#man i've written a lot of stuff
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verai-marcel · 1 year ago
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Author Interview
Tagged by the illustrious @a-shakespearean-in-paris
1. how many works do you have on AO3?
125 (my god, so many)
2. what’s your total AO3 word count?
507,692
3. what fandoms do you write for?
Used to write for Dragon Ball Z and Red Dead Redemption 2. Now I just write for Baldur's Gate 3.
4. what are your top five fics by kudos?
One and Only (RDR2)
Getting Into Character (RDR2)
Something New (RDR2)
Know Your Place (RDR2)
Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3)
5. do you respond to comments?
Yeah, I try to respond to most of them, although sometimes when it's just one word, I'm not sure what to say, haha.
6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Probably Midnight Rendezvous, and that one isn't even that angsty because I wrote a sequel to give Arthur x Reader a happy ending, haha.
7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
The majority of my fics have a happy ending (wink wink nudge nudge). But seriously, which would I say has the absolute happiest? Hmmm... Probably The Light That You Shine, which is my only John Marston x Reader fic, strangely enough. I think I put the characters through some shit and they come out very happy at the end.
8. do you get hate on fics?
Not that I'm aware of?
9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?
Do I write smut? HAH. I write nothing BUT smut, my dear. Well, with a few exceptions. As for what kind of smut? Not sure how to answer that. I write between canon characters and between canon character & reader, and I've got some OC x OC stuff too. Or is the question more like what genre of smut? I've probably written most kinds (soft & gentle, hard & rough, and everything in between).
10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?
Well. I could lie and say I don't. But unfortunately in high school I wrote a DBZ-Sailor Moon-YYH crossover, and I regret its existence.
11. have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of...
12. have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope! But if someone wanted to do it, they have my blessing!
13. have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes, with the wonderful @shootybangbang
14. what’s your all-time favourite ship?
Hmmmm.... All-time, you say. I'd have to say... probably Vegeta x Bulma. Even after all this time.
15. what’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
I have a OC x Arthur fic that I really liked making the story for, but it'll forever live as a few drabbles cobbled together. Oh Grace, you'll never get a full fic and I'm sorry.
16. what are your writing strengths?
I've been told that I know when to summarize plot points so that the story doesn't drag on for too long. Also I've been told that my smut writing is some of the best, for its clarity and hotness. I'll accept that compliment, haha!
17. what are your writing weaknesses?
Not descriptive enough at times. The most comments I get on my Google docs from my friends are "elaborate more on this point". Totally fair! And personally, I think I have the writer's equivalent of 'same face syndrome' that some artists have. Like my "reader" character tends to be pretty same-y through a lot of my Arthur x Reader fics...
18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
If a character is using another language, I try to make sure that there is a reason for it, that it isn't just for flair. For example, if I have a character blurt something out in another language suddenly, then it means they've been thrown off guard and are going back to their first language. Or if two characters are speaking another language together, then they're either hiding something from others, or they grew up that way and are falling back to old habits.
19. first fandom you wrote for?
Oof, I had to go back to some archived files to figure this out. Probably Yu Yu Hakusho, back in 1999, although I suspect I had some older fics in the Gundam Wing fandom, but I don't have any digital evidence of them, I think they were on a GW Mailing List from Yahoo, of all places.
20. favourite fic you’ve written?
The one I'm writing right now :D (Your Heart is My Home)
Tagging @shootybangbang @twola @cheesewedge @sad-sweet-cowboah @riskpig
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kagooleo · 3 months ago
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my WIPs are so unorganized but rice is forever, in doodles and Even when coding >:]
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somegrumpynerd · 6 months ago
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HEY. POINTS FINGER… any thoughts on how everyone reacted when the other joined the team? as in how did killer react when dust came, how did he and dust react when horror came, how did they all react when cross came, etc. i love love LOVE your bad sanses thoughts way too much they make me so happy. if i write hurt you write comfort and it’s awesome. also how do you think they slowly started to get closer? just.. bah give me your thoughts on them!!!! any thoughts!!!!!!!!!
You fool!! You’ve given me a chance to ramble about my special little guys and now this post will stretch on forever!! Mwahahahahah >:3c
No but seriously this is probably gonna be wicked long cause I have 1 million thoughts about these guys joining and meeting each other so uh, readmore for everybody’s safety and sanity
(^ I wrote that in the document before I started typing out my actual thoughts and uh
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yeah no kidding, this is like a fucking essay so proceed with caution)
OKAY SO
I’ve said before that Nightmare got Dust for two reasons; one being that Dream had just recently started working with Ink (and soon Blue) so he and Killer were no longer able to gang up on Dream. He wanted somebody else to bulk up their numbers and give Killer a little back up. He also was starting to realise that Killer didn’t handle being alone very well, since this was when he most often got worked up and broke things around the castle (and sometimes tipped over into stage 3). Dust would be a perfect fit since he had the same amount of lvl and fighting experience as Killer, and since they were so close in circumstance they would be practically like brothers right?
The irony that he thought this about a guy he was recruiting to help kill his brother was apparently lost on him.
They absolutely hated each other. Like, it was instant. Killer saw him as a replacement, why would boss go out and get another sans - one with almost the same backstory as me - when I’m right here? Does he think I’m not good enough? Am I disposable and this is the backup for when I die in combat? He didn’t take it well. He took it all out on Dust too, not cooperating in battle, trying to start fights in the castle, etc. He couldn’t outright kill him because Nightmare had given him strict orders not to, but Killer loves a loophole. If he roughed Dust up down to 1hp and something else happened to finish him off, technically he’d followed orders.
Dust just straight up didn’t want to be there. Nightmare just showing up and yoinking him had worked fine with Killer, but Dust had wanted to sit in his empty au and die, he had no intention of joining a team or doing work of any kind - good or bad. The only reason he didn’t just lie down and refuse the entire time was that he had to fight back against Killer, as much as he wanted to die he refused to give this ass the satisfaction or lvl. He didn’t intend to be any help out in the field either, but again, Killer was making sure he got fired at so he had to retaliate to stay alive.
Eventually it got bad enough that Nightmare had to pull Killer aside and demand answers. In the year or so of knowing him Killer had never willfully disobeyed orders before, so Nightmare needed to know what had gotten into him. He dispelled the replacement rumour right away, he still wasn’t quite softened up enough to be sappy about it but he made sure Killer understood what a good worker he was and that Nightmare had no intention of losing him. It didn’t help a lot, they still hated each other for other reasons, but it eased a little.
Killer still had pretty frequent dips into stage 3, except now he would go straight for Dust usually. Nightmare had tried to explain what he’d learned about it to Dust, but he didn’t really believe that it wasn’t just Killer deciding to try and kill him for funsies. He only accepted it after a particular episode where he attacked Nightmare instead, which Dust knew Killer wouldn’t try in his right mind.
After he came back to his senses he sought Dust out. The air around Killer was very different after a stage 3, sort of sombre and almost calm, so Dust let them sit together and Killer apologised for giving him such a hard time. They actually talked for the first time in months while Killer was still calm (or tolerable, as Dust describes it), and it didn’t magically fix everything but, things were a little better. They still fought and argued and bothered each other but it wasn’t as sharp, there was a lack of real murderous intent in it all, and sometimes after an episode they would talk a little bit. It was the best Nightmare was going to get for now, so he took it.
They were still completely incompetent about taking care of themselves though. Neither of them would eat unless prompted and Nightmare didn’t have good enough knowledge of mortals to know when that should be to stop them passing out from hunger on the job. Not to mention the stars were now a full team, and with the way Killer and Dust would sometimes rather target each other on the field he could do with more backup.
Horror was the first of the group to get a choice in joining. Nightmare had taken note of how much Dust didn’t want to be part of things, and while it was in his best interests in the long run given his situation, Horror’s au was still mostly intact - though a little in disrepair. Horror was also the first in the group to have a good (and ongoing) relationship with his brother, so Nightmare knew he couldn’t just pop in and steal him, he had to be a bit more diplomatic with this one and offer a deal.
He gave Horror some time to think on his proposal - he would set up regular deliveries of food to Horror’s au in exchange for him joining their team - and was quite surprised when Horror agreed, with some stipulations. Horror was equally surprised when Nightmare agreed so easily to his terms (that he didn’t want his brother to know what he’d be doing, and that he wouldn’t kill). A little down the line the terms were altered to add that he would also be left to visit his au every week or so.
Horror was not impressed meeting the other two. He didn’t need his power as judge anymore to sense the lvl coming off them both, and given who they were working for he was instantly distrustful of them both (the uh, brother situation did not help). He was also in a place that had an abundance of food for the first time in probably years, so he was doing a lot of going hog wild in the kitchen and then getting very sick as a result.
Dust didn’t particularly feel anything for him. This guy hated him, sure, but it wasn’t forward and slashy like with Killer, it was just quiet loathing which was fine. That’s how Dust felt about himself so, y’know, mood. He did kind of feel sorry for him though, not just because of the whole famine and everything, but also because he was watching this guy eat like his life depended on it and then get sick and undo it day after day. He was the one who suggested Horror getting his food in moderation to Nightmare, which did help but was an absolute ordeal to enforce. Y’know how some people get hangry? Imagine that but you haven’t had a proper meal in years and now these people give you tiny amounts of food and don’t let you eat more for hours. The hunger mood swings were a sight to behold, you would never have guessed in those days that Horror specified not wanting to kill.
When his ability to eat had evened out and he was in better shape, Horror made a point of apologising to Dust for being aggressive with him. Over time he’d kind of softened up on him from his initial impression, since he could see plainly how wracked with guilt Dust was over his situation. It was a little easier to imagine that whatever he’d done was truly out of desperation and not just for fun, as Horror had assumed at first sight. 
They also both retained that classic sans laziness, so it was easy for them to share a space while saying and doing nothing. It made Horror the first person that Dust willingly spent time around in the castle (and vice versa since Horror was still largely suspicious of Nightmare and Killer - the deal seemed too good to be true and the stage 3 episodes didn’t help). As time went on, Horror kind of became Dust’s emotional support skeleton in a way. Dust had become quite averse to touch in his solitude and Horror very slowly brought him back out with casual gentle touches, until not only did he no longer freeze or stiffen at being grabbed but Dust would seek him out to flop next to on the couch. Horror claimed it was just returning the favour for helping with his eating situation, but really it was nice to have something resembling a friend here.
Killer, for his part, was going through This is My Replacement 2: Electric Boogaloo. Not to the same degree as with Dust, since Horror was quite a bit different, but Killer was still wary of this new addition. He didn’t really instigate anything though since, to be honest, Horror had the intimidation factor. He was like a foot taller than both of them, he had a cracked skull and completely different magic and it seemed like every time Killer saw him he was eating bread like a wolf eats a deer. So while he was going through his food moderating, Killer mostly just stayed quiet and kept his distance.
Horror had not softened on him like he had with Dust, since Killer didn’t openly show remorse. He still watched him with distrust, especially after seeing the way he scrapped with Dust for seemingly no reason other than for violence’s sake. Killer was still mostly targeting Dust in his stage 3s, but Horror had to be careful to stay out of his way since he was still working with much lower hp than the other two. What did start to convince him was seeing how similar Killer and Dust were after a stage 3 episode. Once Killer was slightly more composed (ie stopped crying), he became so tired and quiet and blunt about things he normally joked his way around. It was a little startling, but also started to bring Horror around to the idea that Killer might regret his actions too, just buried under several layers of whatever the hell is also wrong with him at any given time.
Killer and Horror only really started interacting after talking about Dust. Killer was asking how he got Dust to like him since he seems to hate everyone and everything else, Horror told him very pointedly it was because he wasn’t trying to kill Dust. Killer admitted he wasn’t trying to kill Dust, at least not anymore, he just wanted to fight for fun. It opened up a better channel of understanding, knowing that Killer did not actually have murderous intent behind his swings (stage 3 notwithstanding). It made it easier for Horror to occasionally get involved in the roughhousing which Killer delighted in, knowing that the other two knew how to hold back enough to keep him from dusting.
Speaking of stage 3, it was around this time that Killer and Dust made a very important deal. After a particularly rough episode with a little too close of a call, Killer showed up in Dust’s room and begged him shakily to make a promise - that if he ever got too out of control during one of his stages, Dust would kill him. He’d been told over and over by Nightmare that it was impossible for Killer to hurt him since he was immortal, but now there were more people around him where that wasn’t the case, and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he came out of a stage and found himself alone. Dust promised.
It’s also worth mentioning that, once they were all close enough to be on speaking terms, Horror started bullying the shit out of these two about eating. Now that Horror knew neither of them were going to kill him, he felt safe enough to pick them up by the scruff and set them at the table to say they weren’t leaving until they had at least a snack. He let them pick what they would eat - he wasn’t that cruel about it - but he had to see them eat at least 3 times a day or they would hear about it.
It was by no means perfect or regular, but after about half a year Nightmare finally had henchmen who ate food and worked together (mostly).
Now here’s the problem… I still haven’t really figured out how or why Cross joined the team. Like, obviously there’s some kind of point in the events of underverse where it splits off into an alternate timeline, but I haven’t really figured out where yet so. Leave that one with me just a little longer. Cross joins.
Nightmare really truly didn’t intend to take anyone else in. They were (mostly) getting along, they were pretty well matched to fight the stars, he had no need of more mortals.
…but he was also pretty soft at this point. Every one of them had taken a blow to his I’m immortal I’m an island I don’t get attached to others persona and he’d gotten pretty damn fond of them all. This was why when he felt the sheer weight of loneliness radiating off of Cross, he just couldn’t bring himself to leave him.
So Cross entered the castle. 
He did not particularly intend to stay or make friends, he was trying to get his world back and nothing more. He even revealed a little down the line that he outright refused to kill, and was quite surprised to find that Nightmare was fine with that. At the start he was polite but not friendly with the others and mostly kept to himself.
Dust, as is often the case, did not really have an opinion. Another new guy, this one was self sufficient and didn’t bother him so he had no reason to get involved. He was content to be in the same room as Cross but didn’t start up any conversations.
Horror felt the need to speak to Cross, since Dust would happily stay silent for years and Killer was, well, Killer. Horror was somehow the closest thing to normal they had, so he was the one that made small talk. Mostly asking what Cross would like for meals and encouraging him to pick something he liked when he got the answer of “anything is fine”. As Cross settled in a bit more and actually opened up, they bonded over being the only two to enjoy food. Horror made a point of adding chocolate to the stock they kept in the kitchen and making tacos here and there for Cross.
Horror was also the first Cross kind of warmed to, mostly because he was the one devoid of lvl and Nightmare had mentioned he’d also said he wouldn’t kill. Learning a little about his au’s situation only softened Cross to him more, especially seeing that he still cared a lot for his brother and was trying to protect his home (even if Cross found it unthinkable that he lived away from it). It was through Horror that he also got accustomed to Dust, how being quiet and distant was kind of his default and that he also felt deeply haunted by the loss of his world. They weren’t exactly friends, but it was comfortable enough.
So now boss had taken in another new person, someone who takes orders like a soldier and fights with knives and ruthless precision and aims to be his righthand man, and Killer was ecstatic. By now he’d mostly put his fears of being disposable behind him, Nightmare had gotten a bit less subtle in showing how important they all were to him and Killer felt confident he wouldn’t be replaced. Which was a little bit funny, because the only guy he didn’t feel threatened by was the one who absolutely competed for his spot.
Cross needed to prove he was useful, he had to feel like he earned his keep and that all the training and suffering he’d done was for a reason. When Nightmare sent them on missions, Cross aimed to be the fastest and the most efficient and to report to Nightmare without question. Horror and Dust looking on would have expected Killer to see this 100% as a threat to his position as (self proclaimed) Nightmare’s second in command, and to go for this guy’s throat when nobody else was around.
But Killer was fascinated. Cross was completely different from any of them, bar Nightmare whose au is a whole different kettle of fish, so he had a certain element of unpredictability to him. Horror and Dust were both based on classic sans just like him, so to a certain degree he knew how they would feel about most things and what they might say, the only differences being in what they had experienced through their own timelines. Cross was based on a swap sans and his au had taken wild twists and turns away from usual events, so Killer had to learn everything about him by poking and prodding for answers or observing from a distance, much like back when it was just him and Nightmare. Cross was something new to be studied and Killer loved taking notes.
Cross did not see this as friendly. He was competing with Killer for approval, not realising Killer was playing their contest like a game. When he saw Cross training he would jump in to spar for fun, but Cross saw his rival trying to get a jump on him and take him out of the running. When Killer would hang around and pester Cross in their off time with questions, it didn’t seem like someone taking interest, it seemed like someone being nosy and looking for weaknesses to exploit. When Horror mentioned that Killer was being surprisingly contained and friendly, Cross really thought he was fucking with him.
The first time Cross was willing to even consider this was the case was when his locket came loose on the field and Killer ran back to find it, since one of the notes he’d taken was how the locket wasn’t something Cross would play about (the same as Horror with food). It didn’t make sense for someone who was seriously competing to have him kicked out to just hand his necklace back, no ransoms or attempts to crush it to upset him, just some vague remark about “owing him one” and then right back to Nightmare for orders.
Cross had to give him something of a chance after that, Horror helped a lot by telling him “he doesn’t want to hurt you, he just doesn’t know how to be normal”. It was mostly a playful jab at Killer, but reframing their interactions changed it significantly for Cross. Now they were sparring playfully and having friendly competition on jobs. He wasn’t as put off when Killer went into stage 3 because he knew he could match him in combat and the others were always on hand to help restrain or distract him. Cross also took note of how Killer calmed down a lot for physical touch, not unlike how Dust had warmed up to Horror. It went a long way into not only making him a little less combative for attention every day, but it seemed to put longer stretches between his episodes (which Cross had also started tracking so they wouldn’t be caught out by them as much).
For his part, Killer has disobeyed instructions in the past to benefit Cross, usually ignoring the task to help him if he’s hurt. He’s also given Nightmare nudges towards praising him because he’s noted that that’s what Cross needs in the same way he needs touch (not that Nightmare doesn’t praise them normally, but when Cross is going through it and needs something). He also doesn’t particularly like chocolate but has made a point of not admitting this to Horror so he can give his chocolate to Cross.
(It’s also worth noting that Cross is the only one, besides Nightmare, that has been to Horror’s au. He offered to help out during the food delivery and got to meet Horror’s Papyrus (who he is a little intimidated by but ultimately friendly with, even though it’s a little weird since he’s a good bit different from his own Papyrus). Dust and Killer can’t really visit for a few reasons, mostly because everyone will notice their lvl immediately and know what they’ve done. Dust especially doesn’t know how he would react to having a Papyrus in front of him again and doesn’t want to put Horror's family at risk to find out. Whenever he visits, his Papyrus asks about Cross now and sometimes tries to make tacos for him (key word tries, he’s still a Papyrus after all). He may have joked that seeing Cross sometimes is “like having another brother but younger and less lazy” and when Horror told him this Cross may or may not have cried.)
And that’s where we are now!
They’re a very strange group who’ve been through some inexplicable events and have all changed each other in one way or another. And whether or not it can be admitted, they are a family c:
Now onto how Nightmare was made emotionally open by each of them!! In this essay I will no just kidding could you imagine this is already like 7 pages long
If you got to the end of this post please drink some water and get yourself a snack
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necrotic-nephilim · 4 months ago
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What do you think about the fab five polycule
(Dick x donna x wally x garth x roy)
i'll be SO honest i wish i had like. insightful interesting opinions on them but i've always been a Young Justice kid and sort of. breezed past consuming Fab Five Teen Titans content-
but of what i *do* know, from the few comics i've read with these characters is this is one of the best ships for Dick, honestly. it always deeply annoys me when fanon content breezes past the Titans as if they're just some distant teammates and not some of Dick's closest friends, if not a second family. *especially* the Fab Five. for most, if not all of them, it's the first time getting to actually connect with other teen heroes. so there's something fun about how sort of terrible they are at it, at first. they all care about each other a lot. but they're kind of chucked into the deep figuring out how to work with each other and get along with *very* different personalities, so it's fun to see where the conflict comes.
as a ship, i do really love it. the Titans are a family. like we call a lot of teams found families, but for the Fab Five, that shit is the truest. they depend on each other and trust each other. when Dick and Bruce are on outs and Bruce fires him, he goes to the Titans.
i also enjoy how, to an extent, all of them are outsiders of some kind. Donna is alone in a new world she's never experienced, the same as Garth. Roy is still new and awkward to living the rich life with Oliver. Wally doesn't connect to his parents well. and of course, Dick has lost his parents and only has Bruce, who isn't the most emotionally available. of course they're going to cling to each other, as the first people they can really develop connections too. they're very clingy with each other and i think that's both cute and *fun* to explore like, codependency issues with them. how protective they can be of each other, how they default to trusting each other over their mentors, etc. it's all very interesting for a polycule, especially since for most of them, it's their first real relationship. i'm a big fan of "none of us know what dating looks like bc we've had such strange childhoods so we don't understand the Rules very well. we're all just going to date each other bc why would i date only one of you. do teamups count as dates now." vibes with teenage polycules. and the Fab Five just. have that on lock. they each fulfill a different "niche" in the group. Garth is the softer, more emotional one you can go to if you're upset. Donna is the one for planning bright fun trips and making sure you don't wallow. Roy is protective and can pretend to be suave, but he shows affection through gift giving and grand gestures where words fail him. Wally can cheer any of them up with jokes and distractions. and of course Dick is the logical one who makes sure they all keep their heads on and don't drown in the responsibility.
overall i think it's a really cute ship and i do wish i just. knew more about them to be able to write them/read fic of it because i do love their dynamic. and i'm just a firm believer in the Titans being Dick's family, just as important to him as the Batfam. they're a disaster and for that you gotta love them.
#necrotic answerings#fab five#ty for asking!!#i love getting asks liek this even if on things i don't know a ton about#i think the only real comics i've read of the fab five are world's finest: teen titans and teen titans: year one#and some of the silver age stuff but only ever for the plot not for those characters specifically#so like. i know enough to vaguely understand the characters#but i did have to approach it from the perspective of dick bc obviously i know him the best#i am interested in reading more about garth. he's a little cutie. i love him.#he seems very easy to whump. you could do a lot of dead dove things to that boy.#also this is darker in concept#but i find the way bruce dislikes the titans and dick working with them pretty fascinating#bc the reasonable answer is it's the first time dick is operating outside of bruce and it just gives bruce anxiety#but the *fun* answer is: brudick vs fab five polycule#where bruce is hyper possessive of dick developing other potentially romantic bonds#or just bonds in general#so he tries to come in between it#if i ever wrote a fab five polycule fic#that's the route i would take personally. very dark controlling brudick with the titans slowly taking notice and growing more concerned#otherwise tho i leave this ship to be written by ppl who understand them more#bc i know next to nothing about a lot of them#dick and roy i understand#garth i'm interested in#couldn't tell you much about wally or donna tho#and i prefer wally as flash when i do read him. bc he's a disaster man.#i really haven't read much titans content in general i fear#i've read some new teen titans for like. slade content and whatnot#and some of the 2003 run but besides that. i was always on the yj side of the fence#that said i will say *as* a core four truther#the fab five are *always* going to be closer as a team than the core four.
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squarebracket-trickster · 5 months ago
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Maybe I could just [square bracket trick] these revisions and leave them for future me...
Future me is gonna be so mad hehe
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overly-verbose · 7 months ago
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Seriously, bro's a professional yapper lmfao
Tbf it's not completely unprovoked and he does just want to at least try explaining some things, if in a roundabout way, to make people more at ease (if not in the moment then overall) but, well-
sometimes it has the opposite effect lmao 😂
Also like, it's absolutely hilarious how I thought
'oh but this is just, like three scenes - how long could this be'
but all the freaking talking and stuff that everyone's doing is making Part 8 the second longest in the series 😂😂😂💀😂
(I fear for my poor brain, man - we've only just barely almost covered the Detention Center Arc
(and a little bit of the VS Mahito Arc Mahito Gets Curse PTSD Arc but I do wanna fill in some of the gaps between those)
and it's already gonna be over 40k words???
Why am I being so ambitious for my first ever proper writing project frrr *perishes a bit*
but I do hope to get it to the end - and beyond because there's no way I wouldn't constantly add to the post-main-plot shenanigans lol - however long that takes heh (just try to be patient with me pls I try my best here 😂) 👍)
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seventh-district · 3 months ago
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again and again i find myself lamenting that audio roleplay isn't taken more seriously by some people. like yeah, they often have a romantic element, and by nature they usually directly involve/address the listener- and i totally get that those things aren't to everyone's taste. no art or entertainment is universally appealing, and that's okay! but.. it still makes me a lil sad that the "cringe" reputation of asmr/audio rp precedes it. there's a whole lot of talent and creativity being poured into these audios by so many people that i feel goes unrecognized and/or disrespected simply due to the medium that the stories are being told through.
#this post brought to you by: me bingeing Sam & Darlin's entire storyline over the past few days and having a Lot of feelings abt it#asmr#audio roleplay#rp audio stuff#redacted audio#anyways i don't have a conclusion to this post. and i'm not Mad or Upset or anything i'm just thinkin' out loud#and i mean it's not like it doesn't get plenty of praise within its respective audience bc it does. at least for the more popular creators#but i feel it'll still always have the shadow of its cringe reputation looming over it#which makes it hard for some ppl to openly appreciate or share with others that aren't already fans of the medium#like do u know how many comments i've seen along the lines of 'this is great but i'd die if anyone knew i liked this kinda stuff' ?? :(#idk maybe i feel strongly about it bc i'm a self-insert fanfic writer. and i feel like the two have a lot in common. including a bad rep.#like. not every audio will be well-written or produced and neither will every fanfic. but that doesn't mean it's a less legitimate artform#and i'm lucky to have never (yet) received negative comments on my work. but that doesn't mean that it doesn't make me sigh when people-#-say shit like 'this reads like fanfiction' as a way of calling something bad. or other similar sentiments that make the same implication#and i wouldn't be surprised if audio creators feel the same way when they encounter certain comments or statements#like. those YT videos where ppl will 'try bf asmr for the first time' or whatever and it's just 20 mins of cringing and over-reacting? eugh#tbf i haven't watched many bc why do that to myself. so Maybe there's some that are respectful but still. imagine getting roasted like that#and yes yes i know that by posting stuff online you're inadvertently sighing up to be criticized by Anyone but still. man. i dunno#i'm going on a tangent but my point is. i'm grateful for the creators that still make their art in spite of the public's perception of it#bc some of the most impactful emotional experiences i've ever gained from fiction took place in audio rp and i'm so serious abt that.#anyways. this post almost feels like i'm 'making up a person to be mad at' but i promise it's not that serious i'm just yapping. mostly.#certainly not trying to start any kind of debate or anything either i just have a lot of fixation-induced energy and nowhere to put it#this is Eric's fault (/lh) for cooking Sam up in a lab catered exactly to my taste and making Darlin' waaaaay too painfully relatable#but it's also My fault for bingeing the Inversion /and/ the Quinn arc /and/ the Summit all within a couple days. but i can't help myself#feels like i've run an emotional marathon. triathlon. The Emotional Olympics if u will. i'm feeling Everything#who knew that beating the shit out of ur fictional abuser could feel so goddamn cathartic! it's a nice replacement when u can't do it irl#anyways i'm off on a tangent again. thanks for coming to my TED Talk i'm gonna crawl back in my hole now#actually i'm gonna go relisten to a few audios. as Research for my Sam & Darlin' playlist as well as a post i'll be making about it soon#u Know i've got it bad when i not only make a playlist but start Posting on here about the songs that remind me of them. i'm cooked guys.
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gedwimora · 4 months ago
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okay since it'll probably be a minute before they're actually up, especially since i'm staring down finals rn here's my little treat previews for everyone since i have these graphics done.
daemon
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rhaenyra
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Points at you. 10 and/or 11 for starstruck?
Two starstruck asks,,,,,,joy of joys,,
Part of an ask game linked here.
#10. What's an au you have for them?
Since them meeting at all is technically an AU i have 3 different ways that they do meet up. There's the one where Juniper ends up with the agency/adjacent to and ends up working with Reggie (have written a fic with this). The next one is Juniper surviving but basically going stealth and living as normal of a life as he can and ending up meeting Reggie through chance (most recent fic I've written). And then there's my personal favourite where Reginald "You're lucky my tracking skills are still up to snuff" Crane keeping himself busy after Phoenix was MIA and finding Juniper still alive (fic I want to write but haven't started mainly because it may end up multi chapter).
In terms of more AU canon bending taking them and putting them in a completely unrelated situation...I have a guilty pleasure Warrior Cats AU for IEYTD in general. Both JJ and Reggie have perfect warrior cats suffixes in their names already (Juniper and Crane) so they're called Junipersong (charcoal bengal) and Craneflight (tabby Norwegian forest cat). It's very silly but the amount of scenes I have in my mind for it...good lord...
#11. How was their first kiss like?
Augh my friend Imp wrote an absolutely excellent fic about it (tragically in the realm of unfinished Google docs) and I'm shaking their hand about it so hard. Basically Juniper kissing Reggie but he like wasn't ready/fully expecting it and Juniper absolutely panicking because he thinks he's misread every interaction between them both since they got closer. The second one is much sweeter though,,
#realised i phrased all the fics ive written like those ghosts that haunted scrooge#ah yes the fic of starstuck past#the fic of starstruck present and the fic of starstruck yet to come. it's so dumb#and uhh for the warrior cats thing um. of course they aren't purebreds minus Juniper who used to be a kittypet (housecat) but -#- it was moreso for easy description#reggie is fluffy but he's not quite maine coonf fluffy...norwegan forest cat was a nice middle ground...still gets big guy points too#also um side note roxanix in that au um. they adopted a kit as a stand in for robutler in that au......#also solaris is a VERY grumpy warrior turned medicine cat annnnd thats about all I have fully hashed out in my mind for it so far#im so torn abt also having triple threat.....extra large polycule where phoenix is just intimidated by the others prism is dating lmao#ANYWAYS ENOUGH ABOUT THE WARRIOR CATS AU#can you tell I have a special interest in cats/warrior cats. oh how I miss drawing cats. but I must learn people. for the brainworms...ouuu#i don't have much else to say on that second question other than....AUUUUUUGH they're so. there's so much pent up stuff.#like for JJ it's the first time he's let himself actually love another man the way he wants to while for Reggie it's a lot of -#- realising JJ is trying to be a better person while still ackowleging the fact that he did bad??? basically second chance yada yada#man. i love these two#ik im a broken ass reccord but I've never proactively posted abt them outside the last couple months and it's been so theraputic#ty for the ask it was fun :3c#ieytd#starstruck#junicrane#ask game#not tagging them specifically I don't wanna clog up tags too much#god WHY do i have such an issue eith that. mental issue. anyways
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aro-aizawa · 1 year ago
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SOME AUTHORS TAKE YEARS TO FINISH ONE BOOK, IT DOESN'T MATTER HOW MUCH YOU WRITE JUST THAT YOU DO!!
THE ONLY CONDITION TO MAKE YOU A WRITER IS THAT YOU PUT WORDS SOMEWHERE SOMETIMES EVEN IF IT'S 500 WORDS IN 5 YEARS
thank u bless
idk if it counts but since this is a convenient place to celebrate, a lil while back i actually hit 200k words on my ao3 account since 2017 which is cool af i think and im v close to 100k hits too since im at 99,699
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therealbeachfox · 10 months ago
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Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.
It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.
To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.
This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.
Join me below, if you would.
2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.
Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.
It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.
But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.
The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.
“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”
“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”
We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.
"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?
The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.
We had slightly miscalculated.
Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.
“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”
“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”
“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”
“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”
And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.
00000
We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.
It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.
At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.
Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.
So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.
“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.
“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.
Monday is the last day to do this, after all.
00000
So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.
The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.
“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”
So.
Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?
Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.
It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).
Then it starts to rain.
We had not dressed for rain.
00000
Here is how the next six hours go.
We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.
Everyone is so happy.
Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.
People online start making delivery orders.
Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.
A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.
The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.
A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.
Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.
00000
We have Line Neighbors.
Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.
The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.
Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”
“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”
“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”
My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.
“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.
“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”
We stay in line.
It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.
The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.
We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.
It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.
They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.
We still have a -long- way to go.
00000
They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.
It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”
We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.
We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.
I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.
The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.
Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.
The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.
A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“
The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”
We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.
If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.
That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.
There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.
We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)
I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.
There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.
Then we're married.
Then we get in line to get our license.
It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.
Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.
We make it to the marriage records office.
I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.
It's almost 3PM.
00000
There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.
We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.
I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”
He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.
Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.
We get back to our car and climb in.
It’s 4:30 and we are starving.
There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.
We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.
We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.
The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.
My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”
00000
It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”
But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.
It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.
I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.
We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.
Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.
It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.
Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"
And that was that.
00000
When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.
I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.
I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.
I never thought I’d live in this world.
And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.
I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.
The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.
And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.
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dark-moonlust · 5 months ago
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Hi there, this is my first time sending an ask.
I was wondering if could you do a bear hybrid x fem reader. I really love the concept of a bear hybrid but there's not really a lot of stuff on that.
Thank you, your avid reader
Sure thing anon! I hope this is to your liking! 🖤🥂 Happy reading!
Claimed by the Bear Hybrid
Pairing: bear hybrid x f!human reader
Summary: you are strolling the woods when you meet a bear hybrid who claims you as his.
Warnings: minors don’t interact, 18++!!!, slightly non-con, oral (f!receiving), big 🍆, p in v, lots of 💦.
I've written a second part for this one and you can find it here.
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“You’re mine now,” the creature rumbled, deep and commanding. 
You forgot how to breathe, your heart stuttering at the sight of the bear hybrid before you. Standing on his two back feet, the massive hybrid towered over you, making it impossible for you to escape. The creature had the build of a very big and muscled man, but his dark fur, size and strength were unmistakably bear-like. 
Not to mention that between his legs hung the most glorious cock you’d ever seen. It was as thick as your forearms and long, longer than seven inches—with the angry red head leaking moisture. Two heavy, hairy balls hung from between his thighs, throbbing visibly. An involuntary shiver traveled through you, not at all fearful. He grunted and shifted, his nose smelling the air. Then his eyes, they were completely dark, fixed on you with a hunger that brought back the fear inside you.
Oh, how foolish you had been thinking that a stroll in the woods would be harmless. You were alone with an apex predator in his own habitat, and he was about to devour you, oh the irony… the forest was dense and filled with the sounds of nature and the chirping of birds. It was such a beautiful morning, so unlike your fate.  
“Pl—please… I won’t hurt you,” you uttered, terrified out of your wits. “Let me go and—”
“Never!” he rasped powerfully. “You. Are. Mine.”
You barely had time to react before he closed in on you, his huge body dwarfing yours. He was three heads taller than you and that much heavier. A strong hand grasped you as he scooped you up, hanging you over his shoulder. Paralyzed, you shouted and writhed, but no help came as he carried you effortlessly toward his cave. 
Once inside his lair, cool air welcomed you to a bed of soft furs. His eyes never left yours as he climbed on the massive bed beside you, his hands gripping your ankles, strong enough but careful not to bruise you. You couldn’t escape. Tears flew down your cheeks as he ripped your clothes apart, his sharp claws removing every layer until you lay completely exposed before him. 
“Shhhh…” his voice was soothing. “I will not harm you, little human. You are my mate.”
“Nnn…no.” Embarrassed, you crossed your hands in front of your breasts. “This can’t be! We can’t—”
“You are mine,” he repeated stubbornly. “You tremble and leak nectar for me.”
To prove his point, he spread open your legs, exposing the soaked slit of your pussy. Your plump folds glistened with arousal, and you flushed at the sight. You’d refused to accept what your instinct was telling you, but there was no mistaking it now; the hybrid didn’t want to kill you; he wanted to fuck you. And for some strange reason that made you ever wetter, your heart beating frantically.
Your breath hitched when you felt his callused fingers brushing along your chest. You protested, but his strength was great, and he drew your arms apart, exposing your breasts to him. Big hands cradled each breast, thumbs skimming over your nipples until they turned into hard little buds. You whimpered, tears in your eyes, because each stroke felt good, awakening a mix of fear and arousal. You could feel his strength, his raw power, and it both thrilled and scared you. 
“Pretty and soft,” the hybrid muttered as he massaged your mounds and caressed your nipples. “Such roundness.”
It was at that moment that you realized you had arched your back to offer more of yourself to him. He took this chance eagerly and bent down to engulf the entirety of one tit in his mouth. The suction was warm and wet, his tongue rough and textured as it circled your nipple. Lips quivering, you shivered as he stroked and suckled, crying out softly when he alternated to the other mound. 
Strong hands moved to your hips, gripping them firmly as he lowered his head between your thighs. He inhaled your pussy, then breathed over it. You shivered all over, especially when his tongue flicked out, licking up and down your folds before delving inside. You jolted at the electric sensation, long moans escaping you as his rough tongue fucked you with primal thrusts. He ate you out, his growls vibrating against your pussy. Hands gripping the sheets, you rocked against him, hips arching toward his mouth. 
“Such a soft little cunt; it tastes so sweet, better than honey,” he murmured, tongue spearing your pussy. 
“Pl-please,” you whispered, barely able to form the words and unsure of what you were begging for. To stop? To keep going? You were so pleasure-hazed that you had no idea what to do. 
He chuckled. “You’ll get more, mate.”
Hands gripping your ass, he brought you closer to his face, spreading your folds as he continued his sweet torment. His snout caressed your clit and you bucked against him, your moans filling the cave and echoing off the walls. Your orgasm tore through you, strong and blissful, surging from your head to your toes, and despite your violent thrashing, his tongue still drove inside you, devouring every drop of your release.
Head falling back against the bed, you opened your legs obscenely, offering your pussy to him. He licked you fiercely, then your inner thighs, then up your belly and your breasts. You whined when you felt the heavy weight of something warm and leaky against your fluttering cunt. You looked down and gasped; your ankles were hooked over his broad shoulders and he was rubbing his cock against your slit, his thick girth looking inhumanly big in contrast to your small pussy.  
“I’ve waited so long for this moment,” he growled, his hands caressing your inner thighs. “You’re my mate, and I will claim you.”
“Stop— you’re too big—”
But it was too late. A soft hitch of breath left you when he pushed the cockhead inside. It parted your moist pussy lips and drove inside, inch by inch. You whimpered at the stretch, yet his fullness invaded you without discomfort, bottoming out inside you as his balls squeezed against your bum.
You’d done it. You’d taken him. Wow… 
Your thoughts faded when he started moving inside you. Holding your tiny waist in his big hairy hands, he pumped powerfully inside you, watching as his dick spread your lips, then came out covered with your juices. You gripped his arms for dear life, your nails digging into his thick skin. He liked it because he fucked you faster and deeper, each thrust driving you higher and higher. 
“Yes, only my mate can take me,” he growled, his cock making your belly bulge. “I’m going to fill you up, claim you, make you mine.”
The bed creaked from his thrusts, your tits bouncing. He licked them up, suckled them in his mouth as he pounded into you, the plap-plap of skin slapping against skin obscenely wet and lewd. Your cries mingled with his grunts of pleasure, your walls clenching and unclenching around his cock as a second orgasm overwhelmed you. He kept fucking you and followed right after with a feral roar, filling you up with buckets of his cum. He pumped for minutes, over and over, until he had marked you with his seed. 
Breathless and spent, you couldn’t help but collapse into the sheets that smelled like musk and earth. Your body still tingled from the intensity of your union, your legs weak. You couldn’t believe what had happened. You’d heard of many cases of interspecies mating, and now it had happened to you as well. This bear hybrid was your mate. Your soulmate. He’d claimed you, bathed you in his seed. And even if your bond was unusual and fresh, you felt like being truly home.
“You’re mine, all mine,” he murmured, nuzzling your neck, his breath warm against your skin. 
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jonnywaistcoat · 8 months ago
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What’s your opinion on the contrast between “silly” and “serious” spaces? Do you think people can have very serious interpretations about a genuine piece of media and also be goofy about it? I’m asking this particularly because I’ve seen people in the Magnus podcast fandoms fight about people “misinterpreting” characters you, Alex, and the many other authors have written. Are you okay with the blorbofication or do you really wish the media you’ve written would be “taken seriously” 100% of the time?
And follow up question, what do you think about the whole “it’s up to the reader (or in some cases, listener) to make their own conclusions and interpretations and that does not make them wrong”, versus the “it was written this way because the author intended it this way, and we should respect that” argument?
This is a question I've given a lot of thought over the years, to the point where I don't know how much I can respond without it becoming a literal essay. But I'll try.
My main principle for this stuff boils roughly down to: "The only incorrect way to respond to art is to try and police the responses of others." Art is an intensely subjective, personal thing, and I think a lot of online spaces that engage with media are somewhat antithetical to what is, to me, a key part of it, which is sitting alone with your response to a story, a character, a scene or an image and allowing yourself to explore it's effect on you. To feel your feelings and think about them in relation to the text.
Now, this is not to say that jokes and goofiness about a piece of art aren't fucking great. I love to watch The Thing and drink in the vibes or arctic desolation and paranoia, or think about the picture it paints of masculinity as a sublimely lonely thing where the most terrible threat is that of an imposed, alien intimacy. And that actually makes me laugh even more the jokey shitpost "Do you think the guys in The Thing ever explored each other's bodies? Yeah but watch out". Silly and serious don't have to be in opposition, and I often find the best jokes about a piece of media come from those who have really engaged with it.
And in terms of interpreting characters? Interpreting and responding to fictional characters is one of the key functions of stories. They're not real people, there is no objective truth to who they are or what they do or why they do it. They are artificial constructs and the life they are given is given by you, the reader/listener/viewer, etc. Your interpetation of them can't be wrong, because your interpretation of them is all that there is, they have no existence outside of that.
And obviously your interpretation will be different to other people's, because your brain, your life, your associations - the building blocks from which the voices you hear on a podcast become realised people in your mind - are entirely your own. Thus you cannot say anyone else's is wrong. You can say "That's not how it came across to me" or "I have a very different reading of that character", but that's it. I suppose if someone is fundamentally missing something (like saying "x character would never use violence" when x character strangles a man to death in chapter 4) you could say "I think that's a significant misreading of the text", but that's only to be reserved for if you have the evidence to back it up and are feeling really savage.
I think this is one of the things that saddens me a bit about some aspects of fandom culture - it has a tendency to police or standardise responses or interpretations, turning them from personal experiences to be explored into public takes to be argued over. It also has the occasional moralistic strain, and if there's one thing I wish I could carve in stone on every fan space it's that Your Responses to a Piece of Art Carry No Intrinsic Moral Weight.
As for authorial intention, that's a simpler one: who gives a shit? Even the author doesn't know their own intentions half the time. There is intentionality there, of course, but often it's a chaotic and shifting mix of theme and story and character which rarely sticks in the mind in the exact form it had during writing. If you ask me what my intention was in a scene from five years ago, I'll give you an answer, but it will be my own current interpretation of a half-remembered thing, altered and warped by my own changing relationship to the work and five years of consideration and change within myself. Or I might not remember at all and just have a guess. And I'm a best case scenario because I'm still alive. Thinking about a writers possible or stated intentions is interesting and can often lead to some compelling discussion or examination, but to try and hold it up as any sort of "truth" is, to my mind, deeply misguided.
Authorial statements can provide interesting context to a work, or suggest possible readings, but they have no actual transformative effect on the text. If an author says of a book that they always imagined y character being black, despite it never being mentioned in the text, that's interesting - what happens if we read that character as black? How does it change our responses to the that character actions and position? How does it affect the wider themes and story? It doesn't, however, actually make y character black because in the text itself their race remains nonspecific. The author lost the ability to make that change the moment it was published. It's not solely theirs anymore.
So yeah, that was a fuckin essay. In conclusion, serious and silly are both good, but serious does not mean yelling at other people about "misinterpretations", it means sitting with your personal explorations of a piece of art. All interpretations are valid unless they've legitimately missed a major part of the text (and even then they're still valid interpretations of whatever incomplete or odd version of the text exists inside that person's brain). Authorial intent is interesting to think about but ultimately unknowable, untrustworthy and certainly not a source of truth. Phew.
Oh, and blorbofication is fine, though it does to my mind sometimes pair with a certain shallowness to one's exploration of the work in question.
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gguk-n · 2 months ago
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Jokes In The Cloud (Carlos Sainz x Comedian!Reader)
No Face Claim. All the pictures are from Pinterest.
CONGRATULATIONS TO CARLOS ON WINNING HIS SECOND GP THIS SEASON!!
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punchlineprincess Vacationing with the people who get on my nerve the most
y/bff/user you forgot to take me😔😔 punchlineprincess y/bff/user sorry bbg, next trip with you alone😘😘 y/cousin/user you annoy us more🙂 y/mum/user not a nice thing to say Y/N punchlineprincess y/mum/user I was joking😅😅 user1 if someone saw her IG they would think she's a model😍😍 user2 God I've seen what you've done for others, when is it my turn🥲🥲 user3 pretty and funny. I want her!!❤️❤️
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{Reader's POV}
The gears in my head my turning, I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I still had to refine my script; I was sure I could do it if I have a few hours. "Sweetheart, dinner's ready" my dad called out from the bedroom door. "Dad, I have to leave" I stated. "To where?" my dad asked, walking in. "You know that Netflix special I was gonna film" I began, he nodded along, "well, they want to film it on Monday" I finished. "That's in a day" he stated. "2, since it's in New York" I explained. "Cassidy will send me my tickets, but I think I'll be leaving now" I spoke. "Sorry about ditching the family trip. I know how important it was for you" I mumbled. "It's okay, darling. This is bigger. This will catapult you to fame like you always wanted, I mean I'm already so proud of you but this is still bigger" he explained trying to calm me. "Me and your mum will help you pack, come on" he said and called my mum.
The two of them helped me pack my bags. He explained how my Netflix special would be filmed soon and I would be leaving soon to everyone. All my younger cousins and nieces and nephews were so excited. Cassidy sent me the tickets. I made sure to pack everything while my mum fed me, it was chaos in the best way possible. "I'll be leaving now" I hugged my parents good bye. "Can't wait to watch it" my aunt spoke patting my back. "Mention us" one of my younger cousin's spoke. "I'll try" I laughed. My niece kissed my cheek wishing me good bye. My nephew wasn't ready to let me go yet, my brother had to pull him off me.
I waved good bye as the taxi left the resort, my family waving back as I disappeared. The ride to the airport was short, I was too busy going through my material to notice when I reached the airport. I paid the taxi driver and hauled my luggage to the check-in desk. The person behind it, checked me in and I was headed to immigration. This was the first time I noticed that I was sitting first class. When did my manager have this kind of money to book first class. I'd have to bring it up with her once I had the time.
I got done with all the formality and headed to the waiting area, where I spent my time going through my script and tweaking it ever so often. I downed a RedBull to try to align myself to New York time, so that I can combat the jet lag.
As the speaker's announced the boarding for my flight, I grabbed all my stuff with the plan to finish it up on the plane. The air-host lead me to my seat. I noticed a man sat on the seat next to mine, he looked an awful lot familiar, until it hit me that it was Carlos Sainz; my heart started pounding. I walked up to my seat, put my luggage away and sat down. My hands were shaking by the time I sat down, pulling my laptop out. I started typing away with shaky hands. "Is that a script?" a voice came from beside me. I turned around to find Carlos with his head turned, trying to figure out what's written. "Yeah, I'm a comedian, this is a script for my show" I tried to speak as confidently and calmly as possible. "That's cool. I'm Carlos, Carlos Sainz" he introduced himself. "I'm Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N" I shook his hand. "I'm a Formula One driver, maybe you'e heard about me" he further elaborated. I know, I've been obsessed with you for years, my poor brother has to listen to me talk about you for hours after every race, analysing the whole race. I have a fan account called carloslover, were the thoughts running through my head. "Yeah, I must've heard about Formula One some where" I said tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Well it's nice to meet you" Carlos said. "It's nice to meet you too" I said with a smile. "I'll let you get back to your work" Carlos said pointing at my laptop.
I spent a couple more minutes working on it before I was disturbed by Carlos, not like I was complaining; "I'm sorry but I'm kind of curious about what the script your working on is about" Carlos spoke slowly. "I'm filming a Netflix special in New York. So, I'm fine tuning my script" I chuckled. "Oh, sorry for disturbing you" Carlos replied sheepishly. Damn, he looked so cute, I caught myself fawning at him. "Ah, it's nothing." I quickly looked away, "I love when people are interested in what I do" I smiled. "Then, I will continue to annoy you a bit" he laughed. "Be my guest" I smiled back.
A few more tweaks and a good hour later, I was able to close the laptop, happy with the script I had at hand. "I'm guessing you're done" Carlos chimed in. "I am" I said stretching a little. "Maybe you could practice a bit with me" Carlos suggested. "I do want to practice my crowd work" I thought out loud.
"So, Carlos are you really a full time driver or a model? I can't really tell" I said. Carlos's face turned red, "Is this how you do crowd work?" he trailed. "I, no, can't let the opportunity to flirt with a man as handsome as you go" I smirked. Carlos's blush only deepened, "So, I'm special" he laughed. "Obviously" I shrugged. "If it's anything, I thought you were a model and not a comedian" he retorted. "I get that a lot. But doesn't work in my profession when people don't think pretty people tell good jokes" I retorted back. "I've never heard any of your jokes, but I'm sure you're funny since Netflix wants you" Carlos said. "Hope so" I said holding up my hands with crossed fingers.
I felt like the time flew by, as Carlos kept me company. Just as the flight was about to land; "Will I see you again?' Carlos asked hopefully. "You could, if I had your number" I remarked. Carlos pulled his phone out and handed it to me. I put my number in and called myself. "I'll see you soon." I winked as I saved Carlos's number. "Can't wait" Carlos replied, smiling at me as we grabbed our luggage to leave.
Cassidy was waiting for me as I exited the airport. "I'm so sorry, I should've checked my emails" she apologised grabbing my bag. "It's fine, let's go. I'm exhausted" I replied grabbing my bag back. We caught an uber back to the hotel. I rehearsed my script with Cassidy for the next few hours, trying not to memorise it so it would sound genuine.
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punchlineprincess Done filming my first special, can't wait for it to air🥹🥹
y/bff/user I'M SO EXCITED🤭🤭 user4 I'll watch it just to see that outfit😍 user5 so pretty😍😍 y/mum/user so proud of my baby💖 y/dad/user my baby's all grown up😭❤️
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punchlineprincess Joked my way into his life🫣🫣
y/bff/user ooohhhh who is this??👀👀 y/dad/user what is this behaviour y/n??? user6 OMG!!! I love this❤️❤️ user7 the best couple ever and idek the guy😅😅 user9 y/n being sporty wasn't in my bingo card🤷‍♀���🤷‍♀️ user10 the golf date!!!❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 user11 I want to go to an art museum with my lover and imitate art like that😏😏 user12 this is so Carlos coded plus he's in the likes😣😣
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punchlineprincess I may have gone overboard for the premier at home🥲😅
y/bff/user I'M SCREAMING WHILE WATCHING IT🥹🥹 y/mum/user my baby❤️ carlossainz55 so proud of you ❤️Liked by Author user13 what does Carlos mean by that, like he knows her🙂👀 user14 the funniest shit i've watched in a while🤣🤣 user15 loved this so much!!!❤️🤣 user16 finally the real comedian that's getting the recognition she deserves😂😂
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punchlineprincess Sorry I'm not normal about my boyfriend winning his second race this season😭😭
carlossainz55 I think having you there was my lucky charm🍀❤️ punchlineprincess carlossainz55 aww!! but it was your big brain and hard work❤️❤️🥹 y/bff/user aww!! watching both my babies win respectively 😭😭Liked by carlossainz55 and punchlineprincess y/dad/user good job Carlos👍 Liked by carlossainz55 user12 I should've known after those dates🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ user20 seeing her hug his mom when he won was so cute😭😭 user21 the most unlikely couple🥹🥹 user22 I get it Carlos, I get it😍😍 user23 Vamos Carlos!!👍👍 user24 I want a full timeline how everything went down😩 user25 I'm so happy I got to witness this race😭😭 user26 she was so sweet to all the fans and even took pictures with us!!😭🥹
After the race win celebrations on the podium and the team, after the interviews when I finally got him all to myself; "I'm so proud of you baby" I whispered as I pressed a kiss on his lips. "I'm so happy you got to see me win" Carlos mumbled not letting go. "I can't believe instead of watching you on TV I got to watch you in real life" I said pulling away. "I don't know why you lied to me when we met" Carlos laughed. "Well I couldn't tell you I'm @ carloslover on Instagram and Twitter and I've been in love with you since you debuted" I laughed. "I think I wouldn't have paid much attention since you're so pretty" Carlos smiled running his hands down my sides to rest on my waist. "Well I'm a Carlos lover and I am Carlos's lover. It's a win win" I smiled, "You and I both, princessa, you and I both" Carlos captured my lips in another, yet steamy kiss pulling me closer so my body was touching his, "You are all sticky and smell of champagne", I mumbled against his lips trying to pull away but Carlos pulled me closer, "No" he muttered and continued kissing me. He walked back to sit on the couch pulling me down with him, straddling his lap. He pulled me closer, our bodies touching, his hands roaming mine before they found home on my ass. We pulled away slightly breathless but Carlos than started his assault on my neck, sucking on my sweet spot near my collar bone while pushing me down on his lap. I could feel him grow under me. I pushed him away, "Nope" I said firmly. "No?" he asked cocking his head to the right with his big brown puppy eyes, "We're not doing it here. Let's get back to the hotel, maybe after you smell a little less like alcohol, I'll think about it" I said getting up. "Y/N" he whined holding my hands as I stood in front of him. "Not even for today's race winner" he pouted. "No. Baby, this is your work place. I will do anything and everything you want but out of the paddock" I said. "The car?" Carlos perked up. "Carlos, darling, we'll be on the headline tomorrow reading Carlos Sainz Jr knows how to celebrate his win in Mexico with girlfriend in his black Ferrari" I said. "Fine, Let's go back soon. I can't wait" he humphed before going to change out of his race suit. "I love you" I called out. "También te amo" he called back.
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ryin-silverfish · 8 months ago
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One nerd's musing about Chinese religion and "respect"
-I try to stay away from fandom discourse, but, much like how you can smell the stench from a dumpster fire without walking into said dumpster fire, I've noticed something that seemed to come up a lot in western JTTW + adjacent fandoms: "respect Chinese religion".
-Usually as a reason for why you shouldn't ship a character, because of fucking course it's shipping discourse too.
-And my first reaction is "Man, you are taking Chinese religion too darn seriously, more than people who are born and raised in China."
-My second reaction is "I mean, most of us are atheist/agnostic by default anyways, with a good number of what I'd call 'atheist/agnostics with superstitions': people who said they were not religious, yet believed in Fengshui or divinations and burnt incense at temples for good luck."
-My third reaction: "But why do I get the feeling that when you mention 'Respect', you are thinking about something completely different?"
-Then I reread an essay from Anthony C. Yu, "Religion and Literature in China: The "Obscure Way" of Journey to the West", and the metaphorical lightbulb just lit up over my head.
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(Everything below applies more to Daoism + associated folk religions, but by the time most classic Chinese vernacular novels were written, the blending of the three religions had become well and truly mainstream.)
(The conception of gods differs from dynasty to dynasty. What I'm describing here is mostly based on Ming and Qing ones; if you went back to Han or pre-Qin times, most of these would not apply.)
(I am one of the "atheist/agnostic by default" people. I just have an interest in this kind of stuff. I am also just one Chinese person, and an actual Daoist/Buddhist/Religion Studies researcher would probably have a lot more valuable information and perspective to offer when it comes to contemporary practices and worship. Like any people on the internet: take my words with a grain of salt.)
-Even in the past, when society was far less secularized, Chinese gods are not omniscient, perfect beings whose worship is a solemn, humorless affair. Some's worship are Serious Business, but that has more to do with the sort of gods they are and the patronage they enjoy, not godhood in and of itself.
-And even the ones that you are supposed to "treat seriously" are still very human. To use an analogy I've used plenty of times before: you respect and fear them in the same way you'd respect and fear an emperor's official, or the emperor himself, because if you don't, you are not gonna like the consequences.
-However, unlike Jesus, the emperor & his officials were capable of being temperamental, flawed, or an outright asshole, divine or not. Ideally, they wouldn't be, and if you were one of the "serious" believers——people who actually got an official permit, became ordained clergy, and went to live in a temple, you were unlikely to think of your gods in that manner.
-But it wasn't a complete, utter impossibility. The lower you go in the pantheon, the closer you get to popular religion, the less "serious" the gods and their worship become. By that, I mean general attitude, not sincerity of faith. You still shouldn't be rude to them, but, well, they are more likely to take a joke in stride, or participate in the "vulgar" pleasures of commoners because they weren't as bound to Confucian moral standards or religious disciplines.
-To stretch the same analogy further: you should still respect your village head, they could still give your ass a good spanking for being a disrespectful brat, but you were not obligated to get on your knees and kowtow to them like you would do in front of a provincial magistrate, the emperor's minister, or the emperor himself, nor did they have the power to chop your head off just because you were rude.
-On the other hand, the emperor would never visit a random peasant just to help them fix their broken plow or treat them to a nice meal, but your village head could, and your relationship would probably be warmer and a lot more personal as a result.
-Your respect for them was more likely to stem from the things they actually did for you and the village as a whole, instead of something owed to this distant, powerful authority you might never get to see in your lifetime, but could change its course with a single stroke of a brush.
-Now exchange "village head" for your run-of-the-mill Tudis and Chenghuangs and friendly neighborhood spirits (because yes, people worshipped yaoguais for the exact same reasons), emperor + his officials for the Celestial Bureaucracy, and you'd have a basic idea of how Chinese religions worked on the ground level.
-This is far from absolute: maybe your village head was a spiteful old bastard who loved bullying his juniors, maybe your regional magistrate was an honest, upright man who could enjoy a good drink and a good laugh, maybe the emperor was a lenient one and wouldn't chop your head off for petty offenses. But their general degree of power over you and the closeness of your relationships still apply.
-Complicating the matter further, some folk gods (like Wutong) were worshipped not because they brought blessings, but because they were the divine equivalent of gangsters running a protection racket: you basically bribed them with offerings so they'd leave you alone and not wreck your shit. Famous people who died violently and were posthumously deified often fell into this category——shockingly enough, Guan Yu used to be one such god!
-Yeah, kinda like how your average guy could become an official through the imperial examinations, so could humans become gods through posthumous worship, or cultivate themselves into immortals and Enlightened beings.
-Some immortals aren't qualified for, or interested in a position in the Celestial Bureaucracy——they are the equivalent of your hermits, your cloistered Daoist priests, your common literati who kept trying and failing the exams. But some do get a job offer and gladly take it.
-Anyways, back to my original point: that's why it's so absurd when people pull the "Respect Chinese Religion1!!1!" card and immediately follow up with "Would you do X to Jesus?"
-Um, there are a lot of things you can do with Chinese gods that I'm pretty sure you can't do with Jesus. Like worshipping him side by side with Buddha and Confucius (Lao Tzu). Or inviting him to possess you and drink copious amount of alcohol (Tang-ki mediums in SEA). Or genderbend him into a woman over the course of several centuries because folks just like that version of Jesus better (Guan Yin/Avalokitesvara).
-But most importantly, Chinese religions are kinda a "free market" where you could pick and choose between gods, based on their vicinity to you and how efficient they were at answering prayers. You respect them because they'll help you out, you aren't an asshole and know your manners, and pissing them off is a bad idea in general, not because they are some omnipotent, perfect beings who demand exclusive and total reverence.
-A lot of the worship was also, well, very "practical" and almost transactional in nature: leave offerings to Great Immortal Hu, and he doesn't steal your imperial seal while you aren't looking. Perform the rites right and meditate on a Thunder General's visage, and you can temporarily channel said deity's power. Get this talisman for your kids at Bixia Yuanjun's temple, and they'll be protected from smallpox.
-"Faith alone" or "Scripture alone" is seldom the reason people worship popular deities. Even the obsession with afterlife wasn't about the eternal destination of your soul, and more about reducing the potential duration of the prison sentence for you and your loved ones so you can move on faster and reincarnate into a better life.
-Also, there isn't a single "canon" of scriptures. Many popular gods don't show up in Daoist literature until much later. Daoist scriptures often came up with their own gigantic pantheons, full of gods no one had heard of prior to said book, or enjoyed no worship in temples whatsoever.
-In the same way famous dead people could become gods via worship, famous fictional characters could, too, become gods of folk religion——FSYY's pantheon was very influential on popular worship, but that doesn't mean you should take the novels as actual scriptures.
-Like, God-Demon novels are to orthodox Daoism/Buddhism what the Divine Comedy is to medieval Christian doctrines, except no priests had actually built a Church of Saint Beatrice, while Daoists did put FSYY characters into their temples. By their very nature, the worship that stemmed from these books is not on the same level of "seriousness" as, say, the Tiantai school of Buddhism and their veneration of the Lotus Sutra.
-At the risk of being guilty of the same insertion of Christianity where it doesn't belong: You don't cite Dante's Inferno in a theological debate, nor would any self-respecting pastor preach it to churchgoers on a Sunday.
-Similarly, you don't use JTTW or FSYY as your sole evidence for why something is "disrespectful to Chinese religion/tradition" when many practitioners of said religions won't treat them as anything more than fantasy novels.
-In fact, let's use Tripitaka as an example. The historical Xuanzang was an extraordinarily talented, faithful, and determined monk. In JTTW, he was a caricature of a Confucian scholar in a Buddhist kasaya and served the same narrative function as Princess Peach in a Mario game.
-Does the presence of satire alone make JTTW anti-Buddhist, or its religious allegories less poignant? I'd say no. Should you take it as seriously as actual Buddhist sutras, when the book didn't even take itself 100% seriously? Also no.
-To expand further on the idea of "seriousness": even outside of vernacular novels, practitioners are not beholden to a universal set of strict religious laws and taboos.
-Both Daoism and Buddhism had what we called "cloistered" and "non-cloistered" adherents; only the former needed to follow their religious laws and (usually) took a vow of celibacy.
-Certain paths of Daoist cultivation allow for alcohol and sexual activities (thanks @ruibaozha for the info), and some immortals, like Lv Dongbin, had a well-established "playboy" reputation in folklore.
-Though it was rarer for Buddhism and very misunderstood, esoteric variants of it did utilize sexual imageries and sex. And, again, most of the above would not apply if you weren't among the cloistered and ordained clergy.
-Furthermore, not even the worship of gods is mandatory! You could just be a Daoist who was really into internal alchemy, cultivating your body and mind in order to prolong your lifespan and, ideally, attain immortality.
-This idea of "respect" as…for a lack of better words, No Fun & R18 Stuff Allowed, you must treat all divinity with fearful reverence and put yourself completely at their mercy, is NOT the norm in Chinese religious traditions.
-There are different degrees and types of respect, and not every god is supposed to be treated like the Supreme Heavenly Emperor himself during an imperial ceremony; the gods are capable of cracking a joke, and so are we!
TL;DR: Religions are complicated, and you aren't respecting Chinese religions by acting like a stereotypical Puritan over popular Chinese deities and their fictional portrayals.
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coffeeshopguest · 8 months ago
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please i need stardew valley bachelors in a kinky gangbang with gender neutral or female farmer!
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I loved this suggestion but please have mercy, I didn't know which ones you wanted so I did all 6 which was VERY difficult for me to incorporate so I made it sort of cheap in the end to save having to write a whole night of sex with them all 😭 pls enjoy! I'm sorry if it's a little shitty, I've never written or read group sex stuff 😭
The Bachelor's and the Farmer's Night
Word Count: 1569
Pairing: F!Reader x Sebastian, Harvey, Sam, Alex, Shane & Elliott
Warning: 18+, group sex, rope kink, handcuffs, swearing, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, anal mention, oral mention, cum swallowing, light bdsm (choking, spanking), all of it is pretty vague and quickly mentioned except the fingering & vaginal sex
It was Sam's idea. Not that he was gonna openly parade that around to anyone at first. It started as a pathetic fantasy that he would get off on at night, thin walls making him cover his own mouth as he imagined the farmer laying on a bed, tied down, taking it from him and Sebastian over and over. He was ashamed to even incorporate his friend in a fantasy, but the idea of a threesome with the farmer and Sebastian was just...so fucking hot. The idea of watching her get fucked, then fucking her - Sam was a simple man and he nearly came on the spot every single time he imagined it. 
What's worse? He began incorporating the idea of Alex in the mix. He was friendly with Alex - and Sam had seen the farmer interacting with Alex a lot recently. Even throwing around a football with him the other day. Sam didn't immediately think anything of it, until he woke up sweating and hard, having dreamt the farmer and Alex going at it while Sam jacked off and waited for his turn patiently. Slowly, Sam began to think about...what if more people got involved? And oh, god. He finally let it slip to Sebastian. 
"What do you think of that new farmer?" Sam asked as he took a shot for one of the striped balls on the pool table. His voice was even, but his heart was racing a pathetic amount. 
Sebastian leaned on his stick, watching Sam's shot. "She's cute," Sebastian answered. The two made slow eye contact and Sam debated just leaving the whole conversation at that. But something about the way Sebastian stared him down made him crack. 
"Yeah, yeah, she is...uh- you like her?" 
Sebastian took a swig of his drink, nodded a little. "Sure," he said, "why?" 
"How...how do you like her?" Sam gently rested his stick down on the wall, watching his friend. "Like," he began, "sexually...or...?" 
Eyes widening a little, Sebastian tilted his head. "I- we don't usually talk about that kinda stuff," he dismissed, turning his attention to the pool table and ignoring Sam for a moment. 
Sam nodded slightly, before he finally whispered, "I know but I want to...uh..." he glanced around the Saloon to see if anyone was looking towards them. No one was. "I kinda want to...have...some group sex with them." 
Sebastian took a shot, perhaps out of shock, the cue ball launched across the table and sunk a striped ball. He stared down at the table. Quiet. "Just us three or?" 
"Uhm...I was thinking maybe Alex..." 
Sebastian raised his head up, hair falling over his left eye. "The farmer? Did you talk to her?"
 Sam shook his head and Sebastian slowly turned to the table where he'd set his drink aside, grabbing it and gently taking a sip. "Ask her. Tell me when you do."
"You...you're in?" 
Sebastian gave a short nod, and the two acted as though the conversation never even happened. 
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When presented with the idea, albeit from a terrified Sam, you agreed immediately. With a condition. You wanted Sam to invite Elliott, Shane, and Harvey. His eyes widened. 
"Six....you want six guys-" you nodded. Sam had to awkwardly adjust his pants, at the mere suggestion of that many guys fucking you he got hard. Just the idea of watching it was too much for him. "I- I'll see what they say." 
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To Sam's shock, every single person agreed. He was expecting a sharp no from Shane, but he said yes without a second thought. Harvey stuttered out a "Oh...holy shit...uh- at the farm-?" and blushed madly. Elliott tried to maintain some sort of dignity but by the immediate bulge in his pants Sam guessed his answer before Elliott could recover words and agree. Alex tried to act disgusted at first. But then he mumbled a "can I bring handcuffs and rope?" (Sam asked "dude you live with your grandparents in a small town, why do you even have those?" and was met with a glare). 
So it was arranged, a day and time was set. The six made their way down to the farm, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Sam was hard basically half the day before this, eagerly awaiting the nighttime - when his fantasy would become reality. The farmer answered the door, smiling softly at the six men. "Boys, come on in," she smiled. Sam nearly choked, they were wearing a flannel, opened up, only a bra underneath. Fuck. Fucking christ. She was good at this. 
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Upon being brought to the bedroom, Sam gently guided you to lay down, Harvey quickly mumbled "she needs a safe word-" and the rest agreed. Turning their attention to you. Six flushed, eager faces. You felt like prey laying in the bed, flannel opened to expose your bra. A safe word definitely was needed. As much as you wanted to take all six repeatedly you weren't entirely sure how much you could take before you were too used.
"Red light," you murmured out. "Yellow light means give me a break, but I want to keep going." 
And so it began. Sam quickly ripped off the flannel and tossed it aside, then tore the bra off and threw it aside, his hands wandered to your jeans, slowly unzipping them. Your panties exposed, he gently moved his hand down, rubbing softly against the wet spot. You bit your lip, about to moan. Quickly, Sam backed up, Sebastian took one side of the bed and Alex the other. Hands launched to your chest, as Sam gently finished pulling off your pants. A hand on each breast, gently running your ripples through their fingers, you began moaning out loud. Sam got off the bed. 
"Who wants to go first?" he asked, Elliott stepped forward. He gently undid his pants, erection springing out. He gently lined up. 
You bit your lip, before he backed away, "did...anyone bring lube?" Elliott's voice gently asked. It was Harvey who had, gently digging it out of his jacket pocket and handing it over. Elliott gently poured some into his hand, gliding it across your pussy causing you to moan out. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Sam, eagerly jacking off as he watched. Sebastian was still by your side, but his hands had left your body. Elliott gently shoved a finger in. "I'll start slow, you're about to have a hell of a night," he said reassuringly. 
You looked up into his eyes, nodding softly. He smiled, gently leaning down, placing a kiss on your forehead, before be pulled his finger out. "Did that hurt at all?" you shook your head, and he gently shoved two fingers in, letting your body adjust to the feeling, he slowly began pumping them in and out of you. All eyes were on you and you whimpered softly, meeting eyes with Shane who was still fully dressed. 
"Sha- shane-" you mumbled, gasping as Elliott's fingers expertly worked you. "Can- you- strip?" 
A hand gently laced around your neck, "use manners, baby, what do we say?" it was Sebastian's hand, tight grip but just light enough not to hurt. Elliott's fingers effortlessly kept time. 
"Please?" you whimpered, the hand left your neck and Shane slowly began to undo his belt. As soon as he was stripped, Elliott's hands left you, for only a second you had a miserable feeling of emptiness before Shane swapped with Elliott. 
He postioned himself, hands gently gripping your hips as he found where to line up. "Ready?" you nodded, and with one swift thrust he was in you. Lips found your neck, Shane was focused on fucking you. It was Harvey who had knelt beside you, hand gently gliding down your body to your tit's. Lips on your neck, sucking and leaving a hickey. 
Shane grunted, speeding up more. "Fuck- tight...gonna-" 
"Not in her," Sam whimpered, you had forgotten Sam was still here, in the corner of the events jacking off. "We can't all...not in her." 
To describe the events would be tiring and long and endless. They took turns, spilling themselves over your naked body, in your ass, in your mouth. Alex was partial to rough sex, Sam into watching, Harvey wanted to pleasure you however you asked, Shane was focused solely on his own quick finish, Sebastian wanted to tie you down with Alex's ropes when he fucked you and choke you out, Elliott was gentle and soft and sweet and placed kisses on your forehead as you took their dicks over and over and over. 
In the end, the sun rose when you guys finally ended the session. You had given several sessions of head. Taken fingers, fists, and dicks. Been tied down, choked, spanked, had your hair pulled. And each of them had asked for something the others hadn't. Sam begged to finish by jacking off onto your naked body. Sebastian wanted your lips wrapped around his cock when he finished. Alex, he was the one who dug out a condom so he could feel your pussy tighten around him as he came inside you. 
When the session ended, you simply told all of them. "We're doing this again." 
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