#i think internet needs to go for like GOOD
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long reaction to the update
ok. so they put out an update video! since i've been commentating for the last three days i might as well subject you all to more of my thoughts today.
main takeaway: this was a good apology video. i mean it. short and to the point, no overproduction, heartfelt and honest (and not a ukelele to be seen. thank god.) they took ownership of the situation, apologized, and restated how much they value their relationship with the fandom.
their solution is to make the watcher tv platform into kind of an iteration of patreon where content is available for early access before it is released onto youtube later. this is clearly a better option than paywalling everything for everyone. i'm not sure what the relative breakdown of costs turns out to be when you compare how much they were making on patreon after the platform took their cut VS how much it costs in overhead to run and maintain their own platform (how much it costs annually to contract via Vimeo, essentially). but i'm sure that's part of the calculation.
all things considered, that does seem like the best option out of all the alternatives. it allows them to not completely abandon any of the pans they have simmering over the fire for the time being. i don't think i ever thought they were going to just say "oops, forget about the streaming thing! let's pretend that never happened!" because at this point they've invested quite a lot of time and money into it, and i don't disagree that keeping it in some iteration may help them make up some of the funds they're lacking.
i would say, it's fine to keep the streamer. this is one of the ok outcomes, all things considered-- but if they're going to do it, they've GOT to do it smart from this point forward. listen to both the fans and the consultants intimately. both are going to have valid points, and both are going to be right. listening to too much of either side will sink this thing because each has motives and expertise that the other doesn't. if the fans say $6 is too much, listen to them-- but have conversations with business consultants about how much you realistically need to charge to make things work.
also, i'd use this whole situation as a learning experience. watcher is a young company, and it's literally inevitable that mistakes will happen. what's different is that the watcher crew haven't really been in a position before where they've been on the receiving end of the internet-angry-justice-hammer to this extent. it's one thing to watch it happen to others, but it's a position of extreme privilege (and a bit of hubris) to think "but that won't happen to me, because i'm built different." naw, man-- two things in life are inevitable: death and fuckups. the callout posts get us all in the end.
what's really important is that they use this as a wakeup call that even the most loyal fandoms will only follow you so far to the cliff's edge, and you don't want to push that. you have to strike a balance between the passion projects that you think are worthy and the stuff that maybe doesn't excite you as much anymore but the people want to see. a little fanservice keeps the lights on, as unfair as that might seem. i'm gonna make 50 markiplier choccy milk memes just so i can make one niche political joke once and a while for 6 likes. it is what it is.
i'd also use this as a chance to take a very careful look at company structure and finances. it's not fun to do and nobody likes it. trust me-- this is hard whether you're a single adult trying to pay the bills or the freaking US government (speaking from experience on both-- i have to read the president's budget for work frequently). but you all have to ask hard questions about the ratio of creative staff you take on VS staff for administrative and other business roles, as well as the costs and benefits of everything you spend money on. how many staff members are essential to location shoots? can this video be shot with 2 cameras instead of 3 and thus you don't need another cameraperson? you might even have to come to the decision that instead of pitching a new show it makes more sense to use those funds to hire your essential non-creative roles or contract firms or freelancers.
paying staff a fair wage with benefits speaks highly of what watcher wants their values to be. it's hard to find such a position in a creative role and still actually get to work on things you care about. but it would be much worse if watcher didn't make realistic decisions about finances and it lead to the death of the company and everyone losing their jobs. the whole watcher company can work, in my opinion, but not without some sacrifices. they're going to have to run it more like a business and less like a youtube-channel-turned-business in the future if they want to survive.
last thing i'll add is that while i do think this was a good apology video, i still think they hurt themselves by not putting out some sort of statement on Friday or Saturday just to say that they were formulating a response. As i've said in other posts, it's ok and in fact beneficial to not make a kneejerk reaction, but it's also very important to communicate that you SEE what's happening. you SEE what people are saying and THAT'S why you need more time to respond. saying nothing and leaving the angry public to wonder if you dropped your phone off the Hoover Dam or just don't care? that's a fumble. it's a common mistake companies make in a crisis, but that doesn't mean it doesn't erode trust fast.
this could have been handled better in many ways. we see that, and i'm glad watcher says they see that too. crucial going forward is taking all this and patching the errors that caused all this to fall apart and learning from the experience.
tbh at this point what i'm most sad about is that the watcher crew have probably been too stressed out and upset to appreciate some of the absolute bangers people have been laying down to clown on them. i think if it wasn't about them they might be touched by the collective attitude and creative spirit. /j
#watcher#watcher tv#after this post i have got to actually not spend time writing long reactions about this anymore because i too#have fires caused by my own fuckups to put out#alas
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Always gotta laugh a little when people are like “I don’t believe in sympathizing with [conspiracy/oppressor group] but yes, it turns out X thing IS driving people more towards it, so fascinating, anyway I don’t feel bad for those people at all and actually think they should die but wow, this study really does show how fast people are getting radicalized by [propaganda], anyway, they’re so stupid”
There desperately needs to be a shift from the idea that the two ways to respond to conspiracy/right-wing/bigoted takes are 1. “Wow stupid dumb idiots”, and if you don’t do that, then 2. “Poor widdle babies lemme coddle you.”
It’s such a painfully liberal way to respond to things and misses the point of understanding not equaling agreeing. Understanding and sympathizing are tools of deradicalization.
Most anti-vaxxers are not worth arguing with but the theory and conclusions are worth deconstructing, because more reasonable people on the fence are going to get pushed deeper in by “stupid idiot doesn’t know what’s good for you—trust the government.”
Bigoted conservative blue collar guys are not worth arguing with but the theory is worth deconstructing because small towns being abandoned by “progress” are going to be radicalized by “dumb hicks scawed of technology?” coming from city liberals who will never have to work with their hands.
Zionists are not worth arguing with but allowing either narrative of “all antisemitism is made up” or “arguing about antisemitism is irrelevant because this is about Palestinians” allow Zionists to frame themselves as the only response to genuine antisemitism. Not talking about the actual antisemitism Zionists still face allows them to pretend all opposition is antisemitism, and bystanders who “trust Jews to say what’s antisemitism or not” are convinced antizionism is antisemitism.
Male loneliness as a concept isn’t worth discussing when it comes to violently misogynistic men, but it is worth talking about in terms of how patriarchy hurts even the most cishet privileged man AND much more pressingly: how marginalization of men gets ignored because of the radfem belief that maleness cancels out their oppressed identities.
Americans obsessed with conspiracies about human trafficking are often not worth engaging with but the discourse around it IS. Facing the reality of what sexual abuse DOES happen is necessary, reframing how immigration exploitation allows for much more horrific abuse of migrants than even the most sheltered suburbanite can imagine would happen to their blonde children if they were snatched from their manicured lawns is necessary.
Every conspiracy is rooted in truth. Reasonably disgruntled people are the best recruits because “smart” people dismiss their legitimate concerns and say what’s real is fake, so when vile people acknowledge the truth and twist it, you get radicalized nuts out of reasonable people.
It is essential to understand the root of these issues and attack that, not to convince the most extreme of the camp but to convince those on the precipice that an extreme and often bigoted conclusion is unwarranted. People recruited into cults are either abandoned or feel abandoned by their communities, boys on the internet have their actual worries dismissed and become angry and reactionary and entitled in spaces that accept their rational fears and tell them an irrational conclusion is needed. Radfems took their legitimate anger at the system and warped their conclusions in an attempt at regaining control. People are rightfully afraid of the government and don’t know how to identify propaganda so every move must be nefarious. People exploited and experimented on have justifiable reason to reject mandates—these people are still wrong, but about the conclusions, not their feelings. The feelings must be met with acceptance, and the conclusion picked apart.
All these groups feel out of control, not listened to, disempowered, and isolated. Not all will be right. Not all will be worth engaging with. But so many more people will suddenly slip into a radical pipeline because the only people who listen to them are reactionaries. You do not owe everyone your patience or time or explanations or deradicalization—but if you want to pull people away from these dangerous ideologies you have to understand how they were seduced in the first place. You have to grapple with the seed of truth that allows these wrong conclusions to hold up.
And *I* want fewer people to come to the conclusion that the reason they haven’t been duped is because they are just soooo intelligent and morally superior that this kind of indoctrination would never work on you because 90% of you are DNC shills and the exact puppets that help fuel right-wing radicalization.
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I don't even go here, but some of these responses are a little weird ngl. As far as I can gather there are two uwu babygirls who have been wickedly kidnapped by an evil mastermind and forced to enact his dastardly plan while sobbing in private and signalling for help with their eyelids.
I think there is a valid point to be made about online businesses cultivating emotionally-invested communities around their content, happily accepting patronage and creative input from that community who see it as a shared labour of love, then pulling the rug as soon as the profits look fat enough. When people feel exploited by that, there's a reason for it. Using "parasocial" as an insult to dismiss people's upset rather misses that point.
But folks, you are really going to have to climb down a few steps from Parasocial Level 9 before that conversation can be had. Print out their pictures and throw some darts, burn sage or whatever you need to do. Mourn your blorbos. But ultimately, these were all just some blokes who don't know you, who were good at making content and making people like them, who have collectively made a bad business decision that's a really interesting microcosm of internet enshittification as a whole. I think it's really interesting to look at it from that point of view.
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No one can hurt you
Summary : A dinner of revelation and tragedy.
Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.
Thank you! :)
Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover
DISCLAIMER : Rewrite and final version of "All the things you said" | Netflix show: One Day at the Time | Elena’s Story part | Season 3, ep 2. WARNING: mention of physical and verbal aggression! Su*c*de WARNING !R@PE! WARNING: mention of SU*C*DE WARNING TOUGH CONTENT, BE AWARE
DISCLAIMER: This story is fiction and has no correlation with reality. All site names making acts, violence or any other type of aggression are used for artistic purposes, and they did not commit those acts
If you need help. Please get help. You are loved, and your life is valued. Even if you don’t see it, you are loved.
The Monaco Grand Prix is in a few days and you will be slowly preparing for tonight’s dinner. Charles decided to organize a small evening for the pilots and their respective companions. It is in a magnificent hotel overlooking the sea that Charles booked the room and privatized the chef of the restaurant. The luxurious life of Monaco in its greatest fullness, you are always amazed by all the secrets that this small principality shelters.
You were third-wheeling your best friend Heidi to that party. She and Daniel invited you after running into you in the afternoon at the marina. Since you were little you know most of the pilots. So you are happy to have been invited to celebrate this new year of racing in Monaco with them. The evening was going well until the subject of the conversation crumbled into something darker.
“I gotta admit, I’m getting kind of confused.” Ends up saying, Checo rubbing his nose with his glass.
“Oh, my god, me too. What if someone says, “I am not sleeping with you tonight?” And then... an hour later, they’re like, “Eh, fine.” What’s that?” Ask Lando, completely confused.
“Unsurprising,” Pierre whispers under his breath, laughing. You laugh at with him, ignoring Lando's thunder.
“How many women have said, “Eh, fine”?” Questions Heidi sarcastically.
“Yeah, I got to make some calls.”
“Now I’m perplexed.” Says Max trying to make sense of everything he heard.
“I know. It’s confusing. I hate to admit it, but I feel sorry for men. This consent thing is tricky.” Kelly responded and gets up to pour herself more wine.
“No.” You exclaim annoyed by her comment. “Women always blame themselves, and then the man never has to take responsibility. During rape prevention week at the university, all the signs are aimed at women. “Girls, don’t dress provocatively. Girls, don’t walk alone.” How about, “Hey, guys, don’t rape.”" You look up at Pierre knowing perfectly it will trigger him.
“Oh, my god, why are we talking about that? I took a couple pictures as a joke, and Cece thought it was funny.” Pierre exclaims as he gets up from his chair to get himself another beer at the bar.
“Did she? Or did she feel like she had to laugh ‘cause she doesn’t know what else to do with your hand on her boob?” Everyone around the table falls silent and waits. You get up from your chair and walk you way to Pierre.
“Ok, sweetie, take it easy.” Adds Sebastian taking your arm and tries to calm the conversation.
“No. He thinks what he did is cute. You are basically a predator.” You accuse, pointing your finger at him.
“You’re basically a psycho.” Pierre replies, knowing full well it will trigger you.
“Good, call me crazy for defending a woman’s right not to be groped!”
“You’re mad ‘cause the internet told you to be. You don’t know my life or even leave this apartment!” Pierre screams as he approaches you.
“Because of guys like you!” You answer with the same intonation.
“What are you talking about?” Charles asks, taking your hand for you to sit down.
You and Charles are special. You’ve been like ass and shirt since childhood. You’ve known him since you were six. For as long as you can remember, Charles has always been one of your dearest childhood friends. You have shared so much together. No one has ever made you vibrate like he does. Usually his simple touch makes you calmer and reassuring. But you are no longer able to appreciate this contact that you cherish so much.
“You want to know?” You said, scoffing. “Okay. A couple of weeks ago, Heidi and I were coming home from the movies, and we were holding hands. And we noticed these guys staring at us, and then we changed the sidewalks , and they followed us.” You speak with tears in your eyes.
“What?” Sebastian says concerned in his voice. His turn your body to him.
“Yes. And they were going, “Come one, you guys, kiss. We really wanna see it. Just kiss.” They thought that was really funny, too.” You continue telling while drinking a sip of your glass.
“It was actually terrifying.” Ends up adding Heidi after Daniel stares at her intently.
“It was terrifying. And then we finally lost them in a crowd and ran home...” You finish in a huff trying to hold back your tears. Your hand hides your eyes and you try at best to find your calm.
Charles, in his divine goodness, hastens to extinguish you warmly. At first, his touch hurts you and you have only one desire to remove his hands from your dirty body. Yet you cling to him like a lifeline. Deep down, you know it's time. Time to tell what happened that night, a year ago. Nobody dares to speak at your revelation and everyone feels guilty for not knowing sooner.
“Umm... Last year after the Monaco Grand Prix. Lance Stroll raped me. He was my friend, and he raped me in my own bedroom. And then, he threatened me not to tell anyone... but. Why did he do this?” You ask breaking down in tears. “Sorry, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what... I feel.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sebastian asks tenderly, approaching you rubbing his hand on your back.
“I tried, but... nobody listened to me.” You respond looking at Lando through your tears. Your eyes pierce Lando’s being. He doesn’t know where to put himself and his cheeks become red. He implores you to keep your mouth shut, but the situation no longer belongs to you. You feel the body of Charles being redeemed against yours and you notice that he followed your gaze.
“You knew.” He accuses Lando turning his attention abruptly towards him.
“I... I.” He tries to defend himself. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“Oh, you think she knew what to do either.” He yells, getting up from his chair and grabbing him by the collar.
“Charles, let him go!” Orders Carlos.
“You let her suffer silently when you knew what he did to her. I thought you were better than this. T’es qu’une grosse merde.” You’re a piece of shit
“Oh please, like you would have done something? We all know he’s untouchable and has done it before.” Admitted Lando, pushing Charles away.
“What?” Sebastian speaks up. This is the first time he has heard this from his former teammate. He never thought he would ever see Lance in this light.
“Nothing.”
“It’s nothing? He raped her, and now other girls too?” Charles advances again, preventing him from fleeing the situation.
“Don't play fouls, Charles. You were in his hotel room at the party in Abu Dhabi last year, and I quite remember your hands on some teenage girls, groping them.” He said suddenly, pushing Charles out of his way again.
“What?” You speak up, troubled by Lando's affirmation.
“It’s not what it looks like.” Charles turns to you, trying to explain himself. You get up from your chair and walk back as you see him approach.
“Don’t touch me.” You say, pushing him away. “Did you do it?”
“I... It’s not the same thing.” He justified himself.
“Yes. It actually is. Did you grope those teenage girls or worse raped them?” You ask scandalized. Charles, your best friend, your confidant, the one you most trust is capable of the same thing as the person who hurt you the most.
“Oui,” he admits in a small voice. “I didn’t want to.”
“You didn’t want to? What the fuck, Charles. What's wrong with you all?” You yell, taking your stuff and leaving as fast as possible.
The thought of all this happening to so many more makes you sick. How could nobody speak up about this? You walk down the hotel hallway. You can hear footsteps and Charles's voice telling you to come back. When you get to the lobby, you ask for a taxi home. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you look at him as you push the door out.
You take your taxi and give him your address. All you want right now is a shower. A warm and reassuring shower. To pull away all those memories and thoughts. You want to scream to the world. You want to smash your entire apartment down. You want to stay in bed for the rest of your life. You want to jump off the roof. You want to cut yourself so that the pain stops. You want to be set free.
You arrive at the complex. Your dark thought runs in circles in your head. Like a robot, you open the door, press the elevator, and finally unlock your apartment. You let your essentials fall on the ground with your bag and coat. Like a machine, you take your shoes off and open the lights.
The sight of your home, which does not feel like home anymore. Since Lance pushes himself into you while you try to make him go away, this place hasn’t felt like home. You can’t even sleep in your own bed anymore. No matter how many times you clean the sheets, change the bed. This memory comes running back into your mind. Invade you like a parasite.
You go to the bathroom and open the valve to fill the bathtub. You watch the water. You can hear your phone blowing up with notifications and calls. “Why does this world have to be this cruel?” You think, taking your clothes off.
Your body envelops itself in the heat of the water, and you close your eyes. Your body slips in the bath. You head underwater. You hear focusing on your heart bit. You enjoy this moment of quietness and solitude.
That’s it. You feel alone since that night he took your joy, your life, yourself.
You can feel the water pressure you to gasp for air. Your head starts popping your blood. Your heart rises to find oxygen. You struggle. You have been struggling this long. You want to go, and you want to let go.
You let the water go in, and suddenly, all the scary parts disappear. The explosion in your head fades away, and you’re not scared anymore. You find it relatively peaceful. Very peaceful.
Strangely, you’re dreaming. Him with you. On a boat. Feeling the breeze in your hair. The warm sun on your skin. His light touches on your thigh. His breath on your neck. His lips are on your breast. You’re daydreaming. Are you? Is your mind trying to ease the pain in your heart? Is it even the day?
Then. You open your eyes. You try to scream, but your head is under the water. You feel weak but strong. Sick but healthy. Chaos but at peace. You can feel your body wiggling, but your mind is different. No one can hurt you now. Quietly, your eyelids become heavy again, and what a moment ago hurt you the most now makes you feel good.
The water fills your lungs, and you sink more and more into the darkness. Nobody seems to pull you up. The seconds pass, but you no longer find the courage to go out. The bathtub disappears, and you find yourself in the sea. In a warm and welcoming sea; The Mediterranean. An infinity of blue. An infinity of sweetness. The noises are only deaf sounds, and you feel your brain more and more calm. The sun’s rays pass through the water, and you move further and further away from it. Your eyelids become more and more stretched.
Then you see beautiful blue eyes through the water. No fair. You can’t reach them but can’t stop staring at those ocean-blue eyes. Suddenly, you feel scared. Scared to leave those ocean eyes. You’re afraid, and you’re drowning under the waves of words you haven’t said to them, to you.
You try to fight back this peaceful state, but darkness is an easier path than light. Suddenly the silence suffocates you, and you miss the sound surrounding you.
Then comes the darkness.
When you leave the apartment, Sebastian watches Charles running after you. He can’t believe what has happened. He doesn’t want to consider it. How could he? He sees and goes to the door, and Charles is defeated on the ground. He passes by without a look and walk his way to the lobby.
You have always been a fragile child. Even when you were a child. You were always this little fragile and precious porcelain doll. You’ve never been afraid of anything growing up. Sebastian always loved to see you grow up with him. Despite your age difference, he always considered you his little sister. The little one who needs to be protected from everything and at any cost. Knowing that you are suffering so much hurts him.
In the hallway, the walk seems long and endless, his thoughts wandering toward your shared memories. He remembers many summers spent in the countryside. At your grandparents' meadow, there was a vast field with a few horses grazing on the fresh grass. He remembers that beautiful-eyed little girl running in his direction.
You had dirt all over your clothes. Your hair was braided, and he still remembers the grass sticking in it. He remembers your laughter, which lit up the prairie thousands of miles away. Hearing you laugh has always been his favourite thing about you. Lost, it’s only when the doors block his way out that he remembers he has to go looking for you. He runs through the night towards your apartment.
Charles is devastated. Everything he tried to build with you has just broken in a moment. He feels lonely and ashamed. He wants you to know how much he loves you. How much you mean to him. How much you have become the center of his universe.
Before you, there was racing, and that was it. When you became something more his life change. It was as if you had lit the dormant fire in him. You have extinguished the flame since the death of his best companion, his father. You have given meaning to this quest. The stakes are not won but won for you.
He still remembers the first time he took you to his garage. You were with Sebastian. He was showing you around the Ferrari factory, showing you the different facilities, different parts. You were so captivated by his words, and your eyes were shining like stars in the sky.
He remembers the moment when your eyes landed on him. The smile you had, and the dress you wore and the clip in your hair. He counts you. Unable to say anything. Captivated by your beauty.
“Hi, Charlie.” You said in your beautiful voice.
He stuttered and blushed heavily. You laughed gently before putting your lips on each of his cheeks. He likes a kiss, and no, he likes your kisses.
A hand falls on his shoulder, and he sees Pierre. Tears in his eyes prevent him from distinguishing himself perfectly, but he recognizes his friend.
“Don’t worry. She’ll come back.” He says softly. Taking him by the shoulders to lift him up and bring him back to the room.
The others are still there. Confused and shaken, no one speaks. Silence reigns in the room, and no one knows what to say. Charles opens the patio door and leaves the fresh night air in the room. The city slowly began to calm down, and he heard the waves regularly hitting the harbour.
Daniel gets up and gets rid of the table. Putting this party away may make us forget the events that occurred. Heidi and Kelly help him while the others put orders in the room. No one dares to go to see Charles.
The hour passes quickly, and some decide to leave. They quickly greet the last remaining. Pierre observes his friend, who has not moved, and still looks at the sea.
It’s only when Charles' phone starts ringing that he looks away. He calmly enters the room and answers.
“Hello?”
You always liked the fields. You always loved hiding in the big wheat fields surrounding your grandparents' house when you were little. This stretch of yellow was as far as the eye could see. You liked feeling the stems between your fingers, the seeds melting to your touch, and the particular smell of wheat.
You remember a hot summer day. Lying on a tablecloth after a picnic, nature calms by this overwhelming heat, especially the calm of this yellow and green nature. You remember the farmer who held the farm. You spent days watching him working. Helping him through the mould. Watching him turn wheat powder into cereal. You remember this great man, always with a grain of wheat in his mouth that was constantly chewing.
You remember the hum that bees made at work. From wheat to wheat, pollen is harvested. You remember the nests in the hives that you created one summer. Your grandfather, with his jumpsuit, would go every morning and inspect the nests, and you loved watching him do it. You also loved to taste honey with each harvest. Honey is good. It’s sweet. It’s sweet. It’s wild.
You remember Sebastian. His blond hair, his smile, the sound of his kart engine. Many hours passed in his company at the track with his dad. You remember your big brother, following him and Sebastian all day long, like the annoying little sister you were. You remember falling from a tree after the boys thought it was a great idea to climb it. You see your brother jumping down the tree to get to you and hear Sebastian running back to the house to get help. You spent the night at the hospital. You broke your arms that summer, and you had a commotion. Your parents were furious and punished your brother for the rest of the vacation.
You remember your first winter in the mountains. Mornings skiing, and afternoons making snowmen, eating maple syrup, drinking hot chocolate, just playing in the snow. See your happy brother’s face after he managed to get the last pancake.
You remember Sebastian’s victories. To see him move up from category to category. You remember his encounter with Hanna. You love Hanna. She is so sweet and kind. You remember your great jealousy towards her from the height of your twelve years. She who steals your Sebastian. She who steals your second brother. Oh yes, you were jealous, but she knew how to win your heart, and after all, she stayed.
You remember the Ferrari years. Everyone was in red. You saw the world with red glasses. Red like love. Red like anger. Red as the colour. Red as blood. It’s kind of at this time, when adolescence really starts that you start to change. Physically, mentally, and spiritually, you were no longer the wise little girl your parents admired and your brother despised. No, you grew up making mistakes, a lot of mistakes, until you met him.
Him. The golden boy. The one destined to be great.
You remember his perfume, his smell, his laughter, his mimics, his way of speaking, his way of being and his way of simply being. He intimidated you so much; this guy was destined for something big. Whereas you, we never expected much from you besides being pretty, lovely, not disturbing, quiet, and reserved.
Quiet.
Reserved.
Pretty.
In those words, your brain falls into the dark side of your life. The darkened side of time. Painful and unhappy memories. The memories of him, the one who once was your best friend. He who once was your confidant. He who once saw fit to r*pe you.
To find you after the Grand Prix, in your apartment, in your house, in your home. To be a little too drunk, surely. To hold you firmly. To put his lips on yours. To hold your wrists. To put all his weight on your body. To force you into bed. To beg him to stop. To cry in silence. To feel it in you. To feel dirty. To feel unloved.
To feel alone, so lonely, too lonely.
To find yourself curled up in a ball in a corner. To wait until morning for him to leave. To want to end your life. To end your nights. To seek help. To be abandoned. To be alone. To be dirty. To be silent. To be reserved. To be pretty.
To be pretty.
To be pretty.
To be.
Silent is all you ask for.
It’s been a long night. The hours have been staggering. The noises of monitors, nurses, doctors, and ambulances invade their ears. No one speaks, and no one dares speak. It is as if a white veil covers the weighing atmosphere and borrows all those present.
The wait is long, too long. They wait patiently for the outcome of this atrocious night, something that does not happen. Sebastian holds his head in his hands, tears have finished flowing, but his eyes are still red. He feels bad. He feels immense guilt. This mixture of shame, sadness, contempt and anger is eating him increasingly as the hours pass and pass before his eyes. He blames himself for not coming sooner. He blames himself for not holding you back. He blames himself for not seeing. He blames himself.
Full of life and ardour, this little girl was smothered under this icy water. Frozen in time. Only the repetitive sound of drops escaping from the pipe disrupted this freezing scene. She hides all her problems behind her smile. Never in his life has he thought of having this vision of you. This pure horror vision of an act yet so courageous. Because it takes courage to think about yourself before thinking about others. It takes courage to put yourself forward and not others. It takes courage to achieve what others have likely failed to achieve.
The roar of the machines stifled Charles. He closed his ears in the hope of silencing them. To see you with your tubes hanging around you, in you. On this hospital bed, this white bed, this room that feels the end. Eyes wet, Charles looks at your pale, serene face. The doctor’s words are dry and not encouraging. Your parents arrive a few hours later, a flight later. They cry. Your brother has tears in his eyes. Sebastian collapses in a corner. Hanna is there; a veil of sadness covers his eyes. Heidi cries in the arms of Daniel, who looks again in the eyes of Charles. Charles holds your hand, your hand. Your hands are cold, frozen by the consequences. Lando doesn’t dare to come in. He feels guilty because he refused to believe you, to reach out to you, see you, and see your distress. He preferred to become blind rather than awake. It haunts him.
Charles, sitting next to you, is watching people walk by. To say goodbye to you, goodbye, forever. He doesn’t want to. He can’t. You’re still breathing. Your heart is still beating. So why do you have to leave? Why did you choose to go?
“Why?” He mumbles one more time, his head against your ear. “Why are you not fighting?”
“Cha... we have to go.”
“No... I-I-I can’t. I can’t leave her.” His voice breaks in a sob.
“Charles,” Pierre says, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder. “Let her go.”
“No...” Charles pushes him away, gripping your hand tighter. “She’s going to survive. She’s going to live. She has to live. You have to live.” He prays, kissing your cold skin.
Pierre sight and get out of the room. His family, her family, his friends, and her friends are here waiting for him. The visiting hours are almost over. Everyone wants to go back to their house and sleep a bit. They haven’t slept all night. Charles hasn’t slept all night. Pascale enters the room quietly. Staring at his son.
“Charles. We need to let her rest. Will come back in the morning, d’accord mon bébé?” She says, taking him in her arm.
He acquires at her request despite himself. Unable to fight anymore, fatigue slowly eats him away, and he knows that he is of no help if he is exhausted. He leaves the room not without a last kiss, a last look, a last goodbye.
On the following day, Charles came. Staying for hours next to you. Stroking your hair, mumbling your name, praying for you to wake up. He can't take you out of his brain. He can't take you out of him. You're haunting him. We realize how important it is in our life when we lose someone we take for granted. Charles looks at you as a friend until he realizes he loves you. Is it too late? Were you supposed to be?
Sebastian came a few times, only a few minutes. He can't unseen what he saw. He plays and plays the night in his head over and over again. Wondering what he could have done differently.
The doctors are not really optimistic about your recovery. Your body is tired. Your mind is exhausted. They did all they could do. All we have to do is wait. Wait for you to come back. Wait for you to fight for your life. How could you fight if you're not even awake? It's painful.
Strangely enough, he came. The rapist. The abomination of your life. You came late at night when everyone left. He felt bad. "It's too late to feel bad," you think when you feel his hand and you. You wanted to cry, to scream, but nothing. He left shortly after. Looking at you one last time. Looking at what he did to you. You hear from Lando a few days later that he got arrested. Other girls spoke, and there were enough accusations to start a trial. Even more strange, it did nothing to you. Well, how could you feel? When he toked everything you got and smashed it in a million pieces?
Sometimes, you can feel the warmth of the afterlife tingling your skin. You feel it right near you, calling you. Calling you to answer the call. You want to feel this feeling of peace, this quietness. You don't know how to feel. You just want to float. You forgot how to be happy. How to be. Why fight if you may never find yourself again? What were you made for? You wonder to yourself.
Time flies. A couple of weeks passed. You made some improvements for the doctors to feel optimistic for you to wake up eventually. You're stabilized by all those machines. Your parent finally arrived a few days after you were admitted. You can feel your mother's tears on your cold hands and the soft kisses of your father on your forehead. You can smell the sunflower Heidi brought you every time she comes to see you. Sometimes you want to react. To show her you listen. But you can't. Or you don't want?
The feeling of loneliness passed. You can see now how much you're loved. How they love you. You love to hear Arthur talking about your favourite series. You love to hear Sebastian remembering childhood moments whenever he found the courage to come. You love to listen to your mom singing your favourite songs. You love to hear Daniel telling dad jokes, hoping you'll smile in your sleep. You love hearing Lando talking about his latest Quadrant adventures or Twitch lives. You love to listen to Charles saying how much he loves you. How much his life is plain without you. You can't imagine somebody else cared so much about you.
That makes you cry. You can't show them you can hear. You can't show them you love them too. You can't show them how grateful you are or will be. More time passed, and the more you could slowly feel you were losing yourself. All you need to do is happen your eyes, but for some reason, it seems an impossible task to do.
"This is impossible," Alices says in disbelief at the creature rising upon her.
"Only if you believe it is." The hatter whispers, scared of the outcome of all this adventure. But wasn't this all the point of this madness?
"Sometimes, I believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast."
"That is an excellent practice." The hatters says. "However, just now, you might want to focus on the Jabberwocky."
"Six impossible things. Count them, Alice. One, there's a potion that can make you shrink. Two, and a cake that can make you grow. Three, animals can talk. Four, Alice, cats can disappear. Five, there's a place called Wonderland. Six, I can slay the Jabberwocky."
You feel yourself falling into the rabbit hole, and you have been in Wonderland all this time. That's it! You can do it. Six impossible things before breakfast.
"One, you will get a major in architecture."
"Two, you can drive an F1 car."
"Three, you can be happy again."
"Four, Y/n, there's a place for you in this universe."
"Six, I will fight for my life."
At this, though, he feels darkness rising upon you. Everything fades away slowly. You can hear the constant beep of the machines around you. You can feel Charles's hands against yours. You can smell the hospital room you're in. You can see the light shutters again you close your eyes.
Then... you breathe.
Feeling the grass on your feet. The autumn breeze cools down your spine. For the first time, you appreciate being alive. To fill your lungs with air, to hear the water crash against the rocks, to feel the sun warm up your skin, and to taste food again.
You feel a hand around your waist, and Charles brings you closer to him. He sticks you to his bare chest. He holds you firmly for fear that you will disappear again. It makes you smile to see him so loving, so gentle, and so attentive. You turn your gaze from the blue horizon to meet his emerald eyes. He smiles tenderly. His eyes sparkle with a thousand lights when you return his smile. You hold these eyes a few moments before you look wandering towards his lips.
If only it could be true.
If only you could be with him.
______________________________________________________________
Hi! Hope you enjoy this final version of the story. It took me sometimes to get back to writing but I'm getting there. I know some of you really like it and it's fill my heart with joy <3
Tag List : tyna-19 dessxoxsworld ynbutbetter alexander-hamilhoe honethatty12 janeholt3 mloyer karmabyfernando omgsuperstarg laura-naruto-fan1998
#Charles Leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#f1 x reader#f1#charles#charles leclerc sad#charles leclerc x you
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so i just read a post explaining why the op (and, according to the op, a lot of other people, even tho the post in question only had 32 notes, some of which were from people who disagreed with them) didn't like the cut to the crown keepers in last week's episode. while i'm totally on board with people not jibing with stuff that just doesn't work for them, i wanted offer some reasons why this seemingly hard pivot to people who are not the main characters of the story being told was a good decision to make (note good decision, not inherently the best decision, which i believe no one, including the dm, at a ttrpg table should ever be expected to make).
matt had an extremely powerful, extremely unexpected character decision dropped in his lap in the final moments of the previous episode. we don't know exactly how much time matt has between recordings, maybe a full week, maybe not, but either way, there's a very real chance that matt just did not have enough time to fully prepare a session to deal with fcg's death and what comes next.
sam now has to create a new character that a) is of a level with the rest of the party and b) makes narrative sense for him to be there. that takes time for both him and matt, and they might just need some space to work on that. when laudna died, marisha was willing to sit away from the table for several weeks because she knew that she wanted laudna to be resurrected, but sam may not want the same thing, and that's okay!
matt may want to fold the crown keepers into his main story, some or all of them—particularly dorian, whom both liam and the fans have been asking to return for a while now. dorian is clearly important to orym and the story that liam is trying to tell, and bringing the crown keepers in may be matt's way to do that.
matt—and dms generally—has always had to straddle a very fine line of making sure that his players are the main characters of their story who feel like their actions have real consequences and effects on the world, while also understanding that in reality, it doesn't make sense for half a dozen chucklefucks to have such an outsized effect on major cosmological goings-on like *checks notes* the potential release of a god-eater. this becomes especially true when you're on your third campaign set in the same world, and your players' previous ultra-powerful pcs are still around and definitely more adept and connected than their current pcs are. i, personally, think matt does a great job at walking that line, and one of the things he does that i appreciate is that he doesn't shy away from the fact that a) his players are powerful but not the most powerful and b) his players aren't the only one who care about what's going on in the world and who are taking actions to effect change. the current plotline re: ruidus is absolutely world-shaking and is causing all the divine girlies to cower in their demiplanes, so of course even the evil ones are going to be calling on their champions to help out. it makes more sense for opal to be involved (which, btw, matt has been hinting at for a while now) than not.
matt might need a fucking break! he's been doing this consistently for nine years now, and shit is complicated! handing over the reins to aabria for a week or two or three may be what he needs to not get burnt out.
dnd is an emotional game, and the entire cast might have been rocked hard by fcg's death. some space away for a week or two could help them process and regroup to get back into a story that is otherwise very stressful and action-packed.
or it's none of these! what do i know! i'm a random idiot on the internet! matt doesn't consult me on these matters! (though my dms are open if he wants to chat, i do have ideas)
i think it's tempting to think of the decisions made in and around critical role (or any ttrpg show) like those made for a television series, because the episodes are serialized and we love them so much. but this show is, first and foremost, a group of friends playing a game together, and not a carefully constructed narrative with the primary goal of entertaining an audience. the audience always has been and, frankly, always should be second to the wishes and fun of the people around that table. matt would not have asked aabria to step in and dm a crown keepers side arc if he didn't think it was a good decision for him and his players, and that priority is the correct one. we are being invited in to watch these friends have fun together, and that's a privilege that we're super lucky to have. as long as the cr story isn't doing things that are outright abusive or harmful to the cast or the audience, i don't think we should begrudge them the choices they make in the name of their own game.
again, it's okay if you're not vibing with the crown keepers! i didn't love the aeor arc of c2! not everything is for everyone! but i think accusing matt and the cast of narrative malfeasance is a bit much when, tbqh, they don't answer to us. they answer to each other.
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Barking, Meowing, Clawing for Elriel: The Why of it All.
I saw a criticism recently that Elriel's are horny little weirdo's who are largely obsessed with the idea that Azriel is an absolute sheet freak, and for some reason, we are only able to see that being the case with Elain. And to that I would like to say: Your Honor, frankly, you are not wrong. Obviously there is *a lot* more to it than that, and the lore of their four books of sweet softness and connection and friendship that developed into absolute down bad angsty pining. But yeah, the freakiness of it all is certainly a big draw. And I don't believe that is a point I should deny or argue.
But I ask thee- what am I to do with THIS:
Emperor Sarah Julius Maas herself created this Roman Empire within me by literally going on camera in front of the whole ass internet and SWEATING just thinking about how hot and kinky Azriel is in bed. It is important to note that this question came after Stephanie (@ideallyinspiredreviews) asked whether or not Tarquin was vanilla or a freak, and Sarah had a hard time answering because she hadn't really thought about it yet. But Azriel? Yes. Immediately yes.
Then a year after after Sarah confirmed Azriel is 100% the kind of man who would choose death by kitty suffocation if it was presented to him, it dropped that ELAIN'S kitty is the one he wanted to suffocate on:
Personally, I think it is hot as hell that Azriel only needed to put a necklace on her, or look at the present she had made for him that he keeps on his nightstand to get so horny that he can't control himself. You can judge it all you want, but Sarah MADE me this way, as the Iron Teeth Matrons made the Thirteen as they were. I cannot be held responsible!
Mother gave us homework, and all I tried to do was understand the assignment so I can ace all my tests. If you want to drag me for being a little good girl rule follower with a praise kink, then drag me to hell for it. You know what? I probably deserve it. But I am simply working with what the author gave me. If and when she presents new information, I will certainly meow for that as well. But at the moment- this is the monster that I was turned into. And I will keep *barking* until I am instructed to stop.
Thank you for your understanding and compassion.
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After the race.
SHANGHAI - Post Sprint
Carlos returns from the paddock, racing so closely with Charles got him all worked up. I mean, they almost touched. Maybe they did? He's still shaking a little from the adrenaline. But it's okay; he knows the internet is going to either praise him or get mad at him for it. He knows everyone is going to comment, but it's okay. He loves it. He loves racing that way, showing the Latino mode. It's not their first time with Charles; they tacitly agreed that whatever happened on the track would stay on the track and not impact their relationship.
And Charles gave him a thumbs up after the race, so everything is okay. And it's probably just a coincidence if he doesn't run into Charles the whole hour after the race. He focuses on debriefs and interviews.
But when he finally sees him at the end of the garage, back turned towards him, he can't help but run and lightly grab his arm.
"Hey..." he holds his hand out for him to clap.
"Hey," answers Charles rather flatly, not meeting his gaze. Something feels off, but he still asks.
"Are we good?"
"..." Charles finally looks up and grimaces. He feels his stomach churning. Did he really go too far, really? He always makes sure to be very careful with his teammates, especially with Charles, who has always been very respectful towards him. With Charles, whom he particularly appreciates. So he slightly panics and stammers, "but you gave me a thumbs up so I thought that..."
"It wasn't in that way."
"Oh..." Oh, so it was an angry thumbs up. And he responded like an idiot.
"you fucking pushed me off track, Carlos, it could have caused a puncture!"
"You passed me anyway, so why are you mad?" He sees a glint of fiery arrogance in Charles' eyes.
"Because you could have let me! Instead of fighting so hard."
"Oh, let you? In what honor?"
That's new, Charles asking him for favors like that. He lets out a little laugh, and Charles blushes and says, "Not let me... just not fight me so much."
"But I'm a fighter, we are fighters... on track and chess," he tries to lighten the mood by lowering his voice a little bit, gives Charles a little bump on the shoulder, smiles... "you said it yourself in the interview... I heard you."
He tries to pinch his side, but Charles squirms away still annoyed, brows furrowed, but he knows him so well, he sees his eyes are about to laugh already because no matter how much he wants it, Charles can never stay mad at him for too long. Spanish charm.
But he is mature, and if Charles is annoyed, even a little bit, the air needs to be cleared. So he stops teasing, comes back to being serious, and presents his hand in front of him as a peace offering.
Charles meets his eyes defiantly, wondering, but slowly slowly reaches to hold it. He feels Carlos' fingers wrapping around his own, warm and strong, steady. It's strangely comforting. He'd like to hold onto them for a while, ground himself back after this madness.
"I'm sorry, if I went a bit too far. I'm sorry, didn't mean for you to think it was aggressive." His voice is low and warm, and Charles receives it like a hug. He loses himself in the big brown pupils for a while, then swallows, mouth suddenly dry, and nods a little bit, acknowledging the apology.
"We good?" asks Carlos, back to being smirky with a blink and a wide smile.
"Yes,"
And Carlos smiles even wider and pulls his hand toward his lips to give it a kiss.
"My lord..."
"STOP IT, Carhlos!" and Charles feels his face burn, pretends to be offended, and pulls back his hand, pushing him lightly on the shoulder in retaliation. His heart races like crazy.
They head towards the common room, bickering.
"Now we'll have to explain this to Fred," sighs Carlos, anticipating the scolding.
Charles nods, unfocused.
He can't help but wonder how Carlos' lips would have felt like.
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Never
"Paul, will you rub my feet?" Cindy pleaded. I made a face and groaned.
"Alright I said reluctantly." She was well aware of my dislike of feet. But as we sat on the couch I rubbed my girlfriends feet. Knowing thst she would owe me. After a few minutes there was a loud knock on the door. It was after 9pm who could that be. I went to check and found my friend Andy drunk on my doorstep. I bought him inside. Andy was going through a rough divorce. His wife of three years had left him. Cindy invited Andy to sir down and got him some water. We sat in the living room. Andy started to break down. I felt very uncomfortable watching my friend cry and found an excuse to leave them alone. Andy crying on Cindy's shoulder. I left them alone for awhile and when I returned Andy drunk was hugging Cindy but also his hands slid over her body. Cindy stopped him gently several times. I stood in the doorway and watched. Cindy saw me watching. The next time Andy hand slid under her shirt she just looked at me. I did nothing but watch. She allowed his hand to cup her breast under her shirt. And watched as I did nothing. Boldened Andy kissed her. His tounge plunged into her mouth and she kissed him back. Watching me the whole time. Andy removed Cindy's tee shirt and kissed her now exposed breasts as Cindy held his head. I adjusted my growing cock in my pants. Cindy smiled and let Andy do whatever he wished.
Cindy reached down and ran her hand over Andy's crotch. She whispered in his ear and led him to the bedroom. I paused then followed. As she closed the door she gave me a look. I stood outside the door and listened to the obvious sounds of thier lovemaking. Injust stood in the hall. Cindy appeared about 30 minutes later. She smiled as she opened the door to find me standing there waiting. She quietly closed the door and pushed me against the wall.
"You wanted that to happen" she said her hand reaching into my sweat pants. I just moaned as she grasped my throbbing cock.
"He is much bigger then you" she giggled. "I think you need to sleep on the couch tonight" she told me. As she removed her hand and let me go. As she walked into the kitchen I noticed she only wore her tee shirt. She had not even put her underwear back on. I grabbed her and pulled her close kissing her.
"Like that?" She asked "I sucked his cock real good" she told me. She just laughed and got a glass of water before she returned to Andy and our bed. I did sleep on the couch that night. I woke early and made breakfast. Andy appeared first. He was hung over.
"Paul, um I mean" he mumbled.
"Don't worry about him, I think he really liked it" Cindy said as she walked up behind him she kissed him. Right in front of me. Then walked over and reached into my pants again grasping my erection.
"Didn't you?" She asked I just looked at the floor and nodded. We all ate and as they finished Cindy looked at Andy.
"I need that big dick one more time" she said grabbing his hand. Andy looked at me and I just nodded. He rushed after her. Again I heard the animal sounds of there lovemaking. I did the dishes thinking Cindy and I had never had sex so ,any times in such a short span. I mowed the grass. And spent time looking at cheating wife pornnon the internet. Before The bedroom door opened again. Andy came out showered and dressed and just left. It was already after 3pm. I was so horny I had wanted to play with myself but had stopped myself. I found CIndy naked wet from a shower changing the sheets. I rushed in to help her. Cindy watched as I made the bed. She had stopped helping and just let me do it. When I finished she pulled my pants and briefs down in one motion. I was still hard as a rock.
"I am really tired, but go ahead jerk off" Cindy said sitting on a chair she spread her legs. "Andy fucked me so good baby" she told me. As I started to jerk off. She pinched her niplles and crossed her legs. As she she told me everything they had done. How big he was, how she had made her cum so many times. Then as if a light bulb went off.
"You can rub my feet" she offered. She stood and pushed me on the bed. Then laid down offering me her feet. Her foot pushing my hand away from me continuing to jerk off. She handed me lotion and I rubbed her feet. As I rubbed one she raised her other to my mouth. This was too much I turned my head. But she looked at me disappointed and I turned back and sucked her toes.
"Kiss it show me how much you love me" she teased switching feet. I focused on the foot in my mouth. The other rubbed against my erection. I found myself dry humping against her foot. I came all over her foot as she pushed her other foot in and out of my mouth.
"Quick a towel or you will send the rest of the night doing laundry" she told me urgently. I grabbed her towel off the floor before any of my mess could spill the the bedspread. I cleaned her and myself up. Cindy pulled my close and cuddled.
"I like to see Andy again" she said "but it has to be your decision" I got hard again. I tried to initiate sex.
"Paul, I am not a slut, as long as I am fucking Andy we can't" Cindy explained. She raised her knee alittle. "Put the towel down you can hump my leg" Cindy told me. I stopped but kept kissing and touching her. Before she pushed me off and went to start dinner. For the next week Cindy kept me denied offering me her feet and leg to hump, suck and massage. But I resisted. It was all she was willing to give me. Till Friday rolled around.
"Be nice if you invited Andy over tonight" Cindy said over breakfast. I signed. "I have seen what you been watching on your phone." Cindy told me. I blushed I had been watching alot of cuckold porn. And Cindy knew the password to my phone. Cindy looked up at me.
"Would you like to jerk off while we talk?" Cindy asked with a smile.
"You been doing that alot haven't you?" Cindy continued.
"Do you want me to Cuckold you?" Cindy asked her foot slid between my legs pressing against my raging erection. "Call Andy" I picked up my phone.
"Andy could you come by today?" I spoke into the phone.
"Tell him why?" Cindy smiled pressing her foot harder.
"Cindy needs you to fuck her again" I moaned. I heard Andy laughing then just said "be by around 6" he said and hung up. Cindy got up and sat in front of me on the table her legs spread in front of me.
"Now, what else would you like, want to eat my dirty pussy after Andy is finished?" She asked I just shook my head. She raised her foot to my mouth and I sucked her toes.
"Yeah that's what you like to suck my toes" she laughed. She knew I didn't but I couldn't say noanymore, i did'nt want too,
Andy arrived right after dinner. And immediately took Cindy to the bedroom, where they didn't come out except for a drink or a snack until morning. Andy again left in the morning. I found Cindy naked on the bed. She had laid down a towel.
"Strip and come get your relief" she told me. I stripped and without even trying for anything thing else I dry humped her leg as I sucked on her feet. As I came I collapsed on top of her. My head between her breasts. I kissed her. She didn't stop me rather encouraged so I licked and sucked her tits.
"Andy came all over them this morning, can you tell?" She asked. I was horrified. But she pushed my head down towards her stomach. I kept kissing and licking. I paused just above her pussy.
"It's okay our secret" Cindy said rubbing my head. I lowered my face to her pussy. I instantly got a glob of Andy's cum on my tounge. I jumped back. Cindy giggled and gentle pulled me back to her.
"Just try" she encouraged me. But I resisted
"Okay taste yours tell me who's is better" she raised her leg. I stuck out my tounge and tasted my own.
"Andy's isn't it?" She smiled I nodded in agreement.
Andy spent at least one night a week fucking Cindy. Cindy found new ways to excite me about it. Once leaving the door open so I could listen. She had me massage her feet while she sucked Andy's cock as they watched a movie. But I wasn't allowed to look in thier direction. After two months i stopped even trying to have sex with her. Andy took her away for a romantic weekend. Cindy was so pleased with me when she got home she let me dry hump her ass.
"Do you touch yourself when I am not here?" Cindy asked.
"Sometimes" I admitted.
"Why? What are you looking at when you touch yourself?" Cindy asked. She picked up my phone not waiting for an answer. She went to my history and the first pic that popped up was a man bent over a woman's lap being spanked. With a butt plug in his ass. She started to stroke me. My penis growing in her hand.
"This what you want?" Cindy asked. I didn't answer she kept going.
"Do you want to be punished?" She asked.
"I can't please you" I moaned.
"But you do, just because you can't touch my pussy" she laughed. But you can rub my feet" Cindy told me. "I can't have you touching yourself anymore" Cindy told me. "You need to promise me you won't touch yourself with out my say so." Cindy told me. "If I do this will it help you to not touch yourself?" Cindy showed me another pic on my phone of a woman pegging a man. With a strapon.
"I was just really horny" I tried to explain.
"Grab me the lube from that drawer" Cindy told me. I reached into her nightstand.
"Andy uses that to fuck my ass" Cindy smiled "you never fucked my ass did you" Cindy teased. I handed her the lube. She patted her lap. I laid across her thighs. She held my erection between her legs. She spread lube on her fingers. Then on my ass. She worked a finger into my ass.
"I can't believe you are the same man I married" Cindy teased as she slid her finger in and out of my ass. She worked in a second finger into my hole. "Is this what you deserve" Cindy asked. I felt humiliated. Then her fingers turned a bit and I felt a shot of pleasure race thru me. A moan escaped my lips. Cindy moved her fingers again. And again i jerked and moaned.
"Someone is enjoying this" Cindy laughed and continued to move her fingers. She rubbed against my prostate a few more times just teasing. Then removed her fingers and smacked my ass.
"I would never have thought months ago that you would prefer me to finger your ass and let your friend fuck me then being such a pervert." Cindy told me. "You will never put your little dick in anything ever again. And you love that don't you?" Cindy teased.
Something happened between Cindy and Andy. But that just let Cindy start to seek out other men. She took pleasure in telling me just enough to get my imagination running wild. She also liked giving me taste of thier sperm. Always asking who's tasted best. Or tease me about liking my ass played with. It was two years later Cindy informed me we where going to have a baby. And I had some hard decisions to make. Did I want to raise another man's child, or move aside and let him marry her. Did I want to be a nurse maid. And let a real man raise the child. After beating around the bush Cindy laid it out.
"I want to lock you in chastity and make you my sissy house husband. You would stay home with the kids. And I would find them a real man to be thier father." She told me. Handing me a velvet bag with a chastity cage in it.
WHAT WOULD YOU CHOOSE? HOW FAR WOULD YOU GO? FILL MY COMMENTS LET ME KNOW? I KNOW SOME OF YOU WOULD JUST GRAB HER AND FUCK HER LIKE A WHORE, AND OTHERS WOULD BEG TO BE HER SLAVE. BUT MOST ARE SOMEWHERE IN BETWEEN
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Ninjago Headcannons (pt.2)
warnings: none🦐
Kai's the type to pull you closer to him and tell you to take the day off of work bc he doesn't want to stop cuddling
Zane has Nya taste test all of the food he makes because he values her opinion the most(aside from Pixal, who cannot eat)
Nyas the big spoon and Jay's the little spoon
Dareth is a hard core stoner and always smells like weed
Kai has a really extensive skin/body/hair care routine
He'll be in the bathroom for 2 hours on Wednesday and Sunday(his everything shower days) doing skincare, haircare, and body care
He also has one of those skin care headbands to stop his hair from getting in his face while he does his skincare
he also has the scrunchi bracelets to stop water from rolling down his arms when he washes his face
Zane likes those test ur intuition videos on tiktok
Coles a firm believer that you have to try something before you say you don't like it
it's because of this that he kissed a girl while at a party someone was throwing, that's when he knew he was 100% gay
Jay can't handle spicy food
Jay thinks Takis are spicy
Despite being good with technology, Zane's usually the last one the ninjas go to if they need help with something techy
Kai doesn't like chips, any of them- Takis, lays, cheetos, dorittos, onion rings, not even chicharrones de harina
(Chicharrones are a type of Mexican chips shaped like wheels, usually served with lime juice and some sort of spice mix or sauce)
Nya puts tajín on everything
(for those who don't know what tajín is, it's a seasoning that originates in Mexico. I think it's more salty than spicy but it's really good on fruit)
Cole saw Kai putting chamoy sauce on a slice of chocolate cake once, and since Cole believes in trying things he tried it
He actually really liked it and now puts chamoy sauce on his chocolate cake most of the time
Nya journals and scrapbooks as a hobby
Jays favorite shape of ice is sphere ice
according to him it tastes better when he chews/sucks on it
Nya likes to do those little hair wraps with embroidery string
Nya really wanted to be a girl scout when she was a kid, but never could because money was tight
Jay's allergic to shellfish
They all watch The Real Housewives of Ninjago together
Zane and Lloyd come up with the best code names for people the ninjas talk about a lot
Nya is a pilates girly
She dragged Jay and Kai to a class with her once
Jay struggled and decided he didn't like it but Kai still goes with her sometimes
Cole has bacne
Since Kai's the skincare guru Cole went to him for help
Kai spent an hour searching the internet for a well reviewed bacne wash
He didn't like any of them and just bought Cole the type of face wash he uses and told Cole to wash his back with it
Kai also spent a good amount of time looking for good creams and ointments for Cole to use
But Cole couldn't reach his back to wash it and apply the ointments and creams, so now Kai spends 10 or 15 minutes a day helping Cole with his bacne routine
Lloyd is freakishly flexible
Zane is not flexible at all
#ninjago#ninjago headcanons#kai smith#lloyd garmadon#ninjago kai#ninjago cole#ninjago nya#ninjago zane#ninjago jay#ninjago lloyd
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okay, so you might be wondering like i was: how many boxes do you need to purchase in order to merge a level 9 item from scratch?
the short answer is around 4 boxes. if you're using this guide to play, i recommend you start with 4 purchases! in most of my tests i could reach level 9 after 4 purchases. i'll lay things out below the cut.
in one box you get (at *minimum) 50 level 1 items. if you divide that number by 2 (or rather, by merging them) you get 25 level 2 items. there will be leftovers here and there, but if you keep dividing that number by two you are guaranteed with at least *one level 6 item per box*.
from there we can suppose that to reach level 7 you need two boxes, to reach level 8 you need four boxes, and to reach level 9 you need eight... huh? but vanilla, earlier, you said four boxes was enough!
i did say that. i did. but in all my tests i ended up reaching level 9 in around 4 boxes anyway, due to leftovers and items from the original box of 50 coming out as level 2-3 instead of as level 1. that's why if you want to merge a level 9 item from scratch i recommend you start with 4 boxes and work from there. you can consider 8 boxes to be a kind of maximum ballpark estimate--it shouldn't take any MORE than that, but it will very likely take less!
you can apply this principle to the book, jewelry and light series. (since the output of every gem box is the same--one level 3 and one level 1 item--buying one gem box will still leave you with a level 6 item and something leftover, every time.)
here are other things i noticed but didn't fit anywhere into the main body of text:
*i say "minimum" here because this doesn't take into account any of the 50 items you purchase maybe coming out at level 2 or 3. all this assumes that everything comes out at level 1.
- the book series is the lowest-scoring series of items, and generally it's more cost-efficient to purchase them than merging them from scratch.. even buying the bookshelf is 6 dia cheaper than merging it yourself.)
- conversely, i believe always cheaper to merge the crown from scratch. even going with the hypothetical 1 crown = 8 boxes = 80 dia ballpark estimate, merging it would then be 30 dia cheaper than buying it.
- all that said, to maximise your points output you should be merging EVERYTHING from scratch, because coins. good luck if you choose to do this.
note that i'm just some guy on the internet, so while i HAVE tested these things on my account to pretty consistent success i could also still be wrong. feel free to let me know what you think either way :p
special thanks to my wonderful lovely boyfriend @exmeowstic for listening to me rattle all this off during his trek to 3.5 million points. as of typing he's just 100k points away...... he's fought really hard......... and if you've read this far, then thank you too!!
i wanted to also figure out what the points to dia conversion rate was but given RNG, daily orders, items being grouped together on orders etc... it's hard! still considering that to get one guaranteed 5* off the gacha (by hitting pity at 300 rolls) you'd need to spend around 100k dia, well... i'll do my best to snag himeru before the event ends. good luck today for the rest of part 1, and i'll see y'all again in part 2
(o゜▽゜)o☆
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Mommy daughter dates
Hey guys it's been a while and yes am using y'all as a diary. I have been trying to focus on Eva and acting like the raven guard is not in my walls. Y'all know those daddy-daughter dates? I do those to make up for the fact my work often takes me away from her for long periods of time.
My little princess would get dressed up on her own despite the mismatch of clothing, she would look absolutely beautiful. Then we would go to the mall, get our nails and hair done, and go on a small shopping spree. We will end the night at the Olive Garden.
Usually, we have our mommy-daughter's date on a Friday a week before I have to leave on a business trip. So Eva has a good memory of me before leaving so she won't feel like she was abandoned. But this time I decided to have an early one because I desperately need just some alone time with my daughter without that fucking overtowering emo-looking man over my shoulde judging everything I do.
(I think that their emo under the mask, I've done some research on other people who interacted with Ravengard's and supposedly they're emo looking. Mr. Eeyore hasn't shown his face to me probably to Eva but who knows)
Honestly, I should have expected he would have followed us to the mall but I didn't think he would because malls are pretty brightly lit. But I swear I saw him in the corner of my eye but when I turned back he was gone. I felt like my whole day was ruined but my little Eva made my day a bit better when she brought over the dress she thought would look good on me.
And here we are, me on my computer venting to strangers on the Internet. I suppose I'm going back to researching ways to separate Mr. Eeyore and Eva and find out more about raven guards in general as most of the information is pretty lackluster.
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Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me (Spawn Astarion x F! Ghost Reader)
Chapter Four: Regrets
Synopsis: You wake up in a place you've never seen before and shit hits the fan pretty quickly.
CW: Mentions of unwanted touch, gore, violence, mentions of child loss (Victoria)
Disclaimer- put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. Birdie's 'image' is a stock image. I will not describe the readers body in detail- she is just merely on the banner for ✨drama✨. I believe the picture of Astarion is from @cheekylittlepupp . And then the symbol of Orcus in the back is a free image off the internet.
Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all your support and love!
Chapter Three : Chapter Five: AO3
When you wake up again, your head is spinning and there is a man leaning over you with a smile on his face- he’s dressed head to toe in Paladin gear and there is a boot print with a compass insignia on his chest. The man is pretty, his skin has a slight bluish tint to it, but otherwise it’s more caramel colored, and he has a goofy, boyish grin. His hazel eyes bore into yours and his black messy hair frames his face.
Astarion would distrust him immediately.
Your head is throbbing and your abdomen still feels the ghost of the arrow going through your much smaller form. Yet, all you can think about is getting back to Astarion as soon as possible. You will destroy the world if you have to if it means being by his side again.
“Welcome to the City of Manifest!” he yells with excitement.
The city of what now?
“Oh no- I need to g-“
“Come on, get up, I have places to show you!” the man says, “my name is Brayden- a Wyst Paladin, most beautiful human you will ever meet, and,” he turns around with his arms wide, “certified tour guide for the newly dead!”
Newly dead? You’ve been dead for a few centuries now. Wait, are you?
“Dead!? Like gone gone?” you begin to panic, “no- I can’t! I- I have someone waiting for me to come back!”
Your whole body begins to shut down- the air you don’t need being dragged into you in quick harsh gasps from panic. You can’t be gone. You can’t be!
You hope Astarion is okay- maybe you aren’t too far away from where you died? You did just kind of show up here- you thought you would have been dragged into the Ethereal Current.
“Oh don’t fret! I’m sure they are on their way now- the City is not that far from wherever you died since you woke up here instead of in the good ole current,” the man continues to march towards the gates of the City, “people often come and live here with their passed loved ones or you can purchase a Manifesting Ring and be a solid humanoid outside of the City.”
“Solid?” you ask in confusion.
“Notice how you can feel the breeze?”
You pause and a small gust of wind kisses your face. Your hand goes hesitantly to your cheek- you actually felt the wind. Maybe you didn’t really notice because you were able to feel the wind as a cat anyhow so it wasn’t something you had to miss for too long.
“Wow,” you whisper.
You slide off your shoes and put your feet in the freshly rained on grass- a laugh of delight escapes your lips. You are genuinely truly solid.
Something sparks to life inside of you and all of the ‘What Ifs” begin to swirl around in your heart- making you positively giddy.
This means that you have a chance- an honest to Gods chance- at being romantically involved with Astarion. You jump and shout- running across the grass with your shoes in hand and Brayden chasing after you. You don’t stop until you hit the gates- breathless, but with no use for air.
It’s incredible. The ache in your legs, your lungs, and the cobblestone beneath your feet hurts, but in a way that is familiar and foreign all the same. You can feel frizzy flyaway hairs on your head and you can smell!
There must be a pastry shop somewhere and you are determined to find it, but first things first- you need to find Astarion.
“Grief and a half woman,” Brayden comes to a halt in front of her, “I’m the one who’s supposed to be leading you!”
You chuckle awkwardly, “Uh sorry- I guess I just got really excited.”
Brayden smiled understandingly.
“I was the same way when I arrived. I was also grateful to have another chance at life.”
You hum in agreement and allow him to actually guide you this time. He shows you the Magic Swan Tavern- the most popular in town for it’s shenanigans. He takes you through the entirety of the Portal Ward District and you make note of the nice dagger that Deric’s Weapons is selling.
Maybe, if you can scrounge up some money, you can buy it for Astarion as a, “Sorry I keeled over. Again.” present.
After the Portal Ward District, you end up in the Market Ward with people shouting out their prices and discounts. Then you are off to Forestview and then back through the Portal Ward- The Leafy Branch tavern is far more quiet and calm than The Magic Swan Tavern, but you think you would prefer the noisiness and fun. You’ve missed out on that kind of environment for a very very long time.
There is so much to remember that your head feels like it’s swimming- there’s candle shops, pastry shops, live entertainment, loved ones reuniting, and people walking around with their neighbors or friends.
You are snapped out of your mystified reality when you arrive at The Tombyard district- the smell of rot and the feelings of despair make you feel colder than you already are.
“This is the Tombyard- there is an eclectic group of individuals here,” Brayden says uneasily, “Necromancy and other magic that disturbs the peace of the dead are forbidden, but that doesn’t stop everyone.”
There is a loud clattering from the alleyway and the Cleric steps in front of you protectively.
“Wait here,” he says sternly, “don’t go away with anyone who is not me or your friend, okay?)
“Okay?”
What in the hells is happening?
10 minutes pass, then 20 before he reappears, except his eyes are different. Instead of being more brown, they are more red. His footsteps are way too soft compared to the clunking he was making earlier.
“I really appreciate the tour and everything,” you say to Brayden, “but I need to go and find my friend-”
“Oh come on- just let me buy you one drink!” He grabs your arm, trying to drag you to the Tavern.
The man’s entire demeanor had changed. He was not puppy-like anymore- he was far too cool and collected. Horrifically pushy too.
“No- I really need to find Astarion.”
“Forget him,” the man rolls his eyes, “he hasn’t gotten here yet. He’s probably moved on.”
What? This man was just telling you about all the places to show Astarion and now he is saying he isn’t coming?
You feel tears prick your eyes and your lower lip begins to tremble. That’s not possible- is it?
The man looks forlorn when he realizes how upset he made you. He comes over and gently pats your shoulders before looking you dead in the eyes. Although his face shows empathy, his eyes are empty and devoid of emotion.
You just need to get back to Astarion, this man doesn’t matter.
“Hey, look,” he says with a sigh, “I know someone who can help us find hi-“
“Where!?” You practically scream, “take me there right now!”
The man smiles at you and gestures for you to follow him back towards The Tombyard. Something inside of you screams to stop following him, but the dumb part of you, the worried part of you that needs Astarion NOW, is winning over common sense.
There are far more alleyways in the Tombyard than you realized (you weren’t really paying much attention anyway), but something about going through alleyways with a stranger screams, “Astarion is going to have a cow when he realizes you followed a stranger when he has to rescue you from said stranger.”
You stop, letting ‘Brayden’ go further ahead when your stomach turns even tighter. Something is wrong. Very very wrong.
It’s like being in the Catacombs again.
The man stops when he realizes you aren’t following him anymore, both of you staring at each other and standing mere feet apart.
Whoever this is- this is not the tour guide you met mere hours ago. This person has ill intentions.
“Who are you?”
The question hangs in the air like a threat. It wasn’t meant to be, but knowledge is power and that’s all you have right now.
His face contorts and the man snarls in frustration- revealing massive canines. Your eyes go wide as the entire illusion drops.
It’s Leon. Of course it’s fucking Leon.
“You and Astarion are an annoying fucking duo,” he says harshly, “between the two of you- I really don’t know who is worse, but I am certainly fed up.”
Oh that might be a threat.
You take off running- sliding around corners of alleyways with Leon hot on your heels through the back alley of The Tombyard. He was Cazador’s best hunter for a reason and he certainly isn’t losing your trail.
Oh to be a cat again- there are so many good hiding spots. Astarion is going to have to take you to Halsin immediately after this- you definitely need to add ‘Druid’ to your limited list of skills.
Leon sends you flying with a thunder wave and you have officially decided flying isn’t for you.
The wall hurts as you crash into it- your nose makes a cracking noise and some kind of blue liquid is coming out. Your head is spinning- the world is spinning. Your pants are ripped at the knees from skidding and your hands are raw with ectoplasm.
You’re going to die die (two times in a day? What the hell did you do to deserve this?)
Leon comes into your vision and you try to push yourself away- absolutely desperate to get away. It’s no use- every attempt at kicking out at him or fighting him off has failed and now he’s force feeding you a paralytic as he grips your scalp painfully- slamming your head against the pavement until you stop fighting back.
Tears slip down your face- you should have listened to your instincts. Now you’re never going to see Astarion again and it feels like a massive gut punch. You always waited too long and never took risks, but of course the one risk you take is going to be your last.
And it’s not the risk you wanted to take today.
I am so so sorry, Star, you think remorsefully, and Gods do I wish I told you I love you.
*******************************
The sound of Leon screaming and cursing in indignation is what snaps you back into the world.
He really fucking lost it after Cazador died, huh? Hopefully Victoria isn’t being subjected to this at home. If she is- you are going to need to locate the nearest looney bin for insane undead (it’s a literal bin, you and Astarion frequently joke about Gardening and used Cazador as fertilizer for really pretty pink flowers).
You are both in a cage (how fitting- a Birdie in a cage) and you think you may be in some kind of temple. It smells even worse than Szarr Palace and the individuals walking around are very obviously somewhere between a rotting zombie and an intelligent, humanoid. Astarion had described a man like this once- Balthazaar- and to your recollection, the man was a Necromancer.
So none of this really bodes well for either one of you right now.
“We had a deal!” Leon spits at the man looking at him in amusement from the other side, “a soul for a soul- I brought you someone else’s loved one and you owe me.”
“Hm,” the man says, “even when immortal, humans are still the dullest humanoid.”
“Ha!” You snort, Leon glaring at you, “what? You deserved that one.”
He growls something unintelligible towards you before turning to speak to the Necromancer again, but he’s already gone.
“You dolt!” you exclaim, “look at what you’ve done! You bored the man with the keys away.”
“Don’t you mean scare?”
“I know what I said- dick cheese,” you scrunch up your nose, stick out your tongue, and flip him off.
“Gods,” Leon groans, “you are as bad as Astarion. Maybe I should have tried to kill him the first time I asked to take you and he said no. Or I could have been more aggressive in my hunts, but of course the fucker has developed some basic common sense and combat skills.”
Your face must reveal some element of shock because Leon just snorts and shakes his head in disdain.
“That son-of-bitch never talked to you about that, did he?”
“Obviously not,” you quip, “does this look like the face of a person who knows what you are talking about?”
Leon looks at the ground- his shoulders slumped in defeat.
“Victoria died,” he says flatly, “Dalyria killed her before the ritual. I came here, hoping she was waiting for me, but she wasn’t able to get out of the Ethereal Current.
“I ran into that Necromancer,” he says with disgust, “and he told me that he could bring back Victoria, but he needed the soul of another person’s loved one. An eye for an eye- to complete the spell. I had already done the original groundwork- you were the missing piece.
“I asked Astarion to talk to you two days after you both left Baldur’s Gate, since we all knew he had some weird attachment to a cat, but obviously you didn’t get a say.”
You are floored. This definitely should have been a conversation for you two to have- a child literally died! You would have happily helped! You will definitely be having a conversation with Astarion about this. You at least deserve to have a say over your own life force.
“Ha, I thought he’d leave his guard down, slip up, something,” Leon scoffs, “but no. Every trap, every location, and every attempt has been thwarted by Astarion. Hells- I even fucking killed you before you left that portal and it’s like he’s still keeping me away from my daughter because he taught you to be suspicious.
“I wish Cazador had been able to torture that runt one last time or better ye-“
Somehow- your hand ends up around Leon’s vocal chords. And not just in a normal way- oh no. Your hand is submerged in his skin and is practically translucent. If you weren’t so positively pissed- you would have probably taken the time to throw up.
“You will not talk about him that way,” you leer into the man’s face and he does actually look afraid, “You would be lucky to be half the man Astarion is and if you slander his name one more time, I’m going to possess you and make you lap up disgusting, congealed blood off the floor- capiche?”
Leon continues to just look back at you in shock and horror so you tighten your grip.
“I SAID- CAPICHE!?”
Leon nods wordlessly and you let go of your chokehold on his vocal chords. You are also still in shock, but he doesn’t need to know that. He can’t know that you are very very new to this whole interactive ghost thing.
“What happens now?” You ask slowly, “do you know what is going to happen to us?”
Leon shrugs and just falls to the floor- sitting down against the cage in defeat.
“I don’t know, but I can’t imagine anything good.”
You frown, “what makes you say that?”
“Because of us.”
A chill runs up your spine and you begin to develop goose flesh along your arms. Slowly, you turn in the direction of Dalyria’s voice and what you see- you can hardly fathom. A blood curdling scream leaves your mouth.
Dalyria, Violet, Petras, Yousen, and Aurelia are all chopped up and sewn together at different places. One massive body with mismatched eyes adorning Dalyria’s head and the other eyes and mouths stitched shut. Dalyria has two tongues and drools pouring out of her mouth. They are all stitched onto Yousen’s torso but with Petras’ arms and legs. Every part is mutilated in some horrific way.
You put your face in your hands and sob so hard you begin to gag.
“Leon did this to us,” Dalyria slurs into the open, “we were the groundwork. Miss Incognito is still being worked on, but she’s gone too.”
No! You scream to yourself, no! They should all be happy- living their lives! Not- not this!
You favored Astarion, but you did like the others and you liked Victoria too. You tried to help them too when you could and they are- were- genuinely good people who never deserved this.
With shaking hands and chattering teeth- you feel something light up inside of you and a wave of red blurs your vision.
“You MONSTER!” You scream, getting up right, “you had no right!”
You kick your foot and will it to become translucent and it does. Leon’s head goes flying backwards into the cage and you try not to think about the squishy contents on your shoes.
The rage, grief, and sadness in your body is all inflicted onto Leon in crazy, supernatural ways. You are blinded by powers you didn’t even know you had, you barely even remember what actions you took or spells you unintentionally cast.
When Leon is finally lifeless and destroyed- you go to the other side of the cage and curl up in a ball in the corner.
You’ve never killed anyone and you are beginning to regret it now. Leon is unrecognizable and you struggle to look away.
Did you really just condemn a man to death because he had tried to get his beloved daughter back?
“What an impressive display of power!”
You look up and come eye to eye with a Lich of all the fucking things. Astarion is going to be so upset with you when he finds you. You can already hear him castigating you.
“WHAT IN THE WRETCHED HELLS WERE YOU THINKING!?”
Oh, you were just thinking that he may leave without you if he thought you fucked off and you love him too much to never see him again.
Just some silly little feelings is all.
For once, you are being the impulsive one. Hopefully Astarion is prepared to be the prepared one this time.
If he even comes for me, you think, I wouldn’t have gotten within 100 feet of this place if I had known there was a Lich here.
“You know, Leon said there was something special about you,” he circles the cage, “I thought he was talking out of his ass.
“How wonderful of him to have brought me such an incredible gift before his untimely demise. I suppose he should consider himself lucky- at least this way he can see his daughter again.”
The Lich chortles and a shiver goes up your spine as one of his lithe fingers reaches through the cage and strokes the side of your face. You feel your tears start up again in full force and then he cuts your cheek with his nail before lapping up the ectoplasm that flows through your veins through the cage. His breath is foul and rancid- his tongue feels like sandpaper on your skin.
“Mmmmm delicious,” the Lich smiles, “it’s a shame you’ve found a way to be useful to me and my research. Hopefully I will be able to indulge in you later.”
No, no, no! This can’t be happening.
“Pl-pleas-please don’t hurt me,” you say through sobs and tears, “I wo-won’t tell anyone what I saw- I will never come back here! Please!”
The Lich frowns and looks annoyed with you.
“Orcus help me, I hate beggars and weaklings,” he scoffs, “I’ll keep you with me so when I have use for you again- I know you won’t be very far.”
A searing pain roars through your body and the world goes completely dark.
****************************************************************
Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)
Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan @beepersteeper
Special thanks to @davenswitcher thank you for helping me brain storm 💜
#baldurs gate 3#astarion#astarion x reader#baldurs gate astarion#astarion x tav#bg3 spoilers#astarion romance#astarion x you#bg3#karlach#astarion x female reader#astarion x f! reader#astarion ancunin#bg3 astarion#astarion bg3#astarion angst#astarion fanfiction#astarion x female tav
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Johnny Guilty Gear Strive is not a single day under 37 years old. "Age: Unknown" my ass. Face of a man whose frequent all-nighters in his 20s finally caught up with him. I understand, Johnny, I empathize...
#Photopost#Beard Johnny is awakening something in me...#Jk Johnny's always been a babe. Putting a beard on him's like garnishing a good steak#And like any juicy rare steak worth it's weight I will pick him up with both hands and tear him apart betwixt my jaws like an animal#The power went out and there's so much red and bright blue lightning outside it's like an alien planet. My phone is at 50%#The wind was blowing apples off the tree in the backyard and they were bouncing off the roof haha#Tomorrow I need to go see if it knocked down any of the ripe red ones from its apex... They're small but they're delicious#Tree had so many apples this year a big branch snapped from their weight. Bees'll be happy though when the apples fall and rot#Anyway I think Johnny mostly bottoms for men and less so for women but for Johnny/Sol... well... ;^)#I've imagined that Sol only bottoms if his partner can kick his ass#Lmao this took a turn. Bored and stoned. No internet and no lights to even read by. Unfiltered Sol Radguy after dark thoughts#Suggestive cw#Drugs cw
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We're talking about Ads Again
Context for those followers of mine who weren't there: I made a post about tumblr ads being weird back in 2016 and it's literally still getting notes to this day. People responded GREAT to it. honestly, despite being like. ass old at this point and written by a literal high schooler, it's still pretty good! I thank my dad being in advertising helped significantly. I had an expert witness.
Tonight, I'm writing the sequel to that post. the sequel is this post.
let's just fucking dive into it or whatever.
why am I doing this?
okay for starters I made that post in goddamn 2016 and I refuse to believe my insights into the marketing world have not improved since then.
Also, the marketing world has CHANGED. Huge swaths of my old post are no longer relevant. What we saw with tumblr ads in 2016 was in some parts a passing fad, and in other parts the harbinger of a new wave of influencer marketing and corporate parasociality (I coined that term just now).
Honestly I've been thinking for a while that I should make an update post, but what with, yanno, adulthood, that's been kinda hard!
Well, I've missed a train, and it's Christmas, so I've finally found the time to do that.
What has Changed?
in my personal life... dad got fired!
yeah it fucking sucks. the good news is he and his wife are working towards their retirement now, shifting away from the industry overall. Good news as far as life is concerned, but it does mean I no longer have as clean a connection to the Industry as I used to.
but more importantly, why he got fired. The fact is, dad's old! I know, shocker. More than just being old, though, his field (and my stepmom's field - they both did the same work) represents an older paradigm of advertisement. he did TV spots and posters, not ad reads for Raid Shadow Legends. He was great at his work, but we're in an era of data-driven, maximalist, google adsense, low-barrier-to-entry, super-fast and super-cheap digital advertisement.
Well, more specifically,
We're on the cusp of an extinction event poised to bring said era crashing to the ground.
Pictured: the current vibes in the ad world
Siberia is on Fire and Everything is Dying
So given that my typical source on stuff like this is currently unemployed, I decided to hit good ol google (well, google and duckduckgo. fitting given what we're talking about) to see if I could get any insights into what the current state of advertising is.
and the short of it is that everyone says the end is nigh. check this out:
Digital is dead, and so is TV. God fucking damn. BY THE WAY, I loved these two articles. Chris Gadek, a man I only learned about today, is clearly an excellent writer and his professional insights are probably gonna be way better than my amateur synthesis of the half-dozen different articles I read today, including his.
blatant shilling for random article writers aside, let's get on to my half-baked synthesis, starting with:
What Set Siberia on Fire
In small part, it's the same issues facing most major companies and industries in our late capitalist world: Hubris.
As this New York Times article points out, we've got a low barrier of entry into a gargantuan industry that's increasingly pumping out slop to follow a strategy of 'more is more'. And we've all seen the bizarre mobile game ads and shady scams that have resulted from THAT.
On top of that, we've also got the fucking digital privacy issue shaking up the entire world as consumers increasingly don't like being spied on (imagine that), and the EU starts rolling out heavy restrictions on the data harvesting that was fueling a bunch of this advertisement bubble.
There's also the ad fraud. Oh, you didn't hear about that? Well, it's nothing much, just that lots of bots are clicking ads to falsify click metrics, artificially inflating the effectiveness of said ads. look, it even has a wikipedia article
oh and Facebook did it. Facebook did ad fraud. :)
and I'm not even getting into everything that works to shake up or demolish basically every advertisement channel out there - the decline of cable tv and print newspapers, the increasing use of ad blockers, the crisis of consumer trust, etc etc.
In short we are looking at a multitude of micro-crises all working together to make the environment unlivable for most current forms of advertisement.
in other words: an extinction event!
Who's Gonna Survive
And just like in a real extinction event, whether or not you survive depends on how good you can adapt to the brave new world you've found yourself in. Old school advertising needs to drastically rethink their everything if they're gonna stay afloat, and every field of the industry needs to recreate itself. As my new favorite writer Chris Gadek says,
"These crises show that there are no safe havens. You can’t substitute one advertising medium for another. Rather than pivot, the advertising industry must adapt and learn to effectively use the channels at their disposal (TV included), factoring in the seismic societal and technological changes that have occurred over the past decade and beyond."
and what is that going to look like? what's going to be the new face of advertising?
The field seems torn, at first... but also aligned, at least when it comes to the core principles:
privacy is a big issue. Seems like a lot of advertisers are seeing an end to wanton consumer surveillance, and looking into less invasive ways to gather important and meaningful data
companies that rely on selling ad space and propping up their engagement metrics are going to be relied on less, probably, because the metrics themselves are being seen as less reliable (for good freaking reason)
regaining consumer trust is going to be a massive priority in the future.
overall, we're probably going to look at a massive downturn in ads, as people turn to a quality-over-quantity strategy in an attempt to stop flooding the attention marketplace.
that's the gist I'm getting from reading oh so many different articles of varying quality from so many different sources.
So, yanno, there may be some hope out there. If smart people start leading this industry (lol), we may get to actually enjoy ads.
Yeah. Enjoy ads.
Unironically.
I know, it's crazy.
PS: if you start seeing affiliate links on mainstream TV ads, thank our lord of excellent business analysis Chris Gadek for calling it early. God, that's such a crazy left-field idea and I really want it to actually happen.
#advertising#advertisement#I'm not apologizing for the chris gadek worship. it's a good running gag fuck you.#this is probably not my best work but in my defense I missed a train and also me writing this got interrupted like 3 times today#i saw a post about ads today and it made me go 'i think the internet needs to know how much this industry is on fucking fire right now'#I am correct of course. y'all need to know.
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Hrmm... put together a roommates quiz finally after years of thinking it would be an interesting idea lol.. Though obviously not meant to be taken super seriously, I just like thinking about this aspect of personality compatibility. Like yeah, maybe you could get along with someone just chatting with them, but living together is such a different thing. .. curiouse...
#Not that I think that many people would really care since I barely know anyone on tumblr in real life and would never live with random#internet strangers lol but... idk.. I made this to give to friends from time to time and thought... why not post it here too#just out of sheer curiosity if anyone takes it what the most common results would be and etc.#My initial assumption is that most people would probably fall into the 'maybe' category and that either extreme of 'best roomates'#and 'worst roomates' would be the least common#very long also since I like to be thorough I guess#THOUGH... upon second thought... tumblr is home of the like Weird Introverts Who Sit Inside All The Time.. so maybe it's more#likely to come across compatible poeple on here. given that many of the questions are about how meticulous#people are with their scehdules or how often they invite friends over or if they like to mostly stay inside etc.#(since personally I think having a roommate coming and going and bringing random people over all the time would be too chaotic#lol... I need a peaceful quiet household)#Also I kind of don't like the way uquiz seems to do results. I was hoping it would be a number tally? I used some sort of quiz making site#before where you weight the question responses with a number (so the 'Best' response is worth a 0#The worst is worth like 5 points. and all the in between are like 1 - 4 points or something). So then it is actually possible to have a#''perfect score'' category (someone who gets a literal 0 points). and also you could weight some EXTREMELY bad answers#to add like +10 to the score instead of just +5. And someone who got the MAX possible points would be the WORST compatibility. etc.#But uquiz seems to just be like ''which category did you score towards the MOST'. So someone can give some pretty bad answers#that are VERY non compatible. but as long as MOST of their answers landed in a 'compatible' category#then they would still be listed as compatible despite still actually having some dealbreakers in there. Which is also possible with the#'every answer is a number amount' ranking system too. but I feel like that one does allow for a little more customization#and accuracy (like making the dealbreakers add like...+40 to the score or something so that#there's basically NO way that someone could answer with one of those and still get a good score. Or the ability to have a literal#'perfect score' (getting a zero) etc.#BUt anyway lol... inchresting.. inchresting... curious to consider maybe making a uquiz#for the characters in the gameI'm making like.. which npc are you type quiz or something#now that I've made one and seen how it works.. hrmm hrmm....#(< game will not even be done for like another year but still thinking about nonsense like this lol)
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Yall haha, my dad made it so I have wifi access for one hour a day. which I can use from like 14 to 21 german time. So once my mobile data is dead, I will not be active that much ig. So please dont think I'm abandoning yall.
#vent following#its fucking ridiculous. im not a fucking child. neither is my brother#no idea what my dad wants to achieve through that. “so you can relaxe more” yeah no. being on the internet is my fucking coping mechanism.#there is nothing about relaxation there. also he did that so we'll to go sleep earlier. if it really was about that.#he would need to force me to sleep. you cant just change my sleep schedule by that#anyway its fucking ridiculous as i was on a good way of getting to sleep more early but if imma do that now he will think like#“wow. im such a good dad. i fixed all the problems my child could possibly have.” which is absolutely not the case#yk. ive always fucking struggled with feeling like people cant trust me.#and him not trusting my abilities to be responsible for myself is not helping#and then boom. im feeling shitty but wait haha my coping mechanism is currently set offline.#and like also im in extra stress atm bc school is fucking with me#not only are like a bunch of tests on the way but my fucking anxiety in school is getting so bad.#i cant sit in that facility without feeling like imma have a panic attack any minute#i am in need of fucking professional mental help. and at least one diagnosis. i dont want to do shit to myself.#but in this house hold. emotions are not talked about. feelings are suppressed and mental health is an illusion#i NEED to see a fucking psychiatrist. but i dont feel like i can to my parents about that. and technically i could go without them knowing#but someone needs to educate them. and i mentally cant be that someone#and guess whos sitting in their room crying and writing about that rn. not studying for their tests tomorrow and the day after.#i bet if my parents wouldnt have done that shit with my wifi i would be studying rn#quinns daily yapping post#rather#quinns personal hell
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