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faulix · 7 months

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btw, since people love lying about me on this website:

i have not known lolthia for a year like they claim. i first learned of lolthia about a month ago when i noticed their racist treatment of my friend. it was by chance we learned of their goretober list that had abuse glorification with prompts like medical/drugged torture, kidnapping, and stalking. we were able to see that lolthia had a pattern of writing yandere, murder, and other gross topics with a quick search of their blog. THAT is why i decided to say something and call them out. period

i find it kind of hilarious that you're claiming to have blocked me from servers and discord so you don't have proof. i wonder if you would even know my discord, yknow, the one handle i haven't changed in years. i mean, surely if you have me blocked you would be able to pull that up easy right? let's not forget the fact that you're claiming to know me personally when you cannot even get my pronouns right.

the funny part about this is that barely anyone who rb'ed your callout weren't even your mutuals, with a good amount of people actually adding in the notes how fed up they were with your bullshit. i am not a big enstars blog. i'm not even talking about enstars right now. i am a small blogger with less than 100 followers who ships with the only two minor characters in enstars. a majority of people who have rb'ed your callout are not big enstars bloggers. we are small time selfshippers just trying to have a fun time on tumblr dot com. the only one who is willfully taking themselves out of the fandom or even the circle of enstars selfshippers is you. you willfully create harmful content, you paint yourself as the victim, and you refuse to apologize for multiple things such as your racism and suicide baiting.

i am nice to others because they are not winding up their victim complex to make me look like the bad guy. again, if you have legitimate proof that we were once friends: look at your blocklist (or your server blocklist) and post my handle. i dare you. but then again, you probably couldn't do that considering you don't know what the username is. i think the funniest thing about it is that you can't even be bothered to post the server name, can't even bother to explain how we met (shocker considering i've only been into enstars actively for like barely a year now), it is you saying "well this is clearly my word against his" when you can't even provide the basic proof that you and i ever knew each other. you probably DON'T want me to post the ask where you said that you had finally found me and lamented that we could even be friends now if i would take back my words and be the bigger person. but then again, you kind of admitted that yourself when you said you didn't know who made the callout and even said it could be multiple people because you didn't know, but hey, let's take back that and spin it as a long rooted hate campaign by me. x

btw, when i first made this post, i held off on posting it because i haven't received nonanon asks for this, so i was able to chalk it up to you just trying to send more anons toward me to get me painted as the villain, but since this morning i woke up to you making a callout post about me that was filled with lies and fake screenshots it's about time i speak up. you may have deleted it, but don't worry, i made sure to screenshot everything you said and put it in an imgur album to refresh your memory. right here, don't worry, i took every screenshot word for word so you can remember what you said.

i'm not going to post every single screenshot to this. i think it would be insane behavior to make this post even longer. so let me just some up my feelings:

in your fake screenshots not only did you try to blur out what my name was (probably because these are not actually talking about me, but hey, you thought you could make it work, right?) but you proceed to, once again, continuously use the wrong pronouns for me, which is kind of weird since you're claiming to have known me for a year.

let me reiterate this so you get it through you thick skull: i use he/it pronouns and have been doing so for years now. your callout and screenshots repeatedly uses the wrong pronouns for me. do not even bother claiming you didn't know or that i recently changed them as my past blog and every single friend i'm close with will testify to my pronouns, and i'm absolutely sick of you misgendering and degendering me and my identity. considering you've been sending me several asks you could have easily looked and my pronouns in both my description and pinned, but hey, that's another lie for you, right?

then you post a screenshot of a server main chat, but it's very convenient of you to 1.) not get the server name and 2.) leave out the date you sent it, yknow, the things that you could at least say we shared together. i wonder why you didn't bother to get that information if it was so important. oh wait, i do! it's because you are deliberately lying about me to paint yourself as the victim.

i'm not going to even dissect the lies you weave together because, once again, you are speaking without proof. this is not a case of "my words against his" you are deliberately spreading lies on the grounds that you think no one will fact check you, you tool. again, if i was such a danger to you that i would deliberately make several accounts to surpass your "ban", why would you not post my discord username or the "alt accounts" i made to protect others for safety? why don't you do so now? oh! it's because you don't know them and are lying through your teeth.

i did not send you an ask where i told you that you needed to change your goretober list to get rid of the necrophilia. if i did, how about you post it with my url and call me wrong. not to mention the biggest thing i called you out on was the fact that you were glorifying and romanticizing abuse with drugged torture, kidnapping, and stalking. but sure let's gloss over that part because that would make you look bad!

there is nothing out of context in what you said or did, it is in plain english, several screenshots where you demonized a selfshipper of color because "they were more popular than you", pulled several excuses out of your ass to ship with a 16 year old, and put suicide baits in the main enstars tags, oh but don't worry! in your eyes the enstars fandom deserved it! and you want to paint yourself as innocent? give me a fucking break.

and the absolute gall of you to proclaim you acted like this because of your bpd, which you're still rb'ing sad bpd posts now. the nerve of you to assume i am not neurotypical when i have been struggling with autism and adhd all my life, and my own bpd for the past 14 years since i was diagnosed. it is not an act of ableism to call you out on your disgusting behavior towards people of color and abuse victims. i don't care about your backstory. you know exactly what you are doing and say that you are "exploring dark themes". no one believes you, and no one ever will. and miss me with that "i didn't know the shipper's race" as if you did not see the commissions you were directly complaining about them that shows them as not white very obviously. but hey, what's one more lie for you?

just so you know: every single ask you have sent me i have kept. from where you pretended to be 10 different people, all from your original ask where you think we should "just talk it out" without you taking any accountability, thanking me for the callout, pretending to be anons sticking up for you, and even threatening me with fake evidence that i have been in enstars servers sending death threats. but hey, since i didn't respond to those so you could have ammunition as so you could say i'm stalking you and villainizing you, i guess the next step would be a callout!

i will never be as obsessed with you as you are with me. you are the stupidest person on this planet if you genuinely thought i would not catch wind of what you were doing, from sending me and my friends and mutuals several asks to deliberately lying about me on your own blog. you have sent me over 50 asks in 24 hours, spamming my inbox with anons, but you couldn't even bother changing your typing style. you can't be bothered to tell people to watch out for this discord user because, again, you don't even know who i am. you can spin a web of lies to cover your ass, but barely anyone sees through it, and no amount of anons you send yourself will never convince anyone, especially strangers who has seen your blog. i do not care about how you no longer can look forward to your sick goretober where you glorify the abuse that real people go through. i am a grown adult with a job, school life, friends, pets, and so much more. maybe you could be the same if you shaped up and stopped being on tumblr. touch some grass for once. no one will believe you. i will not delete your callout. you have deliberately done horrible acts and acted like you were being demonized because "the enstars fandom and selfshippers are mean and cliquey", as if people don't see right through what you post without care and how you act. either apologize for what you have willfully done or log off and deactivate. i don't care which. leave me alone, leave my friends and mutuals alone, and grow up.

btw, i figured i would also throw this in the enstars tags so people would know about your horrible act and how you have treated me and demonized me for the past two days for standing up for my friends and the people you've hurt. here's the original callout btw, just in case anyone's new here! i don't care how badly you say this affects you because, again the only person trying to demonize you is you yourself. you lie about every aspect to save your ass and i will not take it. i mean, you tagged my "callout" with enstars tags (despite the fact that i never interact with the enstars fandom and have been talking about brc for the past month) but hey! if you wanna act like a clown i'll treat you like one.

you are an absolute moron if you think 1.) anyone would believe you considering your past behavior and 2.) thought i would just lay over and start crytyping for an apology. you are 20 years old acting like a spoiled toddler who got punished for throwing toys at others. i have more resolve, a backbone, and friends that will always care for me and support me, sorry if you can't relate. fuck you

#leo post #lolthia #ensemble stars #enstars #tw racism #tw suicide #tw suicide bait #ok to rb #if you can help me spread this that'd be great #i am absolutely sick of lolthia's treatment of me and it's important to me that it gets addressed.

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charrfie · 2 months

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howdy laika! for that ask game, spamton with 17, 22, 23, 24?

LONG POST INCOMING PLEASE READY YOURSELF

17. What's a ship for this character you don't hate but it's not your favorite that you're fine with?

See this is a tricky question bc I wouldn't say I truly LIKE any spamton ships really; they all don't work for me for one reason or another. But I'm fine with seeing some* of them regardless because I do view a majority of them as having been a part of his history? Like him and swatch for example. I do not enjoy that ship or actively take part in it but do I think there was something going on there during spamtons big shot years??? Yeah. Do I have a problem with anyone that does enjoy it? No. Kind of a non-answer but it's the best I've got

* = "Some" excluding any addison ships (bc I personally view them as siblings) and also ones that aren't morally gross, obviously

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

OH BOY AM I A FIC READER. For the past month or so as my hyperfixation on spam has ramped up in severity again I've been trying to read every spamton centric fic that's ever been written and wow has it been a journey. So as for what I like!! The easiest answer to this is probably just the general statement of "when people write him how he is in canon." It's surprisingly rare to see him written in such a manner but is always a nice surprise when he is. Not only do I say this in relation to his character as a whole, but his speech patterns too! Which- admittedly- are extremely difficult to get the hang of! So I understand if people aren't super well versed in it and can't write him accurately in that manner. But it's my favorite thing ever when people do.

As for the second part of this question, I think the most glaring thing I hate when it comes to fics about him is just how often he's infantilized. It's SHOCKING how often it happens. Sure sure, he can be silly no doubt about it, but he's a grown man in his 40s and has experienced so much awful shit. Can we knock it off with treating him like he's a newborn or is stupid?? In the same breadth is when people make him excessively kind or sweet right off the bat... like is he not kind of an asshole??? I think its perfectly fine to embrace that fact; him being morally gray adds SO much to his character! Dare I say a lot of people who enjoy his character wouldn't have been intrigued by him without it, so I don't know why that element of his character is so often neglected. Same with his small moments of kindness/humanity; they wouldn't hit as hard if he was like that the whole time. Idk. I'm kind of picky about writing and literature so I have a lot to say sorry lol

23. Favorite picture of this character?

If we're talking about canon art of him only then I will forever be thinking about this gif of him. It makes me crazy. Same with this drawing toby did of him, you people have no idea the damage it does to me

If fan works are included... then this piece by @fatspamton is my absolute favorite picture of spamton EVER and it has been for the longest time, no question about it. It's exactly how I see him in my head and he looks so charming in it T_T <3 All of this artists spamton art (and other art/music too!!) is absolutely worth looking at if you ask me; the way he draws spam is unbelievably perfect, I think about all of its works of him very often :"^]

24. What other character from another fandom of yours reminds you of them?

Going to be honest I've been stumped on this one. I don't think I have any answer?? There's no guy that takes up my brain space which is similar enough to him for me to say in full confidence "yeah x is like him," sorry!

#THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS LOVE U #also to the artist whose works i included:#please let me know if youd like me to take down the actual picture and just leave the link to it up! ^_^#laika answers #should i put this under a read more. is it too long. lmk #long post #you can ask me about spamton and I do not shut up

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auntie-venom · 9 months

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Will of Fate

Chapter Eight

Fandom: Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Story Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Characters: Din Djarin x Original Female Character

Summary: There hasn’t been an unidentified spacecraft in the stratosphere of Arkadia in over two decades, let alone three in one day. Those skilled or mad enough to venture into the Chaos unguided were few and far between. That means no one has ever made it to Arkadia who wasn’t intending to be here.

Until today.

Din Djarin finds an unmapped planet filled with beings who have the same powers as the Child, but know nothing of the force or the Jedi.

Chapter Summary: A trip to the prefecture and the mechanic

Word Count - 3,870

Chapter Warnings: None

Will of Fate Masterlist

Read on Ao3

A/N: Hey y’all, sorry for the long wait. We had family and friends visiting from our home country and hosting duty prevented me from sitting down at the computer and doing edits. I was able to continue writing on my phone so at least progress is being made even if y’all can’t see it yet. I also caught a case of Miguel O’Hara brain rot for a bit, so I was distracted for a few weeks with that.

This chapter is dedicated to the Paris prefecture: fuck you, very much.

Chapter eight

Din can admit with full honesty that his well of patience is very deep. He has waited for bounties to appear while maintaining uncomfortable positions for hours. He has surveilled a safe house for over a week from a tree canopy to confirm a potential lead to a target. He has begrudgingly walked at the child’s pace for two kilometers when the kid refused, by a screeching tantrum, to be carried. But the verbal gymnastics of politics is something he has no patience for and he has to actively fight down the itch for violence.

The sterile prefecture was staffed with dour looking people doing the work with the least amount of effort in order to get through the mass of civilians who were just trying to file the right paperwork. Every person who goes up to a staff member is greeted with pursed lips and a look down the nose full of disdain.

It was even directed towards Eziriel who claimed in the landspeeder that she had dressed to her station with a draping blushing gold jumpsuit and a long caped navy blazer in hopes to possibly make the bureaucratic hoops easier to jump through, but it was apparently a useless tactic. It didn’t matter if the civilian was in rags or glittering jewels, they were a mere nuisance to everyone who worked there.

Din was glad to have the woman on his side, but even her disarming banter and warm smiles could not penetrate the lifeless pointy-eared Arkadian and his protocol droid who were in charge of Din’s case. He watches as Eziriel slips into a more diplomatic facade once she realizes her usual friendly route wasn’t going to get the results she wanted and he observes something he hasn’t seen in her before. True irritation.

Even in the handful of days he’s been around Eziriel, Din feels like he has a pretty good read on her. She is one of those who uses teasing humor to soften reality but also has the tendency to use it as a shield to deflect from true vulnerability. He doesn’t think many notice the deflection since she is always open and honest about any topic, but seeing the pensive look that came across her face when he asked why she was willing to hide things from her government for him, it suddenly registered that he has seen that look on her a handful of times previously: when she admitted to finding the sabotaging item and her worry of it; when he pushed beyond her deflection and to get her to accept his genuine thanks with the Jedi research; and when she admitted to him what the oath truly entailed. All these little vulnerable moments that she tried to hide with witty words finally came into focus once Din recognized the pattern, but the look she is currently presenting is none of the ones he has seen before.

She is expressive to a fault, so when all of her expressions drain from her face he takes note. He focuses in on the new tightness in the corner of her eyes while she forces a saccharine smile when the bored staff member, once again, sends her away with a wave of his hand at her questioning why they needed to fill out a physical form when they’ve already filled out the digital one. He’s seen her disguise her flustering amusement with faux irritation, but there was a true kindling of rage in her eyes when she filled out a handwritten physical copy of the same form she painstakingly filled out the night before. Seeing her fume and grumble under her breath was what caused Din to stop pacing like a caged beast and shift all his focus on observing her for the rest of the visa process.

He didn’t know if he fully liked the blazing fury that radiates off her ever-smiling facade, but admittedly, a dark part of him enjoys that focused rage. He will concede that he did miss the warm mischief her eyes usually held that was lost in favor of icy concentration, but when the third round of interviews gets too intrusive he watches as her normally friendly banter turns into scathing definitive statements that defends his clan of two and a fire burns in his gut.

He acknowledged when his concussion cleared that Eziriel is an objectively attractive woman. With her clever brain, witty tongue, and kind hands he could see how easily someone could be enchanted by her, but he was not one to be drawn into amorous attachments outside of carnal stress relief. Eziriel was meant to be a distant star in his time with her. Something in the dark night sky of his life that was a bright guiding beacon when he was thrown from his path; a star that shined so beautifully that he could admire from a distance in his memory when he was back on his trek and no longer lost; an astronomical body not meant for him to get any closer in exploration.

But then she puts on a vicious smile and fierce tone and defends his culture to the case officer when he tries to claim that they could not proceed without facial recognition, names, or at the very least a decrypted chain code, even though Arkadia doesn’t even use them. She was prepared for that and brings up a hundred year’s worth of data that held passage clearance case files where encrypted chain codes or alternate identifiers were used to adhere to culture differences, some of which were Mandalorian files Din noted.

That small shining star’s gravitational pull dragged him in to witness the might of its white-hot plasma and he doesn’t know if he has the strength to look away.

Kriff.

He nearly misses the resolution to their argument but is focused back at the defeated sigh of the case officer. He grumbles that doing it her way would take hours of paperwork, as if it hasn’t already taken hours already, and that it could be weeks before getting any approval.

“I am terribly sorry that you must do the bare minimum of your job description. My deepest condolences,” she says with that venomous inflection and that sickening sweet smile. “Here is an approval to move their case to the top of the stack at every turn. King Amarian’s royal seal and everything.”

She pulls a datapad out of her bag to add to the pile of other datapads and paperwork. Din didn’t need to be able to magically read emotions to see that the case officer is frustrated, regardless of how well he was trying to hide it. The case officer begrudgingly takes a hand and vocal print of Din as proof of identity. He then has his protocol droid collect everything and commands them back to the waiting room in order to wait for the temporary visas.

After a total of six hours they are finally walking back to where she parked the landspeeder. She tugs her blazer off as Din settles the kid into the back seat. As soon as she plants herself in the pilot seat and the doors close she buries her face into her blazer and lets out a ragged scream, startling the child and Din both. He feels amusement pull at his mouth when she pulls her head up and she is all wild copper curls and frazzled red faced, gone was the smiling stoic facade she has been presenting in the prefecture.

“Maker’s hairy balls,” she says and Din’s almost smile grows at the colorful language she has been holding back for hours. “I’ve always heard it was bad, that they always started every interaction with ‘it’s not possible’, but kriffing hell!” She slumps her form deep into the seat and rests her head against the headrest taking a moment to close her eyes.

“Thank the stars I had Princess Ziri on my side,” he quips and catches the corner of her lip quirk up at her nickname. Her head lolls to face him as the icy fire drains from her eyes and mirth starts to refill them once again, and it makes his chest alight with an ember of satisfaction to cause that reaction.

“Well, Princess Ziri is starving and so is the little laddie,” she says, sitting straight once more and glancing over her shoulder to smile at the kid in his little safety seat before patting Din on the unarmored part of his arm and pointing at his helmet. “I’d make you buy me a drink after all that bantha shit, but since I am oathbound to your wellbeing I can’t, in good conscience, make you pay. So let’s say you owe me a drink once my oath is fulfilled.”

“Done,” he says with a single nod of his head as she gives him a true smile filled with that teasing kindness that he has gotten used to in the last four days and begins pulling out of the parking garage. He doesn’t even bother to ask where she is taking them, he just sits and listens to her talk to his ward about all the types of desserts the restaurant she plans to take them has.

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The small cozy restaurant at the edge of the city wasn’t too busy when they show up between the lunch and dinner rush, but the middle-aged owner makes it a point to exchange pleasantries with Eziriel and fondly talk to the child in between serving other tables. Din spends the lunch watching the child be spoiled by Eziriel who gives the boy a piece of each of the deserts she could get a sample of before Din has to stop her which earns him a pout from the pair. At the end of the meal Eziriel insists on a to-go bag of food and shoves it into Din’s arms before he could protest, claiming that if he can take a moment to eat he should.

Once they are back in the landspeeder she takes them out of the city and starts coasting next to the large lake heading towards the starport on the opposite end. With the gentle stringed music she had put on the kid is nearly instantly asleep and Din takes that quiet moment to ask a question he has been curious about for a few days.

“What would have happened if I refused to apply for the planetary visa?” he keeps his voice low enough not to wake the child and he watches her face cringe at the question.

“Then we would have probably had to detain you two,” she admits with a lowered voice.

“‘We’? You would have tried to detain me?” Din says with amusement at the mere thought of her small frame trying to take him in.

“No, no, no, ‘we’ as in Arkadia, not me personally. If you were not cooperative or receptive to my help I’d have been forced to call the Enforcers in,” she explains and from the few times he’s heard the word he assumes that the Enforcers are Arkadia’s military. “It would have been nothing personal, but the location of Arkadia must remain hidden from anyone who can’t be trusted. I hope you understand.”

“I’m not offended that you would have protected your people,” he replies honestly. “I am mildly surprised you didn’t call your military when I pointed my blaster at you, being royalty and all.”

“Twice,” she amends with a smirk.

“Twice,” he agrees at the number of times he’s drawn his blaster on her.

“Well, you started off pointing your blaster at me through your ship’s viewscreen. So that wasn’t a big threat.” Her smirk grows at the memory.

“I had a head injury,” Din grumbles and she chuckles at him.

“I, for one, am glad you were eventually agreeable and proved yourself trustworthy enough for me not to call the Enforcers, despite your ornery introduction,” she gives him that sincere look once again as they fall back into a comfortable silence with some soft melodic music coming from the speeder’s comms accompanying their trip around the lake.

After a peaceful drive through the wooded lakeside they arrive at an industrial part of the city where the starport was the primary focus of the area. Most of the surrounding buildings were either private docking bays or businesses focused on space travel and maintenance.

As she pilots the landspeeder through the maze of buildings Eziriel gasps and points to a small fleet of sleek rose gold starfighters docked on an upper platform of the starport and excitedly tells Din about how a prototype device she has been developing for the past year was being tested on them. When he asks about the prototype he takes in how she perks up and starts happily rambling to him about how the device she invented conserves power and how quickly it can transfer that power to systems that need it, ultimately creating a more reactive user interface than ever before, which results in the ship’s systems to function at a higher rate. It was honestly a rather mundane topic that Din barely kept up with, but the way her eyes light up when she explains the device as if it were the most innovative creation in centuries gives Din an insight of how passionately she feels towards her work.

By the time she pulls them into a public garage Din has learned more about electrical relays than he ever cared about knowing. He tries his best to collect the kid from his safety seat and place him in his pram without waking him and is moderately successful, provoking only a few grumpy grunts from the child before falling back asleep. She leads them out of the garage and down the cobbled street pointing out shops that could be useful if he needed to restock his ship if he were to visit again and when she mentions that it causes him to mentally pause.

He has not really considered coming back since he’s primarily been focused on leaving. Arkadia seems like a lovely, if not privileged, planet. It would be wise to use the passage visa to a planet that was uncharted and overly secure. It would ultimately be a great place to lie low if they needed to avoid the Empire remnants in his search for the Jedi. Not to mention Eziriel mentioned something about Mandalorians in the prefecture, maybe there is a covert here that he could get in contact with. The Armorer told him to search out Mandalorian in his hunt for the Jedi, but he thought his bounty hunter skills were enough to find a trail to them without aid. Din sighs at his hubris and makes a note to ask Eziriel about the Mandalorian history here when they are alone again.

After a few turns and a push through some young rowdy pilots who start to jeer at Eziriel before quickly holding their tongue once they see his broad figure behind her, she leads them to a shop front. The front of the building looks like it was once very modern, but age and time made it stick out against the newer buildings. The windows and pathways are filled with large potted plants that climb up the walls in a verdant maze, except for a large square portion of the vines that is neatly cut away to show the building’s red facade that has the name “Torbin’s'' freshly painted in a shiny gold script. Following Eziriel through the door they are greeted by a smiling middle-aged Nautolan woman seated behind an organized desk dressed in a flowing floral dress that compliments her blue skin.

“Bless the stars, look at you dressed all pretty! Not a single grease stain or burn mark in sight! Trying to impress your new Mandalorian?” the woman says with waggling eyebrows towards Eziriel.

“Yes. I’ve been told unblemished clothes are the way to court a Mandalorian out of their armor and into my bed. You figured me out, Filia,” Eziriel quips with an overly serious tone and a smirk. Filia throws her head back in a laugh causing the golden jewelry wrapped around her head tentacles to jingle noisily. She pulls Eziriel into a brief hug before holding her out at arms length.

“He should be so lucky,” she winks at Dins and hooks Eziriel’s arm into her own to guide her through the waiting room that they had first entered into. Filia leads them through a hallway with shelves cluttered with labeled ship parts as she regales Eziriel with her daughter’s recent accomplishments in some sort of medical academy.

Opening the backdoor a wide open workspace with three attached hangers comes into view. The tall overhead hangar door was retracted and two smaller towing vessels sat in the center of the workspace while a crew of three Arkadians were inspecting the mounted tractor beams. A green skinned Nautolan man stood with a datapad and was giving out instructions to his crew. He turns when he hears Filia call and makes his way over to them after issuing a final command to his crew.

“You must be the owner of that downed antique in Ga’ladora’s Canyon,” the man says with a grin and holds out a hand for Din to shake. “I am Torbin Dresden.”

“She’s old, but faithful,” Din responds, shaking his hand firmly before resting it on his belt. “Eziriel has told me you are the best mechanic to get the Razor Crest back in the sky.”

“Bah,” he says, swatting his hand in the air dismissively. “She just says ‘cause I let her tinker with the electronics of ships I’m working on when she needs to clear her head. But I will use everything in my skill set to get your ship up and running.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Din nods in thanks.

“I will say, with the scans that Eziriel sent me of how it is wedged in the canyon, it might take us longer than usual with extraction,” Torbin informs them with a slight grimace. “So it might be a few days before it even gets to the shop, but I can comm you when it is if you’d like to retrieve anything from it. Or if you’d like to amend any of Eziriel’s plans for the ship.”

Din cocks his head before slowly turning it down towards Eziriel. “Eziriel’s plans?” He asks with a cool voice trying to rein in the temper he feels brewing at the audacity of the woman making calls for his ship. At the furrow of her brow he assumes she feels that irritation.

“Cool your jets, Lori. I just sent him the original blueprint of a ST-70 Assault Ship,” she says with a placating wave of her hand. “I was going to have him use better quality material and upgrade a few things if needed, but was going to run that by you first.” Din feels his anger recede at that. She wasn’t trying to make decisions for him, she was just trying to help by giving the mechanic the blueprint in advance so he could better prepare.

“Thank you, but the upgrades are not necessary. I don’t have the spare credits for excessive spending,” he says to her before glancing at Torbin. “Just get it hyperspace-worthy.”

“Mando, this is coming out of my pocket.” He opens his mouth to argue how he doesn’t need charity when he sees her with a serious expression, eyes pleading with him. “Your safety is my priority. That includes a high-functioning ship that can manage the wilds of space,” she says slowly with deliberate emphasized beats.

Din stares at her earnest face while he has an internal debate. He detests being in debt to someone, it hangs around his neck like an invisible collar with a chain that yanks him at the most inconvenient time. People have abused the favors he’s owed them when he was younger and he has strived to avoid becoming indebted ever since. Being under anyone’s thumb repulses Din down to his bones.

However, Eziriel explained the night before the importance of her binding herself to him and the vow she made for his safety. She implied that not letting her fulfill that vow would ultimately hurt her and that it was a very sacred thing that her culture maintains, which held no ties or expectations on his end. It reminds Din of a Wookiee life debt, which is seen just as seriously when pledged. Sure, she is bending the verbiage to go beyond what he deems necessary, but her generosity and the kindness behind it sways Din to trust her that much more.

“Torbin is giving me a great deal because of the free work he gets out of me, every single decision will be approved by you, and I will even do all the electrical labor so you don’t have feel like you are draining my bank dry,” she negotiates before Din has a chance to respond. She leans in and elbows him playfully and in a dramatic whisper says, “Not that you could, royal coffers and all that.”

“Okay,” he eventually responds in a soft voice and watches her body melt into relief. “I don’t like being indebted to people.”

“Well good thing you won’t owe me anything,” she says with an equally soft voice.

“Feeling indebted to people is nearly as bad,” he admits.

“Well, maybe I can find you things to do for me to relieve that burden,” she says with a growing smirk. “You’re good with kids, maybe cover my biweekly childminding gig?”

Din releases a small exhale of amusement and turns to where Torbin and Filia had drifted away during his and Eziriel’s intense conversation. Din waves them over and thanks them for the work they are going to put into the ship while Eziriel fills out the datapad Torbin hands to her.

The rest of the conversation of repair planning goes smoothly and Din is only momentarily taken aback when he witnesses Torbin casually float the filled out datapad to his crew with a barely there wave of his hand while making a friendly dig at Eziriel. It makes him realize that it will take more than a day surrounded by the magic wielding citizens of Arkadia for Din to get used to the casualness of their powers. The thought of getting used to the everyday power usage of the people brings up his previous internal debate on coming back to this planet and using it as a refuge.

Could he feel secure enough to hide away here if necessary? Possibly, he thinks as he watches that rose gold patrol squadron take off from the starport while they walk back to the landspeeder; Eziriel pointing to them and chatting away to the now-awake toddler.

Would he come back to this planet even if he didn’t need to use it as a safe place to lay low? Din looks over at the child who pats Eziriel’s face while joining her in pointing at the starfighters and he pushes down the chest-warming simmering thought of yes before continuing to follow the woman back to the landspeeder.

<< Chapter Seven

Chapter Nine >>

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #din djarin x original female character #fanfiction #pedro pascal #star wars au #din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin x ofc #din djarin x original character #the mandolarian #mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian #third person pov #third person perspective #the mandalorian x original character #the mandalorian x reader

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sometimesraven · 6 months

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I've been thinking a lot about generational problems and why gen z (specifically Chronically Online Gen Z) are the way they are, and I think some of it is down to Gen X???

I mean tbh it's a combination of all the current older generations' faults, millenials included, and is a natural conclusion of all that, but I think we just don't credit gen X enough for anything bad they did so here goes:

Bare in mind I'm coming at this from a chronically online cusp/Zillenial perspective and I could be totally wrong bc I'm not entirely smart on generations and stuff, I just see social patterns and theorise about them, and I think a lot of this only applies to the versions of these generations we see online and not so much the offline ones (because we all collectively forget that most people don't spend 80% of their time on the internet)

Like, Gen X are the "forgotten" generation. Why are they forgotten? Because they don't do anything. Gen X is the generation of apathy. Of turning your head when the thing is uncomfortable. Of "well there's nothing I can do about it so why bother caring".

Don't get me wrong, they did a lot. Obviously almost all of the media that shaped Millenials came from Gen X but I think that's kind of the point? There obviously are Gen X who give a lot of shits, but they could only express it through the arts and rarely through hands-on social action like other generations. An artist could write so many songs about how shit the world is but when they're asked in an interview it's "no comment". Artists who do and have always spoken out are silenced or brushed off as 'radical'.

I think that's also why there's a lot of people who are now being outed as shitty, for the same reason. Gen X spend so much time looking away from things that make them uncomfortable that they often end up looking like fools or outing themselves as bigots when they do speak out, because that discomfort avoidance means they don't have the same social awareness they're expected to have.

Millenials were largely raised by boomers, right? They were raised by a generation who were extremely entitled and privileged. Then Gen X started making art that said "actually no fuck that" but never actually going against the status quo, and they took the message to heart, combined it with their experience of being raised by just,,,, rude, shitty, entitled people, and became the generation of social consciousness.

Elder Millenials focused on all the things their boomer parents were bad at and Gen X talked about on TV. Being polite at restaurants, noticing the ways abuse and social discrimination are perpetuated and trying to break those cycles. Boomers are emotionally neglectful with their "stiff upper lip, bootstraps" mentality and Gen X are only outspoken on TV, so Millenials focused on mental health and being unapologetic about individual identity in their day to day lives.

Younger Millenials started to be more politically conscious as more of us were raised by Gen X parents but still experienced a lot of Boomer shit firsthand, so we started to care more about everything because we saw firsthand how the previous two generations had ruined our chances and didn't want that for the next ones.

Then come Gen Z. A lot of Gen Z are raised by Gen X so the political consciousness became the forefront of our beliefs. We had millenial older siblings or millenial media growing up, so our social consciousness was ingrained in us that way, and with the internet it was a lot easier to spread that conscious message.

Unfortunately, with the way the world is, Gen Z had to realise pretty quickly the lesson that Millenials learned much slower -- that the previous generations fucked us. Hard. Gen Z channeled that at a terrifying speed into political activism and the most widespread social action we'd seen in a Long Time.

Younger gen Z were raised by combination Gen X and older Millenials. Older Millenials were young enough to have spent a lot of time on the internet but too old for it to truly have shaped their psyche the way it did younder millenials. Now we have a generation who Doesn't Care combined with a generation who doesn't understand the internet anymore and has let their kids have free reign on all the shit.

Older gen z and younger millenials understand how much the internet fucks you up, I think. We seem to be more cautious with our kids' exposure to the internet, if we have kids at all. Idk what Gen Alpha are gonna be like at this point. But here lies part of the problem. Younger Gen Z had full reign of the internet from a young age. They saw a lot of shit they shouldn't mostly because they had no idea how to police their own online experience.

On top of this, and this is the most important part, Gen Z were being watched by the internet. Always.

So younger Gen Z have a strong political compass but also have seen the full spectrum of shitshow that is the internet.

In real life, they saw Gen X caring about nothing because it hurts their feelings. They saw elder Millenials caring so much about mental health and people's feelings that they failed to truly address anything politically. They took those things, and decided that being afraid of hurting people's feelings was the true evil -- that if we are to grow a just society, we have to be able to ruffle feathers.

And they're right! But then that combined with their siblings and media, elder Gen Z/younger Millenials', understanding that openly taking a stance on politics is important, and with the constant surveillance of the internet combined with a sprinkle of algorithms making it super easy to be pushed down extremist pipelines.

The result? A generation who thinks they must take a hard stance all the time and care very much about everything always, and hurting peoples' feelings is Always Okay if you think it's righteous.

I think they also have a lil entitlement (but also horrible pressure) that comes from being told by millenials at an early age that they're frighteningly politically conscious and are Absolutely Going To Change The Whole World and are just The Best Generation Ever

tl;dr - it's everyone's fault that Gen Z are Like That and we should work towards figuring out how to help them Not Be Like That, but also Gen X being apathetic about literally everything has had a huge domino-effect impact on Gen Z caring too much about literally everything

#idk if any of this makes sense #it's mostly just a thoughtdump/stream of consciousness

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djuvlipen · 1 year

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Hey, are there any romani Radfem orgs?

good question! as far as I know, there aren't any

When talking about Romani orgs of any kind we've got to keep in mind that the ones who get fundings and visibility are EU-sponsored or get private fundings from George Soros' Open Society Foundation, and those groups are actively crushing any grassroots romani organization. Romani feminist Angéla Koczé talked about this in her book Gender, Ethnicity and Class, here's some posts where I go into more details about her writing x x. Thing is, the EU tolerates the sex trade and gender ideology, and George Soros is notorious for funding pimp lobbies x. With that in mind, it's difficult for any Romani radical feminist (anticapitalist, anti gender, anti sex trade) org to blossom

As far as I know there aren't any explicitly gender critical, radical feminist romani org in Europe (if there are, it must be a pretty small group because I've absolutely never heard of any such group even though I try to keep track of anything that has to do with Romani women). In Spain, the only Romani feminist org that's openly against the sex trade and that I can think of right now, is Fakali

If we're talking about Romani orgs that actually do things to help women, there's Pattern, a program that aims at fighting against domestic violence in Romani communities in the Balkan, the Iberian peninsula and in the EU. There's also the PCRM (Policy Center for Roma and Minorities) whose goal is to help Roma in the education system and in the workplace and they have some programs directed specifically towards women. But both are EU-funded, not female-led, so I find it difficult to trust them

I guess the closest thing we have to a romani radfem org is the Domari Society, which is located in Jerusalem, was funded and is led by Palestinian-Domari women (the Dom are a people that's either considered a part of the Romani diaspora or akin to the Romani diaspora, it's complicated). They don't use the words "radical feminist" but their actions are definitely aligned on radical feminist values, they support Palestinian Domari women, help them with school, uni, on the workplace, they give food/hygiene products/clothes to families in need (which definitely will help mothers and girls). Their work is particularly relevant considering that the Dom suffer intense racism from the Israeli State

#roma #asks #xkilljoy

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its300am · 10 months

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Something may be happening right now

What is written here is nothing but a compilation of uncertainties, something I should be taking to the therapy room from which I constantly find myself running away. I always wanted to have a blog, always thought it was great, and I was always in this field. I was in the golden eras of Tumblr as a reader and every now, and then I dared to write, but insecurity always caught up with me. I wrote, but I was terrified of being read. When someone who knew me discovered my writings, that was it, I would never appear on that website again. And that's why drowned and doomed to probably give up that I'm not going to give any certainty that this will one day become something, in fact, it may just be a journal. It will always be in process and if anyone asks, well, it's something I'm trying to make happen. Who knows, maybe one day it will happen even without me knowing.

I don't know if this format still works, It may seem cringe to younger ones, but I used to like things like this, and now that I'm way closer to my 30s than my 20s I'm in the right to be cringe or old-fashioned anyway… I'm not certain about my username yet, I wanted to be something that represents what people will find here, or what I look like to readers. I think the name will come to me eventually by itself. For now I'm its300am.

There are subjects that I like or deal with in general, and I think I should mention it to be aware of what may appear here.

• Movies, but my letterboxd is pretty empty, I mostly post vaguely there because I'm afraid of my mutuals, I mean, they know me IRL, so…

• Anime and manga, but it's been a while since I got close to any of those, college is being so hard on me. Still, my favorites are Dr. Stone, Bungo Stray Dogs and Jojo's Bizarre Adventure.

• Literature, but I have such a reading hangover that I spend more time thinking about reading than reading (and the bookshelf is just getting ignored). You can see as my goodreads is left to flies.

• Feminism, okay, in this one I think I'm more active, I'm even part of a women's collective, I may come to comment more on that in the future. I'm a Marxist feminist btw.

• Eco-socialism, this one is new to me, but I've always loved the subject, and now I'm getting closer, maybe one thing or another will appear even from my exploration on the subject.

• Comics, this is the sunken skeleton of that pool meme, you know what it is? I used to love it, but it's really been a long time since I've been close, I want to go back. I really like DC's specially their girls such as Wonder Woman, Harley Quinn, Ivy Poison, Punchline, Zatanna, and others. From Marvel, I enjoy X-Men, Guardians of the Galaxy and I have interest in the Eternals.

Other than that I get into a little bit of everything, in music I can't even say what my favorite genre is. My favorite artists transit between Mozart, Lily Allen, Sistar, Charlie Brown Jr, Selena Gomez, Ludmila, Green Day and so on, without any apparent pattern. My for you is summarized in compilations of kittens and some cosplayers, occasionally something about decoration or DIY appears.

In terms of games, I'm not committed to any, because I don't have much time to play, but I like Danganronpa, Identity V, Dead by Daylight, Street Fight V and Twisted Wonderland. The last one is the only one I play more often, since it doesn't demand much from me. I was addicted to Genshin Impact once, but I left the world of drugs and entered the world of hard drugs (college). Since then, it was a lost cause, and I'm not even a good student, I just need to work twice as hard to keep myself at least average. Thank you dyslexia, thank you bipolar disorder, without you my life would be very easy, so it wouldn't be any fun. /irony

My current addictions are listening to podcasts while doing daily activities, some of my favorites are Ciência Suja and Modus Operandi, both in my native language (Portuguese). Plus another addiction is organizing my stuff, the problem is that it never stays organized, so I'm constantly organizing a lifelong mess.

Now that you know me intimately, let's get to the formalities, I prefer to be called Kaká and I have no preference or identification with a specific pronoun. My sexuality is pan, but I'm not going to make war with anyone who confuses it with bi, I live in a huge fatigue, I don't have the energy for that, really. I'm studying literature and modern languages, focused on Portuguese, and I should graduate whenever destiny has planned to. I want to be a teacher, but every day I lose confidence that I have what it takes to pursue this career, so my plan b is to find a publisher that will take me on their team. Yo hablo Español & I want to learn Italian, French, Mandarin and Russian one day, not today.

I don't know what I'm doing here! Maybe it becomes a kind of logbook, and in this case I'm on board of my own life, trying to figure out what comes next and very afraid of what will become of me.

That's it. Fin.

#its the beginning of something new i think #journal #journaling #diary entry

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the-ufo · 3 months

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A guide to creativity

A lot of people, especially beginners, struggle with being creative and coming up with new and innovative ideas. When you search online for how to be creative, it's tough to find a practical solution, something that will actually help you think creatively, and not just set the stage for you to do so.

I'll be focusing here on video games, since it's the medium I am most familiar with, but this can be applied to any form of art you want.

I think creativity is best described by the saying "think outside the box", and to do so, instead of randomly throwing ideas and hoping they will land outside of the box, you should try to understand what the box, or in this metaphor the usual trappings of the art form you're working with.

For this example lets use a 2D platformer games. Let's say that you want to create an innovative 2D platformer game, but can't think of any ideas to what would set you apart from the others. First thing you should do, is try understanding what the box is, and in this case, what are the constraints of almost every, if not all, 2D platformer games. In other words, write a list of what is common between almost all 2D platformer games.

TO BE CLEAR, i'm not talking about the neccecary ellements that makes a platformer game a platformer, but the things that almost always appear in these games. Our point is to find the rule to be able to think of exceptions, so don't think about exceptions with writing these. After you did it your list would probably look pretty short, probably like this:

Jumping

Platforms

You moving a character with the keyboard.

We could use this to move onto the next step, where we pick one of these words and subvert it.

For example, we can say "what if we made a platformer without jumping?" or "what if we made a platformer where you don't move the character?" And This is a great start, but if the "box" is defined with so little words, even tough it gives you a lot of opportunity for exploration, it only really give you a vague direction to where "outside of the box" is, and you still need to do a lot of thinking creatively yourself.

So for a beginner with, someone who need a more strict direction, it would be best if you try to include in your list as much as possible, and everything that is typically in a 2D platformer should be there. This is still not an easy task, you need to understand the medium you're working in pretty good, and pay attention to things that almost always get under the radar.

Here is a list of everything I found is commonly in the mechanics of platformer games:

jump arc- the jump activates when you press its button on the ground and always follows an arc that first goes up, eases in and out at the peak and then goes down.

basic movement is controlled with right and left that move along the x axis

health - the player usually has a relatively low amount of health that gets reduced by one each time they perform an undesirable act such as falling, hitting an enemy or touching obstacles the health does not affect the player unless it reaches 0

death - when the health of the player reach 0 they are set back to a previous point and need to redo some actions

checkpoints - set points in the level that save the players progress which they are sent back to upon dying

platforms - objects in the level that the player can't pass through, and refresh the jump when stood on

obstacles - objects in the level that the player can't pass through and damage the player apon impact

enemies - obstacles that have some sort of movement pattern, or create objects that move in attempt to impede your progress

gravity - a constant force downwards that forces the player to stand on platforms to not fall

collectables - items throughout the level which are collected upon touching, usually can be traded for upgrades

goal - the goal is most of the time to simply arrive at a certain destination, usually found in the end of the level

Once you understand how restricting all these limitations are on the standard platformer, it becomes incredibly easy to just change, remove or subvert some of these "rules" and come up with a unique twist.

So let's try it! let's take a random "rule" and change it!

Lets for example take the jump. Like I wrote, every platformer jump goes up, eases in and out and then goes down, so what if we just change its arc to down, up and then down? Will it make for an interesting game? There might be something there, but i would rather try another idea...

Let's try the platforms, they are always solid objects, so what if we just remove their collision? Now we have an area that refreshes the players jump like a platform, but still allows the player to fall. So pretty much, we got an infinite jump zone! This might have been done before, but it can be a fun gimmick for a level. let's move on to the next.

Well... Enemies usually impede your progress, so what if we make them helpful instead? In this case what we would get is creatures or people that try to help you through the level! For me that sounds like a really cool idea!

What if we made the character not move through keys, but with the mouse? What if made the collectables not be collected when touched but when they reach a certain place, so you need to carry them around? What if we removed gravity, and the player needed to find their way to the floor to refresh their jump? What if we change the goal to survive some amount of time?

With this process it's much easier to think out of the box, and figure out what have been done before, and what haven't.

Obviously, coming up only with ideas for a certain genre will be limiting, and eventually youll have a hard time coming up with new ideas. you should try this approach on many genres and combine the ideas you come up with, and maybe even take a single game with a unique mechanic and write this mechanics components like this.

It should be said though, not every change will be successful or unique. Some changes or removals will result in something that has already been done, something that barely changes the formula or something that simply doesn't work. You still need to apply logic to the ideas you think of, and think for yourself if they are interesting, unique or good at all.

Most of your ideas from here will still probably won't be that amazing, but what this approach allows you to do is start generating ideas. Your job after it is to dig through them and pick the ones you want.

If you're reading this, thank you so much for taking the time to read my rambling; I really appreciate it. And lastly, if you have anything you would like to ask or add, I would love it if you did.

#creative writing #creativity

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marginaletchings · 1 year

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fandom advice from someone who has been an active participant since the 90s*:

*- I am aware some folks have been active in fandom since long before that, you pedants don’t need to crawl out of the woodwork at me.

* * *

Learning to shut up/not say something is a very valuable skill, and it’s #1 on this list because I like dramatic irony. You don’t always have to comment on something that upsets you, even if/when you are right to do so. Sometimes you need to realize even if/when you are justified and correct, it’s better to just... stop. Learn to pick your battles. Most hills are not worth dying on whether you’re in the right or not, and that’s something that I’m still learning to keep in practice. But trust me: It is well worth the effort and it will cut down 90% of the drama in your fandom life, and life in general.

Try to step back and reread someone’s comment or whatever in good faith, not bad. Stop assuming the absolute worst of everyone around you. Even when someone says something stupid, going at them with pitchforks and torches is going to do nothing but cause unnecessary public drama and misunderstandings. Are some people worth calling out publicly? Sure! And are many others putting their foot in their mouth and don’t need to be pilloried? Absolutely! I don’t know how to tell you all this, but many of us, especially fandom folks in their 30s/older are still working on un/re-wiring some old shitty microaggressions and patterns of behavior. No, the time you grew up in isn’t “an excuse”, it doesn’t make Saying the Stupid Thing unhurtful; and yet, dogpiling someone who otherwise has a chill track record still makes you an asshole. You can’t say “intention doesn’t matter” and then publicly lambast someone for a recent Tweet they didn’t think enough about making. Don’t get me started on people freaking out over Tweets someone made 7-15+ years ago. There was a LOT of cultural change in the 2010s, please allow people to have personal growth and move the fuck on.

If you have a problem with something someone has done/said, once or twice or several times, but they appear to have a decent track record otherwise? JUST TALK TO THEM. Send them a DM. Be like, “hey, I noticed [x thing]. [x thing] was [hurtful/upsetting/disappointing] to see because [y reason(s)]. I feel this could have been [handled/said/expressed] better. Are you willing to talk about this? Thanks for listening.” Yeah sure there will be people who react poorly--and I guarantee you, there will also be plenty of people who genuinely don’t want to be hurtful to others either.

Learn how to apologize graciously. No matter what your intentions were, and even if someone is reacting very strongly to something seemingly innocuous--learn to apologize. Swallow your pride. Even if someone is being rude, and shitty, sometimes all they want to hear is an acknowledgement of their sense of having been done wrong. The best you can do is offer something along the lines of, “I am sorry [person’s name/handle], I’m sorry that what I [wrote/said/did] was [hurtful/harmful] to you. I’ll do my best to avoid [writing/saying/doing] [thing] again, and I’m open to feedback if you have any on what I could’ve done better. Thanks again for reaching out to me about this.” It shows that you’ve taken the time to sympathize with how they’re feeling, you’re not making excuses or making it all about you/your feelings, you redirect the conflict into a positive forward progression, and finally, you show graciousness and thank someone for their time, humanizing their efforts.

Learn how to accept people’s apologies. Don’t be a nitpicky asshole. (See advice #1 & #2.) Sometimes you need to thank someone for their apology, mayhaps offer critcism as calmly/constructively as you can if they ask for it, and then step away. Also, if they don’t ask for criticism, don’t dump an essay of it onto them. You can even offer to give it to them with the caveat that it will only happen once you and they have had a chance to cool off and mull things over. Not all conflicts need to be resolved in the immediate moment and most of them CAN’T be anyway.

Try to understand that even if you do your best at all of the above, sometimes people will never be happy, and you are allowed to calmly take your leave from situations once you have communicated to the best of your ability. Then refer to advice #1.

Remember when engaging in disk horse/discussions to consider the “yes, and...” principle: listen to and get on the same page with their line of thinking, then expand upon it so you don’t leave the other person hanging, or leave them with the burden of the discussion, or give the impression of shutting the discussion down. If you don’t understand a person’s line of thinking, then ask for clarification. Conversations/discussions are just two people writing a back and forth dialogue and what makes conversing more difficult than writing a script (ime) is you don’t know what the other person is thinking, so you need to do your best to communicate as deliberately and levelly as you can. There is a progression to talking to people and should be a forward movement. If someone says, “I think it’s interesting how many wars the United States has had with its current allies” and you reply, “The American Continental Army fought the British in the American War of Independence”... that... doesn’t offer anything, there is no movement, and seemingly you have failed to give the other person the benefit of the doubt that the AmRev is one of those wars to which they referred. Now you’ve left them with the awkward burden of trying to redirect the conversation or just disengaging entirely. A better way to respond would have been, “Yeah, absolutely! I’m interested in the American Revolution in particular” which first shows that you have listened to what they said, enough to pull a specific thread from their thought, and now you have expanded on it by relaying one of your own thoughts/feelings which will give the other person incentive to either say something about that war, or to ask you their own questions. In short: You have showed someone that you heard them, and are now giving something in return for them to expand upon. It’s the difference between talking with someone and AT them, and doing too much of the latter can be extremely offputting for everyone around you.

#fandom #fandom advice #disk horse #long post #tl;dr #discussions

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brittapcrrys · 1 year

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admins, u really gotta stop putting shit like “for every [x number of] white muse/s you play, your next must be a person of colour [i usually see it as a 1:1 ratio but have seen 2:1 and worse before].............. OR otherwise diverse in some way”

so we’re still acting like various “types” of diversity, representation & inclusion are ALL interchangeable? as though the idea that ‘for every one (1) cis, abled, thin, white fc/muse under 40.................... the next one’s just gotta tick ONE of those ~ID diversity~ boxes’ is somehow fair and balanced and reasonable???

like ??!!? really? a faceclaim of colour can be ignored in this situation if ur gonna play.....a 60yo white fc, a fat OR disabled OR trans white fc? just so long as they are diverse in ONE way, that balances everything out fairly, yeah? [/sarcastic slant, and pointed rhetorical questions. for now]

for every 1 white muse, your next MUST be a muse of colour. always. it should be at least 2 muses of colour for every 1 white muse imo but im just trying to dig away at the bare minimum of respect and inclusion, here. and an admin team’s responsibility cannot just be to passively encourage it, sort of, maybe ‘we can’t force anyone to do anything hehe sorry’. if you can demand certain fc/oc age rules, activity limits, muse numbers per person, members in the group, post formatting etc........................ expecting and enforcing ‘stricter’ rules to ENSURE greater diversity in characters / from your members is a MUST.

and that’s the obvious one to start with and the easiest one to define a minimum ratio for, because, like, if we’re going on real global demographic statistics (even in our silly little made up idealistic fantasy writing worlds), then characters of colour SHOULD be the majority by a significant margin! asking for 1:1 is letting ppl off pretty damn easily!! (this is without even going into how some ppl with Tick That Box, every single time it’s required, with a fc who is mixed, white-passing or has lighter skin... im white, im repeating ideas i’ve read from muns of colour over the last few years, and im not digging further into this here but there’s a pattern of it that needs to be acknowledged and improved - but not at the expense of the experiences and inclusion of those fcs and muns of similar backgrounds. i am not saying it is only 1 or the other bc apparently ppl take it that way smfh)

the ~ratios~ and expectations you said for gender, body diversity, disability, & sometimes age (though like.... groups that set age diversity at 35&up are reaaalllly testing my patience) are sort of.....a grey area, im not equipped to say ‘this is the Correct and Precise number u need to enforce’. personally? i think if you have a player with 2 characters, 1 of them should (as well as, obviously, at least 1 of the 2 being a muse of colour) fit into one of these ~additional diversity categories~ which feels very fucking “ugh corporate mandates spreading the political correctness extremes down the chain now” gross to name it that but it’s 2:40am and this is mostly a vent / rant, likely to be deleted within 24-28hrs. again imo, 3 muses should be a 2:1 FCoC:whitefc ratio, and you need to be including at least 2 of the other lines of diversity in ur fc and character choices (how that’s done -, separately i.e. 1 is an amputee and another is genderfluid; or ‘combined’ i.e. a fat disabled muse & a 50yo trans woman - im v flexible on but like the more u up ur character count the more im gonna expect myself & others to be looking at fcs and muses with overlapping ‘diversity criteria’). but maybe ur a 1 in 3 kinda person, 1 in 4 is probably pushing it, and frankly anything more ‘lenient’ than that is just the admin team not caring enough abt these groups of people or prioritizing their visibility and inclusion in their group.

there’s more but this is already longer than i wanted it to be, and im getting more unsettled abt the clumsy wording by the second, & ALSO wanting to re-/over-explain every single point again to justify myself to all possible reader interpretations so. that is a sign to Quit.

#kim speaks.#rpc bullshit i should not look at or think abt during pmdd week jfc #i mean it's not any new idea but w/ a baseline mood of General Annoyance im just prone to being Less Normal abt this shit

0 notes

mcyt-peach · 2 years

Note

Could I pls request mcyt x reader with needle phobia? Just loads of comfort when they have to go gey a vaccine bc panic attack ect and maybe more comfort afterwards bc next few days of side effects am I right... they/them pronouns pls and I'd love it if u could do wilbur and ranboo as well as any others u want

Tysm

mcyt with an s/o who's afraid of needles

⋆｡˚ summary: today you're getting a shot, so you bring along someone to comfort you through one of your worst fears

⋆｡˚ including: cc!wilbur, cc!george, cc!niki and cc!punz

⋆｡˚ warnings: needles, injections, reader uses she/her pronouns, brief mentions of panic attacks and crying

⋆｡˚ note: I know when you requested this I had Ranboo on my "will write for" list but I was recently updated on his boundaries so he isn't included, sorry :( let me know if you want anyone else added

Wilbur

he is unbelievably understanding of your fears

some people think certain phobias are silly, but Wilbur does the best job of simultaneously calming you down while making sure you feel validated for your feelings

Wilbur’s no stranger to mental health issues and has many coping mechanisms that he’ll go over with you before you even see the doctor

he makes sure you breathe out when you get the shot, so your muscles relax and the injection causes less damage

when the doctor leaves the room and the two of you have some time to yourselves, he runs through your checklist

“Y/n, darling, can you tell me five things you can see?”

he keeps his voice calm, so you can unconsciously follow his breathing pattern

“That’s great love. What about four things you can touch?”

he’s so, so encouraging to you, just working on calming you down and showing you that you’re ok no matter your worry

George

George may not be the most understanding about why you’re afraid of needles, but he knows everyone has their own worries

but if we’re being honest, George was definitely the type of kid to get scared of the doctors office

so while he might have grown out of his fear, he knows that support is what will help you most

he’s mostly a quiet supporter, just sitting by you and letting you squeeze his hand as hard as you need, not complaining even when it feels like you’re breaking his hand

at home, he feels much more confident about taking care of you

all the words he felt embarrassed to say in public come flooding out, albeit in a gentle, soothing tone

“You did so well, my love. M’so proud of you. You we’re so brave.”

he’ll have you lie down on top of him on the couch, keeping your arm from getting pushed into the cushions

sporadic forehead kisses and soft massages to relax your muscles are just what you need after a stressful day, and George is more than happy to deliver that

Niki

you couldn’t imagine anyone better to help comfort you

Niki just wants to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible before, during and after the shot

as someone who cries when stressed, Niki is totally considerate if you freak out while getting the shot

she’ll sit with you in the car afterwards, not passing any judgement, just letting you get all the stress out that you’ve been bottling up

fluffy activities are mandatory for the rest of the day

she basically barcades you and her in bed, insisting on taking care of you for the rest of the day

but not before she brings the cats into the room of course

“Y/nnn, you’ve got some cute little visitors who want to cheer you up!”

she’ll load up one of your favorite comfort movies on her laptop and crawl into bed with you for a movie night

she knows that it won’t make all the stress of the day disappear, but you best believe she’s gonna get at least one smile out of you before the day ends

Punz

Punz may talk a lot of smack, but he really truly hates seeing you in pain

so, even if he’s not perfect at comforting you in the moment, he’ll try his best

he’ll let you curl up into his arm while the injection’s being prepared and your arm is being sanitized

he’d totally stare down the doctor giving you a shot

like he doesn’t even mean to, he just gets overprotective seeing someone cause you pain

if you get any weird looks for your reaction, he’s calmly quieting you and then sending an even harsher death stare their way

he all but tells the doctor to beat it after the shot and lets you cry into his shoulder and won’t let you leave the room until you feel better

when you get home, he’ll dress you up in something big and soft, so the fabric won’t bother the injection site

sure there’s a chance you’ll see the bandaid and spiral again, but he does a good job of keeping you grounded while you’re changing

“Baby, arms up. No, no, don’t look at it. Just let me take care of you.”

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sunder-soul · 3 years

Text

PROMPT 1: Hellooooooo! First off ur writing goes off, second off listen to this idea that i truly think u can bring to life... reader n tom r in a relationship and someone tried to slip tom to love potion but ofc he doesn't fall for it and his gf is like ??? and then they rub their relationship in her face LOL. anyways no worried just thought this would slap! Admire u n ur work!!

PROMPT 2: hey i love your the last of your rules series and everything else you’ve written. i’m not very creative so idk what exactly i’m looking for plot wise i just trust you since everything you’ve written is good but i was wondering if maybe you could write a tom x ravenclaw reader please. the ravenclaw reader tends to be more emotionally reserved and isn’t big on physical affection and maybe tom finds that interesting in a way? idk this idea might suck but felt like asking anyways...

Decided to combine these two because I could see them working really well together… :D

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Retribution

Summary: After somebody tries to slip Tom a love potion to break up him and Ravenclaw Reader’s relationship, they get a little bit theatrical in response...

Wordcount: 1.8k

Content warning: none.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Good morning,” says Tom evenly, lifting a wide-brimmed cup to his lips and taking an even sip as he looks at you.

“Is it?” you say dryly, sitting down opposite him at the Slytherin table and pulling out the new Magical Theory textbook. “Have you looked over this yet?”

“I have,” Tom replies with a very small smile. “Not to your liking?”

“Sophus writes like it’s still the seventeenth century,” you say with a shake of your head, “which isn’t surprising considering I don’t think he included a single reference from the last two hundred years… I mean honestly –” you wave at the title on the front of the book, “– ‘Corpus Magikus?’ Even the title makes it sound ancient.”

“Did you have any criticisms about the actual content per chance?” Tom asks as he lifts his tea again – though it doesn’t quite hide the amused smile on his lips. “Or did you not manage to get past the articulation?”

You give him a look. “The articulation is just as important as the content.”

“I completely disagree,” he replies easily, his cup clinking as he rests it back on its saucer, “regardless of how it is written, his points are extremely sophisticated.”

“I’m not talking about the quality of his points, I’m talking about how well he makes them accessible,” you say at once, picking up a piece of toast and buttering it lightly, “he can have the best criticisms of Magical Theory in the world and no one will care if they can’t understand what he’s saying.”

Tom arches a brow and leans forward on the table, resting on his forearms. “You’re placing the responsibility of understanding an argument on the person presenting it, and not the person receiving it,” he says fluidly, “personally when I find something difficult to understand, I take it as an indicator that I need to return to the topic after better preparing myself.”

“That works fine as an individualistic perspective,” you reply at once, leaning forward to match him, “but a book isn’t written for an individual, is it? It’s written for an audience. A book like this is measured by how wide an audience it can reach, meaning the responsibility is half on him to write accessibly, and half on the audience to go away and fill the holes in our own understanding. That’s when information is dispersed most effectively.”

“Your priority is the dispersion of information as a whole and not the expansion of your personal field of knowledge, and that is the crux of our differing opinion,” Tom says, sitting up straighter and tilting his head calmly.

“I am very aware,” you say dryly, “but you shouldn’t dismiss the importance of charisma when it comes to spreading information. After all, academics aren’t exactly known to be the most charismatic people most of the time, so you end up with intelligent, useful tomes that are utterly incomprehensible to most people –” you nod at the text again, “whilst compelling idiotic drivel is widely consumed.”

The Daily Prophet lands with a thump on your breakfast plate as the delivery owl swoops away with a mournful hoot, and you share a pointed, very wry look with Tom.

Tom breathes a little laugh and laces his fingers around his cup. “So you’re not looking forward to Magical Theory, then.”

“I am,” you amend, frowning, “I just hope the class follows more like Waffling’s work than this.”

“Of course you like Waffling,” Tom smirks, lifting his cup, “he effectively writes in verse –”

Tom suddenly freezes, his brow furrowing lightly. You raise a brow at his sudden reaction. “What?”

He looks down at his tea, still frowning.

“Tom?” you prompt, bemused.

“Someone has attempted to drug me,” he says in complete seriousness, looking up at you.

You stare back, bewildered. “Is… is this more Tom humour?” you ask after a moment, “you seriously need more practice at making jokes, Tom, you really are terrible at it –”

“I’m not joking,” Tom interrupts crisply.

Your scrutiny drops to the cup in his hand. “How can you tell?”

“My tea smells like you.”

Your brows raise. “Excuse me?”

“My tea,” he repeats evenly, his dark eyes coming alight with a flicker of amusement as he leans closer, his cup still in one hand, “rather suddenly smells like you. I can only assume someone has managed to slip Amortentia into my cup sometime during this conversation.”

You blink at him. “Oh,” you say simply.

Tom’s lips curve into a more defined smirk at your expression.

“Well who’s trying to drug you then?” you ask quickly, looking away.

“An excellent question,” he says silkily, eyes still on you. “Their motive is hardly a mystery, so that should narrow it down.”

You roll your eyes and level him with a flat look. “Nothing could narrow it down less, Tom,” you drawl, “half the school is in love with you, and the other half is in denial about being in love with you.”

Tom arches a brow and looks very pleased with himself. “Should I drink it and we can find out?” he asks in amusement, lifting the cup.

You huff a laugh and take a bite of your toast. “Go on then, but don’t expect any sympathy from me when you’re pouring your heart out to some random stranger in front of the whole school a minute from now.”

His hand freezes with the rim of his cup an inch from his mouth, amusement faltering.

“That’s what I thought,” you smirk. “If you want to play it that way you’re going to have to be smarter than that.”

“Oh?” he asks, dark eyes narrowing. “And what would you suggest?”

“If someone drugged you during this conversation then they’re probably watching for your reaction,” you say casually around bites of your toast, “so just look out for someone who’s waiting for you to dramatically break up with me.”

“According to you, that would be the entire school,” Tom mutters, looking significantly more disgruntled than before.

A grin slowly builds on your face. “That was nearly a real joke, Tom,” you say ironically, “Merlin you’ve come so far…”

He shoots you a flat glare and you snicker. “Alright, sorry, I’ll stop – look, if I storm out of here looking upset and you act all conflicted and brooding for the rest of the day, whoever it was will probably try to come talk to you.”

“How theatrical,” Tom deadpans.

You shrug. “Do you want to know who drugged you or not?”

His eyes remain on yours for a moment, and then he lifts the tea to his lips. You watch him pretend to drink, your eyes lingering on the tea glistening on his lips as he lowers the cup.

“Don’t lick your lips,” you say quietly, not quite able to look away.

Tom’s other hand shifts slightly where it’s resting on the table between you, and the tea vanishes both from his lips and the cup. You give him another dry look. “Show off,” you accuse, smiling, “wandless and non-verbal, huh?”

“If you ask nicely, I’ll teach you how to do it,” he smirks.

You huff a laugh and slide Corpus Magikus back into your bag. “I should make my dramatic exit soon,” you say casually, finishing your toast and looking around the hall absently. “Perhaps we should have a fight first.”

“That would make it more convincing, yes,” he says delicately, still looking amused.

“What shall we fight about?"

Tom’s expression immediately cools and he leans in so close that you can see the patterns in his dark irises. “The content doesn’t matter,” he says smoothly, a glimmer in his eyes despite his utterly blank expression, “rather, the articulation.”

You hold his gaze for a second, fighting the urge to smile. You force yourself to stand suddenly, as if he’s said something of great offence. “I’ve never seen you so quickly converted to my opinion, Tom,” you say icily, leaning down to him over the table and hoping it looks like you’re angry.

“You made your argument very convincingly,” Tom says immediately, lifting his chin coolly.

“Actively demonstrating my point, I suppose,” you snap, standing straight. “I’m going to storm out now.”

“I’ll see you in class,” he says dismissively, pouring himself more tea.

You turn on your heel and leave, ignoring the curious eyes following you on your way out and not letting the smile break on your face until you’re well outside the Hall. Now all you have to do is wait.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Amelia Staghart,” Tom says in your ear before swiftly sitting down next to you in Potions that afternoon.

You raise a brow at him, watching as he arranges his Potions kit on the desk – Staghart is sitting a few desks behind you at that very moment and can most definitely see the both of you. “Are we no longer having a fight?”

“I grew tired of that pretence rather quickly,” Tom says curtly.

You smirk. “Did she talk to you?”

“Yes.” He looks decidedly irritated.

“A lot, huh.”

He shoots you a glare and you bite back another smile. “Are you going to report her then?” you ask, writing the date out on your parchment.

“No,” Tom says softly. You glance up curiously at his tone and find his dark eyes watching you write, before they flick up to yours. “I can think of a more pertinent retribution for her to endure,” he finishes quietly, not looking away.

“Retribution?” you echo, arching a brow with a slight smile. “And you accuse me of being theatrical.”

But Tom only leans closer and – to general astonishment – places a very gentle kiss on your cheek. His lips linger soft and warm on your skin for a moment as you’re frozen in place, staring at him as he slowly draws away an inch. His eyes roam your face as you blink in surprise, his lips curving into another humorous smile at your expression when there’s a sudden SMASH from behind you.

The entire class turns from where they’ve been staring wide-eyed at Tom’s display of affection to see Staghart’s inkwell knocked asunder on her desk, spreading black ink across the wood and dripping down to the floor, her eyes wide and her expression thunderstruck as she stares at you.

“Clean that up at once, Staghart!” Slughorn says disapprovingly as he strides into the room. “I certainly hope your clumsiness does not extend through today’s lesson – we’re brewing poisons today, class!”

Staghart goes red as the rest of the students titter and chatter, furiously glaring at the pool of ink dripping into her lap.

You glance at Tom and share a silent look of amusement before the two of you simultaneously turn back to your notes, still smirking.

#Tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #established relationship #ravenclaw reader #amortentia #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfic #harry potter #minific #retribution #prompt #Anon #gn reader

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nevermindirah · 3 years

Note

Do you have any thoughts on the use of AAVE for Nile (or lack thereof) in TOG fanfiction? I've been reading some Book of Nile fic and some writers seem to write her as a Millennial™ (using words like "fave" and "woke") but never acknowledge her Blackness in her patterns of speech. I know we don't see her use as much AAVE in the films, but I would argue she's in situations where code-switching would be valued (first in a "professional" environment in the army, then around a group of non-Black strangers).

Hi anon! I have many thoughts on this and I'm honored you asked me! But I should start by saying I'm white and any thoughts Black fans and especially Black American fans have on this that they want to share would be beyond lovely. (I'm not gonna tag anybody bc that feels rude but please add onto this post if any of y'all see this and want to!)

The main reason I personally avoid AAVE for Nile in my own fics is because I'm not Black. But Nile-centric fics by Black writers tend to avoid using much of it too, at least from what I've noticed/understood, and my guess is it's largely for the reason you mention, that she's in situations that encourage code-switching.

In movie canon Nile is highly competent at tailoring her language to each situation she finds herself in. This fantastic linguistics analysis meta shows how skillfully Nile chooses her vocabulary and grammar to meet her goals with different conversation partners in different contexts. In comics canon Nile had a bunch of different civilian jobs before joining the Marines, so she would've had experience code-switching in the ways that made sense for all those different contexts as well as the Marines and her family and high school and wherever else she spent her time before we met her. And now she's spending her time with a handful of immortals none of whom are native English speakers and a fellow Black American but one with a Queen's English UK accent whose professional experience is in the CIA where high-status code-switching is often an absolute must for success or even survival.

Fics featuring Nile are charged with extrapolating from that to how it might show up in her use of language that she's coping with a traumatic separation from her family and her career and pretty much everything she's ever known and now she needs to be able to make herself understood to people who seem to care about her and each other but are super duper in crisis, three (soon to be four) of whom predate Modern English entirely and the only one who's anywhere near her contemporary she's not supposed to talk to for a century. All of these people are telling her that pretty much any contact with any mortals poses an existential threat to her and the rest of the group. How the FUCK is she supposed to cope with that, like, generally? And would it be a more effective way for her to cope if she talked to Andy Joe and Nicky using the speech patterns that she used to use with her mom and brother, to at least retain that part of her identity even if it means having to do a lot of explaining, or would it meet her needs better to prioritize Andy Joe and Nicky understanding what she means with her words over using the particular words and grammar forms she used with her family?

I've seen several fics, both Nile-centric / BoN and otherwise, explore this a little bit in how/whether Nile uses Millennial™ speak. It's often a theme in Nile texting Booker despite the exile because of the popular headcanon that he as The Tech Guy is the only other immortal who understands memes. But Nile's much-younger-than-Booker mom probably uses Boomer and/or Gen X memes and Andy has been adapting to new communication styles for forever as evidenced by her canon high level of fluency with standard-American-accented English.

Which brings us back to people avoiding AAVE because they're not Black and they don't want to make mistakes (or they're not Black and they don't want to get yelled at for making mistakes, though I think many people overestimate how much they'll get yelled at while underestimating how much these mistakes can hurt). I can imagine some Black fans hold back from using much AAVE in fic because they don't want to share in-group stuff with white people who are likely to then adopt and ruin it, as white people so often do with Black cultural stuff. Some links about this including a great Khadija Mbowe video. I'm saying this gently, anon, because you might not know: woke, an example you cited as Millennial™ speak, is AAVE, and that's gotten erased by so many white people appropriating it and using it incorrectly online.

And also there's the part where fandom is a hobby and you never know when you're reading a fic that's the very first thing someone's ever written outside of a school assignment. This cultural considerations of language shit takes a level of effort and skill that not everybody puts into every fic, or even could if they wanted to because they haven't had time to build their skills yet. It's definitely easier for non-Black fans to project our millennial feels onto Nile than to do the layers of research and self-reflection it requires to depict what Blackness might mean to Nile, and it's not surprising that often people sharing their hobby creations on the internet have gone the easier route. There's not even necessarily shame in doing what's easier. It's just frustrating and often hurtful when structural white supremacy means that 3-dimensional Black characters are rare in media and thoughtful explorations of them in fandom are seen by the majority of fans as not-easy to make and therefore Nile Freeman, the main character in The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood, has the least fic and meta and art made about her of our 5 main immortals.

I've been active in different fandoms off and on for twenty years and I barely managed to write 5,000 words about Sam Wilson across multiple different fics in the 7 years since I fell in love with him. There's an alchemy to which characters we connect with, and on top of that which characters we connect with in a way that causes us to create stuff about them. Something about Nile Freeman finally tipped me over the edge from a voracious reader to a voracious writer. It's not for me to judge which characters speak to other individuals to the level of creating content about them, but I do think it's important for us to notice, and then work to fight, the pattern where across this fandom as a whole Nile gets way less content, and way less depth in so much of the content that's in theory about her, than any of these other characters.

Anyway, back to language. My two long fics feature Nile with several Black friends — Copley and OCs and cameos from other media — but all of those characters except Alec Hardison from Leverage aren't American. It's very possible I'm guilty of stereotyping Black British speech patterns in I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore. I watched hours and hours of Black haircare YouTube videos in the research for that fic and I modeled my OCs' speech patterns on what I heard from some of those YouTubers as well as what I've heard people like John Boyega and Idris Elba saying in interviews, but the thing about doing your best is you still might fuck up.

I'm slowly making progress on my WIP where Nile and Sam Wilson are cousins, and what ways of talking with a family member might be authentic for Nile is a major question I need to figure out. For that, I'm largely modeling my writing choices on how I hear my Black friends and colleagues talking to each other. I haven't overheard colleagues talking in an office in a long-ass time, but back when that was a thing, I remember seeing a ton of nuance in the different ways many of my Black colleagues would talk to each other. Different people have different personalities! And backgrounds! And priorities! A few jobs ago my department was about 1/3 Black and we worked closely with Obama administration staff many of whom were Black and there was SO MUCH VARIETY in how Black people talked to each other, about work and workplace-appropriate personal stuff, where I and other white coworkers could hear. There are a few work friends in particular who I have in my head when I'm trying to imagine how Sam and Nile might talk to each other. From the outside looking in, God DAMN is shit complicated, intellectually and interpersonally and spiritually, for Black people who are devoting their professional lives to public service in the United States.

One more aspect of this that I have big thoughts on but I need to take extra care in talking about is the idea of acknowledging Nile's Blackness in her patterns of speech. There's no one right way to be Black, and Nile's a fictional character created by a white dude but there are plenty of real-life Black Americans who don't use much or even any AAVE, for reasons that are complicated because of white supremacy. (Highly highly recommend this video by Shanspeare on the harms of the Oreo stereotype.)

Something that's not the same but has enough similarity that I think it's worth talking about is my personal experience with authenticity and American Jewish speech patterns. My Jewish family members don't talk like they're in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and I've known lots of people who do talk that way (or the millennial version of it), some of whom have questioned my Jewishness because I don't talk that way. That hurts me. Sometimes when another Jew tells me some shit like "I've never heard a Jew say y'all'd've," I can respond with "well now you have asshole, bless your Yankee-ass heart," because the myth of Dixie is a racist lie but I will totally call white Northerners Yankees when they're being shitty to me for being Southern, and this particular Jew fucking revels in using "bless your heart" with maximum polite aggression, especially with said Yankees. But sometimes I don't have it in me to say anything and it just quietly hurts having an important part of me disbelieved by someone who shares that important part of me. The sting isn't quite the same when non-Jews disbelieve or discount my Jewishness, but that hurts too.

Who counts as authentically Jewish is a messy in-group conversation and it doesn't really make sense to explain it all here. Who counts as authentically Jewish is a matter of legal status for immigration, citizenship, and civil rights in Israel, and it's my number 2 reason after horrific treatment of Palestinians that I'm antizionist. But outside that extremely high-stakes legal situation, it can just feel really shitty to not be recognized as One Of Us, especially by your own people.

It can also feel really shitty to be The Only One of Your Kind in a group, even if that group is an immortal chosen family who all loves each other dearly. Sometimes especially in a situation like that where you know those people love you but there are certain things they don't get about you and will never quite be able to. I'm definitely projecting at least a little bit of my "lonely Jew who will be alone again for yet another Jewish holiday" stuff onto Nile when at the end of I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore she's thinking about being the only Black immortal and moving away from the community she'd built with a mostly-Black group of mortals in that fic. Maybe that tracks, or maybe that's fucked up of me.

Basically, this got very long but it's complicated, writing about experiences that aren't your own takes skill which in turn takes time and practice to build, writing about experiences not your own that our society maligns can cause a lot of harm if done badly, it can also cause a lot of harm when a large enough portion of a fandom just decides to nope out of something that's difficult and risky because then there's just not much content about a character who deserves just a shit ton of loving and nuanced content, people are individuals and two people who come from the exact same cultural context might show that influence in all kinds of different ways, identity is complicated, language is complicated, writing is hard, and empathy and humility and doing our best aren't a guarantee of avoiding harm but they do go a long way in helping people create thoughtful content about a character as awesome and powerful and kind and messy and scared and curious and WORTHY as Nile Freeman.

#nile freeman #linguistics #TOG POC Love Fest #nileweek2021 #tog meta #tog #long post #mine #antiblackness #jewish things #hi i'm an antizionist jew no i don't really want to talk about it

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mustyrosewater · 3 years

Text

• 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧 || 𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙞 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙙𝙖 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ↠ NSFW

warnings ↠ swearing, bratiness, nsfw activites, s e x, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids) niki being a bit rough

word count ↠ 8,045 (i know right?)

synopsis ↠ after being caught in a restricted area during a race by niki lauda, he intends to make your life a living hell

your body flops onto the couch of your fathers study, your father who despite clicking away on his typewriter, still manages to look up at you and scrunch his face up at the sight of what you'd chosen to wear. even if he didn't say anything, you could tell by the look on his face that your clothing of choice was the reason.

looking up at the ceiling of your fathers study, delicate patterns painted into the white surface, providing a rather beautiful picture for you to stare at as you waited for her father to finally finish whatever work he was doing; eager to get on to the activities your family had planned. with little to no warning last night, your mother had poked her head into your room to let you know that you were being dragged along with your father and mother to the races tomorrow, the formula three out in london to be precise. being given little to no choice as to whether or not you'd be accompanying them, you thought it only fair you ignite your own small personal resistance by making sure to wear an outfit you know your father and mother would detest to no end. a lovely minidress, with earthy tones and patterns, accompanied with a dark brown of leather knee high boots, all topped with one of her most favorite fur coats. with an outfit like this, you knew your parents would be embarrassed to no end. they'd long given up on trying to control your behavior, quickly realizing that their daughter's continuous spouts of acting out were something they'd rather ignore than put effort into; a mindset that seemed to encourage you, while your parents only ignored you more. you'd be lying if you said that races didn't bring you a sense of wicked anticipation; it wasn't the sport that excited you in of itself, but the people you would encounter. you knew you had little interest in watching cars speed around in a circle over 70 times, you did however, have a very keen interest in racers and the people they encountered. it had not taken much longer of annoying your father before he caved and picked up his coat, eliciting an excited grin from his daughters face as you jumped up from the couch and practically skipped out to the car where your mother was already waiting for you both, applying powder to her face. perhaps in another world, a world where your parents weren't socialites who cared for nothing but the way they appeared to others, you wouldn't have been swept under the rug as the disappointment. maybe you would have gotten the attention you so craved as a child. swept out of your own thoughts as the car's engine sprung to life, it was not long before you were driving out of the painfully long driveway of the estate and in the direction of the location of the formula three race track. - the moment you opened the car door and exited, you could hear the sound of conversations and laughter within the crowds, accompanied by the sound of drills and tools in the background, no doubt racers making any last minute adjustments to their cars before it was time to go out onto the track. it hadn't taken long for your mother and father to begin mingling with friends of theirs, all while you stood on the sidelines, occasionally smiling politely and shaking hands of people who insisted they'd met you before at one of your parents many dinner parties, yet there were too many for you yourself to keep up with, especially when you normally spent them hulled up in your room desperately trying to escape any and all interactions. it was drawing on and on, slowly driving you crazy, you hadn't even been able to go to your seat yet, purely because your father was constantly getting distracted by people he knew, that or business partners. surprisingly enough, it was easier than you thought to slip away from your parents radar, simply taking a skillful hard left turn as they continued walking further into the crowd of people for them to converse with. a fate you were more than happy to avoid. looking around, you adjusted the brown tinted sunglasses hanging on your nose bridge, pushing them slightly further down so that you could scope out the area you'd managed to find yourself in. to be fair, you hadn't exactly known where you were going when you took that sudden left turn, only that you wanted to disappear from your parents view, a goal you had succeeded in, only to be set with another. find out where exactly you'd ended up. continuing further, you very quickly realized you'd turned directly into the racers area, hearing the sound of drills and tools in the distance, as well as the occasional chatter as men walked past you, offering no investigation as to who you were and why you were in this area. this didn't exactly surprise you, seeing as it was nowhere near abnormal for racers to gain a plethora of groupies. walking around all of the trailers, you couldn't help but peer your head around to stare at the cars within, your curiosity getting the better of you. it didn't take much longer before your snooping led you to a particularly interesting sight, a beautiful red formula vee, an expensive one at that. whoever it was who owned this machine most certainly did not spare any expense when it came to upgrades. reaching your hand forward, you hesitated, taking a moment to look left and right, ensuring that there was nobody around before you threw all caution to the wind, biting back a borderline shit eating grin before leaning forward to run your fingertips on the cars smooth surface. though expensive, you had to admire it, it was indeed a beautiful car, very well looked after. every gear was polished to perfection, it was clean as a whistle and every part of it was up to date; whoever owned this car wasn't just well off, they knew about what made a good working car. you were prepared to have the question of the cars owner remain one that was unanswered, you should have gone back sooner, even if your parents most certainly weren't missing you, the race was bound to start soon. "would you mind telling me what you're doing?" you never truly understood the phrase 'scared half to death' until now, feeling your heart jump to life, beating rapidly as you spun around to see the culprit to your near heart attack. quickly trying to gain your composure, you reached a hand to pull some of the hair that fell forward out of your face, steadying yourself and raising your eyebrows in some poor attempt to appear cool and collected despite the fact that the smirk this stranger wore most certainly met that he knew he had scared you and found it amusing. already drawn in by the appeal of the challenge her was proposing, you tilted your head and only mirrored his smirk; letting your head turn back down to the car, only just now noticing the name written on the middle in white writing. "niki lauda i'm guessing?" his response was only to raise his eyebrows, tilting his head and raising his arms out to gesture to himself in a way before crossing them promptly, only returning to the vaguely unimpressed look he was first wearing. you couldn't stand that look, it reminded you far too much of your father. "i can't imagine how you could have guessed." sarcasm dripped from his voice, along with an accent you couldn't quite pinpoint, you knew it was german, but you were unable to guess exactly where in germany. you wanted to pretend you were surprised that the person with one of the most well looked after cars was in fact german, yet you just couldn't. the fact that you'd been near his car without his permission or knowledge was definitely the main reason he seemed annoyed by your presence, however, it probably didn't help that you only let out a small chuckle and shrugged your shoulders, only seeming to antagonize him more. letting out a sigh, you took a moment to push your sunglasses back in front of your eyes, looking out back in the direction you came from before back at lauda, smirking and turning around without another word, making sure you made a show of flipping your hair back around. "where do you think you're going?" his tone didn't so much give off the vibes of authority, it was more of an actual question, as if he were in disbelief that after being caught red handed touching his car, you would just walk off. not bothering to turn around, your grin remained unseen by lauda as you held your hand up in a wave. "i'm going to watch the race." you said it as if it were a fact he was too ignorant to be aware of, stating it as if it were the obvious all in an attempt to annoy him more. "good luck out there!" you called, disappearing back around the corner before he could even have time to make up some smart comment. your quest to annoy lauda had very much succeeded, probably more so than expected as he shook his head watching you leave. and yet, the one other thing you'd done without even meaning to, was peak lauda's curiousity. - it wasn't difficult to find your parents again, they had finally made their way to their seats, and despite the amount of time you'd spent away, they didn't even seem to acknowledge you as you sat down beside them, eager to watch the race, which was only now beginning to get underway. you hadn't meant to, yet you found yourself looking out for that same red formula vee that you knew was lauda's. some weird interest you'd found in the man, especially the way he'd reacted to the way in you more than purposefully had been annoying him previously. it hadn't been much longer before the race had officially started; with a wave of the checkered flag, the cars were immediately off, speeding around with sharp sounds invading your ears each time they passed you and your family. by the time the fifth lap had gone by, you were well and truly bored. reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your saving grace, your packet of marlborough cigarettes; opening said packet and pulling one out to place it between your lips, reaching into your pocket to search for the lighter you were almost certain you'd placed in your pocket earlier. to your surprise, it was strangely absent from your pocket, only producing an annoyed sigh as you rolled your eyes. without a word, you reached for your fathers pocket, who either didn't notice you pulling out his lighter, or simply refused to acknowledge you; either way, you didn't complain as you finally lit up your cigarette, sucking in the ashy taste and holding it within your mouth as you pulled the cylinder away from your lips, blowing the smoke out in a small cloud in front of you which soon drifted off. - despite a major incident involving spinning cars and a few very close calls, you'd managed to sit through the rest of the race without any other distractions. you hoped that your wish of good luck to lauda was not the cause for him spinning out of control and ultimately losing to james hunt, yet you could never be too sure; though you hated to admit that the thought brought a chuckle out of you. even though you'd had fun teasing lauda, you were more than grateful that the race was finally over and that people were beginning to leave, meaning that hopefully soon, you would be as well. once again you found yourself standing behind your parents, taking little care to be subtle with your boredom, openly sighing and tapping your boot against the gravel in the hopes that this would speed them up; though this proved to be futile and frankly, you should have known better seeing as they had become impressively adept at ignoring your presence. the noise of their conversation seemed to slowly fade into nothing but muffled sounds in the background as you crossed your arms and looked around, taking the moment to begin people watching, even noticing as james hunt celebrated his win, briefly passing by just as him and his group popped open a bottle of champagne. as much as you saw the lifestyle racers seem to lead as a novelty, the accident that occurred today only reminded how dangerous of a sport it really was, men choosing to put their lives on the line for the sake of peoples entertainment? it was hard not to admire them, there was no arguing that they were good at what they did. you definitely didn't regret not seeing said accident produce any gruesome results; you'd only ever heard what had happened to racers in the past, men that were considered lucky to make it out with crippling injuries, because surely that was better than losing your own life right? that was a point that could be argued profusely; was the loss of quality of life really better the loss of a life all together? while you would have been happy to continue this solo conversation of ethics and virtues of life in your own head, you were ripped out of your own thoughts by the sound of your father once again noticing somebody he knew, yet this time, you could very proudly say it was somebody you yourself also knew, albeit you'd only known him for around three hours. "niki lauda! look at you! still going strong after a spin!"

your first instinct was to immediately turn your head sideways, hoping that he wouldn’t notice it was you, a feeble attempt to be honest, now you were suddenly finding reason to regret wearing such an eye catching outfit.

you could only just see out of the corner of your eye as lauda greeted your father fondly with a handshake, so far not looking over to you much to your relief.

continuing to watch as he also greeted your mother, any and all hopes of getting away from this without greeting lauda was squashed the moment your father gripped your upper arm, yanking you forward to come face to face with lauda.

“have you met my daughter, lauda?”

finally looking back ahead slowly, your eyes, covered by sunglasses thankfully, made facing lauda only slightly less intimidating.

in a moment of silence, the look on lauda’s face gave away the fact that he re’d recognized you instantly, the slight smirk on his face only you were able to catch as he looked at you as if to say “caught you.”

and yet, you had no idea why he suddenly looked back to your father, shaking his head and smiling.

“i can’t say i have.”

looking back at you, he leaned forward to grip your hand firmly, shaking it and stepping back as if you were poisonous to the touch. to be fair, you didn’t exactly blame him.

it seemed you weren’t the only one itching to end the interaction between the two of you, you father quickly grabbing lauda’s attention once more with a satisified hum, beginning to walk alongside lauda.

“you should come to my estate tonight for a drink, celebrate your close call eh?”

even you had to cringe at your fathers poor excuse to invite lauda over, you doubted he was feelign particularly good after that loss, yet any excuse for your father to mingle with those that could held him climb the social ladder.

once again trying your best to tune out the conversation as you walked behind them, your hearing still managed to pick up the result of your father pestering lauda despite his first three kind refusals.

with a sigh, seeming to actually put an effort into hiding his distaste with your fathers attitude, lauda offered a thin lipped smile.

“i suppose there’s no refusing this, is there.”

with an outright lack of awareness to lauda’s tone and even the way he was already treating this invitation like a chore, your father grinned and patted lauda on the back firmly with a laugh.

“no there is not my boy.”

as desperate as lauda seemed to get away from the conversation, he still took a moment to turn around, offering you and your mother an awkward smile, only to turn his attention briefly towards you and only you.

the look on his face couldn’t be described as anything but smug as he offered you a polite nod before walking off in the other direction without another word, leaving you standing there in an almost stunned state.

only to be taken out of said state as your father ordered you to get back in the car so that you could head back and be certain that the estate and ensure that i was prepared for lauda’s arrival.

as much as you’d protested against your father and begged your mother to let you just stay in your room for the rest of the night, you ultimately failed.

not even trying to hide the sour look on your face as you stood beside your mother at the entrance of your large home, you watched as the gate was opened for lauda’s car, which came running into the driveway slightly faster than you thought was reasonable.

you would have been content for the incident with the car to be and you and niki lauda’s interactions, if you had known you would be forced to sit in his company with your parents, you most definitely would not have been so snarky about touching his car. especially not walking off without a word.

no doubt firm on keeping their image at least slightly reasonable, your previous outfit had quickly been abandoned, instead being forced to change into a simple mini dress with black stockings and shoes. a painfully simple outfit. and an uncomfortable one at that.

this was made clear by the way that you were constantly shifting in the dress, attempting to roll your shoulders and cringing when the fabric allowed little to no movement. this was only responded to by your mother scolding you under her breath as lauda exited his car.

no longer in his baby blue racing suit you’d seen him in up to this point, he had abandoned it for a smart looking button up shirt and blazer, paired with jeans and dress shoes.

it was admittedly an odd sight, not just for lauda, but in general it was an odd sight seeing racers in normal clothes compared to the suits they so often wore.

watching as your father greeted lauda enthusiastically, then your mother, you could hardly hide the fake nature of your smile as you once again extended your hand to lauda without a word.

in some odd way, lauda seemed to be amused with your nature towards him. after all, he knew full well that he’d well and truly caught you out. now it was the two of you playing a waiting game to see who was going to break first.

the drink that your father mentioned passed by smoothly enough, all four of you in your fathers study as lauda and your father sipped at scotch and spoke about a multitude of boring topics that you couldn’t bother to engage yourself apart from the occasional hum of acknowledgment when your father briefly included your opinion into the conversation.

choosing instead to actively depart yourself from their presence, you pretended to be enthralled in a book as you sat across from lauda, a large coffee table separating the couches you sat on.

every now and then, your curiosity would gain the upper hand as you found your eyes flashing upwards to try and catch a not so sneaky glance at lauda.

every single time without failure, lauda’s eyes were on you, staring you down as if you were a deer in headlights.

his stare was similar to the feeling you got when sitting in front of a fire for a little bit too long, uncomfortable and making you feel far too warm. it was as piercing as the rest of his personality was.

you had thought yourself to be a tough person, you’d gotten in scuffles with other kids as a child in school, and you’d been the type to graze your knees and get up as if it were nothing; but niki’s stare glaring upon you constantly eventually proved to be too much for even you to handle.

finally unable to take it any longer, you stood up without a word, seemingly alerting niki as you could see his eyes widen slightly before maintaining his poker face.

your parents were also visibly surprised as your mother jumped softly, placing a hand daintily over her heart as your father turned away from niki to look at you, a brief warning expression lacing his features, as if to say

“don’t you dare ruin this for us.”

you seemed to almost relieve him with your next question, not being able to bring yourself to look over at niki as you held your arms firmly to your sides.

“may i be please be excused, i’m tired.”

the warning previously on your father shifted into an odd look of surprise as his brows furrowed; you had no doubt this was due to the fact that not only did you ask something politely, but that your tone had no inch of sarcasm whatsoever.

the shock seemed to take his voice away as he only nodded, watching as you turned and began to walk out of the study.

“don’t be rude, aren’t you going to say goodnight to our guest?”

you wouldn’t be surprised if the way you tensed up at the sound of your fathers words was visible to all in the room; this was confirmed even more so when you turned slowly and saw niki’s expression as he still sat on the couch smirking once more.

only nodding your head, you took a few steps and held out your hand awkwardly for him to shake.

“goodnight, mr lauda.”

the stiffness of your voice only made the interaction more awkward as you stood there waiting for him to shake your hand.

you were unable to see your parents in the corner of your eye, but you held little doubt that they were cringing as if at any moment your real personality was going to jump out and ruin any chances they had of getting into lauda’s good books and they would have lost an influential friend.

rather, they, your mother especially were shocked, yourself included when rather than simply shake your hand, niki gripped it softly, bringing it towards his lips to kiss the back of your hand softly, his eyes never leaving your own.

you were unsure if this was his odd version of rubbing it in, or he simply wanted to embarrass you in front of your parents as he pulled his lips away, running his thumb along your knuckles slowly as he smirked up at you.

though anybody not aware of your current little game (if you could even call it that) would perceive it as a friendly smile of niki’s part.

“please, call me niki.”

you could strangle him right in that moment, god you wanted to, wipe that stupid little smirk off of his face if your parents were not watching your every move.

as soon as you felt his grip loosen, you were unable to stop yourself from ripping your hand from his own. god his hands were warm.

“goodnight.. niki..”

you hadn’t meant for your voice to shake, but it still did, and it annoyed you to end as his smirk only widened at this. you'd be lying if you said that the moment you turned you hadn't looked like you were practically running away. even as if walked down the hall and up the stairs towards your bedroom, you could hear your father apologizing profusely for your rudeness, only to hear niki brushing it off politely. - that had happened a week ago, and as much as you wished you could say that was the last you'd seen of niki lauda for a long while; that was hardly the case. in fact, it was the polar opposite. you couldn't tell whether or not he was doing it to annoy you or because he actually enjoyed the company of your father, but if you weren't aware enough of your fathers skill when it came to hosting guests, you would have actually been dumb enough to say that it was indeed the latter. it was in fact painfully obvious to you that lauda's continued appearances within your household as a guest of your father were done with nothing other than the intention to spite you. though what was finally the cherry on top, what was starting to make you wonder if he actually did find genuine enjoyment in spending time with your parents or if he just really, really enjoyed making you suffer. he had invited your parents to a party to celebrate one his most recent wins which they had also dragged you along to come and watch. and of course, he made sure to extend the invitation to you. "should she wish to come along." he'd said, as if he didn't know that your parents were going to drag you along anyway. it was for that reason now you were sitting in front of your vanity, trying not to cringe as your mother pulled and teased your hair, styling it into a small beehive, seemingly at the request of your father, no doubt wanting all of you to look your very best, considering this was yet another chance to mingle and make new, rich friends. sat in a mini dress with long bell sleeves, its paisley patterns reminding you of so many other items in your wardrobe; all finely paired with a pair of brown platfrom knee high boots and a fur coat. it was fucking uncomfortable. your feet were already hurting, and the length made you second guess how much of your ass could be seen every second and this hairstyle was going to be a bitch to take out later. as much as you would have been more than happy to outwardly complain, you were simply too sick of it to even try. sick sick of your parents, sick of it all. maybe tonight you could even do the mature thing and finally apologize to lauda; yet, you couldn't tell whether or not it was actually going to bring an end to lauda's games with you, he seemed to be enjoying it too much. - after a vaguely long car ride, you finally arrived at what you quickly realized was lauda's house, you could already see people on the balcony chatting away and you could hear music playing from inside. exiting the car and shutting the door behind you, you quickly trotted to catch up with your parents who were already walking over the door by the time you'd gotten out; in the back of your mind, you gave a silent prayer that you'd be able to sneak away at some point and find your own space, hopefully even get a chance to have a smoke if you found a quiet enough corner. opening the door and heading inside, your parents were instantly enthralled with the music and sheer amount of people in lauda's house, all nursing champagne and chatting away; already you could tell they couldn't wait to join. keeping your eyes peeled for lauda, it didn't take long for your parents to lose you in the crowd; you would have laughed if it didn't happen so often, and you couldn't exactly say you minded anyway. it only took another minute or so of moving through people to find the balcony you had seen upon exiting the car. making a beeline for it, you stepped out and enjoyed the slightly fresher air, breathing a sigh of relief as you were no longer squished in between groups of people to such an intense degree. reaching for your packet of cigarettes and taking one out to place in between your lips, you had only just begun to reach for your new lighter when you had to cut your relief short. "that's quite a sour face to wear at a party, no?" you didn't even hide the disappointment on your face as you turned to face lauda, rolling your eyes. you were well past hiding your distaste for him. now you'd had more than enough time to realize it was very much your own fault, you'd given him a reason to annoy you when you'd not only leaned on his car and then given him an attitude, but had you known that wasn't the only time you'd see him, you would have at least been nicer about it. noticing your expression, he placed a hand over his heart mockingly and let out a hurt sound. "if looks could kill." his smirk was ever present, digging into your nerves like nails against a chalkboard as you placed your hands in your pockets, not saying anything as you kept your cigarette placed between your lips, hoping that just maybe, you'd have a break from him, obviously a stupid hope. only raising his hand, you quickly noticed the lighter in his hand, ignited and placed at the end of your cigarette. out of reflex, you inhaled, reaching up to place the paper cylinder between your fingers and pulling it away from your lips, blowing the smoke out of the side of your mouth. it wasn't until you took a slightly closer look at the lighter that you realised. your lighter. he had your lighter, the one you'd lost the first time you met. you wanted to mentally slap a hand on your forehead then and there, of course you'd left it, only for him to find. holding out your hand expectantly, he pulled it away before you could grasp your lighter, going so far as to mock you as if you were a child with a small "ah ah ah" painfully reminded of your time in school as a small child, you huffed and rolled your eyes, reaching for it once more only for it to be pulled from your gasp once more. "come now, you know the magic word, yes? you learn this in school, little girl?" his mocking toned was worsened as he leaned down slightly to talk to your at your level, only resulting in you placing a hand on your hip an glaring up at him. this look only worsened his stupid grin as he raised his eyes brows, waiting for you to say said magic word. putting on your best sarcastic smile, you made your voice as annoying as you could possibly muster, shaking your head as you spoke. "please?" you extended it slightly, as if you were a child asking for their toy back. and as laced with sarcasm as it was, he still responded with a loud "wunderbar!" raising his arms up slightly as if he were celebrating. finally handing you your lighter, you snatched at it, placing it back in your pocket and reaching up to take another inhale of your cigarette as you glared up at him. shaking his head, lauda's gaze paired with that signature smirk stared down at you as he looked at you almost in an odd sort of admiration. "you're a real brat, you know this?" you most definitely couldn't lie, that was not the first time you'd been given that title; countless times actually, school teachers, your parents, relatives, even ex partners. it was now your turn to wear a smirk as you raised your eyebrows, raising your hands up in defense. "i can't lie." you spoke, tilting your head and shrugging your shoulders. your response, for the first time, seemed to catch lauda off guard, possibly expecting you to have defended yourself rather than embrace the title. "maybe i like being a brat, lauda." you narrowed your eyes, proud of yourself for finally seeming to put a chip in this mans ego. his eyes only narrowed in return, his face taking on a new expression that couldn't quite be place as you took another drag of your cigarette, really nailing in your point hard as you blew the smoke right in his face with no hesitation and a smirk as you placed your thumb between your teeth, grinning. "how many times have i told you to call me niki?" his tone was darker this time, more authority slipping against his words. you wanted to blame being caught up in the moment or finally being able to break this mans cocky exterior, but something about the tone of his voice and the way he spoke to you, it produced butterflies within your stomach that you tried with all of your might to ignore. tilting your head, you took a step forward to ensure he would hear you over the music as you lowered your voice, leaning in slightly. "or what?" even if somebody were unable to hear your expression, they'd be able to hear the smile in your voice. shifting your weight from foot to foot, you kept eye contact with niki as you leaned back, his eyes not leaving yours for one moment, narrowed at you, making you think for a solid moment of two that he was genuinely angry at you. without any sort of warning or sign, lauda's hand lurched forward, gripping your wrist, not so tightly that it hurt, but most certainly enough to get your attention as he pulled you towards him, so close that your chests were touching as he looked down at you. "watch that tone with me." his growling voice was most certainly affecting you as he seemed to recognize that the both of you were getting very invested in whatever the fuck dynamic you had created. as invested as he was, in an odd way, you could still see in his eyes he was watching for any signs of making you uncomfortable, almost as if he was telling you he'd stop the moment you were uncomfortable. "and if i dont? are you going to bend me over your knee?" you leaned in slightly as you teased him, so much so that you bet he could smell the smoke on your breath as neither of you broke eye contact. whether it was the image of you bent over his knee or the fact that you had only continued to tease him you didn't know; what you did know however, was that that was the last straw for him as he kept his grip on your wrist. wasting no time leading you back inside, barely giving you time to flick your cigarette off of his balcony before you were weaving through crowds of people, almost tripping over your own platform boots as you were led wherever he was planning on taking you. obviously knowing his own house like the back of his hand, it didn't take long for the two of you to arrive where you were heading. his bedroom. quickly opening the door and shoving you in lightly, he shut it behind him, not even hiding the slam as he turned to face you, his eyes still dark as you stood there, still smirking and biting your lip. "wasn't sure whether or not i'd be able to get a rise out of you, glad i know no-" your words were cut up by him quickly walking towards you and gripping your chin with his large hand, squeezing your cheeks together slightly as he other hand gripped your wrist once more. "you've been nothing but a little brat since the moment i met you, it seems to me you must like pissing me off. is that it? you like knowing how much you make my cock hard when you prance around in those little skirts and give me backchat?" his tone alone was already enough to only widen your grin, but the things he was saying were adding to the butterflies in your stomach. determined not to give up your attitude just yet, you let go of any and all control you'd been holding onto, reaching forward to clamp your hand onto his thigh, dangerously close to where you could already see an outline forming. his only response to your touch was a sharp intake as his eyes closed momentarily, only to snap back open as he shoved you backwards, briefly scaring you before you fell back onto his bed. looking up at him as he stood above you, his legs touching your knees, you could see how his chest rose and fell with every deep breath he took. his eyes raked over your body, observing every part of where your dress rode up, and then back up to meet your gaze, only to begin undoing the statement buckle on his belt, once again watching you for any signs of being uncomfortable as he continued. only widening your smirk, he seemed to get the message as he completely discarded the belt on his rug floor. as he began to fiddle with the button and zipper on his jeans, he leaned forward to land on his knees on the bed, above you and staring you down. "as much i'd love to play with you until your crying and screaming my name, i need to bury myself in that pretty little pussy of yours." his voice was breathy as he leaned forward, using his knee to push your legs apart, your mini skirt already riding up enough for him to get a full view of your underwear. you couldn't find it in yourself to say anything else, already convincing yourself that this was all some sick dream of yours and now you were going to wake up no longer able to look niki in the eye. his lower half disappeared from your view as he finally put weight on top of you, through you could still hear the fabric of his jeans shifting as he settled in between your legs. even through the fabric separating the two of you, you both shivered when you felt your hips make contact, letting out shaky breaths as you looked up at him and he looked down at you. as much as you expected him to take things at least slightly slow, he did the opposite, wasting no time as he moved your own fabric to the side, only sliding his tip along your entrance softly in order to brace yourself and give you another chance to stop him if you had changed your mind. only placing a hand on his cheek and nodding quickly, did he respond with a similar nod before entering you quickly and with little no mercy. you were unable to stop yourself from leaning for head back and crying out loudly, only for niki's hand to clasp over your mouth as he looked down at you. "i know the music is loud, but i need you to, oh sheibe-" he cut himself off by inhaling sharply, groaning softly and shutting his eyes as he began to move inside you, his hips rotating ever so slightly as they moved back and fourth, only resulting in you moaning into his hand. "i know the music is loud, but i need you to be quiet for me, can you do that?" his voice was so low it was almost coming out as a growl as he continued to thrust into you as he spoke, trying not to keep groaning in between his words as he shut his eyes tightly and cursed in german once more. you couldn't like, he was a stretch for you, there was pain at first but it had quickly begun shifting into pleasure as he continued and you became more used to the way he felt inside you. you knew there was an element of time involved lest he be missed at his own party, god forbid one of the guests go looking for him especially seeing as you were almost certain that door hadn't been locked. continued to thrust, his hands found there way on your back as he rose to his knees, taking you with him and sitting you on his lap, forcing you to wrap your arms around his neck for support as he effectively began to bounce you on his cock. the only thing you were able to do to stop your whimpers and moans from being heard was to bury your head in his neck, his head turning slightly to the side to bury itself in your hair. beginning to help him out slightly by bouncing yourself on his lap, you felt your hips beginning to cramp and ache but brought yourself to ignore the pain as it was currently outweighed by the sheer amount of pleasure you felt as he fucked you. growling into your hair, you felt his head move back so that he could begin leaving love bites on the parts of your neck that weren't covered by your dress; you couldn't even pay attention to the fact that you would have to walk back out into that party with love bites for all to see, your parents especially. part of you just hoped there would be no way to link them back to niki. picking up speed, you began to bounce faster on niki's lap as he too began to go faster, feeling the muscles within your stomach starting to tighten as rationality left your body and adrenaline took over. in that moment, nothing felt more important than chasing your high, knowing it was only on the horizon. it seemed niki was feeling the same way as he growled deeply, pulling his head away to look into your eyes as he gripped your hips and slammed them against his own with little to no mercy, caring little for the bruising that would no doubt be left over the next day. it hadn't taken much more of this for you be a whimpering mess, feeling yourself tighten quickly around niki's cock, only to begin hearing the sloppy sounds of your wetness slapping while niki still continued to essentially jackhammer into you, still chasing his own high. as you began to come down from your orgasm, the sensitivity of niki still fucking you relentlessly had you whimpering and panting as you once again buried your head in his shoulder, trying to remain as quiet as you could, though this was proving to be a difficult task. it wasn't long before you felt niki twitching from inside you, only to followed by the hot feeling of him cumming deeply inside you, his own deep and guttural moans releasing from his throat, cutting themselves off occasionally as he twitched and leaned his head back, his mouth hanging open as he shut his eyes. collapsing backwards, niki fell on top of you, panting with his brown curly locks sticking to his forehead as he laid his head on your chest. post orgasm high, you both seemed to let reality hit you as you looked at each other, realizing you'd both been missing from the party for longer than you thought, exchanging no words apart from a few worried sounds of alertness as you scrambled off of one another, quickly righting yourselves. it had only taken another two minutes or so to appear semi inconspicuous as you finally made your way back to his door, bracing yourselves before opening it and stepping out, only to see your parents walking towards you, quickly spotting you and calling your name. "where have you been? we've been looking for you everywhere, have you seen niki? he went missing an-" before you could even try to find a valid explanation, through they hadn't seemed very concerned for you and more so for niki's whereabouts, you felt niki walk up behind you, leaning against the door frame and greeting your parents. "she got lost." he began, placing a hand on your shoulder, cool as ever, as if minutes ago he hadn't just been fucking your brains out. "i was showing her photos from past races. lets get a drink, yes?" quickly deflecting from any questions they may have as to why you both just exited his bedroom, niki began to lead them to where they could get a drink, leaving you, shaking your head at the fact that they actually fucking bought that. - it was hours later that the party was actually beginning to wrap up, drunken people being led back to taxi's and niki saying goodbye to guests as the music had now stopped and there had been one to many neighbourly complaints. you were unsure whether or not you should try to go and say goodbye to niki, post sex clarity was no proposing a very awkward question as to where the fuck that had left the two of you now; you weren't even afraid to admit that the idea of having any other interaction with niki from this point forward scared the fuck out of you. one could argue that it was all spur of the moment, and you hadn't really had time to communicate whatsoever afterwards, distracted by the fact that you were scrambling to get your clothes back on. you weren't even sure yourself what you wanted it to be, it felt more like a situation of you didn't want to find out. and yet, once again, your wishes were ignored by whatever higher power was controlling things, because as you were walking back to the car with your parents, still trying to make any sort of sense of what had transpired, you heard the voice behind you calling after your parents. turning, you placed your hands in your pockets as you watched niki wish your parents a goodnight, letting your mother kiss him on the cheek as well as let your father give him a firm handshake as thanks occurred. he looked over at you only briefly, his eyes and expression next to unreadable as he quickly looked back at your parents, offering to walk them to their car. turning around quickly, you began to walk quickly to the car, unfortunately slowed down by your boots as your parents soon overtook you, leaving you and niki almost side by side behind them. though neither of you said anything, your eyes widened when you felt his hand fall on your lower back, then soon to your backside, giving it a squeeze that made you jump slightly, turning your head to look at him with an annoyed and wide eyed look, only to once again be met with that same fucking smirk. as you finally caught up with your parents, they only turned as niki pulled his hand away, thankfully missing the fact that he'd done that as they thanked him for a good night. opening the car door, you were immediately met with a sharp look from your father. "maybe you should say goodnight to niki, seeing as he was so generous as to extend the invitation to you." your father said slightly under his breath in a warning tone, only to turn back to niki. "sorry, she can be such a little brat sometimes." by the look on niki's face, you could see him holding in a smirk as he shook his head dismissively and waving his hand. "ah, its fine. i don't mind at all." he finished his sentence by wishing you a goodnight, only now extending the smirk to you as you stared back at him for a moment, slightly still in shock that your parents could be just that clueless. "goodnight, niki." you finally said, wasting no time getting in your seat and shutting the door.

#daniel brühl #Daniel Bruhl #daniel bruhl x reader #niki lauda #niki lauda rush #niki lauda x reader #niki lauda smut #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo smut #daniel bruhl smut #goodbye lenin #the alienist #ladies in lavender #rush 2013 #rush

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gallavichprompts · 2 years

Text

Gallavich ‘Meta’ March

A Gallavich-themed trope challenge for March (or whenever you’d like to take part!) If you are new to writing or a writer who’s trying to get back into the swing of things - why not try writing some meta? (And you don’t have to be a writer, this is really a challenge that’s open to everyone!)

So, what does “meta” mean?

Fanlore:

In fandom, meta (also meta essay) is used to describe a fan-authored piece of non-fiction writing discussing any aspect of fandom, fanworks, or the source text. This can include discussing characters and their motivations, fanfiction tropes and trends, fan activity, particular plot elements, choices by canon creators, alternate possibilities for canon and much more.

Meta [is] a blanket term to include things like headcanon, ship manifestos, theories, and character analysis.

Fandom talking about itself or its interests in a thoughtful way is the best description we can come up with. When it comes to intention, pretty much anything that isn't fictional or conversation would count. Meta can be very long (even a series!) or it could be just a few paragraphs.

Meta is thoughtful, respectful discourse and analysis about characters and storylines. It is a thought, or a series of arguments with examples of the character’s actions that helped you draw a specific conclusion OR an analysis of the situation that you’ve focused on. Anything with detail, evidence, and explanation is a meta discussion.

What’s the challenge?

With 11 seasons and over 14000 fics on ao3, there’s a lot to discuss when it comes to Ian and Mickey and their relationship. So, whether it’s a topic or idea that’s been discussed many times before or something that hasn’t been analysed quite as much - try writing some meta!

It’s a casual challenge meant to encourage people to get writing more or try writing a different format. There’s no set time to submit fics, or a limit to how short (a paragraph) or long (an essay) the work can be. You can share your work anytime in or after March - tag it with #gallavichmetamarch and @gallavichprompts.

And don’t forget meta can be very casually written. There’s a lot of amazing meta that people put in the tags of posts that they may not realise is meta or may not feel confident sharing, but just know that you can and people would love to read it. You could even just share questions or ideas you think other people might like to explore.

There’s a list of Gallavich meta prompts under the cut, rounded up from previous prompt posts, as well as some new prompts!

Three lovely people who have written some excellent meta have very kindly shared some quotes:

@gallavictorious - “Sometimes you sit down with a finished observation or theory and you put that into words because you want to share it with others. But sometimes you only have this vague notion – something that tugs at you, an inconsistency or contradiction or hole in the text – and then the very act of writing becomes the act of exploration: as you put the words down, new ideas suddenly occur to you, new patterns become visible. By hashing it out on the page, you hash it out in your mind. Then you release it into the wild, and in the best of worlds someone pick up your tentative thoughts and take them further.

This process of shared discovery and discussion is what I love most about meta; I think that some people see excessive meta-ing as a compulsive need to explain away any and all inconsistencies in the text, but for me it’s not a pursuit born of frustration, but of curiosity and joy and a lust to engage with the text. For me, meta is an (often) intellectual game but it’s also, and more importantly, play: let’s pretend that all this is real. Let’s do it because it’s more fun if we do.” (meta)

@dreamylyfe-x - “When I finished binging Shameless and picked up the show live I was SO hungry to talk about it. I had this deep, insatiable thirst that fic couldn’t touch and the only thing that satisfied was reading meta. I just wanted to know what people THOUGHT. Really great meta reveals something you didn’t notice or think of. It brings a different perspective to the whole thing. It points out patterns, observes new details, or breaks down fandom ideas that maybe don’t have the deep roots you think they do. I love to write meta about Mickey and Ian because I love these characters down to their atoms. I am interested in the most granular details. So much of this story is in the subtext and meta is where you find people discussing that. One of my favourite things about this fandom is how deep people here go.” (meta)

@whaticameherefor - “I love reading and writing meta because there is so much to explore within these characters and storylines that simply wasn't addressed or presented as best as it could have been in the show. Especially with characters like Ian and Mickey who either hold things so close to the chest or need to present a false front -- it's really fun to get into their heads, figure out why they may have done something or what their thoughts were during a certain moment. Meta can help bring a better understanding of two people often misunderstood. I also really love the sharing of opinions and ideas. The sort of validation you feel when you see someone think the same way as you, or the lightbulb moment when reading someone else's meta like, "Wow, I've never thought about that before!" It's just another level of loving and appreciating these characters and their love story. I love meta!” (meta)

Resources:

@you-are-so-much-better-than-that - Shameless Timeline

Ian Gallagher - Shameless Wiki

Mickey Milkovich - Shameless Wiki

Fanlore - Fandom Wiki for everything fandom related e.g. tropes, genres

Gallavich Meta Prompts - Part 1 // Part 2

What underrated tropes/genres would you like to see more of in Gallavich fanfic?

Do you have any headcanons about Mickey’s mother? What impact do you think she had on his life?

Are there any moments/scenes that you feel aren’t discussed or explored much when it comes to Ian and Mickey and/or their relationship?

What kind of relationship do you think Mickey has with his siblings post-finale?

When do you think Ian and Mickey realised they were in love with each other?

Do you think Ian stays working security with Mickey post-finale or do you think he decides to try a different job?

What kind of conversations do you think they had in early seasons that we didn’t see in canon?

Do you think they see themselves as best friends?

What things do you think they have learned from each other over the course of their relationship?

What songs or music do think worked well for their scenes? Or what songs or music do you think would have worked better?

How you think Ian and Mickey express themselves through their clothing/style?

Which serious issues do you think the show failed to explore when it comes to Ian and Mickey and/or their relationship?

How do you think Ian and/or Mickey see themselves at the beginning of the series versus the end? How have their opinions of themselves changed over time?

Which reunion do you think is the most important to them?

What sort of parallels do you see across the series - could be in terms of their behaviour, or their emotions, or things that happen to them?

Are there any underrated lines of dialogue or non-verbal actions that you think should be explored more? (Think about looking at gifsets and edits, you never know what you might not have noticed before that could be interesting!)

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #shameless #gallavich meta #challenge #metamarch #gallavichmetamarch #meta #prompt

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

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Bite

Pairing: Vamp!Lisa x Human!Fem!Reader

AU: Vampire

Word Count: ~ 5,564

Warnings / Misc. -- Mentions of Blood

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm alive! School has kept me crazy busy and I've had my hands full with other things as well, but I finished writing this one and I wanted to share with you lovely peeps. To everyone who stopped by to check in, and to those of you who’ve been patiently waiting, thank you endlessly. I love having you as my readers 💜

PS ~ I hope this isn't too bad for my first one shot in forever! Also, happy Lisa era. I’m so proud of our girl!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Saturday, October 31st

You look like an idiot.

The nurse uniform you have on is obnoxiously cliché; short and tattered in various places to really sell the "sexy" aspect of it, little is left to the imagination. Fake blood stains dot the flimsy material in random patterns and mat some strands of the tacky blonde wig atop your head, making you look like something out of a B-movie at best.

A bonafide, absolute idiot.

When you express that sentiment to your best friend, she just rolls her eyes and holds out one last costume for you to try on. She had a few lined up in case you didn't like her other options, and clearly that's come in handy; you've already worked through the previous picks, so she crosses her fingers as your eyes skim over this one.

"Humor me, will you?" She asks, hoping that you'll give in and at least check this last one out.

"Fine, but this is your last chance. It had better be good." You raise a pointed finger at her in warning.

"I have a good feeling about this one," she says, smiling as you take the bag from her and slip into the dressing room one final time.

Her phone chimes soon after, and she's quick to retrieve it from her pocket.

Willow: Are you guys almost here?? Jackson's been asking about you.

Your best friend bites her lip at that, nervously nibbling on it as she rereads the message to make sure she didn't imagine the last part. She's liked Jackson since middle school, and he'll be swinging by the party that you've all been invited to; that's one of the main reasons she begged you to come with her tonight.

Y/BFFs/N: Still getting ready. We'll be there ASAP tho!

Willow: Alright, we'll see you soon. Don't take all night, or else👩🤛

Y/BFFs/N: Yah, cut the violence!

The sound of your best friend's soft giggling fills the air just as you manage to fasten the costume's last zipper and pull its hood over your head.

Surprise etches its way into your features as you do a spin, taking in the sight of yourself through the full length mirror of the dressing room. The outfit's red and black color schemes complement each other beautifully, giving you a powerful and sensual appeal that the other costumes didn't even stand a chance of doing. You look alluring in every sense of the word.

"Holy shit," your best friend says when you emerge, striking a pose. "You look hot!" She squeals, clapping a few times in quick succession.

There's no way you think this one looks bad.

"I think Wanda would be proud," you grin, tilting your head up and wrapping the cape around your neck.

"One hundred percent," Y/BFFs/N nods adamantly, in total agreement. The Scarlet Witch getup really compliments your features.

"Now," she starts, changing topics as she looks in the reflection of her phone's dark screen to adjust some of her hair that's gone astray. "Let's pay and then go. Willow's looking for us, and my future man's wondering where I am, too."

"Hell yeah!" You chuckle, patting her on the back. "I'll help you finally land him so you can stop pining."

You watch as she takes a moment to decide between coming up with a decent rebuttal to defend herself or agreeing with you, and you smile when she goes for the latter.

"I'd accept nothing less," she says, holding her head high like a princess. "You are my wingwoman, after all."

"And the best one in town," you add, tugging her towards the register. She reaches into her purse and pulls out the money to pay before politely handing it to the cashier.

The teenage boy takes it with a small smile, though the action looks a little comical as his upper lip gets caught on the cheap, plastic fangs he's sporting. His knock-off version of Dracula is definitely…. something… and you can tell that his managers forced him to wear it for the holiday.

"Come back and s-shhee us," he says, handing your change back. Your best friend takes it, failing to contain her laughter at his messy speech. He blushes crimson, likely cursing the plastic teeth for making him look a fool.

"We surely will," you respond, giving him a comforting smile to keep his embarrassment at bay. He nods gratefully, and you're quickly pulled out of the store by your best friend.

"Happy Halloween!" You shout over your shoulder, accompanied by the chime of the bell over the door.

"You too," he calls back, letting out a soft sigh.

---

20 Minutes Later -- The Party

Upon rounding the front of your car and stepping up onto the sidewalk outside of Willow's house, your attention is immediately caught by the numerous decorations that she put up last week.

"Huh," you mumble, gazing up at the skeleton that towers above you, standing 12 feet tall. "I think it's safe to say that this is her favorite holiday…"

"What makes you think that?" Your best friend plays, feigning ignorance as she pops up from behind a life-sized, animatronic Jason Voorhees.

"I don't know," you tut, admiring Willow's hard work a little longer. "Just a feeling."

Y/BFFs/N giggles in her unique way, making you smile at the sound as the two of you make your way up the path towards the house. You gaze down at your feet, careful to step on the stones of the walkway and avoid the motion-activated hands that scramble out of the weeds to grab unsuspecting guests.

Having known Willow your entire childhood, you've grown used to her ways.

*knock knock*

A strong, iconic synth bassline sounds off from inside, filling the otherwise quiet night around you with its catchy beat as you wait to be let in. Its sound is well known, and you almost instantly recognize it as "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics.

A few seconds later, you hear clambering from inside, followed by concerning groans and shouted apologies.

Y/BFFs/N arches a skeptical brow at you, perfectly mirroring your thoughts.

Directly after, the door swings open in a flash, and you're nearly tackled by a whizz of curly hair.

"There you guys are!" Willow shrieks, pulling the two of you close as she nuzzles her face against your cheeks.

"Yep, here we are," you struggle out, nearly being strangled in her tight grip. She responds by squeezing you even tighter, blinded by her joy at seeing you again.

After all, it's been a while since all three of you have had the opportunity to spend the night partying together like this.

"Can't… breathe," Y/BFFs/N squeaks, successfully getting Willow to release you.

"Sorry," she apologizes, stepping back. "I'm just so happy you're here."

The freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose look especially adorable with the blush she's sporting, and her shy grin makes you forget about the near-fatality you just encountered moments before.

"We're happy to be here," you reassure her, returning her smile.

Your best friend agrees from beside you, nodding her head with a happy look of her own. "Believe it or not, we've missed your weirdness." She adds, cocking her head to the side.

Willow giggles again, and her eyes crinkle up into those half crescents that could surely melt even the iciest of hearts. She's practically sunshine in human form, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes.

"Yo, Willow! Who's at the door?"

Jackson.

You feel your best friend tense beside you, and you subtly pat her leg to calm her down.

Willow falls silent, though her lips go through the beginning stages of answering him; they open and purse, but she quickly halts her reply and shuts her mouth. She knows of Y/BFFs/N's crush on him, and she doesn't want to say the wrong thing.

Plus, if the lovesick girl wants to run and hide in the bushes, Willow's silence could buy her some time to slip away.

But alas, she doesn't.

Jackson appears in the doorway a mere 5 seconds after asking his question with a beer clutched in his hand. He moves to lean against the wooden frame as his pearly smile beams at you, and Y/BFFs/N audibly swallows at the sight.

For someone who's usually so confident, she can really be shy sometimes.

"Lovely to see you, ladies," he greets, putting his free hand in front of him as he bows. His accent is modeled after that of Jack Sparrow, as is his surprisingly well designed costume.

You nod back at him. "Hey, Jackson. Long time no see."

You elbow your best friend when she remains silent for a beat too long, and the action snaps her back to reality.

"Yeah, hey Jackson." Her voice is quiet -- she doesn't trust it to refrain from cracking.

He smiles, not failing to notice the nervous aura that's quickly taken over the girl beside you. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when he gives her a curious once-over, and you take that as your cue to save her from the impending embarrassment that's lurking just around the corner.

"Alright, guys!" You clap, stepping forward. "Let's get to partying."

Her shoulders relax, and you feel her slip her hand into yours as you enter the house, squeezing twice as a silent thank you.

15 Minutes Later

Willow stands beside you in the kitchen, mixing a few things together in one of the millions of red solo cups that she bought for tonight. You sneak a peek over her shoulder at the concoction, seeing its light blue color turn purple-ish as she adds a new liquor into the equation.

In comparison to typical house parties, this one is relatively small; most of the rooms are filled with people, but it's a comfortable amount. Maneuvering around the place is fairly easy, which is always a plus when you're coexisting with sweaty, drunk people.

"Willow, love, why did you buy so many cups?" You ask, toying with the ripped plastic packaging of one of the stacks.

"You know I like to be prepared," she laughs, brushing off her major miscalculation. "Plus I can just use the rest of them at my next party."

You nod, knowing she's right. "Are you having another soon?"

"I think so. Jiu and her crew are coming back in a couple weeks, so I thought I'd surprise them with one."

You scoff, humor laced in the sound. "What, they didn't get enough partying done at their university already?"

Willow turns around, grinning at you as she hands you your drink. "Evidently campus police keep a close eye on them. Siyeon whined about that a lot when she called me."

"Sounds like her," you chuckle into your cup as you take a sip.

PFFT

"Eww, Willow! What did you put in this?!"

Your spit take didn't land on anyone, thankfully, but it did capture the attention of some people nearby. You wave a hand at them as a silent apology, and they go back to their previous tasks.

The curly headed prankster covers her mouth, though the action does a terrible job of quieting her maniacal laughter.

"You're lucky Y/BFFs/N isn't over here," you say, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "She'd avenge me."

Willow uses a napkin to dab the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Why else do you think I waited until she was busy with Jackson?" She asks, motioning to her lounge room across the foyer.

You look inside, spotting Y/BFFs/N holding a pool cue in her hand as Jackson sinks another shot into one of the corner pockets.

The sight reminds you of the pep talk and 2 shots of liquid courage you gave her earlier, and how she disappeared with the promise to make a move and actually talk to him. Now, she looks completely absorbed in whatever banter they're sharing, and although your violated taste buds still ache from the sickly-sweet mixture that Willow made, you wouldn't want her to be anywhere else.

You can get your own revenge.

Sneaking a glance around the kitchen, you search for something to help with your retaliation. A small package of streamers lays abandoned on the island, forgotten to be put up earlier, and you slyly grin. Their ribbons sparkle with glitter, shimmering as the multicolored party lights stream in from the living room and land on them.

It's as if the universe is putting a spotlight on them, just for you.

After side eyeing Willow one final time to ensure that she isn't catching onto your plan, you act quickly. She stands beside the counter, right where you left her, and you dart to the island to grab the streamers. Your fingertips soon gain purchase on the packaging, and you tear it open in one swift motion.

Her gaze locks onto yours just as you near her, but it's far too late for her to get away.

"Take this!" You declare, upending the baggie atop her head. She shrieks as they cascade down her body, getting caught in the creases and wrinkles of her costume as they go. A small wave of glitter tumbles out of the bag as well, coating her hair and clothes.

Boy, that'll be fun to try and get out later.

Her head slowly raises once you finish your assault and place the baggie on the countertop beside you, but the look in her eye is unlike anything you've ever seen.

"You're dead," she warns. Just as the smile drops from your face, an even larger, more sinister one begins forming on hers.

The floor creaks beneath your feet slightly as you take a step back, and you know you have to high tail it out of there if you want to evade her.

"Catch me if you can!" You shout, springing into action. You turn around and dart out of the room, gliding past numerous partygoers in the hall.

Willow's choice of footwear works in your favor, you soon realize; the sharp rapping sound of her heels pierces the air behind you, serving as a tell of how much distance is between you.

Her unstable platforms buy you a little time, and you thank the universe as you rush through the living room and back towards the foyer. You plan to cut across it and hide out in one of the bathrooms until she drops her plan for revenge.

A grin pulls at your cheeks as you skid into one of the walls, looking like a character from Scooby-Doo as you will your feet to work correctly again and get you to safety. Willow laughs behind you, joining in on the fun.

"Perfect," you mutter under your breath, spotting a clear path through the foyer. It leads under the stairs, and you can see the open door of the bathroom from where you are.

Your feet take you past a handful of drunk people, bobbing and weaving through them with ease, before you're racing towards the restroom to take cover.

Before you can make it there, though, you collide with someone rather abruptly as they step straight into your path.

Your eyes shut tightly as you brace yourself for impact with the ground, but it never comes. The person reaches out and catches you before you can hit the floor, and a soft apology slips past their lips as they scoop you up.

Upon hearing that uniquely feminine voice speak its regret again, you peek your eyes open. What you see nearly makes the woman's effort to keep you upright moot; she's so gorgeous that your legs almost give out from underneath you.

Dirty blonde locks cascade over her shoulders in soft waves, half-mussed, half-pristine from your run-in. Her doe eyes are a velvety chocolate color, and you find yourself getting lost in them. Flickers of red show in them, illuminating almost rhythmically the longer she admires you.

Are those contacts? You ask yourself. They have to be.

She seems to be just as affected by your presence as you are of hers.

"Y/N, I'm coming to get you!"

Willow does her best to sound like a villain from a 90s horror film as she clambers her way closer to you, bumping into a few people on the way. You're brought out of your stupor by her rapidly approaching footsteps, and you take a step away from the woman. Her hands fall from your waist, where they had previously been resting.

Stealing a quick look at the bathroom, you feel your stomach turn.

Damnit. Someone's in there now.

Screw this sexy stranger for distracting you. Now you'll have to deal with Willow's wrath.

"What's wrong?"

There's that voice again.

Part of you wants to brush it off and slip away quietly, but an even bigger part of you is determined to stay where you are and tell her. Something about her pulls you in, and you're having a hard time denying it.

"I need to hide. I glitter-fied my friend and now she's coming after me."

The woman's plump lips pull back in a humored smile, and she nods as a chuckle leaves her. "Right," she says, like that's a common occurrence. "I can help, if you'd like."

"How?" You ask, your brows momentarily knitting together in confusion. When she unties and opens the black cloak that's wrapped around her body, your breath catches.

"You in?" She asks, side eyeing the foyer as Willow nearly careens into the Egyptian vase that her mother bought her last year for Christmas.

You take a deep breath and hold your hand out to her just as Willow rounds the corner, and she swiftly pulls you in close before you can be spotted. She winds the cloak around both of your bodies, concealing your faces as the fur-lined hood falls atop your heads.

Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her flush up against you to further ensure your safety. She quietly grunts when she stumbles over her own feet, falling into you a little.

"Sorry," she whispers, though her third apology of the night is unnecessary. You almost want to thank her for what happened.

Especially when her warm breath fans across your right cheek, where her head is angled.

Every breath you take pushes you closer to each other, and the satin shirt she's wearing slides against your heated skin. She swallows thickly as one of your hands falls to the small of her back, testing the waters.

When she shifts a little to encourage you, you're acutely aware of the thigh that's worked its way between your legs.

When did that happen?

You bite back a sigh as she just smirks, quietly shushing you.

Willow thunders by, shouting your name and threatening to throw you into the pool when she tracks you down. You want to laugh at that, but you'd honestly welcome it right now. Some cold water would surely bring you to your senses after being led astray by this goddess in front of you.

Her footsteps grow distant as she makes her way outside, still searching.

The two of you remain as you are for a couple more minutes until you're certain that the coast is clear, and then you part. When she lowers the cloak, you look away; a deep blush has worked its way up your neck and across your cheeks, and letting her see it would surely make you die of embarrassment.

She keeps her eyes on you as she reties the cover around herself, attempting to get a read on you. The bashful aura that's befallen you is cute, no doubt, but she can sense your arousal. She can smell it on you, and the scent is beginning to drive her crazy.

You fiddle with the sleeves of your costume, readjusting them nervously.

"So, um… thanks," you say, sneaking a glance up at her.

The red hues in her eyes are even more pronounced now, and the sight makes you press further into the wall behind you -- the one that you were previously pushed up against.

"No problem," she smiles, showing off her pearly white teeth. Two of them catch your attention; a set of fangs now shine, looking alluring and threatening all at the same time.

There's only one issue: you're certain that they weren't there when you first bumped into her. When did she put them in? And why do they look so real?

The feeling of her hand landing on your forearm pulls you away from the millions of questions that're firing off in your head right now.

"May I ask your name?" She politely requests, dipping her head down sweetly.

"Y/N," you breathe out, quickly realizing that you'd do just about anything she asked you to.

"Y/N." She repeats, allowing the letters to blend in her mouth as they roll off her tongue. She looks satisfied for some reason as she says it again, trying it out.

"I'm Lisa."

"It's nice to officially meet you," you smile, reaching a hand out. Her touch is gentle but firm as she takes it, shaking it with ease.

"Likewise, beautiful."

The grin on your face only widens at the name, and you pull your hand away out of fear of what she might do next. She's already putting you under her spell, and you're sure that another touch would have you fully entranced.

She studies you with pursed lips for a moment, clearly debating on something. Her eyes flicker over the dips and curves of your body as a smirk grows on her lips.

"What are you thinking?" You question, curious but teasing.

"That I'd love to have your body on mine again."

She's bold, and she says it like the fact it is. No shame, no bashfulness. Just true, honest desire.

You bite the inside of your cheek at her bravery, silently thanking the universe for it. The likelihood of you gaining the courage to make a move is slim to none even in the best cases, and this was no exception. She already has your heart skipping beats and you've only known her a few minutes.

"How about a dance?" She suggests, quirking a brow. The look on her face disarms your defenses, and you take a deep breath before agreeing to your demise.

"That sounds wonderful."

She dips her head again, hiding her face away momentarily, and you think it's the cutest thing ever.

She's shy all of a sudden as her cool demeanor slips up a bit, and that never happens. You might just be her downfall, too.

She holds an elbow out and steps forward, allowing you to link your arm with hers and cuddle in close.

Her eyes scan across the living room as she studies it, but she's unimpressed.

Sweaty, winding bodies thrash around to some upbeat pop song that's been overplayed on every radio station in town for weeks now, and the idea of taking you there puts her off.

When a drunk boy comes into view with a dildo strapped to his forehead, her mind is officially made up.

"Let's go outside," she says, leading you through the patio doors.

A quaint gazebo sits on one side of the yard, and the dance floor that Willow's family installed a couple years ago occupies the other. Both are decorated with string lights in combinations of gold, purple, black, and orange. Other ornaments adorn the surfaces as well, and you smile when you spot a comically large spider sat atop the gazebo's roof.

"Where would you like to go?" Lisa asks, keeping her voice low. It's calm and deep, running a chill through you.

Softer music plays out here, offering a totally different vibe than inside. Some couples -- many of them introverted, assumably -- sway on the dancefloor as the DJ that Willow hired takes a sip of her drink on the raised stage. She adjusts a few switches slowly, not rushing for a second.

"Let's try the gazebo," you decide, glancing over your shoulder at Lisa. She's looking away, but you don't think anything of it as the two of you fall in step with one another on your way over.

Shit, Lisa thinks to herself.

Her plans to come to this party, feed, and make a quick getaway are totally derailed. She'd hoped to find a victim that she was attracted to but didn't like, if that even makes sense, and feed like the animal she is. Then she would leave them like all the rest, drained but still alive, and slip away.

But now she's met you, and any desire for those plans have been thrown out the window.

You interest her, and that doesn't happen often. She hasn't met someone who's been capable of doing that in years, and she's intrigued. Something about you just pulls her in, inexplicably, and she knows her feelings would be glaringly obvious if you saw her face right now.

"Woah, look at this," you sigh, stepping out of her hold to check the place out. A bench runs the perimeter of the gazebo, only stopping at the doorway, and the lights look even prettier from inside. They shimmer, looking like star showers as their strings hang down in the windowless openings of the building.

Lisa quickly learns that she loves seeing you like this. Your eyes are alight, and your sweet smile of wonder warms her heart. Her hands slip into her pockets as she eventually manages to take her eyes off you, following your lead as she admires the decorations.

She does a twirl, looking around.

"It's gorgeous."

"I know, right? This is totally up Willow's alley," you say, grinning at the mental image that you can conjure up of her giddily spiffing the scene up.

"I'll have to thank her for making it look so special, then," Lisa says, smiling. The place really makes you feel like you're in your own little world; everything about it is just right. The ambience, the decor, the company… it’s perfect, and Lisa's content with how the evening is playing out.

Her fingers skate down your arm as she nears you, trekking their way down to your palm. She takes your hand and spins you, watching with admiration as your hair flows in the breeze. Now facing her, you thread your fingers together around the back of her neck as she encircles your waist with her arms.

"Why have I never seen you around?" You ask sincerely, looking up at her.

She hesitates briefly. "My university is a few towns over. I just come here to visit my family every few months."

Not a total lie, she thinks to herself.

"And stop by terrible parties like this, of course." You add, smirking.

She shakes her head at that. "No, I can't say I do. I just decided to check this one out on my way to my friend's house." She explains.

Underneath your cloak, her hands find their way to the small of your back. One stays put while the other dips a little lower, testing the waters.

"And besides," she starts again, feeling you pull her closer. "Meeting you here automatically makes this an awesome party. Not terrible."

"Cheeeesy!" You scrunch your face up and groan, making her laugh.

"Maybe, but it's the truth."

"Sure, Lisa."

She shakes her head and you laugh lightly together, still swaying about. You hold her close enough to rest your head on her shoulder, and the pads of your thumbs rub small circles on the sensitive skin of her neck. She hums at the feeling, and you take note of the way she relaxes in your arms.

The night breeze appears again, performing a flowing dance of its own as it lulls past you in waves. A slight chill resides in it, mixed with a generous amount of the day's sweet, fading heat, and you're at peace.

The slow song that had been playing across the yard ends delicately, parting with some melodic feature that resembles a warm embrace, and it blends seamlessly into the next song.

Turning Page, you recognize it as.

Huh, how ironic. One of your favorites.

Lisa's lips brush against your cheek as she turns her head slightly, whispering, "I like this one, too."

How did she know? You ask yourself. You hadn't said it out loud…

Maybe she's just a good guesser. Yeah, that's gotta be it.

You feel yourself melt as she begins singing the words to you. It's hushed and sentimental -- meant only for your ears to hear, and that makes it even more special to you.

"If I had only felt the warmth within your touch"

She croons, pressing her cheek against your warm skin. You blush, catching yourself when you remember what the next line of the song is.

"If I had only seen how you smile when you blush"

She brings a hand up to cup your cheek in her palm, and her other arm remains around you, holding you tenderly.

"Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough"

Now, her thumb runs across your bottom lip. You look into her eyes and find them an even deeper shade of red than they had been before, but it doesn't frighten you for some reason. She glances down at your mouth again, fighting her impatience as she waits for permission from you.

"I would have known what I was living for all along"

You nod and lace your fingers in her locks, and she doesn't waste another second.

She leans in, humming against your lips when they meet hers for the first time. Her lipgloss spreads across them upon contact, smudging its precise application, but she doesn't seem to care in the slightest. She draws you in closer, and you bring both of your hands around to cup her face as you deepen the kiss.

Her mouth is welcoming against yours, and it moves languidly as you get adjusted to one another. Every move makes you feel dizzier than the one before it, and swarms of butterflies take flight in your stomach with no signs of stopping.

She nips at your bottom lip as her hands dip far lower than before, now kneading your ass as your kisses continue to work her up.

"Fuck," you curse, breaking away from her lips to catch your breath. She's stolen it all from you, and yet she's still not ready to give you a rest; her mouth drops to your jaw, embracing your skin there before moving down to your neck.

She doesn't realize how dangerous the game she's playing truly is until it's almost too late.

Her lips press to the area just above your pulsepoint, where she's learned over the years that blood pumps the hardest and tastes the sweetest. She draws it into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the area as her ears perk up at the breathless sound of your moans. They spur her on, and she nips at the skin, surely leaving a hickey.

Her senses become even more clouded when you say her name, the title caught somewhere between a whine and command, and she feels the strong impulse to claim you. The sensation is overwhelming, and she knows you can feel it too.

Your hands tug on the collar of her shirt as she lets her fangs fully extend, no longer suppressing them. They rake across your pulsepoint, making you shiver against her.

"Please…"

That's all you manage to get out before they pierce your skin, eliciting a whimper from you. Blood fills her mouth instantly, sliding across her taste buds in velvety waves and calming her constant craving. Your hands tighten in her hair, and the delicious twinge of pain that it provides only encourages her more.

Your blood is different than anything she's ever tasted; it's richer -- sweeter. A throaty groan leaves her as she savors it, and you shut your eyes in pleasure. It's addicting, but she knows she has to stop herself before she hurts you. If she continues like this much longer, she won't have the willpower to let go.

She retracts her fangs as she licks your taste from them, and then you feel her warm tongue clean the wound she made. It stings a bit, but in all the right ways.

When she pulls back to look at you, she finds your eyes half-lidded and a pleased smile on your face. It nearly kills her, then and there.

Her gaze flickers back to your neck to admire the hickie she made earlier, but what she sees surprises her. Below it is a darker, more prominent marking that she's only seen other vampires leave behind before.

Definitely not a hickie.

Your brows furrow as you look at her neck as well, noticing a faint outline of something growing darker by the second. Blinking a few times to ensure that you aren't hallucinating, you find that it's really there.

"Lisa, what's on your neck?" You ask.

"A soulmate mark." She responds, feeling a sense of belonging settle over her as she looks at you again. You just confirmed her suspicions by asking that.

"Same as yours," she smiles.

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