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squish--squash · 10 months

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I'm rewatching Good Omens, and noticed something in the first episode that has left me spiraling into a theory.

It's in the scene when Hastur and Ligur are handing Adam over to Crowley. Hastur asks Crowley to sign something beforehand, and:

I thought it was a scribble the first time I watched it bc I was trying to figure out what was going on. But it's not a scribble.

It's not a 'C' either, for 'Crowley' It's not a 'A' or 'J' either, for the rest of his name.

It's an 'L'. It gets hard to see as he's finishing it, but it's the letter 'L'

This is how you write a capital 'L' in cursive:

you swoop up and to the right, drop down, swoop left, and finish on the right.

and Crowley does this with his signature:

here's him beginning the letter, swooping up and to the right

Then he moves down,

loops to the left,

And finishes it as he moves back towards the right (and at this point, the complete letter is hard to make out. It's why I thought it was a scribble the first time I watched this episode)

Crowley's signature on the document Hastur makes him sign before delivering the Antichrist to start Armageddon, something that is arguably one of the most important things hell wants to document, is an 'L'.

WHY?

Why not a 'C', for Crowley, the name he currently goes by? Hastur and Ligur confirm the name itself earlier in the same scene ("What's he calling himself up here these days?"/"Crowley.")

Well, if going by what he claims in a later s1 episode that "Crowley" is his last name (Anthony J. Crowley), it would make sense for one of his initials to be put there.

Except it doesn't, because "Crowley" is not his real name. it's not the name he began with, the one he had as an angel.

So then, what would this name be? What would be a name for an angel, who is now a demon? A demon who was there to tempt eve, as a snake, into eating the forbidden fruit. Someone that brought the stars, and light, to the universe. A name that begins with the letter 'L'.

There's one I can think of that matches, and that name is Lucifer.

"But Squish!" I know some of y'all will comment, "What about that line Crowley said in episode 5? He mentions Lucifer, so it can't be him!"

In episode 5, Crowley says the following: "I never asked to be a demon. I was just minding my own business one day and then...oh, lookie here, it's Lucifer and the guys! Oh, hey, the food hadn't been that good lately. I didn't have anything on for the rest of that afternoon. Next thing, I'm doing a million-light-year dive into a pool of boiling sulphur."

Crowley also says in the second episode: "I didn't mean to fall. I just hung out with the wrong people."

A lot of people believe that it's implied that when Crowley said this, it meant he met Lucifer and hung out with him. But when he says it, it sounds like he's mockingly quoting someone else, talking to him.

The "Lucifer and the guys!" might've been directed to Crowley, using his name. This would match that line from a previous episode, "hung out with the wrong people."

"But Squish!" I know some of y'all will comment after reading that, "What about Satan? Lucifer is Satan, and Crowley isn't Satan!"

And neither is Beelzebub. Fun fact, by the way: One of the many names for The Devil, Satan himself, is Beelzebub. But Beelzebub is a whole different character. So why can't Lucifer be a whole different character too? After all, many people still argue to this day that Lucifer and Satan aren't one and the same...

Also, here's something interesting:

Crowley is the only character in the tv series that has mentioned Lucifer, and it was in that line I mentioned earlier. Lucifer is also mentioned once, in the book, but by Shadwell, mishearing Newt's last name as "Lucifer" instead of "Pulsifer". And Satan? In both the book and the tv show, he is never called another name other than "Satan", usually followed by his fancy and long title. His description in the book's "DRAMATIS PERSONAE" is literally "fallen angel; the adversary". No Lucifer.

And how about this:

Crowley was the one who started the universe, we see that at the beginning of season 2. He was the first one, to our knowledge, to say "let there be light." "Lucifer" means "light-bringer" Crowley was the snake that tempted eve into eating the apple in the garden of eve. We see this in the beginning of episode one. Many claim Lucifer was the one who did that. Crowley fell because he asked questions about how the universe should be run, after seeing its creation and being so proud of it. Many claim Lucifer's big sin that sent him falling was his pride stemming from his beauty causing him to revolt; eerily similar to Crowley asking questions after watching the beautiful universe he helped plan be born and growing protective after learning it was going to get shut down so early in its lifetime, isn't it? Crowley was a powerful angel. This is heavily implied in season 2, with the tiny joint-miracle he and Aziraphale made being as powerful as an archangel's. He has the ability to mask his presence powerful enough to fool Uriel, Michael, and Gabriel (the only other character we've seen have that kind of masking power was the Metatron, who Crowley was also the first to recognize). When going through records with Muriel, they claim only very high-ranking angels have clearance to look through the records of Gabriel, an archangel so powerful he single-handedly had the power to stop "Armageddon 2" from being put into plan; Crowley is able to access them. And Lucifer? Often described as having been a very powerful angel.

Lucifer is such an important name, such an important character, in the theologies surrounding Good Omens. So, where is he? Why has he only been mentioned seriously once, by Crowley?

The answer could be this, simple and short: Because he is Crowley.

EDIT:

I dug up the book. It's been a while since I read it (I honestly don't remember much from the book) and here's what it has to say about Crowley's signature...

"Your real name."

.........

HELLO?

EDIT 2:

I found this post from Neil Gaiman's blog. The wording is confusing me, and I can't tell if this debunks or supports the theory..

What Neil Gaiman says is "That was the angel Lucifer. He doesn't exist any more. Now there's just Satan, the adversary." which might throw this entire thing out of the window, but the thing is: he never said Satan used to be Lucifer. He just said Lucifer doesn't exist anymore, but Satan does.

Furthermore, the person who first asked a question asks more questions, two of them: 1. Is Satan what's left of Lucifer after he fell and stopped existing, and 2. If so, does that mean there was an angel that existed that then fell and turned into crowley?

Neil Gaiman's answer is "As far as Crowley is concerned, the Angel that he was no longer exists. (And his name as an Angel wasn’t Crawley or Crowley.)"

He doesn't confirm or deny anything about Satan in that. All he said was "the Angel that he was no longer exists" and that Crowley's angel name wasn't his demon name.

Huh. Funny. He's saying angel!crowley no longer exists, when he just revealed that Lucifer "doesn't exist any more." Either there's a connection here, or I'm going insane.

#good omens #good omens 2 #spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #crowley was lucifer theory

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mlm-writer · 11 months

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Tears of Lust (Dick Grayson x M!Reader)

Pairing: Dick Grayson aka Nightwing (YJ ver.) x Demon!Male!Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 3447 POV: Second Summary: If a demon is not majority of their time in hell, they get a rut once a year. You try to keep your human boyfriend out of your ‘weird’ demon things, but Dick has never wanted to be involved more. Note: Writing so many Young Justice fics and I don’t even remember the plot anymore. Should rewatch that some time. Sequel here. Tags: smut, ruts, heavy dacryphilia, we are entering monsterfucker territory, established relationship, super long tongue, anallingus, deep penetration, bit of magic, overstimulation, degradation, slight dumbification (?), maybe a bit humiliation???, breeding, throatfucking, pleasure dom reader, begging, anal fingering, anal fucking, and still sweet I promise, reader is so in looooove

Hell could go fuck itself. The cold of Earth was easy to deal with when you had three blankets wrapped around you. Usually it took that and a thick hoodie to keep you at your preferred temperature, but as your eyes stayed trained on the TV in front of you, sweat gathered on your back. You frowned and removed one of the blankets, only now noticing your leg had been bouncing this whole time. A sigh left you as you saw what time of the year it was again.

You had no time to think about the arrangements you needed to make. You could hear Dick fumble with his keys outside the door. From the way the keys jingled, you could tell he had his hands full of groceries again. You paused the TV with a snap of your fingers and strutted over to the door, blankets around you like a cloak. When you opened the door, you were greeted with the exact sight you were expecting.

Grocery bags hung from Dick’s wrists. You took them all with one hand, the other holding the blankets around you. “Are we hosting a dinner party? Why did you buy so much,” you questioned as you easily carried the bags inside and put them on the kitchen island. You pushed one of the plastic bags open to peer inside, seeing a lot of ice cream inside.

“Because this year, you are spending your rut here with me,” Dick replied in a matter-of-fact tone, like you had already agreed to do that, but you had forgotten. You froze. With a slow breath you turned around to see Dick leisurely taking his shoes off. The idea alone was enough to shorten the time for your rut to arrive.

“Since when do you know about that?” Your words were all carefully picked, spoken slowly with a weight hanging on each of them. When Dick approached you to give you his usual welcome kiss, you took a step back, not allowing him to change the subject.

Dick looked hurt, but his patience seemed to be endless with you. He did not try to get closer and instead walked over to the kitchen island to get started on putting the groceries away. “It is kind of hard not to notice that you have a ‘business trip’ every year around the same time. I did some digging in the Justice League database…” Dick paused, staring at the canned soup in his hand as if it offended him. “Why did you never tell me?” His eyes raised up to meet yours, the look of disappointment no longer directed at the chicken soup, but at you instead.

You swallowed and sat down at one of the barstools, unconsciously picking the one that put some distance between you and your partner. “The ruts just occur because I don’t spend the majority of my time in hell anymore. I know how much you value monogamy, so I just go back and tough it out,” you defended yourself, afraid Dick thought you were secretly fucking people on the side. Now holding a huge bottle of lube, Dick gave you the side eye. You understood immediately that you were not answering his question. “I was afraid you would think it too much. You’ve been dealing with so much. I was afraid another demon thing would be asking too much of you.” You held your head high, owning up to your shortcomings. The fact that Dick had bought all this stuff was enough proof that you had been wrong. “I’m sorry, I should have thought more highly of you.”

Dick sighed, putting down the cup noodles he had just retrieved from one of the plastic bags. “Apology accepted,” he muttered, before looking at you again. He then paused. “But wait, you’re not gonna tell me your rut is dangerous or something? No ‘oh I might lose control and I don’t wanna hurt you’ or something? You’re just going to let me?” You chuckled and shed the blankets, so you could more easily circle the kitchen island to wrap your arms around your lover’s waist.

Dick twisted his head to kiss you and you happily complied. After a short kiss, you started helping Dick with the shopping. “You’ll be fine. I’m centuries old now. I won’t be an unstoppable animal.

The apartment was made rut-proof by Dick and you did not have the heart to tell him that the Justice League database might contain some anti-demon propaganda, because some of the preparations were even beyond your comprehension. Dick had stored away all breakable items. Your cabinets were full of cereal for some reason. What was up with that?

You enjoyed the cold temperature Dick preferred for once as you lounged on the couch with Dick snuggled up beside you. You wanted him ten minutes ago, but he was so cosied up that you felt bad if you were to turn off the TV just to fuck him senseless. You thought you were doing well until Dick spoke up. “You’ve been hard since like five minutes into this episode. When are you carrying me to the bedroom?” He had said it so casually, like he wanted an actual answer like ‘oh around 10pm’ or ‘after this episode ends’. However, you knew better than that. This was your lover’s way of saying ‘take me now’.

You did not even bother turning the TV off. In a flash, you had Dick off the couch and in your arms. With a shadow dash you were in the bedroom in an instant. Dick bounced on the mattress as you threw him onto the bed. There was no room for words as your clothes ripped and you captured Dick’s lips mid-transformation. “Sorry,” you mumbled between filthy kisses, “I can’t maintain my human form during the rut.”

“I know,” Dick replied, hands grabbing at the muscles that tore through the fabrics. He helped rid you of the confines you found yourself in. He reached for your cock, but you grabbed his hand, gathering the other one as well to pin them both above his head. “Holy shit, this is so hot,” he said in a breathy chuckle, his face stretched in an excited smile.

You held his wrists above his head with a single, large hand, while you took his lips between your fangs. You gently toyed with them, before sliding your long, thick tongue into Dick’s mouth. He moaned like a pornstar. You could smell his arousal, his excitement and his precum leaking inside his underwear.

Normally you would play with him more, but not today. You had a hunger that had to be satiated, so you penetrated his throat with your tongue and with a snap of your fingers, got rid of Dick’s clothes. The textiles evaporated like water on the stove and you were pretty sure Dick had no idea you could even do that, but he was too busy deepthroating your tongue to care. You fed him your saliva, thinking he could use the aphrodisiac effects of it to get through the night. When you finally let his mouth go, Dick was gasping for air. He looked happy as he was panting on the bed.

You grabbed his ankles and flipped him over like a pancake. Dick was giggling like a school girl seeing her crush. He followed your lead, allowing you to put a pillow under his hips. Your huge hands could fit a round cheek in each of them as you pulled them apart, revealing Dick’s plugged little hole. “Why does it seem like you’re the one going through a rut?” You scolded him teasingly as you lightly tugged at the plug. You pulled a little bit out, just to push it back in. Dick was humming in reply, loving the nails that were leaving animalistic marks on his bum.

“I am promised a whole couple of days of endless fucking. How can I not be excited?” You gave his butt a light slap as a sort of reprimand, but Dick just seemed to enjoy it. Eventually, you had enough of just watching his hole stretch over the plug and you pulled it out roughly. Dick gasped, the sound dissolving into a cry as your tongue entered his slick hole. Your senses got filled by your lover. His scent was like gasoline on the fire that produced your hormones. His cries, as you swirled your tongue around inside him, were like an open tap above a clogged sink that was already full of lust. His taste… My god, his taste was like the first time you hit the high on drugs and everything feels so good and you feel like you could stay in the moment forever, never wanting to return to normal life.

Little by little, your tongue penetrated him deeper and deeper. Dick was humping the pillow underneath him and letting out small cries of pleasure. You did not know how long it took for Dick to take it all, but by the time you had all 20 inches of your tongue inside him, Dick was desperately humping the pillow and your face. “Feels so good, so good,” he kept muttering, body overtaken by pleasure. He seemed to be unable to think of anything else but his upcoming orgasm. You helped him fuck himself on your tongue, your claws leaving bruises on his ass. When you could feel him on the edge, you pulled him close and started violently wiggling your tongue inside him.

Dick groaned as your tongue milked him through his first orgasm. No amount of twitching and squirming could free him from your grasp. His cum had long stained the pillow, but you did not stop, pressing on all his sensitive spots repeatedly. “Please, baby! Mercy! Please!” None of those words have ever been your safeword, so you kept going.

Dick’s voice reached a crescendo as you kept stimulating him. He was near-screaming when you smelled it, the thing you needed most. You retracted your tongue and climbed over Dick. He fell on the bed like a puppet with its strings cut. You grabbed him by the hair and forced his head up. There they were, glistening on a line from his eyes down his cheeks. You licked the tears off his cheeks, before giving him an appreciative kiss on the lips. “Why?” Dick shuddered, eyes hooded and a quiver in his lips as he struggled with just a single syllable.

You grinned down at him and caressed his pretty face. “I’m disappointed you didn’t study better,” you mockingly cooed at him as you moved. You sat down against the headboard, gently lifting Dick to sit in your lap. “You just read you were gonna get fucked and your dumbwhore brain just turned off, didn’t it?” You whispered as you scooted him forward until his dick was flush against yours. He was fully flaccid, but you did not need him to be hard at all. Dick nodded with his mouth slightly open, arousal painted on his face. You morphed one of your clawed hands into a more human shape, something without any sharp edges. You did not harm Dick as you inserted a single, thick finger inside him. His breath got stuck in his throat and he fell forward against you. You held him cradled against your chest as you thrusted that single finger inside him. “I’ll try to explain in a way my dumb little slut will understand,” you whispered, adoring how he had his hands in fists resting against your chest. “If I spend a rut with a human, the only thing that will satisfy me are tears produced during sex,” you entered another finger, “now most demons would choose some barbaric way to get those, but me… I have you.” You curled your digits, finding Dick’s prostate with ease. Whether it was your hellish nature or due to how well you knew him, you were not sure, but you always found it right when you were looking for it.

Dick writhed against you as you rubbed his prostate relentlessly. “I’m going to make you feel so good, my love,” you promised, “I’m going to melt your brain with pleasure, so all that is left of you when I’m done is a pretty, mindless, little fuckslut.” Your dirty words hurled Dick towards his second orgasm. He was biting his lips until the very end, where a loud moan broke his silence. His limp cock poured his cum over your hard length, but even when that little bit of cum ran out, you held him in place with one hand, while violating his prostate with the other.

Dick wailed in pleasure, but you could tell he was on that border of where too much pleasure was indistinguishable from pain. He gripped your shoulders, blunt nails digging in you as he seemed to hold on for dear life. He raised his head, eyes big and pleading. “Please, please, please,” he cried out. It did not take long for his limp cock to twitch in another attempt at spilling cum over you, but it was too soon and Dick had nothing to give, except the big, juicy tears that started pouring from his eyes. You leaned down, lapping them up as you continued your assault. Dick’s whole body was shaking at your onslaught. “Stop, please!” Dick eventually screamed. That was not the safeword, but you understood he needed a break, so you pulled your fingers out of him, while licking the last of his tears off his face.

Dick leaned against you, still sobbing. You wrapped your arms around him, stroking his back gently. Everytime a tear escaped him, your tongue automatically darted out to lap it up. “Shh, you did well, rest a little,” you cooed. You waited patiently as his breathing slowed, until Dick eventually let his hand wander down to take a good grasp of you. He stroked your cock lazily, spreading his own cum over your length.

You lifted your lover up and turned around, sitting him against the headboard. You stood on the bed, looming over him with your big cock pressed against his cheek. “Ready for more?” You asked with a wolfish grin. Dick responded by taking the head of your cock in his mouth. You let Dick ease into it on his own, watching as he went from sucking the head to licking it all over, eating his own cum off your cock. However, your patience was not endless. You grabbed him by the jaw and let a finger trace along where his head and neck connected. Dick felt the tingle of the spell that temporarily disabled his gag reflex. He understood and his mouth fell open, eyes looking up at you expectantly.

You braced yourself against the wall and leaned forward to shove your cock inside Dick’s mouth as far as it would go. Though he could no longer gag, there were still limits to his human body, so it was simply impossible for him to take you balls deep. Not that it mattered. His throat bulged and you moved back again, gently fucking his throat at first. Dick kept looking up at you with those obedient eyes as if he had accepted his fate as permanent cocksleeve. It was hard to keep the pace gentle. Before you knew it, you were fucking his throat like it was all he was, just a cocksleeve. “Look at you, just taking my cock down your throat like you’re a human fleshlight,” you grunted as you pushed in a little past what you knew was Dick’s usual limit. His eyes watered, but he could not gag. When you pulled out, he gasped for air. While he was panting, you leaned down to lick the tears off his face that had formed.

Then you did it again and again, alternating between degrading Dick while you fucked his throat and letting him breathe while you sated your hunger with his tears. It was so hot, your lover taking it so well. However, you did not want to cum in his mouth or on his face. There was only one place your cum belonged. You pulled out and grabbed his hair, savouring the tears, before you roughly manhandled him onto his back. You bent him in two, knowing how flexible he was. Dick put his feet behind his head, hands on his ass to show you the best view. With a swipe of your thumb over his hole, Dick’s ass started producing slick based on how aroused he was. It was unsurprising that he immediately started leaking like you had already bred him full.

“Such a good, dumb, bitch. Look how fucking horny you are, even after I made you cum 3 times. You’re leaking like a slut.” Dick had no reply, not that he would have been able to say anything while you rammed your cock inside him. The slide was easy, but the stretch was so sudden. You did not start out with gentle thrusts this time, wanting it to hurt a little.

Dick had been prepped, but there was no amount of fingering that made taking your cock not bordering between pain and pleasure. He threw his head back, moaning and whining. “Breed me, please, please, I need to be full, please,” he begged and begged in between your harsh thrusts. The wall got a beating too as the headboard slammed against it and the bed creaked under you. Dick could not stop begging. You were tethering on the edge, but you wanted to see him cum once more.

Dick’s hard member twitched against his stomach. Not a single touch had been required. You grabbed Dick by the back of his head and pressed your foreheads together. “Cum for me, now.”

Dick shook his head as much as he could in your grip. “Together, please,” he begged, tears already forming in the corners of his eyes. You gave him an evil smile that showed your disagreement. “Please, you’ll keep going, I don’t know if I can…”

You cut him off with your free hand that grasped his cock. “I said now,” you growled. He howled as you mercilessly fucking him to orgasm with your hand and cock. You were impressed by the two drops of cum that still managed to come out of his cock. And then, of course, you kept going, fucking him balls deep while you stroked his cock. Dick screamed, his legs coming down, but between your foreheads pressed together and your cock in his ass, he had nowhere to go. He begged, a string of “please” endlessly spilling from his mouth. He writhed. He cried. His tears were delicious, filled with lust, desperation and pleasure.

You could not get enough of it, the flavour consisted of the most exquisite mixture of emotions that you ever tasted. However, you were not untouchable yourself. Dick came again, his ass spasming around your cock and your knot inflated, locking you in as you spilled your seed deep inside Dick. He could feel it, crying out as his walls were even stretched more by the influx of cum. You let go of his cock, watching his belly that clearly showed the outline of your cock inflate a little.

You wrapped his legs around your hips, trying to make him as comfortable as he could be, while waiting for your knot to go down. Meanwhile, you licked the remaining tears off him and stroked his hair. “There you go, so good for me, my love,” you whispered. You pecked his cheek, concerned by how Dick was still shaking and looking like he fought seven planets worth of evil aliens at once. His eyes were still closed, mouth open to catch his breath. “Say something, my love,” you murmured, concerned by his silence.

Dick’s body went slack and he finally opened his eyes to look at you. “Promise me something,” he spoke softly, voice a little hoarse. You nodded and let your hands wander, giving him gentle touches all over to comfort him. “I can’t actually die from too much pleasure, right?”

You tried to hold back your laughter, knowing that too much movement would be really hard on Dick’s ass right now. “Silly boy,” you mused as you leaned down for a loving kiss. Dick could not do much right now, but he still tried to reciprocate. “I would never let anything happen to my special human.”

Dick smiled and nodded. “Good, good…” He clearly wanted to say more, but did not have the energy for it. You did not press; he needed his energy for later.

#dick grayson #nightwing #Young Justice #dc #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #dc x reader #dc x male reader #young justice x reader #young justice x male reader #young justice x you #demon reader

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benisasoftboi · 8 months

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I am so happy with the conclusion of BBC Ghosts.

There were so many things I loved about the final series that I can't even keep it all straight in my brain, I'll have to rewatch it all (and the Christmas special, of course! Must remember it's the not the true end yet!)

But something I can immediately say I loved was what they didn't do. See, that line in the trailer that turned out to be from episode 5 - about there being a pattern to when they move on - worried me. One of the best things about the show, to me, is how there truly is not any reason at all to why the ghosts are there, or when they go. It's something the creators have said over and over, and that the show has always backed up; we saw so many times that, unlike in most ghost media, addressing unfinished business or achieving emotional resolution changes absolutely nothing. Pat hit some sort of emotional resolution three times. And Julian realised the importance of family, and Robin saved someone’s life, and Thomas discovered the truth of his death, and so on and so on. Finding closure isn't the end, and equally, the end isn't predicated by a climatic conclusion. It just happens. And the same is true for why people become ghosts. It just happens. And you exist, and fill your days, and then you’re gone. And no one knows why.

It's kind of the most agnostic television show I've ever seen.

I love that. Every other afterlife show I've ever seen has some kind of reward and punishment system. Or at least says that there's a reason for things, some kind of higher power at play, not necessarily a god but something like it. Even the American adaptation felt the need to bring Hell into it, which is why I need to specify that I'm only talking about the British version here. And I feel like a lot of fans wanted there to be reasons too, or felt like there simply had to be, that it wasn't even a question. I get why - it's not just because it's the standard for ghost narratives. It's really uncomfortable to think about the randomness of life and death. But Mary didn't go because of anything that happened before that day, and Cap was never going to go because he came out, and one day, when they've all gone, there won't have been a reason for it.

Because the real point of BBC Ghosts is that there is no point. You’ve just got to make it through the days, surrounded by people that irritate you, trapped in a confusing world where you’re mostly powerless. And it sucks, and you're angry, and sad, and bored as hell. And you also find happiness in the mundane chaos, and you get really good at chess, and watch the ants in the garden, and write bad poetry, and read terrible romance novels, and gamble money you don't have, and go camping, and play games, and learn French, and watch reality TV, and have sex with a decapitated Tudor nobleman’s body, and dance to old music, and look at the stars, and find that you actually really love all those annoying people after all, and that’s the point.

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts spoilers #bbc ghosts series 5 #but imagine if they prove me wrong by melodramatically killing them all off at christmas though lmao actually that would be hilarious do it #also love so very much that they finished on a gay joke they know who's on the front lines for them <3 #god it's a cliche but really do already miss 'em

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 2 months

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Worst thing about OFMD is it raised my standards and now I can't go back.

The first thing I noticed was how much more critical I am of the songs used in other movies and TV, because OFMD is exceptional with its needle drops, picking songs so carefully it's like they're written into the script. And now almost every other time I turn on something else I'm just like "oh. okay. guess that matches the vibe fine."

But I'll be damned if it's not practically everything. Like, oh, I thought you were going for a genuine moment but you're just making a joke about two male characters being vulnerable with each other, like that's something we should all point and laugh at? Oh, the sole Black character is just the comic relief/angry Black man/sassy Black woman? Oh, you expect your audience is stupid so most of your dialogue is just characters telling us what's happening? Oh, none of your shots and transitions are done with any creativity? Oh, the costuming and set details don't have any neat meanings for us to see that become more easily noticable on rewatch to enhance the rewatch value of your show? Oh, your characters all say exactly what they mean all the time because you're scared of realistic miscommunication? Oh, we're ruining this genuine moment with a joke or a "that was weird" before it gets too earnest?

This show is just so good, guys. It's a good show. It's kinda ruining me for a lot of other TV because I just expect a level of good that can be hard to find.

#ofmd #our flag means death

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flanaganfilm · 2 months

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howdy!! do you rewatch your own work? if so, how often? im wondering if it has the same "artist just sees faults with what they create" thing, or if youre able to appreciate past projects the way they deserve

I don't, typically... usually, by the time we're finished with post production, I've seen the thing so many times that I'm thrilled to stop watching it. I'm either sick of it, or just feeling like it doesn't belong to me anymore. There are other reasons, too - Hill House was a traumatic production for me, for example, I have a lot of complicated emotions woven into it, so I haven't felt ready to rewatch that one since before it aired. Maybe in a few more years.

Somewhat recently, I've revisited a few of the older movies with my eldest son, who is 13 now. He's basically as old as my career itself. We've watched Oculus, Hush, The Midnight Club (which he LOVED, proving it worked for our target audience) and Ouija: OOE together, and each of those screenings was a really cool experience. His reactions and questions were really fascinating, and I felt like I was able to see those movies anew through his eyes. That's the closest I've come to feeling like I was really seeing them, and that's only because so much time has gone by for those. I watched the Director's Cut of Doctor Sleep a few years back at the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park Colorado. It was part of a live NoSleep Podcast event, and that was the first time I'd seen that movie since it was released. It was also the first and only time I'd ever seen the Director's Cut with an audience. That was a really special screening and it meant a lot to me.

I haven't yet had the guts to revisit any of the TV series other than Midnight Club. As my kids get older, I'm sure I'll watch them all with them. The one I'm most excited to see is Midnight Mass, which remains my favorite of the shows. I haven't seen it since before it came out - I remember the last day of post on that show, watching down each episode with final mix and color. That's a series I wish I could actually watch like a viewer at home, and while I'll never truly be able to do that, I look forward to looking at it with some real distance.

There are a few of the older projects I'd be curious to watch now. I wonder how Absentia holds up - I was such a baby when we made that movie, and it's been so long. I imagine I could watch that today and have a really trippy experience. I also haven't revisited Before I Wake in a very long time, and I always really loved that script. The movie was a rough road, and my feelings were mixed by the time it finally found its finish line (Relativity Media really beat that one up), but that could also be a really interesting viewing experience at this stage of my career.

But generally, each of these movies is a journey, and once the journey is over it's tough to ever really go back. There's little point, and moving forward feels like a matter of survival. The "finished product" is only the tip of a large, deep, labyrinthian iceberg for me. It's impossible to only see what's on the surface, no matter how hard I try.

(Interesting side-note: The only exception I've found to this rule is The Life of Chuck. We just finished post production on the movie, and I've watched it dozens and dozens of times now - but I've never grown tired of it, not even a little bit. That movie is something special, and I am eager to watch it again - and again - and again. I don't know that I'll ever want distance from that one; in fact, watching it brings me a sense of joy, comfort, and safety.)

#midnight mass #the fall of the house of usher #the haunting of hill house #the midnight club #doctor sleep #the haunting of bly manor #ouija origin of evil #oculus #before i wake #absentia #ouija: origin of evil #gerald's game

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witchy-scribblings · 10 months

Text

are you still watching?

shinazugawa genya x reader

synopsis ➳ it might have been you who selected the movie currently playing on your tv, but as of right now it was the last thing you could focus on.

warnings ➳ characters are aged up, shy genya, dom reader, making out, dry humping, coming in pants, dirty talk, praise kink, lowercase, mdni!

wordcount ➳ 2.3k

[crossposted on ao3]

it might have been you who selected the movie currently playing on your tv, but as of right now it was the last thing you could focus on.

you knew this scene and its dialogue by heart now, the tension-filled first confession of mr. darcy towards elizabeth bennet was and would always be one of your favorite moments in cinematic history, but right now you could hardly care about any of it, unlike your lovely boyfriend, who was hanging on to every heated word that elizabeth dished back to the object of her unfortunate infatuation. and that was the problem.

he looked so damn good when he was focused on, well, anything, really.

it would be an understatement to say that you were utterly smitten with genya. despite his extremely rough exterior, he had never been anything if not kind and sweet towards you, even way before going steady. he had been an amazing friend back then (still is), if a little awkward with certain kinds of affection, and an equally outstanding boyfriend. despite still shying away from your love at times, which you actually just found all the more endearing, he never let you doubt his own feelings towards you, and showed that he cared in his own smaller but just as meaningful ways.

for example, letting you sit him through what could be your fiftieth (but his first) rewatch of pride and prejudice. he had agreed, not without making a face, and somehow ended up being more invested in the old drama than you.

you couldn’t keep from stealing quick glances at him even if you tried, but he just looked so good in his gray baggy t-shirt and red sleeping shorts. you loved that he didn’t feel stiff and nervous under your legs as they rested across his lap, and even had a big, warm hand rubbing up and down the expanse of your calf, warming up the skin and sending shivers through you, but he didn’t seem to notice. he didn’t because, against all odds, he was loving the wretched (you’d regret your own wording in the morning) movie and you wished he’d lay all of that undivided attention on you instead.

as much as you loved it whenever he got into something you enjoyed, you needed him in a different headspace right now.

to be fair, you had been dating genya for a relatively short amount of time, and he had made a lot of progress with processing your displays of affection (he didn’t nearly faint every time you kissed him anymore!), but you really wanted to take things a little bit further. even making out could prove a bit of a challenge, so you never really pushed because the last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable and, truthfully, you could reign in those needs, for heaven’s sake! you weren’t a horndog.

…not like you were currently drooling over your very oblivious boyfriend. not at all.

“genya…”

maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just ask .

“hmm? w’cha need, babe?” and you hesitated because how could you not? he was still watching the movie, although you could tell he was paying attention to you as well. how would he react if you just blurted it out? you were okay with rejection, but you didn’t want him to feel guilty for denying you and completely ruin the mood. would he faint, even? you really hoped not, because that would ruin the night for sure. but you couldn’t just backpedal now; it’d be weird and awkward to just say “nevermind” without a proper explanation.

“...can i get on top of you?” you were fearing the words had been too forward, but instead of overreacting, genya just spared a quick glance to your legs and threw a confused look your way.

“but you’re already on top of me, baby.”

god bless his dumb ass .

“no, no,” and you giggle, of course you do, feeling more relaxed after you were suddenly reminded that this was just your boyfriend; your idiot, lovely boyfriend. “i meant, can i sit on your lap?”

you could tell he was blushing now, but, to your surprise, that seemed to be the extent of his reaction to your request. outwardly, at least.

“uh… sure can, babe,” and you were baffled as much as pleased by the way genya had easily acceeded, but it only took you one second of curious consideration before you acted on your words and shuffled slowly to place yourself on top of him, with both legs straddling his thighs (you could tell he was way stiffer now) and pressing your chest snuggly against his. you peered into his wide eyes. “b-babe… the tv’s the other way…”

“i don’t wanna keep watching the movie right now, genya…”

oh.

your shy boyfriend looked too stunned to answer, so you waited patiently, letting your hands roam up and down his firm chest through the thin cotton, adoring the way you could feel his tiny shudders and hear the hitch of air in his throat. your fingers traveled further upwards, until they came to cradle his jaw in both hands; the skin felt warm and clammy to the touch. you made sure he didn’t miss the way your eyes flitted to his parted lips.

“is this okay?” you breathed against his lips, a silent plea. his body was so close, so warm and hard compared to yours, you could feel it despite having full layers of clothes in between. your thumbs ran circles on his reddened cheeks and your nose brushed against his from how close you were hovering towards him. you just needed the green light to close-

“yes, yes it’s so okay-,” you didn’t let him finish, couldn’t let him finish before your lips fell on his almost of their own volition, and his words merged into a moan that you gladly swallowed into your mouth. the kiss was gentle, experimental if only to gauge his every reaction and make sure he was comfortable with your advances.

so far, you knew he was.

you knew from the way his hands immediately flew to your hips to brace himself against your onslaught of affection, the way he shivered when you ran your tongue along his lower lips after every playful nibble, the way your mouth, pressed so insistently against his as the kiss grew in fervor, couldn’t contain the tiny, pleading whimpers coming from his throat.

at some point, you pulled away just enough to observe how he was faring and, boy, was it a sight to behold; genya, with his thin lips looked deliciously kiss-bruised and glossy with spit, his skin flushed all the way to his ears and possibly down to his chest, if you were to guess, and his unfocused eyes staring absently at you.

you weren’t any less than thrilled to have him so messed up from just some kissing.

“p-please…,” he murmurs, trying to chase after your lips like they’re his new vice, but you swiftly snake a hand into the unruly tresses of his mohawk and pull him back, maybe a little harder than you should have, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care when you are rewarded with a loud groan that goes straight to your cunt, right along with the messy babbling you’ve pathetically reduced his speech to. “please, baby, kiss me more. y’r lips so sweet ‘n warm, i need more, more please, i- ah!”

you can feel your pussy soaking through the thin material of your panties when you grind yourself on genya’s crotch, once, twice, steadily building a rhythm where with every push and pull of your hips you could feel his dick getting harder and growing bigger.

“i can feel you through your shorts, baby,” you moan, shamelessly, keeping that one hand at the back of his head while your free one went to soothe the tight grip he held on your hip, through your oversized sleeping shirt. “your cock feels so hot and hard against my pussy, genya…”

if he’s embarrassed by your vulgar choice of words, genya doesn’t show it, and you’re sure it’s because he’s already so far gone into the steady pleasure, into your addictive touch, that he couldn’t be embarrassed even if he tried to.

he’s so unbelievably horny at this point that everything you say only serves to make his dick twitch inside his briefs.

when you lift yourself up a little, he follows and he whines , and you can’t help the amused giggle because he’s so damn needy already, but you let it play in your favor by taking the chance to slide his shorts down to his mid thighs; before you settle back down, you make sure to ogle the mouth-watering print of his cock tenting the material of his underwear.

“i really, really need to grind on your big cock now, genya. can i?” you ask sweetly, watching him throw his head back against the top of the couch and close his eyes to escape your impish smile and lustful gaze before they make him come embarrassingly early.

“p-please… i want it, baby, i-”

“i think you can do better than that, baby boy,” you coo, and you wonder how much you should push without risking ruining everything you’ve built-up until now but, it seemed, genya found it much easier to tolerate your teasing when he was already in the mood.

“b-babe, please… i need you t’grind your p-pussy on my cock…” he was doing so well, barely even stuttering, and you decided to reward him with a sensual trail of wet kisses on the side of his neck, tense like a bowstring with the self-imposed effort not to thrust up against your core himself. “‘m so so so hard for you, baby… i’ll be such a good b-boy for you…”

“yes you will, baby,” you sigh contentedly and, with that, begin to roll your hips back and forth, swiveling in circles and alternating between fleeting rolls and harsh grinding. “you’re already such a good boy, genya, letting me make you feel so good for me. aren’t you feeling good?”

as if the death grip he held on your hips and the desperate need to match your pace weren’t answer enough, you gave him time to put his own words together, to piece them despite the mist in his brain that only let him whimper and groan and moan breathily and raggedly into your neck.

“y-yes, you feel so good, oh my god, so so good… please don’t stop, please, i’m-”

“oh? are you close, genya?” and this time he does seem too embarrassed to answer, but you can tell by the trembling of his thighs against yours, the increasing volume of his voice and his clenching hands at your sides that it is, indeed, the case.

your pussy flutters at the thought of your sweet, lovely and pathetic boyfriend creaming his pants just from some light dry humping, and you decide right then and there that he’s going to do. just. that.

“n-no…” he finally denies, but it comes out so weak and unconvincing that he has to force himself to try again, “no, no i can’t… can’t cum like this, please-”

“you can, and you will, genya,” your voice is a gentle authority that leaves no room for debate, and he whines shamefully. desperately. “you’re going to be a good boy for me, aren’t you?”

“...y-yes, but-”

“and good boys make a mess when they’re told to, don’t they?” he’s so lost in your steady rhythm, trying so hard to fend off his impending orgasm that he can’t even come up with a reply. so you do it for him. “yes, they do. and since you are my dirty, little good boy, you’re going to come in your undies and-”

-and that’s exactly what he does. without warning, actually.

it is so sudden that you only know it happens because genya releases a strangled cry and a beautiful chorus of breathless “oh, oh, oh!” at about the same time you start to explicitly feel, through your sodden knickers, his throbbing prick soiling both of your crotches with his sticky seed, hips barely able to keep from chasing his relief with insistent jerks.

you find out later that night (because he tells you through mortifying embarrassment) that that had been the hardest he’d come to date. and you believe him, because it takes him a long time to ride out the euphoria, to settle back from the beautiful arch of his back into a boneless heap of post-orgasmic bliss, panting messily all the while, and you observe, feeling the mess between your thighs grow colder and stiffer as the seconds tick by, but you let him have his moment. he deserves it.

then, the post-nut clarity seems to hit and genya grimaces heavily, everything dawning on him at once; the mess, the shame, the relief, the utter adoration he holds for you because holy shit you really made him do that but he’s-

“s-sorry, oh my god-”

“nope, i’m not letting you apologize for that. you were so fucking hot, genya.” you relish on his flush, but let your tone soften with sincerity. “is everything all good, though? i really hope i didn’t go too far, baby…”

“no… you didn’t.” he seemed to struggle with finding the words, even more with finding your eyes, but you knew his words were honest. “that was actually really good…”

“i’m glad,” and you are, because despite the latent embarrassment, you can tell he enjoyed himself as much as you did. the living room is blanketed in comfortable silence, pride and prejudice still playing in the background, unattended, while you cuddled into his chest.

“but… y’know, there’s actually somethin’ wrong…” his words spike some unease inside of you, but when you look up to try and guess what could possibly be wrong, you’re met with a toothy quirk of his lips and wild-looking eyes that harbor a thrilling promise.

“you haven’t come yet, babe…”

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer #kny fanfic #kny x reader #kny x you #kny x y/n #kny smut #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #shinazugawa genya #shinazugawa genya x reader #genya x reader #genya x you #genya x y/n #genya smut #shinazugawa genya smut

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