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#but anyway i try not to wank because this show is ridiculous
thekaijudude · 1 year
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Naga Ghidorah Zarla (after using her Alpha Call) vs 10 Godzilla Earths. Who wins?
Also, for reference, the Titan-Class Kaiju I mentioned are all basically just more powerful versions of Showa Universe Ultra Kaiju that are styled after the Monsterverse’s Titans.
Anyway, as always, I’ve sent you Naga Ghidorah Zarla’s abilities in DMs.
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Oh shi, this might be out of my field of expertise cause I didnt even bother watching City on the Edge of Battle and Planet Eater and only watched the first because I rmb that I felt so scammed that there wasnt any actual MG in the 2nd movie that I just didnt care about watching the rest of the trilogy in its entirety lmao (tho I did saw the fight scenes)
Tho since u specifically brought up Mebius PB for powerscaling purposes, Id urge you to be rather careful with using him for any sort of powerscaling. Cause in the only 2 instances we saw this fusion in canon, his demonstration isnt actually representative of his actual power level as it isnt a “pure” duo fusion as its amped by also fusing with the 5 other Crew GUYS members, giving a pretty ridiculous amp.
Cause even if we assume that Alien Empera has not grown in power since 30 000 years ago when he basically one-shot both Ken and Belial (whom were both ~130 000 years old at the time) using the same calculation, and essentially lowballing Alien Empera to 130 000 yo Ken + Belial, this gives Empera’s power level to be at least 2x10^36 NG, and rmb, this is a LOWBALL.
Thus, this means that PB is amped by 1.33x10^34 times since his base is just at 150 NG. (Ye im also accouting for the Specium Redoublizer here because ive seen people still include as part of PB's "feats" even tho they shouldnt, but it still dosent matter in this case since in the final battle of Mebius, everyone was literally wanked up to kingdom come)
So, I’m just gonna go ahead and assume that you’re referring PB base, at 150 NG cause otherwise you’re essentially asking whether something can essentially beat a 34-way ultra fusion, which for all intents and purposes, unless its the Legendary Ultras/Absolutian Lord/Reiblood himself etc, I’d say that no one can at this point. 
But otherwise, I think your Ghidorah’s abilities are still far too broad and too ambiguous. Lets just run over why with Alpha Call first. When you elaborated that the “Titan-Class Kaiju I mentioned are all basically just more powerful versions of Showa Universe Ultra Kaiju”, thats a pretty broad term yo. 
Firstly, you’re gonna have to be more specific cause the kaiju powerscaling in the Showa Era is still pretty broad. Like we have your standard Tier 2 kaiju like Gomora, Red King etc, which gets one shot by choju in Ace, which in turn, also gets one shot by kaiju shown in literally episode 1 of Taro. So where exactly are you referring to in the Showa Era kaiju scale?
And secondly, how much stronger compared to the actual Showa kaiju? Cause this would help to scale Godzilla Earth.
Since iirc, Godzilla Earth back in 2030 (when hes still around 50m), was already doing a Final Wars with the present earthian kaiju, which puts him at a reasonable choju level. But him awakening and causing kaiju on the same continent (sorta) to flee is also reminiscent to beings like Maga Tano-Orochi, Greeza etc but in their case, it was apparently a worldwide event. So, by that logic, would Godzilla Earth (50m) threat level is somewhere between a choju (Tier 2-3) to essentially a Tier 4 kaiju, which is still a pretty broad estimate, so I’m gonna try and narrow it further. 
As in the same comparison, you could argue that Earth (50m) was more of a threat than Ultroid Zero because the 5 standard kaiju that showed up still had the balls to try and destroy it before it inevitably became Destrudos. But idk how comfortable I’d feel if I try to classify Earth (50m) higher than a D4 Ray user that literally is able to rip apart a local AOE fabric of space-time, the damage of which would essentially spread. But the Zestium Ray from DRC was able to repair the damage (cant compare the D4 Ray launched by Destudos cause we wont have a fair comparison since DRC didnt do the same with him). So, can we somewhat narrow the estimate to from Tier 2 kaiju to a Super form of a NGH?
But then again, now that I think about it, Ultroid Zero was basically doing the same as Earth (50m) as even without using the D4 Ray, he was literally hunting down 7 standard kaiju which was gonna be used as components for Destrudos.
So at the end of all that, I’d say Earth (50m) would be around a choju level kaiju alr. Going from this base level, a single Godzilla Earth (300m) would easily obliterate standard Tier 2 kaiju.
Tho, if I were to assume that the summoned kaiju would be all be choju level (since you say they’re stronger), you’re essentially asking whether 10 Godzilla Earths (300m) can take on 70 chojus at once. Which tbh shouldnt even be a difficult fight even for a 1v70 imo due to the sheer potency of his physical capabilities alone (Tail Shockwaves that we saw cut through even solid rock formations), not to mention his EM shield + “Burning state” which is literally planet buster. 
So in the end, the summoned 70 kaiju wouldnt even really make a difference in the grand scheme of things
(Also note that when im referring to choju level, im specifically talking about their physical characteristics like power output, strength and durability, not their hax like most of them have like time travelling, light speed based attacks etc)
But the above note is brings up another point of contention due to the ambiguity for Zarla because of your unclarified “stronger than Showa Era kaiju” powerscaling. Because if Zarla can outright mimic the choju or other kaiju’s hax abilities like time travelling etc, then its sort of already an easy win for her?
And I suppose that naturally also brings up the question of which kaijus specifically are gonna show up? It ranges anywhere from Tier 1 kaiju like simply giant animals all the way to kaijus beyond even chojus which a HUGE assortment of abilities, hax or otherwise.
Because there’s so many issues and ambiguity for Alpha Call, its more possible to examine just Zarla (without Alpha Call) against 10 Godzilla Earths.
Which tbh, seems like an overkill.
Because assuming Zarla dosent have an anchor (essentially plot armor) like the one we saw in the movie, didnt Void Ghidorah got clowned on severely? Like iirc a single tail swipe was already able to decapitate one of his heads, and Earth was able to rip off another using his bare hands. And I dont think even a standard Mebium Knight Shoot can compare to a planet buster Red Spiral Atomic Breath.
Tbh 1v1 might already be overkill since the Ghidorah was only ever a threat because he had the anchor? And since you didnt specify it being present with Zarla, nor any other durability changes compared to Void, wouldnt the battle end up pretty much the same???
But if we recall that her version of gravity beams are approximately around Mebium Knight Shoot, then it becomes sorta more competitive.
Recall that 1 NG is enough to completely one shot a Tier 2 fresh kaiju. And iirc, Earth’s EM shield and his base durability dosent really scale with his other prowess (Like Earth was severely wounded by the onslaught from MG city as well as being pierced by harpoons), so he’s essentially glass cannon in base. So I think its perfectly reasonable to assume that his durability isnt gonna stand against a gravity beam that is 150x stronger than an NGH’s finisher. Not to mention from 3 heads.
Unless he goes burning from the get go. But I dont believe we have seen the limits of his durability in this state. But considering that Void was also essentially a glass cannon without the anchor, its essentially down to the cliche glass cannon vs glass cannon battle result
It all falls back to who fires the first shot. Thats for 1v1 Zarla vs Earth (base)
And as said for burning state, while I can definitely agree that his durability has increased, we just dont know by how much exactly. And Zarla having up to a 150x multiplier is far too big of a margin to give the benefit of the doubt to Burning Earth’s durability being able to take the hit. So imo, its still the same glass cannon vs glass cannon matchup with the same result
Thanks for the question!
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bloodwritesfic · 1 year
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phynali · 4 years
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SPN 15x10 Heroes’ Journey
So I kind of thought people were maybe overreacting with the hate for SPN episode 15x10 but no - it was That Bad. 
I really, really, wanted to like this episode. The actors talked about how fun it was in the pre-season press tour. There was excitement about it. I was kind of expecting another The French Mistake or Scooby-Doo type episode - canon but mostly taking the piss, not consequential to the overall plot, incredibly self-aware.
And I think it tried to be a lot of those things, but failed so utterly. And I want to a) unpack a bit of why, and b) write some fix-it interpretation that you can take or leave but that I’m gonna headcanon for my own sanity.
First, here are so many problems with this episode in what it implies about the canon and the characters.  
It says that they haven’t ever been normal. Okay, sure, I’m there. God gave them a bit of Plot Armour because they’re his favourites.  They’ve come back from the dead like a dozen times, I’ll buy that.
But then - 
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Then it says that they’ve never got parking tickets, that they don’t get colds, cavities? Okaaaaay, so God gave them some extra luck and fortitude. Alright.
But then they can’t pick locks? Fight monsters? The engine fails when we know Dean has built it from the ground up, loves it obsessively, and obsesses over its maintenance? Sam can’t fucking boil pasta? Things they’ve done their entire lives are suddenly beyond them, as if they never learned nor developed a skill nor have common sense.
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What the fuck?
It is absolute bullshit if taken at face-value but okay IF you set aside the canon hand-fed interpretation of what’s going on. Garth tells them that they’re suddenly experiencing ‘normal person problems’ because they are no longer the ‘heroes’.
Suddenly losing a bit of fortitude and luck doesn’t make you lose skills you’ve developed over decades or make you suddenly unable to boil water. So either we have to reject the episode, or reject the false interpretation sent our way. I choose the latter.
Think about it (let me convince you to appease my own frustration) - Chuck is a liar. We know this. Chuck is also our narrator, in canon and meta-textually. 
We know we have an unreliable narrator.
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Is it not reasonable to suggest that Chuck didn’t “make them normal” or “take away their special Hero Status” and have Dean suddenly lactose-intolerant, ridden with cavities (okay that part is realistic but to suddenly feel them now?), have it so Sam, who got a full ride to Stanford University - cannot boil water and grabs hot pots with his bare hands. 
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Actually for that last bit - if you’ve worked in kitchen for a long time or done a large amount of cooking, the sensitivity in your hands decreases a lot. Sam might actually be able to grab things straight out of the oven for short periods of time, or grab pots by the handles off the stove without feeling the burn the way someone like me might. My partner can do shit like that, though normally at least uses a tea towel for things straight out of the oven, but i’ve seen him do it. So Sam might do that typically and that just lends itself to my theory that - 
Chuck is fucking with them.
Chuck didn’t “make them normal” - he sent a bunch of annoying inconveniences their way to slow them down, and to undermine their confidence in their skills. Just enough that they think it’s them and not Him. That they think it’s their shine worn off, their luck run dry, their skills as never being as good as they thought - just enough hits to keep coming and uncomfortable facts that fit close enough to their lives to make them Doubt.
He is God, what does he do but deal in Faith and Doubt?
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(He doesn’t like to be questioned. He knows them inside and out, knows everything about everything - including how to sew discord).
He took away their credit card that Charlie had hacked for them so they can’t move around as quick and easy, switched the flip on some of their biology (lactose intolerance, clumsiness, a head cold) to slow them down, fucked them up a bit in terms of the Impala (parking tickets, spark plugs) to stall them up. 
Not bad luck, not a loss of Plot Armour - Chuck is playing with the narrative. He wanted Sam to give up hope in the previous episode, and now he wants to weedle at that weakness. He wants them inconvenienced and down on themselves, knows that they excel when they’re faced with violence and a Big Bad but it’s like Lilith and her ‘death by a thousand cuts’. He knows it will be easier to get under their skin with a series of minor vexations that has them questioning themselves.
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They are cursed. Dean is right. Cursed with God’s Wrath - which in this case looks a bit more like God’s No Good, Super Annoying Goddamn Day(s), but y’know. Whatever.
And then there’s the skills - the inability to pick locks, to fight monsters. As if a lifetime of practice and training disappears when Plot Armour does. I cannot suspend my disbelief to accept that being Normal means having no learned skills.
So although the narrative (the narrator, Chuck, God Who Art Unreliable) is telling us that they only have these skills because He wanted them to.
We must reject that interpretation of the canon. 
(Just like I wish Sam and Dean had rejected that misinterpretation of their lives.) 
God waved his hand and took away skills they’d need in a pinch. He didn’t fuck with their personalities because he likes to watch too much, but he wanted to see what they’d do if he (re)set their skills to zero: if they would learn again, if they would realize how fucked they were, make bad decisions to regain those abilities, drink blood or take on Angels or anything else vile so they might kill each other. He’s trying to get his story back on track, and lying to the audience (which now, oddly, includes the protagonists) is small change next to forcing the plot the way he wants to go.
Literally, Chuck is retconning the canon because he’s written himself into a corner, and he’s jealous of his own protagonists.
(Oddly - I think he’s kind of lying to himself too. Taking all this away and convincing himself that he gave it to them all in the first place, fucking with coincidence because these things do happen and messing with their biology because other people do have these sorts of issues. He takes all the credit for their success and therefore convinces himself it’s okay to change and take away whatever he wants, to manipulate luck and chance because hey - he’s God. They are his Creation, and therefore this is All Him, really.)
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Only bad writers force the plot to go where they want irrespective of what it means about the characterization and being hard left-turn OOC. Chuck is a bad writer. We know this. Without Metatron as his editor he kind of writes complete crap? Even Becky and her purple prose had multiple critiques of his writing throughout the seasons.
So tl;dr - 
The Heroes’ Journey isn’t about Sam and Dean losing the ‘plot armour’ and bonus to skills that Chuck had given them to make them badasses with no Normal Person Problems. 
Instead, it’s an (undoubtedly unintentional from the writers and therefore ironic) exercise in unreliable narration where the audience is told the heroes are only special because someone else made them so. The creator of the in-canon narrative is retconning his own canon and trying to tell the reader it was this way all along, underneath plot armour. 
He’s also doing this because as a self-insert OC into his own story, and now the antagonist of the story who fails to realize he’s made himself the bad guy, he’s buying time, aiming to slow them down and trying to cut away at their confidence and hope.
And he succeeds - and backfires. He chips away at them only enough to frustrate, to convince them that they Are and Must Be special in order to do what needs doing. They know that they have ever lacked in heroism, and the narrator fails to convince the audience that normalcy and heroism do not go hand in hand - in part because God’s favourite or not, they aren’t the only heroes in this story.
(Thanks Garth)
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PS - Building from here into 15x11, if we accept this explanation but also know they do get their “mojo” (luck) back thanks to a  Goddess, we can extrapolate that although she maybe can’t undo the changes that Chuck’s thrown their way, some of what he’s doing is based on coincidence (luck), and they should be ‘lucky’ enough to be able to access their skills despite having Chuck’s bullshit placed on them (or be lucky enough to have it removed entirely?). Luck seems a shorthand term here for so much more, something more like the suppressor/bullshit Chuck’s using on them, so I take it to mean that she basically reset the balance.
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chippedaxe · 3 years
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yessss for karl?! omg yess please pleas please can you write a dom step sis! reader ruining innocent stepbro! karl!!
like she teases him and he just isn’t experienced at all and she just fucking destroys him, wanking him until the sensitive little bunny is crying and begging to stop from overstimulation
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Title: Silly Boy
Warnings: !TW: STEPCEST!, NSFW (Minors DNI), cursing, corruption ig, blackmail, degrading, teasing, humiliation, penis degrading, small penis, overstimulation
Pronouns: She/her Afab
Synopsis: The reader dominates Karl and knocks him down a peg.
Word count: 2k
Note: If this type of content offends you in any way then please just ignore it, I have tons of other content on my page that isn't stepcest content and you're able to blockout any stepcest content by blocking the 'tw sepcest' or 'stepcest cw' tag <3
- This prolly isn't what u wanted but I thought of this and wanted to write it! also this hasn't been proofread and it hasn't been edited at all!
*Btw Veruca Salt is a spoiled kid that gets everything she wants, from Charlie and the chocolate factory.
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Your eyes glared down at the younger boy, towering over him to show dominance "S-sis, what're you doing?" Karl asked "Trying to scare you, is it working?" you leaned down and kept eye contact with the stammering boy "u-um not really.." he stuttered out "then why're you stuttering over your words? You're obviously intimidated." you placed your hands on your hips.
"Well why're you trying to intimidate me? I'm just trying to read this book!" he groaned "Because someone has to knock you down a peg, you think just because you're younger that you can get everything you want? Well not if I can help it!" you were furious by the boy.
"What're you on about? What've I done to you?" Karl asked worriedly "You've been asking for a whole lot this week, veruca salt!" you threw your arms in the air and started pacing around him and his chair "What? Like what?" Karl was utterly confused "You've been asking for non-stop rides to your friends houses, and you've been leaving your laundry around for mother to do!" you cross your arms.
"You're overreacting!" Karl complained "Oh I'm not done! You've also been taking money from mom's purse!" you called him out "What- how did you know about that??" Karl immediately became tense "Oh you look so stressed dear brother, just relax- don't worry... I'm not gonna tell her-" Karl sighed in relief "Oh thank god" and got cut off by you finishing your sentence "-If you promise to be a good brother and listen to what your stepsister says!" you finished.
"WHAT? No way! I'm telling mom and dad!" He began to stand up but you pushed him back down "Oh no no no, you're gonna tell them what? That you stole the $200 that mom presumed was stolen by a thief? You gonna explain that to her after she already called authorities and had someone sent to jail?" you spat venom at him.
"You're evil!" Karl shouted "Me? Evil? I'm not the thief here" you grinned mischievously "Although I could be- if you don't wanna have to do everything I say then just give me something precious you own" you held your hand out expectantly "What am I supposed to give you? My soul?" Karl questioned "If you can bare to part with it then yes" you gave a mean smile in response to his sarcasm.
"I have literally nothing!" Karl exclaimed "You have your phone" you suggested "Dad would kill me if he found out I'd given it away!" He shouted "he'd kill you if he found out about that money too" you reminded him "I- I could give you... I'll let you date one of my friends!" Karl smiled nervously as he hoped you'd agree "What friends? You're a nerd, no one would want to be friends with you" snickered.
"S-Sapnap! He's strong, he loves animals, he has big muscles!" Karl said "The brute with dark hair? He's cute but not my type" you yawned "U-m.. Quackity?" a bead of sweat dropped down his face "He's super cool, really funny!" Karl was starting to worry as he was already running out of friends to pair you with "No.. My type is nerdy boys that I can dominate, ones that get nervous a lot and stutter over their sentences" you hinted.
"Oh- like Wilbur? I'm not really his friend but I can try something!!" Karl wasn't getting the hint "No, I was thinking more specifically towards someone like you." you finally told him "M-me? But I'm your brother!" Karl was in disbelief "Step-brother. And I don't really like you, I just think that you're pitiful and if you're gonna be selling someone's body to me in exchange to keep your secrets safe than it may as well be yours." you explained.
"But- Well- I've never done that before!" he put his hands up defensively "Well obviously, who would want to touch a greasy nerd like you?" you sighed. "Well- No, that's wrong!" he shook his head "Well I'm not gonna make you, just give me something else then and I'll be on my way" you told him. Karl looked down at his feet for a moment as he mulled over what was happening and what decision he was gonna make.
Karl lifted his head and made eye contact with you "Okay." he replied "Okay what? Okay you're gonna give me something?" you asked "No- I mean- okay I'm gonna give you my body" he mumbled quietly "Gonna need to speak up, can't hear you over the sound of our parents crying over having such a disappointing child" you ridiculed him.
"I'll give you my body, damnit!" he yelled "hey- quiet down, our parents are only just down stairs!" you made him shut up. "Whatever" he leaned back in his chair and slumped down "Karl. You need to give me your full consent, you can't just go 'yea whatever' and expect me to be fine with that!" you furrowed your eyebrows "Why?? What- do you need me to beg you for it?!" he was getting aggravated.
"Actually yes, I do" you decided to torment him a little bit "Big sis, please please please fuck this desperate loser" he put his hands together to make a praying gesture as he mocked you "That's more like it, runt." you grabbed his chin and forced him to face you "We can stop at any time, if you choose not to speak up then that'll be your fault" you made sure he was fully aware that he had a say even though he wasn't in control.
"Thanks. Now- how do we?" Karl was now confused on what you were gonna do, and he was having some type of delusion that he was gonna be the one in charge dominating you. "I think I'm just gonna have some fun by jerking you off, is that okay bunny?" you teased "W-what do you mean you're gonna jerk me off?" Karl asked nervously "I'm gonna stroke your dick, never done that before?" you bullied him.
"N-no, never even thought about it.." his face became red and flushed, you slowly slid onto his lap and straddled his leg "No? You haven't? Are you lying to your big sister? That's not very nice you know, Mom always told me that you shouldn't lie (Unless it's to your dad) " Karl glanced away from you and tried to hide his face "Aw you can tell me the truth, I'm a good listener after all!" you encouraged him "I haven't.." he persisted.
"Well then let me introduce you to the pleasure that is being jerked off, slide your pants down" you instructed "What? Do I have to.." he was clearly embarrassed "No. I guess I could just palm you through your pants" you shrugged. Karl sighed in relief and let out a small breath, tilting his head back in the chair and waiting for you to do what you wanted.
Your hand dipped between his legs, your palm rubbing his growing bulge "H-Hey that feels weird" he told you "So what? You want me to stop?" he shut his mouth, encouraging you to keep palming him. "This would feel a lot better if you let your cock free, instead your trapping it in your tight pants and strangling it.." you frowned "F-fine.." Karl blushed as he slowly pulled his pants down.
You watched in delight as he released his penis "Oh is this what you were worried about?" you stared down at it "O-Oh god-" Karl felt humiliated and went to put it away but you stopped him "It's cute.. I wouldn't expect a nerd's penis to be big anyways" you told him. Karl's little cock twitched at your words, moving slightly on its own "oh. my. god. You LIKE when I'm mean to you! That's why you never argue back! It all makes sense now.." Karl looked down to avert eye contact.
"That's perfect Karl, you love when I'm mean to you- and I love to make fun of you! Win Win!" you felt a small rush of excitement. Your hand wrapped around his cock which forced a choked out moan from him, his hands moving to cover his face "you're acting quite rude Karl. Look at your big sister when she's talking to you!" you ordered.
Karl slowly revealed his face, revealing how much pleasure he was having. "F-Feel's weird, let go!" he ushered you to let go of his penis, even though his body disagreed; his hips bucking up into your hand to help finish him off "Trust your big sister." you said as you continued to pump your hand around his cock. "Fuck! Fuck you!" Karl's whole body shuddered as he was having an orgasm, his penis twitching in your hand.
"Wow Karl, that was rude." you huffed and narrowed your eyes, your hand still lingering on his crotch "A-are you done now?" Karl panted as he was trying to catch his breath "Done? I've barely even started!" you laughed maniacally as you began to slowly stroke him again "Ah- no no no, that's too much!" Karl whined. "You want me to stop?" you asked him "Yes!" he exclaimed so you let go and pulled away "What?" Karl was confused and a bit upset "Hm? What is it?" you asked "You're just.. done?" he looked saddened.
"You told me to stop!" you explained "yeah but.. I didn't really mean it.." Karl's cheeks were dusted red "Well come back here then" you grabbed his hips and forced him back down onto his chair. Karl was already eager and bucking his hips up against you, your hand grabbed him again and started to jerk him off "Ah!- Ah-" Karl tried to keep quiet but couldn't help the escaped noises that came out.
You placed your free hand over his mouth to try and muffle his moans, his voice vibrating against your hand "You can never be quiet! Always have something to say, don't you?" you rolled your eyes at him. Karl clenched his eyes shut and tapped the chair repeatedly with his hand to let you know he was ready to cum again, you let him release his load yet again but you didn't remove your hand.
"A-Again?? I can only take so much.." Karl whimpered and whined "You're feeling this way already? But I've only just started!" You frowned "Well I guess I can give you a break now but there won't be any breaks later on when our parents go out to dinner." you stood up and got off him. "T-Thanks.." Karl huffed "For what?" you asked "Thanks for um- pleasuring me?" you scoffed and walked back to your room, ready to return at night time when you had Karl all to yourself.
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*guys lemme know if u want a part 2 bc I could certainly make one of the reader x karl at night time after their parents have left.
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emmyhem · 3 years
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everything you’re missing (c.t.h)
a/n: hi everybody, i’m back with another post. this is my first calum piece and i’m so excited to finally get it up. this is once again unedited, i’m way too tired rn. it’s also the second smut i’ve posted so that’s pretty exciting as well. yeah i don’t really have much to say right now because i’m literally exhausted, my classes are really kicking my ass. anyway i hope you all enjoy this bff!calum piece. feedback and comments are always appreciated. hope you all are doing well and are being safe. thank you - emmy <33
pairing: bff!calum hood x fem!reader
summary: a drunken text meant for your ex shows up on calum’s phone and leaves him questioning everything he’s missing out on with his best friend.
warning(s): talk of a previous bad relationship, y/n’s ex body shamed her, mentions of alcohol, insecurity, smut, cursing
word count: 4.7k
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You’ve decided that 3 glasses of wine is your happy medium, but even a sip into the 4th and there’s no telling what you’ll do. 
So, naturally you were finishing up your 5th glass on Friday night while angrily scrolling through your exes instagram when you got what seemed to be an incredible idea. It was simply too tempting not to, your mind was feeling hazy which made your confidence skyrocket, and you truly did just look good. 
A day of pampering had left you in a black floor length silk robe with nothing but your favorite deep cherry red lingerie set underneath. Your face was bare and glowing after a refreshing and illuminating face mask, and your lips were left glossy and plump from a new scrub. 
You had posed in front of the floor length mirror in your living room, giggling between snaps until you had taken the perfect shot. It was classy but provocative, the dressing gown slipping from your shoulders exposing the lace of your bra and a tasteful amount of cleavage. You had also left the bottom open, allowing a clear shot of your thighs and the curve of your ass from where you sat on your knees. 
With a mischievous glint in your eyes you selected the picture into a message, typing a cheeky, “take a good look at everything you’re missing”  and sending it off to your ex (or so you thought). 
But you really couldn’t be blamed for your mistake, Cam and Cal were far too similar for your drunk brain to decipher the difference. You also couldn’t be blamed for the fact that you dozed off on the couch immediately after sending it, before you even had a chance to recognize your humiliating mistake. 
You were awoken by the ringing of your phone at around 9:00 am, way too early for your liking. Before even registering who it was, you brought the phone to your ear and groaned a sleepy, “hello,” 
“At your door.” a voice you recognized as your best friend responded. 
“M’coming” you said, scooting off the couch. On your way to the door you registered that you were still scantily covered, the robe falling off of you as you walked. You clutched it around you as you swung the door open to a wide eyed, Calum Hood. 
“G’morning.” he smirked, looking you up and down. 
“Shh” you hushed, pulling him in by the arm. “Why in the world are you here so early?”
He lightly laughed while taking a seat at the kitchen table, eyes following you while you moped over to the fridge and pulled out two water bottles. 
“Well,” he sighed as you handed him one. “I got a very interesting text last night and I figured I just had to come over and see, y’know everything I was missing.” he spoke in a teasing tone as he gestured a hand down your body.
You tugged your eyebrows together in confusion. There was something familiar about what he was saying, but not familiar enough for you to put the pieces together. 
“What are you talking about?” you questioned bringing the water bottle to your lips. 
Calum shrugged his shoulders, a smirk still glued to his face as he took out his phone and began looking for something. After a few seconds he extended his arm to hand you his phone. You accepted it and glanced down absentmindedly as your body slumped against the counter.  
The second your eyes hit the screen it all came back to you, your mouth fell open and you straightened out, suddenly very awake, not to mention very mortified. 
Calum on the other hand was buzzing. Actually, he had been ever since his phone dinged last night awakening him from his sleep. Well, buzzing and extremely, extremely sexually frustrated. 
When he first opened your message and saw the picture that would now be making a regular appearance in his wet dreams, he had nearly choked on his own breath. He knew that it was most likely a drunken mistake, and while that slightly saddened him it didn’t stop his dick from plumping up at the sight, straining uncomfortably against his boxers. He seriously debated wanking to the tempting image but decided against it, thinking it would be a gross violation of your privacy since it wasn’t even meant for him. Oh how he wished it was. Unfortunately that meant he had been sporting an exceptionally sensitive halfie since then. 
“Oh my god.” you groaned, sitting the phone down on the counter and covering your eyes in humiliation. “Cal I’m soooo sorry, I was drunk, and overly confident, and I meant to send this to Cam and now I’m just, I’m sorry.” you reiterated. 
‘Hey, don’t apologize on my account.” he countered. “Plus, you should be thrilled you sent it to me and not that asshole, doesn’t deserve ya.” 
“I know, you’re right. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m mortified though. S’bit ridiculous, get a little alcohol in my system and I have a god complex all of a sudden” you rambled, running your hands through your hair nervously. 
Calum stood and pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head. 
“You think too much, y’know that?” he quipped. 
You turned your head, pressing a cheek against his sweater clad chest and mumbled, “Yea I’ve been known for that.” 
Calum softly chuckled at your words before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head and pulling apart. 
“S’really no big deal, y/n.” a teasing grin plastered on his face. “Besides I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”
“Calum!” you scolded, swatting a hand at his arm. 
He dodged your hit just in time and held his hands up in surrender before taking his seat again. 
“Why'd you let that dick bother you anyway? Y’know you’re way out of his league.” 
Your jaw clenched at the question, your mind wandering to every time you had come to Calum crying after your ex had done something to hurt you. Everytime he commented on your “stomach pudge” as he liked to call it, when you wore a tight dress to go out. Or when he would ask if you were really “that” hungry, even if you hadn’t eaten much at all. And each time you would feel absolutely wretched and end up sobbing in Calum’s arms, but refusing to tell him why you were so, so sad. 
“He texted me the other day y’know?” you muttered under your breath, while fiddling with the coffee machine. 
“Really? What’d he say?” Calum responded, watching your back with narrowed eyes. 
“Uh, he saw me the other night, when we were at that bar with the guys.” you said, shaky fingers pulling out a mug. 
“And?” he spoke flatly. 
“It’s stupid really,” you sniffled, willing your voice not to break. “He said I put on a few pounds, that he was glad he got out when he did.” your bottom lip traitorously jutted out as you turned to face him. 
“Fucking dick.” he hissed. 
Calum wasn’t necessarily proud of the violent images that flashed through his mind at the thought of that asshole finding yet another way to hurt you but, the sad little quiver of your lip allowed him to reason without a doubt that they were fair. 
Before you could even blink he was holding you again, arms impossibly tight around you. . 
“He’s wrong, y/n. Fuck, I don’t know how to even...he’s just so wrong.” he said softly, his hand rubbing your back reassuringly. 
“I know.” you whimpered, holding tears back. 
He pulled back enough to look you in the eyes, arms still firm around your waist. 
“No you don’t. It’s...It really fucking pisses me off that he makes you feel like this. It’s like-fuck you’re just like-” he moved his hands to cup your cheeks. “You really are gorgeous.” 
Your heart fluttered at his words, and your whole body felt warm as you stared at his big brown eyes. His words felt sincere, everything about him felt so sincere. 
“Thank you, Cal.” 
He pulled you back into his chest, “Really wish I could just, like hug away all his bullshit.” 
“M’used to it.” you mumbled. 
“You don’t deserve any of it.” 
“Yea, well what can you do.” you sighed, moving out of his embrace. 
Calum’s eyes were still glued to you as you stirred a spoonful of sugar in your coffee. 
“I hope you don’t let anything he says get to you.” 
You let out a breath of exhaustion. 
Confidence wasn’t something that you used to struggle with. I mean sure, there were spouts of insecurity here and there but you knew your worth, and you considered yourself pretty, hot even. That had all changed a few months into your latest relationship. First it was the backhanded compliments which quickly turned into passive comments, and then outright cruel insults. People really underestimate the toll their words take on others, especially when the person that’s making you feel so ugly and worthless, is one that you adore and who’s supposed to adore you right back, no matter what. 
“I try but, he can’t just be making it all up.” you were ashamed. When did you become the girl that lets a guy affect how she sees herself? That just wasn’t you. 
“He is. He’s insecure and a douche. He was probably trying to destroy your confidence to the point that you felt like you couldn’t leave him.” Calum assured. “But you’re way too strong for him, dumped his sorry ass anyway.” 
You smiled gratefully at his words, taking a seat next to him. 
“Yea, so strong I tried to send him half naked pictures for reassurance.” 
Calum shook his head, “I wish you could see how hot you are.” 
Your eyes widened at the compliment, your head dropping to avoid his stare as blood rushed to your cheeks. 
“I’d be happy to reassure you whenever you want.” he continued, bumping his knee against yours under the table. 
“Doesn’t count.” you dismissed, before sipping your coffee. “You're my best friend, you’re obligated to tell me I’m pretty.” 
“Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” he muttered back quietly, his expression dropping slightly. He hated when you deflected his compliments. All he ever wanted to do was make you feel good, and you made it very difficult for him when you blocked every swing he took at the wall of insecurity that Cam had built around you. He would kill Cam if he could. 
You let out an apologetic sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. 
“M’sorry, you’re right. I love you for that, the only thing keeping me sane.” 
Your heart squeezed as he hugged you back. 
Calum was perfect, he was sweet, and funny, and quite literally your favorite person on earth. Not to mention you had been hopelessly in love with him since practically the beginning of your friendship. But as his best friend you had heard over and over just how uninterested he was in a relationship. Everytime you would ask about his love life he would just respond, 
“I’m just not the boyfriend type, m’not cut out for it.” shrugging nonchalantly. 
Which you thought was laughable because anyone would be lucky to have him as a boyfriend, in fact sometimes you would let yourself pretend he was yours. 
Like,in a busy club with his hands on your hips, guiding you through the crowds. So close behind, you could feel each exhale on the back of your neck, as his eyes darted around the room to ensure there weren’t any potential threats to your safety, in the form of drunk overzealous flirts. Or after a night out when he got cuddly and clingy, and would find his way from the couch into your bed. You’d wake up with his cheek pressed against your chest and his arms snaked around your torso as he released soft breaths that caused goosebumps to rise on your exposed skin. You’d let yourself imagine that you had this every morning and that he would wake up any minute to smother your face in kisses and tell you he loved you. And of course, here he was again this morning being so thoughtful and kind and everything you wanted in a boyfriend. And here you were again swimming in his praises and physically having to restrain yourself from kissing him. 
Begrudgingly, you pulled away and stood up. 
“Gonna get changed.” you spoke. 
“I’m making us breakfast.” Calum called as you walked away. You hummed in response and slipped into your room. 
Once in the privacy of your own room you quickly pulled on a pair of leggings and a hoodie before scurrying to the bathroom sink and splashing cold water on your face in hopes of ridding yourself of any romantic thoughts towards your best friend.
Although you weren’t aware, Calum was doing the very same thing just a few feet away. Internally reminding himself repeatedly that it was never gonna happen with you. He wasn’t good enough to be anyone’s boyfriend, let alone yours. You didn’t want him that way and he could almost trick himself into believing that he was okay with that.
You hastily finished brushing your teeth before returning to the kitchen. You were greeted with the sight of Calum’s back, he stood over the toaster cutting an avocado and humming a song you didn’t recognize quietly to himself.  He looked over his shoulder as your footsteps approached. 
“Hungry?” he questioned. 
“You have no idea.” you affirmed, as he fixed a plate for you both. 
“Good. I was thinking we could watch something while we eat,” 
“Fine with me.” you responded, hoping he wouldn’t notice the distraction laced in your voice. Your focus had easily been stolen from the conversation to how easy it was to see his back muscles flex through the thin material of his jumper. 
But of course he did, it was Calum after all. 
“Y’alright?” he said, handing you a plate. 
“Uh, yep.” you rushed out. 
“Not still thinking about Cam, are you?” 
“No, not at all.” you answered honestly, walking to the couch, Calum trailing closely behind you. 
“Then what’s got you all flustered?” 
“You” you thought, taking a seat in the furthest corner. 
“I’m not flustered.” 
“Bullshit” he countered, sitting practically on top of you. 
You let out a huff, and motioned to the other  completely empty side of the couch. 
“Is there a reason we aren’t practicing personal space right now?” 
He laughed softly at your question and nuzzled closer into your side. 
“Yea, you’re all pouty, looks like you need a cuddle.” 
 “I’m really fine Cal.” you shoved him lightly but saw no results, he just scooched in even closer and bit into his toast. 
The two of you sat in silence while some newly released action movie played on your TV. Calum’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders keeping you tight to his side, and although you could’ve sworn that you had been in this exact same position hundreds of times, you felt as if this were the very first time. Every single one of your nerves were on fire and the warmth that had flooded your body was making you antsy. 
Feeling overwhelmed by your senses, you allowed your eyes to flutter close with a deep inhale. 
“You okay?” Calum whispered, dipping his head down slightly to reach your ear.
You opened your mouth to respond but didn’t trust your voice to protrude through your shaky exhales, settling for a subdued nod instead. 
“You sure?” his words were long and drawled out, despite your eyes being closed you knew his proximity from the feeling of his breath just behind your ear. 
Before you could speak up his hand secured itself just above your knee, and your muscles flexed involuntarily at the contact. 
“Relax, y/n” he continued, his thumb beginning to run repeatedly over a spot on your inner knee. 
Everything in your brain was screaming at you to excuse yourself, maybe even kick him out, anything to gain some space and hopefully some clarity from the cloud of sexual tension that was looming over the two of you and blurring boundaries at lightning speed. But you were essentially frozen in place, petrified that any movement would alert Calum to the way he was affecting you. 
Your head lolled back to rest on his forearm which was lying behind you on the couch and finally peeled your eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. 
He watched you from the corner of his eye, taking note of every rise and fall of your chest, every thick swallow of your throat. 
If there was one thing Calum was well versed in, it was his ability to read you, he liked to think he knew you better than anyone else in the world. He could tell exactly how you were feeling just by watching you, your face, your breathing and he was more than shocked when he started getting the feeling you were no longer upset but something far more appealing. 
Were you turned on? Right here in his presence? The thought made blood rush to his dick, which twitched in his pants when another breathy sigh passed your lips. 
“What’re you thinking about, love?” 
Everything in you urged you to answer honestly, just tell him the truth. “You, I’m thinking about you. I’m always thinking about you.” But you couldn’t do that, so instead you deflected. 
“What’re you thinking about?” you countered, meeting his eyes. 
Calum questioned his next words very carefully, debating whether or not he could recover if he was wrong about what you were feeling and you shut him down. It was pointless though, he knew he would never recover from your rejection. He also knew that spontaneous combustion wouldn’t look very good on his tombstone and that’s exactly what would happen if he spent one more minute not kissing you. 
Fuck it. 
“That pretty little set you had on last night.” he confessed. 
That you weren’t expecting. 
A quiet whine rang from your throat and you were far too affected to feel embarrassed. 
And that did it, Calum was now impossibly hard in his pants, no doubt leaking precum onto his boxer briefs. He needed to get his hands on you, now. 
His hand started to slowly travel up your thigh, goosebumps rising on every centimeter they passed. 
“So gorgeous in red, aren’t ya y/n?”
“Cal,” you hissed when his thumb brushed the sensitivity of your inner thigh. 
“Mm.” he hummed. “It’d be pretty hard fo’me to stop right now, but I will if that’s what you want. Is that what you want, love?” 
He was sure he’d cry if he had to let go of you now, but he needed to hear you say it. 
“No, don’t wanna stop.” you whined, turning your body flush to his.
“Whaddya want then, baby? Hm?” You could feel his every word on the flushed skin of your neck as he leaned into the crook.
“Want you.” 
He could’ve came then and there. 
“Then I’m all yours.” he admitted before crashing his lips on yours. 
Your heart was in your stomach as his tongue entered your mouth, explorative and eager. He was too busy memorizing your taste to notice your fingers tugging at his sweater. You attempted to push it up desperate to feel his skin under your hands. You were able to pull the fabric up about halfway before they were blocked by his arms that were holding you close against him.
Calum laughed when you pulled apart from the kiss, giving him a disappointed look. 
“Want it off?” he teased. 
You couldn’t bother to be embarrassed when you nodded eagerly in response. He didn’t waste any time peeling the fabric off of his skin, and you were quick to lightly run a finger across the ink feather just below his collarbone. 
Now it was his turn to tug on your clothes, “Level the playing field?” 
You nodded, lifting your arms and allowing him to lift the sweatshirt over your head leaving your chest completely bare. Calum groaned at the sight of your tits, his hands quickly finding your waist and tugging you down to lay on your back in one swift motion. 
Once you were laid out in front of him he took the opportunity to explore the new skin. His hands left a lingering warmth as they dragged across your stomach and despite the kind words and endearing demeanor that he always upheld with you, you found yourself shying under his gaze, wanting to curl away from him. As your hands began to wrap around your stomach in an attempt to cover yourself up he quickly pushed them away, locking them in place on either side of you. 
“Wanna see everything baby, all of you.” he cooed in your ear before nipping at the lobe. 
His kisses began to travel down your neck, sucking a few marks to your collar bones and the surrounding areas. When his fingers grazed over a fresh bruise in the dip just between your neck and shoulders you hissed lightly. 
“You look so pretty marked up for me. All mine, aren’t you baby? Not Cam’s, mine. Say it.” 
“Yours, Cal.” you admitted, feeling your body sink further into the couch. You had never felt drunk off of someone’s words before and the experience was leaving you sputtering, completely compliant to your best friend. 
He hummed contently at your confession, his large hands gripping at your hips, before slowly peeling your leggings off.
“Y’feel so good in my hands, like you were made for me.” his thumbs poking at the soft skin, just beneath your panties. 
The feeling of his hands so close to where you needed them, but not quite there was driving you crazy. 
“Cal, please.” you begged. 
He groaned before tugging at the cotton covering you. “Cam’s a fucking idiot, y’know that? He had the prettiest girl in the world and treated her like shit. I’d never do that, wanna worship you baby.” 
It was ridiculous how overwhelmed his words were leaving you, all desperate and squirming. As his fingers met the soaked expanse of your cunt you couldn’t hold back the throaty moan it elicited. 
A pornographic sigh followed close behind, one that made Calum want to pinch himself to ensure he wasn’t in the midst of a haunting dream. 
“Soaked f’me darling.” he mused, running his fingers up and down your folds to completely coat you in your arousal. You whimpered at the feeling, bucking your hips up desperate for friction. 
Tutting while shaking his head, he used one hand on your lower stomach to press you back down to the couch. 
“Stay still for me won’t you, love?” he cooed, continuing to run his fingers over your core lightly. 
When you bobbed your head up and down in agreement he lifted your leg to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your calf. 
“Hm, good girl.” he praised, softly laying your leg back down. 
Calum hovered above you, dipping his head down every so often to peck at your chest, his fingers still unrelenting. The knot in your lower stomach tightened every second that passed and you felt like you could scream at any second, yearning to be full. 
Calum felt like he could burst any minute himself but was determined to make this experience the best of your life. He wanted to give you something to remember, a reason to want more. 
Your soft moans and frustrated grunts alerted him to your neediness and he was just about ready to give in for the both of you. 
“What do you need from me, baby?” he said against your shoulder before peppering kisses across your collar bones. 
You could only respond with an airy moan when his fingers found your clit. 
“Hm? My fingers?” You shook your head aggressively. He knew exactly what you wanted, the tease. 
“No? Want my mouth?” he teased further, leaving an opened mouth kiss in between your tits. 
“Cal,” you sighed. “Fuck me, please.”
He groaned at your words, nipping lightly at the skin before ridding himself of his pants. 
“You’re a fucking dream, y’know that?” he praised, desperately searching for a condom in his pants. When he finally located one he held it up to you as if it were a prized possession, smiling proudly at his own preparedness. 
He hastily freed himself from the constraints of his boxers and rolled the condom on, never once taking his eyes off of the blissful expression on your face. 
“Ready?” he questioned, his tip lightly pressing at your entrance. You nodded and sucked in a breath, bracing yourself for the stretch, your eyes falling closed in the process. 
When a few seconds went by and nothing happened you opened your eyes to find Calum staring down at you in awe. 
“Cal,” you whined. “what’re you doing?” 
Your words seemed to break him from his trance, he shook his head and muttered an apology to you. 
“Sorry, fuck you’re pretty. You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” 
“Then stop waiti-” your words were cut off by a sharp hiss that couldn’t have been prevented as his length finally pressed into you. 
“Fuck.” Calum groaned his head falling back. You felt too good around him, seriously he was fucked, completely ruined for you. 
You felt the exact same as your silky moans filled the room. You had never been filled this good and you questioned how you had gone so long without this. 
“M-move” you sighed, clenching around him. 
You could hear his breath catch at the feeling and he grunted out a strained, “Need a minute.” 
He held himself in place for a few more seconds until his breaths began to even out once again before pulling nearly all the way out and slamming back in. 
You yelped, pulling your lip between your teeth in hopes to drown the sound. 
He continued slamming into you at an unrelenting pace, taking notice of each time your eyes would roll back when he brushed against your g-spot. He could write a book about how good you looked all fucked for him. 
As his thrusts grew closer together you could feel your release creeping up on you.  
“Cal, need’ta cum.” you stuttered out. 
His hands tightened around your hips, pulling you even closer to him as his head poked at that spot again. 
“Go on baby, let go.” he encouraged, willing himself to hold out a little longer as your walls fluttered around him. 
Once you had came it only took him about three more thrusts before he was painting the condom with his release, groaning your name as his hand searched for yours to intertwine them as he came down from his own high. 
  His body flopped next to yours on the couch, both of you struggling to fit next to each other in such a small space, not that either of you minded the close quarters. 
Your fingers remained laced together as you caught your breath, Calum peppering kisses to your shoulder and mumbling praises into your skin. 
“You’re an angel. God, I just- I love you.” he said, causing your head to snap in his direction. 
He looked like a deer in headlights when you asked for him to repeat himself. 
“I love you?” he obliged.
“Is it a question?” 
“No, I’m just not used to saying it.” he admitted, vulnerability clear in his eyes. 
You wanted to kiss away the worried crease in his forehead but instead pressed your lips to his, pulling apart a fraction of an inch to speak after a few seconds.
“I love you too.” you ensured. 
Calum eyes widened, not expecting you to say it back, at least not so soon. He had so much he wanted to say to you but figured all of it could be summed up by another kiss to your soft lips. So he closed the distance once again, using a bit more force this time in hopes it would convey the strength of his feelings for you.
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saveourskinship · 3 years
Text
100 Ways To Kill Voldemort
“We could just yeet him into a woodchipper,” Harry suggested cheerily, “Write that down.”
Hermione went to, then paused, “With what?”
“Huh?” Ron asked.
“How are you yeeting Voldemort?” Hermione queried.
“Well, we could conjure a catapult or, you know, Scorpion him. ‘Get over here’!” Harry turned his voice low and gravelled, making a whipping motion in the air.
“What the fuck are they doing?” Draco hissed at Theo.
“Obviously,” Theo drawled, because it was obvious, “they are writing a list of ways to kill our Lord and Saviour.”
“In the library?” Draco sputtered, flabbergasted.
“I hate to repeat myself,” Theo crossed his arms, “so indubitably.”
“Malfoy and Nott are eavesdropping,” Ron stated.
“Well, anyone who thinks we aren’t planning on killing Voldemort is an idiot. It’s not like we have to hide it,” Hermione sniffed, writing down Harry’s Scorpion idea.
“Hey Malfoy! Nott! Come help us!” Harry called.
“Muggle Jesus wank, they know we’re here,” Draco panicked.
“I’m just going to be relegated to one flock of synonyms, aren’t I?” Theo inspected his fingernails. “Unquestionably.”
“Malfoy and Nott are here?” Hermione blinked in their direction before turning back to Harry. “They could be quite helpful.”
“Are you both mental?” Ron whisper-yelled at them.
“Undoubtedly,” Theo commented, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m here. I’m just a Rick-Roll of the same quips. May as well make this interesting.” 
He walked over and conjured a chair right in between Harry and Hermione, distinctly closer to Harry, then leaned his upper arm flush with the table and rested his head on an elbow. “Hello, Potter.”
“Errr, hi?” Harry frowned a little at him.
“Salazar’s holy taint and balls,” Draco uttered under his breath, walking over too, glowering over them. “And how the ever-loving fuck do you think I could help?”
“Well, you are a Death Eater,” Harry said. 
“Yeah,” Hermione chimed in.
“Wait, what? You’ve been telling me all year I was wrong about that!” Harry said, outraged.
Hermione tsked and placed her quill down primly on the table, “Harry. I’ve barely been speaking to Ron this year because of Lavender and so I needed to be contrary with someone. And I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be right too often. You have a lot of dangerous ideas.”
“Where is Lavender?” Ron said, looking around for her. “Feels weird having my tongue in my own mouth.”
“Ugh,” everyone said.
Except Theo, who disgustedly enunciated, “Incontestably.”
“My idea’s aren’t dangerous,” Harry insisted.
Draco scoffed, earning him a nod of approval from Hermione.
“Here are your contributions thus far,” Hermione told him with a cough to clear her throat.
“Stop,” Ron shook his head as if clearing it. “I think I broke up with Lavender because when Malfoy poisoned me I think I asked for you when I woke up, ‘Mione? Aren’t we supposed to be getting together now?”
Everyone turned to Hermione for her answer. She sighed and rubbed a weary hand across her forehead, “Look, Ron, we probably are going to awkwardly fumble around each other for another year and then finally kiss over the corpse of some heinous monster somewhere and we will try, but our puppy love will fade when we are faced with the real world. Because it’s a bit weird for too many people to marry their highschool sweetheart, takes the sweetness out of it, you know.”
They all nodded like that made sense.
“So we will amicably split up and I will travel and fuck my way around the world for a bit then come back a changed woman but not so changed that I won’t utilise my contrarian charms on someone like Malfoy.”
“What?” Draco balked.
“Certainly,” Theo shot her a finger-gun to show he gave his blessing.
“So you end up with Malfoy? That’s gross.” Ron screwed up his face.
“It’s not that gross,” Draco said, so tellingly it was basically a Witch Weekly article.
“What about me?” Ron waved his arms around a little madly.
Hermione waved his offense away, “Don’t worry, from my calculations you end up with Pansy or Daphne or both.”
“Gross,” Draco parroted.
“Oh, okay. That’s cool then,” Ron bobbled his head.
“Definitely,” Theo added. “Do Harry now.”
Hermione looked at him like it was obvious and as Captain Obvious he should know that.
“Clearly,” she began, “Harry will be straight until the end of the year when he’ll finally realise that oh! you can be attracted to boys, too!” she gave Theo a Significant Look™.
“Naturally,” Theo inclined his head, returning said Look with a nice lob.
“Of course,” Hermione returned the swing.
“Unmistakeably,” Theo hit back.
“What is happening?” Draco edged out the corner of his mouth to Ron.
“No. Idea.” Ron gritted back.
“Enough.” Hermione ended the volley. “Now, Harry, your list -” Hermione flicked the parchment.
“Nothing wrong with it!” Harry harrumphed.
“Without doubt,” Theo shifted even closer to Harry.
“Aside from yeeting Voldy-Knob Knees into a woodchipper with a Scorpion style Accio, you have also said we should: shoot him with a bazooka; ask for the Time Turner back to kill him at the orphanage; conjure him into a wetsuit with a Portguese Man o’ War inside it; use your connection to his mind to convince him he’s not an evil wizard but actually a McDonald’s employee. Specifically a bad one; drop a hive of murder hornets on him and..” she scanned the list, “Oh yes, blow up Malfoy Manor.”
“You can’t blow up my house!” Draco yelled, outraged.
Harry shrugged, “I’m more partial to the wetsuit/jellyfish idea anyway.”
“See, dangerous,” Hermione concluded.
“Rather distinctly,” Theo agreed, fanning himself.
“Well, when we started this list in fifth year, your best idea didn’t exactly work out, did it!” Harry accused Hermione who raised her eyebrows.
“It will work... eventually. It’s more a long-term plan.”
“What is it?” Draco asked, curious.
Harry tucked his chin downward and whispered Parseltongue in the direction of his crotch.
“Whaaaaat the fuck?” Draco took a step back as Harry’s belt slithered out from the loops and snaked up his back to rest on his shoulder, forked tongue darting out to lick Harry’s cheek .
“What the fuck are you doing using a snake as a belt?!” Draco cried in shock.
Hermione cooed at it, scratching under its chin as it cutely rubbed against her finger. “She’s not a snake, she’s a basilisk. Hatched her last summer. Wasn’t hard, all you need is a chicken egg and a toad.”
“Evidently,” Theo inserted excitedly, clapping his hands at the chaos he’d walked into.
“She’s still young, so it will take a few years for her to gain her glowy eyes death thing, but I figured if a basilisk can be trained to Petrify me, I could do the same thing to old Volder-Boulders. Repay the favour so to speak.”
There was a moment of silence where ridiculousness met insanity and settled into a weirdly sane set of logic.
“Float him into space,” Draco suggested, sitting between Hermione and Ron, reaching over her to write it down himself under number 100. “We get enough people to cast Wingardium Leviosa on him and float him into space. He can only use the Bubblehead charm for so long before it fails. And he’ll probably freeze to death first.”
“Surely,” Theo concurred, placing his hand on Harry’s knee who looked at it curiously, but didn’t remove himself.
“Not bad,” Ron mused, rubbing his chin.
“What else you got?” Hermione asked Draco, leaning over his elbow to watch him write.
“More than you can handle, Granger,” Draco smirked.
“True. Right now at least,” she conceded. “But once I’ve satisfied my wanderlust in a few years, you’re going to be shocked, Malfoy. Shocked.”
“This is fun,” Harry piped up, nuzzling his basilisk, which was sadly not a euphemism at that point in time, “we should do it again.”
Theo grinned at him and licked his canine wickedly.
“Obviously.”
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dalishthunder · 3 years
Text
Degenerate
Rating: Explicit Pairing: Cronus solo Words: 1745 Praise kink, humiliation kink, slight body horror (cronus bites a toy), guilty wank
Cronus leaned back in the tub, acclimating to the temperature and the feeling of being submerged. It had been a while, if he was being completely honest with himself, since he'd been in water. Properly in water. Submerged instead of just letting it roll over his skin in the shower. Despite the blood and the gills, he really wasn't great at being a seadweller....
Chalk up another strike against being a troll.
Not that it really made him feel any more human.
He shook his head. This wasn't about that. None of that mattered right now. He had important matters to attend to. Like how warm the water was and how if he closed his eyes he could imagine you all around him. Like the fact that the tip of his bulge was already starting to peek out of the sheath.
Glub it was so hot... so fucking hot.
You'd probably be this hot.
Absolutely searingly hot like humans were.... Not that he had any hands on experience but your hands were warm when you touched him, so the rest of your body had to be too, right? He was pretty sure that's how things worked.
He shimmied further into the water, submerging completely and flaring out his gill plates. It always felt so odd breathing through them instead of his air sacks, but at least under the tap water it didn't sting the way seawater did.
He licked his lips, sliding his hands down his abdomen to swirl around his tip, teasing the narrow slit with a carefully manicured cla- nail. Humans called them nails. He could feel more of his bulge sliding out into the hot wetness. And not for the first time, he really wondered what you had in your pants.
Not that it really mattered. Or that he even had a preference, but it would have been nice to know where to focus and how to imagine you fucking him.
But he'd seen your mouth. Seen your lips. Seen your tongue. Seen the bluntness of your human teeth. And he had seen so, so much porn about what humans could do with those. And it wasn't even considered kinky. It was just a normal part of human sex to just straight up get their faces all up in their partner's junk. Humans were so fucking wild. Life would have been so much better if he'd been hatched a human....
Then maybe he'd be warm and you'd like him back.
But he was warm now and dwelling on things when his bulge was curling around his wrist demanding attention like a needy slitherbeast was counter intuitive. He squeezed it and let out a deep glub into the water.
His fingers ran along the underside, stopping right near the base and he rubbed along the ridge of flesh where his bulge met its sheath. His head arched back, horns scraping against the edge of the tub as his mouth flew open. With the heat of the water he could almost imagine it was your tongue.
Teasing him... circling his base. He wondered if you'd kiss it like they did in human porn or if that was too sentimental. You were sentimental though and this was his fantasy and he liked the thought of you kissing him there. And if he closed his eyes and concentrated enough he could almost feel the ghost of your lips kiss their way down his thorax. Warm, soft, and so human.
It was difficult to feel human with water flowing over his gills instead of air filling up his windsac- lungs. Humans called them lungs. Much quicker to say.
But he let his mind float just like his body for a moment, steeped in warmth. You'd tell him he was thinking too much. Maybe not the real you, but he liked the thought of someone telling him he was thinking too much instead of not thinking at all, and Eridan was out for the night and pops wasn't around he had plenty of time to enjoy himself.
Cronus stroked his bulge a few times to get back into it, an unrestrained moan escaping his throat. You'd look so good between his thighs. He dipped his finger into his nook, rubbing up against his shameglobes. He spread his legs a little wider, pushing in more deeply, adding another and scissoring them.
His other hand went up to grab the shamestick he'd left on the tub's edge. It was special. A human one. Made to look like a human penis. Which really didn't look anything like bulges. Had their shameglobes on the outside just... dangling around... just asking for someone to bite them off or something. Fucking wild.
And humans even put it in their mouths. Humans put everything in their mouths.... He gave the tip of the shamestick a tentative lick. It tasted neutral like the silicon it was made of, and idly wondered if he were to show off his prowess if you'd realize how great of a partner he'd be. He took it into his mouth, careful to avoid his sharp teeth.
Maybe if he could show you just how far he could take it down, you'd be so impressed that you'd fuck him right then and there. Yeah, he'd show you just how great he could be-
As it hit the back of his tongue, Cronus gagged, reflexively pulling back. He could feel the silicon getting caught on his teeth and pulled out the mangled toy, spitting out the little silicon ribbons into the water.
Shit.
Those pailvid actors had made it look so easy... it wasn't fair.
Okay maybe that wouldn't impress you.... But impressing you was probably just not a great road to try to go down anyway. Sure maybe all the porn had to count for something, but if he tried anything he'd probably just broadcast how inexperienced he was. Maybe if he guilted you....
No.
No. He could worry about that later.
He was too far out of the fantasy now. He didn't have to worry about wooing fantasy you. You could already human like him and want to be with him....
Want to whisper sweet things against his fins while you ran your hands all over his body. He gripped his bulge, stroking it to the thought of your tongue running over his gills like some debauched god of hedonism. Humans were freaks like that. It was amazing.
Probably.
At least your pailvids were.
He bet you were a freak though.
Yeah.
He reached over and grabbed the nice shamestick, the one that vibrated and was completely unrealistic, from the rim of the tub. He teased the entrance of his nook as his bulge curled tightly around his wrist. Cronus was usually too lazy to break out the shamesticks, but tonight... tonight was all for him.
He pushed in slowly, mouth falling open at the delicious stretch. He set it to vibrate and held it there as his hips bucked into it and his bulge slithered around and tightened its grasp on his wrist, and an incredibly sinful thought wormed its way into his head.
He licked his lips, pulling the shamestick out.
"What a good way to loosen yourself up," You'd whisper to him. He scissored his fingers like you would. "But I bet there's something else that'd work even better."
He could hear the low clicks of his purr reverberating between the walls of the tub.
Wrangling his bulge with just one hand was far more difficult than he anticipated, so he dropped his shamestick to finish straightening his bulge with the other. And with a sharp inhale, followed by several coughs to get the water out of his airsac- lungs, he curled his bulge so the tip lined up with the entrance to his nook.  
He slowly slid it in, muscled twitching, overwhelmed by the sensation. He wriggled and thrashed inside himself and he positively keened.
"You look so good like that," And you'd lick his fin, grinding your heel against the base of his bulge. "Absolutely gorgeous stretched out from your own bulge like the beautiful little degenerate you are. My beautiful little degenerate."
Oh fuck.
He wasn't going to last.
It took a ridiculous amount of restraint to just hold his bulge in there with his hand while it explored everything his nook had to offer. It twisted and undulated, curled back in on itself in the tight space. A sob caught in his throat. He'd only done this once before, and it had been too intense to keep it up more than a few seconds... not to mention the absolute debased nature of self-penetration. Pailing without a partner? He really was a degenerate.
Not that he didn't know that already.
"My degenerate." Your voice echoed in his thoughts and he relaxed as much as one could with their bulge stuffed so far up their nook it had to double back on itself; Which is to say, not much. But it cleared his mind so he could focus on the sensation and the thought of you watching him with a wicked, hungry smile.
His body quaked as he lost himself to well... himself, his bulge finally thrashing its way out of his nook as his attention lapsed.
He pumped himself hard and fast, his other hand grabbing the still vibrating shamestick and pressing it back into his nook, right up against his globes.
It was probably a good thing he was under water because he shrieked out your name as he tipped over the edge, genetic material pluming out into the water, reflecting in the moonlight pouring in.
"My, my... look at all of that slurry." He continued to stroke himself, "All of that slurry but no bucket... what a little degenerate. Do you like not using one? I bet you like the way it looks when it's splattered over don't you? I bet you want to fill someone up, don't you?" He nodded, milking himself for all he was worth to the thought of filling you up too, not stopping until his body was trembling at the almost painful overstimulation.
He heaved himself up out of the water, breathing heavily, coughing when some water got in.
Cronus kind of wished he'd recorded that to watch later because it was undoubtedly one of the hottest things he'd ever done.
He was still shuddering as his bulge slowly retracted.
He really was your little degenerate wasn't he?
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iamanartichoke · 3 years
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So, remember that post I made like six months ago with gifs from the films of Loki having "nerves of steel," compared to a gif from the scene (in the trailer, at that point) where he jumps like ten feet when he finds himself in front of the dude with the stack of papers? Remember how I said "hmm seems like an ooc reaction" due to how sharply the latter reaction contrasted with the former ones? (I'd link but I don't feel like searching for it.)
Yeah. That post was MOSTLY A JOKE. It literally was just something I thought about and foolishly decided to share bc I thought it was funny. It was not that deep and I can't believe I even have to explain that.
(cut for length)
I'm bringing this up bc I was reading the notes on one of the survey posts going around; one user basically reblogged just to shit on it (I guess it was easier to hop on the post and aggressively tear them down instead of just ... not taking the survey?) and then talked about how much antis hate everything, and how one of our "hot takes" was that Loki was "ooc because he flinched" & "these are the types of people we're dealing with - toxic antis with shit opinions., can you believe"
And I just. I'm so, like, baffled. I know for a fact that more than this one person thought I was being 100% serious with my "hot take" and it's just like, jfc, I literally don't know how to process that apparently my opinions on Loki, his characterization, and his show in general can be summarized with "he's ooc cause he flinched that one time; source: a bunch of gifs" like???? And then to say I'm a Loki anti; like, yes, I'm such a fucking anti-Loki person over here with my Loki obsessed fan blog. Amazing. For all their talk of "antis" not understanding nuance and subtlety, they sure do take everything at face value and make sweeping generalizations, don't they.
I debated even posting this, bc nothing says "uh it was a joke!" like a multi-paragraph rebuttal - thou dost protest too much, methinks, and everything - but it honestly isn't even about the stupid post. It's just that this is an example of how fucking toxic this entire fandom has gotten and I am 500% done. You literally can't win. You criticize the show, you're an anti. You criticize it a lot, and you're probably mentally ill, too. You praise the show, and you find yourself pulled into a "but wasn't it just so brilliant though?" circle-jerk by way of reblogs. You try to have discussions about several aspects of the show, both what you liked and what you didn't, and you get told you're not being impartial enough bc your opinion is rooted in fanon. And regardless of who you're talking to or interacting with on the regular, you're in an echo chamber.
So finally you try to not state too much of an opinion either way and just mind your own business. Try to just enjoy yourself by staying out of the wank and avoiding having your posts spread around and taken out of context. And what happens? The wank finds you anyway. A six month old post comes back to haunt you. You can be reading a post you've not interacted with in any way, and still come away from it having been slapped in the face with some back-handed callout from someone you literally didn't even know existed before this. And just.
What the actual fuck, you guys. Come on.
It's nearly impossible to enjoy yourself anymore. I haven't felt comfortable posting my thoughts/opinions for quite awhile now, and apparently I can't even post humor, either. I furthermore don't feel comfortable knowing there are people in this fandom who are taking people's posts and using them to make Statements about that person's mental health. Or - I saw this very recently - just taking screenshots and mocking their opinions. (I don't care if it's the worst take in the world - what in the fuck makes you think you have the right to screenshot it and trash it? Mind your own business! Jesus! Who raised you?)
Just. I'm tired of it. I don't like not knowing who, actually, is reading my posts or why they're viewing my blog. It's upsetting to me and I've been upset for a long time and this was just the icing on the cake. And yknow what, I'm half afraid to even post this bc, again, I have no idea who's reading or who's going to vaguepost about me as a result. It is absolutely ridiculous.
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reachexceedinggrasp · 3 years
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So the majority of the shows I’ve seen lately can be charitably described as ‘light entertainment’, including the ones with dark elements or more weighty, ponderous plots. They might be entertaining or interesting, they just... don’t stand up to scrutiny. Turn your brain off because this isn’t that carefully or skilfully made and you’ll only be annoyed if you start thinking about it as a whole. Including the last couple 'tragic’ historical dramas I’ve watched, which were not effective tragedy for that very reason. If you’re going to kill off the main cast, you have to earn it, and overwhelmingly writers don’t. Anyway, I’ve been getting despondent about whether stories which actually hang together and form a coherent narrative unit with consistent themes are the exception rather than the rule.
(And I feel like that should be a pretty low standard to meet, it’s sort of Step 1 of ‘being a story’: be about something! Communicate something, no matter how basic it is. Dead simple stories with rock basic messages can be revelatory! Just do it well!)
I’ve seen very little genuinely focussed or meaningful storytelling in my ventures for what feels like a long time. Basically, I can kind of count on one hand the number of films or dramas or whathaveyou I’ve seen from the last few years where it felt like the filmmakers were in complete control of their story and everything in it was purposeful and intentional. Most things have felt slapdash or shallow or fleeting. Story elements and character choices come out of nowhere just to derail already concluded arcs and fill screen time with empty repetitious drama, not to serve a meaningful narrative purpose. I would be watching with zero confidence anything in particular was going anywhere or that the writers knew where that should be. It’s just throwing shit at the wall, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants type writing all the time and it fucking shows.
But then I watched Money Flower.
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Money Flower is different. Money Flower is towering head and shoulders above every modern drama I’ve ever seen. Titanically good writing which rises above its genre and makes conventions seem radically new and fresh not by reinventing them or deconstructing them, but by playing them straight, taking them seriously, and committing 1000%. This is all your familiar rich family tropes but with masterpiece execution, infused with consequence and meaning because they’re all driven by the psychology of complex three-dimensional characters. So many moving pieces and none of them are random or unmotivated. Just... GOOD WRITING. And I want to make the point that it is this wherein art lives. The difference between a rank Lifetime movie and Romeo and Juliet is not novelty or tropes or plot twists- it’s execution.
This show is such a perfect example that it is not ‘mere events’ (aka plot) or novelty or shock value or cool ideas which separates something brilliant and timeless from forgettable schlock; it is solely and entirely execution. It’s writing itself, if you know what I mean. You can describe many of Shakespeare’s tragedies and history plays as soap opera plots. What makes Macbeth a deathless masterwork and Death Wish Hollywood wank isn’t a fundamental difference in subject or genre. It’s Shakespeare’s characterisation and purposeful storytelling. It’s the poetry of the dialogue. It’s the craft of writing. Most of Shakespeare’s plots are based on existing stories or on historical events and that has never mattered because novelty is not an inherent good or of any inherent artistic value.
Like, this is the problem with storytelling right now blah blah GOT, shitty endings everywhere etc. because power over the audience (can’t let anyone guess the plot, looking ‘clever’ with meaningless callbacks) and novelty are valued over narrative structure or things making sense or emotional verisimilitude. We have so many writers thinking being ‘shocking’ is all it takes to be a genius. It’s easy to be shocking if your story makes no goddamn sense because things that don’t make sense are literally unpredictable. Not in a good way, though. A great twist or sudden swerve needs to be unexpected but inevitable in hindsight or it does not work. I should be able to rewatch your thing and think ‘oh, of course! you can see it was [x] all along!’
We have so many popular writers now who are so shallow they don’t think anything needs to make sense on a character or emotional level. They don’t think their story has to be about anything. Substance is irrelevant as long as the surface is flashy enough. That has no staying power, you can only watch it once and you will forget about it quickly.
However, if you have ever wanted to experience the constant heightened stakes and High Drama of a soap opera without being annoyed at how ridiculous it all is and while actually giving a shit about the characters because they feel like real human beings, if you’ve wanted to feel repercussions when characters make choices, and get the emotional payoff that is the entire point of drama- now you can. Watch Money Flower. And let me tell you, it is fucking riveting. This show is mostly made up of people sitting in rooms talking and yet it is heart-pounding excitement nearly every episode. It is profoundly traditional and by the book while being totally fresh. It’s the most engrossing and satisfying artistic experience I’ve had in a long time.
Like, THE TENSION, THE DRAMA, THE REVEALS!!! You can, in fact, spend most of 24+ hours on the edge of your seat about family problems and business mergers. It seems unlikely, but that is the power of this series, it creates insanely high stakes and mesmerising suspense out of the most commonplace ingredients. Familiar plot elements become brand new and surprising under the deftness and tightness of this narrative. The plot itself is certainly 100% melodrama but it never feels like a soap opera and is never ever soapy in in a pejorative sense because it handles its classic tropes with such maturity and nuance that it's like you've never seen them before. The writing is incredible.
It is on an entirely different level than the vast majority of dramas, with a total self-assurance that keeps the pacing relentless yet unhurried- taking its time to let the impact of events be felt, the narrative always knowing exactly where it’s going and how to get there. The characters are all multi-faceted and unpredictable without ever being incoherent, their motives and goals always being gradually uncovered in more detail that only makes the storytelling and characterisation even tighter, even richer. The twists and cliffhangers are always mind-blowing but always earned, never cheap or nonsensical, and I can't remember ever thinking that about another show. (There’s literally one exception towards the very end where something a bit random happens for reasons of pure symbolism- it’s a misstep imo but it’s minor in the scheme of things)
Every time I started to doubt the writing, started to think ‘oh no, they’re going off the rails’, they showed me I was wrong and they were in total control. The only 'problem' with the show is that the drama is also profoundly painful to watch unfold, particularly in the beginning, because it's a story where everyone makes terrible life choices and moral corruption is everywhere. It's hypnotic though, like a car crash. If you can handle something dark, insidious, cerebral, and character-driven there is nothing I've seen in the same vein that can approach its brilliance. It’s like The Magnificent Ambersons as a slick modern revenge drama. There is also (PRECIOUSLY!!) a core of stunning romanticism around which all the horrors revolve and that saves it from becoming hideous or cynical. There is a chance for redemption and a new beginning after all, in spite of all appearances.
The ending has apparently been controversial, and it is definitely not quite as climatic as you would have expected given how powerfully climatic almost every regular episode is, but it's a good ending. There isn't full closure, they don't provide final resolution in a bow, but to me it's an ending about hope. It suggests optimism for our characters and I was satisfied with that. It's extremely rare for a 'revenge story’ to allow this kind of room for healing and it can do that because, imo, we discover in the end that it wasn't ultimately vengeance in Pil Joo’s heart. He has not become a tragic hero who will be consumed by the cannibalistic darkness of revenge, his quest was for justice. He teeters on the edge of the abyss but he avoided falling in; he didn't sell his soul, at least not irrevocably.
He is nonetheless a very tragic figure and an anti-hero, but despite having dedicated his life to bringing down the Jang cabal, it’s not that he’ll stop at nothing. He will make any personal sacrifice no matter how desolate, he lives as a mere husk of a man, and he facilitates enormous emotional harm to others in service of his goals, but he has ethical hard lines he never considers crossing. His sense of decency and compassion is never extinguished; he does care about the collateral damage he is causing even when making justifications for it. It’s important to him to give people as much agency as possible in their choices, to mitigate the damage done by his schemes as much as he can. To try to prevent harm coming to undeserving bystanders. Not that this makes it okay that he uses people, which he does, but the point is he never completely surrenders his moral compass to avarice. He’s never okay with burning down the world or ruining innocent lives just to get to his target.
Pil Joo is less a vigilante and more an avenging angel, he wants justice more than retribution. He wants fairness and a better, safer world where what has happened to his family won’t happen again. The reason this story never becomes Sweeney Todd (aka: a full on tragedy where we see the inevitable outcome of lust for revenge) and the reason he can survive twenty years spent pursuing someone’s downfall is exactly that principle. Searching for retribution would have destroyed him, he would have become the very thing he hated, but instead he goes as far as necessary to publicly expose the Jangs for what they are and then willingly submits to penance for his complicity in their crimes and tries to atone with the people he hurt along the way. Purged, he’s symbolically reborn and takes back his real name to maybe finally have a chance at the life he should have had. He moves on, content, a positive force. He’s capable of healing from the ordeal because he realises he doesn’t need retaliation, just seeing them stopped and facing consequences for their actions is enough.
The love story is a superbly poignant part of this. Their love is the ‘victim’ of his revenge and it will forever be impacted by it, but it’s not something that can be killed, so there’s still hope. Mo Hyeon’s bookending rescues of Pil Joo from death mean first that he has a purpose he must fulfil and then the second time that he has freedom to finally live as himself, for himself. There’s a future. And maybe they can be together there. I’m emo about it.
Anyway, if there was the slightest doubt about me becoming a long-term Jang Hyuk fangirl, it’s been put to rest. This performance is easily one of the best I’ve ever seen, period. No contest it’s the best I’ve seen in a tv drama. It’s also the most subtle and masterful turn he's delivered in his whole career. He's so restrained, but he is giving absolutely everything; he has total control over every microexpression, every gesture, every molecule in his body. There is so much simmering under his surface, so much going on in his eyes; the layers and depths are endless. The intensity and sharp intellectual focus he brings to the character is breathtaking. Everyone else is doing amazing work too, but he is almost constantly on screen and has this spectacular command of such a sprawling story, such a complex character, and he makes it look effortless. All artifice has melted away. The fact that being so tightly contained is in stark contrast to the bombastic element in many of his other roles renders its delicate precision even more startlingly impressive. I thought he was a great actor before, but I didn’t fully appreciate what he was capable of until Pil Joo.
#money flower#kdrama#writing#jang hyuk#long post#I've written a bit before about revenge and how it will inevitably lead to tragedy#so I wouldn't without explanation even call MF a 'revenge drama' because it turns out it's a complicated yet beautiful 'hope' drama lmao#it's actually a 'romance' in the Shakespearean sense#like the Winter's Tale#I guess we just call that 'tragicomedy' now but I don't find that word very helpful or descriptive#I don't think anyone actually know what you mean when you say that#anyway the first writing that is every bit as good as the production/acting side I've seen in what feels like forever#I just feel like everything is great characters in a mess of a story or brilliant performances elevating a bad script or good start-bad end#like no one knows what they're doing any more or why#but this show is incredible#it's only not perfect because the last four episodes are not up to what you'd expect for the rest but they are still really good#just not perfect#the last episode has problems but they're not with the concept of the ending at all- the concept IS perfect#and apparently I'm the only one who thinks that lol#apparently a lot of people did not understand what was happening and some misread it as a dream sequence#(this is an insane take to me- it's really not confusing or ambiguous at all)#(bc God forbid the main character not die and have a chance to heal after his absolutely miserable life?)#but yeah it's the only time anything feels rushed or not quite smooth#and one major character's fate isn't as satisfying as it could be#but I felt like I was never going to see something as engrossing as this again for a while there#anyway anyway NEW OTP#I didn't even get into it because no one cares about my giant rant here but it's SO traditional while being VERY different idk#the romanticism was so unexpected in a show that seems like it's going to be intensely cynical- it's  handled with such gravitas#romance with gravitas is PRICELESS to me#the best swerve ever is for a show to NOT be cynical when it seemed so dark- that's a plot twist I can get behind
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I’m not sure if you got my request or if it got lost but I’m re-sending it anyway! What about James being insecure because of his body changing during adolescence? I mean, maybe getting weight on and being insecure of it, thinking he might not do well on Quidditch, remaining short while everyone is getting roller. Sirius helping him accepting himself? I mean, probably James will keep remaining a show off but Sirius knows best! Thank youuu
James saw his friends getting taller and thinner. Well alright, maybe not thinner but they were losing the baby fat. Remus didn't quite have the cherub look about him anymore, and Sirius had shot up like a damn beanpole. James figured the same was going to happen to him. He waited patiently. 
And then he waited impatiently. 
And then he figured that nothing good ever came from waiting anyways so he should get a move on if he wanted anything change. It's not like he hated his body, but, well... everybody else was getting taller. More toned. He was just getting bigger. He'd gotten a little taller, of course, but not as much comparatively to how thick he was getting. Bigger. That's the word his parents used. Because it wasn't just growing up that he was doing, it was growing out. 
He didn't want for this to happen. Not to sound like a complete arse, but he had a certain vision for how his life was going to go, and in none of those was he too big to be a chaser. Beaters could be stocky. Keepers, too, but not chasers-- definitely not seekers, but what did he care? He wasn't a bloody seeker. He wanted to play Quidditch professionally, and he wasn't going to let anything get in the way of that. He had to up his training. Clearly just doing practice for Quidditch wasn't enough. He'd have to start working out for normal exercise shite too. It was going to be a pain in the arse, he could already feel it. But, this is what he wanted. The good shite doesn't fall into your lap all the time; you have to work for it sometimes. Sirius and the other Marauders had already fallen into his lap. His parents being bloody awesome had also already been hand delivered. Working to achieve his dream career wasn't ridiculous. He could do this. 
*
He could not do this. 
He must be doing something wrong. He'd been on his new regimen for three months, and nothing had happened. He was now on month six, and he'd gotten bigger. Not the normal partly out, partly up kind of bigger. Thicker. He hadn't gotten any taller, but now he was thicker. Not just around the middle, which sort of made him feel good, but he was definitely bigger there too. He hadn't lost any weight; he'd gained it. 
James Potter did not often sulk. It wasn't fun, and it generally put him in a worse mood. Plus, he was usually in a good mood anyways, so there wasn't much he had to sulk about. 
He was letting himself sulk right now. His final year of Hogwarts was starting in two months, and there were going to be Quidditch scouts at their games. If he wanted to get drafted onto a team, he had to play the best he ever had. If he kept getting thicker, how was that going to help how he played? 
And okay, it's not like his games had been going poorly, but he was caught up in thinking about how much better he could be doing. He could be doing so much fucking better; he was sure of it, even if nothing he was trying seemed to be doing the job. Hence, sulking. 
The door to his room opened enough for Sirius to stick his head in-- he kept the rest of his body out, like he wasn't sure if he was welcome. "Hey, mate. You alright?" 
"I'm fine," he said, because he didn't want to unload all of this on Sirius. Talking about it wasn't going to make him feel better anyways. "What's up?" 
"Do you wanna try that again?" Sirius asked, stepping inside. He turned on the light-- peak sulking had to be done without overhead light, and James winced a little at the sudden brightness-- and closed the door behind him. "Because it's the middle of summer. I was downstairs, and you were shut away in your room. Shouldn't we be eating ice cream or summat? Or you can drag me running with you again. It's horrible and makes me want to die, but whatever." 
James frowned. "If you think it's horrible, why did you keep agreeing to go with me?" 
"Because you kept asking, duh." 
James's frown deepened. "That's not a good reason. If you didn't want to go, you should've said-" 
"Honestly? This is what you're getting worked up about?" Sirius interrupted incredulously, raising an eyebrow at him. "Not whatever it is you're upset about?" 
"'m not upset about anything," he muttered. It wasn't his most convincing lie, but Sirius already seemed to know that before he said a word. 
"What're you sulking about, then?" Sirius asked, flopping next to him on the loveseat. 
James thought about denying it again, but he sighed instead. "I'm getting bigger. I won't be able to play Quidditch professionally unless I slim down." 
"Right. Er, how's that?" 
"What d'you mean 'how's that'? I just told you-!" 
"What you just told me was that you can't play pro unless you get smaller, which is a load of hippogriff shite. Have you looked at the best scoring chasers this season? C'mon," Sirius said, getting a hand around James's upper arm and pulling until he got to his feet. He dragged James over to his room, then grabbed a magazine from his bedside table. "Look at this." He flipped the magazine open and turned it to face James more fully. 
It was a spread of Cortez, one of the top chasers for the last three seasons. There was probably an article in the magazine somewhere, but right now all it showed were photographs. He was shirtless, wet in one of them, and grinning while he tossed a quaffle from hand to hand. 
"I'm just saying, you look more like him than-" Sirius shifted to show him the cover that was featuring the Cannon's seeker "-this bloke. Don't worry about it." 
James grabbed the magazine out of his hands, and Sirius let it happen. He flipped through some of the pages. "I guess. I just thought I'd look more like the rest of you, y'know?" 
"I wasn't aware the 'rest of us' had a uniform look." 
"You know what I mean," James said, rolling his eyes. "Besides, Cortez is taller than me. By a lot." 
"So? I wouldn't know what to do with you if you were bigger than me." 
"What've you been trying to do with me? Last time I checked, we throw each other around like we always have," James said. He got to the pages with Cortez, then cocked his head as realisation stirred in the back of his mind. James looked kinda like him. And Sirius had this magazine right next to his bed. And... it opened very easily to this section. "Do you wank to this?" 
Sirius snatched the magazine out of James's hands. "Bugger off," he muttered, face flaming. "D'you feel better?" 
"You do, don't you? Wh- is it just Cortez or like-" James stopped talking when Sirius got to his feet and forcefully shoved the magazine back into the drawer. "I was only taking the piss," James said, teasing smile falling away. 
"Yeah. Got that," Sirius said tightly. He tried for a smile, but it was strained. "I don't really want to talk about it. You good to go have some fun now?" 
"...Yeah." He could ask Sirius about this later when the mood was a little better for it. He didn't want to grab him and kiss him if Sirius was just going to think that he was taking the joke too far. 
*
In hindsight, James should have thought it through before he snogged Sirius's face off. But like, all's well that ends well, because Sirius kissed him back. They'd eaten dinner and were messing around, talking about future pranks they could do at Hogwarts and who they thought the Head Boy would be. James's mind wandered back to Sirius's magazine and the thought that he looked kinda like the bloke Sirius thought was attractive. He'd kissed him and not really thought twice about it. 
They'd snogged for a bit then decided to get some sleep and gone their separate ways. Now that they were in their separate ways, James was thinking about it. He hadn't told Sirius that he fancied him. He hadn't told him that he didn't want for this to be a one night event. He should probably mention that. With a sigh, James threw the covers off and went over to Sirius's room. 
Sirius answered the door quickly enough that James knew he hadn't been in bed. "What's up?" 
James stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "Hey." 
"Er, hi?" Sirius said. He walked over and sat on his bed, then looked over at James expectantly. 
James kinda froze up. He hadn't let himself think about it before because if he thought about it too much, he was going to veer into 'creepily staring' territory instead of pining, but Sirius was so buggering gorgeous. There were days when he dressed up-- put on makeup and did his hair-- but even when he didn't, he was so pretty that it made him want to cry a little. His hair was a bit of a mess from laying down and running his fingers through it-- and, to be honest, from having James's hands in his hair earlier-- and he was still everything James had ever wanted. 
"James?" Sirius prompted, and James shook himself. 
Right. He'd come here for a reason. A reason other than admiring Sirius, that is. "I want to kiss you," he blurted. 
"Okay?" Sirius said, frowning. "I mean, I figured what with us snogging earlier, but it's rather late, and your parents will totally catch us if they see that we're still up." 
Fuck. That wasn't what he'd meant to say. "Yeah, no, I meant, like, that I want to kiss you all the time." 
"Okay?" Sirius repeated. He was very obviously still confused about what the hell was going on. 
This was exactly what James had been trying to avoid. "Alright, let's start over. Just- forget everything I said." 
"Alright?" 
"Hi Sirius, hope I didn't wake you up; I would like to date you." 
Sirius blinked. Then, "Really? Cause if you're just joking around, I'm going to punch you." 
"Yes, really!" James said, offended. He joked about a lot of things, but never this. Some things were sacred-- like how much he wanted to shag his best friend. "What kind of prick do you think I am?" 
"Your own special variety," Sirius said automatically, but he was looking at James with something akin to astonishment. "You... I mean, really James. Me?" 
James frowned. "Why'd you say it like that?" 
"Like what? I was just asking if you were sure." 
"You said it like you couldn't believe I was interested in you." 
"Well." Sirius shifted how he was sitting uncomfortably. "I'm not really your type, am I?" 
"Mate, you are so my type it's almost funny that you don't know it." 
"Oh sure, make fun of your boyfriend." 
"That's a yes, then?" 
Sirius hesitated for a moment before replying. He was probably still waiting for the moment where he was told this was a joke. "Yes. It's- erm, a yes." 
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dotthings · 4 years
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Just getting some personal frustrations off my chest. It’s been 15 years of endless nonsense and wank. I’m a little salty. I really need to let it all go and keep my mouth shut and just enjoy what’s left of SPN but sometimes you just gotta let it out.
Sometimes I wish I could find an archive of the old TWOP spn message boards just so I could illustrate how ridiculous the petty grudgewanking against Dabb is getting. “Dabb ruined SPN” for doing shit that Kripke did in S1 and spn fandom was already wanking itself to pieces over.
I’m so done. I’m so done hearing how anti-Dabbs are the only ones who get the show, I’m done with being used as the personal punching bag for some people just because I don’t hate Dabb era canon and won’t trash every character who dares breathe while not being my one true fave, I’m so tired of the oh so creative fandom revisionist history and canon revisionist history and revisionist history on how fandom reacted to things starting in Kripke era just so they can scream and yell again how Dabb destroyed SPN’s legacy and ruined the fandom. I’m sick of being gaslighted. I’m sick of being condescended to and patronized by people who make hilaribad hottakes on twitter that HAVE NO RELATIONSHIP TO THE ACTUAL EPISODE CONTENT BECAUSE THEY DON’T PAY ATTENTION TO ANYTHING BUT THEIR OVERFOGGED DISTORTED STAN GOGGLES. I’m tired of accounts who claim that ridiculously biased tincesters who happen to be professional critics who make gross mis-statements about canon and clearly don’t understand one effing thing about SPN’s longest running themes or anything that has happened since Kripke left claim to be unbiased because it’s supposedly ship-free when it’s laden with tincester agenda and this gets hailed as some deep truth about SPN. I’m tired of people putting their obsessive OBSESSIVE anti fixations against Jack and against Dabb over basic common sense in ways that isn’t actual critique it’s just perpetual pointless hatred and grudgewanking. I have been pissed at things about SPN myself, I don’t think I ever have or ever could achieve the levels of anti-obssessing the anti-Dabb crowd has achieved, gold star to them. I’m tired of being accused of stupid and contradictory shit by stans from EVERY GODAMN LANE AT THE SAME TIME because I a) pay attention to the canon b) don’t stan my own faves so hard that I treat everyone else’s like garbage c) don’t turn everything into a conspiracy theory against my faves d) actually take a nuanced and balanced position as possible in my metas where my faves pov isn’t the only pov in existence. Oh no, the horror, what a traitor, I must only think this way because I’m a [Sam][Dean][Cas][Jack] stan.
I’m tired of people who wank on meta writers as delusional even though we get canon right and understand it 500% better than they do then turning around when we’re proven right again and again to go “oh ok but Dabbnatural doesn’t count as canon anyway so there neener” yet it’s considered canon when it’s time to bash the meta writers. I’m sick of Sam v Dean wars while stans of both lanes pretend they don’t do the same shit to the other brother, incessantly, season after season since the very beginning, I’m sick of Cas stans who think they’re the one shining light of sanity in spn fandom who have sunk down to rhetoric and behavior lately that barely distinguishes them from the brosonlies who attacked and bullied them for so long.
You want to reject Dabb era from your personal canon be my guest. You want to engage in reasonable constructive critique I won’t say a word.
But my personal nerves have been stomped on one too many times just this morning alone and I don’t expect standom to care about my feelings or personal backstory or how spn fandom has banged on my personal traumas harder than anything canon could ever do, has upset and even triggered me at times more than canon ever could, but I certainly care. Oh did spn disappoint you? Not nearly as much as much of spn fandom has hurt and disappointed me, let’s swap scar stories. Enjoy your fixated haterage against a tv show you used to love that disappointed you. If people had any common sense they would back off instead of trying to make every spn fandom space a misery for anyone who disagrees with them and punish each other for caring about the characters we relate to because it’s the wrong brother or it’s an angel instead of a Winchester or a Winchester instead of just an angel or whatever stupid wanky reason to be an endless baiting pile of wankbait has crawled up people’s butts this week.
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universalcatprr · 4 years
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Is that BuzzFeed article accurate? No.
Is Jack's girlfriend racist? Not exactly. Did she said "Japanese f*** up everything"? Yes. Did she made a Japanese accent? Yes. Not gonna deny it. About the first one was telling a misadventure with her return from Japan. Yeah, that she lived there may not be the best justification, but at the same time shw wouldn't stay with people that f*** up everthing? More than racist Gab just been a little rude because probably it caused her problems. About the second, then at this point we should punish all the comedians that AS JOKE imitates other accents. Like when people imitate Super Mario and make the Italian accent. Why nobody think it's racist when people imitate Mario or when Mark (Markiplier) makes it (especially recently in Unus Anus)? Why nobody punish the veiled racism PewDiePie caused to Indians for his battle again T-Series? Seem just no sense raging against someone famous for fun sometimes using double standards. Because there are people that made way worse or the same but they are okay, tho, Jack and his girlfriend are two separated minds.
Coronavirus joke: This prove that article is build just to tear someone famous down. How jump from racism to this? Like, trying to compare two things that have nothing in common? About the joke made from Jack to Mark(iplier), where Mark tastefully laugh, there's not much to say. Mark said he felt like he was getting sick due to a runny nose, and Jack claimed Mark got the coronavirus. Mark is Korean on his mom side and the virus came from Asia, we have no proof Jack plained to say the joke with that meaning. If one of the other two Muyskerm and Lordminion777, both American, would say that had a runny nose that joke would been popped out anyway. We will never know, but in the meantime jump to conclusions is inappropriate.
The LGBT+ fobia is fake: Jack says continuously to love whoever you want, made charity live stream for LGBT+, made LGBT+ themed clothing line.. now become an homophobe for choose as editor someone that when was 16 (everyone made mistakes as teen) said homophobic and sexist things? Would you like to be judged for what you did in the past? Like you will always be that person forever without a chance of change? About the Wanking Simulator he apologized and deleted the video, isn't it enough? Think that PewDiePie made the shocked face and knowing how bad that was posted that anyway and just give an a** apologize for an "incident" he could avoid. I have to clear that Jack makes different charity livestreams each month for different causes, is normal that after june didn't make an LGBT+ charity livestream.
The Jacksepticeye cult: The people that think we are a yes mens chamber are ridiculous. Specially if people hide their hate behid the word "opinion”. As I just show they are just sad frustrated people that are trying to destroy someone famous when what did doesn't depends directly from him. Just think that the people that wrote the previous BuzzFeed article are the same that go under the fan posts and Jack's girlfriend cyberbullying them. Easy cry when they know that we left behind for their attitude. This is destructive criticism, not opinions or criticism.
Jacksepticeye makes favouritism. FAKE! Jack reblogged (till he stopped using Tumblr) 79 different users on February and 59 different users on January. The account most reblogged on January is turquoisemagpie (4 times) and on February Easy-Hard (5 times).
The gifts incident: Immagine someone spend a lot of time making a gift, how you would tell that can't keep it risking of hurting people feelings? Would you do that? Maybe this is have the less selfish propose of all, not hurt people feelings. But you know, people are so good at manipulate things and make jackt look bad. He should had said that? He should't? Depends from people to people.
Tea blogs should stop victimize themselves. As previously mentioned people made the situation bigger and embellish it as they like. If they want to be accepted they should stop be drama queens and show facts.
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Before This Dance Is Through V
Tumblr media
Chapter: 5/16
Rating: M (Smut Warning)
Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.
Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn
Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney
AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here
Despite what John had suggested, Ringo didn't go back to The Helter Skelter the following week; he'd considered it when John sent him yet another late night text but ultimately decided it wasn't the best idea. Spike had been playing on his mind daily and Ringo wasn't sure he was prepared to face him again. Instead he focused on his drumming and searched for a few more students to teach, which were fairly easy to find. Usually Ringo enjoyed his time off, he understood he was lucky that he didn't have to work a 9-5 job just to get by, but recently he wanted his fill his time up as much as possible, to distract himself.
One of his new students seemed incredibly interested in him, they'd spent an hour just chatting in his living room before they'd even moved over to the drum kit. Ringo wasn't too fussed, he was getting paid by the hour so wasting time was beneficial to him but he didn't want to give the guy the wrong impression. He was a little bit older and attractive enough but Ringo simply wasn't interested.
"Why didn't you just go for it?" John had asked him when they next met up.
"I dunno..." Ringo mumbled, but a part of him knew very well.
He'd given the guy another lesson since then and it became clear that the guy's interest in him wasn't going away any time soon. Ringo felt bad about the whole thing, wasn't he just doing exactly what Spike was doing to him? He tried to act as professional as possible the second time around in attempt to get the guy to back off, considering he hadn't heard from him since he was hoping it had worked. What was wrong with him? Was he really going to make himself suffer like this all because of one guy? And not just any guy, a stripper who had shown absolutely no interest in him at all. It was ridiculous, he kept telling himself, but no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he had to get over Spike, he would still think about him every day without fail. Trying to distract himself with clients had been working somewhat, but it had been difficult, especially when his best friend was John Lennon.
       youre gonna love me
The text came through when Ringo was sat in a café getting some lunch. He'd finished with one of his younger students, a sweet girl who's parents had tried to convince her to try a more 'ladylike' instrument but she had promised only to give up the drums if she was awful; much to her delight, and Ringo's for being able to prove the stereotypical parents wrong, she was pretty good. Seeing her always put Ringo in a good mood, the parents mostly stayed away partly due to the noise but mostly due to disappointment, which meant they could joke around together. Ringo could tell she admired him and he welcomed it gladly, one of the best things about teaching was inspiring others, at least for him it was.
        do i not already?
        well yes         but youre gonna love me EVEN more
        what have you done
        well i happened to stop by the club last night
        oh god what did you do
        wow is that how little you trust me
        can you blame me
        suppose not         ANYWAY i got talking to paulie
        surprise surprise
        do you want the good news or not???
        fine fine sorry
        AS I WAS SAYING i was talking to paulie         and he told me that your special little someone has an onlyfans account
        first of all fuck you for calling him that         second of all wtf is onlyfans
        oh sorry i didnt realise you werent living in the 21st century
        ......         care to grace me with your knowledge?
        basically its a website where you can post exclusive stuff for ONLY FANS to see         its not a porn site or anything but its basically where people sell their nudes         MEANING spike has an account so you can totally see loads of raunchy filthy perverted pics of him
        but i have to pay?
        well weve all gotta make a living
        i can basically see him naked for free
        but this way you wont get all freaked out and embarrassed         well you will but nobody will know at least         so do you want the link or not???
Ringo paused for a few moments, he was gripping his phone tightly in both of his hands as he unblinkingly looked at John's words. If his mind was going to decide to make him suffer by enabling his intense interest in Spike, he may as well get something out of it.
        fine
        where are your manners richard??
        can i please have the link to the strippers nude photos please john please
        alright calm down         let me know if its worth while i might have a look
        idk if im even gonna look at it         paying for porn is a little dated
        treat yourself ringo         id offer to pay but im broke
        if youre broke why were you at the strip club last night?
        well SOMEONE had to go
        they really didnt
        im supporting my local economy
        i dont think thats how that works
        sure it is         anyway here you go
Ringo stared at the link for a while, his eyes even began to blur, he didn't want to risk opening it in public even though he knew there was little chance of anyone seeing. He finished his lunch in a hurry and headed home quickly, only when he was in the privacy of his bedroom did he dare open it. First he had to make an account, when he saw the screen loading up asking for an email address and password he just turned his screen off and put the phone down. This was far too much effort for something he shouldn't really have been doing in the first place. But it only took a few minutes for him to pick the phone back up and begin signing up, he used an old email as it felt less seedy that way and he didn't want to risk his name cropping up anywhere for Spike to see. Now he could load up the link properly and take a proper look at Spike's profile.
Just looking at the small profile picture was enough to startle Ringo a little, the dark eyes looking into the camera with that unreadable glimmer behind them. He was shirtless in the picture, Ringo wondered why that didn't catch his attention first, with the frame cutting off just before it showed anything too explicit. The header was a photo taken from the club, showing him in tight, leather pants and tassels on his nipples which matched the whip he held in his hand. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He'd spent so much time and effort trying not to think about this man, attempting to keep him out of his mind as much as possible. Ringo knew that if he went through with this all that progress would be lost, he'd be giving in to whatever strange obsession he'd developed for Spike, one that no doubt wasn't going to lead to anything good.
Ringo kept staring at the screen as though it was going to tell him what he should do. Spike's profile had no description, which wasn't very surprising, and it dashed any hope Ringo had of discovering something new about him. Right before he was about to put his phone down again, it vibrated.
        howd the wank go??
        john i dont care how long weve been friends asking how my wank was will always be weird
        youre right sorry         so how did it go???
        if you must know         i havent had a wank         i havent even paid for entry
        now whos the one being inappropriate??
        ha ha
        why havent you???
        feels weird
        oh i see         youll consume a bunch of unethical porn for free but god forbid you actually give sex workers any actual money
        you are the last person who can lecture me about unethical porn
        hey now watch yourself         ringo if you dont get a subscription I WILL
        go ahead
        and ill tell you every day what sexy sexy pictures hes posting         ill tell you EVERY SINGLE TIME i have a wank over them
        every time? i dont think youve got enough data for that
        im not joking
        neither am i         you wank A LOT
        ringooooo just buy it i swear to god         if its not worth it or you regret it or whatever ill give you the money back
        on top of the money you already owe me?
        have you always been such a capitalist
        youre not doing a very good job of convincing me
        fine         spikes cock         now are you convinced???
        maybe
        naked pictures of spike whenever and wherever you want them all for the low low price of 10 quid a month         convinced??
        fine fine         if itll shut you up
        im starting to think thats code for 'i really wanna do this but im too embarrassed to admit it'
        i hate you
        now that DEFINITELY code for 'john youre right'         anyway theres no time to be telling me how right i am all the time youve got dick pics to look at         even i wont stand in the way of a good wank         so dont bother replying to me until youve paid for that subscription young man
        im older than you
        DONT BOTHER REPLYING
Ringo let out a sigh and rested his head against the bedroom wall from where he was laying on the bed. He opened up the link again and his thumb hovered over the subscription button, why couldn't he just do it? The money wasn't an issue, it could've cost half as much or be double the price and he'd still be debating it all the same. Somehow it felt like an invasion of privacy, after all Spike hadn't told Ringo about it himself, but then again that didn't necessarily mean he didn't want Ringo to see it. After all it was like John said: everyone has to make a living somehow. Sometimes Ringo wished he could turn off that part of his brain that was so empathetic, so concerned about how everyone felt and what they were thinking. He knew that he wanted this, so why wasn't he allowing himself to have it? Ringo could see that he was being ridiculous, as he was with almost anything involving Spike, and after lying there for a while pondering and debating he decided to flip a coin. Heads would mean he got the subscription, tails that he didn't. He watched the coin spinning through the air after he flicked it upwards, then snatched it and slammed it down onto his forearm before slowly moving his hand away: it was tails. What a relief. Ringo chuckled to himself for being so foolish, settling down into his bed; it was still only around midday but he didn't have anywhere he needed to be.
So why didn't he feel relieved in the slightest?
This whole thing was getting tiring, the constant debate between what he believed he should do and what he wanted to do, and it seemed like it wasn't going to be ending anytime soon. Apparently he was in this for the long run, whatever that meant, but if he was going to turn down relatively attractive guys practically throwing themselves at him, he may as well go all the way. While he was putting in his credit card information, he stopped to think around three of four times, but once he'd finished and the images became accessible to him, his brain was barely able to conjure up a coherent sentence.
"Jesus..." Ringo breathed out as his eyes flicked across the plethora of pictures loading up on his screen.
There was a lot of them, and a lot of Spike was on display. Most of them were pictures taken at the club, either from a professional photographer in the audience or photos he'd taken himself in the mirrors backstage - Ringo could even see glimpses of Paul in the background of some of them. The ones that caught Ringo's eyes the most were those that seemed to be taken in his house, these also happened to be the ones in which Spike tended to be fully naked. It was very different experience to see him like this: a static image that he'd intentionally taken of himself and posted for so many people to see, an image that couldn't look back at Ringo and make him feel that strange mixture of excitement and shame. He began scrolling down the feed which only revealed more and more enticing photos. Ringo began to feel himself hardening, he suspected it had been happening for a while now but he'd been far too distracted to notice. He felt like a teenager discovering porn for the first time, it was difficult to remind himself that this wasn't anything new. Seeing Spike naked shouldn't have excited him so much, and yet it did.
One picture in particular drew Ringo's attention: Spike was stood in front of a bathroom mirror with a loose black tie lying against his bare chest, one hand was holding a phone and the other gripping his cock. He had dark eye make up on and his hair was messy. Ringo wasn't sure exactly what it was about this photo that was so enticing but he couldn't take his eyes off it. The prominence of his collarbones, the faint curls of his dark hair, how his slim fingers wrapped around himself. Slowly Ringo slid his own hand under the waistband of his boxers as he stared at the picture. At first he hesitated, his fingers stopped right above the base. It's not like this would've been the first time he'd touched himself while thinking about Spike, it would've been far from the last he imagined, but this was different. It was more concrete, more of an admission. Nothing felt quite as real when it's only being imagined, the haziness of lust fuzzing up the mind as it so often did, but now with a very real photo of Spike in front of him - which he'd paid to see - the feeling was far more tangible, far harder to ignore.
He'd come this far, he told himself as his hand sunk lower until his fingers were running along the length of his semi-hard cock, he may as well go all the way. To begin with Ringo stayed looking at this single picture as he slowly pumped himself, but as his lust began to grow he perused through more and more pictures: Spike kneeling naked in front of a mirror with a loose cigarette hanging from his lips, lying in the bath with bubbles only just about covering his nakedness, spread out on the bed with a gag in his mouth, handcuffs forcing his slim arms behind his back with his cock throbbing. None of this was anything Ringo hadn't seen before, like most people in this day and age he'd searched through the darker corners of the internet - sometimes willingly, sometimes John was to blame - but to see Spike in such a way was like an entirely new rush. Each picture drove Ringo further and further on, at times he almost dropped his phone with how sloppy his movements were becoming. Who took these photos? Ringo figured it was best not to think about it, the possibility that Spike had a boyfriend who took all these pictures of him would've been the quickest way to kill his erection.
Ringo began moaning and cursing wantonly as he got closer and closer to his orgasm, he had to stop flicking through the pictures because he could hardly concentrate on what his other hand was doing, so he settled on a final one to help him finish; it wasn't particularly strategic but he was definitely grateful that he selected the one that he did. In it Spike was looking directly into the camera, allowing Ringo to gaze longingly into the rich brown of his eyes and how his dark lashes curled beautifully around them. He was shirtless with nothing but a necklace on, the same necklace that Ringo had seen him wearing in the record store and Ringo couldn't help feeling a sense of satisfaction that he'd seen it with his own eyes, as though it meant something. Deep down he knew that it didn't but his inebriated mind was latching onto it. The nudity in the photo was hardly interesting Ringo by this point, although it would be wrong to say that he completely ignored the flatness of his stomach or the faint shadows of his ribs beneath his pale skin, it was the personal aspect which truly affected him.
This wasn't just lust. Lust Ringo could understand, he could compartmentalise it and give into it without much shame or a second thought. If this was just lust, he would've bought the subscription without a care and touched himself looking at the nakedness of Spike's body as though it meant nothing more than a way to get off. Yet here he was on the brink of orgasm looking into another man's eyes, eyes that felt like they were looking straight back at him as though they were sharing this moment together. It wasn't hard to imagine Spike's hand in place of his own, those deep eyes watching Ringo come undone piece by piece. Ringo's hip began to stutter, his leg twitching a little as he had to drop the phone down onto his lap as his head fell back against his pillow as his orgasm approached. It wasn't the image of Spike's naked body that filled Ringo's mind as he came, it wasn't his arse or his cock or even his chest, it was his face, his voice, it was him.
Ringo lay breathless on his bed for a while, the clarity that arrived as his orgasm subsided wasn't welcome in the slightest and he was reluctant to pick his phone back up to see Spike's eyes looking at him once again. There was no use in feeling ashamed about it, no point in trying to deny it any longer: his feelings for Spike were more than a mere passing fancy, that was clear. Exactly what he was meant to do about these feelings was far from clear but that wasn't something Ringo could figure out right now with cum on his stomach and the daylight seeping through his bedroom curtains.
When he'd picked up his phone he'd closed all the apps immediately, doing his best not to catch a glimpse of what he'd been so eagerly looking at before. Just as he was about to step into the shower to clean himself off, his phone buzzed; he almost couldn't hear it over the music he was blasting out. It alerted him for a moment as though it was going to be a message from Spike stating he knew exactly what Ringo had just done - it wouldn't have really surprised him had that been the case, Spike's face almost always looked like he knew something that nobody else did - but fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it was John.
        sooo how did the wank go
         who knows          but on a totally unrelated note im about to get into the shower
         well before you do that i have even more good news 
         can it not wait?
         NO because you might cum just at the thought of it and then youd be wasting a good shower
         well arent you considerate          and unnecessarily graphic
         thats me          anyway im taking you to the club next tuesday whether you like it or not
         im still waiting for the good news
         well if youd let me FINISH          next week theyre doing a special event and we just have to go          youll never guess what it is
         what is it?
         guess
         you just said ill never guess
         youre no fun
         WHAT IS IT
         alright alright keep your hair on          its a crossdressing event          high heels make up probably a few wigs all that good stuff
         im still waiting for the good news
         OH COME ON youre telling me you dont want to see spike in heels and fishnets with some lovely lipstick on
Ringo gulped. It wasn't a difficult image to conjure up his mind, considering he'd been staring at photos of Spike for the past twenty minutes and it excited him to say the least. He did want to see that, very much indeed.
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emospritelet · 4 years
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Sutherelle : 24 - “We can have our own Christmas party”
I made it Sutheracey, so I could get these two idiots laid. Hope you don’t mind. Please excuse the utter ridiculousness of this fic but Lacey is very, very bad and I’m having fun with her XD
[Part 1] [Part 2] [AO3]
x
The kitchens at Chequers held a large supply of candles, and Lance provided a torch with surprising speed in order to locate them, so it wasn’t too long before Sutherland could see what he was doing. Within reason, anyway. He had moved from his study to the library, where a fire had been lit, and had poured himself a glass of whisky. Lacey was leaning against the desk, still clutching her open bottle of champagne, and he couldn’t be bothered to tell her to bugger off. Besides, the library was at least warm, and he had nowhere to send her with the snow blanketing the roads around them. The rest of the party guests had gotten out just in time, it seemed.
Lance’s shift had finished, but Sergeant David Nolan had taken over, and Sutherland had tasked him with finding out what was going on with the power loss. It turned out that the whole of the estate and the nearby villages were also dark, and Nolan said that the storm had knocked out power lines.
“It won’t be fixed tonight, sir,” he said. “No way anyone can get out in this weather, and it’s likely the roads will be impassable tomorrow.”
“Understood,” said Sutherland. “Keep me posted.”
“Sir.” Nolan eyed Lacey with a bemused look on his face. “I’ll - uh - be outside, sir.”
He stepped outside the door, closing it behind him. There was silence, but for the crackle and snap from the fire, and Sutherland looked at Lacey. Firelight danced, sending flickering shadows and bursts of warm light around the room. It highlighted the smooth curves of her cheeks and shone in her eyes.
“Well,” he said. “I’m sorry you’re trapped here, Miss French.”
“I’m not,” she said. “And it’s Lacey.”
“I should see about getting you a bed for the night,” he said. “The guest rooms are always ready.”
“What about yours?” she said.
He wanted to shiver at the low note of promise in her voice, and wanted to click his tongue in exasperation. She’s probably not even talking about getting in your bed, she’s telling you to get to bed. Stop letting your cock rule your bloody brain! 
“I’m not tired yet,” he said simply.
“People don’t just go to bed when they’re tired.”
She was smiling, her eyes gleaming with gold in the light from the candles and the crackling fire. He licked his lips nervously, feeling his cock twitch with interest. Lacey let her tongue wet her lips, making them glisten, and he looked away before he could grow fully hard. Damn the woman! Okay, she’s doing this on purpose! She knows exactly what she’s doing to me! 
More silence. Sutherland paced back and forth in front of the fire, wondering what to do with her, and discarding every suggestive notion his lust-fuelled brain was coming up with. You should probably just go to bed. Leave her down here. Nolan will show her to a guest room, she doesn’t need you here to entertain her. Go to bed, you idiot! Go to bed, have a fucking frenzied wank, and get it out of your system! 
When he looked around, Lacey was slowly pulling the pins from her hair. He had opened his mouth to tell her Nolan would show her to a room, but the words died in his throat as he watched her tilt her head back, exposing the pale length of her throat as she raked fingers through her hair. separating it into gleaming curls that bounced around her shoulders as she looked up. His pulse throbbed in his throat, and Lacey locked her gaze onto his, her lips parted a little. He could see her chest rise and fall with her breath, blue sequins glittering, and he was aware that he was staring with his mouth open. He snapped it shut, and Lacey tilted her head as she held up the champagne bottle.
“You want to help me drink this?” she asked.
“N-no thank you, I’ll stick with whisky.” He rubbed at the spot just above his left eye, where he could feel a headache forming. He probably shouldn’t be drinking at all with Lacey there to tangle his wits, but whisky in the evenings was something of a ritual. “Go ahead.”
“I don’t have a glass.”
“There are glasses in the cabinet over there.”
“It’s cool, I’ll just drink out of the bottle, I ain’t proud.”
Lacey slammed the bottom of the champagne bottle down on the desk, making him jump, and a gout of white foam spurted out of the open neck. She bent her head, letting the foam squirt into her mouth and run over her lips, sucking at the neck of the bottle. Sutherland felt his eyes widen at the sight of it, his cock swelling as his mind took the image and ran with it, as he imagined that sweet mouth wrapped around him, sucking him hard and drawing him deep. She let out a tiny moan, and straightened up, white foam running over her chin before she wiped it off with a thumb and sucked it clean. He swallowed hard, and Lacey sent him a tiny, secret smile.
“Oops,” she said.
She’s trying to kill me. She’s actually trying to kill me.
“Uh - you said you were at university earlier,” he said desperately. “What are you studying?”
Lacey pursed her lips, pushing herself up onto the desk on the heels of her hands.
“What would you say if I told you it was politics?”
“I’d say you don’t strike me as the political type,” he said dryly, and she sniffed.
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m doing a Master’s in Global Environment, Politics and Society.”
Sutherland raised an eyebrow.
“Really?”
“What’s the matter?” she said flatly. “You were expecting me to be an airhead?”
“No, not at all,” he said, lifting his glass to take a sip. “I just had you pegged for something on the arts side, like English, or journalism.”
“Want me to peg you?”
Sutherland choked, spraying whisky, and Lacey bit her lip to hold in her amusement. He coughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and feeling his cheeks heat.
“Suit yourself,” she said. “The offer stands. I’ll even bring the lube.”
“Are you intentionally going all out to make me feel out of my depth, or is this just how you interact with everyone?” he demanded, and Lacey shrugged, one shoulder rising and falling.
“I think you’re probably surrounded by people telling you what you want to hear all day,” she said. “It’s good to mix things up a little.”
“Clearly you haven’t attended any Cabinet meetings,” he muttered.
“No, but maybe I will in the future,” she said. “My dissertation’s on the Climate and Renewable Energy Bill and the studies and political pressures that led to its drafting,” She lifted her glass. “Maybe one day you and I will be sitting around a table in a briefing room.”
“I suspect it would be the Minister for Climate and Environmental Protection, rather than me,” he said. “And I wish them the best of bloody luck with you.”
Lacey chuckled.
“Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t had fun this evening.”
Surprisingly, he realised he had. Despite feeling as though he hadn’t the faintest idea what was happening to him, it was exhilarating. Perhaps that was the reason. Perhaps she was right; every waking moment of his life had been mapped out and organised since he entered 10 Downing Street. It was almost refreshing not to have a bloody clue what the rest of the night would hold.
“Why did you stay here?” he asked. “Why hide away until everyone else had gone?”
Lacey sent him a puzzled look.
“Don’t you know?”
He stared at her, unwilling to say anything in case he had read her very, very wrong, and Lacey sighed.
“I want to have sex with you,” she said. “Please don’t lie and say I’ve been subtle, because I absolutely haven’t.”
Sutherland stared at her, trying to swallow past the lump in his dry throat. He took a sip of whisky to help.
“No,” he said hoarsely. “Subtle is not a word I would apply to you, Miss French.”
“Glad to hear it,” she said. “We can have our own Christmas party. You up for it?”
He drank the last of the whisky to give himself time to think, but his brain was filled with white noise and was providing him with no answers other than a gentle whisper of how good she would feel. He set the glass down on the mantelpiece.
“You do realise the tabloid press have been trying to catch me in some sort of sex scandal since I came to power?”
Lacey snorted.
“It’s the biggest blizzard in a decade, from what you told me,” she said. “I really doubt any of the paps are camped out in the gardens with a long lens on the camera.”
“I’ve learned you can never be too careful, in my line of work,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.
“This is your place, right?”
“Yes.”
“Staffed by your people.”
“Correct.”
“Who you trust completely.”
“I do.”
“So no one gets in without their say so, right?”
“Again, correct.”
“Then why would you think anyone would ever find out?” she pushed. “This is probably the safest place in the world for you to do something you want to keep secret.”
He hesitated, unable to fault her logic.
“Besides, why is it so wrong?” she added. “We’re both adults.”
“You’re half my age.”
“Does that bother you?”
Sutherland was silent, and Lacey smirked.
“Well then.”
“It would bother some.”
“They’re not here, and given that none of them are gonna give me a mind-blowing orgasm, I don’t give a flying fuck what they think.”
He chuckled at that.
“I like your confidence in my abilities,” he remarked. “Probably misplaced, but even so…”
Lacey smirked, and set down her glass, pushing herself off the desk with the heels of her hands and walking towards him with a slow, sensuous sway of her hips. He felt his heart thump in his chest as she drew nearer, until they were almost touching, and her eyes locked onto his. One hand rested against his chest, fingers walking up his silk tie, pressing gently, one by one. 
“You strike me as the kind of man with a great deal of energy and attention to detail,” she said, her voice a low purr. “Those are excellent qualities in a lover.”
“Is that what we are?”
“We could be, if you stopped over-analysing everything and kissed me.”
“Really?” he growled, and her smile grew, fingers tightening around the tie and tugging his head down to meet hers.
“Really,” she whispered.
He lifted a hand to cup her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his palm.
“Fuck it!” he whispered, and her smile grew.
“That’s the spirit.”
His mouth found hers, and she moaned as his tongue pushed inside, her taste sweet from the champagne, her mouth hot and wet. One hand slid up into the short strands of his hair, her touch sending shivers through him, and he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him. It had been years since he’d had a good, long snog, and he’d forgotten how pleasant it was, how arousing to feel the press of a warm body against his and the intimacy of putting his tongue inside someone. His cock was a rigid line in his pants, pressing against the fabric of his boxers, and Lacey pushed against him, moving her hips to grind in a slow circle. It made him gasp into her mouth, and she broke the kiss, lips wet with saliva and both of them breathing hard. She smiled, a slow curve of her mouth, eyes flicking up to meet his.
“Gonna take me upstairs?” she whispered, and he nodded.
“If you want.”
“I do.” Her hand tightened on his tie, and she nuzzled his nose with hers. “Like I said. I never saw a candy cane I didn’t want to suck.”
She kissed him again, and Sutherland groaned into her mouth, the kiss growing messy and frenzied. Maybe he’d tell Nolan to stay downstairs for once.
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gravitasfalls · 4 years
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A rant on fandom etiquette, the GF fandom, and what they did 4 years ago (and now)
By now, my “bullshit” tag has refuted most of the ridiculous hot takes, fun policing, and harassment that fans of Stanford Pines have had to face from the wider Gravity Falls fandom. But these rebuttals fall short of naming the real problem with anti-Ford wank: we never should have seen it in the first place.
People might have genuinely forgotten this, but fandom used to have etiquette against character hate. We called it “wank” and “bashing” instead of dignifying it as “discourse”. As late as 2014, fandoms on this very site had “X hate” or “anti-X” tagging systems for blacklisting, as courtesy to people who liked X thing...
...a far cry from GF fans of 2015 demonizing Ford in the most inexplicable ways, making every post a platform for that, siccing their followers on anyone fully positive about him, then pretending that never happened post-finale as they continue the bashing more insidiously to this day.
Like, what even was that? There’s a lot to unpack in those people’s arguments but let’s just throw out the whole suitcase.
(Under the cut: Snapshots of discourse I shouldn’t have had to put up with over the years, and snark-based coping with that. It gets ugly, you’ve been warned.)
Ford is irredeemable/deserves to suffer, why he didn’t even thank Stan!!1
Thanks I hate it! “It” being your apparent decision that, because you can’t make the fictional character suffer, real people who like him are the next best thing.
Ford is egotistical! Have I mentioned on literally every post I think his only trait is “egotistical”?
You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means. But while that is just, like, your opinion man, you’re entitled to it on your own posts; you’re falsely entitled about it by forcing it on dissenters’ posts and inboxes.
*dumps negativity into inboxes anyway*
Your Hot Takes have disturbed and insulted me. You fools are unworthy of my great knowledge. The era of human enlightenment shall never come to pass.
You really think Ford is some kind of hero?
Only after you told me I wasn’t Allowed to see him as one and I Examined My Desires™ like you demanded! Funny how critical thinking ≠ agreeing with you.
Ford is your favorite? WHY DO YOU HATE MABEL.
Better question, why are you copying “WHY DO YOU HATE AMERICA” logic? 9/11 did fan drama I swear
Ford is NOT PURE OF HEEEAAART, so you have to Constantly Explicitly Acknowledge his Sins and interrogate what relating to him says about you.
I got no friends ‘cause they read the papers. It’s funny, actually, projecting onto him got me dangerously close to processing some negative experiences from my past... good thing I have you here to shut those thoughts down <3 Thanks for saving me from myself uwu
If you just want to project onto a comfort character in peace, Stan is right there! His lack of fantasy elements makes him more relatable anyway!
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Ford brought Bill’s manipulation on himself!
Damn fandom, back at it again with the GROSS VICTIM BLAMING
FFS why is this take as prominent now as ever??? at least the outlandish criticisms were funny, this one just makes me want to be dead.
Ford is abusive/manipulative because he doesn’t make fun of Dipper/ made a case for his apprenticeship/ called Mabel good/ complimented her personality!
(Yes, people did these mental gymnastics; yes, my soul left my body instantly.)
STOP trying to justify Ford’s actio-ma’am this is an Arby’s. also:
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Ford is the Epitome of Toxic Masculinity, if you defend him either he’s your Male Power Fantasy or you’re a ditzy fangirl broad with ovaries for brains!
Ah yes, the two genders. Pack it in, everyone, we’ve reached peak feminism and patriarchy is over.
Someone negativity-tagged my Ford post, WTF?! I’m not “anti-Ford”, I’m “pro Ford-learning-a-lesson”!
And pro his-fans-never-having-a-moment-of-peace, apparently! Sorry I assumed you were a hater by your complete lack of positive things to say about him tho
Ford is a sociopath/deserves death for having no empathy!
"Tumblr is as ableist as any majority-conservative site," I say into the mic. The crowd boos. I begin to walk off in shame, when a voice speaks and commands silence from the room. "You’re right," they say. I look for the owner of the voice. There in the 3rd row stands: tumblr.
*Dozens of 10000+ note posts calling Ford stupid, manipulative, solely at fault for everything that went wrong, other inanities*
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(This is the fandom that made me get Xkit. I’m sure hundreds of my 1000+ blocked posts are theirs.)
If you like Ford on any terms but ours then I’m sorry, but Gravity Falls just isn’t for you, k?
I don’t have a flippant response to this one. Just... stop. No one has to agree with you about this character; no, nor with me. No one even has to engage with fandom moralistically; I promise it wouldn’t hurt anyone if I were to watch this show without having to Interrogate its Morality. It wouldn’t even hurt if people voiced character hate within reasonable bounds of tagging, as I’ve said. But instead they spread it like the plague in the name of Purity and insinuated (using ages-old “ur a fake fan!!1″ no less) that we don’t get to have outlets. I’m tired.
Look at my hilarious/satisfying art of Ford saying OOC strawman things, Stan beating him up, the kids turning their backs on him! (Srsly look at it I’ve put it in all the tags)
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You’re madness, Gravity Falls fandom. Virulent madness. And everything you touch dies with you.
This is only a fraction of shit we’ve had to wade through, practically every day while the show was running. You couldn’t avoid it if you followed popular blogs. I saw the best meta writers of my fandom dogpiled by BNFs, dragging themselves through the blue hellsite at dawn looking for a fix-it fix. And people now expect me to believe it was “just Discourse” or that anything equivalent happened “in reverse” toward Stan. If I didn’t know better that they don’t know better, I’d call gaslighting.
I don’t expect to change anything. In fact, until this blog’s next go-around I don’t intend on seeking out new content anymore. I can’t keep looking at a fandom where the consensus on a canonically abused character’s victimization is that it was stupid, funny, a moral failing, or deserved, and expect anything to improve.
But to anyone else these people hurt: your anger or upset is valid, and I’m sorry. None of us deserved this. And I’m not letting it follow me into the next decade and make me forget why I liked this show in the first place, even if the only way to do that right now is cut off from the fandom a bit. I’m telling you, it never should have come to that. I don’t know if negativity-tagging can ever catch on here, considering tumblr has no boundaries by design and fandom no boundaries by choice... but for the sake of everyone who comes next, Gravity Falls fandom, make an effort.
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cuddlemonsterdean · 5 years
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A little Supernatural question, fill-out, thing! Pop the questions into a text post and answer for yourself if you want!
1. When did you start watching Supernatural?
October 2012, when season 8 was airing, and right around the time everything in my life was taking a serious nose-dive that was about to get much worse. honestly if i hadn’t found it then, i don’t know if i’d still be here at all.
i didn’t even have an account yet so i was browsing someone’s blog that had stuff from all kinds of fandoms on it. around that time i had been lurking in the batman fandom for a bit but it wasn’t really doing it for me so i was looking for something new to obess over. i kept seeing gifsets and stuff from spn, so i thought i’d give it a go. the first ep i watched was Lazarus Rising, and within not even 10 minutes i knew that this was it
2. Who is your favorite in TFW? 
I just love dean so much - he means everything to me. he’s taught me so much, he makes me happy, he inspires me. he makes me be brave when i don’t wanna be
3. Who is your least favorite in TFW? 
that’s a weird question??? i might not blog about them as much but i don’t dislike sam or cas. honestly it makes me sad when people (as in, fans) try to pitch tfw against each other
4. Tag your top 5 Supernatural blogs! 
i don’t follow a whole lot of people because i’m cautious of wank and stan wars and such but i love having @postmodernmulticoloredcloak @wigglebox @jensensitive @dotthings @occamshipper @mittensmorgul @deathswaywardson and @softcuddlydean on my dash :) (...that’s eight already. and i probably forgot someone. i’m not good with numbers okay!! o(>.<)o)
5. Who is your favorite character (not including TFW)?
it’s so hard to pick one but - Donna!!! i love her so much, she’s so upbeat and fun too watch but she has depth too and layers and i’ve really enjoyed how they’ve developed her as a character. i kind of look up to her :)
6. Who is your favorite woman in Supernatural? 
basically the same as above but - honestly all of the women are awesome
7. John or Mary? 
i don’t like this vs trend but Mary. maybe she’s difficult to love, but i personally really appreciate the decisions they made regarding her character and her character development, that she wasn’t this perfect mother dean remembered. i’ve never, ever, been able to relate to a mother child dynamic on tv before mary and dean. oftentimes mothers are portrayed as either perfect or evil, and to see this struggle, this gray area - it meant a lot to me, it was really powerful. i in general appreciate the message that it’s possible to both love and hate your parents at the same time, and that it’s something that’s just allowed to be that way
8. What were your first opinions of Sam, Dean, Cas, and Jack? 
i honestly don’t really remember. it’s also difficult because i already had half a foot in fandom and was also watching season 8 while it aired while also playing catch up on season 1-7 at the same time. with jack, i remember that i really appreciated alexander calvert’s acting choices, because he did this blend of innocent and ominous/threatening so well
9. What’s your favorite season? 
if you’d asked me this during season 13, i’d have said season 13, but now it’s definitely season 14 (for now, since 15 just started airing). the michael storyline was like my favorite ever (and inspired my to write what i think is, so far, my best deancas longfic), but also overall the season was so neat and fascinating thematically
10. What’s your least favorite season? 
i don’t really have one, though i’d say while rewatching the entire show over the summer i found season 6 the hardest to get through. not even because of everything that goes down with cas but like - the one and only good thing that happens to team free will there was getting sam’s soul back, and even that had painful repercussions. there is some really interesting stuff in there, but overall it was hard to watch
11. Opinions on Destiel? 
it’s canon. like - if someone tries to tell me it’s not i have to assume they’re being willfully ignorant on the subject (of course it’s perfectly fine not to ship it and stuff but arguing its very existence is kind of ridiculous at this point)
12. Do you believe Supernatural queerbaits? 
no. honestly i kind of feel like that word gets thrown around so quickly and so frequently people have forgotten what queerbaiting actually is and what it is not, and that’s done some serious damage
13. Seasons 1-7 or 8-14?
again with the vs thing but - 8-14. dean and sam finally have a bigger family and an actual home, that alone always makes me gravitate more to the later seasons
14. Favorite villain (plot wise)? 
Michael (big surprise XD). i enjoyed him so much, especially since he foreshadows what dean’s going through in regards to chuck/god rn
15. Do you think they should end the Lucifer plot line? 
don’t know when this questionaire was made - i think it’s over, and they did well with it
16. Who do you think has gone through more trauma (Sam, Dean, or Cas)? 
honestly, i think with trauma, we shouldn’t compare it like that. they’ve all been traumatized repeatedly - sometimes in similiar ways, but even then everyone reacts differently. it’s not fair to do comparisons, and it doesn’t help either
17. What’s your favorite Supernatural episode? 
i used to say i’m married to The Executioner’s Song, then Tombstone aired and i had the time of my life, and then Nihilism aired - and that ep was like everything i’ve ever wanted. i bet @postmodernmulticoloredcloak can still remember me spamming them via text while watching - which took me like two hours because i kept screaming about everything basically XD
18. Do you like case episodes? 
i love them
19. Who do you relate most to in TFW? 
dean. for all the reasons i already stated in 2., but also i’m the oldest daughter and had to protect my younger siblings as a kid (domestic violence situation, among other things). my younger “sister” and i weren’t blood related but i would have died for her, she meant everything to me. plus, dean’s really emotional but has a lot of protective walls that he needs to survive, and i can relate to that as well
20. Why do you like Supernatural? 
too many reasons to list them all. there’s dean, there’s the whole found family trope. the complexity of the characters and their dynamics, the deeply psychological themes than run through the entire narrative. i think you can really tell that the people - actors, writers, directors, crew - really love making the show, and put a lot of effort into it. it’s not a “perfect” show (which doesn’t exist anyway) but it’s made with love. plus we got this amazing cast that cares so much and gives so much, and it really makes you feel less alone, makes you feel seen and heard even if you never meet any of them face to face. it’s genuine, and it’s rare, and i cherish it, just like the show
21. If you could bring back one character and kill off another who would they be? 
hm, i genuinely can’t think of anyone i’d kill off rn. who i’d bring back - benny was awesome and i miss him. also eileen, but apparently we will see her again in some way, so there’s that :)
@wigglebox i did this because you said you’re tagging everyone who wants to do this, so now i’m stealing your move and saying the same! ;D
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