#this is not a hate post just in case anyone takes it that way but more of an observation

[loveguts]

i’m not a transandrophobia truther in the slightest don’t get me wrong, but i think some people on here really need to realize and comprehend the fact that cis women, way WAY more often than not, hold extremely significant social and political power over trans men the vast majority of the time in our day to day lives

[blackvahana]

i am really never going to understand why people post "shifting antis dni" in the astral projection tag. "here practice that constantly gets appropriated by us and used as a weird justification for a new set of beliefs that aren't really based in the same reality you work with, and that also gets completely misunderstood by our community because we don't care to understand what you do and just pretend we know it's what we do like christians saying other religions worship the christian god, have a post! Also dni if you don't like our practice that has nothing to do with the one whose tag we just shoved this into"

if you're not astral projecting don't put shit in the ap tag. if you don't even know the difference between AP and RS I dont think your opinion holds enough weight to counter the pushback against flooding a separate practice's tag with "if you dont like the practice I'm talking about in your tags dni"

[peachbun03]

Okay wait I just had this sudden thought about Sam from Danny Phantom about how there is that contradiction of her being from one of the most wealthy families in Amity Park which allows her to afford eco friendly alternatives and how she doesn't really fight for fixing the root of the problem for the things she protests but fights at more of a surface maybe even superficial level and how that also comes into play when she tries to force that lifestyle onto other people, like idk if I worded this in a way that makes sense but that like came to me like yesterday

(I know it's a cartoon by Butch Hartman but I couldn't help but realize that)

[cozza-frenzy]

"you prioritize your discomfort over their autonomy and right to exist safely in a space without having their private interests excavated and recontextualized to make them out to be predators" You'd be surprised how often this happens - Blitz

being neutral about other peoples kinks is necessary by the way. when consenting adults are doing things between consenting adults, and you prioritize your discomfort over their autonomy and right to exist safely in a space without having their private interests excavated and recontextualized to make them out to be predators, that says way more about your willingness to place yourself in the position of moral authority than it does about them and you deputizing yourself on the basis of nothing but vibes and your personal traumas makes you very dangerous politically.

[asgardian--angels]

Planet's Fucked: What Can You Do To Help? (Long Post)

Since nobody is talking about the existential threat to the climate and the environment a second Trump term/Republican government control will cause, which to me supersedes literally every other issue, I wanted to just say my two cents, and some things you can do to help. I am a conservation biologist, whose field was hit substantially by the first Trump presidency. I study wild bees, birds, and plants.

In case anyone forgot what he did last time, he gagged scientists' ability to talk about climate change, he tried zeroing budgets for agencies like the NOAA, he attempted to gut protections in the Endangered Species Act (mainly by redefining 'take' in a way that would allow corporations to destroy habitat of imperiled species with no ramifications), he tried to do the same for the Migratory Bird Treaty Act (the law that offers official protection for native non-game birds), he sought to expand oil and coal extraction from federal protected lands, he shrunk the size of multiple national preserves, HE PULLED US OUT OF THE PARIS CLIMATE AGREEMENT, and more.

We are at a crucial tipping point in being able to slow the pace of climate change, where we decide what emissions scenario we will operate at, with existential consequences for both the environment and people. We are also in the middle of the Sixth Mass Extinction, with the rate of species extinctions far surpassing background rates due completely to human actions. What we do now will determine the fate of the environment for hundreds or thousands of years - from our ability to grow key food crops (goodbye corn belt! I hated you anyway but), to the pressure on coastal communities that will face the brunt of sea level rise and intensifying extreme weather events, to desertification, ocean acidification, wildfires, melting permafrost (yay, outbreaks of deadly frozen viruses!), and a breaking down of ecosystems and ecosystem services due to continued habitat loss and species declines, especially insect declines. The fact that the environment is clearly a low priority issue despite the very real existential threat to so many people, is beyond my ability to understand. I do partly blame the public education system for offering no mandatory environmental science curriculum or any at all in most places. What it means is that it will take the support of everyone who does care to make any amount of difference in this steeply uphill battle.

There are not enough environmental scientists to solve these issues, not if public support is not on our side and the majority of the general public is either uninformed or actively hostile towards climate science (or any conservation science).

So what can you, my fellow Americans, do to help mitigate and minimize the inevitable damage that lay ahead?

I'm not going to tell you to recycle more or take shorter showers. I'll be honest, that stuff is a drop in the bucket. What does matter on the individual level is restoring and protecting habitat, reducing threats to at-risk species, reducing pesticide use, improving agricultural practices, and pushing for policy changes. Restoring CONNECTIVITY to our landscape - corridors of contiguous habitat - will make all the difference for wildlife to be able to survive a changing climate and continued human population expansion.

**Caveat that I work in the northeast with pollinators and birds so I cannot provide specific organizations for some topics, including climate change focused NGOs. Scientists on tumblr who specialize in other fields, please add your own recommended resources. **

We need two things: FUNDING and MANPOWER.

You may surprised to find that an insane amount of conservation work is carried out by volunteers. We don't ever have the funds to pay most of the people who want to help. If you really really care, consider going into a conservation-related field as a career. It's rewarding, passionate work.

At the national level, please support:

The Nature Conservancy

Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation

Cornell Lab of Ornithology (including eBird)

National Audubon Society

Federal Duck Stamps (you don't need to be a hunter to buy one!)

These first four work to acquire and restore critical habitat, change environmental policy, and educate the public. There is almost certainly a Nature Conservancy-owned property within driving distance of you. Xerces plays a very large role in pollinator conservation, including sustainable agriculture, native bee monitoring programs, and the Bee City/Bee Campus USA programs. The Lab of O is one of the world's leaders in bird research and conservation. Audubon focuses on bird conservation. You can get annual memberships to these organizations and receive cool swag and/or a subscription to their publications which are well worth it. You can also volunteer your time; we need thousands of volunteers to do everything from conducting wildlife surveys, invasive species removal, providing outreach programming, managing habitat/clearing trails, planting trees, you name it. Federal Duck Stamps are the major revenue for wetland conservation; hunters need to buy them to hunt waterfowl but anyone can get them to collect!

THERE ARE DEFINITELY MORE, but these are a start.

Additionally, any federal or local organizations that seek to provide support and relief to those affected by hurricanes, sea level rise, any form of coastal climate change...

At the regional level:

These are a list of topics that affect major regions of the United States. Since I do not work in most of these areas I don't feel confident recommending specific organizations, but please seek resources relating to these as they are likely major conservation issues near you.

PRAIRIE CONSERVATION & PRAIRIE POTHOLE WETLANDS

DRYING OF THE COLORADO RIVER (good overview video linked)

PROTECTION OF ESTUARIES AND SALTMARSH, ESPECIALLY IN THE DELAWARE BAY AND LONG ISLAND (and mangroves further south, everglades etc; this includes restoring LIVING SHORELINES instead of concrete storm walls; also check out the likely-soon extinction of saltmarsh sparrows)

UNDAMMING MAJOR RIVERS (not just the Colorado; restoring salmon runs, restoring historic floodplains)

NATIVE POLLINATOR DECLINES (NOT honeybees. for fuck's sake. honeybees are non-native domesticated animals. don't you DARE get honeybee hives to 'save the bees')

WILDLIFE ALONG THE SOUTHERN BORDER (support the Mission Butterfly Center!)

INVASIVE PLANT AND ANIMAL SPECIES (this is everywhere but the specifics will differ regionally, dear lord please help Hawaii)

LOSS OF WETLANDS NATIONWIDE (some states have lost over 90% of their wetlands, I'm looking at you California, Ohio, Illinois)

INDUSTRIAL AGRICULTURE, esp in the CORN BELT and CALIFORNIA - this is an issue much bigger than each of us, but we can work incrementally to promote sustainable practices and create habitat in farmland-dominated areas. Support small, local farms, especially those that use soil regenerative practices, no-till agriculture, no pesticides/Integrated Pest Management/no neonicotinoids/at least non-persistent pesticides. We need more farmers enrolling in NRCS programs to put farmland in temporary or permanent wetland easements, or to rent the land for a 30-year solar farm cycle. We've lost over 99% of our prairies to corn and soybeans. Let's not make it 100%.

INDIGENOUS LAND-BACK EFFORTS/INDIGENOUS LAND MANAGEMENT/TEK (adding this because there have been increasing efforts not just for reparations but to also allow indigenous communities to steward and manage lands either fully independently or alongside western science, and it would have great benefits for both people and the land; I know others on here could speak much more on this. Please platform indigenous voices)

HARMFUL ALGAL BLOOMS (get your neighbors to stop dumping fertilizers on their lawn next to lakes, reduce agricultural runoff)

OCEAN PLASTIC (it's not straws, it's mostly commercial fishing line/trawling equipment and microplastics)

A lot of these are interconnected. And of course not a complete list.

At the state and local level:

You probably have the most power to make change at the local level!

Support or volunteer at your local nature centers, local/state land conservancy non-profits (find out who owns&manages the preserves you like to hike at!), state fish & game dept/non-game program, local Audubon chapters (they do a LOT). Participate in a Christmas Bird Count!

Join local garden clubs, which install and maintain town plantings - encourage them to use NATIVE plants. Join a community garden!

Get your college campus or city/town certified in the Bee Campus USA/Bee City USA programs from the Xerces Society

Check out your state's official plant nursery, forest society, natural heritage program, anything that you could become a member of, get plants from, or volunteer at.

Volunteer to be part of your town's conservation commission, which makes decisions about land management and funding

Attend classes or volunteer with your land grant university's cooperative extension (including master gardener programs)

Literally any volunteer effort aimed at improving the local environment, whether that's picking up litter, pulling invasive plants, installing a local garden, planting trees in a city park, ANYTHING. make a positive change in your own sphere. learn the local issues affecting your nearby ecosystems. I guarantee some lake or river nearby is polluted

MAKE HABITAT IN YOUR COMMUNITY. Biggest thing you can do. Use plants native to your area in your yard or garden. Ditch your lawn. Don't use pesticides (including mosquito spraying, tick spraying, Roundup, etc). Don't use fertilizers that will run off into drinking water. Leave the leaves in your yard. Get your school/college to plant native gardens. Plant native trees (most trees planted in yards are not native). Remove invasive plants in your yard.

On this last point, HERE ARE EASY ONLINE RESOURCES TO FIND NATIVE PLANTS and LEARN ABOUT NATIVE GARDENING:

Xerces Society Pollinator Conservation Resource Center

Pollinator Pathway

Audubon Native Plant Finder

Homegrown National Park (and Doug Tallamy's other books)

National Wildlife Federation Native Plant Finder (clunky but somewhat helpful)

Heather Holm (for prairie/midwest/northeast)

MonarchGard w/ Benjamin Vogt (for prairie/midwest)

Native Plant Trust (northeast & mid-atlantic)

Grow Native Massachusetts (northeast)

Habitat Gardening in Central New York (northeast)

There are many more - I'm not familiar with resources for western states. Print books are your biggest friend. Happy to provide a list of those.

Lastly, you can help scientists monitor species using citizen science. Contribute to iNaturalist, eBird, Bumblebee Watch, or any number of more geographically or taxonomically targeted programs (for instance, our state has a butterfly census carried out by citizen volunteers).

In short? Get curious, get educated, get involved. Notice your local nature, find out how it's threatened, and find out who's working to protect it that you can help with. The health of the planet, including our resilience to climate change, is determined by small local efforts to maintain and restore habitat. That is how we survive this. When government funding won't come, when we're beat back at every turn trying to get policy changed, it comes down to each individual person creating a safe refuge for nature.

Thanks for reading this far. Please feel free to add your own credible resources and organizations.

[januaryembrs]

YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶

Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)

warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.

authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship

There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted. 

He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck. 

Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?

Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin. 

He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again. 

They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest. 

“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him. 

Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.

They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene. 

She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been. 

Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men. 

They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.

Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to. 

Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions. 

“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,” 

They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently. 

Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face. 

He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet. 

“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”

They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”

“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”

His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry. 

“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.” 

She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage. 

“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,” 

“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him. 

She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them. 

“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”

The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob. 

“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”

Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand. 

“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter. 

Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights. 

Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible. 

His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was. 

Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed. 

“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him. 

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands. 

“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,” 

“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”

She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip. 

“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”

He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. 

He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in. 

Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years. 

“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”

And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.

—

She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe. 

She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe. 

It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second. 

“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing. 

But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late. 

“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them. 

She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed. 

“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”

“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new. 

“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”

But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them. 

Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them. 

He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently. 

“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”

She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands. 

“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt. 

His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building. 

Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him. 

–

She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’

She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use. 

He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard. 

They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign. 

He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?” 

She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,” 

And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes. 

Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested. 

But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again. 

It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible. 

He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything). 

The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright. 

He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet. 

“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance. 

She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock. 

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,” 

“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,” 

 “I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing. 

And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin. 

Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down. 

“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?” 

She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised. 

“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point. 

Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”

 “Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,” 

She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”

His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion. 

She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.

“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”

His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise. 

“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off. 

She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him. 

“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.

“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,” 

She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”

He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”

She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again. 

“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his. 

Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,” 

Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all. 

But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him. 

She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”

Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though. 

[sincerlyus]

Reverse Falls!!

Soo this is my take on Reverse Falls!! I don't really know which are the original designs or which are the new personalities that each character adapts, so I made my own headcanons!! :3

It should be noted that there are characters who do not change personalities with anyone, but rather their personalities are more exaggerated or are opposite to the originals. Or (in the case of McGucket) their relationships are different so they change their way of being progressively.

EXPLANATION TIME:

This is quite long, I'm going to explain the personalities of each one and how they relate to various characters. Credits to: hours of daydreaming and Google Translate  (TW: child abuse, emotional and physical abuse, homophobia, classism. I don't know if there's anything else, just in case)

Pacifica Northwest: Outgoing and very expressive. She didn't know Gideon very well until her parents sent her to Reverse Falls. She likes to knit, draw, and has a lot of stuffed animals. She has a lot of hair, and likes to do different hairstyles every day ("to be innovative"), cries when she has to cut it. She is very affectionate with Gideon and tries to get him out of his shell. She is a little insecure, but likes to see the positive side of things. She gets along very well with Bud, although sometimes she feels he is a little weird. Symbol: Llama (on her sweater)

Gideon Gleefull: Insecure, has little self-confidence, very skittish and anxious. Has a habit of chewing when he is thinking, like OG!Dipper (chewing on pens, his shirt, etc.). He didn't really know how to talk to Paz at first since the first time they met they were very little, what was she going to say?, was a "Hello" enough?, a handshake?, a complicated handshake?, was she going to ignore him? Paz simply gave him a big hug when she got off the bus (+ gave him a sweater she made on the way). Symbol: Telepathy star (in his hat)

Bud Gleefull: Ultimate scammer. Very friendly and funny, although sometimes a little intimidating. Bye Hawaiian shirts. Very patient with Gideon. He is basically the “cool uncle/dad”. He put Paz to work the day she arrived, although he became attached very quickly and gave her family privileges (he does the same with Gideon).

Mason “Dipper” Pines: He is still very insecure but is able to feign confidence when standing on stage with his sister. He still has a lot of passion for science, he is not very affectionate, he holds back his emotions as he does not want to look vulnerable, especially in front of Stanford. He has a lot of respect for Ford (or rather, fear), being his apprentice he sees him more as a teacher, a superior figure than as an uncle; however he has very little respect for Stan, threatening him and making fun of him. He does not usually use his amulet much, only to practice tricks or in his shows. He has a very distant relationship with his sister, similar to that of the Stan twins. They have many disagreements, but they still have each other's back, especially when Ford is aggressive with one of them. The most sincere relationship he has is with F, although he still treats him like an employee, knowing that he was one of the brilliant minds behind the portal he respects him. Sometimes he discusses theories and shares discoveries with him (although he is embarrassed to think that his only "friend" is an employee of his uncle). Once he met Gideon and Paz, he was able to show his more fragile side and be himself, although he doesn't consider them completely friends (that changes post-weirdmageddon). Symbol: Pine tree (a small pin)

Mabel Pines: A spoiled brat, basically. She's very charming and friendly on stage and with guests at the Pines' many parties, but she's very whiny and selfish behind the scenes. She's not at all affectionate, to the point that she hates physical contact, especially if it's from townspeople. She resents her brother a lot for being Ford's "favorite" (he doesn't really have favorites, he's just less strict with Dipper because he's useful to him). She's Stan's spoiled child, giving her what she wants when she wants it (they have a nice relationship actually, Stan being one of the only ones who comforts her when she's sad). Instead of knitting, she likes to design her own dresses and accessories for shows and parties (her guilty pleasure is arts & crafts, since it's a very "childish" activity for a Pines). Obsessed with Paz, but learns to respect her limits throughout the story. Symbol: Shooting Star (a small pin)

Stanley Pines: He basically swaps personalities with Bud, runs the Telepathy Tent, is very friendly, and is scared of his brother and the twins. He never gets involved in Ford's experiments, having a very tense relationship with him. He loves the twins very much but knowing the power they have with those amulets he prefers to go along with them and not question too much what they ask (he knows when to be firm but the one who really has an impact on them and can make them see reason is Ford). Symbol: Oyster(?? (on a necklace)

Stanford F. Pines: Did you think OG! Ford was a jerk? Well now he's twice as much! He doesn't have an ounce of empathy in him, he's very narcissistic and only cares about his projects and his image. He doesn't care at all about the twins, only seeing them as a way to make money, demanding the most out of them, and he doesn't hesitate to use violence if any of them get out of line. He's very distant with Stanley, speaking to him very dryly (or rather, barely speaking to him at all). He's almost a hermit, living in his laboratory, not letting the townspeople get to know him; although unlike OG! Ford, he cares a lot about how he presents himself in front of the public, taking care of his image and clothing. He's very demanding with Mabel, as he feels she's nothing more than a spoiled child, the image of the Telepathy Tent along with her brother. He is a bit kinder to Dipper, as he realizes that he has a brilliant mind for his age (though not more so than his own), so he includes him in many of his experiments and research if he proves useful; but excluding that, he is just as insensitive as he is with his twin, mistreating him if he does not comply with what is due. His relationship with McGucket is kinda weird: although they were friends in college, the power that Bill/Will offered him completely consumed him, being abusive to F, forcing him to work long nights, keeping him awake by force. He only sees him for his use: his great skill with mechanics (which Ford does not have, although he hates to mention it). Although he was in love with F while he was at Backupsmore, he currently has no romantic feelings towards him, considering him an employee, his assistant, nothing more. He has internalized homophobia (a gift from Filbrick) and classism, so he hates to remember when his relationship with F was one of equals, friends. It disgusts him to think about when he would get so emotional around him. Symbol: Six Fingered Hand (the diaries)

Fiddleford H. McGucket: He is still the brilliant mind he was in his youth, but stress eats him alive. He started to age very quickly thanks to it. He invented the memory gun to try to forget all the horrible things he witnessed or that Ford made him suffer, but his boss doesn't allow him to use it too much since it can damage his mental health and erase knowledge, making him less efficient and useful. He doesn't have a very deep relationship with Stanley, since he practically lives in the lab where Ford forces him to work, but they are able to talk whenever F has a break (almost never). He can't stand the twins too much, not only because he feels that they are very annoying, but because the simple presence of children in his day to day life reminds him a lot of Tate, with whom he no longer has contact. Everyone knows about the abusive relationship he has with Stanford, they are not indifferent to it but they try not to mention it or get involved in his affairs (practically out of fear of Ford).  Throughout his stay with Stanford he started developing an emotional dependence on him: not only did he make him feel that he was useless without him, but he uses violence on him when he is not fulfilling his duty, causing F to blame himself when this happens (What did he do wrong? What can he do to improve?). This got to the point where he started to hurt himself when he did not do something right. Ex: hitting himself when he noticed that his leg was bouncing in front of his anxiety (something that bothers Ford a lot), pulling out clumps of hair in front of the stress of not being able to achieve something, biting his nails, scratching himself, hitting his head (imagine Dobby from HP). Such actions and the mixed feelings he had towards Ford, made him develop masochism, enjoying when he inflicts pain on himself and when he is the victim of Ford's physical and psychological abuse, he clearly hid this for a while since it would look very unprofessional on his part.  Eventually his boss found out and used this to his advantage, being quite sadist himself (he enjoys watching or inflicting pain and/or humiliation on others, in this case, he gets sexual pleasure). So every time Ford needs to let off some steam, vent his frustrations (or is just horny), he uses Fiddleford to fulfill his fantasies, making F's wishes come true as well. He basically uses him as a sex toy, and F doesn't complain, having suffered so much emotional manipulation, he even considers himself lucky that his boss wants to be with him like this, even if it's NOT healthy. Symbol: Spectacles

Bill Cipher: I don't like the idea of ​​changing his name, so Bill stays. He's still the same chaotic demon as in the original series, but this time he's been tricked by Ford into working for him and doing his bidding. He's also forced to do the twins' bidding. We already know that Bill can change his shape and color, so I think all of his shame and self-pity manifests itself in his appearance, turning blue over time (any strong emotion makes him change his appearance). He manipulates Gideon and Paz, making them feel sorry for him so they'll do his bidding (it doesn't work, clearly). The people he has the most contact with are Ford and Fiddleford, as they spend most of their time in the basement where he's locked up.

So that's it. I don't really know how this timeline would work, considering the portal and the journals, but I just wanted to have fun with the character designs and relationships (I feel like the weirdmageddon would happen sooner than in the original timeline). If you want me to go deeper into certain relationships or characters, let me know!!(≧▽≦) I'll see if I can go deeper into the relationship between Ford and Fiddleford that you guys liked so much (you guys really like toxic yaoi, huh??). I'm thinking of making a fanfic or smt to explain their day to day life in the lab and how Ford invited F to work with him (SPOILER: it didn't go well...).

That's it ig, LIKE AND SUSCRIBE!!!1!!1!Σ(°ロ°)

[uniiiquehecrt]

Hiya! 😘✨ Thank you so much for the addition! It's always a pleasure to see my THOR posts getting some love, and I appreciate your interaction with this and my other meta! :D I hope you don't mind if I respond in turn!

I feel I should point out that the original post was one meant to showcase simply that Thor is a smart, clever, serious and dynamic character. One that is a far cry from an idiot, and one that is certainly not a "himbo" or "jock" movie stereotype as Dir. Ta*ika Wai.ti/ti, his fans and many of the overall MCU!Avengers fandom (or outsiders to the fandom tbh.) tend to boil him down to.

Those claims are simply unsubstantiated, and grossly incorrect.

(And insulting to Thor and Thor fans. It is beyond irritating.)

The post you responded to and its subsequent replies are meant only to defend that original point, as what the replies it has been met with are usually some defense as to why some MCU fans think it is okay to mischaracterize, and ultimately insult a beloved character and his fans to such a demeaning degree.

As it stands, there is no excuse to mischaracterize Thor's intelligence and integrity as a hero, king/prince, leader, and Avenger. In general. And certainly not even within the text of his own canon appearances. Hence: why the post points out where the definition is unequivocally incorrect. So, while I of course am always delighted by friendly debate on the matter, I do fear that any commentary that continues to debate with me the validity of "why" people call one brother dumb and the other smart is ... entirely missing the point. There is no excuse for that. Period. it is mean-spirited, and fans of Thor are entirely allowed and within their right to point this out, and defend the matter.

As it stands, what you are getting at is another subject matter entirely, and while I do not want this discussion to override the original post and its intentions, I do feel this is worth addressing. Especially since ... you are correct only in that this is a common point of contention in the Thor franchise's fandom.

I want to preface by saying this: I am a brodinsons fan. While I do love and value Thor quite deeply, I also love and appreciate Loki. I always have. I love his arc throughout the MCU (phases 1-3), and I've always found him to be an interesting, dynamic character. ...Within his canon, anyways.

That said: there are a lot of "Loki Fans" out there that, as the original replied-tags said, and as you continue to say, feel the need to tear Thor down to build Loki up.

I simply do not agree with this line of thought. Nor do I see it as an understandable justification.

To be entirely frank with you, my friend, my personal perspective is this: if diehard Loki fans feel the need to tear another character down just to feel justified and/or build their own favorite character up, then I would imagine that they don't have any confidence in Loki's abilities in the first place. And that is a shame. I don't understand that either.

saying they’re equal in this area really just means there’s nothing loki excels past Thor at

Off the top of my head, without looking at movie reference, here are seven interesting/cool things that Loki does on his own credentials:

Mastered Asgardian Sorcery as a Frost Giant, to the point of being known as the greatest Sorcerer in all of Asgard.

Mastered a loose capacity of "Bifrost" magic, thus finding found pathways between worlds, and being able to glamour himself from Heimdall's all-seeing eyes.

Mastered wielding the Destroyer, Gungnir, the Casket of Eternal Winters all with no on-screen training.

Is known to have a silvertongue, and uses his wits and guile to get in and out of most situations.

Wielded two infinity stones at the same time.

Mastered the ice pick grip with his daggers, and can defeat 4 opponents in quick succession while surrounded.

Enchanted Odin All-Father for 4 years.

As you can see, at no point did I have to bring up Thor, or tear down his intelligence and feats to praise Loki's. Nor did it at all "sting" to do so.

I'm actually quite proud of him, and to that end, I will point out that not only is Thor, as you said, one of the few who do not see Loki as inferior to himself, but he is also very much aware of his brother's strengths, and actively goes out of his way to utilize, and otherwise work in tandem with Loki's skills.

Thor allows Loki to (initially) spearhead efforts to convince Heimdall to let himself and the Warriors get to Jotunheim. (He only stops Loki when Heimdall makes it clear that Loki's lies won't work.) / THOR (2011)

Thor believes in Loki and their brotherhood so much that he was going to ask Loki (if not outright asks him) to "find a way" to stop the Asgardian/Jotunheim war and find a loophole to bring Thor home to Asgard after his banishment. / THOR (2011)

Thor seeks Loki out to break free from Asgard during lockdown. / THOR: THE DARK WORLD (2013)

Thor actively works alongside Loki's illusions and trusts him to keep his word in their combined effort to destroy the Aether on Svartalfheim. / THOR: THE DARK WORLD (2013)

Thor actively tries to ask Loki for help when he is abducted in Sakaar, and seeks his help in finding a ship to leave the planet. / THOR: RAGNAROK (2017)

Thor actively utilizes Loki's speed, quick-thinking and single minded ambition to raise Surtur on Asgard. / THOR: RAGNAROK (2017)

There are definitely more examples, but these are the ones I can easily reference off the top of my head.

For a character whose main storyline revolves around his angst and heartbreak over desperately wanting to be equal to Thor and always coming up short…. Yeah it just feels a little cold to point out the obvious.

Barring the fact that the "obvious" in question is quite literally just myself pointing out, and I quote: "Loki can't easily outwit Thor either." (I would recommend that you do please read the post again), it is hardly "cold" to do so. It is an objective truth. He cannot easily outwit Thor. They grew up together. Thor knows him better than anyone else, and he certainly knows when Loki is lying to him. Especially when Loki has done nothing but lie and betray him throughout the course of THOR, AVENGERS, and DARK WORLD. It is unfortunate that Thor learned that Loki would turn against him, but it is an unfortunate truth that Thor grew to contend with, and had begun to respond to by becoming justifiably wary of him.

A huge part of Loki’s character is that he’s seen as, [...] Thor’s second fiddle.

I'll touch more on the rest of this point of yours below, but to this end: I disagree with your implication that this makes Loki unimportant. First of all, the second fiddle is a supporting role, and that can be an incredibly integral part. (See: the above six points of Thor actively seeking Loki out, for context.) In an orchestra at least (something I have personal experience with), the second chair violin is not any less important than the first chair violins just because second chair doesn't necessarily always get to play the melody. (Also, usually the melody switches between the entire orchestra, so to say that the second violins don't get a chance to shine alongside the group is false. Yes, this metaphor applies to Loki.)

Secondly, Loki is not a joke to Thor or to anyone else in their universe anyways.

You say that the Warriors only like Thor better, but within the context of the overall discussion, it sounds more like the implication is a misunderstanding that the Warriors wholly dislike him. I don't want to put words into your mouth, so let us presumptively agree that there is at least a presumptive claim within the overall Loki fanbase that this may have been the case. (Being that the Warriors dislike or were not friends with Loki.) I would disagree with that sentiment either way. Or at least I would before Loki's (perceived) insurrection of the throne, followed by Thor's death (the Destroyer), and his attack on Earth (New Mexico and New York), — all of which are very unlikeable things by the way. But I digress on that point to point out what you do neglect to admit overall: the Warriors would not have been concerned about Loki's betrayal if they were not fully aware of, and hold an equal amount of respect for Loki's guile and capabilities.

If they did not first consider him a powerful ally, then they would not consider him a powerful, potential enemy.

And so, to then justify this ... rather envious lens to such retrospection, the stated:

Loki [...] feels like Thor's second fiddle. [...] For a character whose main storyline revolves around his angst and heartbreak over desperately wanting to be equal to Thor and always coming up short [...]

Also falls flat to me.

Just because Loki feels this way does not mean it is true. People - and especially characters - can wholeheartedly believe something that is entirely a misunderstanding or a fabrication. The feeling may be a valid one, but that does not make it correct in any capacity.

When Loki says "I only ever wanted to be your equal!", he means that he wanted to work alongside Thor. He also means that he wanted to be as beloved/popular as Thor.

But if Loki stopped focusing on Thor and what Thor can do that Loki cannot, Loki would find that he was liked by the people he thought dislike him, is capable of a great many things that are unique to himself, and that all of these skills work in tandem with and in favor of Thor, and thus make Loki Thor's equal already. He would also find that Thor has already known this, and has always acted upon this. In this matter, Thor's greatest shortcoming has only ever been that he simply thought this was an obvious fact that Loki already knew. (Note: "greatest", not "only". His impulsive and short temper are flaws too.)

More than that: Loki and Thor are allies and brothers who love one another fiercely. To pit one against the other is entirely a fool's errand, and frankly the entire point of their story in the MCU. They are better together. Tearing them apart only causes misery for themselves and others.

Lastly, I would like to end my part of the discussion by pointing out one thing.

Thor beats him in every category. The only thing Loki fans really have to cling to is Loki’s undeniable cleverness.

Let's ignore the fact that I brought up seven things that can be pointed to in Loki's favor.

I simply do not see why it is that Loki needs to have anything to "beat" Thor in, in the first place. Truly, I cannot understand the logic behind a sentiment like that. Why should Loki be compared to anyone else other than himself and his own actions? And why should Thor and Thor fans be made to feel badly about Thor's own strengths?

They are two completely different people with different strengths and weaknesses. One is street-smart (Thor) and the other is book-smart (Loki), and there are times and places for either one of those strengths to shine.

So when you say:

Loki [...] is Thor's second fiddle.

Whether or not Loki is capable of the same sheer amount of powerful destruction as Thor is entirely besides the point in any discussion about either Loki or Thor. Thor is a royal Asgardian. He far surpasses every normal Asgardian and any "mortal" aliens, like humans. Even superpowered humans. In the MCU, Thor is on par with other aliens like Thanos (a Titan). His only rivals are the other royal Asgardians who wielded parts of the All-Force that now only he wields. They were both incredibly strong, and now they're both dead. And the kicker is that Thor is still growing.

So, at no point has anyone expected Loki to output the same amount of sheer might as Thor. (If anything they only seem to judge him based on their culture's view of honor and glory. Something that Loki does not adhere to in the same way as the rest of them, but something that Thor constantly learns and grows to appreciate about him.)

Not to again mention that they are two completely different alien species. Not only that, but again, Thor in particular is a special breed of said different alien species. Yet Loki still manages to keep up with Thor in almost every capacity. Something that not even the Warriors can do.

Thor has super-strength? So does Loki. Thor is as quick as lightning? Loki is even faster. Thor has the All-Force? Loki mastered sorcery and some bifrost magic. Thor is a tank and an aggressive first and last line of defense? Loki makes himself Thor's perfect ace up his sleeve for when things go awry. Thor is a capable commander? Loki can think outside of the box. Thor has the strength of every imaginable storm at his fingertips? Loki knows exactly what to say and what to do to bridle it when Thor's impulsiveness gets the better of him, or otherwise add to the chaos.

Loki is Thor's equal and he always has been. They were meant to rule together, and for a very good reason.

Were I to say anything to the Loki fans who feel this way, it would be this:

Your love of your character, and your pride in his feats are already valid just by having them. You do not need to look to outside sources for "justification" in why you love him. Nor why you may favor him over Thor. Just as Thor may simply be to one fan's taste more so than Loki or one of the other Avengers, so too can Loki simply be your favorite without any other pretense to it, and I promise you that is a perfectly fine enough reason on its own. He's a complex character, a fantastic villain and anti-hero, and, yes, he is capable of great things. At no point do you need to be envious of Thor or any other character just because of what Loki can or cannot do.

Do not do your own favorite a disservice by comparing him to anyone other than himself.

But if you insist on comparing Loki to anyone else, then I would implore you to start thinking less about what Loki cannot do that Thor can do, and more about what Loki can do that nobody else can BECAUSE he can do it standing alongside Thor in the first place.

If Thor is the "golden standard", and Loki is his equal and opposite force, then it is far more intriguing to consider, then, all of the many ways in which Loki can define himself and surpass nigh any obstacle simply because he is the brother of Thor.

You’re absolutely 100% correct about all of this, but I feel like just adding perspective on why people so often fall into the trap of ‘Loki smart, Thor dumb’.

Listen. A huge part of Loki’s character is that he’s seen as, feels, and is Thor’s second fiddle. Through no fault of Thor’s own (ok maybe a tiny bit of fault with the “know your place” line etc in Thor 1. Oop.)- in fact I think Thor is one of the few people in Asgard that doesn’t necessarily see Loki as inferior to himself. But like it or not, Loki is inferior to him.

He’s physically weaker (not by a lot, but still), he’s far less popular with the asgardian people, their friend group likes him way less, and even their father clearly favors Thor. Even as far as magic is concerned- the one area that’s always seen as Loki’s thing- well…. to be honest, up until the series, Thor’s magical feats have been waaay more impressive than Loki’s. Thor beats him in every category. The only thing Loki fans really have to cling to is Loki’s undeniable cleverness.

Like yes, of course Thor is also very intelligent, and of course he’s very cunning in his own right… but this is the only possible area where Loki might be a little better than him. And to have it pointed out that actually, canonically, Loki isn’t more clever than Thor. They are, in fact, equal… well that stings a little, you know?

Because saying they’re equal in this area really just means there’s nothing loki excels past Thor at. And for a character whose main storyline revolves around his angst and heartbreak over desperately wanting to be equal to Thor and always coming up short…. Yeah it just feels a little cold to point out the obvious.

That’s not to say you’re wrong! They really are pretty evenly matched smarts-wise and Thor definitely isn’t anywhere near as stupid as fans want him to be. I just think there’s a reason Loki fans are so vocal about him supposedly being the “smart one” lol.

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 | 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨

summary: nobody can keep up with your growing list of hobbies, except fernando.

pairing: fernando alonso x brazilian!fem!reader

content warning: fluff and humor. explicit language.

from, serene: requested by and written for @loomiscorpse 🤍 i promised that i would write this for you in july and i finally found the time to fulfill it! this is how i learned fernando has a back tat. what rock have i been living under? happy reading, babes xxx

(in case i'm m.i.a., there's a category 5 hurricane that's looks pretty serious. i'm probably going to have a power outage. prayers to anyone else in the path of the storm, evacuate if you're on the west coast, and stay safe.)

⌕ join taglist | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

igstory • yourinstagram just uploaded!

[caption1; sip and paint with the ladies 👩🏽‍🎨🎨 carmenmmundt kellypiquet][caption2; for my first painting, this is good right?]

alexandrasaintmleux: i'll put it in a gallery 🤩 alexandrasaintmleux: i can't believe i'm friends with the best artist of our time 😌 yourinstagram: alex pleaseee omg 😳🤭 yourinstagram: you realize that means you think i'm better than claude monet right ? alexandrasaintmleux: ,,,second best artist of our time yourinstagram: 😆😆😆

fernandoalo_official: looks beautiful 😍 yourinstagram: you really think so??? fernandoalo_official: yes i like what you did with the colors and brush strokes of course yourinstagram: what detailed compliments meu bem 😂

carmenmmundt: i still don't believe that you've never painted before 🤨 carmenmmundt: you did so well !!!!!! yourinstagram: thank you my love 🥰 yourinstagram: i think i am going to keep painting. it was very fun! carmenmmundt: you should! you're quite good at it :)

instagram • yourinstagram

liked by heidiberger_, fernandoalo_official, francisca.cgomes and 101,723 others

yourinstagram encontro noturno em cores 🖼️

view comments

user1: ptbr to eng translation "date night in color 🖼️"

user2: wow!!! you improved so much already! have you been taking lessons?

➥ yourinstagram: thank you! the only lessons i'm learning are from youtube haha ➥ yourinstagram: and i have painted every day since i started! ➥ user3: you definitely have a natural talent for this! and a lot of potential!!! ➥ user4: it's taken me years to develop a minimal understanding of color theory and shadows. she's done it in two weeks 😕

user5: i know leonardo hates that he didn't paint this 😩😩😩

➥ user6: he's rolling in his grave for sureeee 🙂‍↕️ ➥ user7: bitch why tf would a ninja turtle be mad about this ☠️ ➥ user8: leonardo DA VINCI YOU UNEDUCATED CUR ➥ user7: my fault forgot the turtle wasn't the only person named leo 🫣🫠 ➥ user8: HOW DO YOU FORGET THE MAN WHO PAINTED THE MONA LISA ⁉️⁉️⁉️

pepemartiofficial: i loved doing art in school! i can teach you a few things if you want 😁😁😁

➥ yourinstagram: you mean primary school? which was like last year for you? i think i'll pass garoto 🥴 ➥ fernandoalo_official: josep maria marti sobrepepa don't piss me off. ➥ fernandoalo_official: test me and you can say goodbye to a formula one seat. ➥ user9: ain't no way pepe just tried to step to fernando's girl who's TEN !!! years older than him ➥ pepemartiofficial: shhh i can be mature for her 🤤 ➥ fernandoalo_official: count your days 🥱

carlossainz55: the painting is really good, you made the water look so realistic!

➥ yourinstagram: obrigada carlitos! ➥ carlossainz55: where's fernando's painting 😈 ➥ yourinstagram: it was very good! but he did not want me to post a photo of it :((( ➥ fernandoalo_official: it was very ugly carlos 🙄 ➥ yourinstagram: it was not that bad i just could not tell that it was supposed to be a tiger and not a house cat that was struck by lightning 😅 ➥ carlossainz55: i will pay to see this painting 🤣🤣🤣

twitter

igstory • astonmartinf1 just uploaded!

[caption1; admin was just forcibly handed bear coasters ??? she said they remind her of lance 🐻][caption2; the crochet culprit is on to her next project!]

user: lance bear agenda still going strong 💪

lance_stroll: i want bear coasters 😞 astonmartinf1: meet me downstairs, she gave me extras to hand out to the team lance_stroll: she's the best 🤩🤩🤩 lance_stroll: see you in 5?

user: DUDE she's onto clothes already??? how?!!!

user: admin i need you to send me photos of that sketchbook 👺🤲🏻 user: i need her patterns admin i'm not playing around astonmartinf1: lol get blocked loser 💀

instagram • fernandoalo_official

liked by carlossainz55, lance_stroll, yourinstagram and 234,586 others

fernandoalo_official there is yarn and hooks in my car. this has gone too far.

view comments

yourinstagram: you make a man a shirt with the materials HE bought for you and it's a problem. ungrateful behavior nano 😤

➥ fernandoalo_official: the shirt is very nice i even posed for a picture. all i ask is for no hooks to be left in the cupholders? ➥ yourinstagram: can we compromise and i leave them in the glove box 🥺

user10: let me get this straight: you crochet for a month and suddenly you become a fashion designer?

➥ yourinstagram: not a month, three weeks* i have been crocheting ➥ user11: oh fuck off- how are you good at everything 😩😩😩 ➥ yourinstagram: i am not! and i still cannot make a granny square no matter how hard i try to ☹️ ➥ user12: you don't need to know how to make a granny square when you can make actual pieces of clothing!!!

landonorris: may i have something crocheted too?

➥ yourinstagram: what would you like landinho 😊 ➥ landonorris: may i have a beanie? or a sweater?? ➥ georgerussell: ooooh i'd like a beanie too! ➥ francisca.cgomes: i want that top you're wearing! or something similar!!!! ➥ lance_stroll: what about earmuffs? ➥ lilymhe: a cardigan would be so nice ➥ charlesleclerc: i want a sweater!!! ➥ fernandoalo_official: leave her alone you greedy children 👹 ➥ yourinstagram: ignore him! text me what you all want with inspiration photos and i will let you know!!!

messages • sebastian -> fernando

igstory • yourinstagram just uploaded!

[caption1; hobby update >>>][caption2; to the woman at the craft store who put me onto oil paints...you saved my life][caption3; the wag crochet requests are almost finished!][caption4; first pottery class! had a really fun time :)]

user: i-i need to sit down👄 user: how do you even have time to do all of this?

user: i feel like i've never taken my hobbies seriously after seeing this

user: ffs how long have you been doing pottery? user: it's hard to learn at first but it's worth it if you stay committed 🫶🏽

instagram • yourinstagram

liked by charlesleclerc, lilymhe, francolapinto, and 192,037 others

yourinstagram que divertido! thrown, painted, and fired by me 🌸

view comments

user13: this is a reminder that there's always somebody out there doing what you love better than you 😒

➥ user14: wasn't she JUST at her first pottery class? and she already has a set of dishware 😨

user15: i feel like i have to apologize for even attempting pottery

user16: i would hate to give my gift after her on birthdays and christmas 😬😬😬

➥ user17: valid take. she can make custom clothes, paintings, and ceramics??? i might as well not even show up 🤦🏻‍♀️

kellypiquet: where do you even find the time to do this?

➥ yourinstagram: i have not slept for more than five hours in a very long time. it also distracts me when nano is away so, i keep myself busy. ➥ kellypiquet: please take better care of yourself! the clay will be there after you sleep and i'm sure fernando would like you to sleep too. ➥ fernandoalo_official: 8 hours at least mi amor ❤️ ➥ yourinstagram: fiiiiine 😞

lance_stroll: bring the domino set next time! i want to learn how to play!!!

➥ yourinstagram: i will make you cry if we play dominoes 🤫

user18: you need to start an etsy shop or smth? i think anybody would buy something from you!

➥ yourinstagram: if i do that, i'm afraid it would stop being a hobby and become a job. i don't want to lose the love i have for them :) user19: you could do limited releases? or just list a few items at a time? yourinstagram: i guess that's true. i don't think i will though, i didn't start my hobbies to make money. it's just fun for me 😁

twitter

igstory • fernandoalo_official just uploaded!

[caption; onto the next obsession]

user: damn you didn't lie about the entire botantical collection 😧 user: she's crazy user: i respect her grind though

user: and she made them look like actual boquets 😍 user: why didn't i think of that???

yourinstagram: they are not obsessions. yourinstagram: the proper term is hobby, we have talked about this nano 😒 fernandoalo_official: do you want the vespa or the bonsai…🤨 yourinstagram: both por favor! and get the porsche 911 kit while you are there 😚😚😚😚😚😚

user: she crocheted her own cover up dress user: i love women 🙂‍↕️

instagram • yourinstagram

liked by fernandoalo_official, kellypiquet, landonorris, and 317,940 others

yourinstagram um hobby? ok. quatro hobbies ao mesmo tempo? não repita meus erros 🤕

view comments

user20: ptbr to eng translation "one hobby? ok. four hobbies at the same time/once? do not repeat my mistakes 🤕"

➥ user21: thank u translator woman ➥ user22: thank u translator woman ➥ gabrielbortoleto_: thank u translator woman ➥ user24: one of these things is not like the others 🧐

landonorris: can't wait till it gets chilly in monaco 😌

➥ landonorris: the only thing i'm going to be photographed in is my crochet beanie and sweater ➥oscarpiastri: i'm surprised you're not wearing it now since you're perpetually cold ➥ landonorris: i didn't want to bring it in my luggage in case it's the time i lose my luggage 🤓 ➥ oscarpiastri: wow…that's smart ➥ landonorris: why do you sound so surprised 🤨

lilymhe: i see you learned how to make granny squares 😆

➥ yourinstagram: it took me three whole days to make one 🤧 ➥ lilymhe: damn 💀 ➥ yourinstagram: i am not lying when i say making that first granny square was harder than making your cardigan 😮‍💨

fernandoalo_official: is it weird if i feel proud of you?

➥ yourinstagram: i think it is something to be proud of :) ➥ fernandoalo_official: well i am very proud of you mi amor 😘 ➥ yourinstagram: 🥰😚😚❤️❤️❤️

user25: those paintings!!!! woah, you're like a serious artist now 😨😳😱

➥ user26: fr! you can see her own unique style clearly in these! ➥ yourinstagram: you all are too sweet! it took me a while to switch from reference painting into creating my own art pieces! ➥ alexandrasaintmleux: i wasn't joking when i said i want to put your work in a gallery 🤭🥱 ➥ yourinstagram: alex pleaseee 😖

user28: what are you going to do next? book binding LMAO

➥ yourinstagram: you are right! nano is out buying the supplies for me now 😁 ➥ user28: i was joking 😟 ➥ yourinstagram: and after that i think i am going to learn how to make a cute scrapbook!

© httpsserene - do not repost. photos used are from pinterest.

[meazalykov]

yapper

barca femeni x reader

summary: you always had something to say

warnings: angst, online hate

you've always been the one to fill the quiet. 

if the locker room was silent, you’d throw out a joke. sometimes so bad it would have everyone laughing just because of how ridiculous it was. your teammates loved you for it—or at least you thought they did. 

you didn’t want anyone to sit in nervous energy before a big game. you wanted everyone to feel at ease, to smile, to believe they could take on anything since this was literally barcelona– of course the best club in the world could handle anything. 

“why are you so loud?” mapi teased one day after you cracked a pun about her tattoos during a media day. 

you grinned at her. 

“because someone has to keep this team awake. what would you do without me? shit, i don’t know how you survived without me for long.”

“probably enjoy the peace and quiet,” she shot back, but the grin on her face told you otherwise. 

you knew mapi got all the credit for being the talker of the group, but you easily topped her in that department. kika often joked that you had a built-in microphone, always on and ready to broadcast. 

yet, despite all the jokes, you never felt like it was too much. not until recently. 

training sessions at barça were something you relished, even on your worst days. being surrounded by alexia, kika, and esmee—your closest friends on the team—always made it feel less like work. 

alexia was like a big sister, always ready to listen. kika was your partner-in-crime, teasing you relentlessly, but never crossing the line. esmee? she was your rock, her quiet presence balanced your constant energy, grounding you in ways you didn’t think anyone could. 

after a long training session one evening, you found yourself alone on the practice pitch. penalties were your weak spot, and you wanted to fix that. you lined up the ball, took a deep breath, and sent it toward the net. it hit the post.

“what are you doing here so late?” alexia’s voice startled you.

you jumped, clutching your chest dramatically. 

“you scared me! i could’ve died.”

she smirked, arms crossed as she walked closer. 

“you didn’t answer my question.”

“what are you doing here?” you tried to deflect.

“i asked first.”

rolling your eyes, you motioned to the ball. 

“penalties. i suck at them.”

alexia raised a brow. 

“you’re not even one of the main takers.”

“exactly! that’s why i suck! i need to be better in case i ever have to take one, you know what if you frido or ewa are not available?” you rambled, launching into an explanation of all the ways penalties terrified you. 

alexia didn’t interrupt, just watched you with that calm, almost maternal expression she always had. 

“you’re overthinking it,” she finally said, cutting through your spiral. 

“just keep practicing. you’ll be fine.”

her reassurance helped more than you wanted to admit. alexia had that effect on people, like she could carry all your worries on her shoulders and not even flinch. 

a few days later, you stopped by esmee’s apartment, where she was curled up on the couch with her girlfriend, dani. the sight of them together tugged at something in your chest, a reminder of what you used to have with emily. 

“finally over her,” you announced as you plopped down beside them, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on esmee’s lap. 

“who?” danielle asked, clearly out of the loop. 

“emily,” esmee filled in. “her ex.”

“oh, good for you,” danielle said with a smile through her dutch accent. 

“it’s about time, right?”

you laughed, nodding. 

“yeah, it only took me almost a year.”

however, later that week, you saw something that made your chest tighten all over again. scrolling through instagram, you stumbled upon a photo of emily with another girl, their smiles wide and carefree in north london. 

it shouldn’t have mattered. you were over the woman three years your senior. however, it stung in a way you didn’t expect. 

then came the champions league quarterfinal against bayern munich. the mistake was small—a misplaced pass, a missed mark—but pernille made you pay for it with a screamer that tied the game. 

1-1. 

after the game, you did your best to shake it off, smiling for the cameras, joking with alexia and frido. you thought you’d done well hiding your disappointment. 

the internet didn’t let it slide. 

“y/n talks too much. maybe she should focus on her game instead.”

“doesn’t she get tired of hearing her own voice?”

“the team probably wishes she’d shut up for once.”

the comments were harsh, cruel, and loud in your mind. you tried to brush them off, but the words stuck, clinging to you like thorns. 

the next day at training, you were different. quieter. focused. when kika asked if you were okay, you only nodded, too afraid that anything you said might annoy someone. 

“you sure?” she pressed.

you nodded again, forcing a small smile. 

“weird,” she muttered under her breath, walking away. 

alexia and aitana exchanged glances, both noticing the shift. esmee tried to pull you into a conversation during a water break, but you only offered short replies, your usual energy gone. 

that night in the locker room, after everyone else had left, you stayed behind, the weight of it all finally crashing down on you. in the showers, the tears came hard and fast, your shoulders shaking as you tried to keep quiet. 

though the locker room echoed, and when you emerged, changed and ready to leave, alexia, kika, esmee, and ellie were waiting for you. 

“we heard you crying,” kika said softly, her eyes full of concern. 

“what’s going on?”

you hesitated, swallowing hard. 

“nothing.”

“don’t lie,” alexia said, her voice gentle but firm. 

“i don’t…” you trailed off, taking a deep breath. 

“i don’t want to annoy you guys.”

they all looked at you like you’d grown a second head. 

“annoy us?” esmee asked, incredulous. 

“i talk too much. i saw what people were saying online, and… maybe they’re right.”

“y/n,” alexia started, stepping closer. 

“we love you. all of us. you make this team better, not worse.”

“you think we don’t look forward to hearing your ridiculous jokes every day?” kika added, her tone light but sincere. 

“you’re the reason we laugh half the time.”

“is that mistake against bayern bothering you?” ellie chimed in. “it happens to everyone. it doesn’t define you.”

their words broke through the wall you’d built, and before you knew it, they were pulling you into a group hug. 

“promise us you won’t let those comments get to you again,” alexia said, her hand on your shoulder. 

you nodded, sniffling. 

“i promise.”

“good,” kika said, grinning. 

“now, what were you going to say about the athletic club match?”

and just like that, you found yourself rambling again. they listened, laughing and teasing you like always, reminding you that this was where you belonged. 

masterlist

[technologyvoid]

.

[autistichalsin]

Okay I know I've made like three posts about this one specific thing but I gotta say, anyone who calls Halsin a typical boring Druid either doesn't understand Halsin or doesn't understand Druids, because Halsin is very much an atypical Druid.

Just a few ways Halsin is different than other Druids:

He can't control his wildshape. He transforms involuntarily when under stress, which is not a thing other Druids experience, and he can't control himself fully in wildshape either. He retains traits, such as an enhanced sense of smell, out of his wildshape form, and has the ability to remain as a bear borderline indefinitely, instead of Druids usually only being able to maintain the same form for a couple hours at most.

He doesn't hate undead; he views them the same as living creatures, worthy of life. He cares for Astarion deeply, and is furious if the player allows the 7,000 spawn to die. (He's a little nicer if they do it for a mercy kill instead of the ritual, but is clearly only happy when they are released into the Underdark, the exact thing a Druid is supposed to want to avoid.)

He dislikes the city because it displaces nature, yes, but he VERY rarely says that. Instead, almost every time he laments the conditions of Baldur's Gate, what distresses him is how capitalistic systems harm sentient beings- especially children. He is more upset at the human(oid) suffering he encounters in the city than he is at how it displaces nature.

Halsin is on an obviously morally good alignment. While Druids are no longer required to be neutral, most still are anyway, especially those from the Emerald Enclave, which the Emerald Grove is part of.

Emerald Enclave Druids are encouraged to sabotage society; they breed aggressive animals and place them near settlements to deter development, secretly sponsor brigands to attack new settlements, and simultaneously interact with local populations by providing sweet drinks and teas to boost their public image, so that new developments are curtailed while nearby people think the Druids are kind and harmless. Halsin very notably never even thinks about doing such things, even though it would be trivial for him to do so.

While Halsin's explanation for wanting to stop the Absolute is initially far more in line with Druidic thinking (they're unnatural, obviously), he later grows to want it finished because he wants you, the player, and your friends to be safe.

Halsin has zero desire to ladder-climb in the ranks of the Druids, nor to grow more powerful; he was perfectly happy as he was before the Shadow Curse, and is quite upset he had to waste 100 years of his life "dealing with others' problems and personalities." BUT the fact that he was happy to just that as alderman of his commune suggests the problem was with being forced into the position and being relied on as the sole authority, instead of one trusted elder of many.

Halsin wants children desperately, but was kept from having them by his leadership role. This is yet another example of how, despite his deeply held beliefs, being a Druid ultimately made him less happy.

Halsin isn't very good at leading the Druids, to the point that many of his Druids resent him, many are swayed to a cult the instant he leaves, and he himself decides the best thing he could possibly do for the Grove is leave it and have a better leader come in and take over.

Nearly every struggle Halsin has in the game arises from a conflict with his Druidic beliefs- whether it's his need to cleanse the Shadow Curse causing him to be an ineffective leader of the Grove, his desire for a family being held back by his leadership role, or his love of humanity battling against his hatred for cities as unnatural blots on nature.

Basically, nearly every character beat Halsin has comes from him not being a typical Druid at all, and in some cases, from him being rather bad at being the things Druids are supposed to be.

[carakook]

Shut Up .・。.・゜✭・.

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

“If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”

🔞FOR MATURE AUDIENCES🔞

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Synopsis: After taking a job as a co-writer, you quickly find that you and your “boss” just don’t get along. Constantly butting heads, disagreeing on things, and he isn’t even nice about it. He’s a fucking dick. He’s always criticizing you in embarrassing ways, but you’ve tried to be patient, ride it out. Over the short time you’ve worked here, the tension has built quickly, and it is clear both of you cannot stand each other. Unfortunately, today is the day you reach your limit after he humiliates you in front of several of your coworkers… and the “conflict resolution” is definitely something you did not expect.

Genre: Enemies to lovers (or hookup in this case), workplace affair.

Pairings: Boss/Writer!Namjoon x Co-writer!Reader

Word count: 7.5k+

Warnings: 18+, Heavy smut!! Hate sex, protected sex (wrap it up), rough sex, face fucking, light slapping (not in the face), a bit of spit play, face fucking, cussing, crying (sort of), heavy conflict, degradation, arguing, name calling, a bit of teasing, cum eating? (Sort of), dry humping, face humping, being slapped with dick (lightly), Let me know if I missed anything!

⚠Disclaimer⚠:This story does not in any way reflect the character of those who are mentioned, it is totally fiction and just for fun. Please don’t take it seriously.

A/N: Hiiii! This is my first one shot. I’ve actually had it in my drafts for a long time but never posted it, I decided to finish it recently and post it here. I hope you like it! I love writing, have soooo many drafted one shots/full on fanfics with each of the boys. A looot of them are with Jungkook, can’t help myself. He’s my lover… 😭 Anyway, if you guys end up liking this I’ll post more. Thank you so much for reading if you do!

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

There aren’t many things you regret in life. Because if you allow yourself to regret things, you overthink. Overthinking is never a good thing.

See, it wasn’t awful at first. But the moment you met Kim Namjoon, you could tell he had a problem with you. What? You didn’t know. You still don’t know. But he never bothered hiding it.

You powered through, because this was sort of like a dream job for you. You loved writing music, writing lyrics. It was hard to even find a job like this to begin with. So when you got the callback, you jumped at the chance. You were so excited to be working here, and you were familiar with Kim Namjoon. You thought his songs were beautiful, his writing style seemed similar to yours.

Boy, you were wrong.

Not even a week into working here he was heavily criticizing you. But again… you pushed through. Because you were new, he had a right to be picky. This was his studio, he was technically your boss… technically. So you tried to be patient and listen to his criticism.

Which didn’t last long. Because he was not subtle. Arguably, there is a difference between constructive criticism and being blatantly rude and picky. Namjoon was straight-up rude. And at times it was embarrassing.

Nothing you did seemed to satisfy him. Every single time you brainstormed with him and the team, he disagreed with you. Every time you proposed lyrics, he rejected your ideas. Every time you so as much opened your mouth, he had an issue with what you had to say.

You tried to be patient… you genuinely did. But you don’t like feeling disrespected or embarrassed. And you certainly don’t take shit from anyone. So the last two weeks you’ve both been bickering, and the tension is noticeable not only to you and Namjoon but to the entire damn team.

The worst part about it all? You are so fucking attracted to him. He makes your tummy swoop with butterflies. He smells good. He’s tall, his dimples are fucking adorable, and his body… god, he is to die for. The sexual tension is prominent.

If only he wasn’t such a dick.

Today pushed you to your limits. Never in your life have you been more embarrassed.

It all started with a song he was working on. He played the beat, and immediately you were inspired. You got excited. Your attitude was bright, and you immediately jotted the lyrics down on your paper when they came to mind. You seriously thought today would be the day he’d be proud. He would agree. You felt good about it.

Only for him to burst out laughing when he read the lyrics. That wasn’t even the worst part. It’s bad enough that he laughed at you in front of the entire team. But what he said next is what made you lose your shit.

“Oh- shit. You’re serious?”

He stared at you for a moment, taking in your very irritated expression. And then he fucking laughed again.

“Fuck, Y/N. I thought this was a joke. God, I wish it was a joke because it would be hilarious if it was. It sounds like a fucking kids-bop song. You can’t be serious.”

And that’s when all hell broke loose.

You went off on him. In front of everyone. For three minutes straight you cursed him out, waived your hands around, and made it clear how much you cannot stand him and how rude he has been. How humiliated you feel. You’ve always been praised for your writing, so why the fuck doesn’t he like it? You are fucking pissed.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to cuss your boss out in front of everyone… but at this point, you don’t care. If he gets you fired by the company, oh-fucking-well.

Namjoon stares at you for a moment once you’re done. Your chest is heaving, your cheeks are red, and your brows are furrowed angrily. Clearly, he didn’t expect your outburst. His nostrils are flared and his jaw is tense, it even does the little tick thing that drives you crazy. Fuck him for being so hot. Fuck him for being so damn hot and such a dick.

He raises a brow at you, tongue in cheek, making that angry face that would be incredibly attractive if it weren’t directed at you. He lets out an angry huff of air before speaking.

“Studio. Now.”

He points at his studio as he says this as if you’re too stupid to understand his words. This pisses you off even more.

“You’re not my fucking boss.”

He scoffs at you, briefly smiling at your bold choice of words. You infuriate him just as much as he infuriates you.

“Actually, Y/N, I am. Studio. Now.”

You know that technically, he is your boss. But you refuse to listen to him after how humiliated he made you feel. In front of everyone, how dare he speak to you this way? Regardless of his weird hate for you. Besides, he can’t fire you. He may be able to request it, but you know that he won’t. From what you’ve heard, It took forever to fill this position. He was picky when it came to hiring someone… which makes this more confusing. You can’t figure out what his issue is with you, especially when he is the one who helped pick you for the job. Regardless, you know that he doesn’t have the patience to do it again. He’s full of shit.

You stand your ground. You won’t back down this time. You’re tired of the disrespect.

“No, Namjoon. Whatever you want to say, you can say it here. You’ve already embarrassed me, so go ahead, do it some more. I’m sure you get off on it.”

No longer smiling, his gaze is dark. He’s pissed. Now he’s a bit embarrassed… that’s what he gets.

“I won’t ask again. You can march your ass upstairs, or I can carry you. Your choice.”

You say nothing, surely he wouldn’t do that. He’s bluffing. Regardless of how harsh he has been towards you, you know that he wouldn’t cross that line. You hope that he doesn’t. The last thing that you want is for him to touch you. Not because he makes you uncomfortable, but because you already have enough dirty thoughts about him. You hate him, yet he turns you on in a way you’ve never felt. Lust driven by pure hatred, it’s a dangerous thing.

But of course, you were wrong, and he never ceases to surprise you. Never underestimate Kim Namjoon.

You stay silent, secretly hoping that he will just back down and continue the brainstorming session. But is Kim Namjoon the type of man to back down? No. He never has been.

He strides over to you quickly, taking big steps in your direction, causing you to miss your chance to run.

He swiftly grabs your waist and hoists you over his shoulder, his fingers digging into your thighs. You don’t even have time to react before he starts carrying you upstairs to the studio. He has no trouble doing so either, carrying you as if you weigh nothing.

You come to your senses and swat at his back while you yell profanities at him, demanding that he put you down, threatening to report him, and telling him that he’ll be fired by morning if he doesn’t stop.

But you know that he won’t. This company would never side with you, no matter what Namjoon did. They relied on him. They didn’t rely on you. You were replaceable, even if it would be difficult. Namjoon is not replaceable.

“Resume the session. If you finish before we’re done, you’re free to go. This may take a while. Don’t interrupt us.”

Hurried nods are sent in his direction, no one dares protest him or intervene. Cowards.

He kicks the door open to the studio, entering with ease, making sure not to hit your head on the doorframe as he walks in. You wish he would have hit your head, knocked you out, hell even thrown you over the staircase. Anything to avoid this humiliation he has cursed you with. You almost wish you would’ve just kept your damn mouth shut.

But the damage is done now. No point in backing down.

He throws you roughly on the couch sitting opposite his desk and then closes the door, locking it before facing you.

You glare at him, chest heaving, heart beating out of your chest. You’re just as pissed as he is. Yet, you still find yourself clenching your thighs together, irritated at the fact that he turns you on so much. You shouldn’t be horny right now… yet you are. The way he squeezed your thighs… fuck. Fuck him. God, fuck him to hell. You hate him.

“What the fuck was that?” You nearly growl at him.

He stands in front of you, arms crossed, looking down on you as if you’re nothing more than a pesky roach that he wants to squash.

“I told you, you could walk, or I could carry you. You made your choice, clearly.”

Fuck him.

“Fuck you, Namjoon. This is ridiculous.”

He laughs. He laughs at you.

Fuck him.

“You are ridiculous, Y/N. Why are you even here, if you can’t take criticism?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I can take criticism, constructive criticism, something that you are apparently incapable of giving. You’re so fucking mean to me and I’ve done NOTHING to you.”

“No, I-“

You cut him off, unable to control your mouth.

“And another thing, it’s only me that you speak to this way. I’ve yet to see you speak to anyone else the way that you do me. What is your issue with me, why do you hate me so much?”

“Maybe if you-“

You cut him off again, and his jaw does the tick thing. He’s getting angrier, but you do not give a fuck.

“No, this isn’t on me. I earned my spot here, I was hired for a reason, and everyone else respects me, why don’t you?”

“Because-“

Again.

Fuck him.

“There is no reason, you obviously have some sort of sick vendetta against me. You’re fucking insufferable!”

“Me? No, you-“

Again.

And he’s had enough.

“No, fuck you Namjoon, fuck you and this weird ass game you’re playing, you—“

He borderline growls before he pins you on the couch.

You don’t even have time to register what he’s doing, and if you did, you’d slap the shit out of him.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

His lips crash into yours as he hovers over you, one knee perched in between your legs, while his other leg steadies him. He grabs your face with force, so rough that you swear he could break your jaw if he gripped you any harder. His other hand is on the back of the couch, steadying him the same and pinning you in place.

The kiss is no different. His lips assault yours, and he wastes no time in forcing his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you with vigor. A kiss unlike any you’ve ever experienced before. You’ve only ever been kissed like this in your dreams, the same dreams that wake you up in the middle of the night leaving you touch-starved. It’s fucking aggressive and rough.

And of course, you kiss him back. You don’t want to. Yet you do. You don’t want to give in to him. But you do. You can’t help it. As soon as he made his move, you were under his control. He has that way about him, he’s easily able to affect people. You were a different story. You always defied him, disagreed with him, challenged him. Yet, this is the way that he tames you, even if only for a minute. Shit. You’re weaker than you thought.

He nips your bottom lip before pulling back, your jaw still in his grip. His nostrils are flared and his breathing is rigid, as if he’s just as shocked as you are at his actions.

And he is. He has no idea why he just kissed you. He has no idea what came over him. He just wanted you to shut the fuck up, and he acted on impulse. And now he has a raging hard-on, which pisses him off even more. He doesn’t want to want you, in the same way that you don’t want to want him. But you both do.

He whispers, searching your face, studying your reaction.

“Do you ever just shut the fuck up and listen?”

You clear your throat, still trying to come down from the rush of the kiss, adrenaline running through your veins.

“I-“

“Do you know how fucking irritated you make me?”

Suddenly, you have no fight left in you. You feel intimidated. Fuck him.

“Then why-“

“Am I gonna have to kiss you every time you need to shut the fuck up?”

You blink at him, unable to respond. You have no idea what to do, or how to react, and are becoming distracted by the puddle seeping between your thighs.

You haven’t had sex in over a year. You haven’t been able to grow interest in someone enough to give them that piece of yourself again. Your last situation-ship left you simply sick of men. Sex wasn’t appealing enough to go through that again. But, of course, as if the universe is punishing you, Namjoon awakens your sex drive.

You nervously bite your lip and clench your thighs, not even realizing what you’re doing. You’re on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger and lust. And this doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon.

He looks down at your thighs, and you immediately unclench them. Your cheeks betray you by reddening, thanks to the smirk that very clearly gives away that he knows exactly what you’re feeling right now.

He keeps his eyes on your thighs for a moment before looking up at you. He smirks, raising a brow, giving you a crooked smile that tells you he knows your dirty little secret. Your jaw is still firmly in his grasp.

“Is that it? You’re sexually frustrated? Is that why you’re being such a bitch?”

You try to wriggle from his grasp, embarrassed, angry, horny. You’re starting to wish he would just fire you. Anything to save you the embarrassment of his knowing glare.

“Fuck you.”

He chuckles, bringing his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel his breath touch your lips.

“Yeah? Fuck me? If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”

You blink at him again and say nothing. You want to protest, tell him how gross he is, tell him how much you hate him, tell him that he’s the worst. Yet, his idea just makes you hornier. You’ve never had hate sex, and oh fuck, you’re sure that it would improve your mood, even some of the tension between you two.

But it pains you to even admit that. It’s humiliating. He has humiliated you enough.

He moves his hand to the back of your head, angling it upwards so that he has better access to your neck. He places his lips on your jaw, running his teeth up it, leading to the crook of your neck, keeping his lips on you as he speaks his next words.

He grabs your wrist with his other hand, leading it to his crotch, coaxing you to feel him. And he’s hard. So hard that you’re certain a button will break on his jeans. Fuck. He feels giant… You’re so fucked.

“Do you see what you do to me? Never in my life have I had anyone piss me off to the point of getting a fucking boner.”

You can’t help but whimper at his dirty words, but you make sure to bite your lip, preventing yourself from begging him to take you as you so desperately want to. You aren’t one to beg for anything. And you hate him even more for bringing you to that point.

“I’ve thought about fucking you so many times, Y/N. Fucking you to the point that you don’t even remember your own name, and my name is the only thing that you can scream. I just wanna fuck you until you shut the fuck up.”

“Please, just… do it then.”

Word vomit. You thought it but didn’t intend to say it. Yet, you said it. Of course, you did. You’re on the brink of cumming just from his filthy words.

He kisses your neck before speaking. And you can feel him smile as he does so.

Fuck him.

“Oh, Y/N, baby, hearing you beg makes it so tempting. I never thought you’d be the type, considering the amount of shit you talk.”

You croak out, suddenly feeling defensive, “I’m not. I don’t beg for shit.” You weakly push at his chest, even though you both know damn well you don’t want him to stop.

He laughs, pulling back to look at you, keeping his face close.

��Yet, here you are, begging for my cock like a desperate whore.”

You frown at him, feigning offense, when in reality his degradation is making you even more desperate. Why? You don’t know. You’ve never liked being degraded, in fact, nothing turns you off more than being called names… but hearing it come out of Namjoon's mouth? Fuck.

“I’m not a whore.” You whisper.

He tilts his head at you, amused.

“Fucking obviously, you’re acting like you’ve never been touched before. Are you this needy with other men?”

“There are no other men.”

He studies you for a moment, carefully calculating his next move. The way that he looks at you makes you feel insecure, as if he’s a judge on one of those cooking shows, trying to figure out whether he likes the taste of you or not. You have the urge to push him away and take off, his gaze is too goddamn intense.

He is too intense. Never met a man like him.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You mumble, looking away from him.

“Like what?” He asks, furrowing his brows. Amused.

“Like you think I’m the most vile thing on earth.”

He’s taken aback by your response, almost looking offended. Because that is the last thing he was thinking. If only you knew.

“Vile? Baby, I’m so hard for you right now that it hurts, do you know how hot you are when you’re pissed? Fucking annoying, but soooo hot.”

You squirm, your cheeks pinking again. You didn’t expect that. You expected him to laugh in your face and agree. He grunts as he takes in your facial expression. If only you knew what you truthfully do to him. He closes his eyes and scrunches his brows, taking a deep breath before he pulls away from you, leaving you considering getting on your damn knees and begging for him to touch you again.

He chuckles while shaking his head, eyes still closed as he speaks. As if he’s in pain from pulling away from you.

“Yeah, fuck, and you’re cute when you blush. This is fucked. I can’t stand you, yet you’re so fucking cute. What the fuck are you doing to me? Huh?”

Fuck. He’s making this hard. You’re so overwhelmed. So pissed, so horny, you wanna push him away and cuss him out some more, but also you’ve never wanted another man more in your life than you do him right now.

Both of you stare at each other silently for a moment. His jaw keeps doing the tick thing, and you squeeze your thighs tighter, rubbing them together to relieve some pressure. His eyes flick to them, and you don’t even bother hiding it this time. As humiliating as it is, his cock is hard and bulging out of his jeans. So you can’t find yourself caring too much at the moment.

What really makes his resolve waver is the way you’re looking at him, which you don’t even realize. Normally you look at him with such disdain, as if he’s the vile one. But right now? Your eyes are wide and glossy, your lip stuck between your teeth. You’re looking at him almost sweetly. The desperation in your gaze is impossible to hide.

He loses it completely.

“Ah, fuck it.” He declares before grabbing you by your hair again as he sits on the couch. He tugs you roughly into his lap and starts devouring your mouth again.

You let out a little huff of air as he does this, not quite used to the rough handling. But god, it’s fucking divine. You feel as if all of the anger you’ve held for him comes rushing out in the form of kisses and touches. He feels the same.

His hand leaves your hair and he grips your hips, roughly grinding his hard cock onto your pussy. Dry humping like fucking teenagers as you make out aggressively.

Your hands come to rest on his face, framing it as they tremble slightly from the overwhelming emotions. You don’t hold back this time either, licking into his mouth wantonly, letting out little grunts and mewls that make his cock strain and twitch inside of his jeans.

His hands leave your hips to grip your ass, and he fucking groans into your mouth. He slaps it once, testing. When you let out a whine, he slaps it much harder this time, making your body jerk slightly.

He laughs into your mouth and says breathily, “Fuck, you really are a whore aren’t you?”

You bite his lip hard when he says this. You hate it. You love it. You grind down harder onto his clothed cock. He reaches back up to grip your hair and tugs your head back, pulling on it harshly and pulling you away from his mouth.

He grins when he hears you whine at the loss of his lips. “You wanna fucking bite me, huh? Uh-uh, fuck no you don’t.”

He pushes you off of his lap and lets go of your hair, you look up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and confusion. Honestly, you already look fucked out and he’s barely done anything. You’re just touch-starved, so every little kiss and touch is fucking you up. You’re craving relief from both your sexual frustration and the building irritation he’s caused you over the last month.

Before you even realize what he’s about to do, he grabs your hair again, his grip much firmer this time. It actually kind of hurts… yet you don’t stop him. He pushes your face roughly into his clothed cock, and grinds onto your face as he spreads his legs wider on the couch.

Oh fuck.

He grunts as he starts nearly smothering you. When he feels a bit of your drool gets onto his crotch, he yanks your head back, he laughs again, “Bet your big fucking mouth is great at sucking cock. Should we find out?”

You just glare at him. Don’t wanna give him the satisfaction even though every single thing he has done so far has made you borderline cream your pants.

He clicks his tongue, “No? Don’t have anything to say now? Isn’t that funny…”

Fuck him.

He keeps his grip tight on your hair as he uses his other hand to fumble with his zipper and button. Once it’s undone, he whips his cock out. It hits the fabric of his rumpled shirt and is already dripping precum.

Holy. Fuck. His cock is huge. A good nine inches.

He yanks your head forward again, literally smearing your face all over it, humping your face again. His head falls back and he grunts at the feeling. Your skin is just so soft, and the way your makeup is already becoming fucked up is making him go crazy. He’s always loved sloppy sex. And you are fucking gorgeous like this, he thinks.

He grabs his cock with his free hand as he tilts your head back, starts slapping your mouth with it, your cheeks too. The precum starts stringing from your cheek to the tip of his cock, and you can see his pupils dilate even bigger, he almost looks like he’s about to lose control.

He says uncharacteristically softly, “If you want me to stop, pinch my thigh real hard, yeah?”

If you had even a single moment of free thought, you would’ve probably been thankful that he gave you an out. You know despite him being a huge piece of work, he’s not a bad guy. So the fact he’s setting boundaries in your favor, even in the heat of the moment, is comforting. He cares about your safety and comfort. It’s the bare minimum of course, but most men lack even that. It’s why you stopped having casual sex to begin with.

But you don’t have a moment to think because pushes your lips down onto his cock abruptly, your mouth opens on instinct and he shoves himself inside. Doesn’t even ease into it, he just straight up plows his cock inside of your mouth until your nose is pressed against his pelvis.

You cough, and gag, already drooling all over him. Fuck it’s hot. You’ve never been face fucked like this before, but you’re starting to think maybe you’ve been missing out on good sex if this is how good rough sex feels.

You can’t even imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you if it feels this good in your mouth.

When he sees tears start to form, he pulls your hair back, strings of spit and precum connecting from your mouth and onto the tip of his cock. Fuck, it felt so good feeling your throat constrict around his cock. His resolve is wavering heavily. But he’s trying to remain patient. He smirks at you, stroking his spit-covered cock lazily directly onto your lips, causing beads of precum to escape his tip and cover your lips like lipgloss.

“Fuck, look at you. And you haven’t said a damn word. So pretty when you shut up.”

Your cheeks flush and you say petulantly, “Fuck you.” Because even now you don’t wanna give him the satisfaction.

That’s short-lived though because he starts fucking your mouth again. He shoves his cock inside and starts thrusting into your mouth as if it’s a goddamn sex toy. He hits the back of your throat with every thrust, causing you to gag and cough, your hands squeezing his thighs hard but not pinching.

You can take it.

He grunts out, “Fuck… I swear to god I’ll fuck your pretty little mouth every goddamn time you mouth off from now on Y/N, since nothing else has worked so far.”

Each word punctuated by a harsh thrust, he grunts our, “Just shut. the. fuck. up. Fuuuck.”

He keeps fucking up into your mouth, not easing up even for a second. Your eyes roll back in your head, and all you can do is take it. His thrusts only become sloppier and wetter. His head is thrown back and his abdomen starts clenching hard. But he knows you need to breathe. As much as he wishes he could just cum down your throat; he has other plans…

He pulls your head back again, he’s already feeling a bit too close to cumming. He doesn’t wanna cum too fast, he’s certain it would give you more to talk shit about.

He gazes down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his mouth parted slightly and his breaths coming in fast. You look utterly fucked. Your makeup is ruined completely now, your eyes are red and teary, and your pretty pink lips are swollen. His stomach flutters, because he thinks you have never looked prettier.

He’s always thought you were so pretty. It’s one of the reasons he can’t stand you. He isn’t supposed to want you. You’re his coworker, technically his subordinate.

But none of that matters now, does it?

He doesn’t look much better, his shirt is covered in wet spit and his boxers are ruined too. He should’ve taken his clothes off… but luckily, he thinks it’s so much hotter this way.

His cock twitches against his belly, and he strokes your cheek with his free hand. He murmurs, “You good?”

You nod stupidly at him even as drool dribbles down your chin and your mascara runs onto your cheeks. There’s nothing to say really. You’ve never enjoyed having a dick down your throat so much. And he has effectively shut you up.

He nods and guides your head up, kisses you deeply. His eyes roll back as he tastes his precum on your tongue. So fucking good, he thinks.

He guides your pliant body to lay down on the couch, and then he settles in between your legs, his hands stroking up and down your thighs as he looks you over. God, there is so much he wants to do to you. He wants to use you but also wants to make you come undone as many times as possible.

Maybe then you’ll be more tolerable. Maybe this is what you both need, he rationalizes.

But he’s getting impatient. His cock is standing tall as he looks down at you, visibly pulsating, jerking upward now and then. And fuck, it’s making you impatient too. So much so that you whine at him, “Fuck, stop looking and just do something.”

His jaw ticks. He’s getting irritated. That’s what you think, anyway. But in reality, he’s preening on the fact you’re just as impatient as he is. It gives him an excuse to cut the foreplay and fuck you stupid.

You want him to do something? Oh, he will.

He lets out an almost mocking laugh, “Yeah? Want me to do something about it? You sure?”

You groan and roll your eyes at him, scooting your ass closer to his pelvis on the couch, his cock dripping so much precum, you have no idea how he’s not losing his mind right now. You certainly are. In fact, he’s starting to piss you off again.

Right as you’re about to talk shit, he can immediately tell. He grabs the front of your button-up and he rips it open. Doesn’t unbutton it like a normal person, but fucking rips it open, sending buttons flying on the floor of the studio. You let out a grunt, and blink at him in surprise with your mouth open.

You liked that shirt. Fuck him.

“Fucking seriously? You’re ruining my clothes now?”

Your patience is almost nonexistent at this point. You have drool and precum drying on your chin, you’re so horny it hurts, and he just ripped your shirt open like a wild fucking animal.

But him? It’s like he’s not even paying attention. His eyes are averted downward, tongue flicking over his lips. He looks almost stupid like this. What the fuck?

You look down to see what he’s gawking at, and… Oh. Oh. Kinda slipped your mind that you aren’t wearing a bra today. You were running late this morning and forgot to throw one on. Oops.

Namjoon doesn’t even look at your face at this point. His eyes are glued to your tits. He feels kind of ridiculous, getting this worked up over tits. He’s seen tits many times, it’s nothing new. But something about yours has him salivating, has his cock jerking upward.

He reaches down and starts lightly slapping the sides of your tits, watching them jiggle with a gaze full of hunger, he rasps out, “Not the only thing I’m gonna be ruining.”

One hand remains playing with your tits like they’re fucking stress balls, and Namjoon would argue that they absolutely are. The other hand reaches down and lifts your skirt, causing it to pool around your waist. He looks down a bit further, begrudgingly tearing his eyes away from your perfect tits, his other hand pushing your ruined panties to the side. He groans, nearly growls when he notices how wet you are. Fuck. He’s so close to losing control.

He dips a single finger into your sopping heat, just barely. Moves the creamy juices around before pushing his finger fully inside, squeezing your tit hard in his other hand. Your hips buck up involuntarily and your head falls back against the couch. You fucking hate yourself for the desperate noise that claws out of your throat.

Namjoon is no better, the moment he feels how wet you truly are, he lets a sound that sounds no better than the one you just let out. His breathing picks up, his heart starts beating faster, and his cock is so hard at this point that it’s actually painful. God, you are just so tight. Your pussy is clenching around his finger as if it’s trying to swallow him whole.

“N-Namjoon— please. Fuck. Please.” You beg again, don’t even care how pathetic you sound. A single fucking finger isn’t enough for how badly you want him right now. Want to be filled up and fucked hard. He’s barely moving it too. Just lightly grazing your walls, and it’s so frustrating. You just want to cum. Get it all out.

Namjoons resolve finally breaks when he sees a trickle of creamy white drip out of your pussy and onto the couch, he can’t take it anymore. He genuinely wanted to tease you, make a fucking mess of you. Make you beg and cry for him because of how much you piss him off. But not even he is strong enough to stall, he needs you. Now.

One last slap to the tit, he pulls his hand away and hastily reaches over for his wallet on the side table next to the couch. He pulls a condom out, brings the wrapper up to his mouth, and tears it open. And fuck, that’s so sexy. Your pussy clenches his finger again at the sight, and then he jerks it out of your pussy with a grunt.

You whine at him, almost feeling offended. But Namjoon knows damn well he’s going a little crazy because he just got jealous. Jealous of his own fucking finger. Should be his cock, not his finger. What the fuck are you doing to him?

He doesn’t warn you before he stuffs the same finger, accompanied by another finger, into your mouth. Nearly making you choke just like you did on his cock. Then he tosses the wrapped condom onto your bare chest, “Put it on me. Quick.”

You don’t even hesitate, you grab the condom with shakey hands and fumble it out of the package, all while sucking his fingers clean of your own juices. It only turns you on more, tasting yourself on his skin.

You reach for his cock, grab it with one shaky hand and his hips buck into it a bit. He lets out a little hiss through his teeth because of how sensitive it is, neglected for too long. That’s how it feels, anyway.

You roll the condom onto his cock snuggly and then look up at him expectantly with a desperate but wrecked look. Give him the best ‘fuck me’ eyes you can muster up. He keeps his fingers in your mouth. Doesn’t even move. Again, drawing it out. Attempting to, anyway.

You whine against his fingers, and would probably be begging him if you could talk. But Namjoon can’t take it anymore, lucky for you. He moves his hips forward and uses his free hand to position his cock at your entrance.

The moment the tip is sucked into your tight hole, he snaps. Literally, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. You cry out even with your mouth around his fingers, sounding muffled and wet. Your back arched obscenely because fuck you didn’t expect him to just go in like that.

You’re not complaining though, fuck no.

His head falls back like yours, and he stays like that for a moment, his teeth grit and eyes clenched shut. He removes his fingers from your mouth and grabs your face with one hand, smooshing your cheeks, the other hand coming back up to your tit and squeezing it harshly, as if he just can’t help himself. Squeezing so hard that it kinda hurts. But fuck, it feels so good. You’re starting to realize maybe you have a thing for shit like this.

Doesn’t help when you feel his cock twitching inside of you. It’s just enough stimulation to make your pussy start throbbing around him.

It’s pathetic how close you already are. But god, it feels like he edged you for hours. Even though he barely did anything. You guess you just kinda forgot what actual dick felt like compared to your fingers or a toy.

He starts moving his hips slowly, trying to be patient while your pussy adjusts to his size. But your patience left the moment he entered you.

“Fuck. Go faster, please.”

Your voice sounds high-pitched and a bit loud which you don’t even realize. You can’t control it. He clicks his tongue at this, gives your face a little shake as he says, “Thought I told you to shut the fuck up? Unless you want all of your coworkers to know you’re letting your boss fuck the shit out of you like a whore? That what you want?”

He pulls back out and then slams in again. You let out another cry, body jolting at the force. And he starts just pounding into you.

You asked for this.

How the fuck are you supposed to be quiet when he goes from 0 to 100 like that? Holy fuck.

“Oh, so you do? You want them all to know I’m making you my slut after humiliating you for your shitty writing? C’mon, speak up. Can’t hear you. Use your fucking words.”

All while snapping his hips harshly into yours, out one moment, deep inside the next. You can barely take it. You swear you can feel him in your fucking stomach. Hardly even register his degrading words because you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t even control the loud noises coming out of your mouth, although you desperately try.

Tears prickle your eyes, not because it hurts but because you’re overwhelmed. He’s so hard to figure out. Acting like he’s gonna tease you one moment, and then fucking you like he’s trying to split you in half the next.

He lets out a grunt at your lack of response and ends up squishing your cheeks harder, forcing your mouth open. He leans down slightly and fucking spits in your mouth and then stuffs his fingers back in your mouth, “Actually, just shut the fuck up. Keep your mouth busy and shut the fuck— ah, fuck— the fuck up.”

Fucking disgusting. Fucking hot.

The way his words falter and he loses train of thought for a second makes your pussy clench deliciously around him. Because it’s confirmation that he is just as affected as you are. Just as fucked up right now.

You both look a mess. Your shirt is torn open, your skirt all crooked and pushed up to your waist, and your panties aren’t even fully off. His shirt is still damp with spit, his pants only halfway pulled down and now there’s a creamy white stain on the front of them from your juices dripping down his dick.

It’s heaven, honestly. Or maybe hell. You aren’t sure. But it feels so fucking good.

His hips piston into your cunt hard and fast, and you do your best to focus on sucking his fingers, but the pressure is building fast. You can feel your pussy start to flutter, your clit throbbing, begging to be paid attention to. He can feel it too, it’s making him go crazy because of how responsive you are.

He slams home one more time before staying there, swiveling his hips in a circle so that his pelvis brushes against your clit each time, giving it the minimal amount of attention that has you nearly seeing stars, almost there, but not quite.

“Need more?” He pants out.

You nod your head quickly, his fingers covered in your saliva at this point. Dripping in the essence of you just like his cock. He nods back, removes his other hand from your hip, and settles it at the bottom of your belly, pushing down and placing his thumb over your clit. He starts flicking it fast and starts fucking into you again, picking up the pace so that the room fills with wet squelching noises and skin slapping.

The way he’s pushing onto your tummy while rubbing your clit, Jesus fuck… it’s intense. Makes it feel like he is inside of your stomach. So fucking deep.

Yup. That does it. The stagnant pressure starts building rapidly, he can feel it too. Your pussy starts tightening and fluttering beautifully around his girth. You’re making the prettiest noises, still quiet thanks to his fingers stuffed in your mouth but he can hear you the perfect amount.

God, it’s so perfect, he thinks.

You, you’re not thinking at all. He really is fucking you stupid. Your eyes are continuously rolling back and your hips buck into his thrusts desperately, quickly approaching your climax.

He flicks your clit back and forth, fast but precisely, “C’mon baby, give it to me. Fucking cum all over me. Make a mess. Ungh— god you’re such a fucking slut.”

And that sends you. Out of everything, something about Namjoon calling you a slut just fucking does it for you. You let out a muffled moan, that would be a scream most likely if his fingers weren’t sheathed into your mouth. Your legs tremble and your body shudders through the force of your orgasm.

Your pussy throbs violently, walls rippling around his cock as you finally see those stars. It feels fucking amazing, makes tears fall down your cheek. You can barely breathe because of the force of how fucking good it feels to cum on his cock.

This is his end too. He simply can’t hold back when he feels the vice grip of your pussy desperately trying to keep his cock in place, the rippling of your walls nearly feels like vibrations. He lets out another groan, but it almost comes out like a whine. Very subtly. His face is scrunched up and his mouth open as his hips stutter, his cock spilling and filling up the condom.

It goes on and on. Neither of you thinking about how much you hate each other, only thinking about how good it feels to be together like this. He swears he’s never had sex better than this. You feel the same.

The reality of it all is hate sex is unmatched. Especially when tensions build for so long and you both act as if you can’t stand each other… who knew a fuck could’ve helped with that?

At the last twitch of his cock, when your pussy becomes overstimulated and sore, he collapses on top of you. Both of you panting harshly, catching your breaths as your hearts beat in unison.

He removes his spit-covered fingers from your mouth, and he places lazy little kisses on your skin. He isn’t even sure where, too fucked out to pay attention, just anywhere he can reach while he rests on top of you. It’s an oddly tender gesture. A little sweet, even.

It’s silent for a few minutes. And you both start to realize what you’ve done. You just fucked your technical boss… he just fucked one of his co-writers.

Definitely shouldn’t have happened.

He can’t find himself regretting it though. He feels so light, that he could almost smile. As much of an excuse as it was at first, it genuinely helped with the tension. He’s not quite as irritated with you. Does he like you now? Fuck no.

But the more post-nut clarity comes to fruition… the more he thinks he can tolerate you. Maybe even work with you, compromise with you.

You on the other hand… you don’t know how to feel. You don’t regret it, because fuck, it did help with the tension. You feel lighter too. Not as sensitive. Not as hateful.

Maybe it was for the best. It’s not like anyone has to know, anyway. It’s like couples counseling sort of… except you’re definitely not a couple, and you both still cannot stand each other.

But you can tolerate each other now that most of the tension is gone for the time being.

“You good?”

He tears you away from your thoughts, and you look up at him with bleary eyes. It makes you feel sort of warm and fuzzy inside knowing despite his dislike for you, he’s still checking to make sure he didn’t cross any lines.

Well, he crossed several lines. But, you aren’t complaining. You’re glad he did. Glad he reduced you to this.

“I’m fucking great.”

That earns you a little chuckle. He sighs a breath of relief, was worried he went a bit too hard or did too much, especially since you didn’t set any boundaries beforehand. But you took what he gave you and you took it like a fucking champ, he thinks.

He reluctantly gets off of you because now that you’re both a bit more clear-headed, the couch feels a little too small, and he doesn’t wanna crush you.

His softening cock is still inside of you, so he braces a hand on the couch and slowly pulls out, both of you hissing at the feeling. He watches in awe as your juices flow freely out of you. God, what a pretty pussy, he thinks.

He dips a finger back into your heat, causing you to let out a little noise of surprise. But he removes it quickly, brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean.

“Mmm. Yummy.” He says, wiggling his brows.

Ugh.

He pats your thigh before getting off of the couch, taking the condom off, and tying it up to chuck it in the trash. He stuffs his soft and sensitive cock back into his underwear and pulls up his pants, feeling utterly satiated now. Bubbly and light, even though he won’t show it. He makes his way to the little fridge in his studio and he grabs two bottles of water, tosses you one which you barely catch.

You gulp down the water gratefully, parched considering he stole most of your fucking spit. Asshole.

He begins walking into the bathroom attached to his studio as he says, “C’mon let’s go get cleaned up. Then we can look at those lyrics again and see if it still sounds like kids bop now that I’ve fucked you stupid.”

At your immediate glare, he lets out a laugh, and shrugs innocently, “What? Pussy is magic, can change a man’s mind about a lot of things. Now hurry up, you’re a fucking mess.”

And with that, he’s stepping into the bathroom.

Yeah. Fuck him. Still insufferable.

But god, you really do hope to fuck him again.

[swarovskiseraph]

SOME* OF YA'LL ARE NEVER GOING TO GET YOUR DESIRES, AND YOU'LL HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT YOURSELVES

*WARNING: TOUGH LOVE RANT. also, like everything in life, take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not doing anything i mention in this post, then this post doesn't apply to you.

before anyone comes for me, MOST of us are going through (or have gone through) hard circumstances. many of us have come from abusive households, abusive relationships, poverty, homelessness, & just overall bad circumstances.

but you know why the bloggers & anons who succeed in manifesting their desires/desired lives ACTUALLY SUCCEED?

because they took accountability for their current state and their limiting patterns.

because they were disciplined & determined enough to claim their desire(s), apply the law, & persist regardless of EVERYTHING.

because they knew that this practice would actually change their lives forever and allowed NOTHING to stand in their way.

AND GUESS WHAT? NOW THEY HAVE THEIR DESIRES/DESIRED LIFE!

if you were to be 100% honest and tell me why after months/years of being in this community you STILL haven't manifested your desires/desired life yet, what would be the answer?

overconsumption? procrastination? laziness? lack of persistence?

whatever the case may be, what i do know for a FACT is that it has been no one's fault but YOURS.

many of you guys come running on this platform; asking the same repetitive questions, complaining about not seeing results, whining about how sad your life is and how hard your circumstances are, or just straight up hating on some of these bloggers that are helping you FOR FREE, when they could be using that time to enjoy their desires/the life that they manifested for themselves.

LIKE...DO YOU REALIZE HOW PATHETIC & ENTITLED SOME OF YOU GUYS ARE?

"can you pleaseee manifest/tap into the void for me?" 🥺

"im so lazyyy, i can't be bothered to persist..." 🥱

"loa is FAKE! you guys are a bunch of lying b***hes..." 🤬

"my life is sooo hard, i have such a horrible life...*continues to trauma dump*" 😭

OHHH MYYY F*CKINGGG GODDD!

there are MILLIONS of people in the world who are in unfavorable/horrible circumstances that have NO IDEA what the law of assumption is, and have NO WAY to access this type of information!

you guys literally have the knowledge and awareness to make the most beautiful life possible for yourselves with JUST YOUR IMAGINATION, and yet, A LOT of you guys are the most ungrateful, lazy, irresolute, undisciplined whiners, who don't want to do even the BARE MINIMUM to change your entire lives!!

TRUST ME, everyone on this platform (including myself) understands that there will be setbacks. we all know that they are going to be bad days. we all understand that everyone has their own personal/mental issues. we get that life has obstacles and that not every day will be a win.

BUT, you guys NEED to put in the effort & not give up! you guys NEED to STOP letting your ego win! you guys NEED to get tf off of social media and stop overconsuming information. you guys NEED to claim your desires/desired life, stay consistent & persist until your desires/desired life has materialized.

because guess what, a day turns into a year pretty quickly, and you'll have gone another year of NOT having your desires/desired life, and it's going to be no one's fault but yourself...

do you REALLY want another year of watching everyone else get what they want besides you? do you REALLY want another year of not having your desired appearance, your sp, or financial freedom?

REALLY?

i hope the answer is no...because that's a HUGE waste of time that could be used to actually have the things & life you want.

everyone deserves to live the life they want...but at the end of the day, no one & nothing has the power to manifest the life you want but YOU.

[bbangtans]

daybreak | jjk | oneshot teaser

Summary: One of your favorite things to do when you were in your early 20s was stay up late where reflective conversations eventually blurred into nonsense as the sun rose alongside someone you thought you would spend the rest of your days with… Now you’re stuck in New York City for one night due to a delayed flight with that very person standing there in his leather jacket and guitar case in hand across from you at the airport gate. See, fate is a funny thing and Jeon Jungkook could always find the humor in anything.

pairing: rockstar!ex!jk x f!reader genre/tropes: angst, fluff, exes to ???, right person wrong time/second chances, jungkook is so romance film lead coded – charismatic and well-spoken and genuine and ughhhhh i be fawning frrrr, this takes place where both jk and reader are 28ish, jk is a lead singer in a band with tae-jimin-yoongi, and y/n is a working professional rating/warnings: M | alcohol consumption, lots of swearing, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (don’t be all willy nilly with this tho!!!), dig bick jk lmfao, oral (f receiving), heavy petting, multiple orgasms. a/n: inspired by my faaaaaave movie before sunrise bc if there’s anything namjoon and i have in common, it’s that we are yearners 🤝 word count: ~10k POSTED: link

You cursed every cliched metaphor referencing the elusiveness of time… the grains of sand slipping through fingertips, the ticking of clock hands that echo in the back of your head, the passage of breezes, and the eventual rising of the morning sun. 

Jungkook smiled gently, wiping away a tear with his thumb which you didn’t even feel form as it fell down your cheek. “Don’t worry.”

“I just want you to know that I loved being in this moment. Sharing this night with you, that tonight it felt like New York was all ours. I could have never seen its beauty and experienced its magic the way I did with you.” Barely managing through your cries, you gasped for a breath as you tried to make out the next words. “But why did things have to turn out this way?”

The loud caws of the seagulls as they flew over the pier and the cold morning air fell onto forgotten senses as the only thing you could feel was the intensity of Jungkook’s stare on you. From your forehead that he placed a tender kiss upon, to your eyes that mirrored that silent longing his contained, the nose that he nuzzled against his, and chin that he held softly in his rough hand… It was like he was taking a picture of you at that moment. A moment where he was not rockstar Jeon Jungkook, but the Jungkook who always found a way to make you laugh and the Jungkook you dreamed of sharing matching rings with. And you were not the person living too fast for anyone to keep up with, but a person who could find the beauty in anything and the person that Jungkook could write a million and one songs about.

“Shh,” he comforted you as his arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. “I really can’t thank you enough for tonight… I’ve never hated to see morning as much as I do now.” He chuckled dryly at the irony of all. 

You pulled back, surprising the man who towered over you. You held his confused face in your hands and smiled. “Me, too. I hope you know that.”

“I do now…” He whispered as though louder words could break the moment before placing a chaste kiss on one of the hands that cupped his face.

“Now what?” Your hands fell from his face and rested on his chest. 

Jungkook sighed in contemplation as he peered past you into the blossoming orange horizon before recentering his eyes on you and grin losing its warmth and being replaced with sadness. “Good morning, I guess.”

The gravity of the situation settled upon you both silently.

“None of that dramatic ‘goodbye’ shit in the morning!” You tipsily pointed at Jungkook with your beer who only laughed at your theatrics as some foam spilled.

Between chuckles, Jungkook was barely able to let out. “Okay, then what do we say at the end? When it’s morning?”

“What people always say at that time – ‘good morning’ and not goodbye. Let’s make it a nice ending for us, I feel like that would do us both justice.” Your gaze was too hazy to see the seriousness that lined his face but he shook it off and plastered his signature smile despite the storm in his heart. “I know it’s a little cheesy, but I don’t want to be sad in those last minutes with you.”

“Okay, we’ll bid each other ‘good morning’ when dawn comes then we go on with the rest of our lives. No sad stuff.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“Good morning, Jungkook.” No matter how dazzling your smile was, Jungkook could never be distracted from the tears that lined your gorgeous eyes. 

No physical closeness could ever combat the weight of what daybreak meant for you both.

[carriesthewind]

The IA's "Open Library" is Not a Library, Yesterday's Lower Court Decision does Not "Hurt Authors," and the Planned Appeal Is (Almost Certainly) NOT a Good Way to Try to Change Bad Law (In Fact, It's More Likely to Make Bad Law Worse)

Ok, so a day later, I'm still mad about this. If anything, I'm even madder. I'm going to write this as a response to the Internet Archive's "The Fight Continues" blogpost, but before we begin, let's get some facts straight:

Copyright law in the United States, especially the law around digital lending, currently sucks. It's really really bad, and anyone with a stake in the game - except the big publishers and e-book services that profit from it - hate it.

That said, copyright law exists as a thing. As I said in a previous post, you *can* try to change it through court cases, but there are certain things you cannot change. And there are certain things you can try to change, but it will be an uphill battle to change them in a positive direction. And notably, as bad as digital lending law is in the U.S., it still could always get worse! And one general rule of impact litigation: if you are trying to change the law, you want to make sure you have the best possible facts. Because the worse your facts are, the worse your case is likely to go.

Yesterday's district court ruling DID NOT CHANGE ANY SUBSTANTIVE COPYRIGHT LAW IN THE U.S. I cannot emphasize that enough. Regardless of whatever you think of the ruling, it was applying already existing law to the facts.

This is because the Internet Archive's "Open Library" absolutely violates existing copyright law. It just does! They broke the law, they had plenty of notice they were breaking the law and harming authors (more on that below) and just think the law shouldn't apply because they don't like it.

The Internet Archive's "Open Library" is not a library. Some big ways it differs:

While it pretends to have a one-to-one owned-to-loaned ratio, as the opinion granting the publisher's motion for summary judgement notes, IA concedes that it allows "partner libraries" to add books to its collection and then doesn't check (and has no way of checking) if the book is out of circulation at the "partner library" at the same time it's being "checked out" of the Open Library. In other words, it's like if you took a book, scanned the pages, and then gave the scans to your friend who then loaned the scans out to other people but totally promised they were only lending the scans to one person at a time so it's basically like there is still just one copy! And meanwhile you still own, are reading, and lending out the physical copy of the book. Except instead of one book, they were doing this on a massive scale. NO, THAT'S JUST THEFT.*

Speaking of which, the "Open Library" didn't keep that promise! Their "Emergency Library" just let everyone borrow as many copies at a time as they could! Again, THAT'S JUST THEFT.

Like I'm sorry if you don't like the idea of copyright at all: right now, we live in a capitalist system where authors need to be paid for their work in order to, like, not die. If you take their work, scan it into your computer, and give it away for free to anyone and everyone, THAT'S JUST THEFT.

Also, most authors love libraries! Libraries allow more people to access their books while not substantially impacting their revenue and not impacting their rights! AUTHORS - not just publishers, authors - DO NOT LIKE AI'S "OPEN LIBRARY." Why haven't authors sued to stop this before, why is this the publishers suing? From the above letter: "Even simple copyright lawsuits must be brought in federal court, and often cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. A challenge to the Internet Archive could easily cost millions." Publishers have deep pockets that authors and authors' groups don't. Also, authors who object to AI stealing their work are frequently subject to harassment.

If IA won this case, the new law that would be made is this: it would be legal to steal an author's works.

*I'm using "theft" and "steal" instead of "piracy" throughout this write-up to make it clear what this is. "Pirating books" is just stealing them.

So to sum up the facts above: copyright law in the U.S. sucks, but it exists. Attempting to change it for the better through the court system would be very difficult. Even then, changing the law for the better would likely require a case with good facts. Unfortunately, the law could also change for the worse. Yesterday's ruling did not change any law. The facts in this case are very bad, because the IA absolutely violated copyright law. That is in part because the IA's "Open Library" is not a library; they just steal books. Many (if not most) authors and author's groups don't like that IA is stealing from them. If IA won this case, that victory would mean that anyone was allowed to steal an author's works.

*deep breath*

Ok, let's turn to the IA's statement, "The Fight Continues":

"Today’s lower court decision in Hachette v. Internet Archive is a blow to all libraries and the communities we serve."

The Internet Archive is not a library.

No it's not. It is a blow to the Internet Archive, specifically, because you broke the law and it ruled you broke the law. As stated above, it does not change anything with regard to copyright, including digital copyright, law in the U.S., and therefore does not impact libraries or the communities they serve. If you appeal this ruling, as you have stated you intend to, and the law does change for the worse (which is always a risk of appeal, and a risk that gets worse when you have bad facts), THEN libraries might be affected.

"This decision impacts libraries across the US who rely on controlled digital lending to connect their patrons with books online."

I mean yes, in the sense that "controlled digital lending" isn't normal e-book lending. It's the thing you made up where you steal books and illegally redistribute them.

This genuinely sucks for libraries and communities that don't have other ways of accessing digital books because the current copyright scheme sucks so bad! Real libraries are doing things to try to help, and not just steal from authors! More on that below!

"It hurts authors by saying that unfair licensing models are the only way their books can be read online."

OH GO FUCK YOURSELVES

Ok this line, this line right here? That is honestly why I wrote this whole thing.

How DARE you cloak your theft in the real struggles authors face with unfair licensing models. How DARE you pretend you are on the side of authors when you are stealing their works, and they have made it quite clear that they would like you to stop, please. And how DARE you frame it in this "for exposure" bullcrap that ignores the real struggles that authors have to eat, to get healthcare, to get any sort of fair pay and wages for their work, and instead pretend that all authors should care about is whether or not their books can be read online.

And bluntly? If you - not IA, YOU, tumblr user reading this - if you shared this bullcrap statement and told people to donate money to the IA because of this? If you told people they should steal more books in response (because it's the publishers fault, ignore the real authors who are actually harmed)? How DARE you. How DARE you pretend to be on the side of authors and writers.

"And it holds back access to information in the digital age, harming all readers, everywhere."

Except for those readers who are also authors, and need to eat.

And readers who want to read books that will never get written if authors can't write (because they need to eat).

And also, no it doesn't, because it doesn't change the law. It just applies the law that already exists to you. Because you are not above the law.

"But it’s not over—we will keep fighting for the traditional right of libraries to own, lend, and preserve books."

You are not a library.

You were not (and are not) fighting for "the traditional right of libraries." Plenty of other organizations are fighting against bad copyright law in the U.S. This court case, however, was literally just about you stealing books.

Like I cannot emphasize enough that you were just stealing and you got caught.

"We will be appealing the judgment and encourage everyone to come together as a community to support libraries against this attack by corporate publishers."

You aren't a library.

Fuck you for borrowing the (justified) hatred of corporate publishers to paper over your bad actions.

Does "coming together as a community to support libraries against this attack" mean giving you money, as suggested by the calls to action at the bottom of this page? Because you aren't a library.

"We will continue our work as a library."

You aren't a library.

"This case does not challenge many of the services we provide with digitized books including interlibrary loan, citation linking, access for the print-disabled, text and data mining, purchasing ebooks, and ongoing donation and preservation of books."

First, and most important: these are all uncritically good and important things that the IA does! Despite the rest of this post, I am really really glad the IA exists, that it is doing these things, and I hope that it will continue to do this things!

You are correct that this case does not challenge those services! Because those services aren't just stealing books from authors, which is what you were doing, which is what this case is actually about!

I'm skipping the statement from Brewster Kahle because it's just more of the same. The statement then invites you to Take Action! by donating to IA and positing themselves as standing up for libraries! (They are not a library.)

But real libraries and librarians are actually fighting the good fight over lack of access to materials, especially digital materials and bad laws, and you can support them!

If you actually do want to "come together as a community to support libraries," and support digital access, may I suggest instead donating to The Brooklyn Public Library's Books Unbanned program?:

https://www.bklynlibrary.org/books-unbanned

While they aren't directly challenging bad copyright law, they are directly fighting back against laws that are much more actively and materially impact people's access to books, including providing free e-book and database access to everyone in the U.S. age 13-21. It's a great and important program, and your donations can really help!