibly interesting I’m afraid.” His hand squeezed her hip underneath the cardigan. “I was working on some contracts earlier but every so often I pick up some submissions and read through them myself. This one is very bland, unfortunately. There’s potential, absolutely. Their writing style is lovely, but the plot falls flat and the characters are one dimensional. S’like they chose a specific stereotype and did nothing to differentiate them.” It was unfortunate.” It was a shame he came across all too often.
“It’s obvious this person is trying but they’ve never observed or met someone with these traits. I don’t think you absolutely have to follow the rule ‘write what you know’, but I think a lot of the best works come from drawing from our own experiences. Romance, for them, doesn’t seem to be a passion. They’d do better with mystery with their writing style as it is, but they have to improve on other aspects first.”
“Is it hard for you to see stuff like that?” She asked curiously, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I can tell you’re a little disappointed with it, so I have to wonder if it happens a lot.”
“It does. And it is hard when you see someone with potential not living up to it but I have faith that if we send them some constructive criticism notes that maybe they won’t see it as an attack but as a place of genuine care. I’m going to have someone meet with them I think, give them my notes and have them explain it in nicer terms than the plain ones I used. Maybe they can work on it again and add more and we’d have a best seller.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can see they care about it in the way they put details in, but it needs more.”
There was something incredibly attractive about listening to him talk about it. It was always attractive to see someone care and talk about their passions; but Harry was on another level. She could see it on his face that he was disappointed and knew the person could do better. While it made it all the more nerve wracking for her own novel, she had him working with her along the way.
He never told her where to go with her story in terms of ideas, but how to improve the mechanics. Reading over bits and telling her to take away a certain detail and add more in other places, or giving suggestions about how things could flow smoother. He’d listened to her storyboard, after showing her the author equivalent of it, and gave his honest feedback from a publisher's point of view and then from a boyfriend’s point of view.
Sometimes it was more obvious that he was the one with miles more life experience in these instances but she couldn’t be upset about it when it only aided in strengthening their relationship.
“I see.” She looked at the manuscript on the desk with the red pen of doom. “Oof. The red pen is out… and you’ve used it a lot.”
“Well, there are errors.” He chuffed, kissing her cheek in return. “Did you get enough done?” The word count goal had been 3,000 for today, but he didn’t make it for her. It was all on her. He simply helped keep her accountable.
“I did more. I think… 4.5?” She tilted her head trying to remember. “Now my head feels like soup.” It did feel like mush right now. That was why the laptop was closed and abandoned and she was finding comfort in the man. It was like a reward.
“That’s ace, my dove. Amazing.” He praised. The pride he felt for her was earned fair and square. She had been applying herself more now than ever. Since their first night together they hadn’t really separated, seeing each other at least a few times a week. Her work ethic was there as she had zeroed in on what she wanted. “Why don’t we finish this up and go back to mine, mm?”
Harry had been holding off all week. He’d gone a bit rough one night and even though she said she was fine, he wanted to give her body time to relax. As much as he loved sex, he had wanted her body to enjoy it more than anything else. Not be overly swollen and sore the next day.
Today was going to be the day to break that. A full week of nothing but heated kisses, and she was as needy as needy could get. He felt her perk up at the mention, sitting up straighter in his lap.
“Please! Let’s go. We can get food on the way home but I think we have some pressing matters to attend to.” She sniffed, standing from him and offering a hand to help him up. “Chop chop. Get a move on, mister.”
——-
Two rounds in and he knew she could take it. Her poor cunt was a mess and he knew that as pretty as it was all drippy and swollen, she had been aching for him to get a try into her other hole. They’d had a proper discussion about it, and he had effectively been edging her the entire night. Fair? No, but she knew how he rolled. The promised pleasure first, experiments after. Just in case she wanted to stop, she got something out of the night.
She’d been warming his cock for a bit as he held her in his arms, cooing soft praises about how good of a girl she was, how brave she had been to ask for something new tonight when he felt her get impatient. She didn’t need to say it. He knew her well enough now to understand what she wanted. Pulling his cock out and rubbing the tip against her asshole, pressing against it and spreading the sticky cum over the rim. “Want me t’fuck this tight little ass too? Fill you from both ends."
“Wanna try.” She nodded, panting as her cunt contracted and his cum dribbled out of her pussy. “You’re so big I… I dunno if I can take it. Go slow.” Y/N knew she was slightly cock drunk but she also trusted him. He’d made her feel good already, took his time with everything else why wouldn’t she want to test this with him?
“Okay, my sweet. Just relax.” Harry wasn’t nervous, but he was cautious. His girl was precious cargo, and he wanted to make sure it felt as good as it could. He’d done the work of stretching her with his fingers, but it was going to be a challenge to get him in there regardless. He slowly pushed his thick head past the tight rim of her back hole. Watching her face intently, his own contorted with pleasure. "You're doing so good, doll," he encouraged softly. "Just relax and let me in. You can take it."
The pressure was intense, and she hissed out a breath as he slowly pushed more and more of himself into her. His thick head stretched her wide, and he paused, letting her adjust to the new sensation. "Breathe." The reminder was whispered as he realized she was holding her breath, his hand carding through her hair tenderly.
"That's it, baby. You're taking it so well. Always do so good f’me." He praised, his voice low and soothing. He slowly pushed more of himself into her, inch by inch, his thick prick spreading her wide. She could feel every vein, every ridge, as he slowly filled her up.
As he slid deeper, Harry could feel the intense pressure and stretch around his girth. Her tight little hole was gripped tightly around his shaft, the muscles fluttering and contracting as he pushed his way inside. She felt like she was being split in two, her body struggling to accommodate his bigger size- but she was. Slowly but surely, he sunk into her fully.
She had done it.
“Fuck.” She sobbed out, clinging to him as he got down to the base. Never in her life had she felt so full that way, so stretched. Only Harry could make her feel this way. It wasn’t just the physical feeling, but the emotional one too. She trusted him more than she trusted anyone else. His guidance was priceless.
"You're doing so good, You’ve got it all in. Jus’ gotta let it adjust." he soothed, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. Giving her a moment to adjust, his hands stroking her hair and her cheeks, his thumb brushing away her tears. "You feel so hot around me, doll. So tight. Knew y’would be."
“I wanna be… I want you to feel good.” She whispered, looking at him with wet eyes. “It’s just so big. I’m tryin’ to take it.” It surely wasn't a beginner cock but she wasn’t known for taking the easy way.
"You're doing so well, baby," he reassured her, his hands never leaving her. He slowly pulled out halfway before sinking in again, a little faster this time. "That's it... take me all the way in."
It was the fourth time he did it that she felt the pleasure. Both from the action and the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against her swollen clit, making her gasp. Her eyes fell shut as she leaned her head back, slowly relaxing into the bed.
He watched her face contorted in pleasure, his heart swelling with pride. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough. As she opened her eyes, he began to pick up the pace, his hips pressing against hers. "M’so proud of you. Look at you, taking every bit of me.”
Y/N sent him a blissed out smile as her hand slipped between them, rubbing her own clit slowly as he fucked into her ass. There was nothing rushed about it, nothing frantic, and it felt good just to be. Her muscles relaxed, making it feel even better as his cock filled her hole. Soft moans left her mouth as she curled her other hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so he was close. “Are they the best holes you’ve had?”
Harry’s face was lax in his own pleasure as he felt her tight ass clench around his cock. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his breath hot against her lips. “They are. So fucking tight, so perfect. Can’t compare them t’anything else.” He kept up his steady rhythm, loving how her body moved with his. “You feel so good. Can never get enough of you.” He whispered, brushing a stray hair out of her face before stroking her puffy lip. They were so pretty. Kissing wasn’t something he’d thought much of before, but he hadn’t kissed Y/N. She had changed everything for him.
“Better than that silly ex wife?” She prodded, watching with a little smirk as she watched him think it over. Y/N had a feeling she was by the way be was acting, but she wanted to hear it.
"Way better." he grunted, his hips snapping forward. "Little minx, y’just need to ask that, hm? No need to be jealous. She never gets t’have me again. Only y-you." He stuttered as her hand moved around his neck and she squeezed down hard on him. "Her holes were nothing compared to yours, doll. Nothing."
Y/N giggled as she choked him a little bit, watching his eyes widen before pulling. It was obvious that while he was the big man in charge- she could have fun too. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll tell you a secret, Harry.” Her lips brushed his as she kept the grip on his throat. Her lips were swollen and sensitive, the coarse facial hair brushing it and making her want to moan. “None of the boys my age have ever made me cum. They never fucked my ass. Never fucked me raw. And you did it all.”
"And I'm gonna keep doing it," he rumbled, eyes burning with lust as she kissed him. His hand tightened in her hair, tugging gently and pulling her deeper into the kiss. “You’ve got a man now, no need to think of those boys.You want me t’keep being nice to you? Keep making you cum?”
“If you keep fucking me like this, I do. Want my man to be so, so nice to me.” She gasped as he pushed all the way in, balls rested snug against her ass as he slowly humped into her, the comfort of the fullness making her fingers work harder on her clit. “Gotta- Gotta prove you can keep up with me, old man. That you c-can live up to the hype. I like the bit of silver at your temples but…” Her moan was broken as he pulled out and pushed back in, jostling her. “Gotta prove why older guys are b-better for pretty little things like me.”
"Oh, I'll prove it to you," he growled, picking up pace as he pounded into her tight ass. She had no idea just how badly he’d needed her to walk into his life. Thank god she had. This was everything he had ever wanted. "And right now, you need me to wreck this little hole until you can't walk straight. You need me to show you how a real man handles his woman. I'll give you everything you crave, everything you need. You just have to let go and trust me.” The man had every intention of proving how much better he could be for her than she could ever imagine.
"Fuck, look at this cunt." He muttered, reaching down to spread her dripping pussy apart. "It's absolutely soaked, just dripping down. Love it, hm?” The smugness in his tone would usually make her scowl but there was no denying it. The proof was right there. It was undeniable. “You're so turned on, baby. It's making it easier for me to fuck this tight little ass of yours." The glossy, hard flesh glistened with slick, dripping down onto the bed beneath her. His own cum intermingled with her own, making his movements smoother as he pushed in and out of her, coating her holes with their combined essence.
Her face was a mask of pure ecstasy, her eyes rolled back in her head as she whimpered in pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. Her asshole clenching and unclenching around his thick cock with each thrust, trying to milk him for all he was worth. Her body was feeling tingly, her legs trembling as he fucking into her ass, the sound of her arousal and his hips hitting her skin filling the room. She was completely lost in the pleasure, her mind clouded by the overwhelming sensation of being thoroughly fucked.
As she reached the peak of her orgasm, he took over and began rubbing her clit with his own thumb, the sensation sending waves of pleasure cascading through her body. She cried out, her pussy gushing as she came harder than she would have imagined being fucked like this. She was so overwhelmed that she could only hold limply onto his arms as he continued to pound into her, his thick cock stretching her hole as it thrust through the waves of her intense orgasm.
His face contorted, vein bulging in his neck as he struggled to hold back. "You feel too good, baby. I can't... I can't hold back any longer." His heavy balls drew up close to his body, ready to unleash another load inside of her. The feeling of her taut muscles milking him, the way she clung to him with every fiber of her being, it was too much. He was sensitive himself, but he wanted to deliver everything she wanted.
"Please, Harry...Please,come inside me... I wanna feel you fill me up. Want it everywhere." She panted, her voice desperate with need. Half of the fun of sex was seeing him lose that control he so easily held in all other scenarios. She wanted to make him feel just as good as he made her feel. He deserved it.
His restraint shattered at her words. "Fuck, you're gonna get what you asked for."
With a guttural groan, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and let go, his hot load pulsing into her hole in thick ropes. She felt each ribbon scalding her , marking her as his. "That's it, take it all... That’s m’girl.” He kept cumming, his cock twitching as he filled her. Ribbon after ribbon filled her up until she was overflowing with his load, almost overwhelmingly so. He finally slowed, his chest heaving, before gently pulling out of her ass, his cock glistening with the evidence of their fuck.
With a sense of possessive pride, he watched as his cum began to leak out of her stretched hole, dripping down her thighs. It was satisfying in the filthiest way. Primal and caveman in every sense of the word, he loved knowing that he had done it. He’d taken every one of her holes and made her his in the dirtiest type of way. He gently spread her cheeks apart, admiring the sight of his mark leaking from her. "Look at that... You're so full of me, S’that what you wanted?”
“Mhm.” She smiled, slightly drunk on the orgasm and the fact that he had pushed her further than anyone else had before. it was a good feeling in her body, the beginnings of soreness and the calming heat of his hands as he caressed her the way he wanted. “Exactly what I wanted. Think M’gonna have to keep you around so we can do that again.”
“I’d hope so.” He laughed tiredly, pushing back down to take her mouth for another kiss. “I’m far from finished with you, sweet little thing. But I think I’ve ravaged your body enough. Think you need a bath and some tea, get you ready to sleep.”
Aftercare wasn’t something she’d experienced in any other relationship either, but she realized now it was probably a Harry exclusive thing. He was phenomenal at it. A lot of things, honestly. He experimented with her responsibly, took care of her after every round of sex, checked in on her, made sure she was eating proper meals, and helped her with her career. She’d lucked out with him. Whatever his ex wife was thinking, she had no clue- but she wasn’t about to waste a single bit of him.
“Do you have chamomile?” She asked softly, pecking his lips in return.
“What do you take me for? Course I’ve got it.” He scoffed, pinching her chin. “But if I didn’t, I’d find some for you. Know it’s your favorite. Added it to the grocery list, along with your cereal, your rancid battery acid energy drinks, and the sweet and salty popcorn.”
“It’s good battery acid, I’ll have you know.” She giggled, carding her fingers through his hair. He did have a bit of gray going on the temples but it was sexy. Just hearing how much he cared and put effort into the tiny things made her giddy.
“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about your poison in the morning. It’s time to get clean and go t’sleep. Tomorrow may be the day you write five thousand words. You never know.”
#jarofstyles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#harry styles au#harry styles fic#harry one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles age gap#dilfrry#Merlot#soft Harry
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Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time: Part 1
Part 2! G/N. 3.2k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists
"How old are you?"
"20."
Press X for doubt, you think, and that's the exact meme you send over on chat.
"20 like 20 or 20 like you're mid 30s and planning your mid life crisis 20?"
You know you're being rude and making a terrible first impression. It's the first day of a new school year, of a new school in fact, and for some reason the class is held on video call and you're all forced to pair off with a classmate for an icebreaker introduction.
It’s already cringe worthy and awkward enough, icebreakers must have been created as a form of torture. To add insult to injury, you're sure this guy is bullshitting you.
"I'm 20." He deadpans.
Momentarily, you’re stunned into silence. It stretches almost a tad too long before you manage to choke out, “My bad. Sorry."
Wow. You're torn between thinking that's a rough 20, this guy has easily got 40 years under his belt and oh no, when is your puberty and hormones gonna kick in like that.
And that's also the exact moment this 20 year old Gun Park takes a drag on a cigarette and you decide that it's definitely a rough 20.
"So what do you do for fun?" You probe, and you have the distinct feeling he might say something like alimony, planning his third marriage, investing in the stock market - whatever someone in their 50s might say but-
To your surprise and glee, his body language turns shifty.
He likes to game he says, like it's a dirty little secret. Amongst other things. Mentions something about training and martial arts and you fight to keep a straight face as it turns out you were also right about investing in shares and the stock market.
Gaming, however, is what you latch on to.
"Cute. I bet I could kick your ass."
"Oh yeah?"
"Oh yes."
And this is how you ended up at 4am on a school night, playing Tekken with your new classmate and getting your ass kicked.
"One more!" You screech down the mic, after the KO sign appears on screen, mumbling something about cheating and how if you can time this combo just right-
There's a huff of laughter coming through your tinny headphones and an amused "Fine."
.
.
Dark circles under your eyes grow. It's been a week of straight losses.
You blame the sleep deprivation on Gun Park, though really you have your own stubbornness to blame.
He never tends to say much during the gaming sessions apart from the odd expletive and you rant enough after each of your defeats for the both of you.
Sometimes this will earn you a chuckle and he will snidely add that you asked for this, you were the one who was supposed to kick his ass. This would piss you off enough for another game or three in the hopes of defeating him and getting to gloat.
Which unfortunately has not happened yet.
With a sigh, you hope your camera quality this morning is bad enough and pixelated enough that your poor sleep habits don't show.
You scan over your classmates, the few that have their camera turned on and find him.
Gun looks completely fine. He looks completely fine in what must be 4k and ugh, you scrunch your nose up in annoyance.
You keep an eye on him through the class. Observe how he's usually paying rapt attention, scribbling and typing up notes every now and then.
It's impressive how studious he is.
In comparison, you're daydreaming. Thinking about lunch, other combos or characters to play to counter his own when you catch on to the back end of a sentence as your teacher mentions ‘this’ is something to pay attention to as it will be on the pop quiz.
Huh? You blink a couple times. What is ‘this’? Unfortunately she swiftly moves onto another topic.
You type out a direct message to the only person you know.
You: I missed that, what did she just say?
Gun: You should have been paying attention.
You: Fuck you man!
You see his eyes dip to the bottom of the camera screen, briefly moving as he presumably reads your message.
He smirks.
That night he kicks your ass again.
Then as consolation, reveals what will be on the pop quiz.
.
.
If Gun looked like that in 4k, nothing could prepare you for how he looked in real life.
You're setting up your laptop and notepad in the classroom, the first actual in-person session, when someone takes a seat next to you.
Initially you feel a surge of irritation that they could have sat anywhere else and chose to sit next to you, then you look at the offender and-
Hold on.
You double, triple-take-
Is that?
It must be.
Shit.
It's fucking Gun Park.
You don't entirely regret your initial comments on his looks because this guy definitely does not look 20 but goddamn he looks-
He chooses that moment, when your jaw is on the floor, to turn to you and give you a nod of acknowledgement.
"Y/N."
"H-hi." You manage, and even to your ears it sounds like a simpering fool.
He must have thought so too if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.
The cherry on top is that you expected this guy to smell like stale smoke, instead all you get is fresh laundry and something faintly dark and heady like leather and cedarwood.
Fuck.
Control yourself, a disapproving voice in your head says. Even that sounds vaguely like Gun.
It does nothing to stop your wandering gaze, peering at him in your periphery when you think he's not looking.
After you have taken your chance to not so discreetly run your eyes up and down his form, the only thing that makes you feel better is his hair. Because yeah he might be hot, but holy shit that must be a gallon of hair gel in there.
.
.
The other thing, as it turns out, that makes you feel a lot better is that he doodles.
It’s utterly charming.
Someone like Gun Park doesn't look like he doodles, but in between lines of his chicken scratch (seriously, who can even read that), there's little stick figures.
Maybe all the time you thought he was being studious he was just drawing-
Wait. You squint at the picture.
Is this guy for real?
"Are they fucking?" You whisper, using your pen to point at the page.
He doesn't answer straight away. There's a moment of surprise as he reacts like this is another secret of his he has unwittingly let you in on before his nostril flares and his eyes narrow and you grin in response.
Your grin grows when he grits out an answer. "No. Fighting."
He doesn't call you a dumbass but you can hear it loud and clear tacked on at the end.
"Whatever, pervert." You counter. You guess if you squint even harder then you suppose they could be fighting. Although the way one is lying on top of another is very suggestive. You don't hesitate to point that out to him.
Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.
.
.
Even without a seating plan, one forms.
Places taken by chance on the first day becomes a regular arrangement.
You exchange a few words with your classmates, familiarise yourself somewhat with their names and faces. Pieces of their backstory, why they're here studying for a GED but take your spot next to Gun regardless.
No one really talks to him, you've heard them saying he's menacing and intimidating. Yet when your first encounter of him was mistaking him as someone about to hit mid life crisis, how intimidating can he really be.
Besides, he still doodles his lewd figures that he insists are not in any way shape or form comprising sexual positions. So no, you don't find him intimidating at all.
.
.
Gun, as you have come to know, is a man of few words. He is also unsurprisingly not great at literature.
What you don't yet know is he likes to say what he means and mean what he says. His patience only extends to The Art of War, so all the flowery prose and poetry only serves to irritate him.
If Gun glared at you the way he's currently glaring at the textbook, you think you may either burst into tears or burst into flames.
Luckily you do neither of those things but you do take pity on him. Leaning over, you ask him quietly if he needs help.
He doesn't respond but the pen he's clutching in his right hand snaps in half.
Alright then.
Half an hour later, when the class empties out you ask Gun to follow you to the library.
He hesitates, and you add "if you've got time" to give him an out. In the end he doesn't take it and trudges obediently after you.
You very quickly learn that he really doesn't like literature. You're explaining and working him through the analysis and also mildly offended at the bored look on his face.
"This is a waste of time," he interjects and there's a sullen undercurrent to his words.
"Just memorise the analysis then." Exasperation tinges your tone, "That's all you need to do to pass."
He arches a brow at your words.
"They're testing your memory. So just remember what our teacher says."
There's an angry air of resignation as Gun nods, and you slide your notes over for him to copy.
.
.
Not long after, you have your first minor evaluation on the literature material.
You notice during the test that while the vein in Gun’s temple is prominent and he’s clutching his (new) pen tighter, there’s barely any pause as he fills in the answers.
A few days later, the graded papers are handed back. There's a sigh of relief from Gun.
He gives you a smile, small and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corner.
"You owe me one," you tell him jokingly though he takes it to heart and gives you a stern nod.
.
.
Gun repays his debt, with a coffee.
He places the paper cup on the desk in front of you. Logo of the coffee house to the side but still visible. It's new, expensive, and there’s regular lines around the block.
Of course it would be from there.
The issue is, who repays a debt with an espresso. He didn’t even ask for your drink of choice!
"Thanks for this thimble of coffee," you remark as Gun sniffs in distaste at your comment, placing his own matching cup in front of him and saying something about how it's the best untainted way to drink it.
Of course he would also be a coffee snob.
You tell him you usually like it with a bit more cream and a lot more sugar and he mutters that you sound like Goo.
You think that's an insult.
"Well, at least Goo has good taste," you snipe back with a grin.
Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.
.
.
You: Are you doodling or actually writing notes?
You: Cos on camera you look very studious but I’ve seen your notepad
Gun: None of your business
You: Still drawing your disgusting pornographic stick men then
Gun: They are not-
Gun: Whatever
.
.
You: Ok, maybe that espresso wasn’t terrible
Gun: I know
You: Who’s Goo anyway?
Gun: …
Gun: No-one
You: Suuuure
.
.
You: Tekken tonight?
Gun: Aren’t you tired of getting your ass kicked?
You: >:(
.
.
You: Do you wanna go over the new lit material in the library this week?
Gun: Ok
.
.
Gun: Thanks for your help
You: :)
.
.
Gun: You’re tired. You should game less.
You: Spoken like a coward!
Gun: Dumbass
You: Hey!!
.
.
Gun: I’ll bring you an espresso tomorrow. You need it.
You: Does it have to be an espresso?
Gun: Yes
You: …Thanks
.
.
To anyone else, the figure standing in the doorway is just smoking. To you, it suspiciously looks like they’re waiting.
It's not a crime. Gun Park can wait for whatever or whoever he wants.
What really throws you off is his smoking. You've seen him casually take one single drag before throwing the whole cigarette away. Even to you, it seems like a waste.
However, this time he smokes one all the way to the filter before stubbing it out. Then does the same to a second, and third.
Strange, very strange.
You approach him. Taking gentle steps, in case he might get spooked and bolt which is really a ridiculous notion for someone like him. Nevertheless, you keep your footsteps light, yourself clearly in view and you wander over to him.
"Hey," you say, with a somewhat forced smile. He doesn't acknowledge your greeting apart from a brief nod.
"... Everything ok?"
It's a perfectly normal question to ask but a vastly bizarre one for Gun. He doesn't look like the type of person where people casually enquire about his well being.
He must have thought so too if the look he gives you is anything to go by.
In response, he stubs out his cigarette (his fourth!) then asks, stilted and stiffly, if you want to come back to his for a game of Tekken.
At least that's what you interpret as he seems to be crazy cryptic.
"Are you interested in Tekken?"
"...Yes." You wonder what on earth this question is because did you hallucinate all those games you played together?
"Then meet me. After class."
"Where? Here?"
"No. At mine."
"Where's that?"
"..."
He gives you another look, as if you're the one trying to coax a secret out of him despite him offering.
Gun dips forward, murmurs quietly into your ear his address and some vague directions like it's highly confidential information.
You nod along, thinking what is with this guy.
.
.
So firstly, what the fuck.
Then secondly, what the fuck.
Don't think you hadn't noticed the designer brands Gun wears. If they're fakes, they're very convincing fakes. But you're almost certain they have got to be counterfeit when he brought you over to a junkyard claiming this is where he lives.
You've seen films like this. Granted, it's less in a junkyard and more in the middle of nowhere in America where college kids meet their gruesome ends in fantastical ways.
You never thought this would happen to you. You have sorely miscalculated.
Is this Gun Park (if that even is his real name) going to butcher you and leave your body on top of a pile of scrap metal in the corner?
Instead of a night of gaming where you’re the one KO-ing him, he’s actually the one that’s going to chase you around wearing a mask and wielding a knife or axe?
"You’re here. Come in," Gun says, opening his front door just as your inner monologue begins to truly spiral out of control and you're considering doing a runner.
"Eh?" You grunt like an idiot, not noticing when the shack appeared nor when you stepped onto his porch, or the side eyes Gun had been giving you.
He gives you another look, likely regretting inviting you at all, and leaves the door ajar for you to either enter or turn back and go home.
.
.
"This is... nice," you lie, through the skin of your teeth.
Gun sees cleanly through your white lie and exhales a huff of amusement.
It's sparse. Peeks of luxury here and there - the extensive PC gaming rig, the entertainment system and consoles, to name a few.
Apart from that, it's barely a home.
"Take a seat." He offers, and it sounds more like an order. Obediently you sit on his sofa, feeling very much a guest.
"You're not in danger," he says, bemused at how awkward you are in his domain, how tense you hold yourself.
'That's exactly what a killer would say,' you think and when you hear a low chuckle, you realise that you said it aloud.
"Don't worry," Gun reassures and it doesn’t really help before he strides off to somewhere in his house and leaves you sitting alone.
He returns back minutes later as you’re in the middle of admiring his entertainment set up and going through his vinyl collection (because obviously someone like Gun has vinyls) with a coffee for you that looks much more milky and to your taste than the usual ones he offers.
“Thanks.” you take your drink and return back to your seat.
Taking the first sip, you finally manage to relax. Sinking into a sofa that is much more comfortable than at first glance and you take in your surroundings a bit more.
Sort of. You actually take in Gun Park more.
He’s casual, in a way you have never seen or even considered. Dressed in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, hair floppy and the only styling is done with his hands running through his hair now and then to keep it back.
Even during the online classes, he is usually dressed up in an open collared shirt.
If you thought he was hot before, it’s nothing compared to now. There’s an air of domesticity, the drink he made for you cradled in your hands, and the distinct feeling that not many people have had the luxury to see Gun in his natural habitat, so intimate and vulnerable.
You wonder if this is how he looks all those nights you’ve been gaming together.
You catch his eyes, having been caught checking him out and he raises his eyebrows at your blatant staring.
Blood rushes to your cheeks as he chuckles into his own espresso and takes a sip.
.
.
"Holy shit, I won!"
You're familiar with the KO screen. What you're not familiar with is being on the side of victory. You're usually a hair trigger away from rage quitting, from throwing a tantrum down the mic.
Finally. All your hard work has paid off. Time spent thinking of combos, attacks and defences (which would have been better spent studying) is coming to fruition.
You peer over to Gun, expect the controller he is clutching to maybe have been crushed into pieces with his freakish strength. Expected nothing except for a vein throbbing on his temple.
What you do find is-
Gun looking at you, fondness in his eyes. He's taking in your grin, letting your gloating slide.
Doesn't do more than roll his eyes when you perform a victory dance of sorts around him.
And when you get in his face to tell him that you're the winner, you're the best-
(More words are on the tip of your tongue but your gaze drops to his lip, drawn to the small smile he wears.
It sinks in.
The patience he has, the attention he gives, the way he has opened his home to you.
From the very first meeting, the even-handed way he has dealt with your insults, entertained you to the early hours of the morning on Tekken.)
Gun reaches out, tugs your hand and pulls you into his lap and agrees.
"Yes. The best."
You think it's a lie, an embellishment.
But the way he holds you - tender and precious, and the way he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours - soft, like you might break - can't be anything else but the whole truth.
(Update! Part 2 here!)
#lookism#lookism x reader#gun park#gun park x reader#park jonggun x reader#park jonggun#wannaeatramyeon
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what girlfriend!billie does when she misses you / fluff & all things sweet, i thought about this earlier so :) stay tuned to the end for something i made 🫣
01. — WHEN BILLIE MISSES YOU… she can’t stop blowing up your phone. if your busy or at work, or even just taking a nap— she’s gonna send you every funny tiktok she sees, every random picture she takes, all of it. you’re one of the most important things in her life and she always wants to show you what’s going on.
my love — here’s finneas eating celery
my love — really just thought you should know
like literally, she’ll send you anything that’s going on. but quality time and being together is such a big thing for her, there’s no way she’d go even an hour with speaking to you or giving you updates unless she physically couldn’t.
02. — WHEN BILLIE MISSES YOU… that’s literally all she can talk about. she really is the “i miss my girlfriend” type, and she has zero to no shame. it’s half because she loves to say the word “girlfriend” out loud, because she thinks it’s cute.
“my girlfriend?”
“nah i can’t, i’m going to see my girlfriend.”
“my girlfriend would fuck with this.”
“i miss my girlfriend.”
if she’s on a long road trip or flight, everyone’s eyes start to twitch a little bit anytime the first syllable of “girlfriend” even comes out her mouth. but they know that she loves you so much, and that you make her happy— and that’s all they could really ask for. no, no complaints.
“i deadass miss my girlfriend so much y’all, like— please, i need to see her. can we just cancel tour, lowkey? maybe for like a day? so i can see my—“
“billie,” zoe giggles, “you will see your girlfriend, i promise. just let it rest for a second.”
03. — WHEN BILLIE MISSES YOU… she’ll catch herself rereading old texts, or looking at old videos and pictures because the memories mean so much to her. she likes to search up key words in your chats to find sweet conversations you had when y’all were just talking, or even when you first started dating.
if you sent her any voice memos, she’s definitely listening to them. your voice is one of her favorite sounds and there isn’t anything else she’d rather listen to. she’d pop her airpods in and play some of you singing or just talking, and she’d loop them until the words didn’t even make sense anymore.
04. — WHEN BILLIE MISSES YOU… she can get a little grumpy or upset. it isn’t on purpose, but she’ll feel really bad about it later on.
a lot of the time, it’s when she’s already running late and stressed— just a long of things on her plate. and as if it couldn’t get any worse, you were busy too and so your ability to calm her down and comfort her was put to no use. she’d be with her team getting ready for interviews or something, and she’d just be mad.
“billie, did you eat before this? it’s a four hour drive, and—“
“i’m not hungry.”
like literally, the sassiness can get crazy. finneas will usually have to bring her back a little bit, but he usually just lets her grumpiness run its course for a little until she finally calms down.
“you done now?” finneas would tease, giving her a playful hit to her shoulder as the bus pulled into the parking lot of where they were being interviewed. billie gave him fiery eyes, but she wasn’t upset anymore. she just really missed you.
“i miss her.” billie frowned, getting all her things together with a pout, “i always do.”
05. — WHEN BILLIE MISSES YOU… she’s gonna tell you. she’ll often leave you many texts or phone calls, repeatedly telling you how much she longs for your presence and how she wished she could be with you.
it was especially killing her now because of tour, and the time zones were not in her favor at all. so, she’d send you voicemails when you wouldn’t answer her call, like this one. (click the video and slide to the beginning to listen to the voicemail!)
transcript if you can’t listen: hi baby, it is very, very late, um— but i wanted to, uh, send you a voice message, and just tell you that i miss you so fucking much. i wish you were with me. honestly, i think we should just come back and get you so you can do tour with me. uhm…ugh, okay— it’s…it’s late, and i’m tired as hell, and i bet you’re already asleep. um…i miss you always, and i love you. sleep well mama, i miss your beautiful face. bye.
send an ask to be added to my taglist!
taglist: @vharperr | @47lake | @hopingforgoodblogs
#‧₊˚✩ — 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒!#billie eilish blurbs#billie eilish fluff#billie eilish x you#billie eilish snaps#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish imagines#billie eilish smut#billie eilish imagine#billie ellish lyrics#billie eilish#billie eilish fic#billie eilish x fem!reader#billie eilish x y/n#billie eilish x female reader#billie eilish blurb#billie eilish short fic#billie eilish voicemail
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Help me dig upward: the Tumblr post
In which I talk a little bit about the hole I’ve been in for a hot minute—and what I want to do to dig out of it.
Hey y’all,
For the second time in a few years I’m starting a GoFundMe. This time, though, it’s not for the site, at least not explicitly. It is to help me get out from under the weight of debt that I’ve been carrying for more than a decade at this point, but which has finally gotten so bad that it’s affecting everything from my sleep patterns to my overall mental health and ability to do the thing that you likely already support me for: this website.
If you’ve been wondering why the posting has decreased here, or reduced in quality, or why we started 2024 off publishing other writers and then just as suddenly stopped doing that again, this is why: I am out of money, I am in debt, and it feels like I’m living every day in pure, basic survival mode.
This GFM, in which I’m asking for $10,000, is a moonshot, a Hail Mary. I don’t expect it to raise anything; it will be the last time I ask the Internet for money, whether it works or it doesn’t. If it works, obviously it’ll mean I’ll be able to post more and maybe my mental health will improve and I won’t feel like every moment is a countdown to a terrible ending, and I’ll be able to think of compelling angles to talk about video games again. If it doesn’t work, maybe I’ll figure something else out. Bankruptcy, probably. I don’t know.
I hate doing this. I hate being in this position. I hate that I’ve already asked for money this year and people have been extremely generous and it just feels like all that generosity just went into a hole. I wish I had something to show for that generosity, or proactively for anything I gain from this campaign. So, if there is something you want me to cover or talk about or look at in exchange for your support on this campaign, just shoot me an email with proof of your donation, no matter how small. It’s [email protected]. I can’t promise I’ll write a bunch of magnum opuses at your request but I will do what I can just simply to show appreciation for your support.
Anyway, this feels bad to me and I’m already starting to regret it, so I’m going to wrap this up by saying thank you in advance and I owe you my life. I wish that was figurative.
Edit: here is the text of the GFM I posted.
Hi y’all,
My name is Kaile Hultner. I am an online cultural critic who has been running the video game criticism website No Escape since 2019. My work has been featured in other places like PC Gamer, Polygon and Bullet Points Monthly. And like a lot of people, I have been deeply in debt for years.
Debt is a very strange phenomenon. As anthropologist David Graeber demonstrated in his book Debt: The First 5000 Years, it is a phenomenon that imparts a kind of moral valence on a person; whether or not that person can pay their debts is a sign of their trustworthiness or virtue as a member of polite society. Yet you can’t go without debt: at some point, at least in the United States, you have to pick up a form of debt – credit – to establish your credit score, without which you can’t rent an apartment, buy or lease a car, or, in some cases, even get a job. Being debt-free can harm this score, as can having a credit history that is “too young.”
I’ve been in debt for a long time. I’ve been managing my debt for over a decade. Every year for the last six or seven years in particular it feels like I’m losing progressively more and more ground. Seven years ago I had a car; I could do things like deliver Uber Eats and DoorDash and make extra money whenever I ran out. It broke down in my driveway in 2022 and I couldn’t afford to take it to a mechanic to get it fixed. I sold it for $200. I haven’t been able to replace it. I don’t know what I’ll do if I ever need a car for anything. Luckily my day job is WFH.
Recently, I’ve been fighting with my old bank over charges it erroneously applied to my account in excess of $1000, causing it to go deep into the negatives. I’ve been slowly, slowly digging myself out of that hole thanks to some close friends and some very kind folks who follow me on the Internet. But it’s caused other debts to exacerbate. And tonight I realized that I am at the end of my rope. I can’t do this anymore. I won’t sit here and say that I’ve done everything right; certainly, more than one bad decision made out of desperation has put me here. I won’t make excuses for that. But I’m tired of being here, in this position. I’m tired of waking up in the middle of the night with heart palpitations because I got an alert from my bank that I’m in the negatives. I’m tired of getting emails and phone calls from debt collectors. I’m tired of living in basic survival mode with no discernible path forward. I’m tired of being tired, of not having the energy to be creative and do the work I’ve built an online presence around for five years. And paradoxically, I’m tired of asking people on the internet for money.
So I’m going to ask people on the internet for money, one final time.
I’ve set the goal at $10,000. This is far more than I’m honestly expecting to get, but if I get even a fraction of that I could finally obliterate my debts in a meaningful way. I do have specific milestones that I basically need to meet, otherwise this GFM doesn’t hit its maximum effectiveness, but otherwise the sky is the limit. If I reach the whole amount… I don’t really know what I’ll do. Cry, maybe.
Milestones – bolded are high-priority
Milestone reached! $750 – gets my old bank account out of the negatives. Eliminates one vector of harassment, allows me to close that account and move on.
Milestone Reached! $1800 – does the above and allows me to fully pay any late or past-due loan payments missed as a result of the bank issue.
Milestone Reached! $6000 – does the above and allows me to fully pay off all installment loans
$8000 – does the above and allows me to pay off any remaining debts.
$10,000 – does the above and allows me to start saving.
$10,000+ – basically a moonshot, I have no idea what I’ll do with extra.
I fully do not expect you to donate to this. There are people trying to escape genocides, much more abject poverty, crushing medical debt, and so much more that feel – at least to me – so much more worthy of your attention and money. But just know that if you dodonate something, you have my undying appreciation. I will quite literally owe you my life.
I’m going to post this now before I get too emotional or lose my nerve entirely, but again: thank you. Even if all you do is read this.
—Kaile
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Hi bisexual sex ed person batman
Do you think teenagers masturbating to porn is bad or neutral
And also i have another question. We know young kids and sex is not a good match. Not questioning that. But do you know why, exactly? Like why is it traumatizing for a small kid to watch porn but not for a teenager. Like how does that work
Thank you in advance. And uh. Happy saturday
hi anon,
okay, so. I need you to understand that you're first question is basically this.
like, you want me to classify EVERY teenager who's ever jacked it to ANY kind of porn as either bad or neutral? good's not even an option? jesus christ.
let's say that I think any body jacking off to anything is for the most part a pretty morally neutral act so long as they're not cranking it on public transit or while spying on someone who is unaware of their presence and therefore unable to consent.
as for your second question, this is going to be unpopular but it's actually not inherently traumatizing for a prepubescent child to see porn. don't get me wrong, I'm in no way advocating for showing your baby porn instead of cocomelon or whatever, but there's no trauma button that automatically gets switched if it happens.
which I can say with a decent amount of firsthand experience because, you know, I work with kids, and I also work with their parents to talk about the experiences that they had as children. every time I teach my class I get parents telling me about how they found porn mags for the first time when they were young, in their parents' bedroom or in a gutter or, once, hidden in some farm equipment. and a lot of their kids have seen porn online by the time they're in the age range I teach (about 11 years old), whether accidentally or shown it a a crude prank by another child.
and for the most part they're like... completely fine. the adults who saw porn as kids grew up to be the kind of thoughtful, conscientious parents who want their kids to receive quality, inclusive sex education. most of their kids find it silly, because they can't imagine why adults might want to do something that looks so weird and awkward, or they get a little kick out of seeing something adult that they know is supposed to be off limits, or they don't get it and don't think much about it at all. hell, some of those kids will experience one of their first encounters with sexual arousal; that's a thing that's perfectly healthy for kids to experience and some are early bloomers!
some kids might find it confusing or upsetting, sure, but those kids also tend to put the magazine away or close the video very quickly. kids are, you know, people, and they're pretty good at just moving away from things that bother them. and discomfort is, ultimately, not the same thing as trauma.
to be sure, some kids have a long-term bad reaction, but there are often extenuating circumstances in that case. there are obvious cases in which porn is shown to a child specifically by an abuser, but I've also found that for a lot of people what causes their long-term psychological distress wasn't them seeing porn but the way their caregivers reacted to it, making the child feel ashamed and dirty without ever giving them an explanation for why the adults in their life reacted so negatively. that can create a huge burden that leaves people feeling shaky and insecure in their sexuality for decades after the fact.
once again, I just want to be super clear on this before anyone starts trying to make it seem like I think Coolsville sucks: I don't think little kids should be seeing a lot of porn! if a kid in your life is doing that, they should be directed gently away with a thoughtful explanation of what they've been looking at and why it's not a good fit for them at their age nor a good model of what real sexuality is like. it can be difficult to suppress the urge to panic and react harshly, even if you feel it's in the kid's best interest, but they deserve an explanation that will make clear that they're not the one in the wrong.
but, again, there's not a switch in a child's brain that automatically traumatizes them if they see a titty.
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I need to yap desperately about one single gripe I have with this game. MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD read at your own discretion
The first half is me ranting about how much certain things mean to me and how impacted I was, and the actual gripe comes closer to the end.
I'll preface this by saying this post is about Varric's death and my rage and despair regarding it, but more so about my Rook's.
I've seen people who said they picked up on the hints about whatnot, who knew before the Fade Prison. I was not one of those people. I was so relieved when I saw him after the Prologue that I didn't think twice, because I knew that it would destroy me the second shit started going wrong.
I was already not having a good time when I started the game simply because Varric was getting older. I don't handle aging well or death, and his design showing his age, and the comments he would make about "getting too old for this" just made my heart break.
And then shit got worse. I sobbed disgustingly when that knife went into Varric's chest.
After Rook woke up from talking to Solas and she heard Varric, I was so gods damned relieved. And my Rook was better taken care of by Varric in that year she spent with him than she was in the rest of her entire life.
I cried from the end of Ghilan'nain's fight until the romance scene and on and off after that. I got so used to visiting Varric just to be comforted by his presence. Inquisition was the biggest part of my life for a year and a half when I was just a kid.
I did really bad middle school age writing for it but regardless of the quality, those characters were built up in my head becoming even more than they were in the game. Varric was my biggest support character through everything I was going through at the time.
I don't talk about it much, but I didn't have a great childhood, and I know a lot of people didn't, but I coped with it through writing and video games. Varric was the one supporting me through the abuse I suffered and writing was the way I processed how bad things really were.
When Rook was in the prison she said "What am I going to find here?" And Varric said "I think you already know, kid." I DIDN'T until he said that. The second he said that my entire chest tightened and I just said "No" out loud as I watched Rook find his body.
Now for my real complaint!!!
Rook never gets the chance to grieve Varric. They go from talking to him every day to finding out he's dead and it was all a lie. I have personally never been more fucking pissed at Solas than I am now. But Rook comes back and they have that kind of "closing off" scene with Varric's empty bed (which was so hard to go through btw). And then they fuck their pookie LIKE I CANNOT BE THE ONLY ONE UPSET ABT THAT
FYM I gotta find out my dad is dead and then Rook is up for boning like there's no fucking way unless it's to cope. And at least pertaining to the Lucanis romance, Rook is processing everything that happened and they can say "So much has happened, I just don't know how to feel."
And rather than getting to process that in some kind of way, the devs said nah this scene serves one singular purpose, and Lucanis says "I do" and then dicks them down.
Personally, I felt very dismissed despite being overjoyed about finally having the romance scene, I couldn't even enjoy it with everything that happened prior.
Rook deserved the chance to completely break down after everything they went through. Tbh i don't know how they kept it together. Varric said "don't get all misty eyed" and i thought to myself that's way too delicate a term for what's happening here, I was fully ugly crying.
Fuck your "I had a good run" I still need you bitch.
All this to say I'm very upset, and I'm running my second playthrough and every time I look at, hear, or talk to Varric I tear up again. Wtf Bioware.
Rook should've gotten the chance to actually talk about what Solas did to them, especially in the sense that he made them believe Varric was still there. Or at least get to properly grieve the person who was their closest friend for a long time.
I have very strong feelings about this obviously
#dragon age the veilguard spoilers#dragon age the veilguard#datv spoilers#datv#datv varric#dav#dav spoilers#dragon age#dragon age 4 spoilers#dragon age 4#dragon age dreadwolf#dragon age dreadwolf spoilers#dragon age varric#varric#varric tethras#da varric#dragon age the veilguard companions#dragon age the veilguard romance#lucanis#lucanis dellamorte#rook x lucanis#da4 lucanis#dragon age lucanis#lucanis x rook#lucanis romance#lucanis spoilers#taylor’s a yapper 🗣️
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Who? - Elisa De Almeida x singer!reader
summary: when the public thinks y/n is dating a football player... a male player. Inspired by this
A/n: this shit made me wanna kms. i really thought social media au would be easier since it's not writing. but holy shit editing this was ass. also the fact that it took me around 10 hours yesterday only?? and 138 pictures. but lowkey... making fake beef and conversations was kinda fun lol.
warning: nothing, but this is the first time i made a social media au so it may be bad...and the quality of these screenshots are shit. also...I worked really hard editing the time of those screenshots (except the second one... i forgot) they will help you understand the timeline. I recommend reading this in white mode so the tweets can look smoother.
face claim :@itsouidad on instagram
y/nl/n
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y/nl/n smiles and preparations, 2 days until I meet you guys 🫶(also happy new years lollll 😭😭)
احبكم كثيرررر 🩷🇶🇦
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user1 IS THAT SOUQ WAQIF???? GUYS KILL ME SHE WAS RIGHT AROUND ME AND MY BLIND ASS DIDNT SEEEE 😭😭😭💔💔
user2 wait they allow women to not wear the scarf there?
↳ user3 @User2 girl what?? yes tf, get out of the propaganda ffs
ayanakamura_officiel ohh la laaa
↳ y/nl/n @Ayanakamura_officiel 💍 yes or no?
↳ user3 @y/nl/n lmfaoooo y/n keeps forgetting shes famous now
y/nbiggestfan awhhh how is it babee?
↳ y/nl/n @y/nbiggestfan everyone is so sweet and generous 🤧🥹🥹, i can't wait to meet yall
y/nupdates have fun sweetie!! enjoy it
↳ y/nl/n @y/nupdates thank you Emi 🫶
jackie_groenen_14
liked by elisadealmeida5, psg_feminines, and 13,622 others
tagged: elisadealmeida5, sakinakarchaoui, grace_geyoro, psg_feminines, qatarairways
jackie_groenen_14 always learning with the girls, it was nice to have some special days with my 2nd fam ❤️💙
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y/nl/n what were you thinking in the 5th slide lolll
↳ jackie_groenen_14 @y/nl/n i thought you said it was cute :(((
↳username1 @jackie_groenen_14 im so confused how do they know each other
elisadealmeida5
liked by y/nl/n, jackie_groenen_14, grace_geyoro, and 74,567 others
elisadealmeida5 Great time together in doha 🇶🇦
Thanks for the amazing experience ✨️
@psg_feminines
@Visitqatar
@qatarcreates
@Qatarairways
#parissaintgermain #psg #paris
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_clarehunt 🥰🥰
jackie_groenen_14 baby ❤️
user54 تهبلللل اخخخخ
user42 lindaaaa😩
user11 who was she giggling with on the 5th pic ugh 😩😩
y/nl/n
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y/nl/n thank you so much Qatar for this experience, too many pretty places my phone storage is gonna explode ☹️
Thank you @dohamusicfestival for this unforgettable moment, and to everyone involved (that old lady that was making Nutella bread in souq waqif, I will never forget you 👆)
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user5 you're always welcome back!💞💞
user3 maybe that girl on Twitter wasn't so blind... I swear it's the same place
↳ user1 @user3 babe that's The Pearl it's literally like number 1 on tourist attraction place
↳ user3 @user1 so? They could go together
↳ user1 @user3 I still don't understand the fascination of them going together, like she can have friends. I know she's antisocial and makes jokes about it but I promise she's not a baby 🙏🙏
Cutiedealmeida uploaded a thread
"can I get a kiss?" - fan of Elisa's
Elisa: "sorry, I'm not single sorry" 💔
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oh my god elisa speaks in English again! Does this confirm that our favorite football player is taken...or is she just saying that as the girl looks much younger? Who knows! I guess we have to wait till Eli confirms her relationship...video credits: @emiliaaa.zl 🤞❤️ #elisadealmeida #footballnews #psg #psgfeminines
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↳ user1 FUCK MY LIFE
↳ user2 she literally just confirmed it by saying she's not single 💀💀 do you want her to post a sloppy make out picture or what
↳user3 let me not just say anything...
↳user4 @user3 do you know who is the gf?
↳user3 @user4 nope I was just jealous 😁
fanofyn @ynupdates do you think it could be her?
↳ ynupdates @fanofyn y/n never said she's not single. And even if she is taken, there is barely any proof of it being Elisa 🤞
elisadealmeida5 uploaded a story
y/nl/n
Liked by elisadealmeida5, kehlani, brahim, and 79,751 others
Y/n ☀️❄️
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User1 she couldn't think of a caption so she used emojis lol
↳ y/nl/n @User1 stop exposing me 😔
Besfriend can't believe you ditched me for this 💔💔
↳ y/nl/n @Bestfriend stopppp I asked you if you wanted to come 😭😭
Jackie_groenen_14 the sunglasses and the smile 😍😍
↳y/nl/n @jackie_groenen_14 shut up I'm blushing 🤚
User2 SHUT UP SHES WITH THAT PLAYER
↳user3 @User2 that place is very popular lol every rich person is there right now
↳user2 @User3 man I can't even be fucking delusional anymore without yall
↳user4 @User2 I believe you, they were posing the same way too ✊️
↳user2 @User4 WHAT THE HELL I DIDNT EVEN NOTICE THAT
Y/nl/n uploaded a story
elisadealmeida5 uploaded a story
Y/nl/n
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Y/nl/n good night and good win 🙏 Hala madrid 🤍
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User1 wait she's actually with brahim????
↳user2 @User1 I'd cry
User3 slut, only cares about players for money
↳user4 @User3 get a fucking life weirdo
User5 nooo the men found out about her :(( she will literally get hate on every post now
Bestfriend idgaf it's visca barca
↳ y/nl/n @Bestfriend babe... this isn't you 😔😔
user6 she's wearing a Spain shirt 👀
↳ user7 @User6 isn't brahim Moroccan?
↳user6 @User7 he's half Spanish, and before he got into the Moroccan team he wanted to play for the Spanish one but he wasn't good enough for them ig😬😬
User8 BABBYYYYY LOOK AT MY GIRL LIKE WOW
User9 awh she's so happy for her boyfriend ;((
User10 the last slide is brahim?
User11 awhh it's so cute how she's teaching him how to eat with his hand, but the food looks too hot tho 😭😭
Y/nl/n uploaded a story
Y/nupdates_page
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Y/nupdates_page GUYS KILL MEE Y/N JUST WENT LIVE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN A YEAR!...but something happened in the end as you can see from this screen-recording.
Is Y/n dating Elisa? Or was it Brahim? The audio wasn't clear, and the camera wasn't showing the door properly either! But from the small corner... the person has the same features as both brahim and Elisa. Short brown hair and fair skin... it could be either. But it's 99% Brahim since y/n never made a statement that she likes women, and she did make a lot of... interesting tweets back in the day about brahim ifykyk 🙈🙈
#y/n #music #elisadealmeida
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user1 LMFAOOOO HER FACE
user2 idfc I'll stay delusional and pray it's Elisa
user3 wait what happened after this???
↳Y/nupdates_page @User3 she froze for 5 seconds, laughed, and then just ended it 😭😭 not even a fucking goodbye, she HATES us 😔💔💔
user4 noooo she's not single anymore💔 no more heartbroken depressing music
user5 wait who the fuck is Elisa and why does it feel like there is some inside joke that yall are hiding from me
↳Y/nupdates_page dw bae i got you, I made a post about the whole rumor a while ago 🫡
user6 HER SISTER LIKED IT
↳Y/nupdates_page @User6 she's probably sending it to the gc to laugh at her lmfao 💀💀
User7 #music ma'am are you that desperate for likes
↳Y/nupdates_page @User7 yes I'm an attention whore and the tag clearly worked.
y/nl/n
Liked by elisadealmeida5, jackie_groenen_14, kehlani, and 196,725 others
Tagged: elisadealmeida5
y/nl/n I'm so happy for my girlfriend ;((
eli, I'm so proud of you and I love you so much 🤎🤎
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elisadealmeida5 babbyyyy❤️❤️🥺🥺
↳y/nl/n @elisadealmeida5 ❤️🤎
user1 WHICH ONE OF YALL BITCHES CALLED ME DELUSIONAL
user2 it's actually insane how we knew about this from a random tweet damn
user3 brahim didn't like this post lolll
user4 that's a girl?
user5 damn she's hot as hell
user6 I get depressed thinking she's not single but I start crying in joy when I realize it's a woman
user7 awhh she used a brown heart emoji 🤎🥺🥺🥺
↳user8 @User7 what the fuck is that supposed to mean 💀💀
↳user7 @User8 y/n has a whole album called 'Brown Hearts' lol
user9 Elisa is not single :(((((
user10 wait are they together?
↳user11 @User10 well i tell you what Sherlock Holmes you are unbelievable
↳y/nsister @User11 LMFAOAOAO
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i want to thank @thinkingaboutjaedyn for showing ouidad... like its insane how perfect she is for this
fun facts:
-the pictures were somehow easy to find, i was actually shocked on how i was able to find pictures from ouidad for this fic, the only time i struggled was for the 'paparazzi' pics at the end.
-the two pictures on y/n's post of her in qatar were from my sister's instagram page
if there is a mistake ignore it because im gonna kms if i have to edit this again
#elisa de almeida#élisa de almeida#elisa de almeida x reader#elisa de almeida fluff#woso#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso community#psg feminines#psg feminines x reader#wlw#social media au#football smau#woso smau#football fanfic#woso fanfiction#nel recommends fanfiction#nel's writings
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Could I request a drabble with Dave Lizewski and his best friend who has a major crush on Kick Ass and tells Dave all the dirty details?
OOOOOH SCRUMDIDDLYUMPTIOUS. aged up to 18+ obvs, give me a hoot or holler in the notes or my ask box if you want a fluffier version lol
Dave always wondered why girls never noticed him. he figured it was cause he's a quiet geeky nerd who likes comic books and superheroes. nope. it's because of you. when you first met Dave - however old you were, freshman, middle schoolers, kindergarteners - you latched the fuck onto this boy so fast. you've always been protective over him, always had that vibe that says you fuck with him, I'll fuck you up. besides, having a best friend as hot as you immediately made everyone assume he's totally off the market. like, it should be obvious. being "best friends" with someone as hot as you, spending all your time together - you have sleepovers for god's sake. EVERYONE at school fully believes you're fucking. the only ones unaware of this are Dave and Todd and Marty and possibly yourself.
it's at one of these infamous sleepovers that you finally spilled the beans. you've been obsessing over kickass for weeks, constantly talking about him and his exploits to Dave. you just got your hands on another grainy, horribly low quality picture of kickass stopping a purse snatching from someone's video doorbell. you're sitting at Dave's desk while he's flopped on his bed, finishing some homework.
"fuck I want him in my mouth so fucking bad..."
it just slips out, but Dave is instantly hard. he startles, sputtering and desperate to know who his best friend is practically moaning for.
"y-you want who?!" he demands in confusion at your sudden outburst, causing both of you to laugh. you turn the monitor towards him, and Dave sees himself looking back. his stomach does the thing, that flippy jerky oh shit thing from both anxiety and horniness. he is really, really hard now.
"k-kickass?" he asks, his voice getting all whiny and cracking in that way you've always found so cute.
"yes!" you exclaim with a laugh, looking at him incredulously. "come on Dave, you told me about a sex dream you had about our math teacher two days ago. he groans half heartedly at you bringing up.
"I already regret telling you about that." he protests playfully, his voice muffled into his duvet.
"just look at him," you sigh, already looking at the pictures of kickass. "look at his arms... I'd probably cum just from him putting me in a headlock."
Dave nearly chokes on his spit. He's really glad he's laying on his stomach so you can't see the way he's kind of rubbing against his mattress. it's not on purpose or anything, it's not like he's trying to get off to his best friend (even though he has before. like a lot. like he has to clear his porn search history because it's all descriptors of people who look like you) but when you're going on and on about how wet you'd get from being choked by a guy without realizing he's actually inches away from you... well, what is he supposed to do??
"christ, you can see his whole bulge in this one," you murmur, biting you lip. "I have never wanted to suck someone off so bad."
Dave lets out a choked noise, which you interpret as more playful disgust over your thirsting.
"I'm serious!" you exclaim. "I swear to god, he could keep me barefoot and pregnant and I'd thank him."
Dave's hips have started moving faster on their own as he grinds against his mattress. he knows he shouldn't prod for more details of what you'd do to kickass - to him - he knows you're his best friend and that you'd probably think he was some sick freak if you knew the truth, that he's kickass and he's getting off to you listening to you talk about him like that. Dave loves you, he respects you and admires you and cherishes your friendship so much, so why is feeling guilty and conflicted about about listening to you unintentionally dirty talk like this making it feel so good??
"literally, I would make sure his balls were always empty. like, always." you state.
each word that tumbles out of your mouth makes his blood burn with lust.
"U-uh huh," he chokes out, fighting for his LIFE not to moan in front of you right now.
"just one chance," you sigh, "I just know he's majorly packing. Bet he cums a lot too." you murmur.
you're pouting now. pouting over not being able to taste his cock. the same cock Dave is trying to discreetly jerk off just a few feet away from you. he whines softly, praying you won't notice as you continue to look through photos of him as kickass.
"I don't think I've ever been so down for someone," you whine, throwing your head back and sighing. "okay, you can't tell anyone about this-"
you start seriously.
"but I literally got off thinking about him last night, and I came so hard-"
and if that's not the straw that breaks the camel's back. Dave lets out a strangled, stifled whining moan as his hips rut and stutter against his mattress. his head swims as he cums in his pants, blinded by a raw, pure pleasure.
"O-oh god!" he pants, head spinning as he comes down from his high. his cheeks are flushed, and he can't fucking believe he just did that in front of you. he swallows thickly, terrified - and for some reason, a little thrilled by how you'll react.
you look over at him, eyes locked on him for a moment. it only takes you a second to realize what just happened - your horndog best friend got so turned on from listening to you thirst over kickass that he actually creamed his pants.
"You're so gross," you laugh playfully, throwing a pen at him. "I hope you know how lucky you are that I'm great at keeping secrets." you finish, an unspoken promise that tonight will stay between the two of you.
you turn back to what you're doing, unperturbed by the fact that your best friend just came in his pants from hearing you talk like that, chalking it up to Dave being Dave. this isn't the first time he's gotten hard at an awkward time, but usually he just sneaks off to the bathroom or something to take care of it himself. you had a hunch he might resort to something like this eventually, so you're not too surprised.
"Anyway, what do you think his type is?" you ask, swiveling around Dave's desk chair to look at him. your arms are crossed on the back of the chair, and you lean down on them as you look at him.
"Like, from an objective, guy perspective?"
"U-uh," Dave starts with a soft, nervous laugh, still unable to believe that just happened. "I- I don't know..." he shrugs.
he thinks that's the first time he's lied to you. he knows exactly what kickass's type is, because he's looking right at you.
#drabbles#dave lizewski#dave lizewski x reader#dave lizewski drabbles#dave lizewski smut#kickass#kickass x reader#kickass drabbles#kickass smut#kick ass#kick ass drabbles#kick ass x reader#kick ass smut#AAAAUGHGHGHGHGH GUYS GETTING OFF TO YOU BECAUSE OF OVERWHELMING EMOTIONAL INTIMACY MY BELOVED#tristin dugray does the same thing btw#getting off thinking about emotional intimacy and a happy domestic life with you#yeah but dave WILL be texting you all night and probing for details which you are happy to share#you're happy to have an outlet for your overwhelming crush on kickass#he's happy to listen and file away every word you say for his now growing obsessive crush#if you were a superhero too it'd literally be the miraculous love square lol#but yeah#kisses#smooches even
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Game Design and Porn Pt. 1
or, How To Fuck Up The Best Intrinsic Reward Ever
Hi, I'm Leo G, veteran pervert. One time while chatting in a server exclusively made of porn artists, I brought up the game design of a porn game I enjoyed. One of them laughed, saying "Who cares, it's just a porn game?" Being unwell, I never let this go. Since then, I have played many adult games and took each one as serious products made by professionals. Fast forward to today, and the demo for my porn game, Joker's Trip, is nearing completion. I also have some sci-fi erotica you should check out.
So you wanna make a porn game. You heard they make money, and hey what’s more fun than making a video game AND porn? But you don’t know where to begin! Well don’t worry, Leo’s got you covered. We’re gonna walk through the line of thinking you should have when designing your porn game. There's gonna be at least three parts to this, with part 1 focusing on how to reward your player.
Define "porn game" for me, Leo.
There are porn games, and then games with porn in them. A porn game is a game where you won’t last 5 minutes, where everything exists solely to meet and, subsequently, fuck. A game with porn in it is a game where everything exists for the purpose of the game, and also, you fuck. Fate Stay Night, for example, is a VN with a story that just so happens to have some CGs where the protagonist rails Saber, but is mainly about Shirou and the Holy Grail War. Much like how I would call Castlevania a game with horror in it, but not a horror game.
Porn games are a lot like horror games. They both get a bad rap for being cheap to make, appealing to base instincts, and generally being low quality. They're also both not actual genres of games, but genres of content. Think about it, if I asked you what a horror game is, you'd say a game that's scary. But what's the actual game part? The unfortunate answer would most likely be "walking sim," but there are a lot of examples that are FPSes, puzzles, driving sims, platformers, deck builders, the list goes on.
The most common genres of game I see for porn games these days are by far RPG Maker RPGs and VNs. I won’t be talking about VNs because they’re closer to writing than game design, which isn’t a flaw but a feature. What used to be everywhere, in days of old, were breakout games, where the more bricks and levels were cleared, the more of the sexy image would be revealed in the background. Other arcadey type deals like shoot ‘em ups and mahjong were also around, and had a similar “strip ‘em down until you have sex” gameplay loop.
Okay, so what’s an intrinsic reward?
There’s intrinsic rewards, and there're extrinsic rewards. Extrinsic rewards, generally, are the number go up rewards. Things that make your character stronger, or give you more resources to buy new gear or whatever. Intrinsic rewards in games can cover a large swathe of things. It can be the feeling of satisfaction of completing a puzzle, a piece of lore or world building, or a new dialogue option with a character you want to fuck.
I like fucking characters, are we talking about porn now?
Yes! I’m of the opinion that you literally can’t make a better intrinsic reward than pornography. On top of setting the tone for the entirety of the game., at its best it can add to a story, add to someone’s character development, or be a beautiful piece of art to look at. AND you can jack off to it! Unfortunately, that’s at its best. Let’s talk about how porn is delivered in a theoretical RPG porn game. (As a head’s up, there will be talk of “bad end” scenes, but this is under the assumption that the player is the one consenting.)
So you’re playing an RPG and get into a fight. Maybe you were underleveled or too cumbrained to remember to buy healing potions. Then your HP goes to zero, and instead of going back to the title screen, you’re getting fucked by orcs. That’s right, let’s talk about Game Over CGs.
You get to watch porn when you lose?
To someone making a porn game with a battle system, this delivery method makes sense. The characters in this world are driven primarily by lust, this is just the obvious conclusion. And it doesn’t even have to be non-consensual! Games like Future Fragments show that it can be presented as a sexy inconvenience rather than anything uncomfortable for the player or our hero. Game Over CGs even have the benefit of softening the blow of defeat, by giving the player a chance to reflect on their defeat and jerk off. Even better if losing a fight isn’t lost progress, but rather a bump in the road. However, there’s a problem here. The player is a dog, and we’re rewarding bad behavior.
The porn is an intrinsic reward, so why are we giving it to the player for losing? Incentivizing losing on purpose isn’t just bad game design, but a waste of time. And to that end, a lot of porn games try to give solutions to this. One being a kill button on the keyboard or a skill that instantly KOs our hero to get to the lose screen faster. What might seem like a convenience is really just expediting failure.
What it says is that the gameplay doesn’t actually matter. You’re just here for the porn, right? In that case there’s plenty of places I can go to see a chick with huge knockers get railed by an orc, with the added bonus of not having to play forgettable and mid turn based combat!
Another solution I’ve seen is the game outright telling you, “hey don’t bother killing yourself to see the porn. Once you beat the game all of the scenes you missed will be unlocked!” At first this seems like a reasonable way to go about it, but it comes with another problem: your game better be fucking good to make me play through the entire thing before getting to see cock. Like I said earlier, porn at its best can reveal things about the world and drive character development. I uh. Just beat the game. I don’t care anymore. Showing me a scene that’s taken out of context by a factor of 5 hours or more isn’t what I’d call great game design or story telling. It’s also too little, too late.
What if we made the porn actual rewards?
Now we’re getting somewhere! Let’s make the reward…a reward! What if, every time the player beats a level, we get some porn? If we tie the CG to beating the boss, we’ll be tying the reward to game progression. That’s good right? So now, on top of the extrinsic rewards you’d normally get for beating a boss (a lot of EXP, better gear, opened areas) we also get that sweet dopamine rush of pornography! So we’re good, right?
There’s 1142 words left in this post, so I’m assuming no.
Well. It’s a start. It has the problem of predictability. If not handled properly, it comes off as lazy. As a game designer, one of your goals is to not constantly remind your player that they’re playing a video game. Get through the level, get porn. It feels a little too “mouse in a maze looking for cheese” for my taste. And much like the game over method, if the actual game itself is mid, the player will start to question if the reward is worth it, and might be afflicted with the worst condition a player could receive: boredom.
Of course there are exceptions. In puzzle or arcade type games where you don’t get extrinsic rewards, giving the player porn as another form of reward per level or whatever is perfectly reasonable (though it does have the issue of being predictable.) This is a perfectly good way of doing it if your game is short, or if the game is, y’know, good and fun to play. Bad Color’s game, Heroine Conquest, is a level based puzzle game with porn as the reward, but only when you do good. Combining the actual challenge of mastering the game, with a genuinely unique game loop makes for a feeling of accomplishment when beating a level. Pair that up with a sex cutscene, and the dopamine rush will hit.
So! Let’s combine giving the player a power trip, with a less rigid structure for giving the player porn. Instead of tying the porn to purely progression gates, let’s tie it to the progression.
Plot milestones
In Third Crisis, sex scenes are peppered throughout the regular game’s plot, starting with some lesbian bondage before introducing the protagonist, who goes through a tutorial before having their own horny encounters. It’s not just given when you win or lose, but is a natural part of the game. Beating bosses, losing to enemies, and exploring dialogue options in sidequests all lead to unlocking new CGs.
Now what’s nice about that, is that the sex isn’t placed somewhere extremely predictable. It isn’t just a reward for beating The Boss Of Forest Zone, Now Go To Ice Zone And Beat The Ice Boss For More Cock. Because that’s the biggest issue of predictable rewards, you know you’re not getting anything until that checkpoint, which will make the player weigh whether or not it’s even worth continuing. This is fine, again, for an arcade type game, not an RPG or adventure game. By sprinkling sex throughout the plot itself, the player will not only want to progress, but their curiosity will have them wondering “what else is out there?”
Rewarding exploration
By putting sex scenes behind optional side quests or encounters, the dog that is the player will scour every single corner of the map, and leave no pixel unturned. Personally, that’s more exciting to me than what you’ll get in the main progression route. In Future Fragments the player can find their rival Faye in sexual situations if they explore the map enough. These are completely optional, and don’t give any direct rewards like more HP or an item, but they’re by far what motivates me to explore the maps as thoroughly as possible, more so than the plot macguffins the game is named after!
So now the player is excited. Sex can happen anywhere. Maybe that daunting off road path with stronger monsters isn’t just hiding a secret, but a sexy secret! They’ll be more likely to venture down those optional paths you painstakingly made.
If we’re using sex in game overs, boss fights, and just randos, why not put it everywhere?
So now I want to talk about the concept of a “sex stat”. It’s not a bad idea! Say, the higher the player’s sex stat is, the more opportunities you unlock for fucking. It could even be tied to the player character’s personality, and affect the story! Instead of using a sword and shield, they’ll end any conflict with sass and sex. They open their eyes to the horny world around them and stop being a hero, and instead become a succubus, and the ending is a massive cum filled orgy.
That sounds excessive
Yeah, it does, doesn’t it.
I’m not a fan of “corruption” systems in porn games. Corruption as a kink is totally fine, and having it be a part of the story lets you incorporate more sexuality into the plot. But as I alluded to, it snowballs pretty fast (and I’m not talking about spitting in someone’s mouth). It ends up being like a cheat code, where you’re bypassing parts of the game for no cost. It stops being a reward, it stops being unexpected, and it stops it from being sexy.
Wait, what? Stops being sexy? What’s not sexy about a succubus orgy?
Alright, listen, we gotta rein it in for a minute. This isn’t so much about game design as it is about writing erotica, but if you have a world where everyone’s fucking and sucking 24/7, there’s no contrast to make what would normally be a hot taboo a hot taboo. If everybody’s naked, nobody’s naked. The aforementioned snowball effect of a corruption system can be seen if you play literally any game that has one. It won’t take long to not have to engage with any combat or adventuring system if you can just press the “Submit to the big dick warlock” button and watch porn to progress.
Which, now that I said that, is exactly the problem. Imagine any other rpg you’ve ever played. Now imagine if every encounter and dialogue option had an option to just watch a short cutscene to skip the encounter. That would suck ass, right? Literally no difference here.
It would. Hey, I’m sort of lost now.
Don’t worry, we’re wrapping this up.
So what did we learn? We learned game over CGs have a critical design flaw that shouldn’t be relied on. We learned that predictable rewards can lead to boredom. We learned to keep sex as a reward and not devalue it.
To summarize, here’s a neat trick to know where to put your porn scenes.
”Would I put an Xbox Live achievement here?”
It’s that easy. “Lose to Goblins for the first time,” that’s an achievement. “Beat orc commander,” that’s an achievement. “Find Hubert the Magical Dickhead,” that’s an achievement. Using that as a guideline is foolproof. Almost.
This sounds like it’d take a lot of resources
It sure does! But don’t worry. I’ll cover that in the next post talking all about how to deal with the resource management of a porn game.
(Shoutout to Taylor, my guy for editing!)
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✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
✦ summary: you long for excitement in your mundane life, until you are suddenly visited by a strange, beautiful woman who upends your world and thrusts you into a whirlwind of pleasure and danger.
✦ genre/au: smut (MDNI!!), succubus!bada, basically pwp
✦ word count: 6k
✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors, mentions of demons and occult activities, top!bada (she's doing all the work), fingering, cunnilingus, bit of thigh riding, y/n is a weakling, somebody dies (or do they?)
✦ a/n: this is very different from other fics I've written, in genre and length, because after watching bebe's imagination video on repeat, i decided to temporarily drop the other fic i was working on to write this! we will be getting back to the more simple (and long) fics I've written before, but i hope you guys still enjoy this in the meantime! i purposely left this open-ended in case i, or you guys, wanted to see a continuation of this story at some point. lmk if that would be of interest to y'all!
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Beyond the restaurant windows, rain pounds against the earth. The rhythmic drumming of the rain lulls you into a trance-like state, eyes glossing over and body becoming numb. The soft jazz music coming from the speakers overhead only enhances your drowsiness, making you melt into your seat like heated wax. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand and stare out at the street, watching cars pass by and disappear into the darkness. Your eyelids become heavy and you blink, attempting to bring your attention back to the real world, and, probably most importantly, the person in front of you.
You sigh, slouching forward in your chair. Your date, Seolhyun, has been droning on for the last twenty minutes about her schoolwork. Her mouth is moving, but your mind isn't registering her words. You can't bring yourself to care. She seems somewhat nice, and she's devastatingly pretty, but those were about the only two qualities of value that you could conjure up. This wouldn't have been so bad, if this date hadn't essentially turned into a one-sided conversation she was having with herself. You don't think you've said more than three words since the both of you sat down.
"Like, nursing is so boring and depressing. I don't get why so many people are into it," she says, taking a bite of her food. "I want to do something interesting and fresh, like, modeling, or something. Or, maybe I'll switch my major to art. I take really good pictures of my friends. Isn't there a photography concentration in the arts program?"
Seolhyun looks over at you expectantly, waiting for your input. You have no idea what the answer is, so you just shrug and give her a fake, tight-lipped smile.
"Yeah, you know what? I think I'm gonna talk to my advisor tomorrow. It's just that my dad is the problem. Whenever I talk to my dad he's like, nooooo. That's not what I've been sending you money for. He's so old fashioned."
"Oh," you respond, your voice monotone. There is a part of you that can't help but feel a little bad about zoning out and ignoring her, but you've had your fill of boring conversations about family and school and life aspirations. This was nothing new.
She slams one of her hands on the table, making you jump so high you nearly knock your glass of water over.
"And it's silly because he's the one who wanted me to go to college sooo badly, so how are you going to complain about paying for it? Its like—and not to sound like a cunt—we do pretty well for ourselves. I don't need to be the moneymaker! I get he wants me to be the head nurse at the hospital he owns, but honestly, fuck that hospital. Fuck the patients too!" she continues, her voice raised loud enough to capture the attention of the nearby tables. You can feel their eyes on you, and a wave of embarrassment washes over you. You glance around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, slowly sliding down in your seat.
"He's just...he's such a hardass. Doesn't let me do anything. It's a real shame," she finishes, huffing in annoyance.
You nod. "Right, it is a real shame." you mumble, still avoiding others' judgemental gazes.
She doesn't seem to notice how uncomfortable you've become, or the attention that she's gathering. Instead, she grins."I know! I'm so glad you get it."
The only thing you're getting is murderous. You needed to get out of here, quickly. As if hearing your internal cries for help, the waiter appears, asking if the two of you would like to see the dessert menu. You shake your head.
"Oh, no. Just the check please," you say, glancing up at him.
Seolhyun nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'm done. This salad was kinda trash. No offense. Sorry." She picks up her napkin and dabs it at her mouth.
The waiter grimaces. "No problem. I'll be right back."
As the waiter walks off, you turn back to Seolhyun, forcing yourself to smile. She jumps right back into her complaints, albeit more quietly, and fidgets with the stem of her wine glass. You tune her out again, no longer feeling guilty for doing so. The only thing that brings your attention back to reality is the waiter setting the bill face-down on the table. He bids you both goodnight before walking off, and when you look up, you almost want to laugh.
A guilty expression flashes across Seolhyun's face, and she leans over the table, looking at the check. She clears her throat, and you already know what she's about to say.
"Do you have your card on you? Sorry, I think I left mine at home. I'll totally venmo you after this." She laughs awkwardly, sitting back in her seat.
You roll your eyes, but reach for your wallet. "Whatever."
After dinner, the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the rain, huddling under the overhang as you try to find an escape from the downpour.
"Well, it was nice chatting with you, y/n," she says, stepping towards the edge of the overhang. "Hope we can hang out again soon."
"Yeah, definitely," you lie.
"Awesome! Talk to you later, then." She smiles, and you know she's lying too.
Seolhyun walks out into the rain and you watch as she crosses the street, heading toward a pink Tesla.
"Bitch," you murmur bitterly, pulling your hood over your head.
You don't want to spend money on an Uber, and the walk to the nearest bus stop isn't very far, so you decide to trek through the rain, praying that the bus won't take long. You zip up your coat and adjust your hood, stepping out into the rain. The cold pelts against your face and seeps through the material of your clothes, causing goosebumps to break out on your skin. You curse, and pull your arms close to your body, walking faster. The streetlamps lining the road provide enough light for you to see where you're going despite the dark clouds overhead, their glow casting an orange glow against the pavement.
As you walk, your thoughts turn back to your disastrous date. You didn't mean to act like such an ass, but it was impossible not to when the entire evening had consisted of her talking about herself and how difficult her life was. The worst part is, she actually seemed to think you were a good listener, even with your blank stares and monosyllabic responses.
Deep down, you know that it's not entirely Seolhyun's fault. Today felt like a culmination of all the ways you've been failing lately. In short, it's been a bad week. A bad month. A bad year. At all points, you've felt as though there was no escape from the dullness of your life, like you were being suffocated, drowned in a pool of water with no way to save yourself. These were your college years, and you came to the realization last year that all you've been doing was sitting in your room, studying, going to class, and then going home. No parties, no drama, no adventures, no romance, nothing. Even worse, it seemed like everyone else had already started their lives and were living them. It was infuriating, seeing everyone around you have fun, while you were stuck in this weird limbo of mediocrity.
In attempts to find some excitement, you downloaded a dating app and started going out more, meeting people, but so far, all the dates have ended up being like this. Boring, or just plain awkward. You've tried to make changes—different clothes, makeup, hair—anything to shake things up, and while that was nice and made you feel pretty, it didn't change the fact that your life was still dull. And now, you're just exhausted, constantly feeling like you're going through the motions.
Nothing has worked. This was probably the tenth horrible date you've been on in two months. Maybe, this was just your life now, and you had to come to terms with it. Bland, and as bleak as the clouds overhead.
Which seem to have gotten even darker, you notice, as you approach the bus stop. You stand underneath the shelter, rubbing your hands together and blowing on them. The streets are completely deserted. You shiver, your damp clothes clinging to your skin, and hug yourself tightly, trying to keep warm. You try to look for any sign of the bus, but the rain is coming down too hard, the air is heavy with fog, and you can't see further than a few feet away. A prickle of fear runs down your spine. You didn't even think to check if the buses were running late. What if they're not running at all?
Just as you reach for your phone to check the time, you hear the screeching of bus brakes and let out a sigh of relief. You're saved.
You stand at the edge of the sidewalk, watching as the bus slowly pulls up in front of the stop. The door opens and you step inside, moving as quickly as you can. The warm air instantly hits your face, but the heat does nothing to thaw the chill that has set in your bones.
You pay the driver and walk to the back, taking a seat near the window. The bus is nearly empty, save for an old woman and a couple of teenagers sitting towards the front.
You pull your phone out of your pocket and plug in your earbuds. Music starts playing, drowning out the noise of the rain and the rumble of the engine.
After a few stops, the bus reaches your destination and the doors open, the sound of the rain pouring down and the wind blowing in, bringing with it a cool breeze. You get off, and begin the trek home, your sneakers splashing through puddles as you make your way down the street.
The wind picks up, the gusts blowing hard enough to cause the street lamps to flicker and sway. They cast shadows against the ground and walls of the buildings, which appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. The rain comes down harder, falling in thick, heavy sheets. You quicken your pace, the muscles in your legs burning as you move, your heart rate quickening.
Finally, your apartment building comes into view. You run, sprinting the last block and darting up the steps, the water squishing between your toes. Excitement blooms in your chest as you grab the door handle and pull it open, the prospect of a dry place to lay your head making you feel better.
As soon as you cross the threshold of your building, you pull your hood down, the smell of mildew hitting your nose. Your shoes squeak against the wet floor, and you leave a trail of water droplets and mud as you head toward the elevator.
The ride up is excruciatingly slow. You tap your foot impatiently, watching the numbers climb, and think about the warm bed that's awaiting you, how good it'll feel to wrap yourself in a blanket and forget about this miserable night. If your roommate allows it.
Once your mind drifts to her, your excitement dwindles. Fatigue weighs heavy on your shoulders, and you long for nothing more than to be asleep in the comfort of your own bed, but you know it's a rubbish wish, thanks to Aeri.
Recently, home hasn't been particularly enjoyable either. You used to have a roommate who didn't bother you. Then, she dropped out, and you were stuck with rent, an empty room, and the task of finding a new roommate. It was a difficult process, with most candidates seeming creepy or annoying or gross. Then, you ran into Aeri, who was by no means a perfect match, but seemed good enough. She was a bit awkward, and you didn't really know what to make of the intense gothic attire she was sporting during your initial meeting. She seemed incredibly nice and easygoing, though, and she smelled good. Was that not all you needed? So, running out of time, you swallowed your apprehension and gave her the spare keys to your apartment.
For the most part, you didn't regret your decision. She was, in fact, one of the sweetest, most caring people you've ever met, frequently baking treats for you when she knew you were having a particularly terrible day and listening to you vent about your dating diasters. But, there were a few small issues that had cropped up, and they happened to occur most often at night.
Your stomach does flip-flops the higher the numbers get, until, finally, the elevator dings, and the doors open. You shuffle out into the hall, pulling out your keys and heading toward the apartment. When you're in front of the door, you hesitate, the key hovering in the air as you stare at the peephole. You take a deep breath and push the door open, the smell of incense instantly hitting your nose as you step inside of the dark apartment. You slip off your wet shoes and hang your jacket up on your worn-out coat rack.
"I'm back," you call, closing the door behind you. You step further into the apartment and glance around as you walk into the living room, where you are met with a sight you're not prepared for.
Your eyes squint to adjust to the dark and take in the scene before you. The air is thick and heavy, engulfed by the scent of a sweet, intoxicating perfume. Candles are placed throughout the space, their warm glow casting shadows on the wall. Aeri kneels in the middle of the living room, wearing a cloak, her hands hovering above an intricate pentagram on the floor. She mumbles something to herself that you cannot understand, her eyes closed. Her hair falls over her face and her lips move, but no words are uttered.
"Aeri, what are you doing?" you ask, taking a tentative step forward.
Aeri's head snaps up, her eyes wide, and the mumbling stops.
"Oh, hey, you're back," she says, her tone a bit nervous. Her hands tremble as she moves the hood of her cloak back. "Sorry, I didn't know you'd be back so soon. I was just—uh—you know."
"No, actually. I don't. What are you doing?" You repeat, folding your arms in front of you.
She looks around the room, before returning her gaze to you. "Uh...meditating?"
And this was the problem. Shortly after Aeri moved in, she brought her witchy occult shit with her. You don't really believe in any of it, so you typically ignore her and carry on with your day when you see her pull out one of her spellbooks at the dinner table. Except for days like this, when she goes too far, gets too loud, and keeps you up at night with her antics. Then, she becomes public enemy number one.
You glare at her. "With a pentagram on the floor? Please. This is..."
You pause, scanning the room again. There's something particularly wrong today, but you can't quite place it. There's heaviness in the air, a heightened version of the feeling you get when you're in a haunted house, except there are no clowns or people cosplaying as serial killers, just candles and a pentagram and Aeri, staring up at you.
"Bizarre. This is bizarre. Even for you." you finish, narrowing your eyes. "What's going on?"
"Nothing!" She squeaks, her voice strained. "I was just...doing some reading about a spell that could, uh. Fix a problem that I’ve been having. I decided to try it out today"
You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out an exasperated sigh. You're tired. Your hair is drenched. Your shirt is clinging to your back. You couldn't be bothered with this.
"Listen, I don't think I actually care about what you have going on. But, I have an exam tomorrow, I've had a rough day, and I need some rest. Can you promise to keep it down in here while I sleep?"
Aeri looks around, a guilty expression on her face, before nodding her head. "Sure, yeah. No problem. I’m sorry."
"Thank you," you say, and turn on your heels without another word.
You make your way through the hallway and enter your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.
Your room is dark and cold, but you can't bother to turn the lights on or get under the covers. Instead, you lay down on the bed, your limbs splayed out. Your hair is still wet, and you can feel the moisture seeping into your comforter, but you can't even think to move.
You're too tired to bother changing into your pajamas. Too tired to do anything but sleep. So, you shove off your socks and rain-soaked jeans and call it a day. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets over your body until they rest just below your chin. The warmth envelopes you and you're finally able to relax. You stare up at the ceiling, watching the fan spin slowly, praying for a peaceful night's rest. Lately, you've been plagued by strange dreams you can't remember when you wake up. Although they've been forgetful, they usually keep you tossing and turning in your sleep throughout the night. But, tonight, your eyelids are so heavy you can barely keep them open, and within seconds, you drift off into unconsciousness, the world slipping away and the darkness consuming you. The smell of Aeri's incense and the sound of the rain lulls you into a slumber unlike never before, submerged into a dark void of nothing.
That is, until you feel something touch you. You awaken with a start, jolting upright in your bed, your heart racing. The room is dark, illuminated only by the light of the moon shining through the window. You glance around frantically, searching for the source of the touch, but there's nothing, no sign of life. Just shadows, and the sound of your breathing. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It's probably just the wind or an insect. You're tired, and your deteriorating mind is playing tricks on you. There's nothing to be scared of.
You lay back down, pulling the blankets up to your chin, and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. Your heartbeat begins to slow, and you exhale, trying to relax. A few minutes pass, and you begin to drift off once again, when, suddenly, you feel something against your neck. A cold, soft pressure. Like a feather, brushing across your skin.
"Y/N." A soft, gentle voice whispers.
Your eyes flutter open, and you are met with the sight of a woman's face, inches away from yours. You gasp and shoot up again, nearly slamming your forehead against hers. The woman backs away, allowing you to regain your bearings. You blink a few times, shaking your head to try to wake yourself up, but she remains., staring at you with an expression that could only be described as amused.
The moonlight streams in through the window, giving the woman's figure an almost ethereal glow. You've never seen her before. She has a stupefying, otherworldly, beauty about her, with dark eyes and full lips that accentuate her sharp jawline. She's wearing a black, silky nightgown that clings to her body. Her pale, delicate-looking skin shines in the moonlight, and her dark hair, interlaced with another color, cascades down her back, falling over her shoulders.
You look around the room, expecting the lights to turn on and an elaborate prank to be revealed, but the room is just as dark and empty as you remember. When your eyes fall back onto the woman, she is staring back at you, a soft smile on her face.
"Who the fuck are you?" you force out, your voice trembling.
She quirks an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. "Were you not expecting me?"
You scoff, nearly choking on your own saliva. "No! Of course not. I've never seen you before in my life. What the hell is going on? And how do you know my name?"
Her eyes light up with mirth, and her smile widens as if she's in on some sort of joke.
"Oh, this is interesting," she starts, clasping her hands together. "This is very interesting."
As a primal fear takes hold of your body, interesting is the last word that comes to your brain to describe the situation you've found yourself in. Albeit hot, this random woman broke into your apartment to do God knows what to you and your belongings. Who knows if she's already murdered Aeri. Or, perhaps, this is a lucid dream, and you're experiencing some sort of weird hallucination. Either way, you wanted out. Now.
You release a shaky exhale in a poor attempt to calm your nerves. "I'm gonna call the cops, okay? But, I really don't want any trouble. If you leave now, I won't tell anyone about this."
The woman stares at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before erupting into a fit of laughter. You blink, unsure of how to proceed. She continues to laugh, her hand clutching her chest as her whole body shakes. The sound is melodic, and it rings out like the chimes of a bell, the notes flowing effortlessly into the air. It's almost enchanting, and you find yourself lost in the melody until she quiets down and straightens up, a soft smile on her face.
"That's completely unnecessary. I'm not here to cause you any harm, Y/N," she says, and, somehow, her voice is even more hypnotic than her laugh. Some of your fear dissipates, but the confusion remains.
"Why are you here, then?" you question, unable to keep the suspicion out of your tone.
"To give you a little bit of help. I know you've been struggling." She replies, her voice dripping with sympathy.
"How do you know that?"
She smiles, the expression making her features seem even more radiant than before. "I know a lot of things. 'How' is irrelevant. What's more important is that I know exactly how I can help you tonight. You need...a stress reliever. I can do that for you. If you're up for it, that is."
"A stress reliever?" You echo, and the way her eyes sparkle in the moonlight, her lips quirked up in a seductive smirk, her voice low and smooth, makes it abundantly clear what she's implying. Your cheeks flush and heat rushes through your body. This couldn't be real. Could it?
"I don't think we're on the same page. I mean, a...stress reliever. I don't know if I understand," you say, shifting uncomfortably.
"You're a bit slow, aren't you?" she asks a devilish grin stretching across her face, and, she's probably right. You feel like a fish out of water, opening and closing your mouth like an idiot. The worst part of it is, she seems to be enjoying your floundering, grinning wider as she watches you stutter.
"There's no need to worry," she purrs, taking a step closer, her dark eyes shining. "You just need to relax. It'll be fun."
The sane, rational part of your brain is screaming, yelling, begging for you to run out of the room. Anybody with half a brain could decipher that the sensible thing to do in this situation would be to flee, grab a weapon, and call the police. Yet, here you are, lying still, the woman's words ringing in your ears. Fun. It's been a long time since you've had fun. You can't even remember the last time you've gotten remotely close to it. And, as if she was sent from above, here was a beautiful, mysterious woman, offering it to you on a platter. You can't help but be a bit curious. Curious about the strange, magical feeling that's coursing through your veins.
Plus, your body is aching for touch, and the idea of sleeping with a beautiful woman is incredibly tempting, especially in your state. It's been months since you've had sex.
The woman takes a step closer, and your stomach does a flip. This is stupid. It's dangerous, and stupid, and it would be so easy to say no.
"You won't hurt me, right?" You ask, a nervous edge creeping into your voice.
"You'll enjoy every second we spend together," she says, her eyes stroking over you. Her gaze is so intense, her voice so soothing, all you want is to please her. You don't think. You no longer have the ability to. Your desire is too strong.
"What are you going to do?" you ask, the words tumbling out of your mouth.
"That depends on you," she says, her fingers brushing the edge of the duvet. "What would you like me to do?"
You look into her dark, all-consuming eyes, and shiver. Your blood feels like it's on fire. "I—um—whatever you had in mind."
Her eyes narrow, her lips curling up into a smirk. She leans in, her warm breath ghosting your lips. You can smell her perfume, the scent of vanilla and lavender assaulting your senses.
Your heart beats fast, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes your throat.
"Are you sure?" she says, her voice low. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."
She's right. For all you knew, her idea of fun could include a knife and a casket. But you couldn't bring yourself to care, not when she's looking at you like that.
"I don't care," you say, your voice hoarse. "Do whatever you want with me."
The corners of her lips curl upwards, and her eyes twinkle with mischief. "Okay," she whispers, her voice soft and sweet.
She leans forward, her lips ghosting yours. You hold your breath, anticipating her next move. Her hand moves up to cup your cheek, her thumb rubbing small circles on your skin that send a tingle down your spine. You lean into the touch, and her smile widens. She tilts her head to the side, and presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. The contact is soft, tender, and sweet. Her lips are warm, and the touch is brief, but enough to ignite the flames within your veins. You gasp, moving your head to try to capture her lips with yours, and she chuckles, pulling away.
"You're so impatient," she says, her eyes gleaming. "Desperate, even."
Embarrassment creeps up on you, and you flush, averting your gaze. She laughs again, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.
"Don't hide from me," she whispers, her voice soft. "There's nothing wrong with wanting something."
With her words, the fire within you flares, and the embers within your belly burst into an inferno. Your whole body is burning, yearning, and you can't help the sigh that escapes your throat. She hums, staring at you with her piercing gaze. You've never felt this exposed, so vulnerable, so completely bare in front of another person, and you are still partially clothed. She seems to be studying you, taking in every detail, memorizing the expressions on your face. She's looking at you like you're prey, a feast, and it should scare you, should make you tremble, but it doesn't.
"Kiss me," you murmur, and she obeys.
You let out a small gasp, and her lips curve into a smile against yours as you make contact. Your eyes flutter shut, and the warmth of her mouth almost sends you spiraling. The feeling is electric, like a bolt of lightning, and it sets every nerve ending within your body alight. Her tongue glides along your bottom lip, and you part them willingly, allowing her all of the access she desires. Her tongue is warm, and wet, and her kisses are intoxicating. She tastes sweet, like strawberries and vanilla, and you can't help but moan.
She pulls away, prompting an involuntary whimper from you."Is this what you wanted, y/n?"
"Yes—uh," you stop yourself, realizing that you still don't know her name.
"Bada," she supplies, as if reading your mind. She places a hand on your chest, and gently pushes you back onto the bed, her gaze locked on yours. You fall onto the mattress, your eyes wide.
"Bada," you repeat softly, tasting the name on your lips. Pretty.
She smiles and slips the blankets off of you. The cool air hits your skin, sending goosebumps along your arms and legs. You suck in a sharp breath, and her eyes rake over you, drinking in the sight.
"Beautiful," she whispers, her fingers tracing up your thigh.
She leans down to press a gentle kiss on your jaw. Her lips travel down your neck, and she bites at the sensitive skin, hard. A moan slips from your mouth, and she sucks and licks at the spot, soothing the sting. Her hand trails up the inside of your thigh, and her fingertips graze the band of your underwear. You arch your back, yearning for her touch.
"Please," you whimper again, and she giggles.
"At least you're polite," she says, biting down on your neck again.
Her teeth scrape against your skin, and you gasp, grabbing a fistful of her hair. You pull her closer, desperate to remove any shred of distance between the two of you. She groans, her nails digging into your thigh, her touch searing hot. She sucks at the tender skin below your collarbone, and you whine, heat pooling between your legs. It was a little humiliating, getting so worked up despite the fact that she's barely done anything, but it was hard not to when she's touching as if she wants nothing more than to devour you.
"So impatient," she purrs, her eyes gleaming. "So needy."
She kisses the mark she made on your neck, and you squirm, the pressure between your thighs growing.
Her fingers move higher, ghosting over your underwear, and you writhe under her touch, letting out a frustrated groan. She pulls away, a smirk on her lips.
"Something wrong?"
"You're fucking with me," you hiss, and she laughs out loud.
"Your impatience is cute," she says, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin on your neck, pausing where your heartbeat pulsed, right beneath your jaw. "Can't help it."
You watch as she moves her hand away from your neck, back to your underwear. Her fingers slip under the band of your panties, already dark and wet, and she runs them through your folds, spreading your already abundant slickness. You couldn't stand that you were so clearly proving her point about how needy you were, giving her more to make fun of you about, but how could you not be? It's been too long. and you don't know if it's ever felt this good this early on.
Your head falls back onto the pillow, and your hands clutch at the sheets, desperate for purchase. The feeling of her thumb brushing against your clit makes your hips buck up, and she pulls away to pull down your panties.
You shiver, the cool air hitting your exposed skin. She grabs your thighs, spreading them apart, and the anticipation nearly kills you on the spot.
"So pretty," she says, her voice filled with wonder.
She looks up at you, her eyes darker than before. She holds your gaze, and without breaking eye contact, ducks her head, and swipes her tongue along your slit.
A moan escapes your lips, and your back arches, your fingers threading through her hair. Her tongue moves in circles, and you feel her hands grasp at your thighs as you inadvertently try shut them close around her head. She spreads them further apart, and presses her mouth against your center, sucking on the bundle of nerves.
"F—fuck," you moan, your head thrown back, eyes shut.
She moans into you, the vibrations causing pleasure to erupt inside of you. You grip the sheets, the fabric crumpling underneath your fingers. She pulls away, and your eyes fly open, only to meet her intense gaze.
"Watch me," she whispers, her voice husky.
Your eyes snap to her face, and she smiles, her fingers trailing down your stomach. You squirm under her touch, and she grips your thighs, her eyes locked on yours. Her staring does something to you, makes the goosebumps rise on your skin, a funny feeling arise in your stomach. She presses her lips against the inside of your thigh, her eyes not leaving yours.
She slips a finger inside of you, and you gasp, the sudden intrusion causing a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. She curls her finger, and you arch your back, the friction driving you crazy.
"That's it," she purrs, adding another finger.
You throw your head back, moaning as she begins to thrust her fingers, moving in a steady rhythm. You clench around her fingers, and her eyes widen, a mischievous glint shining in her irises. You bite your lip, the pressure building, and she smirks, increasing the pace of her movements. She crooks her fingers, hitting a sensitive spot inside of you.
"Fuck," you cry out, and her lips curl upwards, pleased.
She leans forward, her lips capturing yours, her tongue invading your mouth. She swallows your moans, and you can feel her smiling against your lips. She pulls away, and rests her forehead against yours, her dark eyes boring into yours.
"Are you going to come for me, y/n?"
"Y-yes," you whimper, and she laughs, her hot breath fanning against your cheek.
She thrusts her fingers faster, and her thumb rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your breaths come out short and quick, and your head spins, the room spinning.
"Come on," she whispers, her voice low and sultry.
The pressure builds, and you can feel the edge coming. You gasp, your eyes shut, and your whole body tenses up, the pleasure rippling through your body. You let out a string of curses, and she slows her movements, riding out the aftershocks.
"That's it," she murmurs, her fingers leaving your core.
She trails her fingers up your torso, and leans down, her lips hovering above yours.
"Open up," she commands, her voice taking on a deeper cadence that makes you immediately obey. She pushes her fingers inside of your mouth, and your tongue dances around her digits, tasting yourself, a musky flavor that leaves you feeling lightheaded. She hums and removes her fingers, a trail of saliva connecting her digits to your mouth.
"Good." she whispers, her breath tickling your cheek.
Your eyes flutter shut, and your head spins. You're exhausted, and you almost feel as if you're about to pass out, but her praise and proximity sends a thrill through you, your heart fluttering at her words. She presses another soft kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on her tongue. She pulls away, a lazy smile on her face.
Through your exhaustion, you manage to meet her gaze again, and you nearly gasp. Her pupils had swollen, the dark brown of her eyes merely a slim ring around a black void, devoid of any color. You swallow hard, a slight panic rising within you as you suddenly remembering the reality of the predicament you're in. Or, was it even reality?
"W—what's happening?" you stutter, the words tumbling from your mouth.
She grins, and you realize for the first time that her teeth are razor sharp, looking as if they could tear your flesh to shreds.
"I'm taking care of you, that's what's happening, silly." she says, her voice taking on a sing-songy quality. Her hand trails down your side. "And I'm not quite finished, yet."
She leans down and captures your lips in another kiss so rough that it nearly bruises. You're still dizzy, the blood pumping through your veins, and your head still feels as if it's full of cotton. As soon as her hands meet your skin, your exhaustion and worry disappear, replaced by euphoria. She reaches under your shirt, her fingers dancing along your torso, and you moan, your mind foggy. You can't help the small sounds that escape from your lips as she touches you, her fingers tracing every curve, every angle, committing every inch of your body to memory. Soon, your top is tossed to the side, and her hands are exploring your bare skin. Her fingers run up your spine, and you shiver, goosebumps forming. She pulls away, and a whine falls from your lips, a sound that causes her to laugh.
"So easy to please," she teases.
"Sh-shut up," you protest weakly.
Suddenly, she grabs you by the waist, pulling you into her lap with an ease that catches you off guard. You're stunned into silence, and she wraps her arms around you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. You let out a yelp, and her nails dig into your skin, the sting making you bite back a groan. She places her chin on top of your shoulder, and her hands move lower, settling on your hips. She squeezes and forces your hips into a grind, her thigh meeting the apex of your legs. Your eyes flutter shut, a wave of heat pooling between your legs, a warmth filling the pit of your stomach, a small moan escaping your lips. She chuckles, her breath tickling the back of your neck.
"Fuck," you choke out, the embarrassment clear in your tone as you continue to your center against the smooth skin of her thigh.
"You're funny," she murmurs with a smile, and presses a kiss on your cheek.
A blush creeps onto your cheeks, and you hide your face, burying it into her neck. You inhale deeply, her scent filling your nose. She still smells so sweet, like dessert, and you want to lick her, devour her, but instead, you press your lips to her skin, and she moans, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark.
"God, you're so beautiful," she whispers, her nails digging into your hips. "So, so pretty."
You moan, the heat between your legs intensifying. Her words go straight to your core, and you can't help the small, high-pitched whine that leaves your mouth, a sound you'd be ashamed of if not for the fact that you can't think, can't focus, can't even process her words.
One of her hands slips around your waist, grabbing at the bare flesh of your ass. Your breath hitches, and she pulls you closer, her mouth finding the spot on your neck that drives you wild. Her teeth scrape against your skin, and her tongue laps at the hollow of your collarbone, the sensation eliciting a loud moan. You tilt your head, allowing her access, and her mouth moves downward, to your breast, her tongue circling one of your nipples. Your eyes squeeze shut, the tension in your abdomen mounting. It was overstimulating, her thighs, the way her tongue felt against you, the way her fingers squeezed at the flesh of your ass, the way her hands explored the planes of your body, and it was all too much.
"I'm gonna—" you start, and her hand moves between your legs, pressing her fingers against your throbbing clit.
You let out a cry, the orgasm hitting you hard, the intensity somehow stronger than before. Her fingers slide easily against you, and you clench around her, the waves of pleasure washing over your body.
She lets out a soft sigh, and she pulls away, her black eyes meeting yours. You don't care enough to feel frightened this time though, being so flooded with exhaustion that you collapse back onto the bed, barely able to keep your eyes open. Sharp, short breaths escape from your lips, and a numbness starts to spread throughout your limbs, a strange calm settling over your body that you've never felt before. Somewhere in the back of your brain, alarm bells are going off, but they're drowned out by a heavy sleepiness that takes over you.
"Go back to sleep, Y/N." she says, her voice distant, muffled. "It's alright."
You can feel the weight of the world bearing down on your shoulders, and the bags under your eyes seem to grow heavier and darker with every passing second. It has been a very long time since you were last able to sleep properly. You wanted to talk to Bada more, but you can feel yourself beginning to lose control, your mind going blank and your muscles becoming weak.
"Bada..." you mumble, her name rolling off your tongue.
Before you can further speak, the darkness seeps into your mind, and you allow yourself to succumb. But, the feeling that accompanies you into sleep is an uneasy one, a cold sensation wrapping itself around your body like a snake squeezing the life out of its prey.
"Good night," Bada whispers, the words echoing in the darkness, the sound fading into nothingness.
#bada lee#bada lee fanfic#bada lee x reader#bada lee x y/n#swf2#street woman fighter 2#bada lee imagine#bada lee smut
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I need to vent about Watcher, endure it if you can
Relax, this isn't a parasocial thing, but it is a long ass post, which suits me as a long ass human.
I need an outlet to discuss the terrible business decision Watcher has made by announcing their plan to leave YouTube, and this long-forgotten Tumblr account reached from its grave to grab at my ankle.
If you didn't see their video, good for you. It's extremely cringe-worthy in its sentimentality and editing, with blurry shots, pensive pauses and obligatory sad piano.
But at least there's no f'ing Ukulele.
Although, I think we might get the Ukulele in a few months.
Even though anyone who reads this is probably familiar with what the "Ghoul Boys" have done, I feel as though I need to add a little history.
WATCHER HISTORY
You can skip this part if you've been obsessively following the shenanigans, this is for the noobs who were never a "shaniac" or a "boogara".
Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara used to work at Buzzfeed. They hosted the successful Buzzfeed Unsolved shows. In 2019 they followed in the footsteps of the Try Guys and Safia Nygaaard and left Buzzfeed to create their own YouTube channel named "Watcher".
They brought along Steven Lim, another Buzzfeed person who is most known for the "Worth It" series. This series followed Lim and his friend/s spending obscene amounts of money on obscenely overpriced and indulgent products.
Think of it as being similar to the $100 V's $10,000 Sidemen content, only without the self-awareness and British "bad lads" humor.
Notably, even the Sidemen seem to have cut back on those adventures, perhaps understanding how bad it looks when so many people are struggling to pay their essential bills.
Steven became the CEO of Watcher while Shane and Ryan continued to create and present for the new channel.
They were wildly successful by YouTube standards. At the time of their self-spanking on Friday they were close to achieving 3 million subscribers, in just 4 years, based on basically only 2 cornerstone shows. If Social Blade is still a reasonably trusted source in everything but estimating income, they were gaining thousands of new subscribers every week.
Their most successful shows were Ghost Files, Puppet History, Too Many Spirits and Mystery Files.
Ghost Files is the only one of these shows which requires heavy investment, travel, a large crew and impressive production costs. These videos are shot on-location and require a lot of work. The rest are basically Good Mythical Morning style, just the two hosts and their banter.
Aside from Ghost Files, their content could be created with 3 cameras, 2 lapel mics and a good editor.
They were massively successful, solely because of Ryan and Shane.
THE DEMISE
So, what did they do on Friday 19th April? They decided to announce the launch of their own subscription platform.
Not a Patreon for extra content, behind-the-scenes, audience interaction etc, (they already had a Patreon with 6,000 paying subscribers earning them at least $50k a month), but a bespoke streaming platform which looks like a clone of Netflix.
The cost is $5.99 a month, or $60 a year.
Comparable to Netflix.
And by that I mean the price is comparable to Netflix while the content is comparable to a 4 year old YouTube channel.
Don't get me wrong, their production quality is incredible. The quantity, however, is not.
From the end of May viewers will have to pay to be a subscriber on their own platform in order to watch their shows.
They'll still be posting their trailers on YouTube, and the first episodes of new shows, but to watch it all you'll have to pay up or miss out.
Edited to add: Variety originally reported the Watcher crew were planning to remove all their existing content from YouTube to monetize it on their own platform. It's since been confirmed they will not be removing their old content. Fans are undecided whether this was a back-track after the announcement or a misunderstanding by Variety. You be the judge.
Of course, they're entitled to do this. They are creating a product and you can either enjoy it or not. No one is entitled to see it, for free, whenever they like.
Why did they do this?
Half of the sombre video gushes about their "humble beginnings" as "struggling young guys in a big harsh world", which comes across as extremely self-indulgent and ego-stroking.
A quarter of it explains how insanely successful they've been on YouTube and how this is all thanks to the fans who stuck with them after Buzzfeed, how it's allowed them to hire 25 people, how it's given them the freedom to create what they enjoy making and what the viewers want to see, and - most importantly - how it's allowed them to increase production quality on Ghost Files.
The final quarter of the video explains that this isn't good enough, the quality isn't high enough, the finish not glossy enough, it's not "TV caliber" enough! They want more, they need more, you have to give them more, mostly (apparently) because their CEO Steven Lim wants to bring back his show where he flies around the world with his bestie sipping Champagne and eating gold-leaf-covered lobster.
In short, they want more money to make even bigger things, even though their audience never asked for that.
WHY IT WILL NOT WORK
Oh my goodness, this is going to be a ride so strap in.
I'm not a YouTube creator so there are a lot of things I do not know. Having said that, I know a little about business.
This ain't Buzzfeed, y'all
Watcher became successful because of Ryan and Shane. It was their friendship, their personalities, and the content we loved to watch featuring them at Buzzfeed, that brought us along for the ride.
The audience they poached from Buzzfeed is there for them and Ghost Files. It's not there for Steven Lim and "Worth It". His show worked under the Buzzfeed umbrella only because they had numerous sub-categories in that community to support it.
The Try Guys left and created their own channel from their Buzzfeed fans.
Safia Nygaard left and created her own channel from her Buzzfeed fans.
Shane and Ryan left and created Watcher from their Buzzfeed fans.
Steven Lim left and became the CEO of Watcher. He didn't take his audience with him.
The audience of Watcher is not the audience of "watch me fly around the word with my pal and spend $100K on hand-reared, Whiskey marinaded, diamond-encrusted Kobe steak".
And... IN THIS ECONOMY?
Steven chose to become a CEO instead of a presenter. He's missed the opportunity to take that Buzzfeed audience with him.
This is made clear by the Watcher channel itself. Their "man eats food" content rarely breaks 500K views while their Ghost Files breaks 2 million consistently.
If a million of their viewers followed them from Buzzfeed to Watcher, the other 2 million have joined them since, based almost entirely on their spoopy content.
Not only did they base their channel on this genre and format, they have distilled their audience further ever since the creation of their channel and no matter how hard they try to diversify into "man eats food" it's just not working.
This ain't Netflix, y'all
As mentioned, the $5.99 charge is comparable to Netflix and just about every other streaming platform. Only Watcher can't give you even 5% of what a competing platform can offer for that price.
Other platforms also tailor their content and their pricing based on geographical location and localized economics.
You're paying far less than $5.99 a month if you live in an economy where the median household income is $300 a month. YouTube has a global audience. Their subscribers don't all live in a stable economy where $5.99 is considered disposable income.
We don't know the numbers, but I would guess only 60% of their subscribers are based in the USA, Canada, and the UK.
Even for those who do live in a stable economy, their audience is predominantly young adults and students. Most young adults are currently facing the reality that they will possibly never own their own home, they're living day-to-day trying to budget.
They've instantly priced-out a large % of their audience.
I confidently predict that diehard fans who can't see anything wrong with this will sign up for $5.99 a month, binge watch for a couple of weeks, realize there's no new spoopy content and cancel.
They'll come back when a full season of Ghost Files has arrived, pay again, binge it and leave.
Steven Lim thinks they're gonna get $5.99 a month, every month, from thousands of subscribers. In reality they're going to get maybe $12 a year, from people signing up to binge watch what they want, then leaving.
This will then decline naturally as attention wanes during the months where there is no spoopy.
This ain't good marketing, y'all
They're going to be posting "trailers and season pilots" on YouTube.
Sure, I bet YouTube is gonna be totes okay with a channel doing nothing but trying to hijack traffic for an external site.
Posting nothing but trailers and season premiers will mean maybe one full video per month during busy seasons. That's not enough to remain relevant for the algorithm.
If 80% of those posts are also just trailers saying "leave YouTube and come here", the channel will be smacked down quicker than a crypto scam using an AI generated Elongated Muskrat.
Their channel was growing steadily, but that was with full content regularly posted. When the schedule drops off, and when most of it is considered spammy by YouTube, it's going to collapse like a flan in a cupboard.
A streaming platform needs a constant flow of new subscribers just to replace the gradual drop-off (maybe ask Rooster Teeth about that). When your global audience at YouTube is gone, where are those new subscribers coming from?
The platform is also an additional overhead. It's going to cost thousands a month to keep the servers going.
This ain't good financial management, y'all
I don't know if they've already spent hundreds of thousands of $s on Lim's "men eat food" gamble, but I suspect they have.
I know they have spent hundreds of thousands of $s on a new season of Ghost Files, flying to the UK to host live events while filming those episodes.
This means they've over-extended their finances just at the moment where they've cratered their opportunities to see a return on investment.
Just that, on its own, is enough to destroy a production company.
They do not need 25 employees any more than I need an editor and proof-reader for this long ass post.
They do not need a production studio in Hollywood any more than I needed an office to write this.
They do not need to spend tens of thousands of $s on glossy graphics that appear on screen for maybe 4 seconds in one episode any more than I needed to add screengrabs to this painfully long essay.
By leaving YouTube they've lost:
Adsense revenue (which might not be much on a per-video basis but adds up with a back catalogue over years of productions)
Sponsorship deals, which allegedly contributes almost 50% of their annual revenue.
Merch sales, which is about to crash if the only people they can promote merch to are already paying per month in their smaller ecosystem.
Patreon. Why would someone pay $5.99 twice, for the same or less content?
And they've abandoned all of this for maybe a few thousand people who will probably end up paying just $12 a year when a new spoopy season arrives for them to binge.
I'm no Will Hunting, but no matter how hard I try to make the numbers work they just don't, and I don't need Robin Williams to tell me it's not my fault.
This ain't nice, y'all
Some of you are feeling like Ned's wife right now, and some of you will have no idea what that's in reference to.
Most of you will hate that I made that reference more than you hated the SNL skit.
I get it.
Maybe the worst part about all of his, from a viewer's perspective, is the dismissive nature of their sign-off.
They didn't mention the Patreon members once, not one single time in the whole video. It's like they consider the Patreon "too YouTube". They're the deformed cousin locked in the attic. They're the relative who wasn't invited to the wedding because they can't afford a Tom Ford suit. They're the colleague who isn't invited to the staff night out because they only work in accounting and no one has anything in common with Janice anyway.
These are diehard fans who were actually paying them extra to support them and enjoy a little bonus behind the scenes, and the boys didn't even consider them worthy of an utterance.
They also finished with "If you don't follow us and pay up it's been real, peace out". I'm paraphrasing, but that's basically what it was.
They spent so much of the video saying how awesome and great it was that the fans and YouTube got them to this point, but they didn't thank their Patreon members, and they ended with a blunt suggestion that if you don't follow them and pay more then you're not a real fan anyway and they don't really need you.
"Thanks for getting us here, sucks to be you, bye now!"
You made them wealthy, you helped them hire 25 people, you helped them increase production value to "TV caliber" even though you didn't ask for that, but your job is done and now you're superfluous. Only the real fans are wanted.
In the words of the great George Carlin - "It's a big club, and you ain't in it".
They're okay losing the vast majority of the people who got them here if a few thousand of those are comfortable enough to be able to pay $60 a year for a YouTube channel.
Can it get worse? Sure!
We've had a weekend to enjoy the constant heat of this bonfire and it's predictably worsened with each hour of silence from the company and its employees.
The fact that they haven't back-tracked, despite almost unanimous agreement that this is badder than the baddest thing that could happen to their company, suggests they're okay with it.
Consensus seems to be that they knew it would be this bad, and they're cool. They predicted 90% of people would scream "Boo to you good sirs! Boo indeed!" and they could still survive on the 10% who don't see a problem here.
The lack of response reinforces the narrative that they're totally fine with discarding almost their entire audience if they can just squeeze the cash they need out of whoever is left.
This ain't fixable, y'all (maybe)
Note: I don't want this to be mean, but it's going to sound a little bitchy no matter how I try to say it.
If they'd brought out the Ukulele on Saturday, or even teased Ukulele's on their socials before putting out a video on Sunday, they probably could have survived this with much hand-wringing and a little groveling.
But now I think they've grilled this Kobe steak for far too long.
They've lost 100K subscribers, and counting. The venom among Patreon members is allegedly worse than the public comments section under the video, which is startling. Dozens of YouTubers are torching them harder than a $100 crème brûlée.
People are scraping their channel content in case it's nuked.
Shane "eat the rich" Madej's sentiments over the last few years look disingenuous, to say the least. To shamelessly steal someone else's comment: "Imagine being all 'eat the rich' right before throwing yourself on the plate". He's silent while his McMansion burns down, at his own hands. "Why not!?" indeed.
Steven "I drive a Tesla" Lim's socials now make him look like a tech-bro try-hard and his use of words like "early adopter" and "soft launch" in the video only compound the belief that this was all his brainchild. He is the CEO, and that comes with responsibility and the associated blame. You can't steer the ship into the Bermuda Triangle and then disappear without looking like the bad guy.
Okay, you can disappear, but that convoluted metaphor is a mystery for someone else to solve.
Ryan "TV caliber" Bergara now sounds like an elitist who thinks YouTube is "too pedestrian" for his big plans, not big enough to meet his artistic vision. You see, he's more James Cameron, while YouTube is more like your student film club. He's grown beyond this pesky platform with billions of daily hits offering exponential growth with almost zero financial risk.
Even if they released a video today admitting they messed up big time it's still going to be hard to get the taste of this Ghost Pepper Warhead out of the collective mouth of their viewers.
This hasn't just burned their shared brand, it's singed their individual reputations among an audience upon which their careers rely.
What they should have done, on Saturday, is release a video (Ukulele or no) confessing their error. They should have announced their new platform will instead just be a bigger and better Patreon, with early access to everything, behind-the-scenes content, extra features, audience interaction etc.
They should have reversed to make clear their YouTube channel will stay the priority, their main source of revenue, but that you could get more on their own platform if you want it.
And, maybe, over time, people will pay for that. If they grow their channel to 6 million subscribers in the next 4 years there will be a couple hundred thousand of them willing and able to pay $5.99 a month for 8 years of shows, 8 years of behind the scenes content, 8 years of community involvement and regular early access to new episodes.
Maybe then they could try out their "privileged guys eat expensive food in expensive places" show and see how it does? Maybe a majority of people won't be living on the cusp of poverty by then and it won't look as tone-deaf as a 13 year old YouTuber trying to cover Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah"? Maybe then they could hire another 50 people and make Bergara's "TV caliber" (I still don't know exactly what that means) game shows and reboots?
The clock has been ticking since they hit that "publish" button on their career ending video, but that clock is about to count down to zero and silence will permeate throughout their previously lively community.
That 1980s basement set needed someone crying in the corner, right?
The problem is, their own platform is not a terrible idea. Really, it's not the worst thing they could do. The badness came in the timing, the switch, the middle finger and the f you. They could have released this as an extra, their own Patreon alternative, waited, developed it over time into something sustainable and established.
They could still try to do that and hope this dark chapter is forgotten.
Maybe I'm wrong? Maybe Lim is a financial genius with more skill than the management of Rooster Teeth and their corporate parent company combined? Maybe this gamble will be wildly successful despite all streaming services down-sizing or just going bankrupt? Maybe they won't be back on YouTube in 3-6 months begging for views after having to lay off 20 of their employees?
I know this... if I were one of those 25 employees blind faith would not be enough to stop me from looking for another job.
I suppose this will, for now, remain... a mystery.
EDIT:
I'm not writing another essay about this, but I'm glad to see they've backtracked and made the right choice to use WatcherTV as any sane creator would - to host early access and exclusive content in addition to their YouTube channel.
Over time, while promoting it in every video, building up that trust and fan base, it can be a secure and long-term financial bonus helping them to expand their business incrementally as finances allow.
Why this wasn't the plan all along is anyone's guess. Gambling everything on this was never the sane decision.
I still think they need to scale back on costs. I still think the food content is not currently a viable source of income while being a serious drain on resources. I still think they need to stop hiring all their friends and they need to hire one person who doesn't have personal relationships with everyone there and can make the tough business decisions.
No one likes firing people, it's ten times worse when it's a friend. But this is a reality of business and just wishing it wasn't so isn't going to make it go away. It would be awesome if we could all run a business where we can hire all our friends and family, never have to rely on any outside funding, make whatever we want, make a great living in one of the most expensive cities in the world and continue to grow.
That's just not the reality.
Their apology was genuine, in my opinion. I just hope they can work out the right financial balance.
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Terzo x F!Reader - comfort, fluff, piggybacks, soft soft soft. You come home after a long day, and your Papa is waiting with a stern look, and a firm back.
A Vow “Amore mio,” Terzo’s voice is stern, almost scolding the moment you walk in the door. The evening’s paper crumples in his hands and he sets it down on the dining room table. His hands land on his hips, the backs of them with his fingers pointed behind him, a move you had often seen in videos of his stage performances.
Today has been…hard. If you were being honest with yourself, everyday has been hard. If there was a reason for it, your mind couldn’t come up with any one specific thing, but did it matter? You feel bad. Your body wants to slump to the floor, and all you can think of is your bed and maybe a hit or two, but Terzo’s expression stops you in your tracks right inside the front door.
His heavy brow is pinched and he walks steadily toward you, one foot swinging in front of the other as if he were loping in slow motion. You wrack your mind for what else you could have done wrong today to make him look at you so, but your eyes widen in confusion as he abruptly turns and kneels down in front of you. Terzo glances over his shoulder, now patient and smiling.
“Your chariot awaits,” he purrs, the words falling over themselves in a sing-song quality mixed with his Italian accent.
“What are you doing?” You sound bewildered, your hands falling on his back as you peer down at him.
“I am taking you to bed. You look weary, amore. Let Papa help you, eh?”
“You want me to climb on your back?” The idea appeals to you greatly, and a small smile crosses your lips. The first all day. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Terzo chuckles in response, backing up until he bumps against you, making you take a step back. “Summers playing calcio as a boy did more for my thighs than you think. Among other, more stimulating cardio exercises.” His voice drops, and the suggestion behind it makes you blush. “I can lift you.”
You’re too excited to argue more. You want to be taken care of, and here was your Papa, literally kneeling in front of you, willing to do so. It felt nice to be loved like this. And you know Terzo does love you. It’s in his every look, and the way he looks at you now…he’s concerned.
You smile at him, and it lightens his face. You settle yourself over his back, and he stands up in one swift movement. You make a short squeal, trying to hang on and he adjusts his hold on you, making sure your thighs are tucked securely under his arms. He didn’t make a sound, although you’ve often heard him groaning or muttering when he drops a pencil or has to get down to the floor. Your Papa was an old man despite his attempts to hide it, but at this moment you could imagine him twenty years younger.
“Are you okay?” You ask him softly, your chin resting on his shoulder. Terzo turns his head against yours, his dark hair now interspersed with silver since he stopped dying it tickling your nose.
“You keep me strong, ragazza mia,” he murmurs. “Allow me to do the same for you.”
He carries you through your shared quarters, your life together reflected back at you from a new height. Pictures on the wall, your favorite blanket, which he remembers to pick up as you pass by, on the couch. Your cat slumbers peacefully on the carpet in front of the coffee table, and for the first time in days you feel your heart lightening.
He passes into the bedroom and gently deposits you on the bed. Terzo meticulously takes off both of your shoes, and then your socks. He takes his time to press his thumbs into your soles and you almost protest. You’ve been on your feet, they’re probably sweaty, but he doesn’t care. How could he? Love doesn’t mean shying away from the little things that make us human.
“Do you want to talk, amore?” He asks, his voice softened considerably. He watches you relax on the bed, and his features look anguished when you take in a shaky breath, trying everything you can to not cry.
“I don’t know,” you whisper, focusing on the way Terzo pulls your legs out of your pants, his gentle hands continuing their massage on your calves. “It’s hard to put it into words. And I don’t want you to think I’m unhappy with you.”
Terzo clicks his tongue and he lets go to climb into bed beside you. Pulling you around, he spoons you, his legs intertwined with yours, and his large hands firm on your belly. “I do not think that. I have been in the dark before, amore. You found me there many times. And it is not a thing easily explained, sì? It is a feeling greater than words with clawed hands that want to pull you down again and again.” His voice is a murmur, soothing against your ear. He kisses the back of your neck.
“I know this. But I am here. And I will never let the dark have you for long. But that does not mean that I can rush in and fight it, and everything will be okay. It is a slow journey, one that I vowed to go along with you. And I promise, we will make it out on the other side.”
Your tears do fall then. But they’re good. Cleansing. The kind that helps set you free. You turn in his arms and he gathers you close, pressing little kisses against your cheeks, forehead, and nose. He whispers to you, some in English, some Italian, but they all mean the same thing. He loves you. And you love him. And he’s right.
It may take a while, and you may have to fight really hard, but in Terzo’s arms you know it will be okay.
♡⸝⸝
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#the band ghost#papa emeritus iii#terzo emeritus#papa terzo#fluff#the band ghost fanfiction#papa emeritus iii x female reader
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got a weird amount of baby fever recently out of nowhere (i lied it was from another fic i read) so here’s whatever the hell this is
tags: male!reader, the itoshi bros having somewhat of a better friendship, both are implied to be adults for plot purposes, proofread but like at 4am so the correctness was in god’s hands w.c: 0.3k note: oji is a way of saying uncle in japanese
“come on sweetie, say dada.” you squatted down and held up your phone camera, recording your one year old baby.
“no no, say papa,” sae said, kneeling right in front of his son and watching him make sounds that vaguely resembled sentences. he’s been babbling and humming random sounds a lot more often so you and sae were lowkey betting on whose name would be his first word. if you zoomed in far enough in the recording, you could see the sparkles of anticipation in sae’s eyes as he listened out carefully. “oh my god wait, he’s saying something.”
“o…”
“huh?” “that does not sound like dada or papa.”
“oji…”
a confused yet tense silence filled the room as you both looked at your baby in absolute surprise. the look of mortification on sae’s face was priceless and you caught it all on camera.
“what the fuck did this kid just say?”
“sae!” you elbowed him in the arm. “don’t say that in front of him unless you want it to be his second word.”
“well i’d rather that than it being rin’s name. i swear i’m never letting him watch our kid again after this.” he stood up and picked up the baby off the ground.
“oh please it’s not that bad. it’s not like he prefers rin over us. it’s actually pretty cute that rin’s spending quality time with his nephew.”
“god, when did rin even teach him japanese..?” he shook his head and looked at his child with the slightest bit of offense in his eyes. sae whispered, “you traitor.” he held him on his side and carried him out of the living room. “just for that, you’re getting an early nap.”
later that day, rin texted you, asking why he received a snide voicemail from sae, telling him he has to try harder if he wants to steal his son away from him. To which you responded by sending him the video of sae’s horrified reaction to his son saying uncle as his first word, figuring rin at least be amused to learn that he has a new upper hand over his brother.
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#★ snail.writes ★#blue lock#blue lock x reader#blue lock x male reader#sae itoshi#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi x male reader#blue lock drabbles#blue lock x you#scheduled#wrote this while watching b99 highlights
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