#someone please tell me they're different in every source
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yk writing fun little fics about you and your friends being in the star trek universe is all well and good until you're sitting awake at midnight closely inspecting photos and videos of john de lancie's face because you cannot for the life of you tell what colour his fucking eyes are and you need it for literally one sentence in a character description
#someone please tell me they're different in every source#those weird celeb info sites say dark brown and it's like huh????#saw one that said blue too and that's not it either#they're like blue hazel???#but also a bit green?????#do I just go the mysterious route and say that it was impossible to pin down but his gaze had a dark aura or some shit#I'm going for ominous here#john de lancie#star trek tng#star trek q#q star trek
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Truly, my sympathies to people watching IWTV and are getting tired/bored of different perspectives. I'm not bored or even remotely tired.
Interviews by their very nature are perspective based. The story has this specific framing. As did the first book. They added to it with Armand now being an active participant and Daniel being more seasoned at interviewing. I understand how Armand's very edited and hyperbolic take on events that Book Lestat describes in The Vampire Lestat rubs people the wrong way. I do think that one could argue the way Lestat writes his own autobiography is the objective truth (note Armand in his book does not contradict Lestat). However, sorry to say, there is never an objective truth. The truth is always subjective.
I was raised by a whole family of lawyers and if I learned anything is that you can spin things in any way, but an objective truth will never exist. Not in crime, not in person to person storytelling, not in fictional storytelling. Hell, viewers seeing the SAME show CANNOT come to a consensus. Why? Because we all put our thoughts, experiences, and feelings to it. That's all perspective.
We see Louis give Armand a kiss in bed. Some think aw domestic and cute. Some think Louis is deliberately withholding and rewarding Armand for good behaviour. Some saw the act they put on in E2 as some version of truth and domesticity and some think it's only an act. Some think Dreamstat is actual Lestat out there somewhere and some think it's Louis' conscience.
Yes, the narrative will confirm one thought or another on some things but not all of them. They're deliberately left up to interpretation. Something btw, Lestat urges the reader to do in TVL when he does not go into details about his time with Louis and Claudia. And part of that has to do with perspective.
We could have a straightforward narrative with no corrections and no perspectives. But would that be as interesting as seeing how minds that far exceed our own twist and bend and interpret events? Would it be as interesting as seeing a vampire who tells himself a story so that he can carry on living despite being miserable? Would it be as interesting as this vampire who tells himself a story get pushback on what he's saying by someone who notices errors and inconsistencies? Would it be an interview at all? Or would it be, as Daniel put it in the very first episode, "a fever dream told to an idiot."
If you want a straightforward non-challenging version of the story, the 1994 movie exists. It's not perfect and a lot of details are missing, but there's only one, unchallenged perspective to it. And even then...how many people didn't (want to) see the queerness in it?
TL;DR I get being frustrated or tired or bored by the way the show is trying to tell the story, but at least it's doing something a little different and not word for word.
#interview with the vampire#amc iwtv#it doesn't have to be everyone's cup of tea#i just find it really interesting that a bunch of people want a more basic form of storytelling#i don't agree with every choice made but they're doing something different and i appreciate it#and i don't mean different as in revolutionary#i mean different for this specific source#and even then#marius tells his own story#pandora tells hers#armand tells his#daniel tells a very specific part of his life to lestat#as does jesse#maharet tells us the origins of akasha and that's written down as fucking mental hearsay because lestat wasn't there when she told the stor#like i get that yeah it's lestat's story etc but there's other stories too and who tells them is always additionally fascinating#because i say tell their story but a lot is narrated to someone else#please don't flame me this is just my opinion#i know im probably in the minority
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cherry bomb | jungkook (m)
pairing: jungkook x fem reader
summary: “get fucked or die” becomes the motto to live by when a serial killer begins targeting virgins on your campus.
genre: smut, horror/slasher, college!au
word count: 7.1k
warnings: multiple minor character deaths, blood, gore, violence (including gun and knife use), mentions of alcohol consumption. virgin-shaming and slut-shaming, oral (fem receiving), riding, virgin!reader, first-time sex, protected sex, hair-pulling, biting, fingering, dirty talk, virgin kink/corruption kink, fuckboy JK. is JK a sub or a masochist here? answer: i don’t fucking know!
a/n: inspired by the movie cherry falls (2000). heed the warnings. remember that this is fiction, not meant to be entirely realistic, and characters' views/actions don't represent my own. if this kind of content is not up your alley just block me or make use of the wonderful filtering option in your account settings
sources for the fic dividers: one | two
link to part 2
CHERRY BOMB
don't wanna die? come out and hook up with a sexy girl or guy.
virgins get in free!
THIS FRIDAY
NOV 3, 20XX
[address here]
"very corny." you shake your head, looking at the party flyer in your hands. you'd just torn it down from the bulletin board in your dorm lobby; unauthorized advertisements aren’t allowed, and your job as RA involves these menial-ass tasks. "this is literally life or death...why are they turning it into a joke?"
"it is a joke," your friend camille says, snatching the flyer out of your hands to look it over. "think about it. 10 students get killed since we came back in august, and the semester isn't even over yet. the school administration and local police haven't done nearly enough to address it or stop any more deaths. and the common denominator is that all these people were suspected or confirmed virgins?” you haven’t seen the evidence yourself, but the daughter of one of the local policemen claimed every victim also had virgin carved into some part of their dead body. “yeah, i'd say it's a joke to pretty much everyone at this point. this is what happens when you let the students come up with a solution."
camille hands the flyer back to you, and you hold it limply. "but...it's not like you can look at someone and tell if they're a virgin. the killer must've known them all personally. it just doesn't make sense."
"some of those people had no mutual friends. nothing connecting them whatsoever. not even shared extracurriculars. it's gotta be a perverted stalker with a fetish, maybe. a scorned hacker who somehow got into their private conversations 'n' shit? or maybe he consulted the cards to know who’d fucked before and who hadn’t.”
“oh please.” you scoff. “now you’re being completely ridiculous. tarot cards aren’t gonna tell you if someone’s a virgin or not.”
“then you come up with a better explanation. either way, these folks—" camille points to the flyer "—aren't taking their chances."
"hm..." you keep staring at the flyer, looking at the shiny-red cherries, condoms, sex toys, and other sex-related objects decorating the paper. whoever designed this really wasn't playing.
"so, are you gonna go?" camille asks with a sidelong glance. "free admittance, after all."
your neck burns under the collar of your shirt. "are you?" neither of you have had sex yet, for differing reasons. camille's reason was almost complete indifference to the whole act.
she gives you a look that says i could give a shit. "...you know the answer to that one, dear. so you're not even thinking about it? as much as you have cried to me and lorelai about not being able to find a man you like enough to give it up for, our killer here probably already knows. you practically have a ‘come kill me’ bullseye on your back.”
"i don't know," you say, because you genuinely are thinking about it. “and stop trying to fucking scare me.” despite your logical brain trying to reason with you, you still feel a sense of underlying terror about being the next victim. "the virgin killer," as they'd nicknamed the freak, clearly prefers a specific type of victim, and all kills have been random and unpredictable other than that—and the fact that every victim attended your university. he also seems partial to using a knife on his victims, but even that isn’t guaranteed—3 of the 10 had been killed in ways other than stabbing. "i don’t know why you’re so nonchalant about this, though."
camille shrugs. "if he comes for me, i'll just spray him with my illegal mace and kick his nuts into his throat. then tie him up and wait for my dad to come blow his head off. there are some advantages to having a gun nut for a dad."
you chuckle at the absurdity of it. "you've got it all planned out, then."
--
FRIDAY, NOV 3
taking a rideshare to the party was a smart idea on lorelai's part, because the two little shots you took to pre-game already have you feeling woozy. or maybe it's just your nerves.
the cherry bomb is located at a mansion that isn’t really a mansion, but a large once-abandoned house one of the fraternities fixed up years ago for throwing off-campus parties.
the party is stacked wall to wall with people when you enter, though from what you can see, no one has actually started fucking yet—maybe they're saving that for the supposed orgy later in the night. you just hope you can get someone in one of the backrooms before that happens, because you're not really keen on having everyone in your class knowing what your tits look like.
you have one simple mission here tonight—lose your long-held virginity and get off the virgin killer's radar. once that's done, you'll make your exit.
"actually, i'm surprised anyone else showed up. other than you, who wants to willingly admit that they're still a virgin in college?" lorelai shudders. you roll your eyes and try not to feel offended, sucking your teeth.
"you were more than welcome to stay back at the dorm."
"no! i'm here for moral support, plus i don't want to be alone tonight. i don't care who this killer targets, it's getting too crazy out here to just be letting your guard down anymore."
well, you won't argue that.
you and lorelai dance to the song booming over the multiple speakers, scanning the room for potential hookups all the while. you become more alert when you recognize a familiar length of black hair coming through the front door, plus the tattoos and piercings to match.
you're not surprised jungkook came. he has his pick of untouched and easily corruptible virgins here, which has always been his thing; you've heard him brag about it to his seatmates more than once in your shared elective. not to mention the stories you've heard from the women who actually fucked him. as far as you could figure, it was the usual male ego posturing bullshit about being able to say he was someone’s first—and likely best. for that reason, alarm rises when he makes eye contact and starts making a beeline for where you and lorelai are.
"oh, here comes the campus bicycle," lorelai says, voice deadpan.
you continue watching him from the corner of your eye, trying to see if he's just approaching someone in your general vicinity, but no. once he shoves his way through the crowd of dancers, some unashamedly groping at his body as he does, he stops right in front of you two.
"so, are you here for the same reason i am?" he asks you, grinning like the devil himself. "or are you looking to get that sweet little cherry popped?"
the backs of your knees sweat. "um—latter, i guess." you hadn't meant to answer that honestly, but to say you are caught off-guard is understating it. you can count on one hand the number of times you and jungkook have talked to each other in class, and never about anything of this nature.
"you're not gonna ask me?" lorelai says.
jungkook gives a hearty laugh; you didn't think it was that funny. "everyone knows you're not a virgin, why waste my time?"
"wow, okay. fuck you. you're no saint yourself." she huffs.
"anyway…" jungkook returns his attention to you. "have you really never done anything before? not even sucked a dick? there's no way someone hasn't tried to hit that. not even some 'backdoor action only' like those weird religious girls?"
"is that any of your business? i didn't know we had to give a rundown of our lack of sexual experience before getting laid around here." you snap.
jungkook's eyelids lower a fraction. "i'm tryna decide how easy i should go on you, babe. i mean, if you wanna take this in one of the rooms. otherwise, i'll let someone else have a go if you're not interested."
unfortunately, you are interested, despite his overly blunt manner and objectifying language. even though you know you’ll just become another entry on his long list of flings—someone he’ll tell his boys about later—maybe the fear of death is making you impulsive.
but maybe his looks are playing a part in it, too.
he's imposing with his physique and his all-black attire, his shirt so tight that you can clearly see his pectoral muscles and his nipples, his unbuttoned leather jacket doing nothing to hide those details. you can easily imagine yourself running your hands across those pecs, squeezing them, rubbing your fingers against his nipples and making him moan underneath you, feeling and seeing his abs contract through this stupid-ass shirt that must've been painted on. this brief fantasy immediately dampens your panties.
"…i'm interested," you affirm, dragging your gaze back up to his eyes, and he smirks from knowing you were obviously checking him out.
knowing the direction this is going in, lorelai taps you on the back and whispers in your ear. “have fun but don’t do anything stupid, yeah? i’m not playing auntie to any offspring you and this dude pop out, sis. use protection.” then she makes her exit to go find herself a partner for the night.
“so, come on.” jungkook nods his head in the direction of the stairs, and you follow him through the crowd as he leads you up the winding staircase. you squeeze past two girls kissing on the staircase railing, their motions a bit unsure as if they’ve never done it before but clearly still enjoying themselves.
jungkook pushes a few doors in until he finds an empty room, and you try not to ogle at the random couples you see along the way. not even an hour in and the two shots must be wearing off, because your body is beginning to buzz with nervousness again.
jungkook closes the door behind him when you both step into the room, which is lit by one lamp on a nightstand and the open window beside the bed. he reaches for you, and you shiver when his hand grasps the side of your face, the other snaking around your waist.
“scared?” he asks, his voice low. you shake your head, and he grins. “relax.” he leans in as if to kiss you and you part your lips, but he doesn’t do that just yet. he traces your top lip and then your bottom lip with his tongue, dipping it into your mouth as he switches. the teasing nature of his actions makes your body heat up as you watch a string of saliva spread and then break between the both of you.
he presses back in for a real kiss this time, his nose bumping yours. despite all your fears about tonight, you’re able to unwind somewhat and just focus on the full sensory experience that is this kiss—the warmth of his hands and his mouth, the sappy sound your lips make when they separate and come back together, the scent of his cologne, the taste of his spearmint-flavored tongue.
you find yourselves inching toward the bed, him walking you backwards while keeping you steady. just as the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, there's the sound of a woman's bloodcurdling scream from behind you, and you nearly shove jungkook to the ground in your haste to run to the door. your fingers are scrabbling at the doorknob when you hear a burst of laughter. a guy you don't recognize crawls out from under the bed holding his phone up, displaying a youtube video of the shower scene in the movie psycho, which is where the noise is coming from.
"that was funny as fuck." the guy laughs obnoxiously loud, holding his stomach. “don’t get too carefree or you just might die, girlie.”
jungkook grabs the guy by his jacket collar like he's a kid and throws him out the door; the guy doesn't object because he knows this is preferable to getting his ass beaten by the bigger man. "fuck outta here, you jackass." jungkook snaps.
jungkook stomps over to the closet to yank it open. "any more idiots in here wanna show themselves?" he checks a couple more areas before deciding the room is clear and closing the door again, locking it for good measure.
“okay.” he sighs, stripping off his jacket and shoes. he takes your hand and pulls you toward him as he sits on the bed. “relax, baby. forget about that fucking clown. come ‘ere. why don’t you sit on my lap?”
with a heavy exhale, you try to steady your still-shaking hands as you shuck your boots off and pull your dress up slightly to comfortably sit in his lap, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist.
he squeezes your waist. “so, where were we? i don’t really remember…”
you huff out a half-amused laugh. “really? i’m pretty sure it was this…” you lean forward with your hands on his shoulders and press your lips back onto his. jungkook follows in kind, his hands running up from your thighs to your waist and back again. the rhythm of his hands is hypnotic, distracting you as you try to keep most of your focus on the kiss, and you fear you may be getting overstimulated before anything has truly began.
as you continue kissing, jungkook’s hands creep your dress further up your thighs until your panties are revealed. still feeling up your legs, his hands press further toward your inner thighs, and you gasp into the kiss when his thumb pushes against the seat of your underwear. they have been damp for a while now and you know he knows this, so you aren’t surprised when he breaks the kiss to smirk, though it makes you roll your eyes.
jungkook whispers against your lips, “let’s try something. will you sit on my face?” you stare at him without a word, not expecting this to be the first thing he proposes. at your response, or lack of, he adds, “i want to make you feel good. do you want me to taste you?” his voice is so soft, so unassuming and cloying, that it makes you feel like a lamb clutched gently in the mouth of a wolf.
your brain is already surrendering to it. “yes.”
you get another kiss and a smile. jungkook moves you out of his lap, shuffles further up the bed, and lies down so that he’s flat on his back, his head surrounded by the pillows. he gestures for you to follow.
taking your time, you slide your panties off and crawl up the bed until you’re near his face and he’s lying below you looking like he’s struck gold. he grabs your hips to bring you closer until you’re right over his mouth. you’re embarrassed to have someone looking at you from this angle for the first time, and you’re about to get too into your head about it when he french kisses your inner thigh, blanking out your mind.
the only thing you know from then on is that his mouth is burning hot. his tongue is everywhere. he licks at you delicately to test the waters, and then more firmly when your thighs tremble around his head, in an effort to elicit the same response.
the way he fits his mouth over your entire pussy and sucks it with just the right amount of pressure so that it won’t hurt makes you feel faint. the way he slides the flat of his tongue over your clit only to suck it gently at the end of the stroke makes you cry out louder than you intended. you’re glad he moved further up the bed for this, because you’re holding onto the headboard for dear life.
the only things you’re aware of are your own out-of-control moans and the wet sounds of jungkook’s mouth working you over. all of it has you so overwrought that you’re already reaching your peak, your grip on the headboard weakening.
jungkook seems to know this without you telling him anything. he pauses and looks up at you with a fucked-out smirk and a wet mouth. you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for giving you a break. “before you come, fuck my face.”
“wh-what?”
“rub that wet fucking cunt on my face.” heat flares through your body at his frank words. “grab my hair and just ride my face.” he reaches up to take your hands off the headboard and places them in his hair. “you can do it, baby. fucking use me.”
it takes you a minute to get over the fresh wave of embarrassment and find a pace that works, because the connection between your brain and body feels like it’s frying and your coordination is off. jungkook helps guide your hips, especially with how you’re trembling from pleasure and close to falling apart. soon enough, you’re letting go of yourself and moving your hips enthusiastically, if a little clumsily, and chasing your climax. you savor the feel of your clit sliding across his wet tongue and his soft hair in between your fingers, and you push his head as close as it can get.
you come while screaming, dizzyingly immersed in the pleasure. you forget that you’re holding his hair as you yank roughly on it. the only thing that matters to you is that jungkook’s mouth is still sucking your clit through the best physical sensation you’ve ever experienced.
when he finally lets go and gives you reprieve, you collapse beside him on the pillows.
“i’m sorry,” you mumble, disoriented. “about your hair, i mean?”
jungkook laughs. it’s funny how shiny-wet his face is—and that you caused it, which is kind of hard to believe in the aftermath of it. “the pain is what gets my dick hard. don’t worry.”
you chuckle breathlessly at that, and for a few seconds you both have that funny little moment to yourselves in all the ridiculousness of the overarching situation.
then jungkook’s hand is reaching for you again. “i’m not done with that pussy yet, though.” he brushes a finger over your hole, and your body twitches from the sensitivity. he slides that finger through the wetness and then uses the lubrication to push only the tip of his finger in. he dips it in and out, teasing the nerves at your entrance, until you’re shifting your hips closer to him to implore him for more. he grants your request by sliding his finger all the way inside.
having a finger inside you feels okay at first, though not as good as his actions a few seconds ago. jungkook decides to amplify your pleasure by placing his lips on your neck, leaving gentle and wet kisses behind, and you become all too aware of the feeling of your hardened nipples against the material of your dress. the pleasure begins to heighten when his finger finds a place inside of you that makes you throb, your walls clenching around him.
“ah…” you gasp and shift eagerly against his body as he keeps stimulating that spot, not thrusting his finger into you but simply stroking it across that area in a come here motion.
jungkook pulls away from your neck to smile at his handiwork. “that’s better, right?” he whispers, watching your reactions. your lips form around the word yes, though it’s difficult to try to speak, and you worry how unsteady your voice might sound. he waits until you’re clutching at his arm, leaving red lines on his skin from your fingernails, to carefully push another finger in beside the first. you try to breathe evenly, though his refusal to let up on that spot has your lungs stuttering for air all over again. his nose nudges your ear as he leans even closer and whispers, “there are so many different spots to find, so many different ways to make you come; i wanna go looking for them all.”
jungkook angles his hand so that his palm is also stimulating your clit, his fingers thrusting slowly now. you turn your head away from him as your body becomes ablaze, unsure what to do with yourself as your climax nears quickly.
“would you let me do that? learn your body like no one else has done?” he kisses the shell of your ear, and even that small action is enough to tip you closer to the edge with how your body is already so fired up. “who else could make you feel as good?”
this orgasm makes your eyes fill with involuntary tears, and little clear droplets bleed down the sides of your face and towards your ears as your body convulses. jungkook kisses the wet trails they make on your face, still fingering you steadily and forcing another urgent cry out of you. you feel untethered from yourself, like you’re not in control of your reactions, and you don’t know whether to be afraid of that or not.
jungkook pulls his fingers out when you have mostly calmed down, watching strands of your wetness drip between them before sliding them into his mouth.
after you come the second time, you begin to tire. the deeds have been done, and if you want, you can confidently go back out to the party now and say you’re no longer a virgin; you’re off the unofficial kill list and can live the rest of your days without having to look over your shoulder with every breath.
…but jungkook is hard against your hip, and in all honesty, you don’t want to leave without knowing what his dick looks and feels like.
“you tired?” he asks, and the casual air of it makes your stomach flip, for some reason. he says it as if this is something you two do all the time and he’s used to asking you this after wearing you out during a good session.
but now’s not the time to get delusional.
“no. i want more.”
jungkook smiles broadly, teasing his lip ring with his teeth. he sits up to peel that skin-tight shirt off, and you don’t bother to stop yourself from staring at all that skin in front of you. your eyes drop further down when he removes his belt and undoes his jeans, pushing his pants and underwear down enough for you to see his v-line but not taking them off. is that an invitation for you to do it? "you hold the reins here," he says, lying back on the bed again. "do whatever you want to me."
“whatever i want?” you repeat, already sitting up. he nods, hands behind his head, and you take the initiative to straddle him again, knowing you’re getting his jeans wet.
you reach for his pecs first, just like you’d imagined downstairs. the firm muscle of them is mesmerizing; but when you slowly circle your thumb against his nipple and his eyes flutter, a small and breathy moan escaping his lips, you’re sure you enjoy this much more.
you play with his nipples and even work up the boldness to purse your lips around one, sucking it softly, and every noise that arises from him makes your clit tingle.
you eventually move your hands to his abs, enjoying how they flex at your touch. you didn't think his navel would be pierced, not hearing that detail in any of the sex tales you've eavesdropped on about jungkook, and you wonder what else you might find out about him tonight.
“you should do your nipples to match.” you suggest it without much thought as you’re teasing his navel piercing, though you don’t regret saying it.
“would you be into that?” jungkook sounds like he’s actually considering it, watching you from below his lashes.
you grin. you don’t know if you’ll actually end up having sex with him again to see them, but you answer, “i’d love it…it’d be sexy on you.”
sliding your hands further down still, you come to the waistband of his underwear, which is peeking over the top of his lowered jeans. for a second the nervousness returns; jungkook notices how your hands twitch with hesitation. “it’s fine, i’m not gonna bite you…unless you ask me to, though. here.”
he slips a hand into his underwear and grips his dick, though he doesn’t take it out right away; he strokes the shaft a few times, observing your reaction with expectant and hazy eyes. the scene before you makes your mouth dry. jungkook quickens his pace, twisting his hand at the tip and using his own precum as lube, until you are overcome with the desire to see it and you pull his underwear out of the way.
his cock is thick and flushed and glossy with precum. you don’t have much to compare it to, but it’s a good size, and all the previous women have said that he clearly knows what to do with it. he releases it and it slaps against his abs, leaving a streak of precum behind. when you look at him in anticipation of what he’ll do next, he grasps it again and starts stroking himself quickly, like he’s trying to get off. the wet slap of his motions and his quiet groans make your walls clench.
“i could keep fucking myself and you could watch, since you seem to prefer it…” he murmurs.
“no, i—let’s go all the way.”
jungkook smirks and answers your decision by pulling a condom out of his jean pocket. you watch as he unwraps it and slips it down his cock. though you’re already straddling him, he grasps your wrist and encourages you to draw nearer to him. “come here, pretty thing.”
when you’re hovering directly over him, jungkook grips the base and teases his tip against your entrance. “ready?” he asks.
“yeah,” you say breathlessly.
it’s a little slow-going, but you eventually end up with him seated inside you. it’s uncomfortable to be taking something bigger than a couple fingers, but it isn’t terribly painful.
“now, try moving your hips like this…” with his hands on your hips, jungkook helps you grind against him so that your clit slides across his pubic bone with every move. the discomfort begins to ebb out of your mind after a little while of doing this, and you laugh quietly.
“i thought…i thought this doesn’t feel good for men,” you sigh, your eyes closing from the bliss of his firm abdomen stimulating your clit. “this grinding thing, you know. or so a friend told me…”
jungkook laughs too, but he doesn’t confirm it like you expect him to. his only answer is, “a sexy woman on my dick will always feel good.”
he seems to be more about showing than telling, anyway. his hands reach for your breasts, groping them over the fabric of your dress before sliding underneath for better access. sporadic moans escape you as he plays with your nipples, making your clit throb harder and sending more warmth pooling in your abdomen.
your breath wheezes out of you when jungkook starts pushing up into you, his hands still squeezing your breasts. “you’re okay, baby…” he tries a few different angles until he pulls a visceral reaction out of you, your walls fluttering around him and your body shivering intensely. “mmm, there it is.”
your motions start tapering off as jungkook continues thrusting up against that same spot that had you in tears earlier. noticing this, he slips one hand back down to your hip and encourages you to maintain your pace, keeping your clit stimulated while meeting his thrusts. “you’re doing good…” he murmurs. “go ahead, keep fucking me just like that.”
you’re glad lorelai makes you go to the campus gym with her every week, because otherwise you’d be about to collapse riding him for this long. it takes more of your strength and stamina than you’d expected. no wonder jungkook stays in the gym.
“oh, fuck…” the way all his muscles flex as he repeatedly pushes up into you makes you wetter; you no longer have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about the gushy noises your pussy is creating. your whole world has whittled down to this one room, and all you can think about is your next orgasm.
“pull my hair again,” he requests, his eyes dark and lost in lust when he looks up at you.
"jungkook..." you grip his sweaty hair in your hand and pull it to bare his throat, and he gives a desperate moan, his member jerking inside you. you've never felt so in control of a situation before in your life. it gives you a straight adrenaline-slash-dopamine rush.
his neck is just there and exposed, flushed from exertion, and his physical responses make you feel so primal, like you could do absolutely anything to him right now and he’d enjoy it. because of this, you decide to bite his neck, if only to give your mouth something to do. his dick twitches again when you do, another pretty moan leaving his mouth.
his voice is strained when he says, “bite me harder.” when you let go, your mouth travels the expanse of his neck to leave marks in a few other places, digging in harder just as he asked of you.
“fuck, y/n—” the pain of your teeth is pushing him close to the edge too soon, so he slips his other hand out from under your dress and brings it lower to circle his fingers over your clit. jungkook adding his experienced fingers to his constant stimulation of your g-spot is enough to cause your release. your body slumps onto his as you squeeze around him, your head falling into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and your eyes shutting so tightly that you see wobbling shapes in the darkness.
jungkook gives you a few more thrusts rougher than the rest, causing you to cry out. your climax and the aftershocks have your mind so dizzy that you only just realize that he’s reaching his own peak, his muscles tensing and relaxing as he fills the condom with his cum. you hear him groan next to your ear, the sound of it filthy and uninhibited.
jungkook lifts your head from his shoulder, his thumbs on your cheeks, and his lips meet yours in a final slow kiss, his teeth leaving their mark on your bottom lip as a parting reminder.
you're still trying to get your bearings and slide him out of you when jungkook suddenly says, "what is that noise?"
"huh?" you remain immobile for a moment so you can listen more clearly, and you recognize the sounds of screaming and feet pounding on the floors in a bid to run away—both upstairs and downstairs. these don't sound like the same screams of pleasure from earlier. "what the hell?"
you and jungkook scramble to collect your clothes and get dressed, thankful that neither of you stripped down completely, and he throws the used condom into a random corner of the room. you're still making last minute adjustments when jungkook stands up and unlocks the door.
"the fuck is—?" his voice cuts off as if he can't finish his thought.
"what? what is it?" you stand up to get a better view around his body in the doorway, and you scream when you see a lone blonde girl lying a few feet away from the door, slumped against the opposite wall with a slashed throat. her pink party dress bleeds red, and her face that catches the illumination of the string lights glints with tear tracks. you look away from her unseeing eyes before you can cry out again.
jungkook seems confused, peering down the other end of the hallway like there'll be someone there to explain. "it...didn't work?" he asks to no one in particular, as you have no answer. you walk farther back into the room as if putting more distance between you and the body will provide some protection. bumping against the window sill, you turn around to look out the window and see several cars peeling out of the makeshift grass parking lot, nearly running over other people or hitting other cars on the way. you release a stifled scream from behind your hands when someone is too disoriented to get out of the way of the speeding cars and is sent flying through the air before landing painfully, their body now unmoving. the offending car never stops to check on them.
the screaming downstairs worsens, countless voices rising to a fever pitch of shouting and wailing, and you imagine this must be what the pits of hell sound like. jungkook whips around to look at you. “we gotta get the fuck out of here.”
you two inch out of the room with him in the lead, peering into jarred-open doorways to see if anybody could be waiting in the shadows. there are a couple of other bodies in two other rooms, and you wonder—even with the loud music constantly reverberating through the house, did you really not hear the struggles that led to these deaths in your throes of passion? the thought unnerves you. the idea that maybe you were only saved by jungkook deciding to lock the door…
the stair railing you’d walked by an hour ago is now broken in the middle, splinters of wood lying scattered on the stairs, along with more bodies lying on the steps just as haphazardly. the scene looks like the remnants of a stampede; you hope most of these people are just unconscious and not dead.
the dancefloor is a swarm of people in various states of undress pushing and pulling each other as they rush for the exit. there’s not as many people heading for the back door, everyone attempting to squeeze through the main entrance in their unthinking panic, so jungkook grabs your arm and the two of you pick your way through the bodies to get down the stairs as best you can. when you enter the mass of people, you’re exceptionally glad for his strength because it’s easier to get through the opposing crowd.
to reach the back door, you must first get through the kitchen. beside the kitchen entrance in a dark corner, you see someone doubled over and grasping the person in front of them for stability.
you realize belatedly that they have a knife in their stomach; the other person standing over them is the virgin killer himself, calmly watching them suffer.
the killer’s face is hidden by the mask he always wears, which you are seeing for the first time now, up-close—a hairy werewolf head with lemon-yellow eyes and a candy-red tongue. it’s so unexpected that you would’ve found it comedic if not for the context.
a guy in a blue sweater grasps the killer from behind in an attempted surprise attack, causing him to jerk the knife out of the other person’s stomach. the sudden movement causes a spray of blood to come flying off the knife, and you have to hold back vomit when drops of the warm, stinking crimson hit your face. though it feels like time has slowed to a mere creep, all of this happens within seconds.
you don’t see much more before jungkook is forcing you to move again.
you, jungkook, and multiple others barrel out of the back patio door, nearly ripping the flimsy screen door off its hinges in your haste, while the classmate in the blue sweater fruitlessly struggles with the killer in the kitchen. your leg muscles flex harder when you hear the person's agonized shout and the mushy rip of flesh being torn seconds later. almost everyone else has taken the same idea to run for their lives rather than stay and try to fight or disarm the killer; the streets are dotted in every direction with students running for any possible safety, many not having arrived to the party in cars to escape in.
thankfully, jungkook is not one of them.
he grasps your wrist painfully hard in his panic and yanks you in the direction of his car, which is so pitch black that you almost didn't see it sitting in the shadows.
when you get inside, you've never been so grateful to be within the safe metal enclosure of a car in your whole life. hands shaking, jungkook jams the key into the ignition and presses the gas pedal so hard your head jerks against the headrest. however, in your temporary relief, you think of lorelai. your vision doubles as you scramble to open your phone and call her, your head spinning with a new spike of fear. it rings for a while with no answer, and you try two more times only to get the same result.
"maybe she got to safety somewhere else?” jungkook tries to reason with you, his eyes bouncing between your face and the road ahead so he doesn't hit any other cars or any random students still running across the streets. "i didn't see her anywhere in the house before we ran out."
"that just means she could be hiding somewhere in there!" you shriek, unable to control your terror at your friend possibly being trapped in the house with the killer.
"well—maybe just let her stick it out, he won't find her if she just—"
"oh god, but i called her like three fucking times; what if he heard the phone ringing? i'm gonna kill myself."
“y/n, you’re overreacting like shit, there’s no way he’d hear a phone ringing in all that noise—"
unlistening, you drop your phone and bang your fists on your head in frustration and anguish.
sighing deeply, jungkook forgoes any attempt to do a 3-point turn, which requires more coordination than he has at the moment, and drives straight up into someone's yard to make a U-turn back toward the house.
you hadn’t gotten too far from the party house, so in another minute or two and with a couple messy turns that cause the wheels to ride up onto the curb, you’re back on the street leading up to the house. before you can reach it, though, jungkook slams on the breaks, and you have to throw your hands out onto the dashboard to avoid flying into it due to not fastening your seatbelt. you’re not very successful; the move hurts your wrists, and you’re pretty sure some of your ribs just got bruised anyway.
“what the fuck?” jungkook shouts.
the virgin killer with his lycanthrope mask is standing in the middle of the street; he turns to face the car. he has a chokehold grip on a guy you recognize as a popular frat member, who is almost bare except for his blue-plaid boxers. you remember seeing the frat guy dancing with his girlfriend when you and lorelai initially entered the party; he was in the group of guys who put this whole party together as a way to “save” the campus’s virgins.
the virgin killer is holding a gun to the guy’s head, and you have no clue where he might’ve gotten it from. the guy’s demeanor is weak, and he’s barely able to stand, which is obviously from the profuse blood loss he’s suffering; the killer has carved sharp letters into his stomach to form two words—“FAIR GAME.”
“fair game?” you mumble, a sickly realization forming in your mind.
“fuck no—" jungkook is already throwing the car into reverse when you hear and see the first bullet go off, exploding the frat member’s head into an unrecognizable mess and making you scream at the top of your lungs. you hear more shots after you close your eyes and tuck your body down, along with the sounds of bullets splitting metal and hitting glass, and you think you might be actively dying—or maybe you’re already dead. even that would be preferable to experiencing this nightmare.
you can’t think as you feel the whole world spinning, your body tossed violently around. in reality, the only thing moving is jungkook’s car as he whips the vehicle around and speeds down the same street you just traveled up.
for a few long minutes, you only hear your own heartbeat, his murmured and frantic curses, and the strained breaths coming from both of you. you keep your body curled up with your knees tucked to your chest and arms over your face. the car’s engine roars as it races down the highway.
you’re afraid to open your eyes and find out, but you have to at some point. plus, the uncomfortable position is making your body hurt. carefully, you unfurl yourself and turn to look at him. “did you get hurt?”
“uhh—no? i don’t think…?” he takes one hand off the wheel to feel up his body as if he’s just realizing that might be a possibility. “but i’m wired off pure adrenaline right now, so give me a few more minutes to be sure…” he looks to you. “are you?”
“no.” your blood still runs cold at the thought of lorelai being stuck in the house or navigating the dark neighborhood streets at this time of night. maybe she doesn’t even have her phone; maybe it was lost in the commotion. the number of possible scenarios makes you ill.
there’s silence for a while; you assume he must not be hurt after all. you start seeing familiar roads that lead back to the campus, and the gears in your mind begin turning, powered by fear.
“do you think it’s safe to go back to the college?” you ask, your voice small.
after a pause jungkook asks, “why not?” though his face begins to look like he’s second-guessing things.
“the killer could go back to the campus…i don’t know. there was so much violence tonight. it’s like he really has a grudge against the students from our school or something. what if he wants more victims? the campus police are already incompetent, but with most of them off the grounds and on their way to the party house…” you don’t finish your thought. you’ll need to warn camille of the potential danger.
“right, yeah…” jungkook’s hands flex around the steering wheel a few times. “we should…probably go somewhere else, then.”
nowhere feels safe. still, you ask, “where?”
changing his route, jungkook glances over at you. “to a friend’s house.”
#jungkook smut#jungkook fic#jungkook imagines#jungkook scenarios#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts scenarios#bts imagines#bts fic#bts smut#bts x you#bts x reader#black reader#x black reader#x black fem reader#black fem reader#fem reader#female reader
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hi riki! this is a bizarre question ngl, but im wondering if you could please tell me about why you are anti-Zionist? Since i have FRESHLY (last month!! Woohoo!!) become bat mitzvah, and I’m not going to beit Sefer every week now, I’m starting to realize that what I was told about Israel and zionism miiiight be innacurate. Please feel free not to, but I would personally feel more comfortable hearing about Antizionism from somebody who is for sure not hiding any antisemitic biases. Thanks and I hope it’s not a bother!
Mazal tov!
I was debating if I should reply to this and how. You're only one year older than my son and I never considered talking about this with a kid other than my own children. But if you're online reading and looking up information about this, I'll just answer the way I would for anyone. Like I said, I don't mind explaining. But I don't have the energy to collect sources for you. I'll do that later if you'd like. For now it'll be a bit of a rant.
Basically, if you ask different people what zionism is, you'll get different answers. Some people say that zionism is just the acknowledgement of our connection to this land. That's not what I'm going against. I'm not denying that this is our ancestral homeland. I've never known a different home, I grew up near Hebron. Our history means everything to me. So maybe you could create some definition of zionism that I wouldn't be against. But then I'll be against the use of the word because in practice, politically, the movement has been colonialist. And that reality is more important to me. So when I say I'm antizionist, I'm not talking about whatever pretty idea someone might have, I'm talking about things that to me are very concrete.
Zionism uses whatever political terminology is useful to it at the time. Currently, it tries to paint itself as a sort of landback movement, placing us as the indigenous population of this land. This is a distraction. If you mean "indigenous" as "this is where we originated" - both us and Palestinians are indigenous, which makes this term pointless to this situation. If you mean "indigenous" as "a local population facing colonization" - they're indigenous and we're the colonizers. That's the more politically useful distinction.
And the thing is, zionists knew they were colonizers. Ben Gurion was welcomed by the local population and expressed hope that they're nomadic and could be persuaded to leave. Ze'ev Jabotinsky argued that no land has been colonized with the consent of its natives, so we should just take what we want like other occupying forces did. They knew what they were doing. At the time, there wasn't the broad political pushback against colonialism that you see today, so they didn't really hide it. They saw themselves as the colonizing force and the Palestinians as the natives and this distinction had them placing themselves above the Palestinians.
When I was in school, I was made to believe that Palestine was never truly a country and the population here was never a cohesive nation. You might see questions like "Who were the Palestinian prime ministers and presidents? What was the Palestinian coin? What Palestinian wars were there before the creation of Israel?"
These questions tell you nothing other than the fact that Palestine has been under foreign occupation for a very long time. They try to lead you to believe that Palestine and the Palestinian identity are fictional constructs designed to deny us our place in this land.
But Palestinians have their own dialect of Arabic. They have their own varieties of Middle Eastern foods. They have their own clothing, their own embroidery patterns, their own dances. They have a very rich culture that wasn't just made up from nothing within the last century. I still have to battle against cognitive dissonance every time I find something of the sort, because Palestinian culture goes against everything I was taught.
The truth is, the British had no right to occupy Palestine, and they had no right to offer it to us. If we pretend there was no population that was wronged when we took Israel, we can be "the good guys" with Palestinians being a sinister plot to ruin us. This turns normal families, normal people, into a conspiracy made to hurt us. We're not fighting a military force - every Palestinian person is a threat to our legitimacy. Israelis don't even really use the term "Palestinians" - they're just Arabs, their individual identity is stripped from them. We pretend that they belong to other countries around us.
Israeli propaganda will tell you that we only ever act in self defense. It's in the name of our military, it's called a defense force. Israel boasts that it has the only ethical military in the world. The only defensive one. But like I said, we define threats very broadly. And we whitewash a lot of history. I was taught in school all our fighting was defensive - and then I spoke to an elderly man and he said "of course we killed whole villages, it was war, that's what you do." Only as an adult I found out about things like the Sabra and Shatila massacre and our involvement in it.
For the existence of Israel as an ethnostate, every Palestinian is a threat. A lot of people are all in favor of Israel, but against the government actions of ethnic cleansing. The truth is, the ethnostate is not sustainable without the ethnic cleansing. You can't accept one and expect it not to lead to the other. An ethnostate is never a justified goal, and that's always been the goal of zionism as a practical movement.
And I know why this exists. We've had two millennia of persecution. Antisemitism is one of the oldest forms of bigotry. And we just experienced an attempt to industrially exterminate us, we lost millions, including from my own family. We want shelter and safety and the ability to defend ourselves. I just can't see that as justification for what we did and continue to do.
You can look up our human rights abuses, but personally, there were moments that hit me. When I saw a whole warehouse of mail intended to reach Gaza, mail that's been kept from them for years, including items like wheelchairs, in such bad conditions that some envelopes got moldy. I still think of the people who spent all that money to get a wheelchair and were prevented mobility because we decided to hold their mail.
I watched the biggest apartment building in Gaza collapse under our bombs and I cried thinking about the people inside, and about the potential survivors and everything they lost.
I watched our people beat up the pallbearers at the funeral of Shireen Abu-Akleh, a Palestinian reporter. They almost dropped the casket from all those beatings. They were no threat. They just carried her. There was no reason to hurt them.
On the news, after Shireen Abu-Akleh died, the description of the Palestinian response to her death was that they're "חוגגים על המוות." The literal translation is that they're celebrating over the death, but that's not what it means. The meaning is that they're exaggerating their pain and their grief. They're acting, pretending, milking the injustice of it for show. And that's a common Israeli narrative, that Palestinians make a big deal out of things and pretend to suffer more just to make us look bad. We've dehumanized them to the point where we don't believe their grief.
And before all of this, growing up, I saw what the "us vs them" mentality caused in children. I grew up in Kiryat Arba and the population there is very strongly zionist. It's a settlement. It's largely Dati Leumi (national religious? I'm not sure how to translate, dati means religious and leumi means national). Over there I saw children as young as six cheerfully talk about joining the military and killing Arabs. I saw a kid throwing chocolate past the electric fence separating us from them, and laughing when a small Palestinian child went looking for that chocolate, calling her a pig. I saw my high school classmates questioning if they should help the family of a six-months-old baby, first demanding to know if the sick infant is Arab.
The Israeli left has a bit of a slogan. הכיבוש משחית. The occupation corrupts. It means that being an oppressive force changes what we are. It ruins us. And I truly believe that. It taints so much about us and our culture, about our compassion and our ability to have solidarity with other humans. Many principles that kept us safe in diaspora are used now to harm gentiles living under our control, and Palestinians suffer most of all.
So these are the reasons I'm antizionist. I hate what we do to Palestinians. I hate what it does to us. And more fundamentally, I'm against colonialism.
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I made this post on Twitter, so I'm going to make it here too cause I'm tired of the misinformation
FOR THE LAST TIME, MIYAMOTO USAGI IS NOT 40
The only time you can argue he's 40 is during the WhereWhen comics that set in an ALTERNATE timeline. If you're going to argue about leosagi in some iterations, then back it up with proof and sources.
STOP SPREADING MISINFORMATION

No, there's no official age written anywhere. The only way to find out what his age is is by reading the comics. The comics give you a very vague timeline of events that you would need to piece together yourself if you want to know the age. But guess what, even Stan Sakai doesn't have an official age for him! During the CURRENT run, Stan has sated during a q&a interview that he views HIS OWN character to be around mid 20s to early 30s. But during the beginning of the run, he was around his very early 20s.
This is only comic Usagi, though. So don't apply this to other iterations like 97, 03, or 12.
In 03, they've already shown that they aged him down so that he could be closer to Leo. (And before you argue about how aging down a character is wrong, don't forget they aged April down to be a teenager in 12 so that she could be shipped with Donnie. Then they did the exact same thing in Mutant Mayhem, but with Leo. It's common. It happens. It's been done in other shows, too. Moving on.)
If his 2012 version is supposed to most closely resemble his comic version, then he would be in his EARLY 20s because he meets Jei early on in his comic series. But please treat this very loosely because even though this version is supposed to resemble Usagi the most, he's still far from him.

Those who know Usagi also know that he's not a strict, no fun guy.
You're gonna look at his stupid face and then turn around and tell me that he's the most strict and serious guy you've ever met?
Every iteration is gonna be different, so no information is going to be the same for each of them. So if you're going to argue about an iteration you don't even know about, don't say anything. If you don't know the source material, don't say shit. Back up your statement with proof. Don't just pull stuff out of your ass or repeat small posts you saw on the internet. And if you don't have time to research the source material, find someone who's already knows it and ask them.
And how do I know that the first person doesn't know what they're talking about? It's because during the video, they claimed that Yuichi and Miyamoto were the same person. They didn't know the difference between them and continued arguing that Leoichi was proship. Btw, the original video that they commented on was a Leoichi video, NOT a Leosagi video. This person was just overall incorrect.
#miyamoto usagi#usagi yojimbo#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt 2003#leosagi#tmnt 2012#tmnt#yuichi usagi#samurai rabbit usagi chronicles
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FAQ (Updated 2025)
She/her | 39 | I like cats and rain. My comic: https://catswaycomic.com/ My Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/greekceltic My Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/greekceltic Other links: https://linktr.ee/greekceltic Sorry in advance if you send me a message and I don't get back to you, I tend not to stress over messages/asks. I do try to read them though, and I'm always open to being asked questions about characters or my headworld/stories. I am already aware that my art is being copied. They're blocked. Please stop telling me about it. Rest of my FAQ is under the cut >
Can I repost your work? I don't mind as long as I'm credited. I'm less okay with my work being used as a pageviews grab, but it's probably not worth my time to care. If it's something I've selected to take down and don't have posted anymore, don't. If you can't find a place I have it posted, then default assume you shouldn't repost it. If it's something you commissioned, go for it. You don't need to credit me every time you share it. Once in a while is cool.
Are you okay with fanart? What about OC interactions? Can I post it? Sure, just don't profit off of it and please credit me. If you want to draw my OCs interacting with yours that's also fine (and fun!)- though I prefer situations where their actions make sense. Alf wouldn't make your character cry, for example. He's grumpy but not cruel. Posting it is fine. Is it okay if I take inspiration from your art and concepts? I've been in a situation in recent years where another artist has taken far, far too much. It's a subject I'm pretty burnt out on. I recently saw another artist's take on this and it looked sensible to me. I'm just going to quote theirs. I have tried to find my own words, but right now I find myself more comfortable using someone else's. "Well, if you’re having to ask me for permission, either your design is too similar or you’re being overly nervous about a normal artistic process. You’re absolutely free to use my work as a source of inspiration but I’d strongly encourage you to think about the details from my design you like most, and remix them with other concepts into your own unique take."
Taking inspiration is something everyone does, but please don't become a shadow I get bi-weekly alerts about. Ideally your pool of inspiration will be many artists and concepts re-imagined into something unique to you- and that you're being honest with yourself about the result. Honestly, if you're uncomfortable crediting your source, you already know what you're doing has gone too far.
Your art is being copied! / Will you tell me who the copy cat is? I get a lot of messages about this and am tired. I'm sure if my art ends up somewhere it shouldn't be or there's something really worth my attention I'll find out through friends. Otherwise, I'm just sayin' get a second or third opinion before coming to my inbox. I probably already know about it.
I sent you a message and you didn't respond. Sorry about that. I tend not to stress about messages because it can be a drain. You're more likely to get a response if you let me know from the get go what you want, but nothing is guaranteed. Sometimes I didn't see it, sometimes I got busy or forgot, sometimes I plan to do it later, sometimes I just opted out. It's not personal. Where do you Rp? Are you looking for more partners? Discord mostly. Roleplay consumes a lot of time so these days I mostly only play with my buddy Thema. I probably wouldn't have time to play, but I like to hang around people that do and I don't mind being asked. Just please don't be sad if I never get around to responding! I'm most compatible with people who are comfortable with radio silence.
Can I use your characters in roleplay/as roleplay refs? Considering I actively roleplay my OCs and there's a potential for confusion, I'd rather you didn't. Though I think there's a difference between linking to my art and saying 'this is my character', and linking to it to say 'this has the mood I'm going for, but here's what's different about my character--'. The latter is fine.
Can I make Fan OCs for your setting? Thinking about this makes me tired. Maybe I'll get to a point where I'm more comfortable later, but for now I'd rather you didn't make something directly from my worlds. But lets be real, you don't need my permission to draw cat monsters and I take a huge amount of inspiration from ancient history. Many of my concepts are inspired by things that you can read about and be inspired too. If you see something and are curious if there's a historical source, just ask. Hopefully I'll remember.
Do I have permission to draw NSFW art of your characters? No, for a plethora of reasons, some easy to explain and some not, but I probably can't stop you. Just don't profit off of it or show it to me. Accepting that I can't stop it doesn't change how I feel about it or that my answer is no. What about vore? If I haven't explicitly given you permission to do that, I'd rather you didn't go there. I always ask a creator for permission before I go there with their OC, I'd like the same respect.
Do you have a website for your OCs? I have RP pages for them scattered all over the place and many of them are outdated, but as I type this I recently put some up on Toyhouse. https://toyhou.se/GreekCeltic
Do you have a website for your comic? Sure do. It's an expensive fuck. https://catswaycomic.com/ When does your comic update? Sporadically. I work on it when I have time. My income is solely freelance commissions and Patreon- mostly commissions.
There's other places you could post your comic! Yeah, I know. I may do that someday, but for now I like having my own house, even if it's an expensive fuck. (Not really, the renewal just hits around tax time, Lol).
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I think I've played every prologue for all three of the games at least a dozen times through each but since OLL was the recent release, I have to scream about how much I love it. I'm sorry that this is so long, just ignore me if it gets too boring.
OLL was spectacular, I felt so immersed the whole time. The way you describe the scenery alone is magnificent. The attention to detail is incredible, I went through the hobby section obsessively just to get every possible answer. I adore the depth and nuance that you give to every character, including the MCs. I love them both so much.
We have Royal MC being a sheltered lamb between their illness and their upbringing but you did in such a way that it felt like a subtle background that can be woven in with however you choose to customise them from the prologue onwards in their character or decision making. It's great that you know they aren't this way out of spite but because they have been deliberately kept ignorant and you might be able to change that if you want to. They haven't tried to grow and broaden their horizons much of their own volition but they've never been encouraged to try or given reason to either.
You can assume that Royal MC forgot about their little Servant MC friend who saved them because they're too self-absorbed to think about them outside of how lonely they get, you can equally assume it's due to their illness and that they put it down to the amount of people allowed around them was restricted because of how fragile their health became (hence why they were eventually sent off to that resort which was well-guarded and with a specific clientele) or someone just made up a little story about Servant MC having to leave to placate Royal MC when they noticed their playmate never came back and they were told to try not to think about it, just like every other thing in their life that might emotionally unbalance them and risk their health.
Then all those years later, it's not too surprising that Royal MC only thinks about them vaguely like any other childhood memory. I imagine it wouldn't be too different on the Servant MC's end since they have a 100 things to do in a day and 99 problems accompanying (Arkasha sounds needy enough to occupy a large source of energy regardless on how Servant MC sees them) and don't really have the time or energy to think about the little Royal they used to look after and saved with their magic, however much that altered the trajectory of both their lives.
Servant MC in the same boat, as far as being ultimately powerless to control their life, but I love how you bring attention to their less privileged status without us having to tell them from something as simple as their hair even before they're being hauled in front of the spymaster in the prologue or that punishing walk back to the castle after the funeral later on.
I find it fascinating in how both of them are so utterly powerless. They've had their lives defined by forces stronger than them for as long as they've lived. Even Royal MC, with all their privilege and protection, can't simply do as they please even if that's something so simple as their first kiss, and they too have had their life ruled by the Tsarina and their illness. It was so gut-wrenching when they were forced apart - it felt like one of those clichés on separating twins, they're soulmates! I need a route where they can reunite, it's just too sad to think they'll be haunting one another in the narrative.
The Tsarina is superb. Truly, she encapsulates everything you can imagine a ruler to be. A woman full of contradictions, prejudices, hypocrisies, secrets, love and hatred and quite the work ethic. The contrast to how she behaves around her children and around servant MC fleshes her out as a person and we don't even have a POV from her. How I can see they way she can be a bystander/ally/antagonist in your route just from the prologue alone while not feeling like I'm being force-fed about the kind of role she might have in a route based on choices, is sublime.
I've got so many theories on Servant MC and why she hates them so much. I am burning with curiosity. Is the funeral Servant MC was invited to a red herring and the dead man isn't their father? Is the Tsarina pissy because her sister had her husband's illegitimate child or did her Sis have a lover on the side and still have an affair with Tatsiana's husband anyway. Was Sis planning to legitimise her baby and that would have somehow been a threat/insult to the Tsarina and her family? Some old, irrational fear about her children being supplanted or endangered by her nibling? Does it simply come down to an old inferiority complex and pride, that her sister, the favoured and talented magic user managed to produce a child with strong magic potential and said child used it to save their helpless cousin who was born without magic? Some posthumous victory over her? That even after disposing of her sister and husband, Tatsiana has her own ghosts haunting her narrative? What are you hiding?! Oh, and I really need to know, what the sister's name was. Surely that's not a spoiler? (I can't tell if the DAO elements are really there or if I've just been binging it too much)
The Tsarina was one of the highlights but I was positively bouncing at the RO POVs (RIP post boy, I hope you at least got a reach around to go with the knot before the end.). I am so torn now about whether I want Dasha's love or to be the bestie. But I am all there for seeing what they're like on Servant MC route, having to see and interact with someone that is essentially living how they fear might become of them at the Royal Court if they don't please the right people; MC is from nothing but like them, has magic. This should have uplifted them, but they are still treated like dirt because the Tsarina, and by proxy everyone else at court, refused to accept this and Servant MC actually ends up more downtrodden because of it. I don't imagine finding out that Servant MC is a bastard royal would do anything to calm them down. On a lesser note, I want to pet and cuddle Sabnock but I also want to keep my extremities intact, it's a struggle.
Sasha looking balanced and cool but you can definitely see the hints of obsession than can develop just from knowing they researched their special incest interest. Given that you said Sasha would get unstable after Royal MC's disappearance, latch on to Servant MC as a substitute and get protective over them, I would love to spectate the dumpster fire of Sasha developing class consciousness when they realise the kind of life Servant MC is living and that Mama would rather have Servant MC thrown from a window than be allowed to live the good life as Sasha's kept lover. The drama!
Even the little glimpses where we don't get a POV or just a brief view like Spymaster Rune were so intriguing. I did love the Spymaster cameo and can't wait to see what role they have on each route and I am in awe that you managed to give the Aide so much character without once having them speak. The Aide is super cute with the Royal MC. Treats them like a little pet and gets sour and puts angrily under the mask when they pay more attention to other people. Methinks they've grown more attached than they'd ever admit. BTW, I have to know, is the Aide our Servant MC's ex/former hookup? Like, can that be a thing with them?
How would life with Pasha actually work? They wouldn't want to bring either MC with them to the frontlines with his regiment so what's the plan there when he has to return?
The breakfast scene was adorable and informative, you glean so much about the family and their dynamics just from watching them all interact in that scene. How Stas' girls are treated feels especially poignant when you have the comparison to Servant MC (and to a lesser extent, the Mad Heir). You've spun such an intricate web and it leaves me in awe.
Bottom line, I think you're amazing, I adore your work and I can't wait to see what you have in store for us.
Fun fact, this message was too long to send in discord. I had to send it in three parts to show the ducks. And I'm a schmuck that pays for Nitro.
This was so fuckin cool to read, holy hell. The amount of times I love to be as subtle as possible, I always pull back and wonder if it goes into just... Not even leaving a mark, like too quiet? And then I have insane people coming into my askbox and pointing out all the things they've noticed!!! And, yeah, I go fucking insane. This was so excellent, I love this so so so much.
I hate outright stating an MC is THIS- when you can have a different outlook. I don't ever want to say the Royal is ignorant because they don't care, because they could! Or they're ignorant because they haven't been given a chance, because what if you want to play a little asshole that doesn't care? What if you only want them to get the class conscious arc when with Arkasha or Pavel or The Aide? Or fuck that, and you skip through life with Sasha!
Again, with the Servant MC- I don't think i'll ever cover why they slide to a hazy memory. Perhaps just the natural progression of childhood? Do they even remember that horrible day they nearly choked on their own lung? Perhaps the Servant didn't matter that much. A friend you liked but when they left your sight, that was it? Or maybe they did wail for their friend, even when the Tsarina said they weren't allowed near anymore.
I genuinely hate any media that has a character outright bemoan their place in life. Esp when it's ingrained into society. Like why are you wasting time letting them whine about their state in life when you can do something better? Quietly infer while also showing they're used to it. The best characters I like to see are the ones who have gotten used to their shit ass life, but still fighting to do more, try to have a better time by JUST A SMIDGE. It's like the Irene Adler story from the Sherlock Holmes books. She isn't bemoaning the state of women in Victorian times- Instead she fucking gets to business. She one ups Sherlock, then runs off to marry for love. For love. FOR LOVE. Girl, you had a love affair with a king, have blackmail on that loser, and used it to be happier, rather than being used and left powerless. Genuinely, an insane ick for me is shit ass writing that forgoes everything just to have some person whine out loud. Like shut up. Do something.
Also, I do love the Tsarina. I don't think we're ever going to get a POV from her, or at least an indepth POV. Just something seen from her eyes. I want people to see what they want to see, an unrepentant villain, or just a deeply hurt woman willing to do anything for her own children. Keep in mind, if you pick adopted, she still counts you as her child. She loves the Royal so much, in a way, even adopted, she couldn't extend to her nibling. At all. And it's not because one time her sister didn't share her doll or something.
Also can't wait to get started on the Servant Route of the demo. I promise things are going to get disgustingly fucky on that side of things. The sudden dad-funeral is on purpose, I promise. There's going to be more time spent on that, because what? You just learned the Servant is the nibling of the Tsarina, a bastard, and bam, funeral time? DW, many thoughts are going to be about that. That shit AINT the last of it.
BUT YES! The plan is, that you can pick how you view the aide. A titan of terror, a former lover when you both were young (they're the same age, or I think the Aide is a year older), a replacement for them that they can feel good or bad about. You can't not have an opinion of the Royal's guard.
Also not to spoil, but Pavel keeps his own modest home, so would rather the MC stay there, instead of being at the front lines. MORE ON THAT ON THE 9 O CLOCK NEWS.
I'm glad that was caught. So much. Now to feel a lot about Stas' daughters and their acceptance into the family.
ANYWAY, NO YOU'RE AMAZING, AND THIS WAS THE BEST ASK EVER, I JUST COULDN'T STOP SMILING THROUGHOUT IT ALL, IT MADE ME SO HAPPY, I LOVE LONG ASKS LIKE THIS!!!
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I'm a Bit Confused
I need someone smarter than me to tell me if I read the SCREEN Act wrong 😭 I saw some people mentioning it could impact Ao3 but it seems like it's only going to apply to visual depictions (which differs from KOSA that would have applied to every online platform) of what it believes to be content "harmful to minors". I definitely agree that the bill can and will be used to target LGBTQ+ media, especially as "obscene" and "lacks value to minors" was used and I think it sets an alarming precedent that won't stop with this and it also has a section mandating a report outlining the effectiveness of the measures, which can open the door to the bill being revised and more things being covered. The Senator that reintroduced it (Mike Lee) also promoted Project 2025. The bill is sponsored by the National Decency Coalition, which is a right-wing Christian non-profit and they sponsored other age-verification bills, and by the creators of LA Wallet (a platform that allows people to carry a digital ID).
It also seems like movies/shows with characters that engage in "sexual contact" (defined as "the term “sexual contact” means the intentional touching, either directly or through the clothing, of the genitalia, anus, groin, breast, inner thigh, or buttocks of any person with an intent to abuse, humiliate, harass, degrade, or arouse or gratify the sexual desire of any person") would be impacted by this bill. So could streaming services like Netflix and Hulu require an ID to watch Supernatural or the Vampire Diaries (I don't watch a whole lot of TV and these were what came to mind 😭)?
The bill concerns me because I think it sets an alarming precedent and involves the FTC but the coverage I've been seeing so far has been focused on Ao3 and I wanna know if I'm just not well-versed in reading bills or if they're talking about future bills that could be passed or revisions that could be made to this bill once it goes to the floor or if it's to spread awareness? I think my main concern is that if people email their representatives and use non-visual media as an example when it 'seems' like it won't be impacted by the current bill, the concerns won't be taken seriously because it just signals they did not read the bill/didn't care enough to read it and won't be remembered come election time. If I'm wrong here, please correct me.
Here are links to what I read: SCREEN Act
18 US Code 2246 (cited a few times throughout the bill)
Sen. Lee One Pager
Sen. Lee's Support for Project 2025
If you have more sources, please share them.
Please don't take anything I say here as fact. I am genuinely asking if I interpreted this right because I am unfamiliar with reading bills and may lack the necessary context to understand how this bill will be applied. I'll also edit this post with the correct information and clearly label what I got wrong.
#screen act#congress bills#us politics#H.R.6429#“children's retinas” also made me laugh cuz what 😭#i am genuinely asking too#my usual news sources haven't covered this bill yet#so i'm like questioning myself#just an idiot crying out for help
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Please Please Please - Sabrina Carpenter
He would have been a great guy, if you hadn't met him in prison. Now, you can't talk too much considering you had an overnight cell with three other women for causing a scene at a local beach, but you were just an angel, a girl who hadn't meant to do any harm. And really, who could blame you for being hot? Your ex was trash, so onto the next. The next happened to be caught up in a crime of his own. And it all started, on a Friday night.
I know I have good judgment, I know I have good taste
It's funny and it's ironic that only I feel that way
I promise 'em that you're different and everyone makes mistakes
But just don't
"l/n! Someone bailed your ass out!" a woman had shouted at me, catching my attention. I smiled at her graciously, still drunk off of last night's expeditions. It's not every day you date a handsome rich boy who owns a boat, only to find out he's done you dirty. I may have stolen a card or two, caused a scene at the beach, stolen said boat, but it all was a misunderstanding. The misunderstanding being he forgot he had a girlfriend. The officer unlocks the cell, opening the iron gate for me and I step through. "Down the hall to your left." she points in that direction. I begin walking in that direction and point towards the left, checking back in for correction. However she just snaps back, "I said to your left." I walk through a second pair of iron gates and come to a plastic barrier, a man stands on the opposite side. "Ma'am are these your belongings?" he asks in a rather monotonous voice and I glanced at the plastic bag. Sunglasses, my Chanel earrings, and my favorite lipstick. Oh thank God, I never thought I'd see my perfect little angels again. I nod and the officer pushes them through the gated hole. I reach inside to grab the bag, immediately going in for my lipstick. He talks some more, but I'm more focused on reapplying my makeup.
A good girl like me should have never been imprisoned. Wrongfully so might I add. They don't have any mirrors in here either, I just hope I don't look like a complete mess. I turn, using the slight reflection in the glass to reapply my lipstick. "Ma'am, this is not a beauty counter, I'm going to need you to comply." I ignore him, as one does when they don't care, and instead, I focus in on the sounds coming from behind me.
The shuffling is rather annoying and makes me lose track of how much lipstick I've dabbed across my bottom lip so I flip around to find the source of the commotion. It sounds like it's coming from the same hallway I had been placed in. I lean against the side of the doorway as the iron gates begin to close in front of me, watching the scene play out. Two officers bring in a guy. I tilt my head in confusion. He looks too cute to be in a place like this. Oh, like me!
He's dressed in an all blue jump suit. Looks like he isn't an overnighter like me, but a long term resident. I wonder what he did. There's a silver cross dangling against his chest. Oh, so they can take my Chanel's, but not his stabby cross? Both his arms are held behind his back, most likely with handcuffs. He looks up from the floor, eyes meeting mine. They're blue. The brightest color I had seen since yesterday's ocean. I could see them clearly from where I stood. The two guards shove him into the room, but he tilts his head back to look at me longer.
I let out a giggle as the guards shut the gate as soon as he's thrown inside. I need to find that man.
I heard that you're an actor, so act like a stand-up guy
Whatever devil's inside you, don't let him out tonight
I tell them it's just your culture and everyone rolls their eyes
Yeah, I know
Like all good women of my age do, I find out his name, his sentence, his crime. It's honestly nothing too good to remember, just something petty I'm sure he didn't really do it. I also find my way into meeting him.
I get all dressed up nice and pretty after calling into the prison to ask if he'd like to meet me. He agreed of course, and I could hardly fall asleep that night due to excitement. I wear a blue dress, and my heels and stockings. Maybe he won't be able to see it, I can't actually be face to face with him, this prison doesn't allow that for whatever reason. But he'll be able to see me coming, and that's the part that sends goosebumps down my skin. I know he wants to see me bad. He looks like the perfect amount of trouble I can get into, without being sent back to prison. His shaggy brown hair, the way it fell over his eyes. The steely blue of his eyes makes me knees weak. I just can't wait to hear his voice.
After I arrive, I get all checked in and luckily this time I was allowed to keep my earrings, lipstick, and sunglasses.
I walk into the room, a couple other inmates had their girls or family sitting in there, talking through the phone. I sit down gently, and for a second we just stare at each other. His stare is so dark and demanding, serious, but the way he's smiling at me, I know he's teasing me. He picks up the phone first, and my heartbeat quickens and I quickly follow. "Hello?" oh God help me. "Hi." I smile back, playing cute and coy. "I'm Christopher, but you can just call me Chris." he says, introducing himself. "I'm y/n." I replied shortly. He's so hot. His voice is deep, and a little scratchy, like he hasn't talked all too much. He must be lonely in there all by his lonesome. "I talked to the officers, they said you get out in two months." I said, starting up a conversation and Chris nods. "Yes ma'am, two months."
"Well, what'd you do?" I twirled the phone cord between my fingers, even though I already knew what happened, I just desperately wanted to hear him speak to me. I love his voice already. He smiled wide, all pearly white straight teeth. "Got into a fight." he shrugs, like it's nothing, so it must be nothing. "Well I'm sorry. You probably don't deserve it." he smiles a little wider, a little more darker. "I probably did."
"Now you tell me, how'd you get in here?" he continued, staring me down like he wants to eat me. God I hope he does! "It's kind of a long story..." I trailed off, and Chris places his hand against the plastic wall. "I got all the time in the world to hear it." I smile sweetly, placing my hand against his. How I wish I could actually feel his touch.
I want his hands all over my body, I want to feel his plump lips kiss mine. I want to hear him say sweet nothing's in my ear. I want to please him, want him to please me because sitting here staring at him, I know he's good. He knows he's good. He's entertaining. My tongue feels like it's going numb, and I can hardly speak. He taps against the glass after a few seconds, like I'm a fish, and I blink, coming back to reality. Focus y/n! "Sorry," I apologized quickly, feeling my face flush with heat at the act of being caught. "Got a little distracted.
And we talk, talk a whole bunch of nonsense. I keep coming back every few days just to see him again. It's against the rules to visit an inmate every single day, so I don't do that, I can't. I wish I could. Sometimes I lie awake at night, only thinking about him. The conversations we've had, the one's we'll have after he's out and we can finally touch and talk about everything under the sun without having a guard breathing down his neck. I wonder how many thing's he thinks about until he gets to me. I know I see him everywhere. Every time I see a cross, I'm reminded of the silver chain around his neck. The thing's I'd do.
Two months goes by in a flash when you're having fun. One day, I'm counting down until I can see him in person, and the next, I'm dressed standing outside the prison, sat on the hood of my car, watching him leave. For the first time, i'm seeing him without any guards or glass in between us. Chris wears all black, slack jeans, fitted shirt, a silver belt wrapped around his hips working overtime to hold up his heavy pants. There's a bag thrown over his shoulder, everything he's collected during his time spent imprisoned. I curl my finger at him the closer he gets, beckoning him to hurry up. I giggle when his arms wrap around my waist after dropping his duffle to the floor. I put my hands against his chest, keeping him from kissing me. I don't want our first kiss to be in the parking lot of a prison. He just smiles and shakes his head as I push him off. My own laughter circles around us, echoing against the brick walls as he opens the drivers side door for me to slide in.
"Let's go for a date tonight." he looks down at me and smiles as I backed out of the parking lot. Aw, look, he's already willing to treat me to a good time even though he's just escaped the confines of a prison. "A date, that's so sweet. Where?"
"There's this nice pizza place, just downtown, I gotta few friends out there." he says, one hand on my thigh, and the other on the door. Sounds cute, I love pizza. I agree, and we drive up to my place for a bit, before he tells me he's gotta leave. Chris and I say our goodbyes and we split ways. I stand at the entrance of my door, watching him walk along the sidewalks, his duffle slung over his shoulder. We still hadn't kissed yet. There's so much more passion when you don't kiss each other. We talked, same as we did in the prison. I mostly talked about myself which is great cause I love talking about myself. He drew patterns on my thighs, and whenever he got too close to my panties, hand disappearing under my dress, I just slapped his hand away. "Good boys wait." I teased and he scoffed, but he still smiled at me anyway. Our sexual tension is through the roof right now. I couldn't make it any harder for him, I don't think. I mean, I could not let him touch me at all, but I know even if I tied him down, he'd still find his way to touch me.
The next day, around noon, he shows up at my place, dressed in an outfit similar to yesterdays. Chris, always wearing the black now. It's so weird seeing him in a color that isn't a blue jumpsuit, but he does wear black so nicely. He helps me into my car, sitting down in the passenger seat. He knows how to drive, but after going to prison, you can have your license suspended, terrible, honestly, sounds worse than a death sentence. So he's not allowed to drive for now. I don't mind driving, keeps my brain busy or else I'd have to have him pull over every thirty seconds. When we finally arrive to the pizza place. It's just as cute as I thought it'd be. It's so Italian, flags flying in the breeze on the outside, signs. The inside is just as cute. Tables litter the room as Chris tugs me through. Chris nods to a man standing behind the counter.
The man is old, hair graying. I smile at him, half expecting Chris to introduce us. The smile on the old mans face falters. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. Why doesn't he look happy to see us? Chris pulls me throughout the building, darting behind the counters between the double swinging doors into the kitchens. it smells like pizza in here, and I turn around watching the man follow us. Neither he or Chris speak as I'm pulled through the kitchens. We stop in front of a room, which I assume is a freezer by the way there's a few bolts on the outside. The man with the gray hair just opens the container. On the inside, is a group of men.
All I'm asking, baby
A rather large man behind a table lights up a cigar, the biggest one I had ever seen in my life. There are a couple ripped up posters all around the room. The one that sticks out to me the most, is one that said boxing, in all capitol letters. "Don't move." Chris instructs, letting go of my hand. He rushes forward, a few men coming after him at the same time. I gasp, clutching my stomach in shock as I step back, almost falling against the back wall in complete shock. Punches are thrown, it's a mess of fists and blood. I had never seen people fight like this, it looks deadly. Chris knocks his fist into people, punching and shoving his way through it all. Were these people the ones who put him in jail?
Chris grabs a glass vodka bottle, smashing it against some poor guy's head. My eyes widen. Blood covers the floor. It seeps into the cement like water does to soil, staining the ground maroon. This seems bad for business. Chris doesn't even spare a glance at anyone else, and I realize, he's the last man standing. He ignores the shouting man behind him, and I can hardly hear him, my ears are ringing. The sound of a fist meeting someone's cheek will haunt me for the rest of my life. I clutch onto my stomach, fighting through the fear to just breath. Slowly, in and out. He's never once spoken about being vicious. I knew he was to prison for causing a fight, but I didn't think he was like... So violent like this. Chris walks up to me, dropping the rest of the glass bottle in his hand to the floor, it shatters. "C'mon baby." he groans, holding his side. His cheek is bruised, and he's bleeding just above his eyebrow. His bruises are a mix of purple and red. People stare as we walk back through the kitchen, and then the customers stare as we walk through the actual restaurant. I have a feeling we're not going to be welcomed back any time soon.
I don't really know what the hell just happened. My brain hasn't fully caught up with everything. I'm just in shock. Chris lets my hand go as we get to the parking lot, and he limps over to the passenger side. I start the car, not speaking to him. For the second time today, I'm grateful I'm driving so I have something to focus on. My brain keeps wanting to ask what the hell that was, but there's no way he'd answer. I think I'm mad too, mad and shocked, and a little afraid. Mad because I expected a beautiful little date, something short and sweet, and romantic, and instead he's bleeding out in my passenger seat. He holds his side, wincing every once in a while during every sharp turn. I don't stop driving until after the sun's already set over the Hollywood hills. I pull over into an empty mall marking lot, somewhere hidden behind the actual mall so the main roads don't see this. I get out, slamming the door and walking around the car. My breath comes out in short puffs, my heart racing.
What the hell have I gotten myself into? I just need a nice long break from him, and we've only been together for less than a day and I'm already excited over the aspect of being alone. But guy's like these don't leave girls like me alone. I sit on the trunk of the car, pulling my knees up to my chest. Times like these, I wish I smoked cigarettes, cause I could totally use a cigarette right now. I cross my arms on top of my thighs and stare ahead at the side of the mall, focusing on my breathing. I hear the sounds of someone shifting behind me and I know Chris is pulling himself out of the passenger seat. I barely blink when he appears beside me. He wraps me into his arms tight, like a bear hug, whispering into my neck. "I'm so sorry pretty, shouldn't have made you watch me do that." he apologizes through neck kisses. Normally, I'd be all into this, but I can't. I can't just get over it. "But you wouldn't have let me if I told you the truth."
But then he pulls back, all blue puppy dog eyes and floppy hair, lips pouting deeply and It's like we've found our rhythm again. We fall back into step and my heart crumbles when my knee nudges his side on accident. I slide my fingers into his hair, tugging his head back so I can get a clear vision of the cut on his eyebrow. It looks so bad. I breathe in a quick gasp, reaching out to gently tap his cheek, maybe wipe off some of the blood, but Chris flinches away. "It's okay." I nodded, ignoring every warning and red flag. He just buries himself in my neck again. I think I should just take him home now. I slide off the trunk and he helps me, gripping my sides. I accidentally unlock the trunk, and it flips up after the pressure of my weight releases it. I turn around to close it but freeze when I realize there's a fucking alive body, tied up in my trunk.
Please, please, please don't prove I'm right
And please, please, please
Don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice
Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another
I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker, ah
Please, please, please
My breath catches in my throat and I cough. I glare at him. Now, I'm really pissed. He's brought me, my vehicle into this whole mess. How, and when the fuck did he even have time to get this person in my trunk! Without me even noticing. "Motherfucker!" I shouted, slamming the trunk closed. Suddenly, all the feeling of pity and guilt wash right out of me and all I feel is anger and disgust. I stomp around the car, my heels clacking angrily against the pavement. I slip back into the drivers seat, and Chris hobbles to my side, slamming the door shut for me. "Where do I take him?" I ask once Chris settles down beside me. "There's a shipping container we keep these guys." my eyes fall shut. I don't want to know what we means, or what these guys means either, I just do what he says, following the instructions because I don't know what else I'm supposed to do about it. I just bite my tongue and drive.
When we arrive to the shipping container dock, Chris glances over at me. I grip onto the steering wheel tightly, not daring to look at him. Chris drags a finger along my arm, all the way to my fingers, and then leans between the center console to press a kiss against my bicep. "I'm sorry pretty, I'll make it up to you I promise." he whispers against my skin. At one point, all I thought was how good it'd feel to sleep with him, but now I imagine how good it'd feel to punch him. When I don't say anything, he just gets out of the car, pulling the dude from the trunk and slamming it shut. He has the guy in one hand, waving at me with the other, but I just stick my finger out the open window and flip him off while I drive back in the direction of home.
The following days, Chris shows up at my door step. Every day it's different flowers, different gifts. I don't even want to know where he's getting the money from. I fear it won't make everything between us better. I let him inside, each and every time. But I won't kiss him, I hardly let him touch me. I miss the person he used to be. It's kind of weird to think that he was a better person behind bars. I cried too, almost every night after he'd leave. I know he'd never hurt me, but it doesn't make me feel good knowing he's okay hurting other people. He never brings up those guys from the pizza place, never mentions how he got someone into my trunk, or what happened to him. And if I bring it up, he just tells me, "Don't worry 'bout it pretty."
Some days are good days, and other days aren't. Like one afternoon, we were driving around, stopping at gas stations and buying Slurpee's from every machine, making it our mission to try every flavor. He got a call, and he became stoic, losing the smile he wore whenever we were together. "Get in the car pretty." Chris ordered, tossing our latest creation into the trash and heading toward the door. "Chris what's going on?" I asked, tugging on his arm to try and free myself. I do not want to be another getaway driver. "Christopher!" I shouted, but Chris just pushes me against the drivers side door. "Don't make a scene. Understand?" I nodded, words leaving my brain, unable to defend myself. I should have ended it there, but I needed him. I knew he needed to me too. Whether it was as a girlfriend, a partner in crime, or to just use me as a getaway driver, whatever it was, we were like Bonnie and Clyde. I do as he says, not wanting to cause a scene. We're both still in trouble with the law anyway, it's just best to comply. I slide into the drivers seat and Chris walks around to the passenger seat. "Where to?"
"The bank on Melrose Avenue." he says, reaching into the duffle bag he keeps in the back. I close my eyes for a moment, preparing myself. After this, I am so done with him. I won't give him a fuck about him after this.
Well, I have a fun idea, babe (uh-huh), maybe just stay inside
I know you're craving some fresh air, but the ceiling fan is so nice (it's so nice, right?)
And we could live so happily if no one knows that you're with me
The drive to the bank on Melrose Ave doesn't take too long even though it's on the other side of the city. I might have been going just above the speed limit, wanting to get this over and done with already. Beside me, Chris sets his gun up, making sure there are bullets in it, and that it actually works. The soft clicking from beside me makes my heart beat quicken. So far, in the month since he's been released, I've been the getaway driver, learned how to tie up a man properly, learned police codes, cleaned his weapons, bandaged him up after fights. I didn't sign up for this, but maybe I did, I just don't know why I ignored it all, and still continue to choose to. It's not like the life I lived before was adventurous. I say that knowing I ended up in an over night cell.
I park on the side of the road right in front of the building. Chris says I never have to worry about cameras, all the footage from the past twenty four hours until we're done are going to wiped, zero evidence of anything happening at all. I just nod and muster up a smile. he comes around, shoving the gun in his pants. He opens the door for me, helping me out. I don't know why I have to attend these meetings anyway.
We enter the building, and Chris goes straight into his little dangerous moods. He holds the gun up to the face of some poor woman, ordering people around. it'd be hot if I knew he wasn't doing this in real life. Like if he were acting in a movie, I could excuse the behavior. But this is real life shit. He waves the gun around, ordering the woman to put more cash into a duffle bag, separate from the one that usually carries his guns. She looks over at me and I shrug, smiling politely. I don't have anything to do with this really, I'm just an innocent girl who's gotten roped into the whole bad boy persona. I thought it was just a persona, but no. This is who he really is. Chris looks back at me, a sick smile on her lips. He winks at me, like I'm supposed to be enjoying this. I feel butterflies flit around my stomach, but these aren't joyous butterflies. These make me feel like I wanna hurl.
People litter the floor, one's he's hit, one's he's made drop to their knees. I'm just glad there weren't any children in here. Hundred dollar bills flutter to the ground as the woman zips up the duffle, and Chris turns around, beginning to walk out. I desperately hope he'd forget me and just run off, but he turns around, beckoning me over with an outstretched hand. "C'mon pretty, we got more work to do." I just over the people on the floor, my heels making my feet ache as we ran through the building together. He laughs like this is just some jolly good fun. I really wish just for one day, we could just stay inside. No one would know we were together, it'd be the perfect paradise. I know he loves the fresh air and the scent of chaos, but my air conditioning is ever better! It sounds like such a fun and sweet idea, we could just order take out, watch a movie, and then maybe I'd let him kiss me just once.
I'm just kidding, but really (kinda), really, really
But no.
An arcade comes into view as his gives me directions, and for a split second, I'm filled with joy. A real date. This would be our first ever real date. "I need you to be a distraction for me pretty." Chris explains, shoving the duffle bag and his gun into the back seat, hidden from the view of the outside world. I hate when he just leaves his thing's around like that. Neither one of us are licensed to carry, especially not him after just being released from prison. The smile falters from my face for a moment as I stare at him. "You're fucking kidding right?" I asked but Chris sends me a glare. "Don't ask questions, look at all the money I just got. We get to keep half." I scoffed and slammed on the brakes as I pulled into a parking spot directly in front of the arcade. "We get to keep half! We should get to keep it all!" I shouted in frustration. "Don't raise your voice at me. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you visited me. Don't act like you don't enjoy this."
My entire body erupts in flames of pure anger. "After this, I don't wanna see your face again." I snapped and he shrugged. "You'll find your way back to me. Always do." the way he looks at me, it's not the same as he did a few weeks ago when he was a prisoner. Maybe I should remind him who he really is, who he's really talking to, cause it certainly isn't me. I just smiled at him. "Go inside, I'll meet you in there. Need to touch up my lipstick. Same ruse as that festival?" I asked, pulling down the drivers seat mirror and Chris smirks, nodding. "Thank you for listening to me pretty. Promise, after this we can go shopping." he grins and kisses my cheek before exiting the car and heading into the arcade. I apply my lipstick as normal, before grabbing my phone and dialing up 911. "Yeah, hi. I think there's a guy in the arcade on Bellmont who's going to get into a fight. Mhm, he's got a gun on him, I'm worried he's going to get physical. Yeah... Eight minutes out? Well get here quick... My name?" I pull the phone away, and hang up. I shove my phone into my purse and head into the arcade.
I make my way inside and my phone chimes with a text from Chris. The guy behind the counter is my target. I huff and bite my bottom lip. I mess up my hair a bit, and get right into the bit. "Hi. Excuse me sir?" I called, getting the guys attention as I stepped up to the counter. He looked up at me, eyes widening as he takes in my appearance. Yes, I know I'm pretty. "Hi." I repeated, leaning against the counter seductively. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you could help me out with one of the games, I'm not quite sure what it wants me to do. I feel so silly asking for help." I sighed dramatically, blowing out air between my lips, pouting them out. The guy looks me once over again and nods, following me to a random game. I randomly picked the basketball one, I'm sure he'd love to show off his athleticism in front of a gorgeous girl. I'm not quite sure what kind of trouble he's caused for Chris and his... Entourage, but it must not be a good one if he's got public embarrassment and a fist flying at his face in a few moments. I smile and he shows me how to play the game, and within two minutes, Chris rounds the corner, shouting about why this dude's flirting with his girl. I just stand to the side, waiting, and pulling out a piece of gum from my purse. I chew on it, popping bubbles as Chris pummels the guy into the ground. I stand aside, watching as an officer comes running in, gun up and pointing it directly at Chris. Chris drop the guy onto the ground, putting his hands behind his head and dropping to his knees. His eyes flit up to mine and I smirk, waving my fingers delicately. The officer shoves Chris down to the floor, his cheek pressing against the dirty carpet as he gets patted down. The officer says something into his walkie-talkie as he stands over Chris. The officer grabs Chris by the biceps, pulling him to stand. I walk around a few arcade games, keeping my eyes trained on Chris. He can be as bad as he wants, but I promise I will always be worse. I step up to him as the officer keeps his eyes trained on Chris' wrists while he cuffs them. Chris struggles, trying to free himself. No one is better than me at turning loving into hatred.
There's a mess all over the floor, but I step over it, cupping Chris' cheeks in my hands. Back to prison he goes. "What did you do?" he continues to struggle, but what's done is done. "I'll see you in two months." I promised, sliding my hands from his cheek down his chest as the officer pulls Chris away to the police car. Chris' entire body is turned to watch me as he gets dragged away.
Please, please, please don't prove I'm right
And please, please, please
Don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice
Heartbreak is one thing (heartbreak is one thing), my ego's another (ego's another)
I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker, ah
Please, please, please
Again, we find ourselves two months later. I stand outside the same prison, watching as Chris leaves the gates and walks towards me. Wearing all black, duffle behind his head of his belongings he's collected over his two month staycation. "You have fun?" I snickered and he glares at me, he stops in front of me. I just shake my head and roll my eyes, shoving passed him. I stand beside the drivers side door and wait for him to open it for me. He does so, then moves to his side. He's such a passenger princess it's annoying. "I talked to some of your friends." I said, turning to look at him. His eyes widen as he glances from the open window to me as we speed down the highway. "You did?"
"Mhm," I hummed. "And I have a huge surprise for you at the loading bay. You wanna go see?" I giggled and Chris nods, eyes trained on me. "It's gonna be really fun." I continued. I tried to turn him into a good guy, tried to keep him inside my arms, my car, my home, and away from his miscreant friends as much as possible. But I'm tired of keeping him from them when it's clearly where he wants to be. If you can't change a man, become the man and see how he likes being treated that way, I always say. Maybe it'll lead to me getting an over night cell again, but it'll all be worth it. "Wish I could read your mind right now. Know what you're thinking 'bout pretty." Chris compliments and I smile flirtatiously. "Oh, I bet you wanna." I pat his thigh and his whole body tenses. Poor boy must be super sensitive after not being around me for two months, but we've also never gone anywhere. We haven't had sex, haven't even kissed yet. We never will.
When we get there, I park the car, and everything I requested is already set up how I wanted. Exactly how I imagined. "You putting on a show for me pretty?" Chris asks, unbuckling his seatbelt excitedly. There's a single chair, and a single leather couch. I park the car right behind the metal chair. "I think so." I teased. "You sure about this, think our first time shouldn't be on a couch... Or a chair." Chris says, taking notice of my subtle hints. "Don't you worry your pretty little brain about any of all that nonsense." I cupped the underside of his jaw, squishing his cheeks together. "You get the chair, I get the couch." I explained in few details and Chris nods, stepping out of the car. I follow after a few seconds, sitting down on the couch across from him.
If you wanna go and be stupid, don't do it in front of me
If you don't wanna cry to my music, don't make me hate you prolifically
I'm wearing my white dress. He likes this one, he bought it from some clothing store. He says he likes the way the white meshes with my skin tone, makes me body look like I'm glowing. The entire set up is drowning in red and orange lighting coming from the car. I cross my legs over each other, biting my lip. He really think he's in for a good time? He looks so good like this too, what a shame it has to end this way. His arms hold up his head, muscles flexing in the golden hue lights. Pretty boys don't deserve endings like this, however the little devil inside him sure deserves to be smashed to bits. "You know, I've thought a lot about today." I finally stand up, gripping onto the silver cuffs in one hand, keeping them hidden until the time is right. "You had two months to plan this." Chris says. He's gained a new addition outside the silver cross around his neck. A simple, yet sparkly, silver chain around his wrist. It dangles around it. Expensive I assume. "You could say I've been a busy woman." I shrugged, sitting down on his lap sideways. He goes to move but I shake my head and he holds still. "Now, if you just listen, we can be done in fifteen minutes." I hold up the silver cuffs and his eyes widen. His Adams apple bobs as he swallows. I love making men nervous, it excites me. I giggle and stand up. "Wait, only fifteen minutes?" Chris' gaze follows me figure as I stand, walking around the chair to the back where I take both his wrists and clamp them in between the circular parts of the cuffs, placing them behind his back. I rest my hands on either side of his shoulders and bend over. "I can finish in two if you're lucky." he snaps his head back to look at me. "The fuck are you talking about?" he struggles against the cuffs, just like he did when he was being taken to prison for the second time. "Don't struggle pretty," I kiss his cheek, leaving a stain from my lipstick. I also used the nickname he's been using for me since we met. Fits him more than it fits me. I leave my hand on his shoulder, and walk around him sensually.
I stop in front of him, showing the roll of duct tape I had requested to wait under the chair. He's suck a sucker. "You're not gonna put that on me are you?" Chris asked slowly. Stalling, he's stalling me. I sit across his lap again, not having to worry about him touching me, he's restrained. "You see, I've learned a few thing's from you in the short time we were together, and I learned even more from your friends." I roll the tape around my finger, quickly locating the beginning. I rip off a piece, decently sized, and press it against his lips, effectively shutting him up. I stand up and clap my hands together, admiring the piece of art I created. "I called the cops on you in that arcade. I got tired of being your getaway driver, tired of being the ruse." I leaned down and pressed a kiss to the duct tape, leaving a lipstick mark right over the place where his lips are.
"That was our first kiss." I joked, stepping back. "And you raised your voice at me a whole lot Christopher. My new friends don't like that." I shrugged, resting my hands behind me hips. "What to do... What to do." I circled him like he was my prey. "I mean, as they say in Chicago," I leaned down to whisper in his ear. "He had it coming."
Please, please, please (please)
Please, please, please (please)
Please (please), please (please), please
#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo triplets x reader#matt sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x you#chris smut#chris sturniolonx reader#sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#madison beer#madi filipowicz#nate x reader#nathan doe x you#nate doe#nathan doe#nessa barret icons#nessa barrett#nick sturniolo x reader#nicolas sturniolo smut#sabrina carpenter#short n sweet
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I won’t lie, saw your post about how things are scary rn in the U.S. and… idrk what’s going on. Been avoiding it like the plague bc i’m afraid of the information i’m currently ignorant to. As someone who dwells on “what ifs” it scares me to know what is going on but at the same time i wanna know what’s happening since i live in the U.S too. Just wanted to share this. I feel bad bc of the fact that i been ignoring it, so i do wanna know what’s going on. I just want someone to tell it to me in a way that doesn’t feel like i’m being attacked for avoiding it bc i’m too afraid to learn the information by myself. But there may be some people like me out there.
Hi there, that's absolutely valid, it's been a bit of a mess and some miscommunications have occurred already (as typical always every 4 years here) and wanting to avoid all of it isn't unreasonable. Acknowledging but avoiding a subject is completely different than denial, and that's totally okay, I don't judge. I'll do my best to explain in a way that makes sense and that's hopefully helpful
Before anything else, let me preface this by saying that I am NOT a political scientist, I am NOT an expert in anyway regarding politics in the slightest, anything that I share below is based on my personal experience and research so please keep that in mind, I highly encourage you to check out the sources below for any further information. Having said that, here's what we know:
According to The Associated Press, and other news outlets, the current president elect is Donald Trump with 292 of the electoral college votes, races have not been called in AZ, NV, ME and AK.
Harris is set to give a concession speech at 4 pm EST today.
Republicans have control of the senate with 52 seats, with democrats having lost 3 seats and currently have 43. 5 remaining races have yet to be called. Currently, they are projected to be filled by Democrats by Associated Press and 270 to Win.
The house is currently still a toss up, 270 to Win projects 209 (D) to 213 (R) for 20 of the remaining 33 uncalled races. Again, 13 races are still a toss-up at this point in time.
Sources for more information:
If you would like more information regarding live coverage, as well as general, unbiased reporting, Associated Press is (in my opinion) the most accurate and unbiased source of information.
If you would like to see current projections for the remaining races, Associated Press and 270 to win appear (emphasis on appear) to have the most accurate reporting.
If you want to see live coverage and discussion, or to see how things unfolded last night, CNN did have a broadcast going last night that was free to watch. It appears they've now taken it down. If I happen to find said broadcast I'll update the post with it as they do a good job of explaining things state by state, precint by precint. However, much like any other media outlet, they can be prone to bias (left-leaning) and potentially to fear mongering. Should you seek out CNN or any other news outlet besides those above please keep in mind that reporting may be influenced in certain ways because of this.
Having said all that, here's what I personally think this means and what can still happen, with facts mixed in for reference. Much of this is my opinion and should not be taken as fact unless it's cited. Again, not an expert, just someone with a very very basic understanding of politics and government.
With the win of the presidency and the senate, republicans are at the advantage. With senate control they will be able to assist with choosing the next presidental cabinet, and should there be a vacancy on the supreme court, assist with that.
However, if democrats can take control of the house, the win will be massive, and leave them able to have some say in the next 4 years, but nothing is for certain at this point in time
Democrats potentially have at least a little breathing room in the senate, they're not majority, but only 4 seats difference is better than nothing
We've gotten through a Trump presidency before, the situation then, as well as the feeling everyone has now is exactly the same. We made it through then, and we can make it through again
The senate is only guaranteed to be controlled by Republicans until the 2026 midterms, two years is a long time, but it's only two years
Having lived through the last Trump term in my teens and remember it well, yes he managed to do some pretty awful things, but he also undelivered in several ways, we can only hope the same thing happens this time around, this would be especially true should democrats take the House
He won't be back, if he makes it through the term he'll be too old and his health won't be great. Republicans didn't want him this time, they won't want him the next.
JD Vance and so many others will still be kicking long after he's gone though, and that needs to be in the back of people's heads when we get closer to 2028
Trump made a lot of empty promises he didn't keep before, and personally I don't think he beleves half the things he says, he just says it because he knows others do believe it. Giving up hope now for a better tomorrow won't make a better tomorrow, hoping despite it all will. Giving up also gives people like him exactly what they want, and I'm not about to do that, neither should you.
For now, be vigilant, stay safe, but try to relax. Doom-scrolling, wondering what might happen, and so on, is pointless because at this point, we don't know. Anything could happen, this election is a clear example of that.
Hope this was able to help, anon. We're all in this together, and as long as that remains true, we're going to be okay. Highly recommend after reading this to do what's best for you, be that choosing to find out more through the sources above or continue to avoid it. Personally, I'm getting together with some friends this evening to study, chat, and chill and decompress from it all, hopefully you can do something similar if you need to 💜
#did my best to keep my opinions void of misleading information#again I have no expertise#in the slightest#if you see post and are interested in engaging in discourse#please don't#this is just basic information and my opinion#it is not intended to influence people's views nor to cause arguments
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I didn't want to run a tag essay on someone else's ask post just because it touched on my apparent Rant Button Topic and I kept going, but it's always so important to me to stress that deciding you can Tell who is part of the in-group and who isn't based on immediate first impressions is how you get outright accusatory gatekeeping, without even a middle step in between point A and point B. Not just with alter/nonhumanity‚ but with everything. When you do this, you implicitly think yourself immune because you know your own identity and it's obviously real‚ source: you—so you are the standard‚ it's obvious‚ and those who don't match up to it just wouldn't get it, just won't ever understand the complexity of your lived experience as part of an in-group they're not in-. If they insist, they might even be faking.
Can you tell I'm tired of other autistic people assuming I'm not autistic because we didn't relate to each other or me to their self-inspired understanding of how to define autism? How many other neurodivergent people have had a different experience of it throughout their life or to begin with, those whose autistic traits I couldn't relate to and therefore mine are just annoying or me being stupid, not autism? When someone decides they "know their fellows when they see them," they have already decided that their outspoken directness (for example) is the default autism, and someone else's inability to verbally explain complicated things disqualifies them.
You cannot smell the nonhuman on someone! If you think you can, you may be someone who has decided that your nature is the default and outside of that circle is everything orthohuman, facing someone quietly deciding the same thing about you, more than you'll ever know. In a community that's already by nature comprised of so many different species who are never going to instantly click and relate to each other because some of us are dogs and some of us are fish—what makes you confident you'll always know another alterhuman when you see one if you're a bluejay and you're interacting with fucking Count Orlock? See also: This guy claims to be autistic, but struggles to verbally explain complicated things and uses reticent or confusing language; clearly he's an obstinate neurotypical refusing to just speak in a clear manner about things, as everyone knows they're like. Don't consider he might be semiverbal or psychotic or traumatized or that that can even just be a trait of autism on its own.
Point of order 2: this mindset almost-always leads to a superiority complex. It's not about the misanthropic ideals, it's about feeling like you are the arbiter and when you sweep everyone else outside of your specials circle, they're whatever word your particular community uses for what Reddit has compassionately dubbed NPCs: every single other person on the planet who isn't you and your friends. Don't you just hate humans? Don't you hate looking at ugly humans being loud and obnoxious all over the place? I, too, love arbitrarily deciding which people are part of the out-group based on how aesthetically pleasing they are to my nonhuman eye. (How often, I wonder when I see these sentiments, are they being thought in the moment about a disabled or homeless person in public.)
This isn't just an alter/nonhuman thing, it has been a huge problem in the autistic community with people deciding "neurotypicals" are the root of all evil, transmascs especially deciding cis men can just never understand anything true and real, and since knowing I'm aro I have adamantly refused to engage with the "we're better because we're enlightened for being ace/aro" thing that is surprisingly common, but since that was the topic of the previous post, this goes out to the alterhuman community: I am once again asking you to stop making assumptions, let alone extrapolating from them the in-group's exceptionalism and the out-group's lack of an inner life.
Somewhere there is a bluejay being a stubborn human again for being oblivious to Count Orlock's intricate fictionkin experiences.
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Rant about fandom culture incoming. Please feel free to scroll by ❤️
As someone who has never been in a fandom before and only recently got into "nerd culture," I find the idea of getting upset about shipping and headcannons very jejune. Especially in an RP game that lets you explore different relationships and routes.
Fanfiction is not about what is real or canon. It's about exploring the characters, imagining them in different settings, or alternate universes.
Shipping is the act of creating a romantic pairing between two people or characters who are not otherwise romantically linked. People ship two characters together for a variety of reasons. Usually, they like the dynamic or the chemistry and want to explore it further.
BG3 is a role-playing based off of a role-playing game that also lets you role play as one of the main [origin] characters. The game let's you explore many paths depending on how you want to play.
Every ship is a valid role-playing variant.
But it's not just about shipping, I have also seen people judge others for how they choose to play the game or chastise others for ignoring "canon" whilst ignoring canon themselves.
People write essays or create blogs dedicated to hating specific characters and judging the people who like them (why bother?). The characters are complex and change depending on how you choose to play the game.
From what I have observed, there is usually some kind of bias behind strong opinions, and there will always be something in the game you can use to defend or disprove a view. The curtains are not always just blue, but sometimes they are.
Just accept that people are going to like characters you don't, ship characters you don't, and choose different in-game choices. Your headcanon, your opinions, and your preferences are not everyone else's. This is a role-playing game where you get to make your own choices, and fanfiction is about exploring scenarios outside the source material. There is a lot in the game that we don't know or that is down to interpretation.
Surely, there are better things we could be doing than writing lengthy posts about why we don't like something and discouraging others (me included as I write this post).
Focus on reblogging what you like or creating the content you want to see. I'm tired of people telling others they're doing fandom wrong and acting like their opinion is the only correct one that is free from any bias. No one is free from bias.
All of this, just to say, I wish people would let others enjoy the game how they want to. Most people do, but there are always a few.
You're not a clown for sympathising with Astarion, shipping Astarion with Gale, imagining Gale with kids post game, or exploring darker character paths.
People project onto all of the characters just as much as they identify with them. And I am sure that there is not a single ship out there that does not have some fanfictions that are a little ooc or where people explore the dynamic different to how it would be in the game. Even with oc x origin ships sometimes. So that is not a valid reason to discredit something you don't like. Especially if you're okay with it when it is not something you personally dislike.
Neither is the fact that you can do what you want in an origin run because they gave us the option to play as them and control their story. If origin runs don't count, then that means no ship is valid except the one between an origin character and Tav. Not just the one you don't like. People often see what they want to see and take any evidence that supports their view, whilst disregarding or finding ways to discredit the ones that don't.
Also, I love it when people claim not to care who people ship but then proceed to create a lengthy post about why they shouldn't be shipped. Including calling the people who ship them clowns or another derogatory term. People who are actually indifferent don't bother to go to such lengths to discredit it. Even if it is just on your own private blog with the names censored, why take the time, especially when you supposedly don't care?
When you're chronically online, you start to notice some patterns. That's all I'm saying.
#As long as it is not something illegal or ethically wrong what does it matter#fandom critical#bg3#fandom discourse#bg3 shipping#baldurs gate 3#bg3 fandom#bg3 fandom critical#I'm not saying you need to like everything but if the ship is between two consenting adults let people ship them#And don't post a xx critical post and expect people not to defend it#It doesn’t take much to respect other's views#Let people enjoy the game how they want to BG3 fandom challenge impossible#Go for a walk instead of writing that post#People only criticise Bloodweave because it is popular#And it's so ironic that the other Gale ships have very little content in comparison#Instead of criticising Bloodweave make other ship content with Gale#Where is the Bladeweave content huh?#And the ships that would probably make the most sense have the least amount of content in general#Get over it already
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Please tell us your cryptid takes
Okay, so
My main thing I'm super fuckin' pedantic about is that the word "cryptid" has a specific meaning, and it drives me a little nuts that people in general, and very much people on tumblr, use it wrong all the goddamn time.
A cryptid is just an animal. An animal that is attested to exist in a particular environment, which is either not formally documented and recognized to exist by mainstream zoology at all, or is not recognized to exist in that particular time or place.
Something that is definitively known to not exist is not a cryptid, so a known hoax is just a hoax, even if it was considered a cryptid before the hoax was found out. Something that has been formally recognized to exist is not a cryptid, even if it used to be.
Not all cryptids are real, that's just fact, but the important thing to bear in mind, is any genuine cryptid potentially could be.
Folklore and mythology can be a source of evidence attesting to the existence of cryptids, so there is naturally overlap between folkloric creatures and cryptids, but not all folkloric creatures are cryptids.
Jackalopes are not fucking cryptids.
They're folkloric creatures we know for a fucking fact do not really exist. Specifically, it's a "fearsome critter"—a kind of folkloric creature intentionally made up to entertain and to kinda pull the legs of credulous outsiders to a group or area. Australian drop bears exist in the same sort of category.
Mothman is a cryptid that has become a folkoric creature since the initial sighting accounts captured the public imagination. The version of mothman tumblr is fond of is the folkloric one, and bears little to no resemblance to the actual cryptid.
Figures from Native belief systems are generally not cryptids because cryptids are just animals, even if they're weird animals, and things like spirits are, well, spirits, and religious belief is a different conversation. These mythologies can, however, help attest to the existence of some cryptids, and certain cryptids share their names with figures from them. For instance, there's the thunderbird figure found in many Native North American traditions, and there's a large bird of prey cryptid attested particularly in the Western US usually known as thunderbirds.
Fictional characters like slenderman are not cryptids, and never will be because they are fictional. Future cryptids may, however, borrow names from fictional characters or creatures they happen to resemble.
The weird goth kid in your neighborhood who likes to walk around at night is not a cryptid, but may be mistaken for one.
Cryptozoology is a science, and barely a hundred years ago was just part of zoology. It's really only been separated out as its own thing as mainstream zoology got to a point of knowing and understanding enough about the animals in our world that most people both in and out of the scientific community generally feel like We Know What Animals There Are.
There's a certain amount of human arrogance reflected in that, and the fact that new species are discovered every year is proof that it's not really true.
The nature of cryptozoology is that it exists at the crossroads of zoology, sociology, and the study of oral tradition, because so much of it boils down to "hey, the locals say there's a animal around here." But that doesn't mean it should not be treated like a real science, held to standards of scientific rigor, and respected as a field of research.
When tumblr spoopy aesthetic types take to calling every creepy critter they hear of or invent "cryptids", it contributes to the damaging image of cryptozoology as woo-woo bullshit that only gullible nutcases believe in, and it pisses me off.
I am someone who loves the parasciences as sciences. I'm fascinated by the edges of our understanding of the the world around us and am excited by our attempts to reach past those edges and learn a little more, but I believe that must be gone about in a way that builds on the foundations of understanding we already have, rather than treating serious scientific inquiry like a roadblock getting in the way of our fun. So I fucking hate the woo-woo shit and the people who push the woo-woo shit. There is so much room to be excited and interested and to explore in the realm of the unexplained and little-understood without acting like gullible moron, and lord knows we've got too many gullible morons around anyway. Just look at the state of politics.
I genuinely believe it is vital to humanity's future and our health as a society for us all to approach the world with both an open mind and a healthy degree of skepticism. To be curious about how things work, and to question, to dig into things that don't quite make sense or that seem too good to be true. To think critiaclly.
Every fucking time people call goodamn jackalopes cryptids, they are directly working in opposition to that.
I will never be fucking chill about this.
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🎭 We have to make that distinction between character and actor at the end of the day 🎭
… when you are reading X (formerly known as Twitter) and you come across a short, simple sentence, without any artificial, pretentious mannerisms...

Who is an intimacy coordinator? Someone who asks you if you're okay while you're shooting a sex scene. To which Jennifer Aniston replies: Please, this is awkward enough! We're experienced, we can handle it. 👀👀👀
Reading such a simple sentence, it is hard not to be in awe that an experienced actress can have such a straightforward, natural approach to the filming of sex scenes.
This is probably because Jennifer Aniston sees sex scenes as part of her job and doesn't make a big philosophy out of it. She acts. She finishes her work. She goes home and collects a handsome salary. Meanwhile, in the world of Outlander… do you remember how the hiring of Vanessa Coffey as IC was justified? ❓
My archive remembers: it was an article published on Digital Spy on 15 March 2022.


My favourite part of the article was:
I don't want to add any more sentences here about separating the sex life of a character from the sex life of the actor. In the end, I'm happy to learn from the article that Sam and Caitriona no longer want to show their sex life on screen, and that's it.
What is fascinating, however, is the statement that all the finesse of the intimacy coordinator's work comes down to making choices based on character, not on what we might personally bring into the room from our own lives.
It has always seemed to me that the actor's construction of a stage character is about giving that character a part of themselves.
The point is that you always bring your own emotions, intellect, spirit and life experience to a role. Actors interpret every script, every character, every scene through their own emotional lens that's been shaped by their particular life story and background. That's what makes each actor unique.
But on the Outalander set it doesn't work. I mean, we know it worked (it did), we see it worked, but they are now telling us: basta. Finito.

You know, they don't kiss anymore. They don't know how to kiss. They're clearly showing us that they don't know how to kiss (they don't know how to kiss, so they're not in a relationship, it's more than obvious, isn't it?). They put their mouths together and suck, mouth closed.
That is how we know they are not in a relationship. Could they be any more obvious?
Well, he can:
🤪
Source:
[December 12, 2023]
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wait can i ask what your undergrad and masters were (sweats in about to move back to the uk to do a masters program) and what made them difficult
rambling about uni under the cut!!
i did history undergrad and comparative social policy for my masters! the thing that made my undergrad difficult is just that i went to cambridge for it and the workload is extremely demanding for undergraduates, much moreso than for masters students (i did my masters at oxford and i know for a fact i was doing much less work than undergrads were!!)
so for undergrad what made it difficult: we had a 2000-2500 word essay due every week which professors expected you to read a minimum of 10-15 sources (chapters in books/essays) for, depending on the professor! (this is in addition to hundreds of pages of assigned reading for different classes) and then once you submitted your essay you'd have to go and have a one-to-one hour long discussion with the professor about your essay and defend your argument to someone who was very often a leading expert in their field, and watch and listen and nod as they shredded your argument to pieces... every week... for three years.
side anecdote: once i spent an entire essay absolutely BLASTING this one author for his take on a certain subject. i think i literally called him a misogynist in my essay. and when i sat down to discuss it with my professor she looked me dead in the eyes and said 'so i see you didn't enjoy my husband's book?' i am dying just thinking about it
so yeah undergrad was very tough and it's designed to be that way - oxbridge has an extremely 'sink or swim' attitude to education when it comes to their undergrads and they're very much of the opinion that if you can't cope with the workload, oxbridge isn't for you and you should leave and go somewhere else. i know several people who did! like they literally tell you that they make the kitchens cramped and uncomfortable to use in order to force students to buy dinner from their colleges and have more time for studying. lol
as for my masters, i found it MUCH easier to balance work and life! i didn't find the subject matter that much more challenging than my undergrad and in general i found that there was a much less demanding workload. probably because the course is only a year and is basically oriented around you writing your thesis! so i only had 2 essays to submit the whole year, and then weekly reading for seminars and lectures.
but i also found that i had to do less weekly reading than i was doing in my undergrad, because they expect you to be doing more in your free time to focus on your thesis and the classes are more of a framework for that. this is also HIGHLY dependent on where you go for your masters - oxford is still a pretty heavy workload for a uk masters. lots of my friends who did masters degrees elsewhere had a comparatively very chill time and a lesser courseload than i did, and i didn't even feel overworked! it always felt very manageable and a lot more adult
sorry i rambled a LOT but either way. i think you'll have an amazing time during your masters and please feel free to ask me any questions about masters in the uk etc, i'll try my best to answer them if i can!! <33
#ask#INSANELY LONG RAMBLE#girl who needs therapy to address what 3 years at uni did to her already volatile psyche
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Do you have any advice or specific tips to writing a low/no empathy character? Or a resource to recommend?
Hi nonny! Thanks for asking! I'm going to try my best to answer your question, but keep in mind, this is all based on my own personal experience, and that varies vastly from person to person. (if anyone else experiences low/no empathy, please feel free to add on to this post!)
So, some things to keep in mind:
Why does your character experience low/no empathy? For me, it's a symptom of my autism, but there are multiple reasons a character could have low/no empathy. The most common is probably going to be some form of disability (autism), or disorder (psychopathy), etc. (Be careful while doing research though, especially on disorders like psychopathy! You're going to run into a lot of ableist bullshit. Make sure to look for sources written by people living with these disorders/disabilities.) (If anyone has any resources on other disabilities or disorders that cause low empathy that they personally recommend, please feel free to add links!!!) Whatever the reason, it's not going to only affect their empathy. It's going to affect every part of their life. So make sure to do your research, and write respectfully. If you know someone or follow someone who has a certain condition, ask if they'd feel comfortable answering questions for you. If they aren't, that's fine. If they are, they're going to be a great resource. (I'd also recommend getting a sensitivity reader, particularly when writing about mental disorders that are already frequently stigmatized. You want to make sure you're not promoting harmful stereotypes.) I should note, however, that neurotypical people can also have low/no empathy!!! It just happens to also be a common symptom of various mental disorders.
Consider what kind of empathy does your character lack. There are two kinds of empathy! Emotional (or affective) empathy, and cognitive empathy. Affective empathy is made up of three parts: Feeling the same emotion as someone else, feeling discomfort or stress in response to someone else's suffering, and feeling compassion for or understanding another's emotions. Cognitive empathy is the ability to recognize and understand the emotions of someone else. This includes being to "stand in someone else's shoes", or take another person's perspective, and generally understand what they're feeling. This one has been called more of a "skill", in that it's something people can "learn", where as affective empathy can't be taught or learned. When people talk about having low/no empathy, they are usually referring to lacking affective empathy, but a character might struggle with both!
Not everyone experiences empathy the same. Some people lack empathy in some circumstances, but have it in others. For example, I lack empathy when it comes to human beings, but I am much more empathetic when it comes to animals. A character might only be able to empathize with very specific scenarios or people. (For example, if someone else is going through a very similar scenario to one they have experienced in the past, it may be easier for them to feel empathy. But it might not!) Some people can empathize with certain emotions better than others. (I empathize better with anger, but can't empathize at all with grief.)
Understand that a lack of empathy does not equal a lack of caring. Just because a person doesn't feel the emotions someone else is feeling doesn't mean they don't care. A person with low or no empathy can still be kind and compassionate to others. They might go about trying to cheer people up in a slightly different way (I personally tend to try and go for distractions), but they still care about their friends and loved ones. Even seemingly "uncaring" things said by those who lack empathy do not come from a place of malice. (I can't tell you how many times I've said something well-meaning and had people assume I was being cruel. I wasn't, and I genuinely had good intentions.)
Keep in mind how your character reacts to other's emotions. People with empathy tend to feel similarly to those they empathize with, which generally creates a feeling of connection. (This is part of what leads to that sense of "coming together after tragedy".) A person with low/no empathy might instead feel alienated or uncomfortable when faced with large outpourings of emotions. They might be uncertain how to act or what to do, and they may try and avoid situations with strong negative emotions because of it. (In my case, people crying makes me very uncomfortable, because I don't know how to respond. So I try and keep my distance.)
Think about how your character processes their own emotions. Just because a character doesn't feel empathy for others doesn't mean that they are incapable of feeling those emotions on their own. A character who has no empathy for a grieving friend can still grieve! But chances are they will process that emotion differently than a person with "normal" empathy. They might try to push their emotions away and bottle them up. Or one emotion might transition into one they have an easier time processing. (For me, I don't experience sadness normally. It either transitions to anger, or it is replaced by different thoughts.)
Think about how their lack of empathy influences their life. A person who lacks empathy is not going to experience life the same way as a person with "normal" empathy. They might have a hard time making friends, or they might excel at a job that requires a logical mind. They might give great advice, or their friends might know to never ask them about relationships. They might be great at organizing people, even in times of stress, because their brain compartmentalizes and thinks pragmatically. They might totally shut down when faced with an emotional situation because they don't know how to process it.
Having no empathy can be very alienating. People expect empathy constantly. It's a big part of why people love emotional media, and it's the expected response when someone you know experiences suffering. Not having empathy can mean that you feel disconnected from your loved ones or community as a whole. It might mean biting your tongue and not saying what you think because people would read it as uncaring or cruel.
Remember: Having low or no empathy is not a bad thing. People with low/no empathy are often villainized in media, and the trait is often given to antagonists. But that's a harmful stereotype and harmful belief in general. That's not saying that your character with low empathy has to be "good", but don't use their low empathy as proof that they're a "bad person". Try thinking about situations in which having low/no empathy might be useful! I personally am reminded of the post I saw years ago where someone was saying that if not for their lack of empathy, they probably couldn't do their job. (iirc, they worked handling the bodies of organ donors, some of whom were quite young.)
Okay, that's all I can think of for now, but like I said before, anyone else who experiences low or no empathy is encouraged to reblog this post and add on to it! And if I made any mistakes here, please let me know so I can fix them!!! I tried to base this mostly off of my own experience, so take it all with a grain of salt.
#Anonymous#morrigan replies#writing autistic characters#writing low empathy characters#writing no empathy characters#character development#character inspo#no empathy#low empathy
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