#just like. how they make the whole thing work on a budget

[spencerreidenjoyer]

we've already done it in my head | spencer reid x reader

You have fantasies about Spencer, and you feel bad about it when you have to see him at work. Thing is, he has fantasies about you too.

wc: 4.8k, rating: explicit

tags/warnings: professor!spencer, post prison!spencer, bau!reader, fem!reader, sexual fantasies, masturbation, daddy kink, getting together, hookups, friends with benefits (?), mentions of public sex/exhibitionism (they don't actually do it), fucking with feelings but neither of them really realise it yet lol...

a/n: i am insane and that's all i'll say about this fic. jk i started this at the top of the month and i'm glad i've finally finished it. this was such a crazy one to work on, aside from being swamped with school work. thank you to my lovely friend from twitter vic who kept encouraging me to work on this hehe. inspired heavily by taylor swift's guilty as sin? (obviously) and chappell roan's picture you just for those horny yearning vibes yknow? please enjoy this insanity!!! (crossposted to ao3)

Spencer rushes in from the university when Emily calls. It’s a serious case, one that Emily decides Spencer needs to be pulled away from his teaching for. She doesn’t feel good doing it – the whole team knows how important teaching is to Spencer, but he understands all the same when he comes into the round table room. Spencer sits down at the last empty seat next to you, his hair a mess as he sets down his things and flips open the case file. He turns to smile at you, before Penelope starts the case brief.

It’s a long, tiring day of work after landing in California, the BAU having been called in to investigate the murders of young moms in the area, and you need a glass of wine and a nice hot bath to even fathom everything you’ve seen today.

You should just turn in for the night, the Bureau being particularly kind with their budget as you all get individual rooms. Your drowsiness should put you fast to sleep, but your mind is racing with thoughts of Spencer.

Spencer’s been in his nice suit all day, filling out his shirt nicely. You’ve noticed his stubble growing in, and his hair is messy and gorgeous. You can’t help yourself for feeling this way, as guilty as you feel about it. You’ve been harbouring your crush on Spencer for way too long, in the couple of years since you joined the BAU. Spencer is a sight for sore eyes for sure, but his kind gentleness despite the horrors of what you all do for work is a welcome reprieve. 

While his sweet nature was what had you falling for him in the first place, Spencer could be extremely sexy, even if he didn’t know it. 

Today was especially tough for you. You and Spencer were sent in to interrogate a particularly uncooperative suspect, playing into the good cop-bad cop dynamic. Your coaxing wasn’t doing anything, and Spencer had ended up raising his voice in an attempt to intimidate them. He’d slammed his hand on the table, a loud clang against the metal, and his large figure only served to crowd the suspect in to scare them further.

You only got to know Spencer after the mess that was him getting wrongly sent to prison, but Spencer supposedly wasn’t like this before prison. Still, you found Spencer’s quiet intimidation incredibly attractive, and you had to keep your composure in the interrogation room earlier.

And your mind drifts to Spencer from earlier, his rough callousness with the suspect, his glare wild and intimidatingly sexy, you end up thinking about him.

About Spencer, who is so kind and sweet with you and the rest of the team, seeming like he couldn’t hurt a fly. 

About Spencer who could also be domineering and intimidating. He seems like he’d only pull it out if you asked, but the duality has you hot under the collar. 

Your eyes slip shut, mind swirling with thoughts of Spencer, about having him all to yourself, about him wanting you. 

About his large hands on you, making you feel so small under his firm grasp. 

About him pinning you down on the hard, cool metal of the table in the interrogation room. 

About him caging you in with his arms, the look in his eyes almost crazed and full of lust for you. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, before Spencer kisses you fervently. His stubble is rough against your skin, but you don’t care. Spencer kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his next meal, with such desperation that you feel weak in the knees.

“You’re gorgeous,” Spencer says. He kisses your jaw, down your neck, and his large hands are all over your body. You feel so secure in his grasp, he feels you up and drinks his fill of you. He gropes your tits, your thighs, your ass, manhandling you into spreading your legs, so he can press the hardness of his cock to your cunt. “Look what you do to me.”

You whimper, fully indulging in this wet dream as you slide a hand into your underwear. “Spencer,” you gasp.

“You’re so hot, you make me feel crazy,” Spencer hums, rolling his hips against you. You’re separated between layers of fabric, but Spencer humping you like this turns you on to no end. 

You rub at your clit in tight little circles, your wetness aiding the slide as you get yourself off to the thought of Spencer.

“Spence,” you moan, frustrated. While Spencer’s hardness grinding against you is literally a dream, you want to imagine his cock buried inside of you. You’re perfectly capable of moving this along, so you do. 

Magically, Spencer’s clothes are off and so are yours, the perks of a fantasy being that you don’t have to awkwardly stumble through taking your clothes off. You have a hazy picture of what he’d look like naked in front of you. You imagine toned muscle, a slight pudge to his tummy from his time in prison, his pecs filled out nicely. You imagine his cock would be pretty, as pretty as he is, veiny and thick and all sorts of perfect. 

“You’re too fucking good to me, baby,” Spencer groans, the blunt head of his cock pressed up against you now. He rubs off against you, sliding over your clit, your folds, over the wetness leaking from your whole. “Gonna fuck you so good, just like you deserve.”

Without hesitation, Spencer’s cock slips into you, the perfect thickness to make you feel full as he slides in inch by inch. 

You slip your fingers into yourself, aided by how impossibly wet you are just at the thought of Spencer, and your groan weakly. Two fingers aren’t enough, not when you bet Spencer could fill you up, like he’d split you in half on his cock. 

He pushes into you until he’s pressed flush against you, buried inside of you to the hilt. He starts to pound into you, like he’s uncaring of what you need, but the way he treats you turns you on impossibly.

Your fingers aren’t enough to satiate you, but you thrust them in and out of you in an effort to mimic how Spencer fucking you might feel. You moan, a little louder than you’d like.

“Spence–” you gasp, in your fantasy. It should be scandalous, Spencer taking you over the table in the interrogation room. You don’t know if the thought of people being behind the one-way mirror turns you on or not – being watched, letting Spencer take you in front of everybody. You like the thought of Spencer being so obsessed with you, so desperate, needing to fuck you right where you work.

The metal table is cool and harsh against your hips, but you don’t care if it hurts as Spencer fucks you relentlessly, quickly taking on a brutal pace. It’s exactly what you need, what you want Spencer to do with you, being rough and frantic enough to make you scream his name.

You whimper his name under your breath, bashful even while in your fantasy. 

Spencer has you pinned down, but it’s not like you intend to get away. You want to savour this even if it’s only in your mind, shameful as you’re getting off to the thought of your coworker. You just need this out of your system, need Spencer out of your system, and then tomorrow you can face him like a normal, well-adjusted person. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, palm grinding against your clit, fingers pressed inside of yourself. You’re shaking, with the thought of Spencer fucking you until you can’t take it anymore, the ideal of him in your mind too perfect, until you’re moaning into your hand as you orgasm. You sob, clenching tight around your fingers, feeling your slick gush out as you ride your high.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but after both a long day and a crazy good orgasm, you end up passing out with a tissue clenched in your hand, with your panties and sleep shorts kicked off to the foot of the bed.

---

Spencer can’t stop thinking about you.

He shouldn’t, not when you’re his coworker and also one of the people he’s friendliest with in the unit. 

Spencer would say he couldn’t bring himself to trust many, especially after coming out of prison, but you were the one he warmed up to the easiest. A new face in the BAU wasn’t uncommon, but Spencer had found himself drawn to you. You were kind and warm to him fresh out of prison, your tenderness a welcome reprieve as he’d gotten accustomed to being back at the BAU. With your intellect and quick wit, matched with your beauty, Spencer could not help but be attracted to you – but that’s besides the point. 

Spencer knows how much your friendship with him means to you, and he’s certain that that’s all you see him as: a friend. 

Yet, he can’t stop himself from thinking about you in those pants. Those pants that hug your curves just right. Those pants that make your ass look great – not that he was looking – especially when you’re leaning over an interrogation table, trying to play the good cop with the suspect from earlier.

Spencer had hung back, trying to get a read on the suspect while you spoke to him. Him getting to ogle your figure and stare at how good you looked in those pants was unintentional, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. 

Spencer only felt a bit bad wrapping his hand around himself in the shower, mind flooded with thoughts of you. Water, almost scorching, running down his body, his hand moves fast and reckless, exhaling harshly as he gets himself off. 

He can’t get you out of his mind, your gorgeous figure, your pretty face, your wide eyes and thick thighs and soft lips – he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were a coworker, a friend, for God’s sake, and yet he can’t stop imagining you under him. 

He can’t stop imagining pressing you against the table in the interrogation room – your lithe frame underneath him, making you look so small, making him feel so big. 

He presses his growing problem to your perfect ass, watching you writhe underneath him. You keep looking back up at him, with your wide, wet eyes and your flushed cheeks, looking like you need him to give you exactly what you need.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, and Spencer is groaning and undoing his belt before your pants get pushed down too. Stroking his cock quickly, Spencer easily finds his way to your entrance, wet and dripping with your slick. He pushes into you, pressing kisses to your neck as you groan with the intrusion. 

“Daddy,” you whimper, “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Spencer coos at you. Spencer feels you press yourself back up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and he loses all sense of control as he starts to fuck you hard. He feels like a madman, unable to hold himself back as he takes and takes and takes, fucking into your tight wetness, his head spinning with how good you feel around him. 

You’re whining and moaning under him, your noises music to Spencer’s ears as they echo off the walls. Your cunt is wet and sloppy as Spencer fucks you, wanting to give you everything you need and more.

“Fuck, baby,” Spencer groans, his hand tightly fisted around his cock. The way the tip of his cock leaks is easing the slide, as he pictures in crystal-clear detail how your cunt would draw him in, slick and messy be fucks into your perfect, tight cunt. “You’re too good to me.”

“Daddy,” you sob, your hands clawing down Spencer’s back. Spencer gropes you greedily through your clothes, grabs your tits and feels his fill of your waist, your perfect ass, your thighs as he rocks himself back and forth between them. 

“Gonna cum inside of you, love,” Spencer grunts, his pace unrelenting. His hands are on your thighs, gripping you tight, both fucking into you and dragging you onto his cock over and over. “You’re gorgeous. Gonna make a mess of you.”

You’re whining underneath him, making him feel too good, as you clench around him tight and moan even louder. Spencer can’t help himself, thrusting into you hard and fast and eager until he’s cumming.

He spills into his hand, the thick white ropes of his cum washed down the drain with the spray of the shower from above him. Visions of you flash through his mind, your gorgeous frame, your pretty face, your mouth on his. 

He’s barely towelled off before he’s knocked out in his bed, too tired to even process feeling guilty about jerking off to you. 

---

Sure, perhaps it’s childish to try and avoid Spencer all day, especially when you have an active case all of you need to be working on. You must be a fool to think that getting yourself off to Spencer would help, because all you can think about is your fantasies of him last night, how you imagined him bending you over and taking you– Not helping, you remind yourself.

Emily must secretly be on your side or be able to read your mind or something, because Spencer is relegated to work on geographic profiles and speed-read through case files back at the police precinct, while you get sent out onto the field to chase down your killer. 

But you can’t avoid Spencer forever, and you aren’t any good at it either. You feel like Spencer’s eyes are on you the whole day when you and him are in the same room, but you never look up at him to find out. While you could chalk up your nerves to a serial killer still being out on the streets, you don’t have any more excuses at the end of the day when you’ve finally caught him, and the team decides to get dinner to celebrate.

You purposely wedge yourself between JJ and Emily when you sit down at the table, trying to avoid Spencer, and you think you’re successful with getting away with seeming a little out-of-it when you end up slipping away early, claiming you had a rough sleep last night.

You’ve barely settled down in your hotel room for the night, finally feeling like you can relax, when there’s a knock at your door. You have no clue who it could be, but you open the door, and–

There Spencer is. 

“Hi,” you say curtly, feeling embarrassment wash over you all of a sudden, because all you can think about is getting off to the thought of him last night. You feel your cheeks warm, but you hope it’s not obvious that you’re blushing. Then, in an attempt to seem somewhat normal and well-adjusted, you add, “What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that,” Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s up with you today?”

You press your lips together in a thin line before you say, “Nothing’s up. I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Spencer prods, his head cocking to the side as he deadpans. “You know I can read you like an open book. Something’s up.”

You frown, Spencer stoking the flames of brattiness in you. “Yeah? Tell me what’s the matter, if you can read me so well.”

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“I- I thought we said no inter-group profiling,” Spencer says, his voice a little weak, and for the first time, you see Spencer look a little helpless. It’s kind of hot. 

Do you make him… nervous?

“Yeah, but if you insist on thinking something’s up with me…” You shrug, smiling. Spencer just blinks at you.

No. You couldn’t possibly entertain the thought. 

Spencer clears his throat. You watch him fidget with his hands just slightly, before he puts them by his sides to seem confident. “Well, you’ve been avoiding me, on purpose or not – both attest to your desire to avoid me somewhat. You could barely look me in the eye all day, which means you might be embarrassed or guilty of something, likely having to do with me.” Spencer says, his voice even, but he isn’t looking at you. 

You raise your eyebrows. His explanation is both specific and vague, and you feel slightly called out and safe from his scrutiny at the same time. But, you can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something more to Spencer’s words, the way he’s looking at you like he hopes you can’t pick his brain apart. 

So, you turn it back onto him, “Then, what do you think is the problem? You aren’t looking at me either, and you were fidgeting with your hands. Is something up with you, then? It almost sounds like you’re projecting, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer freezes, like he’s a deer caught in headlights. You can practically see his brain running a mile a minute, overthinking every possible outcome, overly self-aware of himself, his actions, his thoughts.

You try to stop yourself from smiling, because Spencer is kind of cute like this. “You wanna tell me what it is then, Reid?” 

“When did this become about me?” Spencer squeaks, his usually cool facade quickly disappearing. There’s a look in Spencer’s eyes, as he nervously looks you up and down, and oh– “I just– Well, I– You–”

“I’m thinking we might be on the same page, here,” you say, smirking. “Wanna tell me what it is?”

Spencer furrows his brows, his mouth agape as he looks up at you, but you’re putting your hand on his chest and trailing it down slowly. “Oh–”

“Tell me, Dr. Reid,” you cock your head, eyeing him up and down lazily. When you look at Spencer’s face, he’s shocked, enamoured and turned-on all in one. 

“You’re… attracted to me,” Spencer says, somewhat uncertain. “The same way I’m attracted to you.”

“And what makes you say that?” You hum. 

“I thought I heard you last night. Through the walls,” He says timidly, nothing you’ve seen from him before. “Thought I should’ve gone over to help, but I realised you were, um– You were pleasuring yourself. To- To me.”

“The walls are thin, huh?” You laugh, a little sheepish, but you note how Spencer’s becoming shy at the thought. “Did you…?”

His eyes grow wide. “Did I do what?”

You smirk. “That tells me everything I need to know, Reid,” you say, laughing.

“Well, you shouldn’t presume–”

“Shut up and kiss me, Reid,” you huff. You pull Spencer closer to you by his tie and you press your lips to his. 

It’s too perfect, when Spencer’s mouth is finally on yours. His hands cupping your face, Spencer kisses you hard and eager, like he can’t believe that he finally gets to have you. He kisses you like he’s starving, desperate for you as his next meal. You moan as his hands reach for your hips, pulling you in closer to him, greedy as he feels you up.

“Did you fantasise about this too? About me, like this?”

“This is better than I could’ve ever imagined,” Spencer says breathily. “You… You’re so attractive.”

“Could say the same about you,” you laugh, reaching to unbutton his shirt. His tie is already loose, hanging around his neck, but you want to see more. You undo the top few buttons, revealing more of his chest. You trail your finger over the exposed skin, letting your nail graze it slightly. You hear Spencer inhale sharply, and grin to yourself, proud of the effect you have on him. “So, do you want to just stand around and talk, or do you want to fuck me?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, and you chuckle. As if he hadn’t expected this was how it was going to go. Spencer purses his lips. “I mean, absolutely. I want to fuck you. But, um– We should definitely talk about this though.”

“Later,” you say, waving him off, before you lean in to kiss him again. Spencer grabs your waist again, like he needs to have you close. He lifts you slightly, making you squeak, but the both of you stumble over to the bed, unable to keep your hands off of each other, unable to keep your mouths off each other. You sit down on the bed, Spencer crowding you in with one of his knees on the mattress.

You loosen his tie and take it off, while Spencer moves to unbutton your shirt. HIs hands move deftly, eager to undress you, and he pulls away to marvel at the curve of your breasts in your bra when he pushes the satin shirt off of you. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself,” you say. You appreciate the view: a dishevelled, eager Spencer Reid in your bed, his hands all over you, his shirt half-undone, revealing tanned skin and a gorgeous body. “Need you to fuck me right now.”

Spencer laughs, perhaps a little incredulously, and he instead moves to take his shirt off instead. “I’ll- I’ll do that.”

“Good,” you say, distracted as you admire Spencer’s frame, the lines of his body, the softness of his stomach. He’s so hot you might die. “Very good.”

“I’m glad you like the view,” Spencer says, a little timid, like he’s shy to show off in front of you. He meets your gaze when you look up at him, caught in the middle of ogling him with no shame. 

You smile up at him sheepishly. “Please fuck me, Spencer.”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles, warm and gentle. He helps you slide your pants and underwear off your legs before you spread them. Spencer’s jaw drops, his eyes focused on the slick mess of your cunt. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, thoroughly amused with his reaction. “Show me how much you want me, too.”

Spencer’s hands are quick to push down his bottoms, dress slacks and boxer-briefs on your floor in an instant, wrapping a fist around himself as he works himself up for you. You can’t tear your eyes off of him – “Spencer, you’re… big.”

“Am I?” Spencer asks, and you’d lose your mind if you weren’t expecting Spencer to fuck your brains out. 

“You are,” you say calmly, because if you let yourself sound any more excited he might think you were insane. “But I can take you.”

Spencer grins. “Good.”

His fingers press against your cunt after you tell him to do so. His slender digits pick up all the slick that’s leaking from your hole, spreading it around messily as he toys with your clit. You shudder with the sensation, throwing your head back against the pillows. Then, one of his fingers slips into you, and he coaxes you open with a care you haven’t felt from most partners before. “How’s that?”

“So nice,” you groan, getting used to the feeling. He fucks you on his fingers, slow and careful, intent on stretching you out until you’re comfortable. You whimper and whine, feeling embarrassed at how vocal you’re being, but Spencer is kissing your breasts without a care in the world, and then you’re thinking about letting him know that you do feel good. Your next gasp is less ashamed, as Spencer coaxes a second finger in.

You’re panting as Spencer fucks you on his fingers, the repeated motion only working you up even more. The squelch from his fingers fucking you is obscene, and his eyes are wide as he looks at you. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. 

“Fuck me, Spence,” you say. 

Spencer bites his lip as he sits up and settles between your legs. He’s tugging at his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides his length along your folds, wet with your slick, and you groan at the friction. You grunt, wanting more, “Come on, Spence.” 

His hand on your leg, Spencer leans forward so he can press into you, and Spencer is practically folding you in half so he can fuck you. You moan at his thickness deep inside of you, filling you up, and the stretch is so undeniably amazing. Spencer’s length drags against your walls, such a delicious sensation deep in your bones, and you sob a little.

“Does that feel good?” Spencer asks softly, his voice tender. 

“So good, Spence,” you gasp. Spencer kisses your cheek, down your neck, and waits patiently for you to give him the go-ahead.

You feel his cock twitching inside of your heat, both your fantasies unable to live up to the real thing. Confident, cocky Spencer in your dreams is just that – a dream. The Spencer right in front of you is perfect, more perfect than what you’ve dreamed: shy but so attentive and sweet. He takes such good care of you. It makes you lose your mind a little bit.

“Fuck me,” you insist, and Spencer puts his hands on your hips as he starts to move. He fucks you deep, just the way you need him, and you cry out as he digs into your soft flesh, holding you tight so he can fuck you hard. The way Spencer pounds into you has your whole body trembling, pleasure coursing through you like electricity, till your mouth has fallen open and your toes are curling. 

“You’re so much better than I imagined,” Spencer groans, eyes squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into railing you. “Can’t believe this is real.”

You clench around him just to hear him moan, and you’re proud of yourself when his hips stutter and a groan rips through his throat in his pleasure. He glares at you. You grin, as Spencer keeps fucking you.

“What- Oh, fuck– What did you imagine? With me?” You gasp, as Spencer rolls his hips in a particularly deep thrust.

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, before looking down at you, like he’s really contemplating if he should say this. “I– I pictured bending you over the interrogation table. Fucking you, making you scream my name, taking you right there, I–”

You moan as Spencer hits that perfect spot inside of you, your legs trembling as you gasp, “I– Why did we have the same fucking fantasy? Fuck–”

“What? You thought of me that way too?” Spencer sounds incredulous, like he can’t imagine you thinking of him that way– As if he isn’t drilling you into the hotel bed right now.

“Fuck, Spencer– Oh, my God– Yeah, I– You had me pinned down on the table, and you were fucking me in the interrogation room, in front of all of them–”

“God, you’re perfect,” Spencer grunts, burying his head in your shoulder as he uses the leverage to fuck you deeper, harder, faster. You can’t stop moaning Spencer’s name, simply too overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he’s fucking you into the mattress. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Spencer fucking you like a madman, giving you all the pleasure you need but still being greedy enough to take and take and take. 

“Please! Spencer, you– I’m gonna cum, I can’t–” You cry, sobs wracking their way from your throat, so loud but you can’t be bothered to keep yourself quiet. Spencer groans your name, a sweet, sultry sound, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Cum for me,” Spencer hums. “You’re so perfect, and you’re laid out like this all for me. You’re so fucking hot. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You’re sobbing as your orgasm hits you, overwhelmed by Spencer’s filthy words and his filthier actions, so intense as he fucks you into next week. It’s too good, and you lose yourself much sooner than you expect. Your pussy clenches tight around Spencer with your orgasm, sending him over the edge as he fills you up, cock twitching as he cums inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, his weight comfortable as you both catch your breath. Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t care when Spencer is leaning over to kiss you again. It feels so right, this wild feeling you only thought existed in your dreams.

The next morning when the team is gathered in the hotel lobby to head to the hangar to fly back to Quantico, Emily gives you a pointed look, and Rossi is clapping Spencer on the back with a knowing grin. You apologise sheepishly, while Spencer grows red, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team. He only meets your eyes, and the two of you share a smile. You can tell neither of you want this to end here. Maybe you’ll talk about it when you get back home. 

[goldsbitch]

Not on the menu

Making out in public is not something to be shameful, right?

light smut, minors DNI, angst

note: this is my first Franco fic. this man came, served and what are we suppose to do?!

When it feels this good, it's worth breaking few rules.

You and Franco. Very well protected love affair. A fling. Just two young people who somehow end up in each other's beds whenever the opportunity arises.

Working in F2 as one of the production assistants was more exciting than one might think. Everyone would always praise F1, the size of the teams, the budgets, the glam surrounding it. F2 was different, more loose and less on the spotlight. Full of professionals, who just like drivers, worked their asses off just for a chance to progress into F1. But you were just so young, just starting and unlike with the drivers, you had no rush, plenty of time for that in the next years. It was all about learning, getting to know people and also, occasionally, having some good fun. It's hard to keep young people on a leash. Lot of travel involved, hotel rooms and many people mingling around, leads to just one thing. It wasn't special or albeit scandalous to fool around with a fellow crew member, in fact many marriages started like that, no matter the rank or department. Life on the road has its habits.

So when you first ended up on a dance floor with the ever-so-charming Franco at one of the opening events for F2, it was not such a surprise that you ended at his hotel room. Way less wondering eyes and almost no glam was at these evenings, the exact opposite of F1.

By some miracle, you managed to keep it a secret, apart from few closest friends, who served as an excuse for you two to actually hang out together. These few trusted souls witnessed their fair share of tipsy make outs and laughed collectively at your hickeys, which turned out to be his speciality. You never texted, never addressed your fling when sober. Deep down you knew you were curious to see how he was as a serious partner. But he never gave off that kind of a vibe. So you protected yourself, remained cool and decided that this was the peak your relation would ever be, and that was ok enough.

"So what about you and Franco?" a friend of you both asked you, once again. You hated when she did that. In her mind, it would be a great idea to have two of her friends together. But the truth was, she was way closer with him than you were. Nothing wrong with that, but it only reminded you of how shallow your interaction were. In order to keep you dignity while fooling around with a player, you pretended to be one as well. "You know how these things are, it's just physical. I don't think he's the kind of person I'd like to date." False. You knew that, but..! You stayed on the ground, he was just a bit out of your league. Simple as that. Soon enough he was gonna catch the eye of some model and you'll be old news. The whole thing would be way worse if anyone knew that you would actually be open to at least try and date him. It was hard to stop the daydreaming sometimes. "Yeah, that makes sense," was the only thing your friend, disappointed by your response, answered. You only wondered if she had conversations like this with him as well about you.

Life was good that one evening in August. At the time, you had no idea it will the last evening of that era. It was one of the typical dinners the wealthier members of the teams organized, a nice chill place to wind down after stressful days. You were sat few places from Franco, who was charming as ever. Raining smiles on everyone and stealing glances with you.

A text notification - Bathroom?

You gulped, locked eyes with him and gave a small nod. His smile was probably crafted specifically for you, somewhere in the depths of hell. Impossible to resist.

He got up and you followed a minute later, giving a knowing look to your mutual friend. She understood and happily covered for you in case someone else caught on.

It wasn't exactly the right thing to do, lock yourself in a room dedicated for nursing mothers. But better than blocking a bathroom.

"Aren't you a little old to be in this room?" you asked when you joined him and secured the door behind you. He was leaning over a counter, fingers tapping on the top. "I can't help it, I am hungry," Franco responded and gestured you to come closer to him. With a challenging look, you took few steps towards him. "This is a restaurant, you're at the right place."

"The things I want are not on the menu." He was done playing sneaking around and crashed his lips onto yours, as if to prove his hunger. He was just too good with his tongue. Taking you, like his little victim, making you forget the outside world still existed. His hand went to grab your neck, behind your ear, because by then he had figured out that keeping you in check was the thing that made your knees weak. His lips were locked with yours, in heated frenzy, not allowing any breath to be wasted. You knew how to play the game as well, and with a soft bite into his lower lip, drawing a gasp from him, you pulled away slightly, not allowing him to take full control. "Oh," he said, trying to steal another kiss from you while you pulled away more with satisfied smile. "Is this how it is now?" he continued, tone laced with intrigue and challenge. Your tongue reached to lick his lips once again. His hand suddenly lessened the pull towards him. "Oh, hermosa," he whispered, "two can play this game." Butterflies occupied your stomach. He stepped back and to your questioning look responded with another bloody wink. And then, then he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you up in the air and sat on the counter. You gasped, only amusing him more. Lost for words, you only raised your eyebrows. "Better," he said and with audacity only young boys have lifted your shift up. Without much of a thought you put your arms up and helped him get you slightly more naked. His eyes were shamelessly focus on your chest. "Almost there," he said and gestured towards your bra. "Go on. Take this horrible thing off." You chuckled, because as charming and suave he was, taking a bra off was a moment where he failed each time. Desire fueled you into making this quick. Now that you were sat, his eyes were at a similar lever to your boobs and there was something hot about his hungry look, watching you undress even more. Once you were finally fully bare, he observed you and the locked eyes with you once again.

"Pretty," was the only thing that he said before putting his lips on your left nipple for a gentle peck and then on the right one, which received a light bite. He decided to stay focused on that one, few kisses here and there and began to suck on it while his hand pinched the left one. Arrows of pleasure flew into your lower belly. He knew your weakness, he must have because this was sending you into other dimensions. Anything that feels this ecstatic would make anyone crumble. Whatever he did seemed to always work on you. He wasted no time with gentle touches. Not enough time for that. After nearly sending you over the edge with his lips dancing around and sucking on your nipple, moved a bit upwards and went for his signature move - marking your breasts with hickeys so purple it would take a week to heal. You bend your head backwards, trying to contain any loud noises your body wanted you to make in reaction to his actions. Another twirl around your sensitive nipple, bite into your skin and a hard squeeze. You did not want him to stop, too deep in it to think straight. But that must have been his plan from the beginning, because he put you on edge and then back away. You almost let a soft "No..." escape your mouth. With a puzzled look you slowly came down and remembered you were still in public. Heavy breaths and you gulped your way back to normal. He stepped back a bit and observed his mark on you. With an approving nod, he had the audacity to fix his boner up so that it was not so obvious. "Looking forward to seeing you later?" he asked with a tone that indicated the answer was obvious. You just nodded and reached for your bra, hoping his hickey was low enough it would not be visible. But, he had never made that kind of a mistake. You hopped down and gave him one more kiss, a slow and gentle this time, before he parted back to the dinner table. You joined in a minute, after fixing yourself up and trying to make your cheeks less red. Thankfully, there was only one another amused person when you came back to the table. Your friend raised her brows at you and drank her wine as if nothing ever happened.

Everything shower, hair on point, favorite perfume - you were all set and ready for how the evening would inevitably progress. This time you even made sure to clean your room. You got too comfortable with your expectations. Watching his every move, you noticed immediately when his expression changed from a casual smile to focused frown when reading a text on his phone. Was it something serious? Would he confide in later, sometimes it happened by accident. Secrets shared among tangled sheets. He got up and sent you a cheeky wink. You had to bite your cheek in order to stop the smile your body wanted to respond with, a small bruise burning inside your bra.

It took you fifteen minutes to realize he was not coming back from his phone call. You had his number, you could easily text him. But you didn't. And just like that, he was off to F1.

[michibap]

Saw a school that had the esports lounge in the campus athletic center. So I thought of coming out of the gym and seeing someone play a game against someone else and just (To me this is schlatt) At some point he turns around and suddenly he's aware he has an audience. A strong and hot one, too.

Maybe he gets nervous. Maybe he starts acting super cool. Maybe you laugh at him either way. Who knows?

Anyway. Saw that and thought of you. Hope you feel better after kiddiesmores ran you over

okay this is actually so fucking funny

hockey gf and esport schlatt’s beef would be crazy

-coming back to campus to find that they renovated one of your favorite weight rooms into some fucking gooncave for the school’s new “esports” league

-u and a few teammates go to check it out one dat after practice (obvi looking for beef)

-poking around at the computers and the fridge they have labeled as “gamer fuel” (it’s all gogo squeezes, mountain dew and boiled eggs??)

-finding the nerd hiding in the corner

schlatt hadn’t even heard you guys walk in, locked in on the match of whatever the fuck he was playing

-only realizes he isn’t alone after he dies and curses to himself, taking off his headset and jumping when he hears somebody clearing their throat a few feet away

-whips his head to see who was there and finds you, arms crossed over your chest and looking down at him, unimpressed

-the poorly muffled giggles from your teammates peaking over your shoulder and your raised brow is enough to tell him that he’s missed a crucial part of the exchange that he didn’t even know was happening

“Wuh?”

-he watches as your tongue pokes into the side of your cheek, biting back a laugh as you glance back at the other two girls

-and cannot help but wonder what the fuck is so funny

-WHAT IS HAPPENING??

-WHY ARE YOU IN HERE????

-NOBODY PREPARED HIM FOR THIS!!

-HE WAS TOLD THAT THE STUDENT ATHLETES WOULD JUST PRETEND THEY DIDNT EXIST????

-fuckign KNEW putting the esports lounge in the athletic center was a mistake.

“I asked where the rest of the team was… or is it league? I don’t really know how this whole esports thing works.”

-he doesn’t know if you’re talking to him

-but DOES know that he doesn’t like your tone.

-he glances around the room one last time to make you were actually talking to him before turning back to you

“‘S just me in here.”

-LOOK AROUND, DUMBASS

-he flounders a bit when one of your brows raise and your jaw sets into a firm line

“They blew half the fuckin’ budget on you?”

“I- What?”

“What the fuck is an esport anyway?” he watches you turn to look back at your teammates, who look like they’d rather be anywhere but there and mutter something like “This is fuckin’ ridiculous.” and frustratedly motioning at where he was still sitting confused in his gaming chair

-he glances at one of your teammates, who was mouthing an apology to him while the other grabbed a fistful of the back of your shirt and attempted to drag you out of the esports lounge

-you, however either didn’t get the hint, or just couldn’t stop once you started, ranting at him about something or other but he wasn’t really listening

-reclining further into his chair with a smug grin and waving at you a you were dragged out of the lounge, smile spreading when he watches your face go red and the vein in your neck pop as you get your last few words in before the door closes with an anticlimactic click

-the esports lounge being put in the university’s athletic center was a choice, for sure

-but if it means pretty buff girls coming in to yell at him is a regular occurrence, maybe the lingering scent of protein farts will be worth it

[l1ve-l4ugh-lov3craft]

Brainrotting About A Crimson Rivers Fan Film aaaaa

And because @almostafunctionaladult (hopefully that @'s you cos idk if it worked) and a grand total of four other people liked the post I made about it, I'm gonna barf all my current ideas here

Cos why not??

FULL disclaimer I laid away late into the night conjuring all of this up and when I tried to bother my sibling with all this madness it was only semi coherent so hopefully this will make sense lol Strap in.

TO START OFF! There is SO much content even just in the first arena between all the hell James and Regulus are going through, plus wolfstar's domestic romance thing they have, and all the politics and Sirius' pov in the Hallow during the games. And THEN, you have the whole entire hellscape that is the second half of the fic and the second arena and revolution and shit, so it would be EXTREMELY hard to make a single movie. The original source material couldn't even be made into one book, let alone one movie XD

Which is why I have been stewing and pondering and have decided! Do it miniseries style >:D With the VERY large and generous budget of my dreams, it would be two seasons each with 30-45 minute episodes. Season 1 is 6-12 episodes and covers the first arena as well as the aftermath and ends once James and Regulus are on their way home. Season 2 is definitely more like 12-15 episodes and covers everything that goes down in the last 30 chapters or so.

UNFORTUNATELY, I do not have that splendid or magnificent of a budget as I am just a uni student with delusions of grandeur lol

So I would pick a few fan favourite scenes from the book and make short films about those! Starting off strong with the scene when Regulus and James meet up in the arena the first time cos I ADORE that scene and I need to see it in film XD That one is ALSO very easy to do on a budget which is nice cos it's two actors (which I still need so if you're in the US of A and can make it to Idaho, hit me up whaaaattt who said that??) and a patch of trees I could reasonably pass off as a forest on camera.

Another essential would be the Bear Trap scene and I have SO many fun ideas for camerawork on that one to add to the stress and chaos >:D never lingering on one person for two long to keep up the frantic, panicked feeling in the scene. I'd ALSO love to have a shot of them all just walking and then somehow quickly foreshadow that the trap is coming just for a split second before it cuts to a wide shot of the forest treeline for James' scream as he Gets Got. Then cut right back to all of them and commence the scene. Regulus calling James 'baby' is, of course, a must have in the book-to-film adaptation partly cos it's a recurring theme and hurts a lot when Reg says it later on, and also I just like it :) I would LOVE to do the scene with the death eaters when they catch Regulus and James cos I think that one can be really fun with the expressions. And being able to put Regulus going apeshit on Mulciber for hurting James could be a super cool but to film

I want to do EVERYTHING with Evan cos I love him so much but this is getting long so I'll have to save that for another rant

OH! And how could I forget the BEATBOXING SCENE??? I feel like I'm legally required to film the bit where James is beatboxing in the arena cos it's PEAK comedy but also the right background music could really do wonders in emphasising the level of humanity James still has in him at that point and could make it just a little bit angsty :)

RAGHHH AND MY IDEAS FOR THE FINAL SCENE WHEN REGULUS COMES OUT OF THE RIVER AND THEY REACH FOR EACOTHER! Camera blur will be my BEST friend in that one, giving the illusion that the audience is kind of seeing it from James and Regulus' pov as they're losing lucidity. Maybe some brief hints of flachbacks to all the top Jegulus highlights of the arena in, like, a 'happiest memories' sort of way? But not set on that it might be too much I dunno yet. And then I want to have the very last shot be from Regulus' pov. Imagine with me: we can see his hand in the foreground as he's reaching for James but the camera is swaying and his vision is blurry. Distantly, Slughorn's voice announces the winners of the 84th annual hunger games are none other than James Potter and Regulus Black. James, who had just been staring for the longest time, looks to Regulus, and there could possibly be the slightest twitch in his hand as he reaches back for Regulus, but the moment Slughorn's voice fades, Regulus collapses completely and it cuts to black as he passes out. And that's the end of the film. Roll credits :D

That's all I got for now, and those are only my ideas for the FIRST arena but this was getting long so I gotta cut it here lol XD Anyway yeah hopefully this was semi-coherent and as cool on metaphorical paper as it is in my head lol Let me know what yall think!! And if you have any other ideas I'd LOVE to hear them!!

[thefictionshelf]

girl help! i want to write fan fiction for a niche web based interactive fiction with maybe a total playtime of 3 hours and 5 character focused scenes.

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 6!!!

[emdotcom]

*remembers what they did to Vanny* 500 FUCKING PIPEBOMB ATTACK.

[throwing-roses-into-the-abyss]

every now and then it really dawns on me that a bunch of strangers are going to pay money to see the exhibit I created and read the words I wrote and see the mannequins I dressed up and like. this is the weirdest kind of pressure.

[thewingedwolf]

one goofy ass thing i like about my job is we all really like having staff feedback after programs (like after in service, after summer reading, etc) because it just makes it easier to make it actually helpful and easier next time around and that’s all we want right, like PERSONALLY i don’t want to be anxious about a program and dreading it all year, which means i get to do what i Love which is offer my opinion constructively so i can be like “i think some people just don’t understand paylocity, it is a little confusing & for them, going through that app is this scary time sink so they don’t open it ever.” and no one is taking it personally because five other people wrote in “beanstack scares me” and “i’m not using teams” and we can just adjust our expectations of our older coworkers instead of writing people up for it akskd.

[dreamingpine]

do you think my characters hate me for loving them and hateing them and putting them thru it?

[awkward-teabag]

I hate the idea that a company should always be in growth mode and that mass layoffs, sorry, restructuring is something that should happen at set intervals. Steady profits are still profits and people will be less inclined to work or get invested in their work if they have to keep an emergency backup job in the back pocket no matter how good their work is.

To say nothing about how it limits social bonding 'cause there's only so many times you can go through seeing friends lose their job and have survivor's guilt or vice versa, or how since it's a known occurrence it means you know you're competing directly with friends.

Of course that's the point, along with the business idea that employment should follow the Pareto Principle even though it's pop science, demonstrably false, and an intentional misunderstanding of what was really an observation of coincidences.

And of course that means you're constantly shedding people who have knowledge, skills, and training to "streamline" things or to "increase production speed" when overworking already overworked employees and throwing greenhorns into it does the exact opposite.

It's not about making the company better, it's about making unionizing harder, paying people less, making it seem like the company is doing something, and giving the execs and shareholders more money.

While overworking those who kept their jobs.

[pomefioredove]

now I'm actually invested in this idea. maybe I'll write a full length fic someday idk... for now I have short hcs

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | bad ending

summary: crowley decides to "give away" yuu to the highest "donation" for financial reasons type of post: headcanons characters: all nrc students additional info: can be read as platonic or romantic, except malleus is pretty romantic, second person pov, yuu is gender neutral, maybe a little ooc I wrote this as soon as I got up

crowley has had his fair share of "what the fuck" moments from you but this was really taking the cake

he acts so... casual about it?

swaggers into ramshackle one morning and says times are tough and your personal expenses are straining the budget so he's decided to "put you in someone else's care"

"The screening process will be vigorous to make sure you end up in good hands!" like you're a cat or something "Your expenses will be covered and you'll have somewhere to go during break!"

okay great. pretty obvious you have no say in this, so you don't even argue. what's the worst that could happen?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel find you the next day to say they're pooling their money to buy you

"To what?"

Epel shrugs. "Oh, well Crowley said we need to offer a donation to prove we're capable of supporting you..."

(you think that if not for the laws of this land you would have slaughtered that old fart)

Jack goes on a really long tirade about how shady and underhanded this is, making sure to reaffirm that he believes you should be free to make your own choices

"So you'll let me go once you get me?"

"Uhhh..."

Ace thinks once they buy you you'll have no choice but to do all of his homework for him

Deuce says that's not really how it works- and even if he tried, Riddle would kill him

(they've already gone over this twice before finding you)

Epel happily volunteers to take you home with him over breaks, probably the only positive in this mess

even if he thinks the whole thing is kind of funny

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

incapable of keeping his mouth shut, Ace accidentally spills the plan to Riddle, who is understandably aghast

you can't just give away a person under your care like a toy!

of all the irresponsible things...

of course, he'll have to put up his offer, too

purely for your sake! with a nicer room and a brand new copy of the dorm rules, maybe you'll stop getting yourself into trouble

he's got some family money (doctors, naturally) and considers this a worthwhile purchase, for his sanity and yours

of course, Trey and Cater overhear and may or may not be pooling their own cash for a chance, too

going behind Riddle's back on this is a risky venture, but hey, someone's gotta be on your side, here, right?

I mean, between a bunch of sixteen year old boys, the housewarden, and them, who would you choose?

actually don't answer that

...not that it's much of a secret, anyway. Cater's already got their gofundme equivalent link in bio

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona initially plans to have you become a live-in lackey like Ruggie

but then he really starts thinking- and, hey, the possibilities are endless, right?

for one, you'd make a really good pillow

he might have to kick Grim out for your full attention, but you could learn to live with that

and malleus would hate it

...that's reason enough for him

plus, he's got money to burn, so why not?

either way, he sets his bid at a reasonable (maybe too confident) price and sits back to watch the chaos unfold as everyone scrambles for a piece of the pie

news travels fast around school, after all

then Ruggie finds out that you could dethrone him as Leona's #2 and is understandably a little annoyed

that's his cushy post-grad job gig, thank you! he's worked hard for that!

besides, why should Leona get to hoard you? the guy can barely take care of himself!

so, Ruggie ends up outsourcing to a few dozen classmates for the necessary funds at a steep I-owe-you price

he's gonna be eating nothing but dandelions for a while...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now, Azul is annoyed

once the news goes school-wide, it's all anyone can talk about

talk about good marketing...

why didn't he think of such a brilliant scam? he could have negotiated with Crowley to have a café brand deal tie-in!

of course, he's already set his bid, with Jade and Floyd offering to pitch in as necessary

it's a risky investment, sure, but a worthwhile one

Azul tells everyone that with the prefect's "obvious" popularity, having them at the café a few nights a week would drive sales through the roof

though that's really just what he says to shirk suspicion

a likely excuse coming from him, though, really, it would just be nice having you around

and if not for his own affections, Floyd's incessant begging and Jade's subtly manipulative comments about "how nice" it would be having a new face around would be enough for him to cave eventually

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"Kalim, no," is the first thing that Jamil says

"I strongly advise against this. It's another one of Crowley's silly scams and you could end up a target bec- are you even listening?"

hint: he is not

the second Kalim found out that he could get to take in his favorite magicless student like one of his treasures, he was all over it

(AKA infinite sleepovers)

and for what? a little optional donation to prove he's got the funds? he's got cash to spare!

he's already got your new room in Scarabia set up before he even puts his bid in

right next to his of course :)

and despite what Jamil insists, he himself might be working behind the curtain just a little to ensure he's the one who ends up with you

after all, why should Kalim get everything? this might be a valuable learning opportunity for him

You don't always get what you want

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

as much as Epel tries to keep the rest of his dorm from finding out, it's inevitable

he's actually a little surprised that the news didn't get to Vil sooner

with Rook around campus, surely he must have said something...

when Vil does find out, though, he just sighs

oh, of course. what next, will everyone meet each other in the arena and fight to the death over the prefect?

of all the silly, immature things...

oh? what's that? he's bidding anyway? of course he is, silly potato. he can't have some unwashed miscreant making you sleep on polyester bedding

(really, he's the only person on campus worthy of your time)

Rook has also been mysteriously absent from the dorm lately, though his initials on a poem and a strangely large sum of money end up in the donation pile

but really, that could be anyone... Rook would never dare betray Vil again, right?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ortho finds out directly from the other first years and sends Idia the details immediately

with a little note of encouragement, of course: "could be excellent for improving your social skills!"

Idia understandably freaks out

"WTF!!!! nooo way! this is a person, not a chatbot we're talking about here! I can barely keep virtual pets alive!!!!"

(liar)

(...but this is still different)

the conversation ends there, but semi-anonymous bid from someone named "gloomurai" gets cashapp'd directly to crowley

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

everyone in the room immediately turns to Malleus

"For the record, I think it's wrong to be bargaining over a human being," Silver says first. "But if anyone could handle it with grace, it's you."

Lilia laughs. "Oh, you're just saying that because you like the prefect so much!"

"Father, you're the one who likes the prefect so much,"

"Oh, right! carry on then. After all, I'm sure we could share,"

Sebek is the only one relatively against the idea, though Lilia luckily manages to get him to lower his voice after his third speech about how you aren't good enough for his liege

Malleus is rather quiet through the whole evening, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with any of the points made

he disappears for a short while, and when he comes back he seems a little more confident

though, of course, he goes to you first

seeing him at Ramshackle in the middle of the night is a familiar and welcoming sight after all of the chaos of your week

and he's in a great mood!

"Child of man! I've come with news," he says. "I have heard of your predicament and have come up with a solution!"

you immediately sulk. "Oh, no. You know I think this whole thing is terrible, right?"

"Yes, Silver mentioned you might not like the idea of being bought and sold like a trinket. But worry not, I do not plan on paying for you in money,"

you pause, at a loss for words, and then tentatively continue. "You're not...?"

"Of course not. What a primitive idea, I was baffled to hear it myself. My proposal will be more traditional: a modest sum of treasure, and a generous amount of livestock and the finest crop Briar Valley can offer,"

certainly he's not this naive, you think

"You really think Crowley is going to accept that over money? I'm pretty sure Kalim just bid away an entire country's worth,"

he laughs. "You speak as if this is some kind of business deal! I'm quite confident that my dowry will be best,"

huh. that was a strange way of putting it

but then again, you still didn't really understand how things work here, so you go along with it

and you allow yourself to relax. he seems confident in his offer, and he doesn't even see you as some kind of prize to win!

"Oh, well, alright. Thanks! I'm glad you're on it,"

he smiles. "Rest assured, child of man, you're in good hands. My dowry will far outshine the others, and the wedding will be even better,"

"I was honestly getting a little nervous for a momen- wait- wedding!?"

[pearwaldorf]

I hate that you can't see a tweet thread anymore if you're not logged into Twitter (as a gesture of disrespect I refuse to call it by its rebranded name). Here is a copypasta of a thread from Dan Olson, a Canadian documentary filmmaker, expanding upon camera quality, the guilt trips Somerton used to goose his Patreon subscriptions, and how the best tools will never make up for lack of dedication or patience. I have added clarifications in [[double brackets]] where I feel it is necessary.

START OF THREAD

Okay, so, back in April I snapped at James in reply to a tweet that was linking to this video (which James has since delisted but not deleted) and I want to talk about the full context of that but I don't want to make a video, put your beatdown memes away. [[The video has since been deleted. I can see the title of the video is "Maybe the end (not an April Fool's Day thing".]]

The first bit of context is that I initially got keyed into James to fact-check his claims about indie filmmaking in Canada. As a filmmaker the entire Telos venture was immediately obvious as a juvenile fantasy dreamed up by someone with no idea how to make a movie.

Just wild claims about their plans that weren't worth debunking because they bordered Not Even Wrong. But in watching one of these pitch videos I noticed that he had a $4000 current-gen camera in the background as a prop, and that seemed both pretentious and weird.

You don't use your best camera as a prop, you use your second best camera as a prop. So being an obsessive weirdo I needed to know, and I watched his BTS stuff until I spotted his main rig, a $6000 camera with about $1000 in accessories.

Now, these in isolation are unremarkable because his Patreon at the time was bringing in ~$8000 per month, his channel was a full on Business business, and so investing in some professional equipment of that level is maybe a bit indulgent but justifiable.

What was weird is that he doesn't shoot multi-cam, doesn't shoot outdoors, doesn't shoot on location, and in a studio the two cameras kinda really step on each others' toes. Basically if you already have one and don't need a B cam there's no reason to get the other.

Again, on its own, this says nothing, it's just indicative of poor financial decisions, maybe impulsive purchasing, Gear Acquisition Syndrome. Biblical sins, but not crimes.

Paired with the constantly inflating fantasy scope of the Telos films it was clearly an expression of a very, very common bad filmmaker habit of "if I just get the right gear then my movie will basically make itself" Buying stuff because it feels like progress.

At the end of February he tweets "I want to start shooting anamorphic" and then three weeks later in March he posts the worst, out of focus, under-exposed "I just got a new lens!" video I've ever seen, showing off his trash-covered bedroom.

Based on what's available for his cameras and the lead time, that's enough time to get a Laowa Nanomorph or Sirui Saturn from B&H but not enough time to get a Great Joy from the UK or a Vazen from China. And with the flaring blah blah blah, $1300 lens.

Again, [gear acquisition syndrome] is not a crime and these lenses are budget options. Bit of a pointless impulse purchase since he only used it for the Showgirls video. But this is what he was doing just a few weeks before that above video came out: effortlessly impulse purchasing lenses.

James has (had?) a habit of regularly, aggressively driving viewers to Patreon by claiming that videos were getting demonetized. While tacky, it is something a lot of queer YouTubers have dealt with, so there's precedent there. But people were noticing he did it a lot.

Mid-March he humble brags about needing to work so hard to make 6 videos in April because he has over-booked sponsorships.

Then March 29th James posts this whole incel screed on Twitter about how sex work should be "subsidized as a mental health service."

[two image descriptions.

1. "For the majority of people sex (and human contact) can be imperative to a healthy state of mind. A kind and talented sex worker can make someone feel wanted for the first time in their life. I know sex workers who have pulled people back from suicide just by being there for them." 2. "Not only should (sex work) be legal, but it should be subsidized as a mental health service."]

He spends several days getting absolutely *roasted* for this, just dragged across the pavement and read for filth, and doubles down in the replies the whole way.

So this is the context immediately surrounding James waking up on Friday, and posts the above video and the below tweet.

[image description: "We just got the lowest Patreon payout we've gotten in well over a year. Like, a "maybe we need to rethink things" kind of amount... NOT an April Fools Day thing btw. But I don't know if we'll be making videos much longer."]

Now, this unfolds in kinda two directions. The first is that I'm convinced he was just lying about this income shock in the first place.

There's a million theoretical edge cases about what maybe happened and if maybe he just misunderstood the data or saw a glitch and panicked, maybe one of those happened, I don't believe it, I think he just lied because he was salty about getting dragged and felt owed a win.

A big tell to me is that he doesn't blame Patreon. He says he doesn't know what happened, but let's be real, Patreon screws up all the time, they're the first people anyone blames if anything confusing happens, just as a reflex action, even if it's completely not their fault.

The only reason to not blame Patreon is if you already know that it's not their fault and that any investigation on their part might reveal embarrassing details.

Instead he indirectly blames his viewers for not watching enough, not sharing enough, and not turning on auto-renew.

So regardless of the unknowable truth, this segues into the second, far more offensive direction of the messaging itself. "I don't know if we'll be making videos much longer." "Maybe the end" He explicitly framed this as an immediate existential threat to his channel.

In the video he is vague about everything, leaves a ton of hazy room for plausible deniability on how long the channel can keep going, but the messaging is "I need more patrons right this minute or my YouTube channel is over."

He repeatedly evokes all the "fun stuff" they had planned that would never see the light of day if this didn't turn around right away.

And his audience received this message loud and clear. Tons of people making far, far, far less than him left very heartfelt messages about digging a little deeper to subscribe or up their pledge or unsubscribe from other channels to move their pledge to his.

1200 new patrons in one day.

Since I simply don't believe the income shock was real in the first place that would put his post-"Maybe the end" Patreon income at around $10,000 per month. US. Add YouTube income, he's spent the last seven months making around $18,000 per month.

I have seen creators scale back their capabilities to the bone purely to keep making videos for the love of just, like, making stuff even as their funding evaporated and they needed to go back to a desk job to cover their bills.

You'd have to be so outstandingly reckless with your finances as a channel that a one month spook leads immediately to "channel over, sorry about all the fun stuff we won't get to do with you, our patrons, specifically because you, our patrons, aren't giving us enough money"

And not a spook where you then spend a couple weeks crunching numbers. Oh no. A shock so violent where less than two hours later you're weeping on camera about the channel being over.

Three weeks later he brought a brand new Sony FX6v for $8000 CAD to add to his pile of cinema cameras despite the fact that he was, but scant moments earlier, in such a precarious position that a single bad month would kill his channel.

He stole your money, and for that I'm profoundly sad and angry. That's why I snapped at him in April. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the full context then, and I'm sorry if that anger upset you.

END OF THREAD

[bacchuschucklefuck]

soon it'll be dawn again

transcript under the cut ⏬

page 01

Fig: no way? - you're still up?

Riz: Wh– yes?

Riz: Why'd I not be.

page 02

Fig: I me~~ean - that took.

Fig: whole day.

Riz: Yeah?

Fig: 'm beat.

Riz: you should sleep.

page 03

Fig: nah. my guy's still up

Fig: I wanna hang out.

page 04

Riz: That's really nice.

Fig: Hah! - Nobody ever expects an Archdevil rockstar to be nice.

Riz: … yeah. - 's just budget work tho. (the stuff I'm working on) - I've heard it's boring.

page 05

Fig: yeah, but you do it…

Riz: It keeps things going, right? - Nothing happens if nobody sits down and - does the thing.

Fig: That's right… - though. Yeah.

page 06

Fig: sometimes it's someone else who - doesn't want the same thing to happen.

Riz: … - mm.

page 07

Riz (off screen): …It took me a long time to get that not everyone likes doing what I do. - 's probably because you guys are so nice– - or. - kind.

Riz (off screen): to anyone too, not just. - the people you /love/.

page 08

Riz: that's not how it is elsewhere. - The world's– not. hostile. - but 's not like it's kind.

Riz: So I'm doing as much as I can now… 

page 09

Fig: Hey.

Riz: ?

Fig: Go dig some dirt with me.

page 10

Riz: [blank speech bubble] - oh you meant like - actual dirt. (not incriminating information)

Fig: o yea.

Fig: there's clay in the backyard soil. - sometimes when I'm sun deficient or something I go touch dirt for a bit.

page 11

Fig: here u go

page 12

Riz: uh

Fig: now we make a thing! - 'm pretty good at freehanding a bowl.

Fig: I'll show u

page 13

Fig: just– yep, flatten that out as evenly as u can, then–! - actually ur nails'd be so good at cutting out the strip. [larger than usual space] wait. - wait. wait u can carve patterns with them! we HAVE to try

Riz: uh - What. do I carve?

Fig: anything!!!

page 14

Fig: and– yep just seal the inside uh. seam?

Fig: yep that works - okay time's up! all contestant hands up

Riz: [blank speech bubble] - okay - wh. what's next?

Fig: haha - watch this.

(sound effect text): FWOO—MP

page 15

Riz: WH– DON'T JUST DO THAT???

Fig: Now it's fired!

Riz: THAT WAS NOT SAFE

Fig: (actually it's just dry. if u add water rn it'll dissolve)

Fig: ok catch!

Riz: [blank speech bubble] - careful!!

Fig: dw no need haha

page 16

Riz (thought bubble): oh - it's warm…

Fig: now I want you to throw this.

page 17

Fig: u gotta do it - c'mon

page 18

Riz: wh– - It's like 3AM right now

Fig: oh it's not /fired/ fired it's not gonna make a loud noise

Riz: And then just? leave a pile out here?

Fig: pour water over it & it'll be gone I told u

Riz: but

page 19

Fig (off screen): RIz.

page 20

Fig: I've done all this before.

Fig: Can you trust that at least?

page 21

Riz: no, I– - I do. - I trust you.

page 23

Riz: okay what happens now

(sound effect text): glob

page 24

Fig: we do it again!

page 25

Riz: wh. [larger than usual space] What do you mean. (this clay's too wet also)

Fig: see! you're already learning

Fig: [blank speech bubble] - there are flows that are futile to fight. - The world changes.

Fig: Things change.

page 26

Fig: I've learned my lessons with "forevers". - But - as an artist

Fig: I can give you one thing: - You can always do it again.

page 27

Fig: most of everything depends on the rest of the world, - but this. - making new. - that's yours as long as you want it.

page 28

Fig: So?

page 29

Riz: Yeah. - Yeah! - let's make another one.

[grison-in-space]

Has Biden actually done anything at all? There's evidence going around and I think it's compelling, the alternate to voting is instead doing actual social work and participating in protests and organizing political action, which is a good idea i think

1) Yes. Inarguably this has been the most effective progressive domestic administration since I have been alive, and I'm in my thirties. What in the fuck are you talking about? It's not perfect, but it's better than we've seen in fifty years: Obama tried, but Democratic Congressional organization was just not yet used to working with a completely obstructionist GOP Congress in the wake of the tea party.

Even in terms of foreign policy, this is also pretty much as good as US involvement gets. Sorry. Our foreign policy has been shaped by monsters for decades, and that's even without dealing with our huge and active branch of Christian doom cultists. There ain't a candidate in the world that could stop the entire accumulated momentum of geopolitics with a snap of the finger, and I'm not really willing to pretend that Biden is particularly notable for not managing to fix Israel/Palestine relations.

2) In your own words, anon, what precisely does organizing political action entail without participating in the political process? Do you think that abstaining from the part of the gig where you, the citizen, get to say which official gets the job somehow makes your opinions matter more to your elected public officials? Have you ever organized to get so much as a municipal one-time library project budget expanded? Are you perhaps only skilled at political argument with people who already agree with you on the Internet?

What is your leverage, and could it reasonably be described as "extortion" or "blackmail" or "political corruption?" Because those are pretty much the only things on the table that can work more effectively to drive an elected official than a disciplined coalition of political allies (who can be purchased with, you guessed it, votes) or a reliable bloc of voter support. Your vote matters less than the ones you bring with you, sure. Do you think that not voting yourself somehow helps people organize to drive more votes? Have you perhaps replaced your complex reasoning skills with a rapidly dying jellyfish?

3) Holy passive vagueness, Batman! "Evidence is going around." What a masterpiece of a sentence! How it suggests everything while providing nothing! What evidence? Who collected it? Who is talking about the evidence "going around?" Who is listening? How many of them are there? What did they think before? The more I think, the more questions I have, and damn if they ain't predisposing me to be even less charitable.

Like, this is so catastrophically poorly supported that I have to confess that I not only believe this is probably an ask in bad faith (i.e. by someone who is expecting to piss me off or otherwise engage with me adversarially, probably spammed to a whole host of blogs at once with no expectation of response) but I actively hope that it is. The alternative is to have to grapple with the reality that some people are so uncomfortable with the responsibility of moral agency that they're willing to release useful levers of legal and social power just so that they never do anything problematic with that power. Much better, of course, to wash one's hands of anything that might have the stink of responsibility clinging to it. Might fall from the membership of the Elect if you actually get yourself all muddy by doing things, I reckon.

I don't even believe that voting is the only lever we have when it comes to our elected officials or that votes are necessary to secure change, and I am certainly not talking about the presidential ticket alone when I talk voting. What I do believe is two things: one, that voting is a potential lever of power on the emergent chaos of the society in which we live. And two, that anyone telling me to leave a lever of power on the ground without a damn good reason is either incompetent, malicious, or both.

[luulapants]

Existential despair is so common in a person's twenties, I think, because up until that point, we've had a pretty clear road map for what's expected of us and we haven't had much reason to question that map. There are still a few milestones outlined for us (start a career, get married, make babies) but more and more young people are entering the post-school world and realizing:

A) that career thing just isn't happening like they said it would

B) I'm not ready to get married/I don't want to get married/marriage isn't the sort of life-altering event that it used to be

C) I'm not ready to make babies/I don't want a baby/I can't afford to raise children right now (see point A)

And in the absence of these milestones to shoot for (which one could argue weren't the promise of fulfillment they claimed to be in the first place), what we're left with is this aimless abyss of "the rest of our lives" sprawling out ahead of us with no indication of how it will go or what we should be doing to shape it. Young people start their first jobs, find they hate them, and think to themselves, "Is this it? Am I just supposed to do this job until I'm too old to do it or die first?"

Which is, yeah, really fucking depressing!! So here's my best attempt at an alternate roadmap for young people that don't vibe with the old model. Please feel free to add in your own suggestions!

Learn how you work and what you want out of a job. Unless you've been in a job-specific training program that gives you hands-on experience, your first jobs should be experiments. Learn how a full-time job feels for you, what elements are more or less difficult. Different workplaces have different cultures and expectations - what do you need out of a job environment? Do you need to find fulfillment in your job or is it enough for it to pay the bills and leave you time to find outside fulfillment? Do you want to climb a corporate ladder or are you content to hunker down as long as your bills get paid? This period of experimentation is exhausting and may feel like it's consuming your whole life.

Learn how to make time for things outside of work. Adapting to a full-time work environment often leaves you feeling so drained that you can't do anything but go home and collapse on the couch every day. That's fine - for a little while. But it can also become a habit. You need to learn how to do things after work or you'll go crazy. Go to a trivia night. Start an exercise schedule. Take a class in your community. Find volunteer work. Join a band. You will find that putting more things into your day makes you feel like you have more time, not less.

Find a community. Making friends as an adult can feel impossible. Where do you find these mysterious friends everyone seems to have?? This goes along with #2, though. As you start regularly attending the same activities, you will find that repeat interactions with the same people turn into friendships or at least friendly acquaintances. Say yes to invitations. Get involved in your local community. Strive to be connected enough to bump into people at the grocery store.

Unlearn bad lessons. We all internalize some messed up things when we're growing up. As you start off your adult life, that's the time to actively work at unpacking the things you've brought with you from childhood and deciding which things are helping you and which things are harming you. This might mean therapy or joining a spiritual group or reading new things or just making special time to be in your own head.

Learn the lessons you missed. In this, I mostly mean practical things. "Adulting." Areas of your day-to-day practical life that are causing you extreme stress are probably related to a knowledge or experience gap. Do you hate cooking and cleaning or were you not taught how to do it properly? Are you afraid of making medical appointments or is it just something new you're not used to? Does money make you queasy or do you need to learn how to make a budget?

Find something fulfilling. This can be your job. It can be volunteer work. It can be faith. It can be a hobby. It can be creating things. It can be challenging yourself physically. It can be activism. It can be going for walks in nature. Everyone finds fulfillment in different places. If you're not finding it where you are, look somewhere else.