Tumgik
#I don't know if I'm communicating it well
kumzorg · 2 days
Text
youtube
All the arguments online about Vivian's trans identity used old japanese version as a reference point, so I wanted to see what japanese community has to say about it, and was suprised to see that it's in fact the game's original text that was rewritten.
Original japanese text:
" "Three Shadow Sisters"? Where did you get that!? You're not even a girl!"
"I'm sorry, sister..."
Rewritten japanese text:
"It's not "Three Shadow Sisters", its "Three Shadows Crew"! I'm always telling you that, damnit!"
"I'm sorry... it's just, in my heart I'm your sister as well..."
And checking the currect remake translation i t is very much exactly the same text, it makes it less as direct hatred for her identity and more like dismissal of her as a part of the family. Compare to Gamecube english version, where she is instead mocked for her looks, but not gender identity. This is so interesting to me, because in modern political scene the most annoying opinion is how "localizers are erasing culture and trying to push their own narative", when in this same game the older english translation erased character's whole identity, opting to instead make it less obvious and in a way going againts the original intent. And seeing that the modern remake is even more progressive even without english intervention makes me so happy, although I do admit it's not AS clear about it as original text. It's not bad of course, later on she directly says that "Even if my body is male, my heart is of a pretty girl." I don't know if you can be any more clear about it than that.
If anything, japanese people are at the worst neutral, and at the best are just as excited that a character that they love gets proper recognition from game's text.
What 90% of comments were more focused on is when naked invisible Peach walks on the ground and you can hear her bare feet slapping sounds, they have different priorities.
1K notes · View notes
roebeanstalk · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
My landlord has decided not to move forward with me as a tenant due to my history with payment/mental health. While this is frustrating as heck, it’s allowed me to find a better, more affordable housing situation. I have signed a lease at a new place and move in July 1st!
I’m asking for help with the security deposit, which is $485 and needs to be paid within the first week of June.
Cashapp https://cash.app/clawshot venmo https://venmo.com/rmck89 ko-fi https://ko-fi.com/roebeanstalk
Once the deposit is paid, my space on the lease is officially secured and I am good to go. This is the main thing that I am looking for help with.
Any help at all is super appreciated. Every dollar adds up, and shares are so helpful too. I know that I’ve received so much help from people in the past and I can’t thank you all enough. I hope that this is the last of these that I have to do.
Needs:
Security deposit: $0/$485 June rent: $0/$675
Bonus: July rent (First month at new place): $485 Movers + Uhaul: $300-350
More info on my situation under the cut!
Thank you so, so so much.
Why I need help:
I have a history of mental health issues, and as a result I have a very difficult time getting and maintaining employment. My mental health also impacts my ability to keep up with and complete freelance/commission work in a timely manner. While I have made some incredible steps forward lately thanks to the right combo of therapy, medication, and a support system, I am still not at a point where I am self-sufficient yet. I am getting there – and I am committed to keep trying no matter what.
This new housing situation is incredible for me – it’s a room in a quiet house with two other queer folk, and the rent is very affordable compared to my current situation. The new place is $485/month, the current place is $675/month. Even with utilities, my total overhead for shelter will cost less than rent at my current place. If I can secure my spot in this house and move forward, I see such a clear path forward for me in terms of self-improvement and self-sufficiency.
For the first time in 15 years, I feel like I can tackle the things ahead of me. If you’re able to help out I would really, really appreciate it.
What I’m doing:
I am job hunting for something that works well for my situation. With the cost of rent, I think that a part time job will be able to cover it. The process of getting a job is difficult for me, but I am committed to continuing to work at it.
On the art front, I have occasional comic coloring jobs that help me out. I also have commissions – I have finally been moving forward at a good rate and have been really happy with my work. In time, this will be able to be a more standard income route. I also have a Patreon that brings in about $65/month.
Cashapp https://cash.app/clawshot / venmo https://venmo.com/rmck89 / ko-fi https://ko-fi.com/roebeanstalk
Thank you so much for reading over all of this. Thank you to everyone who has helped with donations or kind words or reblogs. Thank you so much to every commissioner and customer who has been patient as hell with me on artwork, communication, and stickers. Thank you thank you thank you. Thanks to every single one of you I have been able to keep pushing myself forward, and I'm so happy to keep doing it and make good on everything. And eventually, give back to my community. I love you all so much, even though i don't know any of you that well. Thank youuuu. <3
716 notes · View notes
les4elliewilliams · 21 hours
Text
Happy together.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Officer!Ellieㄨ fem reader
a/n: i honestly don't know how to feel about this but it took me ages to write so i'm going to post it anyway. also enjoy the trashy lil pic i edited of my wife😌// @sapphichotmess is gonna get soapy boobies pics for proofreading this. i love you you're amazing.
cw/wc: 17k ! murders/violence, mention of blood (I don't think it's that bad but if you're sensitive to this type of stuff just scroll), officer!ellie x waitress!reader, (tw) Eminem, smut, breeding kink, handcuffs😔, strap-on sex (r!receiving), thigh riding (e!receiving), use of pet names like (mama, princess, babe etc), and uhhh that's it i believe?? lmk if i missed something.
daily click・palestine masterpost・neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks.
Tumblr media
The Police Station – Late Night – September 11th, 2018.
The auburnette released a heavy, exaggerated sigh, her weariness palpable as she delicately brushed the rough, calloused palms of her hands against her fatigued face, a few stray strands of hair cascading gently across her features, capturing the attention of her colleague. His eyes lifted towards his friend, a concerned furrow appearing on his face as he took in the haunting purple shadows under her eyes, a poignant reflection of her exhaustion.
"You look like shit, man," He suddenly exclaimed, the tips of his fingers dancing on the smooth plastic caps of his laptop.
"Awh, thanks, that's so sweet," She reclined in her office chair, the weight of the day's paperwork momentarily forgotten. It felt as though she had been sitting there for an eternity, each and every cell of her body yearning and longing for her wife. With her shift drawing to a close, she could hardly contain her anticipation of returning home to you, just so that she could feel the warmth of your embrace and perhaps resume the intimate and passionate encounters you had shared last night.
The boy leaned back in his chair, and a smug smirk spread across his face. "You look like you haven't slept," His gaze shifted back to his friend, who was sitting at her desk across the room, her eyes tired and her shoulders slumped.
"'Cause I haven't," she uttered, shaking her head. A light, airy puff of air escaped her chapped lips as her fingers danced through her locks, coaxing burnished stray strands away from her face.
"How are things going with your girl?" He gave her a questioning look, as if silently asking what was going on. It struck him that she hadn't complained about her marriage in a while.
Her response was a mere nod as she admitted, "Pretty good, actually." However, her gaze remained unfocused, her mind elsewhere as she replayed the previous night's memories in her head. Your moans echoed in her ears while the image of your ecstatic expressions played on repeat, like a broken video tape stuck on a single scene.
"Really?"
He was the one she trusted wholeheartedly. In the darkest hours of her marital struggles, she sought refuge in Jesse's ever-present presence. Hours would slip away as she poured out her heart to him until the early light of dawn or until their shift was over. Yet, he never seemed to mind 'cause his friends' problems were his problems.
After a great four years together, where you and she shared an uncanny kinship and complemented each other like two puzzle pieces, things took a gradual turn for the worse. Heated arguments began to erupt frequently, fueled by petty disagreements about insignificant matters such as the shoes left by the door, piles of unwashed dishes on the living room coffee table, or the kitchen table. Over time, both of you grew tired of this never-ending cycle of conflict. 
Dr. Diaz was remarkable in his ability to guide both of you in honing your communication skills and learning how to make each other feel truly heard. It felt like a fresh start with someone you already knew so well and had shared countless memories with. Initially, walking out of your first session was an uncomfortable experience, leaving you feeling almost overly exposed, as if you had revealed too much. The ride back home was filled with an awkward silence that was unfamiliar, never in your life you felt awkward around her, not even once. A few small sighs escaped occasionally, both of you remaining silent until you finally returned home.
"Yeah."
His warm smile spoke volumes as he offered reassuring words to her, "Told you it was just a matter of time. Dina and I have been through it, too, before."
She sat comfortably in her weathered chair, leaning back slightly as she pushed herself away from her sturdy wooden desk. "Speaking of Dina, how's she holdin’ up?" her mind suddenly shifted to a very pregnant Dina who was already eight months along and was about to explode at any second.
The raven-haired man imperceptibly shrugged his shoulders "Y'know, pregnancy hormones—what the doctor said."
She let out a soft snort, a half-smile gracing her lips. "Have you settled on the names?" she inquired.
He sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "We keep fighting over it," he admitted, "She wants to name him-" before he could finish his sentence, an announcement echoing through the hallway of the department caught Ellie's and his attention simultaneously. They stood up abruptly, exchanging concerned glances and rushed out of the small room with a sense of urgency.
"A 140, where?" Ellie's voice quivered, her heart hoping against hope that she had misheard the news. Worry painted itself across her freckled face, etching lines of concern amidst the constellation of her pretty freckles.
It couldn't be. No, it couldn't.
Color drained from her face, and she grew paler than the moon, the realization hitting her like a sudden storm. It was the same diner where you worked, and worry consumed her like a relentless tide. 
They made their way towards Jesse's car with lightning speed, both fully aware that Ellie was in no condition to get behind the wheel. She urged Jesse to drive faster, her heart thudding like crazy in her ribcage. She tried to call you countless times, but you never answered. Her palms turned clammy, her hands trembling like fragile leaves in the wind.
"Fuckin' hurry up." The car swerved erratically, anxiety emanating from every pore of her skin. Her voice grew louder and more forceful as she shouted at Jesse, who held the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. 
"We’re gonna crash if we go any faster than this," he raised his voice back at her, feeling all the pressure and tension of the world on his shoulders, but at the same time, he couldn't blame her.
Tumblr media
The Diner – Late Night – September 11th, 2018.
As they reached the crime scene, her eyes were immediately drawn to the stark sight of yellow tape cordoning off the area. The tape fluttered gently in the breeze, creating an almost surreal barrier. Beyond it, the solemn figures of police officers moved with purpose, their expressions a mix of determination and concern. 
A lone officer stood at the forefront, diligently jotting down notes, while another leaned in to share crucial details about the tragic event. Their hushed conversations hinted at the weight of the situation as they sought to unravel the enigma of the killer's intentions. "I've never seen anything like this 'round here before. The killer must have acted out of rage or passion. There must be a reason," The freckled girl strained to hear the officers' hushed conversation, her stomach sinking with each word. 
As she moved closer, they swiftly barred her way. The scene unfolded like a haunting painting—the diner's floor marked by crimson footsteps. She couldn't tell if it was the officer's grim descriptions or the frigid night air that sent shivers down her spine.
"Williams, they are already taking care of it, just wait here and-"
"No, no, no, listen—I have to go in there. My wife works here."  She desperately attempted to push through the two middle-aged men, but they held her back with ease. Her voice quivered with fear as she begged to reach you. Were you harmed? Were you in pain? Were you...alive?
Her face was like a canvas of worry, etched with lines of concern. With a graceful shrug, she brushed off the unwelcome hands on her shoulders, "Who's the victim?" she feared what the answer to her question would be, but she needed to know. Her brows were furrowed with worry as she waited for a response, her eyes brimming with fear. "Pleaseplease—Tell me it's not her." She pleaded with such desperation and worry on your behalf that the two men couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. They saw the depth of her love and concern for you, and what touched them the most was that they knew you.
Every day, you would lovingly pack a lunch, a sweet treat, or even a hearty dinner to bring to her at work. Your kindness shone through like a warm beam of sunlight, always in a cheerful mood with a genuine smile on your face as you chatted with her colleagues, asking them about their day and thanking them for their service before returning to your routine.
Ellie stood before the men, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. One of the men heaved a deep, mournful sigh that echoed in the stillness, and he shook his head gravely, his lips drawn into a tight, sorrowful frown. 
"Your wife is currently being interrogated as she was present when the murder occurred," Officer Johnson explained to the younger girl, his voice low and measured. She let out a long sigh of relief as his words reached her ears, finally being able to remove the image of you lying in a pool of blood from her mind.
While she felt guilty about it, she couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that it wasn't you the one who had been brutally murdered. It was a twisted and sick feeling, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders even though a girl had been brutally murdered. She was grateful that you were still alive, safe, and healthy, at least as far as she knew. She longed to be there for her wife, to wrap her arms around you and hold you tight. She wanted to comfort you, to reassure you that everything would be okay, even though she wasn't entirely sure herself.
"Please, I need to see her." She kept pleading and pleading until her colleagues finally relented and let her slip past the bright plastic tape. She raced into the diner and quickly scanned the scene. Blood stained the floor, and the door to the back room was left wide open. Blood was pooled on the floor, with a corpse lying beneath a white sheet. Vanessa Harding was now a lifeless corpse. As Ellie surveyed the carnage, her heart ached at the sight of you sobbing on the retro sofa as an investigator tried to coax answers out of you. But you seemed completely lost in your own world, clearly shaken.
The sound of her voice calling out your name as she approached you with a mix of eagerness and concern seemed to blend with the rest of the background chatter as you found yourself unable to shake off your daze. Her trembling hands found their place on your shoulders, gently pushing the agent who was interrogating you aside. A glimpse of concern crossed her eyes as she took in the blood stains on your once-blue waitress uniform. Her heart ached at the sight of you. She hesitated, fighting the urge to pull you into a comforting hug, knowing that maintaining some distance was best in such moments. What mattered was that you were okay, healthy, at least.
The investigator began to speak, but Ellie quickly turned her head towards him, fixing him with a death glare. Her body stiffened as she shielded you from his view. "Can't you see she's having a full-on mental breakdown? We're not supposed to interrogate people in this state," she stated firmly, her voice cold and harsh. 
The officer took a step back, sighing in frustration. "I'll be back in a minute." He announced, and with that, he left the room, leaving the two of you alone beside a few medical examiners and other colleagues doing their job, the light chatting becoming a white noise for the both of you.
You sat there, absentmindedly consumed by your thoughts, when a melodic voice penetrated your haze. You lifted your gaze to find a concerned Ellie standing before you, her presence initially unnoticed. Despite her ongoing comforting words, you were too engrossed in your own thoughts to truly register her. It wasn't until she drew a chair and sat right in front of you that your focus shifted completely. When your vacant eyes now met hers, you broke down again.
Your voice quivered as you whispered, "E-ellie..." as tears streamed down your face and your bottom lip trembled. You felt a sudden wave of relief as her hands gently cupped your face, and her thumb caressed your cheekbone. 
Her comforting voice soothed your soul as she whispered, "I was so worried, baby. I'm here now, ‘m here." You cried harder, but this time, it was tears of gratitude and love. Her presence made you feel like nothing could hurt you anymore because she was there. You felt safe in her embrace like everything was going to be okay.
"I was getting off my- and she… she... I tried, I really tried-" Your words were tangled and muttered, barely above a whisper. You shook profusely, completely consumed by the traumatic event that had just unfolded. Ellie could sense the terror and dread in your voice, and she swiftly drew you closer, encircling you in a comforting embrace. She held you tight, her palm soothingly stroking your head, creating a soothing effect that gradually calmed your trembling. She whispered gentle words of reassurance in your ear, imploring you to calm down and promising safety. Her voice was a soothing balm, its effect helping to assuage your rattled nerves. It was all you needed, she was all you needed.
It was as if she had an uncanny knack for dispelling your fears and nerves "Shhhshh" She quieted you gently, her words evoking a profound sense of gratitude within you for having someone so attuned to your emotions in your life. "You're safe, you're safe." As she drew back, she slipped off her jacket and gently draped it over your shoulders, ensuring you were warm and at ease, hoping to stop your turmoil. "S'okay…I gotchu." She continued to softly whisper reassurances in your ear, soothing your worries away with the knowledge that everything would turn out alright. In that instant, the entire world seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in the present moment.
After a few moments had passed, you had noticeably calmed down, prompting Ellie to allow the officer who had been interrogating you earlier to resume his task. She stood closely beside him as he launched into a string of questions, his pen scrawling diligently on his notebook.
"So you got off your shift, you returned to retrieve your keys, and found her dead, is that correct?" The old man recapitulated your statement, his gaze shifting between your barely exposed uniform beneath your wife's jacket and the bloodstains marking your clothing. He further inquired, "And you slipped on the blood?" His eyes remained fixated on the bloodstains that adorned your uniform, while your gaze remained locked on the bloodied footprints on the floor, you responded with a small shake of your head.
"I was kneeling in the blood, trying to bring her back, but there was no heartbeat. I freaked out. I wanted to do something, anything, but she was already gone"
"Any additional details that you recall?" he questioned, his eyebrows arching inquisitively in your direction.
"There was a..." In a feeble voice, you began to reply, only for it to falter and crack. You cleared your throat, attempting to regain your composure before speaking in a firmer tone, "There was a man." You sniffed, looking up at him with a frown tugging at the corners of your lips "He had his hood up, so I couldn't see his face. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a black hoodie, and he looked to be about 5'7," You strained to extract every possible detail, and he diligently recorded them in quick succession. 
The only sound filling the crowded diner was the scratching of his pen against the paper, while the ambient chatter of the other patrons added a surreal yet comforting hum in the background. The scene felt utterly unreal, like some messed up vivid dream.
"Sir, there are no files from the security cameras' system. Whoever it was made sure to leave no traces," another officer interjected, halting the ongoing interrogation.
"Was anyone else there? besides you and well… Vanessa." He gazed at you with a furrowed brow, and you responded with a subtle shake of your head. Your lips formed a taut line as you revisited every fleeting moment preceding the end of your shift.
"I was about to finish my shift, and usually, no one shows up around that time. Before he arrived, there was a lady with a kid, but I don't think they saw each other." You explained, taking a moment to glance at your wife, hoping to find comfort in her eyes. A faint smile appeared on her face, accompanied by a small, supportive nod. She was there for you.
The officer hastily transcribed all the details, his pen scratching against the paper. "I'll give you a moment," he said, casting a furtive glance at Ellie before quietly exiting the room, making his departure alongside his steadfast colleague.
She stepped closer to you with a gentle grace, reaching out to lift your chin with the utmost care. Her touch was as light as a feather, almost as if she feared causing you any harm. "You're doing great, pretty. We're almost done, okay? Just hang on," She gazed down at you with a smile that could light up the darkest sky, her eyes filled with tenderness and warmth. Your gaze met hers, and in that moment, it felt like time stood still. Her delicate touch traced the contours of your face, evoking a sense of serenity that enveloped you. As you closed your eyes, a gentle sigh escaped your lips, and you leaned into her caress, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders.
After a few moments, Jesse entered the crowded diner, his footsteps echoing softly on the floor. He exchanged a few words with the man who had been interrogating you the entire time. Ellie briefly glanced at him, and a faint smile graced her lips as they locked eyes, holding each other's gaze in that fleeting moment.
"So whatcha wanna do when we get back home?" she asked in an attempt to steer your thoughts away from the stress and chaos.
"I don't know... I wanna sleep," you pouted, your words soft and heavy with weariness. She looked down at you with tenderness, gently brushing a stray piece of hair out of the way and tucking it behind your ear. 
"Tempting. But I was thinking of your favorite movie and pizza?" she suggested, her hopeful gaze meeting yours, her voice carrying a whisper of warmth.
You forced a half smile at her suggestion, your eyes still looking more tired than ever. "What about tacos? You know that Mexican place down the street?" You recalled the Mexican restaurant that recently opened down the street. For about two weeks, you had been telling her you wanted to try it, yet you still hadn't gotten the chance to.
She brushed your hair with her fingers, each gentle stroke feeling like a soft caress. A gentle smile formed on her lips, making the apples of her cheeks more pronounced. "Good idea, babe," she praised, her voice as soothing as a summer breeze, as tender as her touch, and you couldn't help but smile back at her, feeling the warmth of her affection enveloping you like a soft blanket.
After what seemed like an eternity, they finally let you go, and Ellie refused to leave your side for even a moment. Jesse drove you both home in solemn silence, punctuated only by the occasional light banter between him and Ellie. The weight of the impending visit to the police station loomed over you, and you couldn't fathom the reason behind the barrage of questions that awaited you. Perhaps it was due to the absence of eyewitnesses, but you were ready to cooperate nonetheless. That night, she held you gently, wrapping you in a comforting hug until you fell asleep.
Tumblr media
The Police Station – September 12th, 2018.
The very next day, your wife stood by your side as you both headed to the police station. Her hand gently rested on your thigh throughout the entire ride, silently expressing her unwavering love and support. The warm sunbeams that usually provided comfort through the car windows didn't have the same effect on your nerves. Your stomach felt heavy, as if a knot had formed within you. Anxiety and restlessness consumed you. Her green emerald eyes frequently flickered towards you as she attempted to soothe your nerves with soft whispers, promising to stay by your side the entire time. 
"It's going to be okay, honey." Her lips, delicate as rose petals, gently pressed against your forehead. She reluctantly let you go, watching you disappear into the interrogation room. Her colleagues' words echoed in the air, emphasizing the need for her to stay out so she would not interfere in any way.
"How did you sleep y/n?" the detective in front of you asked, turning on the recorder player before reaching for a pencil and starting scribbling on her papers.
"Awful," you exhaled, the weight of the word hanging heavy in the air. Your index finger delicately traced the arch of your brow as you gazed downwards, lost in a moment of profound contemplation.
"It must've been a traumatizing experience for you." 
You nodded barely, your tired eyes meeting hers, "It was." Your face was less radiant than usual. The detective had seen you countless times before in this exact station, searching for your wife to deliver her something. Sometimes, it was a carefully prepared meal, other times, it was a bouquet of her favorite flowers or simply a thoughtful gift. And then there were the times you were there just to check up on her, your unexpected visits filled with love and concern.
"Let's attempt to retrace your steps together. Shall we?"
"Okay"
"Let's start from the beginning," she said, giving you the chance to speak at your own pace, without any pressure, so that you could fully elaborate on your memories and feelings.
////////////////////
The Diner – Early Night  – September 11th, 2018.
You let out a heavy sigh, feeling utterly exhausted from the long hours of the shift. You had barely slept the day before, managing a measly 3 hours of restless sleep that did little to ease the heavy weariness on your tired shoulders. Every inch of you ached for the comforting embrace of your bed, and your eyes longed to shut for just a moment. 
As you wiped the counter clean, you glanced towards the door that seemed to swing open all too rarely during this late hour. The clock ticked closer to 4:04 am, and you knew it was unusual for people to come around this time of night. Just a few customers here and there was all you could expect, and you preferred it that way. 
The background noise of chatter in the late-night diner was enough to lull you to sleep, but you kept going on autopilot, moving to the sink to wash the few dishes that awaited you. Another heavy sigh escaped your lips as you thought about the hours that separated you from your pillow's comfort—the night seemed to stretch on infinitely.
"Ready to run back home to get laid?" the shorter girl teased you playfully, nudging you with her elbow as a small smile played on her red lips. She noticed the exhaustion written on your face, the fatigue in your heavy eyelids, and the dark circles under your eyes. You let out a dry chuckle, trying to hide the exhaustion that had settled deep within you. 
"Just wanna go to bed," you responded with a weak but playful smile
"Right. go to bed with your hot wife—wonder what y'all freaks will do." Vanessa continued to playfully tease you, her liking for your wife a little too evident in her words. Ever since Ellie stepped into this diner for the first time, the brunette set her eyes on her. However, Ellie had always made the fact that she wasn't interested obvious. Your friend was pretty unlucky in this sort of thing; the best she would get was a phone number scribbled on a piece of paper by a middle-aged, beer-bellied man, who was likely just looking for a quick hook-up. And despite her initial attempts to draw Ellie's attention, Vanessa could sense that her interest was unreciprocated, leaving her feelings unreturned for the time being.
You couldn't help but let out a small giggle at Vanessa's words, and you nudged her lightly with your hip as a playful gesture. She moved closer, taking over the task of drying the dishes you had just washed, her hands methodically working alongside yours to complete the chore "Oh, handcuff me, Ellie, I've been such a bad, bad girl." She imitated you in a high-pitched voice that was nothing like yours, and you responded with a dramatic gasp, feigning shock and surprise at her teasing. The exaggerated reaction only seemed to amuse her more, and she broke into a wide grin, her laughter echoing through the diner. 
"Oh my god, shut up!" 
She burst into a fit of laughter, her amusement so intense that it drew the attention of the few remaining customers in the retro-looking diner. Some of them shot her strange looks, narrowing their eyes disapprovingly at the disturbance, while others simply ignored her and continued with their conversations.
"I swear, you shouldn't even be allowed here. You're embarrassing.” You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her, secretly appreciating her exuberant spirit. Her laughter died down; her blue eyes shifted toward the table where an older woman and her child had just finished their meal. The brunette approached the table, wiping it clean and pocketing the generous tip the woman had left her. She shot a wide smile her way, thanking her before returning to your side behind the counters.
"Hey, not fair," you complained, turning off the faucet with a huff and drying your hands on a cloth before facing her. "Let's split." 
She grinned at you unapologetically, "Sorry, finders keepers." You sighed, turning towards her with one hand on your hip, with a playful disappointment on your face.
"Whatever—my shift is almost over anyways. Guess who's gonna be stuck here for a while longer? Hah! Not me." The lighthearted taunts cut short as a man suddenly entered the diner, his dark clothes and raised hood casting an eerie shadow over his features. You exchanged a glance with your coworker, silently agreeing that the stranger's appearance was suspicious, but decided to brush it off.
"Liz is gonna be here in a bit. Want me to wait here with you until she arrives?" you offered thoughtfully, your fingers skillfully untying the frilly white fabric that had been wrapped around your waist throughout the entire shift. Your eyes darted discreetly towards the man sitting at one of the tables, completely engrossed by his phone as he typed feverishly, his fingers dancing across the screen. The dim lighting of the diner cast shadows on his face, making it difficult to discern his expressions or intent.
“Naaah, I'll be fine.” she gave you a reassuring smile, and you nodded in acknowledgment, murmuring a quick "alright" before disappearing into the back room. The sound of the door creaking echoed softly in your ears as you entered the staff area, immediately shedding your frilly apron and gathering your personal belongings.
When you exited the small room, you saw Vanessa pouring steaming coffee into the mysterious man's cup. Navigating your way towards the exit, your shoulder bumped against hers, and she whispered playfully, “Eminem wannabe,” and you couldn't help but chuckle.
You had barely made it halfway down the road when the sickening realization hit you like a brick—you had left your keys at the diner. Ellie wouldn't be home anytime soon, so there was no way you could get in. You cursed under your breath before reluctantly turning your car around, determined to retrieve your keys. But when you returned to the diner, the scene that greeted you was surreal and terrifying. Vanessa's lifeless body lay on the floor, a gruesome tableau of violence that seemed to defy imagination, and there was no trace of the Eminem look-alike she had jested about only moments ago. 
With a sense of dread and disbelief, you cautiously approached her body, the pool of blood surrounding her seeming to glow a disturbingly bright shade of red in the low light of the back room. You succumbed to the weight of the situation, the strength leaving your body as you sank to your knees. After calling out her name and shaking her in vain, the cold reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. No pulse, no breathing, no nothing. The sticky, warm liquid of her blood staining your bare knees was a chilling reminder of the horror that had played out in the dark corners of the diner. The room was filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of your labored breathing as you sat there in shock and the broken sobs that escaped your wobbly lips, echoing in the now-empty diner. It was a moment that you would never forget, a nightmare that would haunt you for the rest of the days.
“911, what's your emergency?”
////////////////////
The Police Station – September 12th, 2018.
Your face is stained with grief and regret. “I wish I waited with her, I had a gut feeling and-” You hiccupped, your voice choked with emotion, “I regret not listening to it.” The blonde woman before you nodded in understanding, her gaze filled with a mixture of empathy and professional detachment. After a moment, she reached out to turn off the recorder, the soft click cutting off the audio of your emotional confession.
The detective stood up, her words a mere formality in the face of your emotional turmoil. "That is it, y/n. Thank you for your cooperation." With a final nod, she turned and left the room, leaving you with your emotions and thoughts. 
In a flash of movement, Ellie entered the room, her steps quick and purposeful as she slid in just as the detective stepped out. Her eyes softened as she took in your tear-stained face. 
"Hey," she whispered softly, her words reaching your ears and bringing a brief moment of comfort. You mustered a weak "Hey" in response. The weight of the situation was heavy on your shoulders, and you felt a deep sense of vulnerability in her presence, the trauma of the past few hours still lingering in your mind.
“You did pretty good, ma.” She stood right behind you, her touch gentle and reassuring as she rubbed your shoulders. Her presence was strong and supportive, even though you couldn't bring yourself to meet her gaze. But she was there by your side as always, and it was the only guarantee you needed in that moment.
"Just wanna go home." You murmured, your voice barely audible, earning a nod from her; her silent response conveying her understanding of your unspoken need for comfort.
"I'll take you," she offered softly, her voice a gentle reassurance. You tried to protest, not wanting to add to her burden. She was working, after all, and the last thing you wanted was to keep your hot wife from fulfilling her responsibilities. 
"No, it's fine," you said hurriedly. "You're working anyways." But Ellie's insistence was unwavering, her tone firm yet compassionate.
"It's fine, I promise," she assured you, her words leaving no room for argument. All she wanted to do was linger by your side and stay home with you, but duty called, and right after dropping you home, she returned to her workplace.
Tumblr media
Police Station – September 15th, 2018.
The raven-haired man approached Ellie, his voice serious as he announced, "Things don't look too good, El." He quickly locked the door behind him before continuing to spill some private matters everyone had kept from her.
The atmosphere in the room turned tense as Jesse placed his hands on the edge of Ellie's desk and leaned closer to her. His serious expression left no doubt that he wasn't joking around. "Are you on ‘shrooms again?" she asked sarcastically, but when he didn't break into a smile, she set down her pen and looked up at him, her expression turning serious. "I'm gonna take that as a no," she said cautiously, her voice still laced with a hint of sarcasm.
Ellie's tentative words broke the silence again, "So? You gonna tell me what's up, or you just gonna stand there and look stupid?" But her playful remark was again met with the man's serious and troubled expression. He shook his head slowly, sighing as if he was carefully considering the right words to use. He leaned closer to her, his voice now a low, hushed tone.
"They think your girl has something to do with it." The seriousness in his voice left no doubt that it was a situation that could not be taken lightly.
Ellie's defensive and aggravated tone filled the room as she stood up from her worn-out office chair, abruptly raising her voice. "What?! That's fuckin’ absurd!" she snapped, "They can't accuse her of that—she didn't do it!" Jesse raised his hand to beckon her to keep it quiet, his expression serious as he tried to keep the conversation from escalating. 
"Listen, don't let them know that you know,” he explained, his voice hushed. "They weren't going to tell you because they think you'll get involved and mess up the investigation,” he explained. The freckled girl's face contorted with a mix of disbelief, anger, and fear as her friend described the situation to her. Her fists clenched as she took in the news, her mind racing with a hundred thoughts at once. 
"What do the police think they have on her?" she interrogated, her voice barely above a whisper. 
Jesse sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out how to answer her question. "Nothing. They said they won't say anything until they find evidence.” The more she pondered the situation, the faster her heart raced, and her palms grew damp with perspiration. It almost felt like a betrayal of trust. These were people who had known you for years, yet they didn't hesitate to place you at the top of their list of suspects despite lacking any evidence.
Ellie's agitation was palpable as she paced back and forth, "So what if they don't find anything, hm?" she demanded, her frustration clear in her voice. "That's complete bullshit, Jesse—My wife… Why would they even think that?" Her voice was low and harsh, filled with a mix of outrage and defensiveness, Jesse visibly tensed at the harshness of her tone. “Just because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time? Well, guess what! It's nothing she can control. She simply happens to work at the diner, for fuck’s sake!" Her outburst reverberated off the walls of the small office, the frustration and anger practically tangible in the air as she forcefully slammed her hand down on the polished wooden desk.
Jesse gently but firmly placed his hands on Ellie's shoulders, his gaze locking with hers "Keep it quiet, dude. You tryna get both of us in trouble? I wasn't even supposed to tell you, but I thought you deserved to know," He hushed her, slightly shaking her to emphasize his point. He understood the sensitive nature of the situation, after all, they were not talking about any other girl. They were talking about Ellie's wife. Jesse's years as a police officer had taught him that stress management was key to handling these situations effectively, something Ellie seemed to lack sometimes. 
Her green emeralds bored into his as she shook her head slowly, attempting to regain her composure. "Sorry," she sighed.
"Listen, there's nothing to worry about unless they find evidence." He reassured her in a soothing tone, releasing her shoulders.
"Well, I can assure you they won't find anything." She stated confidently, her tone still stern as her brows furrowed, and he nodded. 
"I know. I know she has nothing to do with it." He truly couldn't wrap his head around it. How could they ever think someone like you had something to do with it? You were probably one of the kindest people he knew.
Tumblr media
St. John's Health | Hospital – September 27th, 2018.
Eventually, the investigators turned their attention away from you, their focus shifting to the mysterious man you had described as the killer. There was no evidence whatsoever linking you to the brutal murder of Vanessa; why would you even harm someone you considered a friend? The text messages between you and your coworker revealed a purely friendly relationship, and there was no apparent motive for the crime. With no evidence to incriminate you, they dropped all suspects within three days. They all witnessed your evident grief when you discovered your friend’s lifeless body, shock and devastation overwhelming you, making them feel… off-track.
You stopped going to work, and even if you had the choice, there was no use; the diner remained shut, never to be reopened after the tragic accident, and the entire town of once quiet and peaceful community seemed unsettled and frightened by the series of murders that followed the diner accident. The once lively eatery now lay abandoned, a somber reminder of the tragedy that had befallen the town. 
They had been trying everything, but the police found themselves chasing shadows. The one consistent detail from witnesses was the description of a man wearing a hood that covered his face, yet no one managed to catch a glimpse of his identity. So the authorities tried diligently interrogating individuals with a history of violence or abusive behavior, but each suspect appeared innocent, their alibis providing a strong defense, and none of them really fit the description. 
Residents began locking themselves in at night, their evenings filled with unease and terror. Pretty soon, the killer and his murders became the main topic of conversation everywhere. It seemed like everyone was completely shaken up and fixated on the news surrounding the mysterious figure. Even the media jumped on the bandwagon, naming him the 'Shadow Killer,' a name that perfectly captured the eerie and unsettling nature of his attacks.
The baby's shrill cries and soft coos filled the hospital room as Jesse turned off the TV, muttering, "This shit’s crazy" under his breath. Ellie nodded in agreement, her gaze momentarily lingering on the news report before returning her focus to you, holding Dina's bundle of joy with love and care. The thought of having kids had never really crossed her mind, but something about seeing you with the baby, making silly faces to coax laughter out of him while rocking him gently, filled her with a desire to try and another type of desire. 
She felt like building a family with you would complete her, despite having said that she considered you her everything and that she needed nothing else. While it was partially true, seeing your maternal instincts kicking in made her feel like everything clicked, like that was the final piece to your marriage and relationship—one she didn’t even know was missing.
A warm smile graced Ellie's face as she observed you interacting with JJ, gushing over the baby boy with a soft voice, claiming he was the most adorable thing you've ever set your eyes on.
“He's perfect, Dee,” you stated for the millionth time. 
The brunette chuckled in response, jokingly telling you, “He's all yours.”
Jesse chimed in with a jest, bumping the shorter girl's shoulder “You're next,” earning a puzzled look from her. He cleared his throat and clarified, “First–they’re holding someone’s kid and next thing you know, they're asking for one.” Raising her scarred brows, Ellie scoffed at the teasing comment, but when her crystalline emeralds returned to you, she realized he wasn’t wrong. The sparkle in your eyes as you held the baby, a look that spoke volumes to your wife, who had known you for years. She could see the unmistakable signs of love and adoration on your face and she knew that sooner or later, you were going to bring it up.
She approached you, her heart melting under the warmth of your soft smile, peering over your shoulder to look at the pretty boy in your arms, “El, look at him,” you whispered, gently cradling JJ in your arms.
“He's got Jesse's eyes,” she remarked, studying the little one's features. 
Jesse couldn't help but burst into laughter, correcting her playfully, “He looks Asian, you mean.” eliciting a burst of laughter from Ellie. 
“Totally what I meant.” she retorted sarcastically. 
"Dunno, looks like the baby from the Ice Age movie t'me"
Tumblr media
Your Apartment – October 2nd, 2018.
Ever since that “fateful” night at the hospital, you became the only thought that occupied her mind. Sure, she was your wife, and it was supposed to be that way, but there was one specific thought that consumed every cell of her brain. You, pregnant. Pregnant with her baby, your tummy swelling with the precious life growing inside you and your skin radiating a warm, ethereal glow. It was something that played in her mind nonstop, especially during sex. Especially when she was rutting against your pussy. 
The thought of your juices mingling together, the thought of filling you up with her essence, was something that didn't seem to want to leave her mind anytime soon. And she couldn't seem to keep her hands off of you, always finding excuses to touch you, caress you, grope you, or even grind against the push of your butt when you were most distracted with chores. 
You noticed something inside her had shifted, and on the other hand, she felt like a middle schooler all over again, sex occupying her mind all night, all day like a horny teenager in their puberty. Almost as if she felt the need to claim you and make you entirely hers in every possible way. But you didn't mind. No, of course, you didn't. How could you when she was fucking you so good and hard? How could you mind it when she pounded into you until the early hours of the morning? 
"So good with kids...so, so good," velvety murmurs caressed your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of intimate kisses along the length of your neck. You tilted your head, granting her even greater access to explore you. Her fiery, vibrant locks, reminiscent of autumn leaves, intertwined effortlessly with your fingers as you gently pulled her closer.
"Hmmm." A soft, muffled sound escaped your lips in response "Does that turn you on?" Your voice dropped to a hushed whisper, accompanied by a dreamy giggle that found its way to her ears, prompting a smile to grace her lips against your skin. 
"Does that turn me on?" She echoed your words with a sultry tone; her voice saturated with desire as she intentionally ground against your thigh. Your hands swiftly drew her nearer, firmly grasping her by the waist, the tips of your fingers danced suggestively along the hem of her Calvin Klein boxers. 
"I'll take that as a yes." A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you gently led her to grind against you once more, eliciting a gasp from her as your fingertips tightened on her buttocks. A delicate sigh fell from her lips, caressing you like a gentle breeze, her parched lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a tantalizing shiver down your spine. 
"You'd be such a good mama" the words seemed to slip out of her mouth without conscious thought, tangled up in the web of her own fantasies that had been tormenting her for quite some time. 
"You really think so?" Your voice was as silky as cotton, a stark contrast to the firm yet gentle grip of your hands on her hips as you guided her increasingly urgent motions against your thighs. Soft, languid moans poured against your neck, planting a trail of heated kisses along the length of your neck, her mouth working with a voracious appetite as she suckled on your sensitive skin like a starving bloodsucker, marking you. A low, sultry hum was all you received from her in response. Your nude skin pressed against her, her clad breasts grazing yours, her hardened nipples stimulating yours through the thin fabric of her black bralette.
"You should put a baby in me." 
The words seemed to halt her in her tracks. She leaned back slightly, studying your expression intently, her gaze locking with yours. A playful twinkle danced in her eyes, and a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Amusement and surprise mixed in her freckled-dusted features. "Strip." with a soft but unyieldingly firm tone, her features utterly devoid of emotion except for the subtle arch of her brows, making you break into a fit of giggles.
"Oh? just like that?" 
With fervent anticipation, you stripped off the remaining garments still clinging to your body, your eyes intensely fixated on the sight before you. The vision of her adorned in the black strap, one of the numerous items you and your wife possessed, never failed to make your pussy clench, leaving your stomach in knots. Such a luscious spectacle. And you were the lucky girl who got to witness all this. Your body sank into the plush embrace of the mattress as you watched her gracefully position herself between your legs, straddling them. With a tender squeeze of your knee, her other hand gently pressed the tip of the silicone toy against your sensitive nub, sending an electric jolt of pressure through you. The unexpected sensation, even in its softness, coaxed a squirming response from you, your hips instinctively trying to pull away.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured, the tip of her cock rubbing through your folds, her slender fingers coating and preparing her silicone dick with your slickness. She groaned softly, lost in the alluring haze of her own touch, almost as if the toy were an extension of herself  “It’s so pathetic how much of a slut you are for me.” Her actions prompted a whimper to escape your lips. 
“Fuck you, stop teasing,” you retorted, tinged with a mix of annoyance and desperation, betraying the aching desire that consumed you. The sight of your drenched and soaked pussy made Ellie almost salivate, feeling eager to destroy it and make a mess of you. She loved knowing that even after years of being together your desire for her was burning as fierce as ever. You had never once failed to make her feel wanted, and how could you when she was simply this fine?
A dry, mirthless chuckle slipped out from between her lips as a self-satisfied smirk adorned her features. The soft moonlight delicately highlighted her cheekbones, enhancing her already stunning appearance and making her seem as if she were personally blessed by the moon herself “What, can’t handle a little teasing?” she responded with a playful taunt, she felt her own arousal growing, the back of her strap dampened with her own slickness, feeling a desperate need of friction. 
“This is not teasing, you’re just being a little bitch” you pouted, your body arching eagerly as your pussy sought the sensation of her cock stretching you so amazingly. As she abruptly thrust forward, a high-pitched squeal was wrenched from your lips, and your breath caught in your throat. Her expression was a mask of amusement, witnessing your visceral reaction to her every touch, a reminder of the power she held over you.
“What were you saying? Didn't quite catch the last part,” With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she taunted you, her hands gently claiming your hips as she leaned down, her gaze taking in every angle of your contorted face.
“I said-” You attempted to speak once more, but another plunging thrust stole the breath from your lungs, leaving you speechless.
“Yeah, said what?”
“Hmmpphh.” You could feel her going deeper into you, your eyes shut close and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, arching into her, she looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, licking her lips before pressing damp kisses on your jawline and your throat, savoring all the pretty moans and whimpers you gave her. 
"So pretty," she murmured, a note of possessiveness lacing her words, "And mine. All mine." She captured your lips in a passionate and messy kiss, her tongue tangling with yours as she continued to slide in and out of you, each movement causing you to moan into the kiss, and she gladly swallowed each one of them. You had taken such meticulous care of her, preparing her meals, doing the laundry, and handling the household chores with diligence that she just felt the need to reciprocate and fuck you as you deserved. 
Such a good fucking housewife, she couldn't ask for better.
“Babe, fuuuck,” You cried out, your brows drawing together as her pace intensified. Your breath caught in your throat, and your body writhed in response. 
“Want me to get you pregnant you said, yeah?” With a strained, breathy voice, she whispered, each movement meticulously targeted to hit the exact spot inside you that made sparks fly behind your eyelids and your toes curl. You nodded eagerly, a chorus of whimpers and whines escaping your lips “Then you’ll have to take my cock as deep as you can–want you to feel it all the way up in your womb.” she grunted, pushing the strap in as deep as it could go, feeling your walls clench around it. “But you’ll be a good girl and take it, won’t you?” she purred, her lips leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your collarbone and down the valley between your breasts. Unable to form a coherent sentence, all you could manage was an enthusiastic nod in response, which was clearly not enough for her. A slap was delivered to the sensitive flesh of your thigh, causing you to squeak in surprise “Words, mama.” She demanded, completely captivated by your heavenly expressions and the bouncing of your tits. 
“Y-yes… ’ll be good,” you babbled out incoherently; the sinful sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room. Each movement, each touch perfectly calculated, your body writhing with each thrust. 
“Mmm, fucking love how you take it.” She whispered, her breath coming in shallow huffs as her tongue and teeth worked their magic on one of your sensitive nubs, drawing out strained whimpers from you. Your fingers coiled in her hair, craving the closeness and seeking an anchor in the sea of pleasure that swelled between your legs. Your cunt wrapped around her so perfectly, and she had your legs shaking like crazy—that’s how she knew you were close. 
“Gonna fill you up so good, baby.” whispering filthy promises into your ear, leaning back and burying all her length inside your womb, the tip of her fake cock rubbing your g-spot deliciously, making your eyes roll in the back of your head as she ground against the base of the strap, desperately chasing her own pleasure. 
“Need your babies, pleaseplease…cum inside me,” you whined, the words catching in your throat as you gasped for breath, wrapping your legs around her waist with an urgent need to keep her close, both of your throbbing clits grinding against the base of her strap. 
“Fuckfuck..’m coming.” Ellie’s grunts grew louder, a guttural melody that echoed in your ears. Her head arched back, the muscles in her body trembling and tensing as she slammed her dick inside you, urging you to cum with her 
“Ellie, fuuuck.” Your body rocked wildly against hers, the movement becoming erratic as the heel of your foot pressed firmly into her glutes, trapping her between your soft thighs as waves of pleasure coursed through you. Sweet and breathy mewls escaped your swollen lips, your back arching into her almost painfully.
Dr. Diaz was right after all, you just needed to try new things with your wife, explore your fantasies with her. 
Typically, she made you feel so good, and you gladly reciprocated the pleasure she gave you, but tonight, the tables had turned. She was solely fixated on making you feel loved and worshiped, determined to pull a fifth orgasm from your worn-out body. Your legs shook uncontrollably, and your core ached from the relentless onslaught of overstimulation, and she showed no signs of slowing down or stopping anytime soon. Your arms were pinned firmly behind your back, the cold, hard steel of the handcuffs digging into the delicate skin of your wrists with a biting force. You twitched and writhed involuntarily, the restrictive hold making you feel helpless and vulnerable; it was driving you insane. It was Ellie's idea, and you cursed yourself for agreeing to try something new.
“Babe, please…let me touch you.” A pathetic whine escaped your lips, quickly followed by a guttural whimper as her calloused hands skillfully controlled your every move. You were growing more desperate each second, yearning to play with those perky tits just lying there, right beneath you. They looked so lonely and neglected, it was such a shame. Rough palms find purchase on the softness of your hips, adjusting and re-adjusting your position to her liking. You struggled vainly against the cuffs, trying to squirm free, but the tight binds held strong, leaving you utterly at her mercy. You couldn’t move, and if you could, you know she wouldn’t let you. You were hers, hers to fuck and destroy like a doll. 
A mischievous grin spread across her features, a mixture of pride and amusement, knowing she was the cause of your current state, leaving you deliciously wrecked, her darkened eyes fixed on the milky white ring encircling the base of the black strap, your wetness coating her.  “Thought you said you wanted me to fuck a baby into you?” Her voice was husky and strained, the words escaping her lips in a gravelly purr that seemed to vibrate through your very core, your walls squeezing her cock almost to trap her inside.
“I do,” you choked out. “Ellie, please,” you were so fucking desperate. Ridiculously desperate to play with her nipples, touch her, perhaps wrap your hand around her neck, something that she seemed to enjoy, but what she was enjoying the most was the helpless expressions on your face as you looked down at her, pouting. You were always needy and she could easily put you in your place, but this needy? She was sure she had never seen you this desperate. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t touch her, and she was forcing you to ride her because you needed to earn ‘it.’ You needed to earn her babies, needed to earn her cum inside you. In all honesty, it was just a fucking excuse, and who could blame her? the sight of you riding her strap like a fucking pornstar with your hands handcuffed behind your back was everything, it was all she needed.
“C’mon ma, ride me like you always do. Don’t you want me to fill that pretty pussy of yours, hm?” As your hips started to move, taking her in inch by inch, a dry chuckle escaped her throat, her gaze flicking up to meet your pretty tits as they bounced in her face “Just like that…good giiirl,” the praise dripping with saccharine sweetness mingling with the slick, wet sounds of your pussy, the echoes of your moans and breathless gasps filling the room like a lewd harmony. “Needa work for it, princess,” Ellie says, her hands leaving your hips and finding a new home on your boobs; her thumbs danced across your hardened nubs, teasing and flicking them with a ruthless skill that caused you to writhe and squirm in her hands.
“Please, p-please,” you managed to croak out, begging and pleading for her to fill you up with her babies as if she could. You gasped and whined when the black tip of her strap kissed your cervix, going deeper into your womb. 
“Take every inch of it, baby,” her words flowed like liquid heat against the delicate shell of your ear as you collapsed into her embrace, completely consumed by her slow yet harsh thrusts, your eyes fluttering shut in blissful surrender. 
“Ahhhh-” you gasped helplessly.
“Gonna be such a perfect mama,” She growled, her palms eagerly squeezing your ass before delivering a sharp smack that drew a startled yelp from you. 
“Cum inside me,” you quaked into the crook of her shoulder, warm puffs of your breath caressing her freckled skin. 
“You dirty little slut, you like that, don’t you?” She let out a husky chuckle, her hand delivering another sharp spank before her firm grip found purchase on your hips, running up and down your soft skin as she guided your movements. 
“Mmmhhmmm” you adjusted your position and began to slowly bounce on her cock, ensuring her clit rubbed against the base of the toy, your movements deliberately aimed at eliciting a response from her. Your gaze locked onto the contours of her stomach, entranced by the way each muscle contracted with each painful roll of your hips, causing her breath to hitch in her throat, her chest rising and falling in sharp pants. The soft freckles scattered across her cheeks standing out vividly against the rosy hue, sweat trickled down her scarred brow, mingling with strands of baby hair that clung to her damp skin. 
“Look at your fucking—god… your fucking cunt, taking every inch of…hmmm… me” And oh, how absolutely mesmerizing she was when she was right where you wanted her. The epitome of perfection, a fantasy that surely haunted the dreams of many.
“Please, El… wanna cum with you.” You couldn't help the plaintive and slutty whine that slipped past your lips, her breath stuttered and grew ragged, and her hands, firm and sure, set a rhythm on your hips, expertly guiding you with a purpose. Her own slickness soaked the pastel blue cotton sheets beneath her. Your hazy, half-lidded eyes met hers, “Close?” Your voice came out weak and breathless as you looked down at her, your pace quickening as you ground against her desperately. She nodded frenetically; you could feel your climax approaching like a crashing wave, and you desperately bit down on your bottom lip to muffle the whimpers that threatened to escape, knowing it wouldn't be much longer before you came again. 
She steadied you with each languid roll of your hips, selfishly using you to get off. Each motion a perfect counterpoint to her own, and you could feel sweat dripping down your bare back. 
"Hmmm...I love when you're inside me" 
That was all it took. In a single fluid motion, she pulled you closer, sealing her lips against yours in a kiss that was more desperate and unhinged than any before it, coming simultaneously and swallowing every sweet sound you gave her.
Finally, as you came back down to Earth, you collapsed onto her, your handcuffed hands still immobile behind your back.
"It’s okay, pretty, I gotchu," she says, her voice raw and raspy from the intensity of her orgasm. She reached for the keys to the cuffs on the bedside table. You slowly sat up, the toy still nestling comfortably inside you, and she released your wrists from their tight embrace, allowing you to massage the sensitive, bruised skin with a tender touch. With a weary but satisfied sigh, you slowly extricate yourself from her, leaving behind a trail of your essence covering her whole length. You collapsed onto the soft sheets beside her, and she swiftly discarded the strap somewhere on the floor. You snuggled closer to her, your body molding against hers as you kissed her cheek tenderly. Her lips curled upwards in a contented smile, and she gently pulled you on top of her, holding you close in her strong embrace. 
“Did so good, princess. I love you.” She placed a gentle kiss on the crown of your head, her heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears as you lay snuggled against her bare chest. 
“I love you more,” you echoed back softly. 
"Don't forget to leave a 5 star review on the app for the ride-" you couldn't help but erupt into a fit of laughter, your body shaking softly as you gazed up at her. 
"God, you're so embarrassing." You gave her arm a playful slap, a grin still spread across your face as you both laughed together. 
"Yet you're still riding my cock." Her eyebrows arched upwards, a cocky smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. 
"Only because I have to." You rolled your eyes at her
"It’s not like you're being held at gunpoint—fuck me or I'll shoot you. Pew pew," she aimed and fired at imaginary enemies with her fingers. 
"I'm dating a fucking kid." You let out a dramatic sigh, feigning disappointment but unable to keep a smile from forming on your lips
“And that makes you a what?” She retorted sarcastically, arching a single brow at you with a smug expression on her face. 
“Okay” you replied with a deadpan, “I think it’s your bedtime,” you added in a fake serious tone, making her giggle. 
“Nooo, I wanna snuggle,” she groaned in mock protest, her lips pouting as she pulled you closer.
The two of you embraced each other, intertwining your limbs as you whispered sweet nothings to one another. The soft hum of the TV filled the air around you, and the cool night air from the open window sent chills down your spine. Both of you gently lulled into a peaceful slumber.
"This is a news flash update! We have received news of yet another fatal stabbing, this time in a local motel. A 25-year-old woman was found dead in her room, brutally stabbed to death. This is the third murder reported in the last month, causing a great deal of panic and concern amongst the town's inhabitants. Police investigations are currently underway, and residents are advised to take caution and keep their doors and windows locked at all times. Now over to our reporter on the scene for further details."
Tumblr media
Your Apartment – October 19th, 2018.
Holding Dina's baby for the first time in the hospital was an experience that felt more like signing a contract with an invisible ink pen. You hadn't realized it then, but the moment your arms cradled JJ's tiny, warm body, you became an integral part of his life and his babysitter whenever the couple was too busy or needed some peace. The trust Dina placed in you was immediate and profound, and you were the first person she called when she needed someone reliable to watch over her precious baby potato. 
And how could you ever say no? JJ was an angel wrapped in soft blankets, with eyes that sparkled with curiosity and a giggle that could melt even the hardest of hearts made of stone. Sure, he had his moments of frustration, his small fists clenching in tantrums every now and then, but those were fleeting storms in an otherwise sunny disposition. Most of the time, JJ was a remarkably well-behaved child, a rarity in the world of toddlers.
His tiny hands would reach out for you, his laughter echoing like a sweet melody in the air, filling your apartment. The way he looked at you with pure, unfiltered trust made every impromptu babysitting session feel less like an obligation and more like a cherished opportunity, something you truly enjoyed. And in all honesty, after the diner you worked at was shut, looking after JJ was something that kept you busy and distracted. And a distraction is always nice.
"I'll come pick him up at… is 11 too late?" Jesse asked tentatively, gently rocking his son in his arms. He looked down at JJ, shooting a few silly grins that made the baby gurgle with delight. 
You shook your head profusely, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "Absolutely not. You know I'm a night owl," you reminded him with a gentle smile. Your eyes softened as you extended your arms, ready to cradle the potato-shaped boy.
Jesse handed JJ over, his small weight settling comfortably against you. You could feel the warmth of his tiny body through his onesie, the baby-soft skin of his tiny hand brushing against your cheek as you adjusted him in your arms. His dad's shoulders relaxed, knowing his son was in safe hands. "Thanks, you're a lifesaver," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. You simply smiled, looking down at JJ, who was now cooing contentedly, his little hand grasping your finger with surprising strength.
"Anytime," you replied softly, feeling a swell of affection for the tiny being in your arms. His chubby cheeks and his cute tiny hands were the most adorable things in the world. Who was gonna tell Ellie that you wanted a kid now? 
“Dina really needs to rest, and I can’t be there to help because of work.” You nodded, feeling bad for the brunette, knowing she was home alone with her son most of the time.
"Tell Dina I said hi," you added as Jesse adjusted his uniform jacket. 
"Will do—Ellie's gonna get off her shift at 3 AM," he informed you, his voice tinged with fatigue but still warm, the bags under his eyes said it all; becoming a parent surely wasn’t a walk in the park.
You nodded at his words, then suddenly remembered something. "Oh wait—I almost forgot!" Your eyes widened as you turned your back, hurrying to retrieve a small bag from the kitchen. You returned to the front door, holding the bag out to Jesse, who was now leaning casually against the door frame.
"Oh! What would she do without you?" he exclaimed in a teasing manner, deep down finding the gesture sweet and thoughtful. It was endearing how you always looked after your wife, preparing her meals while she worked tirelessly at the police station, ensuring she wouldn't skip the most important part of the day and that she was well-nourished.
You chuckled at his words. "What would you do without me, actually," you corrected him with a playful smile. "Two chicken sandwiches, one for you, one for her, no tomatoes for you. There's some apples and a few chocolate bars, too,"
Jesse swiftly grabbed the paper bag from your hand and peeked inside. "You're amazing," he said with a grin on his face. "Hope JJ won't be too much trouble," he added, his chocolate eyes shifting to his son in your arms.
"I'll be fine—be careful, alright?" you warned him, your tone turning slightly serious. 
He nodded, appreciating your concern. "Always am. See you at 11," he said, turning around to walk away from your doorstep, the bag of food swinging gently at his side.
You spent the whole evening with JJ, you dedicated your time to caring for the baby boy. You carefully prepared his meal and then proceeded to give him a relaxing bubble bath, hoping the latter would make him somewhat sleepy and ready to go to bed. Little plastic ducks floating on the surface add a whimsy touch to the whole scene. Suddenly, your phone rang, breaking the peaceful atmosphere. With JJ cradled in the bathtub, you quickly reached for your phone, ensuring your free hand was dry after patting it with the folded towel placed conveniently within your reach.
“El?” 
“Hi baby,” her warm and affectionate voice flowed through the speaker; you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and joy.
A soft smile graced your lips, “Hey gorgeous,” your voice was filled with a playful tone, and the sound of Mr. Potato giggling could be heard in the background.
Her voice was husky as she asked, “How’s it going?” 
“Oh, y’know, just giving stinky-boy a bath.” The endearing nickname that escaped your lips elicited an uncontrollable, joyous laughter from the pretty boy. Despite being just a baby, his insatiable curiosity and discerning intelligence were truly impressive, definitely something he hadn’t inherited from his dad. The infectious giggle emanating from the baby brought a warm chuckle from auburnette. “How’s it going for you?” you took the chance to ask back.
“Jus’ stuck with paperwork while Jesse gets all the fun tasks.” Her dry lips parted slightly, releasing a barely audible, airy exhale. “Sucks you’re not here with me,” she added
“Sounds pretty homophobic if you ask me,” You quipped with a charming grin, though she couldn't see it. “Should be sitting on your lap right now.” Ellie let out a low sigh, her breath hitching as your words sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. You knew it didn't take much to get her worked up, and perhaps it was the memories from last night that made her even more susceptible to your tease
“Yeah. I’ll be home in four hours.” A soft huff escaped her lips, a subtle sign of her growing impatience and yearning for your touch
“I knowwww,” You drawled, switching your phone to speaker mode as you carefully lifted JJ out of the bath and wrapped him snugly in a warm, fluffy towel. Soft giggles and coos echoed through the room, “I’ll stay up for you,” you told her
“You must be tired, you should go to bed earl-” 
“No,” you adamantly insisted, your tone unyielding “I miss you”
“Miss you too,” she responded swiftly, her tone matching yours 
“See you soon?” 
“Alright, mama, I'll see you soon.” she exhaled. “The sandwich was delicious, by the way,” Ellie adds, gratitude resonating in her words
A proud grin spread across your face as you replied cockily, “You’re welcome,” savoring the compliment on your cooking skills. She had always appreciated it immensely when you cooked for her, and she never wasted a chance to lavish compliments on your culinary skills. God, if she loved you more than anything. 
“Love you.” 
“Love you.” And with that, you ended the call.
You couldn't help but gaze adoringly at the little burrito in your arms, wrapped up in a beautiful pastel blue towel. The tranquil, content expression on his face spoke volumes of his relaxed state, a peaceful lull radiating from his tiny form. “Daddy’s gonna pick you up soon, let’s get dressed, yeah?” you cooed affectionately, tracing the bridge of his little nose with your index finger, inciting a gummy grin from the cutie as he batted his long lashes at you. You retrieved the bag Jesse had left at your place a few days ago, it was crammed with everything a baby might require and a few extra outfits for JJ. You changed him into a charming giraffe-patterned pjs and wrapped him cozily in a small blanket. Just as you finished, the doorbell rang, signaling Jesse's arrival.
“Howdy!” Jesse stood at your door, visibly exhausted. Wordlessly, you gestured for him to enter the disorganized apartment. His weary eyes immediately settled on the baby in your arms, noting how JJ's eyelids appeared heavy and threatened to flutter shut at any moment. The newborn had been keeping him and Dina up for nights on end, and on top of that, his demanding job had further drained his energy. The stress was evident in his drawn features, making it clear that the past few days had taken a toll on him. 
“He was an angel,” you softly told him with a gentle smile. 
“Oh really?” his voice held a hint of amusement as he raised his brows in disbelief, marveling at how your description of JJ as a 'complete angel' contradicted his own experience. He couldn't tell if his little one was behaving so well out of genuine good nature or if you were exaggerating the truth a bit cause he could sure be a little troublemaker with him and Dina. “Glad he wasn’t much of a fuss,” he chuckled tiredly. 
“I already gave him a bath and all; he’s ready for bed,” you informed him, and he nodded in acknowledgment. 
“Thank you, y/n. I owe you one.” A weary sigh escaped his lips. “Mind if I go to the toilet real quick?” he asked. 
“No, sure. go ahead”
A subtle change in Jesse's demeanor was evident as he reappeared moments later. His eyes flickered away from yours, and a tense, forced smile adorned his face, giving the impression that something was troubling him. 
“You good?” You questioned him, carefully placing the sleeping bean in his arms to avoid waking the little one. A hint of concern tinged your voice as you attempted to discern the reason behind his anxious demeanor. He was fine just a minute ago. 
“Yeah, yeah. just tired, is all,” he responded evasively, leaving you to raise an eyebrow in skepticism, but you decided not to dwell on it.
He must be tired, you thought. 
Jesse tenderly held his son, cradling him in his strong, protective arms “Thank you again for watching over him” 
“I told you, it’s no bother, he’s such a cute kid,” You responded fondly, gently caressing the baby boy's soft, round cheek as he rested contentedly in his father's embrace. 
“Alright, have a good night,” he gave you a faint smile 
“You too, Jess.” You remained at the doorstep, leaning against it as you watched him leave, his silhouette gradually fading from sight. 
When Jesse returned home, he cautiously unlocked the front door, cradling a sleeping JJ in his arm. As he entered, his gaze fell upon Dina, softly snoring on the couch, her mouth slightly parted in peaceful slumber. He watched her for a moment, a tender smile on his lips as he appreciated the sight. Closing the door gently so as not to wake her, he approached her, his footsteps silent on the floor. Seeing her there, asleep as she had waited for him, filled him with warmth and love.
“Honey, I’m home”
Tumblr media
The Police station – October 27th, 2018.
Jesse rubbed his eyes with the rough palms of his hands, longing to be home with his family. He absorbed the animated discussions among his colleagues, who were fervently speculating about the identity of the elusive killer. With no substantial evidence to support their theories, their efforts felt akin to chasing a phantom. The killer had a remarkable ability to erase all traces, executing each action with meticulous precision.
“What if he's not left-handed and is good with both hands?” As one of the individuals engaged in the discussion took a contemplative sip of his steaming coffee, Jesse's gaze meandered over to the clock adorning the pristine white brick wall.
2:26 AM.
He should be home, in his bed.
He continued to endure the ceaseless barrage of hypothetical scenarios conjured up by his colleagues. Normally, they wouldn't have been included in such sensitive investigations, but they were frustrated and exhausted from pursuing an elusive individual who appeared to never make any mistakes. There had to be something, but no. No fucking slip-ups. 
“The slit starts from right to left, meaning he slayed the first victim—Vanessa—using his left hand,” The woman in her forties leaned back in her swivel office chair, gesturing towards the raw pictures they had taken of the first victim as she explained the details to her coworker. 
“Yeah, but it doesn’t add up—Giselle Caddel,” he countered by swiftly sifting through additional files and photographs to substantiate his theory. “See? Left to right.” he softly tapped his index finger on the images and the text printed on the pages that held every necessary information.
The woman let out a frustrated sigh and absentmindedly hummed to herself as she examined the pictures and the papers for the millionth time “Okay, maybe he is dominant with both hands,” she conceded, agreeing with his hypothesis. But again, it didn't make sense how the third victim had been brutalized, shot with an unknown weapon, leaving them with more questions than answers. The lack of registration for the gun only deepened the mystery, leaving them lost on how to proceed.
“Why do we assume we're going after a guy?” Jesse suddenly spoke up, drawing puzzled looks from all his colleagues, who had nearly forgotten he was even there. They gazed at him with a mixture of confusion and surprise, unsure if they had just heard something absurd or brilliant. He couldn't discern the thoughts racing through their minds. But he couldn't help but wonder… was it truly inconceivable for a woman to be capable of committing such a brutal act of violence?
“What are you implying?” dirty blonde brows arched inquisitively, crossing her arms over her chest. 
“What if it’s a woman we should be looking for?” he elaborated 
“A woman?” She responded with a mix of surprise and mock disbelief, her voice laced with a hint of humor. “Everyone claims they’ve seen a man at each crime scene before the murders occurred,” 
“But they’ve never seen ‘his’ face, have they?” He replied with heavy sarcasm, making air quotes while emphasizing the word 'his.'
“Ma’am, we don’t have proof that it is a man,” another coworker pondered the situation and concurred with Jesse's theory.
“He’s too brutal, too raw, too strong. A woman can’t be that strong,” she stated, still skeptical. The detective's thoughts raced through possible motives for the brutal murders. It was difficult to fathom how the female perpetrator could commit such heinous crimes without any apparent remorse. Could there be a common connection between the victims, such as… a shared romantic history with the same individual? The officer's mind was filled with questions, struggling to understand the motivations behind the cold-hearted acts. she pondered, the sinister theory making her stomach turn uncomfortably.
“Adrenaline has that effect on everyone,” he stood his ground, refusing to back down from his idea. The room went silent as the towering blonde woman abruptly stood, drawing a deep breath of air into her lungs. 
“You might be onto something,” she declared firmly, her voice carrying a hint of authority. Without further elaboration, she turned and strode out of the investigation room, leaving the officers to grapple with the weight of her words.
He leaned back, feeling the tension ease slightly as she disappeared from view. Perhaps, just perhaps, they were finally on the right track. But even then, uncertainty lingered in the air. They needed tangible evidence, something concrete to confirm their suspicions.
Tumblr media
Jesse’s House – November 6th, 2018.
The chill of the night still lingered in the air as Jesse's eyes snapped open, his breath quickening as remnants of a brutal nightmare clung to his consciousness. A sense of disorientation washed over him, but he quickly gathered his bearings, the familiar sights of his surroundings grounding him back to reality.
He was home, he was safe. He mentally reassured himself
Turning his head ever so slightly, he beheld the tranquil scene before him. Dina lay peacefully beside him, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm, a serene expression adorning her sleeping face. JJ, nestled between them, let out a soft snore, blissfully unaware of the world around him, tiny hands curled into fists.
With utmost care, Jesse shifted, his movements slow and deliberate as he extracted himself from the warmth of the duvet. The soft material whispered against his skin, a comforting presence in the quiet of the night. As he sat up, a sense of protectiveness washed over him, a silent vow to safeguard the fragile tranquility of the moment. Every rustle of fabric, every creak of the bed frame was muffled by the hush of the night, a sacred stillness enveloping the room like a cocoon. Jesse's gaze lingered on the precious sight before him, the love he felt for his family swelling within his chest; he felt so grateful for them, he would've done anything for them.
He lovingly tucked his wife into bed, her arm instinctively reaching for him in her sleep, seeking the warmth of his presence as it slowly slipped away. Jesse quietly padded to the kitchen, the soft sound of his footsteps barely audible in the stillness of the night. Glancing at the clock, he noticed the time and let out an exhausted sigh, the back of his hand moving to wipe the beads of sweat from his forehead. Opening the cupboards, he reached for a glass, the cool touch of it bringing a sense of relief as he filled it with fresh water, his mouth feeling as dry as the Sahara desert.
It was only 4 AM.
He quickly downed the glass of water, the cool liquid quenching his thirst, before placing it on the granite countertop. This was his usual routine. He was fortunate if he managed to get four hours of sleep, but more often than not, it was only three before he would wake up, haunted by vivid nightmares of the killer, unable to fall back asleep. 
As he strolled his way to the living room, he couldn’t help but notice the pillows strewn across the floor and JJ’s countless plush toys scattered in every corner. Dina had a habit of showering JJ with toys, much to Jesse’s bemusement. He didn't need all those toys; a few were sufficient, and most of them were left unused. There was one particular elephant plush that caught the baby boy's attention. He seemed to be incredibly attached to it, never leaving it alone, carrying it around everywhere, and if he ever misplaced it, he would throw a tantrum until Dina found it.
The living room bore silent witness to their daily chaos. JJ’s little kingdom, with plush animals ranging from lions to bears, was a vibrant display of color against the muted tones of the furniture. Jesse picked up a few toys, absentmindedly placing them back in their basket. 
He sank into the worn, stained couch, feeling the dampness of the fabric from the water JJ had accidentally spilled earlier. The gentle, barely perceptible hum of the refrigerator filled the air, creating a soothing backdrop to the faint sounds of the city beginning to stir from its slumber. He leaned back, his thoughts drifting. Those were the moments when his mind just wouldn't stop buzzing with thoughts. The relentless pursuit of a cunning killer had started to weigh heavily on his mind, leaving him feeling utterly powerless. 
He felt like he was letting everyone down–his family, Dina. It absolutely infuriated him that he couldn't do more to protect them. Especially now that JJ had arrived, his paternal instincts seemed to kick in and his desire to protect his family had intensified, amplifying the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He let his eyes drift aimlessly around the room until they settled on his laptop resting on the scarred coffee table. It was at that moment that a sudden realization popped into his mind.
The missing hard disk.
Jesse’s mind raced as he remembered that day, the rush of events blending together in a haze. He had been at your place and gone to the toilet when he spotted the hard disk tucked away on a shelf. Something about it had struck him as odd. It wasn’t just any brand; it was the exact match to the equipment used at the crime scene. His heart skipped a beat when he realized the potential importance of what he had stumbled upon. He was sure it was just a coincidence 'cause why would you have it? Why would you be possibly hiding it? 
It didn't make sense.
He wasn’t proud of slipping it into his pocket, a pang of guilt gnawing at him for doubting you even for a second and for stealing from you. But his instincts told him it was something worth looking into. Now, as he sat there on the couch, the memory of that discovery resurfaced with a new urgency. Something seemed to scream at him to check it, go through all the files, if it had any. So, he got up to grab it from his desk drawers in the small room that Dina had turned into a cozy office just for her husband. It was his own little space, off-limits to everyone else.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard, the late-night quiet amplifying the soft clicks as he navigated through files. His hands slightly trembled as he connected the drive to the laptop. The screen flickered to life, and he began sifting through its contents. The hard disk had been gathering dust in his desk drawer for weeks, forgotten in the whirlwind of everyday life. But now, the potential it held was too significant to ignore. What secrets did it hold? What answers might it provide in the tangled web of this investigation?
With a deep breath, he clicked on the first file, hoping it would shine a light on the darkness they had been chasing for so long.
The last files were recorded the same day of the murder.
Jackpot.
He eagerly clicked on the very last file, skipping through a few hours, fast-forwarding past the mundane bustle of customers and staff. His eyes were glued to the timestamp, searching for the crucial moment. The diner’s atmosphere, usually so lively, felt eerie and heavy through the security camera's lens as if it held its breath for the impending doom.
Minutes ticked by in a blur of motion, the clock on the screen edging closer to the time he knew everything changed. Jesse’s fingers ghosted over the keys, ready to pause at any sign of something unusual. The familiar faces of regulars came and went, oblivious to the dark shadow about to come.
And then, there it was. The whole truth.
He watched the video, his eyes never leaving your grainy silhouette. The footage played out silently, no audio, no nothing. He saw the woman with the kid leave the diner, and Vanessa picking up the tip from the table as you stayed behind the counter. His heart pounded in his chest, the anticipation gnawing at him.
Moments later, the mysterious man walked in, his face obscured by a hood, just as you had described. Jesse's pulse quickened, a sense of foreboding creeping up his spine, "There he is..." he mumbled to himself. The man's movements were deliberate, his presence unsettling even through the grainy footage. 
When the man left, Jesse's focus shifted back to Vanessa as she walked into the back room. You swiftly made your way to the front door, turning the sign to ‘closed’ and locking the doors with a practiced motion. His eyes followed you intensely as you walked back behind the counter, your actions precise and unwavering.
There was something almost poetic in the way you moved, a quiet determination that made his breath hitch. He watched as you retrieved a knife, the gleaming blade catching the dim light of the diner. With a sense of purpose, you followed Vanessa into the back room.
"No, no, no, no," he kept whispering over and over again, like some sort of prayer.
Jesse's mind raced, the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming together—it all felt surreal, as if he were watching a scene from a movie rather than real life. 
The footage left him cold and shaking to the core. He felt a knot in his stomach. How could the woman he once knew as a kind-hearted soul be a serial killer? How could he have trusted a killer, a psychopath, all along? Fear rippled through his veins as he realized the danger he had exposed his son and wife to. He knew he had to act to bring this evidence to his team, but he needed to get Ellie first.
She needed to get out of that goddamn house immediately.
Without a moment to spare, he grabbed his jacket and his gun and swiftly left his home. He then drove hastily to Ellie's place, frantically calling her repeatedly, but she never picked up even though he was sure she was off her shift and definitely home.
“Ellie? Fuck, Ellie, answer your fucking phone! You home yet? You need to get out of there, man. Pleas-” His voice quivered, his clammy hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. His nerves were palpable as fear and anxiety coursed through his veins
“Please, if you’re listening to this, get out of that fucking house, don’t tell y/n anything. She’s not who you think she is. She is extremely dangerous. Call me ba-” Jesse's frustration heightened as the beep signified the end of the voicemail, “FUCK” he shouted, slamming his hand onto the steering wheel. 
Tumblr media
Your Apartment, 5:06 AM – November 6th, 2018.
When he finally arrived at the apartment building, he quickly bounded towards the door, rapping against it frantically. Ellie opened the door, a puzzled expression on her face. Jesse sighed, relief washing over him as he saw Ellie safe and sound.
“My fucking god, are you–are you alright?” his tone was agitated as he spoke, though Ellie appeared confused, chuckling softly in response. 
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, scarred brows arched in confusion as she struggled to comprehend the reason behind her friend's agitated demeanor, making an unexpected appearance at her doorstep at such an ungodly hour 
“Look, we gotta go, you’re not safe” He urgently grabbed her arm, attempting to forcefully pull her out of her house but she was quick to snatch her arm away from his grasp, her annoyance evident.
Surprise, concern, and annoyance colored Ellie's face as she exclaimed,  “What’s gotten into you, dude?” 
Your wife is a serial killer, he wanted to shout at her, exposing you for the monster you were, but he knew better. He knew that Ellie would struggle to believe him if he presented it bluntly, attacking what she cared about the most, so he needed to tread carefully and it felt like walking on legos, not even eggshells. He couldn’t risk Ellie getting mad at him or, even worse–shutting the door in his face. If something happened to her, the guilt would haunt him forever. 
“You have an idea of what time it is?” Her emeralds darted towards the clock on the living room wall for a brief second—nearly 5 am.
“Look, we don’t have time for-” he began to speak, suddenly struck silent as his friend turned around for a fleeting moment “Is y/n home?” He inquired with a concerned expression, his complexion noticeably paler than usual. His hands trembled as he nervously peered over Ellie's shoulder, desperate to catch a glimpse of you, but the auburnette blocked his way, shaking her head. 
“No, why?” Her voice was calm and composed, a stark contrast to his agitated and tumultuous tone 
“I’ve been calling you, where the fuck is your phone?” 
“It died,” she responded curtly, running her fingers through her hair, a thoughtful expression crossing her face, lips pressing together. “Wanna explain to me what the fuck are you on?” her hands were firmly placed on her hips; her attentive eyes fixated on Jesse's agitated state—the furrowed brows, clenched fists, and the restlessness emanating from him. Pretty unusual.
“We need to go; I’ll explain everything on the way,” his voice tinged with a mix of desperation and urgency that Ellie had never heard from him. He tugged at her sweatshirt, but she didn't budge, retreating a step backward, distancing herself from him. She let out a deep sigh before reluctantly acquiescing to his request. 
“Let me get my stuff first,” she said, disappearing inside, leaving his restless figure waiting on the doorstep.
He waited and waited and waited, the minutes stretching into what felt like an eternity. With each passing second, a gnawing sense of unease began to take hold. "Ellie?" he called out impatiently, his voice slicing through the silence, but there was no response.
"Ellie?" he tried again, louder this time, the name echoing eerily through the empty apartment. Still nothing. He let out a shaky exhale, feeling the tension coil tighter in his chest. His hand hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open wider, revealing more of the still and silent space. "Fuck," he mumbled under his breath, his pulse quickening. Reaching for his gun, he stepped inside cautiously, every sense on high alert.
The living room was eerily quiet, devoid of any signs of life. He moved through it slowly, each step deliberate and measured. His eyes scanned the room, searching for any clue, any hint of where his friend might be. Nothing. His gaze flickering to the pictures hanging on the wall, captured moments of joy and celebration, memories of your wedding day, now seeming almost like relics from another lifetime. 
“...Ellie?” he called out again, his voice softer now, almost a plea. The word hung in the air, unanswered, as he continued his careful sweep of the apartment. He checked the kitchen and the bathroom—his mind raced with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. It was as if Ellie had simply vanished into thin air. His grip tightened on the gun, the cold metal reassuring in his hand, the silence almost oppressive, pressing in on him from all sides.
Just as he made his way back to the living room, standing in the center of the room, trying to think clearly, a loud thump reverberated through the hallway, and before he could react, his body crumpled to the floor. Lifeless. Blood began to pool beneath him, a dark and viscous river flowing from the neat, round hole between his eyes. 
Tumblr media
You were humming a soft tune as you turned off the water, stepping out of the box shower and reaching for the towel hung nearby. The bathroom air was cool, and the contrast with your damp skin made you shiver, goosebumps rising in a wave across your arms and legs. A sharp hiss escaped your lips as the chill settled in.
You froze momentarily, ears perking up when you heard the unmistakable sound of the door shutting loudly from the living room. It wasn’t a sound you were expecting, and a flicker of unease sparked in your chest. 
Did she leave the house without telling you? 
Quickly, you wrapped the towel around your body, the soft fabric absorbing the droplets that still clung to your skin. You could feel them running in rivulets, leaving trails down your back and legs.
Leaving the bathroom, your bare feet left wet footsteps on the floor, as you made your way towards the living room, you began to hear strange, muffled noises—something between a rustle and a low murmur. Your heartbeat quickened, thudding loudly in your ears. The apartment was usually a sanctuary, but now it felt different, charged with an unfamiliar tension.
“El?” you called out, your voice tentative as it broke the silence. You listened intently, but heavy silence was all you got in response.
It was only when you stood by the doorframe of the living room that you saw her knelt down on the floor. You found yourself unable to move, every muscle tensed as if you were being turned to stone by the piercing gaze of Medusa herself. Her eyes were ice cold, piercing right through you, as Jesse's body lay lifeless at her feet. The sight of his still form and the pool of blood around him made your stomach churn.
Ellie stood abruptly, her movement sudden and jarring. Your smooth forehead creased into a furrow, the lines forming a delicate map of concern, both of you staring at each other without daring to say a word. The silence stretched out, thick and suffocating, each heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears. Your grip tightened on the towel, knuckles white with tension, as you stepped forward 
“Right on the fucking rug?!” you burst out, your voice raising slightly. Ellie winced, the sharpness of your tone cutting through the tension. 
“Baby, I’m sor—” she began, but you harshly cut her off, marching closer to her, careful not to step on the warm crimson liquid staining the fluffy white rug. 
“You better fucking scrub that shit clean,” you snapped, pointing your finger at her, eyes narrowing. Your gaze shifted to the lifeless body of Jesse, lying awkwardly with a dark, spreading pool beneath him. 
Despite the gruesome sight, you felt a strange calm; you knew there was a reason behind her actions; there always was. And you trusted her to death, so no questions were asked, the only thing that bothered you was the thought of having to throw away your favorite carpet of the house.
Ellie nodded vigorously at your demand, her face a mask of determination. You could see the guilt and resolve warring in her eyes, but you knew she would handle it. 
“Look,” she mumbled, her voice steady as she knelt down, reaching into Jesse’s jeans pocket. She pulled out a small hard drive, leaving bloody fingerprints on it. 
“Ah shit,” you cursed, snatching it from her stained hands. The tiny data storage device felt deceptively light in your palm, its importance weighing heavily on your mind. “Wonder when he stole it,” you mumbled, turning the hard drive over, examining it closely. 
“He had always been a sneaky little bitch,” she hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. She kicked his thigh, her pretty features scrunched up in anger. The casual violence of the gesture made your skin crawl, but you couldn’t deny the truth in her words. Jesse had been a liability, a snake in the grass.
“Do you think he told anyone else?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Fear flickered in your eyes, the thought of getting caught sending a wave of nausea through you. You couldn’t risk that; no, no, you couldn’t.
Ellie shook her head, reassuring you, “he came here as soon as he found out—left a bunch of voicemails,” she explained. You exhaled slowly, a weight lifting from your shoulders. Relief washed over you; no one else would find out. The bond between you felt stronger than ever. She had always been there for you, protecting you no matter what, hiding evidence you clumsily left behind. 
You stood by her side, looking down at the mess she had made. The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. Both of you were lost in your own worlds, your thoughts racing in different directions, her mind already strategizing the next steps while your own thoughts swirled in another direction.
“I really want a baby” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop them, a soft pout forming on your lips. She turned towards you, her face breaking into a brilliant smile that illuminated the dimly lit room. 
At that moment, her emerald eyes shimmered with a newfound glimmer, a blend of delight and astonishment that took your breath away, feeling a fluttering in her stomach. “Fuck- are you forreal?” 
You nod your head slightly, unable to contain the matching smile that formed on your own lips “Yes, I thought abou-” you started to explain, but before you could finish, bloody hands moved in a swift motion, pulling you closer by the waist. 
Her lips pressed against yours, the kiss urgent and full of emotion. You melted into her embrace, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her even closer. Your fingers tangled in her ember-hued locks, the softness of her hair contrasting with the gritty reality of the moment. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the overwhelming sense of connection and the shared excitement of a future you both wanted. Ellie's grip on your waist tightened, her hands staining the pink fabric of the towel still wrapped around your body.
When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, you rested your forehead against hers. The room around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared dreams and possibilities.
No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be
The only one for me is you, and you for me
So happy together-
"Alexa, shut it," you commanded, pulling a giggle out of Ellie, her cheeks heating up with a pink hue that only added to her beauty. Your thumb gently stroked her cheekbone, and her slender fingers reached out to teasingly play with the towel still clinging to your body, their silken touch sending a shiver down your spine as they danced along the contours of the soft fabric. 
"I was thinking…" she began slowly and sultrily, a mischievous smirk adorning her face, "How about we keep tryin’ for that baby?" Her tone was innocent, almost as if she were asking you to play a simple game of cards.
"You spoke my mind," you replied, pressing a quick peck on her smirk. Her hands quickly moved down to your butt, making you jump in her arms and wrap your legs around her waist. 
Your soft giggle was interrupted by her lips once again, kissing you passionately, and her hands, strong yet tender, held you securely. You could feel the warmth of her body through the thin fabric and the cool air of the room contrasting deliciously with your heated skin, making you shiver. Her lips moved with an urgency that matched your own, she was starved, she needed more.
You pulled back for a breath, your foreheads resting together. Her eyes, filled with love and desire, searched yours. "I love you," she whispered, her voice husky with emotion.
You smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I love you more."
With a shared laugh, she carried you towards the bedroom, your bodies intertwined and hearts beating in unison, falling in love with each other all over again. 
No one would ever come between you, and no one would ever know what had happened here. Ellie had your back, and you had hers. Always.
I can't see me lovin' nobody but you
For all my life
Tumblr media
taglist: @aouiaa
535 notes · View notes
fizzie-frog · 9 hours
Text
You know, the Stolitz scene was a trainwreck as a whole (they usually are), but what honestly got me most was the way Blitz started pleading when he thought his livelihood was going to be taken away.
THIS IS NOT A STOLAS SLANDER POST. I'm coming from a place where I've seen Blitz being mostly, if not entirely blamed for their lack of communication most of the time.
Moving on...
People keep going like "Well if imps are so low in the hierarchy..." - Let's take a break to think. Blitz isn't rich, he's just getting by really. And how is he getting by?
By prostituting himself. To the upper class.
That's what it is, he's a certified whxre. Things may have evolved in the meantime, but that's how it started. Blitz got asked for the deal while being chased by a crazy lady and him, wanting to keep his business and livelihood, said yes, obviously.
Now Stolas was suddenly taking the book back with no apparent explanation (until they got to the crystal), so of course Blitz thought he was doomed. On a side note, why couldn't Stolas say "You won't need the book, I have an alternative" instead of the ominous "I'll need the book back, permanently. I have made up my mind." I would be scared out of my mind.
He teared up immediately and started pleading, you could already see what was going through his head. He won't have the means to support his business anymore, to pay his employees, to afford a home, he'll be homeless and have no means to take care of Loona. Everyone will leave him again and he will starve on the streets all alone.
Tumblr media
He'd do anything to be able to live a life a bit better than miserable, of course he would.
And this brings me to Stolas's treatment of Blitz. I see that everything tends to fall on Blitz, and I'm not saying he has no fault (in fact I didn't even like him at the beginning of the series too much), but Stolas treated him like a peasant. Just the episode before Ozzie's he's called him his "impish little plaything" and asked for a reward for the rescue. He put out cigarettes on his horns, he ignored his "stop" most times, he addressed him in this little baby voice with babying diminutives. "Itty bitty" imp.
Tumblr media
And I am sure Stolas is socially clueless. He was brought up alone and sheltered, taught to be a prince first and foremost.
Tumblr media
Stolas probably saw this as playful banter, as something that is inoffensive, silly. It was only in the Ozzie's episode that he finally saw that actually, his silly play served to make Blitz feel smaller.
Tumblr media
And of course in this scenario, Blitz would see this coming out of the nether. He reacted quite badly, but why would this prince be actually in love with him? As he said, he needed to have a minute (or several) to think about everything. They needed to talk this out, and Blitz was about to apologize when Stolas cast him out.
Tumblr media
They were both emotionally charged. They fucked up. But I can see Blitz's side. And the power imbalance is so evident, that hierarchy that everyone keeps saying is irrelevant - in a moment's notice, he could have his life swept from underneath him. Just like he thought it happened in that split moment; it worried him so much that he cried and pleaded (and that's not in Blitz's character to do).
And then he was so scared of not being enough too, ugh, his little "I can always do better!". He's so used to everyone just seeing him as a lost cause, better to be discarded. With this amalgamation of things, no wonder he can't believe Stolas would have feelings for him.
Tumblr media
So uh, I don't know what the conclusion to this is. Normalize getting imps some actual comfort? So far the only really privileged imp in Helluva Boss is Fizz after getting rid of Mammon. And when I say priviledged, I'm referring to wealth and upper class, not taking into account personal issues such as disability and so forth.
Anyway, this was my two cents on Stolitz. I honestly haven't thought too much on them, I'm riding on the Fizzarolli high. I'm chill over here in my Fizzmodeus bubble, but doesn't mean I have no thoughts on Stolitz.
136 notes · View notes
class1akids · 2 days
Note
Your posts made me appreciate Shoto again because it seems like he's the only kid who went in with a solid plan about how he wanted to deal with his brother without killing him and made an entire special move to help with that plan and even talked about wanting to know his favorite food. Ochako and Deku really did seem to be just winging it, and Deku was even worse because he only cared about the crying child inside Shigaraki. It's like if Shoto only ever cared about his brothers 12 year old self and not the adult burn victim in front of him.
Thanks! I'm really glad if I can manage to spread some Shouto-appreciation. I think he's way underrated both in-verse and in-fandom for how committed he was to saving Touya.
Maybe because they didn't "talk" so much in the sense like Ochako and Toga did, but their fight was framed in the context of ultimate moves and specifically flashfire being the horrible, violent language they were both were trained in.
Shouto took that "language" that Endeavor imposed on them and quite literally reinvented his quirk based on his heart to be able to stop Touya's fire in the right way. And he did work on that move before the battle, going into the fight with the conviction that "he is me" and clearly worried about Dabi wrecking his own body.
And the way Shouto reinterpreted flashfire was the exact opposite as what Endeavor wanted them to do / to be, the way he was there when Endeavor wasn't, the way he prioritized Touya when Endeavor once again didn't - I think it's the type of "actions speak louder" way of communication that fits Shouto so well.
And since Touya copied Phosphor, I think at least on some level he must have understood what Shouto chose to do there and why and it connects to how he was capable of perceiving Shouto in the end not as some kind of masterpiece monster born to dethrone him but as a part of the family, a brother.
And I also appreciate that Shouto never made his saving conditional on whether he was facing Dabi or Touya. His priority was to try to stop him from burning himself and others up - because in Shouto's mind everyone can change, even the worst monsters.
I find it incredibly sad that because Endeavor was kept alive, Shouto wasn't enough for Touya - they needed a second resolution with Endeavor. I wish we could have seen the original ending - the one planned when Endeavor was set to die in the PLF War Arc.
I won't be happy if the Todoroki family plot ends with Touya dying offscreen or if he doesn't have at least a moment of more direct connection with Shouto. But I also don't trust Horikoshi that he won't make this into all a trophy / reward for Endeavor. In my mind, he really overplays the redemption arcs and overcompensates the characters for their change.
Anyways, while Shouto's endgame is far from perfect, I do appreciate that Phosphor was a really solid move for him, narratively bringing things together and he never strayed into that preachy, hypocrite territory Deku did.
But with Horikoshi ruining or ignoring so much of his own set-up, I'm really worried if he'll just assassinate Shouto's character too now in the last few chapters.
106 notes · View notes
thecurioustale · 3 days
Text
My Thoughts on Jenny Nicholson and the Star Wars Hotel
I watched Jenny Nicholson's four-hour "The Spectacular Failure of the Star Wars Hotel" video essay that YouTube showed me recently but which till now I couldn't bring myself to construct a day around. She's in great form here, and I'm pleased to say I go back as a fan of her work all the way to her Friendship Is Witchcraft days. (Blows my mind that she voiced all Mane Six characters, and others, so well.)
Anyway, long story short, Disney built a Star Wars hotel at Disneyworld in 2022 that was themed as a voyage on a spaceship, then proceeded to charge thousands of dollars per person per night, the most expensive publicly-available Disney theme park hotel experience by miles and miles, and then closed the hotel in 2023 after having spent hundreds of millions of dollars. Jenny went into the experience as a member of the core target demographic and spent four hours talking about all the ways it was an underwhelming or outright disappointing experience.
Her video reminded me of Hasbro's own misadventures in corporate greed with Magic: The Gathering, which has suffered in recent years from price increases, disengagement from the fan community, and a huge proliferation of product spam—i.e. more products overall, more ways to buy a given product (e.g., the proliferation of different boxes, which eventually killed the original draft booster box that had powered Magic for 30 years), and more variants of individual cards within and between products.
Hasbro and Disney are very similar in the economic space they operate in, and also utilize similar business strategies. Disney is essentially the S-tier megacorporation to Hasbro's B-tier, and we have seen many of the same corporate trends play out in both companies.
When it comes to Disney theme parks, they have massively increased ticket prices over the years, well beyond the rate of inflation, and have also implemented advance-scheduling systems for faster access to rides that has made the process of exploring a Disney theme park much less spontaneous and a lot more regimented and stressful.
Disney realized, years ago, that their limited number of theme parks—they only really have two, not counting the various sub-parks: Disneyland on the West Coast and Disneyworld on the East Coast—together with Disney's entrenched status as a cultural icon with lots of goodwill and brand recognition among the public, are vastly underserving public demand, allowing them to inflate the price of a single trip almost arbitrarily, well into the four digits—or even the five-digits if you're taking the family and spending several days.
The Star Wars hotel was Disney's "Magic 30": a product so ludicrously expensive as to incur immediate and universal condemnation by their own fans. It's clear to me what Disney was doing: They'd happily turned the conventional price knob up and up and up for years. Now they wanted to experiment with a fundamentally more expensive product class, basically five to ten times more expensive. They wanted to see if the market could support it. Because the growing disparity of wealth in America, together with America's obscene wealth as a nation relative to the rest of the world, means that it's definitely possible: There are definitely millions of people out there who could book a stay at the Star Wars hotel if they wanted to. And Disney was like "Let's see if they will."
And you know what? I think it could have succeeded. Because there really is an obscene excess of wealth in this country, even though most of us don't have any access to it. And we are a culture whose zeitgeist is ever ravenous for the next big, flashy experience.
But instead the venture failed spectacularly. Why? Because such reckless corporate greed is, itself, usually a sign of deep organizational rot and incompetency among the board and executive leadership. In other words, their hotel failed for the same reason they tried building it in the first place: Disney has grown stupid.
The way it failed, going by Jenny's video, is down to two independent reasons:
An outrageous degree of "penny-wise, pound foolish" thinking;
A fundamental failure to anticipate the comfort and pleasure of the guest.
The former is the more obvious of the two, and what really stood out to me as emblematic of it in this whole boondoggle were two simple thing: 1) The hotel rooms didn't have complimentary Disney+; and 2) the free loaner umbrellas for hotel guests visiting the Star Wars Land in Disneyworld were either so worn-out or so shoddy to begin with that, unless it was a big coincidence, both Jenny's and Jenny's sister's umbrella failed while in use. This was in the context of Disneyworld's most expensive customer experience ever, by a lot, and Disney was nickel-and-diming them. Jenny's video goes into a great depth of detail on the dozens if not hundreds of corners they cut; it was basically everything but the food. The result was an antagonistic relationship between Disney and their hotel guests where almost everything interesting cost more money (usually a lot more money) while almost everything included in the main ticket price was of cheap quality or stingy in its allotment. Every aspect of the whole process, from the scammy vibes of booking a room in the first place, to the pathetic after-care for customers who reported a problem after their stay, was likely to leave a sour taste in the customer's mouth.
When you're paying the most expensive prices in the history of a product category, you really just need to be given an up-front price that includes all or nearly all of it. You'll know what you're in for, and you can make an informed decision, and then it's really just down to the host to provide an experience and level of service that matches those high dollar outlays. But instead, as Jenny pointed out, it's like you're dealing with Spirit Airlines, where you're gonna pay a fee for literally everything beyond sitting your body quietly on the airplane.
Mind-boggling hubris. Disney needs to be broken up for the monopoly that it is, and this is just one more example of how convinced of their own inevitability and supremacy Disney has become.
The other main failure on Disney's part is the subtler one.
Jenny focused on how the Star Wars themed choose-your-own-adventure game, which was at the heart of the hotels' central conceit of "live your own personal Star Wars story," was irreparably dysfunctional. Not only was the app, through which most of the "experience" was conveyed, horribly designed; and not only were the tasks delivered through this app mostly busywork to anyone other than young children, consisting of little more than walking around and scanning inanimate objects; but the storyline's entry points and decision points were completely impenetrable through reasonable means, to the point of seeming arbitrary. Jenny proactively tried and failed to get into her preferred storyline; then tried and failed to get into any storyline; then was automatically sorted into one the next morning; and ultimately ended up having only one (dubiously) interactive story experience over the whole weekend.
She talked about how the tightly-regimented and incredibly full schedule was so mentally and physically draining that on the final night she fled her dinner table fearing she would vomit and had to stand in her hotel room staring at herself in the mirror for a while, to understand her illness (which turned out to be stress-induced exhaustion) and center herself.
She talked about how she didn't get to see a much-coveted music show during dinner on her first night because she was seated behind a giant column.
Really, these things are manifestations of the larger and more fundamental failure on Disney's part to anticipate the comfort and pleasure of the guest, as I put it.
As I was watching her video, two thoughts came to me in this vein:
First was that this whole experience really needed to be "playtested," as we might say in Magic. I mean, I'm sure there nominally was, but whatever playtesting they did was completely ineffective. Good playtesting would have brought most of these issues to light.
Second was that the Disney of today has completely lost touch with the namesake of their industry: hospitality. This would never have happened at a new luxury resort by an established world-class hotelier a century ago. Because they understood the basics. Little things, like hot towels.
I could tell just from Jenny's video that this whole hotel was decided from the top-down by soulless, disconnected corporate suits who blatantly disregarded whatever good suggestions I'm sure the Imagineers® came up with. For the failures to be as expansive and ubiquitous as Jenny's video documented, no doubt the institutional rot extends down at least as far as the project manager level, if not down to individual Imagineers® and beyond, but there have to be at least some good ones, and clearly they were overruled early and often. Whenever Disney's leadership was faced with a decision between anticipating the comfort and pleasure of the guest, and saving a couple bucks on a guest who was literally laying out several thousands of dollars to be there, leadership chose the latter.
They were so arrogant that they believed, without noticing or questioning it (unless Disney's leadership is in fact cartoon evil), that they would tell the customer what constitutes a good experience, and the customer would pay top dollar for it. And so you get a guest experience where customers who are actively trying to pick a given storyline can't get any storyline and are later seated for the dinner show behind a giant fucking column.
It's sad, and we should all be glad that their hotel failed. Not that Disney is likely to learn the right lessons from their failure, but the long-term solution here is for leisure dollars to be directed toward other companies. For the several thousand bucks that Jenny paid, she could have had a true luxury vacation in most parts of the world—and for longer than two nights.
One thing that I noticed during the four hours of her video was that Disney, or at least the people in charge of developing this hotel, didn't seem to understand what constitutes an enjoyable story experience. I am forgiving of the low level of complexity in the various puzzles, since the public is famously stupid plus a lot of these guests are going to be children. But there was so little imagination in the actual plot beats: Chewie sneaks in, gets arrested, and busts out. You get to help some Resistance fighters smuggle their luggage. Like, it's insipid. I mean, ultimately, most pop storytelling is insipid, but what I mean is that the dressings were insipid too. Dressing a story up is what makes stories great, at least at the mainstream level. There was no pomp and flourish; no clever interweaving; no electric events that put people on the edge of their seats. Just walking around on your phone for two days scanning crates and occasionally being in the same room while somebody busts Chewie out of the clink—assuming you even make it to the story events in time, since they often fired early.
The whole thing smacks of rule by committee, too many cooks, and suits suits suits all the way down.
I think it's a sign of the times that this is happening. We are once again in Robber-Baron territory in this land. The big corporations and the oligarchs who run them have become so obscenely rich and so utterly disconnected from ordinary life, and their corporate cultures have become so masturbatory and so officious, that they are increasingly creating products for idealized, phantom audiences. They increasingly don't understand real people or real life.
And we can and should bring the weight of the government down on them, more to break up monopolies and allow new and established competitors to seriously challenge them than to actively punish these companies for making money, but even more so we just need to spend our dollars elsewhere. I mean, I'm speaking hypothetically here; I am poor so none of this even applies to me in the first place.
Hence why, even after inflation, this is still just my two cents.
89 notes · View notes
Note
heya, in regards to that ask requesting intersex/hermaphroditic animals for pride month to weed out ter.fs:
when you make those posts, please acknowledge that the animals in question are intersex (hermaphrodism is a different thing, species-wide instead of individuals like intersex (at least thats how i was taught)), and not trans.
intersex people have asked us trans folks so many times to stop calling intersex animals trans, because it just further contributes to the erasure and alienation of intersex people. we as a group have a history of using intersex people as a convenient "gotcha" or as proof that trans people are natural, without actually supporting or considering the intersex people were making use of, and ignoring that an animal is intersex to say that its trans instead, even if its just to be silly or just as a joke, does contribute to that. (im not saying you, personally, have done this, but that us trans people as a whole need to do better)
if its an animal that goes female to male or vice versa, ive not seen anyone have a problem with calling them trans, but if they are intersex (like the lionesses that start growing manes & roaring like males), i feel its important to respect and acknowledge them as such. i very much understand the desire to say an animal is trans or gay or queer, to show that we are not unnatural, but lets include our intersex siblings and allies in this as well, and call intersex animals what they are.
🩷🩵🤍🩵🩷 🫶 💛💜💛 trans-intersex solidarity forever
Hey! Thanks for sending this.
In the posts specifically about one species in particular, I do try to avoid calling them trans-- and please let me know if I've misworded anything. I am aware that gender is very much a human construct, and labeling hermaphrodite species as trans is inaccurate and can be seriously harmful for intersex people. Frankly, when I first started making posts about those species, I was hesitant to label them as hermaphrodite at all because I know how much weight that term carries in the intersex community. That goes double for species that are not traditionally intersex, like the lionesses with male characteristics.
That said, and as you've pointed out, I do include them in my queer pride collection because A: queer-intersex solidarity forever
And B: the existence of these species, along with those that display homosexual behavior, was denied for a very long time specifically because it legitimized both the queer and intersex communities. Even today there are plenty of people that don't want to acknowledge those parts of nature because it goes against what they believe is the "correct" way to be.
So yes, trans-intersex solidarity forever! 🩵🩷🤍💜💛💜 and again, I'm only human so if I get something wrong please let me know!
118 notes · View notes
who-is-page · 2 days
Text
Just read a conference paper that mentions fictionkin and... does a fantastic job at completely misunderstanding the phenomena and confusing it with KFF, but worse than that is that it uses a grand citation of a TikTok for that part. How is this going to be a foundational part of your paper's point when you can't even be half-assed to actually look into it. One of the authors has a PhD.
32 notes · View notes
imninakk · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
So, someone sent me an ask, and I was ready to answer, BUT I WAS STUPID AND MISSED THE ASK AAAAA
the question was about what I think about Near as a neurodivergent, and his stims etc.
Firstly I would like to say that I LOVE when people ask me these questions, I keep thinking about them for a long time
I research a lot about these things, but I want to make it clear that I don't know everything, so I could unintentionally offend someone, but I assure you that that is not my intention <:3
(most of my thoughts were based on a video that talks specifically about Nearby and psychology, I like being a nerd at that level)
1. Autism
I believe this little guy has autism because he canonically presents all 3 requirements for autism plus a few things that are common in the disorder
About stims, he twirls his hair when he's nervous or has some strong emotion, but I think he does that when he's thinking too. I also think he has "dinosaur hands" and is comfortable in that position.
He probably has some level of eating problems (not entirely linked to autism but anyway).
2. Savant syndrome
People with this syndrome tend to develop many things very quickly, such as learning a language or understanding complex things etc... at a very young age, but have a lot of difficulty in communication, which is something that I totally believe matches Near
I think it took him a long time to start speaking, like, having been non-verbal for most of his childhood, but knowing how to speak about 4 languages (including BSL, which he may have learned at Wammy's)
I don't know much about it so that's it
WEELL I also think he has depression, like, his life is really horrible
and because of this he tends not to take much care of himself, working more than he should and spending hours without eating or sleeping, and only maintains his hygiene because he hates the feeling of being dirty.
Well that's it guys, I'm not good at expressing what I think, but I did my best :)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Sketches
75 notes · View notes
Note
AITA For Not Budging On A Potentially Unconventional Need?
I (M20+) have BPD and Autism, and when I was younger, they'd both team up to cause me a lot of struggle.
One of the biggest things I used to do was self isolate when I was upset or worried, and just sit around after throwing out some red flags, hoping someone would read my mind and ask me if I was alright.
OBVIOUSLY THAT WASN'T VERY HEALTHY, neither for myself or for others. I definitely think that was an "ESH" time period.
So now that I'm older, in therapy, taking meds, and generally doing better and am a lot happier, I put clear communication as my #1 priority in all of my relationships.
I don't phrase anything in a way that sounds confrontational, I don't tell people what they can or can't do, who they can or can't talk with, don't get jealous too easily, etc. I only ask for honesty, compromise, and mutual respect for boundaries.
I really thought I was doing well for myself by swapping "I won't communicate at all" out for "I need to communicate often"
But one thing that I just can't seem to stop is the paranoia when it comes to people I'm particularly close and very vulnerable with; I'll notice certain changes in their demeanor and worry it's because I've done something wrong, or that they don't like me as much anymore. Sometimes I CAN brush it off and wait it out until I'm inadvertently proven otherwise.
But if it's not going away, and I'm worried it's just getting worse, I need to just ask for their honest thoughts and get it over with. If for some reason they were actually upset, my intention would NOT be to double down or lash out. I just DON'T want to be strung along by a lie, as has happened!
This isn't really that common of an occurrence either. Maybe every few weeks during particularly hard periods.
I don't feel this way about people I'm not very close to, and people who do manage to get very close to me know this about me; I keep no secrets about my mental health and try to be extremely upfront. A lot of people will say at first that they understand, but over time, I'll eventually get that flack and heartache from them, saying that it's just too exhausting for them. At best, I'm kinda teased for it. It's made me feel like I haven't made as much progress in my recovery as I thought I had, which sucks.
It's not me starting arguments or fights, or accusing them of anything. Just me saying "Hey, I've been feeling a little paranoia lately, is everything okay between us? Is there anything we should talk about?" or something like that.
I'm really conflicted about it.
On one hand, I feel like if things are okay, it shouldn't be difficult or tiring to say "Nope, everything's alright, dw!" If you still like me in a certain way, why would it be tiring to just say so? It takes maybe five seconds to type/say. The only way I can see it being tiring is if they were just telling me white lies about how they felt, and had to maintain the act.
On the other hand, I know BPD isn't without its delusions, and that Autism isn't without its "misunderstanding of social norms". I know I'm likely to see things differently from others. I know it's not exactly EASY to love someone like me. Maybe it IS too much of a demand, and I've just convinced myself it's not?
This IS something I'm trying to work through in therapy regardless, but I just worry that it isn't a symptom that will ever fully go away, and instead it needs to be worked with.
Am I the asshole for standing by that, at LEAST for now? Is it fair? Or is that too much of a need for people to reasonably accommodate? Am I just not trying hard enough to be better?
If I ever got particularly close to someone again, would I be an asshole for again insisting that if I need reassurance to dismiss an oncoming spiral, they should be able to meet that need instead of asking that I keep the paranoia to myself and just deal with it on my own? Which may or may not work, or even make things worse.
I know it can make people feel like I don't trust them. That much I do understand! But I've tried telling them that it's not that I don't trust or respect them, I don't trust or respect myself. I dunno if that makes sense to anyone without BPD, though.
This is both a "Was I the asshole?" and a "Would I be the asshole?" ask I guess, lol
72 notes · View notes
Note
One thing that I personally find super frustrating about Taylor Swift is the way she plays into the myth of the "lone genius" artist. Without collaboration, nothing gets done; or, if it does, it's typically of low or inconsistent quality. And this is true in pretty much ANY field or discipline you can think of: scientific research, advocacy work, etc. The fact that Taylor considers herself above that and persists in selling the myth of her "lone genius" to fans honestly feels malevolent and arrogant to me.
It's truly ridiculous, at the end of the day, that people call her a "poet" and "genius songwriter" for doing everything on her own. I think it really showcases how little she understands when it comes to poetry as an art form. Most legendary writers and poets have multiple people look over their work and go through many stages of the editing process. One of the purposes of art is to communicate, and it's honestly hard to tell sometimes if what you've written has meaning and communicates well outside of your own brain. Peer review is ESSENTIAL for writers.
I think it's also very telling that she considers herself a legendary poet and actively plays into that mythology by circulating the fact that she's distantly related to Emily Dickinson. As someone who has loved and studied literature for many years, I can honestly say that Taylor Swift's closest comparative when it comes to writing is Rupi Kaur. Pinterest poetry, and nothing more. And she has the arrogance to compare herself to one of the most important poets in American literary canon!
I'm reminded of something I heard Hozier say a little while back (I'm forgetting now which interview) about people praising his lyricism as poetry. He essentially called those claims an insult to poetry, stating that there are structural rules in music (rhyme scheme, beat, etc.) that he adheres to that poets don't have to, and that poets can be much more experimental and revolutionary in form (at least when it comes to the written word vs. the sung word). Only someone who genuinely loves poetry would say something like this; plus, it shows that he thinks about the different impacts that form can have on art the messages it communicates. And this, coming from one of the best singer/songwriters currently working!
TS and Hozier aren't writing in the same genre, but I do think it's interesting to compare them as artists in their respective approaches to lyricism. When it comes to Taylor, I think she cares more about the aesthetic of poetry as an art form than the actual art itself. Her writing doesn't actively interact with the literary canon that inspired it, like Hozier's does (or other great lyricists, like Kendrick/Florence/Mitski/Elton). Her writing feels very hollow and devoid of meaning to me.
i just want to say your ask and analysis was so well written 😭 thank you for sending this in!
Completely agree that Swift's solo songwriting genius is a myth. Only 2/16 songs from TTPD were solely credited to her...which means 12.5% of the album is solely her own writing. That is not a songwriting genius. That's just a songwriter. She already knows her fans are completely sold and convinced on her songwriting genius so of course she would drag out her ancestry.com results and up-play her relation to Emily Dickinson to help sell the aesthetic of the album. Everything for her is another marketing strategy. She has no respect for poetry, let alone writing as a craft itself. If you view her behavior through the lens of another writer, it's absolutely abhorrent, but if you view it through the lens of another capitalist, it's absolute genius.
I love your Hozier comparison because Hozier is only 4 months younger than Taylor yet the quality of their lyricism are oceans apart. Hozier has proven himself to be a talented writer time and time again throughout the course of his career, and the best songwriters often know and understand the power of other writing mediums. (BTW I know what Hozier interview you’re talking about! Here it is :))
What makes a great writer is knowing the canon, and knowing other writing mediums very well. It's why the greatest songwriters incorporate canon not only of their own genre and medium but of other texts as well (I'm biased because I listened to Kate Bush's Wuthering Heights today and I know its an adaptation but still its relevant here). Intextuality is the foundation of a great work, and Taylor's work has none.
As the other anon(s) have pointed out, Taylor no longer makes music as art. She makes music for money. I don't think any artist who likes what they do or cares about what they produce would put out an album like that, with lyrics like that, and its content. At least Rupi Kaur's writing impacted poetry in bringing it into the mainstream; I don't exactly understand what ttpd could offer as a text or in pop culture.
TLDR: hozier makes music for people who eat it from the back and then handfeed you grapes afterwards. taylor swift makes music for white girls entering their first day of 7th grade send tweet
65 notes · View notes
jazeswhbhaven · 2 days
Text
We outside with a Bad Boy~ (Satan Attacker Prologue React Part I)
I would say *spoilers* but this card has been out for a minute now so lol FINALLY, A BIH POSTED THIS
Tumblr media
So let me first say, thank you all for sticking around and waiting patiently for my reacts to start up again. Now that I've been getting my sources from the lovely mooties and oomfs with the addition that there's some down time lately for content with PB so now I can hurry up and post some shit before they start hitting us with Belphegor and the next chapter which I assume will be all at once. A simple two-parter! Grab yourself a smol snackie snack and let's gooo~
Tumblr media
Belial bae <3 So today is a rare day for Gehenna where the devils don't need to fight any angels and instead, everyone's doing their part and cleaning up and little and the nobles are doing their part as well! As you see Belial/Jjyu here telling everyone to take it easy because it's pretty much a "day off".
Tumblr media Tumblr media
So Paimon is strong asf because he picked up a pile of rocks which turned out to be a damn wall lmao Thank you Zagan my babes, <3 that is a wall and he shouldn't pick it up
But nah Paimon can pick my fat ass up with one hand and just hold me up if he can pick up a damn wall.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Lol look at Leraye....being cute as per usual and then we get Astaroth warning everyone to be careful what they wish for when it comes to chaos returning quickly to Gehenna. Like I'm with Ro here...because enjoy your day where you don't have to fight through flying debris, rubble, and having those nice ass homes destroyed in a blink of an eye because Gehenna is literally a fucking war zone 90% of the time. But where there's down time...there's chaos somewhere....
Tumblr media
AND that's when we pan over to MC in Satan's palace....btw his conference room looks so official like I love it for Satan.
But we've got our three kings here and they've showed up for some reason. It's funny that we get to see why...
Tumblr media
First...MC was asking a question about what's going on in each country as to why they're there at the same time. Levi hit 'em with the "stay out of grown folks business" and I wanted to swing on him immediately because no one asked you to get snarky.
he tests my patience every day i swear
Tumblr media
Beel is just speaking plainly but MC brought up a good point where he's never away for a moment his ass is ALWAYS gone lmao
Bael is throwing punches in the air rn if he could hear Beel say this, I know he is sick of him
Tumblr media
Yes. That is mine. All of it. Bring it to me.
*Ahem* wait what were we doing? Oh right ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
So Mammon is just confident that his nobles are handling it well while he's gone. I mean in the first couple of chapters we see that it's clearly Eligos and Valefor holding down the fort since Bimet goes everywhere with him.
Tumblr media
I love how Sitri is just always annoyed as hell when it comes to people gathering around MC like this. But I mean I don't blame him because why are all of them there?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
So Beel just straight up says he came there to go on a date with MC (he's so cute I love him, where we going bae?) and then he proceeds to grab them by their waist (gawdddddd) and then he does his thing where he's sniffin' up on their clothes.
we know damn well he has money he just spends it too much lmao so the buying clothes thing would definitely happen
Tumblr media Tumblr media
FORAS BBY HI :D
so he whisks MC over to Levi, and he apologizes for grabbing them so suddenly. like i feel we don't deserve Foras because he's so nice and soft and I just want to squish him.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
So Levi wants MC to come to Hades for a serious test reason (as if Levi we're on to you) and Beel is like ah so you wanna go on a date too. (clocked him that's most likely why lmao) and Levi gets irriated but he doesn't hang him.
I have my own theory on why he makes empty threats with the kings, and it's mostly because he likes interacting with them and doesn't really want to hang them unless they really piss him off. So empty threats are his communication with them and that's why they all keep calling him "Levi" for short lmao
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
So Mammon comes up with his reasons for having MC, and he says he's happy to see everyone get along and wishes the other three were there (so yeah I would assume he gets along with all the kings since he wants to be around them) and he calls Bimet forward. So my boujie noble is here saying that since Mammon is a pacifist he just wants to pay everyone for allowing MC to come to Tartaros since the country is swimming in money and they can afford any price tag. Proceeds to then say low key everybody broke asf so don't even try.
Levi and Foras take that personally as you can see them being irritated. LMAO Bimet is always gonna call someone a broke bitch it's a given.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Beel is so cute I swear because he literally does not care about what's going on with what the other kings said. As far as he's concerned MC is going on a date with him and everyone else has to wait their turn.
"That's fixed"
Damn right it is, like, you tell 'em Beel <3
Tumblr media
Okay so Levi got some hands with this clapback because he said that with no remorse and with the quickness.
Tumblr media
So imagine how tall Mammon is right, imagine that the room shook when he stood up like that and looked down at Levi.
He's smiling so he's not even being threatening he's just like :D hey Levi real quick...
Tumblr media Tumblr media
So Mammon is basically telling him, that he needs to act correctly because MC belongs to Tartaros and therefore he needs to respect their wishes to come with him to spend the day together. Levi of course is irritated again because everyone keeps cockblocking him.
Tumblr media
Look at this sneaky little devil, being all like "there's gonna be a war in this room so let's go" as if he didn't cause any of that by agitating Levi in the first place lmao (granted Mammon also has been blocking Levi too)
What's weird is that Mammon and Beel have been blocking Levi but Mammon hasn't really directed any of that energy toward Beel at all so it feels like a strange dogpile on Levi. But honestly it's tension all around this room to where MC is feeling a certain way about it and feels bad that they can't be in multiple places.
I love this banter so far between them because this is truly how they interact when it comes to claiming MC and it's going to be a real treat when the other kings start getting involved.
SO this ends part 1. See you all in part twooooooo <3
83 notes · View notes
doesthendnlive · 1 day
Note
I'm so tired. Sorry for bad grammar or mistakes.
TW for rape/pedophilia/slavery/domestic violence/violence against Indigenous women and girls specifically
It makes me so angry we Sacagawea and "Pocahontas" are known our figure head Native "Women". If you want to go a litter further the fact that "La Malinche" is idolized as well in the same way. But we don't learn about their actual lives.
Why are public schools obessed with these pedophilic relationships between Native girls and old gross ass white males as "The country coming together" or a "unity between 'Indians' and whites'" or "the creation of our mestizo race" or whatever else.
Sacagewa was only 12 when her "husband" bought her, and 16 when he impregnated her. I didn't learn this until I looked it up and searched for it myself.
"Charbonneau was also known for his short temper with his wives. On August 14, 1805, Charbonneau struck Sacagawea during a domestic argument, and was told to stop by Clark. This one incident has led to Charbonneau's reputation as a "wife beater," although it was the only time during the expedition that this type of behavior was noted. Coupled with the rape incident described above, however, Charbonneau seems to have been a sometimes violent person with little regard for women Native girls . His consistent record of marrying Native girls under age 16 also makes one wonder about a possible need to exhibit power over women Native girls
Charbonneau is known to have had a total of five wives, all young Native American women girls whom he married when they were sixteen years old or younger. He may have had more wives who have been lost to the record, however. His last known wife, an Assiniboine girl, was 14 when she married him in 1837; he was more than 70 years old."
Matoaka was even younger if I remember right, the bastardization of her real life story and the fetishization of her story and Native women and girls beause apparently we're all from her people. The fact the "Pocahontas" even exists, the disregard for her actual story and scraping details out to make it more palatable.
Despite the fact the she didn't get to have palatable, she had to endure violence, forced removal, rape, and forced impregnation by her rapist(s). She didn't get to have that comfort or safety but everyone else gets to when 'learning' about her.
"La Malinche" or "Malintzin" (we literally don't know her birth name) was around 11-16 years of age when she ended up on the hands of Spaniards
What makes it worse in regards of "Malintzin" is that Hispanic Males fetishize the "Mestizo race" and the rape of Indigenous women and girls especially to create this race.
They only claim their Indigenous decent when it benefits them, while they are still actively anti Indigenous themselves and hate actual indigenous peoples/communities.
Argentina specifically, it's called chineo, criollo males are known for targeting Indigenous women and girls to rape/gangrape them. It's a old colonial practice that still happens to this day.
Im just so angry that our figure Indigenous "women" are just these little girls adultified into these grown women just to make people less uncomfortable with the power dynamic imbalance and pedophilic relationships and colonialism and colonization in general
Racist white males (Spanish, English, French, whatever flavour of white idc) love this idea of conquering Indigenous women and raping them. I heard way too many gross comments from old white males with rapey undertones to them about them being white and me being a Indigenous girl.
Or even them mocking the sexual violence we face, one of my ex white male friends mocked me for being abused when we got into a argument not related to it at all he also was more and more racist to me as time went on.
In both of the Americas Indigenous people, but especially Indigenous Women and girls aren't safe. It's scary how much violence is forced onto us and how these figure head "Women" are watered down into comfortability for the general public.
The violence we face is pretty much the same in the Americas, and its scary to know we are stuck in places that hate us despite being on our lands in the first place.
all of this but THIS PART ESPECIALLY:
Tumblr media
59 notes · View notes
muffinrecord · 13 hours
Text
Current Plans + Musings
I don't plan on playing Exedra to the degree I did for Magia Record, or playing it at all. Because of that, I won't be taking an active role in the community and archiving anything for it. Of course, if Exedra has like amazing gameplay and stories then this is all subject to change, but for now I think I'm done with phone games.
The two youtube channels will stay up and I'll check em periodically to make sure there aren't copyright strikes against the content. I've saved all my raw files, especially for the battle animations, so I can remake them in the future if the music ever becomes a problem for some reason.
Google Drive will stay up until Google rots away. I haven't recorded footage in a long time (as in stories, I do for the character doppels and such), but I'll upload things if they're sent to me.
Magia Union Translations still plans on translating things and making videos, especially leading up to the end, but also for after the game is over for whatever wasn't made in time. I'm not sure what form this will take in the future-- if it'll be manual captions added to the videos or not, but I know it WILL happen.
As for this blog, I'm not going to delete it or anything. However I'm going to be taking a step back. I'd like to say that I'll do liveblogs but I mean... *gestures at blog* I've been saying that for years and the only one I really did successfully was the Oriko one lmao. Ahhh oh well.
I'll have more words later, but it was really fun to be part of a fandom experience like this. I'm excited to work on my own original story projects though and quiet down a bit.
...
When I started this blog, I never expected it to have people actually read it. Or look at it. I just wanted a place to gush about how much fun I was having. I didn't even want to tag the posts with "Magia Record" at first because I was terrified people would be mean at me, haha.
But I'm glad I did. I made so many good friends through this game. I'm glad it existed. And it made me happy to have a place where people cared about what I had to say. Some folks actually got their news from here, can you imagine that? They had notifications turned on for this blog. My god.
Anyways, I'm going to be here for the next two months, and tomorrow I'll start reblogging fan projects and initiatives, plus general news. Maybe this blog will turn into a dumping site for art and fanfic reblogs, who knows. I might watch the remaining stuff and add various thoughts here and there.
Otherwise, you can find me on my main blog @malignmuffin, which only reblogs stuff (I don't talk much if at all there). I have another tumblr blog for my comic, but I think I'll reshare the name once I actually have content you can look at on it. It's pretty bare bones for the moment.
Actually it'll be funny if the end of this game is what makes me finally work on it again. I was in the process of working on it when NA came out, and it totally derailed me. Stopped writing, drawing, just focused on this silly little phone game. Now it's like those five years have gone by and I'm going back to where I started, except I think my lil comic is going to be a bit better than it was before. If I actually make it, that is.
If I ever do actually make my comic and start posting it, I'll be sure to update y'all here. hah
Anyways, thanks for being on this wild ride with me. The memories have been great, and I'm glad I had this experience, even if it had to end.
60 notes · View notes
falmerbrook · 18 hours
Text
How are the Falmer hitting me with arrows? (headcanons on how Falmer navigate and hunt/fight)
I'm keeping up the Falmer headcanon momentum.
So Falmer in Skyrim (the game) have a blind effect applied to them and fortify sneak. As I'm sure anyone who has plundered a Dwemer ruin has experienced, despite their blindness, those buggers sure can shoot and arrow. As a matter of fact, they have a surprising amount of archers in their communities. There's also a question of how they are able to navigate the often treacherous Dwemer cities filled with dangerous guarding contraptions and tall drops. So here's my thoughts on how they get around and navigate/fight/hunt so well.
Echolocation
You know what other (real life) creature has poor eyesight, big ears, and is able to pinpoint small targets for hunting? Bats.
I like to imagine that Falmer are in the early stages of evolving echolocation. While they don't have the precise echolocation capabilities of bats, I headcanon they can use it to get a general picture of the size and shape of their surroundings, so they can get a decent idea of obstacles, the size of a room/cavern, if there is a gap or cliff, and if an object or creature is moving around. Falmer moving about will use echolocation to navigate (akin to using something like a cane to just detect obstacles or walls), and while on guard or hunting they can use it to scan an area to get a baseline for what the area is like and therefore if something changes within it.
Bats that have evolved echolocation tend to have large ears to better pick up the reflected noises, and strange looking wrinkles and folds in their faces to help reflect or project the sound to the ears better. This could explain the wrinkles on Falmers' faces and the larger ears (I also tend to make their ears bigger than in the games in my drawings for that reason).
That all being said, for your consideration, please imagine if Falmer's faces looked like this:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Wrinkle-faced bat, white-throated round-eared bat, vampire bat, horseshoe bat, great stripe-faced bat, slit-faced bat)
And if they sounded like this (as I picture it, it would be a sort of secondary noise set alongside their normal vocalizations that we hear in-game):
youtube
(in real life, this is more of a noise you can feel in your head than hear)
youtube
(this one is slowed and pitched down so we can hear it)
Clairvoyance
I've often wondered (these are the sorts of things I think about while I'm working) how clairvoyance would work in-universe, but I think it could be useful to someone (or a group of someones) who can't see. For those who don't know, clairvoyance is an illusion spell in Skyrim (the game) that shows a blue magical path towards the current objective (quest marker). They way I like to headcanon it, the way clairvoyance works in-universe can vary, but it’s mostly used for giving the mind’s-eye an “image” of the route/location of what the caster is thinking about. It’s like a mix of a clarity of understanding (a “eureka!” moment) and a mental picture. It’s a spell that requires pretty heavy concentration and mental training, since it requires not only casting the spell but maintaining a certain objective in your mind.
Falmer have figured out how to use it to “see” (understand) their surroundings in a way that allows them to fight, hunt, and navigate complex architecture. It’s not a replacement for sight though, just a way of adjusting without it. This is the skill that allows them to use bows with fairly good accuracy. They understand this spell more as a navigational skill than what the above world sees it as (a spell). I imagine they have their own very different system of understanding and classifying magic since they've been so separated from the rest of the world, but that's a post for another day.
While echolocation is mostly used for purely navigating and scanning the environment to get a sense of scale and placement, clairvoyance is used more for a specific purpose, whether that be to navigate to a specific point, navigate difficult terrain, pinpoint the position of a target/enemy, find something (an object they lost, a friend or family member, etc.), etc. While a guard or hunter may use echolocation to scan, they may then use clairvoyance to pin down a potential threat. Usually, unless one is very skilled in magic, they can only focus on a single target or subject at a time using clairvoyance, and it is a learned skill that most individuals have at least a basic grasp on, but only those more skilled in magic can use for complex, frantic, or stressful situations. They don't see it so much as a spell to learn and master, but rather a basic skill of life, like how we may see learning to read and write.
Of course, part of their ability to navigate also just comes down to having been born that way and just naturally learning the placement and arrangement of things in their environment. They don't know what they're missing, and like a blind person or animal, could adapt to it in their own non-magical ways as well. The magic and evolution just help them thrive.
Anyway, thanks for reading another Falmer Post™!!
61 notes · View notes
Note
Hi Starbs, sorry to hear about your situation, I am a bit younger than you and a couple of years ago I was put into a similar spot, even right now as I'm finishing up high-school my housing isn't very stable. I'll give you some tips if it's something that could help you. (I am from the USA so things are probably different over there) also apologies I am not good with English!!
SAVE. SAVE. SAVE. Budgeting and being frugal when it comes to money is extremely important!!
Do keep a bit of spending money as treats and keeping morality in check will do you good in the long run.
My storage unit costs me 66$ USD a month it's the size of a walk in closet. Whatever isn't essential or you can't carry in a backpack it's best you have a safe place to store it. Some will ask you to buy your own lock so keep that in mind.
Reach out to youth shelters! The one I'm staying at lets us stay 60 days but makes us leave at least 7 until we can come back. We can keep coming back as many times needed for us to find housing (as long as we don't have a record with causing problems at the shelter)
Learn your bus routes if you can, it saves more money than using a car.
Let trustworthy people know about your situation, friends, teachers, whoever, let them know as community and building a support system is essential.
Communicate with your college, perhaps they have dorms or programs that may be of assistance.
Eat!! Drink water!!! Take care of your hygiene!!!
Some gyms have showers so you can get a membership just to go shower if you need!
Cars can be very useful as you can sleep in them, there are camping spots rangers won't look through sometimes you could sleep at, 24 hour opened store parking lots, or in my case outside the gym you have a membership for that's open 24 hours!
Keep distance from your parents. I don't know your situation but from my experience, KEEP A DISTANCE AND HAVE FIRM BOUNDARIES!!! You don't owe them anything, not your location, who you're with, you're schedule, they don’t need to know that.
Apartments usually want you to make 2-3 times the rent. Example: rent is 600 a month? Then you need to make around 1200-1800 a month.
If you have a job communicate with your boss about your situation, they can be very flexible and understanding.
Don't burn bridges in the professional field!
Social networking is a life saver, if you make the right impressions with the right people it can come in clutch later on.
I'm repeating this again but building community and a support system is essential. Maybe a friend you get along well with also wants to move in, you could be roommates. Or an older woman who is fond of you learns about your situation and is willing the rent you a room in her home.
Pay attention to red flags!
Red flags in apartments can be how well maintain it is (mold underneath the sink) and how you’re landlord approaches it.
Red flags in people, like they could know you're desperate and will try to use that against you.
Do your laundry at friend's homes or in public laundromats.
Red flags in environments, maybe you end up in a bad part of town, get out ASAP!!
Share and update someone trustworthy often, you never know what could happen.
I wish I could offer you more but I'm currently still figuring out my situation as well. Stay safe!! Remember someone out there really loves you and wants you to be okay!! And you deserve to be okay!!
.
57 notes · View notes