#-know. i feel like my personal life is way more important | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

banananutmuffin28 · 2 days ago

Note

Thank you for taking one for the team! Since you are taking requests can you do a Se-mi x reader where reader is a part of Gi-hun's group and tries to get her to join the team?

A/N: (￣^￣ )ゞ Ofc ofc, more Se-Mi for the soul! I noticed you all really like her haha

Please, Come With Me—Player Se-Mi x GN! Player Reader

Se-Mi was an interesting girl.

You had seen her occasionally, but never really paid much attention to her. Sure, she was certainly attractive—you would be lying if you said that her short hair and many piercings hadn’t left you flustered the first time you laid eyes on her—but the girl quickly flew from your mind when you realized your life was at stake.

You couldn’t afford to die now, not when you had a loved one waiting for you on the other side.

But, during the Six-Legged Race, something happened that shifted your perception on Se-Mi.

As you stood there with Gi-Hun, waiting for the final people in your group to get into their respective teams, you noticed three men approaching Se-Mi.

The purple haired guy—who made it clear that his name was Thanos—smirked, looking up and down at Se-Mi before asking her to join his team. Nam-su or Nam-gyu—you couldn’t remember which—tried to get him to stop, but Thanos merely brushed him aside.

Of course, the way the men acted hadn’t thrown the thought of Se-Mi back into your orbit—it was what happened next.

Se-Mi seemed reluctant, tilting her head to the side as the beginnings of a grin formed on her lips. She didn’t seem at all impressed or intimidated by the fact that Thanos was a famous rapper. Rather, she looked amused.

“Ah, Thanos,” She started, her face growing wry, “Do you have all of the infinity stones?”

When you heard that, you couldn’t stop the giggle that burst from your lips.

Okay, Se-Mi has humor. You liked that.

After that exchange, you were more observant to the woman. You noticed how she had a type of fire inside her, one that couldn’t be put out easily by men like Nam-Gyu (or Nam-Su). And, you saw how used that very same fire to nurture the more vulnerable, like the boy who had refused to leave her side during the entire match.

She’s a good person. And she’s so pretty too.

Something peculiar bloomed inside you. It began from your chest, then spread to your collarbone, your neck, and then finally, your face.

You crossed your arms together, cheeks growing hot.

It would certainly be a shame of Se-Mi died. You wouldn’t mind helping her out a little if she needed it. In fact—

“Hey, are you listening to me?”

Gi-Hun’s gruff voice startled you from your thoughts, and you all but jumped back.

“W…what?”

He sighed and shook his head. You looked down, feeling like a kid about to hand their father their less than savory test score.

“I said, it is important that we closely observe the games so that we can note any strategies the other players use. It will be good for us.”

He turned his gaze to your direction, scooting his body closer to you.

“You shouldn’t be distracted by other things, not when you could die if you don’t do your part on time,” Gi-Hun said, before squinting his eyes. “What were you even looking at, anyways?”

You looked into your lap, feeling embarrassed.

“It was nothing!” You squeak, though it doesn’t sound convincing even to your ears.

Gi-Hun ignored you, craning his neck so that he could get a better view.

Your stomach sank as he started to grin.

“Ah, kid, were you staring at that cute girl with the piercings?”

The tips of your ears grew hot.

You debated on denying it, but knew that it would be of no use. You weren’t an idiot, you knew your body language gave it away eons ago.

Instead, you simply cleared your throat, turning your eyes back to the current race.

“Hey, what was that about observing the contestants of the race?”

Gi-Hun simply laughed, slapping your back hard enough to make your eyes water.

“Oh, don’t be shy, kid. Why, I remember how I felt the first time I met my ex-wife! I don’t know how I thought wooing her with a monkey would work…”

Letting out a groan, you covered your face with your hands.

Not this story again!

—

You decided you absolutely didn’t like Nam-Gyu.

He seemed to have it out for Se-Mi, choosing to constantly make snide comments about her to her face. Now, it wasn’t as if Se-Mi was utterly defenseless, as she would always stand her ground whenever she or Min-Su was insulted, but you still didn’t like seeing her have to be on edge so often.

You looked back to your crew, watching as Dae-ho told a joke you couldn’t quite hear. Jun-hee had doubled over laughing, spilling a bit of her milk onto the floor.

Se-Mi should be able to joke around and not have to constantly defend herself.

The boy she was protecting isn’t even trying to help her back.

You scowled, opening your milk carton with more force than necessary.

“Hey, you okay, kid?”

You didn’t even have to look back to know who it was. Instead, you frown, taking a swig at your milk carton before you said, “Hey, how would you feel if we had another member in this team?”

Gi-Hun blinked.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind.”

He turned back to the others.

“Hey, would you guys be okay if someone else joined us?”

“Heck yeah!” Dae-Ho screamed. “The more the merrier.”

As soon as those words left his lips, the another people whooped and cheered.

Gi-Hun nudged your shoulder, a smile on his face.

“I don’t think the others would mind, either. Think you can convince that girl with piercings to join us, though?”

Fuck.

At your startled expression, he let out a full belly laugh.

“Ah, I pieced a few things together. You don’t exactly have a great poker face, kid.”

You let out a small grumble, but felt relieved all the same.

At least you didn’t have two people to convince. Something told you that Se-Mi wasn’t going to be easily swayed.

Suddenly, a piece of bread was shoved in front of your face.

“Eat up, kid. I believe in you.”

—

You had to convince her. Now.

Your mouth fell open when you saw Se-Mi choose X. Now that she did that, it was more than likely that Thanos and his lackeys would be after her.

The only ally she had left was a boy who wouldn’t stand up for himself.

You tightened your fists. It would be dangerous for her to be alone tonight.

—

As the countdown for bedtime commenced, you quickly walked over to her, pretending to ignore the little thumbs-up Gi-Hun sent your way.

You couldn’t be distracted.

Se-Mi stood in the far right corner, the only indicator that it even was her being her lip piercing as it glimmered under the artificial light.

When you got closer, you put a hand in the air.

“Hey!”

She looked up from her conversation with Min-Su, startled. Her eyes seemed to narrow as you walked closer.

When the boy noticed you, he froze and quietly slunk behind her.

“Hey?”

Your heart thundered in your chest, and already you could feel doubt festering in your gut.

You pushed it to aside.

Clearing your throat, you put on your best smile and waved at her.

“Uhm, I was wondering if you would like to join my group. We’re—“

“Yeah, I know what time you’re in,” Se-Mi interrupted, eyed gliding to Gi-Hun. “I’m not interested. Min-Su and I are fine on our own.”

As she began to walk away, you could feel your chance to convince her dwindling. Hastily, you followed after.

“Wait, please!” You yell a little too loud, causing some of the players around you to give confused looks.

Se-Mi walked faster.

Cursing, you picked up your pace and tried to grab her arm.

She pushed you away.

“Is this why you were staring at me so often?” Se-Mi demanded, roughly pulling her arm away from you. She straightened up, crossing her arms together as she took a step towards you. “I don’t need your pity. I know what I signed up for when I voted X, and I’m wholly prepared to deal with the consequences.”

Despite the circumstances, you blushed.

“You noticed?”

She smiled, though it was more out of malice than humor.

“It was a bit hard not to when your eyes were glued to me, sweetheart.”

You knew the pet name was soaked in derision, but that didn’t stop your damned stomach from doing summersaults.

Determinedly, you ignored her words.

“I just want to help you, Se-Mi. You know how those guys treated you.”

She scowled.

“As I said before, I don’t need your charity. I am doing just fine with—“

“Please!”

The word burst out of your lips before you could stop it.

Se-Mi looked taken back. Behind her, you heard a soft gasp.

Fighting through your embarrassment, you continue onward.

“I stared at you for so long because I felt that you’re really pretty and I sorta-liked-how-you-stood-up-for-yourself.” The last half of the sentence was spoken in a rush.

“But when I offered you help, it’s not because I pity you, Se-Mi, it’s because I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Se-Mi raised an eyebrow. Her stance was more relaxed now, though her eyebrows were still furrowed.

“Why? We’re practically strangers.”

“Well…” You bit your lip. “I know that you probably have people who care for you outside the games, Se-Mi.”

You pointed a finger at yourself. “Hell, I do too. I’m only in this damned hellhole because I need to pay for my relative’s medical bills. They’re going to die if they don’t get it.”

You felt your eyes water.

“They’re…all I have left on this damned rock.”

Se-Mi exhaled softly. Her eyes were gentler now, and her lips pressed into a thin line. Hesitantly, she reached out to hold your hand.

You allowed it, curling your fingers around her hand.

“Se-Mi, there is no doubt that you are very strong. But, despite that, I don’t think you should get needlessly injured if you have a way out.”

You placed your other hand on the back of your neck.

“It’s not pity. Think of it more as…an alliance.”

As Se-Mi chewed her lip, your eyes traveled down to your joined hands. You focused on the warmth that radiated from her, and pressed against the callouses on her knuckles.

You knew she had been through a lot, even before she had stepped foot into death game.

Finally, she blew out a breath.

“Oh all right, I’ll join your little team,” She said at last, pulling her hand back so she could nudge you with her elbow. “I know you won’t stop badgering me about it if I refuse.”

She glanced at the boy behind her. “Min-Su, what do you think?”

He only gave a shy nod as his response.

You grinned.

You did it!

Before you could drop yourself, you practically tackled her, enveloping the woman into your embrace.

She froze for a moment, then returned your hug, chuckling.

“Thank you!”

Amusedly, Se-Mi shook her head. “Whose life are we saving again?”

Too elated to be embarrassed by her comment, you simply let go and reached out your hand.

“Come on!” You chirped.

Se-Mi took your hand.

“Lead the way, sweetheart. Oh, and by the way,” She said, drawing out the last syllable in a way that only foretold mischief.

You motioned for her to continue, trying to steel yourself.

Endearingly, Se-Mi pinched your cheek.

“What was that earlier about you finding me pretty?”

#squid game fanfic #squid game #se mi x reader #squid game x reader #squid game x you #se-mi x reader #player 380 x reader #Ask answered #My fics

264 notes · View notes

burningembers91 · 2 days ago

Text

A Game of Cat and Mouse - The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Follow Up Piece to: Freak of Nature On Display

Synopsis: Tired of being followed by the man in the grey suit, you decide the turn the tables

Warnings: Stalking, voyeurism, mentions of masturbation, the Salesman being kind of a sub

He was following you again. The man in the grey suit with the brown leather briefcase that probably cost more than you earned in a month. You clocked him about 100 yards back, his reflection visible in a shop window. You didn’t know how long you’d been playing this game of cat and mouse for. Any normal person would have been terrified at the prospect of being stalked, but there was something about the man who followed you that you found undeniably attractive. The day after he’d paid for your coffee, he was back out on the park bench, watching you from afar. You pretended not to notice him, going about your work as if he wasn’t there. Some days however, he would sit with you, making idle conversation as you watched the world pass by. You knew he followed you home, and one night you saw him sitting outside the restaurant across from you apartment. He noticed you too and raised his glass of soju in acknowledgement.

What was it that drew him to you? You weren’t anything special, weren’t anyone important. You were just you. You led a mundane life, filled with days that were all pretty much the same. Perhaps that was why you liked your new stalker; he injected the excitement that was so desperately missing from your world. You knew nothing about him, not even his name, but you were sure he knew lots about you.

You weren’t far from your apartment now, only two more minutes and you be safely behind your door. But you were tired of being safe; you wanted to see your grey suited man again, wanted to hear his voice, wanted to watch the wild way his almond eyes explored your body. You ducked round a corner, backtracking through an alleyway that ran down the side of your apartment. You could see your grey suited man from behind now, an angle you’d never seen before. He looked good from behind, with perfect posture, and an ass that looked great in his suit. He stopped, noticing you were no longer in front of him. you couldn’t see his face, couldn’t see the confused expression that flitted across his perfect features. Sneaking up behind him, you waited until you were inches away from him before whispering into his ear. “I guess this time I’m the cat, and you’re the mouse.”

He swivelled around to meet you, his eyes blazing with an expression you couldn’t read. “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, Mr Grey Suit,” you smiled, watching his eyes widen as he took you in. No one had ever bested him before, but you’d managed to outsmart him today. “Clever girl,” he purred, “I enjoy our little game.” You’d left him speechless that day at the coffee house, and today was no exception. You were so much more than he ever could have dreamed of, so suited to his needs and desires that he wasn’t sure he could hold back much longer. He liked playing with your mind, but he longed to play with your body too. He wanted to feel you squirm against him, wanted to hear you moan for him as he figured out how far he could push you. “Will you be dining across the street tonight?” you asked, fiddling with the top button of your shirt. He shifted in his Prada loafers, a flash of hunger in his eyes. “Potentially,” he mused, “or perhaps I might find an alternative option to satisfy my tastes.” You both knew he was lying; he was far too hooked on you to get his kicks elsewhere. “Shame,” you pouted, knowing you had him right where you wanted him. “I was going to give you a little show. Maybe next time.” With that, you turned on your heel and left your grey-suited man standing dumbstruck in the street.

That night, he was in his usual spot outside the restaurant. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Your grey suited stalker was becoming predictable now. But, you’d promised him a show, and a show he would get. You nudged the curtain open just a touch, enough that he could see you from where he was sitting.

He watched you from across the street, saw you move the curtain and give him full view of your figure. You were wearing nothing but a tiny silk robe, the dusty mauve colour the perfect contrast against your skin. You unbelted the robe achingly slowly, and he could feel his erection pushing against the fabric of his pants. The robe fell to the floor, and you stood in a matching lingerie set, your fingers running up and down your body. You were teasing him, toying with him. He’d never been teased before, and he aching cock responded to you in a way he’d never felt before. he shifted in his seat, desperate to quell the rising sensation of unbearable lust. He watched you slip your bra strap down, watched as you slowly lowered the cup just enough to show him the faintest outline of your breast. He audibly groaned, downing his glass of soju to quieten his desire. If he knocked on the door, would you let him in? He’d never been at the mercy of someone before, always being the one who played with people. But you seemed to enjoy torturing him. As if reading his mind, you shook your head, your finger delicately tracing your nipple. No, you wouldn’t let him in tonight. But he’d need you soon, otherwise he might go insane.

That night he pleasured himself to the image of you in your apartment, the delicate lingerie so perfectly contouring your curves. He’d have you soon, there was no doubt about that. You were a tease, but he hadn’t fully shown you what he was capable of yet.

#the salesman squid game #squid game fanfic #squid game x reader #squid game x you #the salesman fanfic #the salesman smut #the salesman x you #the salesman x reader #gong yoo #squid game season 2 #squid game smut #squid game #squid game 2

348 notes · View notes

scarletttries · 2 days ago

Text

Baldur's Gate 3 Companions With a Shy GN!Reader...(Baldur's Gate 3 Request)

Request: " Can I request for Baldur's Gate 3 companions with shy gender neutral s/o please?"

Pairings: Astarion x Reader, Wyll Ravengard x Reader, Gale Dekarios x Reader, Shadowheart x Reader, Karlach x Reader

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who sent in requests and has been reblogging my Baldur's Gate posts! Consider me open for any BG3 requests, let me know if you want to see more headcanons like this :)

Astarion:

- At first Astarion would find it hard to reconcile your shyness with his understanding of the way people behave. He would be suspicious of you initially, wondering why you insist on playing your cards so close to your chest. It wouldn't be until you finally warmed up to him and started to talk a bit more that he realised that this quiet tone to you is actually very endearing to him.

- When you two get together he would feel very proud to be the person you speak to the most. Astarion can be a little insecure sometimes so knowing that you choose to talk to him despite being selective with who you speak to would mean a lot to him. It would help him to trust you more too, knowing the the deep bond between you is almost a secret that you would never dare whisper to anyone else.

- Astarion loves being able to communicate with you with just a sly glance or a single whispered word, the two of you often having entire conversations without saying a word to those around you. When you need to talk your way into somewhere Astarion's always happy to do the talking, but he can't help but be impressed with the way you can navigate through a room quiet and unnoticed.

- As a partner Astarion needs more reassurance than he ever likes to show, so knowing that you'll go against your shy instincts to whisper a flirty thought or a sentimental memory to him when he starts to look worn out always boosts his spirits. He didn't know how much he needed someone just like you in his life until you became a core part of it.

Wyll:

- Wyll never shies away from the public or a spotlight, announcing himself as he enters almost any room, so when he meets someone who prefers to listen to those around them instead of interrupting, he'd become very interested in what you have to say. He'd make the effort to get to know you even if it didn't happen as naturally as sometimes other bonds have come to him, but as he worked to gain your trust and attention he'd never regret a moment of time spent getting you to warm up to him.

- When the two of you are together Wyll will never miss an opportunity to sing your praises, no matter how bashful it makes you! He needs you to know how amazing and appreciated you are, as he can never tell if you fully recognise your own brilliance.

- Wyll falls in love with the way you think before you speak, listening to every part of his story and really considering everything he tells you, never jumping to an assumption as so many people in his life have. He finds your accepting nature makes him a better man, and in return he only grows a deeper fondness for the way you carry yourself.

- As a partner Wyll always needs someone to be there for him, listening and reassuring, and he really finds that partner in you. He's never felt more loved and respected as he does when you give him the time and space to work through his feelings and history, the quiet stillness you bring to his life letting him find a peace he's never known before.

Gale:

- Gale has spent enough time studying magic at scholarly institutes to have met more than a few shy souls in his past, so when he notices you playing the shrinking violet he knows exactly how to give you all the time and space you need to finally share a bit of yourself with him.

- He knows that the most important things to hear usually come from those who don't speak unless they have something to say, and there's no exception to that in you. He really gives weight to everything you share with him, every opinion you pose, and every compliment you reward him with through flushed cheeks and nervous laughter. It only makes it that much sweeter that you don't dish out such comments absentmindedly.

- Gale also enjoys using a bit of your shyness against you, gaining a certain amount of satisfaction from being overtly flirty in public once the two of you are well into dating. He can't help but smile at the way you shy away from his loud declarations of love and the flirty comments whispered far too loudly across a tavern. His heart practically bursts when you try to hide your face in his hands when he's being far too vocal about how beautiful he finds you in front of the rest of your companions, and not a day goes by that he doesn't remind you of that fact.

- Thankfully he usually waits until you are alone to let his adoration pour out in his gentle words and touches, enjoying that while he can be a brash as he wants in public, he can feel your true appreciation in the quiet you spend alone. His life has held more than one dramatic chapter, so having someone who loves him so sweetly and mutters his name so softly when they praise him really means the world to Gale.

Shadowheart:

- More than anyone else, Shadowheart can appreciate the desire to keep parts of yourself hidden behind some firmly closed doors. She finds herself drawn to your quiet personality as the rest of the party are a bit boisterous for her taste, often favouring the seat beside you at any given campfire, knowing her boundaries will be respected, and any conversation made will be worthwhile.

- Once you two are together, she sees you as a respite from the endless questions of the outside world. The two of you can spend hours in comfortable silence together, only your interlocking fingers letting the other know you are still there. You give her the space to think through her decisions, but at the same time she knows that if you choose to speak up then she really should consider listening to what you have to say.

- Shadowheart finds herself more able to share pieces of herself with you, as you open up at the same gradual pace that she does. You don't rush to tell her everything or bombard her with questions like the others. Instead she'll often finding you waiting outside her tent at first light when she rises, offering her a hand for a quiet stroll through the forest as you softly tell her a tale from your childhood and she tries to imagine herself growing up alongside you, in a sweet version of her life she could almost convince herself is the truth.

- Shadowheart doesn't fully know her past, but with you as her partner, her future finally starts to come into focus, all because of you.

Karlach:

- Karlach has been loud and brash since the moment she could speak, so at first she thinks your shy demeanour is a sign of rejection of her friendship. It's disappointing that you don't want to talk to her, but she's not sensitive enough to worry about what every single person thinks of her. It would be endlessly frustrating to you that you have to really put yourself out there, making every effort to be by her side and forcing yourself to respond to her every remark to try and let her know you really do like her. In the end you'd just have to ask her to dance at a celebration with the rest of the group, and when she laughs and says she thought you didn't like her, please prepare yourself to tell her you like her so much that it makes it genuinely hard to talk sometimes.

- Once Karlach understands the concept of shyness and that it is not a personal affront to her, she will be very happy to do all the speaking for both of you. Every journey you take across the lands she will gladly fill the silence with every thought and tale, celebrating loudly every times she manages to make you gasp or laugh along with her.

- Karlach will take a lot of pride in the thought that you like her so much that you are almost rendered speechless, and get quite jealous when she realises you are being shy around other people too. Worried that everyone will be seduced by your strong-silent type behaviour she would definitely insist on holding your hand as much as possible, or loudly shouting across combat that you and her are an item just in case anyone was getting the wrong idea.

- While your personality might have started as a bit of a mystery to Karlach, once you two really know each other she'll come to highly value your way of carrying yourself, learning a few things about protecting herself from undue influences, while keeping herself open to the important people in her life, like you!

158 notes · View notes

summertimesadnessirl · 3 days ago

Text

Sometimes I think it's like...

Cis people also put a lot of effort into passing.

Or we're encouraged to feel weird about not meeting gender based expectations socially?

I don't know if it's dysphoria, it's not fair to use that word.

I literally am cis and I have felt, in my life, all the time, that I'm not a "real" woman in some way. Not in a way where like, I feel cool and empowered by the idea of being without gender. I thought maybe that was it at one point. Like "maybe I'm trans. I get along better with male friends who aren't attracted to me and treat me like one of the guys. I get along well with trans people and I find some gender based expectations really hard." I don't think I am, because I can understand the idea of wanting to do drag or not talk about your gender online but when I think of people misgendering me when I am not doing those things it feels really bad.

But? Like? That feeling is taught to you when you're a kid. It never goes away. Your body isn't gender dimorphic enough. People don't treat you like they treat the other people of your gender. They are all confused by things you do. Things they do confuse you.

In my case I decided I'm just otherkin. I don't talk about it much. People take it the wrong way. I am not like the other people, even the other people with a lot of my mental health diagnoses, because I'm secretly not a human being like they are. My mom wanted a baby and came home for lunch because she was ovulating, and it was someone else who wasn't my father and they weren't human and they didn't want me but they impregnated her. They suck for leaving me. Whatever. It's fine for everyone to feel like I don't fit because they're another species and they let me live here in their community but we misunderstand each other all the time. I try not to creep them out if they aren't mean.

But like... why do you think all those "femininity coach" "feminine energy" people are radicalizing so many cis women? Why is that the title of "the feminine mystique?" Men definitely deal with that, too. Cis people don't stop being insecure about their gender identity just because they are cis.

So that's part of it.

But also like?

When you first meet a nb person specifically, you're like ???

Suddenly you realize how many things you say and do have a gendered component in your brain.

Like in animal crossing?

The og animal crossing gave you the choice of saying

"Isn't it cute?" Or "Isn't it cool?" To tell the game your gender.

Isn't that weird? Like?

I didn't realize that's what the question meant, because it didn't say, and then I kind of felt insane for like a week after. Like???

Cool and cute. If you think of it as a question like "each one of these means a gender" you know which they mean is which. But if you just objectively say "do you think your name is cool or cute?" Why would someone think that? Also how do I immediately know which is which when you tell me cool and cute are the two genders?

I was a kid. They didn't have stuff about gender all over the internet then.

This was brand new information.

It was like...

Baby's first non dualism.

Idk.

People don't realize how much of manners is based on the person's gender unless they actually think about it.

And the older people are, the more important manners are to them.

Probably if they are not evil, you can just tell them how to do manners for you and they will leave you alone. Which isn't a good solution but that's the problem for people who aren't evil.

Okay but can anyone articulate the mindset that leads older people to feel like they NEED to know people's gender identity all the time? Like what's going on there

25K notes · View notes

justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 1 day ago

Text

I Want You Back

This was originally requested by Anon who asked: "Could you make headcanons where you have an established relationship with the Tokyo Debunker characters but your ex suddenly tries to win you back?" The links to the other houses are below.

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Alan Mido, Leo Kurosagi, Sho Haizono x gn! Reader (separate)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're happily in a relationship with the Tokyo Debunker characters. So how will they react when your ex suddenly tries to win you back?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’d think Alan would be super protective of you but he’s initially going to be very reserved. His self-doubt is coming back at full blast and he’s going to give you as much room as possible to make the decision you want.

He thinks you’re going to get back together with your ex so you’re with someone who isn’t constantly worrying over hurting you.

But the second he finds out you want to be with him and just want your ex to leave you alone, he’s going full protective boyfriend mode.

There’s no way your ex is going to be hanging around now that Alan’s stepped up to protect you. You’ve already got a wonderful boyfriend that has everything you could ever want.

Oh, Leo’s going to be so toxic with this one. But surprisingly not towards you. If he’s in a genuine relationship with you, he’s going to be really careful he doesn’t push you away.

No, no, no, he’s going to be super toxic towards your ex. I’m talking “befriending” them, then leaving them on read, doxing them, spreading rumours, and just generally making this person’s life a misery.

He’s also not afraid to bring his followers into things. He’ll post a video talking about how more people need to learn to accept no’s. And the second he lets slip “accidentally” that your ex has been hanging around, his followers are on the case.

There’s only a moment where Leo considers the possibility that maybe you want to be with your ex. But he’s going to push that thought down with all the other negative thoughts he has. He’ll deal with them one day…

Sho is the ultimate balance of Alan’s reservedness and Leo’s immediate defensiveness. And the main difference is that he’s going to sit down with you and have a conversation about what you want to do.

As soon as he knows where you stand, he’s got permission to act on all the protective feelings bubbling inside him.

Sure, Sho’s a nice guy, especially when it comes to you, but he’s in Vagastrom for a reason. He’s going to try and talk to your ex first and if that doesn’t work, he’s challenging your ex to a round in the pit.

He knows damn well he’ll be able to beat you ex in the ring, especially if he has you cheering him on loudly from the side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.

ko-fi.com/justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms

Important Note: Please only donate if you are financially able to. If you are currently in a position where you can't donate, a like, comment or reblog will mean just as much.

#writing #fanfic #headcanon #headcanon request #request #tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #alan mido #alan mido x reader #leo kurosagi #leo kurosagi x reader #sho haizono #sho haizono x reader

69 notes · View notes

utilitycaster · 2 days ago

Note

thank you so much for your analysis on BH, Ive been thinking for ages that they seemed like the wrong fit for this particular campaign and it's nice to see that I'm not alone. It kinda baffled me that even knowing the crux of the campaign was going to be about the fate of the gods, Matt didn't like... just tell the cast that their characters opinion on divinity would be important?

I really feel like this plot needed more religious characters, even if they weren't outright clerics or paladins. The only one filling that role is Sam and while I love him and FCG his approach to religion seems kinda... cynical? shallow? Possibly just more focused on the goofs of it all. Which is a fine choice in a vacuum but god, what I wouldn't do for this party to have a Caduceus or even a Vax figure so it didn't feel like a bunch of agnostics were deciding the fate of religion.

So here's my opinion, and I've said this before: I agree that making characters who had a coherent, developed opinion on divinity before the campaign that was discussed as part of the character build is important...but I actually don't think it matters if there's no clerics or paladins or even religious characters. I also said this before: my ultimate problem, in the end, is not just the indecision but the fact that they're not even exploring indecision; they just are drifting through a narrative from which they feel disconnected. I as a person viewing the show think killing the gods is a dumb idea, but a campaign in which the characters confidently embraced an anti-god position and took actions in the service of that goal would be infinitely more enjoyable. I do not need characters to live out my personal values, because I do that in my real life, in the same way that I can enjoy characters who are vastly different than I in personality.

I think Keyleth is a fantastic example of both indecision as an actual conscious character trait (during Campaign 1) and a character who is not religious or even particularly respects the gods but who seems to have actually thought through the implications and made an assessment. Keyleth's analysis paralysis and fear of making a harmful decision or being hurt is the point of the character, and Marisha explores it directly during Campaign 1; it is ultimately what is holding Keyleth back from becoming the leader she needs to be, and working through it is the arc of her character. Avoidance or indecision is a fantastic character flaw to explore (Bellara in Veilguard is a recent example that's been on my mind) but it is a character flaw to be explored, and for the character to do something interesting with, and Bells Hells just...as I've said, drift. They keep going through open doors because they are there and never say "do I even want to go through this door? Why or why not?" and the entire purpose of a character in fiction, in my opinion, is to ask that question.

I actually pretty strongly disagree about FCG. I think they took a bit longer than I'd like to click but I actually found FCG's exploration of religion to be one of the deeper ones in the series. I think the party often disparaged it, and the fandom certainly did ("Fearne should make that stupid robot eat his own coin" will remain burned in my brain forever; I cannot take someone who said that as anything but a shriveled husk of a person unless they admit it was horribly mean-spirited and they regret it) but FCG is the rare member of Bells Hells who actually explored the concept of having autonomy and agency - that was his entire arc, actually - and to have this be told through embracing the god of chance and freedom, whom he learned about by chance, was a highlight of the campaign. I would strongly advise you reconsider seeing this as nothing but a bit; just because Sam tends to make a lot of dumb jokes doesn't mean he's not often telling a pretty profound story underneath, and this is a lesson it took me until this campaign to learn, to be honest. But I will say I don't think FCG being here now would fix things any more than Braius does, in part because the rest of the party looked down on faith but also didn't really condemn it. They just made vaguely unkind comments and continued doing fuck all. As my ask earlier today said, they didn't actually challenge each other; they just sort of passive-aggressively bitch. The point that many people made very early on, that Bells Hells has a veneer of cooperation and civility but lack the actual true bonds that only arise through working through conflict, remains true.

Getting back to it, I think the fact that NPCs who are not affiliated with the Prime deities nor Betrayer Gods and even struggle against them (Percy, Keyleth; the entire Kryn Dynasty; a massive number of entirely secular governments including the Clovis Concord, the remnants of the Cerberus Assembly, as far as I know the Marquesian governments, the Silken Squall) are unambiguously against Ludinus and the release of Predathos means that it's not the lack of clerics or paladins or everyday religious people. I don't care if agnostics decide the fate of the world, but DAMN those agnostics better have a fucking vision for what the world should be. I could talk at length about why I think killing the gods is a deranged and unrealistic solution to the problems the characters claim to think it will fix, but ultimately I don't even feel like the characters care about those problems. The titans are still going to be fucking dead, conquest and colonialism already exist within Exandria without the aid of any gods. Hell, Ashton's whole situation could be replicated precisely again in a world with no gods; and as the Ruidusborn were created by Predathos as keys to release it, I don't think there's a reason to have any more but I don't think that's really what Imogen was going for. It's the same kind of thing we call rapture culture among terminally online types: the idea that with one big act of violence you will usher in a new, better age. The idea that violent change is inherently for the better is infantile and utterly self-centered, as is the idea that putting off a choice until it becomes inevitable is anything other than selfish and stupid. I would rather the choice of the fate of the gods come from atheists who weren't infantile and self-centered and selfish and stupid than clerics and paladins who were. That's it.

#critical role #cr spoilers #answered #i am maintagging this one bc i think it might be the best summary i've done #and bc i maintain the issue isn't a lack of faith it's a lack of brains and empathy

96 notes · View notes

the-fab-fox · 2 days ago

Text

This is so true. I recently saw a recipe for a really healthy meal on a recipe blog. I clicked the author's name and found my way to their actual domained website. In their about, I found the email. I have emailed them asking if there was a way to do the recipe but in a crockpot due to the pretty unsafe environment I live in—due to the skuzzy way my roommate/Subletter acts, I don't feel safe using the kitchen. I have not received an answer but from my experience sending out emails to people one would not generally consider, I know one of two things will happen. They will simply not respond (that is to say ignore or disregard my email) or they will answer and let me know if it can be done or let me know they don't have the time or energy to offer that solution. And these two options aren't bad at all. There's no consequence.

So even if they *don't* answer, what's the problem with asking when the worst outcome is simply no answer. You're literally losing nothing no matter the outcome, and more times than you think you're gaining something.

A few more examples on this:

I'm very much a networker. I am a people person and really good at striking up random conversations with people. Been that way my whole life. I just love interacting and helping people. (I'm a customer service professional of 20 years if that says anything).

I also am pretty intermediate with computers and very good at writing resumes and cover letters for job resumes and things like that. A lot of that comes from the fact that when I was younger, if I wanted something that could only come from a specific person/company/entity/etc, I would search and research until I found the contact needed.

Sometimes I'd be pleasantly surprised, sometimes not. But I never lost anything by trying.

A few times I was pleasantly surprised:

I was/am really into Criminal Minds as a TV show. Got into it in my 20s. It's become a comfort show (as weird as that is for a show about a fictionalized Behavioral Analysis Unit in the FBI). I was thinking... What would it take to be a BAU agent. It's probably nothing like the show so what's it like really. So I went on USAjobs.gov to look into it. Found contact for FBI. Emailed with a well edited and professional email (yes, this is absolutely important if you want to be taken seriously—if anyone would like me to draft up an example of what that could look like in a specific scenario, I'm happy to help!) as well as I could at the age I was at (basically, write it as well written and professional as you know how at where you're at now—don't try to "sound" professional and use big words. Just write as you but more formal). Lo and behold, I got my answer and it was quite thorough and they even warned me that the team as is seen on the show is very over glorified and the BAU mostly consults from afar and very rarely goes into the field. Lol. But you still have to pass the entrance exams which include physical.

2nd time, around the same time. I was a member of a Matthew Gray Gubler (Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds) fan blog on Live journal. (Really aging yourself, here, Finley 🤣) Anyway. There was a movie we heard of that MGG would be in but no one knew if it was true or really happening or if the project was still in the works or had been stalled. I did a Google search, found the movies official page, found a contact email or form. I was consise in my subject line and consise in my email (my thinking was entertainment people are gonna be hella busy so put my inquiry in as little but still respectful and professional words as possible. I stated who I was, my experience leading to my question (in this case I said something along the lines of 'my name is Finley Beckett and I'm a member of a Mattew Gray Gubler fan blog. The group of us have been looking forward to the movie that if coming out but we haven't heard anything about it or whether it's still happening or not. I was hoping that you might be able to shine some light on this. Also, due to the questionable relience of the internet these days, would it be at all possible to send some kind of proof that you are indeed the people behind the movie. I won't share with the group, of course, but that way I can with 100% confidence, inform them of your response). And two or so days later I got an email from the director of the movie himself (and keep in mind this was a lower budget film and pretty sure straight to DVD so obviously this would likely not work with someone like say George Lucas or Christopher Nolan or Stephen Spielberg) emailed me back and gave me not only what has been happening as far as movie production but as well as a few production stills that included MGG within them.

I've gotten to correspond with two of my favorite novelists due to finding their websites and through those, their contacts. (Business inquiry emails count as contacts). And one of them, probably my favorite author of all time (Tamora Pierce) even looked over some of my writing at the time and gave me some really great feedback. To this day I cherish this moment even if I've lost the email to time.

Ultimately, the biggest advice I can give on this sort of thing is best summed up in this quote:

"You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take. Even though there is only a 1-5% probably of scoring."

— Wayne Gretzky (not Michael Scott 🤣)

And I left in the second part because it confirms what I've said. Like yes, there's only a 1-5% chance of getting something out of reaching out, especially in this day and age.

That said, if you never try, that percentage stays at 0%. Full stop.

You're already at 0%, so it would make more sense if you tried because even if you fail, you're already at 0% so you've literally got nothing to lose, right?

IDK if any of this will help but I wanted to try just the same. (See what I did there? 😉)

#long post #but it's important

30K notes · View notes

thejournallo · 3 days ago

Text

Explain the basic: how to work with deities.

Working with deities in witchcraft is a deeply personal and spiritual practice, often based on the traditions of Paganism, Wicca, or eclectic witchcraft. The approach can vary widely depending on the deity, the practitioner’s beliefs, and the cultural or spiritual framework they follow.

There are many ways to understand if you’re being called by a deity or if that deity is available to work with you. Over the course of my journey as a witch, I’ve created some questions to help me recognize when a deity might be by my side:

Have I dreamed about this deity? You might dream about a deity, often through symbols or representations, such as animals or other forms connected to their essence.

Have I noticed symbols associated with this deity? Seeing recurring symbolism tied to the deity could be a sign.

Do I frequently encounter angel numbers? Repeated sequences of numbers might indicate divine communication.

Is the candlelight flickering more than usual? Unusual behavior in candle flames can be a subtle sign.

Do I smell something that isn’t physically present? For example, you might suddenly smell fresh oranges in your room, even though there’s no source for that scent.

These aren’t the only ways to recognize if a deity is truly with you or calling you. Sometimes, you’ll simply know. The questions I’ve shared are based on my personal experiences, and I’ve included them here because they might help. However, they’re not mandatory for working with a deity—they’re just a guide to assist you on your journey.

Here’s a general guide on how to work with them:

1. Research and Understand the Deity

Before attempting to work with any deity, it's important to understand their history, mythology, personality, and attributes. Deities come from a variety of pantheons—Greek, Roman, Norse, Celtic, Egyptian, Hindu, and others—each with their own unique qualities and domains. Research their sacred symbols, stories, traditional offerings, and rituals.

Pantheon: Decide whether you're drawn to a specific pantheon (e.g., Greek, Norse, Egyptian). Some practitioners work with deities from multiple pantheons, but others feel it’s important to focus on one tradition.

Attributes: Know what each deity is associated with. For example, Aphrodite is the Greek goddess of love and beauty, while Hecate is a goddess associated with magic, the moon, and the underworld.

2. Establish a Relationship

Working with deities is less about commanding them and more about developing a respectful relationship. Like human relationships, this often takes time, intention, and understanding.

Respect and Intent: Approach them with reverence, rather than demands. Ask for guidance, wisdom, or energy, but be respectful of their time and presence.

Meditation and Invocation: A common way to start is through meditation, where you quietly call upon the deity, focusing on their energy and essence. Invocation rituals, where the deity is formally called into your sacred space, are also widely used.

Dreamwork and Signs: You can ask the deity for signs in your dreams or waking life. This could come in the form of symbols, animals, or even strong feelings or ideas that seem to arise from nowhere.

3. Create a Sacred Space

A dedicated altar or space for your deity is a good way to establish a connection. This can be as simple or elaborate as you wish, but it should feel sacred to you and aligned with the deity’s energy.

Altar: Place items associated with the deity on the altar, such as candles, statues, crystals, or symbols that represent them. For example, if you work with Athena, you might place an owl figurine (a symbol of wisdom) or a spear (a symbol of war and strategy) on the altar.

Offerings: Regular offerings are a sign of respect and devotion. These can include food, flowers, herbs, incense, or wine. Choose offerings that align with the deity’s preferences—Dionysus might appreciate wine, while Demeter could be honored with grains or bread.

4. Rituals and Prayers

Rituals and prayers are a key part of working with deities in witchcraft. These can range from simple daily prayers to more elaborate ceremonial rituals.

Daily Devotions: Some practitioners recite prayers, light candles, or offer simple gestures like lighting incense in honor of their chosen deity. This helps keep the connection alive.

Full Moon or Sabbats: Special rituals can be conducted during significant times, such as the full moon (Esbats) or during one of the seasonal Sabbats (e.g., Samhain, Beltane) that align with the deity’s domain or energy.

5. Ask for Guidance or Assistance

Once you’ve developed a relationship, you can ask the deity for guidance, blessings, protection, or specific outcomes. Remember, though, that deities are not forces to control—they are powerful entities with their own wills.

Petitioning the Deity: Clearly state your request and what you hope for in your ritual. It’s often helpful to frame the request in terms of "please guide me" or "assist me with wisdom" rather than demanding outcomes.

Divination: Many witches use divination methods, such as tarot, runes, or pendulums, to communicate with deities and receive answers. This is particularly helpful when you’re seeking guidance.

6. Listen and Respect Boundaries

Deities are ancient and powerful, and it’s essential to respect their boundaries and listen to any messages or feelings you receive. Some deities may not respond or may decline to work with you, which is part of the spiritual process.

Patience: Don’t expect immediate results. Building a relationship with a deity takes time, and their responses can come in subtle ways.

Signs and Symbols: Be open to signs from the deity in your everyday life. You may see symbols, animals, or experience synchronicities that align with their energy.

Trust Your Intuition: Sometimes the deity will communicate in ways that are deeply personal to you. Trust your intuition when you feel their presence or receive guidance.

7. Balance Your Work with Action

Working with deities involves both spiritual practice and real-world action. If you are asking for help or guidance, also take practical steps in your own life to align with your desires. The deity may offer support, but you need to take responsibility for your actions and goals.

8. End Your Rituals with Gratitude

Always thank the deity for their time and guidance, whether or not you feel you received a clear response. Gratitude strengthens the relationship and shows that you respect the energy you’ve called upon.

Offerings of Thanks: Even if your request isn’t immediately granted, it’s good practice to offer thanks with a small gift, such as flowers, herbs, or a simple verbal thank-you.

9. Work with Deities in Line with Your Values

It’s important to choose deities that resonate with your personal values and goals. Some deities are more chaotic or represent aspects of life that might be difficult to manage (e.g., trickster gods like Loki), so be mindful of their nature and whether you are ready to work with their energy.

10. Ethics of Working with Deities

Respect the cultural context of the deities you work with. For example, if you are working with a deity from a living, closed tradition (like the Orishas in Santeria or Vodou), it’s important to understand and honor the culture and protocols around that deity. Be cautious about appropriating deities from traditions you are not familiar with or initiated into.

Working with deities in witchcraft can be a powerful and transformative experience, but it requires respect, dedication, and mindfulness. Each deity has their own personality, preferences, and energy, so take the time to build a meaningful relationship.

75 notes · View notes

nightingale-ghost-writer · 2 days ago

Text

141 Headcanons - The Five Love Languages

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon has been so severely abused for so much of his life that any form of love is just shocking and hard to accept for a long, long time

It takes a lot of time for him to let anyone love him at all. A LOT of time.

Touch would have to be his number one, though. He mostly hates to be touched by people, but once he has a taste of gentle touches, he can’t get enough

For the longest time, the only touch he got was being beaten, shoved, pulled, and manhandled. Enter his military career. Now, any intent to touch is intent to harm

Enter you. Whether it be brushing a hand across his shoulders as you pass, nudging him when something is funny, squeezing his hands or shoulders in reassurance, wrapping yourself in his arms, or wrapping him in yours, your touches have only ever sought to bring comfort to one or both of you

It goes both ways. Once upon a time, his hands were only for hurting other people. But now that he’s been shown physical love, it’s his favorite way to show love, too

Anytime he can, he wants to be touching you, he’ll put his hand on your back, his arm around your shoulders, or his personal favorite: have you curled up in his lap

Just the fact that you WANT to be close to him makes him feel safe and wanted and loved

He even finds himself reaching out to Johnny on occasion now, though he’ll never admit it

It still takes trust and a LOT of time for him to actually let someone close enough to touch him, though

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny values quality time above all else, though touch is a close, close second

Like Simon, he doesn’t let people too close. He banters and blusters, but few ever make it into the circle he would call his actual “friends”

When he meets you, being around you becomes as important as breathing. Wherever you are is where he wants to be. Whatever you’re doing is what he wants to do

Ghost teases him that he’s like a puppy (he’s not wrong)

You need help moving furniture? He’s there. If something happened? He’s the one you call, and he’s on the phone or on his way until he knows you’re okay. Shopping? Or better yet, cooking? He’ll read the cookbook to you

Speaking of cooking, dinner dates are his forte. He loves taking you somewhere nice to show you that you’re worth his time and money (and to hold your hand). But mostly, he just wants to listen to you and talk with you

Every dinner, while he’s home, is an at-the-table affair so you can both share what’s going on in your lives

And after every dinner is cuddling until bed, unless other activities take priority *wink wink*

You planning time together and asking him about missions makes him feel like the luckiest man alive, because it shows him that you're just as interested in him as he is in you

And of course it doesn’t hurt when you can’t take your hands off him. That’s quality time on a whole new level

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle, soft-spoken man that he is, responds the best to words of affirmation

He’s confident enough, but there’s something about being told when he’s doing things right that really sets his mind and heart at ease

Whether it be on mission or at home, he likes to know he’s not off-base when he thinks he’s done things right

Part of why he and Price are so close is that Price always lets him know how he’s doing

Nothing boosts his confidence like you appreciating him vocally, whether it be for helping you cook or clean or doing the grocery shopping

Obviously, there’s one area of home life that vocal praise means even more

One of his favorite things is coming home to you to hear “I missed you” and “I’m so glad you came back to me”

“I love you” undoes him every time, and it’s his favorite thing to say to you. It isn’t said lightly

He loves with words of affirmation, too

“This meal is delicious” and “thank you for doing my laundry” and “I’m so grateful to have you in my life” are common phrases in your home

John Price

John is old-fashioned. Acts of service are his favorite way to be loved, and gift-giving is his favorite way to give love

With his team, he always makes sure they have the things they need to be comfortable on mission (tea to calm Ghost’s, earplugs so Gaz can sleep, puzzles or some such to occupy Soap’s idle hands)

With you? Birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine’s? You’ll be getting flowers on every one

You’ll probably get flowers just sending him to the grocery store, too

When he travels, he picks up various little things for you he thinks you’ll like

When you need something done, he does it

He does whatever his team needs, too. On or off mission

When you get gifts for him, he doesn’t much care what they are. It’s the thought that counts

He still uses the wallet you got him when you started dating all those years ago

He feels the most loved and cared for when he comes home after a mission to a hot meal, his favorite sweats laid out, and a nice back rub from you

#nightingale writes #nightingale's headcanons #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz #captain john price #john price #price #repost from my alt account

67 notes · View notes

mrmeowski · 3 days ago

Text

˚✧𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐭. 𝟏/𝟐✧˚

Synopsis: An alternate time where they lived as not tales to tell in the dark but actual, living people. Although, they're not much different from the tales... as they still are monsters that aren't afraid to kill to get or protect their beloved.

CW: Yandere tendancies, blood, stalking, slight body horror

A/N: I caved in after a long break. I mean, I couldn't not write a fic about Homicipher! I fell hard for these monster men🥰

Word Count: 5.4k

Characters: 🧡༻✧ Mr. Chopped [1.4k] 💜༻✧ Mr. Crawling [2.2k] 🧡༻✧ Mr. Gap [1.8k]

⋇⊰MR. CHOPPED⊱⋇

Haruto is hard to miss on campus. With his fiery ginger hair and boundless energy, he stood out in every crowd. At just eighteen, he acted more like a child than a college student, bounding around like a ball of energy.

He’d sprint up to classmates, pleading with them to join him in a game. The responses were always the same: excuses, polite rejections, or outright dismissals.

“Maybe later, Haruto.”

“I’m busy right now.”

“No thanks.”

Each rejection chipped away at his smile, but only for a moment. He’d bounce back, laughing off the rejection, and run off to find someone else. You admired his resilience even if you could see through the cracks in his ever-present grin.

There is only one person who occasionally humored his games: a tall, stoic student with silver hair. While Haruto seemed happy to have someone around, it's clear the other student barely tolerated his antics.

You’d watch from the sidelines as he desperately tried to engage the unwilling participant in an overly complicated game of tag or hide-and-seek around campus. Despite his efforts, it's obvious the games weren’t as fun when the enthusiasm isn’t mutual. Still, he carried on, his laughter ringing out like a challenge to the dull, routine college life.

Until now.

It' during your lunch break when you heard it: soft, muffled crying from one of the quieter corners of the library. The sound tugged at your chest, urging you to investigate. Rounding a shelf of dusty textbooks, you saw him.

Haruto, the campus’s eternal ball of sunshine, is crumpled on the floor, his knees pulled to his chest and his face buried in his arms. His usual vibrant energy is replaced with trembling shoulders and quiet sobs.

“Haruto…?” You called out gently.

His head snapped up, wide amber eyes locking onto yours. He hastily scrubbed at his face with his sleeve, forcing a shaky grin to replace the vulnerability you’d just witnessed.

“Oh, hey! W-What are you doing here?” He said, his voice betraying the attempt at cheer. “Looking f-for a book or something? I.. I-I could help!”

Concern swimming in your voice as you spoke, “I should be asking you that... Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! Totally fine!” He waved you off with a laugh that sounded more hollow than his usual bright tone. “Just… resting my eyes. You know how boring studying is!~” You tilted your head, unconvinced.

“...Hey, it’s okay to be upset. You don’t.. have to hide it from me.” Something in your voice seemed to anchor him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.

Looking away, unable to meet your gaze, he managed to push out some words.

“I-It’s just…” he started, his voice breaking into a trembling whisper, “Nobody wants to play with me.” His fingers fidgeted in his lap, clutching at the hem of his uniform as if searching for some comfort.

“I get it… I really do. Everyone’s busy with their work, with exams, with their big, important futures... But—” His voice cracked, and he quickly swiped at the tears pooling in his amber eyes with his sleeve. “That doesn’t give them a reason to be so mean!” His words came out in a rush, raw and vulnerable. His gaze finally met yours, and your heart shattered.

He looked like a child left out in the rain—eyes wide, brimming with unshed tears, and filled with an innocence that felt too pure for this world.

You didn’t think it's possible for a person to express so much emotion, but he defied all expectations.

“I’m… sorry,” you murmured softly, unsure what else to say but desperate to soothe the ache in his voice.

“It’s not your fault,” he muttered, lowering his head again. “I just thought… maybe if I kept smiling, kept trying, someone would eventually want to have fun too. But…” His voice broke again as a single tear slid down his cheek.

Kneeling down beside him, your hand instinctively reaching out to brush away the tear tracing down his cheek.

“Why don’t we play?” You offered softly.

For a moment, he simply stared at you, searching your face as though trying to confirm that your words were real.

“You… you mean it?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were scared you might change your mind.

“Of course,” you grinned. “What do you want to play?” The light in his eyes returned, brighter and brighter, until he's practically glowing.

He sat up straighter, his usual energy bubbling back to the surface, though tinged with disbelief.

“I—I don’t know! I wasn’t expecting anyone to actually say yes!” He laughed, and it is the first real laugh you’d heard from him all day. “We could—oh! Hide-and-seek? Or tag? Or maybe we could build a card tower! No, wait—do you know how to fold paper cranes?”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with him at his excitement infectious.

“Slow down, Haruto! We’ve got time, we can do whatever you want.”

His cheeks flushed a bright red, the warmth of his shy grin making your chest ache in the best way. He scratched the back of his neck, his fingers tangling in the messy strands of his orange hair.

“Hehe… sorry." Voice soft with an almost childlike sheepishness. “I’m just not used to being asked to play… or, well, being asked for anything at all, so I guess I got a little too excited.” He shrugged, glancing at the floor before his gaze flickered toward the clock hanging on the wall then back at you.

“How long’s your break?”

It had been a few weeks since that first encounter in the serenity of the library, where Haruto’s energy had melted, and you’d seen the hidden cracks in his endless joy.

Since then, your days had been peppered with moments spent together, from silly games in the courtyard to quiet talks on the campus benches.

You even met his peculiar silver-haired acquaintance, a stoic figure who always had this... smile in his pale features. The man struck you as strange yet you just dimissed it.

But of course, like him, you had your own life—friends, classes, and responsibilities that didn’t always align with his. Though you cherished the time you spent together, it isn’t always possible to hang out with him all the time.

Unbeknownst to you, he didn’t see it that way.

He didn’t care much for classes. If anything, they were an obstacle, stealing precious moments he could have spent with you. Whenever you weren’t around, his energy waned. It's as though your presence is the only thing keeping his world vibrant.

And when he did catch glimpses of you laughing with your friends during lunch or chatting in the halls.

His blood boiled.

Jealousy is an ugly, consuming thing. It twisted inside him, wrapping around his heart like sharp vines. His cheerful mask stayed firmly in place—he’d perfected it long ago—but beneath it, cracks were forming.

He couldn’t stand it.

That monster inside of him, the one he always kept at bay, clawed its way to the surface. He knew it's wrong, but the thought of you laughing with someone else, sharing the pieces of yourself that he craved, s unbearable.

So, when he saw your closest friend walking alone, his mind snapped. That friend had been stealing your attention, distracting you from him. They were the reason you weren’t his completely. And now... they were going to pay.

He followed silently, amber eyes locked onto their every movement. Like a predator stalking its prey, he kept his distance until the street grew quiet and deserted.

A rock lay nearby, jagged and heavy. He picked it up, gripping it tightly as his knuckles turned white. His breathing quickened and smile widened, stretching unnaturally across his face until it seemed like it might split his cheeks.

When your friend turned curious, he's already rushing forward, his figure a blur of orange and malice. They barely had time to register what's happening before the rock collided with a sickening crunch.

He didn’t stop.

Over and over, the rock came down, staining his hands and clothes as he laughed—a manic, broken sound that echoed in the empty street. Even when your friend’s features became unrecognizable, he didn’t pause. His smile never wavered.

This is for you.

When it's over, he let the rock drop from his bloodied hand, his chest heaving with exhilaration. He wiped his hands on his pants, smearing crimson streaks across the fabric, and looked up at the sky with a soft, almost serene expression.

“You’ll only have me in the end,” he whispered to himself, his voice dripping with quiet satisfaction. “I’ll be the only one you can turn to, the only one you can trust. My arms are the only place you belong… just like it should always be.”

⋇⊰MR. CRAWLING⊱⋇

Kaito—that is his name. One you’d only heard whispered during roll calls or by professors when pressed for an answer. Despite being in the same class for nearly half the semester, you’d barely noticed him—well, not entirely.

Tall and lanky, he looked like a shadow lingering at the edges of your vision. His pale complexion only added to the air of frailty around him, and the dark circles beneath his eyes gave him a perpetually exhausted. He's quiet, too quiet, always sitting alone with a notebook in hand, scribbling away.

Yet, you couldn’t ignore the way his soft, almost wistful smile lingered as he watched the groups of friends laughing together. You’d caught him sneaking glances at you once or twice as well, but each time you tried to meet his gaze, he quickly turned away, his face tinged with pink.

You felt bad for him. Maybe it's the loneliness in his eyes that mirrored your own.

Still, when it came time to pair up for a group assignment, Partners were chosen quickly, laughter and chatter filling the room as people paired up until only two remained.

It's to no surprise that he's left without a partner. Your own friends weren’t in this class, leaving you with little choice but to approach him.

He looked up then, his dark eyes meeting yours as you spoke, "Kaito... do you want to partner up?”

His eyes merely widened a bit and you had to stand in front of him for quite an awkwardly long time before he finally responding, "S-Sure.. it's just the two of us left, right?" True, whether either of you liked it or not, you have no choice.

Still, you wanted to ask him.

You sat on the chair beside him. Up close, you noticed the details you’d missed before—the small scars scattered near his eyes, the way his fingers kept fidgeting with his pen as though trying to mask his nervousness.

Opening your textbook, you placed it on the desk, while he quietly flipped to a fresh page in his notebook. The two of you started working in silence, diving into the labyrinth of symbols and translations required for the project.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that he is doing most of the heavy lifting. You tried to follow along, but the jumble of ancient symbols began to blur together, leaving you feeling overwhelmed.

“You’re really good at this,” you murmured, breaking the silence.

Your eyes stayed glued to the book, but you didn’t miss the way his hand froze mid-note. Slowly, he turned to look at you, his expression one of quiet disbelief, like he hadn’t expected to hear those words directed at him. A shaky smile crept across his lips.

“Th-Thank you,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… doing well too.” You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head.

“Don’t lie. I’m just flipping pages while you’re the one doing all the real work.”

He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck, “It’s not—”

“I mean, look at this!” You interrupted, gesturing to the maze of symbols on the page in front of you. “It all looks the same! How are you even making sense of it?” You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration, leaning back in your chair, distancing yourself from the headache-inducing text.

A faint, amused sound escaping his lips.

“I… I guess I’ve just always been good at patterns,” he said quietly.

His gaze lingered on you as you sighed in frustration, lips pursed and brows furrowed in concentration. There's something endearing about you and a hint of admiration flickered in his tired, dark eyes. Though he quickly looked away, pretending to refocus on the notebook in front of him.

His pen hovered over the page, his progress slowing. Deep down, he didn’t want to finish it. Each moment spent working with you felt precious, and the thought of the task ending meant the excuse to spend time together would be gone. But time had a cruel way of moving faster especially with someone you like.

The sharp ring of the bell shattered the quiet bubble the two of you had been working in. He blinked, the sound jarring him back to reality. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been smiling until it faded, replaced by a dull ache in his chest.

The teacher’s voice became a distant murmur, instructions about wrapping up barely registering. He didn’t move, still staring at the open notebook, feeling strangely hollow. That , until your voice cut through the fog.

“Hey, you good?” You asked, wrapping an arm around your book.

Kaito startled slightly, looking up at you.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he stammered, quickly gathering his notebook and pen. “I just… spaced out, I guess. I-I do that uh.. quite a lot ahaha...”

“You sure?” Raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring at that page for, like, a solid minute. You were so super focused and all.” Your teasing smile made his cheeks flush a faint pink, and he ducked his head, trying to hide it.

"S-Sorry,” he mumbled.

You laughed, “Well, don’t let it get to you. But seriously, I don’t know how I would’ve survived this without you.”

His lips parting as though he wanted to say something, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he nodded, clutching his notebook a little tighter.

“See you tomorrow?” You asked, pausing at the door.

“Y-Yeah,” he replied quickly, a little too eagerly.

You gave him one last smile before disappearing into the hallway, leaving him alone in the classroom. He stayed there for a moment, staring at the spot where you’d sat, his heart thudding in his chest.

Tomorrow. It isn’t much, but it' enough at least.

That conversation between you and Kaito replayed in his mind endlessly. For weeks, those stolen glances you two had shared across the room had been the highlight of his days, but now? Now he had something more—actual words, a connection, no matter how small.

But those interactions came at a cost. His nights grew restless, filled with vivid dreams and fantasies that left him feeling dazed when he woke up. He found himself longing for more moments with you.

Since the assignment brought you closer, he began to use your newfound acquaintance as a reason to linger near you. He’d sit beside you during breaks, his quiet presence soothing. He always seemed to know where you are, finding ways to cross paths with you after class.

You quickly realized that he is incredibly sweet. There is a warmth to his awkwardness that made it hard not to smile. He had this endearing habit of sticking close, always trailing behind you like a shadow, his tall frame somehow making his devotion seem both protective and.. puppy-like.

He also had a knack for being helpful. Whether it's explaining complex history topics, organizing your notes, or even packing your bag when you were running late, he always seemed eager to lighten your load. At lunch, he’d quietly take your empty tray without a word.

“You don’t have to do all this, you know,” you said one day, watching as he rearranged your books neatly into your bag.

“I know,” he replied softly, avoiding your gaze. “But I want to.” His sincerity always catch you off guard.

His eyes, dark and tired as they often seemed, held a vulnerability that made your heart ache. He isn’t just being kind—he's trying, in his own quiet way, to make himself indispensable to you.

And, little by little, it worked. You found yourself looking forward to his presence. But there is something about the way he always seemed to be there, watching, waiting, that would sent a chill up your spine.

You brushed it off, convincing yourself it was nothing. After all, he's just harmless, isn't he? Just a sweet, shy guy who wanted to help... right?

Well... the day came when your doubts turned into something far more tangible, far more terrifying.

It was a cold night, and the streets were empty as you made your way home. The air carried a biting chill that seeped into your bones and the dim streetlights cast long, eerie shadows across the pavement. Ever since you’d left your friend’s house, you’d felt it—a presence just out of sight.

You kept glancing over your shoulder but each time, the street behind you was empty. It’s just paranoia, you told yourself, shaking your head and quickening your pace. Yet, as you crossed an alleyway, the feeling became undeniable.

Before you could react, an arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you back into the shadows. Another hand clamped over your mouth, muffling the scream that tore from your throat. The furry fabric of their jacket brushed against your skin as you thrashed, but your attacker’s grip was unyielding.

You kicked and struggled, panic flooding your veins like ice, but it was no use. They were too strong. Then, amidst the sound of your muffled cries and your heart pounding in your ears, you heard a voice calling your name.

“[Name]!!” His voice was desperate, the footsteps quick and unsteady.

Your eyes widened as you spotted him at the mouth of the alleyway—Kaito. He was dressed entirely in black, a hood obscuring most of his features save for a glimpse of raven-black hair; the slightest bit of his eyes showing through the strands; and his slightly parted lips as he caught sight of you.

You tried to cry out, but your voice was trapped beneath the stranger’s hand.

The desperation in his expression hardened into something colder, something sharp and dangerous. His usual timid demeanor seemed to melt away as he stepped closer, his eyes locked onto the man holding you.

“Let them go,” he hissed.

The stranger only tightened their grip on you, a mocking laugh escaping their throat, “And what are you gonna do about it, kid?”

He didn’t respond. His dark eyes flicked to the trash can nearby, and before you could even register what he was planning, he grabbed the metal lid. With startling precision, he hurled it at the attacker.

A sickening crunch followed as the metal lid struck the stranger’s face. They yelped in pain, their grip on you loosening as they stumbled backward and crumpled to the ground. You staggered forward, gasping for air as you clutched your chest, your legs trembling beneath you.

But he wasn’t done.

He strode past you without a word, his shoulders tense, his movements deliberate.

“Kaito?” You called weakly, your voice shaking.

He didn’t acknowledge you. Instead, he knelt down, retrieving the trash can lid. His grip was firm, his knuckles white as he raised it high above his head.

You watched in horror as the first strike came down with a nauseating thud, the sound of metal meeting flesh reverberating in the narrow alleyway.

You flinched. Then another blow came, and another, each one more forceful, more brutal. The crunch of bone and the wet, sickening sound that followed made your stomach churn.

Your body refused to move. You stood there, shaking, your breath coming in shallow gasps as tears welled up in your eyes. The sounds—the violence—it was too much.

“Kaito!” You finally screamed, your voice breaking. “Please... stop!”

Finally, the onslaught ceased. The silence that followed was deafening, save for your ragged breathing and the faint clang as he let the blood-soaked lid slip from his hands.

His pale skin were stained with blood, his dark hair matted to his forehead. His wide eyes, bloodshot and wild, locked onto yours.

But what sent a cold shiver down your spine was the smile that crept across his face—a smile too wide, too unnatural.

He giggled, a soft, unsettling sound, and began walking toward you. Instinctively, you took a step back, but your foot caught on a loose rock. You stumbled, falling onto the cold pavement.

He stopped in front of you and knelt, bloodstained fingers brushing against his knees as he tilted his head to observe your frightened features.

“There’s no reason to be scared anymore,” he murmured, his voice soft and almost comforting if it were not with the situation. “I already dealt with it.”

His giggle returned, light and playful, like he hadn’t just done something horrifying.

“W-Why?” You choked out, your voice barely audible. “Why would you do that?!” Your mind raced with questions, a realization dawning on you. “Kaito… were you… w-were you follo—” Before you could finish, his blood-soaked finger trailed gently across your cheek, silencing you.

The sensation made your breath hitch, and he chuckled at your reaction.

“I was expecting a thank you, you know? Not questions...” He teased, his tone light and cheerful. Then, he placed his hand on top of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he gently ruffled it. “Hehe! But you’re adorable! I think that’s enough…~”

You could only stare at him, your body trembling with fear and confusion. His grin never faltered, his eyes gleaming with twisted affection

As he stood, towering over you, he extended a hand. You didn't take it. You couldn't.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he pouted. "I'm not the bad guy here! You know that I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.” Perhaps those words were too literal.

It just seemed that no matter where you were, he’d always be crawling back to your side whether you like it or not.

⋇⊰MR. GAP⊱⋇

What an absolute jerk.

You couldn’t help but glare at the man standing in front of you, his pale skin making the dark circles under his eyes even more prominent. His wavy, medium-length raven hair framed his smug face, and that ever-present, arrogant grin made your blood boil.

“What’s the matter? Just going to stare at me? You want this book, right?” He teased, holding the textbook just out of reach.

His laughter was sharp, echoing in the quiet of the library. This guy, Sukima, was the worst. He was always around, always popping up when you least wanted him.

It was as if he lived to make your life just a little more inconvenient. Like right now—when the book you needed was on a high shelf, and just as you were about to grab the ladder, he appeared out of nowhere, snatching it before you could.

He did this constantly, not just to you, but to everyone. Most people had learned to avoid him, except for the new students who hadn’t yet seen through his charm. But for you and the others, his antics were old news. They had grown sick of him, and you were no different.

"Heeeey, my arm’s getting tired," he taunted, swinging the book playfully. "I might just put it back, unless you—"

Before he could finish that infuriating sentence, you swiftly kicked him in the groin, your foot connecting squarely with his vulnerable spot.

He let out a yelp of pain, doubling over and dropping the book. You caught it with ease, your eyes narrowing as you turned on your heel.

"Go mess with someone else," you spat, walking away without sparing him another glance.

You missed the way his grin faltered, replaced with a deep frown as he clutched his groin.

“That’s not very kind of you!” He called after you, his voice strained but still carrying that mocking tone as he tried to catch up. “I was doing you a favor, and this is the thanks I get?”

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt.

“I’m not some new student you can mess with,” you retorted, marching toward the librarian’s desk to check out the book.

"Why do you always assume the worst of me?" He's tone shifted slightly, but you weren’t having any of it.

He always played these games, always tried to twist things in his favor but you weren’t falling for it.

"You act like an ass, Sukima," you said bluntly, handing the book to the librarian. "What else am I supposed to assume?"

He chuckled behind you, his voice taking on that playful lilt again, "Well, maybe I'm just misunderstood. Ever think of that?"

You didn’t even bother responding as you took the book back and started heading for the exit. Yet, of course, he wasn’t done.

"I’ll see you around, you know," he called after you, his grin returning as he leaned against a nearby bookshelf. "I’ll pop back again~"

You sighed, not sparing a glance back at him, "I’m sure you will..."

Thank the heavens he wasn’t in your classes. If he were, you’d surely lose your sanity. Still, that didn’t mean you could avoid him entirely. Somehow, he always found a way to cross your path. Whether it was coincidence or intentional, you couldn’t tell.

If he was teasing someone else and spotted you, he'd drop them like a bad habit and rush over. The pattern had become so obvious that other students started using you as a shield, calling your name whenever he begans bothering them.

“Hey, it’s [Name]!” Someone shouted from the other side of the courtyard, and dread sank in your stomach like a stone.

Against your better judgment, you turned around. Sure enough, there he was—his lanky frame looming over the wide-eyed freshman.

The moment he heard your name, though, his entire demeanor shifted. He straightened, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, and started toward you with open arms.

“[Naaaame]!~” He called out in an exaggerated tone, giggling as he approached. “It’s been forever, hasn’t it?”

You shot him a glare. “It’s been a day, Sukima. Piss off.” You sidestepped him just as he was about to pull you into one of his infamous, unwanted hugs.

His pout was almost comical.

“Aw, come ooon,” he whined, flipping a strand of hair out of his face with dramatic flair. “Such a sunny day, and you’re so grumpy. Honestly, I’m doing you a favor by gracing you with my presence. And for free, no less!”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You look like you crawled out of a sewer. I’m doing you a favor by tolerating you.”

His gasp was theatrical, as if you’d mortally wounded him, “How cruel!” He cried, clutching his chest.

You ignored him and brushed past, determined to get to class on time. But just as you moved forward, you collided with someone else, nearly losing your balance as books tumbled to the ground.

“Ah, shit, I’m so sorry!” You blurted, crouching to help gather the fallen books.

“N-No, it’s my fault,” the other student mumbled, kneeling to join you.

His bangs obscured most of his face, but you recognized him immediately—a quiet guy from one of your lectures.

“Hey, I know you,” you said, handing him a book. “And seriously, don’t apologize. I’m the one who wasn’t paying attention.”

He blinked at you, his cheeks turning faintly pink as he accepted the books.

“Th-Thank you,” he murmured, bowing slightly before hurrying off.

You smiled softly, watching him leave, only to feel Sukima’s presence looming behind you like a storm cloud.

“See?” You said, turning to face him. “That’s how it should be—an apology and a thank-you. Not ‘you owe me one.’” You rolled your eyes, brushing past him again.

He scoffed, his grin faltering as soon as you turned your back. His gaze flicked to the other student, now disappearing into the crowd, and his jaw tightened.

He’d caught the way that guy looked at you—the faint blush, the soft gratitude—and it made something ugly stir in his chest.

Sukima never cared much for classes. They were a tedious obligation, forced upon him by parents who still clung to the belief that he could make something of himself.

His grades were just enough to keep him afloat, a fact he took little pride in. So, skipping wasn’t a big deal—it just gave him more time to focus on things that truly piqued his interest. Like that student.

He leaned casually against the wall in the shadowy corner of the hallway, his dark eyes scanning the crowd as students began trickling out of their classrooms. He spotted him easily, the boy with the long bangs and timid demeanor, standing out in his gaze like a sore thumb.

The student moved with quiet purpose, pulling a striking red umbrella from his bag as he prepared to step into the rain.

He smirked. That color is disgusting, he thought, the brightness almost mocking his preference for muted tones. Still, he didn’t follow. Not yet. He had learned patience in these situations.

If you followed too closely, people noticed. And he hated being noticed when he didn’t want to be. The way students veered away from him in the hallways, their whispers trailing after him, only made it harder to move unnoticed.

The rain picked up, pattering against the windows as the student stepped outside, the crimson umbrella unfurling like a blooming flower. Sukima lingered just a moment longer, his smirk softening into something unreadable.

He wasn’t worried about losing sight of his target. He knew this town better than anyone—its alleyways, its shortcuts, its cracks.

This was his playground.

Pulling his hood up to shield himself from the rain, he slipped out a glass doors, taking a roundabout route to intersect with the student’s path.

The streets were quiet, save for the soft drumming of rain and the occasional splash of tires through puddles. His footsteps were nearly silent as he moved, weaving through narrow alleyways with practiced ease.

He didn’t need to see the red umbrella to know exactly where the student was.

His sharp gaze locked onto the crimson umbrella as he reached the end of the alley. The brightness of it against the dim, rainy backdrop only served to irritate him further.

Hidden in the shadows, he toyed with the flick knife in his hand, the blade glinting faintly in the dull light. Without hesitation, he surged forward, closing the gap between himself and the student.

The boy barely had time to react. Their eyes met—wide, terrified against Sukima’s predatory calm. The umbrella slipped from his grasp, forgotten as his hand shot out, gripping him by the throat and slamming him against the wet brick wall.

"W-Wait—" The student gasped, his voice strangled as Sukima’s grip tightened. "If it’s money you need! I-I have some! Please—just let me go!"

His dark chuckle echoed in the narrow alley.

"Money? Do I look like I give a damn about that?" He leaned closer, his breath cold against the student’s clammy skin. "No, no. I want you to leave [Name] alone. Permanently. Understand?" His words were laced with venom, his smile unnervingly wide.

The student’s face paled further.

Panic flickered in his eyes as he stammered, "O-Okay! I get it! I swear I’ll leave them alone!" He writhed in Sukima’s grasp, desperate to free himself.

His legs kicked, his hands clawed weakly at the arm pinning him, but Sukima barely flinched.

The struggle was almost pathetic. Though the student was taller, his frail build was no match for Sukima’s wiry strength. His grin twisted further, his satisfaction palpable as he effortlessly deflected the boy’s weak attempts at resistance.

"No, no, no." He shook his head mockingly, his grip tightening enough to make the student wheeze. "Words aren’t enough for me. I need… assurance." His gaze dropped to the student’s trembling arms. With a flick of his blade, the sharp edge caught the faint light once more. "You won’t be needing that, will you?"

The student’s eyes widened in horror as his intent became clear.

"W-Wait! No, please—!"

But he wasn’t listening. The blade moved swiftly, slicing into the student’s arm. The rain mixed with the crimson flow that seeped from the wound. The boy screamed, a piercing sound that echoed through the alley as the knife tore through flesh.

He met resistance at the bone, the blade catching on it with a sickening scrape. The student thrashed harder, his screams turning into ragged cries of pain. Blood coated Sukima’s hand, slick and hot, but his expression remained cold, focused.

"You’ll live," he muttered, his voice devoid of any real emotion. "But I doubt you’ll ever forget this." He pressed harder, forcing the blade deeper, until the student’s strength finally gave out.

His body slumped, but Sukima’s grip held him upright, ensuring the boy couldn’t collapse entirely.

He looked down on the atisfied, he let go abruptly, allowing the student to fall to the wet ground. He knelt briefly, his voice soft yet dripping with malice.

"Remember this pain every time you even think about [Name]. Next time, you'd lose more than an arm."

What Could've Been Pt. 2/2» [WIP] Request» Masterlist»

#homicipher #homicipher x reader #mr chopped head #mr chopped x reader #mr crawling #mr crawling x reader #mr gap #mr gap x reader

125 notes · View notes

khys-treasure-box · 1 day ago

Text

AN: Been having major brainrot for him since he released, so now ya'll get to hear me yap about this terminally ill goober.

CW: None other than some brief references to his illness here and there! Otherwise though, just pure fluff and silliness with Haru! No pronouns are used for reader, so this is gender neutral! <3

I will not ever apologize for speaking my truth and saying I 100% believe Harumasa is absolutely, positively clingy as a partner.

So long as you two are together, he'll whine and pout damn near like a child any time he has to be separated from you. Can you really blame him though? He can't ever really say he knows how long he has left, so every single second he could be spending with you is of practically life-and-death importance to him; it isn't his fault he has to be so clingy! Besides, any reasonable person that loves their partner should want to be around them often, right?

That in mind, he will take literally any excuse he can to have you by his side. Well, as long as he's not at work anyway, he can't exactly take you to work with him, all things considered. So long as he's off work and you aren't at work yourself though, he's practically gotta be with you all the time. You need to do a grocery run? No matter what condition he's in, he'll try to come with you. Going to get lunch with a friend? He insists that surely they'd be fine with your oh so sweet boyfriend being there too. You want to go see a movie at the cinema for once instead of watching it at home way after it releases? Well, he just has to go with you; you'll have to forgive him if he falls asleep halfway through the movie though...

What he enjoys the most though are your shared days in. He absolutely loves getting to just stay home with you all day. Even if the day is full of nothing but basic, mundane activities, he's perfectly content. Just having you there is more than enough for him. So long as you're there he can kiss, cuddle, and bug you as much as he wants! There's also the plus of having you there to play doctor for him if he gets to feeling unwell, which he certainly prefers to having to deal with real doctors. It's all a win for him! He doesn't have to go anywhere and you're right there with him!

Under circumstances where you can't be with him in person for a while for whatever reason, he may very well insist on, at the least, texting back and forth regularly if not staying on a phone call with you while you're apart. Makes him feel less lonely and a lot less worried about you, because believe me, he worries. He worries a lot. Ironic as it is, he gets concerned that something bad is going to happen to you while he's not there. Probably just as concerned as you get about him on the regular, if not somehow more actually??? Please don't let him worry too hard, it might make him feel sicker than usual. :(

No matter what, so long as you're dating Harumasa, you'd better be prepared to be spending a lot of quality time with him. <3

#khy thoughts #asaba harumasa #asaba harumasa x reader #harumasa x reader #zzz harumasa #fluff #fluffy thoughts #zenless zone zero #zzzero #zzz

89 notes · View notes

sundered-sadist · 2 days ago

Note

I've been getting into long(er than usual)-term edging recently, today is my 1 week mark, and I really need motivation. Can you give me one or ten reasons why I should keep being denied?

First, I’d recommend asking nicely and using manners in the future. I generally prefer using more personalized reasons, but you denial sluts are pretty easy to convince.

1. It’s selfless. Your orgasms are purely self-fulfilling and detract from the pleasure of others around you. Denial is a step towards serving others.

2. It’s addicting. As much as you say you struggle with denial, as you push yourself to stay denied for longer, you’ll learn edging is all you need. One quick edge turns into an hour of edging, and you can’t get enough.

3. It’s useful. By maintaining consistent edges, you open yourself up to more depraved, embarrassing experiences. Things you swore off suddenly become interesting, and that makes you more useful for others.

4. It’s productive. Keeping yourself in that heightened, needy state is a form of self-training and regulation. All that work you put into being a desperate mess saves dominants like myself the effort of getting you to that state. You’ll be desperately sensitive, throbbing, constantly reminded of your dominant.

5. It’s challenging. As fun as it can be, edging and long-term denial is hard. Then again, why do you deserve the easy route? Your purpose is to suffer and struggle.

6. It’s rewarding. That pride you felt after making it one week denied? Just think how much better and more accomplished you’ll feel one month in, then 3 months in.

7. It’s non-stop. Denial will start to seep into your daily life. After long enough, your mind will start thinking of edging during any downtime. It’ll be harder to leave a submissive, needy headspace.

8. It’s loyalty. What better way to display your submission and dedication to a dominant than swearing off such a powerful, direct form of pleasure? Denial helps you stay true to the power exchange.

9. It’s confusing. Eventually, their pleasure is your pleasure. You won’t really understand why, but every time they cum, it’ll just feel so, so good to you. Their satisfaction will become even more important to you, one of the only important things to you. You don’t need to know why, you only need to know it feels good.

10. It’s degrading. You truly are a depraved creature. You know this, we all know it too. You don’t get normal sex, you get used.

11. It’s a privilege. You’re lucky to receive such dedicated, frequent attention from your denial. You could go on, cumming as you like and exercising free will, but that doesn’t satisfy you. You need this, and it’s a privilege to stay denied for those better than you.

Are you feeling motivated, anon?

#edging and denial #edging kink #control kink #denial kink #mind corruption #answered asks

54 notes · View notes

randomfoggytiger · 2 days ago

Text

The Field Where I Died: The Tragic Flaws of Glen Morgan and James Wong

My thoughts on The Field Where I Died are divided into neat little categories for this episode: frustration for what we were given, acceptance of its existence, anger at Glen Morgan and James Wong's behind-the-scenes revelations, acknowledgment of their feelings, determination that the end product's truth was different than what was originally conceptualized, and genuine understanding of others' love for its creativity and vision.

But those thoughts are inseparable from a broader perspective of Morgan and Wong's work on Season 4.

I'm going to be pulling a lot of information from an interview here; but to save time (and sanity), I'll emphasize the quotes in italics instead of continually citing my source.

"I CAN DO BETTER" VISIONARIES

(Credit to: @sleepyscully.)

It's no secret that Morgan and Wong always wrote-- shall we say-- angsty episodes that drove a wedge in Mulder and Scully's relationship. Sometimes that was executed brilliantly-- Squeeze, Beyond the Sea, Home, Never Again-- and sometimes that was executed... badly. Their bent is the nature of conflict, and its potential resolution; or ideals and tarnished realities; or things we thought we knew and understood but never really did. And those are powerful tools... if, like all tools, they're wielded effectively.

They're the difference between the ridiculous conceit of Musings of a CSM-- an episode that set everyone against each other (we'll get to that)-- and Beyond the Sea-- and episode that wowed Carter (convincing him to keep Gillian on the show), fans, and critics alike.

I've already tackled how The Field Where I Died could work here (how Scully broke the cycle) and here (Scully, snakes, and reincarnation.) I have no qualms with the idea that Mulder and Scully themselves aren't romantic soulmates in every lifetime: that was never the magic of their relationship, to me. And I do love the concept that Melissa serves as a contrast for Mulder: as Morgan says,

One reason why I wrote Melissa that way was my notion that if you’re Mulder and you found your soulmate, the love of all your loves, within the body of this unappealing person, what would you do? I don’t know if we totally explored that. I don’t know if Duchovny would agree with me – he knows more about Mulder – but I think Melissa is the type of women that Mulder would be attracted to. Someone like Bambi in ��The War of the Coprophages’ is good for a joke, but I don’t really see Mulder going after her. There’s something sad about Melissa. There was a secret within her that was important for him to get at. That mirrors his life, and his own search for his sister. He is a character whose whole drive is to help everybody, but he’s so unsuccessful at that, and with helping himself. All he wants is to find one person that he can rescue – but he’s not too good at it.

No matter how despairing Mulder is, Morgan said, he would not be tempted, like Melissa, to end his life. “I looked at Melissa as if she decided reincarnation might be true, and that if she had chosen this life, at that point she realized, ‘This is a bad idea. This is a miserable life and I’m not getting much out of it. I’m just going back to heaven and I’ll wait for you.’ She wanted out. But Mulder, as much as he’d love to go to the other side to see what’s there, is a life-affirming character. He’s going to keep on looking. He’s not going to quit. Mulder has questions for this life.”

That rings true to me.

What I do have qualms with is that Mulder and Scully's incredible, undeniable, written-into-canon-at-this-point connection (that was established in the Pilot, purposefully, by Chris Carter himself, post here) is boiled down to a destined, warped tri-connection that is part of and secondary to his (chemistry-less) connection with a woman that doomed him in every lifetime. A woman who is an unreliable narrator, and who could easily be swaying Mulder into believing her story because of her own form of mental instability and fragility. It could be a beautiful love story, and it's undeniably beautifully shot (and mostly beautifully written), but it's not Mulder's-- it's Morgan's:

For Morgan, an episode about reincarnation and eternal soulmates was not just a good story for Mulder, but a personal expression of the thoughts and emotions he had experienced during the past year, when his relationship with Cloke grew from friendship into romance (they are now engaged), “I had gone through a failed marriage in which I had really believed,” Morgan revealed. “I had always wanted to believe there is somebody out there for you, and I had been in a situation where that didn’t come true. And I thought, ‘It’s a lie. That person you think is out there for you is a lie.’ But then I met Kristen and I was rejuvenated by that. I really thought. that you can be reborn in this life, not just life after death. I regained faith that there is one person for you, one person who, by being in your life, can motivate you to change the crappy things you were doing before. In this case, it was Kristen. I knew she did a lot of characters and voices, so I wanted to incorporate that.. I wanted to write something for her that challenged her. Also, I wanted to write something for David Duchovny that challenged him.”

("Challenged", indeed.)

And that... that rubs me the wrong way.

NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU

I'm not here for Glen's romance, I'm sorry. I'm here to be persuaded that Mulder might have a soulmate, that Scully might be a soulmate, that all three could be bound in this doomed pattern for lifetimes; and if that cycle was broken with Melissa Ephesian's death. (More importantly: does Mulder and/or Scully believe it's broken?) What we were given instead was a memoir to love in general that shoehorned itself into the show without regard for canon.

I'm not angry with TFWID as much as I am other episodes (most of Existence and canon onward, for example) because Mulder and Scully's characterization never strays-- Field may have been carelessly wedged in, but it was skillful with its emotional exploration. Further, the events and facts presented so summarily contradict each other that there's no real "threat" propped up by its existence. And, while I can't excuse the cringe-inducing acting from Morgan's wife, I can explain why DD's turned out so "badly" (read: jarringly):

Bowman’s director’s cut ran so long that Morgan and Wong were forced to trim twenty minutes out of the episode.... Morgan felt that the emotional impact of Mulder’s hypnosis session might have been marred by the cutting, since it interfered with the flow of Duchovny’s acting throughout the entire scene. “I called David and I said, ‘I’m cutting it this way.’ I could hear that he was upset. I know what actors go through to prepare, and then to have to sit in a chair for a couple of hours in front of a bunch of grips and gaffers and people that they hang out with everyday, and cry – it’s just like taking off your clothes. And then to find it’s been cut out. I had to come home and tell Kristen, ‘Look, this part is coming out.’ She was upset and David was upset. Jim was off prepping ‘Musings of Cigarette Smoking Man’ or doing something and I was just very alone.’

(For context, the hypnosis scene was originally twelve minutes long.)

While I might be tempted to sympathize with Morgan, he didn't extend that sympathy equally to his wife or Duchovny, instead turning this combined loss into a one-sided self-pity party.

MULDER THE SACRIFICE, SCULLY THE SAVIOR

I also have a theory that Carter was writing Scully as a savior and Mulder as a sacrificial lamb for the mainline series (until he made William a magic baby and ruined eight years of build-up), post here.

There's a reason that The X-Files is told through Scully's perspective; and that Mulder is often compared to Ahab chasing the White Whale, to a man on a fated quest, to a boy who lost his sister and can't live freely until he has that closure. There's a reason that Scully is Mulder's "one-in-five billion", his salvation ("But you saved me!"), his constant, his touchstone-- and his "human credential", as David Duchovny put it. There's a reason that Carter banked an entire series off of a chemistry and bond he wrote into the graveyard scene, and maintains that that is when Mulder and Scully fell in love (though to what degree is up for fanon interpretation.) There's a reason that the CSM was wrong to picture Mulder as a Christ-like figure, and Scully was right to walk into Mulder's subconscious and rescue him with the truth ("Get up and fight.") There's a reason that Mulder's rescue in Deep Throat underscores his and Scully's partnership from then on out: he in danger-- be it from Jersey Devils, moth men, fated love triangles, Houston bombs, brain surgery, alien abduction-- and she his rescuer (discussed a little here.)

Why is this important? Because The Field Where I Died's concept is not without canonical merit: Mulder running headlong into danger, Scully holding him back long enough to prevent the cycle from repeating. And it ties into the mytharc's ad nauseam question of Fate v. Freewill (posts here and here.) TFWID could even work if you factor in the theory of Scully's immortality (post here.)

But the reality is, Morgan and Wong were not going for canonical adherence.

THE WONDER OF THE SUPERNATURAL, THE FAILURE OF THE HUMAN CONNECTION

Episodic timeline goofs and gaffes aside, the problems in The Field Where I Died lie deeper than which woman Mulder loves and which one he perpetually makes friendship bracelets with. The greatest problem arrives, settles, and stains with the introduction of soulmates: the recontextualization of the infamous MSR dynamic.

Morgan was focusing again on Mulder and Scully as humans; but he fumbled, amplifying then explaining away their "unspoken" as a supernatural connection rather than the meeting of uncannily similar minds:

Apart from personal considerations, Morgan and Wong wanted to reorient the show’s attitude towards the paranormal, which they felt in the third session had been expressed far too often as something evil or wrong. “The paranormal isn’t about death or evil,” Morgan said. “It’s about wonder.” In line with this approach, he and Wong wanted to avoid writing a conventional villain; instead, the principal conflicts take place between Mulder and Scully or are internal, with both Mulder and Melissa haunted by their pasts, in this life, and perhaps previous lives.

Morgan and Wong wanted to zero in on two humans, and all their complications as such, brushing up against the unfathomable, neutral force beyond their comprehension... but then ruined that message, that build-up, by justifying the personal, human aspect-- their connection-- by making it inhuman, unnatural, and supernatural, too. All the while, of course, telling us (and believing themselves) that fans were upset because they introduced another romance for Mulder.

(As a side note: why do I excuse-- for lack of a better word-- David Duchovny's similar sentiments towards TFWID and its reception? Firstly, he, and others, genuinely loves it; and I'm happy for him. To David, it seems, love is more powerful when it is guaranteed for a lifetime and beyond-- the insecurity of someone falling out of love, platonically or romantically, is more powerful than a finite and fickle love that can be lost or tarnished. That being his interpretation-- and Morgan's intention-- I can see why he'd love TFWID. It's a powerful sentiment. More importantly, the man doesn't hold it against fans-- he thinks they misinterpreted its intent-- like Morgan thought they did-- understands why it would disgruntle, but maintains that he loves it, regardless. I can respect that position, even if we disagree; because the heart likes what it likes. I, for one, have my own likes that others might hate.)

LAZILY WRITTEN

The greatest mistake of all-- one Morgan humbly recognizes-- is the faults in the writing. Well... more accurately, that he and Wong failed to keep a complete vision that would (most definitely, guys) translate better to audiences. His ideas, I concede, were intriguing; but like all mediums, the final product is what audiences are left to judge and believe in. For TFWID, it was mixed up before the scenes were filmed, and hacked apart after the footage was wrapped-- so much so, that Morgan kept realizing the magnitude of his mistakes after the fact:

Under hypnosis, Mulder describes a scene of death and destruction from the Warsaw ghetto; in this past life, he is a Jewish woman, Scully is his father, Samantha is his son, and the Cigarette Smoking Man is a Gestapo officer.

Next he [Mulder] becomes Sullivan Biddle, already dead in battle, Scully is his sergeant, and Melissa is there, as Sarah. He has no information on the bunkers, all he sees is death. Morgan wrote these scenes to express the overwhelming sense of loss that Mulder has felt his entire life. The scene was shot in extreme close-up, inspired, Morgan said, by his love of Ingmar Bergman’s films. “To spend three quarters of an act, six or seven minutes, in close-up, on television, is wonderful,” he said. “On TV, we’re always cutting back and forth. We’re always blowing stuff up. Jim and I participate in that. Act Four of ‘Home’ couldn’t be more different than act three of ‘The Field Where I Died.’ I’m proud of that. ”

(And you might have blown it, Glen.)

Morgan’s enthusiasm for the scene was not matched by a good number of the show’s fans, who felt the scene was overwrought, both in the writing, and in Duchovny’s performance. “I think both Kristen and David did a great job,” Morgan said. “David just can’t win. If he walks around going, ‘Scully, I’m going here. Oh. Extreme possibilities,’ everyone says, ‘...that guy just mumbles his way through.’ If he emotes, people don’t want to see that. People can say his acting was bad. I don’t think that it was, but some felt it was obviously ‘acting.’ It’s in a close-up, it’s a long monologue, so it points to acting.

(An unnecessarily long scene that, unfortunately, had to be chopped; and was chopped so badly that, consequently, it lost its nuance and made Duchovny look like a fool by proxy.)

Bowman’s director’s cut ran so long that Morgan and Wong were forced to trim twenty minutes out of the episode, including eliminating one of Melissa’s personalities, a crude loudmouth named Jobee, as well information that supported Scully’s viewpoint, and large sections from Melissa’s and Mulder’s hypnosis sessions

“If we’d focused on Scully’s viewpoint more, we could have thrown up the idea that maybe Mulder’s wrong, maybe this is just wishful thinking,” Morgan added. “I know this sounds really bad, but to me the hypnosis scene is more important than a teaser. I was desperate to cut out time, and in favoring emotional content over plot content, I might have blown it.”

[Morgan]: "... I read a post online asking why Scully was always a man in the past, and I hadn’t thought about that. I wish I had altered that; it was a mistake.”

And it wasn't just TFWID that was littered with inconsistencies in service to Morgan and Wong's vision.

TFWID, "MUSINGS", AND THE BLAME GAME

When Morgan and Wong returned from their other writing projects, they had to decide whether to leave the studio-- angry at its interference-- or take a deal and partly work for The X-Files and Millennium. Obviously they chose the latter, and rejoined after a hiatus of one or two years. In that time, the X-Files had become a hit. But M and W had changes, and plans to execute those changes, in mind: they both thought that the show had strayed from its original vision-- again, the "wonder" of the paranormal and supernatural-- and would be set to (better) rights with their input and direction.

Not all of their work was flawed-- Home and Never Again were tightly written-- and not all of their ideas were self-involved. For example: when joining the show, they and the other writers were told this season's purpose was to drive a wedge between Mulder and Scully, and framed Never Again around that idea:

“My understanding at the beginning of the year was that we were going to drive to a point where Mulder and Scully didn’t trust each other,” Morgan said. His own scenario for plotting out the season was somewhat different from what Carter and the other writers came up with this year, but the fundamental issue was the same: trust. “I would have slowly split Mulder and Scully up over the course of the season, then in the last episode have Scully put Mulder away for his own good, which he would perceive as the ultimate betrayal,” Morgan said. “And then the next season, they would have had an entire year’s healing to go through.”

That's not an entirely unreasonable direction to take, either.

The other writers had other plans. For good or ill, it was Chris's show; and Chris wanted to steer it in a certain direction. Those who joined and added their thoughts cohesively helped construct the mainline arcs that bloomed into Season 4's cancer revelation and Season 5's lack of faith, as well as building up Fight the Future concurrently. M and W, however, felt bruised when their visions were either tweaked or countermanded; and left the experience disgruntled. For good or ill, Chris Carter, Glen Morgan, and James Wong all had good and bad ideas; but only one of them had created the show-- something which the latter two couldn't, at times, accept.

Case and point: I detour to Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man because that episode-- from its conception to its creation to its execution-- explains clearly what led Morgan and Wong astray.

Home was successful, The Field Where I Died much less so. For both episodes, Chris Carter seemed content to let Morgan and Wong do whatever they wanted. However, a shift occurred when fans fell out of sync with M and W's vision (TFWID); and that shift manifested when Glen and James immediately wanted to jump into a CSM backstory, the mytharc domain of CC. Both writers felt the big bad of The X-Files had become gutless; and they wanted to inject some terror into him by killing off Frohike in the end. Per their original vision, the narrative element was excluded and CSM would reclaim his villainy via a Forrest Gump monologue then follow through by gunning down an innocent man. Chris Carter, meanwhile, did not want Frohike killed and did not think that CSM would care to waste time murdering a relative nobody to his life and work. William B. Davis, CSM's actor, was also insistent this version of CSM was not his character; and was so dissatisfied with it that he called up CC himself. Carter tried to appease all sides with a compromise: letting M and W write what they wanted (within limits) and reassuring himself and WBD that this episode wasn't canon:

Davis promptly called Carter to ask if this was the real history of the Cigarette Smoking Man (Carter told him no).

...“The Cigarette Smoking Man’s flashbacks were my idea, because I indeed wanted the episode to be a memoir,” Morgan said. But the idea that Frohike could be the real narrator was a Carter-imposed addition to the script, to make it seem as if the events of the episode were not real. Carter even changed the name of the script, from “Memoirs of a Cigarette Smoking Man” to “Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man.”

[Wong]: ...“The line where Deep Throat says, ‘Maybe I’m not the liar’ was another change imposed on the script so you could make the leap that perhaps this is all. a dream, or the ramblings of Frohike.”

If that weren't potentially explosive enough, Morgan and Wong went behind Chris's back, consulting others on set to create their vision, anyway. When CC turned down Glen's dogged request, twice, to film an alternate ending, Wong took matters into his own, unauthorized hands:

Morgan and Wong felt so strongly about this issue, that they decided to try an end run around Ten Thirteen. They figured that if they filmed the scene their way, and cut it into the episode, it would be so powerful that Carter would have to agree with them. Morgan called Wong up in Vancouver and told him to take a few crew members while everyone else was at lunch, and get some shots of blood spattering on the sign to the Lone Gunman offices. Wong decided against the stealth approach; instead, he filmed William B. Davis pulling back on the trigger, and Tom Braidwood, as Frohike, getting a bullet in the head. Morgan nearly panicked when he heard what his partner had done; he was certain word of it would reach Ten Thirteen down in Los Angeles. His fears were justified.

Carter, meanwhile, allegedly proved how cleverly his fingers always remained on the pulse of the show:

Wong recalled: “I was in the editing room, and I said to the editor, why don’t we print up the B negative? We’ll cut it in and show Chris. [The “B” negative was the negative with the footage of the Cigarette Smoking Man pulling the trigger and Frohike getting shot.] And the editor told me, ‘You can’t do that.’ I said, ‘What do you mean, we can’t do that? Just print the B negative.’ He said, ‘Well, it’s been taken out of the lab. It can’t be found.” In a move worthy of a scene from an X-Files episode, someone had deliberately removed the negative without telling Morgan and Wong, and they had no idea where it was.

(And how do we know this was CC's doing? Because every single actor, writer, and director interviewed always marveled at his inhuman ability to be aware of every single, teeny tiny detail on set.)

Apparently, the incident blew over wordlessly, so much so that Chris asked Glen and James to help flesh out Millennium and called them up, years later, to craft the Revival with him (and sat nearby while Morgan teasingly alluded to the above incident, just a few years ago.)

To tie it all back to The Field Where I Died: the work they created-- while beautifully written-- was sloppily fitted into the show they were hired to write for:

And then there were the timeline inconsistencies, which Morgan and Wong didn’t even know about until the episode aired and Morgan logged on and was bombarded with dozens of internet posts complaining that the events of “Musings” couldn’t be for real, because they contradicted the teaser to “Apocrypha.” In the “Apocrypha” teaser, which is set in 1953, a young Cigarette Smoking Man (already smoking), a young Bill Mulder, and a third man, all in civilian dress, question a horribly burned submarine crewman who had encountered an alien in a flashback shown in the previous episode, “Piper Maru.” Morgan’s version proposed an entirely different history, with the young Cigarette Smoking Man and Bill Mulder, both Army officers, first meeting in 1961 at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. The Cigarette Smoking Man doesn’t even smoke, until he takes his first nervous puff late in the first act. Although Morgan and Wong had seen “Apocrypha,” they didn’t remember the events of the teaser. “Okay, we’re sloppy,” Morgan admitted.

To top off the battle of egos, Glen and James laid a portion of the blame at the nameless feet of some faceless "other" rather than taking it upon themselves... or having the guts to point the finger at one person in particular:

“But somebody should have told us. They all read the script. It was the same thing that happened to us on ‘Little Green Men when we showed Samantha’s abduction.'” Added Wong: “If somebody had said, ‘Hey, you know, in the third season, this was said and this doesn’t make sense anymore.’ And we would have changed it. But nobody told us that And the internet people go, ‘This doesn’t make sense,’ and now we look like idiots. We have part of the blame obviously; we didn’t know. We didn’t catch it.”

(It's easy to feel for them and their position... until you realize that there is no evidence-- that I have found-- of them asking if there was a show bible or other resource to consult. Meaning, again, that M and W have to take some blame for this grievance, as well.)

And last but not least, they-- particularly Glen Morgan-- martyred their pain instead of fully accepting and owning their own part in this ever-evolving disaster:

But their disappointment over the changes they were forced to make “Musings of Cigarette Smoking Man” caused them to withhold the ghost story and look for something else. “I had done a lot of research and I had always wanted to write a feature about Lincoln’s ghost,” Morgan said, “But I felt they didn’t want my heart and soul anymore, so I wouldn’t give this one to them."

CONCESSIONS

While these two scalawags contributed their fair share to frustrating and complicated behind-the-scenes shenanigans, their instincts weren't completely wrong, nor all their conduct unrighteous.

They were right on the money with Home--

“Thematically, Sheriff Taylor was doing the same thing that the brothers were doing. They didn’t want things to change,” Morgan said. Scully conducts an examination on the baby, and when the DNA tests come back, she is shocked to find results impossible to believe; they indicate the child had three fathers.

“It was much more controversial than we thought it would be,” Wong said. “Some fans were repulsed beyond analyzing the show; they were just kind of sickened by it. They were pretty turned off. Some people loved it. There was a lot of really, really negative reaction.”

“I have really been stung by that whole reaction,” Morgan admitted. “To me, the show must have become so big while we were away. I think a lot of people hadn’t been exposed to what we did when we were first on the show. They were going, '...what are they doing?’ and we go, ‘But, this is what we always did!’ We had “Squeeze,” or episodes like Chris’ ‘Irresistible,’ these shocking, horrible shows. Act four of ‘Tooms’ I think is on a level with ‘Home,’ so we were going, ‘What is all the ruckus about?’ We figured a lot of people don’t know that earlier stuff, or certain tones that we were going after then.”

-- and Never Again--

“He’s been caught off guard by not knowing something about her,” Morgan said. “A date with someone in Philadelphia, someone he’s never heard of, someone she’s never told him about. He’s unnerved by his lack of certainty about her, with her being wrong about Ed.” The episode ends with Scully telling Mulder firmly, “It’s my life,” and Mulder saying, “But it’s…” and suddenly stopping. Why didn’t he finish his sentence? “It was our way of saying to the other writers, ‘Here’s where Mulder and Scully are, and now the ball is in your court,'” explained Morgan. “That’s what I always felt was our role. In the first couple of years when we were on the show, we might hand it off and then have to pick up the ball ourselves a couple of episodes later, but knowing we were about to leave and would have no input whatsoever, we just said, ‘Well, here’s this thing, how about this? Now it’s yours.’ I feel that Mulder had come to respect that there’s more to this than just him, that Scully is now a part of his life and he’s a part of hers. I think that she learned the danger of exploring the rebellious side, and that it has to be accompanied by responsibility. What she did almost got her killed. So I think that she probably has it a little in check, and yet she’s always carrying the memory of it on her back. It isn’t anything for her to let go of. But next time she’ll be smarter about it, and she won’t let it get so far away from her.”

--and were misunderstood both times.

They were also wrongfully done by here or there--

Morgan had the unhappy task of telling an understandably upset Anderson that the scene she specifically requested had been cut.

Morgan and Wong were frustrated once more when the network decided to move “Never Again” out of its post-Super Bowl slot, and substitute “Leonard Betts,” the episode that was originally scheduled to air after “Never Again.” “Leonard Betts” ended with the wrenching realization by Scully that she might have contracted the cancer that afflicted the other female abduction victims she met in second season’s “Nisei.” This revelation impacted the rationale behind Scully’s behavior in “Never Again” in ways never intended by Morgan and Wong. “I felt horrible,” Morgan stated. “Those are not her motives for her actions in this episode. The motives in ‘Never Again’ are completely altered by posing that she has a disease or a death sentence...."

-- but did wrong themselves, despite unprecedented creative freedom (see the previous section.)

The trouble, it seems, is an inability to differentiate the criticisms they receive. The pearl-clutching, deaf-and-dumb moralizers over Home are not the same crowd scratching (nay, banging) their heads over the blatant and illogical inconsistencies in The Field Where I Died and Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man. (In fact, the last episode mentioned aged nicely, if the IMDb numbers haven't lied.) And that trouble compounds when they can't understand why a behemoth ship, constantly taking on mounting expectations and schedules, might halt for pit stops but won't change course for inconsistent passengers.

Lastly, while I can sympathize with the emotions both Glen Morgan and James Wong felt for having their work constantly tampered with, that sympathy dwindles when contemplating a few factors:

They were working for someone else's show, not their own.

They were given unlimited creative freedom upon their return, and were only reigned in after their projects continued to falter.

They were butting heads against two factors that the show runner himself wanted to keep ambiguous or under hat: CSM's backstory and Mulder and Scully's lives outside of work.

Having one's spirit crushed by back-to-back disappointments can't solely fall on the shoulders of the network or show runners when the first two ventures weren't touched, tampered, or changed (except for a run time you knew you had going in); and they can't fall solely on fans when the end results provided were lackluster in quality.

And an important last note: I do not feel that Glen Morgan or James Wong acted maliciously-- carelessly, mostly; overly self-involved here or there, most probably. Their focus remained on fleshing out the characters, exploring the ramifications of their actions, and digging up and handing over imperative context for canon-- attempting to iron out Mulder and Scully's split-up, William's adoption, and Charlie's estrangement in the Revival, for example. But they're not saints; and they still have an edge against criticism and interference that clings to and eats away at the quality of their work. In short, we are only glimpsing one aspect of Morgan's and Wong's lives during an intensely frustrating moment in their lives-- but it was important enough to The Field Where I Died's lore that I felt it was crucial to share.

CONCLUSION

For me, I'm glad Morgan and Wong messed up so badly that Gestapo CSM was still alive when canon CSM was born. To me, I think Morgan was way too eager (kindly, I shall reframe from saying 'self-involved') and way too disinclined to ask for necessary criticism for his projects. To me, I'm certain Morgan and Wong cared more about their concepts than the canon they were writing for-- making Mulder and Scully platonic (but could become romantic?) soulmates without providing essential explanation or further clarity. To me, I think focusing only on what Mulder gets out of this arrangement-- instead of exploring how this would affect Scully, as well-- was a cheap maneuver to vehicle in Morgan and his wife's love story (the same impulse that drove Morgan to write Melissa Scully as a romantic option for Mulder, that inspired the death of Frohike, and that butchered Maggie Scully's deathbed in Home Again: the impulse of wanting things his way.) For me, I'm glad this episode was too long, was chopped up very badly, and was ultimately exposed as a vanity project by fans' negative reactions. And, to me, I believe that negative reaction was largely brushed aside-- ignorantly, though not maliciously-- by Morgan because "fans just wanted Mulder and Scully together."

And, lastly: to me, Glen Morgan and James Wong-- while wrong to some extent-- at least take (partial) fault for their vision going awry. We're all human, we all make mistakes; we all learn and grow.

The rest I leave to you to draw your own conclusions.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

48 notes · View notes