#Public Blathering
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Hee hoo sexy cannibalism :)
#shaydh blathers#don’t mind me I’m just going feral over my own art#this is why I don’t draw in public
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John Pringle is first and foremost a predator and a parasite. He's a serial killer that hops from host to host when the body fails. As for how he was created, I won't give that away just yet. But he was created to love, and decided instead to destroy, and his decision to become this predator-parasite came when his own mortality became evident to him. He lives unnaturally long, and his continued existence comes at the expense of others.
In this sense, he's not far off from the concept of a billionaire or a landlord, roles that can not exist without victims of exploitation. John Pringle is not a human being or even an animal. He should not exist. There is nothing human or sympathetic to be found within him. There is only pity for his miserable, wasteful existence as a result of his desparation. John Pringle is the personification of murder.
And when we first meet him, it is in the form of a deer. Specifically one that is very wrong because, well, it's already dead.
Parting the curtain here, I was inspired by the effect of Chronic Wasting Disease, which ultimately results in deer behaving in bizarre and erratic ways beyond their control (some people refer to this as 'zombie-like'). When deer have no predators, they overpopulate, and they frequently starve or get sick. It's an unbalanced and unnatural existence, much like the one John Pringle is living.
So why does John Pringle arrive in the form of a prey animal when he is inherently a predator? The answer is interesting (to me).
He is fundamentally a victim of his own existence. He is ruled by an overwhelming fear of death. He kills for sport, recognition, attention, a sense of identity, but ultimately to sustain himself. In a sense, he wants to be a predator (and is), but at the back of his mind, John Pringle is the prey and death itself is the predator.
But John Pringle is mythologized into a sort of satanic character by the Order, or at least, parts of his legend transform into the character of the Wyrm/Wurm/Worm, representing destruction and spiritual death. The Wyrm/Wurm/Worm eventually becomes simply The Worm, a very literal worm, as a result of postbellum morbidity. How ironic that John Pringle, afraid of death, is mythologized into death itself. And how ironic it is that after all, he is nothing but a worm.
And even lower than that.
He is a parasite.
Keep this in mind when you read him. John Pringle is a living concept. He can not and will not change. He began as the ideal man from the eyes of a woman whose life was ruled by a predator. He's the imaginary husband of someone who was born and raised in a patriarchal sect in which a high priest with a sexual interest in her held absolute, unquestionable authority. He is greed, murder, assault, subjugation, and exploitation.
There is nothing honorable about him, nothing redeeming or worth redeeming. While Decaelo is populated with many Christian characters of vastly differing opinions, I try to avoid a Christian view of redemption or even describe behavioral changes as 'redemption', which is why the attempts of certain characters to achieve redemption through suffering or prostrating themselves before those they have wronged generally fail or have little effect, but when certain characters decide to change and follow through, it isn't redemption. I don't really subscribe to that. What it really is, is change for the better. A step in the right direction. Becoming a better person. Righting their wrongs and continuing forward regardless of whether they are accepted or not. Not depending on the forgiveness of others in order to change.
John Pringle is static. He can not change. He can not grow. He can only destroy, use, abuse, appropriate, and kill.
A fascist can realize they were wrong and decide not to be a fascist anymore, but fascism can not change. Someone who exploits others can look back in regret and become a champion of justice, but exploitation can not become better. Someone who has abused others can change for the better with conscious effort. Abuse can never be good.
Such is the existence of John Pringle.
And finally,
He is not a w*****o. He is not a SW. He is a disease created by a cruel society, a fatal parasite with a consciousness. In all seriousness, I highly suggest reading the post previous to this one, also tagged #john pringle. Reducing these figures from Native American culture to "scary deer spirit" is incredibly disrespectful, racist, and also, frankly, stupid.
John Pringle can be enjoyed and appreciated as a character, but 'redeeming' him or 'reclaiming' him completely undermines his role in the story and the pain that he causes, much of which is, surprise, exploitative in nature. In particular, he has a malicious fixation on making the one person he is unable to kill as miserable as fucking possible, not just because he is unable to kill this person, but because he cannot steal a desirable feature from them. The theme of John Pringle discarding his host bodies as they fail is also not an accident. He uses people up and spits them out when they are no longer useful. Sort of like, I don't know, America's treatment of disabled people, says the author who has lupus and a spinal injury.
Decaelo is set in the American South during the early 1970s, and involves characters of color, as well as disabled, queer and trans characters, and revolves around love and healing and justice in the face of oppression and exploitation.
John Pringle is not and will never be your 'blorbo.'
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trying to find dresses for maya and carson for part 2 wtf do fancy egotistical rich women WEAR
#talking and blathering#maya only dresses feminely in public cuz she likes to show off#meanwhile carson only does so cuz apperances/the 1950s/60s gender norms of america in 2005 LOL
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I don’t know what it is about the particular circle of Harry Potter people that I’m in on tumblr, but it’s fun to be in, not because I particularly care about Harry Potter above other fandoms, but because people actually have conversations in post.
Like, it’s not actually the source material that's particularly special above other kinds of media, but the community itself is really fun to participate in? The people I’ve seen involved are unusually reciprocal? (that might just be my very limited fandom experience, but I get almost no interaction when I post analytical Doctor Who stuff, whereas my meta gets reblogged and critiqued and it’s fun).
IDK, I guess I just lucked into acquiring connections to a bunch of blogs and bloggers that enjoy analysis and meta and are comfortable publicly interacting? That hasn’t happened much anywhere else.
#to be honest it's specifically the fact that i enjoy meta over fic writing#fic writing is uniquely hard but blathering on and picking something to death is easy#i can do it for hours#no headphones or music or astral alighnment needed#like bam#can hyperfocus at the drop of a pin#for hours#any time#and the fact that people actually respond to my meta? even to disagree politely? it is just so fun#because i cannot analyze things with almost anyone in public#i just bore them#and most people online just go "this is cool* and don't talk to me back#like lotr is cool but i've never had the fandom bent there apart from enjoying pretty pictures and the occasional analysis#(and most tumblr stuff seems to be silm based)#and i would go feral if i had a group of people who liked the era of doctor who that i liked. would probably lose my mind#but in the most loving of ways i have to say...they're all incorrigible shippers and i can't take it for very long#had to stop following someone because it was a case of *okay we clearly like the same characters but for very different reasons*
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J*rdan P*terson is such a loser, holy shit.
"*Almost crying from anger* HOW AM I TRANSPHOBIC AND CALL FOR VIOLENCE AND HARASSMENT?!?!?! 😡😡😡 *Proceeds to deadname a trans man and says that his top surgery was done by a "criminal surgeon" not even a minute into the video*"
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I misinterpreted the subject of one of my new books, so it SHOULD go to the campus library book exchange. Nevermind that it’s a first edition from 1944 and I arbitrarily perceive it to have value.
Repeat to myself: you are not antique book dealer. You will not become an antique book dealer. Do not keep books just because they would be cool to someone else.
#in the ecstasy of cool books#I misinterpreted wii naval fiction as earlier naval fiction#by which I mean not contemporarish to the publication#the illustrations are neat but not something that appeals enough to keep the book#my blather#the purpose of this post is to hold myself accountable
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Hey there's someone trying to say you said you were pro Israel on discord? They're anonymous and say you blocked them before they could get screenshots so I don't really believe them, but still :[
Mhm. Nice bit of news to wake up to, this.
Yeah, so this person's a troll and they're more than likely lying on purpose in order to try to me look bad because I blocked them on Twitter for being unpleasant, something I rarely even do and they're still seething about it. The block had nothing to do with Gaza, the person was just being annoying and I thought it'd be healthier to block and move on. I'd really prefer not to have to give this person energy, but if there's a rumor going around, I'd like to nip it in the bud, since it's very easy to disprove in this case.
To explain what this person's blathering about: Earlier this week, on a Phonegingi plush advert, this random user that doesn't follow me (and actually instructs fans of mine not to interact with them in their bio) made a dramatic QRT decrying me for posting a DT advert during a strike week, which I honestly had no clue it was, especially since my own timeline was (and still is) full of accounts posting normally.
Given that the person seemingly encountered one of my posts in the wild and ended up seething because of it + likely didn't want anything to do with me on their timeline (as their bio indicated), after thinking it over briefly, I did the healthy thing and just blocked the person + moved on. Makes sense, right? I'll admit: Even if the way the person approached me was regrettable, if I'd known it was a strike week, I'd have participated (as I'd participated in the last one), so I stopped posting teasers for the week anyway, only resuming again yesterday.
I'll also say: I checked my own timeline btw and looked at the accounts posting, and nobody else had anyone acting like this in their replies, even the much larger accounts. Nor did anyone else contact/reply to me in any way stating any disapproval.
Given that I've only blocked one account recently that isn't a replybot (and ofc, given the subject matter of that tweet), I'd have to assume that this is the anonymous person spreading stuff.
I'd understand where this person was coming from if maybe I'd stayed completely silent about Gaza, (which a lot of accounts I follow have) but I haven't. I had a Palestinian aid post pinned on my Twitter for weeks, I've talked about Gaza's child population and my support for South Africa's Hague suit in my discord server, I've engaged in the boycotts, wound down posting during strikes, donated a pretty substantial amount of Dialtown revenue towards sending money/esims... I have 4 bucks in my bank account right now and when my next DT check comes in, you'd better believe I'll be giving more. That's my right as a private citizen and one I'll continue to exercise.
I feel pretty uncomfortable having to put this stuff in front of me to 'prove' myself, even if some of it is public anyway. Charity should be something you do because you CARE and if it wasn't for this person, I'd have been far happier keeping a lower profile and not explicitly calling attention to my own aid, but given this ask, I feel it'd be stupid not to nip this in the bud. The majority of this information could be easily found with the tiniest amount of digging, btw, so it's not like the user couldn't have known any of this. This is the part of having a fandom that creators seldom talk about. You block one person for being a lil annoying, next thing you know, there's rumors that you support genocides! Fun.
So yeah, I'd like you to tell this person to just move on like a normal person (send them this post if you have to) and to stop spreading incorrect rumors about me out of spite. If they insist, I'm happy to pull up receipts to prove everything I've said. If they actually thought I was pro-Israel, they wouldn't be spreading it anonymously, they'd be writing another public post about the subject matter. Also if you see anyone repeating the rumor, please correct them. Thanks.
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NINTENDHOE
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 1610! Miles morales x reader
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ hc of playing acnh with miles bc I miss playing it
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ gag worthy fluff tbh, I need me a bf like miles
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ header by pastelwalks
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tbh he probably played before u two had gotten together but let’s pretend he didn’t rn
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ miles most definitely questions everything about the game
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷”why are we the only human??” “Why is the place being ran by a racoon?” “Who is this random otter in the ocean??”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷miles shaking trees and getting stung by wasp. After you told him that a villager can give him medicine he went up to one and they called him ugly LMFAO.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ I feel as if miles wouldn’t be picky when it comes to villagers, he loves all of them
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ skips all of blathers dialogue. “He talks to much” 😭
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷but because of blathers he remembers so many facts about dinosaurs, bugs and fish. He even recites them if he see it in public
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ “that’s a paper kite butterfly” “ I don’t now wether to write on it, fly it or spread it on toast”
“…what..”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ He isn’t really into the whole “selling villagers thing” and when he finds out you put your villagers up for sale on discord he judges so hard😭😭
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ “wdym your putting Moe up for sale???” “Miles he’s a ugly version of Tom, I don’t like him” “but FOR SALE??? That’s sounds like human trafficking”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ I feel like the villagers miles would like would be Dobie and Joey, don’t ask why they’re just adorable.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ now back to the actual game, miles would have BEEF with Tom nook (just like the rest of us)
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷” baby why do I have to pay a phone bill fee, he OFFERED the phone to me”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷imagine the first time he shoots down a ballon and it goes in the water LMFAO
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ when he has to build the nooks cranny alone, he would be so shocked at the amount of material he needs
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷”30?? 30 iron nuggets?? How am I supposed to get 30 iron nuggets if the rock only gives me two???”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ you start to treat him like he’s your sugar baby, giving him iron, regular wood (bc that shit is hard to get for no reason), flowers,literally anything
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷”hey baby, why’d you want to come to my island?? What are you dropping?? Is that MONEY, WHY ARE YOU DROPPING THOUSANDS OF BELLS??”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ he always says he’s gonna pay u back but you decline ofc
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ miles gets mad when he gets a sea bass for the 90th time so you offer for him to fish on your island only for him to get another see bass
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷” I got ANOTHER SEA BASS? If I hear this joke one more time I’ll start crying. “Baby here you try” *you pull a sunfish* *angry stare in disbelief*
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ he gets a little aggressive with Isabelle when she is trying to help the island get up to 3 stars and he keeps getting told “plant more flowers”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ now he gets 3 stars right, he’s fucking EXCITED like it took so long and he finally got it
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ miles fav k.k songs are kk crusin, kk surfin and kk western.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ I don’t think he has a theme going on, just kinda goes w the flow but loves watch island tours on YouTube
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷miles coming over to your island just to see you beating the hell out of a villager with your net and calling them names
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷”mi vida…. Why are you torturing them?..” “I want him to leave”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ most definitely has you design a Spider-Man costume for his character
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ I truly don’t know what his favorite season would even be, like idk I get spring vibes but it could be anything
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ having miles come to your island to catch the spiders that are harassing you. (I’m being so fr, the spiders scare me so much, if I see one I’m closing the whole game).
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ he WORSHIPS your island, like he loves it always praising you about it just UGH 😩 I LOVE HIM
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷” Amor??? Your island is so good, what?? How long did this even take?, you’re so talented I swear” “uhhhh haha it’s not that good” “ baby it’s AMAZING”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ acnh dates where Celeste is at your island and you both make wishes
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ “you know… my only wish is to be with you forever” “miles, you are so corny….I love you” “I love you to mi alma”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ spending the holidays together in acnh, like him wrapping up a gift for you during Christmas and you both exchanging them 😭😭 adorable
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ telling miles all of your island drama bc he swears yours is more entertaining
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ “omg baby, literally Raymond and Judy got into a fight the other day arguing about who’s better looking and Raymond said it was obviously him, so he was basically calling Judy ugly. THEN they had the audacity to ask me who looked better. “Whatttttt😮”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ he loves the game truly, he plays with you whenever you ask. He just got out the shower but you wanna play? let him hurry and put clothes on and he’s yours. Just got done patrolling after a long day but you wanna play? How could ever deny you with a face like yours?
I literally love this sm, I might have to make another one with 42!miles and another with the twins 🤔🤔🤔 let me know if y’all want that bc I’ll have it done,
#1610 miles morales#atsv#earth 1610 miles morales x reader#spider man#spiderman atsv#miles molares#miles morales x y/n#miles morales hcs#miles morales headcanons#miles morales x reader#miles morales x you#spiderman itsv#itsv#acnh#animal crosing new horizons#animal crossing
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Obey Me: Most Shameful Kink Series
Belphegor + Hidden Vibrator
See Original HC Post Here: LINK
Vote on the Next Fic Here: LINK
Prior Entries:
Lucifer + Shibari
Satan + Public Sex
Mammon + Pegging
Beelzebub + Sleep Sex
Explicit. I block minors. AFAB reader. Some playful brattiness but nothing mean. This barely fits into the series because Belphie feels no shame.
“- considering these metrics, it is of my esteemed opinion that we can consider last week’s student social a resounding success. Now then, moving on to my finance report! As you can see in the documents I’ve provided for you…”
‘Here he goes again,’ you thought to yourself with a silent groan, shifting in your chair as Mephistopheles worked himself up into another blathering monologue. Beside you, Mammon gave a less silent groan, earning a glare from where Lucifer sat beside Diavolo across the table. All the brothers were gathered for this ‘emergency’ student council meeting, which would have been fine, except-
You give a sudden jerk, your knee hitting the table and interrupting Mephistopheles with a loud bang.
“…Yes?” he asks with the raise of a brow, and you feel your face heat with a blush as Mammon frowns at you with concern.
“N-nothing! Sorry, it was an accident…” you tell everyone, crossing your legs tightly. Several chairs down, you hear Belphegor give the softest snicker.
I’m going to kill you. You text him under the table as soon as you have the chance. Inside you, the vibe stops…then starts up again with a shockingly increased pace.
I’m bored. Is his only reply, along with a shrugging crow emoji. You resist the urge to fling your phone at him.
It’s been like this all day. When he’d slipped the vibe inside of you after the morning’s sleepy pre-breakfast tumble in his sheets, you’d been too blissed out to consider resisting. After the orgasm he’d given you, you were pretty sure you would have walked around with his name on a collar if he’d asked. It had seemed so interesting, thrilling even, to go through the day with his finger literally on your button, teasing you through class and making you shiver deliciously in the halls.
But you’d forgotten just what a brat Belphegor could be.
It had been an almost constant torment! You’d never realized just how well Belphie knew you, or how close he’d been watching you. He’d seemed to be able to intuit the moment when you were just about to orgasm…only to suddenly, maddeningly kill the vibrations, leaving you burning hot with no release in sight.
And worse! He had perfected manipulating his brothers to keep you from every having a moment of peace to deal with it yourself! Satan arriving to tell you Belphie had mentioned you needed extra study help over lunch, Asmo offering at his urging to walk you to the bathroom to help you touch up your make up…He was tormenting you, and you knew he was loving it.
Secretly you kind of loved it too.
But this was different. An entire day of edging had left you almost dizzy with desire, underwear long since soaked through and thighs sticky with your juices. When Lucifer had told you about the meeting, you’d almost burst into the most horny, frustrated tears. You were sure someone was going to notice. Someone besides Asmodeus who had spent the entire meeting gazing at you with dark lusty eyes that told you he knew exactly what had been going on. His gaze only made you squirm harder, shame mixing with a perverted delight that sent your heart racing.
Belphie interrupts your thoughts suddenly, calling your name with an innocent smile and asking, “What do you think?” For a beat you just stare at him with wide eyes, as inside you the vibe thrums away it’s little rhythm.
“I um,” you squeak, before clearing your throat and trying to gather yourself, “I think its…a good idea.” A shiver breaks up your words as the vibe switches beat suddenly to a low intense drone. There’s a concerned silence, and you conclude that what you’d hoped had been a generic answer hadn’t fooled the masses.
“Are you feeling alright?” asked Diavolo kindly, his brows knitting in concern, “You look a little flushed.”
“If you’re feeling unwell, you should go home,” Lucifer said firmly, standing and coming to place a palm on your brow.
“Yes!” you say, a little too loudly, nervous with Lucifer standing so close, “I think…I’m not feeling well. I’ll head home.”
“I’ll go with you!” Asmo is out of his chair almost before you’re finished with your sentence.
“No,” Lucifer shuts him down firmly, Asmodeus flopping back in his chair with a dramatic sigh.
“WELL, I guess I can-“
“No,” Lucifer repeats himself to Mammon. Behind him, Belphie is gathering his things already.
“I’ll go,” he offers, and this time Lucifer nods. It wasn’t as though Belphie ever contributed much to the meetings anyway.
“Yes, head home. We’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you,” he says, ignoring the complaints arising behind him. Belphie comes over and gives you a comforting pat on your back, and you almost smack him.
“O-Okay…thanks everyone,” you say quickly, hurrying out the door and leaving Belphie to trail lazily behind you. You wait five doors before you wheel on him, grabbing his shirt and yanking him into an empty classroom.
“You! You…menace! Monster!” you wail as he laughs, taking your feeble beating gladly.
“Geeez…if you hate it so much, why do you smell so wet?” he shrugs nonchalantly, smiling innocently as he plays with the vibe control, leaving you trembling and gasping while still clutching at his shirt.
“Belphieeee…” you whine, fury fading as your desperation brings tears to your eyes.
“Whoa. Cute,” he comments, mildly surprised at how attractive you are when you cry for him. He wraps an arm around your waist and lifts you suddenly, drawing a gasp from your lips as he sets you on top of a desk.
“Since you asked so nicely.” He nuzzles into your neck and you mew weakly, pulling at his belt until he knocks your hands away. Instead, he kneels and spreads your thighs, reaching under your skirt to peel away your panties and giving a laugh at their state.
“Wow, you’re so messy,” he teases, bringing the cloth to his nose to give a shameless inhale of your scent, “No wonder Beel said you smelled extra good today.”
“H-He didn’t say that!” you accuse shakily, but Belphegor just laughs. Tossing the panties aside, he slides his hands under your knees and gives you a yank, jerking you to the edge of the desk.
“What do you say?” he sings impishly, smiling up at you from between your legs. You give a teary pout, but he doesn’t relent, just increasing the pace of the pulses inside of you until you’re openly whimpering.
“B-Belphie, pleeease,” you beg, surrendering any last pride you were holding on to, “Please, I need you…”
“Good girl,” he praises happily, and then finally his mouth is on you.
Your exhale is high pitched and needy, a hand fisting in the shoulder of his uniform, the other white knuckled on the edge of the desk. He slides your thighs over his shoulder and nuzzles into you, lapping up your juices before nursing on your clit. You’re practically bucking into him, so desperate for release it almost feels like it’ll never come. Inside of you, the vibe is still strobing, but now Belphegor adds his fingers to the mix, slipping in them to curl and stroke inside of you.
You can’t help your cries of pleasure, too heated to even worry about whether this side of the hall has cleared out for the day or not. Finally, as the sensation of Belphegor running his teeth over your clit makes you drag your nails through his hair, you cum hard. Thighs shaking, eyes rolling, sparks and a ringing in your ears hard. Hard enough that you don’t even realize that he’s finally removed the vibe until you feel his cock shoving into you.
He hasn’t even bothered to wipe his jaw, juices glistening there as he gives a relieved sigh and starts fucking you eagerly. A hand encourages you to lay back, and you do so gladly, still weak from your orgasms with a body singing for more.
“So pretty…” he pants, hands squeezing at your waist as his thrusts make your curves bounce, wet noises filling the classroom over your softer mewls. Closing his eyes, Belphegor leans over you, fixated on your touch as he cums quickly, rocking through his orgasm then coming to a gentle halt inside of you.
“All better?” he purrs after catching his breath, leaning to kiss your nose sweetly.
“I hate you…” He laughs, catching your lips this time as he gently pulls you back upright and into his arms.
“Sooorry,” he says in a way that makes you think he’s not really that sorry at all, “Let’s go home and I’ll take good care of you, mkay?” With a pouty huff, you nuzzle into his neck and agree.
It’s not until much later, when he’s grinding you toward your fourth orgasm of the afternoon, that you realize he left your ruined panties sitting there in the middle of the classroom floor.
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wrong to love you
Garrick Tavis x Sloane Mairi
💌: Could I request a Garrick x Sloane angst where Garrick feels guilty/conflicted about having feelings for Liam's kid sister?
words: 861
🏷: Iron Flame spoilers and mentions of sex / very mild objectification. written in third person, but Garrick's POV. I promise I love ***** as much as the next guy, but somebody has to be the antagonist here. I did not think my first character x character fic would be this, but here we are -- I read this ask and nearly fell down the stairs. literally. this pairing is something I had never considered until this very moment but I’m kinda obsessed with it — I had to put everything down and write this as a stream of consciousness (no editing, just brain worms.) let me know if you want me to make this a series, I guess?
Liam was an objectively pretty guy, but seeing his features on a woman is devastating.
It feels wrong to call Sloane Mairi a woman, but it’s the truth; she’s grown in the six years since he’s seen her, from the tagalong younger sister into a goddess; gorgeous waves of golden hair, big ice-blue eyes and long eyelashes, soft pink lips and a little button nose, defined cheekbones…
and Gods, her body -- the muscle she’s put on in training for Basgiath, the way the flight leathers hug every curve of her waist and hips, squeeze every muscle of her thighs, all that dark black contrasting with the bits of pale skin peeking out from her collar and her sleeves…
Garrick has always considered himself a gentleman, prided himself on being a man who thinks with his head instead of his dick, but Sloane Mairi has him re-evaluating those statements.
Definitely wrong. Undoubtedly, incredibly wrong. Well…
She’s an adult, he reasons. A dragon rider, even. She’s capable of making her own decisions, of defending herself with both body and mind -- she’d always been sharp-tongued, even before their lives went to shit; it’s one of the things he’d liked most about her. That and her laugh, that lovely sound that he thought he’d never hear again.
Nope. Still wrong.
It should feel wrong, he decides. It is wrong. It is so fucking wrong to sit here imagining her skin on his, how easy it would be to heft her over one shoulder and carry her up to his room, how soft and small she’d feel underneath him, those gorgeous blue eyes rolling back as he—
Stop it, he hisses to himself, gritting his teeth. If he wasn’t in public right now, wasn’t sitting in the middle of the mess hall pretending to listen to Bodhi’s blathering about gods-know-what, he’d slap himself across the face.
Liam is totally going to haunt him for this. He’d deserve it -- the bro-code applies even in the afterlife; no perving on sisters allowed, older or younger, and Sloane is definitely younger. She’s hardly old enough to drink, for godssakes.
He could really use a drink himself right now, but that might make this even worse.
“Four years isn’t that much, even in the context of your little human lifespan,” Chradh reasons, sounding like he’s enjoying this — of fucking course he is. He’s always liked watching Garrick squirm.
“What about the fact that I’m her superior officer?”
“A small ethical complication, I agree. But if you don’t stake your claim, someone else will,” Chradh muses. “Someone might have already.”
Garrick’s about to snap back, to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about, when he finally notices who she’s sitting with, whose joke she’s laughing at, who’s shoulder she’s touching.
He’s going to bend his fork in half from how hard he’s gripping it.
Stupid, spoiled princes and their ceaseless fucking meddling in his life. First Alic and his outspoken hatred of Garrick and the other marked ones, going as far as making an attempt on his life during threshing. He would be dead, had Xaden not intervened; Alic had the conviction to go through with it, but he’d been a coward, jumping someone who had their back turned.
And now that prick’s little brother is flirting with his girl, not a care in the world, not a thought in that pretty little head. He hadn’t even known Liam, or their parents. He has no idea what she’s been through. What business does he have giving her a shoulder to cry on, when his dear old dad had been the one to decide to execute eighty-six mothers and fathers, to orphan a hundred and seven innocent children in one fell swoop and to sentence them all to life serving the crown -- if they made it out of that deathtrap school first?
And she has no idea who he is under that little working-class costume he’s been wearing for the last four months. Aaric Graycastle. Come on. Using the first name of the last king and putting castle in the surname? Not subtle at all.
Neither of the apples fell far from the idiot tree, apparently. If Halden is as stupid as his brothers, then Navarre is doomed. As if it isn’t already. As if it hasn’t been cursed from the moment they tried to conquer Tyrrendor. Serves them fucking right.
At least the brat had jumped ship with them and came to Aretia to finally start living on the right side of history — though that was likely due to his disdain for his father. Does every son of the royal family have daddy issues? Is it a requirement? Something they teach you at those fancy boarding schools in Calldyr?
Maybe Sloane had been the one to convince him to come along. Maybe Chradh is right — maybe they’re already together.
So help him gods, if that little prick prince lays another hand on his girl, if he tries anything, Garrick is going to beat him to a pulp.
“I guess you’ve made up your mind, then,” Chradh says, snapping Garrick out of his rage.
“What?”
“You called her yours. Twice.”
#idk how to tag this#fourth wing#fourth wing fanfic#garrick tavis#sloane mairi#garrick tavis / sloane mairi#garrick / sloane#garrick tavis x sloane mairi#i don't know man#fuck it we ball#mine
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Plagiarist's Cant, and Plagiarists Can't.
"This was merely a single skirmish in a broader war to unravel public faith in pillars of American society."
-Claudine Gay, NYT, 2024.
That's four metaphors combined in one sentence: military, fabric, religion, architecture.
"The Ogre does what ogres can,
Deeds quite impossible for Man,
But one prize is beyond his reach,
The Ogre cannot master Speech.
About a subjugated plain,
Among its desperate and slain,
The Ogre stalks with hands on hips
While drivel gushes from his lips."
-W.H. Auden, 1968, originally about Soviet cant.
The Gay affair (thank you English phraseology) has gotten headlines with Claudine Gay, plagiarism and antisemitism, but my interest in it is more about the entire class of people eagerly telling lies and talking cant. Lying is wrong. Cant is ogrish.
Gay lied, and the Harvard board lied to back her up, and an entire class of allegedly truth-seeking, fact-checking journalists lied some more. Several "professional" people who are well paid to be well informed were revealed as aggressively ignorant and less informed than I was after an hour with Sci-Hub and Google Scholar. I already felt cynical and jaded beforehand, and I nonetheless kept being disappointed by the sheer torrent of lies in the Gay affair.
I say "lies" because the alternative is that they are delusional imbeciles who genuinely believe that this canting midwit is a groundbreaking scholar. Look at her. Look at her and laugh.
Given a NYT column and a last word of sorts, she delivers neither competent workmanlike prose, nor literary excellence, but instead a grab bag of cant and overused metaphor and pompous self-importance.
My hope is that by stepping down I will deny demagogues the opportunity to further weaponize my presidency in their campaign to undermine the ideals animating Harvard since its founding: excellence, openness, independence, truth.
She did not bring excellence, nor openness, nor truth, and I'm skeptical about the independence. She is at best spouting cant, at worst lying again. She communicates in emotive connotations, unfitting of a Harvard scholar.
It is not lost on me that I make an ideal canvas for projecting every anxiety about the generational and demographic changes unfolding on American campuses: a Black woman selected to lead a storied institution. Someone who views diversity as a source of institutional strength and dynamism. Someone who has advocated a modern curriculum that spans from the frontier of quantum science to the long-neglected history of Asian Americans. Someone who believes that a daughter of Haitian immigrants has something to offer to the nation’s oldest university.
What a lot of blather. "Diversity" in particular is a bait-and-switch word that changes between meaning "More black people" and "Variety of opinions" depending on whether the speaker is engaged in rhetorical attack or defense. The four sentences of this paragraph could be reduced with little loss to the four words "Black. Race. Asian. Black." and in the process constitute evidence that the anxiety about changes on American campus is justified - the campus is becoming race-obsessed to the detriment of everything else. It's race-cant, similar in spirit to plagiarism, and to Orwell's complaint: "his brain is not involved as it would be if he were choosing his words for himself."
The plagiarism is not the only problem. Even the broader issue that she writes and talks sloppily is not the only problem. Her papers were bad as scientific papers. Her p-values were absurd, her statistical analysis was confounded, she dropped an inconvenient data point, she failed to distinguish correlation with causation, she asserted overly strong conclusions from tiny sample sizes processed through interpolative models, et cetera. I've got Tumblr mutuals who write better and more factful analysis.
There is nothing inherently wrong with plagiarism as such: for example engineering approaches to the same problem, studies of the same object, or entertainment in the same genre ought to be similar to one another with good reason.
Much like Van Halen's famous "remove the brown M&Ms from the bowl" contract, though, a ban on close plagiarism can serve as a simple and visible test of someone's ability to follow correct procedure. Hence the pun: plagiarists can't. Claudine Gay is a serial plagiarist who sucks at expressing herself, so she copies, and she cants.
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Good Omens giveaway - mistysblueboxstuff's/Andrea C White's latest artwork book
Time for another giveaway! With the publication of mistysblueboxstuff’s/Andrea C White's Good Omens season 2 artwork books (more pictures here), and having had her prior approval, I’d like to buy some of the books for a few fans. (The number of books will depend on my bank balance at the time.)
There are two versions of the book: an A4 hard cover and an A5 soft cover. Depending on the number of people who apply, I'll probably buy mostly the A5 softcover but if I can afford it I might buy a few A4 hardcover copies.
Please note: I’m only giving away the Season 2 book (We Could Have Been Us); I’m not giving away the book of artwork from both seasons (Group of the Two of Us).
I’ll pick some people at random (I’m not going to use any fancy algorithm; it’ll just be a random selection, probably choosing people from different countries) and then will order the appropriate book and have it sent direct to each person. There are a few provisions around this, so if you’re interested in applying, read the blather under the Keep Reading below.
Deadline for application: midnight (BST) on Thursday 28 September 2023.
To apply for the giveaway, send an email to the following address (which I’m not doing as a hyperlink for obvious reasons): billandteeb at hotmail dot com.
(It’s an old email which I barely ever use, so if it gets spammed to death it doesn’t matter.)
Put “We Could Have Been Us” in the subject line, and give me the following details:
Your Tumblr/general online name and the country to which the book will need to be sent (I don’t need a full address at this point, just the country).
You can check whether Peecho will ship to your country by clicking here, clicking on ‘Continue to Shipping,’ then click on ‘Search country’ and scroll down to see a list of the countries.
I don’t need any further details from you at this point, but if you would only like to be considered for the hard cover or for the soft cover, tell me. It’s up to you if you want to tell me why I should pick you in particular, or generally try to butter me up, but it really will be a random selection! Though I should mention that in past giveaways, if someone has just put their name and country and not even a ‘thank you,’ they’ve rarely been chosen ...
If you’re one of the chosen recipients, I’ll email you on Friday 29 September to ask for your name and postal address. If you apply, you might want to keep an eye on your Junk mail in case my email goes there.
I promise to try and email the unsuccessful applicants after the deadline, but if there are more applications than I can cope with, I might have to do a general notice here on Tumblr after I’ve picked the lucky winners.
I also reserve the right to withdraw the offer if my personal circumstances change and I suddenly can’t afford to do this any more.
In the meantime, good luck if you do decide to apply. NOTE: you must apply by email to billandteeb at hotmail dot com; I won’t take applications over Tumblr’s Personal Message/Ask/Email system.
Love and hugs, Ariane x
Deadline for application: midnight (BST) on Thursday 28 September 2023.
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Wet Paint - Judd Birch x Reader
contains.... suggestive stuff! fem reader! judd is hot!
Judd needed a job. Summer of his senior year was nearing its start, and he couldn't manage to pull enough money from his parents to fulfill his needs of food, whiskey, and other useless items for passive enjoyment. This meant he could either rob a small business, or, alternatively work for one.
So, he decided to put some of his skills to use. Painting had always come easily to him, plus it would look good on his resume for art school. So, he thought, why not just go for it?
Y/n, on the other hand, had been saving up money since childhood. Now, at 18, she had enough cash (combined with some of her parents' efforts) to invest in small renovations for her space. The dusty pink walls lining her bathroom were far outdated, so her father decided to call a painting company to renew them. However, he gracefully forgot to mention this to Y/n.
Online school was currently beating the shit out of Y/n. And while she did get stay home and eat food everyday, she also had to wake up early and fucking work. Being a senior in this century was really not the best time.
At about 12:30, her lunch break started, and she took the time to really relax from the previous meeting. Take off the bra, tie up the hair, and put on the fuzzie paw booties. It was a crucial routine.
However, just as soon as she took off her glasses and slumped back in her chair, the door bell snapped her awake. Nobody was expected to come over, and she was alone (save for Friend's constant snap chats about going crazy from the un-required quarantine). She furrowed her brows in concentration, but figured if there was a murderer, she was just too tired to care.
She walked to entrance, clad in booty shorts (that Friend would scold for wearing in public) and a black off-the-shoulder cardigan, and opened the door.
"Um, hi?" she squinted.. who the fuck was this?
"I'm supposed to paint the bathroom, a guy called," Judd was already done with this bullshit. The cute girl who opened the door looked helplessly confused. He wanted to roll his eyes at having to explain himself, but refrained.
Oh. That. Y/n blushed at her appearance, mentally cursing whatever god was out there for making her life a constant state of chaos. Why wouldn't anyone tell her of this event, so that she didn't look like a total train wreck in front of the hot guy outside her front door. As she came to think of it, he looked vaguely familiar, maybe even attended the same school as her.
"S-sure, come in," she stuttered at the situation at hand and guided him through the short walk to her pristine bathroom. She assumed that if he was a murderer, she probably didn't stand a chance to live anyways.
They stood in the frame of the door as she explained an overview of what she anticipated for the property.
"I'm Y/n, by the way. Um I'm sure my dad discussed the colouring already? It's a pretty basic palette. Just white on all walls. And let me know if you need anything," she rambled about the task at hand and gestured to the room. Every second brought a more vivid shade of red to her cheeks as the man did not lift his gaze from her own. He must've had the most fervent stare, with green eyes so intense they seemed to bore holes right through her.
"I'm Judd," the corner of his mouth pulled up a little, bemused at the blathering mess before him. She was quite cute, he thought, blushing without him even doing anything. He wondered what was to occur if he actually played along.
With that thought in mind, Judd leaned forward, causing Y/n's back to press against the frame of the door behind her. He put one arm above her head, easily towering over her, and focussed that piercing gaze straight into her eyes. She practically cowered beneath him, gulping audibly as she watched thick charcoal strands of hair fall into his face.
"Oh- oh, um," Y/n flatteringly reacted, her whole face now visibly burning. She felt a flicker of heat begin to pool at her core, incredibly turned on and confused at the same time. She definitely knew him now, recognized by the countless times he's been seated outside their principle's office.
And then it was over. Like a flash of lightning, he was back and doubled over, laughing his literal ass off at the sight before him. Y/n dead panned.
"Okay. Real fucking funny, Birch," she rolled her eyes and face palmed at the rebel. She didn't feel stupid, but had instead already begun plotting revenge.
"You should've seen- oh your face was so- just," he slowly started to calm down, still grinning like the maniacal teen he was branded as.
Then, Y/n did the unexpected. She leaned up, and placed one arm around his neck, and the other slid across his back. Her lips met his in a dash, and the warm composition took Judd by surprise. Nonetheless, he complied. He had no complaints about this girl getting on him, and eagerly kissed back. He wouldn't mind getting a quick fuck in before his next appointment anyways. Although, this was definitely breaking the 2m apart rule.
Y/n grasped onto the shirt of Judd's back and continued to make out with him. She felt his tongue poke at her mouth, and quickly let him enter. Their mouths were mangled in a tie as Y/n brought one hand down to massage the area between Judd's hips. He growled in response and his member grew with every minute of her touch. Once he was fully hard, they had been out of breath from making out, with pupils dilated from lust.
Y/n felt this and, like the little devil she was, promptly moved away and removed contact from the man. He was hunched forward a bit from trying to savour the taste of her sweet lips, and immediately furrowed his brows at the loss of touch.
She was smirking and Judd was left with a hard-on. He tried to form a coherent thought—although the rush of blood to his dick was interfering with his brain; what the fuck was going on?
Y/n immediately burst into a fit of giggles at the situation she created.
"Okay, now your face! It's really the best- oh," she swiftly turned to her left and started strutting back to her desk.
Judd, now finally realizing what was going on, sprinted after her until his chest stood as a shield between her and anything else. He had an animalistic look in his eyes as he glared. This girl seemed like she'd be more than a quick fuck. He was going to ruin her.
"You're so not going to get away with this. Wait till' you see what I have in store, princess," he growled, and Y/n felt the familiar heat begin to pool below again. She smirked, eyes twinkling as she looked up at the cryptic man before her, knowing she made him into this mess of a situation.
"Try me," she figured her bathroom would have to wait another day.
X
hi! so i figured i should cross-post some of my stuff? also sr. year me did pretty good w this one lol .. this may have reawakened my thing for him
#judd birch#judd birch x reader#judd birch x fem! reader#big mouth#cw: suggestive#can you believe this came from my imagination?#tbh this was not that long ago#he's still hot though#omg it's 4am#judd x reader
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THAT WAS PERFECT. SPOILERS FOR EP. 4 OF OUR SKYY 2 x BBS X ATOTS.
What can I say. I don't really know what to say. I'm going to blather because otherwise I'm gonna start really crying in this Starbucks.
I have so much Aof on my mind right now, especially with wrapping up not just this Our Skyy 2 series, but Bad Buddy, ATOTS, and finishing off He's Coming To Me last night (which I haven't intentionally processed yet, because I want to do a little rewatching before I get any passing words down).
Another thing I wanted to consider before starting on the episode is that while I've been so hugely focused on Pat and Pran, that I was also saying goodbye to my very first Aof couple in Phupha and Tian. I watched ATOTS WELL before even ever thinking about doing a Thai BL watchlist. I literally only watched ATOTS to get to know Earth and Mix before the premiere of Moonlight Chicken, close to the time that I joined Tumblr last summer. And I was fucking HOOKED after that.
I mean, before I get into my thoughts on this episode, I think what I'm feeling is similar to how I felt when I finished Bad Buddy. I just feel really fulfilled as an Asian that an Asian director is exploring all of these monumental themes in such an in-depth, loving, empathic, and creative way, vis à vis the lens of queer Asian characters in Asia dealing with issues very familiar to my own culture, and my watching how these characters, vis à vis the writing and direction of Aof himself, navigate those worlds.
What I'm realizing about this episode are a number of themes -- again, themes, as I wrote this morning to dear @wen-kexing-apologist, that I see Aof returning to time and time again. (I'm feeling really surprisingly emotional still, so this post is going to ramble a bit, the writing is not calming things down as it usually does.)
I think what's getting me really emotional here is that this episode was about transcendence -- HUGE transcendence on the part of Phupha, but on all the other guys, too. But in regards to how the transcendence STARTED, and from whom and to whom it started: it all happened when Pat and Pran arrived in Pha Pun Dao, and experienced Tian and Phupha, and vice versa. All of them experienced each other, and all of them changed because of it. Because they had found queer community amongst each other, they were able to share their experiences with new people, compare stories and emotions, and grow the better because of it.
Something I didn't realize last week was (or maybe I did, and I can't remember writing about it, because I'm a jumble): Pat and Pran moved again, Hegel-ian style, as I wrote in my massive BBS thesis. They went from Bangkok to Pha Pun Dao, a nicely big trip. Pat and Pran move, independently and together, always searching for their synthesis, which they can't QUITE find, because their families are in the way.
But they came REAL close to a public synthesis in this episode, and we know that they were essentially on another out honeymoon in Pha Pun Dao last week and this week, knowing that they were in the company of another queer couple, as @wen-kexing-apologist so sharply noted last night.
And then -- vis à vis Phupha's permission, a new modality of finding openness and honesty -- they came as close to a public synthesis, together, in the play as they could possibly find. While still closeted to almost everyone around them. They were still able to provide cover for fucking Dissaya. But they were as out as they could be between BBS episodes 11 and 12.
And that's just Pat and Pran's transcendence journey. With each Pat and Pran having separate conversations with Tian and Phupha in Pha Pun Dao, they could TRANSCEND THEMSELVES, their biases about their relationship with each other, and reflect on what holds people back in their own relationship. Indirectly, Pat and Pran were learning about what was holding Phupha back in being open and honest with Tian, and reflecting back to Chief on how THEY related to that (as communicative and reflecting youngsters), and Phupha could see THEIR processing, and learn from that. Pat and Pran could process because THEY found queer community, as much as Phupha and Tian did.
So: back to Aof and his themes. The theme of community building. How building a community and strength in numbers can help you grow.
It was so meaningful to hear Phupha comment that no one understood Phupha and Tian better than Pat and Pran. BECAUSE YOU NEED COMMUNITY TO GROW TOGETHER, AND THAT IS WHAT AOF IS SAYING FOR EQUITY FOR THE ASIAN QUEER COMMUNITY: FIND EACH OTHER AND BE TOGETHER, STRONGER. There are so many forces working against that community in each country of the continent, in their own ways.
And what happens when that happens, when people find community? You get strength and growth. You get a story like Phupha, who UTTERLY TRANSCENDED HIMSELF IN THIS EPISODE, MY GAWD. And Phupha did a Bad Buddy, he did a Hegelian thesis transition. HE MOVED. HE CROSSED HIS BORDERS and WENT TO THE CITY. As Pat and Pran, in episode 11, had to go to the eco-village -- Phupha needed to go to the city to close this newly awakened circle in him to confirm his relationship with Tian, and to find his sturdiness and commitment in living his life to take care of his partner.
Phupha found his courage through Pat, seeing how utterly OPEN and sappy Pat was to Pran. Phupha found that HE COULD STILL BE HIMSELF through Pran, hearing and seeing Pran's own reticence, Pran's own inclination to hold himself back. Phupha saw himself and Tian in Pat and Pran, and saw how a different paradigm could play out, simply with different mindsets.
I'm feeling really, just.... I am feeling really deeply grateful that we got to close out all of this on Phupha's story. Especially discussed among the friends (@lurkingshan, @shortpplfedup, @bengiyo, @wen-kexing-apologist, @ginnymoonbeam, and @kyr-kun-chan) -- could the ATOTS story have held up WITHOUT Pat and Pran?
Maybe? But, but, but. That wasn't Aof's point -- AT ALL.
Aof's point was to hammer home the equity of community. How you can be a BETTER PERSON when OTHER PEOPLE are helping you reflect, with THEIR PERSPECTIVES, on your life and your struggles.
There's a part of me that thinks here that there's a parable regarding the importance of having the freedom TO BE OUT. Each of the four guys -- Tian, Phupha, Pat, and Pran -- have their own ways of dealing with outness, and what it means to them. Each of them has their own group of people that would be affected by their outness.
And, fucking Christ, how beautiful. What we got to see in this episode is the internal reckoning of each character -- BUT ESPECIALLY PHUPHA, BECAUSE HE'S THE ELDEST AND WAS LIKELY EXPERIENCING THE MOST DIFFICULTY IN ADAPTING BECAUSE OF HIS PAST EXPERIENCES that we know nothing about (Uncle Jim, Uncle Jim).
We see Pran's reckoning at the moment of the play -- that he's gonna fool Dissaya. We see Pat not giving a toss for Ming. We see Tian WANTING Phupha in with his parents.
Each of the guys are in a different place and a different moment with their micro-circles. They needed to talk about their own stories with each other, and to hear each other tell their own stories, to build this story together of community.
They needed to each, vis à vis all of each other, that each one of them, individually, do need to compromise -- but not to GIVE UP THEIR LIVES for each other, or for anyone else in their lives.
None of these guys needed to give up their lives to compromise to each other's demands or characteristics. Pat and Pran do not need to use their lives to repay the fucking foibles of their parents. They're gonna play their parents until their parents are ready, which I love and think that that's very realistic and empathic from the lens of Asian filial piety. (I LOVE @grapejuicegay's analysis -- and I like it, and am going with, the read that Pran needs to get separation from Dissaya through Singapore. Boy, do I ever fucking relate to that.)
Phupha doesn't need to use his life of reticence and secrecy to repay... what -- the world's bias against the queer community? Thailand's bias against public servants being out and open?
And Tian's is helping him through that. But Phupha couldn't have done this ONLY with Tian, because Tian has his own needs and his own issues, his own stubbornness, that Phupha and Tian need to contend with as a couple.
Phupha needed the big push, he needed the push of the community that Pat and Pran provided, and the objective REFLECTION that Pat and Pran provided vis à vis the play, to TRANSCEND himself and get to a place of openness and comfort.
And he found that, in the arms of Tian, but also in the acceptance of Tian's parents and Tian's community in Tul.
I think it is really ripping my heart apart that the close of ATOTS was told with the story of Bad Buddy. I actually don't see it ending any other way. And we didn't get a close of Bad Buddy, per se. We're getting the close of Pat and Pran and OhmNanon, for sure, but we know the boys will find ways to move forward in our beloved world of fiction, wherever they go.
We do know that Phupha has committed, openly, in family and community, to love and care for Tian, Tian with the borrowed heart and the thousandth star on his finger -- and that's exactly an ending for ATOTS that I could have asked for.
I have more to process... but mom needs a break and a cocktail tonight. I could not have asked for anything more than this -- I am so fulfilled.
#our skyy 2 x bad buddy#our skyy 2 x a tale of thousand stars#our skyy 2 x bad buddy x a tale of a thousand stars#our skyy 2 x bbs x atots#bad buddy#bad buddy the series#a tale of thousand stars#atots#pat x pran#pran x pat#patpran#pranpat#tian x phupha#phupha x tian#mix sahaphap#earth pirapat#nanon korapat#ohm pawat#ohmearth#OHMEARTH 2024#asian queer community#asian queer themes
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On Fanfic, Print-to-Read and Legal Grey Areas
I've had a number of PMs on tumblr and AO3 over the last few months asking if I'd ever consider doing a printed 3D version of Forward but Never Forget/XOXO the way it's popular on fanfictok.
And my feelings are Many :3
It should be noted that there is a difference between printing vs publishing. It should also be noted that sites like Lulu.com have been used in the past to print copies of fanfic - some of which are even up for purchase like regular old books.
However, fanfic, by virtue of its ambiguous occupation in the digital domain, is full of caveats in the form of "Yes, but..." and "Well, actually."
As a medium, fanfic enjoys protections so long as it's being hosted on sites such as AO3, FFnet and other platforms which have the apparatus (legally) to defend the content. To do so, said content needs to be fair use (no profit is being made off its distribution) and transformative, i.e. it takes original content and contributes something new to it.
While the act of printing a fanfic for personal use technically straddles the line between Yea and Nay, it should be noted that the printers, shipping agents and other sundry parties are still making money off of the process. Thus, there is still a commercial profit being made for a technically illegal work, even if the money is not going into the fanfic writer's pocket or to the original creators.
Lulu in its FAQ policy also discourages fanfic from being hosted on its platform - and has been known to take down the accounts/works if they're flagged.
Riot Games as a company are also incredibly litigious when it comes to their intellectual property. They state in their own FAQ that unless it's fair use, any distribution of their stuff will earn you a swat on the rear. Non-commercial projects like Kickstarters, Patreons and Ko-Fi to crowdsource works for widespread distribution are also a no-no.
All of this is to say: it's unlikely I'd put FnF out as a print version at any point in the near future.
:(
I am incredibly flattered folks like this fic enough to want to read it in 3D print, and all the messages of support make me so happy<3
Legal ditherings and blatherings aside:
If you would like to reproduce my works as printed books for your own use, without any intent to distribute them for profit, this is my blanket consent post.
Go for it<3
And please share pics - I would be delighted to see them!
I'm hopeful, that as fanfiction gains traction as a more mainstream medium, that large corporations will be less fussy about its consumption in fandom spaces. However, recent trends are not hopeful in that sphere.
Even fair use content that is now in the public domain has the OG copyright holders clutching their pearls and summoning their lawyers - see the whole Enola Holmes and Sherlock is too Emuuuuutional! hilarity.
I encourage everyone interested in fanfic - and keeping the medium alive and thriving - to check out the Center for Internet and Society. We're going to have a lot of dialogue in the coming years re: net neutrality, fair use, free speech, and copyright, and I promise you, the era will be a litigious one.
Forewarned is forearmed.
Also please support sites like AO3 that, whatever their faults, do so much to keep fandom content alive, and give it a global platform. Especially for LGBTQ+ works, which continue to be squelched and otherwise suppressed in so many parts of the globe.
Also please feel free to contribute further info to this post - and start dialogue.
Just keep it polite and respectful<3
#arcane#arcane league of legends#forward but never forget/xoxo#forward (never forget)/xoxo#fanfiction#ao3#ao3 fanfic#fanfic printing
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✧ ˚ · . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone who doesn't like the following: kissing, making out in public, Charlie might be a lil OOC, just a lil, but there's no sexual intercourse so yay!! the kids can stay for this one.. There is just a teeny tiny hint in here that Robbie might've been onto Charlie when the killings started and it's there for a potential reason . writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ · .
prompt - costumes ( the bonus blurbs )
character | fandom - charlie walker | scream series
reader | original character - female reader, Riley!reader & non -or vague, description.
words - roughly 1.4k
tagging - < taglist here >
✧ ˚ · . Kirby plays a little matchmaker. Charlie likes your costume and after a lil public make out, decides to take you back to his place..✧ ˚ · .
❝ Isn’t it a little crass? I mean people are here dressed like the psycho.❞ you’re standing in the corner of the Stab-A-Thon after party with a black plastic cup in your right hand as your eyes dart around the thickening crowd that still lingers in the old movie theater.
Kirby nudges you in the side and nods to your classmate, Charlie. ❝ He used to be obsessed with me, remember? He hasn’t spoken to me in over two weeks now. It’s been really peaceful.❞ she laughs when she says it. You find yourself pinned by a pair of high def baby blues and you raise the cup to your lips, taking a thoughtful sip.
Kirby’s still blathering on about her latest conquest, some fuckboy frat brother from State, and you’re pretending to listen but you’re not hearing a word. And everything going on around you both is just faded, it becomes background noise til it’s totally gone.
You don’t even realize you’ve been staring for the better part of five minutes until one of Kirby’s friends wanders over and clears her throat, snapping her fingers in your face. As Kirby follows your gaze, she smirks to herself and speaks up after taking a sip from her cup. ❝ Let’s go circulate, Em.. Leave __ to hold up the wall for a little while.❞
The pair of teenage girls exchange looks and wander away and you’re content to go back to people watching. You’ve just turned away to get yourself some more heavily spiked punch from the big glass bowl sat on the table when you hear a throat clear from behind you.
You whirl around, red punch sloshes out of your cup and right onto the front of Charlie Walker’s favorite plaid button up. You swear under your breath and grab for napkins as you apologize profusely and try to use the napkins to mop up the stain. Charlie’s standing taller, he normally slouches, normally, he doesn’t care to be noticed.
But he’s done everything he can think of lately where you’re concerned and not a single thing has worked. If you’re ever alone with him, you’re quick to bolt, you barely speak or there’s this thick tension that settles in and threatens to choke him to death.
But when Kirby wandered over earlier, she seemed determined to think he should give it another shot, yet again. Some bullshit about the way you’re always staring at him. Or you volunteer for things that honestly don’t interest you at all, like say, Film Club.. It all went in one ear and right out the other but now that he’s standing in front of you, it’s playing over and over again in his head like a broken record on repeat.
Your hands are shaking just a little as you frown to yourself. The stain isn’t budging, if anything, it’s spreading. You want to disappear into the floor, this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t have such a crush on the older boy that you turn into a total nervous wreck when he’s around.
Charlie chuckles quietly. Wordlessly, he unbuttons the shirt and ties it around his waist, leaving him in a white tank top. You nearly choke on the gum you’re chewing at the sight of biceps that stay perpetually hidden away by the oversized tees and button downs that Charlie seems to favor.
He steps up into you, your lower back meets the edge of the snack table with a soft smack. He’s patting you between the shoulders and you finally manage to clear the chewed gum out of your airways enough to breathe again, laughing softly at yourself for being so easily flustered.
❝ You’re new, right? I think we have 3rd together.. And you joined Film Club last week too.. Didn’t you? I thought I saw you at the last meeting when Trae was being such a fuckin dick and tryin to scare you..❞ he knows damn well you’re in that class and Film Club, same as he knows the rest of your schedule like the back of his hand. You’re the daughter of horror royalty. Or so rumor has it you’re the daughter of Tatum Riley, one of the OG victims. Because it’s the only theory that makes any sense. Why else would Officer Riley leave town and return from a much needed vacation with a teenager who just happens to bear an eerie resemblance to the sister he lost years before?
Not to mention, he thinks to himself, she’s a fucking knockout.
❝ Yeah.❞ you mutter quietly. When your tongue drags over the outline of your mouth, Charlie’s fist clenches and he has to fight back a whimper. The same as every single time you wear those little skirts or sundresses to class and you constantly uncross and recross your legs the whole damn time.
❝ Have you been interviewed for the video yearbook yet?❞ he’s in charmer mode now, baby blues flit over a racy little black cat costume and the way the dress of it is not only short, it’s tight enough to fit like a second skin. ❝ No, I haven’t.❞ you mumble your answer in a daze, falling quiet again just so you don’t make things super awkward or say something dumb.
He chuckles quietly and nods to the black cat costume you’re wearing for the night. ❝ Cute costume. You know black cats are bad luck though, right?❞
You laugh and shake your head. ❝ Bullshit! That’s only if they cross your path.❞ and you’re not stupid, you’re starting to become aware of the fact that your current hallway crush is flirting. Hard. So maybe this encourages your decision to flirt back. Harder. You step up to him and bite your lip, your head tilted to stare up at him as you drag a finger over the front of his tank top.
Charlie can’t stop the quiet whimper when it comes. You giggle softly and speak up again, ❝ Now if a black cat chooses you, Charlie…❞ you muse thoughtfully as your hand curls in the front of his tank top and you melt into him even more, ❝ that’s actually good luck.❞
He steps up into you even closer. He thinks that he’ll go overboard, you’ll get skittish like you seem to with the other boys, so he’s shocked when instead of you rushing away -saving your own life, he thinks to himself, you’re all batting lashes and soft, velvety voice as your nose grazes against the tip of his and you mumble softly, ❝ You gonna kiss me or not, Charlie Walker?❞
Baby blue eyes widen and he nearly chokes on his own drink. Then he smirks and the plastic cup finds a space on the snack table at your back as he leans in just a little closer, big hands squeezing at your soft and curvy little body as his mouth makes a determined march towards your own. ❝ Didn’t know you wanted me to, _ Riley..❞ is mumbled soft against your lips as his tongue parts them,dominating your own.
Your hands catch in his ponytail and you pull it free. The kiss deepens and Charlie’s hands settle on your ass, squeezing as he lifts you just enough to sit you on a clear spot on the table, stepping between your legs as his hands roam over your body. You’re clumsily rubbing yourself against him and when your mouth strays first, he’s whimpering ❝ Fuck.❞ under his breath as he leans down into you heavily. The kiss breaks and he smirks a little because your red lipstick is smeared. You’re still working on catching your breath, clinging to his body as you laugh softly to yourself.
❝ You uh.. Interested in a private showing of the extended version of Stab? At my house?❞ Charlie asks against the shell of your ear as you giggle and lean into him again to whisper against his ear, ❝ Very. Can we like.. Can we leave now? Pretty please?❞
He scoops you off the table and as he’s carrying you out the door, Robbie stops him. ❝ Dude, you’re blowing off the after party?❞
But you’re squirming in his arms and nipping at his neck and quite frankly, Charlie only hung out this long because he was working up the nerve to try and approach you again in the first place, so he chuckles as he nods at Robbie’s question. ❝ Gonna have my own after party, Mercer.❞
Robbie’s hand rests against the back of his head and as he watches the two of you walk out the door together, he laughs to himself and shakes his head. ❝ Yeah, there’s no way Trevor’s right about Charlie being one of the killers this time. The idiot’s been too busy chasing Officer Riley’s niece all over town since she moved here…❞
#charlie walker#charlie walker fanfiction#charlie walker fic#charlie walker x reader#charlie walker x riley!fem reader#charlie walker x y/n#charlie walker x you#( ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ʟɪsᴛ ✔)#lazyghoulskinktober2023#( ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏɴᴜs ʙʟᴜʀʙs )
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