#and when we talk about the shit that effects us as women. the fact that we refer to each other as girls is nowhere near the list

[snekdood]

i hope all the terfs looking at my blog rn are able to grab me a beer and maybe make me a sandwich perhaps while they’re at it

[tallymali]

Actually "gal" is the woman version of guy, girl is the woman version of boy. Stick to referring to us as women instead of participating in the infantilization of women please 🙃

lmaaoooo you clown

[kneelingshadowsalome]

A Brute, An Angel... (König x F!OC)

Summary: König gets an order to make a female SpecGru sniper talk, but König doesn't want to hurt women.

Category: Smut 🔞, angst, fluff

Tags & warnings: Explicit mature content +18 audiences only, strangers to lovers (slight enemies to lovers), dubious consent, threats of rape, virgin!König, size kink, size difference, p in v, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, squirting, hugs and cuddles, super fluffy ending. König will be named in later chapters. 

A/N: KorTac and SpecGru are rivaling military contractors, Conor is König's superior (and a huge villain), and I just wanted to write angsty smut featuring our favourite Austrian boi. 

Part 1/3 of Valkyrie

Read on Ao3

A Brute, An Angel...

"You're always yappin' about how ya can make prisoners talk. Now here's ya chance."

König tried his best to stand tall while Conor spat at him with a gruff accent he couldn't quite place. He could tell the man got off on this: getting a chance to order him around and making him uncomfortable. He concentrated on looking down at him — knowing perfectly well that it only pissed Conor off when he did that. As if König could will himself to be shorter.

"But she's a… She's a girl. Sir."

"She is an enemy, and we need that intel."

I highly doubt that, sir.

"What do you want me to do with her?"

"Make the captive talk. Ya don't have to do the usual. If y'know what I mean."

"Are you suggesting that I rape her, Conor?"

The fact that he used the Lieutenant's name to appeal to him on a more personal level should've spoken volumes. But it had little effect on the man everybody in the KorTac was more or less scared of.

"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm giving you an order."

If Calisto or Stiletto were here, Conor would be on the ground by now, begging for mercy. König found himself thinking what stopped him from gutting the man right then and there.

"Does the team leader know about this?"

“Never ya mind about that."

"Permission to speak, sir," Zero pushed in.

"Go on."

"This goes against the protocol-"

"Did ya give two shits about the bloody protocol when we were in Adal?"

The abrupt outburst almost made König flinch. Almost.

Zero didn't turn the slightly disgusted gaze away, but snapped his mouth shut.

"I - I can't do it," König muttered.

"You sayin' you refuse to obey an order?"

König straightened upon hearing the word 'order' but otherwise remained in confused silence.

"I suggest you carry on unless ya wanna get demoted to a fuckin' desk job. It's your call."

And with that, Conor turned and marched off. Zero followed suit, sparing a pitiful glance at König as he went.

He was left alone in the bunker hallway, illuminated by a lamp that produced an unnerving buzz.

Conor was only doing this because he liked to bully him. Somehow, somewhere, Lt had lost his humanity, but it wasn't supposed to be his problem. Not until Conor made it his problem.

Something in him made the Lieutenant tick. König didn't know whether it was because he was a relatively fresh recruit or whether it was the fact that he was a foreigner. Hell, maybe it was the mask, how could he know?

"Fuckin' jerry."

And he wasn't even; he was Austrian, but Conor didn't care, which meant that it was something else about him that got under his skin. The man had vehemently decided to hate him, and he could do nothing about it.

König turned to the door leading to the interrogation room, grabbed the doorknob, inhaled deeply, and went in.

The girl was tied to the ceiling with a grey paracord that bit into her wrists as she hung there, barely able to stand. The bastard had bound her unreasonably tight. An ugly sight, that.

But she wasn't.

The thick braid was messy, her arms were more or less bruised, and her face had dirt on it, but she was, by far, one of the loveliest beings he had ever seen. She looked like heaven and hell, an angel of war who had fought for days against overwhelming forces and only wanted to sleep.

He swallowed, glad of the hood making the blob of his Adam’s apple invisible. She stirred and looked up, eyes dark with the burned out wrath of a cornered wild thing. She looked dog-tired, and scared. Beaten. And no one had even struck her yet. Not that he knew of, at least.

She pulled herself to her feet by the rope, although it was long enough to allow her to stand, and raised her chin.

"So you're the one they sent to break me."

-----

It was him.

The man that had gotten her in this situation in the first place.

She had been stupid enough to freeze for a few moments, the crucial little moments that meant the difference between life and death, escape and capture. And for what? To watch how this beast raged on the battlefield like it was his playground, to watch how he plowed through her mates while bullets showered around him. Seemed to evade him even though he was the largest possible target in the whole damn skirmish.

It didn't really help that his gear was gone. He was still one of the biggest men she had ever seen. If not the biggest.

The black hood was still in place, though, making him look like an inquisitor. Or an executioner.

She suspected he was here to make her talk. He could probably make anyone talk... But there was a particular threat present here. She was a woman in a helpless state, and she had a hunch that this mountain of a man wouldn't shy away from any methods that would humiliate and destroy her. He probably enjoyed it: getting a little treat after a nice day in the field.

The man strode to her, and it seemed that the only thing that moved as he walked was his hips. But the sound of his weight, the sheer mass that met the floor through combat boots, made her draw back in a futile attempt to disappear somewhere between her raised arms.

He stopped a generous few feet away, crossed his arms over his chest, then unraveled them again to his sides. He was all corded muscle beneath that black shirt, the fabric barely concealing the curves of a well-built chest. The poor textile stretched from the swell of his shoulders.

She didn't say anything. She expected a punch in the face, a knee to the stomach. Something to get things started.

He walked behind her, much more slowly, the thumps against the cold, hard cement causing the hair on her neck to stand on end. He stepped close, so close that she could feel his body heat against her back.

"Listen to me." She flinched at his voice, far more high-pitched than she would've suspected from such a beast of a man.

"I'm going to help you. But you have to assist me here."

The 'here' sounded more like german for 'hier'. Through her terror sweat and confusion, she found herself wondering how odd it was that the KorTac had some German guy working for them.

"We have to…" he cleared his throat from the falsetto his voice was climbing to.

And she only now realized that he was nervous.

The soldier was fucking nervous.

"We have to have intercourse," he continued, his accent bleeding thick through her senses like some goddamn ASMR she used to calm herself with. A guilty pleasure she succumbed to when she tried to reach sleep after a mission.

Only after she got past the fact that the enemy soldier's voice made her feel tingly, she understood what he had said exactly. What he was proposing.

She knew that nerves and adrenaline were a fucked up thing. You could get turned on during the most absurd situations when the survival instinct kicked in. Those situations could include getting a target on sight and pulling the trigger, or getting hit and receiving care under fire.

Turned out that it could include the prospect of getting tortured by a 6 feet something enemy merc who whispered in her ear with a thick German accent, gently like a lover.

Perhaps this whole set-up was just another kind of torture. A good cop, bad cop routine, in which he was both of the cops. He tried to tear her walls down and make her trust him, and when she refused to tell him anything, he would get to work. Tear her nails off, dislocate joints, rape her bloody.

"I'm not going to speak."

She announced it with a far less stern voice than she would’ve preferred, and heard him swallow. Either he was damn good at acting, or he was the most socially anxious soldier she had ever seen.

He rounded her and stopped only an inch or two from her face. Which only reached the man’s chest, broad and lean, covered in that black shirt and smelling of battlefield along with his sweat - the combination hitting her nostrils as an undiluted, masculine scent. He reached a gloved hand to prop her chin up, to force her to look at him.

It was her turn to swallow, and the angle he forced her neck caused the sound of her gulp to echo in the bunker. The tactical glove had cut-proof padding on the knuckles, and it scratched the delicate facial skin, even though his touch was more of a coax than a yank. But that wasn’t what caught her attention so vividly that it nearly made her knees buckle.

It was his ice-blue stare. The eyes stood out from the holes of his mask, from among the heavily applied black facial paint like two beacons. And they were gentle. Bordering on puppy eyes. The thought alone nearly made her laugh hysterically.

Even with her faltering knowledge of human character, she could’ve bet all in that this man would not hurt her. That he was far from a torturer.

And the knowledge made her even more confused. If he wasn’t the torturer, then who was he? What the hell did he want?

“You have to co-operate.” His voice was strained with something akin to despair.

“I can only help you escape if you co-operate,” he whispered, his voice so low it went straight between her legs.

Jesus, this was not okay.

He released her chin, but she didn’t turn her gaze away. Her eyes roamed his face, or rather, the black hood that covered it. She wondered why he wore it when other soldiers didn’t bother to hide their identities. The only other man she had seen wearing a mask was Lt, with the top of a human skull attached to his balaclava. And even he wasn’t this big. Albeit menacing and shrouded in mystery that came from all things danger, death, and pain, the man before her now intrigued her far more than even Ghost did.

Why did he hide his face? Why was he so… jittery?

And why did he try to escape her gaze?

He looked like the whole situation was too much for him. To say that the man was distraught when she merely looked him straight in the eyes when he told her that they needed to fuck, would be an understatement.

If she were to choose a man to torture someone with his dick, this would be her last choice.

“What’s the escape plan, then?” She asked, still not believing for a second that he would help her, even if he didn’t strike her as intimidating anymore.

"I, uh…"

"You don't have a plan?"

"Well, not yet."

"Why am I not surprised," she murmured into the stale, dusty air of the chamber. "Why would you even want to help me?"

"I don't hurt women," he said and took a step back as if to confirm that statement.

This was so fucking ridiculous. He was a mercenary in a filthy bunker with a bound prisoner, assuring that he was a gentleman. Was she on candid camera or something?

She had never been in a situation like this. She had never imagined being in a situation even remotely close to this. She would have laughed over the absurdity of the whole thing but couldn't, because her lower lip started to tremble.

He noticed it and instantly shifted weight from one leg to the other. He tried to direct his anxiety into the leisurely movement, and it caused his hips to sway from one side to the other, making her think of all kinds of stupid associations, such as lapdance and snake hips.

With those rather tight khaki pants, it was impossible to prevent her eyes from darting to the bulging thighs and the evident package he was delivering between them.

Jesus fucking Christ, pull your shit together…

"I'm going to get you out of here," he promised.

"That's cute of you," she tiredly threw in, getting far too much satisfaction out of the reaction her words managed to pull out of him. He blinked a few times, and the colossal chest heaved as if the man was trying to catch his breath. "Funny that you need to fuck me to be able to do so."

Another switch from side to side, a sway of those goddamn khaki-covered hips.

"I'm almost positive that the only surveillance they have on this room is that camera over there. The screen is in another room," he told her, sounding stupidly proud of his debatable skills in spying. She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. "But the guys there are usually watching tv," he hurried to add.

"I doubt they will today if your orders are to rape me." Again, he looked abashed, eyes darting to the floor and back to her. Was this guy thick in the head or something? "Probably got their beers popped and their pants down by now…" she said, and the man let out something close to a squeal.

"That is exactly why we have to… provide them with something until I come up with a plan."

She looked at him and almost smiled. Like one would smile at a daft dog that was far too eager to please.

"You just said you don't hurt women," she said.

"That is why I very much wish you would co-operate," he answered.

"You are the weirdest torturer ever."

"I - I am not a torturer. I'm just a soldier," he tried to assure her with that climbing voice. He was shitty at concealing his uneasiness. The man was completely flustered.

"Then why did they assign you with this… task," she demanded to know. It was yet again laughable: as if he was the one being grilled here. He wouldn't answer, and she cocked her head to the side.

"Ever interrogated with your dick before?" She blurted.

His hands were trembling. Slightly, but they were.

"Negative," he said, voice tight.

Was this guy….

Was he a virgin?

The twisted concept of some romantic chivalry, the nervousness, the respectful distance he kept, and the fact that his hands started shaking when she said a dirty word, all pointed to the possibility that he very much might be.

She thought he was picked because he was big, because his obvious blessings in the crotch department also held a promise of pain. But this guy certainly didn't know what the heck he was doing. And not only because he wasn't a torturer or because he didn't want to hurt a lady. She could almost swear, hand on Bible, that this man had never been with a woman. Not much further than the first base, anyway.

"Well, get on with it then."

She told herself it was only because it was useless to postpone the suffering that would eventually come anyway.

She told herself it was not because she was trying to break a Guinness world record of developing Stockholm Syndrome to this guy and his adorableness. She told herself it was definitely not because she kinda sorta wanted to see how he would act when he had to actually pull that cock out and touch her with it.

He stared at her, eyes wide beneath that oversized hood, and she could swear it was his heart, not hers, that made that thumping sound.

"I am going to touch you," he informed her. Like the dumbest moron.

If she ever got out of here, and if she ever, ever told this story to someone, they wouldn't be able to believe it.

He took his gloves off - why would he even bother to do that? - and let them drop to the ground.

His fingers were long, the fingernails meticulously cut. There were a few scrapes and scratches here and there on his palm, indicating his lack of coordination. Clumsy boy.

When he reached for her, she assumed he would go for her tits, or her waist, or grope her ass. But he didn't. Fingers cupped her face, trembling still, before they slid over her neck and grabbed her throat, not to choke, but to revel. Like she was a sculpture or something, and he wanted to know how the material felt. How soft she was.

She looked into his eyes, because eyes told everything; they would betray a flash of sadism or whatever else she still expected from this strange man. They roamed all over her, darted across her face, every now and then to her eyes, but mostly avoided her stare like the plague. He wouldn’t hold a gaze for much longer than a glimpse of a second. And there was still no sign of lust for inflicting pain. Only perplexed wonderment.

Her hands and arms were numb because of the position she was in, hands tied above her head, blood flow inhibited. But she paid it no mind as his hand traveled down her neck, caressed her collarbones, and then stopped right before he reached the gap between her breasts, free game in the white tank top she had been left with, along with her cargo pants and boots.

“Can I… May I kiss you?” He asked, his voice muffled and so thick that it was difficult to untangle what he had said.

It was such an odd request that her words left her, and she could only produce a whimpering sound at the back of her throat. He took it as a yes, and raised his hood, only enough to reveal a pair of thin lips among a light brown stubble. His mouth opened slightly, then closed, then opened again, as if he didn’t know how to proceed.

He bent down like the giant he was, not hinging at the hips but hunching over towards her, probably trying to appear smaller but ending up looking like there was a tower falling on her. The smell of gasoline and sweat hit her as his lips met hers, parted, and a shy flick of tongue swept across her bottom lip. She tried to remember how to breathe and ignore the rush of wetness that told her she would have no problem whatsoever with him parting her nether lips too. He captured her lip, sucked, then opened his mouth wider and hers with it.

She answered his kiss - just a little bit, and he instantly deepened it and moaned into her mouth. She fluttered her eyes open and saw that his were squeezed shut. He pressed a hand against her back and pulled her against his overwhelming body. All she could feel was muscle… and then some more. He was hard, the thick erection colliding with her stomach all but seductively. She went completely stiff, eyes wide and lips tight.

The man went even more rigid, if possible. He released her mouth with a grunt and buried his head in her neck.

"I can't -... I can't do this, I'm gonna go and tell him they need to find somebody else," he said in a strained voice, riddled with pain.

No. No.

The fuck he would.

If he would be replaced by somebody else, some crazy, blood-drunk soldier with cold eyes and a knife, some jerk-off who hadn't had a go with a woman since their last leave, she would fucking die.

"Please don't," she hushed and swallowed against him, the place where his hood and the collar of his shirt revealed skin.

"I want it to be you," she continued to whisper in his ear, meaning to say If it has to be somebody, let it be you, but choosing to deliver a sentence as persuasive as possible. As inviting as possible.

So that he wouldn't leave her in the hands of someone with no mercy.

"Scheiße…" The hot air brushed against her skin, even through that hood.

"If only I could touch you too," she said, regretting it immediately. She was acting a little too enthusiastic in the midst of her panic. Trying desperately to prevent him from leaving.

But the hand on her back moved down a bit, and long fingers splayed over the small of her back, pressing gently.

"Don't tease me," he huffed, panting although they were both quite still.

Jesus Christ… at this rate, the KorTac could hire her to do the interrogations.

She wondered whether the surveillance team was looking at the scene, which was far too intimate and loving to be an interrogation. What kind of a man would try to pry information out of someone by embracing them gently? Kissing them hesitantly?

In a way, this was torture: she didn't know what would happen to her after… whatever this was. She didn't know what procedures would follow when the others found out he had no intel for them to tell.

Let's get this fucking over with.

"What's your name?" She asked, hoping that the puppy boy wasn't naive enough to tell her his actual name.

"They call me König."

King in german...

"König…-"

She meant to ask him to touch her so that this horrible, awkward mess would come to at least some sort of an end, but couldn't find the words. His name on her tongue seemed to do the trick, though. He ground his hips against her, and had she not been tied to the ceiling, the movement would have toppled her. The hand on her back went behind her knee and raised it to his hip. Then another hand slid down to do the same to her other knee, pulling her from the ground like she weighed nothing at all.

The strain on her arms was released, and the relief was heavenly. For that alone, she could've let him do whatever he wanted to her.

"You're so klein… small," he commented with her raised to straddle his lap and her face finally on the same level as his. "Small people make good snipers," he declared with a hint of longing in his voice.

She had a terrible urge to sling the bundle of hands over his head. And not for self-defense reasons.

"I'm not that small, you're just big," she said, like a beauty to the beast, like it was a cute scene in a movie where everybody was nice to each other. Her gut feeling of the man being a virgin only increased by the minute. He was so… blameless. It was downright unintelligible that he was a soldier.

But she had seen how brutal he was on the field, how he had struck holes in her teammate with a combat knife like he was playing tag and didn't quite know the rules. Didn't know that one stab in a well-picked spot would have sufficed.

She had seen him haul a grown man with 100 extra pounds of tactical gear on him up like the poor man was a barbell, and bring them down over his knee. The sound of a breaking spine would probably haunt her dreams for the rest of her life. She had simply gawked at the display of utter, brutal violence before her. Normal men, even soldiers of a special forces tactical unit, simply didn't do stuff like that. Hands-on, down in the mud, barbarian kind of stuff from medieval times.

And now the same man was fondling her like she was his sweetheart. Like he was about to carry her in the bedroom full of roses and other syrupy valentines shit.

"And what do they call you?"

The accent was really doing things to her, along with the few german words tossed here and there, absentmindedly like candy. He was an enigma with his colossal body, croaking voice, and gentleness that surpassed even the violence.

"Valkyrie."

"You've got to be kidding me," he said, astonished.

"My team found out I used to do fencing, and I'm blonde, so…"

It was silly and the swords weren't even that big. One could hardly call them swords at all, the pointy little things they were.

But the situation indeed had taken a turn into a sick fairytale. Like, come on. Valkyrie and König? Some stupid hippie would've loved that: how it was meant to be, destined, even, that the two of them had met. That she was a damsel in distress, and he was here to save her from the ring of fire.

She stifled the urge to shake her head, to snap out of where this was spiraling into.

Affection.

They barely even knew each other's codenames. She was in a modern version of a dungeon, lit by a single light bulb, about to get raped by some edgy, mentally unstable goliath, she reminded herself. While perhaps psychologically interesting, he was not okay. This was not okay. She had been trained for situations like this.

Except that she wasn't. She was trained to withstand torture, battering, spending days in a cell where the lights never went out. She knew methods to draw the mind away from constant pain. But she hadn't received instructions on what to do in a situation where she wasn't even being questioned. Not even on the sly. Her call sign wasn't much of a secret. They probably knew who she was before they brought her to this room.

"There are many stories of valkyries in my Heimat," he prattled on enthusiastically.

"Yeah, I know the Nibelung saga," she said.

"Very heroic, very German tale."

"You ought to know."

"No no, I'm not German, I'm Austrian," he said.

This was turning into an odd conversation.

"König." She said in an attempt to bring his attention to the present moment. He fluttered his eyes, long lashes batting over that innocent-looking stare.

"Don't. Just… don't," she tried not to stutter.

He had lied to her about not being a torturer. Chatting with her like they were on their first date, discovering that they were actually intrigued about one another... It was insufferable. Although she was the one who had started it by asking his name…

"Right. Getting on with it," he said like he had been given an order. Her heart stung. Tears were welling up from the absurdity of this whole situation, from his silliness, from her having felt rather comfortable and safe in his hold. Fucking safe.

She should quit the army when she got out of here. If she got out of here. She wasn't right in the head to continue with this job.

"I've been an idiot," he told her.

You're damn right.

An idiot she could imagine herself falling in love with in another situation, but an idiot nonetheless.

"You should put on more of a fight, and…" he trailed off.

And you should be rough, you dumdum, she thought. Again, in another situation, she would've probably loved him to be rough.

"Roger," she said to him and heard him chuckle, saw how a few wrinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes. He lowered her down to the ground, and she hissed when her arms extended against the rope again. He let her go, gently, like it was his fault that she was attached to the roof.

"I would help you, but -"

"It's ok." She gave him a weighted look that told him to stop speaking. To get on with the action so that she wouldn't get attached even more than she already was.

He grabbed her by the throat again, doing a shitty job at trying to make it look like he was manhandling her. His eyes landed on her chest, and she could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, thinking about whether he should tear her top. Apparently deciding against it, he went for his trousers instead, pulling the belt buckle open with a click.

It had been a while, what with all the stress and the sleep deprivation not being an ideal combo to get her juices flowing. But nothing could prepare her for the surge of wet heat when the front of those light brown pants practically gave way for what must’ve been the largest bulge she had ever seen. It was almost vulgar, even more so when the fabric of his boxer shorts stretched at the sudden throb.

She realized her mouth was hanging slightly open, and she closed it carefully, but her lips parted again when he continued to shove both of those pants down. He didn’t even bother to take them off, and they were left somewhere mid-thigh, with belt buckle dangling in the air.

And God, he was huge.

It wouldn’t even stand up properly, even though there was no doubt that he had a full-on erection. It jerked between them like a threat, or a dare, but mostly it was just a long, thick, veined baulk that couldn’t support itself because it was just so goddamn big. He was uncut, but the foreskin had drawn back from the arousal, and the tip of his slit glistened with precum.

And he was flustered again, misinterpreting her stare as a sign of fear instead of awe.

"I promise I'll be quick," he whispered, and the first thing that her mind chirped back was Please don't. And not because it would probably be painful. But because she desperately wanted him to slide that monster in inch by inch and take his beautiful time with it.

"Uh-huh," she managed to say before the man codenamed King stretched his fingers toward her pants.

With trembling digits, he opened them and started tearing them down before realizing she could not spread her legs without him taking the pants off. And then he realized he couldn't take them off without taking her boots off.

So what happened was that her panties and pants were halfway down, and the Austrian hulk kneeled in front of her with his hooded face in level with her pussy. He turned his head to the side and leaned a bit on her thigh to unlace her boots, but she was pretty sure he did it mainly because he was embarrassed to look straight at her cunt.

She helped him as much as she could, raising her feet one by one for him to take the combat boots off. He tossed them somewhere to the side and tore her pants down, all the way down, and over her feet, leaving her in her tank top and socks.

He rose, his cock brushed her thigh, and she jerked like she had been scraped by some sharp object. It bounced at the contact, bumping against her again, sweeping a wet streak over her skin.

"Sorry," he mumbled like it was somehow worse than what he was about to do next. When he would shove… that thing inside her.

He picked her up again, almost in a hurry. Her heart was ramming against her ribcage and her mouth was dry as her feet left the ground. He was hard against her belly, flesh hot and throbbing and slick with precum that pushed out from the tip and left wet stains on her top.

This time she did raise her hands over his head and let the arms come down to rest on his shoulders. Her intuition told her she would soon need the support.

He moved her around like she was a doll, letting the erection drop between them to position himself against her slit. Her folds parted without effort as he slid against them, once, twice, before halting.

Don't comment about it, don't…

"You're wet," he grunted with delighted surprise.

"Yeah?" She said like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Just fucking do it, she yelled in her mind, lips drawn into a straight line so that even a dumbass like he could see that this was not the moment for hesitation.

And he didn't hesitate.

He searched, adjusted himself, adjusted her, spread his stance, grunted…

And it was pretty clear by now that he didn't know what he was doing. Her nipples brushed against his chest as he searched for the right spot with her in his arms, and she hoped he would've taken his shirt off so she could feel skin instead of cotton.

"There," she helped him with a whisper as he hit the right spot. He returned, probed, and she guided him. "Now up…", and he bent his knees while raising her slightly. The angle was right, and he finally drove in, slowly but surely.

The stretch was phenomenal. It hurt more than a bit after he had passed the entrance, and the delicious feeling turned into a burning sensation.

"Wait.." she begged, and he stopped immediately, panting like a runner.

"Back up a bit."

He did, pulling out almost completely before she bucked her hips to let him know he could push back in. And when he did, she gasped, and he moaned, so tight and so glorious that the sound that erupted from him was laced with pure need.

"Ach, you're tight.. soft…"

She clenched around him at his shameless commentary, and he let out another broken sigh.

Of course it's tight when you're so big..

He wouldn't go fully in, and she doubted whether he ever even could. She had never been this filled. But more was coming.

He withdrew again before thrusting back inside, deeper still.

"Oh Jesus," she gasped, "yes, just like that.." the words escaped her lips and she noticed his eyes were directed at her, drunk and half-lidded.

"Yeah…" he echoed, his voice shivering like a leaf. "Das gut?"

If her hands were free, she would've torn that hood away, buried her fingers in his hair, and pulled until he would expose his fucking throat for her to kiss and lick.

He began thrusting with a steady pace, shallow but intense, going deeper every now and then when he slipped. His hands shifted, one by one, to grab her by her butt to glide her up and down his length. It was fucking hot that he didn't need his hips to fuck her, that he could just move her around with his hands and slam her against it if he wanted to. Her ankles hooked around his waist on reflex, and her fingers flexed in the ties, trying to grasp onto something but finding only air.

"You feel so good," the short, agonized 'good' coming out more like 'gut'; and her pussy tightened, pulled, and sucked him like he was the best thing ever.

"Sch…shit," he breathed laboriously, taking a moment and thrusting even deeper, eyes closing like he was on the brink of losing consciousness..

He hit a spot that was both familiar and unfamiliar, and she was pretty sure that if someone was looking at the surveillance material, they couldn't tell whether the look on her face was of pain or pleasure. She couldn't keep herself in check, couldn't seize control anymore. She was so soaked at this point that the evidence of her arousal was heavy and loud. So audible that it made her cheeks hot.

"I wonder what you taste like," he mused, his hood shaking in sync with his thrusts. "Honey and raindrops, eh?"

"Mh," she sobbed, her thighs quivering. She wanted to spread them more, to let him see her and have a taste, to present herself for him to do as he pleased. But she couldn't move much in his grasp. It was like she had been propped up on a machine, buckled to a seat reserved just for her.

He took a wider stance as if hearing her thoughts on wanting even more of what he had to offer, and she held on to him as he shifted like the continental plates beneath her. He proceeded to fuck her while leaning his head against the side of hers, and she held on to him as he breathed into her neck. The occasional moan sounded more like a sob as his cock slid in and out, in and out, slick with her wetness.

"You're what they sing about in Rheingold," he kept talking that romantic bullshit in her ear while stuffing her with that long Austrian cock that would make most women squirt if he kept at it long enough. "Und Walküre…"

It was so good she wanted to cry. She thought about letting a tear or two slip and saying it was just for the show if he asked. Virgin or not, König was doing a pretty decent job in making her a writhing, weak mess. He was not too quick, not too slow, but set just the right, rigorous pace that would send her into oblivion. He became the fountain stone, the buoy in the storm. He was the man that would send her over the brink and the man to hold her unwaveringly as she fell.

"Not much longer," he informed her light-heartedly, like he was in the middle of a mission about to be completed. Completed to the fucking full.

She couldn't even begin to tell him that she was already there, because everything suddenly coiled and burst, and she was arching her back, making him reach even deeper, almost fully inside her, the heavy balls slapping against her ass as her toes curled and her body went completely rigid…

The sound that broke out was not a yell, nor a scream, it was a violation of her vocal cords. She had never sounded like this — like someone falling and meeting the ground with a strained, lewd groan. Like someone who had the orgasm of their life.

He startled, almost quailed from her. Not because of the screaming, nor the sounds she made after… but because she came, hard, while he was banging her like a battering ram.

"Genau so…" König rasped, taken aback but trying his all to cover it. He slowed down on instinct, letting her greedy pussy suck on him like it was giving him a blowjob, telling him he was a good, good boy… because her words had left her.

He moved a little, and she could see the flash of those eyes from within the darkness of the hood, knew that he was watching her intently as she swam in ecstasy with an open mouth and pinched nose and eyes that wouldn't focus.

"Schön," he continued, sounding fragile. Weak. Vulnerable…

She couldn't for the life of her look at him, look in those eyes that must've told her things she wasn't strong enough to deal with at the very moment.

Her head dropped and her thighs went slack, but König held her, steadfast like the most gallant knight. He resumed his earlier pace with caution and care, breathing distinctly with his mouth open under that black mask. She was limp in his arms, trying to hold on as best she could while listening how the cock drove into her again with moist, sloppy sounds.

The moans that followed didn’t suit a man of his build at all. She had expected brute strength and hoarse grunts, not pinched, needy sobs and a head softly pressed against her. Forehead against fucking forehead. And he probably didn't even know what it was doing to her because he was such a stupid, adorable little — ugh, big dumbass.

She wanted to grasp his shoulders, slide her hands under his mask and raise it, kiss those moans straight from his lips, and run her fingers all over his stubble, the chiseled jawline she had seen only once. She wanted to feel him, all of him, not just his hands and his cock, even though they were good. Or fucking best. It almost made her cry; the post-orgasm need to cuddle for a bit but not being able to do so because her hands were bound to the fucking ceiling of a fucking dull grey bunker.

"Can I… cum..?"

Was he asking her permission to…

"Can I cum inside… Please, I'm close," he panted.

"Yeah… Yes.."

He slowed down the pace as he drew out his own upcoming release, relishing the last thrusts like he was sampling the finest cuisine. She finally dared to look at him and saw that his eyes were open and full of naked, helpless adoration. Devotion, even.

She must have been imagining: they were only the eyes of a man who was about to nut good. But damn if that fevered, helpless stare didn’t succeed in touching her very soul. To her horror, he wasn't shy this time, but held her gaze, held it, held it — until his lashes fluttered and he went over the brink with a cry.

It echoed from the damp concrete walls, just a single, prolonged wail that eventually broke and ended in miserable panting.

She could feel his cock throbbing, shooting the load inside, emptying the whole magazine in her. How the seed welled up, unable to go anywhere before he would decide to pull out.

König laid his head on her shoulder and pulled her against him, and she was not suspended only in rope but in time and space as well. His shoulders moved up and down with the heavy breaths, and she pulled her tied hands to awkwardly brush his neck as he came down from heaven.

He was shaking. Shaking, and let out a whimper against her skin, and for a fleeting moment, she was sure he was crying or on the verge of doing so.

"König?"

He shuddered a sigh, taking a moment to himself.

She felt hollow. Not raped, not assaulted, not abused. Just hollow, knowing what had happened between them would not be a recurring thing. That there was no 'them', not really. Not in the real, actual world.

"You can let go of me now," she whispered, although that was the last thing she wanted him to do.

But he did as she proposed, lowering her down and sliding out of her only after her feet had met solid ground. He pulled out carefully, gently, like he was leaving his beloved. Warm fluid descended down her left thigh in a streak, indicating that it had been a while for him.

Her head was full of dumb thoughts, such as whether he had a girl waiting for him somewhere back home. In Germany perhaps — no, in Austria. And if he had, just how lucky that person was.

She wondered if he had found someone here, and if they were in the military or not.

She wondered if there was no one, if he was alone, and if he curled up in a fetal position every night before he fell asleep in some bed that was too small for him.

And whether he would get into trouble for violating orders.

"You were," he started, eyes directed to the ground, "magnificent."

Was I your first, King?

"You weren't that bad yourself," she complimented him back, and he huffed.

"You liked it?" He asked in a way that made her heart squeeze tightly in her chest.

"Wasn't it obvious?" She couldn't help but smile. Couldn't… Wouldn't.

"Ja," he chuckled while looking down at his boots with an interest that was totally born from shyness. "I'm glad I could please you," he said before tucking himself demurely back into his trousers.

She wondered if he was as aware as she was of the fact that neither of them had played out the part they were supposed to. It had all gone out the window the moment he had touched her again. Practically thrown out, as if they were defying death itself together.

He gathered her boots and helped her step first inside her panties and then the cargo pants. He had to go around her back and reach from behind to zip her up and put her belt on, and it was such a mundane, cute act that she thought that this was indeed the cruelest form of torture she had ever witnessed. He hovered over her after he was done, and stole a brief caress of her waist before crouching to lace up her boots.

He rose, and came back in front of her, and the silence between them stretched to a short eternity. There were so many things she wanted to say, things he probably wanted to say, thoughts buzzing in both of their heads like bees as his seed cooled down on her thigh and made her pants stick to her skin here and there.

She thought about thanking him for being gentle, but what was she really thanking him for? Raping her tenderly? With the attentiveness and passion of a lover?

Was it rape if she had enjoyed it? If she had had one of the most powerful orgasms of her life?

He was… she had no words for him. The way he had unraveled her in mere minutes was shocking. Devastating, to say the least.

"I will find a way," he promised for the thousandth time. "I will not let them hurt you."

She nodded slowly, continued to do so while looking at him, her eyes welling with tears.

“Hey, kleine Süße, don't worry.” He brushed her cheek with his knuckles, soft and sweet. "I will be your Siegfried."

She didn't have the heart to remind him that both Siegfried and the valkyrie died in that story.

Part 2:

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

Womanizer ft. Geto

womanizer!Geto is very much aware of how fine he is. Struts through the school with his head and nose way to fuckin high in the air. You think the hungry way the girls look at him might actually feed his energy, he seems to literally level up from it and its absolutely ridiculous. But don't think he doesn't notice how your burning gaze rake over him before you pretend it has no effect on you.

womanizer!Geto even though he's hella cocky, still has a soft heart; just doesn't want anyone to about it. Whether it's of monetary value or not, he'll help any way he can. Suguru might be sex on a stick and confident as fuck but he isn't heartless. Only Saturo knows this side of him.. Till one night when he tried to play match maker and end up spilling the beans to you.

womanizer!Geto isn't just a pretty face, so doesn't like his girls brainless. Unless its cause of his cock ofcourse. He doesn't keep em long but expects to get a bit familiar before he tries to hit. Doesn't think anyone not pursuing a higher knowledge is really worth his time. Interesting lil fact: of all the years Suguru's known you, he swiftly peeps how intelligent you are and always been.

womanizer!Geto obviously loves attention from the ladies. Like waaay too much. Turns you off matter fact. And he notices. Which is weird. Cause he usually only notices when women throw themselves at his feet. "Goin to Geto's party inna few weeks? Come on, hang with us? Could use another pretty face there." Suguru over hears Satoru ask you after class. "Hmmm.. Maybe. Though I think you two horny sluts have enough eye candy on the menu." You answer with a eye roll. "Me? We? Sluts?" He feigns ignorance as you shake your head laughing. Meanwhile, Suguru wonders when in the world has he ever thought bein called a slut was arousing cause.. His dicks startin to chub.

womanizer!Geto isnt really into easy women. Most of the cute lil thangs from school put out just watchin that talented tongue swipe across his bottom lip. Knows he doesn't have to do much work and sometimes that puts him off. He doesn't even like to talk with a woman if he doesn't think he's gonna hit but nothin gets his dick softer than a girl that open her legs to him before she even knows his name. Funny though.. Suguru notices you don't date. At all. Kinda wonders what it would take to get a chance with your pretty ass. So he asks you one day while you guys practice sparring. "Y/n, how long have we known each other?" Straightening from your fighting stance, absolutely befuddled as you answer. "Bout 5+ years, as you already know. Why?" Suguru steps closer, trailing his index finger down your cheek. "Cause I wanna know why in the 5 years that you've known me, you've never given me a chance." You tsk at him. Is he serious? "Boy, ya dick been in every one under the sun." You're response throws him off, makes him chuckle as he thinks about your words. You ain't lyin. He uses protection though.

womanizer!Geto has always had a high sex drive. Except lately. He just doesn't know why he can't get it up when he's not thinkin about you. Hasn't been interested in any of his usual conquests lately. To add to the madness, jerking offs become a pain in the ass if he doesnt let you swim into his thoughts. So he sulks and pouts about it in class one day- till he sees heading to your seat. Suguru's dark eyes are glued to how your tits slightly jiggle in your robe as you walk. Man, would bet every single penny he had that you're fuckin gorgeous everywhere. "Hi, y/n" "Hey, Sugu! Wassup?" Oh shit.. No, no, no, no.. Cute way you say his name, moist pretty plump lips, and that fuckin body.. His dick. His dick is definitely what's up right now.

womanizer!Geto usually has a harem of cute girls following him around like puppies. Not the night of his party, he trails after you like one instead. "Come on y/n, just gimme a chance." He a bit tipsy so you continuously evade him. You're soakin wet from dodging Suguru's advances, his nasty words and exploring fingers. So you head into the kitchen to poor yourself a drink and gets some space. Unfortunately for you he meets you there and you groan at his persistence. "Geto, quit it. You're just horny. And there's plenty of fuck toys round here for you to play with. So beat it." You grumble. Suguru whines at your rejection, cornering you as you try to side step him. "Don't like when you're mean to me. Or when you call me that." He lies through his teeth. Only one of those two sentences are true. "Fine, Sugu. Happy? Now go find one of your playthings. Fuckin manwhore." Okay now hes perplexed, your mean words having the same effect when you called him a slut. Suguru thinks you should know since it's your fault. He pins you to the counter, pressing his hard dick into you. You gasp, fingers gripping into the sides of his shirt, havin to fight not to let your eyes flutter shut at his bulge pressuring your tingly clit. "Can't, y/n. Dick never gets hard for them anymore. Have fucked in weeks. Can't even cum without you on my mind. Help me out, baby pleeaase." You've never seen him so desperate, pawing at your backside as he sticks his face in your neck. Won't stop dry humping and licking you as he inhales your scent. "Sugu-" He cuts you off, pleas wearing you down real quick. "Promise I can make you feels so good. Know how to make that lil kitty purr, baby. Lemme show you?" You're eyes trail off over his shoulder as you think about it. Fuck, why not? He's the most wanted attraction in town, how could not get a ride too? You accidently catch Saturo's gaze. Grin wide when he does a peace sign, sticking his tongue between the two fingers and wiggling it. He points at Suguru and gives you a thumbs up, signalling how good his BFF's pussy eating skills are. Shit, that seals the deal; you def need a demonstration. "Fine, Sugu." You feign irritation, pushin him back and pullin him towards his bedroom. "Better not disappoint me. Not gonna get another chance, playboy." Promises of your pleasure spill from Suguru's lips as you drag him by his t-shirt, him secretly hoping you'll continue your lil mean act while riding his cock.

[sophieinwonderland]

pissgenic changed their URL to syscourser-against-misinfo jsyk.

they posted something about DID being trauma based when (shocking ik /s) that's fact and what people are arguing is that one part of the disorder of DID is not exclusive to DID (aka SYSTEMHOOD).

like, yeah, no shit ofc trauma makes you have worse memory and big amnesia barriers that give you the criteria of DID. if you're a system but dont have trauma then you dont have the disorder.

i want to scream atp

Yeah, even as someone who believes DID can exist without trauma, my own opinion is that it's going to be so rare as to be statistically insignificant.

I do think the biggest stickler there is going to be the amnesia criterion as you say. There just isn't any research into systems, including OSDD systems, who don't meet that criterion.

I want to note a few things myself from that post in addition to your points.

Math Stuff

The percentage here is 1% of the general population. If we assume Tiktok as a perfect representative sample of the general population...

There should be 1.35 million Tiktok users with DID from the United States alone. This isn't including OSDD or Partial DID. Nor other forms of plurality.

Between January and March of 2023, 14 billion videos were uploaded.

This means, statistically, 144 million TikTok videos should have been made by DID systems in that three month period.

Putting this into perspective, the number of Tiktok videos made by people with DID (assuming that 1% of Tiktoks are made by people with DID) would be the equivalent to the entire population of Russia. In that three month period

"AFABs"

I don't understand why they pointed out this demographic when that's the demo most likely to have DID.

Different studies show different ratios, but with women (most of whom are AFAB) always being more likely to develop it.

By the way, Tiktok also leans female!

This means that this variable should increase the percentage of TikTokers with DID compared to the general population.

The Big Bang

I'd argue the only big bang is in awareness. If 1% of people have DID, then I think DID systems might be underrepresented.

If there's an increase in the number of people identifying as having DID, but that's still less than the 1% of the population who have it, then maybe that just means more people with the disorder are becoming aware earlier and more willing to talk about it openly.

And if a disproportionate amount of what you see on your home page is system content, as you suggest, this can easily be attributed to the algorithm.

People not in the system community would probably see little to no DID content.

This is really semantics.

John Locke defines a person as "a thinking intelligent Being, that has reason and reflection, and can consider it self as itself, the same thinking thing in different times and places."

I believe the explanation of alters in the above quotes meet that definition of a person under Lockian philosophy.

I also disagree with the idea that viewing alters as people is harmful. Viewing them as separate people can hypothetically foster both increased communication and empathy. (People tend to be kinder to others than they are to themselves.) This could aid in treating down dissociative barriers with the right mindset.

Current treatment does push parts philosophy, but treatment that leans into using person-philosophy to build empathy between members of the system hasn't yet been tested against it.

Personally, I'd love to see a person-based treatment plan devised, and an experiment conducted to determine which was most effective for the most people. As of this moment, any speculation as to which is healthier is based on opinion.

What?

The paper isn't supporting the sociocognitive model???

The sociocognitive model is the opposite of the trauma model, claiming all DID is created through fantasy! And it's clear from the moment this quote starts off calling it the "so-called" sociocognitive model that the paper isn't supporting it.

What I think they're thinking this is about is so-called "Imitated DID", which I've discussed the numerous flaws of extensively and in great detail:

Both of these are deeply flawed constructs. But DO NOT GET THEM CONFUSED!

They are incredibly different beasts!

The former claims DID isn't caused by trauma, while the latter was invented by psychiatrists to protect themselves from lawsuits from misdiagnosed patients.

[emblazons]

Saw this post and article (not for the first time, but for the first time related to Stranger Things) and started thinking.

Thinking about how M*leven's relationship (at least at the start) is the full embodiment of the "Born Sexy Yesterday" trope in the way that even its existence is a play on the relational and sexual insecurity of nerdy and insecure young men.

Thinking about the way Mike kissing El when she has no idea what romance means is literally this trope watered down because they're younger...and you can't deny its rooted in insecurity either, because even the pitch of the show says that Mike has a lot of insecurities he thinks will be resolved by the presence of a girl.

Thinking about how a lot of people who struggle with social relationships and romantic endeavors for the same reason have projected the same fantasy of "Born Sexy Yesterday" onto Mike and Eleven's romance...even though The Duffers have repeatedly made clear their plan is to subvert the trope by giving El autonomy and independence...and showing us that they don't view women as a means to cure insecurity in men...even in science fiction.

Thinking about how the reason people don't want Mike to be queer or M*leven to break up is because Mike is the one who represents the "gets the girl in spite of his rampant lack of desirability" in science fiction, and Mike not getting the girl means that a show they've projected onto is throwing a mirror in their face and saying "this wasn't right when he did it, and its not right when you do."

Thinking about how the more Eleven gains autonomy--the more she hangs out with Max (which also leads to Mike feeling insecure)--the more their relationship crumbles, because El no longer needs the insecure boy to lead her, or to give her insight into the world....which is core to this relationship trope's survival.

Thinking about the way the only thing Mike says about El is that she's his "superhero," because he never learned to view her as a whole and autonomous person--the exact same way this trope does to its female love interests. About how we know this for a fact, because Mike coming to terms with the fact that the naive girl he tried to use to fill his insecurities no longer exists or needs him is what the entirety of his first digression monologue to Will is based on in the van...including the line that made this explicit, though its been moved to the subtext again in the show itself.

Thinking about media illiterate people who think the "trope subversion" in Stranger Things is El being the one with powers isn't a subversion at all, because science fiction has been doing that shit for half a century by making women entirely out of men's leagues their partners by making them naive to the world...which is why people expected the same from Mike and Eleven after Season 1.

Thinking about why people pointing out that S4 "showing the cards" meant of Mike and El's crumbling relationship, El's full fledged autonomy combined with her now losing (removing the superhero effect even more effectively than her losing her powers did) on top of Mike having feelings for another guy is so angering for people--

--because the characters they thought were filling their toxic trope fantasies were actually turning into something else: a girl with a full independent identity and autonomy...and a boy who learned how to view his partner as an equal...once he realized he was actually in love with another boy.

The only way to deny this is to either be entirely unaware its happening or deny the subtext of this trope being turned upside its head...which is also why they probably hate people talking about subtext, right before screaming "its not that deep."

But I mean. You didn't hear it from me. ☕️

[winns-stuff]

LO REMINDER:

Forever will absolutely despise both Hera and Hecate heavily because they were never the girl boss feminists that everyone believed them to be and they quite literally take the sides of men rather than their female peers. They’re the number one dick riders for Hades and both of them failed in actually supporting and taking care of Persephone.

Hecate was studying on Demeter’s land and utilizing her own resources from that said land and knew that Persephone was not supposed to be anywhere near Hades or the Underworld. Not only did she not reach out to Demeter once when her own daughter ran away, got stuck in the Underworld, and had a place to hide away from the feds but she also allowed this grown ass man to sniff around the very naive and gullible 19 year old Persephone. When Persephone was hibernating due to all of the stress and cold temperatures that both Hades and the Underworld brought her she never talked to Hades about cutting ties with her or supplying Persephone with an apartment by herself where she can get away from all the stressors she kept her near Hades at all times. She was also the second in command of ruining her social life, she encouraged Hades to do that dumbass eye pulling thing over someone he had no business knowing in the first place and she didn’t even apologize to Persephone at all. Hecate is the biggest op ever to Persephone, she never cared for her at all and she quite literally is just Hades’ hunting dog when it comes to vulnerable women.

Next is Hera, we all know why she failed Persephone multiple times but I’m gonna repeat them anyways because the amount of shit Persephone lets Hera get away with is actually criminal. First off we have to talk about the infamous match making thing, first of all she doesn’t even know anything about Persephone? She met her once at a party while she was drunk and another time when she was literally a fucking baby that’s the only flashbacks we have of her and Persephone interacting together so why would she be in such a rush to do this anyways. Besides the fact that Hera is literally picking Persephone’s own love life for her, the girl is 19 years old Hades even said so himself that she isn’t even old enough to handle the effects of magic why the fuck are you trying to hook up this (mortally) freshly new 19 year old with someone who’s old enough to be her uncles and great grandfathers? Another thing is the fact that Hera single-handedly forced Persephone to work in the Underworld despite not having any real friends, family, or other people there was actually fucked up of her in the first place. Once again, Persephone doesn’t have street smarts and she knows nothing of the Underworld and she’s a nature goddess as well, she’s literally made of fucking plants if she doesn’t have any sunlight she’s not going to do well which is why Persephone (used to be) is always cold when she went down there in the first place. Hera did not give a flying fuck about Persephone and she quite literally only used her as a puppet just so she can get over her own fling. Not only that but the fact that Hera was actively trying to find out what happened to Persephone by discussing it with other people and not even trying to question her is wild as well. Persephone’s assault is her business and if people that Hera questioned started to catch on and question Persephone about it I can imagine that that would probably trigger her. If Hera didn’t even want to see anyone while dealing with Kronos why not give Persephone that same privacy? Don’t even get me started on the dress thing too, I swear Hera acts exactly how everyone wants Demeter to act like. You cannot tell me that Hera isn’t Persephone’s overbearing mother who forces her to do things she doesn’t want to, puts an unbelievable standard on her, doesn’t let her make her own decisions, and keeps her in the dark about things.

Anyways, moral of the story here is that along with Hades these two deserve to be up there with the true villains of Lore Olympus because they’re quite literally just like Thetis but maybe even worse honestly. They both show us where their loyalty lies and that they care more about Hades’ feelings rather than Persephone so much so that they’d throw her under the bus without remorse if he asked them to.

[angelisgonnastartchangingurls]

alice on a wednesday

annie found alice to be impossibly glamorous. she was a woman in her mid-forties. an artist of some note (annie had googled) and a professor at a local university. she had a personality that was somehow both bubbly and cool. she had very good posture and was an engaged conversationalist. she often asked annie about herself as often as she talked about herself, and annie, bamboozled by her bright eyes and alien beauty, shared too much.

"how are you? how's ryan?" alice asked inquiring after annie's boyfriend.

"he's okay, i think?" annie said. "he seems really distracted with work lately."

"a.k.a. you're not fucking," alice said.

annie chuckled and tried to regain some professional composure. "it's okay. it's fine."

"annie, honestly, it's not," alice said. "you're a woman in your prime and he should be getting you off a few times a day, lest you seek pleasure elsewhere."

"i wouldn't do that," annie said.

"i would," alice said. "and i would not feel guilty."

annie had not been surprised to learn that alice had never managed to make a long term relationship work. but romance never much concerned her. alice's worries and annoyances fell into two categories:

her mother, a wild russian immigrant who was perpetually causing trouble and

her own neurological health

alice was a brain cancer survivor, and told annie when they met that in a sort of spiritual, kooky way, she believed maintenance of her mental health was key to staying in remission. annie said that medically, she couldn't really agree, but liked the notion of it.

a side effect of alice's brain surgery was that she'd lost the ability to raise the volume of her voice -- she spoke at just above a whisper. she mitigated this condition by using a wireless lapel microphone and a little box-sized amplifier she kept in her purse and set on the table in front of annie during their sessions. it lent her voice a lightly robotic quality that annie found oddly soothing.

she asked alice if she'd ever been unfaithful in a way that had hurt anyone.

"i don't think i hurt them in a way that was unfair," alice said. "sooner or later, the people who stay in my life as friends or fuck buddies or what have you learn to travel at my speed. and why shouldn't they? it's a fun speed."

"but early on, some hearts get a little bruised and beaten."

"yes," she admitted. "when i was 17 years old, i slept with my boyfriend's older sister, and i remember he was pretty mad about that," she said. "he beat the shit out of her."

"oh, fuck," annie said. she didn't swear around most of her patients but alice never clocked it.

"yeah, i got violent with him after that, clawed him up," she said, laughing. "i still keep in touch with the sister. they made up, it's all okay."

"i mean, is it?" annie asked.

"who knows," she said. "you have a brother, right?"

"yes," annie said, impressed at alice's recall.

"robbie," alice said. "i assume you have never competed with robbie over a woman."

annie laughed. "no. i mean, that must be very rare. unless you have more histories with siblings?"

alice grinned her catlike grin. "not negative stuff no, but I have in fact had sex with two sets of twins. two women, two men."

"yikes," annie said. "i mean, not to sound judge-y. i can't imagine having sex in front of robbie."

alice laughed. "i'm basically an only child, so i don't know. i think it's different with twins. they're copies of each other. and the women, like it or not but we live in a society that sexualizes female twins so by the time i met them they had a lot of experience with each other."

"huh," annie said.

"it's initially sort of gross but when you get down to it, i don't know," alice smiled. "kinda hot."

"what did you mean when you say you're basically an only child?"

"i never told you about amanda?"

"no," annie said, fairly confident. sometimes she forgot things her patients talked about, but not alice.

"when i was 15, my aunt killed herself," alice said.

"oh god," i said. "your mom's side?"

"no, my dad's sister-in-law," she said. "his brother's wife. and you know, that was crazy, so my uncle and his daughter who was 17, they came to live with us for a year. they moved from israel."

"that must have been a series of shocks for them," annie observed.

"yeah, i mean, my cousin amanda just did coke and fucked guys in my room, but it did feel like having a sister for a while."

"in your room?"

"yeah in my room, in my bed. i used to find like, thongs and condoms in my bed."

"i don't know what it's like to have a sister, either," annie said. "but i don't think it's like that."

annie went to ryan's apartment after work. he talked to her in an almost uninterrupted stream for an hour about things going on at work until, her relentless ability to pay attention nearly failing her, she stood in his kitchen and pulled her skirt and panties off. he stopped talking and stared at her exposed bush. "hey," he said.

"hey," annie said. "fuck me."

"ok," he said.

he took her over the sink, roughly, like animals, his fingers on her clit, his lips on her neck. he was a little soft at first, like he'd forgotten how to get hard in the two weeks or so since they'd last had a vanilla, post-date screw. but all annie had to do was get a little vocal. "i'm so fucking wet," she told him, and felt him stiffen right up.

they came at the same time, annie's contracting pussy pushing his cum out around the base of his shaft. she felt it between her thighs and heard it hitting the tile floor. as she pulled away and turned to kiss him she touched herself and brought her fingers to her lips. his eyes lit up. she had him back, at least for a while.

she spent the rest of the evening in a blouse and panties, sharing a joint with ryan, watching TV with him, and then mounting him again on his couch. she didn't take her panties off this time, just pulled them aside. sometimes uncomfortable, but very effective when one wanted to feel particularly slutty. she put her tits in his mouth, bounced to orgasm on his cock, and then sat on his thighs and stroked his cum out onto her bush. cleaning herself up in the bathroom she laughed imagining telling alice about it. she was sure she'd approve.

[pinkaxolotl85]

Tiffany G from the OTW Elections

Described trans women as angry and scary

Supports Chinese state censoring and believes that Ao3 is in the wrong for including content their censors ban, actively lies about what got it banned, includes state dog whistles

Said making Ao3 look good to 'external sources' and cleaning up its image by changing the ToS is a main concern

Ignores when the interviewer corrects her inaccurate statements and terminology, only talks about herself, and doesn't spare a kind word to her fellow runners

Doesn't know the basics of how Ao3 works, suggests implementation of things Ao3 already has

Describes herself as a 'fandom newbie' who's still seeing how things work, later states she's been with Ao3 from the start, these are incompatible statements

States Ao3 is used too much for 'adult works' and that something should be done to 'change this'

Says all underage works should be censored and removed, when asked how, claims she doesn't want them censored and removed, these are incompatible statements

Works for a governmental body, unknown if it's China, but Chinese users are worried she's trying to get into a position of power to leak identifiable data back to the state, this is about real people's safety

There is no doubt that if Tiffany gets in, she will attempt to gut everything on Ao3.

I want to ask Ao3 how the fuck they allowed this user into elections, considering she's been lying about her goals, going back on opinions, doesn't agree with Ao3's core statement, and doesn't know basic site functionality, something that should have cut her out of the running by Ao3's own eligibility standards.

She shouldn't be up for vote, she shouldn't be here at all.

Since people are saying weird things in the comments and dm's:

Is Tiffany G a CCP agent? No, and if you think that, touch some grass and take off the tinfoil hat.

The last point I consider far-fetched, but added it as it's a legitimate fear for c-fandom. If she gets into the board, this type of information will not be granted to her anyway.

Do I consider Tiffany G transphobic? I wouldn't accuse her of it just yet. What I do think she is, is ignorant in general, and in how to use her words. What she does come off as is callous, immature, and unprofessional, as was shown off in her response. I do not think her callback to 'how great she is with minorities' was appropriate in any manner, and the fact she didn't realise this is telling enough.

If she gets in, will she actually be able to do anything? Mostly, no, as this is a board of people. Short term, she will be annoying to other board members when getting things done, and a poor member overall due to her inexperience, immaturity, and lack of knowledge of how Ao3 and the otw works.

Should you still vote against her? FUCK YES GO VOTE NOW, she likely won't do shit on her lonesome but you don't even want to give these types of people an inch.

I don't care about anything else, but if a candidate cannot stand by Ao3's core tenet: maximum inclusivity, then they shouldn't be allowed to fucking run, especially when they are spreading misinformation about your site that they refuse to be corrected on. What is the point of having a mission statement when people who are actively against it can swan in.

"But we also want to make sure that only effective candidates who are really committed to the OTW get elected. Someone who isn’t familiar with the OTW tools and committees already would take a lot more time getting up to speed and slow down the work of the board." - Ao3 eligibility standards itself.

[failing-to-write-again]

Imagine Confusing the Sakamakis using Optical Illusions

"Vampires are basically an evolved predator species, so their eyesight is pretty different to ours. Turns out that if you put a big geometric shape right up close in their field of vision, it confuses the shit out of their brains and, you know, makes them panic" -Trevor Belmont.

So what Trevor speaks to there is motion dazzle, a theory as to why zebra have vertical stripes. Basically vertical stripes tend to confuse predator brains more than horizontal ones due to how our eyes work. And think to what crossed used to look like when Christianity was fancy:

[photo above of potential iron age stone cross, note the intricate geometrical knot design]

[Above is an example image of vertical stripes like a zebra being hard to look at for long periods of time]

Vertical and geometric patterns which could confuse predator eyes as they do not know where to focus for a few minutes. It's not a repellent more a delay of sorts. See how even human eyes can start to make weird splotches of ovals or shapes when looking at the vertical stripes?

So from what I know of the Sakamakis they were born around the time wooden crosses were more common for poorer folk, crosses which would have less of an effect. So they probably haven't actually interacted with a cross like that which could confuse em. So imagine a sacrificial bride showing the boys optical illusions and them realising maybe some of the vampire myths hold some weight. You are already starting to get Shu and Reiji to warm up to you. For simplicity’s sake below is the motion dazzle optical illusion you’ll use.

Shu

Slowly two blue eyes peak out at you when you plop down in the hallway across from one very sleepy blonde. “I wanna make a deal.” You sat in front of the sprawled out boy holding some paper, waiting for any indication it was safe to keep talking or to leave him to his music.

After a short stretch of silence you receive an eyebrow raise, leading you to push onward. “Can you look at a picture for me and tell me what’s in it? Same return as always you can suck my blood and I won’t struggle.“ A harmless task as always for a simple favor, a comfortable habit formed not long after your arrival. Shu was hardly complaining, you were certainly less dense than some of the other women sent by the church and knew not to ask too much from him. Slowly removing an earbud and shifting to not be as slouched against the wall behind him, Shu nodded finally giving full attention to the girl across from him.

Flipping up the card revealing the image, immediately you saw his eyes begin to dart about and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. You begin to smile realising you were right.

“Remember when I said how I was interested in why myths about vampires existed? You though it was all just nonsense but thanks to my biology essay we now know where the cross thing comes from.” Slowly lowering down the card and allowing his brain to calm down you explain.

“Your eyes are more like a predator than mine so optical illusions that match camouflage patterns like zebra, it scrambles your brain for a few minutes because your eyes don’t know where to focus.“ You looked awfully proud of yourself in Shu’s eyes. He almost had to admire the fact you had figured something out he had not yet experienced. You had not yet given up on trying to find small human joys or entertainment, it was almost cute,

You didn’t get much of a response though, already getting pulled into his lap allowing him to even the playing field with his fangs...

Reiji

Three gentle knocks sounded followed by the squeaking of hinges as Reiji opened the door. “You are on time,“ a simple statement neither praising nor scolding, but the best you could hope for from the bespectacled man. Tea times had once been a cause for much more fear than now, cups laced with potions being given to you once a week when you first came to the manor. However, after a failed potion allowed you to drink and converse normally with Reiji he had since lessened the drugging to a minimum. You weren’t daft enough to question his change of heart.

Sinking into the large armchair closer to the window you politely waited for Reiji to introduce that day’s tea. “I decided to go for a simple pomegranate tea after you mentioned not having an expansive fruit palate, if we are to continue these meetings your knowledge on beverages should be improved.” You thank him for his thought behind his choice as always, allowing the backhanded complement to pass by you.

From there conversation begins as to Reiji’s recent workings and the going on of the household until coming to your current reading.

“Well, as I mentioned before I want to look into the differences between humans and vampires and why so many myths you’ve said to be false have been made. I have actually made some progress on both in the library recently,“ you begin.

“Do go on, I am more than content to correct or verify any claims made in the library.“ Reiji sets down his teacup and crosses his legs, he looked both intrigued and unimpressed at the idea of you knowing details as to how he works.

“To put it simply, motion dazzle. The myth of the cross helping preventing vampire attack began back when Catholics made very ornate crosses for their churches, these would cause motion dazzle which could be confused with being God’s will. A simple cross won’t do much but I believe your predator based eyesight would potentially be distracted by these designs.“

“I highly doubt something that simple could confuse a being such as myself, I would remember to not shape your knowledge to fit our bias.”

“Well may I ask you to see if I am right at all?“ Pulling out a piece of paper and passing it face down to Reiji you simply wait for a response. Slowly taking the paper and turning it over, Reiji immediately gets a reminder as to why he stopped drugging you. You were not dull, you were sharp and would not believe something without proof and the way a headache was beginning to form between his eyes and his inability to focus fully on the image was certainly disproving his statement. A hand coming in to block the image allowed Reiji to snap out of his thoughts. You weren’t smug however, much to your benefit, not saying anything as you moved to sit back down. At least that was what you attempted before you were moved faster than you could process to be sitting in Reiji’s chair as you hands were pinned to you sides.

“You’re lucky you at least asked before pulling such a stunt. However, I cannot excuse you trying to act above your station. You are a human, you are easily toyed with and you obviously need to be reminded of this.“ Leaning forward and burying his fangs in your neck, you knew better than to argue back while his ego was bruised like this.

Yet it didn’t elude Reiji how he had not bitten as hard as he could, and his knee hitting the floor as he drank leaving him in a position he would rather be caught dead in. Kneeling...

Well I cannot write anymore tonight. If this is interesting enough to anyone to want more of the boys I can certainly try to write more. I just thought this was a neat headcannon lol.

[hard--headed--woman]

I'm Indian and I used to be a radfem, like actively in wombyn's meets and donating to women only shelters for a few years. What changed my mind was that I found, for a radical position, many radfems were racist by omitting any conversation about it. I don't think all radfems are racist but there is an issue of them wanting to focus on "womanhood" as the bigger picture and completely ignoring the racism other women face because they think it's a separate issue. I understand misogyny affects every woman but it's wrong for so many of them to silence conversations about racism as if woc don't face both often at the same time in its own way. And overall it still holds true that woc face more ill effects from society, a lot of white radfems just don't want to accept that they could have any perceived power over anyone. It doesn't mean they're the same as men but they do not notice how the racist misogynist systems against woc are still perpetuated because they refuse to speak out on it or acknowledge the benefits they get from it.

I agree with absolutely everything you've said. Many radfems are deeply racist, hold racist views or are racist, as you said, by refusing to talk about racism because they want to focus on women - which doesn't make sense because not only women of color exist and face racism, but you can acknowledge that all men are oppressors in a patriarchy while also understanding that men of color are oppressed because of racism and fighting against that. Women of color's freedom will exist when they are free from both sexism and racism, and for that we need to fighting sexism but also racism as a whole.

I think this comes from several reasons ;

- many white radfems just don't care about women of color and racism, and many of them literally hate them. it's a terrible thing to say but i have noticed so many racist bullshit. many of this can also be pure ignorance, as i have noticed that many people do not even try to understand racism issues and to learn about poc's experiences.

- radical feminists are often uncomfortable with the idea that they have a privilege and are part of an oppressor class. i have noticed this with opposite sex attracted radfems and white radfems. i remember when i think it was menalez (not sure) made a post about how she hated white women and many white radfems got angry, while they are the firsts to say that women have the right to hate men because men are our oppressors - and well, white people, including white women, also are the oppressors, aren't we ? so it should work that way too. it is not a radical feminism issue, just a white issue in general - the problem isn’t radical feminism but white people not being able to handle the fact that they're (we're) privileged.

- radical feminists are tired of libfems, TRAs and other people in general asking feminists to include everyone in their feminism because it's about EqUalItY and tHe PaTrIaRcHy HuRtS mEn ToO and what not, which i totally understand because i am tired of this shit too, but they react the wrong way. they understand that feminism is for females only but forget that different groups of women face different struggles, ex women of color face racism, and that we have to focus on these struggles and to fight different kind of oppressions if we want all females to be free - which means that feminism has to fight against different forms of misogyny (misogynoir, lesbophobia, etc) and to overlaps with other forms of activism, like anti racism activism, that will include men. it doesn't mean that our feminism include men. nuance.

I am a white woman so I might not be the best person to talk about this but I feel like you can acknowledge all of this while still being a radfem - tho I respect and understand women of color who leave radical feminism because of racism, of course. At the end of the day, the problem is (some) white radfems and their racism, not radical feminism in itself. You can still believe in the theory and doing activism while calling out racism in the community, or even focusing on women of color. You can still donate, talk about feminism, etc. Radical feminism actually needs more women talking about this to improve. I'm really not trying to lecture you, I hope that's not how it sounds! Just giving my opinion because I think it's an interesting topic.

Anyway, I just agree with everything you said and I understand why you did what you did.

[rotisseries]

🔥 okay tell me abt sidlink

ok it sucks so bad. first of all I'm sorry to sidon he's very sweet and cool and I am about to just rip him to shreds.

anyway he is the no.1 most boring character in botw I'm sorry. of the ones with any effect on the plot. like there is one other notable male character people will ship link with (revali🫶🫶🫶) and he is far more interesting. that is better. anyway so sidon is VERYYY boring, but he's hot and sweet

so people want to fuck him so they just use link as their SELF INSERTTTTT AND THEY SHIP LINK WITH HIM AND ONLY TALK ABOUT THIS GUY TO THE EXCLUSION OF ANY OTHER CHARACTERS BUT ESPECIALLY ZELDA. and listen. this fish is gay. maybe even gay for link. this does not make the ship suck less. because link and him have next to nothing going on. where is the flavor. but mostly because again. it results in fans who COMPLETELY ignore zelda. not only in the franchise named after her btw but specifically in the games that are the most "about zelda" that a zelda game could POSSIBLY GET. I cannot stress enough how much botw zelda is the most fascinating character with an incredibly interesting arc and she does just get relegated to link's platonic wingwoman bestie. and that's if people are being kind. like ok for example link and zelda live together in totk. we're not gonna go over the details you've probably seen them before anyway from me but they do. but technically, there is just a *smidgen* of plausible deniability about this. technicallyyyyy it's theoretically barely possible if you're fucking blind, that link doesn't live in the house with zelda. the house in question was link's first. so after totk there were SOOO many fandom """jokes""" about how zelda just kicked link out of his house which grates on me for multiple reasons 1. because even if you don't ship them I think their close bond is really important and it manifests in things like the fact they live together. why can't they live together and just be friends why. do you even know what they went through together of course they live together. this is a dilution of the importance of platonic bonds. 2. after botw, people (reddit gamer dudebros in particular, I do not want to unjustly assign blame to sidlink shippers on this although I am sure some participated and/or were aware of this well enough to remember it when totk came around) would RIP into zelda about how mean and terrible she is, because she has the audacity to initially dislike link. they said she was SOOOO mean and awful to him. "zelda kicked link out of his own house" jokes just grate on me cause they remind me of this again. y'all want her to be a bitch soooo bad. 3. this pissed me off the MOST because this is the ONLY time and the ONLY way I would see people talk about zelda AT ALL. totk is even more zelda centric than botw. we are wasting our fucking time talking about that stupid ass fish when zelda has CRAZY and INTERESTING shit going on. in conclusion. fujoshi disease dot jpeg. shipping sidlink is for losers who would rather die than talk about women for 5 minutes

[chaos-event-horizon]

An update of a sort.

Have been informed that Goldie is looking at this blog and screenshotting it to make comments about how she doesn't like or support proshippers and "doesn't give special support to anyone" and that includes trans people, because trans people are normal humans, but has never once said anything bad about them or incorrectly gendered anyone.

Hmm. Interesting.

"I couldn't be further from a trans exclusionary feminist, I respect trans people and don't align myself with feminists!" || "Trans rights activists are so dramatic! The person who has called for their rights to be taken away and supports groups calling for their murder is OBVIOUSLY in the right here! They should really just listen to her, I'm sure they'd agree that they are horrible people if they did!"

Ah, yes, how big and different of you.

"Anyone with a uterus is a woman. All afab people are women. Didn't your mommy teach you the difference between men and women? I am ignoring the fact that you specifically mentioned trans people because I think that as long as I don't mention them, no one will read between the lines here when I say that if you were born with a uterus you are a woman and nothing will ever change that. This cannot possibly mean that I am disrespecting trans people because I am ignoring them."

You're right, what else could that possibly mean?

And not a proshipper? Not supporting proshippers?

Hmm. How very strange. Then maybe you should stay the fuck out of the tags and stop using them to promote yourself? Since all this shipping stuff doesn't matter to you, why bother forcing your ass in? Since you think proshippers are so stupid and dramatic, why are you using them to try to get people to interact with you-- something that clearly is not working, since you claim to not like anyone here besides the person who is telling everyone involved with "problematic" media to kill themselves?

I'd say that this could all be chalked up to misunderstandings, as it is implied that you are from Germany... however, English is not my first language, and I seem to be able to understand these things well enough.

I'm aware that there are people who follow Rian and I, and who we interact with, who still interact with this person and claim that she's a lovely person who would never hurt a fly. You know, except for the very obvious blood kink and sado-masochism. Whatever, I do not care. The only thing that concerns me is the health and happiness of my family and close acquaintances, and whatever drama is attempting to be stirred up about this is just needless internet dick measuring.

But if you're going to have a pissing contest, at least have the decency to not chew on your own feet while trying to aim. The results might get messy.

As for avditor or whatever, I know all I need to. He's an asshole who sends threats and calls people pedophiles for liking fictional things. He's a twerp. He's an idiot. He's a blowhard who is simultaneously claiming to defend and bow down to a group while talking over them and telling them to kill themselves when they correct him. And I personally think it's hilarious that he hides behind all those acts, just like you do-- and yes, Goldie, I know someone is showing this to you for your viewing pleasure, in the hopes that they get to see more drama to light up the inevitable darkness of all of your worthless existences. I'm fairly certain that if I hadn't put my foot down and turned off anon, we would have been hit by another laughable wave of bitches and cunts that seem to be at the neck and call of that sad little group.

So go ahead. Say what you will. Eat your own tail as you all bend over backwards to justify your own hypocrisy while condemning people who do far less. I quite honestly do not give two shits, except insofar as how it effects Rian. why not screen shot this and pass it to your own followers? You can circle-jerk and claim victory to your heart's content, and eat shit while doing so, as I will no longer be addressing these issues directly.

I however am tossing this whole farce aside, now. Because quite frankly I'm too busy to deal with arrogant insects. Enjoy whatever conjecture you wish to continue spinning on this, because I will no longer be publicly speaking on this matter, and neither will Rian.

But if I hear about anyone sending anon threats on our behalf, I hope you imagine the sound of my crushing your skulls and think better of it. We will have none of that.

[100hearteyes]

Late to the party. Why don’t we like Tár?

Tár is the story of a female conductor who uses her position of power to take advantage of other, younger women in her orchestra.

The predatory lesbian is a common trope of old. I say 'of old', but the truth is it's been less than twenty, thirty years since its usage mostly disappeared from mainstream media.

"But Tár is meant to show that power has no gender." Yes, but they specifically chose a woman who likes women. A very specific, very harmful stereotype. "There are lesbians who sexually harass too." Yes, but we are still fighting the perception that that's more common than it actually is. We are still fighting the perception that being a lesbian automatically means wanting all women and openly lusting after them and disrespecting their boundaries. "Equality also means getting the same villainous roles." Yes, but there is no equality at the minute. How many mainstream lesbian-led movies were there this year? How many Oscar-contending lesbian-led movies have there been in recent years? And most importantly, how many women still get spooked out by finding someone they know is a lesbian and say poisonous shit like 'as long as she doesn't make a pass at me'? How many women/girls still start avoiding a friend because they found out she's a lesbian? There is no equality, there is no equity, there is just a general warming up to the idea of lesbians. And also, and just as importantly, how come you want to pin villainous roles on us when you haven't given any of all those other roles yet? We don't have almost any lesbians in common movie roles. We don't have lesbian superhero protagonist. We don't have lesbian John Wick/Jack Reacher/James Bond. The most lesbianism we had in Disney content until Willow was a two-second kiss in SW9, some gritty, vague couple in the tv show with the dude from Zero Rogue One (can't be bothered to look up the name), and a couple random ladies who hold hands (?) for two seconds in Finding Dory. We don't have lesbian mother who hunts the people who kidnapped her daughter. We don't have lesbian Crazy, Stupid, Love or lesbian Top Gun or lesbian gangster movies or lesbian Irish farmers living their best life or lesbian crime solving or lesbian political movie or lesbian Serious Movie™. Queer people in general are still mostly stuck with conversion therapy and coming out movies, and for lesbians in particular, the blue-filter, dirty-nails period pieces. There's a subset of teen romantic comedies showing up now, which is awesome, but it's still very indie-adjacent (I love indie movies, don't get me wrong, but I'm talking about the need for mainstream content, specifically). So no, the work is by no means done yet. Equality can't be an argument, because we have NOT been given equal roles. We are still at an era where our main character trait is being queer/a lesbian (one of the most satisfying series I watched recently in that regard was a French comedy called Détox (Netflix) where one of the two main characters is a lesbian but it's just presented as a fact of life and not a character trait, which I loved - even though the show itself is not great lol).

And then in comes Tár, where a lesbian's main character trait is being a sexual predator. Where a lesbian's character trait is the arguably most harmful stereotype associated with queer women. Delightful. When we start seeing regular characters in regular films and 'oh yeah, and they're queer', when sexuality becomes more of an afterthought in a character's trait map (sexuality is never an afterthought in real life, but we need that level of normalcy and acceptance and, yes, equality in the media to help effect positive change in the real world too), then we can have movies like Tár. Not right now, when it can still do so much damage.

TL;DR - Tár is a movie that reawakens, feeds into, and perpetuates the profoundly harmful stereotype of the predatory lesbian, at a time when general common sense is at its most brittle and bigots are eager to find new/more reasons to witch-hunt innocent people who just want to live their lives and be happy.

[susansontag]

It's really not that hard to understand that their whole thing with hp and jk is the fact that the game is a turning point in letting jk get away with her views and funding of anti trans laws in the uk. She has her hands IN what gets passed there and the lgbt community sought to use her game as a lesson that you can't get away with being a racist antisemitic transphobe anymore. Unfortunately no one wants to listen to the community, because no one wants to stop and think "Hey how is this impacting my friends or youth today? What would it mean to them if we did this for them?"

And if you stopped to think you'd realize that if this had been a successful boycott, it would've been a very good opening for the lgbt community to direct our attention to important matters like the anti trans and anti abortion laws being passed in the u.s and the anti trans laws being passed in the uk.

People think they aren't fighting for other things or that they're hypocrites for only caring about hp when in reality you are treating the lgbt community like a hive mind. HP is big therefore people think it's the only thing the community cares about but it's not. You don't care about them from how dismissive you immediately are so you don't see that there are trans people fleeing states or countries because there has never been a safe place for them to exist.

All these laws have brought out the worst in people towards the lgbt community and boycotting a simple badly made video game is the easiest thing they could've asked us to do instead of telling us literally anything else that is a worry atm. It could've been a lesson to transphobes and antisemitic people that you can't be a visibly shit person anymore and get away with it but unfortunately no one cares enough to use some critical thinking skills and realize that one of the biggest ip's in the world being used as an example would've been the fastest but also the biggest way to push back on the sudden vocal hatred going on towards poc, jewish communities, and lgbt people.

I don't expect you to answer this in fact I'm sure you'll make fun of this ask but have a little empathy in your life instead of calling lgbt people (who again aren't the only ones condemning jk) hypocrites for not boycotting everything in their lives when you know it's not realistic and they know it's not realistic to ask you of this. It's why they chose hp. Because it was the easiest ask of the century and even that was too much to ask of everyone.

indeed, the lgbt community are not a hive mind (I have never claimed this), hence my disagreeing with you. boycotting the harry potter game would not get a message out about anything and isn't effective activism anyway. you just don't know what you're talking about so it is genuinely hard to get through to you and people who speak like you do... I know that's harsh, but you blatantly conflate uk debates about trans healthcare and women's spaces with us debates surrounding it, despite their being two different countries with different political balances of power having in some cases significantly different discussions. do you even know the details of these 'anti trans laws' you discuss? have you even skimmed any of the reports regarding trans healthcare, for example the cass review submitted to the nhs in the uk? do you even know the content of these debates?

trans people likely are fleeing certain countries, but they certainly have no reason to flee the united kingdom. this is an incredibly safe country for trans people; so safe, in fact, that any trans refugees should probably consider fleeing to here. there absolutely are safe places for trans people to exist and it's exceptionally irresponsible and alarmist to go around claiming otherwise

you seem very convinced that boycotting a video game will actually alter structural racism in some way, and well. I'm not even going to engage with that one, sorry. I do not need more empathy. people like you need to 'educate yourself' on issues you claim to be authorities on, because the careful consideration, the mindful debate, the baseline knowledge? it all seems incredibly lacking in people writing these strongly worded posts on social media websites

[p-paradoxa]

I feel like there’s a new round of scaremongering wrt “AI,” in that it has gotten so good that AI photos and videos are hard to distinguish from reality, therefore we should all delete our faces off the internet and be afraid to ever post them again.

to be clear you do not need to have a reason to not share your face. you can just not. whether it’s for your safety or anything else. do not feel pressure to do that. in fact I also agree that AI can be dangerous, with how datasets can be used to generate misleading info without regulation, and are used in policing to discriminatory effect.

but these were all problems before and regardless of AI. and I guess I’m a little confused about this particular argument because throughout the entire history of the internet, if someone wanted to manipulate your likeness, or manipulate your words, people did not require AI to do that. but I haven’t seen any recent arguments against Photoshop or any other picture/video manipulation app. hell, just putting your face online could be enough for people to harass you, like turning you into a meme template, no manipulation required. likewise, people have always been able to repost your sensitive photos—like nudes—elsewhere without your consent. and still, people have posted themselves online for decades, which is their prerogative.

I don’t care for AI generated shit but as usual people are acting like it’s a unique new problem, rather than addressing any root issue about why someone would benefit from manipulating someone’s photos. this could be a much-needed conversation about misogyny, transphobia, desirability, etc. in regards to safety. stuff like revenge porn. but in the same way people have skirted around talking about labor and intellectual property when talking about AI, they are continuing to do similarly with… posting photos.

because in the same breath I advocate being responsible with your personal data, I don’t see how this attitude helps people who post their face for work, people who have already posted their face and been attacked without the use of AI, and any vulnerable person who is already concerned for their safety because of aforementioned social issues.

hell, a trans woman was just kicked off this site again by staff. she was flagged even when she just posted her face. and it seems like she wanted to share her face because it gave her joy to. you could argue AI was involved but clearly there’s a pattern of flagging trans women on this website. AI just has the biases of the people programming it. not to “you can’t care about two things at once” but maybe go after the companies and social constructs that are the reasons why someone would be afraid to post themselves in the first place. yet many people here also refuse to engage with topics like transfeminism, but I digress. the reasons why someone could be targeted for posting photos don’t exist in some random vacuum. AI isn’t going to bring about the downfall of humanity Terminator-style or whatever. at least not any more so than countless other tools of patriarchy and capitalism.

(an example of this scaremongering with 20k likes in case someone says I’m making shit up. I fail to see how this phrasing isn’t just gonna make people unnecessarily stressed out. and yes, the video is just an AI-generated bird.)

like… a few weeks? as opposed to all the other times when someone’s life was ruined because they posted a few pics online? maybe AI is not the problem here