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bybdolan · 1 year

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As promised/threatened/announced, I compiled some of my favorite and least favorite metaphors/images/turns of phrases/everything that kind of falls under this category on Midnights and explained why they work for me and why they don’t. Enjoy! (Bevor we begin: @whiskeyswifty put together some of her least favorite metaphors on the album here and there probably will be some doubling. Points were made!)

FAVORITE

“From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes.” – What a genius way to signify the passage of time! Not only does it have a strong sensual element (the feeling of water on your skin, the smell and sound of a crackling fireplace), it also implies a certain loss of virility and innocence through going from an image usually associated to childhood to the scorched, burned wood of a fireplace. LOVE.

“The rust that grew between telephones.” – A little gem on a song I really dislike otherwise. It fits the color scheme of the song (very obviously the writing exercise Taylor set herself with it: “write about things that are red that you associate with the relationship” – not a bad approach per se but often led to weird moments on Midnights) and immediately communicates a loss of contact in a very sad, destructive way.

“I’m a monster on the hill. Too big to hang out, slowly lurching towards your favorite city. Pierced through the heart but never killed.” – LISTEN! I absolutely love this line because the idea of her as this large, scary being is thought through and expanded upon in a way that is so effective in evoking a very specific mental image in your mind. I can clearly visualize this creature on all fours crawling towards a skyline or something 1930s-monster-movie like that. I also like this because it goes into this slight horror element that pops up at certain points on the album but is never all that realized and tbh… I want gore!

“Did all the extra credit, then got graded on a curve. I think it’s time to teach some lessons!” – again: a very solidly thought out use of school imagery that is gleefully condescending.

“I'm the wind in our free-flowing sails, and the liquor in our cocktails.“ – Great line in a song I never listen to lol. It is, again, kind of sensual (speaks to the feeling of wind on your skin, makes you think of the sea; there is the slight burn of alcohol) and just makes you think of freedom and fun and life being easy going, which is exactly what she is describing here.

“High Infidelity” – one of her BEST titles and arguably my favorite “writing exercise” song concept because wheeew! I know she was happy when she came up with that and rightfully so! Genius wordplay.

“And maybe it's the past that's talking, screaming from the crypt, telling me to punish you for things you never did.” – kind of using this as a stand in for the entire song because I find the war metaphor to work very well as a whole (although I carry sliiight issue with it from a personal standpoint, given that it feels very clearly connected to WWI instead of just ~a war~ and it’s a peculiar choice). It’s a very tight sing imagery-wise because every lyric connects back to the main theme in a way that also makes it makes sense on an individual level. I picked this lyric specifically because it reminds me a favorite song where the singer describes his duties yelling at him from beneath the floor but he can’t hear because he is hanging out with his favorite person. I like personifications like that, and the suggestion that these influences are outside of ourselves, rather than inside.

“The tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind.” – Putting this one directly behind The Great War because a) crypt parallel and b) Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve also works sooo well as a whole because the imagery is so tight and is utilized perfectly. One of her strongest work ever in that regard, because it adds a very specific layer to the story being told without ever outright saying it.

[the entire chorus of Karma] – it’s soooo fun and tongue in cheek and every single comparison she does works so well to me. “Karma’s on your scent like a bounty hunter” is so good as well. The song genuinely has some very good metaphorical work.

LEAST FAVORITE

“He was sunshine, I was midnight rain.” / “All of me changed like midnight.” – I think my main issue with this song is also the underlying issue I have with all of my least favorite imagery moments on the album: It feels like they were forcefully included to fit the theme of the song or album, without actually thinking about how they work by themselves. Midnight rain as a concept is so broad that the lyric describing it feel weak? I suppose it is meant to signify that she is dark and moody, but it ends up feeling a bit basic (as weather metaphors sometimes do). And the idea of “changed like midnight” just escapes me because, apart from the striking of the clock in a New Year’s Eve or Cinderella way, I feel like midnights are not commonly associated with change. I get where she is coming from, but it feels so so flat to me. However, this is also the lyric I am willing to give grace considering it might simply. Idk. Go over my head.

“But your eyes are flying saucers from another planet.” – Hands down my least favorite lyric on the entire album (and one of my least favorite lyrics of all time). Again: I get the idea, but the mental image this puts into my head is just incredibly goofy. Joe Alwyn with big ol’ round cartoon eyes. Was somebody scrambling for a lyric that matched the cosmic imagery of the song but already blew “starry eyes” and “eyes full of stars” on two different songs? Mh? “Flying saucers” as an object and a word combo simply are not romantic to me. Couldn’t we at least have used spaceship to signify that he feels out of this world? Idk man

“Draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man.” – Do I have to say anything about it? By itself it would be okay I guess but using internet speech from 2014 as an opening line to a song is. A choice. Also… I thought we didn’t dress for men (or women for that matter)? Why are u then thinking about him while doing your makeup, babygirl?

“You know how scared I am of elevators, never trust it if it rises fast.” – overdone! This is not a bad metaphor per se but it sure is a familiar one and IMMEDIATELY leaves your brain. Never use a metaphor/an image you have heard before, or whatever George Orwell said. (Great writing advice!)

“Spider boy, king of thieves, weave your little webs of opacity.” – Another one of those lines where you can feel the forced concept. I know somebody was super happy with “Spider boy” and then went looking for something that fit. “Weave your little webs of opacity” is SO clunky and heavy handed! I do like “my pennies made your crown” though.

“Sit quiet by my side in the shade, and not the kind that's thrown, I mean the kind under where a tree has grown.” – Bad. Very unsuccessful way of incorporating online lingo, and the “having to explain yourself” thing through the “I mean” is sooo… scrap it. I like the tree idea though, having grown something together, nurturing the relationship like a plant, etc.

“Freedom felt like summer then on the coast, but now the sun burns my heart, and the sand hurts my feelings.” – ok including this with a caveat: I think this actually is a good metaphor. Evocative, sensual, well thought out. However! I personally think “the sand hurts my feelings” sounds goofy and I think this line also would have worked had we stuck to the “real” nature impressions. Sun burning skin, sand getting into every crevice. Something like that. I think it would have communicated the idea equally well.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Having looked at a very specific part of the album like this, I wonder about the “writing exercise” thing she mentioned on the Graham Norton show. Multiple people have said that the concept album idea does not work for them, and I think I personally agree, but furthermore, Taylor developing entire songs about a word or a specific image appears to be pretty hit or miss, since we sometimes end up with these forced lyrics where you can just tell they needed that line and wondered how to make it fit with the rest of the song instead of having it come naturally. That said: as the good examples illustrate, Taylor is a capable writer and knows what she is doing.

#was being a lil bitchy here i guess but yea #but it's a 9 to 7 ratio so! the good prevails i guess

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awstensmind · 2 years

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5th july, 4:30pm doctor’s office

Awsten’s anxiety had been building up ever since the moment he booked his appointment over a week ago. His mind was racing through all the possibilities; was it something to do with his iron levels like his hands, was those few weeks of not taking his meds having more of a toll on him than it usually would, or was it something more sinister?

He hated not knowing what was going on with him, but he hated being sat in the chair at the doctor’s office more. He wished he could stay oblivious and that all of this would go away, but he bit his tongue and sat there with the reassurance of Jawn by his side as the doctor took his blood pressure, temperature and ran other checks. He took Jawn’s hand in his own, already feeling his anxiety begin to bubble up into the territory of being too much, especially when the questions started.

“I have the notes from when you scheduled the appointment, but catch me up. How are you feeling? What’s brought you here?”

Awsten let out a deflated sigh before sitting up straight, briefly making eye contact with the doctor before going back to looking at Jawn’s hand between his own.

“I’m really fucking tired. Sorry for cursing. I travel all the time, I have for years. I’m no stranger to jet lag, but this last tour that we just got back from felt really different. I’m tired, like, all the time. When we first landed in the UK, I didn’t sleep for a week. At all. I ended up using sleeping pills to knock me out, and ever since then I either sleep for 14 hours straight or maybe ten minutes if I’m lucky.

I... I’ve felt muted for a long time now. You know in movies when someone gets possessed or something and they’re not really there mentally but they’re still in their body? I feel like that. Like I'm just going through the motions, but I can’t really feel anything.

On tour, we have this VIP thing where we have a meet and greet with fans and then do a q&a afterwards. I save all of my energy up so they don’t think anything is wrong with me for the two hours I’m with them. I leave and go to my bunk and I have to nap while the support bands play because I’m just exhausted.

I haven’t written a song in 37 days. I used to write at the very least three a week. I don’t know if my therapist told you, but I’ve been having a lot of anger issues, too. I don’t know if that’s directly related to this too, but maybe it is. I feel like I’m losing control of my body, and my mind.

I used to be so annoyingly loud and obnoxious with my friends, we used to get in so much shit because I wouldn’t keep my mouth shut on tour. It’d be chaos in the best way. But this tour? I feel like I’m in a room and no one can see me or hear me. Like I’d rather curl up in the corner of the room and just watch because I don’t have the energy to get up or talk.

I get headaches a lot. I either feel nothing at all or everything at once. I get angry and jealous easily and want to hit things and that’s just not like me. I feel really numb, like nothing can hurt me. I... I haven’t been suicidal per se, but I’ve been thinking about self harm. I just... yeah. There’s a lot. It’s an endless cycle of whatever this is making my depression worse, which seems to make this worse. I just don’t feel like myself. I don’t like myself. People have mentioned it, too. They've noticed.”

“Okay. I’m going to start with a few questions, but first, I need you to remember ‘School’, ‘Tree’ and ‘Bird’ for me. I’ll come back to that later. Have you had any changes to your medication in the past few months that we don’t know about already?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Letting out what could’ve been classed as a slight laugh if you really thought about it, Awsten shrugged his shoulders. “Um.. Kind of? I went on tour, stupidly forgot to pack my anti-depressants. My tour manager tried to get some while we were in the UK but because we kept moving around, it was hard. Jawn managed to bring me some around two weeks in. Other than that, still taking everything as I’m supposed to.”

“Did the changes to your behaviour you’ve mentioned start before or after you stopped taking your medication?”

“Before. Way before. Not taking them probably enhanced it, but this started a while ago. I’m not sure when, exactly, but at least late last year, if not earlier than that.”

“How are things at home? Do you feel safe?”

At that, Awsten became overwhelmingly aware of Jawn’s presence beside him. He did his best to not falter, answering the question to the best of his ability. “Um, they’re good, for the most part. It’s nothing bad, like, it’s not violent or whatever. I feel safe,” he confirmed quickly, sensing the eyes on him from both Jawn and the doctor. “It’s nothing like that. it’s just been quiet. It’s probably to do with me being so closed off and quiet.. I feel guilty about something but I know it’s the right choice for me. I’m just scared to bring it up so I'm trying to keep it a secret for as long as I can get away with. I know that’s bad, I know I shouldn’t. I just don’t have the mental capacity for it right now. I will as soon as I do, though.”

“Okay, and how things going with eating and exercise at the moment?”

“It’s better than I used to be, I guess. I don’t really like the food in the UK so I wasn’t eating as much as I should while we were there. I try, though. It’s kinda hit and miss. Eating is a lot of extra effort when I’m so tired. I just want to sleep. Exercise is okay. I’ve been too tired, honestly, but I’ve tried to keep a routine going for when I am feeling up for it. I try and box when I can because it helps with the anger. I stay away from cardio unless it’s tennis or something.”

“Have you been smoking, drinking or taking drugs?”

Normal Awsten would’ve rolled his eyes at that, because the answer would’ve been obvious to his usual doctor. With his current symptoms and changes in behavior, he assumed it wouldn’t be such a surprise if he had. “No. I did once, like a while ago. But that was before, and only one time. Never again.”

“Okay. I have some potential answers for you, but I’d like to take some blood samples as we previously discussed just to check there’s nothing else going on there which may be causing these symptoms for you. Do you remember those words I asked you to earlier?”

“Uh, yeah. Maybe. It was...Tree...” Awsten couldn’t help but blush as he racked his brain for any resemblance of what the other words were. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember. We’ve talked about a lot since then.”

#a #j #c #ed #hosp.

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kazuchii · 3 years

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Hihi, can I request hcs for Xingqiu, Venti, Albedo, and Diluc with a gn s/o that seems aloof but they're such an idiot? Like for the first time s/o's bf see's how soft s/o really is and s/o is kinda being a tsundere about how soft they really are. I hope that made sense ashbesjks

Aloof GN!Reader w/ Genshin Boys

A/N: Hellooo! Thank you for requesting! You’ll be my first request so I’ll do my best to fulfill everything! I hope everything seems in character, I really need to get used to writing different personality types.

Synopsis: The Genshin boys discover that their s/o is actually softer than they originally thought.

Characters: Albedo, Diluc, Venti, Xingqiu

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: N/A

Masterlist

Albedo definitely didn’t mind you being distant towards him. I mean, he struggles with interactions in general so he just assumed,

“Oh, they must struggle as well.”

He never saw it as an issue between you since he knew deep down that you deeply cared for him.

He knew you’d always come back to him at the end of the day, he fully trusted that fact about you.

Strangely enough, he found you an intriguing person due to this.

Although the citizens in Mondstadt appear to see him in a positive light, there still are many who fear him deep down. After all, he keeps his secrets zipped up inside him. They know absolutely nothing about him or anything he’s capable of.

But you…you didn’t seem to care about that. And he was thankful for that.

And that brings you to today; a bright sunny day with the rays from the sun gleaming down.

The two of you, along with Klee, were outside the walls of Mondstadt, nearby the lake surrounding the city of freedom.

Today, Klee decided to have a little play date with the two of you. While Albedo was painting away, you and Klee were supposed to play around together.

If he’s being honest, Albedo was a little nervous.

You and Klee had never played together before and due to the distant and cold personality he was used to when it came to you, he wasn’t sure how you’d react with being around a bouncy and hyper child such as Klee.

So when Albedo spotted you playing with Klee, a soft smile on your face, he had a mini heart attack.

Not because he was panicking or anything, but more because he wasn’t used to seeing you smile like this. It made his chest feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Later that day, Albedo made sure to comment on the event.

“Well, it appears you two were getting along fondly.”

“You were watching?!”

“Of course I was watching. How could I look away from that fond smile you had on your face?”

“Shut up!”

“It was very cute.”

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

Diluc and you first met months earlier. You were just another customer at first to him while he was simply a bartender.

Immediately though, he found you interesting.

While his other customers were loud and obnoxious, you would just sit at a table in the corner of Angels Share, minding your own business.

You would only ever speak to ask for another drink, which he would always provide.

“Another glass of apple cider, please.”

He doesn’t know what came over him when he decided he mentally decided to court you. He probably will never know the exact answer either.

It wasn’t the easiest either. Courting you was one of the most difficult things this man has ever done, and somehow he accomplished it in the end.

You were challenging with your distant personality, to say the least. It seemed to him that you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him, that you didn’t see him in the way he saw you.

So when you finally accepted him after weeks, the relief this man felt wash over him in an instant is indescribable.

Now present day, Diluc finds himself heading back to Angels Share in the middle of the night. The moon was directly above him as he silently walked through the city, the only other light source being lanturns.

Due to the drowsiness that he was currently feeling, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he spotted you.

“What in the world are they doing out in the middle of the night?”

But what startled him more than the time on the clock was your facial expression. For the first time, Diluc saw you smile.

Diluc just stood frozen in time as you sat there, rubbing the belly of a stray dog, an empty bowl beside you. He could only assume you’ve been taking care of a stray.

“Who’s a good boy? It’s you, isn’t it!”

“(Y/N)?”

You instantly froze in place, your head creaking towards Diluc’s direction.

“D-Diluc.”

“What in the world are you doing up at this hour?”

“I-I could say the same for you! What are you doing up this late, huh?!”

You shot up from the ground, face beet red.

“I asked you first, love.”

“NOTHING. I WASN’T DOING ANYTHING!”

“That dog below you giving you puppy dog eyes says otherwise-“

“WHATS A DOG??”

Venti was simply just strumming away at his lyre, the sound alluring the Mondstadt citizens around him as he stood at the foot of the Barbatos statue in the plaza.

His eyes were shut as he too, was preoccupied with listening to the soothing sounds.

When his fingers came slowly to a halt, his aqua green eyes peeked open, the sound of the citizens around him clapping filling his ears.

A smile morphed onto his face.

But soon that smile increased in size. Beyond the crowd surrounding him, he spotted you. You weren't doing anything special, just standing there.

“(Y/N)!”

The bard could hardly control the excitement of you watching him doing what he adored.

Although your facial expression read that of a bored person, Venti didn't seem to mind at all at that moment. Instead, he craved your attention.

Soon enough, the bard stood in front of you, his grin somehow getting wider.

"(Y/N)! Did you enjoy the song?"

"It was nice."

Nice? Only nice? Your facial expression said otherwise. Was the song boring to listen to? Did he mess up a note? Maybe it just wasn't your type of song.

Venti's eyes narrowed in thought, his lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed. He wanted you to say something more than just nice, he wanted you to smile for once due to one of his songs.

That is how you found yourself in this situation. Daily, Venti would find you around Mondstadt, play a song for you, and then wait for your response. He wanted you to say something more than the song was nice without a single hint of emotion before leaving.

But each time, that was your answer and Venti was getting annoyed. Not at you of course, but that he lacked the power to make you smile. He’s the Anemo God, but he can't seem to make his s/o smile.

So the astonishment Venti felt when he glimpsed his eyes over towards you after he played yet another song and saw you smiling ever so slightly, he almost dropped his lyre.

"(Y-Y/N)...are you smiling...?"

"Wait what-"

"I saw it! I saw you smile!"

When I tell you Venti was all over the place, I mean it. He was like a bouncy ball with him bouncing in every direction. But he couldn't control it. The pure bliss he felt in that moment took over all his actions.

"I-I didn't do anything. My face twitched."

"You can't lie to me! I saw it with my own eyes!"

The relationship between Xingqiu and you happened almost instantly. The two of you went from total strangers to Xingqiu always dragging you on his little adventures.

It all started with just a single sentence;

"Oh, you like Legend of the Shattered Halberd as well?"

Let me tell you, the look on his face when you said that. He always dreamed of having another person he could converse with when it came to books. So, the moment you said that he wasn't about to let you walk away without learning your name and other books you have read.

A friendship sparked between the two of you. He was one of the only people who would constantly talk with you even if you acted distantly. Soon enough, the two of you became a couple.

He wasn't worried about grabbing you from your home and taking you outside on a little adventure after he just finished reading one of his adventure novels. And of course, he'd always have a book with him during this time. You found that cute about him, but you never showed it.

Whenever the two of you would chat about books, Xingqiu was always shocked whenever you told him you haven't read a certain book.

"You're telling me you've never read The Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies?!"

"Never."

That's when he shoved the first volume in your face, an immediate serious expression on his face. Blinking a few times, you accepted the book from him.

"Read it and then tell me how you feel about it. I can give you the other volumes if you enjoy it."

"Okay."

Xingqiu thought you seemed wary at first to read it. He knew you weren't as majorly obsessed with books as he was, so he internally was just preparing for you to end up not reading it.

He didn't mind it though, reading wasn't for everyone after all.

The following day though, he felt the sudden urge to stop by Wanwen Bookhouse. He just wanted to skim some of the books there, maybe purchase one or two.

But those plans immediately ended when he spotted you. You were leaning against the wooden red railings, the book he had let you borrowed flipped open in your hands. And you were a chunk through it already.

Xingqiu could've worn his eyes were bulging out of his eye sockets because the one other thing he saw was the tiny smile located on your face.

You didn't seem to notice Xingqiu before he was standing right in front of you, a huge grin on his face.

"You seem to be enjoying the book I lent you. Would you care for the remaining volumes?"

You almost dropped the book as a shriek left your mouth.

"Where did you come from?!"

"Well, I felt the urge to stop by the bookhouse and saw you. So, about those other volumes..."

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, your cheeks slightly reddish.

"I'll...pick them up later..."

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #albedo x reader #venti x reader #xingqiu x reader #aloof reader #gender neutral reader #anime x reader #tsundere reader #headcanons #fluff

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misnomera · 4 years

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On racial stereotyping of the Haans in TMA...

Right so as someone who is ethnically Chinese I have NO FUCKING clue how I didn’t notice this more distinctly in my initial binge of tma (going too fast and not paying closer attention to character names and descriptions, probably) but the Haan family storyline is, all horror elements aside, pretty fucked up in terms of racial representation re: stereotyping. This got long as hell, but please please please take a moment to read through if you’ve got time for it. thanks.

To start off, the Haans are one of the few characters in tma with an explicitly specified race and ethnicity—Chinese—and pretty much the only explicitly Chinese characters in tma, other than the mostly unimportant librarian (Zhang Xiaoling) from Beijing. But like, Haan isn’t even a properly Chinese surname, at least not in the way that it’s spelled in canon (it should be Han, one a. A quick google search tells me that Haan as a surname has...Dutch origins??).

Of course, that could be chalked up to shoddy anglicization processes within family histories, which certainly isn’t uncommon with immigrant families, so I’m not going to dwell on names too much (although I also find it interesting that John Haan’s name is so specifically and weirdly anglicized that he changed his own surname?? Hun Yung to John Haan is a very big leap of a name change and frankly not very believable. ANYWAY, this is not that important. I don’t expect Jonny, a white Englishman, to come up with perfectly unquestionable non-Cho-Chang-like Chinese names, though it certainly would be nice. Moving on).

What really bothers me about the Haans is how they almost exclusively and explicitly play into negative Chinese immigrant stereotypes. I don’t even feel like I need to say it because it’s like...it’s literally Right There, folks. John Haan (in ep 72) owns and operates a sketchy takeout restaurant. They’re all avatars of the Flesh—and John Haan is Specifically horrific and terrifying because he cooked his wife’s human meat and fed it to his unknowing customers. Does that remind you of any stereotypes which accuse Chinese people of consuming societally unacceptable and ethically questionable things like dog/cat/bat meat (which, if it’s not already crystal fucking clear, we don’t. do that.), which in turn characterize us as horrible unfeeling monsters? John Haan’s characterization feeds (haha, badum tss) directly into this harmful stereotype that have caused very real pain for Chinese people and East Asians in general.

And Jonny does nothing to address that from within his writing (and not out of it either). And, speaking on a more meta level, Jonny could’ve easily had these flesh avatars be individuals of any race (like, what’s Jared Hopworth’s ethnicity? Do we know? No? Well then). Conversely, he could’ve easily, easily had a Chinese person be an avatar of any other entity. So why did he have to chose specifically the Flesh?

(This is a rhetorical question. You know why. Racial stereotyping and invoking a fear of the other in an attempt to enhance horror, babey~)

On Tom Haan’s side, Jonny seems weirdly intent on having other characters repeatedly comment on his accent (or rather, lack thereof) in relation to his race. Think about how, in ep 30 (killing floor), the fact that Tom Haan had spoken a line to the statement giver in “perfect English” was an emphasized beat in that statement, and a beat that was supposed to be “chilling” and meant to signify to us that something was, quote-unquote, “not right” with Tom Haan. Implicitly, that’s saying that it was unexpected, not “normal”, and in this case even eerie, for someone who looks Chinese to have spoken in fluid, unbroken English. Mind you, the line itself was perfectly scary on its own (“you cannot stop the slaughter by closing the door”), so why did Jonny feel the need to note the accent in which it was spoken in? Why did Jonny HAVE to have that statement giver note, that he initially “wasn’t even sure how much English [Haan] spoke”?

This happens again in episode 72 with a Chinese man (and again, his ethnicity is Explicitly Noted) who we assume is also Tom Haan. This one is rather ironically funny and kind of painfully self aware, because the statement giver expresses surprise at Haan’s “crisp RP accent” and then immediately “felt bad about making the assumption that he couldn’t speak English,” and subsequently admitted that thought was “low-key racist.” Like, from a writing perspective, this entire passage is roundabout, pointless, and says absolutely nothing helpful to enhance the horror genre experience for listeners (instead it just sounded like some sort of half-assed excuse so Jonny or other listeners could say “look! We’ve addressed the racism!” You didn’t. It just made me vaguely uncomfortable). And again, having other people comment on our accents/lack thereof while assuming we are foreign is a Very Real microaggression that east asians face on the daily. If Jonny needed some filler sentences for pacing he could’ve written about Literally anything else. So why point out, yet again, that the crazy murderous man was foreign and Chinese?

At this point, you might say, right, but yknow, it was just that the statement givers were kind of racist! It happens! Yeah sure, ok, that’s a passable in-universe explanation for descriptions of Tom Haan (though not John Haan, mind you), but the statement givers are fake made up people, and statement’s still written by Jonny, who absolutely has all the power to write overt discrimination out of his stories. And he does! Think about just how many minor (and major!!) characters are so, so carefully written as completely aracial, and do not have their ethnicity implicated at all in whatever horrors they may or may not be committing. Think about how many lgbtq+ characters have given statements, and have been in statements, without having faced direct forms of discrimination, or portrayed as embodying blatant stereotypes in their stories (though lgbtq+ rep in tma certainly has their own issues that I won’t go into here). Jonny can clearly write characters this way, and he can do it well. So why, why, am I being constantly, repeatedly reminded in-text of the fact that the Haans are East Asian, that they’re from China, that they’re Chinese immigrants, that they’re second-generation British Chinese or whatever the fuck, and that they’re also horrifying conduits for blood, gore, and general fucked-up-ness? It’s absolutely not something that is Needed for the stories to be an effective piece of horror; the only thing it does is perpetuate incredibly harmful and hurtful stereotypes.

And listen, I love tma to bits. It’s taken over my blog. I’ve really loved my interactions with the fandom. And I am consistently blown away by Jonny’s writing and how well he’s able to weave foreshadowing and plot into an incredibly complex collection of stories. But I absolutely Cannot stop thinking about the Haans because it’s just. It’s such a blatant display of racial stereotyping in writing. And I’ve certainly seen a few voices talking about it here and there, and I don’t know if I’m just not looking in the right places, but it certainly feels like something that is just straight up not on the radar for a lot of tma fans. And I’m disappointed about that.

Just, I don’t know. Take a look at those episodes again and do some of your own thinking about why these characters had to be specifically Chinese (answer: they didn’t.). And in general, PLEASE for the love of god turn a critical eye on character portrayals and descriptions whenever they are assigned specific races/ethnicities (Some examples that come to mind are Jude Perry, Annabelle Cane, and Diego Molina), because similar issues, to an extent, extend beyond the Haans, though I haven’t covered them here.

You shouldn’t need a POC to do point out these problems for you when they’re so glaringly There. But for those of you who really didn’t know, hope this was informative in some way. I’m tired, man. If some of the only significant Chinese characters you write are violent cannibalistic men with a perverted relationship with meat, just don’t do it. Please don’t do it.

EDIT: Since the making of this post Jonny has acknowledged and apologized for these portrayals on his twitter and in the Rusty Quill Operations Update, which went up September 2020. A long time coming, but better late than never. This of course doesn’t necessarily negate the harm done by Jonny’s writing, and doesn’t make me much less angry about it, but is appreciated nonetheless. For more on this topic there’s a lot of productive discussions happening in my “#tma crit” tag and in the notes of this post

#tma #the magnus archives #magnuspod #tma 30 #tma 72 #tma crit #racism #sinophobia #racist stereotyping #tw cannibalism #tw violence #long post #tom haan #john haan

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bastillewolf · 3 years

Text

It’s More About Looks Than Skill (X)

Pairing: Ryuk/Reader

Summary: Ryuk finds himself gaining feelings for Light Yagami’s best friend, but she doesn’t know he exists. When he makes the grave mistake of touching her, he makes things a lot more complicated.

Notes: New year new chapter, but let’s hope I update more frequently than that now lol. Please leave me a kick in the ass so I stop procrastinating, thanks! And also big thank you to the immense support. Love you guys <3

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list! If I wasn’t able to tag you, please check your settings and send me another ask.

Chapter X

She really couldn’t help herself. What sane person wouldn’t start screaming the second they hopped onto a Shinigami’s back and started flying? She clung onto Ryuk’s neck for dear life, her legs wrapped around his middle while his wings flapped them higher and higher until they’d reached a thick level of fluffy clouds with the dark sky above them. There, the wings stopped flapping, and she found herself gliding through the air, her hair being pulled back by the gentle breeze. She realized how harshly she was squeezing Ryuk, and quickly loosened her grip to a point that she was still comfortable she wouldn’t be able to accidentally let go.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured in his ear. It was actually very beautiful, now that she took a good look around her. Below the white, she could see all sorts of lights from the city flickering through, as if they were mirroring the stars above.

“I can take it. I just wasn’t expecting you to scream, is all,” Ryuk replied gently, “I thought you wanted to fly?”

“Y-Yes, I did. It’s just… a lot scarier than it looks. I don’t have wings, so rationally if I let go I would definitely not survive. I think even L could confirm that with percentages and a graph.”

“Rationally I would catch you. I’m heavier, I fall faster than you. You would be saved before you could say ‘Shinigami’.”

She chuckled, “Rationally I wouldn’t count on that. Maybe I don’t trust you. Rationally.”

He turned his head slightly, but she was still unable to see his facial expression from her position on his back. However, it became rather apparent through the sad note in his voice when he spoke. “You don’t trust me?”

She quickly shook her head, “No, I’m sorry Ryuk, that’s not what I meant. I mean that I should rationally not count on you catching me if I fall. I made the decision to hop on your back, thus it is my responsibility to take responsibility for my actions and face the consequences. If I fall, it would be my mistake.”

“Even if it were, I’d still catch you. I’d always catch you.”

She felt a sense of ease wash over her, along with a tingle in her stomach, but she wasn’t quite sure what that meant. She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder, and breathing in a waft of fresh air that dragged along a hint of Light’s cologne. “How come you’re never this nice to Light?”

Ryuk chuckled dryly. “Because he’s not you.”

He felt a blush coat his cheeks when he felt her hands running along the feathers of his wings in a slow, gentle manner. She kept doing this until they’d landed, and then proceeded to latch onto his hand after they’d landed in the back of an alleyway.

Even if you do not actually possess the Death Note, the effect will be the same if you recognize the person and his/her name to place in the blank.

Ryuk was in love. There, he could finally say it. He’d been on a date and now he could say he was in love. He was slightly hunched over so the girl could hold his hand without people noticing at her side, but not for one second did he feel an ache in his back. All he could think about was the way she’d clung onto him, how she’d touched him, how sweet she’d sounded muttering nothings in his ear while she stroked his feathers. Affection wasn’t something that came naturally to him, Shinigami’s never really deemed such thing necessary. Yet with her, he seemed to want to keep her hand in his forever.

Unfortunately, fate seemed to have other plans for him, because she was the one who dropped it like a ton of bricks, along with his heart. Then he noticed the reason for her sudden shift, and it was standing in front of Light’s house. She lightly tugged on the chain that was stuck to the other death note he was carrying and kept her fingers wound tightly around it, but he didn’t mind. If she wanted to take his Death Note, she could go right ahead and do it. That’s how happy he was.

Until he met the bleak pale-yellow eyes of the tall creature hovering above the blonde stranger in front of them.

***

“Okay, Ryuk, we need to have a little talk,” Light started. They’d just been at the hotel, where they’d found out the second Kira was willing to do everything Light wanted them to do. They were supposed to set up a meeting place and Light wanted to prepare. She knew a round of questioning was about to begin, so she plopped down onto his bed in an instant.

Ryuk sighed, “Should’ve known.”

“And I’d appreciate an answer if you could,” Light added. “If two Shinigami happened to meet in the human world, are they allowed to speak to each other?”

“Hard to say,” the Shinigami replied. “As long as I’m attached to a human, I’d say it’s against the rules unless I had their permission first. But there are no laws against it either, so I guess it’s possible that another Shinigami might talk to me.”

“So, does that mean that if this fake Kira’s Shinigami were to see you, there’s a chance he might mention the fact that you’re with me and reveal that I’m Kira?”

“They probably wouldn’t, but it depends on their personality.”

“And if this kind of situation did arise I can assume you’ll act the way you normally do?”

“Yeah,” Ryuk said, “Even if I see another human with a Shinigami I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Well, I definitely think you’ve got the right approach.”

“Humph, thanks.”

***

“Oops,” he couldn’t help but curse under his breath, recalling the conversation he’d had with Light. He didn’t recognize the Shinigami before them, but if they wanted to, they could directly link Ryuk to the girl that was latching onto him. They might think she was the real Kira.

Though the latest message had already revealed Light’s stunt in the city with the group of people surrounding Ryuk had been a failure and he had been discovered to the fake Kira, there would be no good explanation for him to be hanging around this human.

Luckily for him, the other Shinigami remained deathly silent, until the girl at her side turned.

“Oh, hello there!” she said.

She blinked in response. “Uh… I- Uh… Aren’t you that girl from TV?”

The blonde giggled profusely, suddenly walking up to her as casual as could be. “Yes, I’m Misa, nice to meet you! Do you want an autograph?”

She scratched the back of her head awkwardly, “Uh, no, I think I’m good. Were you looking for Light?”

“Eh?” Ryuk vocalized. He didn’t expect her to be so blunt about it. But then again, he realized, Light had most likely already been discovered. He just didn’t know how she detected that this was the second Kira without being able to see the second Shinigami floating only a few feet away.

“Oh, I was. Are you friends with him?” Misa’s head turned, but her eyes held a sudden blank expression as if her mind were calculating a proper physical response once she’d gotten answers.

“Yeah, for like, my entire life. How do you know him?”

“Oh… I just, I found the notebook he left in class. Then I looked him up online and I thought his resume was very… impressive. I just really wanted to meet him, he seems like such an intelligent guy.”

Ryuk heard the other Shinigami audibly sigh.

“Well, why don’t I introduce the two of you then? I’m sure he’s still up at this hour, and I was just on my way to see him now.”

“S-Sure!” Misa replied hesitantly.

She wished Light’s sister, Sayu, could’ve at the very least toned down her excitement a bit when she met Misa, but alas, she was in awe, as well as the girl’s mother. Light eventually came trotting down the stairs behind them, his neutral facial expression continuing to withstand even as he saw the strange scene before him. He managed to shoo his family members away and closed the front door behind him. She could’ve sworn she hadn’t heard crickets chirping before that.

“Uhm, pleased to meet you,” Misa started, sinking to her knees in a bow, “I’m Misa Amane.” She then glanced at you, and back at Light again.

Ryuk chuckled until he heard the other God of Death say, “Misa, the girl is being followed by another Shinigami. I doubt she isn’t aware of it.”

Misa made a noise of understanding, before looking at the odd placement of your hand which was still wrapped around Ryuk’s chain. “I thought you might get worried if you saw that message on TV. I just couldn’t take it anymore so I brought… this notebook.” She held out an identical copy of his Death Note in front of Light, and Ryuk heard the girl next to him audibly groan. Of course, the girl had no issue showing something like that out in the open. It was like she had no idea.

Light touched it, yet he made no sound. “Does she know? About all of it?” Misa questioned, directedly pointing her gaze at his best friend. Light nodded, so she was allowed to touch it as well. She very much tried, but unfortunately, her poker face wasn’t as good as Light’s, so she ended up with her mouth slightly agape. Ryuk lifted a finger to close it.

They decided it would be best to move the conversation inside, so they did, and Light had cautiously locked his bedroom door behind them after making sure his mother and sister thought this was just a nice drop-by from his (girl)friend.

“Have a seat.”

As Misa sat in Light’s desk chair, his best friend scooted onto the mattress behind him with Ryuk towering over them at the bedside. Her Shinigami, a pale skeleton with yellow eyes and purple hair and what appeared to be vampiric teeth, stood guard behind Misa.

“How did you find me?” Light decided to ask.

She answered with a gasp, “I knew it! You never made the Shinigami-eye deal. When you have the Shinigami-eyes like I do, you can see most people’s name and lifespan just by looking at them. However, you can’t see the lifespan of any person who possesses a Death Note.”

Light glanced over at Ryuk, looking for an explanation, but Ryuk seemed just as shocked. “No kidding! I have to admit, even I wasn’t aware of that little detail.”

“Well, now you’ve managed to find me, but you were careless; what if you’d been caught by the police? Then they’d know everything about Kira!”

“It’s all right,” Misa said, “Because the police didn’t catch me and if I do as you say from now on, they’ll never be able to. So we’re safe. After all, don’t you need someone to see L’s name? If you want, I could be your eyes. So…”

“Yeah? So what?”

“-Would you please make me your girlfriend?”

Both Ryuk and the girl behind him burst out laughing, but he decidedly ignored them. He then proceeded to question her about her strategy in the city, as well as the evidence she could’ve left behind. She ended up even offering her Death Note to him, and while she’d still be the rightful owner, Light would be in control of it, and she of her Shinigami-eyes.

“-And if I become a burden to you, you can just kill me, okay?” Misa said pleadingly.

“But you might’ve removed several pages from your Death Note, you could be hiding them somewhere for all I know!”

“Why are you so suspicious of me?” she cried out, getting up from the chair and stomping her foot on the floor, “I already told you, I don’t care even if all you do is use me! Please believe me!”

“Why are you so willing to give up your life for him?” (Y/N) asked, and Light had to admit, that was the question he’d been building towards this entire time.

“Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to understand-“ Misa spat.

“Hey,” Light barked, “If you want to show your loyalty, how about you start being nicer to the only person I’ve trusted with my secret so far and has kept it?”

“How can you be so sure you can trust her?! I bet she’s only in it so she can take it from you after you’re dead, so she can become the new Kira!”

“How dare you!” (Y/N) snarled warningly, but Misa was already launching herself at the girl.

Light hadn’t quite seen that coming. Thankfully, Ryuk had. He took the blonde girl by her arm and lifted her until her feet didn’t touch the floor anymore and she’d let out a startled scream. He noticed the other Shinigami wanted to step in already, but Light was faster. “Misa, if you and I were to work together, I need to know you can make rational decisions without letting your emotions get the better of you. Can you do that?”

She didn’t really look at him, so he decided to repeat himself, this time a bit more convincingly, “If you were to be my girlfriend, I need to know if you can tolerate being around my best friend.”

At this, she lit up, and Ryuk was quick to let go of her.

When she’d finally left, the girl he’d just been on a date with was now slung around his neck, having climbed on top of the bed to be able to reach him. His large hands grasped her sides, and his smile had grown even wider.

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sniper-childe · 3 years

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Hello! I’d like to share some of my notes if I were to Beta-read the most recent Archon Quest. I will be going through what worked, what could be taken out, and what could’ve been better. Note that I’m looking at this through an editor’s lens so I’m going to try NOT to change the plot we were given no matter what my opinions are about it BUT some of the said opinions may slip out.

Also, a bit of a disclaimer: I know that Genshin isn’t an actual literary work but miHoYo is known for its writers’ great storytelling and I’ve always loved their work so it really came as a surprise as to what happened to the mess that is Inazuma Act 3. So yeah.

Contains:

1. What was foreshadowed about the characters and why the payoff of their portrayals felt cheap.

a. About Kokomi and the rebellion.

b. About the Fatui, the James Bond villain wannabe.

c. About Ei and the Raiden Shogun.

2. How Chapter 2, Act 3 could have been the turning point that would have us, as the Traveler, cement our perceptions of the Archons and Gods of Celestia OR what I think the death of Signora was supposed to be but was undermined by this one tidbit.

BONUS: I wrote this before Kokomi’s story quest was released but decided to wait for it before posting. And guess what? I think Kokomi’s Story Quest works better as an Archon Quest. At least, some parts of it.

miHoYo teased us this intelligent leader of the resistance that is well-versed in the Art of War. The end of Ch2: Act 2 showed us a powerful Kokomi. So why was she sidelined all throughout the act?

I actually like the idea of the resistance asking the Fatui for aid. But miHoYo chickened out and made it so that they did it unknowingly. To which I say: how? If Kokomi was so smart she should’ve known better. I figured it was the Fatui within a single sentence, so why didn’t Kokomi?

They should’ve stuck with the concept of the underdogs – or in Kokomi’s words, the little fish – of war in an act of desperation. They could’ve shown a calculated Kokomi “making a deal with the devil” and will do anything to win the fight against the Shogunate.

In her Character Teaser, she was willing to burn the enemies’ supplies – to starve the enemy. She can be ruthless, that’s why Kokomi actively giving Delusions to her foot soldiers would have made much more sense to cause the Fatui to be involved rather than the whole “the Fatui orchestrated everything” schtick.

Which brings me to my next point: when did the Fatui turn into a James Bond villain? I hate that trope so much. It’s like the Deus Ex Machina of villainy. It’s lazy. And it doesn’t even fit the Fatui’s modus operandi.

In the prologue, the Abyss Order corrupted Dvalin and the Fatui was just there waiting to steal Barbatos’ gnosis while the Knights are distracted. Morax decided to retire one day so the Fatui swept right in and offered a test of Liyue in exchange for his gnosis.

The last two locations had their own story to tell while the Fatui was just in the background like the opportunistic antagonist that they are.

It also would have been a stronger plotline to have the already set lore – like the tenuous relationship between Watatsumi and Narukami – be the driving force of the Inazuman Civil War.

The prologue and chapter 1 also delivered what we are told we’re going to get in the Story Preview. That’s why they are satisfying. However, with chapter 2, the way it ended turned out to be more about the Fatui rather than “what do mortals see of the eternity chased after by their god.”

Sure, we got the consequences of the war in the World Quests and some of it in the second act. But making the Fatui the Big Bad in the end takes value away from the actions of the characters that are supposed to be the main feature of this chapter.

How much of the Eternity the Raiden Shogun is pursuing is directly from Ei? How much of it is its own understanding of eternity, coupled with Ei’s memories, and its own response? How much of it is the Fatui’s influence?

I have to say though, I’m fine with the puppet actually. Believe it or not. I have had kinda figured that out with the weird shifting of emotions in and out of the puppet. And the dead glowing eyes. So kudos to the design and animation team for that foreshadowing.

It was also said that the current Electro Archon lost someone dear to her and, while I didn’t think it was a twin, I did figure that the current Electro Archon wasn’t the real Electro Archon. So the whole Baal and Beelzebul backstory didn’t really surprise me. So I guess that was foreshadowed too? But my friends didn’t feel the same way so I don’t know. I’m not touching that.

But I do agree that all of the new lore got info-dumped to us by Yae rather than have us find out about them. To be honest, I would have wanted the backstory of Ei to be in her story quest rather than it be in the Archon Quest. A World Quest could work too.

I just feel like the 2.1 Archon Quest ended up cramming so many themes and subplots when it should’ve been focusing on what was promised: the darkness that is brought by their god.

They already had set up the Visions are people’s motivations/ambitions and that taking them away also takes away their agency.

Then they could’ve played with the idea of the people of Watatsumi looking up to Kokomi as their pseudo-god in-place of Orobashi and so with her actively giving Delusions could fit well in the said theme.

They could’ve made Ei and Kokomi character foils of each other and have the final showdown be about them.

And then it’ll all, of course, end up with the people of Inazuma learning how to work without their “gods” or something like that, which is the overarching theme of the whole series if you think about it.

But as I said, my opinions about the plot shouldn’t matter and I’m only here to make what was already written better.

So let’s talk about something that the puppet has done which didn’t make any sense on the surface level but could’ve been clever if it was done right. Killing La Signora.

Okay. So there is a pivotal moment at the end of the first arc of a three-act story where the main character experiences something that will leave them no choice but to move forward. This usually is a physical thing like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. But it can also be a mental or emotional situation.

Over at Honkai, the first arc ended with the death of a beloved mentor and a shattered world (both external and internal). The characters had no choice but to step up and “to stay alive, bravely” (yes, I won’t stop using this line ever). It was so very well done and even after so many years it still hurt no matter how many times you reread/rewatch the scene.

This reread value is what shows how much a twist is well written.

And that is what miHoYo is known for. So I had high expectations with the plot twist (technically this pivotal moment is called a plot twist because it twists the feel and/or pace of the story). Chapter 2 is the perfect spot to end the first act of a seven-chaptered story. So I’m really preparing myself for the inevitable twist.

But then we ended up with Signora’s death.

Okay. So. They could have used that to show us, as the traveler, how Archons and Celestial beings are unfeeling and not to be trusted. We were told this repeatedly by Dainsleiff and by the Abyss Twin. But it is only textbook writing 101 to show NOT tell.

And Signora’s death could have been this portrayal. Although, to be honest, it would have been more impactful if the one who died is a friend of the Traveler.

Them seeing someone die at the hands of an Archon could have their idea of gods shift. Because there is no turning back once you see the proof right in front of your eyes.

But instead, the puppet did it. So what was the point of Signora’s death if not just a power demonstration? We already knew that the Raiden Shogun is powerful. So why did Signora have to die?

Sure, one can argue that the puppet was enacting the Ei’s will so maybe there was a point. But! In Ei’s story quest, we were told that the puppet would have no hesitation when it comes to killing whereas Ei can show mercy.

Which begs, again, the question: how much of the Raiden Shogun’s actions is a reflection of Ei’s will, and how much of it is a logic response of an artificial intelligence from Ei’s memories?

Honestly? I don’t like that they killed off Signora. It doesn’t feel right. I would’ve taken Beidou’s death over Signora’s no matter how much I love Beidou. There was just no build-up to it and it feels weak. I… didn’t feel anything besides confusion. The anger only came later because of the wasted potential.

But overall, I do think they could’ve made it work if it were actually Ei doing the killing.

So I just did Kokomi’s Story Quest and man. The soldiers wanting to continue the war is what they really should have made the motivations of the actual war rather than have it as a post-war response and then have Kokomi fix their mess.

Seriously. While it was really interesting to see the usual trauma response of soldiers who had only known war their whole life, they wasted this idea, man.

Before doing the Archon Quest I had thought that the Watatsumi had a hand on the Vision Hunt Decree. Because if I were a tactician, I would have made something to anger the people of my enemies and have them have their internal issues. And while the Shogunate is weak, that’s when I will strike and claim Inazuma for my people and my god.

Then Orobashi will rise once more.

Yep.

Obviously, I really wanted Kokomi to be a more active character in the Archon Quest.

Anyways. If you reached the end, thank you for reading this ~1.5k words of musings. Tell me what you think. Or don’t. You do you.

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mothmans-favorite-lamp · 3 years

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afterlife spoilers + theory

So, I’m still not sure what I think about this, but I’m hoping to make sense of it while I’m writing it down. I’ve seen two main theories about Afterlife, the first being Ray and Egon were still in contact and working together, and the second being that, when the Terror Dog attacked Egon, he used the taser on himself.

Although there’s a lot of things that don’t add up, I feel like the first theory is at least plausible. For one, the bible verse tattooed on Ray’s arm is the same as the one spray painted outside Egon’s farm. Obviously the significance of that verse (Rev 6:12) is that it’s talking about the apocalypse. Which means Ray knew that the apocalypse was still yet to come. And I cannot believe that Ray, with that knowledge, would just give up and abandon ghostbusting. The second piece of evidence is that, Egon had hundreds of traps in that field, and he had the modified proton packs that were set up inside the mine. The guy at the hardware store said he bought all sorts of weird stuff, but to buy such specific electrical components he would’ve had to have money, and he didn’t. Now, neither did Ray, but Ray did mention that Winston went into finance and made a lot of money. I think it’s possible that Winston was giving Ray money for the bookstore, and Ray was funneling some of it to Egon. However, this still leaves the questions of why Ray would then be so far away instead of at the farm, and why he seemed angry with Egon. Which, leads into the next part of the theory, that Egon shot the taser at himself.

The way the Terror Dog grabbed him in the beginning was the same way it grabbed Dana in the first film, when it was about to possess her. So Egon could’ve shot the taser at himself in order to prevent that. But I think it runs deeper. I think he knew that he wouldn’t be able to survive a fight with Gozer. However, if he died, and he left the farm to Callie, he knew Phoebe and Trevor would show up. But that plan would only work if he was guiding them as a ghost. For his suicide plan to function, he had to be certain that he would remain on Earth as a spirit. Now, Egon always worked the more technical side of things. He could engineer the traps and the packs, but there was no device around that he activated that could’ve somehow kept his spirit around. But who probably would know how to ensure someone would become a spirit? The guy with the occult bookstore. I think Egon knew the Terror Dogs were coming for him and I think he and Ray both planned his death. Ray saw this as Egon giving up, Egon abandoning him. Egon didn’t see the problem, he was doing it to protect the world and because it was the most efficient solution. Hence their falling out and Ray not wanting to talk about him.

This still leaves one hole, which is that Egon pressed the pedal to activate all of the traps when the Terror Dog was in the yard. However, there’s two things that strike me as very wrong about this.

1) The traps were meant for Gozer. Trapping the Terror Dog doesn’t stop Gozer. So why would he activate all of the traps, waste everything he’s worked on for God knows how many years, for not even his main target? And then when it doesn’t work he just goes inside and sits down. He tests the pedal, it does nothing, and then he doesn’t even try to escape. Perhaps there’s some way the pedal wasn’t supposed to work. Maybe it was activating something else. I’m not sure.

2) You’re telling me Egon Spengler, who built hundreds of ghost traps and four fully functioning nuclear accelerators that use proton streams to catch ghosts, couldn’t build a fucking pedal trigger correctly? He would’ve tested the pedal before he wired it up to the traps. Because from the way it was shown, it looked like the pedal itself was simply not pressing down on the trigger, instead of an issue with the wiring. Meaning all you’d have to do is reach underneath the pedal to push the trigger more directly.

I’m not quite sure how the broken pedal fits into everything yet. Let me know if you have any ideas.

#ghostbusters afterlife #egon spengler #ray stantz #ghostbusters theory

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akitohsworld · 3 years

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Disclaimer: I wrote this some time ago, when I was very sleepy. How they could've met before the exchange? I love stupid references don't@ me lol

Warning: slight NSFW at the end (under the cut)

Put a spell on me |Solomon X m!Reader

Saying Solomon was feeling under the weather was an understatement. He felt like absolute shit. His stomach was recoiling, giving him the impression he had to vomit, but couldn't. Resulting in him being wobbly on his feet. Although, he was currently trying to sober up. The lack of water caused his head to hurt, while he walked alongside the river to go back to his apartment. He was in no shape to teleport, not with the sense of orientation he had right now.

A frustrated groan escaped him as he grabbed onto the metal fence beside the river, letting gravity take over as he slouched down onto the floor.

It was a beautiful night, you could see the starry sky reflecting in the river. The silence only being disturbed by some outlandish music in the distance. Somewhere, there was another party raving besides the witches sabbath he had successfully escaped.

He knew he shouldn't have accepted that many drinks from the witches. But it had been a successful year, he was only going back to the Devildom next week... And, probably, going to meet that other exchange student by then.

"Hey fam, you okay?" A voice slurred above him, blocking the blinding streetlights before him.

"Yeah yeah, thank you for your concern-," Solomon looked up surprised. He thought he was the only one here-

"Here ," a handsome guy, probably not a sorcerer, held out a bottle of water to him, grinning friendly. "You gotta stay hydrated when drunk."

"Uhm.. thanks?" Solomon chuckled. "That's nice, but I hear I shouldn't accept drinks from kind strangers"

Their hair reflected in the warm light, along with unfocused eyes glistening in the dark, when he shot Solomon a kind smile.

Solomon suspected he was from where the music was coming from. Another rave or party or whatever, since he was wearing flashy attire and sweat was glistening on his smooth skin.

From dancing, maybe? It wasn't that warm. Rather fresh, if Solomon would say so himself.

"Hmmm", the stranger put a hand on his chin. "I guess, I'm feelin' a biiiiit brave tonight haha. Here, I'll take a sip from it first."

He chucked down a bit of water. "There."

Solomon just stared at him for a solid second. Maybe, probably, surely, this was the alcohol. But this stranger had something alluring about him. His glistening lips from the water made Solomon unable to do anything else but stare.

"You going to take it, or not?"

"Ah yes", Solomon grabbed the bottle and took a sip before putting it back down again.

"May I sit with you?" He put a hand on his neck and averted his gaze. "I- uhm came here to get away from all the noise for a bit- I don't wanna be creepy or anything-"

"Oh- Yes of course! Don't worry about it"

The grin returned to his face as he slouched down beside him. "Thank you."

Solomon took another chug of water. He didn't really have anywhere to be, nor did he have the strength to go home anyways. So he figured he might as well sober up, while making some new memories.

"Out of curiosity.. what do you mean by brave?" Solomon smirked at him.

"Well...", the stranger just smiled, a slight tint of colour dusting his cheeks. "You're pretty handsome. And I normally can't ask out guys for the heck of it.. so yeah. I'd say I'm being stupidly brave by talking to someone as hot as you."

The sorcerer laughed. "How very direct"

"Must be the alcohol", he chuckled. "I don't know anyone around here.. and I have a habit of drinking too much when I'm at social gatherings without friends.. What about you? Why are you here all alone?.. If it's okay to ask, at least."

"Ah it's okay~ I'm trying to sober up from drinking too", Solomon sighed. "It was an exhausting night.."

The stranger nodded sighing. "Tell me about it."

"So.. what are you celebrating?"

And so, they proceeded to talk about the reasons why they were here. Their conversation slowly but surely going of its original rails, from politics to religion to light-hearted shows and childhood memories.

Solomon, of course, didn't go into much detail about magic nor anything like that. They were simply trailing off into more and more different topics, running their tongues because of the alcohol.

"Wait, people avoid you when you invite them?" He asked in shock, "Even after you offer to cook for them?! Woah, that's rude after everything you've done..."

Solomon hung his head in disappointment. "I really don't know what the issue is, you know? It's not like they outright avoid me when we nee- want to hang out, but everytime I offer my hospitality they just.. you know?"

"Shiiiit bro... ," he thought for a bit, then joked, "Maybe your cooking sucks?"

Solomon sighed dramatically, proceeding to pout. "Can't blame the tasteless."

"Just kidding kidding!!" he smiled sympathetically, "Maybe it's best if you ask them directly about it. Honesty is always key, no matter where you're from."

Solomon remembered something.

"So, I'm guessing you're not from around here?"

The stranger looked him up and down, seeming to think for a bit and then smirking back at him.

"You tell me, wizard boy. Am I?"

"Oh? How do you know?"

"Know what?"

"That I'm", Solomon gesticulated dramatically, "a wizard."

He became serious and leaned closer to Solomon, putting a hand on his shoulder. Solomon's breath hitched ever so slightly as the stranger's intense gaze held him entranced.

"You're a wizard, Harry."

"Huh?"

The stranger wheezed at his reference, as Solomon finally understood and erupted into laughter himself.

He stopped himself to respond seriously:

"..A wizard?"

"Don't you feel it ," the stranger put their hand over Solomon's heart, making his heart pound a bit harder, which surprised him, "...,Mister Krabs?"

"Huh- What?-"

After a perplexed pause they looked at each other and wheezed and cackled in the cursed manner your friends laugh when someone tells a ridiculous, dumb joke.

As they sat there, next to a river enveloped by the light of street lamps in a park, their laughter erupted through the silent night. Nothing but very faint music could be heard in the distance. Solomon didn't even know why he was laughing so hard. It was a stupid reference. And this stranger was clearly out of it.

There was something about him... Solomon just couldn't put his finger to it.

"S-so haha you're a man of culture as well~", Solomon calmed down, "What's your name?"

" Of course~ (y/N)." The stranger responded smiling, wiping away a tear. "Yours?"

"Solomon.", he answered reciprocating the smile.

"Solomon the wise?"

"Yes." He shot him a knowing glance. "So you do know me~"

"Oh yes~" (y/N)'s fingers slid over Solomon's coat. "You dress like a wizard, you look like a wizard aaaaand your named after King Solomon the wise. Great literature surrounds you: like Ars Goëtia and the lesser keys of, well, you", their gaze turned to look into the sorcerer's grey eyes.

With that, Solomon understood.

This person didn't know him . He knew of his tales, the legends, basically fairy tales.

He was like most humans... Unaware of the magical world he lived in. The realisation stung a bit, but the sorcerer decided to play along anyways as he felt himself sobering up.

"Well, I can't disappoint a fan like yourself now, can I?" Solomon smirked.

"Ohh~ So are you going to show me any tricks?" (y/N) laughed, standing up challengingly. "Come at me with your best shot, wizard boy~"

Solomon didn't know why, but he felt the urge to impress the young man.

"Hmm", he stood up, although a bit wobbly. "Alright. But I'll need an assistant~"

"Oh my oh myyy" (y/N) excitedly clapped their hands together. "I'll sacrifice myself for the greater good then."

Solomon chuckled, shooting him a provocative glance through his lashes at which he thought he saw (y/N) blushing.

"So, (y/N), are you ready?"

"I'm was born ready"

Solomon offered him his hand. "Take my hand, my cute assistant~"

"Oh my, and he has a way with words", (y/N) overdramatically took his hand, "The ladies will die if you do that, you know?"

"Oh will they now?", Solomon pulled him towards himself, "What effect do you think Hecate's power will have on you?"

"I like your funny words, magic man", (y/N) smirked playfully. "Tell me more~"

Solomon scoffed. This guy is a walking reference book.

"Have you ever danced with a sorcerer in the pale moonlight?", he asked, putting another hand on (y/N)'s waist, said man's breath hitching.

"W-well, I'm pretty sure the proverb goes different, Solomon", he put a hand on his counterpart's shoulder as he let Solomon take the lead, "I thought you were going to show me a trick though~"

"Patience is a virtue", he simply said teasingly.

"-and a pain", (y/N) retorted, while taking the first step back.

"So you know how to waltz?", Solomon began to lead.

"School taught me many things", he imitated a rough old man voice, "You youngsters would never understand"

Solomon tried to contain his need to laugh.

"Aha~ Funny, enlighten me?"

"Well, I don't know what they teach in wizard boy-school", they turned, " But back in my day, they tried to teach me calculus"

Solomon quirked a brow. "Tried?" Then he spun (y/N) around.

"Well, I was busy drawing into my notes", his cold hand slipped to Solomon's neck, making the sorcerer tense up.

"And what kind of Mona Lisa-worth drawings were you working on? I bet only of the highest quality~", sarcasm dripped from his voice as he shot (y/N) a teasing smile.

"Oh you can't even imagine~", (y/N) rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner before shooting him a deadpan look, "Penises mostly"

A laugh escaped Solomon. "How refined"

"I am nothing but refined, sir~"

Solomon spun him around again, matching no pace in particular, as he pulled him closer to his chest this time. A small gasp left (y/N)'s mouth.

"H-hey now, be careful there. Or do you want me to fall?"

Solomon's lips pursed up in amusement, but quickly froze as he looked into the man's face.

(y/N)'s expression was contorted in utter joy, like he couldn't contain their grin. He looked stupidly adorable...

Solomon felt his heart clench at the sight. But he quickly snapped out of it as he shot (y/N) another charming smile.

"So, about 'the ladies dying' at my charm.."

"You're still on about that?" (y/N) chuckled amused, "Give it a rest wizard boy. We get it, you're handsome-"

"What about you?" his cheeks burned as he felt himself getting... Nervous? That's new.

Solomon hoped the darkness wouldn't give him away, "How do you feel about my 'charm'?"

For a second everything stood still and they both came to a stop. Their eyes locked and silence engulfed them. Tension began to claw at both man's braveness, as realisation struck them. This encounter had progressively turned into something more. Not some random thing.

It felt like..

(y/N) averted his gaze, face flushing a bright red as he chuckled nervously. "It... It takes a bit more for me to die, Sol.."

Fate.

"Is that so?", Solomon's fingers interlaced with his as he slowly inched closer.

"I mean.. you could find out..." (y/N)'s eyes slowly closed when-

Strings of colourful magic sparked around them.

"Huh?!" His eyes shot wide open, grip tightening on Solomon's hands, "What-"

(y/N) looked around stunned and extremely surprised.

"So? How was that for a 'magic trick'?"

(y/N)'s gaze returned to face him. "Y-you.. How?"

The sorcerer just hummed. "Who knows?"

"This... Must be a dream then..", he sighed disappointed, a tinge of sadness in his voice, "That's a bummer.. I really like you."

Now it was Solomon's turn to blush.

"I- I understand the confusion, but- mph?!"

With that his lips pressed onto Solomon's.

The sorcerer froze, while (y/N)'s mouth opened a little, slipping his tongue through Solomon's mouth. He tasted like sweet liquor, further entrancing the sorcerer in a passionate kiss.

Solomon got over his shock quickly as his hands found the other's waist, pulling him towards himself. When (y/N) sighed into the kiss, hands burying into his white locks, excitement shot through his spine.

Solomon pressed him against a nearby tree. He grew hot as (y/N)'s soft, wet lips brushed against his, the passion growing with each passing second.

"Mnh hah", (y/N) parted for a second, a string of saliva connecting them, lips barely brushing against his, "This.. feels too real though.."

"Because it is- ", Solomon panted against his mouth, connecting their lips again with more of his own vigor this time. His tongue eagerly brushing over the other's.

God, what was he doing?

What was he doing??

But fuck it felt so good.

He couldn't resist the desire to touch (y/N) more and more. He wanted him closer and it showed.

As if on cue, (y/N)'s hand slid over Solomon's pants, suddenly palming his half hard erection and making him moan into the other's mouth longingly.

"Mnn- (y/N) wait.."

"Mnh? Oh sorry-!", he stopped abruptly.

"N-no I mean... Let's.. let's go to my place-"

"Oh~" (y/N) smiled and kissed him again, teeth pulling at his bottom lip as he parted panting.

"Alright then. Show me the way, wizard-boy~"

#obey me #fluff #solomon #solomon x reader #m!mc #m!reader #smut

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mittensmorgul · 3 years

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So for the most part, I outright reject the finale. But I do think, in light of the whole "Jimmy was supposed to be in the bar, and Dean was disappointed by that because his perfect heaven would have Cas in it" just makes me all the more convinced that the final episode was some kind of djinn dream. Like.... There's no other explanation in my opinion. If Dean's perfect heaven was supposed to have Cas, and he tragically gets faked out by Jimmy (????? Why tf would jimmy be there anyway), it just proves that it's not ACTUALLY heaven. That, along with he El Sol beer he's drinking is all the evidence I need. I think after 15x19, Dean and Sam got whammied by some monster, and are stuck in a hallucination, and that's what we're seeing. (My headcanon is that it's actually The Empty doing it, because it knows if it doesn't keep Dean and Sam occupied and spinning in circles, they'll invade the Empty to save Cas. So its trying to prevent that) :)

Hello, anon friendo! I am gonna start by offering the socially distanced version of a high five, because yeah... There is just so much to unpack here, and you provided such a succinct and all-encompassing series of statements to start from. Thank you!

*flings open array of questionable suitcases*

First off, Congrats on having rejected the finale. I know a lot of folks are still struggling with that one, for many reasons. But you have hit upon so many of the points I’ve been trying to make about the finale since it aired. I’d just like to start with some of the assumptions I’ve heard from folks about the finale that make it impossible for me to consider it fully honestly canon. Because so much about it just makes no goshdang sense... like... not at all...

One of the biggest issues I have surrounding the reception of the finale in parts of fandom is that it portrayed a “happy ending.” The show itself spent the entire final season telling us that a gravestone marked Winchester was not and never would be a happy ending (thank you Becky Rosen-- words I never thought I’d say, but honestly and most sincerely meant). Let’s break this down a bit.

Starting from the assumption that “heaven was fixed” so that characters could have true free will there, making it satisfying in any way that Dean died so young and never got to truly experience happiness during life, I would like anyone who has adopted this attitude to then explain Kansas the band. I mean... explain that in any satisfactory canon-compliant way. (hint: you can’t. it makes zero sense in canon, if heaven is truly reformed and “happy” with everyone in possession of free will.)

Which brings me to Misha’s comments about Jimmy being in the Roadhouse. Why, if heaven were truly fixed, would Jimmy ever in a bazillion years attend a party for Dean Winchester? If Heaven were truly a “happy” ending for Dean, why introduce this element of eternal tragedy and heartbreak to his heaven experience? Why taunt him with the eternal loss of Cas-- even if you don’t think he reciprocated Cas’s romantic feelings, he was canonically the best friend Dean ever had, and being forced to exist forever in a place where he had everyone else he ever cared for except for Cas? Is frankly horrific.

How the actual fuck is that a happy ending, in any sense of the word?

How is this the sort of heaven that Dean would’ve made for himself before it was “fixed?” At least in the memorex heaven, he could’ve lived in oblivious peace with Cas, even if it was always just his own memories and not ~actually Cas~. I honestly think that would’ve been happier than the abject tragedy of what we did get, and what we would’ve gotten had the original script played out.

All of this kind of makes me wonder if they ever even actually defeated Chuck. Like... it feels more like Dean got pulled into the Empty at that moment with Cas and Billie, and everything else after that point was the Empty’s endless experience of sorrow and despair we knew it subject its charges to. So that’s one potential for what could’ve actually happened. I mean, everything about the finale was sorrow and despair, you know? Dean didn’t even get to enjoy his pie at a pie festival because Sam smashed in in his face. How is any of it happy, in any way?

Because if that was actually heaven, there wasn’t actually any free will (because why tf would Kansas the band have chosen to put on that concert? why tf would Jimmy have been there, just to torment Dean with the taunt of Cas returning to him only to have that hope snatched away again? It’s cruel. It’s, in fact, a source of intense despair).

The djinn theory could also work, and I’ve read some excellent fix-it fic using that as a premise. But that doesn’t really explain what happened to Jack (and Amara, since she was in there with them) after hoovering up Chuck’s power, you know? I think the simplest explanations in canon are that Chuck actually won via the unified power of Light and Dark being transferred into Jack and effectively using him as a vessel. With Sam and Dean convinced they’d won, they effectively stopped resisting Chuck’s story for them, and using Jack’s understanding of humanity and the Winchesters specifically, Chuck finally was able to implement a version of his story that the Winchesters would just waltz into without thinking it was supernaturally influenced at all. Going bigger and bigger with monsters and cosmic troubles hadn’t worked, but going so small Sam and Dean would barely even notice the influence-- even with the incongruous reappearance of a vampire that appeared in their lives once, for like two whole minutes 15 years ago, and an unsolved case from the journal from more than 30 years ago that John had never even linked to vampires at all.

At this point, I need to mention that I’m watching 10.23 as I type this up. An episode in which we confront the Mark, along with Death, and Dean’s despair, where he learns a version of the truth (but by no means the full truth, or even accurate truth in some respects) about Chuck’s Story, Amara/The Darkness, etc. That would unfold more fully over the next five seasons. And what was the case Dean took in this episode? Vampires. LOLOL omg this show is nothing if not horrifically consistent, yes?

So because of this, I went haring off through my own blog looking for a post I made a long time ago about the symbolism of how various monsters are used on this show (because again, consistency). I got sidetracked by other posts in my monsters tag, including this from after 15.09 aired, which feels particularly awfully relevant. This was my reaction to Chuck’s Story he showed Sam in that episode, about what the future would look like should he successfully trap Chuck with a Mark, and which... yeah is basically exactly thematically consistent with what we saw in the finale, right down to a cheesy twist on vampires. Read the whole post right here, but this is the part that reached up and punched me in the face:

this is how Dean personally reacts when he loses Cas. We know how he reacts when he loses anyone else– think about what he did when Charlie died. He went on a murder rampage against the Stynes for killing her. When Mary died he broke some furniture and went full bore toward both resurrecting her and stopping Jack. But without Cas, Dean loses the will to fight. Sam has… always been different. He referenced Jess in 15.04 to remind us of how he was after she died in the pilot episode. Just like John, he picked up the revenge mission and ran with it. But for Dean, Cas is different. Without Cas… Dean gives up.

Because... Dean gave up. Sure, he and Sam weren’t overrun by vampires in the end. Chuck knew they’d never stop fighting the monsters, one way or another. The only way to get Dean to give up is something Chuck hadn’t quite figured out yet... maybe not until after 15.17, after confronting Cas in the hallway of the bunker, after absorbing Amara’s power, knowledge, and perspective on Dean.

Chuck needed Dean to give up, and honestly? Pushing Billie to clear him off the table and send him (and Cas, that pesky angel who never did what he was told) to the Empty would’ve been a direct way to deal with that... pretty much akin to having one sibling locked in a cage forever, yes?

Also, still looking through my monsters tag, I’m reminded of 14.15, and still cannot differentiate the version of Heaven in 15.20 from what was done to the people of that town. This... is not... paradise. This is actively what Dean has been insisting is the OPPOSITE of paradise since like… 4.22… No ending where Dean was a “Stepford bitch in paradise” ever had the possibility of being “happy,” at the core of things, and this “fixed” version of Heaven just doesn’t hold up to any degree of inspection. Something is seriously wrong here. https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/183465650390/so-can-we-talk-about-this-monster-of-the-week-for

And since I was unable to find the post I wrote who knows how long ago about Monsters and how they’re symbolically used on Supernatural to represent larger themes in the episode, I’ll just attempt to sum up what Vampires have been used for. Revenge. Vampires are always, in some way connected to themes of revenge.

(and hooray, I found at least a post adjacent to the one I’ve spent the last four hours trying to find... https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/187207052080/i-obviously-did-not-think-this-through, where I mention that shapeshifters are about revealing hidden truths (mostly about Dean since most shapeshifters are connected to Dean), zombies are about grief and the inability to move past it.)

So why... why at the end of their road is the monster that comes after them-- literally FOR REVENGE for something that had never been blamed on Sam or Dean to begin with, from season 1, directly connected to John’s revenge mission and the first time they learned about the Colt AND the first time they learned in canon that Vampires were even real... like... this feels very specifically like some kind of layers-of-meta levels of shade on them, you know? Vampires are for revenge, so what vengeance exactly is being visited upon Sam and Dean in this episode? If not Chuck’s entire story for them itself?

So yeah, 100% agree, something is incredibly rotten in the finale. And I am sick to effing death of people trying to convince us that anything about this was “good” or “happy” or “satisfying” in any way. Or even “how it was always supposed to end” with Dean dead bloody, as if the entire back half of the series hadn’t been suggesting that a true win was the subversion of all of Chuck’s story for them, and Dean finally being able to have his chosen family all alive, happy, and chilling on a beach somewhere watching the sunset. Nothing will ever convince me that the ending portrayed in 15.20 wasn’t exactly how Chuck thought he “won,” rendering it entirely irrelevant to the rest of canon, unless all of canon was ultimately the tragedy we’d been encouraged to believe would be firmly defeated in the end.

Folks, you can’t have it both ways.

#spn 15.20 #chuck's process #if this was the 'happy' ending for dean they sure did fail big time to make it actually happy!#it makes me feel sick thinking that dean's happy heaven ending was more like an eternal pit of torment #like actively tormenting him and taunting him with the fact that cas was truly gone forever #like wow they went all the fuck out to make it clear that even in heaven #dean would never be allowed to respond to cas's declaration of love #like... it's the most hurtful and hateful thing the show could possibly have done to us #and it still fucks me up knowing there's people who think this heaven was a 'good' ending for dean #like... fuck that entirely and with extreme prejudice #i feel like i have not been emphatic enough about my absolute hatred for this episode in these tags #but sadly there are limitations to expressing the actual feelings i'm feeling in the english language #sometimes the only effective word for these feelings involves velociraptor screeching #Anonymous

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simpcxty · 3 years

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TW: mentions of marijuana and alcohol use, smut, characters aged up to 21! Mentions of using drugs at 20, sexual assault? pda, public teasing, public nudity? Public sex

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD

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Part 1

The first time you see each other, he has a tall man in a dark suit standing next to him, and your dad is pulling you away quickly.

“Y/n, come on. We have to go.” You couldn’t help but look behind you at the boy with raggedy hair and scars littering his face.

There was something perplexing about him, but as you got farther and looked up at your dad.

The scared look had you confused.

What was he so scared of?

There’s another time two years later, you’re twelve now, and you’re with your mom. She panicked just as much when she saw the man in the dark suit, I was more hung up on the boy next to him again, he was slouching with his hands shoved in his black jeans.

His hair still looked tangled but it looks cleaner. But as your mom yanks you away, you’re pulled away again huffing as the boy looked over at you when you finally look away.

He’d wanted to see your face before you left, he was sure it was you. But you had stared at him, he couldn’t be weird and make eye contact, could he?

The next time was three years later, you had dyed your hair green and teal, but it was fading, and starting to grow out. The pale pastel of what Tomura was sure was once a vibrant color remained, and he liked it so much, he couldn’t help but stare.

His gaze didn’t break when your eyes locked. You didn’t have a parent with you this time, but All For One stood tall next to him, and he didn’t know if he was allowed to go say hi.

He was terrified as he tapped the man and he looked up from his phone to acknowledge the boy.

“I want to go talk to that girl.” The man smirked and Tomura really didn’t know how to feel.

“Then go ahead.” Now he just had to gain the confidence. You were looking down at your phone now, and his heart pounded in his chest while he walked up to you.

“I’m Y/n.” You don’t even look up from your phone as his feet stop in your peripheral.

“Shigaraki.” He remembers what All For One told him.

You finally looked up from your phone and as much as he was already positive it was you, a breath of relief escapes him when he realizes it’s really you.

“W-Wait- No, your name isn’t Shigaraki, it’s Tenko. You used to live across from me!” It’s then that he feels a hand on his shoulder, and he’s relieved.

“Time to go Tomura.” The girl is confused as they walk away. This time the boy being pulled away by his wrist instead of her.

Then of course the next time is three years later again, you’re eighteen now, and you look even more different than last time.

You had two nose piercings, a septum and a hoop on your left side, you also had the right side of your bottom lip pierced as well as your right eyebrow.

Your ears were gauged too, but not too big, if Tomura had to guess (he had considered gauging his own ears.) it was a good 1/2 inch.

You had black tunnels in and your cartilage had an industrial, and a helix along with a forward helix. You were wearing a tight cropped tanktop that showed off your belly button piercing and Tomura had to force his eyes to look away before he started drooling. You hair was dyed again, but a dark royal blue this time.

Neither of you had adults with you this time, and his breath almost catches in his throat when he can see your head lift from your phone out of his peripheral.

The thoughts running through his mind right now we’re nothing but sinful, and the idea of even having these thoughts is so new to him.

He manages to look toward you again, only to see you look over at him at the same time, you flashed him a smile, then turned your attention to your group of friends approaching you.

Now annoyed that he even has to go in that direction, what the hell is he supposed to do? Act like he doesn’t know you?

But he doesn’t know you.

As he passes by you and your group of friends, he’s almost shocked when you look up from whatever your friend group was talking about to look at him.

She almost does a victory fist bump as he walks down the busy street toward an empty alley she always crosses through to get home.

Once he’s about to turn the corner, he doesn’t know why he feels so drained. It’s not like he would’ve been able to talk to you anyway.

You’re making some half assed excuse saying you forgot something at home, your friends offered to go with you but you said you’d be quick.

You’re running down the street and turning the corner a good two minutes after he did.

He could’ve been long gone already, so why was your heart beating so fast?

You were just curious right? What happened to Tenko Shimura? If he didn’t want you to call him that you wouldn’t.

But as you turn the corner and see him, you’re not quite sure what else to shout.

“So you are Tenko right?” You’re catching your breath with your hands on your thighs and he turns around.

He’s not quite sure what to say.

“I was. I don’t remember much about any of it. I go by Tomura now.”

“Okay. I uh-“

“I’ve seen you, a few times over the years. You’ve changed a lot Y/n.” She smiles and nods.

“Being the child of two pro heroes sucks to be quite honest. At least I have my little brother though. I think I’d go crazy without him.” He chuckles and it’s then that you notice how much his scars have worsened.

“Damn Tomura, still scratch yourself?” The name felt weird rolling off your tongue. Almost unnatural, and he grimaced when you said it.

“Yeah, why the hell not? I’m already ugly.” He snaps a bit and he’s shocked when you don’t flinch or move away.

“Do you have a quirk..?” He didn’t know what inspired him to ask the stupid question.

But when you nodded the words were already spilling out of his mouth.

“What is it?” You blushed and continued to walk past him as you answered.

“Electricity.” You answered simply. But he’s intrigued.

“What kind-“ you’re cutting him off before he can finish.

“I can show you if you follow me.” His heart clenched.

Going back, there..?

He’d be not even 100 feet away from his old family home.

Could he handle that?

“I heard about what happened ya know-“ his blood runs cold.

What?

“The Shimura Family just, disappeared? No way, I figured maybe you guys just, left? I don’t know. But then I saw you with the man in the suit a few years later, my first thought was I was just glad you were okay! I even wanted to shout your name, but my dad pulled me away. That was when I realized that the man next to you wasn’t your dad, and you just, you looked so sad. I didn’t think that you’d want to talk to me, or remember me. After all we only played together a few times when we were kids.” And now he can breathe again.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened. Just know that I’m glad that you’re okay Tomura Shigaraki.” You continued on walking, leaving him there in shock. When you got home, you told your friends something came up at home and you couldn’t hangout anymore.

They were upset, but they understood overall. They had the same issues, they were mainly just worried.

Two years later, and Tomura Shigaraki has made a name for himself.

A villain. A monster. A freak?

Y/n didn’t like those terms.

She had a certain preference for maybe lost? No maybe that’s not right either. She honestly didn’t know what to say about him.

But she didn’t like what the media and the people around her said.

No. Not one bit.

But your breath still catches in your throat as you see him standing in the very alleyway you walked away from him in years ago.

But he’s looking directly at you, and the way his red eyes pierce your soul with the eye contact has your breath quickening a bit.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of me now.” His voice was raspier now compared to before.

“I didn’t know who you were, nor do I know you either.” He frowns at that and suddenly you’re up against the alley wall with his hand around your throat except for his middle finger.

“But you do know me, and here I thought we were friends.” The whimper that comes out of you has him chuckling.

“Tell me Y/n Kaminari. How’s your little brother Denki?” You start to thrash more at that and he’s rolling his eyes.

“Relax, are you really dumb enough to think I’d actually let harm come to you or your family? You’re dumber than I thought.” He laughs and the tears welling up in your eyes suddenly flash a bright green. As well as do your eyes and you grab his other wrist and the one on your neck.

“Get your disgusting hands off this body.” You sounded God like, almost like a deity? But he was stupid enough to keep his hands on you.

When you chuckled and smiled at him, he couldn’t help but want to see what you were gonna do next.

“I warned you.” The hands you had gripped on him surge and send electricity though his body, enough to warn him to back, the fuck, up.

“Do not touch me Tomura Shigaraki, not with those impure hands.” Your eyes were still glowing and your voice was beautiful to listen to, but the more he did, the more he only felt judged?

What is your damn quirk anyway?

“Y/n!” Your head whips over and Denki comes running.

Suddenly, your eyes are back to your normal color, and you’re running past Tomura on the ground.

“DENKI NO! Go back home now!” You’re running his way and grabbing his wrist, yanking him down the dark alley and towards your family home.

It’s like he’s seeking you out now, because the next time he sees you. It’s only a week later, and he has his hand around your throat again and he’s pinned you against the alley wall again.

“Did you not hear a word my God said?” His eyebrows furrowed at that and he uses his other hand to pin your wrists up above you. Still lifting one finger when he does it.

What’s up with that?

“What God?”

“My quirk is Zeus, I can use lighting however I please whenever and however I want. But if Zeus thinks that I’m in danger, he pops into my body to come and say fuck off.” He laughs at that.

“I can’t help it. You’re hot.” He says it so nonchalantly and places a quick kiss to your jaw then pulls away.

“But I’ll listen to Zeus.” He moves your hands from above your head and leaves a short kiss to your palm before dropping them.

“For now.” You tried to keep from blushing but he smiled when he saw it and walked toward the corner.

“See you soon Y/n.”

The next time you see him. You’re in trouble. Well, you’re a bit inebriated.

It’s your birthday and you and your friends went out to have fun, thinking about the situation you’re in, and how you got into it.

You need new friends.

“You’re a pretty one huh?” You can’t even respond as the man approaches you in your normal alley.

You were so close to home. So, so close.

Why did you have to get so severely inebriated? Zeus warned you that it could fuck up whether or not he could come out but you didn’t listen.

But as you feel grimy hands slide up your thighs you’re finally gaining some consciousness and attempting to push and shove him off.

“C’mon man get off of me!” Your words were slurred and your kicks became rough. Then, your quirk is suddenly surging out of you uncontrollably and the guy is on the floor.

“Thank god.” Your mindset changed quickly when you realized he wasn’t making noise. Or breathing.

“Oh no.”

“Yeah, you just did that Y/n.” You’re freezing up in fear at the voice and wrapping your arms around yourself quickly.

“N-no! H-H-“ Your voice is trembling and Tomura’s smile quickly faded into a muted concerned expression.

“He what? Spit it out.” He had only stumbled upon you electrocuting the guy. He didn’t know what else happened.

But this trembling form isn’t you, and you reek of alcohol and weed, he knows. He’s around it all the time.

He knows you can handle your weed, he always smells a bit on you.

But the alcohol was bad.

This picture isn’t too hard to paint.

“H-He wouldn’t get off!” and that’s when his eyes widen.

Tomura sees red, and suddenly he’s placing a full hand over the already dead mans face.

You almost look mesmerized as the body disintegrated into dust.

“Let’s get you home.” You nodded and you stepped on a part of the pile of ashes to stand up.

Tomura almost grinned but now wasn’t the time for that. He didn’t really think you’d want to think about that.

Your legs seemed to be debating whether or not they wanted to stabilize.

You automatically tensed the moment you felt arms under yours until you smelled Tomura.

He always smelled like weed and coffee, and always had dust residue somewhere on him. You always thought it might be from where he stayed at, but now you knew the truth.

He internally freaked out as you wrap your arms around his neck when he helped lift you.

“Thank you Shiggy.” You sounded so tired. So when you went to pull away he pulled you back in and had you wrap your legs around his waist. Partially because it was easier and faster to get you home, and partially so you couldn’t see the blush littering his face.

Your dress wouldn’t stay down so he put an arm under your thighs and one around your waist as he carried you.

“Why are you out here at this time of night?” He tried not to shove the lower part of his face in your shoulder. He really did.

But he did anyway. In turn you tightened your grip around him and nuzzle you’re face into his neck while he walks. He’s nearing the end of the alley and he’s considering wrapping his hoodie around your waist really quickly.

“S’My twenty first birthday!” He chuckles.

“Why are you alone then?” He tightens his grip around you and he wants to cry from how good the contact feels against his skin.

How good you feel against his skin.

“My friends left me and went somewhere else.” He sighs.

“Those aren’t very good friends hun.” You whined as he sets you down right at the end of the alley and pulls off his hoodie to wrap around your waist.

When he picks you back up you nuzzle back into him and you’re hugging around his waist this time.

He has to keep an arm around the bottom of your thighs and around your waist again and the positioning is unique but he’s doing his best.

“This is gonna he awkward isn’t it..? Are your parents home hun?” You shook your head quickly and giggled.

“Nope. Just Denki!” You tightened your grip around him and your legs shift a bit.

No. No. No. No. No. Not. The. Time.

When he knocks and hears footsteps thumping down the stairs quickly he snickers.

But as the door opens and Denki sees him with his sister in the arms of a supervillain. He’s in a state of PANIC.

“Before you freak out Denki! This is my best friend Tomura! He’s great!” You tightened your grip around him again and he blushes. Best friend?

Denki doesn’t even know where to start. But while gritting his teeth he speaks.

“Explain.” Y/n tries not to think about it and just nuzzles her face deeper into Tomuras small but wide chest.

“Wanna go to bed.” He keeps his eyes on Tomura and his eyes almost bulge out of his head when he actually notices how cozied up are with him.

Is that- is that his fucking hoodie around your waist?

Mom and Dad are always talking about never being able to find this man 24 fucking 7 and here you are cuddled up next to him like he’s not a mass murderer.

“I found her passed out in the alley, we’ve known each other for a long time and I just wanted to make sure she got home safe.” Denki clenches his fists.

“Why didn’t you just kill her like you have with other people?” Tomura had started turning to go up the stairs.

But as the words come out of Denki’s mouth, Tomura gives him a glare that could make anyone’s soul shiver.

“I would never hurt a member of this family, nor will I ever let any of my forces hurt them.” You giggled.

“You just got shut DOWN Denki! Leave Shiggy alone. He brought me home didn’t he?”

Denki nods and you smiled.

You don’t see him for a good two months after that.

You didn’t feel bad for what he saw, he chose to experience it. He chose to help you.

At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself when you remember the blurry memories of his hand on your thighs or around your waist always keeping one finger off.

Stop it. That’s weird Y/n.

But imagine how it’d feel to have him just squeeze and squish your thighs?

Would you stop it brain?

These are the thoughts you just have to have as you head toward your favorite sweets shop. You had just left the house and as soon as you rounded the corner into the alley you saw Tomura standing there.

You didn’t necessarily know what to say.

You just kinda kept walking until you got to him

He stood there and you were able to take in some details. Did he start using stuff on his face?

Or did he just stop scratching?

His lips were definitely different. There was no mistaking that. They were less chapped.

You didn’t care to take many more details when you wrapped your arms around his frame.

He stiffens at first, but now it’s his turn to be the one that melts into your embrace.

His arms wrap around you and push you towards the alley wall. Once he gets you there he lifts you up under your thighs and interlocks his hands together while holding you there.

This was a very common reoccurrence. You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t like it.

Because you so very did.

“I missed you.” The words shock you as they come out of his mouth and he kisses your jaw.

You couldn’t help the ragged breath that came out of you.

He presses his hips into yours experimentally and sucks lightly on your neck, not enough to leave a mark but enough to catch you off guard.

You gasped and your fingers are gripping his red hoodie.

Oh, you’re currently wearing the one he gave you.

How embarrassing.

“You look so good in my hoodie. Looks perfect on you.” Not embarrassing. Not embarrassing at all nevermind.

The sucking on your neck gets rougher when you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer.

It’s his turn to gasp and his hips grind into yours in response.

You whined and it just confirmed for him what he already knew. He wants to do it again so fucking badly.

Your black and dark grey pleated skirt was so easy to manipulate and everytime he ground his hips into yours your legs tightened around him making it even better.

“I don’t want to fuck you in an alley but if you keep tightening your legs around me like that and making those pretty noises I might just say fuck it.” Your legs tightened around him again as he said it and he groans at the tightness in his jeans.

“Is that what you want?” You can’t respond when he moans in your ear. You wanted to cry, he sounds so pretty like that.

“Wanna walk around town with my cum inside you all day?” It should sound disgusting, and the way it would soak your underwear would be so gross, but it’d be him, and the thought of it is so intriguing to you.

So you can’t help but whine as he says it and tighten your grip on his hoodie.

“So responsive for me. I love it. I bet the thought of anyone else doing this to you is repulsive isn’t it?” Your cheeks burned but you nodded, you couldn’t lie.

“Why am I so special huh Y/n?” He bites your neck as he says it and you can’t help the little squeak that escapes you.

“Because I want you Tomura.” He can’t help but pause.

“Well that’s rich isn’t it? The daughter of two pro heroes pining after me?” You wanted to make it clear.

Abundantly clear, just how much you want him, and him alone.

Finally snapping out of your daze and carding your fingers through his hair to pull his head back and press your lips to his desperately.

He almost seems shocked, but he recovers quickly and pushes your panties to the side and pushes a finger into you quickly.

One wrong move and he could disintegrate you, but his fingers felt so fucking good.

“You’re so warm, fuck.” He can’t help but lean his forehead against your shoulder and watch two fingers pump in and out of you.

He huffs before pulling his fingers out slowly, cleaning the slick off his fingers by shoving them in his mouth.

He sets you down carefully and your legs tremble a bit.

“I want more.” He can’t function properly.

The way you tasted, that’s what he wants.

He wants more of that.

When you saw him get on his knees you didn’t know how to feel.

“C’mere.” The way he had you wrap your legs around him made you panic a bit.

It wasn’t stable, it was wobbly and awkward and you had no clue how it’d work.

Until he had you against the alley wall again.

And suddenly the position he was in had you blushing more than before.

“What? You tasted so good. I want more, is that okay..?” You nodded quickly. Excessively, and it made him chuckle.

“Say it. Say that you want it.” The way you didn’t even hesitate had you curious about what was running through your mind right now.

No you knew what was. Him, the intense need for him, the way he smelled, his hands and the way they feel so perfect against you even with his destructive quirk.

Tomura Shigaraki. Him, that was what is running through your mind.

“Please just eat me out Shig, I- I was supposed-“ he chuckles again and kitten licks your clit interrupting your sentence, his hands were so tight around your thighs, even with a finger lifted and the way he was playing with them was overstimulating in a way while he multitasked.

“You were supposed to what? Meet friends? A guy?” You went to nod when he said friends, but as soon as the second words came out you shook your head desperately.

“No! I-“ you cut yourself off this time. Whining as he pinches your inner thigh.

“Relax, I’m joking. You must know you’re mine right?” You whined and nodded.

“Yes Shiggy, I’m all yours- oh fuck.” The moans you let out as he grazed his tongue against your walls has him pulling you closer and tighter against him.

“I’m gonna have to find somewhere better for this.” He moans against you and your legs tremble and tighten around him.

“S-Shig, Shig! I-I’m gonna-“ he pulls away to answer you this time.

“I know. So do it. Cum on my tongue babe. I want it all.” You whimpered as he sucks you into his mouth while his tongue is plunged inside of you and the coil inside you snaps.

The way he’d gasp when he realized he missed a drop and it started to go down your thigh made it better. He’d just collect it on one of his fingers and then get so distracted finishing you off that he accidentally smears it all over your thighs as he goes back in.

“I could stay down here for hours. But that wouldn’t be very fair to your friends now would it..?” You couldn’t say much. Just whined as he steals your current panties and shoved them in his jean pockets.

“You’re just around the corner babe, I’m sure you can grab another pair.” He had wiped his face of what he couldn’t lick off and set you down carefully again.

Your legs trembled and you sighed contently before laughing.

“I just had a villain on his knees for me.” He blushed and brushed the small gravel off his jeans.

“Yeah, and you will a lot. You’re gonna be my favorite meal in between jobs.” He kisses your forehead gently and goes to pull away but you pull him back in quickly.

“N-Not yet, I need a m-minute to get my legs back.” He had to shake his head to knock him out of it when you said that.

As much as he wanted to rail you right now, he couldn’t. Neither of you had the time, nor was this the place, not that it actually mattered too much to him, but he at least wanted it to be comfortable for you.

“How long will you be gone this time?” You wanted to slap yourself for sounding so pathetic and even asking the question.

“Hopefully only a week or two, I’m hoping it’s only a week.” He leans his head into your throat and wraps his arms around you.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long this last time. It’s really not up to me but I try to see you as much as possible.” You felt butterflies in your stomach as he said that and your arms wrap around his chest.

“You need to get to your friends.” You whined.

“I can’t help the fact that I’m a little fucked out now.” He laughed at that.

“If you’re fucked out now then just wait babe.” He bites your neck before pulling away to leave a kiss on your lips, it was meant to be a short one, but seeing as it’d be the last time for a good week or two, he couldn’t help it as he got pulled into your intoxicating form again.

“If we keep doing this, by the time I leave I’ll be in trouble and you won’t have friends.” You sighed and nodded, heading back towards your house for a new pair of panties.

You thought you’d imagined it when he’d shouted a quick “be safe.” But when you got back outside he was waiting to say it again and give you one more not so quick kiss.

Your friends questioned why you were late of course, and you told them you’d forgotten some homework and scrambled to do it really quickly. Their little puns about you being a nerd didn’t really phase you. No. Not when you knew what you were really doing. You don’t know how they didn’t see your neck, and if they did, they just weren’t commenting on it.

#mha shigaraki #shigaraki smut #shigaraki fluff #angst?#mha smut #mha fluff

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twink-appreciation-posts · 4 years

Text

Needs and Wants - Spencer Reid x Reader

chapter six of “all bets are off”

um. so. spencer is the best fuck you've ever had. also cumming too many times can hurt. who knew?

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, degradation, daddy kinky, spanking, overstimulation, the WORKS. im mildly apologetic.

When you awoke in the morning you heard the noise of static cracking on the other side of your phone. Reaching for it, you immediately noticed it was hot to the touch. Had it been on all night? Had Spencer never hung up?

“Reid?” You questioned groggily.

“You slept quite late.”

You groaned. “Why are you still here?”

“I… I don’t know.” He seemed confused by his own actions. “I guess I just felt strange hanging up.”

“Well. I should probably get dressed, I’m supposed to meet up with a friend for dinner.” You checked the time. “Oh. Fuck. I really did sleep for too long.” You sprung out of bed, rifling through your closet. “What have you been up to today though?”

“Mostly just reading. I slept in a bit late as well.” You could hear his smile through the phone. You occasionally had contact with Spencer outside of work, but not very often. It was nice. “What time is your dinner?”

“Six! It’s just an old friend from college,” you explained, sighing.

“Not excited?” He questioned, an air of humor to his voice.

“I just don’t know what to wear,” you chuckled.

Spencer went quiet on the other end. “You know that one black shirt you have?” He questioned.

You tilted your head a bit. “I have a lot of black shirts, Spence. You gotta be more specific. Wait- did you use your freaky memory to memorize the contents of my closet?”

“It’s not freaky, but yes. And it wasn’t fully intentional.” A pause. “I’m talking about the one with the lace. It’s… like a tank top.” You scanned through your clothes.

“Is it the velvet one?” You asked, noticing a pattern.

“Yeah. That one.”

“You have a thing for velvet, don’t you?” You giggled, remembering his fingers running over the fabric of the dress you had worn a few days prior.

“Maybe I do.”

You took the shirt off the hanger and examined it. Not a bad choice. “Any suggestions for the bottom half, sir?” You teased.

Spencer inhaled loudly. Hah. For once you were the one to catch him off guard. “Well, my first instinct is one of those skirts you like to wear when the team goes out together, with nothing else on underneath, of course.” You opened your mouth to argue. “But I wouldn’t want to risk giving anyone a peek of what’s mine. A skirt would still look nice, though.” He finished.

You rolled your eyes. “So shorts, then.” You said, grabbing a skirt. Why would you want to give him any more confidence of the control he had over you? The skirt had been a good idea, but you didn’t have to be totally honest, right?

Spencer chuckled. “Have you always been so petty?” He questioned.

“Have you always been such a sexual deviant?” You fired back.

“Touché, y/n. Touché.”

You and Spencer hung up a few minutes later since you had dinner plans to make. They weren’t anything special but you valued being punctual. The dinner went well enough, at least in the beginning. The “old friend” you were meeting up with was just a guy you were friends with in college. Your mistake, you would later learn, was deciding that it would be cute to take some pictures for Instagram. They were totally innocent, of course, but within a few minutes of posting them, you got a text message from the one and only Spencer Reid. You told your friend it was a “work thing”, not a total lie, and examined.

‘You wore the skirt’

You chuckled at your phone. ‘I did.’

‘Did you take my advice and wear nothing underneath?’

‘No, because I’m not crazy.’ You rolled your eyes a bit.

‘I’m sure your friend would’ve liked it.’

Before you could reply another text came through. ‘When are you planning on being finished with that friend, by the way?’

‘I’m not sure. Why? Something you’re looking forward to?’

‘Just trying to figure out if I’m going to get to leave bruises on that pretty little neck of yours tonight or tomorrow.’

Another text. Damn, he was a fast typer.

‘I wonder what your friend would’ve thought of that? Maybe you should schedule another dinner with him after I’ve absolutely ruined you. Let him see what a pathetic slut you are for me.’

You glanced up at your friend and back at your phone. Was Spencer seriously doing this right now? “Sorry,” you mumbled an apology across the table. “Working in the FBI can be annoying.”

‘Why are you doing this?’ You typed out.

‘Doing what? Getting you all needy and wet while you’re on your dinner date? Because I can.’

‘You think I’m enjoying this?’

‘I know you are. I bet your thighs are pressed together, I bet your face is bright red. Have you told your friend what you’re texting about?’

‘You make a lot of assumptions, Spencer.’

‘If you weren’t enjoying this, y/n, you would’ve stopped replying a long time ago. What was it you said last night? You need me? Don’t you need me to fuck you? I could’ve been fucking you right now, you know. Could’ve had your face pressed down into the mattress, or maybe I could’ve bent you right over your kitchen counter..’

You weren’t even sure how long you had been on your phone at this point. You felt bad but… fuck. What exactly were you supposed to do in this situation? “Listen I, um,” you began to stutter out. “You know how the BAU is, always calling me in at odd hours, and I uh,” you began to stutter out excuses as your phone dinged over and over again.

‘I wish I could see how flustered you are right now.’ ‘I wonder if you’re thinking about getting on your knees for me..’ ‘Maybe about how badly you want to know how my cock feels inside of you.’

Your friend got the gist of it. You had to go because of “work”. You paid the tab, exiting the restaurant as casually as you possibly could. You texted as you walked back to your car.

‘If you wanted to ruin my night, you’ve successfully done it. I’ll be at my apartment in 20.’

You turned off your phone, shoving it into your purse and ignoring the incessant chimes of text notifications, finding your way home. A few minutes after you had settled, you heard a knock at your door. You braced yourself, pulling it open. “Spencer.” You smiled. “What a surprise.” He didn’t respond, eyes scanning your figure. “So,” you continued. “Do you wanna tell me why you decided to bombard me with text messages during my lovely evening out?” You raised a brow.

He considered your question, fidgeting with his hands. “When you told me that you were seeing a friend I didn’t realize you meant..”

“What, a guy?” You chuckled. “Was I supposed to inform you of his gender beforehand?”

Spencer shook his head. “No. I just hate imagining all of the things that must have been running through his head about you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not that it matters, but it’s not like that. He’s a friend.”

“Oh, I know. It’s not you I’m worried about. I mean, I doubt he could fuck you half as well as I could anyway, but he’s probably been fantasizing about you all night.” A bold statement indeed.

You just laughed. “I think maybe you’re projecting, buddy. You’re the one who blew up my phone and forced me to come home.”

“Forced? Unless my memory is somehow mistaken, I think you’re the one who made that decision.”

“Are you here to argue semantics with me or-“ He cut you off.

“And to your earlier point,” he took a step towards you. “I have no need to project. I’m the one who’s going to get to see you all bruised up and begging for my cock, aren’t I?”There it was. The switch. You had been waiting, waiting for the moment where he got annoyed with you. You opened your mouth, ready to push him even further over the edge. “I’d watch what you say now, little girl. I’m already planning on making sure you regret all the teasing you’ve done the past few days, don’t add insult to injury.”

He really had an issue with teasing, huh? Good. Easier to rile him up. “Is this where you start the whole training thing you were going on about yesterday? You gonna teach me some tricks? And if so, do I at least get some treats if I’m good?” You questioned, going directly against his words of warning. You were watching him closely, wanting to see him seethe. You felt a wave of confusion pass you over as he seemed unfazed, unfortunately maintaining composure. In fact, he stepped forward and closed the gap between your bodies, placing his hands on the hem of your skirt, fingers dancing along it.

“Are you done?” He asked, eyes not leaving yours.

You looked up at him, mind going blank. “Um. No. Fuck you.” You spat out quickly, a last-ditch effort to get more of a reaction out of him.

“Right. I’m not sure what I expected from such a useless little slut. You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Spencer mumbled. In one swift motion he was pulling your skirt down and watching it pool at your feet. He was kissing you just a moment later, hands holding your face firmly in place. You would’ve fought for control, but you could already tell it would be a futile effort. His fingers were digging into your skull, tangling in your hair, and his lips were relentless, barely giving either of you room to breathe. You could feel it now, though. The anger you had been working so hard to trigger was coming out in full force. When he eventually pulled away his hands moved from your head to your breasts, swirling around the lace and velvet that covered them. You were panting, watching him, the way his fingers flexed and his eyes followed his own movements. “You’re so pretty, it really is a shame you can’t behave yourself.” He pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you exposed.

He leaned down and began to assault your chest with his tongue, one of his hands shoving your panties to the side and inserting two fingers into your pussy without warning. Your hand flew to your mouth, attempting to stifle the embarrassingly loud moan that he had caused. He didn’t take it slow at all, no, he started off at a brutal pace, as if his mission was to get you to cum as quickly as possible. If that had been his mission, he was succeeding. Before you had a chance to tell him that you were close his lips were at your neck, biting hard enough that you were sure that makeup wouldn’t cover the aftermath. “Cum for me, slut. It’s not hard to tell that you’re close already. So fucking needy for me, all you do is fight me but look how easily you crumble. There’s no hesitation when my fingers are inside of you, huh?” You couldn’t reply even if you had wanted too, you were too busy struggling to keep yourself standing as your orgasm washed over you. Spencer helped, a hand behind you to keep you stable, but you were still shaking. “Good girl. Let’s see, how many more of those do we have left.” You looked at him with confusion. “Well, I’d say we have one from at the club, when you let your hand wander,” his fingers hadn’t let up, still pumping in and out of you. You were trying your best to focus on his words, but it was proving to be a difficult task. “Another from that night, how you touched yourself right where I could hear,” You wanted to argue or say anything really, but your voice was too busy moaning and whimpering as his thumb moved onto your clit. “One from earlier today, especially after that little stunt you pulled on Instagram. And at least one more for the show you just put on before I shut you up.” You were close again. Fuck. It was too close together. Too much stimulation. “What do you think, baby? Does 4 sound good? We can make it 3 right now if you cum for me.” He said ‘if’ like it was an option for you, but it was far from it. You moaned his name, probably loud enough to alert your neighbors, as your second orgasm arrived. “Fuck, oh my god, Spencer. Fuck.” You panted out, legs giving out beneath you. He chuckled, holding you up on his own and finally removing his fingers from inside of you. “Good girl. So good for me.” He praised, allowing you to catch your breath. He picked you up now, taking you to your bed, and gently placing you down. You watched as he began to pull off layers of clothing. You didn’t think you could get any more turned on than you already were but seeing Spencer undress definitely did it. You couldn’t peel your eyes away. He left his boxers on, his dick straining against them.

He moved onto the bed, hovering over you. You prepared yourself for him to kiss you again but instead he spoke, brushing a hair out of your face. “The only words I want to hear coming out of that filthy little mouth of yours from now on are ‘yes, daddy’. Do you understand?”

You gulped. Yes. You understood. But were you actually going to-

His had went to your throat, not applying pressure. A warning.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.” He flipped you over onto your stomach, inhaling sharply. He moved his hands underneath your hips, picking them up so that your ass was displayed.

“Look at you,” he tugged your panties down your thighs, hands skimming over the skin. “Such a perfect little toy for me. So eager to be fucked.”

You squirmed, his hands being so close to where you desperately wanted them.

“Do you want this, baby?” He asked, his hand coming down on your ass. It stung, but only for a moment. Not his full force, you could tell, but it was enough to get you to squeal. “Y-Yes, daddy.” You spoke softly. You felt his hand leave your skin and braced yourself for it to return. It did, of course, but much harder this time. You flinched a bit but Spencer held you in place. “Look at you, such a fast learner.” He cooed, another blow landing on your ass. It hurt. You knew that. But you found yourself prioritizing the pleasure in your mind. “You said that you wanted bruises that lasted for weeks, right?” He asked, hand coming down again. The pain began to become ever-more present, even when his hand wasn’t on your skin you could feel the sting from the cool air. He repeated the process a few times, mumbling words of praise in between. Tears began to spill from your eyes when he was finished. Without his hand to support you, you crumbled back down on the bed, laying on your stomach. Spencer flipped you over gently, watching the tears flow. “Good girl,” he praised, wiping a few of them away. “Such a perfect little slut for daddy. You did so well.” You found yourself relishing in the praise up in a way you hadn’t before. “T-Thank you, daddy.” You breathed out shakily. Spencer smiled at you and began to spread your legs apart gently. “But you’re not done yet, are you baby?”

Your eyes widened at the reminder. It seemed impossible. You weren’t sure your body would even be able to take it. You began to protest, but your words were cut short as he began to trail kisses down your body. He didn’t waste much time on his way to your pussy, tongue grazing your clit. “Oh, fuck..” your back arched instinctively. Encouraged by your reaction, Spencer began to roll his tongue over your clit and then down towards your entrance, moving his face and tongue at a slow pace. You watched, his hair falling onto your thighs and tickling them gently. “F-Fuck, keep going. Please.” You whined. He chuckled against you, speeding up his pace. Both of his hands were planted on your thighs, keeping them spread for easier access. His tongue worked against you harshly. Demanding. He was exploring, making sure to taste every inch of you, moving like he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had. You felt a familiar knot begin to form in your stomach, your hips bucking up towards his face. He moved one of his hands to your stomach, pressing down firmly, pinning your body down to the mattress. “Daddy, fuck, I’m gonna cum. I-I’m so close. You feel so fucking good. Fuck. So good, so good, so-“ And there it was, your 3rd orgasm of the night. Your vision became blurry, you were barely even aware of the fact that Spencer had gotten fully naked until a few moments later when you were coming back down to Earth.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, baby. Only two more. You can do two more, can’t you?” You were weak. You guessed 3 orgasms and some spanking would do that to someone, but your body still ached for him. He approached you, his hand moving to slide your legs apart once again. You whimpered in anticipation. “Beg for me, baby. Tell daddy how badly you need him.” His voice was low, commanding.

“Please Spencer, fuck, I need it. I need to feel you inside of me. It’s all I’ve been able to think about all day, please. I want you to ruin me. You need to ruin me, please.”

Spencer seemed content with your response because after a few moments he was pushing himself inside of you, releasing a string of curses from his mouth as he did. The intrusion was piercing as he split you open, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Fuck. Yes. This was what you needed. “You’re so wet and tight for me baby.” Spencer groaned, slowly pulling out and pushing himself back in. “So fucking good. Such a good little fucktoy.” He began to find a rhythm, his hips snapping into yours aggressively. The noise of his skin meeting yours filled the room, broken only by the moans that were tumbling out of you uncontrollably now. After all of the overstimulation you had already been through, your fourth orgasm built up quickly. “No one else can make you feel like this, isn’t that right baby? Fuck. No one else can make you cum like I can.”

He was right. He was fucking right. Out of every sexual encounter you had ever had... this one stood miles above.

“No one.” You agreed. “No one else. No one but you.” Your words were coming out barely comprehendible. “Fuck. Please no more,” you began to whine, your release catching up to you. Spencer reached up, closing a hand around your neck to silence you. “Shh baby, just cum for me. Cum for me, come on. You’re so close.” Tears began to flow again as your 4th climax ripped through you, every single one of your nerves on fire. You felt like you were being torn apart. Your tears clouded your vision, but it hardly mattered. You were seeing stars. You could hear, somewhere in the distance, it felt like, Spencer praising you, his hand releasing your neck. You gasped for air, panting, and sputtering.

One more. One more. One more.

“Fuck, Spence, I can’t.” You sobbed, “I can’t.” You repeated. “You can and you will.” He replied, voice shaking. He was close too. You could tell. His thrusts were becoming more sporadic, more frantic. “You’ve been so fucking good for me, baby. Keep going.” Fuck. When your vision returned you saw him, sweat dripping down his body, his hair matted down, and you could feel yourself clench around him. Your body ached, but you could still feel it approaching. “F-Fuck. Fuck. I..” you were a mess, whimpering, shaking, all because of Spencer Reid. “I know baby. Cum with me. I wanna feel you cum around my cock.” Spencer groaned, and you didn’t have the strength left in you to fight. Your body was set aflame as you came, feeling the warmth of his own climax as well. You were panting, grasping at consciousness and you came down. Somewhere in your brain, you processed Spencer getting off of the bed. When your mind came back to you you sat up, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“Spencer..” you said softly, watching as he pulled back on his shirt. “That was...”

He nodded, lost in thought.

“Are you okay?” You asked, frowning.

“I’m fine. Just thinking about how you’re gonna hide those hickeys on Monday.”

You touched your hand to your neck. “Oh. Yeah. That might be an issue.”

You got ready to hop off the bed, but a wave of pain rushed over you. Too soon to start moving again.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Spencer’s voice was sweet now, laced with concern. “I’ll go get you some Advil or something. You have some right?” You nodded. “I can run a bath if you want, too.”

“That would be great. Thanks.” You smiled weakly.

As left the room your phone dinged, alerting you of a text message from Garcia.

‘Girls night tomorrow!! You can’t say no, Emily and JJ already said yes.’

Fuck.

taglist <3

@101donuts @annestine @spideyboix @babybloomer @welcome-to-hoeville @eldahae

#all bets are off #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dom!spencer

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

My Side

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: language, lots of smut, prostate massage, fluff, some mentions of angst (but it’s very minimal)

Genre: Marriage AU

Word Count: 4K

Summary: Y/N has had her entire future planned out ever since she could remember: step one- graduate college (done), step two- find a good-paying job (done), step three- marry someone she adores (done), and step four- have kids (???). She understands that life is full of obstacles, but is it too much to ask for your husband to finally knock you up?

A/N: Big apology to this anon user who requested this and had to wait like 8 billion years for me to finish it.

The fertility clinic was unusually cold, and I found myself shivering in direct contradiction with the sweltering summer heat collecting outside of the office building. Maybe that was the point: the doctors wanted to keep you totally alert while you waited for what seemed like hours for a standard routine visit. Because I could’ve already fallen asleep at this point - taking advantage of my day off from work to do something other than fret over the working condition of my reproductive system.

Of course, there was also the issue of my grumpy husband who had been thoroughly displeased when he found out exactly what a pap smear test implied. “He was totally checking you out when we came in,” Chan said. “Then, he insisted on sticking that thing up your vagina?”

“Oh, give it a rest, Chan,” I said. “I knew they would do that before I even came here.”

“I think he just wanted to look at your pussy,” Chan insisted. “And he did it right in front of me like I didn’t even exist!”

“You weren’t forced to stay in the room,” I pointed out, which I would’ve preferred but Chan insisted on standing over me like some kind of jealous observer who actually wanted to watch such an intimate procedure.

“Yeah, he would’ve preferred that,” Chan said, leaning further back in his chair. “How the hell is this even supposed to help us? We’ve only been trying for a few months.”

“Well, I want to make sure everything is working properly,” I said, and (just to spite him) I glanced down at his crotch. “What if you’re having performance issues, honey?”

“My dick works just fine,” Chan insisted. “But you know what? I think it’s partially your fault that we can’t pregnant. You’re putting too much pressure on him and it’s hard for me to focus.”

“Him?” I questioned with a grin. "Do you really want to personify your penis?”

“That’s not the point!” Chan exclaimed. “Did you even hear me, Y/N?”

“But what is the point, Chan? What exactly are you having trouble focusing on?” I asked. “We’re talking about fucking, not a tax audit. Keep the office out of our bedroom.”

“You don’t think I know the difference?”

“Apparently not since it requires more effort than necessary for you to orgasm,” I screeched, barely getting the words out before the doctor’s return.

Immediately, Chan and I were both forced smiles, pretending like we weren’t just having a pointless argument. “Well,” the doctor said. “Everything is fine on your end, Mrs. Bang. I guess that means we can perform some tests on your husband.”

“Oh, that would be great,” I said, even as Chan shifted restlessly from next to me. “Is there anything you need?”

“We’d like to ask you for a sperm sample,” the doctor replied while handing Chan a clear, transparent plastic cup that he accepted with obvious hesitation. “I’ll give you some time.”

“Thank you,” I said, looking over at Chan who was glaring at the cup as if personally offended by its presence.

But at least he waited until the doctor was gone before looking at me with wide eyes. “What do I do?” Chan asked, holding up the plastic cup while appearing thoroughly taken aback.

“It’s just masturbating,” I hissed at him.

“They want me to jerk off into this cup?” Chan gasped like the idea was so totally perplexing to him.

“How else will they get a sperm sample?” I asked him, rolling my eyes because I was growing impatient.

But Chan still hesitated, using one hand to hold the cup while his other traveled down to the front of his jeans. “Do I just...”

“Yes!” I shouted while standing up from my chair. “It’s nothing hard, Chan, you’ve been masturbating since 9th grade!”

“Yeah, but it’s embarrassing to do it here,” Chan argued, and I sighed for what had to be the thousandth time that day.

“There’s a curtain for privacy,” I said, reaching for my bag from the floor. “I’ll be waiting outside until you’re done.”

“Y/N!” Chan whined, but I left without another word, hoping that Chan could get his shit together because I was exhausted and the prospect of the bed waiting for me at home was suddenly everything that I wanted.

It turned out that Chan and I were both perfectly healthy, and there should be nothing impeding my ability to finally get pregnant. Chan even managed to smile after our doctor complimented his sperm because they were powerful swimmers or whatever the hell that meant. But that had also been hours ago, and after a well-deserved nap, I was feeling exceptionally horny. Thankfully, Chan was never the type to turn down sex, and a few innocent kisses had turned into a full-blown pornography session within moments of me circling my hips against the front of his jeans.

“Fuck me, Chan,” I said, and he nodded eagerly as we both helped each other escape the obstacle of our clothes.

“You should apologize to my dick first,” Chan said teasingly when he had me spread open in front of him, fisting his cock as he started jerking himself off.

“What? Why?”

“You questioned my performance earlier,” Chan said with a shit-eating grin. “Maybe my cock isn’t good enough for you.”

“It’s fine,” I said, whining when I tried to wrap my hand around the base of his erection, only to have Chan knock it away with a sharp growl. "Alright!” I groaned. “I’m sorry I questioned your all-powerful shaft, okay? So, can you please just fuck me already?”

Chan chuckled at my easy compliance, and he ran his thumb across the slit of his cock before positioning himself at my wet entrance. “Remember that next time, Y/N,” he said, exhaling shakily when he started to push inside.

“Shit!” I cried, reaching out for his broad shoulders as I held on as tight as possible for the ride waiting ahead of me.

“Such a tight cunt,” Chan remarked, pausing a moment to grind himself against my insides just to feel the pressure around his cock.

“Go faster,” I requested, throwing my head back when he complied, smacking his hips into mine as he searched for the perfect angle to leave me seeing stars.

“Yeah?” Chan purred, and he started thrusting faster than before, dragging his cock against the pulsating walls of my cunt, forcing more arousal to leak out around him. “Look at how good you always take my cock, baby.”

I reveled in the praise, craning my neck to the side just so that I could watch him disappear inside of me over and over again to match the sensation of his thick cock filling me up so well that it was almost mind-numbingly good. The best part was the pleasing sound of Chan’s moans, and I admired the way that he held himself up over me so that his muscles were practically bulging as he rolled his hips with seductive grinds. Meanwhile, I was drooling over the visual of his bulging biceps, whining underneath him because Chan was being unusually rough. Not that I would ever complain since every thrust managed to brush the tip of his cock perfectly against my cervix.

But it was only after Chan reached down to add a finger to the already tight fit of his cock inside my pussy that I remembered something that I had read on the internet as part of my endless pregnancy research. My eyes flew open at the reminder, and the lustful haze surrounding my sex-addled brain quickly vanished. “Hold on, Chan,” I said, pushing against his chest and disrupting the steady rhythm he had been maintaining.

“W-what?” Chan stuttered, pulling out while watching me roll over onto my stomach.

“This is a better position,” I said, raising my ass high into the air before giving him a teasing wiggle.

“Whatever,” Chan grunted, still too gone in his pleasure to care that much about my shenanigans. He immediately caged me in with his thighs, fumbling with his erect cock before aligning the tip with my aching cunt. I was relieved when he started jostling his cock back where it belonged, meandering in elegant strokes that resulted in the best friction.

“Make sure you come,” I told him while decorating the pale skin of his shoulders with nail marks as I reached behind me.

“You first,” Chan insisted, and my heart warmed at his selflessness even while it felt like all the blood inside of me was rushing south, moving through my veins and spilling over with a rapid descent that left me seeing white while Chan moved even quicker, thrusting like a man deprived.

I felt him come only moments later with the familiar heat that I had grown to appreciate more and more over the last few months. Thereafter, I immediately reached for a pillow from behind me, wincing at the sensitivity that lingered between my legs. “What are you doing?” Chan asked when he collapsed on the bed next to me.

“It’s supposed to help,” I said, raising my hips to place the pillow directly underneath me. “This article said that raising your legs after sex can improve your chances.”

“That seems ridiculous, Y/N,” Chan said.

“Hey! Blame your sperm,” I countered. “It’s not my fault they need an extra boost.”

“My sperm are just fine,” Chan grunted. “You heard the doctor. They’re excellent swimmers.”

“This is just a precaution,” I told him, sighing in relief when I reached down to cup my heat, ensuring that all of Chan’s cum stayed inside where it belonged.

For the past several weeks, work had become something of a chore that I was forced to endure on a regular basis. It was often a struggle to force my way through piles of paperwork or tedious emails that always said much of the same thing. After a while, I would find myself glaring at the clock because I was quite certain that time was moving slow for the sole purpose of annoying me.

There was also the issue of dealing with my colleagues, especially the ones who liked to gossip and had effectively made a whole thing out of my failed attempts at pregnancy. “Oh, Y/N,” they would tell me. “It’s been three months, hasn’t it?”

Like they didn’t have anything better to do with their lives besides meddle in mine. But the worst of them all were the ones who decided that they were some kind of authority figures and tried to give me helpful “advice.” Everything from the shit that I had already heard from my doctor and the articles online, to bizarre practices that left me wondering where they found their information.

My manager’s personal assistant was a frequent advocate. She was far more insistent than the rest of them because she already had two kids at home who she described as future Mozarts in the making. And because she had already been successful (twice, I might add), she always sat next to me at lunch with a new suggestion that supposedly guaranteed fertilization.

“It could be that he’s under too much pressure,” she told me before biting into her salad.

“I’m asking him to have sex with me, not invent a new computer,” I grumbled.

“Yeah, but I’m sure you’ve both been having a lot of sex, which might seem like a good idea,” she continued. “But it might actually turn out to be far worse.”

“What do you suggest then? Should I kick him out of the bedroom for a week or two?” I snarked, but she was hardly bothered by my sarcastic attitude.

“My husband and I tried stimulating him more directly,” she explained. “Maybe you could try it out.”

“How so?”

“It’s something like a prostate massage,” she revealed in a hushed tone as if it was top-secret information. “There’s all kinds of information about it on the internet.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said, wanting nothing more than to brush aside her words, but maybe I was too desperate because I found myself skimming through countless articles after lunch, soaking in the vast amounts of information that I uncovered.

And I left the office that day with a new strategy in mind to surprise my husband.

The moment I first walked through the door, I was yanking off my jacket and calling for Chan who ducked his head out of our bedroom. “Why the hell are you yelling?”

“Because I have a wonderful idea,” I said, practically skipping over to him and offering him a deep kiss.

“Y/N,” Chan murmured against my touch, grabbing my shoulders to pull me back. “What are you going on about?”

“Just take your stupid clothes off,” I said, skirting past him into the bedroom. “I want you naked on the bed.”

“You’re already horny?” Chan chuckled, but he made no protest of yanking his shirt over his head.

“I want to try something,” I told him, opening the door to our closet to search for something that we hadn’t used together in a long time.

“Should I be afraid?” Chan asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as he fisted his half-hard erection.

“Not if you have an open mind,” I said, turning around to hold up the bottle of lube, and Chan’s smile instantly vanished.

“What’s that for?”

“Well, tonight I’m using it on you,” I said, laughing at the way his forehead creased in confusion. “My co-worker actually made a pretty useful recommendation today.”

“Okay?...” Chan trailed off with an expression of perfect concentration - like he was doing his absolute best to understand.

“The internet called it prostate milking,” I explained, biting my lower lip to keep myself from laughing at the horrified expression on Chan’s face. “I want to stimulate your prostate.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” Chan asked.

“Look, it has a lot of medical benefits,” I said. “Plus, I read that it can feel really good.”

Chan squired anxiously on the bed when I sat down next to him, and I could see that his cock was perfectly flaccid between his legs. “I don’t know, Y/N-”

“Don’t worry,” I interrupted him. “This is perfectly normal. Now, be a good boy for me and get on your hands and knees.”

Chan frowned. “Good boy?” he grumbled before obeyed my command, crawling his way up the bed to position himself in the way I had suggested.

“There we go,” I said, softly running a hand down his spine.

“So far, I’m not impressed,” Chan muttered.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” I said, situating myself behind him before palming his ass. “This looks better than I remember, Channie.”

“Yeah, I guess the squats helped,” Chan said, and he flinched when I snapped a glove in place over my right hand. “What’s that for?”

“You think I’m gonna mess around your ass without a glove?” I snorted. “That’s not very hygienic.”

“Hygienic, yeah, okay,” Chan huffed, and he let out a noise somewhere between a whine and a grunt when I opened the bottle of lube and drizzled some on my fingertips.

“Hold still,” I said, trying to get him to relax when my finger started circling his asshole, pushing against the tight muscle which wasn’t so easy to penetrate. However, with enough perseverance, I forced one finger inside and heard Chan release a rather unattractive sound.

“How does it feel?” I asked him, trying to move my finger around like I had read online.

“It just feels like you’ve shoved your finger up my ass,” Chan snapped, and I knew not to take it personally since he wasn’t so willing to go along with my crazy scheme in the first place.

“Don’t be so tense,” I said, rubbing my hand along his lower back. “Should I use more lube?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, Y/N,” Chan groaned, and I could tell that he was growing frustrated.

I was also losing confidence - wondering if this had been a bad idea because it definitely wasn’t as easy as my co-worker promised. Plus, I could tell that Chan was uncomfortable, squirming around under me while his cock hung limply between his legs. Clearly, he wasn’t finding any pleasure from this, and maybe it was entirely my fault for jumping into this without more preparation.

“Shit, Chan,” I said, removing my finger while releasing a sigh. “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have done this.”

I cleared my throat, feeling increasingly anxious when Chan refused to respond to my apology. He was still supporting himself on his hands in front of me, chest heaving up and down with each breath. I could see that the bright red tint to his ears betrayed his embarrassment and that only made me feel worse because the last thing I wanted to do was make this bad for him.

Eventually, Chan rolled off to the side of the bed, collecting his sweatpants from the floor before walking into the bathroom. I closed my eyes when the door slammed behind him, and I quietly left the bedroom to give Chan some privacy because it was obvious that he wasn’t pleased with the situation.��

So much for my co-worker’s stupid suggestion.

However, in the grand scheme of things, I was always the first to recognize when my actions warranted reprimand.

After sleeping on the couch in the living room, I woke-up with a sore lower back and a guilty conscious. Chan had already left for work that morning, and he probably hadn’t paid me a single glance. But I probably deserved his wrath, which meant I would do everything that I could to make it up to him.

Consequently, I found myself flashing a bright smile at Chan’s office secretary who greeted me politely before calling Chan’s phone to see if he had some time to see me. There was a small part of me which worried that Chan might send me away because of last night’s events. Thankfully, his secretary waved me inside and I took a deep breath before opening the door while carrying the packed lunch I prepared for him.

Once inside, Chan offered me a cursory glance that only lasted a brief moment until his attention was once again focused on the file in front of him. “Channie,” I said, wincing at my shrill tone. “I brought you some lunch.”

I hesitated when Chan didn’t respond - walking over to his desk to carefully deposit the bag on his desk. I waited for a brief moment, but Chan refused to acknowledge me, which meant I needed to approach him more directly. “I’m sorry about last night, Channie,” I said, coming around his desk to perch myself on the edge. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m also sorry about the past few months because I’ve been so desperate to finally have my positive pregnancy test that I started to really neglect you.”

The pen Chan had been writing with stopped in the middle of whatever sentence he had been writing, and my husband finally allowed me the privilege of looking into his dark brown eyes. “It’s hard for me to stay mad at you, Y/N,” Chan said, and I nearly burst into tears at the simple declaration.

“You deserve to be mad at me,” I said. “I can’t believe you let me get away with acting like this. You should get the husband of the year award or whatever.”

Chan chuckled, tossing his pencil aside. “Sweetheart, I know how much this means to you, and I want it just as much, but maybe it would be nice if we could be intimate sometimes without worrying about whether or not we’re following all those advice columns you read.”

“You’re right,” I agreed, and I pushed myself away from the edge of the desk and fell onto my knees in front of him - reaching out to grab his thighs between my hands. “What if I blew you right here in the office?”

Chan’s answering moan was enough to solidify my resolve, and I easily worked apart the belt fastening around his suit pants. My fingers worked with an experienced touch because this wasn’t the first time we had done something like this in his big executive office and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. “Fuck, Y/N,” Chan said, grabbing large handfuls of my hair while directing my lips closer to his exposed cock-head.

“Let me take care of you, darling,” I said, offering a tentative lick to his pulsating tip. Chan was already hard, and I gave him a few strokes with my hand before allowing my mouth to take care of the rest - opening wide to take him as deep as I could without gagging.

“Look at you,” Chan snarled, and his fingers traced the seam of my lips stretched obscenely around his cock.

I moaned around his erection, and Chan closed his eyes as he fingers tightened their hold - hips moving every so often to force his cock even further down my throat. But I’m sure it made for one hell of a visual, and I hollowed my cheeks as I ran my tongue across the distinct vein trailing along the underside.

“Keep going,” Chan said, and I could tell that he was close. And I started bobbing my head up and down, mimicking the same effect of his cock fucking my pussy, relaxing my throat and encouraging Chan to do whatever he needed to push himself over the edge.

He eventually came with an exaggerated groan, and I wrinkled my nose at the taste of him. Yet, I knew better than to let anything go to waste, and I struggled around the rawness of my throat as I swallowed - swiping my tongue around the head of his spent cock to clean up the excess.

“Was it good?” I asked him with a hoarse voice.

“Of course it was,” Chan replied, encouraging me off the floor and into his lap. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as I listened to his heart slow back down to normal. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said, teasing his lips across mine. “You’re not gonna freak out over the fact that we just wasted my perfectly good semen?”

I rolled my eyes before playfully hitting his shoulder. “It’s never a waste if it makes you come like that.”

He smiled, bringing out the fullness of his dimples, and we sat together while Chan ate his lunch and I mindlessly talked about the latest office gossip. It was moments like these that I loved more than anything about my marriage to Chan - pregnancy be damned. Ironically, it was only a few weeks later that I found myself looking down at a thin white strip with a blue cross displayed across the surface: positive.

#stayverse #skzsmutnetwork #skzwriternet #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #skz imagines #bang chan fanfic #chan fanfic #skz chan fanfic #bang chan smut #chan smut #skz smut #skz fluff #skz reader insert

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fluffnstuffq · 3 years

Text

We all know that the “kin for fun” trend is bad.

Recently, however, the question of “why is it bad?” has risen in prominence, and thus I’d like to give my two cents on the matter. I initially wanted to give a rehash of the whole “this is a community which has been around for decades, please don’t appropriate its terms because you don’t know what you’re talking about” spiel.. though I know that’s been repeated endlessly to no avail.

Dozens of times I’ve tried to explain that, though I’ve often been faced with the “words change” or “it’s just a game, it harms no one” argument.

So I’m taking a more personal approach.

I don’t know if my anecdotes will change anyone’s mind, but if anyone in the “kin for fun” community sees this and actually reads through it, I implore you to try to listen to genuine otherkin, do some research, and find other terms that better suit you.

Beware, long rambling anecdote under the cut.

It is hard to believe that, a mere 8 months ago, I was new to the otherkin community.

I’d been reading about and researching otherkinity in depth for as long as a year prior, though it was as recently as May 2020 upon which I took my own first step into evaluating my own experiences, creating an otherkin oriented side blog, and formally taking the plunge into what I’d initially assumed, from fun “kin assign ask games” or “no doubles drama”, to be a trend.

While I quickly versed myself in the original, serious and introspective parts of the community, I had my fair share of run-ins with those of the “kinnie/kin for fun crowd”. One such experience, over the course of about two-three months, forever left an impression on the way I view the community (and the problems within it) as a whole.

Without naming names, some of the individuals we encountered turned out to be... the practical embodiment of some of the worst facets of this community.

They were the prime example of the misguided “kinnie” mindset. Dead-set on fitting under the ‘kin label, though unwilling to do any research on their own. Faking out of control, dramatic shifts to seem more “valid” to genuine otherkin (more on that later). Willing to go as far as picking traits from other people’s original characters to “customize” their “kinsonas” perfectly.

However, aside from their merely misguided attempts to fit in (which could’ve been easily fixed if not for the stubborn kinnie mindset), the most scathing of their actions highlighted some major issues of the “kin for fun” side.

In just a few months, we had our identities stomped on and treated like nothing more than a game.

You see, the “kinnie” mindset is not self contained. It is almost impossible to maintain this mindset and respect the involuntary, deeply personal nature of otherkin history, due both to widespread misinformation/trends, as well as the common plague of stubborn ignorance of definitions.

In most cases we’ve seen, once one steps fully into the mindset that their own kintypes are nothing more than a game or an act, they begin to at the very least subconsciously view others’ experiences the same way.

This is obviously not the case for all those who take on alterhuman identities by choice (ex: copinglinking). However, in taking on the “kin for fun” label, one immediately disrespects the identities of others by appropriating and bending terms with a history to fit themself.

And once one establishes that they lack care or concern for the already, dare I say, endangered terms once meant to foster a sense of community and understanding, of shared experiences... that person already predisposes themself to spiraling into greater disrespect and ignorance of the identities of others.

The individuals that we encountered, like many others of this mindset, used their so-called “kins” for the sole purpose of feeling validated, for looking “cool” and as leverage to get their way. Because it was nothing more than roleplay and a brief interest to them, they often treated others’ kintypes as something that could be similarly discarded/”turned off” or reset. As if others’ kintypes were nothing more than characters which didn’t deserve respect.

Exotrauma and otherwise painful memories, while stressful and sometimes nightmare inducing for us, were nothing more than fodder for outlandish “story ideas” and “angst” for them.

In the cases of these individuals faking shifts, they often acted in ways threatening and even triggering to those around them; though because it was just a show for them, they failed time and time again to recognize the negative impact their violent “shifts” had on others.

They had no restraint, for both their own actions and the fearful/concerned reactions of others were just harmless roleplay in their eyes. (I do feel like.. even roleplay should have boundaries if the events of a story upset the people participating, and the notion that anything goes, even at the expense of someone else’s comfort.. it just gives very uncomfortable “fiction does not affect reality” vibes. Though, that’s a story for another time).

As our experiences weren’t real to them and never had been, they often conflated us with the “canon characters”, like we and many others they interacted with were nothing more than toys to fixate on, change and push “headcanons” onto, and test the limits of.

And because they didn’t care to learn, because individuals such as these continued to remorselessly fall deeper into the rabbit hole of “I do whatever I want/I don’t care to learn otherwise”, the lack of consideration grew more severe.

Those who “kin for fun” may certainly be experiencing.. something, I will not discount that assertion. Whether copinglinking, a hearttype, or merely a fictionflicker/cameo shift. However, it’d be disingenuous to say that it is harmless for them to continue to warp and pick at terms that do not and will never fit them. For every joke, every dozens-long “coping-kinlist”, every admittance of “haha I was never a serious kin”, they all do the same in spreading misinformation.

As I see more and more people self-identifying as “copinglink, but using the kin title because it sounds better”, even if calling oneself “a non-serious kinnie”, one wonders... why use those terms if you know they do not fit? Why encroach upon communities of bittersweet memories, of aching homesickness, of involuntary nonhumanity, only with the intention of putting on an act?

Why fight so hard, when directly told and shown how “kin for fun” actively tears apart the already dwindling otherkin community on this platform? Why cling so hard to words that are not yours, why force change upon the definitions of words meant to be a safe haven for those searching for understanding? Why paint “serious otherkin” as dangerous gatekeepers, sufferers of clinical lycanthropy, or those merely suffering from delusions/hallucinations?

Because of those who “kin for fun”, I was initially steered away from investigating my own identity; I’d only seen the jokes, the toxic “kin drama”, the cringe blogs and factkin and “kinning”. Because of “kin for fun”, it took me over a year to come to terms with my own alterhumanity, in all of its facets.

Because of “kinnies”, my fears are proven time and time again that I will come across someone who views my identity as roleplay at best and “childish, a phase, character theft” at worse. Because of “kinnies” and the mindset they’ve fostered, time and time again someone steals my memories, my experiences, my identity, justifying it as creating their own version, like an AU of an AU.

Because of “kinnies”, time and time again I’ve been told to “stop taking things so seriously, it’s just for fun” when complaining about my identity being minimized. I’ve been told that “kinnies”, despite appropriating an already existing community, are the “normal ones”, the “sane ones”, the “good ones” who don’t really believe in all that they boast.

Some have even told me that it doesn’t matter at all, for all they can see is a trend with no real hold over their identity in the longrun. “It won’t matter in ten years”, they say.

Perhaps not for them, long after their interest in the “trend” has faded. But for me and countless other genuine otherkin? In ten years I will still be Blixer from Just Shapes and Beats, I will still be an unnamed creature of woods and starlight and faded memories of golden lanterns, I will still be otherkin, and I will still carry the scars of my identity being torn to shreds and thrown into my face like dirt.

I cannot run from my kintypes and never could, even when I was afraid of them. “Kinnies”, in most cases, hardly believe my identity really exists.

What do they believe, then? What are they trying to achieve, scrubbing away the less “aesthetically pleasing”, fluffy bits of this community? What good does it do them to take meaningful, personal words to describe an identity that they can shed at the drop of a hat if it is “problematic” or boring at the end of the day?

One can smile and nod and say that, despite “kinning for fun”, they still respect otherkinity as a whole. And I say, in most cases, that reassurance is hollow. You have already stolen our words, you have already spread misinformation.

This has stumbled into rambling territory, so I leave a few questions, honest, genuine questions.

I ask those who “kin for fun”, what is the allure of words that you have stolen? What is the allure of having the blood of a shattered community on your hands?

As many others have said before, you may find a place in the greater alterhuman community. We have terms for you, as well as many other specific experiences.

Why fight so hard to steal our haven, to push us out of our own spaces, when your own words are waiting for you with open arms?

Words change, yes, but why fight so hard to change them at the expense of others?

#fluffywords #otherkin #fictionkin #important #//i want this to be SEEN this is our most important essay post yet /srs //#please reblog #//rb if you want to i mean. not forcing anyone /gen. its just very very important weee//#//we crave introspective discussion//

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laufire · 3 years

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(CW for mentions of csa)

A lot of Commonly Accepted (Often Through Uncritical Repetition) Wisdom in fandom leaves me baffled, when not straight up ticked off, but one that's been on my mind lately, that never fails to bring a scrunched up expression to my face, is the idea that Bela Talbot's backstory was some last minute add-on to her character.

You might argue that the reveal was rushed since the writers caved in and killed her off against their original plan (or at the very least, earlier than). Or that using abuse is a trite way to raise sympathy for an antagonistic character. You could even say that some of the finer details might’ve not been set in stone until they sat down to write her exist, although that one is dubious. But I’m never really going to buy that Bela’s backstory hadn’t been already planned, likely in big part.

The reason why is Season Three Episode Six, “Red Sky At Morning”, Bela’s second episode, co-written by Eric Kripke himself. As all episodes with Bela were, may I add; which means he had a hand in crafting her story from the beginning, as creator, director, and writer.

There Dean, a character that has been shown as sharp and intuitive (although his success rate ain’t that great when it comes to Bela, admittedly xD), immediately pegs her as someone with Issues TM, asking “how did she get like this”. He even taunts her by referencing her father, showing off his talent to hit where it hurts by asking if he “didn’t give her enough hugs”, ‘cause he’s classy like that. This visibly affects Bela, changing her demeanor in their conversation, from more playful to defensive. Hell, I remember during my first watch in real time this moment, especially paired with the rest of the episode, was when I first thought it was possible she came from an abusive family.

Because, c’mon. This whole episode is about parricide. The monster of the week is a ghost who haunts those that “spilled their own family’s blood”. We get two other examples: a woman whose accidental car crash killed her cousin, and two brothers who killed their father for the inheritance. Clearly, the ghost doesn’t have a narrow criteria when it comes to means or culpability -which makes sense given his particular story: he was tried for treason and his brother, the captain of the ship, issued the sentence.

And just as we find out this information... Bela sees the ghost ship that foretells her death. This, paired with the insinuations about an unsavvory past and her discomfort at the mention of her father, aren’t a wealth of information, but they start to paint a picture. We now know for a fact that Bela caused the death of at least one relative (mom and dad); that she wouldn’t have needed to do it directly (she made a crossroads deal); and that she might’ve had a sympathetic motive (her father sexually abused her and her mother turned a blind eye).

That scene offers some more tidbits of information about her past that seem too in tune with 3x15 to be coincidental, and that absolutely break my heart: Bela’s “You wouldn’t understand. No one did.“ and “I’ll just do what I’ve always done. I’ll deal with it myself”. See, I always thought Bela must’ve told people, when she was a kid. That she reached out for help not just to her mother, but to everyone around her that she thought could’ve help: teachers, maybe even law enforcement; adults that should’ve being worthy of that trust and protected her. Except no one did (and the fact that her family seemed to be not only very rich but influential paints a very bleak picture that surely contributed to her cynic view of the world). So she took matters in her own hands, and sold her soul for ten years of relative safety and freedom from her abusers.

To tie it all up, her final scene in that episode offers some more moments that again, are very in line with her backstory. We see how she treats relationships as transactionals: she pays ten grand to the Winchesters for saving her life, like she paid with her soul. Dean, again, draws attention to her likely messed up past by calling her damaged, and she replies that “takes one to know one”. Terrible childhood, ammirite. The show wasn’t been subtle here: it’s telling us Bela has a terrible past, like the Winchesters do, but of a different kind that has resulted in a different kind of person. So yeah, I think all the facts were hinted at back in 3x06.

We could go even futher back and point out 3x03, Bela’s introduction. One of the very first things she says in the show, during her first face to face with Dean (a character that just condemned his soul to Hell), is “We’re all going to Hell, Dean. Might as well enjoy the ride”. Sure, it could be an incredibly fortuitous coincidence; as a writer, I’ve had those and they’re damn great. But it seems VERY lucky, and more likely to be a case of the kind premeditated, well-placed foreshadowing that Kripke excels at.

So, okay. I’ve established why I think Bela’s backstory wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. But why is there a notable narrative in fandom that it IS?

First thing first, I want to get something out of the way: you don’t have to like it even if it was planned ahead. I understand it’s a very thorny subject, and to make matters worse, it’s inherently tied to her death. You might even be fine with the what, but not with how it was dealt with (although personally, I appreciate that neither the abuse nor her death were shown onscreen. In fact, the worse violence we see Bela on the receiving end of in her run is Dean’s threats and manhandling, which seems like a very purposeful choice ngl. Even Gordon freaking Walker was gentler lmao).

But I do disagree with some extended fandom opinions on the topic, and I guess that’s what the post is about. For one, I don’t see how the show “condemned” or morally judged Bela in this scenario. If anything, they clearly wanted to make her sympathetic, AND they showed Dean as being in the wrong by robbing him of information. Dean’s opinion on Bela couldn’t count for shit, for once, because he didn’t have the full picture; because Bela had deemed him UNWORTHY of the full picture, and thus anything he had to say on her couldn’t be taken at face value (except this is Supernatural, so I guess this was a little too much to ask of some people?). I think saying that just because Bela died and went to Hell as a consequence of her deal, IN THE SAME SEASON the same happened to our co-lead, because the writers deemed her evil and irredeemable is simplistic at best, and the audience projecting their own feelings (or being unable to see past Dean’s) onto the writing.

All that said, to go back to the initial point of all of this xD: WHY does fandom seem to insist on viewing this narrative choice as some cheap last minute addition?

There might not be one explanation that fits all, but I have a few ideas. One is that, if this wasn’t planned for and hinted at from early on, some people might feel as if this “absolves” them of their previous (and disgustingly hateful and misoginistic) reactions to Bela. Others will see this as absolving Dean, and maybe even Sam to a lesser extent, for not helping her and for being callous towards her; if her tragic backstory was this artificial, rushed choice made by Those Writers, then Dean wasn’t responsible for reprehensible attitudes towards someone who deserved his compassion (and it can’t be denied that this fandom loves absolving Dean of responsibility lmao). And a lot people are probably only repeating what they've heard from others as the accepted narrative, especially those that didn't even watch all of s3 if at all (Castiel is my fave too, but seriously, s1-3 are worth it).

It’s like they’re creating this imaginary separation between Bela pre-reveal, and Bela post-reveal, to make the situation easier to themselves. See, Bela pre-reveal was this annoying bitch who inconvenienced and embarrassed our leads (not to mention dared have chemistry with them), and thus deserved to be punished for it; or, if we’re going with more modern fandom sensibilities, she can be made to fit into the shallow #GirlBoss mold, with a side of “Secretly A Lesbian And Therefore Not A Romantic Threat” flavour -the current preferred method to make controversial female characters more palatable.

The reveal throws a wrench into this narrative. “Bitch who deserves her comeuppance” is a hard sell when you’re talking about a character who survived csa. And a shallow #GirlBoss reading doesn’t work if you have to acknowledge that Bela was one of, if not the most tragic characters in the entire run of Supernatural.

She spent over half her life at the mercy of her abuser(s), hurt by those who should’ve loved her and protected her most. The rest of her life was extremely lonely, with seemingly only a cat as company, and a surface-level freedom that hid under the sentence that loomed over her head. She died without a single friend, or a simple show of kindness and compassion, without anyone bothering to fight for her. And then she ended up tortured for who knows how long until she became one of her torturers.

All of that is extremely difficult to digest. And when things are hard to swallow, people do as people do, and they try to simplify them. So, sure. Bela’s reveal wasn’t ever hinted at, it’s completely removed from her character and the person we met, and is not even worth trying to fit into the narrative. Sounds easy.

#talking to the void #my thoughts #spn thoughts #supernatural #bela talbot #bitter lau tag #fandom nonsense #spn 3x15 #spn 3x06 #spn s3

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wonda-cat · 3 years

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Some Thoughts on Tommy’s most recent stream (4/29)

(For the record, this isn’t going to be like my other formal analyses. I’m genuinely just ranting here, possibly unedited too. I’m only referring to the characters, unless stated otherwise.

Also obvious warning, this will be fairly negative/critical of the DSMP’s writing, so scroll past if that might bother you. I tend to criticize the media I love, so this is just par for the course in my case.)

Let’s start off with—

The Things I Liked

All of the comedy at the beginning of the stream was wonderful. Ghostbur was incredibly endearing and entertaining as usual, as well as the moments between bench trio. Tommy’s change of plans made sense and the entire journey through the prison was tense and fun to watch. As well as the moment Tommy got caught (it was inevitable.)

It goes without stating, but cc!Wilbur and cc!Tommy’s acting was wonderful—they knocked it out of the park. I liked the little moments of Tommy calming Ghostbur down as Sam screamed at him. I also loved Wilbur's speech about his time in the afterlife when bench trio found him.

As well as the moment with Wilbur admiring the sky and calling it ‘his sunrise.’ I’m also glad that the afterlife was explained to be caused by the Revival Book’s existence and not some general eternal torture every character will be sentenced to regardless of anything they did in life.

But, sadly, that’s about where I stop and have to go into what I didn’t like as much, which is—

Everything Else

I’ll be talking about my major gripes with this particular stream in later bullet points down the line, but for now I’ll bring up the little things that annoyed me. This is all basically nit-picking and isn’t as awful or badly written as some of the others I’ll be discussing later.

First off, Why is Ranboo There? In the stream before this one, Tommy had Tubbo promise to not tell anyone else about their plan. Did he just decide to tell Ranboo anyway? Why? What was the point of asking him to keep it secret if it didn’t matter?

Adding to this, Tubbo and Ranboo were rather unnecessary for any of the other scenes that took place. They didn’t have any meaningful conversations with Tommy besides Ranboo asking why he was dreading Wilbur’s revival so much, as well as Wilbur’s comments to Tubbo about him being president. But other than that they have little to no notable speaking lines.

They don’t Do Anything? Sure, they’re nice to have present so Tommy can vent to someone else and find comfort but, in the end, Ranboo was oddly angry and accusatory with Tommy and Tubbo was practically absent from the scene. The impression I got from Tommy and Tubbo’s conversation in the previous stream implied that Tubbo would be serving a larger role as a distraction, but I guess they changed gears or something?

Then we have Ghostbur’s involvement, which, yeah, makes sense. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo are not allowed inside the prison, so it’s best to find someone else who can get in without suspicion. But my first assumption, upon seeing Ghostbur with the group was, “Oh, he’s gonna go in there and Dream’s gonna use him to revive Wilbur. That’s the only reason why Ghostbur is here and not anyone else, who would also be willing to kill Dream. It’s not like they’re in short supply right now.”

And I ended up being right, which only frustrated me more. I wanted something unexpected. Something new. Something interesting. Yet, I got the most predictable outcome instead—Tommy fails, Wilbur is revived.

Next, we have another big serving of ‘Tommy gets blamed for things he has no control over’ part 241. I am so, so sick of characters getting unreasonably mad at and blaming Tommy for anything and everything. It’s not new, it’s not interesting, it’s not fun. It’s just miserable.

It is,, awful. And it’s highkey frustrating. I refuse to sit through another arc of Tommy being endlessly hurt and blamed for stuff he didn’t do or cannot control. Pick a new event in the plot.

Try something out of left field. Do something, anything different to this. I’m begging you.

Now, we get into the major writing pitfalls and shortcomings. Starting with—

We Need to Talk About Sam

I have no idea what is going on with Sam’s character right now. It is so genuinely confusing. I have no clue why Sam reacted the way he did to Tommy because it just doesn’t make any sense. Sam’s entire inner conflict is about him trying to cultivate and protect his humanity and morality while upkeeping a strict, closed-off demeanor.

He follows the rules, even if it hurts the people he loves. Even if these codes force him into a position to be unethical. He feels it is his responsibility should anything go wrong or if Dream escapes, because it puts others in danger.

His strict approach got Tommy killed, and it also took a life and an arm from Ponk. Both of these people are precious to him. So why on earth would he threaten to kill Tommy when, in their last interaction, he was glad he was alive—after he promised to never let something like that happen again?

He respected Tommy’s wishes to stay away from him, and rather politely too. Why would he then threaten to kill him just after weeks of saying Tommy’s death was his biggest regret? That’s not even touching on Sam saying, “This is why I let you die,” as well as blaming Tommy for something that was directly a result of his own refusal to act.

Why didn’t he have Ghostbur also hitch a ride on the same platform with Tommy? Why did he even let Ghostbur into the prison in the first place if he:

A.) Told Ranboo he wasn’t going to let anyone in there after what happened to Tommy.

B.) Also wouldn’t let people in lest they find out about Quackity’s plan.

C.) Couldn’t even kill Ghostbur because he’s incorporeal and thus cannot fully upkeep the contracts he is signing.

There’s also the issue of Sam breaking the rules he abides by when he decided to not kill Tommy after he snuck into the prison, despite it being in the contract. Why is it different now? He went against his own protocol but was also following it by refusing to let Ghostbur come back to the other platform?

Why does Sam refuse to listen to Tommy? Their argument is mind-numbingly ridiculous. Sam refuses to hurt Dream, despite him only being alive because Sam claimed Tommy wanted him alive.

But now Tommy is there, begging Sam to let him kill Dream, and Sam just goes, “No. We’re not killing Dream.” Fucking why??? Sam! You said you wanted to kill Dream at least four times by now! Maybe more!

You were on your way to do it with Quackity and the only thing that stopped you was your promise to Tommy. But now Tommy’s here, telling you to kill Dream and you fucking won’t???? I am absolutely baffled.

No matter how you spin it, it makes no fucking sense. However, if I tried,,, I could possibly come up with a reason or two. Maybe Dream is blackmailing him. Maybe Quackity is forcing him to keep Dream alive until he can get the info he needs (even though,,, why would he trust Quackity over Tommy, who he’s outwardly stated he trusts just as much, if not more?)

It feels like these plots are dancing around each other, trying to keep up this faux sense of conflict that doesn’t exist. But, here’s the thing, contrived conflict is never compelling. I can’t overstate it enough.

Dream’s Plan is Complete Nonsense

The method to revive Wilbur makes Dream seem even more short-sighted than I remember commenting on, during the stream where Tommy was brought back to life. He told Tommy that his plan was to test the book to see if it worked (which, okay fine, I can buy this.) But then he says all along he was planning to revive Wilbur in order to break out of prison, which is ???? This is baffling if he needed Ghostbur in order to pull this off.

Which,,, I can’t even begin to explain how ridiculous it is that Dream’s entire plan hitched on not only the book working on people to begin with (which he tested on Tommy,,, for some reason, even though he would’ve lost his ‘favorite toy’ if he fucked it up. Which,, why even take that chance in the first place? there are other visitors he could’ve tried this with, surely. Like Sapnap and Bad,,) and it also relied on Ghostbur voluntarily going into the prison just to visit Dream?? And if he didn’t need Ghostbur after all, then why didn’t he bring Wilbur back weeks ago?

That’s not even getting into the issue of Dream assuming that Wilbur, once brought back, would:

A.) Want to be alive in the first place.

B.) Actually be willing to help Dream, instead of telling him to fuck off.

C.) Be even slightly capable of helping him at all when he has no allies, no PVP skill, no weapons, no armor, and no knowledge of the prison or its innerworkings.

Why are the current DSMP writers so committed to making me think Dream is a fucking idiot? I don’t enjoy this. I used to like his character and think he was smart. Stop.

ALSO, why did Tommy or Tubbo or Ranboo not think of the possibility that Ghostbur could very well be necessary to revive Wilbur? Why did that not cross any of their minds? It was the first thing I thought of when I saw him.

Another big thing that irks me is Tommy and Sam saying they saw Dream physically holding the Revival Book, which,,, how? Why? Dream said in previous streams that he burned the book and that was entirely the thing that kept him from being killed outright. If there was a book still in existence, did he hide it somehow?

How did Quackity not find it? Why did Sam not take it from him when he was first arrested?? What?

Also how the fuck did Dream kill a ghost?? They’re incorporeal? How does he not need the body to perform necromancy? That seems almost redundant.

Also it took a matter of seconds to perform? It took,,, ?? nothing but words and sheer willpower to bring someone back to life? Why does it seem so easy? My mans just,, uses his vibes to bring people back from the dead???

Unless the book has instructions regarding that or has a proportional price in order to use, then I’d be more forgiving. But I’m guessing it doesn’t have too steep a cost if Dream could offer Tommy immortality despite that. But I’m sure we’ll get more information on this once Quackity (inevitably) gets his hands on the book. Hopefully…

Which brings me to my last point—

Wilbur’s Revival (Derogatory)

Since the Revival Book was introduced, I have been actively dreading Wilbur being revived. It is the most predictable, low-hanging fruit of a plotline I could possibly conceive of. I understand that he’s a fan-favorite with a large audience (I love Wilbur more than you’d expect. cc!Wilbur is actually the reason I got into the DSMP in the first place), but there are other characters who could be developed more—utilized more.

Unpopular opinion, I know, but I am just so incredibly unenthused about this plot development. In fact, I’d almost go so far as to say hate it.

The Revival Book in and of itself is my least favorite thing the DSMP has ever introduced. It is a lack of consequences simplified. It’s also a lack of commitment to those mortal consequences.

It is a ‘get out of jail free’ card for when they kill off a character and don’t want to deal with the hole that character will leave behind. Or a way to work around the reason they shouldn’t kill Dream on the spot.

With Wilbur back again, I no longer feel compelled by his arc the way I used to. There is nothing to really leave a lasting impact anymore. Of course, there was a cater where L’Manburg once stood, but that was dug even deeper later on. You can’t make the death of a friend, of a loved one, worse than it is. It is death.

The thing I found extremely interesting about Wilbur’s death is the way the other characters portrayed loss. It has consistently been the thing that was most comforting to me, oddly enough. When people die, there will always be loose ends.

There will be holes left behind and things left unsaid. An unfulfilled promise. A forgotten relationship. A hollow memory.

What I always found compelling was the way Tommy and Fundy and Niki took this mutual loss and had to live with it. How they had to come to terms with the fact that Wilbur was gone and he wasn’t coming back. That they had to make peace with his memory, his legacy, and their connection to him.

That they’d miss him and love him or hate him and try to forget him. It is a tragedy that someone like Wilbur wanted to die for so long, and in the end, he did. Because in reality, the people you love will die.

There may be someone in your life that leaves you behind and all you’re left with is the broken pieces. And it is how these characters move on that brings me bittersweet company as someone who’s lost a lot of people. There is nothing more irritating than a story going back on its establishments—to have their cake and eat it too.

All I want is the bare minimum—a story with narrative stakes and consequences.

The only way I could ever see myself enjoying this plot development is if Wilbur has a redemption arc and attempts to make amends with Tommy, Fundy, Niki, and Eret. OR if he aids in Dream’s downfall in some way and enjoys the simple realities of life and wants to live for the sake of living. I’d find that at least new and somewhat interesting.

But if he’s just here to be a moustache toiling villain (or somehow worse than after his previous downward spiral), when the market is already so deeply oversaturated with antagonists, then I will probably drop the series altogether.

Hopefully it doesn’t come to that because I love the Dream SMP and I want to keep loving it for as long as I can.

I will hold onto more reasons to stay, so long as they keep giving them to me.

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