#and there's a sense of real fear you don't get in modern media

[booasaur]

Per you recent Will / Ellen gif set, Krys Marshall did a podcast about this ep and said she spoke to Jodi about filming it and Krys learned Jodi wasn't really acting, the tears just came while she watched Will's video. It touched her that much.

Oh, wow, that's so poignant. Especially considering what we know of her own history.

It was a really touching sentiment, even now. I wish the rest of the show would reflect this level of writing.

#replies #femslash related stuff #sent on 20220718 #Anonymous #5 #for all mankind #for all mankind 3x06 #though you know it's interesting #I was reading a f/f book written and published in the late '80s #and there's a sense of real fear you don't get in modern media #even when set in older times #unless it's certain movies I guess #but for the most part the experience is somewhat sanitized for modern audiences #not that I think that's bad #it's just been a long and tough journey huh

[dalesramblingsblog]

I know we've been commenting since The Star Beast on the irony of Russell T. Davies taking Disney money and using it to say trans/gay rights as part of one of the biggest British television events of 2023/2024, but I think Dot and Bubble fully opened my eyes to something I've been quietly contemplating since at least the time of The Giggle.

I am genuinely convinced, knowing everything I know about Davies' comments on the state of the BBC and the kinds of art he's been making of late, that Series 14 is a brilliant and purposeful piece of artistic subversion that has taken Disney's money to not just say trans rights, but to actively comment upon the cold, empty yawning abyss that is modern MCU franchisecrafting.

Time and time again, the show has returned to the idea that that sort of "artistry" is completely anathema in a cosmic horror sense to the very fabric of Doctor Who. The Toymaker is an arbiter of rules and continuity, who threatens to turn Doctor Who into a knock-off of The Avengers before everything collapses back into a game of catch with the Doctor in his underwear.

73 Yards is quite explicitly about the loneliness, emptiness and futility that accompanies human beings trying to impose rational, ordered frameworks and narratives on a fundamentally chaotic and strange universe. The very fact that the episode exists in a media ecosystem where hackish YouTubers will be falling over themselves to make "Ending Explained" videos for it *is part of the point*.

And then we have Dot and Bubble, where the modern glut of franchisal/social media (and the two are often close to interchangeable, as proven by this very blog post) is explicitly shown to have an anaesthetising effect that insulates people from real-world suffering. But it's more than that, because that same anaesthesia ties into expressions of actual, direct racism that are so baked into the foundations of that media and who it tends to uplift (white, conventionally attractive and implicitly straight people) that they become indistinguishable from said suffering.

After years of Doctor Who trying its hand at being a generic MCU-esque property and fans creating mockups of Phase-esque release timelines with a million spin-offs focusing on the Wacky Adventures of Miss Evangelista or whatever other bullshit fandom constantly clamours for, here is an era that puts its foot down and says "Actually, the foundational elements of that brand of media consumption are materially connected to the constant racist or sexist backlash you see against the casting of Ncuti Gatwa or Jodie Whittaker or Kelly Marie Tran."

And it is absolutely, positively, 100% correct.

How, then, does Doctor Who resist the creeping power of this monolithic cultural entity? In a world where studios seriously try to argue for the artistic worth of tripe like Morbius or Madame Web or Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania, what is the appropriate response?

The same response that it's always had, the thing that it's been doing for sixty years. Getting people to learn how to run down corridors from hokey aliens, hoping against hope that those people don't turn out to be massive fucking racists and telling them exactly where they can shove it if they are, and instilling the children of the world with a healthy dose of fear and light-hearted humour.

Welcome back, Doctor Who. God, I have missed you.

#doctor who #dale's ramblings #fifteenth doctor #ruby sunday #ncuti gatwa #millie gibson #s40e5: dot and bubble #russell t davies #dw spoilers #doctor who spoilers #also i just realised that this episode dropped on the first day of pride month just for maximum synergy with #soulless corporate culture's masqueradng as friendly inclusivity and connection #hello rainbow capitalism what are you doing here

[magicstormfrostfire]

Something that confuses me a lot is some people's reactions/analysis to Sonic saving Shadow in the void in Sonic Prime.

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE it, and its parallels to what happened in SA2. That is incredible. But what confuses me is that a lot of people assume that in this show, SA2 happened and Sonic is losing Shadow again.

But I don't think that's the case...? I know it was said that the show follows modern games/everything is canon, but I dont think that means what some people think it means. I've seen some people criticize this interpretation of Sonic BECAUSE they think all of the games happened in this universe.

What I understood is that this is simply using the current ongoing personalities/traits/styles of the modern Sonic characters in games, but this is NOT the same universe. Its a different one. The direction they are going with the characters in Sonic Prime is writing them closer to their mainline game counterparts, just in a different universal setting. The universe is just not as drastic of a difference as say, Movie!Sonic or Sonic Boom's universe. (Which i think is why they made a point to say its following mainline Sonic; because Boom is a universe with its own games, Sonic, and canon as well.)

This is also why I think so many people judge Sonic Prime on what Sonic should know, how he should act, and what he should have learned from. But this is a different universe Sonic! He's a lot more naive and learning to get around. Its why I interpeted that Sonic catching Shadow was not ptsd of losing him again, it was fear of losing him period. This is very likely this Sonic's first world-saving scenario; he's use to just stopping Eggman's latest 'Robot of the week'. He is out of his depth with the shatterverse situation.

Now, I think its totally fair if this kind of 'new & naive' direction with Sonic's character turns people off, or if they dislike/hate it. This is not me trying to pursuade people into liking it if they don't. This is not me saying 'hey if you dislike this, its prolly because you're interpreting it wrong and if you see it this way you will like it.' But I constantly see people criticize the show for not taking into account things that happened in games. Or in this case, praising it for taking account events in the games. Those things didnt happen here! This is a different Sonic!

Of course, I could absolutely be wrong, and if I am, that's fine. But honestly it feels like they're making a different Sonic altogether, and frankly it wouldnt make sense for this to be the exact same Sonic.

So I guess my overall point is that I kind of feel like Prime is being saddled with game expectations it literally cannot meet, via being a different universe. Like I said, hate it, love it, idc I'm not your mom. I just think that this needs to be said and added to the conversation.

('Everything is canon' means 'every interpretation is valid'. Sonic has different universes, so its a lot more validating to fans to say everything happened, instead of alienating entire swathes of fans who all experienced Sonic differently through different media, by saying their experience isn't 'real' or 'true' anymore. And I think the more people realize this, the less people will argue 'evidence XYZ in game and this comic and the Japanese version of this podcast, and this game dev, and this episode, and this writer contradict your theory of Sonic hugging people' you do not need canon as gospel to validate why you like or dislike a certain take.)

Sonic in general is so fun because of how freeform and multiverse and endless it is. We haven't had that in a long time. There are things I love and things I hate, but not because of how closely they follow mainline. Its because I just like or hate it. We should cultivate this new growth and diversity, not prune it to fit into one shape. 🌱

#sonadow #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedeghog #sonic prime #sonic #sth #prime sonic #prime shadow #sonic analysis #shadonic #shasoni #I am begging people to use reading comprehension and do not bitch at me about things you THINK I said #I rarely put out my personal sonic thoughts for this very reason #but ive been sitting on this for a while and havent seen anyone address the whole #'Sonic has ptsd from what happened in SA2' narrative #and it had been bothering me for a while

[namjuicyy]

When Namjoon meets you in a bakery, he never expected to become so obsessed with you.

Namjoon x reader

Strangers to lovers, inspired by You on Netflix.

25+

Word count: 13.8k

Wattpad | Masterlist

WARNINGS: Stalking, non-con, panty fetish, voyeurism, daddy kink, slut shaming, degradation (I mean serious degradation, these are not soft words at all these are borderline feminist issues), power play, use of the word bitch, lesbian phone sex, masturbation, pillow humping, hidden cameras, sex toys, somnophilia, choking, face-slapping, under – non-negotiated kinks, dom/sub, predator/prey, begging, pain kink, lack of foreplay, lack of aftercare (briefly), penis-in-vagina sex, unprotected sex, free-use kink, breeding kink, dacrophilia, size kink, Namjoon has a big dick (wbk), cuckolding (shiiiiit we getting all these kinks in this fic Jesus!), overstimulation, oral sex (f receiving), fear play, a panic attack, obscene use of the word "cunt" (it's actually my favourite word, I think), manipulation, switch!Reader; forced submission, cock-stepping, ruined orgasm,

This story is kind of dark and also kind of creepy. In real life scenarios, this kind of behaviour is never acceptable but as this is a work of fiction it should be treated as such. I am not glamorising or romanticising stalking or any of the more damaging tags that this fic is associated with. Basically, don't do it. It's creepy and weird. Always make sure kinks are fully negotiated before you put them into practice, and also don't stalk people. That isn't okay. And if you are going through that right now, please know that there are so many resources available to make sure you are safe. But also please take care of yourself. I am also not associating Namjoon with any of these traits in real life. Nor am I assuming his real-life sexuality. I reiterate, this is a work of fiction, nothing more. If you are triggered by any of the above tags, DO NOT read this fic. Your mental health is far more important than a story.

Words mentioned in the fic that aren't featured anywhere except The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, John Koenig (I'm testing the waters here so please bear with me):

Ghough: n. A hollow place in your psyche that can never be filled, a bottomless hunger for more food, more praise, more attention, more joy, more sex, more money, more hours of sunshine; a sense of panic that everything good will be taken from you too early, which makes you swallow the world before it ends up swallowing you. Onomatopoeic to the sound of a devouring maw. Pronounced "hawkh", with air drawn sharply inward through the mouth. ­

He couldn't help that he was so obsessed with you. It was your fault really... you shouldn't be so intoxicating that you'd cause his brain to overload with nothing but thoughts of you. You came into his life like an atom bomb, tearing a hole through his planet to the point where he never thought he would recover. All you did was smile at him and ask him if he wanted a bag to carry his pastries home with. But your smile was so pulchritudinous, so enslaving, your hair messy and disheveled from your hardworking nature, and flour all over your sweet face; he was a goner at the very second. He glanced at your nametag and memorised the spelling with such speed he was barely out of the bakery before he'd begun to search for you on social media. The worst part about it all was the fact that he wanted to know so much more about you but didn't want to concern you. He knew that men had a tendency to come on too strong and that you'd probably be on your guard. He wanted you to be at ease with him, to realise that he was the only one who could keep you happy for the rest of your life. If that meant he had to treat you delicately then so be it. Fragile you were, and careful he'd be. He was in it for the long haul, a true gentleman of the modern era.

All he really wanted to know was your work times. He just wanted to know when he'd come into the store and bump into you. Honestly, he had no intention of searching for anything else, except maybe some of the things that you enjoyed so he could strike up a natural conversation with you. But that was it – scout's honour. He discovered from your social media that you were an avid baker, who loved working at the local bakery not because it was a temporary source of income until something better came along, but because this was the better option for you. Sure, you were paid just above the minimum wage, but this was your lifelong passion, and you prided yourself on putting your happiness first. He also unveiled that you had plans to become a business owner yourself, bringing in your main source of income while just doing your hobby. It was a smart idea really – who wanted a job they hated when they could be paid well for what they loved? You were a smart woman. A true unicorn in a field of horses. He decided there and then that you were his soulmate. And as he sat in the park, scrolling through your social media profile and discovering more about you, he was sure the pastries you baked him were the best he'd ever eaten.

He came into the bakery around two days later at the exact time when you would be working. Unfortunately, though, this time your co-worker was manning the till for you, allowing you to hide in the kitchens and not venture into the main room. Last time your co-worker was on a break, which was why you looked so frazzled and stressed. You Tweeted about how the batch that was baking at the time Namjoon entered the premises had burned because you were trying to do everything. Your co-worker was useless anyway. They never helped you. You were running that business as if it were your own. He needed to cause some kind of distraction to get you out there so he could talk to you. But what could he do sneakily? If he caused a scene – you'd panic. He couldn't bear being the cause of one of your anxiety attacks. He also didn't want to fake complain about anything because he knew you'd panic and think you weren't good enough. And he couldn't be the reason that you'd never realise your dream and your full potential. Compliments were good... maybe he could try and pass on a message... but it would be better coming from him and not your idle assistant. If he told her to tell you something, he would have no doubt it would go in one ear and out the other. No, he had to do it in person.

He stepped forward and looked at her nametag. "Excuse me, Emma. Could you grab the chef for me? I would like to compliment her work."

Emma gave him a look that called him peculiar. "Chef? What do you think this is, a restaurant?"

Namjoon simply smiled. "And you're like... twelve?"

A voice came from the kitchens. "Emma, take a break." Emma didn't reply. She only rolled her eyes, picked up her phone and made her way to the back room. Namjoon turned to look at the voice, only to discover it was you.

You were much more put together than the last time he saw you – clearly your day wasn't quite as hectic as it was two days ago. Not that he minded your tousled appearance. On the contrary, he found it cute and endearing, but there was no doubt that you were a Venus on Earth. An eighth wonder of the world that lay undiscovered in the quiet city you both called home. There was a light dusting of flushed pink nestled on your cheeks to indicate some hard work, but not enough to make you break into a sweat. Your hair was back off your face, allowing him to marvel at your refinement. Poised, bright, bubbly, with a smile that could knock anyone off their feet. He was falling for you and falling so fast he wondered just how hard the impact would be when he landed.

Suddenly, you spoke again. Your soft voice dancing into his ears and lifting his spirits just a little more. Oh, how sweet you sounded. "How can I help you, sir?"

Oh, how can you help me indeed, he thought to himself. Wistful thoughts catching him off guard and seemingly turning into a brand-new person. "I-I don't know if you remember me," he was finally able to choke out, "I was here two days ago... I bought some pastries."

You smiled. Of course, he'd buy pastries, this was a bakery after all. "I remember you."

You did? He was sure you were lying to make him feel better. You did, after all, house the kindest heart in your chest. There was no mistaking you wouldn't want him to feel awkward or upset. "Oh, you do? Well, I hadn't been here before and I just wanted to thank you for making such delicious treats. I really enjoyed them! They were my favourites – the best I'd eaten in a long time." Mentally he scolded himself for saying the words delicious treats aloud. Why was he talking so formally to you? And why did it make him sound like an elderly man? It was weird and it made him cringe. You made him so nervous he became overly polite. Why would you bewitch him in such a way he couldn't form sentences without seeming like a creep?

Wait... was that a smile he saw? "How did you know it was me who baked them?" Were you teasing him? There was no doubt you were playful; he knew it from finding your friend's posts about you. He watched you goof around with them with such a childlike freedom. It was wonderful to see you so extricated and alive.

It was his turn to tease, "I'd never mistake a gorgeous face."

You blushed. He'd won. "Well, that's very kind of you to say so, thank you."

"I was wondering if I could get your number?" He bluntly asked, still feeling so shy despite his obvious charm working on you. "I would love to thank you properly for creating such a memorable experience with a memorable experience of my own."

"Oh? And what would this memorable experience be?"

He smiled, "Well, if I told you then you wouldn't want to come. There's nothing wrong with a little mystery, especially for a first date."

Your smile dimmed slightly as you considered your response, no doubt weighing up your options quickly to ensure your safest and most comfortable option. "Of course. Here you are." You gave him your number on a napkin and told him to call you.

The thing you didn't realise was, he had already found and saved your number into his phone. He was just hoping for permission to call you.

Namjoon had scheduled a date for you both the following weekend on your first day off. He had made sure that you had no plans written on your Google calendar, but of course, he couldn't just come out and say that he knew you even had a Google calendar, let alone your schedule. But he just couldn't wait a week to see you. He was buzzing with teenage excitement, lovesick nerves and anxiety that the whole day should go as exactly to plan, and that you had such a good time you would have no reason to not fall in love with him as he had with you. He was aware you wouldn't experience love at first sight. He was convinced he wasn't much of a looker himself, but he knew he had the personality of someone you could hold very close to your heart. You needed time to see how perfect he was for you. And while he was willing to wait for you to fall for him, he refused to wait to see you.

He hadn't been to work in a few days, calling in and telling his boss he had some kind of stomach bug and it was best he stayed home for a while. His boss, like the fool he was, believed Namjoon and told him to take all the time he needed. Of course, Namjoon had no plans to be away for so long, but every day he kept finding himself being drawn to this one place in particular... your house.

Your low income meant that you lived in a small flat in a run-down building just off the main road. You were a few metres away from the nearest bus stop, and the bus that ran near your house wasn't convenient enough to be considered a main route, therefore the price of your rent went down to a mere three hundred per month. Well, the routes were only a small contributor. The biggest was that your neighbourhood was filled with crime. As soon as he discovered this, he became anxious for your safety. Of course, you'd lived there for long enough without him in your life, but the second it was appropriate he would whisk you away to the nicer part of town, nearby your brand-new bakery.

You were on the first floor, and he could see your place through the window on the street. You didn't have any curtains; you were practically inviting him inside. Though, of course, the true reason was that you preferred the natural light and curtains blocked that from you. Even so, you seemed to not care about your possessions or your privacy which was concerning given your location. God, he wanted to be in there with you, feeling your warm body tangled up next to his, snuggled close together on the sofa and watching some kind of trashy show on the television. Something you, especially, were particularly fond of. He had no taste for that rubbish, but for you he'd watch anything.

The days passed so quickly, and Namjoon was shocked to wonder just where they went. Every day he came to your house and watched you live your life, even after your very successful first date. He was still drawn to you. Sometimes he would text you to see your reaction to him, and oh, how it warmed his heard to watch you dive across your living room to get to your phone, and how brightly you smiled when you saw it was him. You acted as though you missed him. You were starting to fall for him too, he could feel it.

There was a burglary in your neighbourhood just two hours after he left your home, and when he heard the news break from one of his colleagues when he finally returned to work, he immediately left to go to your house. He didn't remember what the excuse was he gave his boss. Quite frankly, he didn't care. He needed to know that your place wasn't next.

In his haste, he forgot that you were still at work, which gave him the mental justification to figure out just how safe your house was from intruders. He had to know that you were safe and well protected. He wasn't breaking into your house... not really. He was just testing the home his future wife temporarily called hers. And there absolutely was nothing wrong with that. And it was just as he feared it would be: easy. Namjoon was beside himself. Did you not care about your safety and wellbeing like he did? Did you want people to break into your house? It sure seemed that way given the ease in which your door opened for him, and the lack of curtains hanging from your living room wall. You were inviting anyone to look in, to come in. Maybe that was what you wanted. Maybe there was something dark and twisted inside your innocent head that wanted something bad to happen to you. Maybe you got off to the idea.

And suddenly that was all he could think about. Thoughts consumed him of him breaking into your house and doing as he pleased with your body. His body. How he could play with you while you slept, how he could touch your skin without you knowing. How he could take you any which way he pleased, and you wouldn't have a goddamn say in it. You'd just have to be a pliant girl and take what you were given. Yes. Yes! Fuck, his hand felt good around his cock as he stroked it quickly, picturing your writhing body underneath him. The glint in your eye that was slightly fearful, but mostly full of desire. He knew that your tight, wet heat would feel so much better than his hand, but he just couldn't resist. What if instead of finding you asleep in bed, he found you on the couch? Him being so desperate for you he'd take you then and there. Not bothering to remove your clothes or his for that matter. Just pulling his cock out, moving your panties to the side and fucking into you with reckless abandon. Tugging your bra down to give your perfect breasts the room they needed to bounce uncontrollably with every thrust. Fuck. Taking you in front of the window. Making sure your neighbours saw the man who claimed you. Yes. Mine. Mine! "Mine!"

He came all over your coffee table. His seed pooling on the wood and dripping down onto the laminate floor. Thankfully it was easy to clean and wouldn't leave an unwelcome stain when it was removed. But he couldn't remove it now. He was too tired. Too worked up. The first time he thought of you sexually and he violated himself in your very living room. It was unforgivable yet addicting.

This became a regular occurrence for him. He'd wait until you'd left the house then make his way inside, just so he could be near you – feel you surrounding him. Breathing you in like you were his oxygen. He wouldn't always stay in your living room. Sometimes he'd nap on your bed and envelope himself in your sheets. Sometimes he'd imagine you masturbating for him on the bed, and he'd make himself cum while burying his face in your pillow, praying you rode it multiple times. But that dirty thought gave him an idea... your panties. When he used your bathroom one time, he saw your almost full laundry basket. Yet for some reason, his dumb mind didn't comprehend the fact that your angelic pussy had been caged in some of the fabric, that it would smell like you. He touched himself while he had your panties pressed to his nose, or his tongue rolling over fabric just so he could get the smallest taste of you. He imagined the real thing. Your hands in his hair, your screams of pleasure, the begging you'd do for more. Fuck, he was obsessed with you!

However, one day something unexpected happened: you came home early. He had no idea why you'd come home early – this wasn't your usual pattern of behaviour. You were usually consistent and reliable, yet here you were making the steps to your bedroom while he was standing in it, cock in his hand and jerking it while licking a pair of your panties he'd stolen from the bathroom. To say Namjoon panicked would be an understatement. He knew the implications of his current standing, and the consequences of him being caught. He needed to think fast. You were so close to the bedroom now. His only option was to hide in your closet and pray you didn't come home to change.

Luckily for him, that wasn't the reason you came home.

You were on the phone to someone, but he couldn't tell who it was. He hadn't memorised your calling behaviour yet, so he couldn't tell if you were talking to family, or if this was a business call. Though, when he heard your giggle, and saw the way in which you lay on your bed, this was definitely not a business call.

Your legs spread as soon as your back touched the plush surface of your bed, and instantly, you moaned. He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, secretly watching you from the closet as you removed your panties and rolled your skirt up. He couldn't quite catch a glimpse of your pussy from the angle he was at, but that didn't matter too much for him. He saw your hand dip into the wetness of your cunt to pull up and lubricate your clit, giving it a few tentative strokes before speaking. "Daddy, you're such a tease. Please let me."

As soon as he heard the word 'daddy', he wanted to come out of the closet, turn you onto all fours and pound into you while Daddy was still on the phone. Wanted the dirty pervert on the other end of the line to hear that the woman he was speaking to belonged to someone else. Wanted to hear the primal way in which Namjoon railed his princess. Though, he had to admit, hearing the word 'daddy' being moaned from your plump lips introduced a brand-new kink in him. He wanted you to call him that. He was going to be your daddy.

But one thing he didn't know was how much of a whore you were. He didn't know that you were dating him and had another man on the side. Who was this man? And why did he get most of your attention? As of that moment, he tried not to think too much of it, as your perfect breasts were released from the confines of your bra. His cock, he realised, never went soft. In fact, more blood rushed to it as he watched you play with yourself for another man. As he watched you strip quickly so you were incredibly naked for this person who couldn't even see you. Fuck, your body was just as perfect as he imagined it would be – in fact, it was better than he imagined. He was going crazy.

You moaned and put the phone on speaker. "No please, Daddy. Let me do it. Let me rub my pussy."

A voice came from the other end of the phone, and it certainly put some shock into Namjoon. "Okay, angel. I want you to take a pillow in between your beautiful legs and rub yourself on it. Imagine it's my pussy." A woman? You were having phone sex with a woman – and you called her 'Daddy'? Fucking hell, Namjoon almost came prematurely. You were very quiet about your sexuality online, so he didn't come to expect that you were at the very least bi-curious. He watched you manoeuvre your pillows to a comfortable degree before placing your pussy over the top. Your hips began to move and you let out an incredibly loud moan. No doubt finally feeling good at the relief you were able to experience.

"Daddy, your pussy feels so good against me."

"You like it, baby? Fuck, I wish we were on video call. I wanna see how good you look rubbing against your pillow like a dumb slut."

A cheeky smile passed on your lips as you picked the phone up. Namjoon watched you hide the calling screen and move to take a video. You were filming yourself for your Daddy to tease her. You were a wildcard, and Namjoon hadn't bet on it. One day, he knew you were going to treat him like this too, and he wasn't sure if he was actually ready for it. There were so many times where he thought he was going to cum, he had to pause and just watch you before the lack of stimulation was unbearable. You were so loud for Daddy, there was no doubt the neighbours could hear you, too. Namjoon wondered how many of them were also touching themselves while listening to your heavenly moans. All the more reason to fuck you in front of the window. Remind them that you're not to be touched. He thought, squeezing his balls. He watched as your hips moved faster, heard as your moans grew louder, and came on your closet door when you soaked your pillow.

As it turned out, you were quite partial to touching yourself and did it so frequently that you knew exactly how to please yourself. And Namjoon wished he could always time his visits when you would be touching yourself so he could have his live show again and again. And knowing he missed so much of you already had prompted him to purchase a series of cameras. They were tiny things that could be hidden easily, even in plain sight, and so he did. The main bulk of the cameras were hidden in the two rooms you spent most of your time: the living room and the bedroom.

It became his routine to monitor them at the end of the day before bed. He'd watch you almost on a live stream during the weekend, so he didn't miss a thing, and coincidentally was also the time that you came alive. What he hadn't anticipated was that your personal escapades were in no way exclusively tied to the bedroom, and in fact, sometimes you'd just stuff your pussy full while watching TV. You'd spread your legs and prop them up on the coffee table, and mindlessly pound away, letting the dildos get bigger and bigger each time you no longer felt satisfied. You didn't always hit orgasm every time you used them, but Namjoon certainly did. He thanked his lucky stars he bought cameras with microphones, because he might have lost his mind if he didn't hear you. So many hours of you playing with yourself, so much content for him to jerk off to. He couldn't quite believe it.

He experimented with you a few times without you knowing it. Sometimes he'd text you while you were in the middle of fucking yourself, asking about what you were up to or trying to start a conversation. He was surprised to see you continue to play with yourself while texting him with a completely innocent smile on your face where you were so happy to hear from him. Other times he'd call you. He never expected you to answer the phone, but sometimes you did. If he wasn't watching you take in a cock that was above the average size, he would assume that you were doing nothing. You were able to hide the pleasure in your voice so well from him, but he could always see your face screwed up in ecstasy. Or even mouthing the occasional expletive to cope with the incredible bliss you were feeling. It wasn't even as if you were going easy on yourself, sometimes you were bouncing on the cock you'd wedged in between the couch cushion or suctioned to the laminate floor.

Despite you both dating for almost a month, he was yet to be officially invited into your house, or into your pussy. He tried – subtly, but the attempt was still there. But you weren't having it. It wasn't that you didn't want to. In fact, Namjoon had audible and visual proof that sometimes you would bounce on an above-average cock and call out his name. He wanted to know what you were thinking of during those times: what you imagined him doing to you. He hoped it was the same as what he'd imagined. But of course, he'd never force that on you. Traumatising you was the last thing he wanted. So he bade his time, waiting for the day that you gave him the honour.

He was invited into your house before you allowed him to sleep with you. The two of you went out to drink one Saturday night, and you got more wasted than he did. But, of course, he was a gentleman. He took you home and got you to bed. He would never take advantage of you. He didn't touch you inappropriately or force you to do anything he wanted you to do. Even when you made a grab for his crotch and begged him for it. He wanted your first time together to be completely sober so you'd both remember it. It didn't stop him from getting hard, though, and it certainly never stopped him from stroking his cock over your sleeping body, remembering what it was like to ever so briefly feel your touch in the area he wanted it the most.

He watched your eyes flicker and heard your sleepy sighs as the head of his cock got closer and closer to your face, touching your lips gently. He was imagining your lips wrapped around it, how warm and wet it would feel and how good you'd suck him. There were thoughts crossing his mind about how easy it would be to violate you right now. How he had to fight himself from reaching down and playing with your clit, knowing your pussy was smooth to the touch and wet. How he could spread your legs and sink his length inside and you'd probably know nothing of it until you woke up the next morning. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" He whispered, eyes trained on your lips where his precum was beading and dripping onto. "You've wanted me to take this tight little cunt for months. Dirty whore."

He wondered what would happen if you woke up. He expected you'd be surprised but you'd consent very quickly. It never took much work to get you wet, after all. In fact, he'd even seen you gagging for it a few times, begging to no one when you'd fuck yourself stupid, hoping for someone to take you and rail you. He knew how filthy you could be, how open-minded you were, and even the stuff you'd say to yourself as you rode your various dildos. Even the fantasies you'd share with Daddy. How you'd pull your nipples and beg for someone to spit in your mouth or choke your pretty throat. How you'd even slap your own face and clit when you were told to.

The image of you underneath him, cheeks and neck red from where he'd been slapping you and choking you sprang in his mind. And the wild, delirious look in your eyes telling him you loved the pain he was giving you was what tipped him over the edge, spilling his cum onto your lips and watching it roll down your chin and cheeks. Of course, he cleaned you up gently so not to disturb you, but put the image of his cum on your face in the back of his mind to save for a later date. For now, he'd sleep.

He woke before you, his back sore from sleeping on the floor all night so as he could continue to take care of you but not invade your personal space more than what he did last night. Thanks to all his previous rummaging when you weren't around, he was able to remember what you had in your cupboards and fridge, allowing him to make you both the perfect hangover breakfast. He had planned to serve you breakfast in bed, waking you up gently with water, grease and an anti-sickness tablet. But you'd entered the kitchen long before he was ready to dish up. He stopped cooking and immediately turned to you, incredibly politely stopping what he was doing. "I'm sorry I did this without asking you first. I just wanted to surprise you."

You were not offended by his actions in the slightest. Instead, your eyes conveyed gratitude and warmth. You stood on your tiptoes to give him a gentle, yet tired, kiss on his lips. You teased him, "I'm angrier at you for letting me get drunk last night."

"All the more reason for me to make you the ultimate cure."

You poured yourself a glass of water and that was when Namjoon noticed it: your attire. You'd changed from last night, no doubt uncomfortable in those tight, ass-hugging jeans. Instead of being appropriately covered around a man who you still didn't fully know yet, you opted to wear an oversized shirt and nothing else. You definitely weren't wearing a bra. He'd seen you in your loungewear enough to know what your perfect tits looked like both caged in fabric and free. Maybe others couldn't tell the difference, but he certainly could. Knowing how you liked to be comfortable, he could also make an educated guess that you eschewed the option to wear your panties, too. The thought made him a little hard in his briefs.

You broke the silence and leant up against the counter next to him, looking up at his face as you spoke. "I want to apologise to last night. Or rather, apologise for anything I did or said to you that might have been a little rude."

Namjoon smiled, "You did nothing that wasn't welcomed."

"That means I did something."

"I'm certainly not holding it against you."

You groaned, "Oh God, what did I do?"

"Honestly, it's okay."

"No," you begged, "please tell me so I can properly apologise."

Namjoon sighed, "You grabbed my crotch and asked me to spend the night with you... in a nutshell."

You buried your head in your free hand. "I am so, incredibly sorry. I honestly don't know what I do when I'm that drunk. I promise, it's nothing that I would normally do."

"Like I said, I'm not holding it against you."

You breathed a sigh of relief, then paused. Namjoon could hear the cogs in your brain working as you thought about something. "Wait... you said that I didn't do anything that wasn't welcomed. So, how long have you waited for me, and wanted me to grab your cock and beg for sex?"

Namjoon stopped cooking and looked at you. He lowered his voice, "Now, baby, I never said you begged."

"Do you want me to beg for it?"

Namjoon turned to face you, and gently put his hand on your throat. There was no constriction: he allowed you to move his hand or move your body if you were uncomfortable. But you didn't move. You didn't even flinch. It was impressive the way you just smiled at him and held his wrist in place. It was almost as if you wanted him to tighten his grip – so he did. "What I want is neither here nor there, but I know that I'll have you crying for me. You'll be on your knees begging for me without me even having to order you."

Namjoon heard the little whimper that came from the back of your throat. He noticed the way your thighs were squirming, trying to relieve the pressure of your arousal. And he saw the way you swallowed to try and whet your very dry throat, but to no avail.

Suddenly, his grip on your throat loosened and his hand fell to his side. His attention turned back to cooking, though he could see your shock in his peripheral vision. He shrugged his shoulders, "But I don't know if we're ready for that kind of step yet. I wouldn't want to rush things."

He didn't need to see your face to know how stunned you were by the whole situation. If you were anything like him, which he had seen you were recently, he knew you would be contemplating getting on your knees and begging for him to rail you. It was hard enough for him to conceal his arousal from you. He didn't want you to see just how much you affected him.

You, however, did something that Namjoon wasn't expecting. You turned away from him and made your way over to an empty counter. As soon as you sat on it, you called Namjoon's name. When he turned to look at you, he watched you spread your legs for him – a sudden confidence he only saw when you were on the phone with "Daddy". His suspicions about you were correct in that you were wearing absolutely no underwear whatsoever, allowing him to see your perfect pussy in its entirety. He dropped the spoon he was holding and stared at your body, his mind turning numb.

Cutting the tension in the air, you spoke, "Remind me again, who's in charge?"

Touché, he thought. Finally, he was brought back to Earth. He turned the food off and strode over to where you were sat, immediately grabbing your cheeks and pulling you in for a rough kiss. He pressed his body so close to yours, you could feel his length press up against your core. The temptation was too irresistible, and the kiss was broken when you began to rub your clit against his clothed cock. You both moaned, though his was a little louder than yours. He buried his face in your neck and kissed a sensitive spot, humping against your pussy a little more desperately than he intended. His hand found its way to your hair and tugged, showing you his fullest intent to be as rough as he possibly could be with you. He wanted you to know what kind of things he enjoyed, knowing you enjoyed them to. "Do you think you're ready for me, baby?" He asked breathlessly.

You couldn't reply, all you could do was nod your head and hope it was enough.

It wasn't. Namjoon told you, "You need to use your words."

"Yes." You replied.

"Good girl. I'm going to fucking ruin you."

There was no foreplay involved, both Namjoon and you knew it wasn't necessary. You liked it when it hurt. So he simply pulled himself out of his trousers and entered you, staring directly into your eyes and watch them flicker with a plethora of emotions: pain, lust, pleasure. Your breath was taken away from you the moment you felt his head breach your walls. He was much, much bigger than you anticipated, and it hurt a little more too, but it didn't deter you, nonetheless.

Namjoon wanted to make the pain not so prominent to begin with, wanted to allow you the opportunity to get used to him and his size before he completely wrecked your insides. However, you had other plans. Your own hand went up to his hair, tugging at his roots. You smiled, and with a low voice you said, "Is that all you got?"

Upon hearing your words, he uttered, "You asked for it." And began to treat you exactly how you wanted. Clearly you wanted it rougher, and harder. Clearly you wanted to be treated like nothing more than a cheap whore. He'd seen the things you got off to, looked at your browsing history when you weren't home. He knew you were nothing more than a filthy slut, who enjoyed being used, and broken, and passed around. Though he didn't want his first time with you to be overshadowed by the darkest of your kinks, it seemed to be the only way to get you off. So, he was going to make this hurt in the best ways.

His hand returned to your throat again, squeezing a lot harder than he should have. His free hand came up to your face, and slapped it so hard it made you slightly dizzy. Then he slammed into you, burying himself immediately to the hilt. He wasted no more time, pulling out and crashing back inside. Over and over again. You were silent at first and had Namjoon been in a different mindset he would have been concerned. But you'd unleashed something neither of you knew existed, and now all Namjoon was concerned about was his own pleasure.

"This is all you're good for, isn't it?" Namjoon asked. His voice was breathy and husky. "Nothing but a place for me to put my dick."

You tightened in response to his words, letting out an extremely loud moan at one rough thrust.

"Whoring yourself out to the first man who takes care of you." He tsked. "Shameful bitch!"

Tighter.

"I bet you thought you were safe with me, didn't you? Fuck." You felt so good. So tight. Getting tighter and he couldn't help himself. "I bet you thought I wouldn't do anything to you. Didn't you?" Namjoon grew impatient at your lack of verbal response, and slapped your face again. "Didn't you?"

"Yes!"

"Yeah." He chuckled. "Dumb bitch." His pace picked up. He had you trapped in between the cupboard and his solid body. "You begged me for this last night, don't you remember?" He moaned loudly. "Had me so hard. I could have fucked you then. Do you know what I did instead?"

Your pussy got tighter in anticipation. He allowed your hand to snake down and play with your clit.

"I jerked off over you. Came all over this pretty face of yours."

"Shit!" The speed of your fingers picked up. Your head banged gently into the cupboard door every time he entered you.

"Should have taken a video. Showed you what I did to you. You'd wanna see it, wouldn't you?"

"Yes! Oh fuck, Namjoon! I-"

You came. You came so hard all over his cock that you stopped breathing. Your mind was filled with the images he'd put in there, the whole idea that this seemingly sweet and charming man could do something so vile. You should have been disgusted. You should have felt frightened, but instead you squirted so hard, you forced him out of you and ruined his clothes with your juices.

Namjoon didn't allow you to recover, though. Instead, he pulled you off the counter, turned you around, and forced you to bend over. "Take you from behind. Remind you what a filthy goddamn animal you are." Entering you again, he picked up his pace. "Give me that cunt." His hands were roughly grabbing at your hips, giving him the leverage to rail you as hard as possible. His voice was deeper than you'd ever heard it, and he was moaning and grunting so loudly. The sound of him was getting you more turned on than ever. You'd never been with a man as vocal as Namjoon, as willing to talk dirty and just let you hear how much he was enjoying your body. The verbal confirmation was enough to drive you insane.

"N-Namjoon, did you – fuck – did you touch me?"

"When?"

"Last night wh-when you jerked off."

"No." Why did you feel disappointed? "Did you want me to?"

"Yes!" God, your cunt was responding so well to this. It loved these details, this whole scenario. It was so greedy, practically begging for more. You weren't even sure if you could have more.

"Tell me, slut. What did you want me to do to you?"

Now it was Namjoon's turn to become putty. "W-wanted you to touch me. Touch my clit. Lick it. Oh fuck! Namjoon, right there! Please don't stop! Please!"

"What else, bitch?"

"F-force me to cum! Make me take your cock! W-wanna wake up to you using me."

"Yeah? You wanna be my fucking flesh-light, don't you? You're disgusting. Turn you into my breeding bitch, what do you think?"

"Yes! God, yes! Breed me, please!"

"Keep you tied to the bed and stuffed full of my cum."

"T-tell your friends I'm there, they c-can use me too!"

Namjoon wrapped his forearm around your neck and pulled you up to him, choking you for real this time. Breathing had become painful and even more difficult with him still forcing his cock inside of you. "No!" He said loudly. "You're mine! You belong to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes!" You choked out.

Namjoon released his grip on you, and you fell forward gasping for air. "Yes, who?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Dumb slut. You're mine. You're my property now. To use and fuck whenever I want. No one else can have this cunt, do you understand me?"

"I understand!"

"God I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna fill you up so good. Knock you up. Show everyone who you belong to."

"Please cum inside me! Cum inside your filthy cunt, sir."

"Touch yourself. Make yourself cum again."

"I can't."

He grabbed hold of your hair and tugged. "You can and you fucking will."

You did as you were told. Your pussy was so oversensitive that any touch was kind of painful. But it felt so delicious. Once you started rubbing your clit, despite the ache, you couldn't stop. You had truly lost your mind to Namjoon, allowed him to take over your entire consciousness. You were just his obeying toy. His personal plaything. You heard him grunt loudly behind you, his voice turning into a predatory growl, before feeling him fill you up with his cum. The growl did something new to you; the shock of it making you hit your second orgasm. Then... darkness.

You woke up in your bed, covered up completely by your duvet and surrounded by nothing but warmth. You don't remember how you got there but moving had proven to be too difficult for you. Your pussy throbbed unbearably, reminding you of what took place in your kitchen. You wanted it again though. Oh, you loved that side of Namjoon.

He was underneath you, your head on his chest and both of his arms wrapped around you holding you impossibly close to him. He was asleep, but your squirming had made him wake a little, grumbling something when you moved your head to look at his face. Sleepy, dragon eyes looked back at you, with a small grin accompanying them. "Hi." You whispered.

"Hi."

You paused. "Namjoon, did you really touch yourself over me last night?"

Namjoon replied immediately, "No. Sorry, I said that in the heat of the moment."

"Oh, no. It's okay. I liked it."

"You did?" Namjoon could tell that you wanted to say something, but you were hesitant to. "What is it, my love?"

"If you did want to... you know... touch me while I slept or even do more things to me, that would be okay."

Namjoon smiled. "Do more things?"

"Yeah, you know."

"I don't know, you're going to have to use your words." You buried your face in his chest. "Why are you shy all of a sudden?"

"It's awkward."

"What things did you want me to do?"

"You can fuck me if I'm asleep if you wanted to. I love the idea of being used whenever and wherever."

"Yeah? You really want to be my own toy?"

You nodded.

"You're so cute." He told you, gently booping your nose.

Things were good between the two of you for a while. He would come to your house every day and you'd both be tangled up in the sheets, sometimes going multiple rounds. You couldn't get enough of each other. The only bump in the road you hit was when he found out about your side-hustle: your sex work. You had been posting yourself online for a while to make up for the money you lost at the bakery and had found yourself a few clients. One in particular, "Daddy", you'd speak to on a regular basis. You didn't know her real name, but you knew a lot about her and her life. She was a long, blonde-haired businesswoman who was a closet lesbian and a mother to two children. Both of whom were in upper middle and high school. She would pay you hundreds, if not thousands per session, sometimes through bank transfers, other times through fun toys and clothes through the mail.

Namjoon had known about Daddy for a while, of course, but he hadn't made that fact known to you. He wanted to wait for the opportune moment when it would feel organic and not as though he were watching you through several cameras at any given moment. On his way to your house, he checked the cameras as he usually did, expecting to find you getting ready for their date that night, but instead he found himself watching you figure out how to tie yourself up using beginner's bondage equipment. He also could make out something pink inside you, but the picture was too small for him to be able to see for certain what it was. Though, he felt he could assume it was a vibrator of some kind. He connected his headphones to his phone to allow the full experience. He was annoyed that you were still doing this, but he was going to enjoy it as much as he could while he could.

You were grunting and groaning from the pressure you were putting on your body, contorting in random shapes to fit your limbs into the fabric cuffs. Now, lay on your back, propped up against your pillows with your legs wide open, your attention was drawn to Daddy on the phone. "Are you ready, Princess?" Daddy asked you in a sweet tone.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl. We're going to start gently, okay?"

The sound of the toy was almost non-existent. Through the headphones, Namjoon couldn't hear anything at all underneath your soft sighs and gentle whines. You had begun squirming already. How were you all tied up and still adorable? You could barely cope with the pleasure that you were being given at any time, always trying to squirm away from it whenever you could.

Namjoon scrunched his face in disgust when Daddy spoke again. "How's that, Princess?"

Breathlessly, you responded, "F-feels good already." All the blood drained from his head and went straight to his cock at the sound of your voice, fucked out already and you hadn't even begun your session. He could feel himself chubbing up, watching you writhe and chase your pleasure.

"I wonder what happens when we do this..."

You thrashed a little more violently on the bed after Daddy had finished speaking. She had turned the vibrator up significantly given your reaction.

"It's too much!" You cried. "I can't!"

"Yes, you can."

"Ah!" The vibrator went up a little more. You were trembling so much. Namjoon knew how it felt to be above you when you shook like that. He strained against his zipper. It was too uncomfortable. All the while, you screamed, "Oh, fuck! Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

"There?" Daddy asked.

"Yes, Daddy!"

Fuck. Hearing the word on your lips did something to Namjoon. He had never been interested in that kink before, but you were changing him. You were making him more perverted than he had ever been. It sounded so sweet, so sexy coming from your lips. Any other woman would have made him cringe.

"Do you want to cum, Princess?"

"I do. I wanna cum, Daddy. Can I cum?"

"Cum for me."

And so you did. Your back arched and your legs moved inward attempting to close and clamp around the vibrator, but the restraints held you back. You went silent for a moment as the initial shock of the orgasm hit you, but once you regained your breath, you were loudly moaning. Usually, you would push Namjoon away a little as a sign you needed a few seconds to regain the mental capacity to continue, but Daddy wasn't in the room, and you couldn't remove the vibrator yourself. The pleasure you were feeling began to dance the line between unbearable pain and overwhelming gratification. And watching your reaction to this... torture, Namjoon had to rub his cock over his pants as discreetly as he could without drawing too much attention to himself. He couldn't be arrested for public indecency as he watched his girlfriend being virtually fucked by her sugar-mommy.

By the time Namjoon arrived at your house, you were on your fourth orgasm of the night. He snuck in and put his phone away when he peeked into the bedroom to watch the live version. You were so much more ethereal this way: covered in sweat, panting hard, tears running down your cheeks. You were absolutely fucked out, but Daddy hadn't finished with you yet. Your fifth orgasm hit just moments after. You had no idea that Namjoon was in your house, or even standing in your bedroom door. Your eyes were shut tight and your mouth was open in a silent scream.

Fifth.

Namjoon unbuttoned his jeans and started touching himself at the sight of you. Debauched and destroyed at the hands of another person. God, he couldn't wait to do this to you.

The sixth orgasm was your final one. Daddy made some excuse after turning the vibrator off and left abruptly, not bothering with aftercare or making sure you got out of your harness okay. That made Namjoon mad, but at least he was here to take care of you. To look after his most precious prize after she was cruelly abandoned by someone she shouldn't even be talking to. But that was okay. You'd come to your senses eventually. You'd see how wonderfully he treated you compared to others. He, of course, couldn't let what transpired in front of him pass by without a punishment.

The noise of him adjusting himself and shifting his weight caused you to look over in his direction, a look of panic on your face until you realised it was him. And then you realised. "H-how long have you been standing there?"

"Since orgasm number four."

"Namjoon, please! I can explain. Just untie me and we can talk."

Namjoon sat on the side of the bed. "Talk? About how I just watched my girlfriend get dominated by another woman?"

"No, please. It's not what it looks like. She pays me. Please, untie me. We can talk about this."

You looked so desperate and vulnerable, lying there watching him coming towards you. Stalking his prey before he was about to attack. He put his index finger on your clit and began to put pressure on it, pushing you into oversensitivity and making you scream. "So, you really are a whore, aren't you? I couldn't believe it. My sweet, beautiful girlfriend loves being called one, she couldn't actually be one, could she? But here you are," he added more pressure, "offering this tight little cunt up to the highest bidder." He leant over you, biting your ear as two fingers pulled out the toy. "You like it when people use you for their own pleasure, don't you? If I used you now, how much would you charge me, hm?" He spanked your pussy. "How many other cocks have been in this filthy pussy?"

"Please." You whimpered.

Namjoon imitated your voice. "Please." He laughed, almost maniacally. It scared you. But the more insane he seemed, the longer he toyed with your sensitive core, the more turned on you felt.

Suddenly, his hand left your vulva and gripped on tightly to your cheeks. He bent over you, dropping his mouth to your ear and mumbling, "I'm going to fuck you, little slut." His free hand reached down to his cock and freed it from his jeans and underwear. He moved on top of you, trapping your legs to the bed underneath him. It was evident to you now that your comfort never crossed his mind. It shouldn't turn you on. The idea of being nothing more than his cum receptacle should repulse you. But despite the discomfort your body was in, your mind and heat were fully ablaze with arousal. He lined himself up and pressed the tip to your waiting core. "I'm going to fuck you, and you're going to lie there and take it."

Without any other warnings, he slammed into you, causing you to cry out. The headboard shook violently with each thrust, reminding you that you were insignificant right now. All of his weight was on top of you, nearly smothering you. You had no choice to lie there and take it. You couldn't fight him even if you tried. Part of you wanted to. Part of you wanted to see how vicious he'd get if you pretended to resist. When he was so animalistic in the way he was taking you. This wasn't the Namjoon you knew. But, God, you loved how he was abusing you. The noises you were making, you hardly recognised yourself. While Namjoon had devolved into a primal state, you, too, weren't far off. Howling at the top of your lungs every time he slammed into you. "You vile fucking bitch. You fucking love it, don't you?" His words were venomous.

"More."

"You're fucking shameless, aren't you? Fuck. How many men have fucked your tramp pussy, hm? How many women have watched you play with yourself for money? I bet the whole city watches you, and gets off to you whoring yourself out." His fingers dug into your flesh the harder he fucked you. In his head, he could see a line of men queuing outside your bedroom door, lining up to bury themself inside you, throwing money at you when they'd finished. There would be copious amounts of cum all over you, inside you, staining your bedsheets. There'd be bills strewn about the place. He imagined someone rolling up a bill and putting it inside you while you lay on your bed still tied up. Sometimes he'd see you taking multiple cocks at the same time. He hated the idea of other men touching you but watching them do unspeakable things to your whore body forced a visceral, almost primal reaction out of him.

In that moment, you were no longer human to him. His brain didn't register that you could feel things, that you could even speak. Somehow, he had the ability to get rougher with you; hands holding your flesh tighter, cock violating your cunt, you tied up and powerless beneath him, unable to stop it or save yourself from this violent onslaught.

Your orgasm was building. Your breaths were getting shorter and shorter. Your vision becoming blurry.

"Shit! Now look at you. Falling apart on my dick after showing yourself off to someone else. You can't get enough can you?"

His sweat was dripping from his face onto yours, his teeth grazed your perfect skin almost threateningly. His breath was ragged, tired. It seemed as if he couldn't breathe either.

"Sir," you breathed, "cumming." That was the only word you were able to say before you reached your peak, tightening painfully around his cock. This orgasm was bordering on painful, and you tried to get away; fight for a bit of respite before he continued. But as his whole weight was on top of you, you were truly trapped and fully at his mercy.

Namjoon took a second to look up at your face, flushed and perfect. A peaceful expression on your face, though. You'd passed out. Your exhausted body had gone limp while you attempted to regain some strength. And something else in Namjoon came back. You were unable to stop him before, there was nothing to stop him now. "I can't wait to look back on this, Princess." He told you.

He took this opportunity to quickly untie the useless restraints you wore, and flipped you onto your stomach. With you in the prime position for it, he was tempted to take your ass. Force his way inside and make that hole his too. But, somehow, he resisted the urge. He slid back into your wetness and continued his ministrations, speedily approaching his own release. He was going to cum so hard this time. He could feel the strength building, and building.

"I can't wait to watch me brutalising your cunt over and fucking over. God I'm gonna cum. T-take it. Take my cock. Take my fucking cum!"

With a shout, he collapsed onto your back, emptying himself into you. His orgasm felt never-ending. Breathing was difficult. He wasn't even sure if he had the energy to pull out. He had to, though. He had to clean you up and take care of you. He felt gross upon reflecting on the words he uttered to you. The atrocities he uttered were unspeakable, yet he spoke them. And you came for him while he did. Regardless, guilt was beginning to set in for the first time in this relationship.

When you came to, you immediately felt heavily ghough. Hollow, numb. Not feeling Namjoon's touch immediately when you woke up sent you spiralling from a sub drop you'd never experienced before, overwhelmed and panicking. That was when Namjoon came into the room.

"Hey, hey." He said softly. "None of that, Baby. Come here." He set down the items in his hands on your bedside table and scooped you up into a hug. You had never felt more vulnerable than right now, crying into his bare shoulder when you were almost entirely naked. If it weren't for the sheet covering you, you'd be exposed to him completely.

"I'm s-sorry f-for not t-telling you about-" The attempt to apologise for lying to him was ruined by your sobs. But Namjoon just rocked and shushed you.

"I'm here, Baby. I'm here. You're safe. It's okay."

"I-"

"Don't talk. Just cry. I was too vicious to you wasn't, I? You're not any of those things. I love you so much." He kissed your cheek. "You're so kind..." he kissed your forehead. "And beautiful..." he kissed your other cheek. "And you are my entire world." He kissed your lips so softly, you could barely feel him. "And I love you." He pulled away from you briefly. "What did I just tell you?"

"That you l-love me."

"Good girl. Precious girl."

Though he was a little further away from you now, he still had his hand on your body, making sure that you could physically feel him at all times. He reached over and handed you the glass of water that he brought in. "Tiny sips, Baby." You obeyed, earning you praise to warm your heart. With every sip of water you took, you could feel yourself becoming calmer and calmer until all you felt was exhaustion. He had also handed you your favourite chocolate bar and told you to eat it in front of him, to get some of your sugar back up. He promised you pizza for later, and beckoned you to rest your head on his chest. As you snuggled into his body, you felt his finger tips brush up and down your spine, relaxing you and making you drift off to a deep and exhausted sleep.

Weeks later, on Namjoon's birthday, you made a somewhat disturbing discovery. You had only been to Namjoon's house a few times since you two began dating, given that most of your meetings were either out in the world or at your home. You were unsure why that was, but never thought anything of it. There were hundreds of innocent reasons as to why a person may not want to spend time in their own home, and if Namjoon wasn't ready to share his secrets with you, then who were you to force him? All in due course.

You, unbeknownst to your boyfriend, had booked the day off work to surprise him and celebrate his birthday with him when he returned. You hadn't meant to go snooping, honestly. It's just, you wanted to check on the arrival of the bespoke cake you'd ordered to his house. Your phone wasn't being helpful – stupid mobile sites – so you decided to do the next logical step and borrow his laptop. If you cleared the browsing history and site cookies, he'd be none the wiser. It would be fine.

Though, all your good feelings left when you opened his laptop (which didn't have a passcode on it) and saw that he'd left his last application open. Upon an automatic refresh, your mouth widened in shock and horror to find yourself looking into your own house. Multiple cameras installed at varying angles to capture the entirety of every single room. Live feeds with a constant recording so they could be viewed on demand, cut into various clips whenever something interesting happened. There were few videos of you doing mundane tasks. But most of the videos you saw showed you in your most intimate positions, either being fucked by Namjoon or touching yourself. Or on the phone to Daddy.

One by one, you scrolled through these videos, watching the scenes unfold. These dated back to the beginning of your relationship. You watched the videos when Namjoon fucked you and felt yourself get wet. One of the more recent videos being when he punished you for playing with Daddy. You remembered that night so vividly, it often became masturbation material when Namjoon wasn't around. To be able to watch it happen as though you were a stranger was more of a turn on than you'd anticipated. But then you saw videos you knew you weren't meant to see.

Namjoon let himself into your house frequently, especially at the beginning. And sometimes he'd still be in your apartment when you came home. You watched him hide in your closet, and some of the angles showed him stroking himself. You watched him sniff and lick your panties, cum over them and other things around your house, including the dildos you kept in the living room and the rim of your favourite mug where your lipstick stains were.

Way back in the beginning of the relationship, you found it peculiar that Namjoon would contact you while you were in the middle of playing with yourself. Sometimes, you'd be bouncing on the dildos in your living room and he'd call you. You thought it was an odd coincidence, nothing more, but now you knew the truth. He'd been watching you for months, stroking his cock to these secret videos of you and calling you to see if he could hear your moans. Your pussy throbbed at the thought.

You felt disgusted with yourself. The man you loved and trusted above all others had violated you. He filmed you without your knowledge or consent, broke into your home to defile your things, and watched you in your most private moments. You should be angry with him. You should hate him. Report him to the police at the very least. He wasn't sane – or normal. No ordinary person would do something like this. But your hand was now working over your clit, rubbing yourself while watching the evidence. Bucking your hips and stifling your moans as you watched yourself on screen, watched how your body responded to the pervert and listened to yourself wail for him. Watched him masturbate over your sleeping body. Listened to his horrific words.

"I can't wait to watch me brutalising your cunt over and fucking over. God I'm gonna cum. T-take it. Take my cock. Take my fucking cum!"

You wished you were awake to have heard that. You wished he'd said it in your ear while you were cognitive and present. Hearing that one word had your cunt clench and your fingers involuntarily work faster and harder. If you heard it from him, it would have hurtled you into another orgasm just like it had when hearing it through his laptop speakers, cumming all over your fingers and dripping on his dining room chair.

When you'd come back to your senses, you sat there for a little while contemplating what had just happened, and what steps you should take next. The logical side of you was very much screaming at you to run as fast as you could to the other side of the world and never tell him where you'd gone. Or at least to the police station to report him for the crimes he'd committed against you. The darker side of you, however, was almost begging you to mess with him. You could have so much fun now that you knew what he was doing. You struggled with the internal fight for the rest of the night, even when Namjoon was deep inside you, none-the-wiser that you knew his dirty little secret. While he was being gentle with you, making love to you, all you could hear was how he sounded when he told you he'd brutalise. The image of him choking you and ruining you had you cumming so hard for him. And he had no idea that you knew.

You avoided Namjoon for a few days after that, and it drove him insane. He wasn't used to going no-contact with you, or even not seeing you for more than eight hours at a time. When you told him that you needed to stop and think about things his imagination went into overdrive. He was glued to his computer screen during that time watching to see if anyone else entered your house, or if you were spreading your legs for another person. He didn't know what he would do if you were having an affair with someone else. But to add to his confusion, you saw no one. Not your best friend, not your family... you didn't even go to work. And he was worried you were spreading your legs for someone else, but you didn't even do it for yourself. That was when he knew something was wrong. He once joked that you masturbating was like a golden retriever eating; if it didn't happen then there was truly a problem.

After five days of hearing nothing from you, he finally received a text. He leapt at his phone when he realised it was you, and answered immediately. Responding to your invitation to come to your house. He was in a taxi faster than he ever had been before, and was at your house within 20 minutes.

You greeted him at the door, in an oversized t-shirt and bicycle shorts, his favourite outfit combination. The shorts always hugged your curves so perfectly, and the oversized t-shirt hung off your breasts. You looked delectable... but also insanely stressed.

You didn't say anything to him, just took him to your living room and sat down on the couch. He sat on the couch next to you, and didn't say a word until the silence was unbearable. This was it; you were going to break up with him, he knew it. "Are you okay, Baby?" He asked.

Instead of answering, you pulled out your phone and pressed something on your screen. You made sure the volume was up to its loudest setting. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled his ears, as did his grunts and moans as it became obvious what he was listening to.

"I can't wait to watch me brutalising your cunt over and fucking over. God I'm gonna cum. T-take it. Take my cock. Take my fucking cum!"

At least he has the decency to look horrified, you thought sadistically. Your face didn't show it, he didn't know it, but watching him squirm and panic was doing things to you. Your dominant, perverted boyfriend was now terrified and putty in your hands. The power had shifted, and it belonged entirely to you.

"You recorded us?" He asked quietly.

"Do you want to tell me why there are cameras all over my house, Namjoon?"

His eyes widened even more. "Wait, Baby, please! I can explain." He launched himself off the sofa and got on his knees in front of you, forcing you to look down on him. He looked pathetic, begging for your forgiveness, holding your thighs and anxiously waiting for your forgiveness. He told you everything from the very beginning about the robbery and the reason why he would so often break into your house, right to the cumming in your panties and watching you touch yourself every day. You could feel your shorts getting wetter and wetter at the vulnerability he was displaying. "How can I make this right, ____? I'll do anything."

The magic words. "Anything?"

"Name it."

"You're going to need to apologise."

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so so-"

"Not with your words." You lifted your hips and removed your shorts, revealing your dripping cunt to him. The cold air hit you and you could feel your clit tingling in anticipation, knowing that what was to come next was going to be the best night of your life. You spread your legs wider, giving him enough space. "But you can still use that nasty little mouth of yours."

He wasted no time, immediately throwing himself forward and lapping up your wetness, tongue moving desperately to try and make you feel good and keep him close. He sucked and licked on your clit fervently, and as hard as you tried to remain quiet, occasionally fervent moans would escape and tell him that he was doing good. You put your hand on his head and tugged at his hair.

"I wanted to make you suffer." You told him while he was still between your thighs. "Wanted to hurt you." You moaned and began bucking your hips. "Oh, fuck! That's it! Haven't touched myself in days because I knew you'd be watching. Couldn't let you feel good after the shit you pulled.

"Did you like watching me, Joonie?" Your tone changed, you began to taunt him. You pulled his head away by his hair. He tried to fight you, tried to get back to your cunt and finish what he started, but your grip stopped him. "Did you like watching me fuck myself and not know you were there?"

You peered down to his trousers to see his cock hard and ready to go and you laughed. "Kneel back." He did what you asked and unknowingly gave you access to him. You immediately stretched your leg and put your foot on his dick, pressing gently at first. You laughed at him when he let out a small moan, finally being granted a modicum of friction. "You know, if you'd have asked, I would have let you put the cameras up. I would have even put on a bigger show for you. I would have moaned louder, called your name, bent over and showed you my precious cunt. I would have given you all the material you could have ever wanted."

You applied more pressure to his dick, pushing down a lot harder and this time earning a groan of pain. "But you went behind my back like the fucking pervert you are. You watched me fuck myself in this very room and let me believe that I was alone. I always thought it was weird how you knew the things I was into. Turns out you've been letting yourself into my house and violating me in all aspects."

"Please."

"Please what? What are you begging for, perv?" You removed your foot from his cock and leant forward, roughly pulling his hair by the roots and making him look into your eyes. "You are not to touch yourself. You're going to make me cum in five minutes. If you don't, I'm going to walk out that door and you're never going to see me again. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

You leant back one more time and spread your legs again. You picked up your phone and started the timer. "Go."

He moved in pure desperation, there was no other way to describe it. Immediately, his mouth was attached to your clit, sucking harshly and quickly. He was fighting with your body and pulling out all the things he knew that drove you mad. Now there were high stakes. You were going to leave him if he couldn't perform the most basic of tasks. He immediately plunged two fingers inside you and began to roughly use them, hitting that soft spot and making you scream out in pure pleasure. You always loved his fingers inside you, he knew that. You told him he had beautiful hands and loved feeling them fucking your cunt, loved how deep they got, and how quickly they could move.

You didn't bother to hold back your moans. You were so loud for him. He loved it when you were loud. Perhaps you were being loud to torture him. He couldn't touch himself to your moans, so he could only listen to how good he was making you feel. And he was making you feel incredible. Your hips were wantonly moving on their own, and your hands were pushing his head further into your cunt. His fingers were picking up their pace. At this point, you were all but screaming.

He could feel you tightening. You were so close to cumming. He stole a glance at your discarded phone. Twenty seconds remained. He began to work harder, faster. His tongue ached from the constant use, and his hand was cramping up but you were so close.

Twelve seconds.

"Fuck! Namjoon! Just like that!"

Nine.

Eight.

"Oh my fucking God, Namjoon!"

Five.

"I'm gonna cum!"

Three.

The sound you made was guttural and animalistic. Your back arched and your grip on his hair tightened. "Fuck!" You came on his fingers as the timer went off. This wasn't a sweet and delicate orgasm like you'd usually get from his tongue, this was violent and powerful. The wind was knocked out of you and you squirted all over his face and your sofa, soaking the fabric of his t-shirt. He only pulled himself away from you when you made him. You were so exhausted you couldn't even turn off the timer, he had to do it for you. You were breathing heavily, eyes droopy from sleep. But you weren't finished yet.

"Strip." You ordered him. He obeyed. "Sit on the sofa."

Once he was settled on the sofa, you straddled him, feeling him bare beneath you. He hadn't fought you once, allowing you to take complete control of him, submitting to you as you usually do to him. He was so red and hard, and very pliant. His eyes never left your face, even when he felt your hand on his cock and lined him up. Saying nothing, you sat, feeling him fill up your empty walls quickly. It had only been a few days without him, but when the two of you fucked like rabbits, it felt like forever. He clearly felt so, too, judging by the moan he just let out.

He said your name and put his hands on your waist, looking down at where you two were joined. But giving him autonomy was not something you had planned. You grabbed hold of his wrists and pinned them by his head, against the back of the sofa. You put all your weight into your hands as you bounced on his cock, not giving him the room to move. He could probably completely overpower you and there was even a small part of you that wanted him to. But the power trip you were on right now, the way it felt to have a big, strong man entirely at your mercy had you even wetter than usual. Except for the grunts that Namjoon would let out, or the moans you would, the sound your cunt made as it swallowed Namjoon was so loud, and such a turn on.

Namjoon still wanted more, though. It was torture to see your breasts bounce from underneath your t-shirt. Usually when you rode him, he liked it if you were completely bare so he had total access to your body. But your t-shirt was blocking his view. Despite that, your nipples were still so hard and visible through the fabric, he couldn't help himself. He reached forward and took one into his mouth, biting down softly.

"Harder!" You told him. Your nipples were so sensitive, especially when you had the t-shirt on to rub against them. Namjoon's teeth clamped a little harder, causing you to moan out and pick up the pace. A big part of you regretted pinning him down with your hands - your clit was aching again, and needed to be played with.

"You know," you began breathlessly, "you always called me a slut, but now you're acting like this." You bent down and bit his neck, earning another groan. "You're so useless right now, aren't you? Can't even fuck me with this big useless cock. Even now you're so hard. Such a fucking pervert, aren't you?" When he didn't respond, you bit his neck harder. "Aren't you?"

"Yes!"

"Hmmm... not good enough." You stopped moving. "I want you to say it."

"I'm a pervert." He responded immediately.

You lifted yourself up and slammed back down, forcing a scream out of him. "Louder!"

"I'm a pervert!"

You laughed. "Look into the camera and say it."

The realisation dawned on him, the cameras were still rolling. There was now footage of him being dominated by you on both of your phones. A quick flicker in his mind appeared; what if you used this video against him? The scariest thought to him was that he didn't mind. He didn't care if you posted the video anywhere. In fact, he felt his cock get harder at the thought of people seeing him so weak for you. He looked directly into the lens, and opened his mouth. "I'm a pervert!"

You slammed back down on him again. But this time, you didn't stop.

"What did you do?"

"I - fuck - recorded my girlfriend without permission. You feel so fucking good, shit!"

"Did you watch them?"

He nodded.

"Which one did you watch the most?"

"When... when you were tied up... and I - fucking hell - fucked you so hard you passed out."

"Do you know what I watch?"

"No."

"I watch you touch yourself over me when I'm asleep."

"Fuck." His voice was barely a whisper.

"I watch you fuck your hand while sniffing my panties, acting like a desperate little slut that can't wait for his girlfriend's tight cunt he has to lick her underwear to get off."

"Please."

"Please what?"

"I want to cum."

"Where do you want to cum?"

"Inside."

"Inside me? You think your useless, filthy cock is good enough to cum inside me?"

"Please."

God, he sounded so desperate.

"Do you want to cum?"

"Yes!"

"Cum for me. Now."

His eyes lit up, he was so happy to finally be able to empty himself inside you. You watched his face for the telltale signs that he was right there. To help him, you sped up even more and moaned wantonly, being loud for him as he loved. He was so close.

"I'm gonna -"

As he began his release you sat up, pulling him from inside you and letting his cock flop onto his belly. "No!" He screamed. The cum that was supposed to be inside you now emptying out onto his stomach. Tears began to well in his eyes as his orgasm ebbed away quickly, leaving him messy, used, and unsatisfied. He looked at you, feeling a small pang of betrayal.

"Let this be a lesson to you," you told him, "the next time you want to do something fucked up, you ask me first. Understand?"

He wanted to say something but thought better of it. He nodded simply.

"Don't touch yourself until tomorrow. I'll let you cum then."

You released him and stood up.

"What's stopping me from taking what I want from you anyway?"

"I'll do this again."

He nodded in understanding.

"Come on, Baby," you held out your hand, "let's go take a shower."

Goddamn, as I was writing this the trigger warnings just kept piling up and piling up and it got darker and darker. This shit is extra horny lmao. I know I don't usually write as dark as this, and it took me ages to get this done but I just had this brain rotting idea and I had to get it out. I hope you enjoyed it! My commissions are open so if you want something similar but with a different member, let me know! I'm happy to keep up the darker themes.

#kim namjoon #namjoon #rm #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #namjoon x reader smut #rm x reader smut #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #namjoon smut

[neuroticbookworm]

Soulmate Skepticism vs Romanticism in La Pluie

I am a soulmate skeptic. I don't believe there's one person destined for each of us on this planet.

I'm also a staunch pessimist on matters of romance and love. I constantly conduct a cost-benefit analysis in my head for every romantic relationship I see in my life. "It doesn't make sense" is almost always the first thing that pops into my head when I see people in love.

Do I sound an awful lot like someone from La Pluie? Why yes, it's our resident Soulmate Skeptic and Slenderman wannabe, Lomfon! That must mean that I liked him immediately, right?

Love is not a competition that you can win or lose. It's something you feel and share. There are a million things in and around love that can be made sense of, and added up like a math problem, like interests, hobbies, morals, desires, and fears, but the feeling of love itself is not logical. And I hate the part of me that can't get over that fact, and I'm working on it.

That's why I was initially so wary of Lomfon. I thought the show was gonna let him run amok and then teach him a "lesson" about love, after all the destruction is said and done. And then, episode 8 came around, and Lomfon became the character with the most potential for growth in the coming episodes, and I was so excited to see how the show would take him on this journey.

How do you teach a skeptic to believe? You give him a situation that he cannot logic his way out of, aka, two potential soulmates. This is the story I expected to play out last night, but of course, they subverted this expectation because this show is made by people who are much smarter than me.

Episode 9 is crafted to make skeptics believe in spontaneous, head-in-the-clouds love, rooted in coincidence, but the target is not Lomfon, but me. And possibly you. And all of us, the audience.

I'm going to take a broad, but confident guess that the people reading this piece are non-believers when it comes to soulmates. It sounds too good to be true and so fantastical to ever happen in real life.

Soulmate trope exists for a reason. It's comforting to think about a person who exists right now who might cross paths with us on a random day and change our lives for the better. When life is cruel and relentless and we long for better times, we wish we could reach into the future and get a hug from the person we haven't even met yet, but who will someday mean everything to us and more. When life is kind to us, on a warm sunny day, we could be hit with sudden melancholia for a lover we have not loved yet.

In La Pluie, Patts and Tai wanted to defy their destinies at different points in the show. And they did, in their own way. In episode 8, they decided to be with each other not because they could hear each other when it rained, but because they like each other and choose to be together.

The show constantly puts the soulmate trope under a microscope and analyzes it, criticizes it and subverts it. But episode 9 was different. It leaned into the trope. It established a connection between Patts and Tai that was completely circumstantial and could end abruptly at any given moment. And it did, with the death of Patts' grandma.

I've been wondering since last night: why take this detour? And I believe that the show knows its audience, know that our cynical brains would get extremely excited by a piece of media dissecting the idea of fated love and commenting on it. How choice matters more than anything else. And I see episode 9 as its attempt to nudge us in the opposite direction, ever so slightly. Because while the Rainverse of La Pluie can bring many complications to the love lives of the main characters, real life is much, much worse.

In the sport of modern dating, a clear mind with sound logical abilities is the key skill required for success, according to all the self-proclaimed relationship experts on social media. Our guts are not to be trusted anymore, since we are all traumatized and will automatically seek a shitty relationship because that's the one that feels familiar. Love-bombing is a manipulation technique, you must read about it and be aware of the ways to spot it. Do you know what Negging is? The red flags, green flags, and beige flags? Every action, every gift, every romantic gesture might have a sinister intention behind it.

Finding love is an exhausting process. Yes, it is important to be informed and safe, but in the process, we tend to forget the beauty of the very thing we are trying to find. The beauty of love is not singular in the choices that we make. Mature and time-hardened love is beautiful in its strength and choice, yes, but budding, fledgling love can also be beautiful in its spontaneity. And while finding your perfectly compatible person can feel pretty amazing after hours of meticulous swiping on apps, so can the knowledge of finding out YEARS later that your lives were ever so briefly intertwined in the past and you didn't even notice it at the time.

Emotional maturity and compatibility are necessary to sustain love, but spontaneity, silliness, and sometimes, happenstance are the ones that sweeten it. The show appreciates the skepticism about destiny and fate, but it also makes sure to never position itself against romance. Against the possibility of life surprising us in the moments we least expect it. Because while we strive everyday to make some sense of the chaos life throws us into, it might not hurt to let our heads float to the clouds, every once in a while, and see the beauty in chaos.

#la pluie #la pluie the series #la pluie meta

[kuiperror]

TELL ME ABOUT THE CHIPMUNKS LORE. pretty please.

1st thank you for indulging me (even tho i asked lol) 2nd.maybe dont open this unless you want to get blasted with useless information + unimportant yet dearly held opinions + offtopic addendums + true sincerity. i tried to hold back guys im sorry. hold onto your hats im getting fucking crazy in here

firstly ill summarize and say that my "version" of the story of aatc [1] is basically just an idealized version of the "lore" the 1960s version gave us (i say "lore" in quotations bc there was. none lol).

now a lot of my ideas concerning the "lore" of story are interconnected to my opinions about the actual application of aatc media in real life . for instance, the story is set, vaguely, around the late 1950s - early to mid 1960s, like the irl "run" of the original chipmunks records. i personally believe that, as a real media franchise, aatc really has no reason to exist within our modern world with the technology we have today [2] so aatc as a fictional story is affected similarly. along with that, when the story is played out in the context of 1960s america it creates a richer thematical experience as the themes are compounded and expanded on. [3] a lot of the themes that i consider Essencial to the story deal with acceptance of differences and familial love and questioning of ones own humanity and sense of belonging, both within oneself and within the family unit and within larger society, and conservative 1960s suburban america is just a rlly good backdrop to place all of that. so basically i believe in the Contextuality of 1960s aatc and i love to allude to those contexts within the story.

another thing about my version is that i allow it to be inconsistent both with itself or with real life, just cuz it doesn't really have to be. for instance, this story has a floating timeline and i consider the chipmunk's ages to range from 8 - 10 years old— theodore is 8, alvin is 9, simon is 10. (simon is the oldest in the 1960s era idc who says what, i will die on this hill) however at the same time i think it would make the most sense for them to come from the same litter, which would make them all the same age. so i consider the chipmunks to be different ages while also considering they were born at the same time. i do have an in-world resolution for this discrepancy [4] but you get what im saying: my version of events is a little fictional story for me and me only so inconsistencies like that can be brushed over . mainly so i don't think too deeply about the logistics of things (cuz i tend to do that to avoid any possible criticism cuz i am Afraid of flaw) . like i'll catch myself being like "but how does the development of a real 8yo match theodore's behavior? 🤨" and i have to tell myself "bro.. this is a fictional cartoon world ur literally talking about a talking chipmunk its Not That Serious it doesn't have to be that realistic dude" so i just say its my own little play place and i get to do what i want :)

my version of the backstory of the chipmunks is not really all there in terms of external and internal consistency, but it mostly resembles the 1980s series' backstory where dave finds the chipmunks on his doorstep. (see [4] for entire story) i think that the months after dave took them in were honestly a p dark period for the family. i don't imagine dave had good support system and i think the mental struggle of suddenly caring for 3 incredibly strange children all the while fearing societal reactions to them (which restricted him from getting the help he needed) [5] definitely aged him. ithink hes like, early 30s when the chipmunks arrive, late 30s when the timeline "starts floating"... not as young as most (?) fans/iterations interpret him to be. i think that, before "the chipmunk song" was created, dave had raised the chipmunks for like.. 3-5ish years. what i'm saying is that dave definitely took in the chipmunks out of the kindness of his own heart and not cuz he wanted to capitalize on their singing prowess (aHEM looking at a certain movie 🤨)

also, i like to accentuate the animal-ness of the boys by taking real world information about chipmunks and applying it to them :) in general its a little bit of a pet peeve of mine when ppl just completely disregard the animal part of funny animal characters... esp with alvin and the chipmunks bc thats like. Their Whole Thing . they are chipmunks ? why do you just ignore that 😭

now i have talked a LOT about angsty stuff but i do want to make it clear that legit all this stuff is the subtext and background for interactions shown within the 1960s chipmunk media. the chipmunks are still happy kids who have fun and goof around and piss off david !! its just that they have fears and their own Issues like any real person.

so yeah! thats my chipmunk lore!! ^^ i have a whole document about my version so im definitely. fucking insane about the chipmunks. if any other aatc fans are reading this please be nice to me 😦 i feel as though i am very much a weirdo in my sandbox all alone soo dont h8 me plz :)

and just to send it off with some silly lore here are some random headcanons for each character that i have taken straight from my lore document ^^

alvin: would 100% be a leash kid . just sayin (as a former leash kid myself)

alvin: takes after david musically— when he writes his own music and makes up little songs to himself it sounds very similar to the songs dave writes. alvin doesn't recognize this but dave definitely does :,)

alvin: insecure about his height and constantly reassures himself that he will have a growth spurt when hes older

simon: loves loves LOVEs non-conventional and instrumental music! especially those set in different modes

simon: astronaut kid he loves space and wants to b an astronaut . born at just the right time B)

simon: knows better than to follow along with alvin's troublemaking + rebelliousness, occasionally tries to push back, but often is just like. fuck it we ball and goes along with it, especially if its fun ^^

theodore: LOVES the technical aspect of music + the recording process . he will tell you all about the science behind how vinyl records work unprompted.

theodore: doesnt like to sing solos as much as his brothers do bc of past childhood asthma at age 3 and also because he can not stop himself from giggling when hes singing hes just so happy :)! (THIS ONE IS CANON 💥💥💥 SOURCE: UP ON THE HOUSETOP CHRISTMAS W THE CHIPMUNKS VOL 1 ‼️)

theodore: although he is the most naive of the bunch, he is not dumb . hes just a little kid who likes being silly !

dave: before taking the chipmunks in in his early 30s he was the world's most regular guy . wrote hits for other people, continues to do that occasionally into the boys's careers

dave: literally has a song for everything . he will do everything to a beat .

dave: embroiders and cross-stitches to regulate his anger + knows how to sew really well since he has 2 make all of the boys' clothes. (CANON ⁉️😍) also it was his decision to color-code and embroider their initials onto everything they wear lmfao

FOOTNOTES (color coded for your convenience!)

[1] - in this post i refer to the media franchise as "aatc" (alvin and the chipmunks) and refer to the actual trio of characters as "the chipmunks" to avoid confusion. i just want it to be said that i personally dont like to call the media franchise "alvin & the chipmunks" on account of the whole "uuu if alvins a chipmunk why is it called alvin & the chipmunks" joke, i personally prefer to call the franchise just "the chipmunks" as it is shorter and includes the 1960s era as for most of it the franchise went by several different iterations (if we lived in a perfect world the franchise would still be called "david seville and the chipmunks" . just saying)

[2] - back in the early 60s, combining pitch-shifted vocals and character-acting was an innovative technique that took real time, effort, knowledge and skill to achieve. but nowadays not only is the concept no longer fresh but literally anyone can create their own "chipmunk" vocals in a matter of minutes. the story & characters (also nostalgia) are really the only thing keeping the aatc franchise going, esp since that's what more modern iterations of aatc focus on rather than the actual music.

[3] - in the media outside of their albums (the alvin show & the dell comics, specifically) there is always an underlying theme of comparison between david and the boys and the 1960s concept of a nuclear american family. its not exactly an "Intentional" theme, it more or less comes with the (irl) time-period the original aatc media was created in. the seville household is, inherently, a subversion of the ideal of the "perfect family" that households were compared against and strived to be, even at the expense of their own comfort, ideals, safety, etc. this subversion can be played into for drama and angst in a richer, more plausible way than it would be if the story were set in a more modern time period, u know? but yeah i believe that, as a fictional story, aatc shouldn't be divorced from the context of the attitudes and values of what mainstream society thought a family should be in the 1960s.

[4] - essentially in my version of events, dave was given no information about the boys and he basically made up their ages. when david found them in his backyard, they were oversized chipmunks as large as your average cat. they all sort of acted like young human children, but they were a lot more... chipmunk than child. they could only babble— but the sounds were recognizable as human speech. dave was obviously freaked out and resolved to keep an eye on them whenever they were in his backyard. he really only resolved to take them in due to the fact that he could literally see them change throughout a single week. how i imagine the chipmunks' biology is that they are a mixture of human and chipmunk (not literally, mind you, more as a physiological, figurative thing) so they have the intelligence and development of a human while still doing certain things like undertaking hibernation, wanting to forage and stockpile and burrow, things like that. however their growth rate is incredibly fucked up, going from the actual size of a newborn baby chipmunk to the size of a human toddler within like, a year. with this rapid growth also comes more human-like intelligence. once they were actually living in his house, dave knew there was something human about them with these creatures so he couldn't just let them return to the wild, especially since they were becoming more and more dependent on him and more and more human-like as days passed... i definitely think there was a moment of pure clarity for dave where he realized like. wow, that's a child. these things are children. and they are relying on me to provide for them. they are absolutely attached to me by now. and i think i might actually be attached to them too. and thats when he decided to name them and truly care for them like any other human child. overtime the chipmunks slowed their growth rate and matched their developing rate with the same as an average human. the chipmunks don't remember much of their early childhood and nothing can really be disputed so davids word of what happened is gospel. And yeah thats their backstory basically. if you want more on dave's view point on the chipmunks and their fucked up growth process, you can read this post here :)

[5] - he overcame this, of course. he did not want the boys to think that he was ashamed of them. public school was a different story, however, and the boys were more-or-less in a state of homeschooling before the release of "the chipmunk song." knowing that most of their peers would actually look up to them rather than down upon them extremely reassured him.

#Dont look at me. #this is literally the most vulnerable i think i have ever been in my life. #please be kind i am obviously mentally ill 😭😭 #um im not tagging this one guys. sorry #i am VERY afraid. #i will be tagging personal however. because this is literally the most personal i could ever get. #personal

[livepoultryfreshkilled]

i'm well aware this is divorced from the original purpose of zombies but as they exist in modern pop culture and general knowledge i'd like to talk about my personal, emotional experience with them. the idea that is. never met a zombie in real life that i know of

okay so i do not like the walking dead, zombieland, apocalyptic horror (just taste based, not my thing, more anxiety/despair inducing than scary) but flicks like night of the living dead, RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD (!!), general concepts of zombies always terrify and enthrall me. the things that have always terrified me abt zombies have been

the degredation of your own humanity and loss of control over ur body and

the kind of suffocating inevitability of the real monster being the virus, because you can kill a zombie but you cant really kill a virus.

this of course has been obviously effected by the current pandemic, which has shown me how inescapable the need for human spaces and contact is, and how many people can be capable of infecting you at once. like just hordes of other human beings. werewolves are wolves and vampires are vampires but zombies are (often) dead people without the capacity for reason. just the loss of yourself not thru death but thru zombification and the lack of humanity in the enemy. there is only so much you can do to keep from being sick, and i fear and dread societal collapse in media, i hate loss i hate it when people don't have their things and i hate when they can't be with each other. as a child i developed a mild agoraphobia until i reasoned that zombies can't climb stairs so any elevated location is safe because people are all over this planet. theyre everywhere! zoo wee mama!

when i say scared i mean my kind of primal childhood fear reactions, because i had a really very bad fear of zombies when i was a smalltime. in terms of now, my conscious view of them, yall know i love izombie and i love in the flesh too, when it comes to classic monsters i pick zombies over vampires and werewolves. this is because i

always feel the need to pay attention to whatever or whoever is getting the least attention. it makes me sad that nobody wants to be a zombie because what if zombies saw that wouldnt they be sad. they dont have any powers they're the underdog here and that's my archetype

generally develop fixations on or fetishes for the things that scare me the most. i feel like me and zombies have been through a lot, they're the monster i grew up thinking about because i was scared of them, and there's this belief i have that monsters won't hurt you if you're kind to them instead of afraid, so it's sort of a coping thing i suppose

i think decay rot and disease and grossness and corruption of the flesh and dead bodies are sick + awesome + cool. totally rules. i LOVE the idea of conscious zombies because to experience the degredation and destruction of your body, but not through pain (werewolves) and to experience your own death but not in the sense of living beyond death alone, stretching into immortality (vampires) but like, being a corpse watching those around you treat you like one but feeling and thinking everything a human does is crazy. eating brains is crazy, thats thoughts, you cant feed on someone you love like a vampire that is permanently destructive and repulsive and messy. awesome

and so ends my catechism (i am going to keep talking about this)

#aries.doc #horror #zombies

[bwhitex]

Dating Authentically: Embracing Yourself Without Apologies

In the world of modern dating, we are often confronted with a myriad of "dos and don'ts" that can make navigating romantic relationships feel like walking through a minefield. From playing hard to get, to presenting a polished version of ourselves on social media, the pressure to conform to societal standards of attractiveness and desirability is immense. But what if the key to successful dating isn't about moulding ourselves into a 'perfect' partner but rather, about embracing our true selves, flaws and all? In this blog, we'll delve into why being authentic is crucial in dating and how psychological principles support this approach.

The Psychology of Authenticity

Carl Rogers, a pioneer of humanistic psychology, taught us about the importance of being genuine. He argued that for personal growth, we must have an environment that provides us with genuineness (openness and self-disclosure), acceptance (being seen with unconditional positive regard), and empathy (being listened to and understood). When these conditions are present, individuals can develop a greater capacity to accept themselves and understand their feelings, which is a cornerstone of meaningful relationships.

In dating, this means showing up as our true selves. The façade of being who we think our date wants us to be can only lead to relationships built on shaky foundations. It's like constructing a building on sand—eventually, the truth will come out, and things may crumble.

Self-Compassion: Your Dating Superpower

Dr. Kristin Neff's research on self-compassion also provides insight into dating authentically. By treating ourselves with kindness, acknowledging our common humanity, and being mindful of our imperfections, we set the stage for healthier and more honest relationships. Dating with self-compassion means we don't beat ourselves up after a date that didn't go well or obsess over our faults.

When we date with self-compassion, we're less likely to tolerate bad behavior from others because we know we deserve to be treated with respect and kindness. We also apologize less for being ourselves—whether that means owning our quirky laugh or not hiding our love for geeky hobbies.

The Detriment of the Apology

In many dating scenarios, there's an underlying pressure to apologize for our preferences, opinions, and even our personality traits. This is where we need to draw a line. Apologizing for being late to a date is considerate, but apologizing for your taste in music, your career choice, or your sense of humor is unnecessary and counterproductive. It undermines your self-worth and sends a message that you're not confident in who you are.

The truth is, a partner that's truly compatible with you will appreciate your idiosyncrasies and the unique blend of traits that make you, you. They won't want your apologies; they'll want your authenticity.

Embracing Vulnerability

Vulnerability is another concept that's crucial in dating. Dr. Brené Brown's research has shown us that vulnerability is not a sign of weakness but a profound strength. When we allow ourselves to be seen, truly seen, we open the door to real connection.

In the context of dating, this means having the courage to express our feelings, desires, and fears. It's about being honest about what we're looking for in a relationship, whether it's something casual or a life-long partnership. It's about having the difficult conversations about values, boundaries, and needs.

Conclusion: The Unapologetic Path to Love

The path to love should not be paved with apologies for our very essence. While compromise is a necessary part of any relationship, it should never involve compromising on being yourself. As we navigate the dating world, let's remember the words of Carl Rogers and the importance of being in an environment that allows us to be our true selves.

So, go on that date. Be unapologetically you. Laugh too loudly, share your love for obscure indie films, and talk about your dreams and passions. The right person will adore you for it, and you'll be building a relationship on the solid ground of authenticity.

Remember, in the grand scheme of your love story, the most important person to fall in love with first is you. When you do that, you won't feel the need to apologize for being who you are—and that's when you'll attract someone who loves you for you.

[empyllon]

People are in general, disillusioned and claim that abstaining or not, voting with their wallets don't work.

•

But, they forget that engagement matters, and the real non-fungible token is your attention. Re-releases and installments are ultimately just attention grabbers, and by and large, the true "manspreaders" of media in the sense that they prevent actual new content from claiming space, and new creators to push new ideas.

So what to do about shitty/problematic media?

Well, considering the ethics, in this specific case of Hogwarts Legacy;

Buying to-then stream the game, even if donating the money does not rid your hands of the fact that you contributed to stochastic terrorism in your home territory (not to dismiss off-region tragedies, they deserve their own space). So simply put, your money went into the pockets of people who use fear and hate to restrict LGBTQ+ rights, and by extension, your rights (it starts somewhere, you know it). It sucks but your allyship is rescinded, sorry hun.

You could here, refund the game once you learned to do better, but then, you have already given attention and time to this.

So what then? Well, honestly if you want to be an egotistical prick and still play the game, do it. Don't act like playing a morally vague card removes you from being held accountable. The argument that you are "supporting" developers is moot, the only thing you are supporting is upholding your skinnerbox of self-gratification, while trying to hold face. Piracy could be an option if you dont want to pay, but streaming is still off-limits, displaying the media might put you in criminal trouble but you are removed from the financial-foodchain. However, you are still trading your attention-NFTs away.

It's here I'm reminded about an article in how Russia supposedly has weaponized social media to divert attention (Fri Tanke, Sans #3, 2022). And honestly, you can see it happening all over the web. MAPs claiming they belong in the LGBTQ+ community, the far right racking down on drag queens, terfs against transpeople, gamergate, r/animetitties now publishing news etc. The tactic is as old as rocks, to "divide and conquer". I would honestly call it divide and divert – much like how pickpocketers in the street are in groups of 2; one to distract, one to pilfer. You simply aren't aware it's happening.

With this in mind, I propose the following tactic instead of posting spoilers, instead of taking the piss out on disillusioned fans and instead of perhaps, maybe converting one; get to cash in on the attention NFTs.

What I mean with that is, simply, hijack the conversation, don't engage with people – let them engage with you, simply divert attention – if they can be distracted, you win. The new currency is hype and attention, you might get far instigating hate, but your speech-checks will fail more often if you aren't some top of the line salesman.

Hashtags are the modern way to sift through content, and the algorithm can be manipulated. It's theoretically possible to use the same means the right has used on twitter; taking the hashtags and keywords to divert attention elsewere. Let others instigate if they want, but add to the noise by drowning out the potterheads with irrelevant media and attention grabs. You've seen it happen with the Tate circus, you know it works.

It's effective and likely less chance to fail. And sure, some people will insist being a potterhead is do or die, that they deserve to have their inner-child make-a-wish dreams of the Nth HP game be fullfilled. So let them be that sour kid then, playing with their toys, in their own sandbox. A self-serving person is as likely to want to engage in topics on ethics, as a grouchy toddler to eat their veggies. You aren't looking to divert their attention, you wanna divert the others that are open to it. And if Jackson Galaxys theory is true; a no must be followed with a yes.

So instead of playing Hogwarts Legacy, I suggest;

Authors

Roald Dahl — The Witches

Jay Eaton — Runaway to the Stars

Terry Prattchett — The Color of Magic / Equal Rites

Susan Cooper — Silver on the Tree

C.S. Lewis — Narnia books

Among Gnomes and Trolls (Org. title Bland tomtar och troll)

Directors / Studios

Guiellmo Del Toro — Pinocchio, Pans Labyrinth, Cabinet of Curiosities

Cartoon Saloon — Song of the Sea, Wolfwalkers

Team Cherry — Hollow Knight (Silk Song is due soon)

Super Giant Games — Hades

What would you hold this space for?

Retweet, reblog, share. The algorithm knows. Make some noise.

#hogwarts legacy #harry potter hogwarts game #harry potter #fuck jkr #jk rowling #literature #video games #hogwarts mystery #post hogwarts #hogwarts express #potterhead #fantasy #wizard #hp #signal boost #signal boooooost #signal b00st

[thediktatortot]

So glad I found Billy tumblr, had to try and explain to a friend a few days ago about how he's a nuanced character and that we can't always depend on what the duffers say. They went on to say about how their confused about how Millenials always look for nuance while gen z see a fascist and will call them out. So I had to remind them they haven't even seen the show and only really know Billy from the teen vogue article on woobyifing villains and they went oh yeah and backed off.

That's such an odd thing for them to think too? Like, millenials do look for facists in like...almost everything? I think the main difference is that most (Most, not all obviously for anyone who might read this and try to say something stupid because I KNOW people are all different and generational stereotypes don't always fit everyone) millennials are more focused on like, real people and real instances of facism lol

I'm not a succinct person and I'll probably not be able to touch on everything I want to say but modern internet culture is heavily shaped by current trends (tiktok, twitter, netflix, etc) which is all fast consumption media and has the ability to go in one ear and out the other within a short period of time.

Focusing on things like 'calling out facists' is something we should be doing on the streets, in the news, in our law enforcement, in our healthcare, in our education system, in our actual systems.

The thing that many Gen Z don't understand is that having nuance is VERY IMPORTANT when dealing with real, flesh and blood, breathing facists. They will use dog whistles that require nuance to understand in the first place and without those skills in being able to pick up on it, you wont actually know when someone is saying something bigoted or not.

Terfs have been able to radicalize the online fandom spaces with this tactic alone, taking out nuance so people only see things at a face value of whatever their 'morals' are instead of investigating whether something is genuine or a ploy to get their loyalty or not.

Liking an abused child who happens to have been raised in a racist environment and never got a chance to actually be out from under his abusive father's thumb isn't a lack of nuance or a lack of ability to call out or see hate for what it is, it's actually seeing humanity in people's actions that brought them there in the first place.

Sometimes we have to deal with uncomfortable things and learn uncomfortable topics, or deal with uncomfortable people to actually understand the problem of the situation to fix it in the first place.

Why do so many poor southerners end up being republican? Because their are uneducated and brainwashed into seeing other poor people as the problem. But how could we fix this? By funding state schooling, making it easier for people to live off one paycheck and give people time to learn about their own world and their place in it. Obviously it's not as cut and dry as that, but that's one of the bases to start with.

Bigotry is most often ignorance to start off with, hate is most often a place of fear that is instilled within people by those who want to keep power.

None of this means you have to like the people who do these things, but having just a basic understanding of what brought people to that point can really chance how you go about fixing the problem in the first place.

Idk if any of that made sense and I'm sure I missed some larger points but yea, nuance is a good thing.

#Ask Tator #Anonymous

[floyx]

Which social media platform do you use the most and why?

Without a social media platform, it is hard to introduce yourself to the world. Social media platforms are available everywhere, and with their unique features, we can have the attention. And if you are looking for social media platforms with attention-seeking features, Floyx would be the best option. Floyx is not like other social media platforms that do not fulfill the promises they made to their users. Floyx encourages content that makes sense and can be helpful to others. Quality matters more than quantity. It creates an environment in which there is healthy competition. We cannot trust any social media platform because of increased threats and scams. So, floyx is the platform that prioritizes your safety and can help you to make real connections. Floyx helps us to connect with people that have common interests and values. Floyx is not just for making friends but also for constructive and meaningful conversations. It creates a user-friendly atmosphere, in which people can discuss various topics. One attractive thing about this platform is that you can personalize your feed according to your interests. Floyx algorithms ensure, that you see the posts and videos according to your interests. Do you have any other reasons for using any other platform than Floyx? You can read this article to learn more about this platform and why it is the best choice for users who want a social presence.

Authentic Connections over Superficial Interactions Do you feel like social media is a popularity contest? If yes, then you should choose Floyx. It does not run behind likes, shares, or follower count. We already read above it has algorithms that attract quality and not quantity. Floyx is all about genuine relationships and communication. It is a platform where users can interact without any fear. Each individual has different experiences that they can easily share with audiences. Floyx deals with real stuff. It is not like other social media platforms that promote fake stuff. It is the zone where being yourself is appreciated. It's a welcoming place where individuality and friendships are valued. Here you can be yourself and chat about any topic without thinking about it because everybody is sweet and friendly. They are not only tolerant but also care about us. It is a place where we are nice to each other and help, not rude. That is how you can tell the world what is on your mind – your thoughts or stories. It's literally about hanging out with people who genuinely like you and don't mind the real you. In this sense, Flox is more than just a site for posting social media content. It is like a quiet place on the internet where you connect, get to know people, and have meaningful conversations. It builds up the case of being yourself, caring for others, and genuine friendships that show us a way of socializing, different from the usual. It is like a lighthouse for anyone who desires genuine relationships in a world with screens and distractions.

Curated Content Tailored to Your Interests Floyx makes sure you get what you want. How? And it does by using the modern computer that monitors your taste. Secondly, it recommends posts, articles, and chats you might like. So that you are not stuck with articles that don't matter because Flox is smart enough to show you content you like and can be excited about it.

Floyx has a feature that makes it stand out from the crowd: personalized content. Well, in essence, how do you get what you want? Well, think of it as a magical bookshelf that only displays books you find attractive, instead of you walking through books that may not seem to your liking. Carving out a niche as Floyx does with digital content might be similar but with blog posts, articles, and discussions instead. It's like having a genius friend who memorizes your personal choice and then makes suggestions on the products you have already been favoring. And why equalize? Using algorithms, which act on the feedback from the users. Thus, whenever you respond to or engage with anything on Flox such as commenting on posts or merely viewing articles, they better learn what might interest you. Next, it feeds that info into an algorithm and suggests things/interests you may like. In other words, the internet will allow you to find things designed just for you, enabling you to experience the online world like your private tour guide. Pretty impressive, no? Floyx can create a feed that reflects your interest. It can be art, technology, or literature. Floyx allows users to discover new ideas, perspectives, and creators within their niche.

Privacy and Data Security We all are worried about privacy and misuse of data while using social media platforms. But now you don't need to worry because Floyx has taken many steps to keep your information safe. They have put much effort into making this platform a safe place for every user. They do this by allowing users to decide who can see their data, posts, and profiles by giving users control over their privacy settings. It gives them security and makes them feel more secure while using Floyx. Floyx does not hide anything from users as it is transparent in handling their data. It also allows users to make decisions about their privacy. They provide every piece of information and are answerable about what data they collect, how they store it, and what they do with it. Floyx also uses encryption technology. That has a hand in protecting users' data from hackers and other cyber threats. They keep data and sensitive information of users by encrypting it.

Embracing Diversity and Inclusivity Floyx welcomes everyone because it believes that everyone has unique ideas and experiences. It appreciates everyone and respects everyone's opinions. There is always a place for everyone, no matter what you like, drawing, playing sports, or talking about important issues. Floyx encourages everyone to be supportive and learn from each other. So, it will be the ideal place for users to show their talent and be accepted the way they are.

Conclusion Floyx is an ideal platform for you if you are looking for real connections, content, or a safe space where you are accepted the way you are. Floyx is not your typical social media. Here quality matters more than quantity. This platform allows you to have constructive chats. If you want to change social media platforms and are tired of the using same old social media again and again, you can try Floyx.

#socialfi #web3community #web3platform #web3.0 #web3website #decentralised finance #nftmarketplace #socialmedia #floyx #floyxweb3

[finsterhund]

Doing shit like watching Anaconda while high has made me realize that an integral part to how humanity has demonized snakes in culture is by depicting the animal as an inherently sapient serial killer with a vore fetish and then proceeding to try and gaslight the audience into believing it's just a normal naturally evolved animal without human comparable sapience.

Sharks get a bad portrayal too of course but if anything the "mindless killer" depiction sharks get is less of a drastic demonization than "this ambush predator goes out of its way to torture fellow sapient prey first even if it's not at all advantageous to its survival" that snakes get.

There's a scene where the snake somehow curls its coils like they're a prehensile tail around prey before THEN LOOMING OVER and slowly going to swallow. When snakes literally lead in with a bite and then reflexively curl their coils in a similar motion to how alligators death roll to rip pieces. Like. That snake is intentionally doing something stupid and unnatural for the benefit of the audience. It's showing off. The snake is fully aware of the theatrics. There's no way this animal can be how snakes evolved in our real world. That thing cound understand the trolley problem. That thing could probably be taught to work a call center or pay taxes.

Jurassic Park always felt pretty realistic despite wildly inaccurate mutant dinosaurs because while clever, you get the sense that say for instance the raptors in particular, are behaving like real animals. The things they do are within the realm of possibilities for what we know about the species and modern comparisons. They act like birds! Like corvids. Then you fucking have pennywise-tier "fear seasons the meat" snake making sure his throat pouch looks real nice in the wide shot angle.

Ironically the most realistic portrayal of a hypothetical man-eating snake is Kaaa from fucking Disney's jungle book. The OG motherfucker. This bastard is in a 2D cartoon singing and using hypnotism and shit but still within this cartoon slapstick ass universe behaves more like you expect a snake would. Fat lazy and stupid. Just find a way to get the prey to give itself over to you. Sure. Fuck it I don't care. I'm gonna nap in this tree until something comes and bonks me on the head.

With that being said I also do find other creatures that aren't anatomically modern bipedal hairless apes having comparable sentience and sapience to us in media to be deeply fascinating so you must understand that I do have some fondness for the serial killer snake bullshit. But yeah. It kinda sucks people do it to a real animal though.

Then I have my monsters where I'm like, not trying to deny they're like, sapient, but there's evolutionary similarities between them and lizards. Because fuck it. That's cool. But I'm not gonna like, throw real life geckos under the bus for the sake of giving added "legitimacy" to my fantasy creature. Just fucking own it that it's a fantasy creature. Like tremors did. Fucking love tremors.

Anyways.

Idk where I was going with this.

Human media in its portrayal of snakes as an inherently evil animal has always really leaned into "this snake is sapient and likes to hurt things on purpose" pretty much since square one. It's actually really depressing. My mom is absolutely fucking terrified of snakes and every time someone tries to get to the bottom of why it's because she's attributing human reason to the behaviors of a wild animal. This is a fucking tube of stinky boy that likes to be fat and warm and safe. It is the most basal of instincts to want to be fat and warm and safe.

Anyways I love snakes if you couldn't tell. And I don't mean to insult them by calling them big dumb lazy fat stinky idiots. You can also call human babies these things. I'm just saying they literally don't have a thing going on in those cute little stubby heads of theirs even remotely comparable to malice. Provided they feel safe they are one of the more docile types of animals out there.

I think humans just want to see dragons where there are no dragons. I'm sorry you can't see a dragon. I'm really sorry. I wish we had dragons too.

#text post #negative

[scripttorture]

One of the central characters in a fantasy story I'm writing has torture as part of her backstory. She was captured by an evil race, and one individual in particular put her through a "training" regime designed to turn her into a useful/trustworthy slave. Specifically the goals of the training were:

- destroy her sense of self / agency

- overwrite her ingrained response of healing herself when injured (she has magical healing powers)

- an affectionate or worshipful disposition towards her captors

- immediate obedience to any command

I feel like both physical and psychological torture / mental conditioning are probably appropriate, though I'm leaning away from including sexual abuse. I honestly don't know much about torture at all and the only things that come to mind as producing a result similar to what I'm looking for are the Game of Thrones torture sequence and the use of obdience collars in the Codex Alera book series. The latter is very interesting to me because it is a magical device that inflicts pain in reaction to disobedience but also inflicts pleasure to reward obedience.

I guess I'm just wondering if you have any advice for what kinds of methods would be good to include in a process designed to produce obedience, rather than torture for its own sake or to extract information, as well as if there are any common pitfalls I should try to avoid in writing about such a thing.

The training itself won't be in the book, but I need to be familiar with it for backstory purposes because later in the story this character encounters her torturer again, and is subjected to some further abuse before she finally overcomes her fear and kills him.

Alright well I’m going to be straight up with you: the scenario you’ve presented is a very common torture apologist trope. It’s incredibly unrealistic. And it’s unrealistic in ways that support torture by claiming it can be ‘useful’.

 Which probably means that you’re new to the blog and haven’t heard me give this talk before. That’s OK, we all learn sometime and it’s not my intention to shame you for the fact you’re not as obsessed with this stuff as I am or couldn’t afford to shell out for the books.

 Torture does not produce obedience. The best evidence we have right now suggests it encourages active resistance.

 If you got a lot of your inspiration from Game of Thrones then frankly I’m not surprised you came up with apologia. The torture in that series is incredibly badly handled. And a big part of the point of running this blog is that most people are getting their information on torture from shows like that. Which happens because the research is inaccessible and hasn’t been popularised the way fictional tropes (sometimes fictional tropes literally started by torturers) have been popularised.

 The important thing is what you choose to do now.

 I’m going to break down the problems here and make some suggestions for what you could do instead.

 Firstly: there is no torture or abuse that will guarantee obedience. Pain does not make people meek or compliant or willing to follow commands.

 Torture survivors are not broken.

 They are not ‘controlled’ by their torturers and the suggestion that they are is used in the real world to bar real survivors from treatment. It is also used to bar them from entering safe countries and to argue that they shouldn’t be allowed visas or passports.

 The best statistics we have for any sort of compliance under torture come from analysis of historical French data where torture was used to try and force confessions (something we know torture can sometimes do).

 The ‘success’ rate averaged at 10%. Under torture 90% of people will not comply long enough to sign their name.

 Secondly: torture does not and can not ‘make’ a victim feel ‘worshipful’ towards their torturer. The suggestion is kind of like asking if someone can tap dance immediately after removing the bones from their legs.

 Torturers have no control over a victim’s emotions. They have no control over their symptoms. They have no control over their beliefs.

 And there is no such thing as a torture that can change someone’s mind in a way torturers can control.

 Once again, this fictional trope is used by politicians and the media to justify marginalising real torture survivors.

 I have read hundreds, possibly thousands, of accounts from torture survivors. I’ve read historic and modern accounts. I’ve read accounts from all sort of people from all over the globe. I have never seen a survivor say anything positive about their torturers. I have never seen anything close to toleration.

 A lot of survivors are blisteringly angry at their torturers. A lot of them feel overwhelming levels of spite and some report literally putting themselves at risk of death in order to spite their torturers. And yes, a lot of them are afraid too. None of these emotions are mutually exclusive.

 Affection is impossible. We are not wired that way.

 Thirdly: I understand that ‘evil races’ are a long standing fantasy trope but it would be remiss of me if I didn’t mention the racism inherent in that idea. That some people are ‘born bad’.

 I’d strongly suggest you look up the Black, Indian and First Nations people that I know are on this site critiquing these kinds of fantasy tropes. Because they will be able to explain it better then I can.

 Fourthly: the term ‘psychological torture’ is a pretty common dog whistle for torture apologia.

 Most of the time tortures that people dub ‘psychological’ are things with real, physical effects that lead to lasting injury and death. They just don’t tend to leave obvious external scars. I use Rejali’s term ‘clean torture’ for these techniques. Researchers distinguish them from scarring tortures because they are harder to detect and prove in court.

 The majority of survivors today will have experienced clean torture. They will have no obvious physical scars. But they will still be disabled. They’re ‘just’ less likely to see any form of justice for it.

 Fifthly: torture is a terrible training method because it decreases a person’s ability to learn.

 Torture causes memory problems. It also often causes lasting physical injuries that make performing basic tasks more difficult. And it causes a lot of serious psychological problems which make performing basic tasks more difficult.

 A trained person who was never tortured will always out perform someone whose training involved torture.

 I probably sound quite angry here.

 I write fantasy and I also write about torture a lot. But I can’t imagine that it’s just flavour for a fantasy world or some artefact of the past. Torture is a real, present threat in the country that I grew up in. If I was to return now I could, literally, be tortured and executed.

 If you want to include torture in your world, in your story then you are committing to telling someone else’s story. You are representing an incredibly marginalised group of people and you are presenting that representation to a third group, one that has never had contact with real torture survivors.

 Are you comfortable with the idea of telling your peers that survivors are still controlled by ‘the enemy’? That they’re passive? That they don’t have the capacity to make their own decisions?

 Are you comfortable knowing that the popularity of this message keeps millions of genocide survivors in refugee camps, blocked from citizenship, aid and safety?

 I understand feeling attached to a story and a character. And I understand that this information is hard to find. Hell I’m probably going to end up with the only English copy of one of the pivotal textbooks because I’m shelling out to get it translated.

 You say you want to write a torture survivor. With respect I don’t think you know what a torture survivor looks like.

 I think the most helpful, and kindest, thing I can do here is describe what torture does to people. Because I can’t tell you whether that’s something you want to write. I could try and rebuild this scenario for you (and if you decide you’re interested in that after reading all of this and all the links then I suggest looking through the blog tags for ICURE, torture as training, Black Widow and Overwatch.) But I think you need to decide whether you actually want to write a torture survivor first.

 Here’s a post on the most common torture apologia tropes.

 Here’s the post on the types of memory problems torture commonly causes. I strongly recommend picking at least one.

 Remember that this would never go away. Improvement and recovery in torture survivors means learning to live with symptoms. The symptoms themselves are permanent.

 It’s a hundred different alarms set up on their phone to try and make up for the forgetfulness that makes them miss appointments. It’s the little bottle of perfume in their pocket to bring themselves back to reality when they get intrusive memories at work.

 Here’s a post on the other common symptoms.

 You want something in the range of 3-5 of those, though more are likely if your character is held for years. Each of them should be severe. Every single symptom should have a large, negative, impact on the character’s daily life.

 Do you know anyone with chronic pain? It warps their world. Work can become impossible. Basic household tasks like getting dressed, cooking, cleaning the dishes are done through gritted teeth or not at all. Hobbies and ‘fun’ activities dwindle as they struggle to find a way to do them that doesn’t hurt. Interaction with other people, even loved ones, can easily become barbed.

 Because the pain makes everything more difficult. It means everything takes more energy, more effort. Which means that things fall by the wayside, whether that’s by a pile of mouldering dishes in the sink or snapping at a child. It means tears and the social judgement that follows them. It means the world narrowing as it gets harder to go out.

 Do you see what I mean? Every part of life.

 That’s an example for one symptom. You need to work out at least four. Then figure out how they interact. Then figure out what the character can do to make her life better.

 With chronic pain that can mean painkillers but it’s always more then that. It’s re-learning how to do things; how to put on trousers without aggravating the bad knee, how to sew with one hand. It means learning to cut down on what they do and it means learning a new sort of flexibility; accepting that there are days when the pain is too much.

 It can mean having the same conversation about disability over and over again. With family, with friends, with colleagues. ‘I can’t do that.’ ‘I can do that sometimes but not always.’ ‘That will hurt me.’ ‘I can’t use that chair.’ ‘I can’t get my arms that high above my shoulders.’ ‘I need help with this.’

 And that sometimes means learning a kind of patience that is really barely held back rage. Or perhaps I’m projecting a little with this last one.

 If you’ve never met a torture survivor, if you’ve never looked at a survivor’s work, then all this is difficult. You’re trying to imagine something from first principals with nothing to fall back on.

 So let’s bring some survivors into the discussion here. Some reality.

 Who’s listened to Fela? How about Bobi Wine?

 Fela Kuti was the father of modern Afro beats music. He was tortured multiple times and during one attack, which destroyed his home, his mother was murdered by the military. When he got out of jail Fela marched her funeral procession past the biggest barracks in Nigeria’s biggest city. He wrote two songs about this attack and he doubled down on his opposition to the military government.

 Fela’s music started causing riots.

 You can read what I have to say about him here. You can listen to his music on youtube.

 Here’s an interview with Bobi Wine, which was conducted shortly after he was tortured in Uganda. He talked about how he was determined to go back and continue fighting. Which he did. He even ran against the president.

 I’ve also got a short piece on Searle who was a cartoonist captured by the Japanese during World War 2. His drawings of what happened in To the Kwai and Back are worth seeing. Especially if you want to write atrocities on this scale. They will show you the scale and how to focus on the small, human elements despite that overwhelming scale.

 Alleg’s The Question is pretty much a must, it’s one of the most thorough accounts from the Franco-Algerian war.

 Monroe’s A Darkling Plain is also a must, it’s a series of interviews with survivors of various different conflicts and atrocities. Some are torture survivors. Some are not. It is essential reading because it shows the variety in survivors as well as giving a sense of their lives beyond the symptoms.

 Finally Amnesty International has literally hundreds of interviews and studies available for free online.

 The most important decision for any story with regards to torture is whether it should be there at all.

 So much of this topic is intimidating and so much of it is difficult to write. Not just in the ‘oh this is horribly effecting’ sense but in the ‘I have twelve things to juggle in this simple scene’ sense.

 Ask yourself what torture adds to this character and this story. What does this backstory actually give this character?

 Because if the point is to have her vulnerable and then ultimately triumphing violently over her attackers I don’t think you want a torture scenario. You could get the same thing from a bad guy trying to drug her and having the kidnapping fail when she fights him off, clumsy but effective nonetheless.

 And she could still come out of something like that traumatised.

 Right now I really don’t see this adding anything but torture apologia to your story.

 Handling torture well in a story means accepting that it can’t be the same story without it. It means watching the characters and narrative warp under the weight of it. It means lasting effects, for all the characters and for the world itself.

 I believe you are capable of writing that if you want to, pet. But this ain’t it.

Edit: I’m having trouble seeing the beginning of the answer here. Can anyone let me know if there are formatting issues again please? The first word in the htmal is ‘Alright’ but what I’m seeing on tumblr starts 8 paragraphs in.

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

#songsprite #writing advice #tw torture #tw racism #torture apologia #fantasy ask #torture does not work #torture survivors are not broken #resistance to torture #torturers are not omnipotent #antagonism towards torturers #so called psychological torture #clean torture #attitudes towards torture survivors #attitudes towards clean tortures #torture and memory #writing survivors #writing symptoms #writing torture #you don't need torture to traumatise your character

[enigmasandepiphanies]

The Mitchells vs The Machines: Listicle Review

1. Fingers scrolling the phones at the dining table, mothers comparing themselves to a "happy family" aesthetic on social media, fathers trying hard to understand the passions of the kids, kids wishing to turn their passions into career opportunities, and a dog everyone loves. These are very real modern family relationships in an animated movie.

2. The lead character, Katie isn't portrayed as your outsider archetype. She is not trying to be cool. She has her quirky interests and she is not addicted to technology in sense of curating a personality that meets the internet standards. Katie wants to follow the spark of her passions to create and meet her tribe. Scary relatability.

3. The conflicts and complications of the family aren't abusive. They arise out of fear to not watch your loved ones getting hurt. There are a few slice-of-life families with no power dynamics to conquest and emotions of pettiness and jealousy not being stirred. Family is a relationship and it is sweet how you make efforts because you love each other at the end of the day.

4. Oh how I envy the sibling bond! A person to share a niche interest with, a personally crafted high five, and a person for a good heart to heart. I am so done with the tropes of siblings being apathetic towards each other's interests. Give me characters who indulge in your dinosaur interests and make movies with you. Give me characters who don't brush off your random infodump rants, oh goodness, give me characters who will hype your interests and love you for it.

5. The normalized but distinguished yet subtle way of showing queer representation is swoon-worthy. You see pride badges and rainbow flags in the rooms but it is never spoken, coming out is not the trope at all. You don't have the token gay scenes because it is real and raw. It exists all the time because it is just who you are and that's an example of great queer representation.

6. The Machine part is dystopian, real, haunting, and terrifying. It is a robot apocalypse but it is not about technology being good or evil. It shows how it opens doors to the most astounding imaginations and creativity but it also shows corporate houses data mining to establish power dynamics. These things can coexist and this movie does it beautifully.

Easily adding it to my comfort films of all times.

#the mitchells vs the machines #the mitchells vs the machines spoilers #eni reviews media #animated movies #animation #movies

[arcadefl00r]

a small little tiny thing that's been bothering me about the whole Backrooms thing is that it's brought a lot of insight about how people go about writing horror now a days.

a big misunderstanding i feel is that horror doesn't need to be chock full of content, it doesn't have to have an explanation or a reason for everything. a big part of horror IS the unknown.

the reason the Backrooms was so good as a concept that was so unsettling was because of the vagueness of it. there was no itty gritty details, there were no monsters. the idea of being stuck in an endless hum buzz of similar hallways without being able to escape, being driven to eventual madness, was already terrifying enough. there was no need for 100+ levels or even any semblance of a monster (forget multiple monsters that end up being very samey shadowy creatures that do the same thing of chase you until you DIE. makes me shake in my boots i tell ya).

the thing that made the Backrooms so scary was ripped away from it the moment people started adding more onto it. and i think this reveals a larger issue in newer horror media, particularly in terms of writing.

a big BIG concept in horror is the fear of the unknown. both in a literal and metaphorical sense. humans are, naturally, scared of things that we don't know about. if you step into the darkness, and suddenly don't know where you're going or where you are, what you're doing, what's ahead of you, more likely than not, you're going to be scared. even if you say you're not, youre definitely, at least subconsciously, shitting yourself.

this aspect of horror has been explored so much, it's a common and simple thing to explore. even if you don't realize it. take The Thing, for example. it's a pretty simple story; people are stuck in a research lab in the arctic, find a monster they took in themselves, and are forced into a situation where they can't trust each other, trying to figure out who is the monster as it takes more and more of their lives. The Thing is a paranoia film, particularly one in which we're meant to be scared because we don't know who is the real monster. we don't know where the monster is. we don't know what will happen next. The Thing is scary, not because of the big scary fleshy monster that eats people and turns into dogs or whatever, it's scary because we, as an audience alongside these characters, don't know what the monster is. we are scared of it, because it is unknown to us. and the people we trust are unknown to us as well.

lets take a more modern horror film. say, US. US is an incredible film, i adore it, and while i won't discuss the plot in its entirety because i will go on for longer than this already is, it's a wonderful example of what horror does right. US is a very striking film both visually and plot-wise. it gives us enough information to have a grasp of what's going on, and there's a lot of visual cues that guide us along the film. however, it doesn't feed us information endlessly. again, it gives us just enough to know what we're watching and what to sort of expect, but it isn't filled to the brim with unnecessary details. it's scary to think about a person separate from ourselves, but IS us, to confront us and want to be free, to live as we usually would. especially when we don't understand or know why it's happening to us. it's fucking uncanny. and oh my god is it a good movie.

now lets go back to the Backrooms. sure, it's a little unfair to compare films to a story that is mostly told through text entries in an a secret underground government document format, but my point still stands. the original Backrooms was profound and hard hitting, because the second you thought of it in any capacity, it's terrifying in its nature. being stuck, unable to get out, traversing endless hallways with an unending buzzing sound and fluorescent lights bearing down upon you, losing track of time, of yourself, not knowing what to expect. that's fucking scary. not whatever the fuck those fruity ass colorful barf fest of party guys who latch onto your back and lure you in with balloons are.

oh, sure, a lot of it has very neat concepts. i for one enjoy a lot of the entries, some of the entities really peaked my interest (especially the ones that weren't weird shadowy guys who chased you down a sewer and KILLED you because it's BAD). some of the tid bits of stories i really enjoyed combing through, and even still go back to read because they're so interesting.

i just sort of wish they werent the Backrooms.

a lot of the content added is unnecessary. hell, i'd say all of it is. there was no need for another level, forget the concept of levels as a whole. there was no need for entities that do nothing but populate the levels for the sake of it, and for the sake of having a tangible thing to fear which already wasn't needed. i feel like a lot of entries in the wiki work as their own stand alone stories or concepts, there's no need to attach all these clashing ideas into an already terrifying concept, especially when it does nothing to serve it except lose a bit of that fear factor.

horror doesn't need to be filled to the brim, to the point of overflowing, of content.

that isn't what makes horror good.

i want to end this with saying that i don't have anything against the wiki i'm referencing, again i enjoy a lot of the concepts and entities within its many, many entries. i just find it interesting how a small story made by a 4channer that genuinely made me scared to lean against walls incorrectly could be added onto so much that it stripped it of a lot of what made it scary to me in the first place. i also find it interesting that this is a very common thing within modern horror media to spoon feed us so many details for the sake of it instead of genuinely trying to be scary. otherwise this is just a very late night ramble from a very pretentious film kid because i couldn't stop thinking about it when one of my friends brought it up earlier in the day. cheers

#the backrooms #backrooms #horror #horror writing #rambles #horror films #horror fiction #i wake up in like 4 hours and spent my time doing this instead of catching up on my calc homework i hope you're happy

[lovelypurpletyphoon]

Next up in my series is about six characters that live in NYC or are associated with events there. A couple of these characters are some of my oldest ocs.

First is Brom Skelleto, whose name is a placeholder until I decide on something more normal. He's the descendant of Brom Bones from Sleepy Hollow. You probably know who I'm talking about. In this series, Brom Bones was the headless horseman, but not in the way you'd think. Basically, detachable heads run in the family due to a weird genetic condition. Though for the person's head to become detachable it needs to be detached first, usually by accident.

Modern day Brom is a shy jock who loves his horses and wants to keep neat old traditions alive. He moved from Sleepy Hollow to NYC after learning that there's places in town to keep horses and possible jobs with the local mounted units.

He's also in love with another character but is too afraid of rejection to ask her out. He decides to stalk her, but then makes friends with someone more experienced whom knocked some sense into Brom and taught him to sing. I'll introduce that character later.

Next is a brilliant CDC scientist in training named Amanda Reeves. I don't have a drawing of her because I need to learn how to draw black people. She's a kind, quiet person who appreciates the finer details of life. On the job, she's a brilliant strategist who won't stop until she finds what she's looking for. Though she isn't a fan of crowds and noise, she manages to survive the city.

I must note that she's one of two characters that are fictional descendants of real historical figures. I'm not sure how I feel about this, but these characters are already established and I don't have the heart to change them. She's descended from the legendary lawman Bass Reeves.

Now this next character does have some concept art, but I never got around to finishing it. Meet Lily Broderick, NYPD officer, musical fan, architecture enthusiast, and descendant of The One Man Riot Squad, Johnny Broderick.

Lily's a very friendly person who loves to travel and has little concept of personal space. She's close friends with Amanda and Brom and is roommates with the former.

Due to her family history, her relationship with other police officers is shaky. Johnny Broderick lived during a time where police frequently used excessive force, and the NYPD was reluctant to let one of his descendants work in the field. So far she has a track record of being very gentle with suspects, partly because she doesn't want to get nervous and hurt someone.

Antigone Crane is also a sort of placeholder name. She's descended from Ichabod Crane and is one of my more unstable characters. Like the old schoolmaster, she's frequently paranoid about the supernatural yet loves horror stories and scary movies. However, her response is "fight and trap the thing" instead of running away.

In her mind she's a brilliant monster hunter who just has bad luck in catching things.

Somehow she maintains a job as a NASA engineer, recycling broken machines into new tech. She's created an impressive arsenal of net launchers, robotic tracking machines, and deployable electric fences. Currently she's attempting to build a working proton pack so she can catch the Headless Horseman. Also she's kind of a stalker.

Taze Mane, whom I can't find a good drawing of, was one of my first characters and is proof that this was gonna be a completely different series. He's a revenant who was originally going to be a zombie mantis person. I'll cover that in another post.

His original backstory was that he was a construction worker trying to support his younger sister when an accident on the job resulted in a mantis boi pancake several stories below what he'd been working on. Then he crawled out of his grave, went home, and took a shower.

An interesting concept I developed was that in rare cases a person's microbiome can sorta take over to save their host. The microbes take on the jobs of different cells and bring their host back from the dead. It's never contagious. This occurrence is so rare that the undead are the ones at risk because of a fear of zombies.

I'm thinking of replacing Taze with a different revenant character but keeping the same rules about revenants.

Lastly, a character whom lots of people have their own versions of. The Phantom of the Opera, Erik. While he doesn't live in NYC, he became good friends with Brom after the horseman visited Paris to stalk his crush. The two maintain contact over the internet and other media, one of the benefits of living in this era.

His mask design is a mix between French and Japanese fox legends inspired by the 19th century trend of Japonism. I imagine that Erik at least heard of fox masks during his travels.

Erik doesn't usually open up to people and prefers to avoid social contact altogether, but he's curious around people he might have something in common with. While he's generally an angry person, he isn't a complete snob and loves to explore changing musical trends. He's particularly fond of certain musicals and often sneaks into showings of his favorites. Sometimes he chats with Lily over the phone about musicals they'd like to see.

Also, in this version he completely sucks at cooking. Brom and him kinda exchanged music lessons for cooking lessons, so that helped a little.

Well, I think that's all. One more thing, Erik may or may not have actual supernatural abilities in this version. He seems like the kind of guy who'd teleport away from his problems.

#old drawing #original character #oc #headless horseman #ichabod crane #erik the phantom of the opera #phantom of the opera #nyc