#An hour worth of writing was put into this

[ysrjune]

hii there hope all is well i was curious if i could suggest a cute little fic or something of teen!dad scott’s first father’s day and/or mother’s day ? i love your teen!dad scott barringer it’s super cute

a/n: thank youuu ☺️ I love writing teen dad Scott. I'm so glad people are requesting him again!

For Father's Day, Scott's dad wanted to take a trip to Las Vegas with everyone. Your parents let you go since his parents would be the ones taking you (they just wanted you gone.. and you can imagine why.) Leo was now 1 year old. Mother's day had passed, so your first one was over, but now it was Scott's first Father's Day. It was just 2 days before Father's Day had actually come up. You all wanted to explore around the city before celebrating Scott and his father.

Waiting in the airport was fine. Leo didn't fuss much, but Scott did. He was hungry, and his back was hurting from sitting down. At least it was only an hour wait to board the plane. To pass time, he began to play with Leo. "Who's this?" Scott shows the mickey plushie to Leo. "Mick!!!" He claps with a smile. "Yeahh. Good job, weirdo." Scott smiles back.

The plane ride was also good. Leo didn't cry or make loud noises. He was calm and luckily, so was Scott. At the hotel, you and your family of 3 had your own room. It still had two beds, so you figured you could just leave the suitcases there or something since there was no use for it. "It's so hot here." Scott complains immediately. "I don't get why people actually live in Nevada. It's literally a desert." He groans and removes his shirt then quickly makes his way to turn on the AC. "You're so dramatic." You roll your eyes and set Leo on a bed.

"Aren't you hot, sport?" Scott lays on the bed with the baby and twirls his hair. The baby babbled nonsense, making Scott smile. "Me too but your mama thinks I'm crazy." He tsks and shakes his head. "One day you're gonna be just like me and walk around the house in your underwear to annoy her." He tickles Leo.

—

That night (to avoid the heat) you all went down to the strip to check what they had. Many restaurants and casinos. There were also girls who were practically half naked to take photos with. "Stop staring." You nudge Scott in the chest as they walk by. "I wasnt!" He whines. He definitely was.. but so were you if you were being honest with yourself.

The night was great. Walking around and then going to dinner then walking around again.. your feet and legs ached but it was worth it. Scott's parents wanted Leo that night because they just loved the cutie so much. So guess what that led to? Scott acting like the horny 17 year old he is. The only reason you agreed to have sex with him for the first time in a year was because he actually had condoms. Wouldn't want another baby..

—

Father's day finally came around, and Scott was actually excited. Another day out of the year that got to be about him! He showered before you did, so he was also ready before you. He watched you do your makeup and put on a pretty outfit after you got out. He was staring in awe. You're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. "Stretchmarks look good on you." Scott compliments. Before you had Leo, he used to think they were sort of freaky looking, but now that you have them because of Leo, he thinks they're cool.

Scott knew you were insecure about them. They were mostly faded by now, but they were still there. Often, Scott would kiss them and make you feel like they were nothing to be ashamed of. "Baby's first drawings, they say." He chuckles and kiss your lips. Leo coos from the bed and Scott goes to pick him up. "Look at you, getting cuter and cuter by the day." Scott kisses his sons face. He's never like this in public. This is a side of Scott that no one else but you and occasionally his parents got to see.

In the morning, the plan was breakfast and then hit up a few stores. Then it would be lunch and walk around again, then head back to the hotel to rest, and for dinner, well.. dinner at a new restaurant. Going to stores was your favorite part. Scott had been wanting new sun glasses, so you took him to a store that sold them. He tried on a bunch of different styles of them and you got a ton of goofy photos out of it. He ended up wanting red ones (which was odd since he doesn't like colored sunglasses) just because they had cherries and dice on the side of them. "They're so badass." He explained them as.

By the end of the day, everyone was so tired and just wanted to rest in their rooms. You, Scott, and Leo were in the bed, under the blankets, in your pj's, watching TV. Leo was between you two, playing with his toys. Scott was dozing off. So basically, you were the one watching TV. "Daddy!!" Leo giggles and crawls over to Scott. The blonde groans dramatically. "Uuughhhh. Yes Leo? What do you want now? A bottle, a hug? my soul?" He says with no bark behind it. Of course Leo didn't understand. He just stared into his dad's eyes with his mouth open.

"I love you, ugly." He traps Leo in his arms and kisses him. "Hey, don't call him that!" You look at Scott. "He is though." He really wasn't. Leo was the cutest baby ever. "Mm," You hum. "Well, I love you. Ugly." You smile at Scott and kiss him. He laughs and shakes his head. "I love you more, Beautiful."

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaasxo @anakinca @dollfilmz @alexlovesysrjune @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira @alealuvshayden @mvst4far

[sunday-bug]

Happy Accident epilogue

Pairing: Congressman Bucky x pregnant!girlfriend reader

These can be read as oneshots, but if you want to read in order, check out below ⬇️

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four | Part five | Epilogue

Word count: 1.6k

Content: fluff & sweetness, brief mention of the death of a parent, breastfeeding

Synopsis: Sam, Sarah, the boys, and your dad come celebrate Thanksgiving with you & Bucky and get to meet the baby.

This is the last part of my first completed little series. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I want to credit the idea for this epilogue to @foreverchangingmind - thank you for the inspiration <3

Fortunately, you’d planned to celebrate Thanksgiving on the Sunday following the actual holiday, so you had a few blissful days at home with just Bucky and your newborn. Your little bubble. You both decided to not even announce the birth and surprise everyone when they arrived. Bucky had been slaving away in the kitchen, letting you rest on the couch with the little one. 

Thankfully everyone was bringing a side dish, but Bucky was in charge of the turkey. The house smelled incredible - sage, pumpkin, just warm and cozy overall. Baby James was snoozing away on your chest, scrunched into a little ball of sweetness. 

Bucky walked in with a forkful of stuffing, “Open!” You gladly taste test his work. “It’s perfect, babe,” you assure him. He sits down next to you and kisses James’s head softly. 

“Hopefully he’ll wake up by the time everyone gets here,” he says, rubbing his little back. The baby makes a quiet noise and nuzzles further into your chest.

“If not, I’ll wake him up to see if he’s hungry. I want to make sure everyone gets to see him,” you say with a soft smile. “Thanks, baby, for cooking and just everything. This is perfect.” 

Bucky kisses your head and walks back to the kitchen, whistling an old tune. “You’re welcome. I like cookin’, anyway, doll.” You hear him shuffling around in the kitchen, the sound of water boiling, and the hiss of something going in a hot pan. “Do you need any water or anything, love? I know everyone else will be drinking wine,” he says with a shrug, walking back around the corner to you. You nod and smile again. “It’s okay. I don’t want to pump and dump. Not worth the hassle. I’m going to gorge on mashed potatoes. Those are better than any wine could be anyway, especially when you’re the one cooking them.” Bucky chuckles and the baby startles as the doorbell rings. You both look at each other. You’d managed to keep everything a secret - the birth, anyway - so all of your guests were expecting to see you with a big baby bump and not a tiny bundle in your arms. You were so thrilled.

“Here we go,” Bucky says with an excited grin. He walks to the front door as you stand up from the couch, cradling baby James in your arms. “Sam!” Bucky exclaims, opening his arms wide to give him a hug. “So glad you could make it. Welcome in,” he says, taking a bag out of Sam’s hands. Sam takes his shoes off and hangs his coat up before glancing up at you. He does a double take at the little figure in your arms. 

“Hold up! HOLD UP! Bucky!” He exclaims your name as well before realizing his volume may be a bit much for little ears. “You guys sure can keep a secret. Wow!” Bucky comes over and wraps his arm around your shoulders and beams down at your little one. “He decided to come a touch early, but he’s perfectly healthy and ready to chow down for Thanksgiving.” Sam walks over closer to you and the baby and looks down, smiling. “He’s so small. Wow. How are you feeling?” He directs the last question to you and you smile.

“I’m doing great. Taking everything hour by hour and taking it very slowly. I can’t imagine doing this without Buck.”

Sam puts a hand over your shoulder and squeezes gently. “Congrats you guys. Really. You did good.” He looks at Bucky as he says the last part. 

“You haven’t asked his name yet, buddy,” Bucky says with a soft smile. Sam looks between Bucky, you, and the baby with questioning eyes. “James Samuel Barnes,” you announce with a grin. Sam puts a hand over his heart and swallows. “Wow, I’m honored. Buck, man, that’s incredible. Thank you. And thank you,” he says pointedly at you. You smile and nod. “I know how much you and Bucky have been through together and that you’re basically family so we couldn’t have picked anything else. I’m glad you like it, too.”

The doorbell rings again and Sam answers it while Bucky runs back to check on everything in the kitchen. You lock eyes with your dad as he walks through the door. His eyes immediately spot the bundle you’re holding and tears well up in his eyes. He makes his way to you after a quick hello to Sam and hugs you awkwardly, trying not to squish little Jamie. “My baby with her baby,” your dad says, wiping a tear from his eye. “Look at that hair!”

“Sit down, Pop. You can hold him,” you offer, sitting down on the couch. Your dad looks at you with a worried expression. “Are you sure? He’s so tiny. I don’t want to-”. You cut him off before he can protest further. “Here,” you say, putting Jamie in his arms. “Your grandson wants to meet you.” The little baby’s eyes flutter open as your dad takes him and he coos softly. Your dad swallows again, trying not to cry. “You know, kiddo,” he says,  looking at you, “your mom would be so proud of you. She’s looking down on ya now. I just know it.” You feel a lump form in your own throat and swallow it down. “Thanks, Pop. I wish she was here with us this year.”

“Me, too, kiddo,” he says. “Gosh, you two-” he says as Bucky enters the room again, a dish towel thrown across his shoulder, “you two did good.”

“Sir,” Bucky says, “good to see you. I’m so glad you could make it. She was a trooper, your daughter. I’ve never met anyone quite like her.”

Your dad laughs, “That’s because there isn’t anyone quite like her. She’s the spitting image of her mother. Strong-willed, but soft and kind. That’s the best kind of woman if I do say so myself, but I may be a bit biased.” Your dad and Bucky chuckle and little Jamie cries out softly.

“He’s probably hungry,” you say. “I’m going to excuse myself for a bit to feed him. You guys catch up, okay? Pop, I know Sam was just in Delacroix fishing. I’m sure he has a lot to tell you.” You start walking to the nursery, soothing Jamie as he cries. You change his diaper before settling into the soft, comfortable rocking chair and letting him feed. The doorbell rings as you’re breastfeeding, and you let the boys handle it, just relaxing in the moment with your son, humming softly and closing your eyes.

A couple soft knocks rap on the nursery door before Bucky peers his head in. “Sarah and the boys are here,” he whispers, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him to give you privacy. “They want to see Jamie when you guys come out.” You smile softly. “Of course they can.”

Bucky looks down at where Jamie is connected to you and huffs out a small laugh. “I think the little man is falling asleep at the wheel.” You look down to see the baby’s eyes closing and his tiny hands open and relaxing by his sides. “He appears to have gotten his fill,” you announce, standing up with him slowly. You walk back out to see the table all set with everyone’s contributions to the beautiful Thanksgiving meal. Everyone is sitting down as Bucky walks you out. Sarah stands up and opens her arms. “Let me see that precious boy,” she says softly. You hug her and let her hold him. 

Bucky wraps his arm around you and squeezes, facing you both toward your small gathering  - Sam, Sarah holding Jamie, the boys, and your Pop. You feel another lump in your throat to see all of your favorite people under one roof. Your roof. Bucky clears his throat. “I just wanted to say Happy Thanksgiving and that I’m so glad we can all be here together. And surprise! Little Jamie just couldn’t wait any longer, but it makes today even more special. However,” he begins, glancing at your dad who gives him the slightest nod, “I think there’s one thing that could make it perfect.” You look around with a quizzical expression at everyone’s smiling faces before looking back to see Bucky kneeling in front of you with a shy, loving smile. Your breath catches as he starts to speak again, taking your left hand in his.

He whispers your name, “I know our journey hasn’t been the most traditional, but that seems to be par for the course for my life. You bring such immense joy and peace to me. I can’t imagine having anyone else by my side everyday. You make me laugh, feel loved and cherished, and I’m so incredibly lucky to have met you. And now we’re embarking on parenthood together with this precious kiddo. He’s perfect, just like his mom. Let’s do this… really do this.” He pulls a ring out of his front shirt pocket and presents it to you and you feel the tears start to roll. “I love you. Marry me. Be my wife. Be mine forever.”

“Yes, of course I’ll marry you, James. Of course!” You say through a thick throat and teary eyes. He slips the ring onto your finger and stands up, bringing you in for a hug and kissing your forehead gently. You whisper softly for only him, “I love you so much. Thank you.”

“Alright, enough! Let’s eat! It’s Thanksgiving!” Sam says with a huge grin. You both break apart and laugh. You weren’t sure how to fully express how you were feeling right now as you sat between your Pop and your Bucky. Sarah and Sam were across from you, with little Jamie napping happily in Sarah’s knowing arms. The boys were already chowing down on sweet potato pie. 

Bucky nudges you gently and your ring gleams in the light. “How are you feeling, love?”

You look around again, taking it all in, placing your hand over his, “Thankful.”

THE END.

[ghqstwriter]

Please do more M/M Villain x Hero writing! Maybe the villain saving the hero but manipulating them in the process?

cw: this one is a lil whumpy, mainly themes of captivity and isolation

Pain is a concept synonymous with the lifestyle of a superhero. About half of the agency's training modules consisted of talks and exercises around all the physical harm that this job would eventually put the new recruits through. Hero had not gone into this job clueless, they knew that deep down, this day would surely come. But, as the restraints around their arms dug deeper the more the hero writhed, they struggled to bite back a whimper.

For the first time in their career, they were scared.

Helpless. Completely at the mercy of whoever it was shuffling around outside their cell door. The first few hours were nothing, Hero had taken worse injuries from regular battles than they had from the initial interrogation. Unluckily, Supervillain seemed to recognise that too. So they left, with no promise of when they'd return. And in the harrowing silence, blood drying on their scalp, the terror had swept in. This was it, their view for the remainder of their miserable days.

The days began to blend together until Hero truly had no idea how long they'd been held captive. A blur of utter solitude and gloom. Supervillain rarely appeared too, dropping off the bare minimum for survival whenever Hero had passed out from exhaustion, just to make sure the isolation was complete. It was after an eternity of this routine that Hero finally realised they weren't here for information. They were here so that the final, agonising moments of their life would stretch on towards the horizon. One foot always in the grave.

The first sign of a change came when they heard a muffled voice from outside the dark confines of their chamber. People were talking, frantically, and soon the sound of rushed footsteps followed. The guards had somewhere else to be, that was unusual. Hero didn't question it, initially, too dazed to imagine where they could be headed. Somewhere nicer than this, that's all they knew. In fact, it took until they could hear someone speaking clearly – the first non distant voice in eons – before it registered in their dulled brain that a plan was afoot.

"You look even shittier than usual."

At the sound, blunt but lacking aggression, Hero strained to raise their lulling head, vision blurred by time. The figure before them was almost entirely obscured by the unforgiving shadows in the corners of their cell. If it wasn't for that all-too-familiar voice, Hero wouldn't have recognised their visitor, mostly due to their monochromatic outfit that hid their discerning features.

"Vil?" was all Hero could croak out, voice raspier than they had expected; the consequence of it only being used to sob into an abyss that never responded back. Understandably, Hero wasn't fully coherent, running at less than minimum capacity from exhaustion and sheer pain. It was a fact that was smothered all over their face, eyes unfocused. The man in front of them, almost undoubtably Villain, crossed the fathomless room in a few mere strides, and crouched down to where the pair were almost at eye level.

"To think your friends would just leave you to rot here, decomposing inside of yourself," Villain's tone shifted, soft and pitying. It would have felt patronising if not for the utterly horrific state of the hero, who was struggling to stay conscious throughout the encounter. As their head drifted to the side from weariness, the villain grabbed their chin firmly, ensuring that they had no choice but to make weak eye contact.

"Such a shame that, after all that pleading, they still decided you weren't worth saving."

Villain's words stung, hitting what felt like their already weathered heartstrings. Uncharacteristically, they felt an onslaught of tears ready themselves, a minefield about to erupt. If you go on this mission, we won't be able to save you. That's what Leader had said. Supervillain was perhaps the most fearsome adversary the team had met thus far. If they confronted them, desperate to save their friend, the odds of a total team annihilation were too high, according to them. The city needs its heroes. If we all drowned trying to save a dead man swimming, the people would have no one. Yet, Villain had come. They appeared almost unscathed, though Hero was far from the ideal state of mind for analytics.

"It's the one thing I've always despised most about that agency of yours. So-called martyrs who are far too concerned with saving their own skin, always leaving people to choke on their own blood. If an ally of mine was hanging on by a thread, I don't think I could possibly leave them to suffer alone," Villain soothed, their expression imperceptible. Scrutinising, almost. Were they implying what Hero (barely) thought they were? "It's ok though, it'll all be ok. You'll be out of this place soon enough, I promise. It's safe at my place, I can take you there if you'd like."

Hero grit their teeth. Every muscle in they body wanted to melt into the villain's soft touch, wanted them to soothe them asleep with comforting murmurs. However, they didn't need coherence to understand the villain. It was as though muscle memory had kicked in, like their body had adapted to their nemesis' presence. This is a trick, don't fall for it.

"Fuck you."

When Hero had cussed out Supervillain, doubling down and refusing to cave under any type of interrogation, the latter had lashed out. Yanked their face with a much less kind grip, and spewed every threat in the book. If they weren't so terrifyingly powerful, it would have seemed pathetic. Villain, however, grinned widely in response, no tidbit of agitation to be seen. They pulled away from Hero slightly, allowing them some space to breathe, and beamed as though their companion had just won an award.

"Glad to see you're still here with us, Hero." Villain's hands were still cupping the Hero's malnourished cheeks, though it felt much less infantilising. Just the usual amount of twisted affection for the criminal, Hero recognised, even half delirious. Was that some sort of test? A sick, sick way to see how far the hero had fallen? Something twisted in their stomach, something more than hunger.

"Stop playing around, asshole," Hero groaned, their voice raspy enough to cause their throat to ache with each slurred syllable. Villain laughed quietly at the term of far-from-endearment, eyes still gleaming slightly.

"You're awfully resilient, Hero. Never been one to back down for the sake of a kinder life. Even if it means.. this," Villain hesitated slightly at that last part, face darkening for a moment, though Hero was far too disjointed to pick up on it. "Pretending like you'd fall for flattery and buttery praise would be demeaning to both of us, so I'll skip the honey-drizzled sympathy:

Your team aren't coming. Those incompetents would never try and stand against Supervillain, they know they'd never stand a chance. Yet, I stand by what I said earlier. You're far too brilliant of a hero to be left to decay like a corpse. A waste of talent, so to say. I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen. And, since you just so happen to be my dearest enemy, I plan to do it join-me-and-get-vengeance-speech free. No need to belittle you when you're already, well.." Villain trailed off, not losing the cunning in their tone that always made them seem a million leagues ahead.

"But?" Hero questioned, still not able to mutter more than five words at a time. As much as they despised the villain usually, something intrinsic inside of them longed for some company. Isolation had clawed at their insides like a rapid animal, unaware of their own frenzy. Still, this was Villain. A criminal. Criminals don't break their enemies out of captivity without a cost. Villain's smile widened.

"But, Supervillain is still Supervillain. Everyone's petrified of even saying their name. Even if they don't kill me for this, odds are I'll be losing a lot of my resources over this. I'm really sticking my neck under the guillotine for you here."

"So why save me? You could– you could leave."

"You, my favourite little hero, are more valuable than any alliance I could dream of having. So, I'd prefer it if you stayed a little while longer under my care. No torture, no bindings. I'm told I'm a rather welcoming host. Besides, it isn't like you have any friends waiting eagerly for your arrival."

At that, Hero choked on a wail, feeling as though they were on the verge of bursting. Their eyes blurred with tears, vision obscured to the point that they couldn't see Villain's brow furrowing at their change in demeanour. Hero didn't cry. They didn't. They also didn't accept help from morally dubious criminals who were no doubt lying and scheming. Sure, Villain had sworn to a little sliver of sincerity, but through their almost-heartfelt grin, they could see the specks of silver that was their tongue.

It didn't matter that this was their only way out. It didn't matter that they spent what felt like centuries suffering as far away from the sunlight as they're certain they could be. Sure, Villain's touch was painkiller enough, easing the pain and reigniting their nervous system that had long forgotten what gentle touch was. But they couldn't just fold under this promise. They were Hero, for fuck's sake. But, they didn't feel like it anymore. A shell of themself, almost. A mewling, sobbing imitation of what had once been mighty and powerful. They didn't know how much longer they could last.

Hero didn't need to speak. Didn't need to beg or plead for Villain's help. Instead, they leaned in, nuzzling their head into the criminal's shoulder as their body quivered from both relief and sorrow. In return, Villain pulled them into a hug, shockingly mindful of their restraints, and softly petted their hair. The hero was so exhausted from it all that they truly couldn't differentiate between the villain's manipulation, and genuine comfort anymore. They welcomed it nonetheless.

Swiftly, Villain cut their restraints as though they were made of silk, and swept them up into a carry, more than aware that the hero's legs had begun to waste away. Before they headed for the cell exit, guards still seemingly unaware, Villain uttered one last reassurance.

"You made the right choice, Hero, so stick with me now. I can make this all better for you soon."

Skip the honey-drizzled sympathy my ass.

[sofreddie]

Not What You Wanted - Part 6

Summary: With Dean away on a hunt, Sam is eager to spend time alone with Y/N and explore their connection.

Characters: Sam Winchester/F!Fan!Reader, Dean Winchester (mentioned)

Warnings: Soulmate AU, Canon Divergent AU, Fluff, Smut (Unprotected Sex), Mentions of Birth Control, Mentioned Breeding Kink

WC: 3,133

Part 5

Sam was practically vibrating with giddiness. He had convinced Y/N to spend a day out with him. With Dean on a hunt and the two of them alone, he wanted to seize the chance to pursue the connection between them. Ever the gentleman, he had held the door for her as she climbed into the old truck, shutting the door behind her. He couldn’t help but smile over at her constantly. First, he had taken her to a thrift shop he and Dean frequented several towns over. 

After that, they went to a small bookshop Sam excitedly prattled about. It had all the books any bookshop would have and a separate basement area filled with antique and rare books for sale. He often frequented the quaint shop in his ongoing efforts to fill out the Bunker’s Library. 

“You can never have too many books,” Sam had smiled as he began wandering the store.

Y/N perused the store alone, finding some books she was interested in reading. She also picked up a sturdy journal and writing implements, figuring it would be good to start keeping a journal, if only for her sanity and processing. 

She had an idea when she saw a case of blank paper notebooks on clearance. She could write down everything she knew about them and their world. It could be a record for the Bunker or a reference for them if anything happened to her. 

She was surprised when Sam returned to the register with a stack of books in his arms. The books were incredibly varied: some tattered and worn, some dusty, some small, and some unusually large. His smile was that of a child in a toy store, sparkling over his findings.

“Ooh, what’d you get?” Sam asked, taking the items from her hands and nodding as he added them to the pile.

“Well, you can never have too many notebooks either, right?” she chuckled, and Sam readily agreed. 

Y/N helped him carry the reusable canvas bags with the store’s logo to the truck. It was quite a haul, though Sam had all but one bag of Y/N’s things—and that’s only because she protested that he could let her carry something. She couldn’t deny watching his arms and muscles strain and bulge as he took the bags of books, which made her insides flutter. He was always doing something to drive her desire to unfamiliar heights.

Though if she were being honest, it wasn’t all that was making her swoon. All day, Sam had been engaging her in conversation. Some about their lives, some about their interests, some just open conversation. They talked so much it felt like squeezing weeks' worth of getting to know someone into just a few hours. But it wasn’t unpleasant, not by any stretch of the imagination. It was comfortable and easy, the conversation flowing like water between them.

Sam had a way of just putting her at ease while simultaneously making her fangirl all giddy. But it was more than just the fangirl; she realized it was the soulmate connection Chuck instilled in her and the way she felt in his presence. Maybe Chuck had created the bond. But he wasn’t making them interact the way they were or controlling how they felt. And through the bond, she could almost feel what he felt, which fed her feelings in return. She assumed it must have been the same for him.

“Why don’t we grab takeout?” Sam offered as he pulled back into the Lebanon town limits. “We can go back to the Bunker, maybe watch a movie or something?”

Netflix and Chill, Y/N laughed in her head—not that she was opposed. She agreed and let Sam take the lead, more than willing to follow in whatever direction he saw this day going. She was hesitant, not having been with anyone in a while, and it was Sam. But mostly, she was eager and hopeful. He had been very clear about wanting this from the start, often mentioning being soulmates. So, she hoped the night went a certain way as well.

They opted for Chinese food, and Sam got a little of everything when Y/N couldn’t decide on one. He couldn’t either, and he knew leftovers were great for later. As she promised herself, she followed Sam’s lead, carrying several bags into the Bunker from the garage. However, Sam had taken the bulk of the bags just as before. He set everything on the Library table for later, grabbing the food and holding his hand out for Y/N to take.

She swallowed hard and smiled, taking his offered hand. It was so large, wrapping around hers entirely; his skin was warm but not damp; his grip secure but gentle. He tugged her alongside him, her steps falling quickly into stride with his. He let go of her hand once they reached his room so he could open the door. He walked in, setting the food on the end of the bed before kicking off his shoes and overshirt, grabbing his laptop, and turning back to climb on the bed.

Y/N was frozen in place by the door, mesmerized by watching, and she loved seeing him so relaxed. But she didn’t want to assume anything, either. He patted the space beside him, and she relented, kicking off her shoes and grabbing the food before sitting back against the headboard like he was. They agreed on a movie, and Sam set it up, laying the laptop on the bed and grabbing the food offered by Y/N.

It was more relaxed than she anticipated. She sat cross-legged, eating food and choking on bits as they laughed at the comedy playing. On the show, Sam rarely smiled, let alone laughed. Not like this, so carefree, his hair falling in his face, his grin stretched wide.

“You’re so beautiful,” she uttered, taking a second to realize she said it out loud.

Her eyes flashed wide before she returned to her food and the movie as if nothing had happened. Sam was momentarily struck, but he grinned lewdly and chuckled darkly at her comment.

“Not so bad yourself,” he uttered in the same tone and volume as she did. She glanced back at him only to see the grin and mischievous glint in his eyes.

She couldn’t resist the blush that overtook her. Sam let his eyes roam and soaked it in before deciding to back off his teasing. He chuckled again but went back to eating and watching the movie. She was grateful for the reprieve, her face feeling on fire.

After a while, they were done eating, and the food was moved off to the desk to be put away later. When Sam climbed back on the bed, he didn’t hesitate to sit closer to her, his arm coming down around her shoulders to tuck her into his side. He was so confident it knocked her back a little. But as she looked up at him and the bashful grin he gave her, she knew he was just as nervous as she was.

They both hesitated but turned their attention back to the movie. She relaxed more into Sam, resting her head against him. His arm tightened around her in response. She could hear his heart beating hard in his chest. It made her smirk. 

Even ground.

Tilting her head up, she was surprised to see Sam already looking at her. A shuddering breath passed his parted lips as he cupped her cheek with his large hand. His eyes seemed to question, but she took the cue.  Leaning in, she closed the gap, pressing her lips to his. The hand around her shoulders moved to her hair, the other gliding down her side, gripping at the curve. She moaned as he tilted her head slightly, giving him a better angle to deepen the kiss.

Y/N could feel a surge within her, his kiss igniting a very real heat deep within her. Her previous desire seemed amped to near-unbearable levels, making her feel desperate. It was a bit overwhelming and scary, if she were honest, never having felt anything like it. Placing a hand on his chest, she slowly pulled back from the kiss, catching her breath and gazing at him.

He looked just as wrecked as she was, panting as he kept looking between her eyes and her lips. He seemed to understand, swallowing hard and nodding, relaxing his body and his hold as he tried to calm his raging heart. Stealing another quick kiss, he leaned back against the headboard with a sigh, more than content with having just the kiss they’d shared. It felt pretty damn perfect to him.

Y/N was warring with herself internally. She wanted Sam badly but was chickening out. She supposed she wasn’t as ready as she thought or maybe just not courageous enough to follow through. She promised herself she'd do better next time.

-

Sam woke up to find her beside him that first morning, the two of them having passed out watching films and cuddling. He realized it was the start of something magical. He leaned over her, brushing back her hair and pressing feather-light kisses over her face and shoulders, gently waking her. When her eyes fluttered open and met his, he kissed her deeply.

“Mornin’,” he whispered, smiling down at her.

“So it wasn’t a dream?” she chuckled, shifting to sit back against the headboard, welcoming more kisses from Sam until she giggled from his attention.

Waking up beside her and kissing her, Sam wanted so much to take her then and there. He’d wanted her last night. But he made himself back off and calm down. He didn’t want to push or upset her, and he could sense how nervous she was about it. 

“Not a dream,” he promised, cupping her face and kissing her deeply once more. “Coffee?”

“Mmm, yes, please,” she smiled, taking his offered hand and shuffling beside him to the kitchen. She sat at the table, watching as he prepared their cups and brought them to the table.

“You ogling me?” Sam teased.

“Yup,” she confirmed without care, enjoying the coffee as it woke her up.

Sam laughed, grateful she seemed to let go and be with him. He was almost sad about Dean returning from his hunt, knowing he’d have to share her attention. He just hoped that he and Y/N could maintain their building momentum.

“So I was thinking we could grab breakfast to-go in town, then I wanted to drive you somewhere for the day if you’re up for it.”

“That sounds nice. Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Sam grinned, putting their cups in the sink.

“Can I shower first?”

“Of course,” he smiled, barely stopping himself from uttering his thoughts, instead dropping his gaze to the ground.

Y/N blushed, mustering her bravery for the following words: “Do you…want to…” She had difficulty saying what she meant, and her courage rapidly diminished under his beautiful gaze.

He stepped up to her, his hands reaching her sides as he looked down at her. He kissed her sweetly, took her hand, and walked her towards the bathroom. She bit her lip, her cheeks on fire, and she knew Sam was fully aware. He had a lighter tint of pink on his cheeks and ears but a more sure and hungry look in his eyes.

Once they reached the bathroom, Sam released her hand, turned on one of the showers, and tested the temperature before turning to face her again.

“You sure?”

She was nervous and scared, but she was sure. With a nod and a small smile, she began removing her clothes under his watchful gaze until she was completely bare before him. She looked down at herself, her hands shamefully covering the ugly scars that now adorned her torso.

Sam shook his head, moving her hands away and running his fingers over her scars. “You’re so beautiful, Baby.”

He kissed her swiftly before stepping back to remove his clothes, letting her take her fill of him. She swooned as his body was revealed to her; his cock, large and heavy between his legs, made her lick her lips. His body was covered in scars, too, which made sense but also surprised her. The show didn’t keep up with applying such things, and they were always just miraculously without scars. But he was real, and in front of her, his story was written in the many marks that littered his skin. It somehow added to his unique beauty and his strength.

“Come here?” He reached out a hand to her, pulled her under the spray with him, and let the warm water envelope them both.

Their bodies were pressed together, the water running over and between them, their arms wrapped around one another to be close. Her heart skipped a beat, her arousal ramping up to unfamiliar highs of desperation as she felt his hot and firm body pressed against hers. 

They took their time washing each other, exploring their bodies, the lines and curves, becoming intimately acquainted. He could tell how much she was enjoying him, but he wasn’t sure she understood how much he was enjoying her.

Leaning down, Sam kissed her, walking her back to press her against the tiled shower wall. She moaned, feeling herself pinned between Sam and the wall. It didn’t scare her, but instead thrilled her, seeing the hunger grow in his eyes, his breathing picking up. He was transforming before her from the sweet and gentle man to the sex God the whole fandom knew him to be.

One hand tangled in his hair, holding him to her as she kissed him back with frenzied passion; her other hand slid down his torso, finding his cock rigid and pinned between them. Feeling bold, her hand wrapped around his thick shaft, twisting up to the head and back down again. Sam growled into her mouth, his hips rutting into her grip.

“Want you,” he breathed against her lips as his hand found her core. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

She knew she was soaked, and it wasn’t from the shower. He’d had her turned on from the moment she woke to his eyes and kisses. Last night, she wanted him badly but was held back by her insecurities and issues. But now, all of those thoughts fled her mind. There was only Sam, pinning her against the wall and ready to fuck her better than she’d ever had before; she was sure of it.

“How do you want me?” she purred against his lips.

He responded with a snarl, turning her around and pressing her front against the wall, his cock rutting against her ass.

“Like this,” he responded, notching himself at her entrance. “Just like this,” he whispered in her ear, one hand cupping a breast, the other holding her hip in place as he slowly entered her from behind.

She gasped as he bottomed out, her body unable to take him any further. He was so tall, his entire body covered and surrounded hers. His cock, so long and thick, had her on her tiptoes, her hand flying to her stomach as she felt him deep within her, the other hand supporting her against the wall.

“Sam,” she whined, trying to move her hips and gasping harshly at the feel of him spearing her open.

She couldn’t move without feeling him completely, which set her nerves on fire; every touch intensified and electrified her as they connected on a deeper, more intimate level.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Sam moaned, his hands gripping her tightly. He pulled back and slammed back home, “Oh God, oh fuck,” he panted.

He wasn’t prepared for the feel of her, beyond something he could even imagine. He panted against the back of her neck, pulling out and thrusting in once more, grunting and biting down on the back of her neck in an attempt to control himself. He feared it would all be over far too soon for his liking.

His hand left her breast and pressed against the wall, the other wrapped around her stomach to hold her tight as he began fucking her smooth and steady. She panted and moaned, bending her back to arch her ass into him, surprising both of them as he slid even deeper. Her sounds echoed off the walls around them, and Sam found his pace increasing as her response to him drove him mad.

He could feel her getting close, her walls tightening, her breaths increasing. His hand slid down her stomach, finding her clit and rubbing tight little circles as he drove them both towards their finish. She came first, screaming his name, her knees nearly giving out. Sam remembered at the last moment that he wasn’t wearing a condom and didn’t know if Y/N was on birth control. He forced himself to pull out, stroking himself to completion, his cum landing on her backside. The thought of filling her with his cum and his child made him shiver from arousal. His mouth buried against her throat, and he sucked a mark, savoring the whimpers that were punched from her.

Once he caught his breath, he gently turned her around and pressed her into the wall to keep her on her feet as he kissed her with all he had.

“You okay?” he asked, worried he might have hurt her. She smiled and laughed, nodding.

“Yeah, just my legs are a little weak,” she chuckled.

“I’m sorry,” Sam mumbled. “I almost didn’t pull out,” he chuckled nervously.

“Oh,” Y/N blushed. “Yeah, I didn’t think about it. I’m not on anything, so we should probably get condoms.”

Sam grinned, “So you do plan on doing this again?”

“As much as possible,” she giggled. 

Sam understood entirely, but that didn’t stop his disappointment from what he assumed was a sudden and previously unknown breeding kink. He perked up, knowing she wanted to be with him again. Kissing her, he quickly cleaned them up and turned off the water. Drying them off, he gathered her in his arms and carried her through the halls back to his bedroom. He set her on the bed, rushing to her room and returning with a change of clothes. She smiled gratefully at him, getting dressed as he pulled on his clothes.

“Ready to go out?” he grinned at her. “I can carry you to the car.”

“I can walk, you know,” she laughed, getting to her feet and walking towards the garage.

“Hmm, guess I gotta try harder next time,” he muttered, catching up to her with a smile and ready for another day, just the two of them.

FOREVERS:

@lyarr24

@hobby27

@kazsrm67

@maliburenee

@440mxs-wife

@writercole

@spnbaby-67

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@leigh70

@laycblack

@kr804573

@nancymcl

DEAN WINCHESTER:

@slamminmine

@deandreamernp

@awkward-and-indecisive

@akshi8278

@mimaria420

SAM WINCHESTER:

@b3autyfuldisast3r

NOT WHAT YOU WANTED:

@cassiecourtemanche

@myceliumsunshine

@piptoost

@deans-yn

@kr804573

@stariou 

@ladykitana90 

@kentuckyhobbit 

@lunaleah 

@deansimpalababy 

@h0ng1s00lo832

@cnme2003

@evilunicorns4minions 

@colours-of-thewind  

@qharper-london

@stoneyggirl2

@applelovesposts 

[youhavethewrong]

Yuiview: A Eulogy for Tribe Nine

On March 25th, I posted a review for the game Tribe Nine, a gacha Action RPG created by Too Kyo Games. In it, I mostly focused on the fact that as good as it was, I was nervous about its future. I ended my review with this statement:

Fast forward to May, 76 hours into Tribe Nine later, I started writing "Tribe Nine - Why Some Gachas Are Worth Your Time". I was gonna use the same title as a neat little callback and to cheekily acknowledge the fact that the game was so good it had proven me wrong.

But last night, the official Tribe Nine twitter account posted this

So now, what was meant to be a heartily recommendation of a fantastic game, has become a eulogy. I'd like to reflect on why Tribe Nine didn't succeed, why it hurts me so, and what we can do going forward.

On the original version of this Yuiview, I was gonna make a lengthy list of all the things Tribe Nine did well. How it allowed you to play the game completely for free, how its fast-paced reaction-based gameplay let you beat it with the free units, how in unlike other games the story was leading towards a specific conclusion. Now, looking back, I realize that all these things that made Tribe Nine great as a game, are what made it bad as a gacha.

Each character is unique, all of them bringing a different approach to the action RPG gameplay - meaning there's only 16 playable characters, and not the hundreds that gachas usually have, disincentivizing constant rolling.

The game is very kind in giving you free currency and rolls for just playing the game - so players aren't forced to spend money on it.

The default characters that you get for free, rather than being stuck at being clunky and weak (like a lot of other gachas do), are fast and reactive, meaning that being good at the game lets you play without performing a single gacha roll - ...yeah, you can see where I'm going with this.

Every aspect that made Tribe Nine a good, non-predatory game made it a bad gacha game. Gacha games depend on forcing players to continue spending money by way of halting their progress, putting up difficulty walls, and overall mechanics that go against players having a smooth experience. Therefore, a game that's more focused on fun and quality of player experience can't survive as a gacha, as it goes against the idea of constantly squeezing people for money.

So why is it even a gacha?

Well, the thing about gacha games is that if they're profitable, they give the company that developed them a loooot of money. After all, why develop a game that people pay for once and get a full experience out of, when for the same development time you can make something people sink hundreds of dollars into, and will continue spending money on indefinitely as long as you keep jangling keys in front of them?

I'm not here to make fun of the people in the above screenshot. If anything, I think they're victims. But think about it from a developer's perspective: these sort of numbers make publishers salivate. A gacha game that does well can take a company out of the red.

Right, I should mention that. Too Kyo Games is in the red.

I've tried to leave that out of my other reviews of their games because I don't want people to play these games out of a sense of pity. I want them to play them because the people at Too Kyo are brilliant creators who have delivered nothing but unique, meaningful experiences since their first game. But it is undeniably a looming dark cloud that has been hovering over the whole topic for a long time. And you can see why a company in this situation would be tempted to make one of their biggest projects a gacha game.

And in spite of the fact that i despise gacha games, I still decided to give Tribe Nine a try, based on the fact that Too Kyo haven't disappointed me yet, and I've known them to prioritize player experience over money making for a long time now. So I trusted them.

And I was right. They did. And that was Tribe Nine's downfall, that it wasn't scummy.

So now that we understand what happened and why, one question remains: What's in the future for Tribe Nine? As of now, its development stopped cold turkey, including the cancellation of already-announced characters, story chapters, and even game fixes. The way the game is right now will remain as its current state until November 2025, when it finally becomes unplayable. This means that the next chapters won't release, the story will not conclude, and we won't be able to meet these characters again. The tragedy of it all is... difficult to put into words.

As much as this breaks my heart though, the one who seems to be taking it the most harshly is the man himself, writer Kazutaka Kodaka. Today, he posted this to his bluesky account:

TL: "It's annoying that this is being spread so much, but even though I wasn't involved in the development, it's frustrating to see everyone's sadness! If I was a super popular person, I could have done more. Thinking about it, I guess it's because of my lack of ability. And even after it ended, I could have done more if I had the financial means. I guess you can't do anything without making money. That being said, there are definitely things that can be done. I make games to entertain everyone. I'll keep trying and not give up. Also, please forgive me for advertising other games in this situation. You need funds to try."

Sadly, he seems to be blaming himself and his lack of popularity/money for being unable to rescue the game. As someone not in the industry, it's hard to imagine what it feels like to put time and resources into coming up with an idea and developing a story, only to see it be dashed when it's not even halfway done.

However, to me it also seems that there's a tinge of hope in his words. The line "There are definitely things that can be done" sounds like there are some resources at his disposal to continue telling the story. Me personally, I'd be happy with a light novel. I just want to know what happens to these characters. Also, I really appreciate and admire the fact that he refuses to give up, in spite of the company's current financial situation and the failure of this project.

I would also like to bring up this post from May 3rd, regarding Too Kyo Games's financial situation

At the end of the day, his main goal is still for people to enjoy playing his games, and that's something that I'll never stop finding commendable. Even in dire financial straits, his sole focus is people having fun with his art, without worrying about the company itself.

You can probably tell that I really admire him as a creator, which is why it breaks my heart to see him not have the recognition and success that him and his team deserve. But he wouldn't want me to be worrying about that, just about the quality of his games. So that's what I'll do. I'll keep playing Tribe Nine to see if I can finish it 100% before it goes out of service. And instead of focusing on its inevitable demise, I'll focus on enjoying the characters, tight gameplay, and silly dialogue until the last possible moment.

I'm sure most everyone who works in a creative field is doing so because they enjoy it, and they love making things. But I'd encourage everyone to remember Kodaka's words: "You need funds to try". If it is within your means, try supporting your favorite artists financially, so that they can keep making things you love. And if it's not, just talking about their projects with your friends or leaving positive comments that remind them people enjoy what they make can make a huge difference. Don't take the art you enjoy for granted, it takes someone an incredible amount of effort to deliver it to you.

[felix-lupin]

In Coraline, there’s a recurring theme with names and identity, and I personally don't think it's talked about enough. 

(As a note, this is dealing largely with the book, not the movie, although there are some hints of this theme in the movie as well)

Coraline’s neighbors constantly get her name wrong, calling her “Caroline” and not “Coraline”, to which she persistently corrects them. Despite her attempts, they never get it right, until chapter 10, in which Mr Bobo (Mr Bobinsky) finally gets it right.

"It's Coraline, Mister Bobo," said Coraline. "Not Caroline. Coraline." "Coraline," said Mr Bobo, repeating her name to himself with wonderment and respect. "Very good, Coraline."

It should be noted that, until this chapter, Coraline did not know Mr Bobo’s name either. In fact, it had never even occurred to her that he had a name. Up until then, she had just been thinking of him as “the crazy old man upstairs”, not as a person with a name. This moment, with her learning his name and him getting her name right, is a moment of genuine understanding and connection between the two, humanizing them both to each other.

Coraline’s other neighbors get her name wrong, which is representative of them not listening when she says anything, really, such as her telling Miss Spink and Forcible that her parents are missing and them literally not even acknowledging it at all??

"How are your dear mother and father?" asked Miss Spink. "Missing," said Coraline. "I haven't seen either of them since yesterday. I'm on my own. I think I've probably become a single child family." "Tell your mother that we found the Glasgow Empire press clippings we were telling her about. She seemed very interested when Miriam mentioned them to her." "She's vanished under mysterious circumstances," said Coraline, "and I believe my father has as well." "I'm afraid we'll be out all day tomorrow, Caroline lovely," said Miss Forcible. "We'll be staying with April's niece in Royal Tunbridge Wells."

Mr Bobo gets her name right after being corrected (only after being corrected alongside her using his name, mind you, showcasing her making an effort to listen to and understand him as well), which is representative of him actually making an attempt to listen and understand her. This point is further illustrated by a conversation Coraline had with the Other Mr Bobo in chapter 10.

As Coraline entered he began to talk. "Nothing's changed, little girl," he said, his voice sounding like the noise dry leaves make as they rustle across a pavement. "And what if you do everything you swore you would? What then? Nothing's changed. You'll go home. You'll be bored. You'll be ignored. No one will listen to you, not really listen to you. You're too clever and too quiet for them to understand. They don't even get your name right."

He equates those in the real world not getting Coraline’s name right with them not listening to her, and fundamentally not understanding who she is. So, somebody getting her name right, then, shows them actually listening to her, and being willing to understand who she is.

The mice in the real world know more than they should be able to know, and they also get Coraline’s name right.

"The message is this. Don't go through the door." He paused. "Does that mean anything to you?" "No," said Coraline. The old man shrugged. "They are funny, the mice. They get things wrong. They got your name wrong, you know. They kept saying Coraline. Not Caroline. Not Caroline at all."

They seem to know about the other world, somehow, on some level, and the dangers it presents. Them getting her name right represents them knowing more than they should know, more than they are told. Animals in general seem to have this type of quality in Coraline, actually.

The cat does not have a name. It says so in chapter 4, that cats do not need names. It says that this is because cats know who they are. But humans need names, because they do not.

"Please. What's your name?" Coraline asked the cat. "Look, I'm Coraline. OK?" The cat yawned softly, carefully, revealing a mouth and tongue of astounding pinkness. "Cats don't have names," it said. "No?" said Coraline. "No," said the cat. "Now, you people have names. That's because you don't know who you are. We know who we are, so we don't need names."

The cat shook its head. "No," it said. "I'm not the other anything. I'm me." It tipped its head on one side; green eyes glinted. "You people are spread all over the place. Cats, on the other hand, keep ourselves together. If you see what I mean."

This shows that, in humans, names are connected to our identities and who we are. Names are used to individualize and distinguish ourselves from each other. But cats do not need names to recognize each other, or be recognized.

"Oh. It's you," she said to the black cat. "See?" said the cat. "It wasn't so hard recognising me, was it? Even without names."

With or without names, it is still the same cat.

During the Other Miss Spink and Forcible’s performance, in chapter 4, they begin quoting Shakespeare. The specific quotes that they use are interesting to me when looked at under this lens of the importance of names, especially Miss Forcible’s.

"What's in a name?" asked Miss Forcible. "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

"I know not how to tell thee who I am," said Miss Spink to Miss Forcible.

Now, of course, this is just them quoting Shakespeare. But. Why these quotes specifically? They’re at the very least notable when discussing Coraline’s recurring theme of names. Especially the quote about the rose. It makes me think of what the cat said earlier, about how cats are sure of who they are so they don’t need names, about how Coraline didn’t need the cat’s name to be able to recognize it for who/what it was.

But, of course, this does not apply for humans. We need our names to be able to know ourselves, to be able to tell others who they are.

In chapter 6, Coraline wakes up and is disoriented. This disorientation is compared to the feeling one might experience upon being suddenly pulled out of a daydream. In this comparison, forgetting one’s name is equated with forgetting who one is and where one is.

Sometimes Coraline would forget who she was while she was daydreaming that she was exploring the Arctic, or the Amazon rainforest, or darkest Africa, and it was not until someone tapped her on the shoulder or said her name that Coraline would come back from a million miles away with a start, and all in the fraction of a second have to remember who she was, and what her name was, and that she was even there at all. Now there was the sun on her face, and she was Coraline Jones. Yes.

The ghost children have also forgotten their names, and with it most of who they were. In chapter 7, when Coraline is locked behind the mirror in the Other World, one of the ghost children says that names are the first things that one forgets after death.

"Who are you?" whispered Coraline. "Names, names, names," said another voice, all faraway and lost. "The names are the first thing to go, after the breath has gone, and the beating of the heart. We keep our memories longer than our names. I still keep pictures in my mind of my governess on some May morning, carrying my hoop and stick, and the morning sun behind her, and all the tulips bobbing in the breeze. But I have forgotten the name of my governess, and of the tulips too." "I don't think tulips have names," said Coraline. "They're just tulips." "Perhaps," said the voice sadly. "But I have always thought that these tulips must have had names. They were red, and orange-and-red, and red-and-orange-and-yellow, like the embers in the nursery fire of a winter's evening. I remember them."

The ghost children may have their memories, but they have largely forgotten who they were. They may remember their tulips, and certain strong memories, but there is very, very little left of them, and they have forgotten who they once were, they have forgotten their names.

"That is why we could not leave here, when we died. She kept us, and she fed on us, until now we're nothing left of ourselves, only snakeskins and spider-husks. Find our secret hearts, young mistress."

"She will take your life and all you are and all you care'st for, and she will leave you with nothing but mist and fog. She'll take your joy. And one day you'll awake and your heart and soul will have gone. A husk you'll be, a wisp you'll be, and a thing no more than a dream on waking, or a memory of something forgotten."

The Other Mother stole their hearts and their souls and their selves. She stole who they were away from them, their identities and names and the names of those they loved, leaving nothing in her wake.

The same ghost that talked about the tulips and the names of the tulips struggles to answer when Coraline asks their gender, as well, and when they do eventually give an answer they seem somewhat unsure of it, as shown by the word choice of “perhaps” and “I believe”

"A boy, perhaps, then," continued the one whose hand she was holding. "I believe I was once a boy." And it glowed a little more brightly in the darkness of the room behind the mirror.

(I personally take this quote, specifically it "glow[ing] a little more brightly" after coming to this conclusion, to mean either that the ghost is happy at realizing that he was once a boy, or even to mean that he has become somewhat more tangible upon this realization; upon remembering something about his self, and his identity.)

As an aside, it's noteworthy to me that we never learn the Other Mother’s true name. She is simply “The Other Mother” and “The Beldam.” Never is an actual name applied to her, only titles. We do not truly know who, or what, she is. Beings without names are shrouded in mystery (or should i say mist-ery). The ghost children are benevolent mysterious beings, the cat is an ambivalent-leaning-helpful mysterious being, and the other mother is a distinctly malevolent mysterious being.

"Who are you?" asked Coraline. "I'm your other mother," said the woman.

"She?" "The one who says she's your other mother," said the cat. "What is she?" asked Coraline. The cat did not answer, just padded through the pale mist beside Coraline.

But in conclusion, names in Coraline are extremely important. I’m sure there’s probably more that I'm missing, and feel free to add onto this, but basically—

People need names to know and remember who they are, and forgetting one’s name is the first step to losing the rest of who one is. Names humanize a person; with a name, they are less shrouded in mystery, more clear.

Knowing somebody's name helps one connect to and better understand that person; it is the first step in getting to know them and see them as a full person, the transition from “the crazy man upstairs” to “Mr Bobo”. Names, to people at least, are one of the fundamental building blocks of who we are.

[hayffiebird]

you just post about haydove now, are u gonna flip the fandoms?

I don’t just post about haydove now. I suppose you’re talking about my hayffie fic Taste of Strawberries since it’s very obvious my 10+ years Tumblr blog contain both hayffie, everlark, haydove and a whole lot of Hunger Games related stuff like the prep team, Plutarch and Caesar Flickerman.

But as far as Taste of Strawberries is concerned: if you’ve read the whole fic you’ll notice that I’ve always written lots of Haymitch’s (and Effie’s) backstories through flashbacks, to enrich the present timeline and keep the characters IC.

When major shifts in hayffie’s relationship happens or when their view on things changes, I have to back it up and flesh it out properly to make it believable or else it’ll create a whiplashy 180 degree turn out of nowhere and those are just the WORST! My ultimate pet peeve.

I’m a die hard hayffie fan, always have always will be, but I have a great deal of respect for haydove as well. Haymitch loved her hard and she shaped the man that he became.

His relationship with Lenore Dove and his guilt over her death and the death of his family, deeply affects his relationship with Effie and their kids. Colors his whole life really.

It’s what birthed his alcoholism which is now slowly destroying everything he has in the present timeline. That’s why I have to include the haydove flashback in ToS. The story would feel rushed and unbalanced without it.

[otome-dissection]

Genuinely like what is wrong with him

[camgoloud]

every single goddamn time i spend a whole three hour evening writing session beating my head against the wall over the ten sentences on which a whole scene hinges and which i Just Can’t Get Right only to end up eventually throwing my hands up in frustration and shutting off my computer and going into the bathroom to get ready for bed. WITHOUT FAIL. every time i’ll be standing there at the sink toothbrush in mouth and suddenly the perfect solution will pop into my head. like. okay

[perplexingluciddreams]

Know you’ve mentioned reading fanfic , have you tried writing your own (even if word language hard , doesn’t need be perfect) if not maybe try writing short things characters you like

if get frustrate remember takes practice , cannot expect yourself write perfect novel suddenly

It is a nice suggestion, but I don’t think I am able.

Main reasons: how much I struggle with words/language. Lack of understanding of other people and not able to write from a character’s perspective. Lack of imagination, not able to create a story of my own.

I write about my own experiences because I want to be understood (and even more, don’t want to be misunderstood. I had enough of that in my life). With more complex topics (like what I might post on tumblr), it takes months or years to collect together and organise my thoughts enough to attempt to get it out. Then, the process to actually putting into words is a very slow one.

I start with mostly “borrowed words”, from other people/places. Then I add in whatever words I have from my own head. And use my sentence blueprints and try to build it up into something that makes actual sense. And tweak and edit to get it closer to what I want it to mean. Then comes the long long process of re-reading over and over, trying to understand what I already wrote (which often I can’t, so I have to go back to the “first draft” and start over again with simpler sentences. If I can’t comprehend it, then I can’t know if it say what I mean).

All of that^ is exhausting and frustrating and difficult, and takes a LONG time and a LOT of work. I am glad to put in the effort, if it means I am better understood. (And I am grateful for how much I can express now, that I never could before). But I wouldn’t be interested to put in that much effort to write about something not real, I think.

And then add in the fact that I don’t understand other people enough to write from a character’s perspective. And don’t have enough imagination to come up with a make-sense linear story. I do have some imagination, but it is very abstract and disjointed and not making much sense, even to me. Nothing in the imagination is stuff I can put into words, at all. (Plus I am not even sure that what I call “my imagination” is actually real imagination… I can’t know what the word really means because it is internal experience).

It is a cool idea, so thank you for sharing it with me. But I think it is unlikely to happen any time soon.

[tardis--dreams]

Me panicking because i have 9 missed calls and 5 emails talking about my absence and how "a colleague could take over for me" vs. Me knowing it's really not that important no matter how pushy a client is and that on top of it I'm underpaid and have way to much overtime so i shouldn't even care

[kiwibirdlafayette]

IM FREE I FINSIHED MY LORE VIDEO

[anti-dazai-blog]

i absolutely ADORE this blog. ive seen it in passing but am just now taking the time to read through it and oh. my. gosh.

ITS AMAZINGGGGGVFGG !!!!

i myself like dazai, love him, even. but this blog nitpicking just how much of an asshole he really is just, genuinely makes my day

cus, while yes i do really really like dazai as a character, he’s a HUGE asshole and it’s so nice to finally see someone taking the time to go through and explain each incident IN DETAIL.

you are absolutely AMAZING for creating this blog. all of your posts are so well written and easy to follow along (and this coming from a not-so-smart person :P), it’s obvious that you think through each and every one of your analysts and it’s just- oh my freaking gosh.

words really cannot explain how grateful i am that this blog exists just- thank u so much for being an awesome person !! :))

(sorry for the rant- im just fanboying over your blog)

Thank you so much for enjoying this blog!! I really appreciate that you took the time to read through most of my posts—I know there are a lot at the moment and they’re usually pretty long, so I don’t really expect anyone to make their way through that many of them.

I think people usually only read the ones that cover scenes they’re personally interested in (which is perfectly reasonable and I would do the same), so it really means a lot to me when someone goes through more posts than just the ones talking about specific characters.

Thanks again for enjoying this blog, and thanks for taking the time to send this ask!! It genuinely means so much to me when people send asks like this (I’m not great at expressing in words how much receiving asks like this affects me, but when I read this last night I did get a little emotional over it)

[mirrortouchedsea]

tried to outline something the other day and it went so bad it put me in a writing slump. so that's great

[lookninjas]

Time stopped at 8:31 pm on a Wednesday in early July, which was inconvenient to say the least, because the store was supposed to close at 9:00 pm and I wanted to go home.

[I have no idea if I'm going to go any further with this concept or not, but I wanted to put it out there and give myself the option of it, you know?]

[ajdrawshq]

Is there any non-spoilery way you could talk about how isat isn't just about timeloops? because like I do want to check the game out eventually for sure if only because indie fun times but I'm busy for a while before I get the time and tbh I'm just not as curious because I don't know how it's gonna break that formula (also ngl no colors makes me lose 50% interest because I like. looking at colors. lots.)

UHM OK WELL UM. hm. how DO i do this without spoiling anything. im very not good at describing things especially things i Really enjoy so how do i put this . hold on i might need to look at some reviews so i know how to words. ok

as a disclaimer i havent fully interacted with a lot of (if any??) media that has timeloops so i cant say for certain what it does differently from similar media that makes it stand out from others. at the same time ive never seen something that is so directly About Timeloops in this way even if i consider stuff ive heard about in passing but i could be wrong (madoka n utena come to mind ?). ill try to think abt the things that arent Just timeloop related plus the stuff u mentioned and hope that helps it feel more interesting and less generic?

i think one of the main things i can say is that it Really makes you feel what the protagonist is feeling. more than anything ive ever watched or played or whatever . and thats saying a LOT given how much i empathize with protags in games. and its not even just an empathy thing here. both the story progression and the gameplay work in such a way that you experience pretty much everything the same way they do, while still having their own personal stuff u can learn about of course

on that note tho. that is actually something to be careful of for a few reasons. i know ur generally pretty good with darker content so i doubt thatll be a problem for u here (its not that bad tbh but there is IS a warning when u open the game/look at the steam page and it aint lying) but. due to the nature of timeloops. it CAN get tiring and this is very much intended. and this helps a lot w the story and themes in a way that its. like. think how kh days does repetition on purpose. its a lot like that (although i had way easier of a time getting thru isat than days? i cant remember how u feel abt days' gameplay but i think it was positive ? either way getting thru isat was way more bearable than days imo). it does do a good job at balancing this with a couple mechanics that mean u dont have to repeat everything all the time (i had like. Very few actual full loops by the time i finished) and theres ALWAYS new things happening, even if ur super thorough with everything. its pretty easy to do things at whatever pace u feel like and if u wanna focus on the main story only to make it easier it wouldnt take too much away from the experience (tho i do encourage talking to the npcs at least a few times), and theres always a goal to work towards. also dialogue skipping and the banana peel are ur best friends

sort of adding onto that. it really, really helps that u are sharing the experience with the protagonist. not only does that help u relate to them (even if u dont share as many traits w them as i do akvdjsn) but theyre probably the most beloved character in the game and for good reason!! its really fun to see their interactions with the rest of the main cast and the npcs, and watch them all develop in different ways throughout the game. and my goodness all of the characters are beautifully written - at first ur kinda thinking ok its a ragtag group of sillies in an rpg whats new. but their personalities and relationships and hobbies and problems and everything about them is just so well done.. they feel so natural. human even. every conversation feels real to me. one of the main themes of the game is the concept of change, and each of them represent and approach it differently, both positively and negatively. its hard not to fall in love with them as individuals and as a group because they just have so much going on, even the ones i didnt expect to like at all!!

the worldbuilding is also a fun spin on fantasy rpg worlds. it mostly revolves around the area u play in bc well. of course it does. but its vv interesting to learn about all the different cultures within the world and how they interact with and build on the themes of the game. theres all sorts of queer stuff going on and its all handled like a love letter to people who relate, and i can feel it even with what i dont relate to at all!! the way "magic" works and the ways people use it in battle and everyday life is super cool too, makes the whole thing feel a lot more believable and realistic :3 i dont wanna talk abt any specifics bc its more fun to learn abt this stuff ingame

OH AND THE TEXT.. EFFECTS?.. idk what to call that but the way dialogue (both internal and external) is written and programmed is funky as hell (affectionate). it was weird at first bc oftentimes (mostly for humor) its like. almost the way i type actually?? which feels strange in a legit game but it Works. it works so well and adds tone and vibes and a Voice in a way u usually cant get in a game without any voice acting. deltarune is also good at that but this one does it differently enough for me to consider it unique

HAVE I MENTIONED THE ART STYLE i love the art style . its so charming and expressive especially all the talking sprites n battle portraits. simultaneously silly n adorable while fully capable of being serious. and creepy. anyway look at the sillies i love them n their designs dearly (especially Siffrin (1st on the left) and Mirabelle (2nd on the left))

also on that note, the lack of colors....... i both totally understand being put off by that (i also love looking at colors n this part made me feel weird abt it when i was thinking abt getting it at first) and personally enjoy it? without saying anything spoilery (bc its really not), its just another part of the worldbuilding and themes that i now find really fun :3 should be noted that i usually have an anti blue light filter so it mightve been easier to look at w the yellowish tint going on. maybe it even looks better that way ? kinda reminded me of old films now that i think abt it.. neat!!

as a last thing i couldnt quite insert somewhere else. it is equal parts a comedy and a tragedy, and it is so, so effective at accomplishing this. the humor is fantastic and adds to the games' and characters' personality, every tragic moment is . for lack of a better word or phrase. absolutely fucking delicious. and i adore how well it can shift from one to the other gradually or in an instant, or just be both at once!!!! yippee!!!!!!!

aaand thats all i can say. i have no idea if that cleared anything up BUT i encourage u to give it a try bc i do think youd like it in the end. u probably wouldnt finish it as fast as i did but that might be a good thing jfbskndj but yeah!!!! in stars and time!!!!!! its good and i love it!!!!!!!!