#building nerds (derogatory)

[eumjaybside]

can't get over joel's silent torment of bdubs. what do you mean bdubs doesn't have a nether portal so he uses joel's and has to stare at Decapitated Horse Fountain (tm) every time he goes. what do you mean bdubs was breeding allays but the only disc he had was joel's Horse Kill ASMR. its too funny

[geddy-leesbian]

a while back @highball66 made a post about Leon being a nerd that would probably play MTG, and apparently the concept got lodged in my brain so here's a drabble of Leon and Luis meeting at an MTG prerelease because those two are def nerds like that

I had their twink era RE2 era in mind when writing this, but not sure how much it actually matters

Leon had been apprehensive about coming here, expecting the crowd to be the stereotypical basement dwellers with noticeably bad hygiene. But he still came, because he's brand new to this city and didn't know anyone, or have any other ideas for how to meet people. Well, that's not entirely true. He knows some people, his coworkers. The problem is just that his naive belief that cops are morally upstanding folks that help people has been shattered beyond repair, and he has zero desire to spend any time with them outside of work. (He doesn't want to go to work with them either, but he has to, until he gets another job lined up.)

So it wasn't like Leon had anything to lose coming here, just a faint possibility to gain something.

There were a few of the basement dwellers Leon expected, but there was also something he absolutely did not expect: A very gorgeous man with tan skin, soft gray eyes, and a smile that's just about blinding. He's sitting across the room, and Leon keeps stealing glances at him. He’s clearly very experienced, with how fast he sorts his cards into his piles. Leon looks down at his own cards to sort and when he looks back up the man is already done with his own deck, counting to make sure he had the right amount, quickly sleeving it, and then scooping up the cards he wasn't playing to put them away.

He stands up and starts striding across the room, and Leon has to make a conscious effort to not stare and drool at the man. He's taller than Leon thought. He's got long, lean legs and the most perfect hips Leon has ever seen. And then somehow he's talking to Leon.

“Mind if I sit here?” He has an accent. It's hot. Leon had set his bag on the chair next to him, but moves it so the ridiculously hot stranger can take a seat. “This is your first time coming here? First time playing..?”

“Do I stick out that bad?”

“Not really. It's just that I know I would have recognized you if you'd been here before. I could never forget such a pretty face,” Did this guy seriously just call Leon pretty? In a warm, genuine tone, like it's actually a compliment? Leon is quite used to comments like that, but in a derogatory manner. "Compliments" hurled at him in mocking tones. “But I will admit, you do look a little lost. Do you want help building your deck?”

“Yeah, sure. I've played before, back in high school, but never made any decks. Just played with decks my friends would let me borrow. I wanted to have my own, but my foster parents thought the game was basically devil worship and would've been dragging my ass to the pastor if they ever found cards under their roof.”

Leon worries that might have been a little too personal too fast, but he's not sure Tall Hot Guy was even listening. He doesn't say anything, and seems laser focused on Leon's cards.

“Off to a good start, with your sorting,” In the time Tall Hot Guy made a deck, all Leon managed to do was open all his packs and sort them by color. Tall Hot Guy starts going through the piles, picking out some cards to set aside. “Prereleases are good for beginners. New cards, new mechanics, so even people with experience won't know everything. Besides, you're not even the only new player here. Now, I think you have enough for mono red, so we keep it simple and do that, if there isn't anything else you'd rather do?”

“That's fine, whatever you think is good. You're the expert.”

The “help” is less help and more just him doing everything. But he does talk as he goes through cards and starts laying them out. Leon is fine with the situation.

“Mana curve, it's important. This is your deck laid out from lowest to highest mana cost,” So there is a method to the madness. He figured there was a reason they were laid out the way they were, but hadn't figured it out. “You want variety, because you want to be doing things every turn. You need big win condition cards, but you don't want to just be sitting by idly waiting several turns to get enough mana for them, you need small things too. Of course you can get unlucky enough to not draw your lower cards early, but at least the odds are better if you have a good mix of low and high cards.”

Tall Hot Guy finishes the spells in Leon's deck and gets up to fetch the basic lands it will need from the shop's communal land station, and grabs something out of his bag too. He needs to stop standing up, because every time Leon really struggles to not ogle him. Curse those stupid skintight jeans.

Leon puts away the unused cards, except for one stack Tall Hot Guy made for reasons Leon really can't figure out. It seems so random, cards from every color.

“Hey, what's this stack of cards next to the deck?”

“Oh, those are just cards that I think will maybe be worth something,” After putting the lands on top of Leon’s deck, Tall Hot Guy starts putting the other stack in card sleeves. “These are extra sleeves you can have, to keep these in good shape in case you do want to sell them at some point.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“I've already told you that you have a pretty face, right? I'm a sucker for a pretty face. I want you to have fun playing here, so you come back. Now, let me give you some pointers on what your deck wants to do!”

Leon hadn't expected this guy to actually stay and keep talking. He said Leon wasn't the only new player, so he figured once he got Leon's deck together he'd go over and help out the other newbies. But no. The only thing that Tall Hot Guy seems interested in is just talking Leon's ear off. This isn't a general newbie thing, there's something about Leon specifically. He barely absorbs a word he's saying, he's too busy staring at his stupid perfect face and messy curly hair he wants to touch.

Leon jumps up the second a game store employee calls out that deck building time is up and pairings are ready, because he really needs to get the hell away from this guy that's making him feel things his recent ex-girlfriend never could. He gets a slip of paper with his name and the name of his opponent: Dr. Lewis Serra. He looks around, totally lost, because he doesn't know anyone. Of course, Tall Hot Guy approaches him again.

“Do you need help finding your opponent?”

“First my deck, now helping me find someone, you're a real knight in shining armor, aren't you?” Was that flirty? Doesn't knight in shining armor usually have some romantic connotations? Did Leon actually just flirt with this guy? He's pretty sure he did. Christ. “You know who, uh, Dr. Lewis Serra is?”

“You're looking at him. Your knight just so happens to be your first opponent too. Guess it's just you and me, pretty boy,” The words make Leon's face heat up, but thankfully Lewis turns his back to Leon quickly, to lead him to a table. He just hopes and prays the blushing will have subsided before he sits down and faces Lewis. “By the way, the name is actually Luis Serra. The name on the slip is a stupid nickname that just won't die.”

“There a story behind it?”

“I suppose, depending on how you want to define story. Some idiot I played once thought that my name was pronounced like Lewis, and everyone else thought it was really funny. That's it. Like I said, stupid.”

“What about the Dr. part?”

“Oh, that, ah, that actually isn't a nickname. To toot my own horn, I was a real child prodigy. I got my PhD in biology when I was 16,” Oh great. This guy is tall, hot, and insanely smart. Be still Leon's beating heart. “Normally I'm humble and never introduce myself with the title, I don't want to seem pretentious. And I like to keep my work and personal life separate. It being on the slip is not my choice. I've asked them to stop putting it here, but of course they just think it's funny that it annoys me!”

“Well, there are worse nicknames. My coworkers call me Leon Stupid Kennedy.”

“Wow. Okay. You win, yanqui, I have no right to complain about being Dr. Lewis,” Luis lifts his life die up. “High roll? Or I can just let you go first, since you're a beginner?”

“Such a gentleman, guess I'll just go first.”

Leon's deck is as straightforward as Luis promised. He plays mountains. He taps mountains and casts creature spells that he attacks with. There are some instant and sorcery spells in there too, but not a lot and they're pretty simple, mostly just kill spells.

Luis's deck is complicated, which is no surprise. Just about every single card he plays triggers some combo on cards he already has out, and he's constantly drawing cards, scrying, tapping and untapping things, putting counters on shit… It's impossible for Leon to keep up with. But he doesn't really need to. It doesn't matter what Luis is up to, his deck is meant to just keep attacking regardless of what his opponent is doing. And it… Actually works? He thought he was going to get his ass handed to him, but then he gets Luis down to 5 life…

“You got me. There's no way I can win now,” Luis says, scooping his board up and starting to shuffle his deck. “Game two!”

-

“Oye, earth to Leon, you in there?” Jesus Christ. Luis played a card that required him to shuffle his library and Leon completely zoned out staring at Luis's hands. At first he was just looking at his rings, but then he was just watching his hands shuffling his deck, thinking about what else those fingers could do… What the hell is wrong with Leon? “It's your turn!”

“Right. Sorry. Just zoned out.”

Game two does go to Luis. Quite possibly because Leon kept swooning over him and getting distracted.

But somehow Leon gets his shit together enough to win game three. Luis goes up to report the result of their match, and then the other players that are done gather around and give Luis some shit for losing to a beginner. Leon's anxiety suddenly kicks into overdrive and he gets hit with a vision of Luis throwing him under the bus to protect his own reputation, saying something about how Leon sucks and Luis could have crushed him if he tried, but he went easy on him, and Leon would spend the rest of the night questioning if he actually knows how to play. Being an outcast among other outcasts would be a new low for him.

It doesn't happen. Luis doesn't even dignify the comments with a response, just wanders away from them to glance at the ongoing matches. Leon is both relieved and disappointed that Luis doesn't try to talk to him again. Not until the end of the night, after prize packs are being handed out.

“So… Will I be seeing your pretty face around here again? You won three packs, you could save them for a Friday Night Magic draft for free?”

“Yeah. Think I will.”

Leon isn't sure what exactly a Friday Night Magic draft is, but he'll figure it out.

[stardew-obsessed-ora]

I've been avoiding posting just so that Ulrich's ref could be my 100th POST. RAHHH. WOOO IT'S DONE!!

For anyone whose new to seeing this man, his name is Ulrich Althaus (Ulrich Mephisto Althaus if we're referring to him in other canons). He's a Technical Lead for Joja Corporations, and despite being introverted, he can come off as rather judgmental to people who don't know him well enough to understand how he speaks. He's around 18 years old when he first arrives in the Republic itself, finding himself staying around Downtown Zuzu for a while. He's somewhere in his late 20s/early 30s when he stations himself in the valley itself and tries to gather the resources to set up a Joja Brand tech store. In his mind, he truly, deeply believes that Joja can help benefit the valley. He ends up having rose-tinted glasses over the company for the longest time, and gradually has those viewpoints shattered the longer he stays within the valley. Of course, I plan on building his lore up gradually and through slow answers here and there, so I'm really trying not to spew out too much :3 also he's ungodly picky i mean he hates more than the average farmer LMFAO. bro has most of the universal hates too

More general description stuff/expansion stuff (fair warning its long):

 Ulrich's personality is a fascinating one. He feels as though he has a reputation to uphold, and will often shut down most, if not all critique coming toward him unless they are genuine. He often-times does not stand for attacks on his own character. Usually though, he’s the one giving critique to others, but it mostly comes off as insults rather than from a genuine place of concern due to how blunt he is. The way he phrases things tends to be derogatory in nature due to his lack of filter. He tends to get annoyed when people act offended, and genuinely doesn’t understand why they took his concern the way they did.

Unfortunately, due to the nature of feeling he has to constantly uphold a reputation, he is quite the perfectionist. It's difficult for him to accept his own mistakes without shutting down and having to distance himself from the situation awhile. To put it simply, he feels like he’s failed those around him through his errors. While he gives others the opportunity to correct their margin of error, he would never give himself that leeway. 

Due to Ulrich’s lack of social understanding, he tends to struggle at fraternizing with others and oftentimes misses obvious jokes or sarcasm within sentences. He is particularly bad at this when matched with tone through text, and will often find himself over-explaining something that didn’t need to be explained to begin with just to be met with “blah blah blah its a joke”. Though his lack of tonal understanding is better in person, he can still be found occasionally left confused and bewildered at interactions.  

Speaking of social scenarios with Ulrich, he is relatively introverted, and prefers brief interactions with strangers in person as to not burn himself out. He prefers interactions with little to no people around, and in general much prefers spaces with little to no activity. This is one of many reasons which his line of work involves remote involvement and virtual meetings on his end. While this issue does not present itself in online chatrooms, he still finds himself burnt out of interaction occasionally if he’s had to speak to those hes unfamiliarized with for too long. 

To those he’s come to know, however, he can be a rather clingy, overprotective individual who wishes for nothing more than to be there for the ones he’s come to love. His clingy nature comes from a place of fear, as he doesn’t want to go through losing someone else he’s come to grow close to. Though, he can be a bit overbearing at points. 

Other Likes:  

 - He highly enjoys programming, creating things from scratch through the languages he knows,  and being able to experience anything which was decently coded. He’s actually a total nerd for video games and especially for computer viruses. He loves being able to dissect things like that. 

He enjoys heavy metal music and EDM. His playlist can be a jumpscare for those entirely oblivious to his music tastes.

He enjoys hiking and exploring alone in his free-time. Its relaxing for him to be able to get out and exercise in any way he can. 

He’s a total dork for mythology and the study of all things surrounding mythological creatures. 

He gets overly hyper during the festival of the moonlight jellies 

He’d never actually admit it, but he really likes dancing, the art behind dancing, and is a decent dancer himself. 

Other Dislikes: 

He has a phobia of needles

He’s outright terrified of Krampus. His father told him ONE tale for bedtime and it forever sealed his fate. 

He dislikes overly loud and obnoxious individuals, finding them quick to drain him. 

He dislikes summer, finding himself overheating easily in the harsh sun

Despite being a Joja employee, he somewhat holds disdain for the way a majority of the branches are run. 

Geese. I don’t need to explain this one, I’m sure it’s justifiable.

Strengths:

One of Ulrich’s greatest strengths is how agile he is. Being relatively skilled on his feet, he is able to run away from most confrontations. Of course, he’d find that shameful, so instead he uses this agility of his to get to and from places at concerning speeds. He might have knee issues, but that doesn't mean he's not fast as fuck.

He's a total computer nerd. Got a tech problem? He’s probably your guy to help out. 

He’s a surprisingly good chef

He was also taught a decent amount of fishing by his father, making him decent at it. 

He’s very outspoken about how he feels regarding any given situation

Weaknesses:

He’s ass at farming. Do not make this man do farmwork, you’ll regret it deeply. Please PLEASE don’t make this man do farm work.

He has the depth perception of a literal toddler. If he’s running somewhere, there’s a 50% chance he’ll slam into a pole on the way there.

As stated in his bio, he has difficulty in social situations. This can make bonding with others difficult, and causes him his fair share of conflict. Especially when he mistakes a joke as a snide remark and starts to comment about how it shouldn’t have been said and it spirals out of control.

He’s stubborn to a fault. He has a very stern set of morals which are hard to bend. Not only that, but his strict internal code causes him to react oddly to anything which bends it even slightly, causing even MORE conflict on his part. 

He’s very outspoken about how he feels regarding any given situation

close up on some things that might be hard to read + the chibis that im absurdly attached to (i might post them standalone)

[ettadunham]

inon zur, the man you are.

is this cheating? maybe. possibly. probably.

okay, so context. i have been doing this thing where i play a random adventure game spit out by a random generator program i created (because i'm a nerd). as a result, every now and then, you'll find a short write-up about some weird obscure little video game on my tumblr blog. it's just one of the many things that you have to put up with if you decided to follow me for whatever reason. sorry.

then one day, said randomizer spit out syberia 3, and let me tell you, i was delighted! this was the first time i had a game i already played on my list, so obviously, this meant a replay. but not just any replay. i now had to replay the entire series! obviously.

is this what i've done for other games that came up before? no. but you guys don't understand.

syberia is my special little guy.

syberia 1 and 2 are not only largely the reason for my long-lasting obsession with adventure games, they have arguably raised me. i am the human person i am today because i played syberia while listening to complicated by avril lavigne when i was 12. these are the foundations and building blocks of my personality. everything that's wrong with me comes back down to this.

so, yeah. to say that i was excited to get back to this one is a slight understatement. i was vibrating on a frequency previously undetected in human physiology.

i also start with all this to emphasize that, yeah. i have my rose-tinted nostalgia glasses on when it comes to these games. that doesn't mean i don't have my criticisms, especially looking at the game today, but... i cannot not love syberia. it's just science.

i should probably talk about the game itself at some point though, right? i can't just assume that the one person reading this (i see you! hey! thank you <3) is as familiar with the ins and outs of voralberg automatons as i am. so, let's do a synopsis.

syberia is a 2002 point-and-click game about a lawyer named kate walker, who hyperfixate on her work mission to find an old man a bit too much, while going on a train adventure with an autistic-coded automaton named oscar. hijinks ensue!

the game was designed by french developer benoît sokal (rip, king) as a follow-up to his previous game, amerzone. as a kid, i have played through all of his games i could get my hands on, but it's been a while, so i can't quite tell you how much those hold up. from what i remember, he definitely liked his adventurer protags... as well as some potentially questionable depictions of made-up indigenous people.

...let's circle back to that after syberia 2.

but yeah, while we're here, let's actually get some of my criticisms out of the way. this is a game from 2002 written by a french dude and... you could say that it's of its time among other things. for instance the man kate is looking for is mentally disabled, and the game is a bit too liberal in its use of the 'r' word to describe him. (and yes, it was considered an offensive and derogatory term in 2002 too, people were just more inclined to use it back then.)

there are other aspects of the game that one might critique as well, that i mostly find charming. the dialogue is at times clunky (almost as if it was written by someone whose native language is not english...), but the voice actors do a nice job adding character (and possibly tweaking their lines just enough) that it absolutely works on me to this day. it's a little wacky, a little silly, the puzzles sometimes require some pixel hunting, but that's just how these games work!

this one also had the cocktail puzzle, which, in my opinion, is one of the best in the entire series. it really has everything! when i become super rich, i'm going to build that cocktail machine in my house.

other highlights of the game include the big communist boi looming over you in komkolzgrad and just... any other automaton or mechanical machinery in the game. including your train, obviously.

the overall aesthetics of the game? immaculate! i want all my devices to work with a wind up mechanism now.

the one thing though that, in my opinion, truly elevates syberia over its contemporaries is its music. god, the music!!! most people might be familiar with inon zur through his scores for games like the later fallout or dragon age games, but to me, he's always gonna be the guy who went so insanely hard for this somewhat niche little adventure game series.

his score coupled with the automaton designs and the beautiful scenery? absolutely breathtaking. prettier than any modern game.

in conclusion: kate walker, call me!

EDIT: as it was just pointed out to me by @greyaged, the first syberia game was actually scored by nicholas varley and dimitri bodiansky, and only from syberia 2 onwards did inon zur become the series' main composer. needless to say that they all did a fantastic job, but i definitely want to give an extra shout out to varley and bodiansky here, now that i know that they were the ones responsible for this particular game's score. the tracks and motifs they introduce here carry over to zur's scores, and they definitely cement syberia's legacy as a game series with one of the most memorable video game soundtracks in my book. <3

[jaythomasthetrain]

Convention

I myself have only been to one convention ever. I went to a gaming convention about 5 years ago, right before Covid, with a group of my best friends. Walking into the convention, my very mature 14-year-old self was thinking about how strange this was and how I didn't really belong with all these super gamer nerds (mature was satire, btw). Regardless, I continued on, enjoying the convention with my friends. As time went on, I got more and more used to everything and began to be much more accepting of what was going on around me. My friends and I spent hours in the convention center and even bought a ticket to a play in a Fortnite round. I got 89th place; don't ask me why I remember that. I ended up having an absolute blast and really enjoyed the time I had at the convention. The walls in my little 14-year-old mind were broken down a bit because of how everybody was in there. There is no discrimination, making fun of, or judgment, just a bunch of nerds enjoying themselves, and I say nerds with a positive connotation. It builds a sense of community, and I honestly think that's something really special and can't really be found anywhere else. Of course, just a few months later, I began watching anime and absolutely fell in love with it. I have watched over 30 anime completely and have a list of many more that I have yet to watch. Anime has become a very large part of my life and probably is the interest that I have put the most time towards since I started. This love for anime has also led me to read my fair share of manga, but not nearly as much as anime. I like to consider myself one of those super nerds now, and I have no shame in it whatsoever. My friends and I have even made plans multiple times to attend OtakuFest in my home city of Miami. Unfortunately, we have never gone, but I plan on going in the future. I even attended a friend's Halloween party, where everybody had to dress up in One Piece cosplay to get in. I was assigned Ace, and I honestly had a lot of fun cosplaying.

Now, I don't remember enough from that one convention five years ago to write a whole 600 words, so I watched the documentary True Otaku. I had planned on writing the whole blog post about the documentary, but as I watched, I started to remember how I felt during the one convention that I attended. I feel the documentary really backed up what my beliefs were about the community that is built inside those convention centers. Otaku was once a derogatory term, being an otaku was far from good. But over time, people began to be proud of their interests, and it only strengthened as the community grew. Conventions are now a place where everybody is as free as free gets, a true no-judgment zone. They are a place where people who usually may be shunned or made fun of for their interests can be themselves and enjoy their interests with the likes of many others. I think a very strong fandom is a great thing, and nobody should be shunned for having interests. I very much enjoy the fact that people have pride in the word otaku now because they are standing up for themselves and not letting others put them down for having an interest in Japanese culture. I'd like to consider myself an otaku as well, even if I don't have a million copies of manga or cosplay or go to every convention. I have an intense love for Japanese culture, and my life would be very different if I wasn't introduced to it. So, in my humble opinion, yay otaku and yay convention.

[annachibi]

Alan Wake II: The Lake House liveblogging under the cut

I kept things a bit vague but

SPOILERS AHEAD!

mmm crunchy leaf footsteps, love the sound design tasty delicious lore! no humming? well I could never work here oh they done fucked up in here, what did they do, separate the lower floors from reality? wow Jules is a jerk I'm gonna get so lost in this place the ambient music is so creepy GASP IT'S MY BOY brave new world lol he's a nerd (derogatory and affectionate) so they were holding that painter guy from Hartman's lodge I forget what his name was oh no I don't like that shit the flashlight doesn't work on them! run away! hang on what about that thing I picked up WHOO oops I only had 1 OW THAT FUCKIN HURTS oh wait ehehe invulnerability setting oh no there's more of them WHERE AM I GOING oh there's the elevator okay let's take invulnerability off now oh why does it sound like that (mom starts talking about how I should play this at night lol) are we talking to the Dark Presence? the painter? OH THAT IS CREEPY gdi I associate that 3-tone ding with Darling specifically ON THE CAULDRON LAKE BINGO CARD WHAT LOL whispers they know I gotta remember to go back up to that one door if I find a higher clearance keycard why does level 3 feel like random buildings I've been in at night stooop it with the music lol so first impression is that Arbutus has something to do with trees and idk what Rhamnus could be 2 writers… the Bookers? no that's too recent isn't it? Rudolf Lane, that's the guy! so not subject P? unless it's P for painter "clipped phrasing" lol yeah sentence fragments my enemy ATD oh no they reinvented generative AI "the art was not art" did Alan try to stop what was going on here or make it happen? okay this music with the ominous horn might actually be bugged on repeat wheeze this is so meta with the word counts and such who's gonna take one for the team and analyze what the typewriters are typing? okay yeah reloaded and the music was bugged mmm the philosophy of predeterminism oh geeze you guys took a page from Hartman of all people?? talk about ethical concerns "a murder and an urban legend in constant imbalance" sounds a little like AWAN Scratch heheh fucking door Taken lmao NOT FAIR COMING OUT OF THE WALL AAAA shit I'm out of healing items arrogant is kinda the pot calling the kettle black, buddy jesus, Jules is just Hartman 2.0 heheh Estevez looks like a Ghostbuster with this launcher on her back LOL I found a slight bug (will post screenshot later) pointed flashlight at a paint silhouette on the wall, said "Don't you start" and it jumped out at me as if waiting for me to say that lol FUCK OFF MONSTER I'm READING the LORE "Darling was not dreaming big enough" well that was your first mistake, dude does not have small dreams ohoho they canonized Poe into the game! hang on wait WAIT IS THIS A NEW ARG? oh shit idk what I'm signing up for but… oh is this Poe's mailing list? "I'm where I belong" oh :( no :(((( who told you that? did Darling say that? Marshall? Trench? is he younger? I can't tell if that's what's meant by the acne "Murderer and Victim" I know that's for Lane but it also really fits for Dylan too holy SHIT that song is PACKED with layers of meaning, among other things it feels like a song to the players for until Alan Wake 3

hoowhee gonna have to digest this one for a little while!

[vulpes-nothus]

So, my only note here as it relates to the conclusion (if some chuckle fuck didn't read the whole of OPs post, go back and do that) is that the reason why D&D nerds attribute their cool story moments to D&D is entirely by design (derogatory and with vitrol.)

See, the Players Handbook has zero rules for two of three pillars of D&D: Exploration is outright fucking missing, and Role Play has some vague notes on backgrounds and even vaguer skills that are outright ignored in all the other materials, especially published adventures. Everything about interacting with the game world outside of combat has some variation of the phrase, "the DM determines what happens."

Then you open the Dungeon Masters Guide, and it's 300 pages of, "you're the Dungeon Master, figure it out." No real guidance, no real rules that aren't directly related to how magic items work, just long rambling paragraphs follwed by, "figure it out yourself, Dungeon Master." Really quite a far cry from WotCs first DMG, 3e, that had very detailed rules on how to design encounters, environments, NPCs, even building and pricing magic items and houses.

All this vaguary then feeds into WotCs extensive marketing of D&D as a flexible story telling engine that can handle anything. They accomplish this by simply refusing to put down any kind of concrete rules. Sure, combat and modules have rules in them, but that's because if they didn't have rules in them at all, then how could they have a signature D&D brand of adventure (that would sell)? And more to the point, it's much easier to write a linear series of fights that make the players feel like big, tough, nigh-immortal heroes than it is to, say, write rules for how a Bond or an Alignment might actually affect the game world in a definable, mechanical way. They might make a design choice that some customer might not like! And that customer might buy another game!

No, the Wizards of the Coast have instead opted to make a game for Everyone by just not writing down a game rule for anything other than D&D Brand Fights and Adventures. It's the emperors new clothes of game design: there's no rules that say you *can't* do that, so clearly you can at least try! Just tell the DMs they are now unpaid game designers without telling them they are unpaid game designers! Because if we have a million unpaid writers writing custom content for everyone, then it really can be a game for Everyone! And this isn't even covered up, as we have literal heard them say as much in interviews with Mike Mearls and other high ranking wotc representatives in the last year.

And to be clear, none of this is new. I got into the hobby during 3e, and saw the rise and fall of 3e trying very, very hard to be the beloved universal game system, up until it worked so well that they were "losing profits" to games that used their OGL. I saw them try to reel everything back in with 4e, copying the popular MMOs of the time to draw in the new kids while establishing Adventurers League to try and trick the grognards into thinking D&D tournaments were coming back. No one believed them, and most of us started playing Pathfinder or 3e instead. So this isn't something that came out of nowhere, but instead a deliberate design goal that can be traced across nearly 25 years of ttrpg history.

I think this is a week or two late, but there was some fantastic discussion happening on TTRPG Tumblr earlier this month about incentive systems in rpgs - @thydungeongal, @imsobadatnicknames2, and @cavegirlpoems all have good posts that you should read. I’m here though to talk about incentive systems in games more generally. I’m seeing a lot of confusion in the notes of those posts about why they’re used in the first place (and also because I’m trying to articulate my own thoughts about them! I’m still a baby designer trying to figure out how all this works).

So real quick, let’s all get on the same page. Games are a voluntary limitation of agency, right? While playing the game, participants agree that certain arbitrary actions are off limits, while other actions are desirable. Which actions are off limits and which are desirable then create a certain experience. Go Fish and Texas Hold ‘em play fundamentally differently, and create a different emotional experience in their players, despite literally using the same components. The only difference is which actions are off limits, and which are desirable. We then play those games because the emotional space that play creates is... well fun. The whole point of rules in games is to put players in a specific emotional space. 

This same idea can then be applied to more complex or thematic games. For example classic board game Clue loosely simulates the experience of being an old school mystery novel detective. It drip feeds you clues, and because the first player to correctly guess whodunit wins, players are encouraged to make their guess before they’ve mathematically “proven” the solution. Winning at Clue, then, requires some deductive reasoning skills, and when everything’s working it makes you feel like the hero in an Agatha Christie novel. That feeling is the goal of Clue’s design.

Okay, sweet, so we all agree that systems when voluntarily engaged with can create certain emotional states in the player - and those systems can be deliberately designed to invoke specific fantasies (this is what folks mean when they say “game design is real” btw!). Now I want to take a look at incentive systems specifically. So far the games I’ve used as examples all have the same, very simple incentive system: do a specific Thing and you win. Even with such a simple system, you can get a lot of mileage. Again, to win at Clue you have to name the murderer before anyone else. That “before anyone else” bit is key here. It encourages the player to be risky - to try and deduce what the other players know. That way they can make a call before anyone else has the chance to gather enough clues to solve the puzzle through process of elimination. That single incentive system contains most of the game’s fantasy. Change how you win a bit, and the game no longer fulfills its fantasy. If multiple players could win, you would no longer have incentive to make a call before you had literally all the information and therefore no deduction would be necessary. 

Now obviously “winning” doesn’t have to be the only incentive, especially as your game gets more complex. Let's take a step out of the tabletop realm for a sec (there are other board games I could use here, but all that’s coming to mind are fucking Nerd Games™ and I want to keep my examples accessible) and take a look at the most recent Legend of Zelda games. Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom have incentive systems a lot closer to your typical TTRPG than something like Clue does. Sure, there’s the main quest to win the game (kill Matthew Mercer), but that’s really difficult to do at the start. And also like... not really the fun part of those games. The fun part is exploring Hyrule. And whether you realized it or not, the Zelda designers bribed you into engaging with the fun part of their game. 

Imagine for a second if Breath of the Wild was missing its Shrines, Korok Seeds and sidequests. Literally the exact same game, same level geometry, same backstory, same enemy placement, just no rewards out in the wild. It would kind of suck yeah? You’d get tired of exploring right away, and just play it like an action game. Even if you added back in the parts of the game most of us consider fun (Shrines, Korok puzzles, actual content to find out in the wild) but withheld the rewards which make Link stronger (loot, Spirit Orbs, Korok seeds, etc), only completionists would bother doing any of that. The rewards are what lured us into the fun part of the game - without the rewards the game would have been less fun. Not only that, but it would have lost its core fantasy. It would have stopped being a game about exploring the wild, and turned into a game about killing an evil pig. All you had to change was the incentive system.

I think you're seeing how this applies to TTRPGs now. The things which make a player character stronger (that is to say, gives them more agency over the gameworld) are the things your players will gun for. A smart designer is going to make sure their incentive system rewards play which guides players to the game’s core fantasy. If your game is about being a badass monster hunter, XP for killing monsters is a fine reward structure. If the game is about making your and your friend’s OCs kiss, then you need a reward structure that incentivizes OC smooching. 

Now some of you are protesting “but my friend’s OC and my OC smooch in D&D sometimes! What gives Lucy?” What you’re doing there is called playing pretend (a fantastic pastime, this is not meant as a knock on playing pretend. I do it all the time actually), but you shouldn’t give D&D or its designers credit for that. YOU AND YOUR FRIEND are responsible for that cool story - not WotC. Take credit for the cool shit you and your friends make, don’t give it to some corporation. 

Idfk how to end this uhhhh.... Game design is really cool, and it can incentivize real neat stories when properly utilized. If you’re ignoring your game’s designed reward structure, then the cool stories that come out of it are a result of you and your friends being good at telling stories (seriously go give your GM a big ol’ hug if you haven’t already), not the game. If you are the GM and regularly ignore your game’s incentive systems, there are probably other games which better reward the style of play you want. Love yourself more than you love D&D and life is good. Or whatever

[aelloposchrysopterus]

There's that special kind of relationships (romantic, platonic, qpr, familial, take your pick) where everyone on the outside looks at the people involved and says "nerds" (perjorative, affectionate, derogatory, factual, any and everything). And then they just walk on their way.

Then there's the people who are merely acquainted with the people in the relationship. They walk by, think "oh good for them, they're having a bonding moment, it's nice to see they have someone that shares their niche interest". Nothing to see here.

And then there's the people who actually know the people in the relationship, and they are Concerned. Very Concerned. Because the conversation has devolved from "apparently it's legal to make some kinds of explosives" to asking each other if they'd hypothetically be willing to commit crimes without seeming to realize that they'd be committing crimes if they did it. They are debating intervening. They might have some words with some people later just to make sure that nobody is going to actually break any laws.

Meanwhile, the people in the relationship are just having a very intense terminology conversation because someone can't differentiate between rockets and missiles and words matter, especially if it's something that can kill you. They're not actually going to build a weapon, that would be silly and also way too much effort. Their time is precious.

Instead, they're going to go to their lab to play with their handmade explosives and watch the pretty flames as they accidentally break some lab equipment.

[the-hopeless-haze]

He’ll reject my actions, but He will know my heart (Justified Sin Chapter 11)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Warnings: talks of domestic violence, talks of the lost baby, talks of Dave's murder... suicidal ideation, slut-shaming, and derogatory names (not from Bruce obviously; he's my sweet babygirl and would never speak like that... but from a special surprise guest). also idk I love this chapter so much. love to go off about Catholicism like a nerd okay

Taglist: @pop-rocks-and-skittles @yesshewrites1 @deadflowerd @burninggracesandbridges @reggxe-a @ventila98 @grayce427 @leastlikelytoachieve @that-girl-named-alex @yuki235171 @cluelessnitwhit @thebruemanbatwayne @y-napotat @acatwriteshere​

Do not be like Cain, who belonged to the evil one and murdered his brother. And why did he murder him? Because his own actions were evil and his brother’s were righteous.

Sure. But what if it was the opposite? Would Abel have been justified in killing Cain? Cain was evil and needed to be cast out by a righteous man to do God’s work for him. God left the building. It’s just a free-for-all, free will, free lives, no consequences. A cesspool. Gotham. Hit your wife. Kill the mayor. Nothing happens unless a vigilante takes you out.

Who’d be coming for Bruce’s neck in retaliation?

Corrupt. Opaque. Concealed. Never thought he was like one of those men, skeletons in his closet and his real face hidden behind a mask. Becoming what he hates in the name of being what the city “needs”.

He used to fool himself, that he was truly Vengeance and Bruce didn’t exist. But he does. Vengeance killed Dave but Bruce had the personal motivations to drive him to do so. He is both people and they are the same and he only wears the mask to rid himself of his wealth and his identity for the night. To be hidden. To be reckless, ruthless, and restless in his pursuits without people knowing who to tie them to.

It’s not about being a good person. Maybe it never was. It’s about being something bigger than himself, making Gotham habitable. Reducing fear in children’s eyes, children like him. Reducing harm. Not obliterating it. But a reduction.

If he had to harm others to do so… what was he really doing?

It’s not often Bruce seeks solace in the walls and painted glass windows of a church. It’s not ever, actually; the only times he can remember coming here is when his father was alive. Growing up briefly in a dual-religion household led to confusion only exacerbated by their premature deaths. Would a gracious, benevolent God let them be ripped from him, with no consequences for the murderers?

Alfred never saw it his place to educate Bruce on religious matters, so he grew up for better or for worse without much of an influence, though he did spend quite a bit of time in his father’s old study. Bibles were highlighted and annotated, and different theories that were postulated by Thomas. Bruce read through them in an attempt to understand the man he barely knew, but none of it made sense in the end, given what happened to him. What did he do that he deserved to meet that end? He married a Jewish woman. Perhaps he hoarded wealth to a selfish extent. But to die like that?

God had left Gotham. And Bruce feels like a shitty replacement. Just a man. Not a hero. Just a boy who had to sing this song of death and misery and revenge.

Bruce knew even less about his mother’s religion; she adapted more to Catholicism than Thomas was willing to concede to Judaism, although he vaguely remembers a menorah lit their last holiday season all alive. Her, though, she’d done even less to deserve it. Always giving, always kind, always in pain. Life was agony and never healing from trauma and mental illness and then it was over. Her identity was erased in death and one with the man she was married to.

Did it have to be that way? Why reduce a life to its negatives? Every news anchor seems to lament the deaths of the innocent and never focuses on the lives they had before it was taken.

They would do the same to Dave, not knowing that maybe, just maybe, he deserved the end he got. A sadistic motherfucker killed instead of enacting the killing. Turn it all on its head. Make a righteous man evil to make sure this evil man ceased breathing.

The church is quiet and reeks of incense, the woody smell piercing his nostrils as he walks in.

He half-expects the cross to fall off the wall at his presence.

Hail Mary. Full of Grace. Ave Maria. Everyone’s a sinner. Begging for forgiveness at the altar. Symbols for symbols for symbols to the point it doesn’t seem to stand for anything anymore.

Pray for us now. Pray for us at the hour of our death.

A-fucking-men.

He blesses himself with the holy water. The liquid doesn’t burn his flesh, it runneth over, off his skin. He still remembers how to do this, how he did it at his parents’ funeral. Right hand to god to the forehead. Bless the mind. In Nomine Patris. To the chest. Cleanse the heart. Et Filii. Left shoulder, the devil’s shoulder, brush him off but his influence still lingers. Et Spiritus. Right shoulder. One with God and Jesus now, but it doesn’t feel like it. Sancti. Nothing felt sanctified or holy when he did this decades ago. There’s no sanctity here now, either.

Nothing changes. Everything stays the same.

Hands come together now in prayer. A-fucking-men.

Pray for what? No one was listening.

But he came here to be heard.

He walks through the church, velvet carpeting beneath his feet, so much splendor and wealth here, but God said “make no idols of me” and yet statues and figurines of Jesus in his most vulnerable moments, nailed to the cross, are fixed to the walls.

He would be Risen again soon, in a month or so. Or at least symbolically. They’d have the kids making First Communion enact the Stations of the Cross, they’d sugarcoat it all and make it less violent than the story actually was.

Bruce would feel nothing like he always did and struggle to understand why.

Jesus wasn’t solving any problems. The weight of this city is on Bruce’s shoulders instead. Died for your sins and left the earth for good, checked out.

If Bruce was Jesus, he wouldn’t let himself die. He would stay.

You accused him of having a complex multiple times, especially in the suit, before you knew his identity. You always knew his delusions, though, regardless. Perhaps Jesus wouldn’t debase himself like Bruce did, give into the sins of the flesh, kill for love. But at least Bruce was staying and pushing himself and fighting the battles with the people he pledged to save.

Sacrilegious. Better than Jesus. Certainly not. That narcissism alone would earn him a spot right at Satan’s feet.

But maybe it wasn’t narcissism. It was a duty. A calling. To be better than Jesus? To do good even at the expense of doing evil to get there. Damning his own soul to save the pure.

The incense alone was going to give him a headache, never mind the thoughts racing through his mind.

Taking a deep breath, he walks behind the curtain.

“Vengeance. What do you have to say about it?” Bruce asks, sitting down in the confessional booth.

“‘Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,' says the Lord,” the priest quotes.

“Sure,” Bruce responds. “Sure. But he’s not avenging Gotham. Where’s his wrath when he we need it?”

Unless he is an agent for God and free will is an illusion and to rid the earth of Dave’s influence, to make a good man kill in his will, he had to learn to love first. Bruce. Batman. Vengeance. Acting out His wrath, doling it out so He doesn’t have to.

“Mm. Maybe it doesn’t appear to be as if he’s doing anything to you. But God works in mysterious ways. What have you done, child, that you believe requires forgiveness?”

“I hurt somebody because they hurt somebody I love,” he says simply, his sweaty hand burning a hole on his knee. He talks like he was explaining his actions to a child, mind-numbingly plain and vague.

“So you enacted revenge.”

“Yes.”

“What did you do, exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he mutters. “I hurt them.”

“Hm. I can’t quite absolve of your sins if I don’t know what they are.”

“That’s what you do? Absolve me?”

“Are you sorry for the sins you’ve committed against another?”

Bruce hesitates for a moment, then says, “I wish it hadn’t come to that. But no. It was premeditated. It had to happen.”

"Sorrow is half the battle, my child."

"So I'm damned," Bruce says, letting out a mirthless chuckle.

"Why don't you tell me what you've done? It weighs on you heavily. I can sense it," the priest says.

"It was a crime."

"The state is not higher than God. Whatever you tell me... I cannot repeat to the authorities. It stays between you, myself, and God."

"Oh, well, that's bullshit," he mutters, leaning back against the wall. "Someone comes in here and tells you they hit their wife. What are you going to do? Send them on their way? Not tell the police? Anybody?"

"I pray."

"Lot of good that does."

"You have a lot of anger in your heart-"

"What you're telling me is bullshit."

"Did you hit your wife?"

"No," Bruce growls, ice running through his veins. "No. I would never fucking do that. I killed a man who did."

Again. No crosses fall from the walls. God was inactive and so were his perpetrators.

"Mm... my child. Vengeance has no place in our hearts," the priest says. "And you're not sorry for this?"

"No. But you can't fucking tell anybody, right?"

"No. I can't. I am bound by my sacraments. God already knows and he is the highest authority."

"God watched that man hit his wife day in and day out. Watched him push her, break her wrists, and give her black eyes. Watched him yell at her, scream at her. Watched him hold money over her head so she couldn't leave. Watched him take the baby out of her womb with a fucking coat hanger," he seethes, heart pounding. "He did nothing. No divine intervention."

"God granted us free will. He will atone for his sins in his death, as will you, unless you atone for them now."

"I'll never be sorry," Bruce snarls. "It wasn't something I wanted to do. It was something I needed to do. I took no joy in it. But it was necessary to buy her freedom."

"Do you think you can find it in yourself to want to do better?"

"Of course. I want to do better. I never... I never want that feeling again. That's why I'm here."

"Maybe in time, you will come to see the errors of your ways."

"I killed a bad man."

"You killed a man," the priest corrects.

"I think I'm... I think I'm done here," Bruce says, shaking his head. "I... I don't think I'm going to get anything out of this."

"Go to the altar. Pray the rosary at least one time. And please return when you are ready to feel sorrow."

Wordlessly, Bruce exits the booth, taking a rosary at the exit. Unsure why he does it, he steps up to the altar, the garish lights shining down nearly blinding him. He takes the rosary, blesses himself again. The sign of the cross. He needs the prayer book to remember them, I believe in God, the Father almighty ... lies. Bruce doesn't believe in anything but himself. And you.

Our Father. forgive the one who trespasses against you, for he is the one who’d risk eternal damnation for you, with you, even without you. Bruce's own words, twisting the sanctity of the prayer, making it fit his own crimes. Hail Mary, full of grace. Ave Maria. He feels nothing. Ave Maria. He feels nothing. Ave Maria.

A-fucking-men.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

“My husband, Dave Matteson, has been missing for over a month.”

Now, Bruce is sitting at the press conference, as far in the back as he could get. Stark contrast to the church he was in days earlier. It’s a sign of solidarity to you, and maybe he’s paying his respects to the dead here, too. It’s only fair, since he’s the reason you’re here at all, giving a eulogy to a man who beat the shit out of you for years. Being exorbitantly wealthy and well-known got him access to everything without any real questions, and sitting in this seat amongst journalists and politicians alike makes him feel beyond cheap.

You’re solemn and respectful, playing this role well like you played all of your roles for this man prior. Black knee-length dress, minimal makeup, gloved hands, you seem to be going for a Jackie O vibe. Fitting you should channel her now.

“I was in the hospital when I received the news he was missing after a brief illness. I wish I knew what had happened to him within those hours, but I was very ill. I just wish… I wish he reached out to me. It’s been weeks and I haven’t heard a word. I… I… this isn’t like him. I feel as though we should fear the worst. If he was out there, breathing, I feel as though I would feel him… and I… I don’t feel anything, anymore,” you say, wiping tears with your tissue. Your father is behind you, and he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly. It’s the first time Bruce has seen him, and he looks as harrowed and shaken as you do, if not more so. The familial resemblance is clear, here, not just in looks but somewhat in the way you hold yourself as well. He wonders vaguely how much he inherited from Alfred himself, how much isn’t inherited but learned.

“While I still have hope he might return and the case is far from closed,” you continue, swallowing thickly, “I do support the change in the office of mayorship to Don Mitchell Jr. While my husband’s shoes are not easy to fill, I feel as though Mr. Mitchell will do his utmost in the interim. Gotham is in good hands. Thank you.”

You step away from the podium and hug your father, tears streaming down your face as the cameras flash away. The paparazzi were definitely getting their money’s worth for the show you were putting on today.

Not that it was a show, entirely. You are grieving. Just not for the reasons they thought.

The “interim” mayor you introduced gets up to the podium next and speaks, but Bruce tunes him out. Just another run-of-the-mill, corrupt candidate. One out of a million.

Instead, he watches you.

You still didn’t look quite like yourself, but then again, maybe he never knew you, never knew who you were when you weren’t in constant fight or flight mode. He wonders if you told your father everything, or what you decided to tell him instead of the truth. He wonders if your father knows about your entanglement with himself.

The conference ends, and Bruce knows he shouldn’t linger and that you don’t want him here, but he can’t help but stay. For the refreshments, he rationalizes to himself, but there wasn’t alcohol here in the middle of the day and he knows he’s only staying to watch. Steady on the outskirts of your life.

So, he gets a cup of water and stands next to the wall, becoming one with it, ignoring questions and comments and keeping a stoic expression whenever the cameras flashed in his face. The paparazzi gave him a hard time getting in here. Maybe it’d be best to leave last.

You’re a couple feet away, now, separated from your father, receiving condolences from others with teary eyes. But then… Carmine Falcone comes up next to you and Bruce is on high alert. Ever since this man showed up bloody on his father’s doorstep, he didn’t like him. From what little he knew, he had ties to your husband as well. Whatever he had to say couldn’t be pleasant.

Crossing the room in a few strides, he steps closer to the two of you, hoping not to be seen by either of you. You notice him immediately, eyes widening at first and then setting into a glare. Falcone has his back turned to him, and you don’t say anything to alert him of his presence, so he stays close.

“Nice show you’re putting on, girl,” Falcone says. “Hm? Who taught you how to act so well?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, setting your shoulders back.

“Oh, but I think you do. No point acting with me, sweetheart. Where is he, really? In the floorboards?”

“I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Falcone,” you respond, trying to keep your voice level. “Please allow me to grieve in peace.”

“Grieve? I don’t believe he’s been pronounced dead. You seem to have given up all hope he’ll return though, eh? What did you do to him?”

“I was in the hospital when he went missing,” you mutter, looking down at your heels.

“You know how easy it is to get medical records forged, sweetheart? I could get them like that,” he says, snapping his fingers in front of your eyes, causing you to flinch. Bruce lunges forward but you recover quickly and set your eyes on him again, a piercing gaze that says “let me handle this” without the words. Fair enough. Although he fights against every cell on his body to do so, he grants you this. For now.

“Please. Let me be,” you say, meeting Falcone’s eyes again. “This is hard enough on me as it is.”

“Yeah. The guilt must eat at you, sweetheart. Since you don’t have access to his money yet, I might have a job for you. Pimps are hiring big for pretty whores like you—“

That’s enough. That's e-fucking-nough, Bruce decides. He knows you’ll hate him for it, hate him for causing a scene but he can’t in good faith listen to this man berate you for things he didn’t know fuck all about.

“Is there a problem here?” Bruce interjects, placing a not-so-friendly hand on Falcone’s shoulder.

“Well, look who’s coming to your defense, the prince of Gotham himself, eh?“

“I don’t need the help,” you say, pridefully.

“I don’t know. Big city for a little girl like you. Might need another rich man to pay your way for you or you really will end up a street girl,” Falcone snickers. “We know your father can’t afford your lifestyle, and that little diner won’t cut it.”

“I suggest you go somewhere else,” Bruce says through gritted teeth.

“Really, Bruce, I can handle myself,” you hiss.

“Oh, you two are on first name basis? Maybe Dave was right to be suspicious of you two. I always said, you know, no way poor little recluse Bruce could score you, but maybe you are just a slut for the money, hm?” Falcone sneers.

What Bruce does next he isn’t entirely sure if he’s proud of, but his fingers are tightening around the older man’s shoulder before he can stop himself, and he’s forcing him to walk backwards until his back is against the wall. The crowd dispersed to let them through, but they were quick to follow and hear what was said, tittering and gossiping - “I wonder if he’ll hit him” and “oh, am I glad I showed up today”.

“Hey, hey, easy, boy,” Falcone chuckles. “Remember. Your father wanted me to live.”

“Leave her alone,” he says softly but sternly, staring him down.

Falcone leans against him, his breath reeking of smoke and burnt coffee, and he whispers in his ear, “Yeah? Was her pussy worth it?”

Bruce can’t feel his fingers anymore with the strength at which he’s digging them into Falcone’s suit-clad shoulder. It’s worth it, though, worth putting the fear of god into these assholes. “I’m going to say it one more time. Leave. Her. Alone.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I hear you. I’ll make sure you’re not around the next time,” he laughs.

Letting go, he makes sure to shove him back against the wall a little more forcefully than necessary, and then he pushes past the reporters, the cameras, looking for you, but you were gone, you were nowhere within his line of vision.

Your father comes over to him, putting an arm around his shoulder and walking him over to a corner. “Some scene you caused,” he says after shoving a paparazzi away that followed the two of them.

“Yeah,” Bruce mutters. “I couldn’t listen to the vile shit coming out of his mouth. Just… just tell her I’m sorry. Okay? Can you do that? I’ll see myself out now. Don’t worry.”

“She went out around the back if you want to catch her.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow. “She wants to talk to me?”

“Well, no,” he answers, smiling wryly. “But I think you should try. I… I want to say. Thank you. Thank you for loving my daughter through… all of that. I had no idea things were that bad. I… I loved Dave and it breaks my heart to think my daughter thought I loved him more than her. To think… to think she wouldn’t come to me? All this time… I…”

“She told you?”

“Everything.”

“Everything?” Bruce asks, anxiety running through his veins.

“She didn’t tell me what happened to him, but from the scene you just pulled, I think I can put it together,” he whispers. “Good for you. I would’ve done the same thing if I’d known.”

“I’m going… I’m going to go talk to her now,” Bruce says awkwardly, feeling sick and needing the fresh air regardless. He didn’t know what felt worse, the people justifying it to him or the fact that you still didn’t forgive him for it. So many people complicit in this crime, or in favor of it and yet the person he did it for… left him. And he knows why. He knows. You need the time alone and he should grant it to you and going to talk to you right now is on the list of stupid shit he’s done, for sure, but he does need to apologize at the very least.

Once he’s sure he’s slithered along the wall enough that he’s lost the cameras, he heads out of the building, the frigid February air cooling his skin down some. Walking along the perimeter of the building, he sees you, pacing in your heels, headphones blasting music so loud he could hear it when he got close enough to you.

“Hey,” he says gently, reaching out for your shoulder, a soft, feather light touch. Proof that he is, in fact, capable of restraint.

You startle, and turn to face him, shutting your music off and furrowing your brow at him. “I cannot fucking believe you. You just had to make a scene, didn’t you? Jesus Christ,” you snap. “We aren’t together, Bruce. We aren’t fucking together. And even if we were you can’t… you can’t fucking do that. You can’t. You can’t kill every single person who wrongs me, Bruce. I can’t fucking live like that.”

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t going to kill him, Christ. He shouldn’t be talking to you like that. He wasn’t going to leave you alone—“

“I know him, Bruce, fuck off. I’ve dealt with him the entire fucking time I was married to Dave and let me tell you, he’s the least of everyone’s problems. He’s just a fucking asshole. That’s it. He’s all talk but he’s harmless.”

“I don’t know if I can agree with that.”

“No, right, because every man who talks to me now, this is the shit you’re going to pull? I can’t… how fucking dumb are you? You killed him. You. And you’re making a scene at this fucking thing?”

“Shh.”

“What? You worried fucking Falcone will hear you through the walls? Jesus Christ, Bruce. Fuck off. Seriously. I cannot believe you made a fucking scene like that. Now Falcone’s going to go and tell fucking everybody who will listen that I’m fucking Bruce Wayne and—“

“You were. It’s not like he’s fucking lying.”

“Right. Well, maybe I didn’t want everybody to know. Jesus.”

“Why? Are you embarrassed of me? Huh?”

“Shut the fuck up, Bruce, and stop thinking with your dick for two seconds,” you growl, walking closer to him. “Seriously. Fuck you. I was fucking married to the most conservative man in this fucking city and you think it’s a fucking good look for me if the whole fucking city thinks I fucked you while I was married to him, and then he fucking died on top of it? Jesus fucking Christ. Why don’t I just suck you off in public? Right? Give them another show. Yeah?”

“Listen. Your feelings are justified—“

“That’s the other fucking thing, too, I keep going over in my head, right? Are you going to kill every fucking man who beats their wife? Are you? I fucking don’t think so and I… I can’t handle that. I can’t handle being… I can’t handle being loved that much. Fuck. I can’t. It’s… it’s too much,” you say, backing away from him.

“But I do. I do love you that much,” he says quietly, reaching out for your hand. “I’d do it again. I’d die for you—“

“Bruce. Love me less, then. Love me less,” you say, looking up at him pleadingly.

“I can’t,” he whispers, rubbing his thumb over your hand, aching for more contact, aching to reach out and hug you and press you to his chest and breathe in your perfume and kiss you and make you feel good again, press his body into yours, make you remember how you loved him, too.

“I… I can’t. I can’t do this. Fuck. I can’t. I need to… I need to leave Gotham. I thought I could do this, I thought… but I… I… fuck. I can’t do this.”

“You can. And you will. This is your city. His memory shouldn’t drive you out of your home.”

“It’s not him, Bruce, it’s you,” you say, blinking tears out of your eyes. “I told you I needed space and you pull this shit?”

“It’s almost been a month. You haven’t even called me. It’s like you cut me off, like you don’t want anything to do with me,” he says, his voice cracking, breaking like glass shattering on the pavement.

“I told you I needed space, Bruce.”

“Okay,” he says, letting go of your hand, keeping his hand out by his waist. “Okay. I’ll leave.”

Leaving was the last thing he wanted to do. He’s never known what it was like to miss people who are still alive; grieving for the living. It’s a different kind of ache, a gnawing pain every time he reaches for the phone and doesn’t call you, every time he sees articles about you in the newspaper, every time he reminisces about the good times the two of you have had, every time he drives by the diner. Still out there but so unattainable.

“You’re not leaving,” you say, drawing him out of his reverie, and he had stayed, staring at you, at your face in the sun, at the way you changed, at the way you held yourself now, shoulders straight back instead of cowered down.

You aren’t terrified of being alive anymore.

He did the right thing.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I just… I don’t know when I’ll see you again. I’m trying to make this last.”

“Bruce….”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too,” you say, looking up at him, your eyes squinting a little in the sunlight. “I don’t expect you to wait for me to be ready. I don’t.”

“What are you… what are you talking about?”

“I still need more time.”

“Okay. And I said I would be here.”

“I don’t expect you to wait, Bruce.”

“Why? Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because. I’m a mess, Bruce. I… I was inpatient," you say, frazzled. "My therapist committed me. I was… I had a plan. I was going to… never mind. It doesn’t matter what I was going to do. That’s why I didn’t call you. I… I didn’t want you to worry or try to visit me or… whatever. I just got out. Two days ago. And then they dragged me to this shit.”

“I’m glad you got help. But you can always talk to me.”

“But I can’t… I’m still not stable, Bruce.”

“Then… okay. I can wait.”

“But you want a family. You want a wife and kids and I can’t do that. Not now, maybe not ever.”

“I only wanted that with you,” he says gently. “I only wanted that because it was you. I never thought I would get any of these things before I met you.”

“I took them away.”

“You didn’t get rid of the baby. He did.”

“I should have told you. I should have been more careful,” you say, looking down.

Testing out boundaries, he brings his hand to your cheek, brushing hair behind your ear. You raise your head and you don’t push him away, in fact, you lean into his hand. The two of you stay like that for a few moments until Bruce whispers, “You can’t blame yourself for this. Okay? You can’t keep carrying around this guilt. I’m upset just like you are that we didn’t get to know this baby and raise them and love them. But it wasn’t your fault.”

“I knew it wasn’t wasn’t safe. I knew that,” you say, lip trembling. “I knew trying to get out would be hard enough without being pregnant, too.”

“Okay. But you did what you did. It’s over. I forgive you. I was never going to hold it against you,” Bruce tells you.

“Every time I look at you I just… I feel like I killed part of you. What if they looked like you and—“

“Shh. Shh,” he says, cutting you off. Taking his hand from your cheek, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. It’s over. He’s gone.”

“Yeah. But you… to do that, to kill him, to end his life? What goes through your head, Bruce? I just don’t get it.”

“To protect the woman I love and my future family. Maybe it’s selfish. Maybe it’s antithetical to whatever I’m trying to do as Batman. It was because I love you.”

“Right,” you say, pulling away from his embrace. You cross your arms over your chest. “Murder out of love, justified, because you love me more than you hate him? I don’t know.”

“Aren’t you happy he’s gone? Aren’t you happy you don’t have to go home and be afraid of what mood he’ll be in? Aren’t you better off?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. But not at this price.”

“You’re not paying anything.”

“I… I corrupted you. I made you like this, like me. You were so… innocent, before. Pure. And I… I fucked you and made a child with you that I got killed and you killed somebody for me. I damned you to hell with me.”

“Well, we better make the most of this, then,” he says, shrugging. “We’ve got a long eternity of hellfire ahead of us.”

You laugh in spite of yourself, always in favor of dark humor. “Right. Live it up before the eons-long barbecue.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“Do you believe in any of that anyway?” you ask.

“I don’t know. But I’m not basing my decisions on the place I might go after I die. I’m basing my decisions based on the consequences they’ll have on the people and the city I care about. What I know exists.”

“How logical."

"I went to confessional," he admits. "I felt nothing."

You roll your eyes. "Maybe actual therapy?"

"A therapist could report me to the authorities, though," he points out. "But I see your point."

"You don't have to tell them everything, obviously. But I think you should go."

"Okay. Whatever you want. I just... I just want you back. I'm trying so hard not to be pushy about this because I know what you asked for but I miss you and-"

Your lips are on his and your hand is in his hair and you are so close to him and he forgets everything - the words that were going to come out of his mouth, what he was doing here at this building - all mush. He kisses you back, pulling your body closer to his than you already were, relishing in the feel of your mouth on his again, remembering the first time you kissed when you took him by surprise and how you were doing it again and you'd do it again and again.

God be damned.

"You still love me?" he asks quietly, holding on to your healed wrist after you pull away from his mouth.

"Who said I stopped?" you respond. "But fuck. That's why I said I needed space. I can't be around you."

"We can... we can heal from this together. We don't need to be separated."

"I need to live alone, Bruce. I do. We're not starting this cohabited. My dad is taking me to look at apartments tomorrow."

"Can we still... can we still talk, then? Can I call you?" he asks.

"I'll call you. Okay? Just... I still need time."

"Okay."

"I love you, Bruce," you say, and it's the first time he's heard those words in over a month, enough to bring the prickles of tears to his eyes. "You just have to let me do this."

"I killed to let you do this. I'm okay," he says. "I love you, too."

Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law.

[r-tawen]

Rating Thought Experiments by How Annoying They Are

It's finals week and I'm procrastinating because I've decided my sanity outweighs the slavering need to academically perform that's been drilled into me by the education industry over the past two decades. I have no other basis for these ratings other than how much each thought experiment annoys me on a molecular level. All Thought Experiments here listed taken from GCC Libraries website. Here goes:

Trolley Problem - 8/10

Starting off with a Certified Classicᵀᴹ

I think we have bigger problems to deal with, namely that we have someone routinely strapping random people to railway tracks AND that random civilians can just up and reroute entire trains on a whim

Like why the fuck would I ever be in this situation

"you notice a very large individual whom you can push in front of the train in order to stop it" first of all, is this a philosophy major's idea of a fat joke? Second, if you had a guy big enough to bring 130 kmph of screaming metal to a dead halt at the distance pictured, they would be big enough to pick up the train and spare us all this nonsense. Thank you, Waybig from Ben 10 Alien Force

Oh, the individual is a "close relative" now? You think you've got me roped into your ethical dillemma now that it's personal? Fool. Dullard. Wipe that unsexy smirk off your smug little face because I don't love anyone stupid enough to get caught strapped to what is actually a very efficient mode of public transport like that

The Ship of Theseus - 3/10

Actually really fun to consider the little sailors milling about and fixing up the ship

They liked sailing on that boat so much that they lovingly replaced each little bit as it gets worn down over time, whistling sea shanties, making sure the parts fit just right and snug to make her seaworthy again

Doesn't matter if it's the same boat or not, it is their boat and that's all that matters as far as I'm concerned

Only downside is it brings up the weird teleportation thing, which makes all the weird sci-fi nerds (derogatory, as opposed to the good weird sci-fi nerds) come crawling out of the metalwork

As if the philosophy nuts weren't bad enough

Patient Refusing Treatment - 90000/10

Hits a little too close to home bc this shit just happens irl

Brings up the fact that people will straight up choose to die rather than offend their religious teachings

And also that said religious groups will straight up turn their backs on you as soon as you step a toe out of line

So much for loving your neighbor, divine morality, community and all that pretty shit they like to preach

Just try and come at me for this, bitches, I'm a colonized POC in the third world in a pre-dominantly Catholic country and I'm spoiling for a fucking fight

The Drowning Child and the $1000 Suit - 9/10

You honestly think the average asshole who would wear a $1000 suit to the beach has any morals?

He probably sells babies on WallStreet to fund his twice-collapsed crypto startup in Silicon Valley so he can fulfill his dreams of getting a whiff of Elon Musk's scrotal discharge

If this stark white businessbitch with the physical and moral integrity of paper mache gets anywhere near that water, we'd have two drowning children in the ocean

And how dare you compare the dude who can afford to be in a $1000 suit who can take immdeiate action to save someone, to the random middle-aged dad watching Netflix at 4AM without adblockers on? "how are the two examples different?" I'll fucking drown you in a bathtub that's how

COVID Simulator 2019 - 5/10

Vulnerable people and frontline healthcare workers first, easy, next question

The main source of annoyance is having to remember how fucking horrendously this pandemic has been handled in my country

I Can't Say Pleasure Machine With A Clean Mind - 7/10

You could build a machine that can simulate reality one-to-one, but you couldn't figure out a way to bring people out? How did you test this shit to begin with if every volunteer and the machine they're assigned to is permanently fucking unusable to anyone else on the first go?

And I'm supposed to take your "guarantee" that this will make me happy, when there is literally no one who has actually tried it who can attest to that?

If I put you in there, will it simulate a universe where you make sense and people like you?

There's no fucking way this shit isn't going to get hogged by rich old white billionaires who have nothing left to do in life but evade all of their legal problems by becoming legally fucking dead to the world

Colonized Land Problem - 999999999999999999999/0.1

See Patient Refusing Treatment, paragraph 5

Space Taxonomy - 3/10

Like, a couple thousand lesser known sci-fi writers have beaten you to this premise already

There's just nothing in this to be annoyed at, at all, it's such a Nothing dillemma

The meagre 3 it accrued is just because it reminds me of weird vegans (derogatory, as opposed to the good weird vegans) and PETA, but there's just not a lot of substance here to be annoyed by

Social Media Misinformation - 8/10

Yes? Fucking- regulate your platforms??

A 3 year old could answer this, and those little bastards can't even operate heavy machinery

Do you want more anti-vaxxers? TERFs? Neo-nazis? Sons of former dictators being elected as president?

"bUt i hAve thE RIgHt to Be rAciSt and stUpiD-" I will personally feed your unwashed ass into an old-timey woodchipper

The Merchant Vessel - 9/10

????

Are you the most incompetent sailors ever to salt the raging seas?

It's an island- you can find food there, you can find food in the fucking ocean

Wh-

Do you have no other options?

The best thing you could come up with was to eat, sleep, and shit for the duration of an entire trading season off of the rations that washed up on the beach, doing absolutely NOTHING else productive with your time?

Couldn't come up with any brighter ideas? Okay, sure, have fun out there

Immortality Pill - 10/10

Cool. Why is this my problem again?

Are the people in this universe also completely devoid of thought and agency that I have to decide what to do? I already invented the damn thing for fuck's sake

Just... let people decide if they're taking it or not??

In the first place, the premise says they can straight up still be killed- it's not like there's no way out

The only real issue here is Big Pharma kicking my doors in 0.5 milliseconds after I finish my last test and gunning me down before any of my research could ever feel the fresh breeze of outdoors Manila

I will, however, be selling placebos exclusively to billionaires

"Sorry Mr. Bezos, the pills won't take, Idk what to tell you, byyeeeeee"

Pascal's Wager - 12/10

See Colonized Land Problem, paragraph 1

Equim - 6/10

The fuck kind of worldbuilding is this

You named it "Equim"? Is that what you meant to do?

How about we leave them alone, huh, how about that?

If the North Sentinelese decide that part of their culture is killing the fuck out of any foreign culture-destroying missionaries that land on their shores, then who am I tell them they're wrong? (They're not btw)

But then again I can't expect whatever imperialist white fuck who probably came up with this to understand the concept of keeping one's grubby little hands off of someone else's culture

Wittgenstein's Game - 100000/10

See- this right here is why we don't take you people seriously

At least the above entries had flavor to them, but this? Really?

You're just agonizing over a dictionary

Like Jesus H. Fuck, get a real hobby

Or did you spend too much time agonizing over what a "hobby" truly is and now you're 46 and balding and you've forgotten what it feels like to have a conversation with someone?

Enough of this shit. Procrastination over. Might do a part two if something gets me riled up again.

[folkpunkbumbercatch]

Seeing way too many think pieces asserting that Andrew Garfield is the worst spiderman. They're are only two ways you can have this opinion. Either your cishet and/or your a Disney bootlicker. The amazing spiderman movies are probably the closest to the 616 as we've ever and will ever have. People who hate those movies were to distracted by the cg (which I can understand to an extent but at least they were trying something new) to see that it was a comic book movie to its fullest extent. I'd say amazing spiderman is one of the most comic book accurate comic book movie, taking second place only to movies like the losers (2010) and into the spiderverse.

If your going to come out here asserting which comic book movies suck and which rule I hope you are also taking the comics into consideration. Listen im both a comic nerd and a film major (derogatory) I understand that a good film can't be a 1:1 comic because you need to build an arc and characters. But at least they fucking tried something new with the amazing spiderman

[star-six7]

Don’t Stop If I Fall (And Don’t Look Back)

Frank Iero x Gender Neutral!Reader (ending 2 of 4 for Here In This House of Wolves)

Word Count: 2013

A/N: This one’s kinda spooky! Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction. No part of this story is meant to be libel, slander, or in any way derogatory towards any character’s real life counterpart. I’m not delusional; I know that these characters are simply based off of a public persona and may not actually resemble the people behind those personas. Any additional characters that you do not recognize are entirely fictional, unless otherwise stated. And finally, if you got here by Googling yourself, whatever happens next is 100% on you.

You sighed, shifting restlessly from foot to foot, waiting as the guides explained the rules and prepared to unlock the door leading to the walkthrough. Though there was part of you that still doubted the legitimacy of the whole set-up, you were definitely excited to see if it would really measure up to the promises of both the brochure and the hosts. As a self-proclaimed and Way-brother-confirmed horror nerd, you had been through many a haunted house. And while some were bone-chillingly terrifying, others fell more on the Scooby Doo side of frightening. Either way, you knew you wouldn’t be short on entertainment with the way the others were carrying on.

Finally, the hosts led you to the door, with a final warning to keep your wits about you. They opened them to reveal a pitch black hallway, and without warning, shoved everyone forward. Before you could even spare a final glance back, they slammed the doors shut, leaving you in total darkness.

“Oh god,” Ray moaned miserably. “I knew this was a terrible idea.”

You could practically hear Mikey’s growing irritation in the all-consuming nothingness.

“Well, the only way out is through, so,” Gerard said, with the certainty of someone who had seen hundreds of fantasy and adventure movies. “On we go.”

“Yeah, whatever you say, Gerard. Let’s just try and get out of here with all our limbs still attached.” Brian sighed. There was a shuffle of forward-sounding movement, and you tried to keep.

Suspiciously absent from the conversation was Frank.

---

After what seemed like a mile, but you knew rationally couldn’t have been more than a dozen yards, the hallway became a bit narrower with faint, faint, cracks of light low to the ground on either side. Up in front, Ray and Gerard kept bumping into the walls and swearing, though they were sure they were heading straight on. 

Suddenly, you were yanked back by your elbow. Instinctively, you tried to scream, both out of fear and hope that the others would hear and help you, but a warm, calloused hand clamped over your mouth. Whoever it was that had grabbed you began to drag you backwards, much to your horror, and a pit of icy dread began to form in your stomach. Though you kicked your feet in protest, it was no use. You could barely even hear the others anymore. You were on your own.

Desperately, and with the sudden realization that this might not be part of the haunted house any more, you began to bite down on the hand pressed over your mouth, doing anything to get away. Suddenly, you and your abductor stumbled backward through an unseen door into a brightly lit room, and the hands that had restrained you released.

“Holy fucking shit,” an insanely recognizable voice swore. “Are you insane, you could have fucked up my hand-”

Instantly, all the fear in your body evaporated and was replaced with red hot anger. Frank.

“No, are you fucking insane?!” You whirled around on him. “What the hell were you thinking, I thought someone was gonna kill me, or worse-”

Frank rolled his eyes. “You need to calm down, you’ve been hanging around Gee too much. We would’ve found your body eventually.”

You took a moment to relax, close your eyes, and let the remaining terror drain out of your body. When you opened them, you noticed just how small the room you were in was, as well as how close Frank was standing to you. You also noticed that your heart was beating way faster than normal, something you hoped that, if he noticed, he would attribute to the fight-or-flight response of almost being kidnapped, which, by the way, what the actual fuck? 

“Where the hell are we, Frank? And also, why?”

“One of those rooms off that hallway.” 

You remember the faint light you had seen just before Frank grabbed you. “Oh.”

“And… the reason we’re in here is because I thought it would be funny to fuck with them. And I thought you’d be down to help me.” You sighed, rubbing your elbow where his hand had been only moments earlier. “And you couldn’t have told me about this before you gave me a heart attack?”

“Well,” You could tell he was trying to justify his reasoning on the spot. “If they thought you were actually being abducted, that would add to the prank.” “Asshole,” you muttered, though you really weren’t mad anymore. “I don’t even think they noticed I was gone.” “Then that makes them the assholes. Which is another reason you should help me. Please?”

You pretended to still be annoyed. It was best to not let Frank know when he had already won you over; otherwise, he would try to get away with everything underneath the sun. You were sure the others were far ahead of you now, and you weren’t too keen on the idea of wandering through the haunted house by yourself. There was also the small matter of being flattered and giddy that Frank chose you to pull this prank with, and deep down, you knew there was no chance you would turn down some time alone with him.

“Fine. I hope you have a really good plan.”

Frank grinned.

---

“So, I think I have it figured out,” he said a few minutes later as he was leading you down the hallway by your hand. You were glad that it was so dark that he couldn’t see how much your cheeks were heating up. “Somehow, they made this hallway sorta curved, but only a little bit, so it totally disorients you. And I think at some point, it opens into a maze?”

He stopped abruptly, and let go of your hand. You tried not to be too disappointed.

“Hey, do you feel that?” You heard some rustling, like he was waving his hands around and shuffling closer to the wall. “It feels like a breeze.”

Before you could respond, you heard his palms land on something solid and heavy, and then suddenly, the hallway was filled with the bright afternoon sunlight. You hurried through the previously hidden door after him, not wanting to be discovered. After your eyes had adjusted to the light, you saw that you were in an open area on the side of the building. The wind rustled through the old pine trees, but there wasn’t another soul around besides you and Frank. Towards the back end of the building, you saw some weathered marble slabs that you had the sinking feeling were tombstones.

“Oh shit, check it out!” Frank laughed, ducking down and running alongside the wall.

You followed him through the knee-high grass and peered through the old window with him. On the other side, though dimly lit, were your bandmates and manager. You could see Gerard closest to the window, trying his best to contain his panic. Ray and Brian were up front, in some sort of passionate discussion about… something. Mikey was in the back, expressionless as usual, but you could tell by the tilt of his shoulders that he was, at best, vaguely uncomfortable.

“Okay,” Frank whispered, turning to you. “On three, okay?”

You nodded, trying to keep from laughing.

“1… 2…3!”

You and Frank sprang up from the ground and slammed your palms on the windows, much to the surprise of everyone inside. You could hear Gerard’s scream through the glass.

“Oh my god,” Frank laughed loudly as he rolled in the grass. “Think they could see us?”

“I don’t think so.” You shook your head. “I don’t remember seeing any when I was in the hallway, though they must have been there. Maybe it’s a one-way mirror.”

“Well, that was funny, but not exactly what I had in mind. How do you feel about a little psychological torture?”

---

Frank’s plan was pretty impressive, you had to admit. For the next few minutes, you waited patiently until the group passed another window. Based on how long it took them, you had a feeling that Frank’s suspicion about the maze was correct. You waited until they were right in front of the glass, and then you sprang into action.

“GUYS! HELP!” You tried your best to sound as terrified as possible, but it was hard with Frank grinning up at you. It should be illegal for someone to look that good while cackling.

Apparently, your “distress” call stunned them into silence.

“Oh my god,” Mikey whispered, and though it was muffled through the glass, you could tell he was serious. Next to him, Gerard had gone as white as a sheet.

“Where are you? Tell us where you are, we’ll come find you!” Ray called back.

“HELP!” You screamed again.

You could hear Brian and Ray start mumbling and cursing again as the group pushed forward, this time with urgency. 

“Oh, god,” you laughed, flopping back onto the grass next to Frank. “That was an excellent idea, oh my god.”

“Yeah, they-”

“I hate to interrupt,” a cold, cutting voice spoke from somewhere above your heads, “but I believe that we were very clear in our introduction that there was only one acceptable entrance and one acceptable exit. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

You and Frank glanced at each other with wide eyes before staring up into the unamused face of one of the hosts from the lobby.

---

“We regret that you couldn’t see more of the tour, and ask that you please refrain from returning. Thank you!” The man turned and walked away from the van. He had followed you and Frankie the entire way back, just to ensure you got the message.

“He did not sound regretful at all,” Frank frowned as he shook the door handle on the van. “Success!” he smiled as it popped open.

You followed him as he climbed into the second row of seats. “That’s the last time I go along with one of your ideas,” you moaned, leaning into his shoulder. “That was humiliating.”

“Hey, you get used to being escorted out after the 50th time,” he smiled, resting his head on top of yours. “I am glad you came with me, though. It’s fun having someone to do that kind of stuff with though.”

You smiled, just enjoying the closeness for a few more moments, before putting it all on the line. “It was fun and all, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have another reason for going.”

“Hm?”

You moved back and turned to face him. “I really like you, Frankie. I know that might be a lot to handle right now, especially with the album coming up, but-��

You were cut off by the sudden realization that Frank was kissing you. It took your mind a few seconds to catch up with your body, but once it did, you jad no intention of stopping.

When you both broke away for air, Frank leaned in to press his forehead to yours. “I like you a lot too, if it wasn’t already obvious. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

You laughed, and tilted your face up to continue what you had started. Unfortunately, before you were able to get too far, the doors of the van swung open. You and Frank scrambled to opposite sides of the seats as the rest of the band climbed in. They did not look happy.

“Where were you guys?” Ray was fuming, a rare sight to see. “We turned around and you were gone!” “Yeah,” Gerard cut in. “You had no idea how scared we were; we kept hearing you screaming and we thought you were hurt!”

“I hope you guys are happy with yourselves because you’ll be the ones cleaning the van at the end of the tour,” Brain muttered, rolling his eyes, much to Frank’s protests.

“I gotta know, though,” Mikey said, leaning over the seat to talk to you. “What the hell were you guys actually doing?” You caught Frank’s eye and smiled. “Let’s just say it’s a long story.”

A/N: Thanks for reading :) The other endings will be up soon!

[ia-bi-tia]

SO your socialist Vesuvia post yesterday really brought out the secret architecture/interior design nerd in me. So apparently Socialist countries took the New Brutlism movement and ran with it.

Yes! They saw that Le Corbusier fucks and said hell yeah!

now this is a bit unrelated but you gave me a platform to talk about this so I will

I love the building bc even though some may argue it’s very cold and raw, I’d say the big apartment complexes have a lot of potential for community! I had a few projects planned before covid hit using these buildings as community sights, as well as using the architecture surrounding us in a sort of solarpunk way and using all of it’s advantages!

Also a thing that warmed my heart was when a hew days ago I was washing the dishes and found a pan made in a now non-existent factory which is in my family for over 40 years! To know that before all this (derogatory) we had out own factories and people had work, is really cool and incredibly depressing.

this wordvomit was brought to you by: me just waking up <3

[gukptune]

— if only, he wasn’t so perfect, (m.)

Pairing: multiple, jimin x reader

Genre: friends to lovers

Warnings: multiple lovers, breaking people’s heart, dom/sub tones, public sex, loads of cum, fingering, slight cullinggus, choking, unprotected sex, quickies, anal play, butt fucking, voyeurism?, people might hear ops, and etc.

Summary: if only he wasn’t so perfect, if only he wasn’t your past, if only he wasn’t so into you.

Words: 8.4k+ (shit)

Note: hi, i’m back with more smut this time hopefully it’s great. I couldn’t shake this idea out of my head so I wrote about it! You’ll understand the prompt as you read! Enjoy and tell me what you think!

Parties, they happened often and they’re well known, but the most exciting parties were those hosted by the resident baddies of the school. To get invited wasn’t exactly hard, be somewhat of their acquaintance and then you’re pretty much in, by that you just know where they live and are able to attend.

And if you weren’t exactly a visible acquaintance you’d have their little ‘group’ eye you like you’re some alien with a disease. But hey, getting stared at isn’t always bad if they were the hotties of the University, the bad hotties.

You had always been invited, specifically by an eccentric loud mouth himself. So here you were, doing nothing exciting but standing in their condo’s hallway listening to some people you didn’t know mingle—mainly because your closest friends didn’t fit in this kind of crowd, the rebellious troublemakers. And the few girls you knew were trying their best to get the main boys’ attention.

Let’s just say, in your University kids crowded together based on their interests and majors, you somehow managed to find yourself intertwined with a few different groups—some being due to your highschool life and the current due to your chosen course, you could say it was a rather nerdy course. 

Similar enough to your childhood best friend to still have you guys kicking it, though he was definitely not kicking it at this kind of party, Kim Seokjin would rather be dead than seen at a punk’s party.

You weren’t so up-kept about your reputation or well lack there of, the few ‘nerds’ or ‘preps’ of your crowd that attended came for the free drinks, relatively okay music and well maybe a good fuck if they’re get it out of the six main punks who casually sprawled themselves all over their living room, getting high as kites or well drunk as fuck.

It wasn’t exactly a conversational party, like those fancy rich people ones that Seokjin would drag you to, neither were they all hype and that like those frat parties on the tv, everyone was still enjoying their time but they were all baked, most of the time. Saying stupid things whilst tramping over the non-baked, yet it was fun watching people make complete fools of themselves.

Though, these boys weren’t always lacking in entertainment in terms of their excitement level in parties, just so happened that today the party just so happened to be right after this crowd’s end of semester exam, you were just lucky yours were weeks ago and didn’t have to suffer in silence as these sad ones brewed in their realisation that they could fail. 

Not that categorising people like that was typical for you to do, but you know the type of people that hung around these guys on a school night, those that cared little for actual school, but well more for the parties, the sex, or well they care about forcing themselves through a course their parents forced them to take. That’s only some though… well maybe most.

Yet, you felt a burning sensation on the side of your face as one of your dearest friends, Kim Jennie nearly falls all over you. You caught her with a roll of your eyes wondering how miss glamorous managed to fuck herself up so quickly.

In the circle of couches and huddle of best buds were the boys many spoke of, the baddest boys of campus consisted of a brainiac, but sulky and quiet, Min Yoongi. An extremely excitable yet intimidating, Jung Hoseok. Another brain that has a lot of brawn, but is relatively awkward talker, Kim Namjoon. A cute and bubbly yet cunning, Park Jimin. An artistic suave that could be considered arrogant, Kim Taehyung and lastly, a broody and still sort of nerdy Jeon Jungkook. 

These boys were the few that sparked the many crushes from girls all over campus. You can’t deny really, especially when one of them took your virginity in high school—whats better is that you also took his.

“Jung Hoseok! You’re spilling the vodka everywhere!” Taehyung groans, trying to push himself away from the overly drink hyung who didn’t give a crap of what he said and continued overfilling his cup.

Taehyung tries to brush off the drops of pungent alcohol off his trousers before his eyes glanced up to lay on a girl he hadn’t seen in the longest time, “Hey, isn’t that, y/n?”

With a quick turn of heads after hearing the name, the ones still consciously themselves tilted their heads around trying to get a good look of the girl Taehyung asked of, through the crowd of people weaving around the tiny stretch of a hallway, Namjoon answered, “Yep.”

“She looks like that now?” Taehyung’s face fills with awe, his eyebrows nearly lifting off his head.

Namjoon just shrugs as he responds, “Yeah? You haven’t seen her? She’s looked like that since the year began.”

Of course Namjoon, the smarter of the group would’ve seen you around having study in the same building. Taehyung couldn’t seemingly believe it, shaking his head as he whistles, “She looks fucking good.”

Jeon Jungkook didn’t seem to take what Taehyung said as a compliment, frowning at what sounded like Taehyung was speaking of you in a derogatory way. Jimin on the other hand couldn’t keep his eye off of you, even so that the other boys noticed and teased him.

“Jimin, nows a good time, she hasn’t come to our parties in ages and what if she doesn’t come again. Go—get it in,” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows as he tries his best to convince Jimin.

Who shakes his head quickly and dismisses the idea, “No, no, I can’t—you guys know how she makes me feel. If she even looks at me I’ll fucking pass out.”

Namjoon quipped his eyebrow as he cocks his head taking a drink, “You won’t. And who knows, you’re only doubting the possibility of being with her because you’ve never tried.”

“But—”

“And she’s not exactly a mean bitch, if she does say no, she’ll say it in a really nice way,” Taehyung pats Jimin on the back, “Hell, she might even give you a little kiss on the cheek for participation.”

Jimin groans at the thought of your rejection. Though, the black hole in the room went unnoticed as Jungkook, the epitome of black, rubs his face as if he was in pain, his feet tapping the floor impatiently.

“Alright,” Jimin makes up his mind, taking a quick shot before he stands up, “I’ll do it, what have I got to lose right?”

“A lot, actually,” Namjoon murmurs.

Immediately, Taehyung jumps up with a bright smile on his face, slinging his arm over Jimin hyping him up. “Yea! Alright, just go over there and don’t swallow your tongue yea?”

Taehyung also bends down to pick up a cup filled with a drink of sorts, “Maybe give her a drink to break the ice. You got it.”

As he pushes the blonde boy towards you, Taehyung drops back in his seat with a proud grin on his face. Turning to his side as Jimin strolls over towards you, Taehyung finally notices the brooding boy who had thrown his bucket hat over his face. He whips at it knocking the hat over as he watches the look on Jungkook’s face, “Sheesh, don’t look so fucking sad, you never know, she might actually say no.”

As Jungkook’s body physically rested from the words of reassurance Taehyung gave him. It was true, you might say no to Jimin’s advances but then again it was Park Jimin.

Before Jungkook had time to think of all the possibilities of your rejection for Jimin, across the room where Jimin had disappeared into the crowd was something that tore his whole world down.

You were enjoying yourself very much. The night was young, the company was good—but most importantly were the boys you could clearly see eyeing you down.

Surprising you mostly was a particular boy coming up to you with a drink in his hand, he was swiftly and confidently strutting through the crowd with only one goal—you.

You were talking to your friends before he made himself noticeable, your friends immediately dispersing with knowing grins on their faces. You hadn’t expected him to actually come up to you, neither did you expect the person to be Park Jimin.

Here he was, standing in front of you. Grinning ear to ear with a drink in his hand as he doesn’t do much after that. You raised your eyebrow at him whilst you nonchalantly leaned back against the wall, allowing your hips to jut forward.

“Hey,” He finally spoke, his eyes continuously not leaving yours, telling you that he came here with a mission.

You weren’t hating his company, but you did hate the eyes burning into you from afar. Whether or not this would make it worse you pegged to flirt with him, “Hey, Jimin.”

Your hand coming up to brush against the collar of his jacket, pulling at it and flattening it against his hard chest. He takes a deep breath as if to calm himself and for a second looking back at the boys before he continues, “This is for you.”

He pushes the cup in his hand towards you, immediately you took it, taking a sniff you knew you didn’t like it. Definitely smelled like something Kim Taehyung would chug all night.

“I’m okay actually, you drink it,” You placed the cup rim against his luscious lips, truly you only did this hoping the seriously intoxicated drink would calm him down.

Park Jimin isn’t a very good liar, nor is he good at keeping secrets. His body clearly showed he was uneasy, nervous, didn’t know what to say, though you knew he wanted something at least.

Jimin’s eyes enlarged as he asked if you were sure he should drink it, of which you nodded, tipping the drink past his lips. From a far this would look very, sensual, you were pouring a drink into his mouth with your eyes narrowed seductively. Your body pushing itself off the wall to better support him, your hip now anchoring his. His eyes blinked through the cup trying to read you.

You only gave him a smile as he took the entire cup with one chug. You knew he was a lightweight, he was going to lose it in a matter of seconds.

“Y/n, I really— really want to go out with you,” half drunk Jimin finally spat it out.

You were shocked, surprised, wondering if he was serious or not. Did Taehyung put him up to this because he should have told his friends that good boys like Park Jimin were definitely not your type.

Jimin must’ve read your mind, pushing his fingers up to keep your lips sealed before you could speak, “I know, I’m not your type. I really do like you, and if we could try—it would be great, if you hate it you can just break up with me—”

As his rambling went on and on, your mind didn’t push past the idea he spoke of before hand. Dating cute boy Park Jimin, interesting, you wouldn’t imagine yourself every considering it. Park Jimin, a charismatic, charming, cute boy who’s got a heart of gold—gets relatively clingy, pouty whenever he’s drunk and when he’s man, the boy can truly become something else. How did you notice all of this, mainly from the fact that you’ve always had your eye on the person he clings onto most, someone relatively different from himself.

Here he was, right in front of you, his lips moving but you couldn’t hear the words passing his pink lips.

Surely, you hadn’t thought this through, surely you must’ve been a teeny bit drunk because before he could even pause for a breath from his long speech you couldn’t help yourself, not at all.

With your arms flung over his shoulder, a hand pushing up his nape towards his growing buzzed undercut, pulling him up against your chest with your back arched into him. His own hands reacting to your touch as it clutched onto the small of your back, giving your exposed waist, thanks to your crop top, a tight squeeze with his warm, and slightly damp hand.

He had reacted extremely quickly to the fact that your lips had interrupted him, it didn’t seem to bother him—it seemed to have pleased him as low groans slipped past his lip against your own. God, he tasted like the shitty drink you just made him chug reminding you very much of the boy that gave him the stupid drink.

His dyed blond bangs falling against your forehead with every movement of his lips, sucking and pulling at your own he seemed to have naturally taken the lead surprisingly. 

Maybe you could hear the faint whistling and gawking of his friends. Jimin’s toned body was hot against your touch as a free hand of yours made it’s way downwards to feel at his raising hem. He was even more vocal with a skin to skin contact that you could’ve imagined, you were liking this way too much.

“Ah—y/n, you’re killing me,” Jimin kissed his way down your neck, pushing his nose up against your collar bone as he collected himself from the very heavy makeout you’ve just had together.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, even so looking over at his table of friends and seeing a particular fuming brunette pushing his way out of the room. Of course, he’d freak out. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, seeing Taehyung running after the boy.

The boy who’s ever so often ignored you, never given you the time of day, would literally tell you that you look like a hoe. The boy you knew had the biggest crush on you but acted like a child with a crush he couldn’t accept, the boy now freaking out that his friend had just landed his crush.

The boy who’s name is Jeon Jungkook.

You hadn’t thought much of Jimin’s advances. You two made out that night and well, he was too drunk to continue any further which lead to his friends dragging him home.

Apologies were said on behalf of him which you didn’t really need but was thankful for enough. As they dragged him into their car Jimin wouldn’t stop whining about leaving you, cute but definitely funny.

You merely waved and was told Jimin was going to call you.

It’s been three days and you’ve heard nothing from the boy, his instagram filled with videos of his party filled nights since Friday. He didn’t seem to have a pause button and was a heavy drinker. 

He hadn’t messaged you either, not on the app nor actually on your phone. You knew Taehyung had your number and that he’d likely give it to the boy but nothing.

It could’ve been possible that the boy was only speaking out of his ass, his drunk ass. Never the less you went on with your day at school without a bother. Only to be at lunch with your friends, hearing Jennie rambling on about her recent shitty date.

Jisoo wasn’t even listening and was mainly focused on her phone the entire time, the only person truly giving her the time of day was you. You weren’t doing much at all, just nodding and agreeing whenever she’d ask if you thought she was in the right.

Your mind was elsewhere, that elsewhere had bursted into the cafeteria with his posse. He was dressed in tight black jeans and a light blue sweater, looking as hot as ever. If anyone didn’t consider Park Jimin attractive they were probably blind.

He oozed attractiveness, drawing the attention of all even with his smaller stature than the rest yet he carried himself with a lot of pride which made him ever the more hot.

You were slouched against the seat without a care in the world, occasionally tossing fries into your mouth and sipping on some very good iced tea.

A true contrast to you, his eyes landed on you as he lined up for the food. His infectious smile brightening up his entire face, did you do that? His eyes pretty much disappear into his lids as he waves towards you making you jump, fuck, he did not just—

“Did Jimin just wave at you.” There it was, your angry best friend, he’s here to ruin the day.

You groaned and covered your face with the long sleeves of your shirt as you hear him set his tray down next to Jennie’s empty seat, who proceeds to ramble on about her guy troubles to him.

With your face tucked in your shirt sleeves you couldn’t see anything or rather hear anything as well, only seeing out from the bottom of the table through the peaks of your elbows. 

Until a familiar pair of shoes stepped into view, the shoes were boots and they had black jeans bundled at the top of the shoe, oh no.

You winced, peering up at him slowly. 

Jimin was leaned over with a hand on the back of your seat and another on the table as if he was trying to get a look inside your arms. “Looking for something?”

You immediately shook your head. The spiteful devil himself managed to sneer before you could speak a word, “She’s looking for an excuse.”

Jimin looked rather confused as he looked up at Jin. Turning over to you with a questioning look, of course Jin was trying to make you out to be the villain. He hated Jimin, mainly Jimin’s friends but Jimin was apart of that group.

“I’m sure she’ll come up with something great,” Jimin responds, being as kind as ever, “Can I talk to you?”

Within a flash you jumped off your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder as well as picking up your food tray—dragging Jimin by his arm you ran away from confrontation with Jin about this situation.

You tossed the food and made your way outside with Jimin. His boyish laugh echoing through the hall as you both made your escape without peering eyes. Ending up nowhere special just barely outside of the building with the cool air brushing against your face.

“You wanted to?” You began, removing your hand from his arm and pushing them into your jacket pockets.

Jimin smiled, straightening himself up, “About that night—I really am sorry for not calling you. I’ve been busy—”

“Busy partying?” You interrupted.

Jimin cocks his head with a cute puff, “I—well I guess so but you know them, the guys they’d never let me miss a day of that—”

He explained himself very terribly, the only thing helping him was his very apologetic face. His eyebrows turned upright in the centre and his lips in a permanent pout.

“Jimin, I really don’t mind but honestly a text isn’t that hard especially if you’re the one that said you wanted to date me,” You jabbed, “Unless you were just lying.”

His eyes widened, “I didn’t lie, no no, I really do like you and really want to date you. I’m just—I was very drunk, I remember the amazing kiss but not much else, Taehyung said I needed some liquid courage and—”

“I know, I saw him push you over to me,” You added, beginning to grow bored of the conversation and biting at your nails.

“Let me redo this, can I please take you out...we could go to the movies today if you want,” He asked, his face filled with hope you didn’t want to crush.

Tonight, hmm, you were planning on watching a movie—a particular one no one wanted to go with you for, “Well, I was going to watch Endgame—”

“Great! I want to see it too.”

“Don’t you want to watch it with your friends?” You asked, secretly hoping he’d actually go with you.

Jimin acted as if he was considering it, going the whole way and putting a finger up to his chin, “Hmm, maybe... you’re right—”

You poked him in the stomach knowing he was playing with you. He laughed holding onto his side as he pushes away your tickling finger.

“Okay, okay, but really, you’re more fun than the guys so, I’d rather go with you.” He takes your hand and fumbles with it, lacing his fingers through it.

A damn flirt he was, knowing exactly how to get to your heart.

“Am I more fun to be around or am I more fun to look at?” You sussed.

Jimin grins, pulling your body towards his, “Maybe both?”

He was relatively more confident than he was when he was drunk which was strange since he was always pretty shy. 

“Let’s meet there then,” You suggested, “It’ll be colder tonight I need to get my coat.”

“You can wear mine—”

“I’d rather not have my date die of frost bite,” You teased.

Jimin bites his lip, realising that he’d never win. He opts to listen and nods his head. Pulling out his phone, “Give me your number.”

“I thought Taehyung would give it to you,” You did the same, exchanging phones with each other.

Jimin sighed, “He was suppose to, but he was too drunk to do that.”

Of course he was. Kim Taehyung was a delirious drunk who completely loses his sense of reality. You remembered all of it quite clearly, the damn nights that he’d get so wasted you’d have to force him home. All those times he would come to your house, drunk or high, stumbling into your bedroom right into your bed. The same bed he’d—

“I’ll see you after school.”

The night came faster than you expected. As if time flew within seconds. You were on your way to see him at the movie theatre now, from his text he’d be waiting out front for you with the tickets he already bought for you. He’s slick, you’d never let someone pay fully for a date every but he managed to get there before you.

He was dressed in the same attire as earlier, as you were. Guessing that he came immediately after class alike yourself, his classes only ended earlier whilst yours ended at six which meant you were watching the screening at six thirty. It was currently, six fifteen in the evening. Somehow, the sun had set earlier that it usually does probably because of how cold it was.

“Hey,” Jimin noticed you immediately as you were walking him, untucking his hands from his jacket to embrace you.

You smiled and did the same, his body was warm under the thick coat he had on and you so didn’t want to stop hugging him. The scent of his cologne was deep and penetrating, only noticeable from so close but strong otherwise.

“Do you want snacks?” You asked, knowing that you wanted to pay for it since he paid for the tickets.

He nods with a smile, throwing his arm over your shoulder and tucking you into him. Walking towards the snack booth you scanned the snack choices. As the line grew shorter you were excited for one snack in particular.

You gave the employee a kind smile, “Could I get two drinks and popcorn—that’s okay with you right, and strawberry twizzlers.”

Jimin reluctantly allowed you to pay, only with a huff as he pushed his wallet back into his trousers. You weren’t a big fan of popcorn, only because of the buttery smell that could stick on your clothes after eating it and well you liked chewy snacks you could inhale the entire pack of without feeling bloated after.

With that you both got your snacks and went over to drinks to pick out what you wanted. Finishing up you both made way towards the theatre towards the seats Jimin had picked out, dead centre at the top with a great view of the screen.

You sat down on his left as he made himself comfortable, setting his drink on his right instead of next to you. He pulls up the armrest between the two of you and pulls you into him again, he did like being touchy—you weren’t about to complain you liked affection.

You opted to lean against him, his head constantly nudging against you as the movie begins. You were sort of late for the screening, the movie had been out a while therefore it wasn’t packed at all. You opted to snack on the long gummies as Jimin takes a long sip of his drink.

The comfort of his touch, and the great movie made for good fun, that was until he begins to show a little too much affection. His hand teasingly sliding down your arm right under it, gripping into your side as he tries to touch you under your shirt making you drop your snack.

“Jimin—what are you looking for?” You asked with a teasing tone, his mind was clearly not on the movie, rather he wasn’t even looking at the movie. When you looked towards him, his eyes were already on you.

Jimin was blatantly, upfront, “Your tits.”

Your eyes widened at that, he surely had no filter. You started feeling quite...turned on by his very dominant energy. You’d consider yourself into guys who were relatively switchable in bed but, he was surely a cutie who’s seemingly dangerous in bed—you weren’t so used to it, doms were in your past, one dom in particular made you a pretty bratty sub who loves teasing and playing with her partner.

You took a quick look around to see the nearest people around were near the end of the row and some were a few rows ahead. Unlikely that anyone would see what you two would do in the dark, especially if they’re watching a marvel film.

You reached for Jimin’s preying hand wrapped around your back and poking at the side of your left boob. You guided his little hands down towards the hem of your tight top under your jacket, getting him inside the shirt and over your bra. The heat from his hand already sending a wave of warmth towards your centre. He immediately beings groping at it, biting his lip as he looks into your eyes innocently as his hand did dirty things before you.

He boldly pushes the cup of your bra down, flicking his palm purposely over your hardened nipple—from the cold weather and his touch. From your close proximity you could hear him hum with satisfaction at the sheer size of your tit in his palm, he rolled your nipples between his ringed fingers as his lips breathed hot air down your nape.

“You’re shaking a little, baby,” He chuckled, the bellow of his tone vibrating against his throat allowing you to feel it against your neck. He was so close and fuck, you just wanted so much more.

With a bit more boldness from you, things got even more heated. Forcefully, taking his other hand your put it against your exposed thigh, he cocks his head looking down at your thigh. Your short tight skirt now riding up higher, he slides his hand down over your knees to snap the elastic of your socks against the back of you knees causing you to jump from the act, shit he was really going for it.

He bites your shoulder through your top as he makes his way up back to your thigh—towards the inner moistened thigh that you finally uncrossed, basically telling him that you’ve been rubbing your thighs together for some sort of release since he got his fingers on you.

“Already fucking wet, I want to take you in here so bad, fuck.” He was a freak, you’ve known—he looked like he was into fun things. He practically growled making you legs try to close but his hands were right there not allowing that to happen. His fingers scraping at your drenched underwear, his nails ever so often coming into contact with your clit making you shake.

You moaned when he began to push against your opening, “Where did shy Jimin go? Fuck—do it, take me right here.”

He seemed pleased with this, letting out a low growl as his fingers dipped through the side of your underwear pushing it aside for his fingers to enter with such ease.

You furrowed your eyebrows, biting your lips to keep yourself quiet. Your back automatically arching and your butt pushing up against him. From this position there wasn’t much he could give, you were pushed sideways against him. Your tailbone right against his hip. 

You were about to do something you never imagined doing, but your high was far. The quiet sounds of your cunt squelching as he tries his best to angle his two fingers inside you, his hot hands kneading your tit with such skill—your nipples as hard as it could be with his fingers pulling and teasing it. Since the armrest was already down, it made things much easier for you.

You got up, his fingers falling out of you and your top. His face stitched with confusion in his cute little pout. You were so over the movie, even if you wanted to see it so bad—fuck—with Park Jimin looking like this right in front of you, you had to take him, right here, right now.

Just look at him, his blond hair pushed over his forehead, his jacket falling off his shoulders and his thighs—his thick thighs just sprawled out carelessly over the red soft seats.

“Y/n? What are you—”

You shushed him with a finger on his lips as you leaned in, pretending to do something that wasn’t what you were actually doing. You had a longer jacket on, it fell over your bottom so you weren’t worried the lights from the screen would show anyone anything.

You pulled your skirt over your hips, as unattractive as it looked on you Jimin’s eyes dropped from your own towards your panties—your thong that you wore because your bottom was a little too large to wear normal underwear with without the lines showing were visible to his eyes and his eyes only. He bites his lips with anticipation, understanding now what you were doing as his adam’s apple bopped telling you he wanted it as bad.

His eyes darkened and distracted right where you wanted, you reached for the hemline of your panties and pulled them down. His hands coming up to hold onto your hips immediately pulling you closer to him. From any other view it looked just like you were fixing your skirt, very close to your date that is.

His lips made contact with the front of your pussy, he ducked to let his tongue taste you. You whimpered out, surprising yourself as Jimin grinned against you continuing to suck on the little area he had to reach for your clit. His fingers slowly opening up your folds to lick at your wetness. He pulls away with a cocky expression.

“Baby, you want to sit here?” He pats his thigh, raising an eyebrow at his suggestion.

You nodded, leaning over to rest a hand on his shoulder, “Fuck yes, I want to ride that dick so bad.”

He lets out a strangled breath, immediately popping off his belt buckle and pushing his pants down, allowing the little light coming from the screen to illuminate his erection, a hard—dripping cock that flung out of his underwear and stood straight against his stomach. He lets out a breath of relief now that his cock wasn’t restrained inside his tight trousers anymore.

“How—how do you want it?”

You answered by getting on him, leaving him breathless as you took charge and sat yourself on his thighs. Your back facing his front to blend in, his hands immediately held onto your hips as you rolled them against him.

His dick sliding back and forth against your folds with ease from your arousal and his precum, with how horny you both were, things were going to be very easy.

With a swift lift of your hips as he was helping guide you, his cock slips right inside. The thick head stretching you out to the point of a teeny sting, fuck, you loved it when a cock was so thick it would hurt like he was ripping you. By all means, he wasn’t big as you were used to but hell, he’s got girth many would die for. The sheer thickness was making you whimper like a little puppy, choking on your own breath, Jimin slides his hand up brushing against your tits to calm you.

“Hmm, that’s it, fuck you’re tight,” He murmurs, his lips sliding up and down your exposed neck before he begins to suck on it, flattening his tongue against your neck you could just imagine what his tongue could do elsewhere.

Your body was moving with it’s own idea, completely taking him fully, he’s bottomed out all the way inside of you—feeling your clenching walls squeezing his cock to it’s brim.

Jimin’s hands had gotten all the way up your neck, now his fingers encased them as he began to tighten his grip on it. Fuck, he’s into choking too.

Your lips fell open as inescapable moans and cries left them, you’ve lost all control now as Jimin begins pounding into you from below. The sounds of your wet pussy and his cock slapping against your bottom and his thighs. The sticky yet so erotic sound, you could feel the thick hot cum that was stringing between you both were just dripping now. 

“Ah, Jimin, you’re so good—holy fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Your high pitched whine made you come undone. Not giving him a chance at all, the boy also let out a loud moan, it sounded so good, so deep and hot just like his cock inside you right now.

Your pulsing cunt was squeezing the life out of him, you could feel his cum spewing out all over your wall—he stops when his cock has hit the hilt holding himself inside feeling your orgasm rip through you. Your body was shaking against him, with his hand held tight on your throat and hip you felt as if your best ever orgasm has just finished.

Fuck, it must’ve been the fact that you were in public and Jimin has just managed to fuck the shit out of you. You could feel his cock twitching inside as he begins to slip out, letting his softened cock fall against his thigh.

“Does this mean you’re my girlfriend now?” His joyful laugh echoed through your ears, as if this date couldn’t get any better.

The days went by with a blink of an eye. Jimin, with his exponentially grown confidence had managed to skill-fully eye you down in University without your friends knowing. His own friends were quite happy with the fact that he had finally asked you out and fucked the shit out of you nearly everyday—of which you hoped he never explicitly given any fine details to his friends.

But of course you’d get a strange feeling whenever a certain brunette would sit near you in class with a brooding expression—as if he hated you. Jimin had mentioned how the younger boy had stopped talking to him ever so often and would only mumble one word answers to him.

You told him not to worry, you didn’t want to explain that Jungkook had a problem with it. You only lied saying that he probably had some girl issues he had to deal with—which wasn’t a complete lie, you just left out the fact that the girl involved in his issue was you.

You remembered the day you met him, first day of University you ran right into the unsuspecting boy which lead to him cursing you out before taking a better look. He was attractive of course, Jeon Jungkook was ripped—a sports student who cared a lot about keeping himself healthy and fit. He dressed well, always comfy with his oversized expensive clothes.

Over the months he’d constantly give you a funny look, you didn’t know what that meant, either he absolutely hates you or really likes you—you found out it was the latter at a halloween party that he dressed as deadpool, drunk and high as fuck drowning you with compliments on your own costume.

Taehyung looked from afar with a knowing glance, you has assumed that night that Taehyung was yet again proud of his bestfriend who managed to get his ass over to the girl he liked.

Then came this year, you tried, you really did try to talk to him but he wouldn’t budge. The boy would just nod and murmur back responses as if he wasn’t interested. Strangely enough the boy was vocal on text and whenever you’d game, which didn’t happen so often anymore since he’d been so busy with school and life. He’d only ever be so open that time and never again, especially not now when you’ve grown apart.

You felt like he hates you—sneering whenever you’d near him.

Now to the present, you’d barely seen him. You’d really only hang out with your friends as per usual with the slight attention from Jimin at school and his whole attention whenever you’re out of school.

It was nearly Christmas, Jimin loved Christmas—he dressed in reds and greens everyday looking like the god he is in just his Christmas sweaters and pants. He didn’t do anything special, he didn’t have to. 

He knows that if he had dressed in tight pants any day you’d soon rip them off when you’re alone, which lead to him purposely wearing his tight blue ripped jeans nearly every single day.

Tonight was different, very different. You got a message from Taehyung asking if you’d jump on a game with him real quick—he needed some help apparently and said, ‘you’re a nerd right, nerds are smart, help me’. 

You didn’t think Taehyung would be the person to play Monster Hunter World honestly, but here you were, helping him kill a very simple beast. 

“Taehyung, it’s just a Jagras—you’re only at the beginning of the game you idiot!”

He was, very, very bad at the game. You were frustrated, very fucking frustrated. He also refused to allow you to take the kill as he’d told you that you didn’t seen the level or the materials, which was true.

You just wanted to kill the thing so you’d finish this part already.

“It’s a giant ja-jarags—”

“Jagras—it literally says that on the screen.”

“Okay, a Giant Jagras. I’m new okay be nice to your new teammate,” He whined, continuing to try to attack the beast in the strangest matter.

You rolled your eyes as you laid on the bed on your stomach. You had the lights dimmed to a good amount and the main lights were from your PC and glow lights giving the room quite the moody atmosphere. You had your headphones on over your ears and the mic brushing against your cheek as you spoke, Taehyung really needs to invest in some good gear—you could barely hear the stupid guy.

You kicked your feet around behind you as you continued to mindlessly kill the other smaller Jagras around so they wouldn’t kill him, again.

“You sound frustrated,” his voice was low and raspy, drawing a warmth to the pit of your stomach. He kept his voice down so no one could hear from the other side.

You paused for the second to look back at him. How Jimin laid again your headboard with his shirt off from your previous heated make out that was interrupted by Taehyung’s pleas. He hadn’t even bothered to put it back on, only to give you a very nice sight of his ripped stomach and slim waist encased around his tight trousers and belt.

His feet kicks against your bottom as he sees you turn away with a huff. You were trying very hard to not jump on him right now.

“Oh my god! I almost got it!”

“But you didn’t,” you laughed, continuing to revive him.

You could hear Jimin scuffle around behind you, he was so restless. He must’ve been bored, tapping away on his phone as he watched you play with Taehyung. A boy who wasn’t your boyfriend who took away all the attention away from himself. Jimin was sulky, and pouty, constantly groaning and whining trying to fend to your attention which resulted in you telling him to be quiet and take a shower or something.

Jimin did not like not being the centre of attention, especially not being the centre of his girlfriend’s attention.

You paid attention to the animation of Taehyung’s constant deaths and his screams. Grinning ear to ear from how hard he was trying yet he fails at all cost.

Then of course, you felt a strange warmth on the back of your thighs—completely bare from your tiny shorts that probably rode all the way up over your bottom at this point.

You felt a wetness now, a hot, sucking sensation as it grew higher and higher. Then, a weight shifted and dropped over your legs, trapping them in.

“Jimin, could you not right now?” You whisper shouted at him, pointing at the screen.

He didn’t listen of course, what a brat. He sat his pretty ass right on the back of your knees as his fingers lingered at the hem of your shorts, “Aren’t these so unnecessary? They cover nothing babe, I can see your entire ass.”

His fingers teasing at the fold of your bare ass as he pulls the shorts over your ass roughly, allowing the crotch of the pants to rub against your clit causing your breath to hitch.

You immediately turned off your mic for a second, “Stop it. Tae can hear us.”

“Tae? Tae, you’re using nicknames now?” Jimin’s eyebrows cocked, his voice laced with jealousy, “You don’t even give me nicknames.”

His hands begin to grasp at your ass cheeks, squeezing them and rolling them out like dough. He used all his weight to keep you down, his frame slowly falling over your own as you felt him starting to grind against your ass with his hard erection.

“You’re such a brat, you call me a brat y/n—I didn’t leave my boyfriend all hard and horny to play a game with his best friend instead.”

God, his sarcastic petty tone was already getting to you. He was so jealous and it was so weirdly hot. He was thrusting with so much power you could feel yourself shifting back and forth, his hands were by your shoulders keeping himself upright. You couldn’t look back, he was trapping you—only allowing you to feel him.

His trapped cock, brushing against your ass—the sheer bulk of his bulge spreading your cheeks apart allowing him to push himself up against your wetting core but mostly your other whole...a particularly sensitive one he’s been begging to explore.

He bends downwards to nudge his head into the crook of your neck, peppering sweet kisses down your neck as you craned them over for him, trying to keep yourself shut as your mic had been back on.

“Tae-Taehyung you need to load up on h-health, gosh,” You tried to distract yourself from Jimin’s hands, but it wasn’t working anymore.

He’d notice your attempt and wasn’t going to lose your attention again. One of his hands left your side and proceeded towards somewhere else.

He dipped his fingers into his mouth as you could hear, before he pushes them into you through your shorts and underwear—causing you to choke on your words.

“Uh, did you slip, y/n?” Taehyung asked.

“Nope, I just thought I saw a spider...”

You could practically hear his smirk, fucking, Jimin was so pleased with himself. He continued to pry your pussy open with his fingers, curling them and stretching your hole out for him. Feeling the wetness, spilling out the sides as he kept digging for more.

His thumb would keep pushing up towards your asshole, running his thumb up and down, “Babe, can I please—fuck, it feels so tight.”

His voice was dark, hungry. You weren’t about to say no, you wanted it too. You liked anal play. Whenever Jimin wasn’t around you’d have fun with yourself too, touching yourself and teasing yourself, you knew that your ass was the epitome of sensitive. It gets you to cum in seconds.

“Will it hurt?” You asked, you’ve never had a man with larger hands than yourself in there, you were sort of worried—scared, but fuck, if anything more excited about how the stretch would feel.

“Huh?” Taehyung said, as he tries to slice at the beast again.

Jimin chuckled quietly as he whispered, “No, you’re in good hands baby.”

Literally, and figuratively. Jimin presses against the rimmed hole, feeling the ridges and just imagining their tightness around his cock, especially knowing you’ve never had anyone else in there. Maybe he did have a slight virgin kink, and anal virgin kink.

His thumb makes its way into you, swallowing hard from the sensation. It feels so good. His thickest finger proceeding to make it’s way into you, stopping at the hilt of his hand. Jimin couldn’t help to wriggle his thumb around feeling around the walls, thank god you had taken a shower before this.

Jimin’s satisfied grumble was enough to make you bite your lip, keeping it down. Yet, through your sealed lips he could probably hear your whimpers and grunts.

“Turn the mic off, fuck, I need to be inside you—you’re going to be so fucking loud.”

He was right, you did exactly what he said. He was also going to loud from the looks and sounds of it, just a finger in he’s already about to cum.

“Will it fit though?” “Babe, we both know I’m not that big.”

At least he was honest, and not arrogant right. You nodded, he liked this position you guessed. He stretched you out with another finger pushing into your asshole. It was so much, yet not enough.

As he finishes prepping your ass for him, he gives you a smack on the ass before pulling everything off your ass. Giving him a full view of your juicy ass, “Hmm, can’t wait to fuck this ass.”

You wondered how many times Jimin had actually done this, he seemed awfully experienced but your trail of thought was immediately cut off as he spreads your ass cheeks out—letting a drip of his saliva drop over your little gaping ass. He pushes his face into you, it wasn’t the first time he was eating you could but fuck, it was the first time he was eating out your ass.

You gripped onto the bedsheets that you could, biting into the fabric as he pushes your body down. Sucking, and licking into you, lubing you up as much as he could. He smacks his lips before popping off his belt and pulling down his pants only enough for his dick to come out.

You couldn’t see it but you wanted to imagine a red hot stinging dick just so hard and ready to rip you open. You hear you spitting some more into his palm before he pumps his cock a few times.

“Alright, deep breath,” He tells you, pushing the head of his thick cock up against your asshole.

You did, taking in a deep breath before it turned into a whole ass fucking scream of pleasure. He didn’t give you even a second to move, holding your hips flush against your bed as he fucks into you without a second thought.

He couldn’t even control himself, your ass was clenching at his every thrust—the base of his cock getting all the tightness it wanted. His balls slapping against your clit as good as it can it.

“I didn’t know—fuck, that jealous sex was this good—” Your words spun into a high pitched moan as he pulls out nearly all the way only fucking you with the head of his cock where he wanted more tension.

He sets his chest down against your shoulders, his bare chest flush against your still clothed top, “I’m only fucking you this hard ‘cuz you’re a fucking brat.”

Dominant Jimin was good, too fucking good—he’d get like this if you didn’t listen to him. He’d push your over his knees and smack your ass unlike it was red and boiling before he’d eat you out. He’d fuck you like he wanted to get himself to cum the fastest, without a care for how you were feeling—which was only a show, he knew you felt good, you liked being fucked hard.

“I should be a brat more often.”

He continued to drill into your asshole even harder like no other had before through the night, no fucking mercy. Taehyung only echoing into your ears asking if you were still there. Taehyung only thought of it was a glitch and nothing more. It was only when Jimin came inside your ass and began to pry out out his cum with his mouth did you realise that Taehyung had invited another into the game.

His gamer tag you knew well, from you dropped fucked out form you stared at the screen blankly. Jungkook had been playing with Taehyung for a while—he’d passed that part of the game and had better gear now. Holy fuck, how long did Jimin fuck you for—it wasn’t even enough, Jimin wanted to torture you, he didn’t even know Jungkook was in the game at this point.

He forced you to continue playing, joining back into the game with questions from Taehyung which you only said you took a while in the bathroom and forgot the mic was off. Jungkook casually speaking around you like you didn’t exist at all, of course with Taehyung trying his best to make you two talk.

He got better, only a few words but you couldn’t even say much without a squeak leaving your lips as Jimin bites and nips into your neck with his cock warmed all up inside your cunt the entire time.

You didn’t know why your head was getting off the idea of Jungkook hearing you cum, seeing you, you even imagined Jungkook in Jimin’s position right now, you were in deep shit, you were Jimin’s right now and not suppose to be thinking of fucking another but it was so hard.

So fucking hard. 

[i-do-unimportant-things]

*clap clap* Movie review

So yeah, Charlie’s Angels, the 2019 reboot of the TV show. A  feminist movie but really just a clichè action movie with a mediocre plotline, relying on it’s ‘woke points’ to be watchable.

First, let’s talk about the movie itself and why it did so badly.

The 2019 Charlie’s angels is an action comedy movie about three female super spies trying to retrieve a weapon of mass destruction from the wrong hands directed by Elizabeth banks, the guardian calls this a ‘weaponised feminist frenzy’. This movie hit the theatres at the start of the year and went on to fail so badly, the financial loss can only be explained by claiming there’s a wage gap. Charlie’s angels is originally a TV show from the mid 70s, but nowadays, no one would consider the show ‘feminist’. The entire plot of the TV show existed around the three main female characters being hot, and near naked. Nevertheless this sleazy show was successful and had a few movies coming out in the years 2000 and 2003. And on November 15 2019, the latest Charlie’s angels came out from Sony studios. Sony, the same company that has brought you: Ghostbusters 2016 and the Emoji movie. Now don’t get me wrong lots of movie companies use nostalgia to try and sell tickets, but no one does it quite as poorly as Sony. The movie tries too hard to be some sort of woke feminist statement, but it ends up just being really forced. One of the main actresses, Kristen Stewart has commented that this movie is ‘taking down the patriarchy’ Ah yes, this feminist reboot of a non-feminist show, is taking on the patriarchy head on! C’mon, no one will believe that this mediocre action film is making is making any kind of significant social impact. It would have made a much bigger impact if the movie was not only made by women, but also, enjoyable to watch. The movie was, unsurprisingly, a massive flop shattering Elizabeth Banks dream of turning it into a franchise. It had a budget of $50 million and ended up making $8 million in it’s opening weekend. No one cared to see it, and for those who did, they hated it. Like, seriously despised it, 4/10 on IMDB? Even shark tale is rated better than that. But Elizabeth Banks wasn’t ready to admit that maybe, just maybe, her movie wasn’t that good. No, instead she was bracing herself for a box-office flop, by blaming men.  Prior to the movie’s disastrous opening weekend, she had said that if the movie didn’t do well, it would reinforce a stereotype in Hollywood that men don’t go to see women do action movies. Here’s a little thinker for ya, if people don’t go and see your movie, it may not be because all men are sexist pigs, but people would rather watch a good movie. Regardless of whether or not there’s a female character in it. Not to mention other medias with female leads have gone on to be extremely successful.  Alien? Kill Bill? Tomb Raider? Both Frozen’s? Metroid series? Mulan? Wonder women? Bank’s counters this by saying that the female comic superhero movies are only successful because they are tied into a larger, male genre of movies. Wait so, the successful movies starring women are successful because men are sexist, but your movie isn’t successful because men are sexist? What are you babbling about? Look, I understand it sucks to see a movie you directed, produced and acted in fail, but this weak finger pointing is not going to help.

Now let’s analyse the movie and see why people hated it so much.

Above all, Charlie’s angels is a comedy spy action movie that doesn’t work as a comedy, spy or an action movie. The plot is basically this high-stakes mission about retrieving weapons of mass destruction. But the problem is that the movie never bothers to actually visually establish as dangerous or as anything really. All we see is one of those devices killing one guy right beside it and then being automatically self-destructed. Then there’s the “action”. It’s mostly just noise without any meaningful character moments or choices or obstacles or any real sense of danger. Most of the time the action sequences don’t even serve any purpose plot-wise. On top of it the physics of it are so illogical they just make no sense. Like just watch the car falling out scene. But all that aside what I wanna focus on is the aspect of Charlie’s angels that is probably the main cause of it’s downfall more that anything else; it’s relentless obsession with gender. There’s a difference between a good female-led movie and a movie so blindly obsessed with the feminist agenda that it gets to the point of being destructive to itself. A lot of times with a certain agenda of gender or social class or whatever they tend to feature a core theme that empowers the group or demographic that it’s about. And with Charlie’s angels the care theme is obviously female empowerment which is made very clear from even the first line in the movie “I think women can do anything”. Basically the core theme of Charlie’s angels is that women, by nature, can do anything. In itself, it’s a great message for younger female audiences. The problem is that the movie quickly grows so obsessed with this theme that instead of it being positively empowering, it actually becomes negatively degrading. Because when Charlie’s angels claims that women by nature can do anything, it doesn’t mean that women can do a certain specific set of things they set their minds to, it means that women, by nature, can do literally everything. And before you say that I’m saying it’s a problem because I hate women, hold on. There’s actually a major character issue that comes with this obsession; it makes every female character and main hero shallow and superficial and takes away their individual uniqueness that’s supposed to make them who they are. To show what I mean let’s look at our three main angels; one of them is this tall angel who initially is established as the physical brawler of the team, she’s powerful and likes to solve obstacles by running straight at it and punching them until their no longer obstacles. And that’s great that’s something that gives her character individuality and can delve much deeper into the movie. Thats who she is but then, she makes this smart science trap using chemicals, then all of a sudden this physical brawler turns out also to be a super-smart chemist, and to be clear; she doesn’t become that, she doesn’t learn to be that she already is that because again, women by nature, can do and be anything. So what exactly is the issue with this?  Well at first she is this one specific thing, but then turns out to be an entirely other thing and suddenly, we don’t really know who she is anymore. To build on this example look at the Kristen Stewart’s angel, the way the movie tries to establish her is that she’s this confident improvisor of the team who uses her wits to gain an advantage over others. But the movie also presents her as just as competent of a physical brawler aa the tall angel, which not only makes her witty hustler personality kind of pointless, it also destroys her individuality it’s hard to know who Kristen Stewart is as a person when she can do and be the exact same as the person right next to her, and if we don’t know who she is it’s hard to get into or develop her as a character when we’re not even sure what it is we’re getting into or developing. The only character difference seems to be that Kristen Stewart says what ever haha ‘funny’ she has on her mind. Then we have princess Jasmin’s angel who is this super smart technology nerd thrust into this world she doesn’t belong in. And she could be a pretty Interesting character, if not for the fact that the movie has already presented the tall angel as super-smart as well, and the fact that Jasmin seems to be able to handle herself in a fight too. So, what makes her different? Who is she compared to the others? Who is she as an individual person? And pretty much with every female character the movie is so unhealthy obsessed with this agenda of female empowerment that it just ends up being a weakness. The characters don’t struggle, they don’t have any flaws or depth they don’t have anything that would make them individual people that the audience can care about and watch grow because in a world where everyone is special, no one is. When women by nature can do or be everything, the one thing they can’t do is be unique.

In addition to empowering the group their about, the other thing these movies with social agendas often do is villainise the demographic opposite them and show how they need to struggle to overcome obstacles set by this opposite demographic. And since Charlie’s angels is about women, obviously here the point is to showcase men and the evil they’re capable of. Which again, is made very clear, even from the very beginning. Basically, all male characters in Charlie’s angels are in some way douchebags who treat women in a derogatory sense. There’s a total of three good guy men in this movie. One of them dies, another one is cleansed of his whatever sins by a women beauty, and the last is like the perfect man from a dystopian world where women have enslaved men. So the message is that men can be a bit of an annoying obstacle to women. I personally don’t like this message, but it has potential to explore some really deep themes with it. But the problem again, is that this movie is so blindly obsessed with it’s agenda of having men be evil that it inadvertently destroys the very message it’s trying to explore. Firstly, just like the female side, all the males are diluted down to unrealistic caricatures nobody can take seriously. The security guard for example, his character is supposed to portray men abusing power against women, and it could have been a very powerful message, but the reason that moment doesn’t work whatsoever is because we’ve never even seen the security guard before, and so we have no perception of why he would do this. He’s not being evil because he’s jealous of Jasmin’s career, he’s not being evil because he’s hurt inside or anything, the movie is saying he’s being evil just because he’s a man. All men in this movie are being evil just because their men and that’s all there is to it.The movie doesn’t give us any reasons or explanations, no explored internal fears or flaws or motive or anything under the surface and that’s not how real life people function, that’s not how to get anything done with your message other than it being scoffed off as shallow and dumb. Secondly, this men are evil obsession creates a big narrative problem. In the sense that the plot of the movie quickly becomes very one-dimensional and easy to predict. For example, near the midpoint of the movie there’s a twist that Elizabeth Banks, who is the leader of the angels, might be evil, she might have some evil plan that involves  tracking Patrick Stewart’s good guy character. But then you remember that this movie has just spent it’s entire runtime  proposing that all men are evil just because their men which would then mean that OH WOW WHAT A SURPRISE THE MAN IN A FEMINIST MOVIE IS EVIL. The problem is that it’s really not that much of a surprise to anyone because from the start the film has done everything in it’s power to condition the audience to believe that women are all good and that men are all evil. Having a message criticising men or a whole demographic can be great and powerful. But you can’t let yourself be so blindly obsessed with it that you don’t even bother delving deeper into it.You can’t have women be good just because women are good and men be bad just because men are bad. That’s not realistic, that’s not how the world works, that’s not a message that will get anyone to listen and above all, it’s not good writing.

Another danger that can very easily come true in movies with social agendas is that the message they’re pushing becomes very one-sided. To the point of alienating a certain section of the audience. And with Charlie’s angels, wether the filmmakers intended it or not, the fact is that the movie altogether as a whole is very anti-male. I’ve already commented about all male characters being portrayed as shallow evildoers, but there’s also an underlying theme that men as people are objectively sinful creatures who deserve bad things to happen to them. It docent matter who they are or what they have or haven’t done, if something bad happens to them, it’s okay because they deserve it. For example, there’s a long-running ‘joke’ where the angels continuously injure a bunch of guys and then make quips about wether or not they’re gonna wake up. But there’s nothing inherently wrong with this, when your making a movie,  you are allowed to portray any group of people or entities in whatever positive or negative way you want. So if you want to make a blatantly obvious movie where a specific gender as a whole is portrayed as the worst possible thing in the universe, that’s fine. But you also need to understand is that there’s also gonna be financial consequences from that specific audience. See, before Charlie’s angels hit theatres, it was clear it was gonna be a flop. And knowing this, director Elizabeth Banks had said what I had put above: “if the movie didn’t do well, it would reinforce a stereotype in Hollywood that men don’t go to see women do action movies” and wether or not the statement has truth(which it doesn’t) is irrelevant. The importance of the statement is the implications that Elizabeth Banks doesn’t understand the concept of biting the hand that feeds. Now I don’t really like the anti-male stuff in Charlie’s angels, but as I’ve said, you’re allowed to do whatever you want in your show. So I understand why male audiences didn’t go out of their way to pay money to see their own gender be continuously criticised and called evil. For example if you make a whole movie ridiculing females and calling them the scum of the earth in a very on-the-nose way, you can’t just expect females to swarm in and support it. Thats not how it works. Whatever message your movie has, you have to be smart about how you deliver it. Don’t just say ‘Women good, men bad’ find a way to imply what it is you wanna say through metaphors. As a filmmaker, you would want everyone to enjoy the film, regardless of gender or race or whatever. I’m not criticising Charlie’s angels because I hate female-led movies. I’m being critical of Charlie’s angels because superficial agenda movies like Charlie’s angels are the reason why we still have so relatively few female led movies. And I’d like to think that by now we’re past one-dimensional messages like this.

[regiscasillas]

The Emotional Clothing Store Nerd - Regis C.

Back on July 11, 2022, I had a nighttime dream that went something like this:

Me and my youngest brother were working in a fast food restaurant when a customer wanted a burger. We prepared an order for the customer, but it was the wrong order. Turns out, we had given the customer something else (I forgot what it was), so to avoid any conflict, we both snuck out. We were outside on a city with tall buildings, and I noted how there was a religious TV host nearby preaching.

So me and my brother sneaked off to a nearby Kohl's (clothing store), and we went to the second floor of the store. I commented on how clean and organized the store was, because it was; all the clothes were neatly folded on the racks and shelves, and were perfectly organized by color, type, and the like. The shelves and displays were satisfying to look at. I picked a gray shirt from a shelf on the wall, and remarked that the shirt was $97 dollars. My brother then corrects me, saying that the shirt was actually $45 dollars. I went point out the shirt on the adjacent shelf was $97, but was actually $93.

We then met a stereotypical-looking nerd in the clothing store, who was Caucasian, wore a white shirt and black glasses, and had curly brown hair. Me and my brother were eating spicy French fry chips when he tells us a derogatory remark. I responded with, "You should fix your appearance." The nerd then got upset, and calls his mom on his cell phone to tell on us, like a child would tell on their parents. His mom, however, gave the nerd a long talk, and we just stood there, still eating the spicy fry chips. He then burst into tears once the phone call ended. Me and my brother both felt bad, and so did the manager of the Kohl's. The manager said she would give the nerd "an unknown hire, Bonnie & Clyde style" in an attempt to cheer him up.

And that's where the dream ended.

Story from Regis C., 2022