#rethink classical

[nofatclips]

The Wolf by Jherek Bischoff with the SCRAPE Quartet, live for Second Inversion

[motherkatereloyshipper]

Holy biscuits.

I have never even thought about that and have read that story more than once a year for the last 25 years, it would not be beyond the realms of possibility to say that, if we include adaptations, I have consumed this story over two-hundred times (there is a summer with a breakup and the Colin Firth adaptation that is definitely skewing the numbers here) I have never even considered the possibility that she had a banger of a headache and -maybe- had aspirin, they were skint, it's not like she had laudenum!

(Although that would be a funny AU too).

an underrated detail in pride and prejudice is that elizabeth bennett was home alone on the day darcy proposed because she had a headache. can you imagine. this was in the pre-painkillers era. you're at home with a headache and then this asshole walks into the room and tells you he loves you and wants to marry you even though he hates your whole family and you're beneath him. imagine having to deal with that while also having a headache. she doesn't even have ibuprofen

[talesfromthebandgeekmafia]

Just realized my favorite books are Pride & Prejudice, Frankenstein, and Little Women.

I apparently have a marked taste for classic novels written by women in the 1800s.

[neverendingford]

.

[patricia-taxxon]

every socially conscious person knows about the "misogyny in rap music" dogwhistle, right? it's a classic, because it hides its bigoted assumptions inside of a half-truth. rap music is male-dominated, and there is a pattern of misogyny within it, but anyone who focuses on it exclusively is leaving out half the story. men are misogynistic, but black men are more vulnerable. If I, a white person, decided to make it my mission to highlight the misogyny and queerphobia of black men specifically, it would be racist of me, no matter how many valid examples i managed to find. i wouldn't be saying it out loud, but i would be implicating black men as being uniquely bigoted, when the truth is simply that i found an easy target to exploit. if you called me on this, and I replied "you can't use your race as a shield when you get called out" it would be an absurd and disgusting deflection. I wouldn't be contradicting anything, it'd be a non sequitur that *also* denies the vulnerability of the group i am exploiting.

anyways, rethink your conception of the "fat incel reddit mod" and the "white transfem who had a nazi phase." thanks for reading

[beomie3]

night lounge - cbg

☆ summary: the nights spent at your favorite night lounge are everything you could ever need. until one night, you stumble upon a man that makes you rethink.

☆ wc: roughly 4k

☆ content: slow burn smut, beomgyu is a gentleman in a jazz band, light bondage (he uses his tie to fasten your wrists), light drinking, cursing, unprotected, lots of kissing :p, fluffy ending, he’s dominant in this <3

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your favorite late-night lounge lies hidden in the underground of a ritzy hotel amidst the city; candlelit and cozy, black silk sofas and a bar equipped with all the drinks for a perfect night.

it'd been your nighttime getaway ever since you discovered it accidentally one night. you haven't found a place quite as unique as it.

you just can't get over the smooth jazz band that plays in it's designated corner every saturday night at sundown when you arrive. the blend is perfect to the ear; smooth saxophone, soft drums, pretty piano, and sometimes a bassist who would join in at midnight and play well into 3 a.m. which is usually when you decide you're satisfied with your night and head home. which to be frank, it's hard to decide when to leave when it's your comfort place. it simply couldn't get better.

or so you thought.

you sat at the usual velvet barstool under the star-shaped chandelier, taking in the ambiance of the dreamy lounge as always. the subtle murmur of guests and clinks of glasses filling the room, dim with dainty light fixtures and flicker of candles in small glass jars at every table.

dried flowers, fairy lights, and classical paintings adorned the walls in such a beautiful way that made you feel nostalgic. like a museum in paris had been turned into a swanky hangout.

if you could describe the place in one word it would be; classy. no, elegant. no.. dreamy. there were just so many attributes to describe your favorite place, you couldn't begin to put your finger on one.

the peace you felt here while sipping red wine or a cocktail while listening to the smooth blend of instruments from the live ensemble was unmatched to any other place ever, like your own little neverland that you escaped to at nightfall.

the bartender you knew well had just placed a tall glass of chardonnay in front of you, setting tonight's mood as you relax under the liquid's musky yet enjoyable flavor.

cozying into the velvet seat, you shifted your attention back to the band, also paying mind to the people subtly beginning to fill the lounge as the night commenced; observing different groups of friends or couples who entered in intricate outfits, most faces familiar to you. admittedly, people watching was a pastime you fairly enjoyed.

but suddenly there appeared the face of a man you had yet to see, noticing his tall figure immediately as he came down the steps with a certain presence that radiated nothing but confidence and poise.

maybe it was the all-black suit he wore or the way his feathered ebony hair parted over his eyes in such a way that made you stare, following his every step into the warm glow of the lounge.

you wondered if he'd come here all along, or if he was simply a figment of your imagination after only two sips of your glass.

he's here for the same reason as you, it seems, as he briskly makes his way over to the bar.

noticing his approach you try your best to disregard him, acting as if you hadn't just watched his entire procession into the lounge.

"anyone sitting here, miss?" a sudden deep and breathy voice calls out from beside you, a dull pang at your stomach when you turn towards the man and realize how much more handsome he is up close. the way the dim light encapsulates his face, noticing the subtle gloss over his skin.

"you." you keep your wits about you, noticing the way the corner of his lip tugs upward when he nods toward you. swiftly taking the seat.

you turn and face the jazz ensemble again, tongue in cheek as you can feel his warmth beside you, trying your best to seem unfazed by his presence. 

although your eyes are on the band, your ears are keen to his thick voice as he orders; a gin martini on the rocks and a side of lime, please. oh and put the jazz band on my tab while you're at it.

you nearly whip your head around at the sound of his request to put the jazz band on his tab. regardless, there were only four members but still...you were in shock and mostly intrigued. it isn't an act of kindness you'd usually hear at the bar.

the waiter gets to work on his drink and your eyes drift to him like a magnet drawn to metal; his mystery, you just wanted to freeze time and observe him.

once your eyes were on him you just couldn't resist the question that lingered on the tip of your tongue.

"do you know the jazz band?" you circle the rim of your glass with a finger, his chocolate eyes immediately boarding into yours along with all of his attention.

"i do. or else there wouldn't be one," his smile slowly grows as yours does, sipping his drink as it arrives. keeping his eyes on you all the while. he's only spoken two sentences to you but you swear there is something about his aura you just can't get enough of.

although he kept his response short and sweet, you put two and two together and concluded that he founded the band or something of the sort. either way, you just couldn't take your eyes off of him.

"well then today is my lucky day," you bring your glass to your lips and he lets out a deep chuckle, setting his glass down with a smirk at you. eyes still glued to his while he briefly looks away to set his glass down, you try taking him all in; the tiny freckle on his cheek, the silver ring in his earlobe, his long eyelashes. he was almost unreal.

"choi beomgyu," he holds a hand out to you, impressed with how much of a gentleman he's been in not even the five minutes you'd spoken to him. sad how low your expectations were after how many royal douchebags you'd come across at this bar.

you state your name in response, taking his warm hand and resisting the urge to smile too big when he slightly bows his head toward you, eyes never leaving yours as he gently shakes your hand.

that wasn't until he brought the back of your hand to his lips like a prince to a princess, that your heart nearly beat out of your chest; simply carried away by his charm. you’d never been greeted this way.

"i take it you enjoy my band," he slowly releases your hand. "rare to see someone just sit. listen. enjoy the music." he slightly reclines, bringing his glass back to his plump lips with those deep brown eyes on you.

"saturday nights are always my favorite." you nod, slightly reclining in your seat too, mimicking his body language.

"i know." his smile slightly grows behind the rim of his glass, wondering how the hell he knows if you'd never met him in your life.

"and how is it that you know that?" you slightly tilt your head, crossing your legs toward him and narrowing your eyes in await for a response.

"velvet chair at the end of the bar under the star-shaped chandelier. it's your seat. how could i not know where the most beautiful woman in this place sits?"

you're good at not showing how flustered you are; legs tightly crossed together, cheek caught in between your teeth, biting back the biggest damn smile.

"saturday nights are my favorite too," he looks over at the band and it isn't until he makes a bass-playing gesture with his fingers that the puzzle pieces click.

he's the bassist that comes on the stage when the lights go dark at midnight with only candles and fairy lights left to illuminate the room as people slow dance. you thought his silhouette might have looked familiar when he came down the stairs, considering that was all you ever knew of him.

he chuckles at your reaction to it finally clicking within you, truly appreciating your deep love for his performances, as no one usually cares much.

you and choi beomgyu continued chatting the night away, and he can see deep in your eyes that you're passionate about what you talk about. he loved finding out that the girl he always keeps his eye on when he's on stage secretly always admired him and his work.

when the bartender comes around with refills, beomgyu only orders water, finding it rather refreshing that a man can control himself and find satisfaction in only one drink as you usually do.

at midnight when the lights dim, beomgyu leads you hand in hand to the front row of the stage, getting to watch his performance front and center. he loves seeing you so close, usually having to deal with watching you from afar when you sat at the bar.

he performs dried flower, your favorite song preformed by the band. you watch his fingers caress the strings, long and dainty, pretty fingers. clad in expensive rings. wrist dangling with dainty charm bracelets. he has a certain class that is hard to find in men, and you feel yourself falling for him every passing second.

hes so passionate when he plays; eyebrows slightly furrowed as he instinctively plucks every note just perfectly. you’re also keen to every woman staring at him when his solo comes, whispering and giggling amongst one another. you grin.

after, he steps down and joins you in the crowd, asking for your hand and the two of you slow dance to the soft jazz, your head in his chest as he carefully steps with you. he smells of soft cashmere, and that’s the last thing you take note of before you’ve fallen completely head over heels.

the lights dim a bit more, his face barely lit by the candles but you can still see the sparkle in his eyes. his gaze is soft, yet intense and your heart stops as his face inches closer.

before you know it, your lips are touching what feels like velvet pillows; his lips. your heart races, blood rushing to your face and he pulls you closer, feeling his chest press against yours.

his sweet kiss lingers on your lips. you must have a sweet tooth, because you’re craving more.

“how about we get out of here?” his eyes are so intense on yours, realizing your fingers had interlaced into his long ago as you slow danced.

your eyes say it all; both of your body language says it all. you can practically feel your body heat radiating through your silk dress. cheeks flushed as he guides you through the crowd and out into the cool night air.

the taxi ride to his place is tense as you sit hip to hip, his fingers tracing your palm and you can’t seem to take your eyes off of one another. the taxi driver is the only thing keeping him from saying some not so appropriate things out loud, so instead he whispers them in your ear and you’re a giggling mess.

his high rise apartment is classy like him; low lighting and wooden accents, a baby grand piano in the corner under a chandelier, record player and a vinyl collection. an array of basses and guitars adorning the living room. it reminds you of the lounge, in fact; classical paintings and candles and dried flowers on the dining room table.

the tension only builds and builds, until it snaps.

he does so much as put a record on and offer you a glass of wine before your lips are on each other’s again. messy makeout, fingers intertwined in hair. his fingers precisely unbuttoning his suit before sliding under your silk dress.

the two of you stumble toward his king bed and you help him loosen his tie but he ushers your hand away, swiftly removing it from himself.

you fall backwards on his bed, feeling the silk sheets fluff up around you, cold against your boiling skin. he stands between your legs, pulling you toward the edge of the bed toward him with hands hooked underneath your thighs.

“hands above your head,” his voice is husky, eyes dark as he towers over you. dark brown hair messy and fluffed over his forehead.

his demand makes you twice as soaked and you swear a puddle has formed between your legs. you do as he says, feeling the cold air waft against the sensitive skin of your under arms and you’re pelted with goosebumps.

“good girl,” his voice is low, eyes dark. his cock twitches in his pants as you had done what he said, leaning down to hold your hands in place. your eyes widen when he uses his black tie to begin tying your hands together above your head.

“is this okay?” he focuses intensely into your eyes as he makes several concise knots, his voice tender and genuine as you bite your lip. it’s more than okay.

“mhmm,” you moan into his lips as he kisses you, pressing his hips against your clothed heat, legs spread, wrapping around his torso.

you didn’t know what to expect from this choi beomgyu guy, but you could tell he was amazing in bed since the moment you met. he’s had you on edge, turned on since the moment he spoke. he really knows how to turn you the fuck on.

you’re completely out of control now, your wrists fastened tightly together by his tie but you love the feeling more than you ever expected.

he starts slow but increasingly gets more feral. starting by kissing your neck softly, he slips your silk dress off and blood rushes straight to his dick.

you’re wearing a lace bra, extremely see through so that he can see that your nipples are hard and poking out him. but what makes him nearly salivate; you’re not wearing any underwear.

well, you were wearing underwear earlier tonight at first arriving to the lounge, but you’d taken them off somewhere along the night.

“check your pocket,” you eyed the front pocket of his suit jacket and when he stuck his hand in it to discover a pair of lacy underwear, his tongue darts to wet his lips. he fought the urge to absolutely fuck the shit out of you right here right now.

“such a sneaky girl, hm?” he cocks his head to the side, the hint of a sly grin on his lips as he slides his suit jacket off, leaving him only his white button up shirt, yet it’s unbuttoned so that you can see his bare chest and torso peeking through. he pushes the sleeves up and runs his fingers through his feathered hair to expose his forehead briefly. he’s so unbelievably sexy.

his hands are a bit rougher on you now, gripping the fat of your hips as he tongue kisses you, so messy and wet and hot. trailing his lips all over your chest, he bites your nipples softly through the lace and it feels so fucking good. he makes a mess of his spit, kissing your body until his reaches your bare pussy, already drenched for him.

“already so fucking wet and i haven’t even done anything,” he groans at the sight of your wetness dribbling out and onto his sheets. he really can’t believe his eyes at how soaked you are, can’t stop thinking of how good you’re going to feel when he fucks you.

his lips are level with your lower ones and he stares up at you through fluffed bangs over his thick brows. you anticipate what his tongue will feel like inside of you, shuddering when his hot breath wafts against you. you’re so sensitive.

he supports your thighs with his hands, setting each of your feet to rest on the tops of his shoulders. you’re spread wide open for him so that he has the best view of your entirety.

he hasn’t even fucking done anything and you moan out, a deep chuckle rumbling in his throat. just the air exuded from his nose when he breathes brushes against your clit and stimulates it.

his tongue finally traces over your bud and you whip your head back onto his memory foam mattress. you can’t do this; no, there’s far too much pleasure. you’d never been this sensitive with anyone in your life. you'd never been this turned on by anything.

when his lips attach to your clit and suck, your hands shoot into his soft hair, grabbing handfuls of it as you whimper loudly; slurping sounds and moans echoing throughout his bedroom. your sounds egg him on; cock twitching violently in his pants with every single one of your sweet sounds.

when he inserts two long fingers into you and curls them up to your g-spot, it’s over for you. it only takes about four strokes of his fingers until you’re spasming, fluttering intensely around his fingers and grinding yourself into his face. his moans vibrate against you. no one had ever made you finish this fast.

“god beomgyu you’re- so fucking good-,” you huff out of breath between words, heavy head thrown back, chest heaving. his ego is stroked yet again.

the recovery from your orgasm is fast as he is quick to kiss you, need prevalent in his veins as you feel fire in him with the way his lips devour yours.

you clench around nothing, squeezing his arms tightly as nervous shudders course through your veins. you need him.

“choi beomgyu,” you whisper against his lips and his hungry eyes board into yours, lips puffy and glossy; he’s looks way too hot right now. you lean up to whisper in his ear.

“fuck me,” your voice is quiet, desperate. hot breath seeping down his neck. he is done for. he's kept his composure this long. but there is always a point where he absolutely loses it.

he can’t wait any longer, swiftly unbuckling his belt and dropping his perfectly ironed black trousers down to his knees along with his boxers.

when his cock springs out, it slaps up against his abdomen with a heavy thud and your eyes widen. he’s got a big fucking dick. your throat bobs as you swallow down a bundle of nerves.

“holy shit,” you say under your breath but he hears you; dark smirk spreading across his lips. he looks down at himself, spreading the ooze of precum around his tip; a darkened pink shade with all of the blood flowing up to it.

since the moment you saw him walk through the door at the lounge tonight, you’ve wanted to fuck him. but the moment he saw you for the first time; oh he’s been wanting to fuck you for months.

"what was that darling?" he leans down to look into your eyes, tender touch against your cheek as he snakes a hand around your thigh and pulls it up so that your knee is up against your chest.

"hm?" his lips are inches away from yours, eyes dark and flicking down to your lips and back up into your eyes repeatedly. he throws your leg over his shoulder.

your heart strums against your ribs as you're anxious to take him, yet you can't wait.

"you can take me, right gorgeous?" he tilts his head and you can't process how beautiful he looks right now; soft, chandelier lights of his bedroom reflect from his big, brown doe-shaped eyes. your mauve lipstick smeared across his lips and chin. hair tousled back, revealing his perfect eyebrows and forehead. the sheen of sweat glimmering from his skin.

"i can take you," a small grin is on your lips as you fiddle with the end of his tie around your wrists, realizing that having your hands tied above your head has made you way more sensitive than normal.

looking down at the space in between the two of you, he rubs the tip of his cock up and down your folds, causing you to shudder. he places small kisses to your knee, as it's resting by his cheek.

you suck air through your teeth when you feel a slight stretch as he guides himself into you, going slow enough to get you adjusted to his tip. you keep your eyes locked as he slides the rest in little by little, moans growing louder as the stretch intensifies. looking down, you realize he's only half-way in and you look up at him, lip caught between his teeth.

the stretch is so intense, but not as intense as his eyes on yours, searching deep into your soul. his hands come up to fiddle with the knot of his tie around your hands, suddenly feeling it loosen and your hands are free. immediately, they fly into his hair, thumbs soft over the sides of his face. he untied them for this exact reason; to feel your intoxicating touch all over him.

suddenly, you feel his hips meet the back of your thigh, and that's when you know he's all the way in. your mouth is agape as he slowly begins moving in an out of you, crashing your lips back to his as the skin of his thighs begins to slap against yours.

his hands are busy on you; one palming your tits as the other hooked under your thigh to keep your leg situated atop his shoulder.

taking him raw feels so wrong but so right; the edge of his tip feels fantastic against your g-spot, thick veins massaging you just right. your arousal leaves a milky white ring around the base of his cock as he slams into you. he collects some, bringing it to your mouth, followed by crashing his lips to yours again so that you can both taste it together.

“you feel so fucking amazing,” he breaks the kiss to speak to you, followed by a moan as he slams as deep as he can into you. you’ve ajusted well at the is point that the pain has turned into pleasure. his soft whimpers in your ear were enough to make you even wetter, easing the process of being stretched out.

he shuts his eyes as you’re sucking him i’m so perfectly, so turned on by the squelch of your pussy every time he enters you. he fights back the urge to cum, but it’s so hard with how beautiful you look right now.

your face is contorted in pleasure, hair sprawled out all over his bed, shimmery sheen on your skin from a mixture of sweat, tits bouncing with every slam of his hips.

“god you’re taking it so well,” he groans against your neck, lifting your other thigh so that both of your legs are swung over his shoulders. he’s impressed by your flexibility as his chest is pressed against yours, realizing just how far he is leaned down against you.

his hips are rhythmic against yours, grinding himself into you, a good tactic to stimulate your clit with this pelvis. it’s like he’s a professional.

his name along with a mixture of curses leave your lips in drawn out moans as your nails dig into his back, the sound of his name nearly drives him insane and he fucks you harder.

you feel the familiar ache in your core with every thrust, and he already knows you’re close because of how much tighter you’ve become around him.

he’s a moaning mess, deep voice like honey in your ear as you suck him in even tighter now. he reaches down to thumb at your clit and you’re right there, right on the edge.

“harder beomgyu, fuck me harder!” you bite down on his shoulder, his hips slamming at a pace so fast that his bed is creaking so loud. your moans probably audible from outside his apartment at this point.

“you gonna cum for me? yeah? cum all over my cock sweetheart c’mon,” his voice is loud yet deep and husky. his eyebrows are furrowed together in pleasure, sweat dripping from his neck and onto your chest.

the slapping of skin is so loud now, and he gives you three precise thrusts before you completely combust.

your sporadic moans are not what tells him you’ve just finished, it’s the absolutely insane convulsions that he feels inside you, fluttering around him at what feels like 200 miles per hour.

it’s enough to push him right over the edge in an ínstense orgasm. he pulls out immediately, busting all over your tummy and angling it to get some on your chest and face. milky white all over you, and there’s a lot too.

he’s so god damn vocal as he cums, his head thrown back so that you can see his addams apple in full glory, bobbing up and down as he moans.

you wipe your chin of his cum and lick your fingers clean, addicted to his salty-sweet taste.

he looks so exhausted as his chest heaves, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. but he doesn’t lay down on the bed just yet; instead he walks to his bathroom, getting a towel to clean you up first like the gentleman he is.

he wipes his fluids off of you with a warm wash rag, tender eyes on your skin as he softly cleanses you. there is a soft quietness about the room, not awkward, soothing actually.

he helps you under his silk sheets once you’re all cleaned up and he snuggles under with you, propping his head up on his hand as he rubs small circles on your shoulder.

“i look forward to seeing you at every show,” his voice is soft, a tender smile on his lips. you love how calm he is, how respectful, how tranquil. almost like he’s healing something deep within you.

“always,” you smile in return. you talked about anything and everything, in love with the way his eyes were attentive to you, keen to every single thing you had to say.

finding his hand under the sheets, you fiddle with his fingers, imagining all the things the future has in store for the two of you. you just knew this was the start of something special.

you hear the record player in his living room echoing with your favorite song, dried flower.

“can i have this dance?” he squeezes your hand under the sheets, smiling. and although you’re both tired, you each slip on a robe and walk hand in hand to his candle-lit living room.

it feels like you’re meant to do this with him, like you’ve done it together before in a past life.

you thought nights at your favorite lounge were everything you could ever need. but that wasn’t true. because tonight, meeting the love of your life proved you wrong in every single way.

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note: here is a gyu fic!! tysm for continuing to support my works while i've been gone. i'm currently vising japan and i've been here for a few months :) i'm happy to announce i'm working on a tokyo part 3 for those who enjoyed tokyo and the sequel!!! i plan on releasing more fics in the mean time. i hope you enjoyed this one<3

[gothghostiie]

I need tf. 141 with a bratty reader 😭 PLEASE

-🪩 (does anyone have this one?)

so do i bestie

and nope, all yours 🫶🏻

cw: hints of poly!141, brat taming, overstimulation, spanking, humiliation, bondage

all of these men love a good little brat, whether it's because they like the behaviour or like breaking them in.

Gaz likes playing with brats, he thinks the defiance us actually adorable. hes not the type to punish the behaviour in the classical sense, he's a pleasure dom through and through; to your demise. you think it's funny mouthing off to him, until you're tied to his bed, legs spread and stuffed to the brim with toys and fingers, his lips wrapped around your clit/cock, suckling away as youre crying from pleasure. "what's the matter honey?" he coos far too sweetly. "not enjoying yourself?"

Price is more one for classical punishments, more than happily bending you over his lap and giving you a good, hard spanking to keep you in check. "you're not getting off my lap until you learned your lesson, love." he hums in his gruff voice, mercilessly connecting his hand wirh your ass over and over until its bright red. he's an old fashioned man, naturally this isn't over. has you standing in the corner, tied up and red ass on display as he just eyes you with satisfaction. "you stand there and rethink if you wanna keep breaking rules."

Soap thinks your disobedience is funny. he's not a rules guy, he likes the fight you have in you. always egging you on, almost encouraging the disobedience, even if it's just to see you punished by the others. but don't think he'll just let anything slide, oh no. its all fun and games until you decide to overstep what he's willing to put up with, you know you fucked up when he's suddenly looming over you, holding your chin tightly. "watch that dirty little mouth of yours now, or I'll make sure nothing leaves those bratty lips of yours anytime soon."

Ghost is arguably the worst. he lets you brat away until he's had enough. the worst part is, you can never tell how far you can go, with what you can get away. one day you'll be breaking rules and insulting him and he'll just shrug it off, another day he'll tie you up and fuck the attitude out of you for looking at him funny. you can barely think when his big fingers are inside your mouth, cock stretching your hole. "fucking watch it, brat." he growls lowly, hips working relentlessly. "you're fucking lucky I'm in a good mood.."

[tojipie]

3:30

pt. 2

content: age gap, reader of age as always, dilf toji, nsfw, teasing

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“toji?” you stand in the doorway of the older man’s bedroom, anxiously playing with the hem of your sweater. the suns only barely began to peek through the blinds of the house, shrouding his form in a blanket of semi-darkness.

you anxiously watch the rise and fall of his chest, waiting for a reply. the deep rumble of his breath fills the room as you rethink whether you should bother him on his only day off.

“i missed the bus.” you whisper apologetically, padding to the side of his bed and prodding his buff shoulders with your much smaller hand. “m’sorry.”

the huff the older man let’s out only makes you feel worse as you watch him turn over, pulling the covers over himself and settling deeper into the mattess .

“‘m’sorry toji…” you whine over the lump forming in your throat. the pressure you feel behind your eyes soon gives way to the feeling of watery tears. “i-it’s finals week a-and—“

“you know why i let you live with gumi n’ me pretty girl?” he cuts you off abruptly, eyes still closed as he mumbles into his pillow.

you’re taken aback by the question, unsure whether he wants an actual answer or not.

“cause my parents kicked me out?” you mumble, rubbing the wetness from your eyes with the back of your hand.

“cause i knew you’re not the kind of broad who likes to be a fucking bother.” he states plainly, finally opening a sleep-swollen eye to look back at you with a half grin.

you’re about to apologize again but quickly quiet down and step back once he rises from the covers. toji reaches for the jug of water by his night stand, taking a hearty swing before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. his eyes rake over your form, stopping appreciatively at your bottom half.

“fuck you got on?” he asks, taking another swing of water. the sleazy grin on his face let’s you know he’s just teasing.

“it’s our uniform.” you state plainly, a little embarrassed from the attention. you lean forward and look down at your bare legs, smoothing the creases in your skirt with your hands. “megumi kind of wears the same thing, just with slacks. you’ve seen him.”

“megumi doesn’t roll his little skirt up like a tease, sweet girl.” the older man chuckles, lifting the hem of your sweater to thumb at your double-folded waistband.

“everyone does that.” you mutter, stepping back to hide the way your thighs squeeze together at his whims.

“oh yeah?” toji rises with a groan and passes you without so much as a glance, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his face with a calloused hand.

“get my keys.” he tells you. “fuck... what i gotta take care of you too?”

˚ ✧ ───────────

“thank you for driving me.” you mumble, closing your eyes at the feeling of the warm spring air circulating through the car. toji has the roof down, clad in a black wife beater as he taps the steering wheel to the beat of the song currently booming through the classic vehicle.

“huh?” he leans in, motioning for you to tell him in his ear, clearly unable to hear you over the music.

“wh- thank you for driving me!” you half yell, eyes wandering to the half empty bottles of water that line the floor of his green dodge.

“yeah, you’re good doll.” he tells you, still nodding along to the song. “don’t worry about it.”

you’re thankful to have no onlookers as the two of you pull up to the front of campus. the older man makes no effort to turn down the radio, unlocking the car and lighting a cigarette while you gather your bag from the backseat.

“i’ll pick you up, ok?”

you pause, looking up at him with unease.

“you don’t have to..”

“i want to.” he tells you, blowing smoke to the side with a grin. “i’ll take you for ice cream or something. you like shit like that right?”

you nod, mouth slightly agape at his sudden show of interest. you could do ice cream, in fact you’d love to do ice cream.

“3:30 then?” you ask him, padding over to the door of the driver’s side.

he nods, taking another drag.

“thank you.” you mumble, leaning over to press a sweet kiss to the soft of his cheek, immediately recoiling in embarrassment.

“fuck.” he groans, reaching over to smack the back of your thigh with a calloused hand. smoke trails over his lips when he speaks.

“yeah, 3:30.”

you feel your stomach melt as you watch him drive away. what you don’t see is the ways he snakes one hand down to give his cock a squeeze before turning the radio up further.

[longreads]

Spy vs. Spy is a political cartoon, but it’s not a Political Cartoon. The strip stakes its claim immediately via a single thematic masterstroke—overlaying the blind jingoism and deranged paranoia of Cold War politics onto the endlessly resilient slapstick framework of classic cartoons—and then spends the rest of its existence exploring every facet of that premise by remixing the established formula.

In our latest original feature, Gyasi Hall dives deep into Spy vs. Spy, Antonio Prohías’ iconic MAD Magazine comic strip. Its premise may seem simple, but its revolutionary sensibility has proven impossible to replicate. Click the image (or here) to read the piece.

[venusbyline]

Smart ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 17, oct.

(late post)

�� pairing: Cat Adams x female!reader

— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: gun play + dubcon

— summary: Cat Adams manages to escape from the restaurant and kidnaps you as a way of emotionally torturing the other members of the BAU, especially Spencer Reid.

— word count: 2.2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 17th day, BAU agent!reader, dark!Cat, gun play, dubcon, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, kidnapping, degradation, rape/non-con elements, non-consensual bondage, non-consensual drug use, dry humping, dry orgasm, dacryphilia, crying, sadism, curse words, ambiguous/open ending, implied reader death, Spencer Reid mentioned, Maeve Donovan mentioned, minor Spencer Reid x reader, past Spencer Reid x Maeve Donovan, dom!Cat, sub!reader, canon divergence, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

"I guess I overestimated you, princess..." Cat purred in your ear, her velvety and husky voice tickling the back of your neck as you tried to move away from those red lips. Away from the handcuffs and ropes that kept you trapped on that bed improvised in some abandoned and hidden basement. "To be honest, I expected more when I chose you."

"Let me out. Right now, Cat Adams!" You screamed with all your fury, as if hoping that the echoes could attract the attention of someone passing by, even though your recent entry into the BAU was enough for you to know that no Unsub would be so stupid as to hide somewhere within easy reach. No Unsub would do something stupid like that, much less the smart and manipulative Cat Adams, her cruel smirk pulled from ear to ear when she watched you squirming, trying to free yourself from all the bonds that held you there. So vulnerable and at her mercy.

Your half-naked body arched upwards as you remained with the insistent exasperation, before shouting angrily again, stopping moving when you realized that every movement worsened the discomfort in your skin. You had trained for so long to become a BAU agent, you had trained so much to be prepared for possible kidnappings... And yet no theory or practical test did justice to the true panic of being half-naked in front of your kidnapper, a dangerous killer.

"Why I'm almost naked, Cat? Are you also a rapist now?" The questions came before you could rethink whether they could put you at more risk than you already were. Annoying Cat was not a smart strategy and you knew it.

"I'm not a rapist. And I haven't touched you without your consent while you've been unconscious for the past two days."

Cat's words left a bitter taste inside your mouth. Two days? You were unconscious for two whole days and did not even realize it? What the hell... That did not make any sense. You remembered chasing Cat and suddenly feeling something being jabbed into your neck, but then you could not remember anything else. It was like something or someone had put you in a deep sleep like a fucking Disney princess.

"You drugged me?"

A laugh came from her thick lips, colored by burgundy red lipstick. "That's my good girl. See? It wasn't so hard." She said, running her hand over your face and making you squirm, while you thought of something to curse her with, but could not get past stupid stutters. "It's nothing too intense, I promise. It won't give you an overdose."

You looked at her in disbelief. No matter the amount of dose, she had drugged you and kept you there for two fucking days as if you were the perfect fucking victim for her. A little dog, tied there and receiving a pat on the face, content with so little that it was depressing. "You really drugged me? B-but... Why? You could have just killed me or-"

Cat interrupted you with an obvious answer. "Okay, but where would all the fun be if I did that? If I didn't emotionally torture the BAU team with your kidnapping and make you suffer during the process?" Thinking from the perspective of a crazy psychopath, it was a valid point, but you could not help but keep your eyes wide, the words feeling like daggers in your chest, your confused mind still trying to assimilate the situation. "When I changed the plan to focus on you instead of Doctor Reid, I thought you were more... Smart."

The look on your face as she ran her hand across your neck made her laugh once again. Cat could feel how her breathing quickened, your chest moving up and down, your breasts pressed against your white bra. She saw how dilated your pupils were, despite the mental fatigue and sedative effects of the drugs. "But I still think you can be of great use. From what I gather, Reid's quite shaken due your kidnapping."

You frowned at what she was saying. You did not want to worry Spencer. You did not want to worry your friends. And you knew that was exactly what Cat Adams was causing. Using your ties to your co-workers to probably bargain for her own freedom. Or almost so.

"And what's your plan? Keep me trapped here forever? No one's going to give you what you want, Cat. No matter how hard you try to bargain with my team. You know the law doesn't work like that." You mumbled tiredly, but looking at her with contempt. Cat's sarcastic gaze disappeared for a few seconds, while she took a deep breath, now looking at you with a certain anger.

It was scary to say the least. You took one more look at her. She was still sitting on the free part of the bed, her big eyes analyzing you from top to bottom, just like you were doing too. Even though Cat was wearing a black dress that highlighted her perfect curves, your attention shifted the moment she bent her body to get something from under the bed, close to her.

"You're right... I can't play house with you forever." She scoffed, voice hoarser than before.

Your chains rattled as Cat stood up. If it were not for that disturbing situation, you might have gotten aroused by the sight of her ass in the tight fabric, but you could not think about anything else, you could not do anything other than struggle as you watched Cat place a camera resting on top of the chair that she had used to sit on most of the time she watched you during your sleep over the last few days. "Why are you gonna start recording?"

"Are you scared of me?" Cat said, finally turning to you, the smirk returning when she picked up the gun that was resting on the floor. Stupid fucking question, you thought. But you did not find yourself able to say anything for now. Anything you tried to say would come out more like whimpers or pathetic stutters. You would not be able to utter any decent sentences and looking even more stupid in front of Cat Adams was out of the question. "Don't be so fragile, princess. Where's all your smart ass that I witnessed after I managed to trick the BAU and escape from that restaurant? Where's all that angry screaming when you finally woke up?"

Cat continued, not waiting for an answer. "You look pathetic like this. I don't usually kill women, but you're annoying me... If I had known about that, I would have kidnapped your pretty boyfriend instead of you."

Your eyebrows furrowed, both at the insults and her obvious interest about Spencer. "He's not... He's not my boyfriend." You argued, deciding to add when you noticed Cat's curious face. "Not officially, at least."

Her giggle echoed through the basement. "Good to know. He'll like knowing you specified me that..." She pointed at the camera that was recording the two of you, the angle perfectly catching your vulnerable form tied to the bed. The realization of this made you try to bend your legs to avoid further embarrassment. It was ridiculous that you were shy for the members to see your underwear. You would probably already be dead by the time they could see that recording, it was not like a dead person's dignity was taken into consideration. "He loves you?"

Her question caught you off guard. It was random and invasive. Just no more invasive than the way she sat down next to you on the mattress again, her long fingers playing with the skin of your thigh and the other hand occupied with a gun, sliding it around your waist and giving you goosebumps.

You did not know what to answer. Yes? No? Maybe? Sometimes you thought so, when he was venting to you, letting you stroke his hair after cases, when he brought you coffee to your desk or fucking you hidden in the office...

However, sometimes you also thought not. When he still talked about Maeve all the time, when he distanced himself after a nightmare, when he refused to name how he felt about you...

Spencer was complex as hell. And that was exactly why Cat's question had destroyed you. If she asked you about your feelings for him, you could tell her that you had fallen in love with him at first sight, ever since you joined the BAU team a few months ago. But Cat definitely already knew that too.

"I... I think so. At least I choose to think so." You muttered after a while, finding the strength not to sound as pathetic as you feared.

Cat's gun moved down a little further, finding the front of the fabric of your panties. You did not move at first, trying to ignore the sudden urge to rub yourself against the cold barrel. Your clit was so sore, so...

"So needy." Cat scoffed as she watched how you bit your lip and closed your eyes to deal with the whole situation. "He hasn't fucked you in a few weeks."

You hated how right she was even when she was having fun at your expense, at the expense of your suffering. The answer was right in front of her... the way your thighs shook, your mind wandering between anger and self-loathing, your eyes squeezed shut in a weak attempt to distract yourself and not show her how affected you already were. Cat did not need to ask if she was right. She knew she was. And that was the worst part.

Even if you did not want to admit it, your body was needy. Ever since you and Spencer got into an argument before he went to the restaurant undercover as a potential customer and to try capture Cat Adams. It was supposed to be the perfect plan, but Spencer was so deep in thought about you and your stupid argument that he could not focus on the case. He could not focus on the Unsub in front of him. Cat had messed with his mind as well as yours. She had already found out enough about the BAU to know that there was something going on between you and the other agent. Knowing that Spencer would move mountains to try to find you, even if it was too late.

He could not lose you like he had lost Maeve. He could not go through all this again. He would not take it. Not after being so cruel with you.

"Why did you guys fight?" Cat increased the pressure of the barrel against your clit, making your back adjust upwards with an almost desperate cry when she suddenly changed the circular movements to movements from top to bottom, the chosen rhythm being a little more intense than the previous one.

You could lie. Make up any excuse, any fake outburst to avoid letting her know so much about you or your situationship with Spencer. But what would be the point? You were already having your first and last dance with the Devil. If you were going to die at the hands of Cat Adams, what mattered least was whether or not she would know your vulnerabilities. Nothing mattered anymore, she was going to kill you anyway, even if you confessed or not.

"Maeve." The name of Spencer's ex-girlfriend caused an instant chuckle from Cat. It was obvious. It was obvious that she would find this funny. She remembered Spencer telling her about the woman's murder. "He... He said he wished-" You cut yourself off as Cat slid the fabric of your panties down, the cold air of the room hitting your core before she went back to stroking the swollen bud, another giggle echoing between the walls when she heard the moan coming from your lips after she lowered the gun to your hole, not enough to fuck you completely. She was just teasing your wet pussy.

"What did he say he wished?" The question came in a mocking tone, her mouth moving down to your neck, leaving you with purple hickey marks and the red stains caused by her lipstick.

"Spencer said he wished he could trade my life for Maeve's. He would rather I die if it meant Maeve could come back."

Cat was silent for a while, despite raising the object until it was on top of your clit again, rubbing the gun against your pussy as new thoughts invaded her mind. Your moans became louder and more desperate, your back writhing and your legs shaking when you moaned in the most tearful, needy way she had heard in her entire life. No one had ever sounded like this before, so hungry for any touch that could distract you from the reality of what was happening. That you were kidnapped by Cat Adams and might not have long to live.

While your body contorted with Cat's kisses moving up from your neck to your jaw, you finally turned your face to look into her eyes, seeing her pupils dilated, her gaze now cold. Not with you, you could feel it. She did not seem that much crueler than before, at least not directly towards you. As if a switch had turned in her mind for some reason. "He'll regret his words, princess. Don't worry." Her free hand caressed your cheeks and an almost soft smile appeared. "I promise I'll make sure your death haunts Spencer until the end of his days."

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[croquis-el]

Mitsurugi's chess set as a metaphor for his relationship with Naruhodō

We all know about the famous blue and red chess set that was custom-made for Mitsurugi.

And we all know about the single blue pawn surrounded by knights with swords. In the original, this comparison is more poetic than in the adaptation (the knights hold tsurugi 剣 - like in Mitsurugi's family name 御剣, and the pawn 歩 (ho) is blue - like in Naruhodō's family name 成歩堂)

剣 (ken, tsurugi) - doubled-edged sword

歩 (fu, ho) - pawn (chess), step, infantry

“naito” wa “ken/tsurugi o motta kishi”

“pōn” wa “hohei” desu.

"Knight" is "knight with sword (tsurugi)"

"Pawn" is "foot soldier/infantry".

akai “tsurugi” ga, aoi “ho” o oitsumete iru

The red "sword" is chasing the blue "step"...

In the original, there is no pawn with spikes. This was made up to adapt the play on words. Unsurprisingly, Naruhodō says that this could be just his imagination, and he doesn't see anything special in it.

(ki no seida yo na, kitto)

(I'm sure it's just my imagination)

The only time we see a chess set in the trilogy is in Case 1-5 (Rise from the Ashes) - February 2017

The next time we get a chance to look at Mitsurugi's office is in Investigations, and this is already March 2019.

What happened in the time period from February 2017 to March 2019, unsurprisingly, affected Mitsurugi and his personal belongings. But what is this! The chess set with blue and red pieces disappears from the office, and white and red pieces take its place.

Where did that set go?

It became a travel set.

And it can be seen next to Mitsurugi's passenger seat in the case 1-2 (Turnabout Airlines). At the same time, Mitsurugi continues to convince us and those around him that there is nothing strange about the fact that there are too many knights and one pawn on the chessboard. It is difficult to refuse competition between the attorney and the prosecutor. We'll take your word for it, buddy.

Years later, in 2027, when we are shown the office of the head of the prosecutor's office Mitsurugi, we can see his chessboard again. Now there are no recreated chess puzzles on it. Only carefully placed pieces of red and white.

And now about how chess literally reflects the relationship between these two.

While Mitsurugi at first sees Naruhodō as an opponent, as a rival, and tries to predict his thoughts and actions using tactics like in chess, Naruhodō himself doesn't believe that they're on different sides of the barricades. Therefore, he doesn't react in any way to the alleged "hints" about their rivalry. For him, he is an ally, not an opposing side.

Then Mitsurugi changes his mind about the role of the prosecutor in the trial, and realizes that it is necessary to cooperate with other lawyers in order to achieve the truth. Since then, the blue and red set probably disappears from the office, from the eyes of others. There is no urgent need for it.

And then harmony comes. Carefully placed figures. No crazy number of knights with tsurugi. Simple classics. Childhood rivalry is forgotten, now the person whose thoughts you had to predict, calculate options to always be one step ahead - a dear and reliable friend, whom you understand at a half-word, for whose sake you will pull all strings, put a reliable shoulder to support when he needs it. If Naruhodō initially doesn't see Mitsurugi as his rival (and this is not because of bragging or pride), then he comes to the same understanding a little later, completely rethinking his attitude towards the people around him.

P.S.

Here I am only touching on the strong and dear friendly relations between them, please do not invent anything beyond what is written. (even though I myself love narumitsu tenderly).

English is not my first language, and I use dictionaries for Japanese words - so feel free to point out my mistakes.

[stxneflxwers]

duckies.

⋯⁂ summary. you seem to have found a kindred soul over loving rubber ducks.

⋯⁂ a/n. short and sweet, barely edited, etc. just rubber duckie bonding time! i have a very small collection of my own, so this felt partially warranted to write hehe.

⋯⁂ characters. dr ratio. gn reader.

⋯⁂ cw. fluff...? yeah sure whatever it's just fluff. ratio is a cw of his own. reader works at the intellgentsia guild.

dr. ratio.

💫 he visited your office once – once – only to find you nowhere in the room, but also spotting a rather fashionable-looking yellow rubber duck on your desk... it's dressed in a black and white tuxedo with a little bowtie and top hat.

💫 and, needless to say, he didn't stop himself from picking up the duck and observing it up close. he presses it between two fingers, forcing an airy squeak from it. his eyes narrow further into dangerous slits while he hums in contemplation – he was entirely unaware of your shared adoration for rubber ducks.

💫 although, he can't say he's one for various designs – the simple, classic yellow one is enough to satisfy him. but now he finds himself rethinking that. maybe he could get more... but where would he even purchase ones with such blatantly silly designs?

💫 and then you scare the living hell out of him by entering the room – he gasps and visibly jumps in surprise, the duck tossed between his hands before getting safely caught between both his large hands.

"...hi, veritas." you snicker, "do you like my duck?"

"you–" he sputters, slamming the rubber duck back down on your desk and quickly crossing his arms, but the blush that permeates on his cheeks is undeniable. "i was merely observing."

"a rubber duck? you didn't strike me as the type to have interest in rubber ducks." you grin. "but, anyway, i'm not here to shame you over our adoration for the cute little duckies!" he glares at you, "i have more at home! they're fun to collect."

"...you collect them." he says, sounding more like a statement than an inquiry.

"yup." you nod firmly, "should i...maybe commission one that looks just like you~? mind if i take a picture–" you howl with laughter when he storms out of your office with the reddest blush you've ever seen on his face – if you didn't know better, you would've asked if he has a fever.

how adorable.

and now you're sure you can find a staff identification picture to use to your advantage...

[harmonysanreads]

I need a neuvillette dragon courting us but we don't notice till he's all sad cause he thought we was purposely ignoring his courting attempts😩😩🙌🙌🥲

Out of curiosity, I googled 'dragon courting rituals' but unfortunately, I didn't find anything unique or remarkable there. However, it is my theory that "dragon courting" in Neuvillette's case, will contain some traditions that will appear rather strange to humans. Reinforced by Neuvillette's voice line on vishaps:

This gets progressively funnier depending on which ‘era’ of Neuvillette you're in.

My personal favorite is freshly reincarnated Neuvillette, equiped with the emotional intelligence of a pebble and a teaspoon of understanding of the human world. He's confused about his predicament as he is and then the world throws this.. creature he feels the need to keep close in his life as if to screw him up some more. He observes you an unhealthy amount, yes, but, cannot make sense of the majority of what he sees. His memory is fragmented as well so he only recalls some things from his previous life. It takes more time than it should for him to accept that no, dropping freshly hunted animals or the mutilated remains of your enemies at your feet won't succeed in making you less afraid of him. He then opts for crystals, ores, gold—you know, the shiny things but, even those fail to make you rethink him as anything other than a monster. You can deny him for only a limited time as well because, in this stage of his life, he's the least patient. As the desires of his new form fester, he becomes more lenient towards brute methods.

His rough edges smoothen over the course of his time as Iudex. He at least, recognizes that courting in the human society puts consideration on matters such as mutual respect, compatibility, consent etc. and tries to follow decorum. While he isn't the most suave gentleman who'll effortlessly sweep you off your feet yet, he's not borderline savage at least.

Present Neuvillette on the other hand, is much more careful and does thorough research before making a move. If he's 100% okay with the repercussions that'll follow, he doesn't even need to rely on grand gestures to send the message to the public. His presence or, his name alone is sufficient to mark you. All he needs to do is talk to you in a certain way and in a consistent manner for Fontaine to eat it up. It may not be clear to you, but, it's obvious to everyone else and that's enough to eliminate the majority of competition. He'll still do some of the classic courting stuff like gift giving and (in his case) sampling water together. The insistence on being subtle might just become his undoing though, especially if you're equally oblivious.

[sandplague]

(i'll just copy & paste the text here)

Pathologic 3 FAQ #1

Answers to frequently asked questions and a few hints about what’s coming next!

Hey hey!

Very soon, we’ll be sharing the first details about the game, starting with the soundtrack: on November 4th, we’re taking part in Save and Sound, an annual event dedicated to sound design and soundtracks in video games.

We know the wait has been long, and we want to thank you for the warm reception of the announcement. Today, we’d like to clarify a few points that we often see coming up in community discussions about the Pathologic 3 announcement.

So, let’s get started!

Q: What happened to the route for Pathologic 2? Has it evolved into a sequel?

A: Yes, that’s exactly what happened: the game simply grew beyond our concept of DLC—it will have different gameplay and entirely new features. Instead of one game with three playthroughs using the same gameplay but different storylines (as in the original 2005 release and the Classic HD remaster), we’re creating three fully developed games with distinct gameplay and significant differences in narrative.

Now, these are truly three separate protagonists with unique worldviews, perceptions of reality, and distinct tools. From a gameplay perspective, this means three different approaches and a complete rethinking of the original scripts.

One storyline was released in 2019, centered on the Haruspex. It was a large game that took much more time and work than initially planned. For publishing reasons, it was titled Pathologic 2.

Pathologic 3 is a new, full-fledged game focused on the Bachelor. The title was chosen to avoid confusion, making it clear that this is not a DLC but a complete game with a similar playtime.

Q: What about the Changeling?

A: Finally, there’s the Changeling, but we’d prefer not to make promises prematurely, so we’ll return to her when there’s more to share.

Moving forward, we plan to stick to this approach. We understand that premature promises about the previous Pathologic led to unfulfilled expectations. We apologize for that and don’t want to mislead you in the future. The developer should not be an unreliable narrator—unlike his characters.

Q: How do Pathologic 2 and Pathologic 3 differ?

A: The protagonists! And that’s only half-joking. The main idea and reason for dividing these games is that the Haruspex and the Bachelor are very different characters. The further we developed the Bachelor’s story, the clearer this became. We didn’t want to compromise by making the game a “safer” rework of the original script, so we reimagined the core gameplay loop:

The Haruspex needed to survive, fight, scavenge, rummage through garbage for scraps of bread, and try to save those he held dear along the way. The Bachelor is a man of intellect. Survival is not his primary concern; his goals go beyond what one lifetime could contain. He needs to think, formulate theories, and gather evidence. Ultimately, he must issue commands and observe the results. This distinction will be emphasized through gameplay, mechanics, objectives, soundtrack, and so on.

After Save and Sound, we plan to return later this year to show you what we mean. As they say, "Show, don’t tell."

Q: Who will receive game keys?

A: We remember our commitments to those who supported us during the fundraising stage nearly ten years ago, so we will provide keys to:

Kickstarter backers and other platforms where support for the game was available during the fundraising stage

Backers from 2014 and 2015

Also, backers entitled to two copies will receive two keys. We’ll share details on how to claim keys closer to release.

Q: Will the new game have its own artbook?

A: At the moment, we’re not planning a physical one, but we might create a digital artbook for the Supporter Pack. We're not sure yet!

Q: Which languages will the game be localized into, including text and voice-over?

A: We definitely plan to localize into English and Russian, and we’re considering Brazilian Portuguese, German, and Simplified Chinese. We’ll confirm languages closer to launch.

Q: Will the Russian title of Pathologic 3 remain?

A: Yes, we’re still considering options. Current ideas include “Finally,” “See, You Didn’t Believe Us,” and “Sorry for the Long Wait.”

Q: Will the game be available on GOG and other stores?

A: We’ll know closer to release, but it’ll likely be available on all platforms where Pathologic 2 can be found.

Q: Will preorders be available?

A: No.

Q: What platforms other than PC are planned for release?

A: We’re planning releases for PS5 and Xbox S/X, likely following the PC release.

Q: What engine is the game being developed in?

A: The same engine as Pathologic 2: Unity.

Q: Will the same voice actors return for Pathologic 3?

A: Yes, we’ll bring back the same actors from Pathologic 2, or at least, we’ll do our best.

We’ve prepared a big surprise for you in the coming months, so please add us to your Steam wishlist!

Until then, we’ll see you on November 4th!

[risesthenight]

Aro vs Ace

As someone who’s aroace i’ve noticed a very clear cultural distinction between people who are just ace and people who are aroace. One of the most commonly used phrases i’ve seen in the ace community is the classic “we’re still human, we still feel love” excuse. A phrase that throws every aromantic individual under the bus when certain aces try to defend their orientations to straight people.

If you grew up aroace, or just aromantic, you’ve most likely felt broken. Surrounded by love being broadcasted as a milestone, and forced upon everyone with romcoms , true loves kisses, and “there’s someone for everyone” type phrases. If you grew up ace, you felt broken too. Surrounded by first times, the purity of virginity, and the fantasies that everyone seemed to have. However, people are more likely to be accepting of aces, because they see it as a choice to stay celibate. While that’s not true, they have something to lean back on, something pre-existing that allows their “choice” to be accepted. But when people hear of someone who doesn’t experience love? That is much less likely to be accepted. You will be told that you are broken. You will still be believed to have made this as a choice, and people will try to convince you to rethink the decision. There is nothing to lean back on, because the idea of being loveless, will always going with being heartless. You’re suddenly a monster, you are not pure.

Over the past few years, asexual has becoming a growing label in the community. Asexual characters appear all over media, it’s actually a much more common label now. There is still discrimination, there is still hate, but there is more acceptance than there has ever been before. Aros are at a point where they’re still more likely to be shunned for their lack of attraction, all while watching their Ace friends be accepted. Because at least they still love, right? They’re not completely broken, unlike them. Because love is love. The very phrase that isolates us from the community. If love is love, where the hell do we go? What if there is no love?

For this reason, I always resonated more with the aromantic part of aroace. Whenever I scroll the ace tag, or talk with ace people, I’m still finding myself being outcasted, feeling as if the label shouldn’t even apply to me. To scroll the aro tag, I feel much more at home. They don’t hold messages with cruel undertones, there is no undermining of ace identities, just an embrace of our collective independence.

I’m aroace, but I hardly feel ace.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

korra fluff 🥹🥹 i love my girl so much😔

Dining with the Rich

|| Avatar Korra x fem!reader

|| Warnings: none, just pure fluff

|| Summary: Korra finds reader hanging out by the park river and offers to take her on a nice date, it's been a while since they had the chance to.

Requests open!

~~~

It was a peaceful day in Republic City.

You'd been enjoying your morning, laying by the park river and looking towards the sky with your arms folded behind your head. Feeling relaxed and at peace for the first time in a while. Being the Avatar's girlfriend meant you were always caught up in some chaos or drama that didn't originally involve you... but you somehow get dragged into anyway.

That's when you hear the sound of a familiar voice calling your name, propping yourself up on your elbows you turn your head and see Avatar Korra. Giving you that classic smile of hers you've come to love. A soft blush forms on your cheeks and you smile back as she waves at you, joining you by the river and sitting down beside you. Planting a soft kiss to your lips.

"Hey, you." She rests her hand on your knee," What're you doing out here? I've been looking for you all morning."

You lean your head on her shoulder, resting against her side and taking in her warmth.

"Enjoying the weather. You said you've been looking for you?" You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that. Was your peace really going to be interrupted by more Avatar duties again?

"Yeah, I've been thinking... it's been a while since we went on a proper date, unless you count fighting villains as a date?" Korra jokes, you roll your eyes and suppress a laugh.

"Absolutely not."

"Didn't think so." Korra gives you a playful nudge, which manages to get that laugh out of you. She smiles," Asami mentioned a nice restaurant that opened up recently and offered to get us a reservation. If you're interested."

"Oh, definitely. I'm not missing out on free rich people food." You smile back and Korra laughs this time, draping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close to her side.

"How about tonight, then?" She looks at you and you nod.

~~~

A few hours later, you were getting ready for your date. In absolute state of panic trying to make sure you presented yourself perfectly.

Jinora walked past your door (you have a room in the Air Temple) then stopped and back tracked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Why are you so freaked out?" She asks, you jump and turn to look at her. Having been startled by her sudden appearance.

"I have a date with Korra tonight and I need to look perfect. Asami got us a reservation at some fancy rich restaurant." You explain, your hands making frantic gestures.

Jinora stifles a laugh and walks into your room, arms folded across her chest as she tilts her head at you.

"Korra's not going to care what you wear. I mean, have you seen the way she dresses?" Jinora reminds you, you glance at yourself in your body mirror. Looking over your features.

You'd thrown together a quick outfit. A nice black velvet sleeveless t (which showed a bit of cleavage). Paired with velvet black dress pants. It was the nicest thing you owned and you had saved an embarrassing amount of money just to get it.

"I know but the place is like- super fancy-" You stutter out, rethinking your choice as you bite down on your thumb nail.

Jinora rolls her eyes.

"If you aren't going to listen to my advice you're hopeless." She leaves you to fend for yourself, not wanting to deal with you if you won't even listen to her advice.

~~~

After another hour of fussing, you finally decide you were at least presentable. Taking a breath, you stepped out of your room and headed down the hall. Why was this all still scary? You and Korra have been on a number of dates. This one shouldn't be any different.

But it was.

Because you'd be dining with rich people. God, you just realized you didn't even know proper table manners. Like, yeah you knew how to behave yourself at a table but not rich people level.

Though you quickly relaxed remembering Korra was in the same boat as you. Even if she was the Avatar, her manners... could use a little work.

You made it to the first level of the Temple, Korra standing by the front door and waiting for you. Styled similarly to how she was during the last scene of the finale episode.

I couldn't find any decent pictures.

She noticed you and smiled, taking in your appearance with a soft blush on her cheeks.

"You look... wow. Now I feel underdressed." She looks down at her own outfit and you can't help but laugh, smiling and taking her hand in yours.

"You look perfect." You assure her, a blush on your cheeks matching the one on Korra's.

Korra gives you a soft kiss, though you don't let her pull away and instead continue it for a moment. Your lips moving against each others in soft, rhythmic motions before your lips finally part. Separated by a mere inch or so as you looked into each other's eyes.

Your hand squeezed hers and she leads you out of the Temple, heading to your date spot.

The rest of the night flows smoothly. The two of you enjoying your meals, having conversation after conversation. Talking about anything and everything from latest bending techniques to latest interests. The hours tick by and you haven't even realized how long it's been. Just enjoying have a night off to be with each other.

It was nice focusing on your relationship rather than the world.