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#when I did the budget it was all wrong
mitamicah · 1 month
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I need to think out loud - feel free to ignore
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opera-ghost · 1 year
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i'm kind of obsessed with this high school production's PONR blocking where the phantom reveals himself by guiding christine's hand to take off his hood in a sort-of caress???
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dontmindme2600 · 1 year
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Honestly from a writing perspective, I think the Pomefiore house has the best character development so far?? I mean this is probably purely due to luck because their house was right around when the books started getting longer, they play a big part in Ignihyde which is almost comically long, and just had an event themed around one of their dorm members but HOLY SHIT. Even if I don’t always agree with Vil I just respect him as a character because of the whole arc he went through, Rook is always fun to be around, and Epel is out here having like MULTIPLE character arcs, which is way more than I expected. It almost makes me wish the other dorms had stories this long so we could see what this would be like for every dorm, but I don’t want to sound like I’m demanding anything from a team that’s already working hard lmao. Idk I’m rambling but anything involving the Pomefiore members is guaranteed to FUCK (I could write whole paragraphs on Vil and Epel alone)
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lockedtowers · 2 months
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seeing ppl in the tags super used to the j/apperwock(y) in b/urton's alice and then getting mad at how 'ugly' the s/yfy version is is absolutely hilarious to me bc the s/yfy version is literally just lifted from the original illustrations
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alpaca-clouds · 6 months
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Why the media CEOs will always learn the wrong lessons
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Yesterday a friend and I talked about how the entire (AAA) game industrie looked at BG3 being as popular as it is and going: "Oh, we need to produce 100+ hour games, I guess! Those sell!" Which... obviously is not why it is popular. The game is not popular because it has 100+ hours of gameplay, but because it has engaging characters, that are well-acted and that work as good hooks for the players. Like, let's face it: The reason why I so far have sunken 160 hours into this game is, because I wanna spend time with these characters - and because I wanna give them their happy endings.
But the same has happened too, just a bit earlier this year, right? When Barbie broke the 1 billion and every Hollywood CEO went: "Oh, so the people want movies based on toy franchises! Got it!" To which the internet at large replied: "... How is that the lesson you learned from this?"
Well, let me explain to you, why this is the lesson they learn: It is because the CEOs and the boards of directors at large are not artists or even engaged with the medium they produce. They mostly are economists. And their dry little hearts do not understand stuff more complex than numbers and spread sheets.
That sounds evil, I know, but... It is sadly the truth. When they look at a successful movie/series/game/book/comic, they look at it as a product, not a piece of art or narrative. It is just a product that has very clear metrics.
To them Barbie is not a movie with interesting stylistic choices that stand out from the majority of high budget action blockbusters. It is a toy movie with mildly feminist themes.
Or Oppenheimer is not a movie to them with a strong visual language and good acting direction. No, it is a historical blockbuster.
And this is true for basically every form of media. I mean, books are actually a fairly good example. In my life I do remember the big book fads that happened. When Harry Potter was a success, there was at least a dozen other "magical school" book series being released. When Twilight was a big success there was suddenly an endless number of "teen girl falls in love with bad boy, who is [magical creature]" YA. When the Hunger Games was a success, there were hundreds of "YA dystopia" books. Meanwhile in adult reading, we had the big "next Game of Throne" fad.
Of course, the irony is, that within each of those fads there might have been one or two somewhat successful series - but never even one that came even close to whatever started the fad.
Or with movies, we have seen it, too. When Avengers broke the 1 billion (which up to this point only few movies did) the studios went: "Ooooooh, so we need shared universe film series" - and then all went to try and fail to create their own cinematic universe.
Because the people, who call the shots, are just immensely desinterested in the thing they are selling. They do not really care about the content. All they care about is having a supposedly easy avenue of selling it. Just as they do not care about the consumer. All they care about is that the consumer buys it. Why he buys it... Well, they do not care. They could not care less, in fact.
So, yeah, get ready for a 20 overproduced games with a bloated 100+ hours of empty gameplay, but without the engaging characters. And for like at least 15 more moves based on some toy franchise, that nobody actually cares about.
And then get ready for all the CEOs to do the surprised Pikachu face, when all of that ends up not financially successful.
Really, I read some interviews yesterday from some AAA-studio CEOs and their blatant shock and missing understanding on why BG3 works for so many people.
Because, yeah... capitalism does not appreciate art. Capitalism does not understand art. It only understands spread sheets.
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I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:
AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?
I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.
For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.
None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.
The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.
He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.
I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."
I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.
Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?
What are these acronyms?
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The update
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ddejavvu · 9 months
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'oh, you LOVE me!' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)
The team visiting Spencer for one reason or another on their day off & reader opens the door (maybe even wearing one of Spence's shirts) and that's how they all find out Spencer is in a relationship?
The doorbell rings, and even if Spencer weren't hobbling around on crutches with a rolled ankle, you'd have bolted to answer the door. You've got new shoes coming, a treat from your boyfriend himself, and they're set to arrive today before 9PM. It's 6, and you're eager to finally put them on.
However, it's not the mailman at the door, not unless the US Postal Service has gotten a huge budget increase. The man that stands at the door is dressed in a fine suit, something you're sure cost more than double what your shoes had, and he seems mildly surprised to see you behind the door.
There's a posse of people behind him, and you wonder if this is some sort of special delivery system. But no one seems to have your package, and you tilt your head at an angle, "Can I help you?"
His eyes narrow infinitesimally, curiously, "Yes, we're here to see Dr. Spencer Reid," The man speaks up, his voice deep and smooth, "Did we have the wrong address?"
"No- No! Hotch," Spencer shouts from his place on the couch, and you hear the clatter of crutches, "Hotch, wait!"
"Spencer," You gush, ditching the door to make sure he doesn't tip himself over in his sudden pursuit of his callers, "Spence, go slow, you'll trip."
"I'm fine," He pants, moving as fast as he can to the door, his cheeks unusually rosy, "Uh, what- what do you guys need?"
Upon sighting him, the rest of the people behind the door exchange glances with each other, like they hadn't quite believed just his voice. You're hovering awkwardly behind Spencer now, looking up at your houseguests curiously, and waiting for them to speak.
"We brought you cookies," A blonde woman behind the man in the suit pipes up, hands decked out in jewelry as she brandishes a ziploc bag of treats, "And- and Morgan has medical tape he thinks you should use on your ankle, and JJ made a casserole, and we just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"I was going to offer to hire you a live-in nurse," An older man pipes up from the back, a suit jacket draped over his shoulders, glancing back at you with a small smirk, "But I'm not sure that's necessary."
"Thank you for the stuff." Spencer reaches out for the bag, keeping his crutch stabilized beneath his shoulder, "Y/N, can you- the casserole, um-"
"I got it," You jump forward to help, taking a dish from another blonde woman standing beside the first. The bottom is warmed, and she smiles kindly at you as she passes it off, nodding at your thnaks.
"Here's the tape," A man pipes up, muscles straining the t-shirt he's wearing as he sets a roll of medtape over the foil on the casserole. He grins at you, and the expression shifts more into a teasing one when he speaks to Spencer, "Sorry for interrupting."
"Oh, you weren't interrupting," You shake your head, "Are you- you're Spencer's coworkers, right?"
At their round of nods, you readjust your grip on the casserole, "Would you want to come eat with us? We could-"
"Our apartment is messy," Spencer cuts you off, hand already on the door to shut it on their shit-eating grins, "Thanks for the food, sorry you can't stay. See you tomorrow."
He shuts the door without offering them another word, and you gasp, "Spencer! That's rude, open the door!"
"They are relentless," Spencer locks it, heading towards you and backing you against the kitchen counter where you set the casserole, "If you let them in, they'll tease us both until our ears bleed, angel. They're not offended, and you can meet them some other time," He promises, kissing your forehead where you stand frowning at him, "When we're at someone else's house, and my ankle is healed so that we can run to the car and leave early when they lay into us."
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helen-with-an-a · 1 month
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I am an adult pt. 2
Hi. So this is part 2 to I am an adult. I already had an idea that I wanted to do another part but thank you to the Anon who gave me a good idea for it. I hope you enjoy it. <3
Barca Femeni x Reader
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4
TW: Angst
Word Count: 4k
Description: R realises she might not be as adult as she things she is
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Everything was wonderful for the first few weeks after they came to your house. They calmed down, and you calmed down. It was great. But something felt … off. They stopped treating you like a child. Which is what you wanted, right? You had asked for this. You had asked them to stop policing your actions and criticising you. You wanted this. Then why did it feel so wrong?
You didn't go crazy; you continued your life as it always had been; movie nights with Patri, dinner with Pina, coffee with Ona. Everything was totally and completely normal. Except you no longer came home to text messages asking about your location or concerns over your safety. You no longer had Lucy reminding you about your weekly food shop that needed to match your nutritional needs. You no longer had Alexia helping you fill out your official government documents. You no longer had Marta and Caro texting you about your upcoming schedules. You no longer had Paños checking to ensure you were up at the correct times. Your safety net had slipped away, and you were dangling in the middle of open water without anyone to catch you.
But this was entirely of your own making. You didn't realise it, but you had failed to apologise to them. You had failed to act like the adult you thought you were and own up to your actions. They didn't realise it either, not consciously anyway, until a few days later. Paños watched you from the corner of her eye, goofing off with Mapi when she got a sour taste in her mouth. Ingrid had approached her to apologise for her behaviour when she snapped at them. The adult thing to do.
"Hey, Ale?" Paños caught Alexia's elbow, stopping her from moving away. "Did Y/N ever apologise to you? For shouting in the changing rooms?" Alexia frowned. No, you hadn't. You had shouted at her in front of your colleagues, your friends, and you hadn't said a word. Never mind that she was your captain. You yelled at someone in public when they only tried to help. And never said sorry. She shook her head. Sandra hummed and began making discreet enquiries about whether you had apologised to anyone else; over the past few months, you had been rude to all of them. Even Ingrid and Mapi when they had expressed concern over you going out for the third night in a row. They had all apologised to you, recognising their own faults with the extreme actions they had around you. But you didn't extend the same courtesy to them. The older teammates pulled back even further, annoyed with your behaviour and lack of ownership over them – again, it was something you weren't aware of, too busy in your bubble of newfound freedom.
Over the next three months or so, you were finding things increasingly more difficult. At first, it was the food shop. When you were with Alexia, she always kept something healthy in the freezer for you should you feel like food shopping was too much for you but you needed something in the fridge or pantry. After long days at the training centre and after matches, the last thing you wanted to do was go to the always-too-busy shops. So, you began ordering food some days of the week. It wasn't like you ordered anything too unhealthy; you always got something vaguely nutritious with vegetables, protein, and carbohydrates. Everything you need for a well-balanced meal. But with the increased deliveries, the carefully constructed budget that Alexia and Lucy had worked out for you began to crumble. Soon, your bank account was much less full than it once was.
It was a sunny morning in early May when things really hit the fan. You had been pulled into a conference room. It all looked very official. Men with official suits you didn't recognise sat on one end of the long table. The Barcelona Big Bosses, as you called them, were along another. Jonatan and Alexia sat on the third side of the table, leaving a single seat on the fourth. Jonatan looked concerned, the Big Bosses looked stern, and the Officials looked bored. Alexia looked furious – she refused to look at you, her hands fiddling with the pen in front of her.
"Hola," you said as you took your seat. Introductions were made, and something small and square was placed on the table in the middle.
Buen día. "Soy Carlos Álvarez y él es mi colega Juan Ramírez; trabajamos para el Departamento de Estado y hemos sido asignados a su caso." You stared at the Official blankly. Your Spanish had been improving, but he spoke too quickly for you to understand. "Le gustaría que esta entrevista se realizara en inglés?" You looked to Alexia for guidance, but she stayed staring at the papers in front of her.
"Um, lo siento, um, no en-entiendo. No hablo español," you responded. It was the phrase Lucy had taught you when you first arrived. The man gestured to one of the other Officials.
"My name is Juan Ramirez, and this is Carlos Álvarez; we are officers from the State Department assigned to your case." Your heart stopped. Did you have a case with the State Department? How? Why? Your fear must have shown on your face as Jonatan took pity on you.
"Y/N, you haven't filled out any tax forms or completed your Right to Work visa." Tax forms? A right-to-work visa? You have never had to fill any of those things out before.
"But … I've not completed those before."
"Yes, you have. Look." Juan handed you photocopies of filled-out forms, all with your name and information on them.
"I didn't …"
"I did it for you, Y/N," Alexia answered. "We used to sit down together and do it." When did you do that? You don't remember any forms.
"It shouldn't take too long to actually fill out the forms, but because they're late, you must go to court to hand them to the judges. Due to your status and job, you can stay in the country, but you cannot participate in matches or training until you have received confirmation from the State Department that you can work again." Juan explained. Court? No training? No matches? "We will also have to freeze your salary. It will be back-dated once you have the necessary documentation, but as of right now, you cannot receive any more money for FC Barcelona or anyone else in Spain." No more money? You were really starting to panic. What did they mean you couldn't be paid? You tried frantically to get Alexia's attention, but she refused to meet your eyes.
The rest of the meeting was a blur. You had been escorted to the mercifully empty changing rooms and gathered your things. As you entered the main corridor, you met an incensed Alexia, with Marta, Paños, Patri and Irene standing behind her. The captains.
You went to open your mouth when Alexia cut you off. "I don't want to hear a word from you. How could you be so irresponsible? You said you wanted to be treated like an adult, yet you do something as stupid as this. You could be deported, Y/N. You could be banned from ever entering Spain again."
"I know, but-"
"Do you? Do you know? You said you wanted to be treated like the adult you claimed you are, but you are not acting like one. Adults take responsibility for their own actions. Adults apologise to their friends for shouting at them. Adults can complete simple forms that take only a few minutes to complete. Adults act like adults," she continued. You felt a singular tear roll down your cheek. "And now you're crying," Alexia threw her hands in the air. "You wanted to be an adult, and you failed." That stung. But it wasn't a lie either. And that made it hurt worse. "Adults own up to their consequences and deal with them."
"Alright, Ale. I think she gets it." Patri tried to help you. She was one of your best friends, after all.
"Does she? Do you understand? Do you understand how much trouble you are in? Not just with me or the club but with the government?"
"Yes," you whispered so quietly that she barely heard you. She straightened to her full height, chest puffed out, shoulders back.
"You will not have contact with anyone from this club until you have received confirmation that you are allowed to work here. I will not allow you to drag them into your mess. When you are allowed back to train, you will be on the pitch every day at 7 am. You will complete extra laps before and after training until I deem it appropriate for you to stop. You will apologise to every single person who works for FC Barcelona for the hassle you have created for them. You will have to earn your right to even sit on the bench, let alone play or be a part of the Starting XI. You will have to earn back our respect, not just as a player, but as a person." Alexia said icily before pushing past you. The others followed suit, slightly concerned for you but still following their captain's lead. Patri gently patted your shoulder as she went.
You made it about 5 minutes into your car journey home before you deemed it too dangerous to drive. You pulled into a quiet side street and sobbed. You had really fucked up. You had really, truly, absolutely fucked up. And you weren't talking about the paperwork. That terrified you, of course. You had never even spoken to the Police, and now you had an open case file against you with the State Department. But what hurt the most was how appallingly and horrifically you had fucked up your friendships. The older girls had taken you under their wings without being asked. And how did you repay them? By behaving like a little brat who wanted to sit at the big girl's table.
The next day, Juan and Carlos turned up on your doorstep, armed with a mountain of paperwork and a tough expression. It had taken you 4 hours to complete all the documents you needed. Your court date came through the post a few weeks later. It was set for a month's time. You had hardly left your house. Initially, you wallowed in self-deprecation and began to hate yourself for how you treated the people in your team. The women that had helped you settle into Spain without being asked. The women who let you sleep in their spare rooms and crash on their couches. The women who filled out essential documents for you without you even realising it. And you had never even thanked them. Instead, you had hated them, resented them for the suffocating feeling you thought they had created. Maybe it was you? Perhaps you were so insistent on doing 'normal' things that you made your own asphyxiating environment around them?
After a week of feeling sorry for … everything, you decided enough was enough. You dragged yourself out of bed and into the shower. You forced yourself to make food and do an at-home workout. After moving your body a little bit, you sat down and began to concoct a plan. Alexia told you you had to apologise to everyone under the FC Barcelona banner. So that's where you would start. You wrote a list with each department on it. You couldn't find individual names, but you knew roughly how big the department was. You wanted to do something that was genuinely hard as an apology.
Buying flowers with a printed note was easy. So, you decided baking was the best option. You could bake reasonably well, and who doesn't love sweet treats. You decided it was better to be safe than sorry, so you made as many cakes, muffins, doughnuts, churros, brownies, and cookies as possible. The works. You couldn't go near the training centre, so you couriered them each day, handing over your mountain of confectionary with a label attached to which department it should go. Inside was a handwritten note apologising profusely for the difficulties you had caused them, promising that you would come to speak to them in person as soon as you were able to. The team was slightly easier to individualise things; you knew their favourites, so you spent a few days baking up a storm for them. You knew they were under strict instructions not to contact you – you wondered what punishment would await them if they tried – but you couldn't deny the total radio silence hurt a little. Could they really cut you out of their life so quickly? But this was your own making, you kept reminding yourself. This was on you. You had to fix this.
Eventually, your time in court came as you handed over the documents. The judge was strict and disapproving, but you could tell the man behind the gavel was nice enough. Your official confirmation documents came two days later, with instructions on who to give them to and when your next form deadlines were. You took out your phone, recorded the dates in your calendar, and wrote them on a piece of paper to pin to your fridge.
All that was left for you to do now was go to training.
Go to training and face the team.
Go to training and face the older girls you had been so rude to.
Go to training and face your captains.
Go to training and face Alexia again.
You set your alarm for 6 am the following day. You completed your usual daily routine – showering, brushing your teeth, getting your protein shake and breakfast, getting changed, getting in the car, and driving to the grounds. You had hoped it would calm you, but as the building got nearer and nearer, your nerves began to skyrocket. Taking steadying breaths, you made your way to the changing rooms. The building was eerie, being this quiet. Typically, the hallways were filled with loud chatter, and the changing rooms were filled with laughter. You made your way onto the pitches at 6.45. You were early, hoping it showed Alexia that you were trying to fix things. You initially decided to stand and wait for her, but then you remembered that she had told you you would be running until she decided you would stop. So, you start doing your stretching and activation. You didn't know this, but the Captains watched you from the conference room. It had floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the training facility. After your stretches, your phone buzzed. Alexia had texted.
Ale <3: 30 laps.
Cariño: Hi. Yes, no problem. Will you be coming outside?
Ale <3: No, but I will know if you cheat.
30 laps was a lot. But you didn't want to cheat; this was your punishment for all the stress you had caused, so you would do it, and you would do it honestly—even if it killed you. You had asked because you wanted to see Alexia. You tried to apologise to her first, but that wasn't an option at the moment.
Ale <3: It's 7. Start running.
You filled with your watch as you took off on a gentle jog.
"30? Are you trying to kill her?" Irene asked as she watched you complete your 20th lap. You had only been running for about 35 minutes, but she was mildly concerned. This was the first time you'd done any significant form of movement in a while.
"She won't be needed in matches for a while. She'll be fine." Alexia wasn't about to let you off the hook.
"I know she won't be at matches for a while, but come on, Ale. She's got to do a full day's training after this. And laps afterwards." Marta pointed out. They had all been disappointed and hurt by your actions, but she thought Alexia might be taking it too far.
"She's fine. And who said she won't be at matches?" Alexia smiled, slightly evilly, Patri thought.
"You did?" Paños looked at her, confused.
"No, I said she won't be playing in matches. She will still attend them." They all shared mildly worried looks but let Alexia have her way.
When you eventually finished, you walked around with your hands on your head, taking deep breaths and trying to slow your heart rate down. 
Ale <3: You can go. Be at breakfast at 8.30.
Your heart sank a little as you felt the iciness behind her texts, but this was your own doing. You had to deal with the consequences—like an adult. You headed to the showers to get dressed for the next training session, your shoulders slightly drooping. Alexia couldn't deny that it pulled on her heartstrings a little, but you must be taught a lesson about accountability.
When you arrived out of the showers, the changing room was busy. Everyone stopped talking as you walked to your cubby. You decided to utilise everyone staring at you to your advantage.
"I would like to take this time to apologise to you as a team. I will be coming and doing it individually as well, but I wanted to do this as a team. I am so, deeply, truly sorry for the way I have been acting in these last few months. I was angry and frustrated, but instead of talking calmly like an adult, I raised my voice and lashed out. I am so sorry. I am also sorry for causing a rift in the team – that was never my intention. I am also sorry for the issues I have caused by not completing simple forms. I apologise." You nodded and turned around, hoping the eyes wouldn't keep looking at you. Ona first broke the silence, nudging you slightly and smirking as you met her eyes.
The training was brutal, and Jonatan was not taking it easy on you (and you were reasonably sure it had a little bit to do with Alexia). You used the time you were allowed to talk to apologise to everyone personally. Most people shook you off, but the older girls listened to you and told them how much you hurt them. They accepted it nonetheless – they could see you were trying to make amends. You got through training without complaints, like an adult. You helped collect the equipment before stopping in front of your 4 captains.
"H – How many laps?" You asked, not quite looking any of them in the eyes.
"5," Alexia commented. You nodded and set off running again.
"Ale, aren't you being a little harsh? You're making her run about 6km today on top of training." Marta looked at you. You looked a little weak, running slower than this morning. But you had the determined glint in your eye that told her only Alexia could make you stop.
"She needs to learn her lesson." She shrugged and moved away.
It continued for about three weeks before Jonatan put his foot down. He was starting to get more than a little concerned by your and Alexia's behaviour. You had made up with the rest of the team entirely. The older girls, bar Alexia, asked you about your evenings, and you asked about theirs—just like any group of adults would do.
"Alexia. You need to stop this. She has proved herself. She has said sorry to every person in this building. You need to stop punishing her. I want her back on the team sheets for matches, and I can't do that with you slowly killing her." Jonatan had called her into his office after training. He hadn't initially questioned her behaviour; he had supported it at the beginning. But he could see that the constant rejection from her was getting to you. You were still young, after all.
"She hasn't," Alexia said, watching as he furrowed his brow in confusion. "She hasn't apologised to me."
"Maybe that's because you keep looking at her like you're going to kill her. I see her come up to you, clearly trying to apologise, and then you stare at her, not unlike how you're staring at me now." She quickly fixed her face. "You're terrifying the poor girl."
Her talk with Jonatan made Alexia question her methods a little bit. Yes, she made you run an additional 35 laps daily, but you had to learn your lesson, right? This was the only way to make you see how you were behaving. She was sure of it. In actuality, she was hurt. Your actions had really hurt her. Disregarding you shouting at her in front of everyone, you hadn't wanted her. And that really stung. She may have wanted you to also feel that pain … just a little bit.
As Alexia walked up to your door, she was slightly … nervous? No, that couldn't be right. She was Alexia Putellas, she didn't get nervous. But she was. It was the same feeling she got as a teenager when she knew she had run late at training, missing her curfew, and knowing that her mother was waiting for her behind the door. She decided she was more apprehensive than nervous. Alexia did not get nervous. As she raised her hand to knock, the door disappeared.
"I really don't know what to do," you jumped slightly as you registered that someone was standing before you. "Oh, hi," you said uncertainly. "Ona, I've got to go … Ale, um, Alexia's here … bye." You hung up the phone, putting your coat back behind the door. "Would you like to come in?" You offered meekly.
"Por favor. If that's ok." You smiled hesitantly and stepped back.
"Would you like a drink? I've got water, juice, tea, coffee … wine?" You sounded so unsure of yourself. Had she caused this?
"A tea would be lovely." You both settled yourself with the standard social conventions.
"I wanted to talk to you, actually," you said as you gestured to the table. "I wanted to apologise to you. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I was rude. I should have been adult enough to discuss my feelings properly," you stared hard at the table, fidgeting with the mug in your hands. As Alexia opened her mouth again, you continued, pushing through before she could comment. "I would also like to apologise for what happened with the documents. I was so stupid not to fill out those forms. I made something that would have taken an afternoon at most into a massive thing. I'm sorry if I caused any embarrassment to you, as a person or as Capitana." You thought you embarrassed her? Yes, what you did was irresponsible, but you were living alone for the first time in a new country. Alexia should have made you do the forms earlier when you still lived with her, not doing them herself without your knowledge.
"Gracias, cariño." You looked up, shocked at the term of endearment. She hadn't called you that in a long time. "I would also like to apologise."
"You have nothing to-" you interjected.
"Sí, cariño, I do. I was so harsh on you. Harsher than what was warranted. I'm sorry. I'm not embarrassed; I never was. I was hurt. You said you didn't need or want me anymore. That hurt me," she explained.
"Ale … Alexia, I'll always want you around. I didn't want to go cold turkey on you. I just wanted you to treat me like you treat Cláudia, or Jana, or Ona. But I never wanted you to not be in my life." She smiled softly at your response. Although, she didn't like that you hesitated to call her Ale.
"Look at us, cariño, talking like the adults we both are." She joked as she sipped on her tea.
"Like the adults we both are, Ale." You smiled back.
So that was part 2. I hope you liked it. I don't think I'll make any more parts, but we shall see.
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magerightsmagefights · 3 months
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I know people tend to forget Wyll a lot in this fandom (I wonder why. What Could Possibly Be Different. Can you spot the difference?/s) but I'm genuinely surprised at the lack of Durge x Wyll content. Especially if you're going Redeemed, there's that inherent flavor of "My lover cannot know the truth, I am horrible and they would hate me, they would be correct to hate me." And with Wyll it's just... so juicy, he's so pure and shining, and Durge is so filled with filth and misery that there's barely a person left underneath.
Idk, as a femme romance reader I've spent so many years reading the "love redeems" arc where a FMC plays beauty to an MMC beast, in every genre, medium, budget, etc. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but beauty and the beast as a story structure has never done it for me.
until it's reversed, apparently, because Wyll as the beauty to Durge's beast needs to be injected directly into my veins like yesterday. All the other companions are good and sweet, don't get me wrong, but their reactions are coded like 'i accept you,' where Wyll to me comes off much more as 'we will heal you.' He doesn't have any funny little quips about you trying to bite him, no innuendos, no "I Will Put You Down" a la Laezel, he's just... so good, and he believes in your inherent goodness, he so easily sees "you" and "your urges" as wholly seperate entities he would step between if he could.
Speaking of which!! The coronation scene, when everyone finds out you're Bhaalspawn? I never see anyone talking about Wyll's reaction compared to other companions getting angry (even Dark Shadowheart will yell at you) because Wyll seems to be the ONLY PERSON who immediately separates you(the person he knows) from you(the person you used to be). Astarion isn't angry, he even appreciates your scheme freeing him from Cazador, but he also kinda falls into the whole "I will talk to you as if you are the exact same person who did these things, this is Your True Nature and I feel positive about it."
Wyll's reaction feels like the only one saying "You WERE that," instead of "You ARE that." It also feels like the only one that kinda-sorta acknowledges Durge's actual amnesia, because he doesn't treat this revelation like a betrayal the way the other "good" companions do. They be saying "The real evil was hiding within our ranks all along" like wym hiding? Durge didn't know either, how tf they supposed to tell you?
Wyll doesn't even blink. Once he knows what you are, his No.1 priority is reassuring YOU about it. The fact you're Bhaalspawn isn't a betrayal; it's a Horrible Burden and he's sorry you have to bear it, but there have been others like you who were good, who overcame, and your blood isn't who you are. His first instinct is to offer hope, to reassure you that there's a way out, he believes so hard that your urges are a defeatable enemy and he's ready to fight them with you.
(I also fall into the Durge And Gortash Fucked camp, and I cannot overstate the tastiness of Durge waltzing into the coronation of their ex, the Worst Man Alive, while bringing along their new boyfriend, the Best Man Alive)
Idk, I've just never engaged in a romance where I played the part of the Beast. As much as people rag on pure, princely archetypes, I don't actually see them that often. I genuinely don't remember the last time I read/saw a male lead behave like Wyll, but I've seen plenty of Astarions, Fenrises, Rhysands, etc. Romance loves a fixable MMC, but so rarely an MMC who wants to do the fixing.
Anyway. Justice for Wyll or whatever. I can only cross my fingers that future DLC will include more romance content, because we all deserve to have a Beauty for our Beast sometimes.
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oval3000 · 6 months
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Chapter 3
Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader
Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
(This might suck idk. I don't know German so it's all Google translate)
-------------------------------------------------------
He hasn't left his room for a month. They kept him in their with the straitjacket on. His meals are just vitamins that he has to swallow. You would go in to check up on him, but new orders from the administrator's to not go near at all, so you pass by his room. You would peak through the little window and see him laying on his back with little no to motion on his arms or body entirely. His psychiatrist, Dr. Smith is the only that goes in there. They have sessions in his room instead of the usual spot they have it in.
She was pissed at everyone, specifically you. You are her punching bag, even though it was Ben's fault. "Why hasn't he been given his meds!" She yelled at you.
"We are not allowed to go i-" you tried to explain your her, but she could care less.
"You are his nurse right! Your job is to give him his meds! How did you graduate when you can't even do that!" She yelled at you.
You plead for her to listen to you "I'm sorry, Dr. Smith. I can't it's Mr. Millers orders. No one can go in except you because you are his psychiatrist."
So she strolled her way to the administrator's office.
Ignoring his assistant from telling her that she can't go in. Slaming the door open to see him sitting on his chair, writing whatever cral he writes on paper.
"Sarah calm down!"
"Do you have any idea how dangerous he is, and you want me to deal with him alone! On top of that the lack of guards is making my job harder!" Dr. Smith argued with a hand on her hips and her finger pointing towards Ben.
"Do you remeber when you wanted a nurse to look after him." She rolled her eyes. Yes, you, the nurse. "Do you have any idea how much money is going towards her. Triple the pay for looking after him."
Her hands swing in motion, showing her frustration. "She can't even do her fucking job Ben!"
"If she's alive, then she's doing her job well. What's making this hard, is you barging into my office and telling me what to do when you are the one demanding this." He stood up from his chair, fixing his navy tie. "We're loosing staff. People don't want to go near him. Gabriel is threatening to sue the company. Gaurds are quiting left and right so sorry that there aren't enough staff attending your needs."
She crossed her arms with an annoying sigh leaving her lips tinted with red lipstick. "Then hire more people, I don't see the problem?"
"Did you not hear what I said" he walked towards her, standing toe to toe to her. "Majority of our budget is going towards (Y/n). She's been here for two months now, lasting longer than any other nurses. We can't afford another hire with the same pay to deal with König. Besides he hasn't actually killed anyone in those two months, I'll take that than dealing with someone who has a broken jaw from a simple punch."
"Then ask for more money." She scuffed like if it was a joke she said.
He laughed at her face, "Do you think the government cares to fund more for this place, I already have the staff on my ass for new medical supplies, do you think they are gonna hand me the budget to hire someone with triple pay just because you are scared."
"Then fire (y/n) and hire a new guard, maybe someone with military experience."
"Why would I do that. You came into my office, spreaded your legs cause you were so desperate for a nurse and now you want me to fire her. She hasn't done anything in particularly wrong."
"She doesn't follow orders!"
"She does, you just make it difficult." He came in defense.
"Wasn't she trying to stop you from putting him into a straitjacket?" She smirked while her arms crossed at her chest.
"Yes, and she was right. Putting him in a straitjacket does nothing. He was fine it's just that..." he closed his eyes taking deep breath.
"Just what?" She came closer to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, gently caressing it.
He turned his head to her, he used to lovy dovey with her seduction, but now it's more annoyance. "Eli, the other guard, came to my office the other day and told me that Gabriel was provoking König."
She rolled her eyes, looking around his office. Paying attention to the paintings hanged up on the wall and the light objects he has on his desk. "Like what? Making fun of him? We all make fun the people here what else is new?"
"I don't know the full details, but that's what he told me." He sat a bit on his desk.
"Why does that matter?" She shook her head without a single thought in her brain.
"Gabriel is threatening to sue us. If we fight the legal action, we'll have to defend König. König, just like any other patient represent us, our care. If they find out that Gabriel was the one that caused this, making König the victim it doesn't look good after we placed him in the straitjacket. Like we silencing him out. It will ruin our reputation, we'll all loose our jobs and you fucked your way up here for nothing."
"But he harmed a worker, beside murdered multiple people." She let out a little chuckle, placing her hand on his chest.
He didn't give in, instead, he gave her a stare. "He's ex- military and as for you being his psychiatrist, you'll have to speak on behalf of him. Meaning that people will find out about you, how you never studied to become a doctor you fucked every professor you had to get your degree."
"What are you saying, Ben." Her smile dropped.
"I won't fire (Y/n). She stood up for König, making us look like we care about our patients. As for Gabriel, all he's asking is for some 20,000 thousand dollars, which we can easily give him worth than standing infront of the judge. Which means that we can't afford new guards for you. Besides they're taking off his straitjacket today, so stop being so scared and do your dam job."
"I still think you should fire, (Y/n) atleast." She hummed, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"I'm not doing that. Beside she's the only staff that doesn't barge in here demanding stuff. She nice and sweet...." he looked down to the side, " and...young and beautiful. "
She let go of his waist, clenching her jaw. Yes, you being so beautiful. "So what? You want to fuck her? Is that it. Never head young pussy before?"
"You should leave, I have work to do and so do you. This discussion is over." He walked to his desk, sitting down on his chair, unbutton his last few buttons from his dark, navy, blazer.
She stormed off his office, angrly stomping on the white tile floors with her heels creating a louder noise.
You heard the word going around that their taking of his straitjacket, so you quickly gathered what you need to check him up. You saw as the guards took off. He let out a big stretched, flexing more of his muscles. It caused a scare to the guards like a lion letting out a roar.
You walked up to and saw more of his face. He stared at you.
He missed you. He never thought he would miss you. During that month of not seeing you was a time he contemplated about you. Are you made for him or not. He will shut his eyes and images of you will pop up. You smiling at him. Taking good care of him. Watching you squirm under him as you take his full length cock inside your pussy. He'll treat you with respect as long as you do what he says that's all. Seeing your belly swell up with his baby. Can't wait to fuck your tits filled with milk. Can't wait to impregnate you with multiple of his children, making one big happy family. How protective he'll be for his kids, for you. To stand up to the bullies, to show them not to be scared of anything. To hold them if they cry.
He should kill you for making him react this way. He should just kill you. You are just another nurse thinking they have control over him. He use to give orders to people, being the colonel and all, he got the respect he fought for, why does he feel weak around you. You are so sweet and joyful to him. If he was back in the field and saw you, would he kill you. Or maybe fuck you. Maybe that's it. He hasn't done it in so long, so long he hasn't touch a women. He should've just fucked one of the other nurses. Yes, maybe he should do that. Fuck a nurse, just to see. I mean what's the harm in that.
"Aah...yes. right there ngh.... yes...oh fuck that feels good."
The sound of König's footsteps were low that they couldn't hear over the sound of skin slapping against eachother. Watching a men fucking his girlfriend on his bed.
"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this?" Slaming her ass back and forth on his cock.
"Ah....a-aah....he-..he could barley...make me- fuck!..mmgh....wet." She grip the bedsheets hard while he kept pounding her.
No. No. He can't. Not you. He can't. He can't betray you like they did. He can't imagine the face you'll make if you know he fucked another girl. No he should be pure to you. You should be the only one he touches.
He needs you. Okay, it's done. He'll make you his and you'll love him. You'll love him and care for him. Rather you like him or not it's done.
You wrapped the cuff around his bicep and squeeze the bulb reading the numbers on the circle, writing it down. Doing the usual things you have studied for. As you were checking his heartbeat, he reached up which caused you to flinch a bit. His index finger, gently, caressing your cheek. Your back was turned to the guards, making it hard them to see what's going. You stared at him as he touched you with such charisma. His thumb reaching to your chin, hovering over your lips. He placed the tip of his thumb on your bottom lip, gently pulling it out a bit.
You shouldn't have this feeling at the pit of your stomach. You couldn't tell of you didn't smack his hand away because you are scared or because you enjoy it. You never had this much attention, not like this.
"I don't have time to argue with you (Y/n)! Go to your room!" The little girl tuged at her moms shirt.
"Where's daddy?" She felt tears running down her face as her mother poured more wine into her glass, already finishing up the fresh new bottle.
"(Y/n)! Seriously go to room! You are such a headache! Why couldn't your father take you with him! Nauseating!" She dranked the entire glass, slamming the cup on the table.
"Where's daddy?" She said one last time not letting go of her blanket. The same blanket her father got her when she told him she was cold.
"HE LEFT! HE LEFT US (Y/N)! LEFT US FOR THAT BITCH! AND NOW I'M STUCK HERE WITH YOU. HE RUINED MY LIFE. I COULD'VE DONE SOOOO MANY THINGS! But no! I'm stuck to take care of a brat!"
He palmed your cheek, feeling your warmth. He went in closer to you. You could feel his hot breath, quicken as he got closer to your lips.
You pulled back, "I shouldn't- we shouldn't. I mean." You whispered to him.
"Mein liebling (my darling)." He whispered to you. The first time he spoke to you. You couldn't understand him, but he spoke to you. "Du bist mein (you are mine)." He pulled you closer to him, he didn't care if the guards were staring, if anything, he enjoys it. To show everyone that he is yours to touch. "Mein schatz (my sweetheart)," his lips were hovering yours, you felt a little tingle at how close he was.
You know this shouldn't happen. You turned your away from his. You walked back, feeling his grasp letting go. He stared at you witch a smile on his face. You saw the smile he gave you.
When your shift ended and went back to your apartment, the thoughts of what happened lingered into your mind.
That night, you couldn't sleep. He was in your dreams. What if you never pulled way. Were you really going to kiss him. You glazed over the parts where he touched you.
You searched the words he said to you to translate it. Sweetheart, darling, mine.
You felt the butterflies in your stomach again. You never felt so complicated before.
Having a crush on a patient.
You have a crush on König.
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lovesickonmybed · 3 months
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to hands between legs | 18+
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masterlist | xo masterlist | info about palestine | donate to gaza
pairing | bully!ellie williams x loser!virgin!reader
synopsis | ellie williams made your high school experience a living hell, but once you got to college you thought you were finally free…until running into her at a frat party where she humiliates you just like it’s high school all over again.
warnings | 18+ MDNI! bullying, wedgies, dub-con, underage drinking, panty kink, degradation, humiliation, fingering, virgin reader, mommy kink.
word count | 4.4k
a/n | if wedgie kinks make you uncomfortable or seem cringe to you then please keep scrolling and let me indulge in my weird little kinks thank you! also i dropped out of college so if any of this is inaccurate i'm sorry!! i urge you to not buy any of the last of us games, including the remaster as the creator, neil druckmann is a zionist. the second game is based off of the israeli occupation in palestine and you can learn more about that here.
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“Dude you are not wearing those to the party tonight!” Your roommate Seline scoffs looking you up and down as you stand in your underwear looking through your clothes in an attempt to find something semi-decent for your first party of the year. You’ve got on a plain white bra and a pair of white hanes panties that sit high up on your waist. 
You turn back to look at her with an annoyed sneer on your face, “They’re called underwear for a reason, they’ll be under my clothes, where no one can see them. I doubt it’ll make a difference, I’m not exactly trying to get laid tonight, especially not by any of those guys.”
“Wearing granny panties at any time besides your time of the month is just…wrong! There’s no way those are comfortable, like seriously I see you pick your wedgie like 20 times a day, just grow up and switch to thongs already.” Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment and you slip on a black skort that stops at your mid thigh before turning back to face your roommate. 
“I do not pick that many wedgies, stop being so dramatic! A thong would just be worse, I don’t want a string up my ass all day…” You retort.
“So instead of a string you want that itchy fabric to bunch up and give you a cottontail? Got it…this is why you haven’t gotten laid yet…” Seline says, side eyeing you.
“I really don’t need this right now, I’m wearing my comfortable and reliable panties and you can have fun telling a frat guy to stop pulling on your thong strings when he’s had too much to drink.”
“My thong is getting taken off by a frat guy tonight, not pulled up, honey. Now hurry up and get dressed so we can go, maybe if you pick the right top someone can look past your choice in underwear,” Seline chuckles.
You roll your eyes playfully and decide on a cropped white tank top, you slip on a pair of black heeled boots and a light wash denim jacket to finish off the look. You want to look alright just in case, you haven’t had the best luck romantically and definitely not sexually since arriving at school. You’ve made out with a few girls at parties but due to your own nerves you haven’t done anything past feeling them up and trying to not cum immediately when their hand is on your thigh. You swear you got more action from your high school bully…
“Come on, if you make me even later than we already are then I’m gonna lose it!” Your roommate commands as you grab your bag from off your bed. You’re not exactly the party type and you sure as hell weren’t in high school, then again you never got a chance to go to parties in high school thanks to Ellie fucking Williams for making you a pariah. You still have no clue what you did to the girl for her to target you as viciously as you did, you barely knew her…maybe she wanted to establish dominance when she arrived in Jackson, sure being the new kid can be tough but it doesn’t exactly call for you to make someone miserable everyday of their life. It started with a shoulder check in the hallway and escalated to you having to budget out having to replace panties on an almost weekly basis due to the waistband ripping wedgies Ellie loved to dish out. 
College was a fresh start for you, a way to escape your past as ‘Wedgie Girl’ and to finally make some friends…but thanks to your busy class schedule and your social awkwardness it’s proven harder than you expected. Your roommate Seline was kind enough to introduce you to some of her friends and you’re pleading with whatever forces are out in the universe that some of them will be there tonight to hang with you when your roommate abandons you for some dick from a sweet, but ultimately brainless frat boy. 
“Do you know if anyone we know is gonna be at the party?” You ask Seline, nervously playing with the hem of your skirt as you both walk the path to the nearby frat house. 
“Uh, I think Taylor mentioned she might be there…I’m not sure when though. But hey, if she’s not I’m sure you’ll find someone to spend your night with if I disappear,” She smiles, nudging your arm with her shoulder playfully. 
“More like when you disappear…”
“Hey! I don’t always disappear!” Seline scoffs.
“If there’s dick from a himbo you do,” you retort.
“Can you blame me? They’re always the sweetest in and out of bed, I can’t help that I like a dumb guy who will actually take care of me after we fuck instead of some asshole who’ll just take my panties after!” On multiple occasions freshman year Seline had some of her favorite pairs stolen by business majors, it was truly unfortunate. 
“Dude I swear to god I’m on a mission to get your panties back tonight, you know I love stealing shit from frat guys. I’m gonna steal your panties back,” you joke to Seline.
“I don’t want them back, they’re probably crusted with cum by now!” Seline laughs.
“Oh my god! Why would you put that image in my head, jesus christ!”
“Sorry, sorry!” Seline is out of breath as she apologizes. 
You reach the lawn of the frat house and you and Seline look at one another.
“If you plan to hookup with someone and stay at their place, text me and share your location, deal?” You say to Seline, making sure to establish a plan for tonight.
“Deal. Same goes for you, babe,” she smirks.
“We both know I won’t be hooking up with anyone but the optimism is appreciated, Seline.”
Seline laughs and throws her arm around your waist as you walk into the party, music playing loudly, the house filled with college students with drinks in their hands. 
You comb the crowd to look for anyone you may recognize but you’re unsuccessful, you frown and pull yourself closer to Seline for comfort. You cup her ear, “I don’t see Taylor yet.” 
“Let me text her and see when she’ll be here,” Seline responds as she pulls out her phone and pulls up Taylor’s contact, she shoots her a text and while she waits on a response y’all go into the kitchen to find something to drink. 
You separate from Seline and look around at all your options, you decide to just grab a Whiteclaw, ignoring how douchey it makes you feel to be seen drinking one. You crack it open and take a sip as Seline pours herself a shot. You lean against the counter as people come up to greet Seline, you feel out of place at this party but you try to ignore the feeling and take another sip.
“Hey, is it okay if I go with them?” Seline motions to the two girls standing where she just was, “I don’t want to leave you alone but we’ve been meaning to catch up for awhile y’know?”
You sigh and bite the inside of your cheek, “Yeah…it’s okay. Go catch up,” you give her a fake smile and in response she gives you a real one.
“I appreciate it, I’m sorry. If you need anything just text me, okay?” 
“Got it. Go have fun for me,” you smile.
Seline gives you a quick hug and turns to the other girls, walking off to the backyard together.
You stay where you are in the kitchen, bobbing your head to the music and mostly aimlessly scrolling on your phone when people watching gets boring. You’re broken out of your trance by a familiar laugh, “Holy shit…you actually made it out of Jackson? I’m shocked, truly.” Even if you hadn’t looked up you’d know exactly who was talking to you. Standing in front of you, a beer in hand, is Ellie Williams. 
You gasp softly and take a long swig from your drink, “I-You-”
“I didn’t know you went here, how’d you even get in?” Ellie asks, taking a step towards you. You can smell the woodsy cologne that’s been her signature scent since high school, she’s wearing a dark green flannel over a black tank top and a pair of black jeans. 
“I-I’m smart…I guess…” You manage to say. You regret it instantly, face heating up when you realize how stupid you sound. 
“Mhm, yeah of course…” She steps closer to you, setting her hand next to your hip on your counter, trapping you slightly as she gets in your personal space, “You know,” she chuckles, “Your roommate is a real dick for letting you leave the dorm like this…”
“What? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You ask, instantly regressing back to the insecure high schooler you were just two years ago.
Ellie smirks, wetting her lips with her tongue, “Nothing, I’m just fucking with you, loser. You’re just as easy to mess with as you were in highschool…” 
You look down, avoiding eye contact, and shrink into yourself, “Why…why are you doing this? We’re not in highschool anymore, Ellie. I mean…who even bullies people in college?”
Ellie doesn’t appreciate your attempt to stand up for yourself, “Someone who sees a loser in desperate need of help…you still wear granny panties?” She bites her lip as she watches your face contort into an embarrassed look.
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about…” You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to self soothe. 
Ellie pauses for a minute, turning around to scope out the house. She grabs your wrist and starts to pull you along with her.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” You yell, trying to tug your wrist out of her grip, it’s a futile attempt as she’s always been much stronger than you. 
“Shut up,” Ellie commands, continuing to pull you along with her to the upstairs of the house. The partygoers hanging out on the staircase pay you no mind, continuing their conversations without a care in the world. Ellie pulls you down a hallway, opening one of the doors and pushing you inside, causing you to fall to your knees. Ellie locks the door as you scramble to your feet, mostly out of fear of what substances could be on this carpet.
Ellie turns around to face you, “Take your skirt off.”
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What?”
“Are you stupid? Take your goddamn skirt off,” Ellie sneers.
“What? Why? I-I’m not taking off my skirt for you! And I’m not wearing granny panties!” 
“Then lift up your skirt and prove it. You’ve got a little cottontail poking out of the back of your skirt by the way…nice hanes,” She laughs and pushes you back, causing you to stumble.
“You’re a sadistic bitch!” You exclaim, backing up away from her.
Ellie walks towards you, backing you against a wall, “I think you meant sexy, but that’s alright sweetheart I still understand you.” Ellie grabs you by your shoulders and spins you around, using her arm to pin you against the wall, your face feeling squished against the plaster. She grabs the bottom of your skirt and pulls it up, groaning in disappointment when she realizes you’re wearing a skort. “Fuckin prude,” she mutters before grabbing the waistband of your skort and yanking it down, exposing your white hanes to her.
“Hey! What the fuc-” 
Ellie cuts you off, “Sorry did I tell you to speak?”
“N-No but-”
Ellie cuts you off again by grabbing you by the back of your head and shoving your face even harder against the wall, causing you to whine in pain. “You speak when I tell you to speak, until then shut your goddamn mouth before I gag you.” Ellie slaps your ass and chuckles when you yelp. “Do you still want to stand here and deny that this borderline geriatric pair of panties are granny panties? Huh? I mean, this sure as shit ain’t a thong, but if you’re really so deep in denial I guess I could be generous and turn it into one for you, honey.”
Before you can even think about protesting Ellie grabs your waistband and pulls it up teasingly slow, your eyes go wide as you’re transported back to highschool by the feeling of the cotton fabric sliding against your skin and situating itself between your cheeks. As the fabric begins to sink into your folds you’re transported back to a memory of Ellie giving you a wedgie in the locker room during senior year.
“Shut up and take it, loser! It’s your fault for pissing me off today!” Ellie whisper-yelled as she pulled the front of your panties violently, tears welled up in your eyes as the baby pink fabric was forced into the folds of your cunt.
“Stop! Come on, you really don’t have to do thi-”
Ellie cuts you off with another harsh tug of your panties, your mouth falls open as a sharp pain shoots up your ass. You try to reach back and tug your waistband away from Ellie but she’s quick to pin your wrists against your back, using her body weight to help pin you against the wall. “Don’t you fucking dare! You’re so goddamn defiant, I miss the helpless loser you were in highschool, this was so much easier back then. You knew how to shut up and take it.”
Ellie shoves her leg between your thighs and lets go of your waistband, she uses her now free hand to remove her belt and restrain your wrists with it. “There. Now you have no choice but to take it,” she laughs. You try to squirm out of her grasp but with her thigh pressed against your cunt all it does is make your face heat up and make you hold back a moan of pleasure. Ellie continues to hold you against the wall as she grabs your waistband again, “Ready for me, wedgie girl?” Ellie smirks as she starts to pull your waistband again, pulling harder than before, almost lifting you off the ground with her first pull.
You choke on nothing as she uses your old nickname, feeling you with even more shame as your brain floods with countless memories of your public humiliation at her hands. Your eyes screw shut as you feel the threads snapping against your skin, the painful friction against your most sensitive parts sends pained moans from your lips. 
“P-Please…h-hurts so bad,” you whimper, tears forming in your eyes as you rest your forehead against the wall.
“It’s supposed to, dumbass. I bet you like it though, don’t you? It’s the most attention your little virgin cunt has ever gotten, huh?” Ellie snickers. 
“I-I’m not a virgin!” You reply.
“Bullshit. I doubt you’ve even had an orgasm…poor thing, bet your poor little pussy just leaks from the slightest attention…I could breathe on it and you’d cum. It’s a miracle you haven’t cum yet, I’m pratically fucking you with these,” Ellie pulls harder, getting you onto your toes to emphasize her point. Ellie giggles, “You know what, you’re not a virgin I’ve already fucked you with your panties.”
You mewl with embarrassment which sends Ellie into a fit of laughter, once she calms herself she lets go of your waistband. You sigh in relief as you think she’ll let you go but once you feel her grasp on your leg holes your eyes go wide. You’re not getting off that easy. 
“You know what, let me rip these and I’ll give you a pity orgasm, how does that sound, loser?”
“No, come on! Ellie don’t rip these!” You plead.
“Oh come on, nerd. I’ve already stretched them out, they’re unwearable, just let me have my fun,” Ellie begins to lift you by the leg holes of your panties. You cry out in pain, your legs kicking out of instinct as you feel the fabric of your panties pulled back and through your cunt, the fabric scraping against your cunt in such a way that causes you to begin to cry.
“Can’t believe you’re already crying, you went fucking soft on me, nerd. Guess I gotta do this everyday and build your tolerance back up,” she says in a patronizing tone. 
“No, no, no, please…Ellie…” Your breath is ragged as she continues to split your ass with your panties, showing no mercy as she bounces you, the sound of threads ripping fills the room.
“Oh come on, baby, you can take it. Don’t tap out now, you’re so close,” Ellie coos, snaking one of her hands around to grab the front of your panties and begins pulling from the front too. You scream in pain and she lets go and begins to scold you, “Shut the fuck up! Are you trying to get caught? You want everyone to see you getting fucked with your panties?” 
You sniffle, “N-No…”
“Then shut. the. fuck. up. and take it. Got it, slut?” She questions.
“Got it…”
Ellie resumes and you bite your lip to hold back your pained noises as she bounces you by the front and back of your panties, making you feel like you’re being split in half. You can’t remember the last time you were in this much pain and you hate how soaked it gets you, a wide wet patch is very visible in the gusset of your panties. It doesn’t take many more pulls for the panties to finally rip, you moan loudly in pain and pleasure as you feel the fabric rip against your cunt. Ellie is quick to grab you by your waist, old hand holding the ripped pair of panties as she helps you to the floor. You sit against the wall and catch your breath, looking up at Ellie completely wrecked. Your mascara is smudged beneath your eyes and you have red marks on your hips. 
Ellie squats down to your level, “You okay?” She asks softly, reaching towards you to trace the marks on your hips. Her gentleness confuses you, when she bullied you in high school she would’ve just let you fall to the floor and leave you to deal with the aftermath.
“I-I think so…” You mumble.
She reaches up and cups your cheek, “Can I finger you?” She looks down at your red puffy cunt, licking her lips as she imagines you mewling for her as she stuffs your cunt. 
“I…No one has ever…y’know…touched me like that before…” You explain shamefully.
“I wanna make you cum, loser. Wanna feel your cunt clench around my fingers.”
You look up at Ellie with glassy eyes, whining at the thought, “Why?”
Ellie looks down, her cheeks turning red, “Because I think you’re hot…and I’ve been wanting this for years…”
“You have?” You ask, brows furrowed as you scan her face for any hint of a lie.
“Yeah…I…I like how you sound when I torture your pretty pussy, wanna make it feel good this time, wanna reward you for how you took that wedgie.”
You think it over for a minute before you nod, “I want your fingers inside of me, please.”
“You want it on the bed, baby girl?” She asks, nodding her head towards the bed of whatever poor boys room you two have only just begun to desecrate. 
“Yeah. Can you untie me too please,” you ask softly, lifting your restrained hands behind your back.
“Oh shit, I forgot I even did that. Let me get that off you,” Ellie helps turn you around and removes the belt restraining your hands and slips it back onto her jeans. She takes your wrists in her hands to check for marks, “They should only be a little sore…I’d wear long sleeves till the marks go away unless you feel like coming up with a story about how they got like that.”
You nod and let her help you onto the bed, you wince in pain as you sit on the bed, the soreness in your ass already kicking in.
Ellie tilts her head and leans towards you, looking down at your lips, “Can I kiss you?”
You nod, wetting your lips with your tongue. She leans in and presses her lips to yours, kissing you softer than you could’ve ever imagined from her. There’s a masochistic part of you that had always had a crush on Ellie, you had dreams of her fingering you, eating you out, hell even taking you on dates. But you had never imagined she’d really kiss you, especially not like this. You kiss her back and are quick to deepen the kiss, Ellie smirks against your lips at your eagerness and pulls you into her lap, spreading your legs and cupping your cunt. She uses you gasping at the sudden contact to slip her tongue into your mouth and you moan into her mouth once she starts to massage your clit. Your body feels like it’s on fire and you beg the universe to not let you cum before she can even get her fingers inside of you. 
She pulls away from your lips, a trail of saliva still connecting them as she moves her mouth down to your neck. She presses a kiss below your ear and whispers, “Gonna take off your shirt baby, wanna suck those pretty tits.”
That alone is enough to make you grip her hair tightly and whine. You help her remove your shirt and she’s quick to remove your bra as well, beginning to trail kisses down your neck. “You’re so fucking pretty, got perfect tits…for a loser…” She snickers. 
This time it doesn’t feel malicious, it makes your clit twitch and your breath hitch. 
“You like when I’m mean to you, don’t you? Bet you’d go home after school everyday and play with that pretty pussy of yours and think about what I did to you…Bet it got you wet once I got everyone calling you wedgie girl…” Ellie smirks at you, admiring the embarrassed expression on your face.
“Shut up…” You giggle.
She smiles and starts to leave hickeys on your neck and collarbones, drawing whines and whimpers out of you with ease. She pulls back to admire her work, “I’d suggest you invest in a turtleneck, sweetheart,” she chuckles.
“Shit…what’s my roommate gonna say?” You mutter, brushing your hair out of your face as you try and think of an excuse to give Seline.
“Are you with her or something?” Ellie asks.
You shake your head no, “God no…she just knows I haven’t done anything like this before…never came back to our dorm with a hickey before either.”
“You’re so innocent it’s fucking adorable,” Ellie says, leaning forward and kissing you again. She pulls away and leans down to press kisses to your tits, nibbling slightly here and there, making you whine once she takes one of your nipples into her mouth, tweaking the other with her hand. “Fuck…Ellie…” you whine, tilting your head back as she worships your tits.
She trails a hand down to your cunt, slapping it lightly, making you yelp. She laughs softly and presses her ring and middle finger against your folds, swiping up some of your slick and bringing her fingers up to her mouth to taste you. She takes her fingers into her mouth and sucks your slick off, moaning at the taste, “You taste as good as you look, sweet girl.”
She leans forward to kiss you and slowly slips two fingers inside of you, you gasp against her lips and buck your hips forward. “Oh fuck…”
“I haven’t even started baby,” she laughs. She begins to pump her fingers in and out of your cunt, whispering praises to you as she brushes her thumb against your cunt. She bites her lip as you whine her name, reaching out to grip the bed sheets. “You’re so tight, bet you’ve been needing this huh…”
“Y-Yes mommy, needed it so bad,” you mumble, too engrossed in your own pleasure to truly realize the words leaving your lips. 
Ellie stops and tilts her head, looking at you with her jaw dropped, “Did you…did you just call me mommy?”
“Fuck…I-I’m so sorry, it just sli-” Ellie cuts you off by resuming her pace, speeding up her movements quickly to make you fall apart.
“Tell mommy how fucking good it feels,” Ellie commands. 
You’re quick to follow her orders, muttering pathetically about how good she’s making you feel. “Mommy…I fucking…I’m so close, need to…”
“Need to cum, don’t you pretty girl? Gonna make you cum, gonna make my pretty baby make a mess all over my lap.” Ellie curves her fingers inside you, hitting right where you need until it sends you over the edge. You let out a string of moans as you collapse forward onto Ellie, burying your face in her neck and you moan incoherently. Ellie works you through your orgasm, rubbing your back whispering praises as you come down. She sucks your juices off her fingers, continuing to rub your back and praise you as you catch your breath.
“Fuck…thank you…” You whisper, your head still buried in the crook of her neck.
Ellie smiles and pulls you close to her, “Anytime, loser.”
You roll your eyes and giggle, the word no longer feels hurtful but instead playful. Ellie pulls you off her lap and grabs your ripped panties off the floor, using them to clean you up. “These are coming home with me,” Ellie says, holding the ripped fabric up in front of your face.
You try to snatch them away from her but she’s quicker than you, stuffing them in her back pocket. “Nuh uh, these are mine now, loser. Need something to help me get off when I think about this again.”
She helps you redress and tries to help fix your hair and smudged makeup, it’s all futile thanks to the hickeys she decorated your neck and collarbones with. “You know it’s pretty dark out there, I doubt anyone will notice,” Ellie says, motioning to your hickeys.
You roll your eyes and give her a look that says ‘really?’ “Ellie, these are impossible to miss, my roommate is never gonna let me live it down.”
“I can’t help that I’m so good at humiliating you,” Ellie giggles, wrapping her arms around your waist, nuzzling her face into your neck.
“Shut up and take me back to my dorm,” you say playfully, nudging her with your head.
“Round two?” She asks hopefully.
“I’ll consider it…”
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bluerosefox · 10 months
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Friendships Between Realms (YJ and Danny Shenanigans Being Peek Friendship)
So the 90s YJ group got into a lot of shenanigans tbh. Like a lot and mostly without their mentors knowledge. And whenever I think of YJ I think of the Core 4 (mainly cause Tim is my fav, and the Core 4 is just so amazing together) anyways I honestly wouldn't put it past them if they had accidentally summoned or were being sacrificed by some cult, or meet Danny who accidentally fell into their world via a random portal in someway. (In this DC and Phantom universes are not on the same world, fyi)
Like Danny, still new to being a hero but getting the hang of it, meets them, learns some things from them, and actually gets along with them to the point that when he has to leave Robin gives him a communication device to keep in touch (and Robin Tim would, despite being the second most paranoid of the Bats this boy lies to Batman to his face and had hidden an entire Batmoblie cost in the Batarang budget and keeps it with YJ) and Danny does.
It's nice to have hero friends who understand the struggle of balancing hero and normal lives. Don't get him wrong Danny loves Tucker, Sam and Jazz but sometimes they just don't... fully get it. The danger, the stress, the anxiety, the relief when things are solved or saved, etc etc that comes with being a hero or at least try to be one. They don't understand the urge he gets at like 3 am to go patrol Amity Park just to make sure everything is safe. YJ on the other hand does.
He talks to them about his problems and they help out and Danny in turn helps them out too when he can. Like they needed help with Secret, call up Danny see if he knows what kind of ghost she is (he turned to Clockwork and Frostbite in that case) and Danny in turn talked to them about Dan (they told him about them having to face their own future evil self to at one point). Danny talks to Conner when Dani came into the picture, he wants to make sure he doesn't screw up like Superman did towards his clone's feelings and self worth. Etc etc.
Point is, despite being dimensions and Realms apart, YJ and Phantom are friends and have been in touch. He's friends with all the YJ at the time and keeps in touch with them all but is very close with the Core 4. (Danny was the one that reassured Tim when Bruce was thought to be dead. Couldn't find his soul or ghost in the Realms and Clockwork was being 1000% more crypticd about Batman when Danny had asked if he was lost in time, Danny (or CW) couldn't do much to help due to certain rules but Danny could tell Tim "He isn't dead. Just lost. You're not insane Rob I promise."
So imagine a few years later, DCverse is under heavy near world ending supernatural danger and it gets to the point someone in JLD suggests they may have to summon the Ghost King in order to stop it (maybe its an old ancient ghost/spirit someone foolishly unleased). Of course there are some that strongly advise not to, that summoning him would spell the end of everything, but someone else points out they're already close to that edge they already got no other choice.
So they try and it fails and everyone is confused.
Bart, because of course it's gonna be Bart, returns from helping evacuations takes one look at the summoning circle and says.
"Why are you using those outdated sigals and symbols? That'd like trying to call an out of service number." Bart says before he speed texts Tim, Conner, and Cassie to come over.
Tim, RR, takes one look at the circle and asks who they were trying to summon. When told they were trying to get the Ghost King, him and the Core 4 look at each other before Tim pulls out his communicator and texts Danny.
It takes less than a few minutes before RR tells Impulse that Danny was cool with the summoning and to bring him in. Impulse nods and quickly runs around and changes the old summoning circle around with new symbols and sigals. Then RR turns to most of the JLD members and says sternly.
"You all better not memorize this, this is Phantom's personal summoning line and he only wants friends to know it. He gave us permission."
And with Superboy (Conner) and Wonder Girl agreeing with nods.
Before any of the JL or the JLD could really ask or even interrogate what that meant Impulse was done with the preparation. the Summoning circle was changed around with constellations and other signs of stars, there was a bag of fresh burgers and three milkshakes in the middle of it, and under it was a stylized symbol of a D and a P.
Its Impulse who starts the... chant and raises his hands up. (its actually the dumbest song anyone can think of. Danny wanted it to be funny and the Core 4 totally encouraged it) the candles shift from red to green fire, the star symbols start glowing before flying around on the floor in a circle like shooting stars, the area starts feeling like a cold winter wind beginning to blow, and the stylized symbol is glowing green before...
Danny pops up in his Ghost King form (flaming crown, galaxy cape, looking more ghostly than human but still a teen), finishing up the song and laughing. When he spots his friends he's grinning and waving hello to them, all of them greeting him back.
The JL are confused as heck but noticed how shell-shocked most if not all the members of JLD as their staring at what has to be the Ghost King...
Basically. I want Danny to be one of the people/things the 90s YJ did/meet during their insane shenanigans that most of their mentors most likely didn't know about. They all kept in touch and if they knew, and were later invited to the coronation, of Danny becoming the new Ghost King and later needs to bring out the big guns against a supernatural entity and stuns everyone else that they have a friend in a very high place well... yeah.
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mypoisonedvine · 4 months
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virgin neil lewis with 11: “fuck, do that again... please."
your work is so fucking good i LOVE it
thank you so much love!! i got so many amazing neil requests but I love the idea of virgin neil c: kinda made him an incel lowkey...
warnings: noncon sexual content (18+ only!!), perv!neil, grinding, neil being a creepy nice guy with 0 stamina (aka my exact type)
100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!
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Neil could be a little bit... well... touchy.
You mostly didn't mind it. It was just his way of being friendly and he usually made you laugh with the way he would randomly hug you from behind or tickle you or playfight you just to hold you down.
Every once in a while it would get weird, but not too weird; just his dorky, goofy sense of humor taking a jokingly-horny turn.
Well, you thought he was joking.
Like, for example, today—when you were on the couch arguing over what to watch (a common occurrence).
“No way,” he shook his head, “it’s shlock!”
“Just because it had a big budget doesn’t mean it’s shlock!” you defended.
“Oh yeah?” he challenged with a smirk.  “Just read the box!”
He snatched the DVD case out of your hands, flipping it to read the back as you tried to pull it away from him.
“In a world,” he began reading the synopsis in a deep, dramatic voice.  “See?  No good movie starts its premise with in a world—”
“Shut up!” you whined.  “Reading the back is cheating!  Gimme it!”
You leaned over him, trying to grab it, but his arms were longer; he held it up high and tilted his head back to keep reading: “In a world devastated by nuclear war—”
“You’d like it if you gave it a chance!” you insisted.  You couldn’t reach as high as him from where you were sitting, so you thoughtlessly hopped into his lap and lifted yourself up to get closer.  He yanked it away again, leaning to the side and watching you as you laughed and groaned and tried to get it away from him.  “You just need to see it, then you’d like it!”
Three things happened at once, right then: you moved to try to get the DVD from him, twisting yourself in his lap; his other hand grabbed suddenly and tightly onto your hip; and he stopped laughing.
You didn’t really notice it at first, just happy you managed to snatch the case from him.  You only really realized something was different when you looked at him with a smug grin which fell quickly.  “Neil?”
His lip was between his teeth, and his face was a little flushed.
“Neil, what’s wrong?” you wondered, relaxing on top of him, which only made you put more pressure against his— oh.
“Fuck,” he breathed, holding your hips with both hands now, “do that again… please.”
“What the fuck?!” you snapped.  “Are you— is that—?”
You tried to get off of him, but he was holding you down.  Your face flushed as you suddenly felt self-conscious about everything you’d done— about wearing these tiny lounge shorts, about getting in his lap, about coming over to see him at all.  He rocked his hips slightly under you, and you whimpered as you understood, without a doubt, that he was rubbing his erection right against you through his pants.  You could feel it throbbing, even.  You weren’t sure what was worse: the possibility that he got that hard that fast because you were in his lap, or that he’d been hard before when you two were just hanging out.
“Let me go, Neil,” you demanded, but your voice was weak and shaking; he ignored you, looking down at you in his lap as he moved you on top of him.  “Neil, stop—”
“Fuck,” he sighed, “you’re warm.”
He did it again, again; you felt sick and strange and sort of numb as he held you tighter, groaning under his breath.  “This isn’t funny,” you whined, “this is—what the fuck, dude—”
“Sorry,” he panted, moving you faster over him, and you grimaced as you were forced to feel the details of his cock against your pussy.  It was disturbing, really, how well you could feel it with these clothes in the way: you could feel the ridge of his head, the shape and thickness of his shaft…
You swallowed, blinking quickly, not really believing that this was happening—this couldn’t be happening, right?  Not to you, not with Neil, it just didn’t make sense.  “Stop,” you begged again, quieter yet more desperate than ever.
“I will, I will,” he promised, “I’m so close— I’m almost done, then I’ll stop— fuck!”
He tossed his head back, and you felt it flexing.  You watched in shock, confusion, and disgust as a small stain began to form on his shorts, hot come soaking through the fabric as his chest rose and fell quickly while he caught his breath.
You were speechless, and confused, and you had pins and needles all over as you tried to convince yourself that didn’t just happen— that your ‘friend’ hadn’t just used you to come, holding you down and rubbing you against him.  You’d felt so helpless and dirty… so why was there a wet patch in your own shorts, not from coming but from unsatisfied arousal?
His grip relaxed on your hips, and you could get up, but you were still frozen.  If you moved now, you might have to acknowledge that this was real. 
“Okay,” he smiled, still breathing a bit heavy, eyes still shut with relief, “we can watch your movie now.”
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archibaldtuttle · 8 months
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"Fuck CGI all my homies hate CGI here we love practical effects" ok ok ok alright I know I KNOW that I'm being pedantic and nitpicky (which is why I'm making my own post and not adding this to one of those I've seen floating around) but you don't hate CGI you just hate capitalism
CGI (Computer Generated Imagery) is a very broad term, but in the context of films it is an 60 year old technique used in a variety of contexts for a variety of reasons. It is not only excessive green screens and bad mocap.
CGI is actually a central part of why practical effects look so much better now than they did in the 60s - I can guarantee that you have not seen one practical effect without the addition of CGI in a film after the 90s and maybe even earlier (excepting micro budget films, and even then). Every squib of fake blood that pops on under the actor's costume is cleaned up in post. And to be clear - this is a good thing! It looks better when it's well done!
What you hate is the overreliance on underpaid, overworked contract workers who are ground into the dirt by big studios with crunch times and wildly unreasonable expectations, that results in catastrophic looking messes. Yes, I also subscribe to "a bad practical effect is better than a bad CGI effect because at least it's there", but there are hundreds of people being exploited for their labor who are honest to god artists and dismissing their entire field is missing the point. A backlash against CGI as a concept could lead to a devaluation of the artists' work - less support from the public isn't exactly what they need. That's exactly what happened after Cats, when two of the actors dared mock the effects on stage during the Academy Awards while the companies which had been crushed by the film were going bankrupt - through no fault of their own.
Pitting those two disciplines against each other isn't only useless it's also just plain wrong - they have been working hand in hand for over 60 years. Know how to recognize the qualities and flaws of both and defend workers in all fields.
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tachvintlogic · 1 year
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The Pitstop
It was a normal day at the Justice League Watchtower Satellite. Heroes were milling about, Batman was monitoring Earth from the deck, there was an astronaut tapping on the glass, Flash was joking with Martian Manhunter...
What, what was that 3rd thing?
Batman looked up and saw in front of his view of Earth was an astronaut, wearing NASA's latest suit design. He stood up which alerted Flash and Martian Manhunter to the strange sight.
He tensed as the astronaut began to phase through the walls and entered the deck. Batman was able to activate the intruder alarm when the astronaut removed their helmet.
The astronaut was a caucasian male approximately in his early forties. There were bags under his blue eyes like many of his own cohorts, and he had black hair as well.
"We need to dock."
"Excuse me?"
"Who are you?" asked Martian Manhunter.
The astronaut's face brightened immediately upon noticing Martian Manhunter. "Oh! I'm part of the manned Mars mission! We just launched and were on our way, but something is making a weird noise, and we don't know what it is. Since we're so close, can we just dock one of your garages so we can figure out what it is and fix it?"
Batman recalled that NASA had launched less than a few hours ago.
"How did you get through the glass?" asked Flash.
"I'm the token metahuman crewmember. So can we dock or not?"
"Of course," said Martian Manhunter, looking at Batman. And what was Batman supposed to say? No?
In the parking garage, Martian Manhunter was talking the other crewmembers while the Watchtower's engineers and the metahuman astronaut, who they learned was named Danny Fenton, inspected the space shuttle and tried to figure out what was making the strange noise.
Batman watched from the sidelines as the others bustled about. They had been at it for an hour, and Batman wondered if he should ask Tim to come by and help. He had informed Tim of the development while the astronauts were docking. After all, he had been involved in some of the designs of this particular spacecraft that were done by Wayne Aerospace.
He was doubtful that Tim could help that much. After all, in all likelihood it wasn't something he designed that was the problem.
Then, one of the engineers fiddled with something and Batman suddenly heard loud rattling.
A crewmember who was listening to Martian Manhunter startled and their eyes widened. "That's it! That's the sound!"
"What it that?" asked Batman.
The engineer pulled out a piece of equipment that had the Wayne Enterprise logo on it. "This module is broken," she said, "it could be repaired but honestly," she inhaled sharply, "this thing is a hot mess."
Mr. Fenton jumped and landed on the ship like the artificial gravity didn't affect him. When he saw the logo on the broken equipment, he shook his fist at the sky.
"Of course it's something by Wayne Industries! We give them half our budget hoping they're share some cool alien inspired technology like whatever they did to build this satellite and instead we get half-assed garbage!"
Batman made a point to not share the latest gadgets with the US government (he didn't trust them), but he wouldn't call their products that weren't built using alien tech garbage. That seemed a little harsh.
"Seriously, was the person who designed this sleep-deprived when they made this?" Suddenly Batman found the walls and floor to be incredibly interesting and looked away.
"Oh that's par for the course when it comes to the stuff they give us."
"I am so sorry."
As they discussed how to improvise a replacement for the equipment quickly enough to avoid drastically altering the astronaut's flight path, Batman got a text from Tim.
So I'm free now. Did the astronauts figure out what was wrong or do they need me? - RR
He texted back.
They figured it out. The engineers have it handled. - B
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finalgilmoregirl · 5 months
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a/n : feeling angsty, no gender specified, no y/n.
payday. the day mike looked forward to and also dreaded the most. payday meant he was able to take his hard earned money straight to the bank, where he would cash his check... and then watch his earnings get flushed down the toilet as he made a payment on whatever bill he was behind, which was usually a few…
you knew this dilemma. mike voiced it to you every time he came home from the bank and flopped on the couch as he tried to list off all of the other things he needed to pay for with the little money he had left. now he has been good with budgeting, but there’s only so much you can do when you’re providing for yourself and a growing young girl. you paid for groceries and abby’s clothes every now and then but mike wouldn’t let you do any more, always concerned that he looked like he was asking for handouts.
so you tried to do a nice thing. you did do a nice thing, but to mike it seemed like the complete opposite.
when he had gone to the bank that week and attempted to make a payment on his water and heating bill, the bank teller informed him that it was already paid for.
“what- are you sure?” mike was confused. he knew he was at least two months behind on paying it. he had done the math earlier that week. just as his confusion started to make him spiral he was ripped out of his thoughts by the sound of the bank teller saying your name.
“excuse me?”
“it says here that’s who paid for the bill.”
which is what brought him storming through the door of his home. he tossed his jacket off and onto the back of the couch and began angrily pacing, stewing in his upset.
you playfully chased abby out of her room as you both went to the front room to greet mike.
“hey babe”, you said out of breath, smiling as you both came to a halt. “you okay?”
“abby, could you please go to your room?” mike said calmly, but by the flair of his nostrils and the way he kept a hand on his hip you know something was very wrong.
“why?” abby asked, confused and probably sensing her brother's bad mood as well.
“just go. please.” he repeated, to which the young girl complied, swinging her arms while she walked away.
you turned to him, now concerned. “what’s wro-”
“i went to the bank today.” he interrupted your question, causing you to stand up straighter in surprise. “i tried to pay for the water and heat, but they told me you already did.”
a feeling of anxiety began to creep into your body at his aggressive tone as you looked down to avoid his angry gaze. “yeah, i did.”
“why would you do that?” mike asked, walking so he was in front of you, less than a foot apart. you felt like you were being interrogated.
“i just thought—” you started, but he interrupted you again.
“you thought what? that i couldn’t take care of it myself?”
“n-no i know—” you suddenly became bashful, a little embarrassed even as you thought back to you calling a few days earlier to make the payment.
“cause i don’t need your help. i’ve been doing this on my own for a long time and i don’t need you coming in and acting like—.”
“hey!” it was your turn to interrupt him. you weren’t going to let him take your actions and twist them into something evil. “i live here too mike. forgive me if i want to contribute.”
mike scoffed and turned away for a moment, rubbing his hand over his eyes before he continued. “you know, if i had known you would be so overbearing i would’ve never asked you to move in with me.”
you visibly flinched at that as you felt a sharp pain go through your heart. you don’t know what exactly caused the pain. the comment itself, or the way he said it so nonchalantly, like he truly meant it.
you looked away as you felt your throat constrict. you weren’t going to cry, all that could do in that moment was look like an admission of guilt. even though you know you did nothing wrong.
“well,” you sighed, swallowing the lump you had felt forming. “maybe i shouldn’t have fought so hard to end my lease early.”
you were referring to the weeks you had spent fighting with the landlord of your old apartment building. you and mike had begun the moving process anyway, excited to start the new chapter of your lives together. now here you were four months later, almost ten months into your relationship and you wished you could just walk out of the door and go back to that very apartment like you often did when you and mike would argue early on in your relationship. sure it was lonely, but you just wanted to be away from mike right now. so you did the second best thing and walked out of the living room, trying to find any other place in the house that could serve you peace.
mike felt bad about his choice of words, and about his whole reaction to the situation. it was in your nature to help people in any way you could, but mike didn’t want you to see him as a charity case.
hours passed and he stayed in the living room. laying on the couch with his eyes closed as he tried to rest. hoping sleep could help the situation somehow, clear his head at least. this proved a failure though, as through the thin walls he could hear you in the deathly quiet of the house.
every sniffle made his heart race and every deep breathe you took made him want to wrap you in his arms and whisper gentle words to you. but for the life of him, he couldn’t get himself to get up and find you. too afraid that he’d make things worse.
it wasn’t until he checked his watch and saw it was nearing nine o’ clock that he’d have to talk to you sooner or later. he knew he wasn’t strong enough to go to bed without making things right with you.
he walked to abby’s room first, where she was sat on her bed reading. she’d been in here silently for hours. thinking about how he didn’t even think to check on her after the argument made his stomach turn. she did the same thing when their parents used to fight, keeping quiet and to herself until the storm had passed.
“hey” he said from his spot at the door. “did you eat today?” abby just glanced at him and nodded.
mike went over to sit next to her. “listen” he spoke softly, “we’re okay, alright? don’t worry about whatever you heard. everything’s okay.”
abby just looked at him again and set her book down on her bedside table. she laid down and closed her eyes, signaling she was ready for bed.
after mike gave abby her goodnight kiss and stayed with her until she fell asleep, he quietly left her room, now intending to find you.
he entered your shared bedroom and found that you weren’t there, however from his bedroom window he could see the backyard light was on, giving away your presence.
as he reached the back door, he saw you sat on the steps, with nothing but a thin long sleeve covering your arms against the chilly night. you had to have been there for a while, he thought. he slowly opened the door and a cool breeze hit his face, his hoodie giving him enough warmth to avoid shivering.
his steps were basically silent as he approached you, which is where he noticed the distinct box sat next to you.
a box of cigarettes. mike knew you had smoked before you had started dating. you quit for good when you realized the relationship was getting serious, you knew it was a bad habit. you had tried to quit in the past but your worries got the best of you. but now you had the right motivation, you didn’t want to be a bad influence to abby and mike appreciated that, being supportive in your journey to quit for good. it had been almost six months since you last smoked (cigarettes at least), and now here you were.
mike cleared his throat, “i thought you threw those away.”
you didn’t look at him. you just kept staring out into the view of dewey grass and blowing trees.
after a moment you answered, “don’t worry, i didn’t smoke one.” you looked at him for a second before looking back ahead. “i was just thinking about it.”
mike didn’t know what to say, opting to just take a seat next to you. he continued to study you, taking notice of the puffy rims of your eyes and chapped lips. the cold failed to hide the evidence of your crying.
“i thought it would be a nice thing to do.” you said softly, finally continuing what you were trying to say to him earlier. “you work so hard to take care of us. and i thought it’d be a good way to show my appreciation. to show that you don’t always have to take on every burden on your own.”
mike let out a deep breath and looked up, willing back the tears he felt building up behind his eyes. he knew you meant well. he had known that since the beginning. but he was too stubborn and stupid to accept that sometimes the people that care about him will do things for his own good. he needed you to survive. and you needed him.
“i don’t even know why i said that. about you moving in.” he turned to look at you again. he said your name quietly, almost whisper like. “ever since i’ve known you there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t want to wake up and see your face. you have to know that.”
you finally turned and held his gaze, making the beat of mike’s heart quicken. “i think so. it’s hard to know for sure when you reject my help so often.”
“what do you mean?”
“i want to help your problems mike, not make them worse. that's what i'm here for. i’ve shown you i’m in this for the long run and you know that, but if I'm somehow making things more difficult for you then maybe i should-"
"no no no please. you're not, seriously." mike sounded desperate. and that's because he was. he couldn't lose you over this. "you help me in a about a million different ways every day. and you shouldn't have to use your money to do even more if you don't have to."
you shook your head, looking down again, but mike leaned in closer to keep looking into your eyes. "you shouldn't have to kill yourself trying to provide for her anymore mike. if you really want this to work- then i can't just sit by and watch you take on the pressure alone."
you looked back up and finally into his eyes. you could see the hesitation, the fear he had at the thought of letting you do this and you regretting ever trying to help him.
"please" you pleaded, reaching your hand out and grabbing his where it was placed on his knee. "please let me help you."
mike squeezed your hand back and nodded slowly. he knew you, and he knew you wouldn't regret it.
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