#it was a valid background sound choice

[intheorangebedroom]

Tonight you belong to me, prologue

Summary: He comes to you every Friday, in a shady motel on the outskirts of town. 

This is the beginning of what you wished had no end.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!Reader (OFC)

Rating: Explicit 🔞

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday, orange besties 🧡 See series masterlist for extensive a/n blurb and especially for trigger warnings. Tread carefully. Ily 🧡 Please be gentle, I'm terrified 🫣

Word count: 5.1k

[series masterlist] * [next]

Prologue: In The Beginning

He comes to you every Friday. 

He gets in after dark. He is gone before dawn. 

In this shady motel on the outskirts of town, where no one will recognise your car. The curtains are yellow, and the carpet is brown. There’s a dollar store painting of the Appalachian above the bed, and the tap runs either trickling and scalding or high pressure and cold. 

You hated that in particular, in the beginning. Now you don’t care. You don’t wash him off your skin anymore. Not until you’ve got no other choice. 

Because he can’t mark you, you’d been firm on that point, he likes to come on your skin. 

When he’d finally spoke, that very first time, he’d told you he was Frankie, but you assume it’s not his real name. Which is fine, you didn’t give him your real name either. 

“Frankie” had been far subtler than you, regretful, perhaps, you like to entertain the delusion, when he’d hinted that you couldn’t leave any trace on his body. 

And, in the beginning, you couldn’t imagine that it would ever matter. 

You were wrong. 

You were wrong about a lot of things, in the beginning. 

—

Friday night. Again. 

The swinging door creaks on its hinges to let in the regulars at random intervals. Mostly men, mostly middle-aged, mostly unshaven. Mostly clad in the working-class uniform of jeans, boots and t-shirt. Few of them sit around the round wooden tables. The bar isn’t large, there’s only four of those.  

When they come in small parties, the men favour the two pools on the right. They’re lined with blue felt. The casing is made of plywood. No one ever plays darts, no one ever feeds the jukebox. Its electric cord lays unplugged on the floor, coiled like a sad sagging tail. 

If they walk in alone, they tend to sit at the bar. Head turned toward the giant television screen hung on the wall to their left, where younger men in more colourful uniforms fight, run, kick or throw balls in all shapes and sizes. Its noise is at the forefront, the middle-aged men’s conversations a low humming sound that falls into the background. 

The long and angled bar itself takes up most of the rectangular room’s space. The counter is stripped-down to the bare minimum. Stainless steel, easy to clean, practical. Four beer taps and a gambling machine and beyond the counter, a large mirror with three rows of dusty liquor bottles. 

Food is served, occasionally, as evidenced by the paper napkins dispensers and the two yellow and red plastic condiment bottles on each table. 

The barman runs the place on his own. You drink here every Friday evening, and you’ve never seen more than six customers at once, you included. Admittedly, you might not be very observant. 

Being observant requires endurance, far more than you possess and are willing to deploy and direct towards others. You’re not selfish, not in the least. But you’re tired. You’ve been tired for years. There’s no rational explanation for your exhaustion. No honourable, awe-inspiring, valid ground. You don’t even know what wears you out. It might be sadness, disappointment, or boredom. Or all three in equal parts. All you know is that, come Friday night, your head needs the support of the gray wall behind you.

The creaking noise on your left signals the arrival of another customer, stomping in with a sure gait. Your eyes stay shut. You don’t come to the very aptly named Hole in The Wall seeking the company of other people, whoever they may be. 

You come here to hide for a few hours, between the styrofoam ceiling and the dusty carpeted floor. To drink your week away in peace, but not in nerve-racking silence. Alcohol, you found out at a young age, has interesting properties: it blurs out the sharp edges of your dark thoughts in just the right amount. 

Back in spring, when you stepped in here for the very first time, you looked comically out of place in your corporate attire, and you did raise quite a few eyebrows from the other patrons. Five months later, they must have learned to see past the charade of your overpriced clothes, because none of them pays you any mind anymore. It’s better than anonymity: it’s casual indifference.

You loosen your grip around your tall cocktail glass and let the condensation drip down onto the cardboard coaster. Reluctantly, you lift your weary eyelids to locate the square napkin lying somewhere on the table and dry your fingertips on it.

That’s when you see him taking a seat at the counter, directly across from your small table. 

Years from now, you will still remember the precise circumstances of your first, brief encounter, even though you’re not fully paying attention yet. Nothing indicates tonight will be any different. Nothing suggests you are about to live through a pivotal moment in your existence.

Details will stand out, however. Mostly visual, surprisingly, given the dim lighting of the place. The back of his trucker hat, midnight blue plastic mesh, flattening the dark curls on his nape. The washed out denim of his shirt, worked-in, greenish in the diffuse artificial light, pulled taut across his back, as he sits facing away from you. 

The square shape of his shoulders is backlit against the bar’s mirror. Your empty gaze finds the solid slope of his broad silhouette, and you let it rest there, lazily following his movements whenever he picks up his glass. It’s the same comfort you find when you rest your empty head against the hard wall. It’s aimless, inconsequential.

Later, on different kinds of Friday nights, the sight of his muscles bunching as he tugs off his shirt will bring you back to this very moment. The thought will reshape into a sharp, wistful ache deep inside your heart. What would have happened, to you, to him, if he had chosen to stop for a drink at another bar, somewhere further down the road? What if you had done the same, back in April? 

For now, your mind is blessedly blank.

Does he catch your reflection in the mirror? Does he feel your gaze on the back of his head? 

After a while, how long, you cannot tell, he pivots slowly on his stool, grounded and dense. Slowly, like a mountain would if a mountain came to life and decided to walk into the ocean. He doesn’t turn around completely, just enough to look at you, one of his arms still propped on top of the counter. 

The right side of his face is darkened by the shadow from the brim of his hat, but you can make out the pronounced crease in his brow. His eyes are black, and unfathomable, like the ocean at night, but alight with a bright glimmer. They find yours instantly. 

Something shifts inside your rib cage, something close to the heart, close to pain. 

You feel exposed, entirely bare. Your breathing subsides, you cannot move, trapped in a nightmare-like stretch of time as he glares down at you, immobile, impressive, gigantic. Dark eyes boring into yours. You’re drowning in them. 

You don’t want it to end. 

Inevitably, he breaks eye-contact, and swivels back toward the mirror. He sits still for a few seconds, before grabbing his glass to finish his beer in long gulps. 

You watch him lift his hat and brush his hair to the side with a large hand, and he’s out the door less than a minute later, without so much as a glance in your direction, a conscious choice, given the minute proportions of the place. 

He leaves you sitting there, with your brow pinched and your empty drink, struggling to understand the rippling effects of his massive presence on your body and your brain.

You bring your fingers to your chest and rub them over your sternum, where the shifting sensation continues to prickle. 

Neither a second drink nor a third helps dull the feeling, but a fourth one is not an option if you want to get home without a DUI. 

It follows you into the darkness of the deserted parking lot, on the drive home and into the glass prison of your clinically clean apartment. It’s there when you get into bed, when you lie wide awake at 3am next to your sleeping fiancé, and it’s still there when you wake up, hungover and sore, four hours later. 

Nestled between your lungs. The memory of his cold hard stare. Of his soft sad eyes. 

It bypasses your most foolproof diversions of painful pleasure and pleasurable pain. Your attempts at hard work and your compulsive distractions. It robs you of your appetite, of your lucidity, of your ability to rest. It corners you in the first floor toilet of your office building on a Thursday morning, on the verge of a panic attack, until you consider calling your sister for help. 

Ava would figure it out. She’d get you out of that loop in which you’ve locked yourself up, she’d know what to say. With her crude words and her unforgiving formulations, she’d admonish your silly overreaction and dismissively rebuke your daydreams over a mundane interaction, probably throwing in something about your heteronormative fantasies. 

Dude, you’re all worked up because of a staring contest with a rando in a dive bar? she’d say. She’d toss the rhetorical question at your face, you can hear her as if you’ve already sweated through the conversation. 

She’s often harsh but she’s always right. 

And normally, you’d be seeking that out. For your little sister to bully some good sense back into your nebulous brain. 

But something has shifted. 

Dark curls, thick fingers, flexing shoulders. Solid arms. Cold, hard stare. 

He abraded something on the surface of your skin, and you don’t think you’re capable of withstanding Ava’s sarcasm in your current state. 

By the following Friday, you feel so vulnerable you consider going to another place, or not going out at all. 

Only, the alternative is worse. 

You walk into The Hole in The Wall convinced that your unsteady gait is betraying your apprehension, squinting to adjust to the dim light of the place. The bar is nearly empty, as always, save for a couple of bearded graying men you vaguely recall having seen here before. They all look the same to you, anyway. Another thing you hate about yourself.

The barman tells you to sit while he prepares your drink. The gesture is kind but uncustomary, and it only serves to increase your uneasy feeling. 

Within an hour of waiting, because that's what you've been doing, you register with an icy trickle of shame dripping down your sides, you realise he won’t be coming. 

That man’s presence here last week is the very definition of sheer happenstance. Nothing more. Nothing else. If anything, you’ve been a nuisance to him, ogling him while he was simply trying to unwind with an afterwork drink. 

You’ll never see him again. 

And it’s fine. You’ll move on, drift back into drifting, avoiding at all costs to process what happened to you when you met his gaze. The tree hiding the forest. 

When you walk up to the counter to order your second drink, the question slips away from you. 

“Can I have the same thing the man in the trucker hat had last Friday, please?”

The barman looks up at you from the tray of clean dishes he's pulling out of the dishwasher and he huffs. He’s handsome, by most standards, you notice for the very first time. Very tall, and broad, green-eyed with a three-day stubble. He’s probably a couple of years above forty. His head is shaved bald. He’s manly in a burly, albeit fatherly way. 

“Oh sweetheart, d’you know how many guys with a trucker hat I see here every day?”

It’s not meant to make you feel small, his tone is gentle. It’s a straightforward, factual answer. 

“What do you wanna drink?” he asks when you don’t answer. “Tired of that G&T yet? Cos I got good beer. This is a beer place, you know? Wanna try a light blonde, to start? Something stronger? An IPA?”

What do you want. You’ve been drinking gin all your life because that’s what your mother always has. Starting at 5pm in the afternoon. Would you, indeed, like to try a light blonde? Something stronger? An IPA, to start? 

It’s a brand-new world unfurling in front of you, a yellow brick road paved with what-do-you-wants.

“Sure,” you nod, “I can try an IPA.”

—

The barman goes by the name of Mark. He’s also the owner of The Hole in The Wall, you learn. Bought the place two years ago, after a painful divorce. A cliché, he adds, with a charming, self-deprecating smile.

The interaction’s short and altogether not unpleasant, and the beer, to your surprise, is fresh and enjoyable. It’s much tastier, in fact, than the cheap, tepid gin you’ve been sipping so far. It gets you drunk just as fast, but this time when you leave the bar, your mind is quiet, if not at ease. 

The following week, a heatwave hits the Tampa Bay. The melting asphalt sticks to your leather soles, like your sweaty clothes to your clammy skin, like your brooding mood to your dampened dreams. In a couple of days eventually, August will draw to an end, but the summer won’t end with it. It never truly does. It taunts you all year round, a sweltering reminder of how much you hate living here.

And if it wasn’t for the humidity, you’d be jogging the short distance between your car and the cool haven of the air-conditioned bar. 

You push the swinging door forward, eyes shut in anticipation of the blinding darkness and you stand in the entrance for a few seconds. The familiar and comforting smell of moldy dust mixed with beer yeast greets your senses as you take in the chill air grazing your naked arms. 

And then you reopen your eyes. 

He’s here. 

Trucker hat, blue jeans, gray T-shirt. Different clothes, same silhouette. He’s sitting at your table, his position a magnified echo of yours two weeks ago, hand loosely wrapped around his pint, seemingly asleep with his head propped against the wall. 

Mark looks at you and tilts his head in his direction, wiggling an eyebrow with a silent question of “Is this the guy you were asking about?”

Your breathing’s so loud you think everyone must hear it over the droning television. Mark’s brow furrows with incomprehension at the alarm widening your eyes, and you anchor yourself to his face, walking toward him in slow motion, climbing on the first high stool you reach.

“Hey. You ok?”

You stretch your lips in a wince of a smile.

“So? What will it be today? Wanna try a Free Dive? It’s local.”

You nod in silence, but then he grabs a large glass, and you ask tentatively, “Can I have only half a pint?”

Fuck, your mouth is so dry.

Behind you, to your right, you feel more than you hear the man shift in his chair.

Mark sighs, his left hand paused on the tap handle. 

“I don’t have beer glasses this small, sweetheart. Get a pint, the first one’s on me, okay?”

You reiterate your silent nod. He places the beer in front of you, and you swallow the first swigs too quickly. The back of your throat throbs with the fast flowing intake of the cold liquid, or perhaps it’s because of the frantic beating of your heart.

He’s getting up now, you can tell by the friction sound of the chair dragging on the carpeted floor, and your frightened expression turns downright pleading as you hear him close the distance between you.  

He’s at your back, sliding his thick naked arm past yours to return his empty glass to the counter. His movements are slow, deliberate. You get a whiff of his scent, a masculine musk, with a faint smell of laundry detergent, it’s wholesome, safety, comfort. You turn your head. He’s looking at you. Looking at you with intent.

He’s so tall you have to lift your chin to hold his gaze. Hard cold stare, soft sad eyes, it’s swirling violently inside your exhausted chest and he’s leaving again already, walking toward the door like nothing just happened.

He pulls it inward and you watch him exit the bar into the dusk light.

Did he come back for you? Are you going insane? 

Sixty-seven seconds. Sixty-seven seconds is the time it takes you to decide your next move. The one that’s going to forever change your life. The one that could be everything or turn out meaningless. 

“I’ll be right back,” you tell Mark, sliding your handbag on the counter and you stand up to follow him outside.

The sunset sky is a pink shade of orange. Shadows are stretching long onto the asphalt, drawing a distorted world upside-down. 

He’s not here anymore, you waited too fucking long. You quickly scan the parked vehicles on the other side of the road to your right, and the parking lot in front of you, but it’s empty, save for your anthracite sedan, a black truck and what you assume must be Mark’s old SUV, because you see it every week. 

“Fuck,” you breathe out, pressing your fingers to your sternum. 

You look to your left, where the parking ends. There’s a white utility vehicle advertising a plumbing service and a dark blue city car. Beyond them, the lot extends into a narrow stretch of gravel behind the small rectangular building. There’s a pile of junk, and the tailgate of a red truck.

Your hand drops to your side and you start walking toward it, going around the white van. 

He’s there. He’s waiting for you by the front of the red truck, behind the building. His hands propped on his waist, head down, hidden under his cap. 

You keep walking toward him, the sound of your shoes on the dirty ground grating your ears, but you stop short when he raises his head, fuck he looks even taller at this distance, with his elbows spread.

It’s like he senses your apprehension, or perhaps he shares it, because he folds his arms over his chest, hugging himself. 

For the very first time, you can fully make out his face. Strong features, a strong curvy nose, a patchy beard peppering a sharp jaw, and plush lips. Your gaze follows the solid column of his neck down to his suprasternal point peeking above the V-collar of his worn-out t-shirt, before it’s drawn back to his eyes.

He stands there perfectly still for you to detail.

Above you, the sky has turned a rusty blue. The humidity is stifling. It’s Friday the 30th, 2019, 8.17pm.

“What do you want?”

His voice is deep, and low, barely louder than a murmur yet intense, his words full and round. 

The question, however legitimate, hits you square in the solar plexus, right under your aching sternum. You fear that if you don’t speak fast enough, he’ll leave you again, alone with the memory of his soft sad eyes and his hard cold stare. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper, and god, if it’s true, what are you doing here? 

He huffs, and it’s the very sound of disillusion. His eyes grow dimmer, you think you’re not the one darkening them. Unfolding his arms, he removes his hat and takes a step closer, then another. You could touch him, if you reached out with your arm stretched. 

He looks at you like he’s already seen how your story ends. 

You could back away. You don’t. 

He moves slowly, thick body thrumming with undiluted strength and unreleased tension, eyes searching yours, giving you the time to leave, should leaving be what you choose, should you turn around and run before the hanging threat breaks like dark stormy clouds and drench you soaked. 

He slowly moves forward until he’s towering over you, until his chest touches your breasts, until the pilled cotton of his t-shirt catches at the satin material of your blouse. His scent floods your senses, he leans down into the curve of your neck and inhales you there, long, deep, unhurried. You hold your breath, still, in turn, for his exploration, nails digging into your palms, heart tripping.  

And then, he touches you. With his lips, a feather-like caress over the soft skin under your ear. Your eyes flutter shut, your thoughts are suspended.

“This what you want?” he murmurs.

His words sink under your skin, they harden your nipples, raise goosebumps on your nape in the muggy evening heat.  

“Yes.”

The cap falls onto the gravel. His hands go to your hips. Clutching you there with a rough grip and he’s tugging you closer, flush to his chest. He licks up a broad stripe along the line of your throat, pivots with you in his arms and backs you into the side of the truck, you have to grab his forearms to keep your balance. 

A guttural sound catches in his throat, like a grunt he tries to hold back, for your touch, for the taste of your skin, for your pliant docility.

Your head rolls back, you’ve gone weeks without a skin on skin contact, and now this man is hunched over you, his body swallowing yours, this stranger who’s infected your dreams with his cold hard stare and his soft sad eyes, his mouth roaming the expanse of your throat, short beard prickling your skin, and the shifting sensation inside your chest drops to your core where it catches fire.

His kisses are lips, teeth and tongue, rough and scraping at you raw in all the right ways, they trail up along your neck, under your jaw, and when they find your lips, he presses you harder into him. He tastes like beer, unfamiliar, you want to get used to it. 

The seams of your blouse strain when he pulls it out of your skirt with an impatient tug. His hands slither under the hem and find the naked skin of your back. His palms are strong, rugged and scalding and his fingertips calloused, they make your skin sizzle underneath their pressing, crackle like snapping wood, like fireworks at a summer county fair, like sweet candy wrapping. 

You're leaking hot and sticky between your hips, responding with your entire body, opening up for him, letting his tongue in past your lips with pathetic grateful little moans, winding your arms around his shoulders, over the cording muscles of his back, musky sweat dampening his t-shirt. The thick, solid shape of him, that got etched behind your eyelids.

You’re a want and a need and an empty flutter, entangled with him, whoever he may be, his tongue swirling inside your mouth, the scrape of his teeth on your lower lip, his splayed hands covering your back, his knee spreading your legs open. 

He’s voracious, harsh in his own need, snatching from you what you’re already willing to give, angling your head with a sharp pull on your hair to deepen his kiss, grunting his approval when you moan at the sting. 

Arousal keeps dripping down your fold where his thigh prods firm and brawny against the black material of your skirt that hinders the pressure. 

He growls, frustration rumbling low and menacing inside his throat. He grabs your ass and squeezes, thick middle finger pushing against the fabric of your clothes into the cleft between your cheeks and you jolt, leaping forward further into him. His belt buckle bites into the soft flesh of your belly, right where you're burning empty and wanting and shameless for him. You feel him hot and hard against your hip, and he tightens his hold, cages you within him. 

He’s big all over, larger than life proportions, you surrender to the fact with your lust-drunk mind, from the height of his frame to the girth of his sex, from his grip on your senses to the sorrow in his eyes. 

It blooms inside you like pain, blossoms of mahogany red spreading along your limbs in relentless waves, the power he already wields over you and you don’t even know his name.  

You buck between his arms, a first and very last attempt at freeing yourself, unconvincing with the scrap of your fingernails along the pebbled skin of his neck, and you press back into him again, squirming against his throbbing length, offering him some friction.  

He pulls out all of sudden, breaking the kiss, and you're left panting, ankles swaying, you’d drop to the gravel without the support of the truck, still sun-warm in the early evening, yet colder than his feverish body. 

He shakes his head with a silent no, his shoulders heaving, a wordless warning hissed through his clenched bared teeth. The simmering anger under the surface only makes you want him more, the unyielding restraint shining dark in his eyes.  

But it’s over. You know it. He gave you this, and took it back. With shaky hands, you smooth down the wrinkles of your blouse where he’s bunched it in his fists. You lick his taste off your trembling lip. You will not cry. 

He shakes his head again, you watch him through welling tears, confused, eyes flickering between his. 

Behind him, the city car’s engine revs up to a start, aggressive headlights backlighting him. His throat bobs up and down in chiaroscuro as he swallows hard. You know what you must look like in the crude white light. Supplicant, dependent, awaiting. Disheveled by his hand. Tires grate on the gravel as the car reverses away from you into the night, and with it the headlights, leaving you standing in the brown city night, urban semi darkness, and you see him shut his eyes. 

He smiles, a puzzling, sorrowful lift of his plush lips, and a new sort of ache washes over you. You raise forward on your tiptoes to peck a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. His entire frame quivers for you. A muscle clenches in his jaw, the deepening crease in his brow redefines his traits in shadows. 

He leans into you, like he wants you but he doesn’t want to want you, like he’s giving in but not entirely, because giving in would be the end of him, of you.

The flat of his palm to the swell of your breast, and he kneads your soft flesh, slowly at first, growing urgent. The back of your head hits the truck’s window when he pinches your nipple, hard, with two fingers, and you bite down a moan. 

He’s engulfing you again, lips latched around your other nipple, tongue swirling and licking through your blouse and your thin bra and you hold on to him, you cling to his frame when he bunches up your skirt around your waist, leather boot nudging your foot to the side, cock throbbing on your hip, slick dripping down your walls. 

“Stop me,” his mouth brushes the shell of your ear. It’s not a dare, it’s not a plea, it’s your last chance to back down before the free fall. 

Your pulse stutters, you arch into him without hesitation, but he pins you back against the truck with his chest, cupping you through your underwear and he curses into your neck at the sticky leaking mess he finds there.

Your naked leg hitches up rigid and tense against his leg, curled fingers, curled toes, and he hooks his index into the cotton of your panties. 

A brief stroke of his knuckles into the soft, smooth dip between your sex and your inner thigh, unexpectedly tender, before he parts your soaked lips with his two middle fingers, coating them in your sticky slick desire, and he sinks them inside your empty cunt. 

You crumble around the intrusion, forehead hitting his collarbone, slack-mouthed, a short exhale of a silent “oh.” He brings his left hand to the crown of your head and cradles you there, while his fingers pump in and out of your heat fast and rough. His thumb glides through your folds and starts rubbing at your clit, deft and precise, and you shudder between his arms, you slump into his hold. 

He keeps stroking your hair, gentle soothing sounds murmured into your ear as he fucks you raw with his hand, attuned to your moans and your every reaction, gauging what you can take before his fingers curl deeper inside your cunt, merciless, thumb pressing tight circles on your bud at an increasing pace.  

Your breathing comes in ragged and short while his intensifies. It’s pouring into your ear hot and overwhelming and you’re dissolving. Sweat beading at your temples, heat raising from his exerted muscles. 

You focus on the sensation of his flexing muscles under your clawing hands to stave off your building orgasm, it’s growing bright and blinding, searing and violent but it’s inevitable, and soon, too soon, your release flows hot and sticky into his hand. Your whines resound inside his chest but he keeps going, low husks of shhh, come on now, that’s it, until your trapped body trashes with the overstimulation.  

It’s like he can’t let go, pressing his nose heavily to the side of your face, and you struggle to resurface, blood thrumming in your veins, his angry cock pulsating against your hip. 

You let out a dry sob when he slides out of you and the rubber band of your panties slaps your sensitive skin. You don’t miss the flat drag of his tongue licking your taste off his palm, you furrow your fingers deeper into his arm with a short clench of your eyes. 

“Fuck,” your hear him quietly groan, and his fingers disappear into his mouth. 

You want to stay tucked up against him, curled up into his hold. You could live the rest of your life there, you think, between his hands and his scent, between his chest and his truck. 

You lock your ankles and your knees, hoping they will not fail you and you stand, pushing away from him and into the side of the truck. You readjust your skirt, slide it down, palm it smooth. Brush the damp hair from your forehead with the back of your trembling hand.

In your peripheral, he’s leaning down, picking up his hat from the ground and combing his fingers through his hair before he sets the cap back on his head.

You look up dazed and heavy-lidded and you brace yourself before meeting his gaze, cold hard stare, soft sad eyes, and he says,

“I’m Frankie.”

****

Bonus (having déjà vu? that's normal 😝 Gonna use this gif at the end of every first chapter I manage to yank out of my crazy in love brain):

Taglist (thank you 🧡 if you don't wish to be tagged anymore, just drop me a DM 🧡): @elegantduckturtle @mashomasho @lola766 @nicolethered @littleone65 @the-rambling-nerd @saintbedelia @pedrostories @trickstersp8 @deadmantis @hbc8 @princessdjarin @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos @gracie7209 @mrsparknuts @mylostloversbookmarks @its-nebuleuse @flowersandpotplantsandsunshine @all-the-way-down-here

#tonight you belong to me #happy frankie friday #tybtm #Francisco Catfish Morales #frankie morales #the pilot™️ #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x ofc #frankie morales / fem!reader #frankie morales / you #frankie morales / ofc #triple frontier fic #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic #frankie friday #will miller #benny miller #santiago pope garcia #william ironhead miller #triple frontier fanfiction

[leletha-jann]

Went outside to pull velcro plant out of the yard, which let me tell you does not take brain cells, so also spent the time thinking about the "WTF, Bill Heterodyne, why trust Lucrezia and not the Jägermonsters" dilemma.

And what I settled on was the concept of - indeed, the allure of - redemption.

Long post under the cut...

Bill Heterodyne, after all, could have inherently been a Thing of Evil (as he saw it; I'll put the more pulp black-and-white concepts in capitals), but instead was Redeemed by the Love of his mother Theodora, who stood between her children and their objectively monstrous father. Bill's entire life story, which he would have profoundly internalized, is that he would have been something else, something dangerous, if he and the people around him hadn't worked - constantly! - to make him a Force for Good instead.

And indeed, he and Barry went out and performed this redemption narrative in their role as the Heterodyne Boys. They were famously active, visible, persistent Heroes, trying to rewrite the story the rest of the world (after a thousand years of "Heterodyne" meaning something quite different) wanted to put them into. And it worked!

In that light, we have two separate case studies:

Lucrezia's story, at this point, parallels Bill's in ways that he would have been drawn to. (We are, of course, not looking at everything that's happened to Lucrezia since then. We're in pre-canon Lucrezia territory.) Young Lucrezia Mongfish comes from a similar background - a powerful Spark from a family of Deep Evil. But in flashback, we see her choosing - performatively or not, however sincerely or not - a different path by choosing to become one of the Good Guys and marry Bill. (These things seem to have gone together, which is a whole different story.) This is an active choice. This, I argue, is what Bill was attracted to: the idea that you, no matter who you are, can choose your nature and your fate. You can become Good - but it is a choice.

That was, after all, the story Bill was telling himself. Lucrezia's choice validated his - and his mother's choices too. The choices Theodora had died for. The Path of Righteousness could be chosen - indeed, had to be. And it's that element of choice that makes the difference here.

It's a very tempting narrative, for someone raised to despise and fear the more infamous side of his family - and indeed himself.

The Jägermonsters, on the other hand, take orders from the Heterodynes, and always have. Are famous for it, actually. Bill could have told them to be Good Guys now, and they would have listened! Dimo tells Agatha that it sounded like fun, and they wanted to try! If Bill had only enlisted them in this fine new game. But it would have had to come as an order from the Heterodyne. It wasn't their idea, and they wouldn't have done it on their own. Do you see the Horde sitting down and considering their ways and having a mass - or even individual - change of heart? No, me neither, and neither did Bill. Receiving and obeying an order to "be good guys now", to Bill, wouldn't count. Not with centuries of destruction apiece behind them. That wouldn't be a true change of heart, it would just be another order.

If just one or two Jägers had gone to Bill, individually, and said, (in the appropriate accent) "Master, we understand, we want to Be Good and do better, can you show us how?", would Bill have believed them? Welcomed them as converts? Could things have been different? I don't know, but I think yes.

Redemption is active. Redemption is a thing you do. It's a thing you work at. That's what Bill was drawn to. Not Evil itself, but the refutation of it.

Forgiveness, by comparison, is passive. Forgiveness is a thing you receive, sometimes whether you work for it or not.

(We're also into pretty solid Catholic guilt territory here, by the way, rarely to be overlooked with creators with Italian surnames. I could cite Bible verses if I really wanted to take the time, but I DO NOT.)

...I don't know if this is coherent, or new, or relevant, but those weeds were really boring, so this is what you get when I have to do yardwork.

#girl genius #the heterodyne boys #bill heterodyne #headcanons and speculation #attraction of redemption

[keeponquinning]

Yes, Professor — Part One of Three.

Joseph Quinn x Erotica Novelist Fem!Reader. 18+

Word Count — 4.6k

Summary — slightly based on this, but mainly. You're Joseph's secret writer girlfriend who you met amidst the start of his convention tours, things are hot and heavy between you two, though strained for the inconvenience of not living in the same city and not being official. You're forced to spend a week apart but plan to meet up with him back in London on the last day of his Con appearance, and after teasing him for his Professor type choice of outfits, well, you just couldn't resist showing up dressed as your professor's favorite student, now could you? We thought not.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Part One — He's in London, you? Are not. In a party for you best friend's boyfriend, you manage to get him in a call, hearing his voice, laughing, conversations wishing to see his face, but you can take what you can get.

Preview —

Warnings — Not too many, nothing really smutty happens this part, maybe some dirty talk. Established relationship, it is a big ol' RPF and my first attempt. If not your thing, that's valid AF, just don't be mean / a dick about it. I am but a drop in this massive ocean called Tumblr, just swim on past and enjoy the waves without me if it bothers, I beg. There's also cursing. 18+ so minors, PLEASE, DNI!

Notes — Oh, this came out sooner than my last one, huh?? Mainly because I decided to split this into three parts instead of one big ol' one shot. I def learned my lesson lmao I had a lot of fun writing this, dialogue and banter are my fave things and there was a lot of that in this. Kinda fell in love with these two and planning on doing an actual multi-chaptered fic with them, how they met, all that jazz, let me know if it's something you'd want. Or not, if I get just one person like "yes, please" I'll do it bc people pleasing tendencies fuel me. I've left Reader pretty vague and ambiguous but we do have her mentioning Joseph's British-ness and obviously not living in the same continent because transatlantic romance is so rom com it hurts, but, feel free to ignore that and implant your own background on her, kinda the point, right?? Alright, hope you like this! Like, Reblog and Comment, they fuel me and make my heart go pitter patter!

Taglist — @lunaapis , @munsons-mayhem28 , @inourtownofhawkins , @hopperscock ( i fucking love this url you have no idea )

"What are you wearing?"

You hear an amused chuckle on the other end of the call, along with a distinct clicking of tongue. "...don't I get a hello first or are you missing me that much?"

A snort comes out your way, totally undignified, but he'd never call you out on it. "I mean, I am, but... Shut up." He's cackling now, that laugh that makes you smile stupidly and you're glad you're on an audio call rather than face time — though you wouldn't mind seeing his stupidly pretty face. "I'm serious, what are you wearing?"

"Why are you asking?" his voice strained, amused, but strained. He must be smiling, his laughter barely dying down.

Taking a deep breath, you explain, "Because I haven't seen you in a week and from the photos I've been seeing of you all day today... I need to prepare myself for when I see you tomorrow."

"I need you to repeat that, not the nonsense about my clothes but the...seeing me tomorrow bit."

Your eyes closed, lips stretching in a smile that, in the crowded room you were in the middle of, you tried to suppress. Teeth biting your lip, eyes cautiously looking around the party you were attending but your mind being on a man across the pond as it were, you let out a soft scoff. "....I need to prepare myself for when I see you tomorrow."

"Damn fucking right you will," his voice low, almost a growl that was...unfortunate, considering your surroundings. But more important, his tone was wistful. You heard the sound of gentle squeak, taking to mean that he sat on his bed, one that you missed very much at the moment. "I can't wait for that, and you will be needing to prepare yourself once we're alone... I fucking miss you."

"Mmm, your voice notes kinda gave that impression, yeah," you chuckled, hearing his as well. "Though I enjoyed hearing them when I wake up. It's lame, but, I do miss hearing your voice first thing in the morning." You hear him take a deep breath, exhaling with a soft hum. "Among other things. Hotel beds are just a bit too cold without you."

"Mhm, feeling the same way with my own bed, darling. Have to remind myself it's just been a week, but, feels a bit longer. Can't wait to have you back, though I know, temporarily."

"I know," this time it was you that sounded wistful. You knew you shouldn't, it was a good reason you'd be away from him. The latest in your book series was out there, digitally and in a week, in physical form. The gap between that and the previous book a bit too wide for your liking, or that of your publisher and readers. It was good that you finally finished it, but in that, included a tour of the book, which meant away from him, your sort of boyfriend. "At least you'll have me for a week, well, between your filming, anyway. Enough time for your friends to get sick of me and then wish I went away to have you to themselves again and for my friends to miss the me that isn't attached to your hip."

"Hah," he scoffed, a sound of a stretch that you could only assume was him laying down on his bed. "My friends are sick of me now, keep complaining about how I miss you. Even have Wes saying if I'm this needy without you, can't imagine how you handle me by your side, so, you've somehow got their sympathy and on your side, I'm the problem now, apparently." You couldn't hold in the laugh that barked its way out of you, and you could hear the offense even from the other line. "Oi. Don't laugh, you knew I was needy from the get go, I made no attempt to hide that."

Recovering from the laugh, you have a nod, though you knew he couldn't see, "Yeah, you are a bit of a clinger." Your smile still lingering, eyes soft, "But... It's...kinda one of your more endearing qualities, so... I'll take it."

"Oh, how gracious of you, accepting that I fucking adore you to the point of being miserable enough without you and getting on my friends fucking nerves"

He always made you laugh, you didn't even know if he intended to, but you could hear him laughing alongside you, so he must have, right? "God, hearing you curse is the best, y'know? You seem like a nice, proper boy, but then you curse and it..." You shake your head, "Makes me miss you more."

You heard him scoff, a wet sound, and you could almost see him licking his lips with a smile. "I know, dead sexy and all that... Hard to resist."

A shrug of your shoulders, more to yourself, of course, "...it kinda is. Makes me wanna do things to you to make you curse more..."

He groaned, which was also a lovely noise on its own. "Don't say things like that when you're not in grabbing distance, it's not fair."

You smiled, almost wickedly, eyes catching sight of your best friend, the only reason you were away from him at the moment. "Yeah, well, at least you're alone on your bed, I'm surrounded by people in my pretty dress, not getting grabbed and kissed by you and..." you trailed off as said best friend stopped in front of you, a pointed brow arched. You cleared your throat, smile still in place, "Which is totally fine, because I'm here to support my best friend and her crazy talented boyfriend on his birthday and album release and I'm totally fine with it."

"Mhm," she let out with a nod, "What I thought. Hi, Joe, can you two say goodbye because said boyfriend is gonna start up in a few minutes and I will not have you two have phone sex while he's performing, thank you."

"Excuse me!"

"You're not excused! You're so not excused — you're not allowed."

"That's just—" you were about to say rude when you very clearly hear the cackling on the other end of your call. "Stop laughing! You're not allowed to laugh right now, that's not fair."

"I'm sorry!" he let out, his voice thin, high, and you could hear an attempt to calm the laughter — but an attempt he did not win as more laughter came rolling out, making your lips twist and wanting to laugh despite yourself. Why did his laugh have to be so infectious sometimes? "I'll stop, I swear..." he continued, making you roll your eyes, looking at the smirking face of your best friend. "....oh, god... Tell Jen I said hello."

You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, looking over at her, "The painfully British one says hello, because manners maketh the man I'm sure."

Jen cackled as well, shaking her head, "I'll give you two like, ten minutes, tops. You're introducing them, remember?"

"Of course. Ten minutes." A mock salute given, you watch as she turned toward the stage of the intimate venue, just a smaller group of closest friends. Taking a deep breath, directing your attention to your phone, "J o e."

"Oh, no, not Joe. I'm always in trouble when I get Joe instead of your usual Joseph."

"Damn right, that was not cool, I know we're not official, but, you have to have my back. It's the most chivalrous thing to do."

He snickered, "I'm... I'm sorry, I'm sorry! But, well," you heard him release a soft laugh, then heard, "...not to point fingers but you did start the conversation asking me what I was wearing... So was that...not where this was heading...?"

You clicked your tongue off the roof of your mouth very disappointingly, kind of. "No, you perv, I just wanted to know if my sort of boyfriend is going to continue dressing up as a slutty professor so I can figure out how to handle seeing that in person."

"I—" he started, but words cut off with a snicker, and then a proper laugh. "You—Okay. Several things. Don't fucking call me your sort of boyfriend. I am your boyfriend, just.... Well. Secret boyfriend. At least for now—"

"—until your publicist deems me worthy of being known to be dating you."

"No, just... Until we're more established, is all. And I am looking forward to that, taking you to events and such. I'd love to go to the book tour with you, show off how fucking proud I am of you and this book. But... I also don't want to overshadow your accomplishment, the way it's so mad right now. But I am your boyfriend, I know you say it in a joking manner with Jen and our friends, I get it, but... And it's fine to joke about it. Really. But I need you to know it's real for me and I hope it is for you, too. It... It is, isn't it?"

You smiled softly, his words warming your heart more than they should, once again blown away by his sense of sincerity. You never really dated anyone like that before and sometimes, it honestly takes you by surprise. "... Yeah, I know. And I don't mind it, honestly. I'd end things if I did... You're my boyfriend and I'm your girlfriend and...if my joking around hurt you in any way, then I'm sorry, you know I don't mean it. Not with something like this. You...mean a lot to me in a very short amount of time and...it's kind of overwhelming sometimes."

There was a soft sigh, a pleased one, from the other end of the call. "I know. I feel the same. Was never expecting you, or anyone, not like this. And no, you didn't hurt me, not one bit. There's no worry of that. I just needed you to know, I'm in this with you."

Though you certainly didn't need to hear it, there's a lightness from within your chest at his words, a light ease in your breathing and your soft smile grew wide. You didn't need him to confirm what you already knew, but, it was lovely to hear. "Me too. I'm in this, too. Especially if you're going to be sweet like that," you end with a light chuckle, joined by his own. "Not fair on your part. But, I'll let it pass."

"My girlfriend is very gracious like that, I'm so lucky to have her."

"Don't you forget it. Okay. I'm assuming you had more to say?"

"Yes, thank you for that. Was quickly getting side tracked... I just wanted it to be known that I am severely disappointed that phone sex is off the table, that broke my heart since we've been in an almost constant state of phone tag, its ridiculous," you giggled at that, actually giggled which was rare. And he knew it, you could hear his chuckle, and though you couldn't see him, you knew he was pleased with that smug little smirk on his lips. "But, I'll survive that. Also. Slutty professor? I've no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on. You dress like a romantic, slutty professor to these things and you know it."

"I think someone's too far into their own erotica stories and confusing some things, I... Dress as a professional. I have to. My stylist deems it so and I just...do as I'm told."

"...Joseph. What were you wearing today, and don't lie, I've seen the pictures. I just wanna hear you say it."

"You're being absolutely ridiculous, I... My loafers, my favorite ones, trousers, erm... Blue button shirt and... Well, a cardigan..." There was a pause, and you knew he was rethinking it all. "...beige cardigan and.....my dark grey...coat—okay. Maybe... Maybe it was a bit professor-ish. You...might be on to something there..."

"Uh-huh. Dressed like a professor who cares and has long office hours for any of his students to come by to unwind..."

"Stop that," he let out with a laugh. "That should be your next book."

"Oh, who says it won't be? I'll dedicate it to you, for inspiration. I'm assuming you'd be open for me to come to you for...brainstorming? Test out scenes, just, y'know, for the sake of art and authenticity?"

"Morning, noon and night, yes, I'm all yours and your....creativity." He chuckled, softly, there was a lingering silence between the two of you, and then a groan from his end. "Just out of curiosity... Would... I dunno, say...a sweater vest, erm... Like....Oof, a grey one with a dark jacket, that um... Is that slutty professor chic, you think?"

"I fucking knew it."

"Hold on! It was... It was a thought... Are you into the slutty professor look, though?"

"Why do you think I called you in the first place? Yes, of course I'm into it. Do you know what it's like, seeing your pics all over my social media, people sending me pics of you with that cardigan and long coat and just... Do you?"

You could almost hear his smug smile as he let out an even soft chuckle. "I do, actually... You're wearing that burgundy dress aren't you?" Your brows rose, though you didn't say anything, not yet. A soft little hum buzzing into your ear through your phone. "I've been stalking your instagram the past week, so I saw the picture you posted today. It's that burgundy dress I like. The one with the bow at the hip and the... The matching choker with the jewelry that you think is almost tacky but... I like it. Gave me something to look at the other time you wore it, remember that? Was it New Years? Took you to an empty room right before countdown, lifted your skirt and—"

"S t o p, we're not doing that, not now," though you smiled, remembering the moment quite clearly, feeling your skin flush especially as he laughed then. He had such a nice, deep, warm laugh sometimes. "...okay, so, yes, I'm wearing that dress... It's not the same, though, like, aside from that choker you love so much, it's pretty tame in comparison..."

"Mm, not for me. I love that color on you. I love anything on you if it means I can take it off of you. And—a cardigan's tame. A long coat is tame."

"The hell a long coat is tame, that's... Anyway, you wear the slutty professor really well and it's not fair. Especially if you're going to to do tomorrow. After being away from you a week... That's cruel, baby. I won't even be able to touch you until the con's over." You heard him hum, probably thinking the very same. A thought comes, making you chuckle suddenly, "I should retaliate."

"...oh god," he let out, clearly recognizing when a wicked thought comes to mind. "Pray tell, how?"

"Why... Professor..."

"....Oh, fuck."

"Yup. By dressing up as one of your favorite students, of course."

"....jesus fucking christ." You heard a small groan, "God, you would, wouldn't you? I don't know if I could take that. It's been a week, body going in withdrawal without you and the sight of you with knee high socks..."

"Hmm. Telling that the knee high is the first thing you go to. Noted."

He chuckled, "Yes, well... The thought of you in knee highs is rather... I wouldn't take them off. Not the entire time."

Your smile widened, biting your bottom lip. "Yeah? Mmm. Well, good, because I'd definitely wear your favorite colors, just for you, Professor."

"Fuck off," he said softly, though, and when you laughed, you heard him let out a breath. "Shit. I can't shake the image, now. My favorite student, dressed so pretty for me. Looking nice and soft...with uh..." He exhaled, "Burgundy knee highs, snug and soft..."

You kept a careful eye around you, trying so hard to suppress your smile. But the sound of his voice was so...alluring, finding yourself squeezing your thighs a little bit. "Keeping up with the color theme, I see..."

"It is my favorite color at the moment, especially on you."

You hummed, "Okay. Question, knee highs or thigh highs?"

"No," his voice instant, "Gotta be the knee highs. I'd want... I'd want your thighs absolutely bare. For my fingers to run and roam over the skin... And...then, y'know... I wouldn't be able to resist to kiss you there as well. Gentle ones of course, but, being away from you this time...wouldn't be long until I start biting..."

A breathless laugh escapes you, now not even caring if anyone looked or listened in on you. It had been a while since you talked to him in real time, without having to push play, it was too good to cut away from. "For someone that says they can't write for the life of them, you're not doing too bad, Professor. You might give a run for my money if you ever decide to go into the erotica business."

"Mmm, tempting, but no. I'll leave that to you. It'd just be a novel of me fucking you and I'd rather have the real thing. But... Was I good enough to get you wet for me, darling?"

It shouldn't make you blush, you built your whole career in literary dirty talk and seducing your readers with your words... But when Joseph did it, his words and voice always struck you deep. Much deeper than any other partner had, which was slightly scary and mainly thrilling. You felt the heat creeping up your neck, a soft giggle being awarded to him. "....you know you are." You heard a pleased sigh from him, taking in a deep breath as you try to calm yourself. That no, sneaking off wasn't an option, that the growing ache between your legs would have to wait, even if you wouldn't have him talk you through it, guide you toward climax in the only way he could. But. "You got me wet and feeling it now every time I walk around in my pretty burgundy dress in a room filled with people."

"Well... I'm alone in my lonely room with a very bothersome hard on and... Probably feel lonelier still when we say our goodbyes and I'll only have my hand and thoughts of you in your pretty burgundy dress, wet, wishing I can feel just how wet you are."

You let out a breath, closing your eyes a moment. "...and I'd wish it was my hand, my mouth, on that...bothersome hard cock," you heard him groan, making your heart flutter, as well as your cunt. "Like I've been fantasizing this past week."

He took a deep breath, you could hear the exhale produce static on your end, a soft hum. "Same here, love. Suppose we'll be doing the same thing tonight..."

With a dejected sigh, you have an affirming hum, "Our ten minutes are about done. Otherwise I'd sneak to a room somewhere and..." You chuckled, "Tell you in excruciating detail the things I'd do to you to make you curse." His laugh comes out at that, making your smile spread further on your face. "But. I am due on stage to introduce my best friend's boyfriend and his band, so... She'd kill me if I missed that, and then would go and kill you, and no one wants that."

"No, no, we do not. That's fine. More to release when I see you tomorrow. Probably keep you to myself for the rest of the week, fair warning, darling."

"Yes, Professor. I'm very okay with that."

The way he groaned at that made your heart flutter again, as well between your legs. You did miss him, terribly, your fingers and toys did little to satisfy you, not without his warmth, his kiss, the moans you'd swallow and hunger for more. "...keep that up and I won't want you to call me anything else."

"Is it bad I kinda like it? P r o f e s s o r?"

He gave a helpless laugh, "Shit, it is. It's very bad of you. Naughty, even. Wicked. My poor coc—"

"Tomorrow, only until tomorrow. And then I'll make it up to you, in any way you want me to. I'll call you professor if you want me to."

"I knew there was a reason you're my favorite student..." You smiled and you could feel he was smiling too. "Okay. I'm going to give you back to your best friend, again. Thank her for me, for letting me have you to myself for this long."

"I will, she'll expecting nothing less. Think of me?"

He chuckled, and you could picture him shaking his head. "When am I not? Especially right now, left to my own devices... Until I have you to myself again." You heard him take a sharp intake of breath, "Have fun, yeah? I love you."

You felt like a teenager again, at the sound of those three words, said recently, right before you left. A slip of the tongue, but meant with sincerity from you both. "I love you, too. I'll see you... Bye."

"Bye, darling. I can't wait."

There was a heaviness that weighed on you as you ended the call, knowing it had to be you, otherwise you wouldn't end it at all. The warmth of his voice lingered, the image of his face imprinted on your brain, curling your fingers around your phone. A thought hitting you like lightning, going to messages and tapping quickly.

Send me a voice note. I wanna hear you.

He liked it.

Your smile widening as you turned around, dumping your phone into your purse and with your heels, made it toward the small stage where the band were setting up. Hands went to Jen's shoulders, hugging her from behind. "I'm all yours, now. He said thank you for letting him have me for the call."

She scoffed with a roll of her eyes, "Gross, you guys are gross."

"Shut up, we're cute." Jen seeming unconvinced. "Whatever, I'm happy."

Your best friend gave a shrug, "Then that's okay." You pulled away and stood beside her, and she took a breath. "He does seem to make you happy and... I don't hate that. Just the whole...secret relationship thing gives me pause." Crossing her arms, she looked to you, raising her brow. "Be honest.... You really okay with it? Because if you are, I'll back off and be one hundred percent for you guys. Because he is nice and seems crazy about you and I haven't seen you this happy in a while... I just don't want you hurt, y'know? I'm not being a bitch—"

"You're never a bitch—" you interjected, pausing as you two looked at each other, and you smirked. "Okay, well, yeah, you are, but for good reasons. A boss bitch, through and through." You paused a bit, giving a shrug of your shoulders. "I dunno. We talked about it... I kinda get it, he kinda blew up overnight and doing...so many things and I... I can't even imagine. I got booktok and like... Well, this book tour, but, obviously nothing on his level. He seems more concerned about if it came out, he'd overshadow my book and the press for it." Which you did appreciate, you worked hard, but part of the reason you got the book done as fast as you did was his encouragement. Being the first to read your pages, his excitement over the story you crafted holding a huge part. "It would have been nice to dedicate the book to him, but, since we aren't....out, didn't really feel right."

"Mmhm..."

"But. I don't know, at first it was kind of fun, sneaking around, dodging photographers, you know. Secret affair type of thing except not being horrible with spouses to cheat on, that kind of thing? And we were casual at first, seeing other people, until... We weren't and...not casual anymore. I mean, it's kind of still fun but also...not."

Taking a deep breath, she sighed. "And how long until it's not kind of fun for you?"

Looking over at her, you frowned, hating that she had a point. "I don't know. I'm not there yet... And I'm hoping it doesn't come to that because... I'm really fucking happy with him." Raising your brow, you give her a reassuring smile. "I'll be careful. And if I'm not, you can kick my ass about it."

"Deal," she agreed to, seeming a little lighter about the situation. "So, is he still going to dress all Mr. Darcy as a Professor when you see him?"

"I swear, he's a walking Jane Austen leading man, like it's just straight up Professor without him even trying." She laughed, you joining in. "It's gotta be a British thing, it has to." Laughing a bit harder, "I teased him with an idea, though, dressing up like a student."

"Oh? Oh, that'd be perfect. Are you meeting him after that con or...?"

A sly smile comes across your face, then, looking at her with a slight chuckle. "Mmm... Don't laugh, but... I actually planned on surprising him at the con?" Your smile widened as she gasped, looking at you agape. "I bought a photo and autograph with him. I knew there'd be no chance on the day of and I thought it'd be cute, you know? He doesn't know."

"Oh, God, I hate to say it, but that's fucking adorable! And kinda genius." Her eyes widened, "You know, though... I mean... The set up's too perfect, you have to dress all slutty student."

"Hey, slutty is for Halloween, I'd be dressed as his favorite student, with knee highs, he seemed very into that."

If her eyes could widen even further, Jen's would, letting out a bark of a laugh. "Oh my god, knee—no, no," shaking her head. "You are doing this. You are gonna do this. Listen...we're gonna make this happen."

"We don't have time, I'm getting the red eye, remember? And by the time this is over—"

But she was determined, shaking her head, "Nope, look. You're gonna introduce the band, because you are my amazing writer friend and words are your thing. We'll stay for a few songs, and then I'm going to take you shopping, okay? I'm making this happen, I'm gonna make this happen for you."

"I thought he gave you pause and you're gonna work this hard to make a fantasy come true for him?"

She wagged her finger from side to side, "Oh, no, no. Not for him, for you. Look, he seems great and he probably is, and maybe there will be a time where he's like a brother to me, but right now? I believe you when you say he makes you happy and that you're happy with him, I see it, so, I'm doing this for you. Because you are my best friend and that's love, bitch."

"I love you. Like... You'll always be my first love, in a totally platonic kind of way. Only because of the fact that you're annoyingly straight."

Jen sighed, "I know, it's a pain, but, we'll always have each other's backs and our hearts, before anyone else." Her gaze going toward the stage, her musician boyfriend giving her a nod, releasing a soft smile. "We didn't do so bad, though. You're up. Make me proud of my boyfriend, okay?"

"Oh, yeah, how do you want me to go about it? Soft and emotional, very serious or...roast him but from the heart?" You both looked at each other for a moment, the answer quite clear.

"Roast him."

for your consideration....

#words did come hither — writings #joseph quinn — writings #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x fem!reader smut #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader

[stormblessed95]

So you don’t have to publish this if you don’t feel comfortable, but I kinda wanted your opinion on this.

It may sound dramatic, but I haven’t been able to call myself an army since the news of the World Cup came out. I am so incredibly disappointed in bts and bighit.

When I got into bts they brought me so much comfort and helped me through some tough times. I enjoyed their music and was always very proud of the message they tried to share with the world. Yes, some of their older content is uncomfortable to watch for the casual misogyny and homophobia, but as a queer woman I perfectly understand internalized homophobia and misogyny and I wouldn’t want to be judged for what I said or did in 2014. They had shown they had grown and learned. They always spoke up against people in power abusing it and about social justice.

So what happened? Did they became worldwide stars and decided “who cares about our message anymore! Let’s support a tournament that is basically a celebrations of the violation of human rights?”

Supporting the World Cup is basically saying they don’t care that over 6000 people died building the stadiums. They don’t care that lgbtq people die in that country. They don’t care about women and women’s rights.

This is not the bts I thought I knew, and I’m talking about all of them because if the other six were strongly opposed to this, I honestly doubt jungkook would be flying over there right now. But here we are.

I mean I could even understand that it’s a huge honor for a South Korean to sing for the first time at a World Cup opening ceremony, but let’s not forget that SK with Japan hosted the 2002 World Cup (and that was a mess as well, just google about the referee Moreno and bribes about that World Cup).

Idk I think they really fucked up this time. And if they have no qualms to stand up for human rights violations, than I don’t think I can call myself their fan. I’m also disappointed in armies (on twitter mostly) that have been insulting anyone who pointed out how this is a very poor decision that does not reflect well on bts’s character and morals. You may disagree, but you can’t deny the facts.

I read dualipa’s reaction (who I don’t follow and don’t know anything about) about being rumored to sing and the World Cup, and I can’t help but wish that had been bts answer as well.

Hi. So I'm not going to tell you how to feel. Your feelings and concerns are valid and they are your own. What you choose to do based on how you feel is also totally and completely up to you. Your choice/feelings aren't wrong either way you feel about. Nor do i want to dismiss all the issues and valid crisitisms surrounding the world cup and Qatar. So please know that its okay to be upset about it. And I don't want to bring up past controversies either but idk if you were around in 2019 or if you feel like this is any different than the issues surrounding their choice to perform in Saudi Arabia?

For background if you werent aware of the issues they faced for the decison to hold that concert, ill give an overview:

Saudi Arabia’s Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman took the throne in 2015, and he has since been making efforts to make the country more moderate and less conservative with several reforms. According to Wikipedia, some of those reforms would be: "regulations restricting the powers of the religious police, the removal of the ban on female drivers in June 2018, and weakening the male-guardianship system in August 2019. Other cultural developments under his reign include the first Saudi public concerts by a female singer, the first Saudi sports stadium to admit women, and an increased presence of women in the workforce." Regardless Saudi Arabia is still quite a bit most other countries in terms of human rights. Its bombings and attacks in Yemen have led to mass famines and deaths, and the Saudi government has been criticized for detaining and torturing human rights activists and LGBTQ people. Women also still don’t have most of the rights they should, and still require a male family member’s permission before doing things like traveling or getting a passport among other things. The Prince and the Gov there have also been heavily critized for their actions being more performantive and less about actually pushing forward more human rights. I don't know much more, so I don't want to speak to heavily on either country (SA or Qatar).

In an effort to be more modern and open, they invited many artists to perform. Among those artists were BTS and they accepted. You mentioned Dua Lipa refusing Qatar performance, so I'll also mention Nikki Minaj refused to perform in Saudi Arabia for similar reasons, citing women's treatment in the country as her reason. Regardless of her close friendships with pedophiles and rapists, she was lauded for the decision as a morally righteous one by many people. Dua Lipa's stance on Qatar is just as morally questionable as being performative based on where else she choices to perform. But that's stuff (for both Nikki and Dua Lipa) that you can look up for yourselves if you want.

BTS were questioned about this decision too actually and in an interview stated: “I wouldn’t say the decision it was easy,” Namjoon said. Jimin added: “But we were officially invited. It’s been a while since we’ve performed in the Middle East – I guess the last time was 2015 in Dubai. To put it simply, if there’s a place where people want to see us, we’ll go there. That’s how we feel.”

Many fans stuck up for BTS during this and said that this performance was for their fans, not for the Saudi government. Which is what their reasoning was. They weren't promoting the governments actions or laws or decisions. They weren't supporting it. They were going to see their fans and share love and music with the world. Both BTS and their staff was also praised for being very considerate of Saudi Arabia's cultural customs and giving space to them and following them when they could (such as not wearing gold jewelry, not showing skin during performances they otherwise do, like Serendipity, pausing rehearsals for muslism prayer times, etc)

Similarly again, just more recently in 2022, BTS were invited by the President of the United States to speak at the White House. And they accepted and went, with little criticism in that aspect. Regardless of the fact that the US is steadily stripping human rights away from people more and more, with endless human rights violations and imperialism over the past few years. With children being taken from parents at the border and put in cages, with POC being murdered by the policing force constantly, with LGBTQ people in fear of their basic human rights being taken away, with women's rights to their own bodily autonomy being argued over daily and taken away in many places in the country. They came to speak specifically about one issue, one problem, that they and many of their fans relate to and face. Anti Asian hate crimes. So they accepted. That's not them promoting and accepting and being okay with everything else.

And yes, BTS are known for talking about controversial topics about their own country in their lyrics. Standing up for people and being willing to criticize their Gov and laws at times, this does not make them politicians or responsible for making a statement over everything. That hasn't changed. Their stance on things or how they feel about it. At least, not that I can tell. I don't know Jungkook's or BTS' motivations behind accepting to do a performance at the World Cup or to do a song for them (because they did release a new verison of Yet To Come specifically for Qatar World Cup promotions). Maybe they will make a statement at some point. Maybe they won't unless asked about it. Maybe they just wanted to do something extra for their fans and found this to be a big opportunity to do so. Maybe they are bigger fans of Soccer/Football then we thought and so they were excited about that portion of this as well. We know they like Messi they've said so. They've had multiple good interactions with Son Heungmin, who is a soccer player for South Korea. We also know Korea will be playing in the World Cup to, so maybe they were asked to represent their country more at the World Cup. And they accepted. Similarly to how they accepted to support Busan's bid to host the World Expo with their free Yet To Come concert held in Busan. Despite the issues with that and with South Koreas own issues with government and laws that are heavily conservative against LGBTQ people and woman as well.

So I guess, my point is, we don't know why they accepted. Even if it's as simple as it's a huge opportunity and they just wanted to... I don't think it changes how they've made it clear that they stand in support of queer people, of women, of love. How they really value their fans and people and want the world to be a better place. They just spoke about all these values at the UN recently as well. So no, I don't think world wide fame changed that for them.

BTS are human. They are not perfect. They will make mistakes and will and can grow from the choices they make. You also, as a fan, do not have to like or agree with everything they do. You aren't even necessarily SUPPOSED to. They aren't God's. They shouldn't be placed on a pedestal of beings who can do no wrong. You will then be disappointed. You are allowed to not like this choice or to think it's a bad one. But I don't think this choice means they are supporting the fucked up violations of human rights that are present there nor do i think this choice is indicative of them not being or no longer being good people. And I think saying that this is them supporting those policies is not fact, as anon stated, but opinion. And you are entitled to your opinion and to your feelings over the matter as well. But these are mine and if you are upset solely about one thing with one place they've traveled to, but not the others, that's something that might be cause for some inner reflection as well.

#BTS in Qatar thoughts feelings and reactions

[elumish]

Hi, asking because I recently got some feedback on my writing that I'm not sure how to process:

So I read a group a snippet from my manuscript in beta, and one person gave me some light criticism about the narrator. The book is close first person from the POV of a college-aged bookworm, though that scene doesn't really focus on her book reading or education. This person told me that my use of words like "verdant" or "penultimate" didn't fit with her dialogue in the moment. I got a bit defensive and clarified that she is established as well-read, so he let it go. (He also questioned why characters in 1945 were drinking Champagne out of coupes and not flutes, granted.) But that did send me on a bit of an anxiety spiral, so I have to ask... When is fancy language too much?

I genuinely don't know. I use words like "perchance" and "superfluous" and "ergo" in my daily conversations; I'm just naturally wordy. And people have told me as a kid to tone with the language because it makes me sound pretentious. It might just be me being autistic and not understanding conversational mores, but it does make one worry.

How do you tone down fancy language when it comes naturally to you? Or am I just needlessly worrying?

I know that this isn't exactly the question that you're asking, but it seems to me that there are two issues here: is using "fancy" language something that must be toned down in writing and if so how, and did the language the character was using match the context in which they were speaking?

To answer the first one, which seems to be your question, language like that isn't inherently bad if it's the language that the character would use. You are allowed to make specific linguistic choices for your character, and it seems like you're doing that here. But if you feel like you want/need to, I would look at other dialogue and listen to poeple speak. What words are they using in place of words like perchance or ergo? How are they phrasing things instead?

You probably need to do this anyway--unless all of your characters have the same background/education/etc (and honestly even then), they won't all be speaking the same way, so you should be varying your dialogue.

But now for the other part: from your description (and obviously you know better than I do), it seems like the comment isn't necessarily "I don't know if this character would ever use these words" as "there feels like a mismatch between this specific word choice and the broader dialogue in this scene."

And that is absolutely an idea worth looking into. You may ultimately decide that you disagree, but I wouldn't dismiss off-hand the idea that the reader is feeling cognitive dissonance when reading dialogue. That's the sort of thing that will jar a reader out of your story, which you generally want to avoid.

What is it that makes the reader feel like there's a mismatch? Is the dialogue otherwise crude or rough? Is everyone else using very different linguistic patterns? Is the character having an emotional outpouring that may feel academic to the reader because of the longer/more "well-educated" word choice?

These are all points that are valid and worth looking into.

I also just want to say--I wouldn't extrapolate a beta reader getting a historical fact about champagne consumption wrong out to them not having any worthy comments. I totally understand getting defensive about your work (I think ever writer does) but dismissing them out of hand because of a random factual error does you no favors.

#elumish answers #dialogue #word choice

[imichelle-l-rigby]

Reflections: Cillian Murphy’s Limited Edition

Series 3, episode 2

———————————————————————

*I am a music prof (predominantly classical vocalist), and I LOVE listening to Cillian’s music choices! That being said, sometimes I won’t like a song simply because of a vocalist (it’s a professional hazard - sorry!) 👩‍🏫

** The following are my own observations/opinions. We may not agree, and that’s ok! That’s what makes music fun! 😊

*** I wouldn’t say I’m well-versed in Cillian’s music preferences, but I do enjoy them (for the most part). I always wind up adding to my own playlists after listening to Cillian’s recommendations.

———————————————————————

And now for episode 2…

🎵 Set 1 (Gonna Be - Sun King)

Gonna Be: an interesting beginning! I like the layers of motivic play from low, mid, and high parts of the texture. Fun instrument and sound effect choices, as well!

Come Home: harmonies are dense, but so wholesome and satisfying. It reminds me of a lot of Americana material.

Sun King: I LOVE THE BEATLES SO UNIRONICALLY 😍😍😍😍. Also, Abbey Road had its birthday this past week! 😊

🎤Talking Break

“Blathering blindly”

“Bus stops along the way”

He sounds more chill this time than last week? His voice is giving serious ASMR vibes

“Treash”

His love of close harmonies is so valid 👌

That’s adorable him asking his dad about the faux Italian in “Sun King” 😂

🎵Set 2 (SpongeBob -

SpongeBob: I promise you that this is the last thing I think of in association with SpongeBob! 😅 while this is objectively good, it’s not my cup of tea. I do like that I can understand/follow the lyrics. Well done and well constructed.

Officina stellare: I like this! A fun, atmospheric piece.

I’m not sure why this and SpongeBob go together, but the juxtaposition is striking.

🎤Talking Break:

Italian pronunciation should be: oh-fee-chee-nah steh-lah-rey

“Brilliant atmosphere of doom” ok… way to bring down the vibe, Cillian! 😅

🎵Set 3 (Weird Lullaby - Nite Owl)

Weird Lullaby: I do enjoy some good, original jazz. Swing era, and an unorthodox use of scat. I looked up Babs, and I need to find more of his stuff. He’s got an enjoyable voice, and approaches harmonies in a beautiful way.

Nite Owl: even though this is also an “oldie,” it is a STRONG difference compared with the previous!!! But I like this - what a feel good song! Good use of what is now called a “twang” vocal technique (twang isn’t just for country music).

🎤Talking Break

Now I need to listen to Frank Zappa’s Jukebox…

Joke’s on you, Cillian! First time I listened to this I was NOT “headphoned up!” 😂 I know, I’m such a rebel! 😂😂 Jk I was too lazy to go get my AirPods

🎵Set 4 (Trees, etc. - A Slice of the Top)

Trees, etc: well, it’s certainly better/more enjoyable than “Revolution 9” - that is one trippy, scary song! But I’ll be honest, I expected more “sound directionality” when he said to “headphone up,” like when you can hear the direction of the sound change from left to right. Regardless, this is a cool concept piece.

A Slice Of The Top: more jazzy, for sure. I’m loving the different riffs! Something about it sounds like Afro-Cuban jazz, but idk why? Maybe it’s the background rhythms? Fun dissonant harmonies, though!

🎤Talking Break:

“There is some coherence… somewhere”

🎵Set 5 (Dr. Ring Ding -Jack Ruby)

Dr. Ring Ding: the intro is so weird 😅 but no, this is a cool song. Again, I always appreciate some good riffs/solos!

Jack Ruby: same artist!! Wow! And man, I just wanna dance listening to these songs!💃

🎤Talking Break

A Cork specific question!

I saw somewhere someone was asking what a “boogie” is supposed to mean. I *think* (?) it’s just a jam session or performance of some kind??? At lest that’s how I’m interpreting this story.

A pub called Snotty Joe’s?! 😂😂😂

Ejected from establishments 😂😂😂😂

Corkonians

“Brilliantly sound self”

🎵Set 6 (Gone Daddy Gone - Downtown Train)

Gone Daddy Gone: ok, this is a boogie, if I say so! The instrumental track is fun, though repetitive. The vocal line is fairly monotone. Idk why monotone songs work, but they do (Mr. Brightside is a great example of monotone done right)! And a marimba solo?! Yes, please! 🤩

Downtown Train: ok… Tom Waits’ voice is not my favorite. That being said, this is a good song. It’s not something I would listen to often because of the vocals, but it’s definitely got merit. And something about this is so nostalgic?

🎤Talking Break

Aretha!!!!! 😍😍😍😍😍

Yay archive material!!!

“Baby, baby, baby”

🎵Set 7 (Baby, Baby, Baby)

Baby, baby, baby: I have no words. Aretha has SUCH a lovely, effortless-sounding voice! And her songs are so soulful! Perfection. 💯

🎤Talking Break

Thoughts on Bill: he’s eclectic. But his description is vague and I wish he’d be more specific.

🎵Set 8 (Free’s - Weird Sisters)

Free’s: the melody isn’t ambitious (almost like a recitative), but his voice has a nice, rich quality to it! And the instrumentation is fun! Almost like a little jazzy flute riff along with atmospheric backing.

Weird Sisters: enjoyable song! Definitely enjoying the slow build in texture - well done.

As a voice teacher, I want to double check some vocal production techniques of his. I’m not sure if some of the vocal anomalies I’m hearing are purposeful or not. I think they’re done on purpose, but if not, he should go visit an ENT (the doctor, not the talking tree). TLDR: vocal health is important.

🎤Talking Break

Oh no… not more weird dude from Yorkshire 😅

I’m still so confused.

Ok… an introduction to the next artist.

🎵Set 9 (Micael)

Micael: I like this song a lot. Guitar is haunting, atmospheric, and repetitive. The other instrumental and sound effects in the back are nice additions! The vocal line and it’s layers just keep adding to the strangeness of this song. It’s a puzzle, and I think that’s why I like it - it keeps you on your toes!

🎤Talking Break

An exclusive! 🙀

Oooh… a book reading!

Comments on Jarvis: yes. Music is a magic trick! His French is good. *the tingle* - yep! So important!

“Pop music was real music as far as I was concerned” - I do disagree with this point. All music is real. You may not like it, but that’s a different subject 🤷‍♀️

🎵Set 10 (Black Magic)

Black Magic: why is this such a banger??? 😎😎😎 the bell line is a really nice touch, and I like it’s unique and unexpected melody compared to the more predictable vocal line and chorus.

🎤Talking Break:

“Thank you, Jarvis”

🎵Set 11 (Harmoniser Dub - The Smoke)

Harmoniser Dub: for something with “harmonize” in the title, there isn’t much harmonizing… (I know, I’m being purposefully obtuse) 😂 but a fun use of electronic sounds and non-vocal music!

The Smoke: I like this a lot more than the previous song! Lots of unexpected rhythmic pauses, and the mysterious vocal line is cool 😎 I like how this song is constantly morphing and borrowing styles to form a whole.

🎤Talking Break

Love remixes!

“No let’s not play the ident”

“Friends”

🎵Set 12 (Lwonsome Tonight - All Souls)

Lwonsome Tonight: now I have a complicated relationship with her voice. She purposefully sings in a thin, unsupported style and in a difficult portion of her range to create a specific haunting/folksy effect. I get it, but I don’t care for it. Good storytelling, and the vocal melody has an interesting contour.

All Souls: a strong contrast with the previous song! I like the electronic distortion and sub-pulses. 👍 the piano line is reminiscent of some of the driving pulses in funeral marches, so that’s a cool touch. I would say I prefer this song to the other one featured.

🎤Talking Break

I do love covers

🎵Set 13 (PinkMoon - Paprika Pony)

Pink Moon: I like this! Fun electronic components, and a pleasant head-dominant vocal production. This is such a vibe! ✨

Side note: isn’t AURORA featured in Frozen 2?

Paprika Pony: WHOA what a contrast! This is all clear-cut edges where the previous is all soft and fluffy. I know that has nothing to do with musical qualities, but that’s how I’m hearing it tonight.

I guess this set is tied together by alliteration? 😂

🎤Talking Break

“Anthemic” - I did not know that was a word!

🎵Set 14 (Stand Anthem)

Stand Anthem: I’m sorry, Cill, but I don’t like this. I enjoyed the first 20 seconds? It does have a “We Are The World” vibe, but it’s so repetitive. I think it’s the “stand” portions I dislike most - they don’t go anywhere. There’s no sense of build or momentum, and I’d really like to have that featured, especially in an anthem!

🎤Talking Break

Yay! Irish music!

Set 15 (Foreign Fleas)

Foreign Fleas: dude, this sounds dark and scary! 🫣 but that’s not a bad thing! I’m just a wimp 😂 but there are some nice, crunchy, dissonant harmonies in the vocal line. 👍

🎤Talking Break

“Brave and moving act of communication”

“Multitudinal”

What’s a Wally???

“Mind yourselves”

🎵Set 16 (Become the Earth - Distant Sky)

Become the Earth: oddly enough, I would describe her voice as “earthy” 😂 the simplicity of this song is nice. Heavily produced stuff is nice, but so is something like this. There’s still some post-production parts, but it’s not overwhelming. I did like that descending and ascending slide in the backing vocals! That was cool!!!

Distant Sky: Nick Cave is one of those artists who has such a gift when it comes to storytelling. However, his voice isn’t my favorite. That being said, what he adds instrumentally and through storytelling outweighs his vocal production (which is also a choice, I believe). And the juxtaposition of Nick and Else Torp is just wow! Overall, this is a beautiful song, and I’m happy the show ended so strongly with this gorgeous piece.

———————————————————————

And that’s episode 2! Honestly, I’m surprised I was able to get this out by Friday - this week has been hectic! 😂😅

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Feel feee to share/comment! 😊

Tag List:

@iammrsrogers @deliciousnutcomputer @mariamoonie @brownskinsugarplum76 @look-at-the-soul @kj-davis @neverroad @teapothollow @thepurplearmyposts @possessedmarshmallow

#cillian murphy #Cillian Murphy’s limited edition #music

[leonbastralle]

GAMES I PLAYED IN 2023 - FIRST HALF-ISH

i've been seeing a lot of this in gif form but i do not have the energy or video material and also i'm late but i rly wanted to make a post where i say a lil bit abt all the games i played and how i liked them!

pokemon platinum, soulsilver, white, white 2, y, sun, alpha sapphire & shield: i started a big mainline pokemon marathon in 2022 but most of it fell on 2023. it was a lovely time tbh and i miss it! platinum was a bit too grindy (but we love cynthia) and soulsilver traumatised me for glitch reasons. my favorites out of this lineup were definitely gen 5 in terms of storyline and pokemon selection, the later ones were a bit too handholdy and slow for my taste, and alpha sapphire could not compete w the og emerald which is my favorite pokemon game of all time. i did rly love shield though but that's bc i'm a) a football girl and b) i played it on my wife's sofa askfjhkasjf. anyway music is bangers all around and i do love The Concept of pokemon so i didn't hate any of them.

lonely people potion shop: this was an absolute surprise indie gem that i found on my wife's itch.io in 2022 but i replayed it for her in 2023 so it counts. this game is a rly short very fruity visual novel where you make potions for people and chat with them. it's one of the most heartwarming and gentle games i've played, every character is so lovely and caring towards each other and also to you the player! 100% would recommend i cried a bit several times.

validate: i really wanted to love this game because a dating sim/visual novel/narrative fiction type game w a super diverse cast (in terms of backgrounds, body types, gender, sexuality, and mental health struggles) and such a lovely art style? sounds perfect! and it would be if the characters weren't so...unlikeable sjfhaksjfa. it eventually got so difficult for me to root for them and also kind of frustrating bc the routes overlap in a way that even if you get good outcomes in one route, you can still mess up the relationship in a different route (because you have routes for each of the characters) so i ended up not finishing it.

neo cab: another one i never finished but was rly intrigued by! another visual novel but choices matter type deal where you play as a taxi driver in a dystopian world where you're being replaced by self driving taxis. the mechanics and cast are really cool and if the storyline didn't stress me out so much i would've finished it by now but i definitely will one day!

coffee talk 1/2: barista simulator meets visual novel in an urban fantasy setting where you also kinda save the world one drink at a time! i loved the first one so so much and finally played it last year in preparation for the second one coming out that i'd been anxiously awaiting, it's so vibey and the characters and their storylines are so interesting and i loved seeing their heartfelt interactions! also the first game was giving such strong queer vibes but they kinda dropped the ball w that in the second game trying to backtrack on that. ruined the experience for me a little bit but still a very solid game w cool additions to the already great cast of the first game!

skyrim: not much to say about that one. my favorite classic walking simulator that i keep coming back to, still very much playable and so pretty even on the switch! unfortunately also incredibly broken so i can't finish the solstheim questlines kjsfhkajsfas fuck you todd howard

calico: wonky little game where you explore the world and also bake and own a café that you can fill with all sorts of animals from cats to snow foxes to capybaras because why the fuck not! absolutely delightful, 10/10

later alligator: lovely little puzzle game w great old timey detective vibes and a banger soundtrack where everyone is alligators. these characters are such great fun, i loved the writing and i loved learning about all of them and doing tasks for them! the minigames got a bit frustrating at times bc i was lacking the coordination skills or just general strategy and there are some completionist things i could never do because of that and the main character (the main guy you're doing things for, not the player character) can get on your nerves pretty quickly but otherwise a lovely game w a great twist in my opinion

strange horticulture: this one made it into my all time favorites too. you play as the owner of a supernatural plant shop in a place where A Lot of strange things are going on. it has a bunch of really cool mechanics like plant identification and a lot of map related puzzles to find new plants, secrets etc. the overarching story that gets revealed bit by bit from an unknown person's pov outside of the gameplay while related events are also happening in real time was so interesting, and there are a lot of cool choices you can make that lead to various more or less unsettling outcomes. the spooky vibe is SO good but at the same time it has a very calming homey feel AND YOU CAN PET THE CAT 10000/10

penko park: another absolute indie banger. probably something like a pokemon snap but the beasties look fucking stupid and kinda creepy and the lore is cursed as hell. throughout the game you explore the remains of a park that was built upon the abuse of all sorts of cute little creatures (and big creatures) and while you mostly try to take pictures of every weird looking fella in their different emotional states that you bring upon them in various ways, maybe there's something you can do to right the wrongs of the park founders! who knows! (also special shoutout because these are german devs and as a german, i am especially demanding when it comes to german games and this one knocked it out of the park) (haha the park get it)

#my games #gaming year in review #idk how tf to tag this so im just gonna slap some random ones that ill hopefully be reusing eventually #theres a second part some other time bc i played too many games skjdhfksdf #it was the unemployment

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

hi

I'll start this by saying you can ignore this ask if it's too annoying bc valid

but I just saw some absolutely bullshit takes when I was scrolling through mdzs posts

some people claimed that:

- jin guangyao and wei wuxian are the same and both killed for revenge so if wwx isn't evil then jgy can't be either (I- excuse me??)

- jgy did so much good for people and wwx just........ saved some wens (lmaoo???)

- jgy killed nmj out of self defense (ok so why did he keep coming back and acting nice playing/poisoning him for probably weeks if not months then????????)

- (this one is just crazy) wang lingjiao was just some poor commoner woman who couldn't fight back so wwx is awful for what he did to her

....

I'm sorry am I the crazy one here because these takes sound straight up INSANE to me like did the people who wrote it read the same novel I did??

"wwx stans are so hypocritical how can they say my baby's evil while they stan this cruel murderer who doesn't let his corpses reincarnate :((((" bitch????

I'm fairly new to the fandom and I can be wrong so can you tell me if I'm missing something (I doubt that i do tbh) but you seem very sensible and I just needed to get it off my chest

I'm not even saying people can't enjoy characters that are evil/morally gray bc some of my faves from other works are just that... but if you have to pretend these characters are some saints who didn't deserve what they got and drag down the main character just because you're salty then I don't think you like your "fave" all that much tbh

I hope you don't mind me ranting in your askbox, if you read my message then thank you for your time! Have a nice day! (I hope I didn't ruin it too much haha)

Hello anon! No I don't mind at all for this, rant away if you need to as I make my inbox open for it.

As to the idea that Wei Wuxian are similar, in terms of their status they had been born to, yes. But that's about as much of their similarity as they get. Just as how Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji are literary mirrors due to similarities in circumstance, but not mind or ideals. Yes, Wei Wuxian did kill in revenge, but he never denies this. He fully admits to this unlike Jin Guangyao, who continues to say he had no choice but to kill those that wronged him. The difference there is that, Wei Wuxian had been tortured, his guardians killed cruelly, his own sect almost was decimated by the ones he killed. Where as with Jin Guangyao, he killed many that endangered his political position or, verbally insulted him in some way. Between the two one's actions of revenge was foremost for the ones that had been wronged. For Jin Guangyao it was concerning his own ego.

Jin Guangyao never did anything for the common people. We are told several times in story that Lan Wangji, and the Lans are the outliers for this sort of thing. The watchtowers are nothing more than a repainting of the Wen's Advisory Offices and keep in mind, it was still under the approval of Jin Guangshan that they even were created. From a Jin Guangyao who wanted to please his father foremost. He also burned down a brothel of prostitute women, where in that, shows he cares for commoners of his own background?

A scum of a person, can be human and sympathetic, but it does not change that they themselves are in the end selfish, cruel and manipulative. That's what makes them terrifying, they use that sympathy to cause more hurt. Wei Wuxian never holds others hate of what he had done as unfair, just that he would not take rebuttal for what he never did and stands by what he did. Jin Guangyao never takes any sort of responsibility towards the ones he drags into his schemes and continues to say he needed to with no sympathy for the ones who had been innocent, saying that he should be the one pitied and forgiven.

You can like and enjoy an evil, just don't paint it as a saint when that is what the very work is against and criticizing. We are told that Wei Wuxian is meant as an ideal of morality, who this is still argued about and he is labeled "morally grey" and "just as wrong as the others" is just wrong from a literary and plot point of the book.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wei wuixan #is our moral ideal and compass #no matter how bad you feel for yhe antagonists #they are still shown to be awful despite the circumstances #they had an excuse once but once they hurt innocents that's irrelevant #and Jin Guangyao would never be different as he would always be resentful since his mother still raised him #and even her memory didn't stop him from being a scum man #jin guangyao stans block me (｡･ω･｡) #i hate jin guangyao

[notafraidofredyellowandblue]

My final thought on Vilnius rehearsal.. (might be a bit long 🌺)

My tumblr habit is to post a few things in the morning before i go to work, and then the rest after work in the evening. This morning i shared a few posts/asks i got about Richard at the Vilnius rehearsal. During the day i received several more asks on the subject, anon and non-anon, with possible explanations, support or comments on this morning's asks.

Normally i share all the asks i get, because i believe every opinion is valid. But i've decided to not do that in this case (apologies to everyone who took the time to send me an ask about it today) and only share one last thought on the Vilnius rehearsal.

I ❤️ Rammstein, I ❤️ their music, they make me happy (and sometimes sad, in a good way, if you're a Rammstein fan, you probably know what i mean).

I want the band to love playing for us, i want them to be happy that we're happy, i want them to have fun.

In general in bands i love watching guitarists at work, i love to watch the stuff that goes on in the background, and Rammstein is no exception, but i love each of the guys, for various reasons.

In the last few tours, the band visibly had fun on stage, all of them laughed a lot, there were little asides when one or other didn't follow the script 😊 little gettogethers, teases, little pranks.

I love that, it makes watching them live even more fun than just listening to their albums.

From the Vilnius rehearsals, the first clips i saw, during the show, what people filmed with their smartphones, were clips of everyone enjoying themselves, apart from one: Richard.

Richard seemed to me in his own bubble, looking at the audience, but hardly interacting with anyone on stage, constantly turning away to the people in his own corner. Some of the fun interactions we saw in the last tours, he completely skipped, didn't make eye contact, ignored what others were doing, especially Paul who is always easiest to interact with because of his playfulness.

That hurt. Physically hurt.

It shouldn't have, but it did.

To me it looked like he was ready to leave the band alltogether, right there and then, before the tour even started

Yes, i'm an even bigger dramaqueen than he is 😊 but that was what it felt like, just from watching these clips.

It took a long time, and several chats in support with others in the fandom (you know who you are, thank you for that 🌺), to come to terms with what i'd seen from the clips.

And then Richard resumed his weekly ig posting with an old pic of him smiling, relaxed with his cigaret 'on the road again'....and i breathed a sigh of relief...okay, he's not quitting.

Richard has no idea how his bubble came across to me, will never know. He was just doing his thing at rehearsal, going through the songs in the right order, making the costume changes work, fiddling with his sound. Didn't seem to have fun, but maybe wasn't even looking for it. Had i just seen the photos that have been posted later by various people, i probably wouldn't even have reacted this strongly...it was those earlier clips that did it.

Today on my way to work i realised that in the end: my fun should not be depending on whether *he* is having fun. I'm responsible for my own fun, like he is for his. I want to fly to Vilnius, shake him and tell him "Enjoy this damn thing", but they'd probably intercept me before i even got there 😊 I hope he's more open to it, able to leave his bubble.

I want the band to have fun on tour. All of them. And i would love to see fun interactions between them because they so obviously show the fun.

I really hope Richard joins in the fun, that he makes that choice.

Like my fun is my choice 🌺

I ❤️ Rammstein

#vilnius rehearsal #long rammble

[wisedawn13]

#xiantober Day 23: Detectivexian

Wei Ying loves his job. Sure, a lot of it is boring surveillance that either leads to absolutely nothing or the proof that "Yes, your husband IS a cheating scumbag." He's not complaining about that though, he's still paid for his time.

He's always enjoyed solving mysteries and playing spy growing up, so this seemed like the perfect career choice for him.

It's a slow day when someone about his age comes swirling into his office with the most dramatic flair he's ever witnessed. They flutter their fan and sit.

"You have to help me!"

Wei Ying shifts forward. "What do you need help with?"

They shut their fan, slamming into their open palm. "I think my brother's boyfriend's boyfriend is planning to hurt my brother and I need the proof," they say simply.

Wei Ying blinks. "Your brother's boyfriend is trying to hurt him?"

They shake their head. "No, no. My brother's boyfriend's boyfriend. My brother's boyfriend is polyamorous, my brother is not. But I think my brother's in trouble with the other boyfriend. They don't get along."

"I see... And what makes you think the other boyfriend is going to hurt your brother?"

They quickly open their fan, covering part of their face and shifting their eyes around. "I don't know, I really don't know."

"Mhm... And you said they don't get along?"

"That's right."

"Do you know why that is?"

They shake their head. "I don't know anything."

"Sure sure," he dismisses. "Well, tell me their names, I'll see what I can do."

They smile. "Wonderful! I'm Nie Huaisang and money is no issue at all. I was a thorough investigation."

Sounds like a good deal, if a bit odd. "You got it. Now, their names?"

"Right! My brother is Nie Mingjue. His boyfriend is Lan Huan. It's Meng Yao, the other boyfriend, that I want you to look into. There's something off about that man, I just know it."

Wei Ying nods, jotting down the names and relation to each other so he doesn't get confused. "Alright, you can leave your information with my assistant out front and I'll check in with you when I have some news."

They stand up quickly and shake his hand, thanking him profusely.

Wei Ying watches with wry amusement as they leave his office. What a unique individual.

He gets to work.

First up, as always, is a routine background check of everyone involved. He takes his time going through various databases looking up each individual.

He also takes time to look into those who are shown to be close to them to get a feel for them. It's basic, routine stuff. But this time Wei Ying finds himself getting off track when he stumbles upon Lan Huan's younger brother. He is so stunningly beautiful he gets distracted.

Eventually, he forces himself back on track but he secretly hopes he gets a chance to meet Lan Zhan in person.

When he gets to Meng Yao he finds something strange. His online presence and accessible information are far less than the average person.

It's not unheard of for people to come up like this on his searches. More often than not when that happens, that person is hiding something. Wei Ying doesn't jump to conclusions based on his preliminary searches, but that is a bit of a... shall we say, rose-coloured flag.

It's not exactly a red flag. People have had very valid reasons for this before and they were completely innocent of what they were being accused of. But, he clocks it all the same.

Wei Ying sets out after that to do surveillance and get a read on how this guy lives his life.

He carefully follows Meng Yao for a few days without anything much happening. The guy seems normal enough, but Nie Huaisang was right that something was off about him. He can't quite put his finger on why he feels that way, though.

So, he watches.

Meng Yao seems nice on the surface, but on his second day of surveillance, he watches Lan Huan interact with his two boyfriends. Nie Mingjue does nothing to hide the disdain he holds towards Meng Yao, but Meng Yao is sneaky.

Wei Ying watches closely as Meng Yao smiles sweetly in front of Lan Huan but the moment his boyfriend isn't looking Meng Yao's expression switches like a flip. It turns into something dark and hateful. It gives Wei Ying chills to watch that happen.

Lan Huan is clearly unaware.

Wei Ying honestly hopes that Meng Yao just doesn't like Nie Mingjue much and puts on a nice act for his boyfriend's sake. He truly hopes it's only that.

But something nags at him that there's more to it than that.

Then, on the third day, Wei Ying follows Meng Yao out of town.

Meng Yao makes his way to a deserted warehouse and gets out of his car. Wei Ying watches through his telephoto lens as Meng Yao meets with someone. Wei Ying can't tell who it is from this angle but he makes sure to take lots of photos.

Then, just as Meng Yao leaves, they turn.

Wei Ying snaps a photo of their face and the gnawing, nagging feeling grows. He's seen that man somewhere before, but where?

When he gets back home he pulls up that photo and cross-references it, searching for a match.

It doesn't take long.

Xue Yang.

Arrested for mass murder.

He got off on a technicality. Wei Ying remembers hearing about that case, Jin Guangshan was the judge presiding over the case. There was an uproar over it and then Xue Yang disappeared without a trace, some celebrity dated someone, and everyone forgot about Xue Yang.

Wei Ying does a deep dive into Jin Guangshan and ends up finding out he has a long and promiscuous history that resulted in his having many illegitimate children. Wei Ying freezes when he sees it. A report from another PI that was hired by Jin Guangshan's wife.

They found out that Jin Guangshan met up with a woman with the family name of Meng. The same Meng as in Meng Yao. There's a photo of her and when Wei Ying studies it alongside Jin Guangshan's face, he sees it clear as day.

Meng Yao is Jin Guangshan's son.

This is getting far more twisted than he ever expected it to.

He spends a little more time deep-diving into everything and everyone involved in this. He genuinely believes Nie Mingjue is in serious danger if Meng Yao knows Xue Yang.

He shoots off a text to Nie Huaisang as he leaves his apartment, and then another to his assistant to send what he found to the local law authorities. Then, he heads to Lan Huan's house and hopes he's not with Meng Yao tonight.

He rings the doorbell and fidgets nervously.

Lan Huan answers the door and smiles at him with a hint of confusion. "May I help you?"

"Hi! Sorry, you don't know me but I'm a private investigator and I was wondering if you were available to talk about something rather important."

"Oh? Of course, do you mind if I ask—"

"A-Huan?" a sickeningly sweet voice calls from further in the house. "Who is it dear?"

"A private investigator," Lan Huan replies.

Then, to Wei Ying's ever-mounting dread, Meng Yao comes into view and smiles at Wei Ying. "Oh, I see. Come on in."

Wei Ying forces a smile.

"Thank you, but I was hoping to speak to Lan Huan alone if you don't mind," he replies.

Meng Yao's smile sharpens into something almost predatory. "Nonsense, I'm sure I can be of help to you too. Come inside, Wei Ying."

Wei Ying's smile immediately falls from his face.

Somehow, Meng Yao already knows who he is.

The dread grows and grows.

He glances at Lan Huan but the man seems almost blissfully unaware of the murderous undertones happening right in front of him. Wei Ying curses his luck and forces the smile back on his face. "Of course."

He enters.

Meng Yao leads him into the livingroom and then tells Lan Huan to make them some tea. The moment Lan Huan is out of sight Meng Yao's smile drops.

"Why are you here?"

"I think you already know that," Wei Ying replies.

Meng Yao hums. "Perhaps."

"It truly is unfortunate that you're here. You've ruined everything. Who hired you?" Meng Yao continues.

"I'm not at liberty to say."

Meng Yao scoffs. Just as he opens his mouth to say something more, Lan Huan comes back in carrying a tray of tea.

They sip in silence for a while before Lan Huan sets his cup down. "What is it you wanted to talk to us about?"

Before Wei Ying can respond, the sound of a key turning in the door catches their attention. He's up in a flash.

There's a sudden shattering sound and a blur.

Then, a sharp pain pressing against his neck. Wei Ying freezes, barely breathing as the cool steel of a knife presses against his skin.

"A-YAO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" Lan Huan exclaims.

"Ge?" a low voice questions from the entryway before the sound of footsteps comes.

Wei Ying sucks in a breath as Lan Zhan enters the room, fierce eyes taking in the situation. Seeing him in person is even more stunning.

"Wow," Wei Ying mutters under his breath and feels the urge to laugh at the absurdity of this whole situation.

The knife presses down harder.

"Did you hire him, Lan Zhan?" Meng Yao asks, venom dripping off his tongue.

Lan Zhan's gaze meets his own and Wei Ying feels everything else fall away for a heartbeat. Lan Zhan doesn't say anything for a moment, blinks, then replies, "No. I have never met him before."

Oh, the urge to smile and flirt is so strong right now but Wei Ying realizes that would be immensely stupid to do right now. So, he opts to just stare at the beautiful man in front of him.

"A-Yao," Lan Huan pleads. "Let him go! What are you doing?"

Lan Zhan frowns.

"Sorry, A-Huan. No can do. My hands are rather tied at the moment." Meng Yao laughs frantically.

"Meng Yao," Wei Ying says and then hisses as the knife presses down harder. "Look, if you let me go, nothing has to happen. You haven't done anything yet, right?"

"Ah... Wei Ying, you and I both know that's not true, now don't we?"

Wei Ying grimaces, wishing for a way out of this stupid situation.

The sound of tires screeching into the driveway draws their attention. And things happen fast after that.

Meng Yao gets distracted enough that he loosens the pressure on the knife enough for Wei Ying to launch at the opportunity and slam his head back, feeling the sickening crush of Meng Yao's nose on the back of his head. Meng Yao screams and Wei Ying stumbles forward.

He's caught by strong arms before he has the chance to fall, the scent of sandalwood enveloping him. A booking voice yells out "MENG YAO!" before Nie Mingjue comes in and quite literally kicks Meng Yao while he's down.

Nie Mingjue starts yelling and questioning Meng Yao.

But Wei Ying is distracted by Lan Zhan, helping him upright and looking into his eyes with concern. "Are you alright?"

Wei Ying almost whimpers. "Y-yeah. Peachy," he lies.

Lan Zhan hums, clearly not buying that. Which... Fair.

Local law enforcement comes running in next.

Lan Zhan pulls Wei Ying firmly against his chest to keep him out of the way and Wei Ying melts into the touch. The rest is a blur. He thinks he answers some questions, he doesn't really remember it. All he remembers is staring into honeyed eyes.

The chaos finally dies down and Lan Zhan asks if Wei Ying would like anything. Without meaning to, he blurts out, "Your number." Shocked, he smacks a hand over his mouth and blushes furiously.

"Mn. Give me your phone."

Numbly, he does.

Lan Zhan enters his number.

Wei Ying stares at it as he takes his phone back. "I wanted to meet you, you know. But not like this." Again. His mouth just needs to STOP TALKING WITHOUT HIS GO AHEAD!

Lan Zhan hums in question but when he peaks up to see his expression it's one of calm curiosity.

Wei Ying takes a breath. "I always do background checks and research into the people I'm investigating, that includes people close to those involved too. So, I looked you up." He feels himself blushing again and looks away.

"Did you like what you saw?" Lan Zhan asks.

Wei Ying laughs, startled. "Yeah. I liked it very much."

When he meets Lan Zhan's gaze again he finds Lan Zhan smiling minutely. "Good."

Wei Ying smiles wide. Good.

----------

Link to thread

#xiantober #wangxian #mdzs #threadfic #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #lan wangji #lan zhan #wei wuxian #wei ying #from twitter #wisedawn13 #fanfic #fanfiction

[loumands]

Oppenheimer was one of the most viscerally upsetting movies i've seen in years. I'm not even sure why it effected me so strongly, maybe because i had just been talking with my mom about the subject matters this movie touches (she works at the refugee reception services so war is often in her mind especially now with the influx ukrainian refugees) and i've been thinking a lot about how our history and future seems to be endless cycles and even though i want to believe the world will get better i'm not sure it will. I often feel fear and hopelessness when i think about the future.

I think this is Nolan's best movie. It's like he carefully took notes of everything he's been criticized for over the years (plot, dialogue, incoherence, characters, sound design) and systematically improved them all. Unfortunately his writing of female characters still sucks though Emily Blunt does her best. This is also an overwhelmingly white movie, i think i saw one darkskinned person in the background lol. Technically it's nearly perfect. It's 3 hours of mostly talking yet i was on the edge of my seat the entire time. Ludwig Göransson's score is phenomenal. Cillian Murphy is mesmerizing and RDJ is also coming for that oscar.

I think this is probably the most smart and respectful version of the movie you could do about Oppenheimer - unless you think such movie shouldn't be done at all which i think is valid. Oppenheimer doesn't really portray its protagonist as a 'flawed great man' like you'd expect and is uninterested in pitying him - it actually posits many times that Oppenheimer's remorse may have been performative manipulation to get people to pity him, and as he wryly suggests at the end it worked. This movie is also unusually unambiguous about the reality of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and their motives. The bombings are usually depicted as horrific but at least ambiguosly necessary, like 'it was a difficult choice'. Oppenheimer is refreshingly clear that the bombings were a completely pointless exercise of cruelty and posturing that caused not only unfathomable suffering but caused a chain reaction that is still going on to this day and will quite possibly eventually destroy the world.

However, i wish the effects of the bombings would've been addressed more directly. I think not showing Hiroshima was a good choice, but it also kind of removes the victims from the narrative. And since the movie focuses so much on the Trinity test i think they could've addressed its effects as well. It was clearly a conscious choice to omit what doesn't directly affect the main characters, it reflects their callousness and in Oppenheimer's case also his tendency to look at the world in abstract way and overlook the reality and real people. I still think Nolan could've and should've found a way to include at least Trinity's aftermath in the movie in some capacity, especially since many people aren't aware of it and this would've been a great opportunity to make it more known

#sorry this is long but again this movie affected me so strongly #i'll be thinking about that ending for a while #oppenheimer spoilers #keanu.txt

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 193 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: mowing the lawn.

"but the mist that curls its bitter weeping ache around his legs that bristle up with shivered gooseflesh stained with red that’s not his blood whose blood he bled but this is not from him and yet he knows he loved this blood when once it beat within a heart that joined to his through choice or circumstance but now it stains his weeping edges scarlet gloating now of all the butchered ugly fates that might already have befallen what you still might boast he loves at hands that might be moved by others or that might just now be his what have you done what have you done what have you done what have you done " Uhhhh... That's going to age horribly...

JON: "To someone so close to it, I imagine it would be a state of… agonised bliss. I can feel it… the… completeness of it all passing out from him. I can see everything from here, and that’s still just a hint of what he must be feeling –" MARTIN: [Warning] "Jon…" JON: "– as he watches a man run screaming down endless dark alleys that close and crush and press –" [RUMBLING SOUNDS START TO RISE] MARTIN: [Hard warning] "Jon…" JON: "Hm?" MARTIN: "Stay with me." This is the moment it seems we're losing Jon. Until now, yes, the fear fed him and it felt good for it. But now he really seems to crave it, consider it...

MARTIN: "Look, I know it’s all about dream logic and metaphor and all that… stuff, but, y’know, what if we just… what if we just grabbed him and, y’know, pulled him down? Or just threw something heavy at him?" It's a valid idea. Also I would love an Elias pinata! OMG, tma-themed party with an Elias pinata! An you get a pipe prop to beat it!

JON: "Ah, no, it isn’t that – Ahh…" [CEASELESS CHANTING CEASES] [BACKGROUND STATIC LIKE RUSTLING PAPER ECHOES THROUGH THE CHAMBER] [STATEMENT STATIC RISES] MARTIN: "Again? But you just did one for Ro– [Realisation] Oh no…" Those gasps of Jon that follow! Like he can't even try to swallow it down again, or keep it together a bit longer. Completely gone, he can only take one last breath before the wave hits him.

And another job interview! These are really heavy Eye stuff...

"He feels that prickly panic building in the back of his skull, that worry that spills through: he knows. He knows I’m high." Okay, imagine me, calmly pushing the lawn mower up and down the length of the garden, suddenly bursting into laughter XD

I wonder what's up with the parts that are spoken by Jonah!Elias. It is Ben's voice in there, and it is the same effect as Elias has as pupil of the Eye. Is this statement a group project? Jon and Jonah!Elias singing a duet?

"The image of a scuttling, filthy creature, eight eyes glinting out in the darkness, crawls into his mind, and he shudders, looking away for a second. But the uninvited thought keeps going. He imagines the spider moving up his leg, his body, he imagines feeling its bristling hairs against the skin of his shoulder, his throat, his cheek. It’s spindly probing legs finding their way up his face. Elias can’t stop himself picturing that spider sat there, venom dripping from fangs that hang, poised over his eye. He can’t shut his eye. A cough from over the desk breaks his train of thought. His interviewer is staring at him, and all at once he’s back with himself, burning with embarrassment. Those eyes stare, impassive and stern as ever, but… is that a twinkle of satisfaction? As though he has been given him an answer he likes." Elias did something like this with Rosie as well... Did he do this at every interview? What would this have looked like at Jon's interview? Martin's? Sasha's? Tim's?

"What should he say? That he had no idea why he wanted this job? That he was all alone in the world, no friends, no family, nothing but the deep certainty that he deserved better." Jonah preferred people like these I think. People who wouldn't be missed if they suddenly vanished, or had a sudden change in personality.

[STRANGE STATIC RISES. A FAINT REPEATING RUMBLING SOUND STARTS UP] "Elias has the briefest of flashes, a sudden burst of terror, an image of himself, strapped down, helpless." I like that repeating rumbling sound that keeps playing for the rest of the statement.

MARTIN: "Was that… the real Elias? Is he still in there then?" JON: "No… No. It was…" Me, pushing the lawn mower: "An Echo!"

JON: "an echo." me: “HA!” (I'm so proud of that moment XDD)

JON: "If we kill Jonah Magnus, I take his place." MARTIN: "Oh god." JON: "And I think… that’s exactly what it wants." Is this what the Eye wants, or is this what Jon wants...? Also Martin will comment on this perfectly in the next episode...

@a-mag-a-day

#a-mag-a-day #mag 193 #tma #tma spoilers

[directedbywomen]

Today I reupped my Netflix subscription so I could watch Descendant directed by Margaret Brown. Visit the film's official website to find out more about the making of Descendant and to learn about actions you can take to preserve "Africatown’s story and fighting for its future."

"History exists beyond what is written. The Africatown residents in Mobile, Alabama, have shared stories about their origins for generations. Their community was founded by enslaved ancestors who were transported in 1860 aboard the last known and illegal slave ship, Clotilda. Though the ship was intentionally destroyed upon arrival, its memory and legacy weren’t. Now, the long-awaited discovery of the Clotilda’s remains offers this community a tangible link to their ancestors and validation of a history so many tried to bury.

Director Margaret Brown’s layered contemplation explores the interplay between memory and evidence and the question of how history passes and is preserved. Brown also reveals the enduring power imbalance that persists between the descendants of Timothy Meaher, the man who chartered the illegal expedition, and the descendants of those who were enslaved aboard it. The Meaher family owns much of the heavily industrialized area that surrounds Africatown. Elevated cases of cancer and illness are prevalent there, but the Africatown community persists. Residents celebrate their heritage and take command of their legacy by bringing their history to the surface."

Listen to filmmaker Margaret Brown talk about her filmmaking process in this IndieWire interview... "So the whole time I was making the film, I was always very cognizant of how do I translate the experience of how I feel — the smells, the sounds, the sort of lushness of this place alongside this gray blight — into a movie? Because I come from a poetry background, but film is this visceral thing you can almost enter into, and I just felt like the world of Africatown was that visceral and I wanted to offer that up to the audience to know what the community was a part of, or what their life was like."

Also look for Brown's earlier work... Be Here to Love Me: Townes Van Zandt, The Great Invisible, and The Order of Myths.

#directed by women #Margaret Brown #indiewire #documentary #Clotilda

[tenebrisdivina]

Spirit based Trauma

Warning; This is a mature, sensitive and heavy topic with discussions of abuse, trauma and may be triggering for some people. Disclaimer: I am not a medical practitioner. What I talk about is from my own experience of dealing with this (a lot of researching, learning and healing) and what has helped me along the way. King Paimon has suggested I speak on this, so here goes.

The spiritual trauma I am talking about here is not what it usually is associated with ( Trauma created by humans in spirituality) - I am talking about abuse  and consequent trauma from spirits themselves and how this affects the energy body and physical aspects of an individual- that I have noted.

Background: (Trigger warning)

As a brief background and I am not comfortable sharing more than this. While I have had a few experiences with this kind of trauma throughout my life one of the most prevalent and recent is this; One of the Demonic Divine- Lord S, a few months after becoming His spouse, Lord S gave me away to an “unknown” eldritch being who tortured and abused me (I am speaking of actual torture here) for 4 months straight. I came back from this event with basically C-PTSD (which I had never experienced before then). Since then, I have been on a journey of healing from this.

After this event given the confusion and trauma of this happening, I reached out to long-term, mature, well versed and grounded, experienced practitioners who worked with similar beings (and were not connected to or “involved” with me during the 4 months) in a hope to gain clarity and a more unbiased and distanced view on this event. All of whom confirmed that this event and its particulars did actually happen and I was (rather obviously) traumatized from the abuse etc. I am mentioning this here as I am aware that this can sound like spiritual psychosis, or something imaginary or “made-up”. But this was not the case- this event and its particulars did actually happen. And I will get into a little more detail about discernment later on.

Lastly as for Lord S and reasoning, why I am still with Him etc- there were various factors at play here and it is complex, however it is an informed choice I have made, and I am content with this. This type of area is Lord S’s domain and it is what He and His people are like and deal with regularly- it is what their civilisation is like and it is why I do not talk about this here and would never recommend anyone to try connecting with Lord S. I was aware of this- (it must be said though in a more innocent and foolhardy manner) when I first connected to Him. I have made a free and informed choice to continue this relationship which tbh is now much better than it was previously. This; however, was also due to the work I put in to understanding, coming to terms with and making my peace with all of this and with Him. (So please, if anyone is of the mind- do not try to convince me otherwise or that this is wrong or bad- you may have your opinions, but you are not me nor have you walked where I have).

What is Spirit Based Trauma

However enough of the background, the focus of this topic is not about abuse itself but spirit based trauma and healing from it. This is a complex topic as well. It should go without saying that if you are experiencing trauma (of any kind) then seeing a good qualified trauma therapist is the most beneficial way to work towards healing from this. I am as stated above speaking from my experience, discoveries and knowledge of this topic and what I have discussed with a few others.

I have come across the suggestion in some spaces that spiritual trauma is not as “bad” as more physical traumas. As though it is somehow less “valid.” But having trauma is not a competition of “who has it worse.”  Trauma should not really be compared anyway since everyone experiences it differently and has different reactions to things. Suffice to say though actual spirit based trauma is as “real” and “valid” as more “physical” traumas. While it may not have the affects of say physical abuse- it is often more akin to psychological and/or emotional abuse reactions. It is not exactly the same though.

There are a few schools of thought in regard to treating trauma effectively. (This is not a scientific essay though- so if interested I would suggest researching this more thoroughly). The basic explanation of trauma is that it is an uncompleted loop (usually survival response- linked to the autonomic nervous system) that lives in the body. And the basic idea - especially in some schools of thought- is to (if possible) work towards allowing the survival response to complete itself in the body. Thereby resolving the loop and freeing up the “frozen tension” of trauma. Of course, there is also a lot more to be done in relation to this and trauma therapy is quite complex. It can eventually involve inner child work, shadow work etc. since a lot of areas are linked. It may also depend upon the type of trauma as well, how the individual reacts and their needs etc.

Personally, with spirit based trauma and its effects- I tend to take a blend of a shamanic and TCM view coupled with more neurological explanations on how it effects the human body. Since the body is also energetic; disease, “attacks” or in this case; abuse on a spiritual level ( I don’t just mean like violence, I also mean psychological or emotional abuse as well) can make its way through the energy bodies down to resting in the physical body due to meridians, qi etc and the “physical” body also being energetic and how all these interact. (This is quite a bit more complex then this brief summary). On a more neurological level- since the human brain in many ways; is unable to distinguish “real” from “imaginary” ( imaginary being more associated with spirit senses in this case), it is likely that the brain interprets this as really happening ( which it is, just not in the way the more physical aspects of the brain and neuropathy often connect with) and so the body has the same response- since it is a traumatic event. If the survival reaction is not allowed to complete- for whatever reason, then trauma becomes locked in the body. There is also the whole connection of the astral body to the brain etc- again it’s much more complex than what this summary suggests.

In spirit based abuse; trauma patterns do reside in the physical form. Alongside this though there is also often more damage (then in more purely earthen/physical non-spiritual traumas) to the energetic bodies and sometimes the trauma patterns also reside in the energy spirit body.

Healing

I have found that if one has spirit based trauma- then it is important to both consider the physical (usual trauma therapies) and energetic (energy body) healing as well. Trauma therapies that are commonly used in psychology etc are very relevant and beneficial for also dealing with this type of trauma, since it does affect the physical body too. Especially therapies that focus on bodily movement and embodiment. Often in spiritual trauma the energy damage can also be quite “ungrounded” since it happened on a non-physical level, it is even more beneficial for healing to allow the energy to move through and out on a physical level. All therapies and treatments are also multifaceted as well – including more mental and emotional work as well as physical ( and in this case energetic) aspects.

With this next part; I am not advising anything here (or that anyone try anything)- apart from seeing a trained therapist. Also everyone’s trauma and needs are different, what worked in my situation may not be what is best for other people. This is just what has been helpful for me in dealing with my trauma. Personally I found embodied movement (creating a safe space for oneself to allow oneself to  fully feel, emote as needed and move freely as your body guides you too), dancing (a practice I have previously used to express emotion) and going into nature alone and screaming- especially in the acute phases (since there were issues with my voice being blocked and unable to express during the event) were particularly helpful to release and move the energy. Eventually EFT tapping, journaling and speaking about the event outloud has also been helpful. Being listened to by an open, non-judgemental and unbiased party especially in regard to spiritual trauma- is quite beneficial. Since I have found it can be an issue about believing that it actually happened. Having someone you trust to listen can be helpful in grounding and recognising this has happened. Eventually I also moved onto, when the event was not so acute- inner child work, shadow work, and returning to the event (very delicately with a lot of framework to be able to do this- since it can retraumatise you). I have also (especially in the acute phases) engaged in energy healing both purely on the spirit side of things and acupuncture- which have both been very helpful. It is a work in progress and slow and the demonic divine have also guided me along the way and opened opportunities to heal as well.

Demonic Divine Healers

In my experience some of the demonic divine who are most helpful for dealing with trauma are as follows.

 Lord Azazel is an excellent healer quite “the all-rounder” in a sense, though He does focus a bit more on chakra/ energy centre healing and parasite removal- He does have good advice about what needs to be done, and who to go to or where. He is also quite tolerant and friendly for beginners.

Lord Leviathan- He is excellent for emotional healing and acceptance and shadow workings as well- though His energy may be a bit heavier, He is quite understanding and calming. He also is associated with Justice (in all forms- which may be different from what humans think of it) very strongly.

President Marbas- specializes in energy healing (among other methods) particularly focused on meridians/nadis, energy centers- more aligned with the physical- energy body- but can work effectively on all of them. He is quite solar aligned.

Lady Verrine- more energy healing- as in the flow of energy centers and she can help with emotional understanding and context as well. She is quite earth aligned and almost green mother.

Emperor Satan- while not specializing in healing per say, He is excellent for Inner child work and acceptance of darkness. He is also helpful for protection and strong sense of justice- though it may differ from what humans think of it as.

Lord Abaddon- is great for inner child work, shadow work and protection- also works in the realm of justice- though it is much harsher. Lord Abaddon’s energy I would not recommend since it is very heavy and dark- so unless you are well healed and /or familiar with His energy before the events took place- He is more advanced and his energy can trigger you. Even though He is understanding- He is quite formal and severe.

Lord Uphir- While Lord Uphir is known as chief surgeon- I honestly would not recommend him unless another spirit you work with has said to go see Him specifically. He gives off a bit “mad scientist energy” His energy itself may trigger you and while He has great understanding of all healing and is exceptional at it- usually He is uninterested or “doesn’t have time for” humans and their issues. His focus is more anatomical and the mind, but He is very cold. He is also quite an advanced Demon Lord to connect with energetically anyway and not for beginners.

Some other demonic divinities who may be helpful also include Lady Unsere- as She is of Life, Lord Lucifer and perhaps Lady Lilith depending on what trauma you have. I am sure there are other demonic divinities who are also excellent for aiding in trauma but I won’t list Them all here. It can also be helpful to call upon those you regularly work with as well.

In terms of other beings- if you choose to connect and have a pantheon- try the healing or more life giving deities in the pantheon.

Spiritual Areas to Address in Healing

Acute Phase Healing

On the more spiritual aspects of healing etc and especially what to do acutely- when the incident/s is still quite fresh- the basic advice; do a thorough cleansing, banishing, cord cutting. Also grounding and shielding is very important. It is up to you after this if you want to get in contact with spiritual beings or practice again or not ( and it can take time to work this out too)- but it is beneficial to take it slowly. If the perpetrator has items like a shrine etc then cleansing ( and most likely banishing) those items thoroughly (will get rid of "nasty" energy and also if it was something masking or pretending to be the being- the items may be affected as well). You may wish to fully dispose of those items, though I would suggest that maybe they are hidden away and out of sight for now. In case for whatever reason, you wish to contact the being again eventually. I would also suggest taking a break from spiritual groups you are part of- as they can lead to more confusion. And you may not feel connected in the same way as you once did- this is normal. Stepping back a bit from spiritual practices may also be helpful and focus more on the mundane life. I would also suggest that the most important thing at this time is to deal with the trauma- however is necessary and best for you. Be gentle, give yourself space and time and express as needed to. Try and find a therapist or at least when you feel ready start researching. Also in the case of it being a spiritual incident; if you are connected to another spirit- not involved in the incident, who you trust fully- maybe eventually connecting to them. It is also important to note that depending on the type of abuse etc your spiritual senses may not be functionally all that well either. In which case, taking a break, grounding and divination can be helpful. But don’t push into this too much.

In terms of discernment and getting to the “truth” of the matter- I wouldn’t push it all at once and especially not in the beginning. In a sense it doesn’t really matter as much as healing does. It may be helpful eventually for you or it may not. But in acute phases dealing with the immediate trauma is more important than searching for the “truth.”

In terms of discernment this is a bit of a tough subject to address- but sometimes and quite often the perpetrator may not be the being you think it is- or your mind/senses are interpreting it as. More often than not it is parasitic or something masking as another being- especially if it is showing up as a god or god-level being. Actual abuse by an actual god, demonic divine being, god-level being - that humans are connected with etc- is quite rare, though not completely unheard of. This is why the cleansing, banishing etc is important too.

That is also why it can be very helpful to go and get divination done- by an outside unbiased party- ideally someone who is practicing (long-term and maybe professionally, maybe a community leader) the same current as you and is familiar with the deities/spirit etc involved. This can be beneficial for getting a more unbiased viewpoint on what has been happening. However I would only do this when you feel ready and safe enough to do this.

It is not a good idea to; go to your social media followers, your friends, someone who does not work with the entities involved etc. Since it can be an echo chamber- which will not help with discerning whether what happened was in imagination, spiritual psychosis or something else, or whether it was actually as you feel it was. Also, I strongly advise especially if you are still in acute phase do not post about on social media. Either you will get the echo chamber effect ( which can lead to retraumatising or wild unhinged beliefs) or you may get devotees who work with the being( if they are well known) attacking you about it. Neither of these are useful for your healing.

What needs to be focused on beyond all of this whether it is “true” or not, is if you have trauma- then deal with the trauma; focus on healing that. In a sense, regardless of what other people say. If you are traumatized by a spirit ( by this I mean actual legitimate trauma not what most people seem to have co-opted the word to mean) then what is most necessary for you at this point in time is to heal from that, regardless of whether it was truly “real” as you feel you experienced it or not.

In terms of the Demonic Divine- Those that humans connect to, do not as a rule maliciously abuse or attack humans. I am aware that this seems to be the standard kind of response- when people talk about “traumatic experiences” especially in regards to gods or demonic divine beings. While this is true for the most part- there are exceptions. And sometimes listening too much to what others say, when you have had a legitimate traumatic experience; such a response of disbelief or that “you are obviously sensing/interpreting it wrongly,” does more harm then good and can in some cases lead to unintentionally gaslighting yourself. There is nothing wrong with looking for or wanting answers for something, especially as impactful as this. That is why I advise be careful who you share it with, because especially if it is acute phase, others comments can potentially affect you more then usual. Since you may be in a traumatized and more sensitive state. It is also why I advise speaking to a trained therapist about this because they know how to handle this, better than people online.

Sometimes however I understand that therapy is not an option- your next best option is research but tread carefully. In terms of length of time I personally don’t like the common though that PTSD stays with you for life, I mean maybe it does but that sounds very defeatist to me. Healing is basically life long though, and depending on the severity of the trauma, you may not be able to “be what you were before it happened.” In my experience some parts may remain and can be found- but some may not. It wasn’t until 4 years after the event (and consistently working on healing for that time) that I even recognized part of myself from before the event, still lived in me. And it may be different for everyone.

Inner Alchemy with Trauma and Pain

Lastly for more spiritual in depth on this as something extra. This is an advanced practice. I do not advise anyone really attempt this (without a lot of training, a lot of determination and certain predilections), but it is an available option. In my personal practice (long before this event happened) I was familiar with inner alchemy and using pain as a form of transformation- I had studied and learnt how to do so- it was among my proclivities. Since dealing with trauma- something that you can choose to do- if you feel to- is alchemise it. Now you may not want to and that is absolutely fine, it is a choice. You can and do heal either way.  However if you choose to alchemise this (which is by the way a lot of work)- it can be very helpful to know the reason as to why this (the abuse and subsequent trauma) happened (especially if it is a god or god-level entity- whether you want to work with Them , that pantheon again or not). In order to get to this stage though- you need to not be in an acute phase of trauma. Do not do this right after whatever the incident is- however much you may be seeking to understand things. Because when you are in an acute phase of trauma- you a likely very emotional, very easily triggered and quite blocked and biased and seeking this will not benefit your understanding and growth. If you do attempt this understanding at this stage; it will most likely retraumatise you, since part of it is looking in depth at what happened and questioning yourself, your shadow etc. If you take on the role of trying to understand why this( the abuse event) happened; then you need to be able to distance from your trauma, from the trigger space and be more even-keeled with your emotions. Because you must go beneath and beyond the trauma and your feelings, thoughts etc. about the event- in order to be open enough to understand from a birds-eye, almost objective, unbiased viewpoint; what happened and why. Otherwise you can end up damaging yourself more and blocking what actually needs to come through. The understanding gained from this, is only the first part of the alchemy; but it is basically seeing what you can get out of what happened- silver lining etc, learning from it. But being willing to have your assumptions and beliefs shattered- which can be very tough especially when you are dealing with trauma and survival responses as well. It is also a long ongoing process and you have to be determined and focused.

The Demonic Divine are not "Safe"

A final note; I mentioned in my darkness posts; but what to reiterate my stance. I do not believe that working with the Demonic Divine or in the darkness is safe. S Connolly seems to have planted the idea that the demonic divine will never lead you astray, hurt you etc. I and my experiences in this beg to differ ( I am also aware that my experiences are not everyones). While for the most part the Dark Lords do not maliciously attack or act on humans, this is not always the case. It is not a safe path, at least not in the way that many people seem to presume it is; as though the practitioner or devotee etc is in control of or in charge of  what is going on and everything is sparkly and wonderful in that you will never be hurt, or faced with hardship. Pretty much everyone- even advanced practitioners (because of the nature of darkness) is essentially wandering around in the dark, bumping into things and not having much idea of anything beyond their own experience. We are all still learning and discovering new things, and very often its not even in the same “arena”. This makes this path and working with the demonic divine (Who live, breathe and are darkness, and so are aware of so much more than us) very much delving into the unknown. And the unknown is not a “safe” place to be. It is also why I do not suggest people who have never worked with spirits before and do not know basic practices- do not start with the demonic divine. They are magnificent beings (with all that entails) but working closely with Them can be quite tough at times.

To conclude, I posted this under guidance and sought to bring more awareness to what this is actually like- in dealing with spirit based trauma. For those that have experience with this- I wish you the best on your healing journey and may you find and have what you need when you need it.

#demonic divine #spirit work #paganblr #spirit abuse #trauma healing #demonolatry #lhp #theistic satanism #witchblr #eldritch entity #deity work

[saltydkdan]

Any reason you don’t want to do a face reveal, I am personally of the attitude of “keep my personal info off my internet account” so I get if that’s all there is to it, but given it’s also kind of an in-joke at this point that you haven’t done one, I was just curious if there was anything beyond just wanting to keep to yourself.

Also I think I followed you on Twitter for like 2 years without watching a single one of your videos and the regret of wasting all that time not watching your amazing content still eats at me :) keep up the good work Salto!

So this answer has kind of morphed over the years.

Originally, I was never planning on doing YouTube as a job or a business. I always planned to make stuff for YouTube and monetize it, but I always wanted to find ACTUAL work someplace else, like a more secure job. The concept of never attaching my face to my videos, gave me a slight amount of anonymity, so that nothing present on my channel could affect my job search. Like… imagine people doing a background check on the shit I do in my spare time haha.

But as time passed and COVID started hitting hard, I had just graduated from College, and the job market was pretty fucked for a while because of it. My wonderful/amazing girlfriend Jess suggested to me: “Derek, why don’t you just try out YouTube as a job for a while.”

It was something I had always semi-considered. But it was never something I had thought would be feasibly possible. One thing comes to another and now here I am!

One of the big reasons I still haven’t done a face reveal now, despite not having to really be anonymous anymore, is for 3 major reasons.

1. Ive come to enjoy the anonymity to an extent! I don’t know if I’ll feel like this forever, but it’s cool knowing I never have to worry about being recognized or something. One time I was in a college class for an entire semester, and through conversation, I just happened to figure out that one of my classmates was a MEGA fan of my YouTube channel and never realized who I was. (I know, that sounds insane but it actually did happen! IRL my voice is a lot more calm than when I record and try to boost up my energy haha)

2. There’s no real need to do a face reveal as of now :) What’s great about having a 2D avatar represent me, is that it sort of adds to my personality, and I have full control over my looks. Sometimes things can be funnier when they sound like they’re coming from a small marshmallow looking 2D cartoon character haha.

3. This one is kinda sad… but I have a pretty low self esteem on my appearance. Don’t get me wrong, I like how I look. Some days I’ll think I’m one handsome motherfucker, but other days I’ll just feel at my absolute lowest about how I look. Right now, I’m trying to work through that, and make more healthy choices to improve my health (and therefore, my mental health). I just don’t think exposing my appearance to the internet, as I exist physically and emotionally right now, is a great idea. I don’t think I can take the unhinged comments from internet weirdos about how ugly they think I am or something. This is also why I stopped doing full/half body cam streams like the Alvin and the Chipmunk videos. The comments on those are just upsetting and I can’t help but read them to validate self loathing.

Anyway, sorry about the downer, but I hope this answers your question? I’m not opposed to it in the future by any means, just not right now :)

Also just a reminder for those reading this, everybody gets low self esteem, or goes through tendencies of self loathing. It doesn’t go on forever, and you can get through it.

[lakesbian]

now that Letter Hour on lakesbian dot tumblr dot com has concluded it’s time 2 present my own alec song choices. gotta show my own ass on song choices if i’m gonna issue decrees abt the validity of other ppls choices

how to be a heartbreaker - marina & the diamonds

i don’t give a shit. i love being on the nose. his entire Deal And Problem is being groomed to be like his dad, heartbreaker. being taught. How To Be A Heartbreaker, Even! i think i’m funny. you can’t tell me that the lyrics to this aren’t objectively accurate to how the heartbroken operated re kidnapping people. also, m&td sounds how alec’s gay little cape costume looks.

alligator blood - nicole dollanganger

I'm a sucker for the love of the flesh All things rancid and delicate But the smell in the summer heat It still gets to me Knee-deep in the poacher's dream He dragged that thing out back and he Hung it upside down, slit its belly open And let it bleed out And he held my head and made me watch He filled my mouth up with its blood and said "Grow up weak or grow up tough"

enough said. bonus points for the mention of the summer heat + the shitty childhood memory alec recalls in his interlude specifically involving not speaking for an entire hot summer (and fall...and winter...) + the emotional abuse being described as the emotional equivalent to staring into the sun for too long. grow up weak or grow up tough!!

cigarettes & chocolate milk - rufus wainwright

this whole thing fits pretty damn well--verses 1 thru 3 with the ‘and then there’s those other things. which for several reasons we won’t mention.’ is such A Sentence you can say about alec--but the real highlight is

Playing with prodigal sons Takes a lot of sentimental Valiums Can't expect the world to be your Raggedy Andy While running on empty, you little old doll with a frown

easily one of the Most Regent Sentences Ever. can’t expect the world to be your doll/playtoy while you’re running on empty, you little old doll with a frown ♥ 

i cut myself - talkshow boy

this one is a bit more of an abstracted choice. it’s very Alec how it self-reports shitty mental health in a very casual, almost bored way--jumping between describing Problems w/ chaotic background sound and then going back to a very monotone closing word that makes the entire thing sound alarmingly blasé. 

there Is an entire animatic for this in my head, and my life would be great if i knew how to animate in mspaint. just go listen to it and rotate alec in your brain, if you don’t catch the vibe you’re doing it wrong.

note that interpreting “i touch myself,” “and everywhere i look i always find myself aside myself,” “i think i’m all together but i tear myself apart,” and “you fuck yourself way too hard,” in the most literal, body-snatching power-having way possible, is crucial for properly understanding the Vision.

(talkshow boy cover of hurt is on the playlist for similar reasons)

#worm #there are Certainly a lot more songs i could list off but unfortunately this post is already long as shit due to #i am so bad at brevity #if you disagree with any of these decisions. No you don't and also you're wrong.