#like i do agree with the point others are making in saying that not every gay person dates the first gay person they meet

[paper-mario-wiki]

transfems can be women but you are not, you're an agp

(i actually blocked the original person who sent this and then resent it to myself on anon to keep the presentation fitting since i would like to share my perspective on this anyhow. here's what i would have said to this straw-man argument-haver if they weren't already blocked!)

TL;DR: you're wrong with both of the things you asserted in your statement. 1) i am not an AGP which is because 2) AGP's are exactly as much of a woman as i am.

what meaningful categorization could you put on someone to fit the description of "autogynophile" that precludes them from womanhood without inherently being contradictorily transphobic? "it turns them on to think about being vaginally penetrated" yeah i bet a lot of cishet woman fantasize about that too. "they only changed their identity because they like being a lady so much it helps them get off" okay? and? this is not a categorization which is inherently predatory, so who cares? gender is, irrevocably, an invention. it's a farce. it's nothing, we made it up, that's the whole point of agreeing that people can change it if they say they want to.

drawing a social line by the physical distinctions of "do they have penis or the other one" is as arbitrary as separating people by right handedness and left handedness or the eye color they were born with. the social expectations, behaviors, and woes are a consequence of the fact that everyone has been taught "this is just how it is, and it makes you different in every way, and this is how it's always been, and this is how it'll always be", same as the way people keep using fiat currencies (the US dollar for example), despite them being backed up by no singular tangible thing in any way that matters, aside from the word of the person who controls it.

and sometimes going along with that stuff is fine! i mean not the money, but the other one. the gender one. i like to be called a woman, while also knowing that "woman" is an invention. "pretty" is also an invention, and i love to be called that. "sonic the hedgehog" is an invention that people talk about using the same verbiage they use when describing real, tangible, breathing creatures, despite the fact that sonic the hedgehog exists conceptually and not physically (not including physical representations, which are not the same thing).

i think agp's are also women. if i could read someone's mind and they said "hi im a woman" but i knew they were thinking "im actually a man" i would still say "hello woman" because they might as well have given me their name for all the difference it makes in how we interact moving forward. if someone has no intention or probability to harm themselves or anyone else, i couldn't care less.

all that being said, you're wrong with both of the things you asserted in your statement. 1) i am not an AGP because 2) AGP are exactly as much of a woman as i am. it is a meaningless category coined by bigots and only given credibility by people with bigoted views.

#anon #transphobia

[mssainz]

PART 5 | AFTER FIVE YEARS

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.

Warning: None

You woke up from the sunlight radiating from your window. It's been a few days since you and Carlos met. You don't want to talk to him after what happened.

Cael, I want to kick your father's crotch sometimes or maybe pull his wavy hair. Why does he have to be an ass?

It's still seven in the morning and Cael is still sound asleep on his bed. You went to his room and gave him a kiss before going to the kitchen. You have your morning coffee and a bagel, hoping that it would somewhat boost you to start your day.

You were scrolling through your contacts at the counter, when you felt a tiny hand grasping your pajamas. You were startled, almost choking yourself with the bagel. You looked down and saw Cael rubbing his eyes.

“Mama up,” Cael said, spreading his arm towards you. It is Cael's thing. He says that when he wants your attention and affection. He also does this randomly when he feels like you are having a bad day. Cael is an empath we might say.

You lifted Cael and kissed his plump cheeks. His head immediately rests on your shoulder. “Good morning, baby. How's your sleep?”

“Still sleepy Mama,” Cael said groggily.

“My baby is still sleepy. Okay, do you want to go back to bed or do you wanna have breakfast, honey?,” You replied, rubbing Cael's back.

“Breakfast Mama. I want a pancake,” Cael said, still resting his head on your shoulders.

“Okay, will you help Mama make pancakes?” Cael face you and gave you a nod.

Max, Lando, Carlos, Charles, and Daniel went for a quick break from playing padel. Everyone got their drink and sat down on the foldable chairs under the shade. They are taking their time before the race weekend.

“You're going aggressive with the ball man, huh?” Max said, pertaining to Carlos who is madly attacking whenever the ball touches his racket.

“I have a four-year-old son,” Carlos said, looking blankly at the esky.

“Oh yeah? Well, I have twins, a girl and a boy actually,” Lando said sarcastically, not believing a word Carlos said.

“You met him?” (Max)

“You mean Cael?” (Charles)

“Finally.” (Daniel)

Max, Charles, and Daniel said in chorus. Carlos confusedly looked at the three. On the other hand, Lando is busy gulping every single drop of his drink.

“You guys know Cael?” Carlos replied to the three.

“Who’s Cael? What am I missing?” Lando blurted out. Wiping and licking remnants of his drink on the corner of his lips.

“Yeah,” Max replied.

“What the hell? Since when did you know Cael?” Carlos asks, feeling betrayed.

“Ever since. Like when he was about to turn one.” Charles replied this time.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Lando said, trying to grasp what is going on.

“Why didn't you tell me, you bastards?” Carlos said. He is upset that how come that these guys know about Cael since he was one. But he only got to know him, now that he is already four .

“She wants us to tell no one about Cael, especially you. Plus, it's not our story to tell Carlos. You know that,” Daniel explained.

“But how did you meet him? Li- Like how?” Carlos asks them curiously. He is puzzled how it happened.

“YN contacted us telling us that she wants us to be your son's godfather,” Max said while swirling the RB drink in his hand.

“Godfather? Who among you is Cael's godfather?” Carlos confusedly asked. Max, Charles, and Daniel raised their hands.

“Plus, Lewis,” Daniel added.

“Wait, you and YN have a child? And I, Lando Norris, who is closest to her, is not a godfather?” Lando said in disbelief, summarizing what is happening at least in his point of view. He is feeling more betrayed than Carlos is.

“‘Cause you can't keep your mouth shut, Land,” Max said, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, you will probably run happily to Carlos and tell him about Cael,” Charles added, teasing Lando.

“Yes. Spitting facts,” Daniel said, agreeing to both of them.

“But, btw how did you know Carlos? Did you meet them already? Did she tell you?” Carles throwing multiple questions.

“We met at the plaza by accident. She told me Cael is mine,” Carlos replied, not mentioning the details how.

“By accident? What happened then?” Daniel said, looking intently at Carlos like a gossip girl.

“Cael got lost at the plaza. I found him and gave him back to her. And you know what? Cael seems to know me. But looking at her reaction when I saw her with Cael, I can tell she doesn't want us to meet that way. So I introduce myself to Cael as Uncle Chilli.”

“Uncle Chilli what the fuck? HAHAHAHA. Cael knows you man. He knows that the Carlos Sainz is his father,” Max replied, laughing his ass off at Carlos.

“So there is still no proper introduction yet?” Charles said while covering Max’s mouth, shutting him up from laughing.

“Yeah, Y/N and I actually had a heated conversation,” Carlos said, almost a whisper.

“Don't tell me you fucked it up again?” Daniel asked, squinting his eyes at Carlos.

“Based on how he play padel, he did fucked up,” Max replied, answering it for him.

“Shut up Max,” Carlos rebuked. He knows he fucked up he don't need the boys shoving it into his face.

“I still don't know what to do. I'm still finding a way to talk to her again, maybe after the Spanish Grand Prix. But I guess, we just need to cool down for now.” Carlos stands up and walks back to the court with his racket.

“Yeah, you need to cool down but try not to smash the ball six feet off the ground!” Max said, not missing a chance to let his thoughts win.

Max and Charles followed Carlos to the court to play another round. Daniel remained sitting down for a bit to rest.

“Hey Lando, come on. What are you sulking about?,” Charles called out for Lando, who was pouting and not blinking.

“I'm not a Godfather,” Lando said, giving him a death stare.

“What the hell?” Charles replied, being done with the whole godfather thing.

“I know what you need to do. Baptize your son again and let me be a godfather. ¡Por favor, Carlos!” Lando yelled out to Carlos at the court. He just sighed and rolled his eyes at Lando, before throwing him the padel ball.

TAGLIST:

@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @openthenyoor01 @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @xoscar03 @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @mxdi0 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr @glai1023-blog @not-nyasa @jolixtreesunn @changetyre @thatsusbitch @distancedss @miarabanana @voidsfics @jasminesacademia @glow-ish @ccallistata @carpediem241108 @thearchieves @kenzeyeballs @formula1simp @dessxoxsworld @hoeforsirius @norwayxo

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x reader #formula one x you #formula 1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #afterfiveyears

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Cash Slave, reporting in...

Good morning, master. State Trooper Hernandez reporting!

I hope you're doing well since the last time we saw each other. Again, I can't apologize enough for pulling you over on the highway. I had no idea you were such an amazing hypnotist. Thank you again for letting me get off easy and only making me taze myself twice! I was paralyzed in that muddy ditch for awhile, but you could've given me a helluva worse punishment!

Your instructions aren't negotiable, so I made sure to snap a photo before I started my shift today. As you suggested, I've been eating a box of donuts every morning, and I've packed on a hefty 30 lbs since I've started. My wife has complained, but I know you want me to look more like a cliche of law enforcement!

I'll stop by your house to drop off my paycheck tonight after work. I won't forget to pick up some pizza for you and your friends on the way: extra sausage, just like you said!

See you tonight, master!

Hello sir.

It's been a week since you came into my shop, and I've followed everything you said. I didn't agree with it at first, but you convinced me with that little pendant.

You were right! I really am beneath powerful men like you. Filthy blue-collar workers aren't worthy to lick the dirt off your shoes. You were right to point that out, and you were right to tell me to embrace it. When the world looks at me, they shouldn't see a man. They should see a grease monkey at the bottom of society.

That's why I haven't showered or changed in seven days. My BO is uncomfortable to work in, but I know it's just a reminder of what I am. I used to be proud of my job. Ha! I used to look down on suits like you, but I'm nothing in comparison; just a tool at your disposal.

Anyways, I cleaned and waxed your old car as fast as I could. I know I lent you my convertible, but you're welcome to keep it. I put a lot of sweat and blood in fixing her up, but like you said, fancy cars are meant for you to drive and me to maintain.

Stop back in my garage anytime. White-collar men like you get free service here! It's not the place of any lowly laborer to get in the way of what you want.

Thank you again, sir.

Hello boss.

Just started another long day of window washing! It's another hot one, but I'll keep my head down and sweat through it like usual.

I've gotta say, it's days like this that make me miss the comforts of my old corporate desk job. I'd kill for some AC right now, but I remember how much you made me realize I hated that career. Like you said, I'm much better suited to a life of mindless cleaning.

It turns out you're the real one with a knack for business strategy because all of your advice has been genius! The income is dependent on the hours I put in, and since I'm working for half the price of all competitors, I've gotten a monopoly on the market! I've fully booked all seven days for the next five or so weeks, so I'll be washing windows non-stop!

The business is already booming! I've been billing customers to your bank account, so you should already see all the profit in there!

Later today, I'll make a note of the minimum I need to replenish the cleaning supplies I'm running through. I'd also be grateful if you loaned me a bit for personal use, but it's understandable if you can't spare any! We agreed that I wasn't working for a salary, and I'm fine with that! I've been sleeping in the company van the last few weeks and it's more than good enough for me!

Don't worry, boss. I'll get back to work!

Tell my wife hello for me, master!

Working on a rig has been isolating. The job is brutal, the days are long, and every night I head back to our bunks covered in oil. I thought I'd at least get to bond with the other guys, but most of us are too tired to do anything but eat and sleep after our shift.

The only thing that's getting me through it is thinking about you. I know I also have a girl at home, but you were the one that gave my life purpose. I was never going to make money as an actor, and you helped me see that! You were the one that convinced me to go for this ridiculous job in the middle of the ocean, and now I'm making a ton of money!

You deserve it all.

I wouldn't have seen any of this cash if I hadn't stuck around after your stage hypnosis show. I still remember the wild look in your eyes when you came up with this idea for me. I also remember that hungry look you had when you saw my wife. It was impossible to say no.

Oh, and thanks for keeping my wife company while I'm gone. A man like you deserves her attention more than I do. Like you said, I doubt I was pleasing her to begin with. The only thing I'm good for is earning money, and I hope you're enjoying it because it sure isn't easy to earn!

I gotta get back, but I wanted to let you know that I signed up for another six months like you suggested. It's lonely, but I'm happy to do it, master!

Son, or should I still call you 'sir'?

I'm not sure if I your new title applies through text as well? Being your dad and your servant can be a bit confusing, but I don't mean disrespect you! Just let me know.

My workout is done and I'm headed back to your house. I signed the deed over to you this morning, so you officially own it now! Like usual, I'll clean the place from top to bottom. I've got all the mops and cleaning supplies in my van and ready to go. Since it's Friday, I'll start on the weekly yard work; mowing, weeding, etc... I don't want to bore you with the details, but it'll take the majority of the day to keep your place in tip top shape!

As I understand it, you are having friends over tonight, so I'll prepare a three course meal for eight. I ironed my apron this morning so I should look like a more presentable waiter than last night when I served your food!

As always, please let me know if there's any other way I can be of service today or tonight.

I'll be awaiting your return, sir.

Hey little bro,

I just finished my workout at the gym with dad. We're both hitting PRs and we're really starting to see some results! Still can't believe you hypnotized his dumb ass to think he's your butler! That man looks so stupid changing from gym clothes into a bowtie and gloves. He's constantly calling you 'sir' too, even when you're not around.

He's such an idiot.

Anyways, I'm all dressed and ready for my new job. You were totally right. I'm going to be so much happier as a clown instead of a wrestler. I'm about to head out to my first gig; a ten year old's birthday party. I think he's the kid of someone I used to compete with. It might be a little awkward, but it won't affect my routine. I've got an afternoon of pies in the face and self-deprecating humor ahead of me.

I made sure to tell the guy who hired me that I'm willing to stay after and clean up. Kids make a huge mess after all. I just hope he won't be too weird about me being a clown at his son's party. We may have been rivals in the past, but that was back when I wrestled. Now I'm just a joke for hire. He's technically my boss for the day, so I'll have to get used to taking orders from him.

Wish me luck, bro. I'll give you the money after the dad dismisses me. Let's hope I make a good clown!

#mind control #gay hypnosis #hypno story #gay ai art #hypnotized #servant

[vettelsvee]

EACH OTHER BEST KEPT SECRET | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

sebastian vettel x carlos gf!reader

summary: seb's is feeling like shit and the only thing that will make him feel better is having a one night stand with carlos sainz's girlfriend

word count: 4328

warnings: cheating, y/n is carlos sainz's gf and seb is married to hanna (pls do not cheat to your partners!). smut (oral, both female and male receiving; fingering, p in v). curse words. slight degradation. narrated on seb's pov. use of y/n y/l/n.

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback as well as comment and reblogs are truly appreciated! <3

Mick was by my side with a drink in his hand. He was constantly smiling despite getting a worse result, which only made me feel worse. I had dragged myself here so as not to look bad, and all I felt was that I was letting him down and had become more of a burden to him.

How could I enjoy this crappy party when all I wanted was this season to end when it just started?

"Do you really think bringing me here would help me?" I asked him as I waited for the seventh drink I thought I had taken. "I'm not in the mood, and I'm too old for this."

"I know you're not feeling well, Seb, but you need to disconnect a bit. Trust me, you will feel better.”

I reluctantly agreed.

I tried to smile at everyone who greeted or simply looked at me. I even tried to mingle among the bodies swaying back and forth, as drunk as I was, but it was impossible.

I was disappointed with myself. From being a threat on the track to seeming like a rookie.

"You don't look like a rookie, Seb. At least, not like me."

The voice of the recent Haas addition snapped me out of my thoughts. Had I said that out loud?

"Remember why you started all this, Seb," the boy continued. "The passion you have is still there. What's different are the results you're getting."

"Did I speak out loud?"

"This is the definitive sign for me to realize you’ve had enough alcohol today,” he pointed at my glass, filled to the brim with gin and tonic. "That's the last drink you're having. I don't want to drag you to your room. What would Hanna say if she saw you like this?"

She'd probably want me to have a good time, for sure.

"That I should stop drinking, or what?" I replied to Schumacher.

"Exactly. Don't let the pressure collapse you, Seb. You don't deserve that."

After talking a bit more about the disastrous first race of the year that we both had, Mick dragged me to the center of the dance floor. I refused several times at first, insisting that I wasn't one to let loose in front of others, but the boy was so enthusiastic, and I was so wasted, that I decided to go along with him and the atmosphere.

I moved not as timidly as I expected to the rhythm of the music, setting aside my worries and, above all, starting to care less and less about what would happen from now on with every drop of alcohol I ingested.

I noticed how suddenly Mick stopped. His gaze was fixed on a girl who passed next to us and who, undoubtedly, looked quite attractive, at least that's what the blond's looks confirmed. I also stopped my body's dance and turned to her, but it was quite difficult to recognize who she was among the crowd. Her dark green sequined dress and her raven hair, falling in waves over her back, were, at that moment, the only things that seemed to stand out from her in the dimness of the nightclub.

Who the hell was the girl who seemed to have caught my eye?

"Seb, are you coming?"

Mick's shouts over the music briefly made my eyes divert to him, then quickly return my attention to the stranger. She was now moving quite sensually with who knows who, somehow making me, Sebastian Vettel, married and a father, start to get excited.

"You go ahead, Mick. I'd rather stay here for a while."

My answer, barely audible, was a complete lie.

Of course, I wanted to go with him. What I didn't want was to once again succumb to temptation as I did with Astrid a few years ago.

"Wait, Mick!" I shouted, approaching the boy enough to grab him by the bottom of his shirt and pull him back to me. "Who is she?"

"Don't you know her? Seriously?"

I denied it too many times for him not to understand.

Did he really think that if I knew who she was, I would be asking him?

Mick, with a mischievous smile, finally understood that I was more confused than I would like.

"It's Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N. An influencer. She makes TikTok videos and all that stuff," the blond whispered in my ear. "She's also Carlos's girlfriend, in case you're interested to know."

I tried to remember, but the drunkenness prevented me from recalling any kind of connection or image of that girl. Y/N Y/L/N, Carlos's girlfriend... Sainz? Of course, it had to be Sainz, there was no other Carlos on the grid... that I knew of.

"Oh, yeah, of course," I lied. The last thing I wanted was to admit that right now I didn't remember anything about that girl. "Carlos Sainz dad or son?" I added, then laughed.

Mick looked at me, raising an eyebrow. Clearly, my last comment didn't amuse him.

"You seriously don't remember her?"

"Well, I talk to too many people throughout the day, and I have more important things on my mind than that girl whose dress gives her a perfect ass, you know?" I tried to excuse myself.

"If you don't know her, as you say... Why don't you go and say hello? It never hurts to socialize, and maybe it'll help you forget all the birds you have flying around in your head," the boy insisted, ignoring my previous comments.

I felt a mix of shyness and concern invading me. If I approached the supposed girlfriend of Sainz, not only was I letting down my wife, but also a colleague. I didn't know who could be around here or what might happen if we were seen talking.

I was sure that if I approached her, there were two options: either I made her uncomfortable, or everything was misinterpreted, and we both got into trouble unintentionally.

"I don't want to overwhelm her, Mick," I replied. Right now, I couldn't think of coherent excuses, but any seemed good to me. "What would I say? 'Hello, Sebastian, how are you?' Come on Mick, we're not kids anymore."

Mick crossed his arms. His eyes revealed amusement, and there was no doubt he was enjoying this.

"Seb, you're at a party. Talking is what you do at a party, not talking about cars all the time, that's what briefings are for."

"But..."

"Stop being silly. Go and say hello. You'll see she doesn't bite."

I loved Mick Schumacher like a son and like a little brother, but moments like this were when we seemed like teenage brothers fighting over control of a video game.

"Fine, I'll go say hello," I finally relented.

"You won't regret it, you'll see."

I was sure I would regret it.

I was drunk, and I could barely remember my own name.

I wasn't sober, and I knew I was about to make another mistake, one I didn't know if I would regret as soon as I woke up.

I was Sebastian Vettel, and, of course, adrenaline and the forbidden attracted me.

I had done it once before, and everything had stayed between Astrid and me, so... why not do it again for a second time, and let everything stay between Y/N and me?

"This place is too packed."

Y/N turned around, our chests almost touching. I immediately lowered my gaze, and it was difficult for me to look away from her cleavage, quite revealing.

"I hope it is not full of idiots like you, Vettel. My face is up here, not between my tits."

Shit.

"Sorry," I said, rushing. Did I really have to screw it up now?

"Do you need something, Vettel?"

"Do you want to go out for some fresh air?" I asked without even thinking. "The music is too loud, so it's going to be hard for me to hear you."

Y/N seemed to consider it for a moment. Her expression betrayed indecision and, at the same time, I would dare say curiosity. After a brief silence that felt like an eternity, and where I was praying that she saw me with the same eyes as I saw her, she agreed.

We walked outside, she in front of me and me acting as if I were doing something completely normal. I sat on some steps far enough away so no one could see us; to my surprise, she sat next to me closer than I expected.

"Well, Vettel, what's the reason for wanting to talk to me so badly?" the young woman demanded to know.

I'd like to tell her that I'd like to fuck her tonight, but that wouldn't be very polite of me.

"Well... I don't know. I saw you and I said, 'Oh, it's Y/N, Carlos's girlfriend,'" I emphasized the last part to see if she reacted. There was no reaction on her part, so I counted it as a win. "I wanted to say hi."

"Did your nerves also wanted to say hi?"

I said nothing.

"From the little we've talked you seem like a nice guy, Sebastian," she continued speaking, calling me by my name for the first time. "But today it seems like you're especially quite interested in talking to me. Do you have something else to tell me, or is it just a feeling I have right now because I've been drinking?"

"Maybe."

I tried to keep my composure, but her getting even closer to me, and starting to caress me in a way that sent shivers down my spine, and leaving her hand on my thigh, too close to my member, made all the hair on my body stand on end.

She smiled, and then I knew I had achieved my goal.

"Why don't we go somewhere more private, Seb?" she whispered in my ear. Her index finger traced my arm, while her right hand began to undo a few buttons on my shirt. "It would be great if we continued this conversation without any chance of being interrupted."

"Do you think you're going to talk a lot tonight? The only thing coming out of your mouth is going to be you moaning my name, Y/N."

"Are you sure you're going to get what you might want, Mr. Vettel?"

God. I didn't expect her to play along, but now I was sure I was going to need more of that.

"Sure, as long as Carlos doesn't find out," I said, deep down, with concern.

"Well then, let's get out of here then, as long as Hanna doesn't find out..."

She nodded with a playful smile, and immediately, I forced myself to get up and find a taxi.

Of the thousands that seemed to be around, I decided to stop the only one that was moving towards us. When it stopped in front of us, I opened one of the back doors for Y/N and settled in next to her, putting on my sunglasses to avoid being recognized.

"To the Grove Hotel, please."

No need to say anything else because, in an instant, the driver set off.

As the vehicle moved through the night streets of Bahrain, Y/N and I seemed to become one. Her hands grabbed the collar of my shirt and she pressed her lips against mine. Even knowing that we were taking a risk, I decided to undo her seatbelt to position her on top of me, where I had much greater access to her entire body. The kisses became faster, more aggressive, and I felt my erection growing at a dizzying speed.

"Is your friend happy to see me, Sebastian?" the girl asked, rubbing herself slowly and torturously against my bulge.

"You'll see him as soon as we get to my room."

I couldn't say much more because my hands acted for me, grabbing her neck and starting to bite it, sucking, and surely leaving a few marks that I didn't give a shit if they showed. Her moans grew louder and louder, begging me for more.

We were lucky that our journey had ended because I was more than convinced that if we had continued like that, I would have fucked her right there.

We got out quickly, trying to act as if nothing had happened, but once we were in the elevator we acted the same way again. Torturing each other seemed to have become the main game of the night, caring less and less about being discovered. The forbidden seemed to excite us more, and I didn't blame the Spanish woman: after all, it was me who had started everything.

When we reached the door of my room I forced myself to stop kissing her. Y/N, however, stood behind me on tiptoe, wrapping her arms around my neck. I turned around and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me and searching her eyes to see if she wanted the same thing I did at that moment.

"Do you want to come in?" I asked in a soft, husky voice.

She nodded, and with a movement that seemed memorized, I swiped the card through the reader, opened the door, and forced her to step inside.

Once I made sure I had locked the door, I knew everything was done.

She wearing only her black lace underwear, threw herself into my arms to continue what she had been doing on our way here. I lifted her astride me, her legs around my waist, and leaned her back against the wall, continuing to kiss her fiercely while she finished unbuttoning my shirt, throwing it somewhere as soon as she finished her task.

"Y/N..."

"You're horny, aren't you, Sebastian?"

"If you know I am why the fuck do you ask?"

My reluctant comment made the young woman hit my ches. I knew she wanted to go down, so I let her down and, as soon as her feet touched the carpeted surface, she got on her knees and started to unfasten my belt, then the button of my pants before pulling them down.

She left a trail of kisses on the lower part of my stomach and on the beginning of my groin, playing at the same time with the elastic of my boxers and my member.

"Let's see what we have here..."

She pulled down my underwear in one swift motion, leaving my cock, fully erect, exposed.

Her right hand wrapped around it in an instant, moving it up and down too slowly for my liking. I began to sigh, but I refused to beg her to speed up, hoping she would realize it herself. Soon enough, her tongue started to lick my tip, and pre-cum appeared as if out of nowhere; before I knew it, she was sucking on it like a child with a lollipop.

"You look so good like this, Y/N. I know that having another man's cock in your mouth, not your boyfriend's, turns you on more than you might want to admit. You must be fucking wet..."

I couldn't say anything else, but my moans seemed to say it all. My hands were on her head, indirectly urging her to go faster because I was getting closer and closer to what I hoped would be the first orgasm of the night. She listened to me: at least that's what she seemed to understand when a much greater sense of pleasure invaded me as her tongue began to make circular movements on my glans while she continued to suck without stopping and masturbate the part that wouldn't fit.

I came in her mouth without warning, and she swallowed everything without a word, moving her tongue over her lips to finish taking the remnants.

She got up and the only thing I could do, almost powerless, was throw her onto the bed and position myself on top of her to undress her and finally make her mine.

After unhooking her bra and being just about to start taking care of her lower part, my cell phone began to ring.

"Damn it..."

"Pick it up, daddy," she demanded. "We don't want anyone to find out about our secret, do we?"

Having her beneath me, teasing me as if she were an innocent schoolgirl, when all she was doing was provoking me even more, got me even hornier.

I picked up the phone and saw who the call was from.

Hanna.

"It's my wife," was all I could say. The annoying ringtone kept on, but I didn't dare to answer the call.

"Why aren't you answering?" 

"I'm with you, darling. Let it wait."

"What if we do something better?"

The girl sat up a bit on the bed and moved to the edge of it. The call seemed to be continuing, and my unease grew. Did Hanna imagine what I was doing right now, like this, with Y/N? Did she even consider the possibility that I might be unfaithful?

"Sebastian," the girl spoke again, "eat me while you talk to your wife."

"What?"

"Don't you want to play?" she asked. Again, that playful tone that turned me on so much came from her lips. "Well, let's play, but let’s do it my way."

I hated being challenged, and it seemed she knew it perfectly well.

Great. Did she want to play? Well, she was going to get it.

I got on my knees, still holding the phone in my hand. Hanna had already hung up, but that didn't mean I couldn't do things properly.

I selected her contact and put the call on speaker, leaving the device on the bed. I grabbed Y/N by her thighs and dragged her a bit further onto the surface, aligning her pussy perfectly with my face.

I yanked her panties off and the girl let out a surprised scream that coincided with my wife answering the call.

"Seb, are you okay? Is something wrong?"

And indeed, something was wrong, but Hanna Vettel wasn't aware of it, nor could she be.

"Yes, yes..." I replied as calmly as I could while I began to play with a finger between the girl's folds, spreading her wetness all over her pussy to lubricate her well. "It's just that I had to come to the bathroom because it was too noisy, and,you know how people are... having sex in stalls where barely one person fits."

Taking advantage of the fact that now it was my wife's turn to talk, I began to entertain myself with the girl's clitoris, who was ending her moans by putting a hand over her mouth.

"Do you remember when we used to do it?" my wife exclaimed excitedly. "We should do it again next time I come to see you."

"Damn it, Seb!"

"Honey, did I hear someone say your name, or am I just imagining things? Please tell me I'm not going crazy."

Shit. Sticking two fingers inside Y/N without warning hadn't been a good idea.

"No, no, no! There's another guy here named Sebastian. He met a girl named... Y/N, and look, now he must be doing something good to her for the girl to have screamed," I lied the best I could.

"And you're doing it really well," Y/N whispered so that only I could hear. "No wonder Hanna wants to do it with you in some disco bathroom. Who wouldn't fuck you anywhere?"

I took the opportunity to spread her legs even further and sliding my tongue, flat, over her entrance, moving up slowly enough to make her desperate, all the way up to her clitoris. Her hand was on my hair, gripping it tightly so that I wouldn't stop; I quickly moved it away and nodded towards the phone, where Hanna was still on the line.

"When are you coming back, Seb?" my wife spoke again. "The girls are asking more and more about you, and I don't know what else to tell them to make them stop."

"Well..."

Shit. Y/N had to stop arching her back, tilting her head back, and massaging her right breast because all that did was let me know that she was about to come, and for now, I didn't want her to reach that point.

My goal at that moment was twofold: to prevent Hanna, my wife, from discovering what I was doing, and to prevent Y/N, who seemed to be my new lover, from coming, no matter that three of my fingers were entering and exiting her at the same time as the tip of my tongue moved quickly over her clitoris.

"Seb? Can you hear me? Do you have coverage?"

"Yes, yes!" I hoped I didn't have coverage. "Although it's getting worse every time I think.”

The Spanish girl was close, I could feel it in the contractions of her entrance around my fingers. I wrapped my arms around her thighs and pulled her even closer to me, if that was even possible. I placed my right hand on the lower part of her stomach, forcing her to stay still.

"Hey, Hanna, I'm going to hang up because I think my phone is running out of battery," I lied again. Now, my only goal was to eagerly lick my new girl, not to talk to the woman I had been sharing my life with for years. "How about we talk tomorrow? I'll call you before I'm at the airport."

"Sure, Seb. Take care and don't do anything crazy, okay? And take care of Mick too, I don't want him doing anything crazy either."

I didn't give her time to say anything else because I pressed the red button at the same time as I withdrew from Y/N.

"You're a son of a bitch, Sebastian Vettel," was all the young woman said. I knew she wanted to kill me at that moment for leaving her on the edge of ecstasy.

"You know as well as I do that you'll thank me soon when I make you mine. The next time you fuck Carlos you regret it’s not me making you feel wanting to be fucked like the slut you are."

I put on the condom as quickly as I could and forced her legs to wrap around my waist.

I entered her abruptly, and now I was convinced that her scream had gone beyond the four walls surrounding us.

"Oh God, Sebastian. Don't stop, please."

"I hadn't planned on it, angel," I replied as best I could. Pleasure had invaded me too quickly, and I was quite surprised.

Why was the forbidden so tempting?

Her back arched again as my thrusts increased in both speed and depth. Her legs seemed to give way because I knew it would be difficult for her to hold out without coming after having been so close before; I kept them on my waist with one of my hands, while the other began to rub her most sensitive spot relentlessly.

"Look at me."

My voice sounded too demanding, but I didn't care.

"Look at me right now, angel," I repeated after seeing that she hadn't listened to me.

I felt her walls surrounding my penis as if her insides were on fire. Her gaze tortured me; her teeth biting her lower lip made me want to put her in a thousand more positions, to keep going with her until we both died of pleasure.

My hips increased in speed when I felt the nervousness in the lower part of my stomach. Then, I forced her to lie down more to start kissing her neck desperately, licking and sucking her nipples, making her sighs increase and forcing me to forget all worries.

Was it the same person who just a few hours ago was crawling around the corners because she had stopped being who she was a few years ago?

If having sex with Y/N would make me forget everything, I was more than condemned to madness because that was what I intended to keep doing if she allowed me.

"Seb..." the girl gasped. I felt her nails digging into my back. The pain that on another occasion would have seemed unbearable was now giving me pleasure.

I was desperate to come. I felt like I was about to explode, but I controlled myself because I didn't want the night to end so soon.

My hands went from holding her lower extremities to massaging her breasts, so big they didn't fit in my hands. I forced myself to stop giving her hickeys on her neck to lift myself up a little and enjoy the sight in front of me. My cock entered and exited Y/N constantly, more regularly even though I couldn't take it anymore; her breasts moving so irregularly because self-control was impossible, and her hand massaging her clit forcefully to come once and for all was an absolute damnation.

"Sebastian!"

I watched her squint her eyes after her shout because she wanted to see herself reach what we both had longed for that night. I followed her with a guttural sound and my semen filling the condom as my hands gripped her hips for as long as I was coming.

I stayed inside her long enough to realize that it had been real.

Meanwhile, silence had taken over. The only thing that could be heard was our breaths, agitated and synchronized with the rhythm of our chests.

I ran two of my fingers over her entrance before lying down, and without me telling her anything, she took them in her mouth, savoring herself. She did the same when she kissed me again, now lying on top of me.

"I want to keep going like this, Sebastian," she whispered, kissing me again in between. "But neither Carlos nor Hanna can find out."

"That's fine with me, angel. From now on, we're both each other's best kept secret."

#formula 1 #sebastian vettel #sv5 #f1 #formula one #sebastian vettel x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #vettel #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x yn #formula one x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one x you #formula 1 one shot #formula one x y/n #formula 1 x yn #formula one one shot #sebastian vettel one shot #sebastian vettel imagine #cheating #Carlos Sainz x reader #Sebastian Vettel smut #f1 smut #f1 fic #f1 x you #smut

[shinskichan]

synopsis: reader is playing the “what if” challenge with them, in which one person suggests a hypothetical scenario and the other responds with another what if.

characters: Mikey, Sanzu, Kakucho, Koko, Ran, and Rindou

notes: fluff, crack, mention of death, profanities, mention of exes, mention of killing, suggestive what-ifs, petnames (babe, love, doll, baby)

It was finally Mikey's day off, and you had been convincing him to do this challenge since last week. He had been hesitant, saying it was nonsense, but you didn't give up until he finally agreed.

MIKEY

"I don't see the benefit of this," he said, leaning on the couch. You teased him, saying, "I just want to fight right after this," to which he side-eyed you, and you both laughed. "Try me," he said, looking you straight in the eye. "Your wish is my command," you said as you chuckled, but he rolled his eyes.

"You know this is so lame, how about we just… make love?" he whispered, and you playfully hit his arm as he chuckled. "Mikey!" you warned him, and he put his hands up, saying he was kidding. You held his hand, which interlocked with yours, as you cleared your throat.

He asked, "Who goes first?" looking at you. "I'll go first," you said, and he nodded as you chuckled.

"What if I am just pretending that I love you because I'm scared of you?" you said, looking at him. You saw how his jaw clenched as he tilted his head, but you just laughed. You could tell he was thinking hard about his response.

"What if every time I tell you I'm working, I'm really having fun with another girl?" he shot back, and your eyes widened in surprise. You admitted that it was a good one, and he just chuckled.

"What if all this time I'm just waiting for you to let go?" you said as you looked at him, and he nodded his head. "What if I just settled with you because I don't have a choice?" he said, and you laughed, saying, "What are you talking about? You've got a lot of choices!" You playfully hit him.

"What if I am secretly meeting with your executives right after visiting you?" you shot back, laughing when his face grew gloomy.

"What if I shot him so that you couldn't do that?" he said, seeming nonchalant about it, which made you laugh as you gently pushed his face. "What if every time I say 'I love you,' it's not you whom I am thinking of?" you teased, looking at him, and he nodded.

"What if I punish you after this? How do you like that?" he asked, grinning, and you said, "What if I don't want to?" You both laughed."Who thought about this stupid challenge? It was you," he said, pinching your nose.

"Be honest, was it half meant?" he asked you, which made you laugh. "What makes you say that?" you asked. "What if you're really pretending that you love me? What if you're just really waiting for me to let you go?" he asked as he threw himself at you, and you quickly hugged him.

"I'm going to kill myself, for real," he said, which made you hit him. "I love you for real, dumbass," you said, and he looked up to you, and you kissed him.

 

SANZU

"You don't have a choice," you said with a grin as you pulled him out of bed. He groaned about wanting to rest, but you persisted. "Come on, let's do this. I promise I'll treat you after," you added coaxingly, and he finally relented and sat down.

"Don't take this seriously! This is just a what-if," you warned him, but you couldn't stop laughing. "Then let's just not do this," he said, but you glared at him, so he just sighed.

"You go first," you said, pointing at him. "This is really stupid," he said as he sighed, but you just laughed. "Go ahead," you said, and it took a while before he thought of something.

"What if whenever I tell you I can't come home, I'm really at another girl's house?" he said, which caught you off guard, and you reluctantly hit his arms, but he just laughed. "What the fuck, Sanzu?" you said as you chuckled.

"Come on, this is what you want, right? It's your turn," he said as he chuckled."What if I am just really forced to love you?" you asked while laughing. "Really? With this face and good body, you'll be forced?" he asked, leaning close to you. You gently pushed his face away while laughing and said, "Stop saying anything, babe. Go on," still laughing.

"What if I am actually making out with your friend?" he said as he laughed out loud. You glared at him, but he just laughed like he had won the challenge.

"What if I still love my ex?" you said with confidence, which made his smile fade away, and you laughed.

"What if I shot his skull right here right now?" he said seriously, and you broke out laughing as you hit him with a pillow.

"Calm down, this is just a 'what if'," you said, still laughing, but he wrapped his arms around your waist and carried you on top of him. "Stop with this bullshit already. It's not funny," he said, and you laughed as you kissed his neck.

 

KAKUCHO

As you both sat at the restaurant, enjoying your meal, you suddenly came up with an idea. "Baby, let's play the 'what if' challenge. Do you know that?" you asked him. He looked surprised, but he nodded. "As in right now?" he asked, still unsure. "Yes, right now," you confirmed with a smile.

"I don't want to," he said as he wiped the edge of your lips with his thumb. You pouted, but he continued, "Come on, you're just looking for a fight." You chuckled. "You think I'm making this an excuse for an argument later on?" you asked, and he nodded.

“You shouldn't get annoyed," you added. "No, you should tell that to yourself," he retorted, making you hit his arm playfully.

But you weren't going to give up that easily. "Come on, I'll go first," you said, and he had no choice but to agree.

"What if I went to the bar last night and hooked up with someone?" you asked, trying not to laugh as you watched his serious expression. "I know you wouldn't do that," he replied, making you elbow his arm.

"Your turn," you prompted. "I can't think of anything," he said with a shrug, and he continued to eat. "Don't be so corny," you teased, glaring at him. "What if I'm getting tired of you?" he said out of nowhere, and you nodded. "Then get some rest," you replied, and you both laughed.

"What if before we even dated, I just planned on making you fall for me and my true purpose was to cause you pain?" you said, trying to stir things up. He just nodded, unfazed. "It's fine then," he said, making you laugh and hit his arm. "What do you mean?" you asked, still laughing. "You're always fighting with me, even when I didn't do anything," he explained. "And I chose to love you, even with the risk of getting hurt," he added seriously. Why are you so serious, bro?" you said, and he glared at you, which made you chuckle.

"What if every time you're not coming home, I'm bringing someone into our house?" he said, trying to make you jealous. You gave him a death glare, and he quickly laughed. "What if I just agreed to date you out of fun? I don't really love you," you said, trying to see his reaction. He just smiled and sipped his drink. "That's good, we have fun together," he said, making you both laugh.

"What if I actually hooked up with the girl you're jealous of?" he said, trying to push your buttons further. You slowly looked at him with piercing eyes, and he quickly said, "Look at your face; I told you I don't want to do this," while laughing. "Fuck you!" you said, playfully pinching his arm.

"What if we just break up?" you said suddenly, trying to end the game. He quickly gave you a hug while still laughing hard. "No way, I can't live without you," he said, making you smile and hug him back.

 

KOKONOI

"Are you down?" you asked him as you gently took out all the food from the paper bag after your drive-thru. He nodded quickly. "I am down. Do you want me to go first?" he said confidently, and you both laughed. "Go ahead, I'm giving you the right," you said, and he started to think.

He began, "What if I regret that I met you?" and smiled as he looked at you. You hit him with the paper bag and jokingly said, "I know that fucker."

"Look at you, it's just starting, and you're already annoyed. You're the one who suggested it," he said as he took a sip of his soda.

"What if I'm secretly dating one of your friends?" you said, and he chuckled. "Who?" he asked, which made you both laugh. "Stop asking. It's just a what-if," you said as you smiled, enjoying his reaction.

He cleared his throat and thought for a moment. "What if I just loved you out of pity?" he said teasingly as he looked at you, and you smiled downward. "What's with that look?" he asked, putting his hand on your thigh as he laughed. "Really?" you sadly asked, which made you both laugh.

"What if my ex is asking me for a comeback, and I'm really having thoughts about it?" you said, which made him stunned and unable to even take a bite of his burger, which made you chuckle. "I knew it," he said, and you broke out laughing. "What do you mean you knew it?" you asked as you hit his arm, unable to prevent yourself from laughing.

"What if I just decided to court you because of a bet with my friends?" he said, and you glared at him. "I don't want this anymore," you said, which made him laugh as he scooped his ice cream. "What if I'm just staying with you because of your money?" you said, to which he replied with a shrug. You pinched his arm, making him groan.

"What if I got another girl pregnant?" he said, and your eyes widened in shock at what he just said, and he silently enjoyed your reaction. "Try me, Hajime," you said, and he laughed, but later on, he pulled your wrist and gave you a kiss. "Not gonna happen," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"What if I wanted to marry you right now?" he said, and you looked at him, trying to prevent yourself from blushing. "What if I don't want you to be my husband?!" you shouted, which made him laugh even more. "I love you, dumbass," he said, kissing your hand.

 

RAN

You and Ran were both sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phones in silence, when he suddenly spoke up. "Let's play the 'what if' challenge," he suggested. You pretended not to hear him, so he playfully slapped your legs. "Come on, it'll be fun," he urged. However, you were still upset with him from a previous argument and didn't feel like playing. "I don't want to," you replied, giving him a stern look. "You still have some issues to work out with me!" you added, feeling frustrated that he hadn't made up with you after the argument. He laughed and teased you, saying, "You're still mad at me, huh?” 

"Come on, you go first," but you shook your head and insisted, "No, you thought of it, so you go first," rolling your eyes. He smirked and commented, "You look so hot when you do that." You glared at him, but he just chuckled.

He started the game by asking, "What if... what if I'm in this position because I'm flirting with someone?" he asked, his eyes still on his phone. You looked at him seriously and gently kicked his abdomen, which made him laugh. "Really, Ran? Flirting with someone right in front of my face?" you asked, trying to reach for his phone, but he hid it. You were still annoyed with him for not making up after the argument, and here he is still annoying you further. "I'm just kidding, doll," he said, stealing a kiss from your lips. You wiped it off quickly, feeling irritated, and he giggled.

"What if I'm just toying with you? What if you're just a past time?" he continued. You smiled, annoyed all over your face, which made him laugh even more. "What if the reason I went out last night was because I'm meeting someone and it's more than just a meeting?" you shot back. He nodded his head, amused by what you said, and you both laughed. "What now, huh?" you teased him, and he chuckled.

"What if I'm just using you to get over my ex?" he said, teasingly looking at you. You were clearly angry and threw every pillow within reach at him, but he just laughed, enjoying your reaction. "You fucker!" you exclaimed, clearly annoyed. "My blood is really boiling for you. What if I choke you to death?" you threatened, jumping on him. He was out of breath from laughing too hard. "Stop it, doll," he said, stopping your hands from gently choking him as he caught his breath.

"What if all this time you're just a third party, and my ex is the one I am with?" he asked. You pulled his hair out of anger, but he just laughed as if it was nothing. "What if I bury you alive?"

"What if you woke up tomorrow and you were already inside a coffin?" you shouted, and he burst out laughing on the floor, clearly happy with your reactions.

 

RINDOU

"Babe, let's do the 'what if' challenge," you said to Rindou, who was almost finished washing the dishes. He quickly shook his head. "Come onnnn, it looks fun," you said as you giggled. "I don't want to," he said as he dried his hands.

"Why not? Come on," you said, trying to convince him. "I don't want to fight after, love. I know you," he said, looking at you seriously, and you laughed. "Promise, I won't," you said as you raised your right hand open, making a promise, but he walked out.

"Come on, Rindou! Or else!" you threatened, which made him turn to look at you. "See?" he sarcastically said, which made you laugh. "Come on, let's do it," you said as you dragged him into the room. "We are not allowed to get hurt," you said, and he ran his palm across his face. "Let's just not do it, it's not a good idea," he said, but in the end, you still won.

"Game," you said, and he sighed. "Ladies first," he said as he held your hand and started playing with it. "What if I don't really love you and I just see you as my best friend?" you said while smiling, and he slowly nodded, pretending it didn't hurt him.

"What if I'm actually in a relationship with your best friend?" you gasped, and he laughed as he held your hands tightly. "You're not allowed to get hurt," he reminded you, and you rolled your eyes. "I am not," you defended as you thought of another one.

"What if I still haven't moved on from my ex and you are just a rebound?" you rebutted with confidence, which made him put his fist on his mouth while smiling, clearly annoyed.

"What if every time I asked for permission to go DJing, that's not really what I am doing, and I'm just flirting with other girls?" he said, and you tilted your head as you hit his arms, and he laughed.

"See, I'm sure you're going to get mad at me after this," he said as he ran his hand through your thigh. "What if I actually cheated, but I'm scared to tell you the truth?" you asked, and with that, he hit you with a pillow, which made you break out in laughter.

"What? Does it hurt?" you teased, but he just looked at you while chuckling, still unable to believe what you just said. "It hurts," he confessed, which made you laugh.

"What if this is the last time you'll laugh like that?" he said, which made you laugh harder. "What if I don't really love you and the one that I love is your brother?" you said as you laughed silently, and his face became gloomy.

"That's it, I'm done," he said as he stood up. You followed him while dying of laughter. "Babe, I'm sorry," you said as you chuckled. "Talk to yourself, I don't want to talk to you," he said, sulking, which made you laugh.

© shinskichan

#tokyo revengers #bonten #manjiro sano #sanzu haruchiyo #kakucho #kokonoi hajime #mikey x reader #mikey x you #mikey x y/n #sanzu x reader #sanzu x you #sanzu x y/n #kakucho x reader #kakucho x y/n #kakucho x you #kokonoi x reader #kokonoi x you #kokonoi x y/n

[utilitycaster]

RE: Ruidusborn superstition - It's weird because Matt has had several opportunities to make it about persecution and hasn't. Laura could've made it a stronger point in her backstory with Gelvaan and didn't. This rounding up Ruidusborn and throwing them in jail is a theoretical crime that a bad guy in a cult told them might happen. 

Dealing with the unfair persecution of non Vanguard Ruidusborn in the fallout of this could be interesting to explore, but a) it hasn’t happened yet and b) still entirely the fault of the Vanguard for, ya know, all the crime. I just don’t get why some folks aren’t exploring the actual interesting conflict in front of them (i.e. being tied to something inherently destructive, your parent using you as a justification for her crimes, etc.) and instead make it about some secret twist coming that will totally make Liliana and the Vanguard “correct” actually in order to (I assume?) justify Imogen’s brief consideration of them and dunk on Orym for having the audacity to not be objective about the organization that killed his family.

Hey anon,

This is a very good point re: the actual conflicts present. I know I've been guilty of going hard on Liliana and the thing is I do find her a profoundly compelling and sympathetic villain. I think she was placed in an impossible position by Predathos imbuing her with troubling and at times painful powers; that despite having good intentions with regards to the nature of Ruidus (there is a lot of value in both studying it and in concealing its nature, depending on your perspective) people other than Ludinus were unable to give her answers and so she was easy prey for his cult; and she has since been driven by these motivations so far down the road of the Ruby Vanguard that even when the daughter she has believed herself for so long to be protecting tries to give her an out and asks her why she's doing this, she can't answer but is terrified of leaving. She is very sympathetic. She is very much a villain. And yes, I'll cover Orym in a second.

The following is, by necessity due to the nature of what I want to discuss, going to touch on some real-world politics though mostly in the sense of abstract strategy with very few specific actual positions. I want to note that we are talking about a fictional work here, and while I do have some presumptions regarding the people advocating for the Vanguard, they are just that - presumptions. I will only say that if this is how the people advocating for the Vanguard engage with people in real-world activism (if they partake in that in the first place), this may be a revealing insight into why they are perhaps less than successful.

Every argument in favor of killing the gods ultimately presupposes killing the gods is correct. They are all, ultimately, either tautological (we should kill the gods because they are deserving of death) and assume that the only objective conclusion is "we should kill the gods", therefore anything other than "we should kill the gods" cannot be objective.

I may be repeating myself since I've said this a lot since the last episode but: there as a truly bone-chilling lack of empathy in thestatement that Orym needs to stop bringing up his dead family and get over it and be objective (read: agree with the premise that the gods should be killed). Actually, if you are a person capable of perceiving others as people, you will likely realize that it is cruel and absurd to expect someone to say "this group murdered my family, but because they did so with the correct motivations, I shall stop mentioning it." As you indicated, it's bizarre that Orym is expected to set the wholesale murder - deliberately set up with no hope of resurrection, just to twist the knife - aside, but Imogen is never expected to set aside the (let's face it, extremely tenuous, given that Liliana's been absent for over a quarter-century) feelings about her mother, a person who recruits child soldiers, turned Vax into an orb, and is a general in the death cult that murdered Orym's husband and father. Like, in a real-world scenario, someone in Orym's position very well might have just left over this. Your friends keep failing to consider your trauma? Perhaps it's time to, painful as it may be, find friends who will be sensitive. [I don't want to focus on the shipping or character dynamic aspects with that particularly argument against Orym, but this is a fictional work and I do think another running theme in all sorts of discourse is that you do not need to justify your ships as logical, and when you do, you really do sound like "why doesn't Ross, the largest friend, simply eat all the other friends." There are logical reasons why Orym might not want to talk with, for example, Fearne or Ashton; but also the heart wants what it wants, and again, if you aren't truly ignorant about the way human psychology works you have to acknowledge that.]

Before I move on to other items I want to note I've as of late seen attempts not just to discredit Orym but to pathologize his behavior as self-harming or moral OCD or a failure to get fully over grief (again, an expectation that is not just devoid of empathy but also sets the standard of 'get over grief' as "agrees with me") and not just "hey, this group killed my husband and father in front of me and I understandably will not budge on this particular front. So there's also a growing ableist push, here, because someone doesn't agree with you and will not agree with you and also might want to kiss someone different than whom you want them to kiss.

As of late, the banner of those wronged by the gods has shifted from any of Bells Hells to those of Aeor, and that is a bad sign in a D&D campaign. If you need to set aside the PCs in order to rely on NPCs who have not shown up in the current narrative? You are clinging to a melting iceberg, my man. (More so after invoking FCG as one of the victims of Aeor's demise, rather than someone created to be used for malicious purposes by Aeor; and even more so after they destroyed themself specifically in heroic sacrifice to save the rest of the party from a Vanguard general.). But more seriously, the focus on Aeor feels reminiscent of advocacy for the unborn; or, to take a page from my own personal experiences and move this back into a fandom realm, the way people will frequently more loudly decry antisemitism for depictions of goblins than for, say, the fact that I don't know of an American synagogue that hasn't experienced a bomb threat in the past 10 years. It's very easy to advocate for corpses or fetuses over the living, or for fictional characters over real people who might be less than perfect. Much easier to ensure they never do such inconvenient things as disagree with you or have their own suggestions or be complicated. It hearkens back to some of the conversations I and others had earlier this campaign about a denial of agency because by making characters victims "stripped of choice," (always that phrasing) suddenly they can't do wrong. They make for a shit story, but at least you can feel morally pure about your flavorless cardboard that ultimately means nothing in-world or out. (And if they don't have agency, that means your morality pet can't run away. Or blow themselves up in a stunning rejection of your argument.)

Returning to the Vanguard: an ongoing discussion in activist spaces (and internet ones as well) is that there's a weird ignorance of optics as an important factor in activism. I know it seems frustrating - why can't people just see that this cause is just - but optics have always been a crucial part of any successful movement. I mean, even if you do believe that we need to do more to combat climate change - and I do - my, and most people's response to the environmental activists who keep throwing soup or paint on artwork is "ugh, this again?" I mean, functionally, while the cause is far more just, it's not terribly distinct from the weird-ass He Gets Us ad campaign; most people are going to say "and you're doing this instead of anything helpful...why?" The Vanguard's optics SUCK. Sure, they've fomented some unrest, but it is an unfortunate truth that the vast majority of people will prefer the inherent violence of a stable system that they are used to over violent unrest. For a successful coup or radical change, either you need to strike at the seat of power extremely quickly or you need to show that you are the more, for lack of a better term, civilized option, and the Vanguard has failed utterly in both these. You're going to get a few places like Hearthdell (though, really, how long will that last given that they got rid of the temple without a scrap of help from Ludinus) but you're going to get a lot of places where city dwellers say "ugh, these stupid crystals are so fucking loud, could this motherfucker shut up" and you're also going to get no shortage of places that say "my family member was taken in by this cult" or "these guys murdered my professor". The rightness or wrongness of the Vanguard's politics aside, a lot of people in-world are likely to side with Orym - these people are murderers who disturb the peace and we should stop them. The cause is lost. Is it, in some absolute sense, fair that people will judge you more for how you convey a message than what the message is? No, although if you convey it in rivers of blood, then, perhaps, yes. But it is, fair or not, often true.

Which brings me back to Orym. I think the reason people are stooping so low specifically to malign and discredit Orym is because he brings all of the above uncomfortably to light. He's aligned with Keyleth, who quite frankly until pretty recently was, within the fandom, partly as (understandable) backlash to the hate she received, and partly because she was, if nothing else, always portrayed as someone deeply attuned to the human costs, treated as a morally infallible authority; and she is no friend to the gods yet still believes their demise is far too great a risk to take. Again, thinking of yourself as Exandria's equivalent of the man on the street (Imahara Joe the Plumber?), are you going to listen to "those people killed my husband and father to prove a hypothesis so that they could tether the moon?" or "my mom, who left me when I was two years old and never came back or sent a letter, is one of those people?" And that's assuming Imogen's even going to make that argument, which, as her actions indicate, she's probably not going to. But most of all I think they really don't like that Orym isn't backing down from "That is the blade that killed my father and husband. She is not right." He's kept to this story the entire time, while the positions of others have evolved. And he's telling the truth. Every time he says this, I think anyone who isn't actually a complete black hole of empathy must confront how much of their humanity they are supressing just to make a poorly-argued point about a D&D show and I'd imagine that can't make one feel very good.

I think people are terrified of Orym's conviction, because he has shown, time and time again, that he is not going to be swayed. I don't think, in fact, that he's going to be swayed by seeing Aeor, should that happen, since Aeor was destroyed a thousand years before he, Will, or Derrig were born, and their murders failed to undo that harm in any way. A really good way to turn people away from your cause, even if it's a good one, is killing those they love. And again, it's fine if you see that position as unfair, or ignorant, or even amoral. It's also extremely true. And I think people realize it's true, given that the only defenses I've seen for Liliana have been "well, but she's Imogen's mother" and "well, it's shockingly easy for people to fall into a cult, because this has happened to my family members." Clearly, we agree that people will place personal connections and the pain of those close to them over ideology. Orym's is just really inconvenient for some people, and so he must be discredited.

In the end: the people in the story who at every turn choose manipulation, indoctrination, violence, subjugation, and conquest are saying "This is the way; you just have to trust me." Is it any surprise most people watching the show are saying "No, I don't think I will"?

#answered #Anonymous #long post #critical role

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!

Beginning|| Previous || Next

It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.

As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.

“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”

“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”

Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.

“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”

“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”

Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.

At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.

And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’

So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.

You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.

THAT BEING SAID

You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.

The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.

It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.

“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”

“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.

“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”

“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”

“Trying is the key word there.”

“That’s true enough I suppose.”

The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.

“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”

“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.

“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.

“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”

“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.

“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”

“Yes, quite.”

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, Crowley?”

“You’re my angel. No one else.”

“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”

The shop bell dings.

“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”

When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #good omens fandom #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow lasts forever #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #tumblr fic #poll fic #choose your own adventure #self insert #let's write #we're all in this together #fanatic intervention #part 7 #muriel #maggie #tesco #mugs and fuzzy socks #muriel has an aesthetic #yes they talked #if they made out now you wouldn't have that to look forward to later #ineffable fandom #gomens #go2 #good omens s2

[campingwiththecharmings]

Honey Trap

AN: Fifth fic for @moonknight-events’ MK Bingo! This is probably a little silly (and likely not very well-written) but it was fun to come up with and write so irdc lol 😌 Hope someone other than me enjoys this!

You stumble across Marc while he's camping in a remote part of the woods and he's (understandably) suspicious of you.

(Un-beta’d)

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, you've been warned) Prompt: Hiking Words: 2,427 Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader Warnings: references to death, attempted murder, knives, frottage, please let me know if i missed anything. AO3

——————

Marc doesn’t trust you. 

Your story about wandering off trail and getting lost was plausible, sure, and you looked harmless enough, but he'd been around long enough to know that looks can be deceiving. 

Still, what was he to do? If you really were telling him the truth, you needed help. He couldn’t just let you wander around alone in the dark. What if something happened? What if you got injured, or worse, killed? No, better to assume the risk, to give you the benefit of the doubt. Plus, it certainly made it easier to keep an eye on you. You’d been so grateful, thanking him profusely and promising not to be a bother. He’d waved this off of course, trying to ignore the way his stomach flipped when you smiled at him. 

It’s late now, the moon full and high in the dark night sky. You’re sitting on the other side of the fire (his fire), your jacket zipped to your chin, arms wrapped around your legs as you try to get as close to the flames as you can without burning yourself. He tries not to keep looking at you, at the way the firelight makes you glow, but every time he looks away, his eyes inevitably drift back. There’s something about you, he’s not sure what but, it makes him feel…uneasy. Everything about you seems normal but he just can’t shake the feeling that he’s missing something. His stomach rumbles at this thought and he briefly considers that he might just be hungry. With a sigh, Marc digs into his bag, searching for the rations he’d packed. His eyes meet yours over the fire as he pulls a packet of jerky out and shakes it.  

“Want some?” he asks, holding it out to you. 

You hesitate, eyes dipping to study the nondescript packet in his hand. He swallows thickly as you unconsciously lick your lips. 

“Thanks,” you say finally, smiling as you take the food from him. 

He nods, pulling out another and tearing it open. Marc’s eyes scan the surrounding darkness as the two of you eat, the slight crinkling of the ration packaging replacing the silence. 

“So,” you begin, studying the strip of jerky between your fingers. “You come here often?” 

His lips quirk slightly at the joke but he just shrugs. “Not really, no.” 

You hum, carefully chewing a bite of jerky. “Could’ve fooled me.” 

He meets your gaze, unease settling in his gut. “How do you mean?” 

It’s your turn to shrug now, pulling another strip from your packet “You just seem very…prepared is all.” 

He sniffs in amusement, relaxing slightly. “Yeah well, people do tend to be at least slightly prepared when they plan on camping in the woods.” 

You scoff, swallowing your mouthful of food. “I wasn’t planning on camping though.” 

“Maybe not,” he agrees, taking a sip from his water bottle. “But you clearly had no idea what you were getting yourself into by coming all the way out here. Seriously, who hikes without a map?” 

You snort, shaking your head at yourself. “Valid point. Obviously, I’m an incompetent buffoon.” 

Marc bites back a smile, pulling another piece of jerky from the packet. “Well at least you’re aware of it.” 

“I’m so aware of it,” you laugh, putting your head in your hands.  

He hums, his eyes drifting to you again across the fire, watching as you (presumably) mentally berate yourself for getting into this situation. What would’ve happened had you not run into him? If you had run into someone else? With no supplies, would you even have survived the night? A wave of sympathy washes over him, and he frowns at himself for going soft on you so quickly. 

“What brought you out here, anyway? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

You look up from your hands, eyes tired but bright as you smile somewhat fondly. “My brother.” 

Marc raises an eyebrow. “Your brother?” 

You nod, reaching for your pack. You unzip it and pull out an understated urn. His stomach sinks. 

“Oh,” he croaks, his throat going suddenly dry. “I’m…sorry for your loss.” 

“Thanks,” you whisper, turning your attention to the urn in your hands. “He would’ve liked you, I think. Calling me out for being unprepared and all that. He was always looking out for me.” 

Marc grunts, uncomfortable now at the turn the conversation has taken given what had happened to his own brother. “Sounds like he was a, uh, good guy.” 

You nod, meeting his eyes over the fire again, the soft smile on your lips making his heart skip. “He was.” 

The two of you talk a little more, the topics now lighter and less serious. When you start yawning so often you can barely keep the conversation going though, he decides it’s time for bed. He insists that you take his sleeping bag, knowing your thin jacket isn’t enough to keep you warm until the sunrise. Once you agree to take it, he settles down beside the fire, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his head. Your soft snores meet his ears in no time and he smiles to himself, glad that he was able to help someone without using violence just this once. 

He stares into the fire, watching as the flames dance, as they devour the kindling he’d thrown in earlier, as they burn through the sticks and branches he’d collected. His eyes droop, head bobbing gently as he tries to stay awake, knowing he has to keep an eye on things (on you). He thinks he trusts you, or he wants to at least, but he just can’t seem to shake that feeling. Could he really trust himself though? After everything he’s done, after everything he’s seen? Perhaps it’s you who should be afraid of him. 

His thoughts spiral, taking him in directions both logical and illogical. He lets himself get lost in it, in the scenarios, in the possibilities, each one more unlikely than the next. At some point, he must doze off, though, because the next thing he knows is the weight of a body on top of him with a knife to his throat. 

It’s you. Of course it’s you. 

Damn it, he should’ve known, should’ve listened to that niggling feeling inside him that told him not to trust you. 

It’s dark save for the moonlight—you must’ve doused the fire before making your move on him.  

“I’m sorry about this,” you say, grimacing down at him somewhat apologetically. “You seem nice, and I actually kind of enjoyed talking to you but, unfortunately, I have a job to do.” 

Marc swallows thickly, the action pushing the blade a fraction deeper into his skin. “To kill me, you mean?” 

Your face loses some of its softness as you shake your head at him. “That depends on how cooperative you are.” 

He grunts, saying nothing as he tries to assess just how bad things are for him.  

“See,” you continue, leaning in a little closer, the delicious scent of you invading his nostrils. “I need information.” 

He waits for you to continue, eyes scanning your face for any tells, any flickers he can use to his advantage. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh in disappointment, frowning theatrically.  

“Please, Marc, I don’t wanna have to slice up your pretty face. Just tell me what I need to know and I’ll be on my way.” 

He clenches his teeth at your condescending tone. “What do you wanna know?”  

You smile softly at him and he curses himself for the way his heart skips a little; what the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Tell me about Operation Windstorm.” 

He needs to figure out how to get out of this. He can’t just push you off of him, can’t use his legs to flip you over, not with that knife so close to his carotid artery. One wrong move and he’s dead. 

So he stalls. 

Marc snorts, raising an eyebrow at you. “That’s it? Of all the jobs I’ve pulled, that’s the one you wanna know about?” 

You continue to smile down at him, as if you know exactly what he’s doing. “I couldn’t care less, to be perfectly honest but, my client wants to know so, until I get paid, I guess I do too.” 

He grunts, resigned to the fact that he has no choice but to give you exactly what you want in the hopes that you don’t slit his throat afterward. So he tells you every detail of that job, answering every question you have, and just when he’s beginning to think this just might not end well for him, he feels the pressure of your blade ease ever so slightly. 

He wastes no time, taking control and flipping you over, knocking the knife from your hand and causing it to skitter off into the darkness. Marc traps you beneath him, your arms pinned above your head, his knees bracketing your thighs. You’re not giving up without a fight though and wriggling beneath him, trying somehow to use the position to your advantage. You try to lift your leg, brushing your thigh against his groin; the clench of his jaw makes you smirk. 

“Stop it,” he orders, embarrassed by how easy it was for you to rattle him. 

“C’mon, we both know you don’t want that,” you tease, looking down at the slight bulge in his jeans. “Has it been a while, honey?” 

He growls, your breathy chuckles sending shivers up his spine as you continue to move beneath him. “Shut up.” 

“Or what?” you whisper, somehow managing to extricate one of your legs and curl it over his hip.  

“Or this,” he says through gritted teeth, grinding his erection against your core in an effort to turn the tables, to work you up the way you’re working him up. 

It works, your eyes fluttering, lips parting in a sweet little whimper as he grinds into you slowly, over and over again. He groans when you meet his thrusts (as well as you can anyway given your position), the heat blossoming in his gut. He leans in close, his hands still pinning your arms to the ground as he gets lost in you, in the feel of you, in the way you look beneath him. 

“Oh fuck,” you breathe, panting as every press of his hips sends delightful waves of pleasure through your body. 

Marc hums in agreement, his lip between his teeth as he hovers over you. You want to kiss him, to taste him, to devour him. So you do, pushing yourself up to capture his lips, your tongue claiming his mouth and pulling another groan from him. You arch into him as well as you can, pulling his body even closer with your freed leg as you continue to move together. The friction is delicious, like heaven, and a part of you never wants it to end. You wish you could flip him over again, ride him fast and hard, his strong fingers digging into your hips as you pull him apart and put him back together over and over and— 

Your release slams into you at the thought, a choked moan slipping from between your lips as he keeps moving, prolonging your bliss. Marc watches you as you come, the look in his eyes is greedy as your body shakes, your face contorting into something ethereal, almost otherworldly. When you come back to yourself, you meet his eyes again, your chest heaving slightly as you try to catch your breath. He looks like he wants to eat you alive, the wildness and lust in his eyes visible even in the darkness. You shiver with pleasure, chewing your lip as you let your gaze drag slowly down his body. You wish you could see more of him, his windbreaker doing nothing to compliment his undoubtedly amazing body. 

“Who sent you?” He pants, as if he hadn’t just given you the best orgasm you’ve had in years. 

Your eyes flick back to his at the question, a lazy smile curling the edges of your mouth as you begin to move against him again, silently begging him to come for you. He swallows thickly, his body tensing with every brush of your hips, his fingers clenching and unclenching around your forearms. His eyelashes flutter as he watches you, his mouth slack with pleasure. Then he groans, giving into you, into this, his body curling even more over yours as he buries his face in your neck. He ruts against you, his movements somewhat uncoordinated as he chases his release.  

His body twitches above yours as he comes, his moans muffled slightly by your neck. Just as you’re mourning the fact that you didn’t get to see his face, you notice his hold on you has slackened a bit— enough to turn the tables, you hope. Still dazed from his orgasm, it takes him a moment to realize what you’re doing as you begin to wiggle beneath him, and by the time he does, it’s too late.  

Marc grunts as you push him onto his back and straddle him, your hands pinning his muscular arms to the ground. After everything, you should probably kill him—he’s the type to hold a grudge, the type that’ll try to hunt you down—but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. If nothing else, it’d be a waste of a pretty face. Instead, you kiss him, relishing the taste and feel of him one last time before pulling away to smile down at him. 

“Thanks for the tumble, honey,” you whisper, climbing off of him with a chuckle. 

By the time he comes back to himself, you’re gone and the sun is just beginning to peak over the horizon. Marc groans in frustration, running his hands over his face as he tries to figure out what the hell just happened. He should be pissed, he thinks, for so easily falling into your trap but, somehow, he isn’t. He sniffs a laugh, shaking his head at himself as he moves to get up.  

Later, when he’s packing up his gear (including the sleeping bag he’d let you borrow), he comes across a folded, non-descript piece of paper that he knows must be from you. He unfolds it, his fingers fumbling slightly in his haste. For a moment, he just stares, his eyes tracing the lines and curves of your parting words, words that make his lips quirk in a smile.

See you around.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

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#my fic #moon knight bingo #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #marc spector fanfic #marc spector fic #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfic #marc spector smut #moon knight smut

[sophieinwonderland]

The problem isn’t plurality. The problem is the language around DID from plural communities and even the DID community. People who have DID but are in denial may take much longer to accept the diagnosis and work to better understand themselves because they may not be able to relate to how it’s spoken about in online spaces. Particularly people who do not feel comfortable viewing themselves as multiple identities in one. Although that is the most popular representation in both media and online spaces, more often than not that isn’t actually the lived experience. You just don’t see that representation as much because people with it are much less likely to talk about it due to the shame they have around it. Shame is often a major component of surviving trauma. Shame and dissociation go hand in hand. Nuance and awareness are both so important in these types of conversations. It’s sort of similar to how in the autistic community there’s a major lack of representation from nonverbal autistics, despite them making up at least 25% of the total community. The lack of representation doesn’t mean we can pretend to lack awareness of their existence.

I know you don’t believe you’re causing any harm but I’m sorry to say that you are. Which isn’t to say that no harm isn’t also being done to you. It’s just not such a black and white matter. I’m not speaking on behalf of anti-endos. I agree- it’s stupid to hate on a group of people for how they identify. I’m speaking on behalf of highly traumatized individuals who may be looking for answers and wind up getting lost and more confused.

I’m sorry if my intentions with messaging got lost in translation at all. I have a learning disability that affects my ability to process and organize language.

Thanks for the clarification, and sorry for misunderstanding your earlier post.

So let's address this.

Is this a problem?

A problem with this whole topic is, first, that I think we need to see some statistics.

And preferably recent statistics because I think identity has changed a lot in the last 40 years. Maybe there's a silent majority of people with DID who don't view themselves as multiple identities/people offline and are getting spoken over. But I would want to see evidence of that.

Even if some studies from the 80s or 90s showed that most people with DID didn't view themselves as separate people/identities, the advent of the internet age and ability to find community with others with DID likely impacted the culture around the disorder.

Even if this is the case...

Is this our problem?

End of the day, I'm a tulpa identifying as a tulpa. It seems kind of silly to me to think someone with DID would see me, a tulpa who is also plural, decide that because I'm a plural tulpa and people with DID are plural and they don't relate to me, that they can't have DID.

There are a lot of leaps there and most don't make much sense.

And all while the presentations you say are harmful are just as common in anti-endo spaces. Seriously, look at DID TikTok. Almost all anti-endo, and all presenting the way you say is a problem. And with much larger influence than myself.

So this issue, if it is an issue, isn't because of the inclusive plural community, and would clearly exist without it.

I don't think the plural label has anything to do with it.

Community Comparisons:

One of the main mantras you'll find in the plural community is that if you feel plural, you probably are plural. Every system is valid, no matter how distinct your headmates feel. Terms like "median system" were coined to denote systems who feel in between multiple and singlet, and still fall under the plural umbrella.

Meanwhile, the DID community is rife with fakeclaiming and gatekeeping of anyone who doesn't meet whatever arbitrary criteria armchair psychologists made up. All while, again, exhibiting the same types of traits you point to the plural community for. (And yes, you do say "even the DID community" does that. I just think you're underselling it a bit.)

Hard Truth: There will always be DID systems who won't relate to presentations of DID

DID, while having core traits in the way that there will be other agents or parts that can takeover, and there will be some sort of amnesia (under the DSM) is incredibly diverse in presentation.

Kluft wrote a paper outlining about 20 common presentations of DID he identified back in the 90s.

And it can only be assumed that more presentations have been identified since.

The reality is that not every presentation will be represented. Not everyone will be able to relate to every single person with their disorder. And there are going to be some people with rarer, or at least less popular presentations online or in pop culture, who are going to feel underrepresented.

Personally, I think starting from a place of "if you feel plural, you're plural" is going to benefit far more DID systems than it would harm, giving them space to explore their connections with their headmates regardless of how similar or how distinct those headmates feel.

It doesn't matter if they're people, parts, facets, voices or whatever else they decide to identify them as.

There are a lot of things that we don't relate to the majority of other plurals about. But I think the solution is to normalize being able to identify with something without necessarily having to relate to every experience under the umbrella.

#syscourse #pro endogenic #pro endo #plural #plurality #multiplicity #sysblr #system #systems

[deliciousdefendorinternet]

what are some episode ideas your hoping to see in the next tv show? assuming we do get one.

a few of mine would be.

an episode where JD and Bruce are shown still Butting heads with each other loads in present day annoying the other Bros a lot. and maybe during a Hike out in the woods or something something happens which results in JD and Bruce getting cut off from the others and being lost. leaving them stuck together in the middle of nowhere bickering over the right ways to do things with JD using all his survival skills he picked up but Bruce at first stubbornly refusing to go along with what he says given he doesn't want to admit that following JDs lead might for once be the most logical thing to do in a situation. anyway the episode could lead to them opening up to each other a bit more about their lives after the breakup. Bruce could tell JD about the effect he had on his self confidence and how difficult it actually was for him to learn to relax and not stress over every little thing he did after having him micro manage him for years. and JD could tell him more about his time he spent away from society in the 20+ years basically having no one but Rhonda for company maybe in part because he was too afraid of getting close with people and then ruining things with them like he did with their family. it'd just be good to have a little episode focused on their Rocky dynamic imo.

an episode where Branch is ill and his Brothers try to take care of him. a few other people have had this idea and someone even did a cute fanfic involving Both Kismet and Bro zone fighting over the best way to take care of Branch. but yeah I think the idea simply involving Bro zone coming around one day to find Branch so ill he hasn't left his Bunker and while he acts like its no big deal his Brothers insist on staying with him to look after him. somewhat confusing Branch but he agrees to it since he's too tired to argue with them and over the course of the episode they all lightly bicker and disagree on the right way to take care of him. while also annoying Branch with how much they mess around in his Bunker maybe not putting things back in their right places. I like to imagine this all culminates in Branch getting annoyed with them all and questioning them on what their even doing there and why they're all being so weird. kinda surprising the Brothers as they say looking after someone in the family when their sick is just normal to them. and I like the sad angsty idea of Branch not realising this and being confused by his Brothers behaviour throughout the episode since he's always just dealt with this stuff on his own in the past. kinda making his Brothers a little somber when they Realise this like they knew he'd always been independent but not to this extreme extent that he literally didn't have help even when he needed it.

this isn't really so much an entire episode idea as it just a single plot point I could imagine happening early on. that being at the start of the show Bruce is obviously only just staying in Pop Village for a short night or Two given he has to get back to Vacay. but as a plot point and an easy way to keep all the Brothers in one place for the first season I'd have something happen towards the end of the episode that makes Bruce change his mind and decide to stay in pop village a bit longer after talking it through with Brandi and making sure she'd be fine to cover while he's away. maybe something happens that makes him see things are still pretty complicated between all the brothers and he decides he should stick around a little longer until their in a more stable place.

an episode where same as the popular fan idea Floyd is shown to be claustrophobic and panics after coming out of a small space still having issues from his captivity tho he tries to hide it from other people. but it could be a nice chance for Branch to recognise what's going on with his Brother and try to talk to him about it. tho maybe after some poking and prodding Floyd ends up saying something along the lines of him suddenly having flashbacks or something. feeling like he's right back in that moment feeling helpless and like there's nothing he can do in the face of these towering giants tho Floyd thinks Branch might not understand. and this could be when he tells him exactly how their Grandma died and how helpless he felt witnessing the whole thing as a kid and how he still sometimes is reminded of that day just by ordinary everyday little things. it'd be a kinda cute bonding moment I think.

I've said before I can easily imagine an episode just focusing on Bruce and Branch as well given their vastly opposing personalities. since Bruce tries to be laid back and carefree and of course Branch is so high strung and particular especially tv show Branch. plus Bruce is probably the most Traditionally "" Normal "" out of the Brothers so I could imagine him having problems with crazier Tv Show Branch. like imagine him going over to Vacay to spend more time with Bruce and his kids only for Bruce to be weirded out to see Branch playing a game with the kids involving them having to run around lots tiring themselves out. all so Branch can at the end collect their sweat in his Jars to restock his supply in his Bunker. and when Bruce questions him on what the hell he's doing he says that his kids larger size means their sweat fills up his stocks much much quicker and easier. making it more efficient to use their sweat than his own 😂😂😂😂 and tv show Branch just continues to do stuff like this unnerving and annoying Bruce more and more to the point he eventually asks him to leave using the excuse that he's making their customers uncomfortable. and I like to think later on when talking to Brandi she'd kinda chew him out a little over it pointing out they were seen as weird at first simply for being together. I'm not really sure exactly how this episode would end but I like to think Bruce would see that he kinda just wanted Branch to fit a certain more normal idea he had of his brother. making him realise he's somewhat acting like JD used to. anyway those were a few general ideas I had for episodes I'd like to see if we do get a third show what about you what sorta episode stories would you like to see?

#trolls #trolls branch #trolls brozone #dreamworks trolls #branch trolls #trolls band together #branch #trolls dreamworks #brozone #trolls 3 #trolls third tv show #trolls tbgo #trolls the beat goes on #trollstopia

[xoxo-sarah]

Could you write something where you are new and in almost all of robins classes, but the more you get to know each other, the more you hang out. She starts to think maybe your friendship is more than what she thought it was, like shes feeling something she knows that you shouldnt feel for a friend

Torture

↝a/n: thank you for requesting. 🩷 This is kinda cute (but rushed)

↝pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!reader

↝warning: not proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Buckley, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 4.24.24

In a bustling hallway of Hawkins High, you nervously navigate your first day, feeling lost among the sea of unfamiliar faces. Until a sweet voice calls out.

"You look lost. Need a hand?"

Looking up, you didn't know what to say at first. She was the first person to talk to you, even with all the kids around you. No one paid you the time of day, too caught up in their own highschool drama.

The girl offers a smile, pointing towards the paper with your classes. You nervously chuckle, handing the paper over. She quickly glanced at it, before dragging you to the first class, which you so happened to have together.

She was nice and funny. It was easy to get along with her. When she wasn't talking about the newest thing or telling you about the school and people in it, she was listening to you and your story of how you ended up in Hawkins. She listened. Something not many teenagers do.

It didn't take long for you two to become close. You walked together in the halls, did homework together, went over to each other's houses, called after school, kept each other updated on the drama that happened in the classes you don't have together. It was amazing to have someone to talk to after moving to a new town.

It was torture for Robin.

Don't get her wrong, she adored you. Maybe even a little too much.

She started off seeing you as a friend. You were nice and funny. But apparently that's her type. She started noticing how you put your hair behind your ear as you smiled, the creases next to your lips as you smile- how your eyes crinkle as well. She loved the color red on you. She wanted to spend every moment with you.

It was unhealthy, she thought. It wouldn't cause anything but trouble. But she wasn't one to just end something. Especially when it meant so much to not only her, but you. Was she just supposed to drop you one day? Leave you alone in the sea of sharks? She wasn't that type of person, so she'd have to endure the unspoken rejection.

"That doesn't make sense." Robin watched your eyebrows furrow, not noticing her lips lightly pull into an amused grin. You were adorable when confused. "Biology is a bitch."

"couldn't agree more." She shut her book, pulling her bag from beside your bed and started putting everything in it.

"what're you doing? I thought we had more to study?" There you were, making it hard for her to just see you as a friend. With your pretty eyes, lips, cheeks.

"I have errands to run. Sorry." She stood, moving to put her backpack on.

"are you going to walk? I drove you here."

Robin stumbled over her words. She forgot about that, even with her standing in your room. There's no way she was going to stay there , inhaling your smell that was on everything. It was torture. "It's not that far of a walk."

You stood, smiling as you walked over to your desk chair, putting your jacket on. "Don't be silly. I need fresh air anyway."

"No."

You paused with one arm in your jacket. "What?"

She sighed, looking up at your ceiling. "I just...I just need some time away from you." Ouch. She could've worded that better. Didn't stop it from being true.

"oh-yeah...yeah of course." Your jacket fell from your arm, landing back in the seat of the chair. "It is a long walk though. I can get my mom to take you home."

Robin sighed, "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Care so much."

You walked over to your bed and slumped down on it, looking at her confused. "Because you're my friend? I'm supposed to care."

She nodded slowly, biting her lip. "Why do you have to? You make it so much harder than it has to be."

"I'm confused, Robin."

"I shouldn't feel this way about you."

It was quiet for a moment, until you broke it with a whisper. "What way?"

Llike I like you." Robin managed to spit out, instantly regretting it as your face dropped.

"Robin..."

She was quick to make her way to your door, grabbing the handle. "I'm just going to go-"

"You don't have to. We can talk this out-please don't go."

"I made things awkward."

"No you didn't."

She felt a hand on her elbow, too scared to turn around. You were right there, with her secret just aired out. Were you going to laugh at her? Spread it around school? She knew you weren't the type, but you can't be too sure.

"I like you too, Robin."

"Really?" She hated how fast she asked, but didn't care when she met your eyes. You offered her a sweet smile, eyes crinkling and all.

"Yeah, I didn't know if it was romantic feelings or not. But after Tonight, I kind of got my answer. I really, really like you."

"In that case," he backpack slid to the floor, her arms going around you. "I don't have errands."

"Good," you grabbed her hand, turning and dragging her back towards your bed and the open book that laid on your covers. "I still need to help with biology."

"Why must you torture me?"

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

#xoxo-sarah 🩷 #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley angst #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst #📼

[drunkenskunk]

Welcome to another Drunk Skunk™ rant!

So.

I've had some time to sit and stew on the Fallout show, and I think I've finally figured out exactly what I want to say. Because kids? I got Opinions™ about this fucking series. I sincerely wish I didn't have all these Opinions™, because that would almost certainly cause me significantly less stress.

But here we are.

The Fallout show annoys me, but not for the reasons you think.

Let's get the good out of the way first. And by "good" I mean "damning with faint praise."

The Fallout show, as a piece of entertainment and experienced in a vacuum with no prior knowledge or context of the rest of the series or any of the other video games, is... fine. It's an entertaining television show. It's not great, but it's not terrible. It's okay.

The best part of the show is, unquestionably, Walton Goggins. Which is probably the coldest take here, everyone agrees that he's fantastic in this. And it's true! Granted, he doesn't look nearly as gnarly as he should, as the makeup is really giving Ryan Reynolds Deadpool Hugo Weaving Red Skull vibes, but I can honestly give that a pass. He steals every single scene he's in. He has all the best lines. Plus, all the pre-war flashbacks with him are excellent. That first scene when the bombs drop is fucking harrowing.

SPEAKING OF THE BOMBS!

The big reveal that Vault Tec were the ones to kickstart the apocalypse. My initial gut reaction to that was... Not Great. I didn't like it. In fact, I kinda hated it. I thought it was an answer to a question that nobody asked, because nobody cared, because it was never supposed to matter who shot first. The original point was that the end of the world was the inevitable outcome after so many years of war, so many years of stockpiling nuclear weapons, and so many bad decisions from everyone in positions of power on all sides of the conflict.

But the more I think about Vault Tec being the ones to destroy the world... I dunno, the more I... kinda like it? In a fashion. Sort of. As you can see by the remaining length of this fucking rant, I have Complicated Feelings about this!

See, Fallout has never exactly been subtle with its themes, but the show drops all pretense, and openly embraces a staunchly (and honestly, extremely surprising) anti-capitalist narrative.

The Fallout show pulls a Garth Marenghi unironically, and it honestly... kinda works?

Vault Tec were the ones to drop the bombs because they wanted to recreate the world in their image of a capitalist "paradise" free of any and all government regulation. The inevitable end result of the "great game" of capitalism is the literal end of the world, and the capitalists will do everything they can to destroy any attempts to rebuild any civilization not explicitly under their direct control. Because that's what capitalists do: they pursue an ultimately self-destructive goal that is not, and never was, sustainable, and will destroy everything else in their pursuit of endless, infinite, exponential growth, forever. Nothing else matters except Make Number Line Go Up.

Side note: it is extremely funny to me that Bethesda - a hollow shell of greed and excess who have been releasing the same game with different wallpapers over and over again since Oblivion - and Amazon - which is fucking Amazon - bankrolled a show where the villains are greedy capitalists who explicitly destroyed the world because of fiduciary duty to the shareholders. Like... guys, you do realize you two are Vault Tec in this scenario, right?

Ah well. That's capitalist realism for ya.

Anyway, the more I think about it, the more sense it makes that Vault Tec were the ones to drop the bombs.

HOWEVER.

Maybe this is just me being a cynical, drunken asshole here, but... it feels like this was a decision that was made, not because it was the best way to take the narrative, but instead as a means of enforcing the Status Quo of Bethesda Fallout.

See, the thing I liked about the west coast Fallout games was that it showed a world ravaged by the apocalypse, but it also showed that world beginning to heal. 200 years after The End, and civilization was returning. It was a natural evolution of things, emphasizing the post part of "post-apocalypse." It showed us a world that really sucked a lot of the time... but also gave us a small sliver of hope that, no matter what nightmares existed after The End, things could - and would - get better, so long as we put in the work to make it better. It was a world that showed us that nothing was ever so broken that it couldn't be repaired. We just had to fucking EARN that happy ending.

Bethesda Fallout, on the other hand, is just Wacky Wasteland Adventure Time. They are not interested in showing a world evolving or changing or growing, they just want a blasted hellscape that looks like it was freshly nuked yesterday. Why? Because that's the surface-level Aesthetic of Fallout. That is what is recognizable. And Aesthetic is all they know how to do. That's the mother fucking Brand.

Doing something different would risk changing the Brand, and if that kind of change happens, then it's no longer easily marketable. So they just keep with what's familiar: freshly irradiated hellscapes, caps as currency, makeshift weapons, psychotic raiders with no purpose or goals beyond Fuck You, and more of the fucking Brotherhood of Steel. It's all the stuff we remember, so we can point at the screen and go "I recognize that!" instead of allowing the setting to evolve and creating something new.

And that's what annoys me the most. Because even though Vault Tec destroying the world in 2077 makes a certain amount of sense, it also feels like it only exists as a means of artificially enforcing the status quo of the setting. Which means that nothing will ever matter in Fallout ever again. It doesn't matter what happens, or what changes in the future, or who wins the next ideological conflict between the same factions that keep reappearing over and over again like radroaches. Because whenever something strays too far from the established setting, Vault Tec (or, more accurately, Bethesda) is just going to nuke it again, like what happened to Shady Sands.

And, y'know, Shady Sands getting nuked like that really does rankle. Not because I ever had any attachment to the NCR, but because destroying it in the way that they did just felt so fucking lazy. If they wanted to get rid of the NCR, there were easily half a dozen other things they could've done that would've made far more sense. The NCR was a fantastically corrupt government, making the same mistakes as the same governments that (up until the show) were responsible for destroying the world. California was running out of food and clean drinking water because of gross negligence and mismanagement, public unrest was high because of excessive taxation and the "stop tolls" of corrupt border guards shaking down people, and both the military and bureaucracy of the NCR was spread fucking paper-thin, due to their policies of violent imperialist expansionism trying to take far more territory than they could reasonably hold, far more quickly than they could ever manage.

And did any of that matter? No. Not at all. Pursuing any of those plot threads would've required the writers to actually come up with some new ideas. So, instead, it was destroyed because of a cryogenically frozen Vault Tec middle manager with family problems. It was such a fucking lazy solution to a problem that should never have existed in the first place. It felt like the Fallout equivalent of "Somehow, Palpatine has returned."

That's why this show annoys me so much. Because this show that exists without subtlety or subtext, is telling us, to our face:

Don't hope for a better future, because it will never come. The world of Fallout is a destroyed, irradiated hellscape, entirely devoid of hope, and it will never, ever change, ever again.

Because that's the Fallout Brand, and that's what fucking sells.

#drunk skunk rant #Fallout #fallout show #fallout tv show #fallout show spoilers #it took me three hours to write this #what the hell am I doing with my life

[ricoka]

sometimes I wish you could post an opinion on a fandom blog without inviting a whole witch hunt or being accused of causing drama but alas

#I've not done anything and i won't do anything #it's just something that's annoying?? that you can't say anything without someone doing a bad faith interpretation of it #or projecting it on themselves or getting offended on behalf of a fictional character #the few times i saw someone actually say something slightly controversial all hell broke loose every time #like great that you're passionate but not everything is about you #not everything needs your opinion - especially if you can only give it like a lecture #not everything has malicious intentions #people disagreeing with you have a right to their opinions as well - as long as you respect theirs they should respect yours #the thing is - i don't think I've ever been in a fandom that didn't have to deal with like ship wars or someone doing hate campaigns #of a character or ship - i guess that's just the way it is?? #but here it feels especially tiring because people don't usually disagree on ships #people are literally fighting and hating each other mainly over the same two characters!!! and their different interpretations of them #people disagree over what the right and moral way is to portray and ship those characters #and it creates so much tension because you can't associate with those people because they're doing it wrong #and are acting fucking awful about it #but those people are very exclusionary and if you don't agree with all of their points they don't want to talk to you either #you just float along hoping that you'll find some people who have a similar interpretation and will actually talk to you #it's so weird??? it's so isolating too?? #and it feels like you entered a political landscape in your online fandom space #i will probably delete this and I'm not even sure my thoughts make sense #my thoughts spiralled a bit from thinking how some fan interpretations annoy me into disliking a character hahaha

[cat-downthestreet]

can HSR and HI3 players please just stop with picking on Genshin players already? we all like Hoyoverse, there is literally no reason to trash on the other games to try and get people to play your favorites. if anything you've only made Genshin players avoid HSR and HI3. you've accomplished nothing.

this post is not about the rewards players of each game get, I'm only talking about the Hoyoverse fans who trash on Genshin just because they think the other games are soooo much better and their opinions are better than "those stupid Genshin players'"

seriously, stfu. it's a game. if you don't like it don't bully people who do. and especially don't follow it up with "my favorite game is better" 😐

#hoyoverse #genshin impact #and if i see any reblogs or comments doing the same i will delete them. end of story #if you're one of the people who does this you're the problem. you're actively making the hoyo fans hate each other more by doing this. #just play your game and let people play what they want. it's not your life so it's none of your business #and yeah genshin has shitty rewards #but at least you can play for free and still enjoy the game. #not saying the other hoyo games aren't f2p but genshin is and that's part of why it attracts so many new players. #not just that but since Inazuma was rushed Hoyoverse has been making an effort to make the story better and less rushed. #idc that most patches are filler either. that's literally how it works y'all not every patch is going to be packed with lore #games take time to create and good stories can't be made for a game like Genshin in just three months. #if you don't believe me just look at Inazuma. they rushed that and tried to fit 5 acts worth of story into 3 and it did not go well. #games are passion projects and while i do agree that Hoyo wants your money it's important to remember that every game company is like that. #Genshin is not better or worse storywise just because the company can't make every patch not filler #or because Hoyo wants your money. like that's how it works what did you expect #the point is #the players who play Genshin for the story are having a great time and if you dislike that aspect just don't play it or engage with it. #the writers obviously care about Genshin enough to put massive amounts of effort into making it detail heavy and interesting. #if you think otherwise too bad ig that's not the game's fault #Genshin isn't your thing if you don't like the story. move on. #sorry for the rant #I'm not having such a good time and Hoyolab + the HI3/HSR community are so mean for no reason to Genshin players. #anyways thanks for coming to my ted talk

[todayisafridaynight]

I wanted to write in about my thoughts on Jo as a CSA survivor separately for a couple of reasons:

I already more or less have what I have to say on the topic in order thanks to talks with @starssystem and another friend [<3]

This is a massive tonal shift from anything else I could be discussing

This Is Massive In General For The Love Of God PLEASE Help Me

Obvious CSA CW for anyone else reading; I only discuss statistics, psychology, and the aftereffects seen in survivors here, but it's worth a warning.

With the disclaimers out of the way… I'd mentioned before I've only ever added one thing to Jo's background, and you were right: this is it! To me, there's so much thematic overlap in Jo's narrative with the experience of surviving CSA it's worth it to examine his character through the lens of that being the case. Of course, there are clearly-stated reasons for it all that Aren't That, but…

It's the pervasive guilt and shame, the lifelong secret that becomes too unbearable not to tell, the faulty coping mechanisms aimed at burying the trauma without having to face it, the reluctance to be sincere [vulnerable] and the lies and half-truths used to maintain the facade of invulnerability, the pursuit of power and control and the knee-jerk anger response when it's threatened, the pursuit of mastery over his body and the indifference to what happens to it. And the way a lot of it really does stem from a deeply traumatic childhood sexual experience from before either he or Ikumi understood what they were getting into, from before they could give informed consent.

Statistically, the further below the average age someone is for their first time, the likelihood of [at best] having been introduced to sex inappropriately and [at worst] having been abused at the time or earlier rises exponentially. Jo was 15 when Masato was conceived--possibly 14, since he was saying he "met" Arakawa at 15, and by then Masato was already born. To put this into perspective, since what ages register as concerning is largely cultural, the average age in the US and UK is 16-18. But in Japan, it's over 19.

To a Westerner [or even a heavily Westernized non-Westerner], having a kid at 15 is unfortunate, but not untenable; you've seen it on TV, you might know people like that, you might even be that kid or that parent. But in Jo's case, with him being 4 or 5 years younger than average, it's like if someone told you they had their first time--had a /kid/--at 13 or under. That's the equivalent discrepancy. That /is/ concerning, to me.

It's also something that's linked to negative outcomes in adulthood, partly because of the likelihood of forming bonds with poorly-adjusted peers. Jo specifically states he and Ikumi were only together because others who came from backgrounds like his own were all he had back then. [As an aside, it's interesting to see him instinctively seek out a relationship where his pain would be understood without having to say anything--or one where he could assume it would, at any rate.]

When it comes to his relationship with Ikumi, I've always felt there was this "adult dynamic" between them--in the sense it feels like one that'd be more fitting for adults to get into than a couple of teens. It was, based on his wording, a primarily physical relationship neither of them expected to last even if they were living together. To me, it's one thing if you're fully convinced you're in love or you're experimenting or whatever and that results in an unplanned pregnancy, but it's another thing entirely to have such a bleak yet objective outlook on your relationship so young.

And it didn't have to be that way. He could've been just like Arakawa, head-over-heels in love with this girl who was The Only Good Thing He Had Going, or something like that. But the sheer contrast between how Arakawa was crazy about Akane and never forgot about her for the rest of his life, while Jo more-or-less-clearly didn't have feelings for Ikumi and can't bring himself to remember her name after living with her for at least a year and experiencing life-changing events with her…

It's notable to me that Arakawa maintains an interest in women while nearly every in-character interpretation I've seen makes Jo averse to women. Obviously, we don't really know that; it's probably just based on his general attitudes, his contrast with Arakawa, and maybe his immunity to Charm. But I think there's a reason a lot of people pick up on it and tie it to trauma rather than/in addition to a lack of interest in women.

I've talked about this through the lens of comphet already [and Jo being gay or ace or both would present other difficulties], but I can't overstate how notable it is on its own. We see Jo's response to traumatic events, and it's to become preoccupied with them, to investigate further if he has any leads. That's why he remembers every minute detail of the night Masato was born and the time he saw Arakawa attempt to comfort Masato when he was crying and hitting himself. I think it's also why he gets as far as he does when looking into Arakawa's death, and why he entrusts the search to Ichi. He never seems to manage to block them out, even if that's what he'd rather do--even if that's what he thinks he's doing.

So if he "[doesn't] even remember" the name of the mother of his child, I get the feeling there's something more going on. Like I've [probably] said in the past, Jo genuinely sounds traumatized by the relationship as a whole. More than anything else he's been through, and he's been through a lot. It's often the case that CSA survivors who are also survivors of other trauma view it as worse than anything else that happened to them.

And that's not to implicate Ikumi at all, I don't think it's a case of COCSA--everything I've said holds just as true for her, and she had to suffer the additional trauma of an unwanted pregnancy and childbirth, at that. Rather, I think it would make sense for something like CSA, which often incontrovertibly reconfigures one's relationship with sex and love, to be a factor in why they rushed into a something physical before they were mature enough to handle it.

Some victims end up having perfectly healthy experiences, some victims end up avoiding them, some victims end up re-victimized, and some victims end up with a mixed bag--there's a lot of variation. But some victims do end up having relationships like this and making mistakes like this, because that's all they know, or because they want to heal but don't [or don't know how to] go about it in a healthy way, at a healthy pace. And I definitely think if you recognize that's what the basis of your relationship was, that it all comes back to something you'd rather forget, it'd make sense to want to forget the relationship as a whole.

To that end, it's possible to come away from a relationship traumatized even if no one did anything wrong. I've [probably] talked about how the way Jo comforts her at the station feels like he's doing it for her sake and pushing his own feelings down, but neither of them is really buying it. If that's a pattern in their relationship, perhaps he wouldn't have been able to communicate if maybe what they were doing was dredging up bad memories, if he wanted to stop but didn't think she did. So to go through with it, then get the news months later…

Either way, the fact Ikumi couldn't bring herself to tell him she was pregnant until nothing could be done would, for Jo, invariably cement the feeling he has no control over what happens around him. I think the sense of powerlessness he felt is why he blew up at her when she told him, because it's really the only time we see him lash out like that at her. At the park, he objects to going back for Masato, sure, but he's passive. And I think that unbroken pattern of powerlessness in his life [which CSA would only compound on] is why he's so reactionary, why he's so emotionally dysregulated, why he expresses his rage through what basically amounts to power-tripping.

But I do think Jo does have a great deal of awareness. A lot of his wording when he's telling Ichi about it borders on poetic, or at the very least candid and effective. That requires both prior reflection and a command of language. I think there's a lot he understands deep down, at least after sitting with it for long enough, but he isn't capable of voicing--or doesn't know how to voice--what's on his mind, most of the time.

So when he joins the Arakawa Family, when he rises the ranks and has that control back, his control has to be near-absolute. If it's undermined in any way--such as, for example, a certain someone failing to answer a call within two rings--he loses it. On the other side of the coin, I do feel a lot of why his devotion and gratitude towards Arakawa goes to the extent it does, why he's so comfortable with him, is because Arakawa gave him the safety of the Arakawa Family, gave him back his autonomy, gave him the environment--and treated him with enough humanity to give him the reason--to learn to regulate himself, to better himself.

And Arakawa /gets/ trauma. He really does. Aside from his own abusive background, literally the only time the word trauma comes out of any character's mouth in this series, it's Arakawa's. It comes back to Jo saying others who came from backgrounds like his own were all he had; that never changed, did it?

Lastly, For Funsies [<- LIE. COMPLETE LIE. TURN BACK NOW] I wanted to go through the items on this [CSA] Survivors' Aftereffects Checklist I could check off with near-certainty. 19/34, by the way, give or take. Now, as I said at the beginning, there are existing concrete reasons for why he has many of these experiences… but it's like the trans allegory with Masato, To Me… If I can check off over half the list based on a very limited backstory and an hour of screen time total, that's indicative of a notable overlap… TO ME…

Note that the book this list is from was published in 1990 and focuses on women's experiences. It was a huge step forward in giving survivors a voice back when a lot of existing research indicated CSA had neutral or even positive effects on children, but it's definitely a product of its time. With that out of the way…

Wearing a lot of clothing, even in summer […]

To be fair, most male characters in RGG are fully-covered and have near-unchanging designs, and it's winter in both 2000/2001 and presumably 2019, but… when it comes to Jo, it feels a little different.

He does have Some Heavage in his twenties [although the necklace takes the attention off of his actual chest], but as time goes on, he shows less and less skin and adds more and more layers. When he has the gloves on, it leaves no skin exposed at all, and there's this direct symbolic correlation with secrecy that isn't there for other characters. And if you're wearing three layers of leather [or even one], you can neither feel what you're touching nor feel anything touch you.

Pure Speculation, but I just can't really see him underdressed for any occasion… That's why his fit in Day with the Sun is funny as hell but also… yeah…

As a behavior, if it's rooted in anything, it's probably rooted in having to hide signs of physical abuse, of course--but then he kind of already had an excuse, with how he was constantly getting into fights. I guess it depends on the specifics, but I think it's interesting to consider this as one way CSA victims attempt to regain control of their bodies, avoiding emotional discomfort at the cost of physical discomfort.

Self-destructiveness

It's nothing super overt, but I see this most clearly represented in his second boss fight in particular; his willingness to wield a blade bare-handed while using enough force he could very well render his hand useless. I think it's potentially also evident in how he has severe cataracts he chooses to ignore and allow to worsen, despite having the reasons and resources to undergo surgery to restore his vision. In doing so, he literally and figuratively blinds himself to so much.

I also kind of think the assassination of Hoshino/the anonymous call and The Eye Scene are examples of self-sabotage. I mean, he literally was sabotaging himself in the former, but it's also the specific way he feels the need to be physically taken down in order to be stopped--possibly a holdover from RGGJo, who's only too happy to be beaten into a coma.

I don't know… It's hard to pinpoint, but I feel like he would be averse to most of the more "obvious" self-destructive behaviors--especially when he has people in his life who might notice and worry, like Ikumi and Arakawa. That and because many of them are addictive. He's seen what that's done to his father, and he's also developed this incredibly rigid sense of discipline he can't maintain if he doesn't have a clear head.

From how he talks about himself [as having lost his humanity and lived a half-assed life], I definitely think he's at the very least unkind to himself, but I also think he does externalize it by provoking others to harm him [in the case of physical fights] and reject him. Like he needs some kind of proxy perpetrator. For some abuse victims, this specific manifestation of self-destructive behavior is a way to regain control--whether or not you "deserved it" back then, you do now, as a direct, logical result of your actions.

Need to be invisible, perfect, or perfectly bad

I think each of these needs manifests in different ways for Jo. The need to be invisible can be seen with authority figures (mainly Aoki, but also Arakawa in The Yubitsume Scene, a little; how drastically he pulls back and tries to act "normal")--this relates to what you were talking about with being reluctant to intrude or take up space. If you fall under the radar, maybe you won't get hurt.

The need to be perfect can be seen in his seemingly "impossible" standards, I would say. Of course, because we see things from Ichiban's perspective, we tend to see them as unfair and often arbitrary demands. But they aren't arbitrary to Jo, are they? They're standards he holds himself to through and through. If you're good, maybe you won't get hurt.

The need to be perfectly bad can be seen in and relates to much of what I discussed under self-destructiveness [The Eye Scene and the way he antagonizes Ichiban specifically by making himself out to be worse than he is]. If you must get hurt, it can at least "make sense"--be "deserved."

Suicidal thoughts, attempts, obsession (including "passive suicide")

Obviously he's not like… Mine Levels Of Overtly And Consistently Suicidal, and he doesn't attempt suicide himself, but at the same time, I have to note his total ambivalence towards Aoki seeing him as a "bullet" (a kind of hitman sent on suicide missions). He agreed to what he himself viewed as a suicide mission and he didn't care what would happen to him afterward, as he says to Joon-gi, Zhao, and Adachi.

Aside from that, I certainly feel he's at least had passive thoughts like wanting to disappear or wishing he'd never been born. Y'know. Nothing concrete, but reflective of his mental state, and just as detrimental to dwell on long-term.

I think there's a sort of childishness [for lack of a better word] to thoughts like these [in that they're impossible], but also a level of maturity in that it probably doesn't escalate to something more actionable because he understands he has responsibilities he can't abandon. I think if he was ever seriously suicidal, it would be at the points of his life where he really didn't have any responsibility to anyone, like between Ikumi leaving and him joining the family, or after he was arrested.

Depression (sometimes paralyzing) […]

I'm trying not to over explain going forward because I Have BEEN Overexplaining It Is SUCH A Disaster… he's depressed If You Have Eyes And/Or Ears… I'll leave it at that…

Anger issues; inability to recognize, own, or express anger; constant anger […]

Lol

Rigid control of one's thought process; humorlessness or extreme solemnity

Relates back to what I was saying about how disciplined he is [and expects everyone else to be], but in general, he's incredibly, incredibly serious and focused. I don't think he's /entirely/ humorless [but then again, very few people are]; I just think his specific sense of humor is. Like. What Is Your Problem [I Know What Your Problem Is I Have Been Discussing It In EXCRUCIATING Detail But What The Fuck Is Your Problem]

Trust issues; inability to trust (trust is not safe); total trust; trusting indiscriminately

That's why he was planning on taking his secret to the grave, isn't it? It was only when faced with the realization it would soon be too late to say anything that he was able to tell Ichiban. He could've trusted Arakawa, should've been able to, but… in his mind he never could.

This book [and this checklist] is about "incest" actually, but it redefines "incest" to mean any instance of CSA perpetrated by any individual the victim trusts or has an expectation of being able to implicitly trust. Which… is most CSA as we understand it today, so I've edited some parts to just say that.

Anyway, I've never given much thought to the specifics of what Jo might've experienced--who did it, what happened, how long it went on, etc.--so there's no conclusion I can draw here [and elsewhere, I'm sure]… but even without that, to grow up unable to trust the one person who should be in his corner, his father, and to have his trust betrayed by Ikumi, it's no surprise Jo ended up like this either way. So… I'm happy he had the courage to tell Ichi, in the end.

High risk taking ("daring the fates"); inability to take risks

I think these are supposed to be mutually exclusive, but to me, Hoshino's assassination and Arakawa's assassination represent both sides of the coin, although they're not the only examples. There are risks Jo won't think twice about taking and risks that paralyze him.

Boundary issues; control, power, territoriality issues; fear of losing control; obsessive/compulsive behaviors (attempts to control things that don't matter, just to control something)

Lol…

Guilt, shame; low self-esteem, feeling worthless; high appreciation of small favors by others

Lmao Even…

Feeling demand to "produce and be loved"; instinctively knowing and doing what the other person needs or wants; relationships mean big tradeoffs (love was taken, not given)

I actually think this encapsulates a lot of what I've been saying about his work ethic, his ideas of discipline, and his relationship with Ikumi, but I also think it's why Masato took a liking to him. His attentiveness. It ties back into wanting to be perfect; when you're abused--especially long-term--you become attuned to observing and responding to any shifts in mood or tone. This is another area where I can't draw any conclusions relevant to my point, but it does certainly relate to his father's abuse, at any rate.

Abandonment issues

Kind of contentious… The anticipation of being abandoned by or losing someone he cares about appears to be worse than the actual experience. He's fine with Ikumi leaving him, and he's… not Fine With, but able to come to terms with Arakawa's death and Aoki's abandonment of him. At the same time, he really does try to make Ikumi's stay in his life comfortable, and he spends almost forty years doing his damnedest to keep his family together, whatever the cost. If I were to extrapolate from RGGJo, though, /he/ does have an obsessive, unhealthy attachment to Arakawa.

Blocking out some period of early years (especially 1–12); or a specific person or place

Ikumiiiiii that's what I'm SAYINGGGG

Feeling of carrying an awful secret; urge to tell, fear of its being revealed; certainty no one will listen; being generally secretive […]

Rofl Perhaps…

Denial; […] repression of memories; pretending; minimizing ("it wasn't that bad") […]

He admits to it himself. Not much else to say. Though I don't think he necessarily minimizes what he's been through by dismissing how bad it was; rather, he tends to overestimate his ability to move past it.

Pattern of ambivalent or intensely conflictive relationships (intimacy is a problem; also focus shifted from [CSA] issues)

Also kind of contentious… we don't see a pattern of romantic relationships, as I assume the author meant here, but at the same time, the romantic relationship and non-romantic relationships we do see fit this pattern. I guess I'd say I definitely think intimacy /would/ be a problem, and he /wouldn't/ be ready to address his issues.

Limited tolerance for happiness; active withdrawal from happiness, reluctance to trust happiness ("ice=thin")

The quote that prompted this ask in the first place. It's sort of connected to the point about humorlessness and extreme solemnity; if that was the "what," this is the "why." He doesn't know how to relax ["holidays don't exist" and all], he doesn't have much to be happy about, but even rarer is the occasion where he doesn't feel too conflicted in the moment to be able to enjoy himself. That's just how I see him.

[…] verbal hypervigilance (careful monitoring of one's words); quiet-voiced, especially when needing to be heard

EXACTLY what I was talking about in this ask, so I'm leaving that one up to past me…

......

... That's It That's The Essay I'm going to hibernate until Infinite Wealth comes out and somehow refutes my points but UNTIL THEN. Farewell, take care, and once more, don't worry too much about matching my energy… Like I Said if I were the one receiving this ask I'd just delete my blog, so… I'll just be happy to know you read it :] If That lmao

ok i read it :) 👁️👁️ READMYTAGSTHERESMORETHEREIPROMISE

#long post #cw csa #doublin up to add cw warnins in the tags just in case <3 lemme know if i should throw more tags down here..... im bad at cw tags.... #i forget my bookmark tag for asks from you i stg if i cant find this ask in the future im kmsing (in minecraft) immediately #snap chats #THE SNORT I MADE AT THE DEADPAN 'LOL'☠️ maybe i SHOULDVE put text In The Main Text i have A Lot of Thoughts.. #im leavin the main text empty since. ngl i was just gonna compare/contrast to myself again... and say a lot of what weve said b4.. #UNFORTUNATELY a lot of the things listed here uhmmmm Hm <3 Uh Oh <3 i do understand. Dare I Say personally. just a bit #I DO HAVE TO DISCLAIM ive never been a survivor of THOSE circumstances or really. any abuse tbh- brain just sucks and im a baby #and i cant say no BUT ANYWAY I HAVE REASONS FOR BEIN AN EGOTIST I SWEAR its cause I Somewhat had those exps/i understand them #i can REAAAALLLYY easily see where your points are coming from.... very easily even... like very in-depth.. #even if i didnt cry bout spilled milk every other day it IS clear to see the signs of abuse in sawashiro once you know them #i've def talked bout those aspects of him whether in tag rambles or in streams or have Attempted to express it via fics #so really the bits to chew on for me esp this time round is the more CSA aspects #tbh when it comes to bein unable to see him intimate or 'underdressed' i agree: incredibly hard for me to imagine #the thing with 'symptoms' of abuse is that they kinda overlap i guess ?? #in that regard it can either be a need to impress or protect himself/needing to be seen less #when it comes to doing certain things because of CSA i could see it as a result of another abuse too. if that makes sense #THOUGH THAT ISNT TO DISCREDIT THE IDEA nono cause there still exists the Now That I Think About It circumstances of masato #even if we look at it through Western Norms(TM) two- essentially homeless- kids having. A Kid is still bizarre #cause again teen pregnancies generally happen as a result of Bein Irresponsible With A Schoolmate- not that other situations cant exist #but thats the most common innit so. def an aspect to consider. All Things Considered. esp jo's self-separation from ikumi #BUT YEAH i feel like if i try to respond im just gonna end up typing up a textbook bout abuse since. UNFORTUNATELY #childhood psychology is my field of interest. and aint no one readin THAT phat thing. esp when ill prob repeat myself or you ☠️ #tbh remindin meself of when i said id write psyche papers on mine and/or jo.... oops 👀💋👀 savin this to steal notes from LOL #i hope yo know i WAS thoroughly intrigued reading this. As Ive Said childhood psyche is Literally My Field and this is v thorough and good #so im always interested in readin bout How X Caused Y in Z... very interesting many MANY things to think about.. ty... #forever cursed to be an idiot cause i really wish i could talk better and say somethin of substance.. ik you said its fine but still.. #im always open to chat bout this more if youd like PLEASE dont think my lack of Main Text is disinterest Im Just Stupid. But We Know That

[freebooter4ever]

The tech guys are hanging out in my office again and chatting about $10,000 week long vacations like this is normal.

#Journal shit #Ah yes the life i gave up to be a grunt 3D generalist working on the lowest of the low entertainment \o/ #A lot of my friends here get mad at my dad for not being supportive #And i myself get frustrated at him for being insulting about my general life failure #But like....he has a point #I dont think he needed to treat me like yesterdays trash over it but #He was right i probably should have taken a programming job #But poor dad he got saddled with a child who is stubborn and tragically not financially motivated like at all #I mean he is the exact same damn way i feel like my dad forgets that it was just me and him for four years there #I saw how he lived without certain influences and he did not give a crap about status or money or fancy things #It wasnt until the rich bitch came along and started making him like...update his furniture every few years because *style* #and making him buy new designer coats every year so he doesn't embarrass himself in front of the other volleyball parents #Im just saying prior to the introduction of Steves Wife to our family these things just didnt exist to us #It does greatly entertain me that Steves Wife is not allowed to come to the ohio farm because everybody agreed that she just... #Could Not Handle The Poor #Anyway thats my dads idea of a vacation going to visit grandma on the farm this summer #And two guesses he and grandma will just sit around reading and doing puzzles and watching tennis #Pretty much exactly what i did when i went on vacation to visit her #I want to ask my dad if you think i am a failure what do you think of yourself i am exactly fucking like you for better or worse #Well i mean except i also did a lot of drawing of hockey players and grandma would lean over my shoulder #Saying things like *he looks like a nice young man* #yes grandma and he also racks up the penalty minutes like you wouldnt believe