#Who the fuck does he think he is? It’s so poorly written too

[skhardwarevers1]

when he writes you an entire letter to provide closure (the closure is vaguely mentioning that he messed up a little in the middle of three pages just accusing you of being a manipulative lovebomber): 😨

[covenha]

Synopsis: perv!roommate!yeosang can't stop thinking ungodly things about his best friend. Pairings: Perv!bff!yeosang x fem reader Genre: smut, mdni Warnings: smut (duh), yeosang in grey sweatpants bc that should be a warning WC: 746 a/n: this is filth that has been backlogged into my brain the minute that yeosang posted *that* black and white photo on ig so you know what's up. this is purely fiction so the this does not portray his character irl in any way shape or form. this is my first time writing smut so if it's poorly written or sounds like it came from those weird alpha tiktok shorts i am so sorry. its yet another self-indulgent fic so lmk how it is. as always, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated and my inbox is open for any requests!

just imagine pervy bff!Yeosang, you guys have been roommates for a few months now as the both of you just started college together and thought that living in an apartment together was better than living in some dingy university dorm room with strangers. he thought the idea was fine then, but he didn’t realize just how hard it was living with someone he had a massive crush on. 

you guys have always been comfortable with each other. you guys wore your more… questionable loungewear around each other. but you not wearing bras around him was a new thing. when you asked if it was cool to not wear bras around the apartment since they were uncomfortable to wear all day, yeosang agreed immediately stating that he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable in your living space. but he couldn’t help but get turned on. 

the bustling city’s humid weather was a hellscape compared to the cooler temperatures you both were accustomed to back in your seaside town. this meant that when the sun was at its highest, the apartment you guys shared was like a microwave. and this also meant that you would wear lighter clothing. those thinner tank tops that showcased your chest so well, those crop tops that showed off your midriff, and those fucking pajama shorts that did nothing to cover your legs. sometimes he manages to get a glimpse of your cotton panties peeking through. All of these things adding up would damn near drive yeosang to insanity. 

the sight of you wearing clothes that left nearly nothing to the imagination sent blood rushing straight to his dick. he’s lost count of how many times he’s had to rub one out quickly in his room to the thought of you. it was starting to get out of hand if he was being honest, he might start shooting blanks and get an electrolyte imbalance.

and the dreams were the worst part. he really thought that phase was over. the awkward wet dreams he’d have at night with some unknown female living out his sexual fantasies. but he was wrong. and they’ve come back stronger and more vivid than ever. and what’s worse is, you are always the star of these dreams. 

on some nights he’d have you face down, ass up, your hands held behind your back as he fucked you to oblivion on your bed with your plushies facing the wall. on other nights you’re riding his dick whining about how deep he is inside you that you can feel him in your stomach. and other times he has you splayed on the kitchen counter as he eats you out for so long you start shaking violently and squirting on his pretty face. 

on this particular night he has you on his bed, your neck marred with red splotches of his love bites. you whine about it being too much, and i mean who could blame you? he had been going at it for 3 rounds already and he didn’t show any signs of stopping. with your thighs on his shoulders, he was practically folding you in half and the aches of his passionate love making were starting to seep into your poor body. but yeosang persisted, mumbling something about how he was almost there. and it truly felt like he was. 

your spongy spot had been abused beyond belief and your whines of his name were the only things coming out of your mouth at this point.

“Sangi….”

“Sangi….”

“Yeosang!” 

and he comes so hard in one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever had in his life. 

“Dude, get up!” 

he’s groggy as he hears your voice. he’s laying on his front, face plopped down on his pillow. he groans as he wakes up from your shaking. 

“We’re gonna be late for the bus, Sang. You have like 20 minutes to get ready.” you shake him some more to snap him out of his sleepy state. 

he just hums in a sound of agreement before he breathes a sigh of relief as you walk out of his room and close the door. he can feel the spurts of come in his sweatpants sticking uncomfortably around his now soft dick. his grey sweatpants were stained a dark grey in the groin area. he came so much that he felt it dripping down his leg when he stood up. man, how was he supposed to survive 4 more years of this torture? 

[cl3fairyyy]

hide and seek || edward nashton / the riddler x fem reader (nsfw !) ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

summary || your sex life recently with edward has been non existent. with him being so focused on his plans for gotham, you have found your needs being neglected. you decide to take initiative and plan a fun game for edward while he's at work.

warnings || SMUT!! there is plot but this is pretty much straight up porn lol. reader and edward role-play a kidnapping scenario but everything is consensual!! slapping, restraints, degradation, light knife play, overstimulation, p in v, pussy eating, choking, hunting(?kind of?), (fake) threats of violence, mentions of stalking, the suit stays ON during sex, some weird purity/ corruption stuff in this idk i think a demon possessed me halfway through writing this. minors please do not interact!!

word count || 4k i did not mean for it to be this long oopsie!!

notes || i haven't written smut in a LONG time so i am so sorry if this is straight up garbage pls go easy on me. recently reread year one and im seriously going insane the hyperfixation is so back guys. i love writing edward so much especially when it comes to writing some nasty porn about him LOL. i srsly had no idea how to end this so its kinda bad sorry D:

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★

In recent months, you have found yourself growing increasingly frustrated. For the longest time, you haven’t had the faintest idea of what has been causing this, and that has caused it to manifest itself in various ways throughout your everyday life. You have found yourself much more easily annoyed by the most minor inconveniences, and have had repeated warnings at work to stop arguing with customers over the pettiest of matters. 

One afternoon in late November, whilst attempting to share in your boyfriend’s body heat on the sofa of your freezing living room, watching the news and listening to him ramble about finally ‘revealing the truth,’ it hits you. 

Edward hasn’t fucked you in months. 

Even before this change, you didn’t have the most active sex life- you were both too busy holding down your day jobs whilst simultaneously investigating the corruption poorly concealed beneath Gotham’s cobbled streets. Still, you’d find the time every other week or so to take care of each other. 

You love having sex with Edward; he’s so gentle with you, handling you like a precious gem that will shatter if dropped. He always makes sure your needs are met before he even thinks of himself, worshipping your body with an obsession akin to a deeply faithful Catholic’s love for Christ himself.  

But sometimes... it can get boring. Not as boring as not having sex at all, but boring enough that you often find yourself lying awake at night, longing for Edward to keep up his Riddler persona for just a little while longer after he arrives home from doing whatever he does to have the coppery scent of blood soaking into the walls of your small apartment. 

You know your frustration will only worsen the longer you go without having sex, so you decide to do a small experiment. 

You take the next few days off work, pretending to be sick, and Edward, usually ever attentive to your every need, your Edward, who begins panicking if you all but sniffle the wrong way, barely notices. With your theory proven that his work has been turning him into someone who is evidently not your sweet Edward, you begin doing everything you can for even an ounce of attention from him. You give him shoulder massages after he returns home from a long day at work, cook him his favourite meals, run baths for him, at some point it evolves into you all but throwing yourself at him, and you have to take a step back to reevaluate your approach. Being that desperate for sex is not a good look, especially when your boyfriend is completely oblivious to how horny you are.  

You decide you need to formulate a plan to force him to focus on you. 

It starts with the lingerie. You scour the shopping apps on your phone for an embarrassingly long time, trying to find something perfect. You eventually come across a pretty lilac set, its sheer mesh bra framed with soft ruffles and feminine frills to accentuate your chest, and immediately order it, even begrudgingly spending a little extra for next day delivery. 

The next step of your plan is to come up with a simple puzzle, something stimulating but still to the point- you're so horny that you know the next time you’re in a room with Edward while he still has that Riddler costume on, it’s going to take some real self-restraint to stop yourself from ripping it off him.  

The final step of your plan is waiting for the perfect moment to put everything into action. You realise it isn’t the most complicated or glamorous scheme to ever exist, but if it manages to work and allows you to finally get some action, you won’t be complaining.  

One evening, when it’s well past 5pm, and definitely well past the time Edward should have been home from the office, you get a text from your beloved. 

hi honey, moved tuesday’s plans forward to today. got an opening with savage and cant miss it. will be home late- ill pick up food on my way back. love you. 

we’re finally making some REAL change : ) 

You almost leap out of your chair with excitement, rushing around the apartment to make sure everything is in place for your little game of hide and seek. 

When Edward finally returns home, the apartment is dark- it’s well past 11pm, so he figures you’re in bed. He sighs, setting down the takeaway bag on the coffee table and calling out your name, pausing when you don’t answer. You always wait up for him when he’s running his late-night ‘errands.’ When he thinks about it more, he realises you didn’t even text him back earlier this evening; you’ve been sick, too- what if you collapsed, or had complications, or worse?  

Before he can begin panicking, he finally notices the lit candle on the kitchen counter. Next to it is a piece of paper, which Edward gingerly picks up with shaking hands, reading the five words scrawled across it. 

‘Dear Riddler, 

Come find me.’ 

Confusion clouds Edward’s mind for a moment before he realises that he’s reading your handwriting, and the sweet flowery scent giving him a headache is his favourite perfume of yours. He stands still for a moment, rereading the note as the familiar feeling of want begins to curl in his lower belly. You’ve never actually addressed him as the Riddler before. 

He definitely likes it. 

You crouch uncomfortably in your hiding space beneath the dining table, straining your ears against the silence of the apartment as you try to gauge how Edward has taken your little game based off his breathing. You hear the rustling of fabric and the sound of something zipping up, and realise he must’ve slipped his jacket and mask back on because his breaths are definitely muffled now.  

He begins taking slow, deliberate steps around the apartment, his combat boots loudly thudding on the wooden floorboards as he does so. You suddenly feel very vulnerable in only your undergarments and wonder if this is how his victims must feel, a thrill tingling deliciously up your spine. 

You shift a little in your spot, trying to find a way to crouch comfortably while also remaining out of sight. Your heart pounds so hard in anticipation of being spotted that you’re sure Edward can hear it, especially when his footsteps begin to head towards your hiding spot.  

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the sound of your breathing to an absolute minimum; the silence in your apartment is deafening and, for the first time in all the years you have known him, you begin to feel almost weary of Edward’s presence. In this moment, you’re not just Edward’s partner. 

You’re his prey. 

So wrapped up in your own mind, you don’t hear Edward’s footsteps behind you. You feel two strong, gloved hands grab your hips and rip you out of your thoughts. You squeal giddily as Edward throws you onto the wooden dining table, biting your lip to stifle the giggles that threaten to spill out. 

Edward looms over you, his glasses glinting in the moonlight that seeps into the apartment through the cracks in the blinds. He is completely silent, save for the heavy breaths muffled by his mask. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and raspy, and the sound of it sends tiny shivers of excitement up your arms. 

“I’ve been watching you for so long. Every move you make, I’ve followed from the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to snatch you up. Do you know how hard it’s been? Hearing your pathetic whimpers while you fuck yourself every night, and having to wait until it’s me making you unravel? But now I have you here, all to myself, and no one is around to save you.” 

The sight of him like this, so indescribably large compared to you, looking down on you like a lion that has captured its prey and is about to rip it to shreds- it sends sparks of arousal through you that pool in your sheer underwear. You look up at Edward through your eyelashes, smiling innocently. 

“Looks like you caught me.” 

With that, he drags you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he heads towards your bedroom. Your face burns, unsure of when or how he got so strong, and the anticipation of what he is about to do to you sends tingles of delight down your spine. 

Edward throws you carelessly onto the bed before straddling you. He wordlessly grasps your wrists in one gloved hand, holding them above your head while he rips off a piece of duct tape from the roll that dangles from his belt, and binds them together securely. He subtly tilts his head to the side, and you can read him so well at this point that you know he’s asking if your restraints are too tight. You shake your head, and he immediately melts back into character, sweeping his gaze down your exposed body predatorily.  

His gloved hands reach forward, roughly groping your breasts, pinching and rolling your clothed nipples between his fingers. You squeak, writhing beneath him, deciding to put on a bit of a show with it. 

“P... please, don’t...” you whimper pathetically, bucking your hips into his. You hear him groan under his breath above you, removing one hand from your chest to grip your chin harshly, squishing your cheeks together. “Shut up.” His voice is low and dangerous when he speaks, a complete contrast to the sweet voice Edward usually addresses you with. “You’re trapped here, and no one is coming for you. You can scream as loud as you want, it won’t make a difference.” 

“You’re so pitiful, dressed up like one of those whores on the street just to get my attention.” He breathes out slowly, slipping a gloved finger beneath your bra to massage your nipple. “I can’t say it hasn’t worked, but a whore is still a whore. You need to be cleansed, like the rest of the filth in this city, and the only person willing to do that is me. That’s why,” he pauses, the hand gripping your chin roughly yanking your mouth open as he leans over you, pulling up his mask slightly and spitting in your mouth, “you will take everything I give to you like a grateful little bitch.” 

He slaps your face, hard enough to sting but not enough to bruise, and you swallow the mixture of your saliva and his. You can’t stop the moan that slips out from between your parted lips, and he locks eyes with you, his pupils blown so wide with arousal that his eyes appear completely black in the low light. He leans forward again, pulling up his mask, and harshly kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth as his knee forces your legs apart. You whimper when you feel his erection brush against your thigh and he bites down on your bottom lip, hard. He moves his focus to your neck and collarbones, attacking the sensitive skin with kisses and bites, marking every inch of you that’s visible. 

“This is so,” he murmurs breathlessly between fervent kisses to your skin- and, Christ, is he smelling you?- “everyone knows you were fucked by the Riddler. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For everyone to know that you’re such a whore that getting fucked by a serial killer gets that pathetic cunt of yours completely soaked.” You moan at his words, arching your back to press your chest against his as you grind against his knee. 

“Such a needy little thing. One touch from me and you’re already at my complete disposal.” He leans back on his heels to look over you, your hair a complete mess, your lips swollen and as red as the flush on your skin. The strap of your bra has slipped down your shoulder and Edward’s breaths become haggard as he reaches for the knife on his belt; he cuts away the fabric hiding your breasts from him, much to your dismay (that lingerie set was pretty fucking expensive), and immediately takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before biting down lightly. You moan louder, squirming against your restraints and trying to pull away from him. 

He slaps you again, harder this time, running the flat side of his knife against the mark that begins blooming on your cheek. “If you don’t shut up and take it like a good girl, I'll have to hurt you.” He presses a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to ruin a face as pretty as yours.” 

You whimper, rubbing your clothed core against Edward’s thigh, feeling the arousal in your lower belly build from the stimulation. Edward certainly doesn’t miss this, his eyes widening slightly as he peels your underwear away from your pussy. A string of your own slick connects you to the mesh fabric, and you can hear the amusement in Edward’s voice when he says, “oh, I’m going to ruin you.” 

He cuts your underwear away, dragging his knife down your body painfully slowly. You shiver from the cool metal, whining from frustration when Edward’s gloved fingers spread your glistening folds, pointedly ignoring your throbbing clit. 

“You pathetic girl... so wet for me. No one else could get you to react like this from their words alone, could they?” You shake your head rapidly, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get closer to Edward’s fingers. “Say it, then.” He begins lazily rubbing circles into your clit, causing you to cry out with relief at him finally touching you. He runs the blunt end of his knife across your neck, twisting it in his hand so the tip presses into your skin, not quite breaching your flesh. “Nice and clear for me. Tell me that you’re my bitch.” 

You moan when he begins speeding up his movements on your clit, stumbling over your words. “I.. I’m your- your b-” He cuts you off with another slap to your cheek, and the action sends a sharp jolt of pleasure right to your clit, causing you to choke out a moan. “Not quite, pretty girl. Try again. Whose bitch are you?” Your eyes narrow with confusion for a second before you realise what he wants you to say. 

“I’m th- the Riddler’s bitch.” 

He nods, satisfied, pushing two gloved fingers inside of you while the other continues rubbing your clit. You can feel your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast, whimpering and giving Edward a pleading look. 

He nods wordlessly and you unravel, your orgasm enveloping your body in a blissful warmth as your pussy clenches hard around Edward’s fingers. He breathes out through his nose, hard, as he watches you cum, his cock throbbing at the feeling of your pussy spasming around his fingers.  

Edward pulls his fingers out of you when your body finally finishes shaking, inspecting your wetness on them in the low light of your bedroom for several moments, before pushing them under his mask and sucking them clean. He moans at the taste of you, and you feel his dick twitching against your leg as he closes his eyes, savouring you. He sighs, opening his eyes. 

“I need more.” 

Before you can react, he’s gripping your waist with strong hands, dragging your body up against him, holding you up almost completely off the bed, and hooking your legs over his shoulders. Edward gazes at your drenched cunt with a hunger in your eyes that you've never seen displayed by him, his breaths deep and shaky as he smells the arousal leaking out of you. You squeak, thighs still quivering from your previous orgasm. 

“W-wait, Ed- Riddler, I... I’m still t-too sensitive for...” You cut yourself out with a cry of pained pleasure as he latches his mouth onto your pussy, pushing his tongue into your sensitive hole. You sob as he sucks on your clit, shocks of overstimulation wracking through you as you weakly kick your legs against him, your body growing limp. The sounds Edward makes as he devours your pussy are obscene, the room filling with echoes of your cries and Edward’s moans as he sucks and licks crudely at your sex. 

He pulls away occasionally, praising and degrading you in barely coherent pussydrunk babbles: “such a perfect girl for me,” “stupid bitch, such a needy whore for your savior,” “so pretty with mascara running down your face,” “any louder and I'll give you a real reason to cry,” “taste so good, i need all of you.” And it’s all so much, his tongue writhing so deep inside you, the grip of his hands on your ass, the cool leather biting into your flesh, the way he moans and ruts into the bed from the taste of you, and before you can even breathe you’re cumming again, and you’re cumming so hard your back lifts off the bed entirely, the strength of your orgasm rocking you all the way to your core. Your mind goes blank as a chain of choked moans and sobs spill from between your lips, all you can focus on being the way Edward continues to fuck you with his tongue all the way through your orgasm. You can feel your slick sliding down your thighs, and when Edward pulls away you can see it dripping down his chin, and you don’t miss the proud grin on his face as he pulls down his mask. 

He drops you back onto the bed, straddling you once more and wiping your slick from his chin with his finger, motioning for you to open your mouth. You obey him and he pushes the digit inside, motioning for you to suck it clean. When he pulls his finger from your mouth, his eyes darken, and you can practically feel the smug smile in his words. “Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you? No one can make you cum like I can... and I can still smell how horny you are for me. You’re so needy, yet you’re never satisfied.” 

He tilts his head, and the dim light from the lamp behind him illuminates him similarly to a halo, and you almost find yourself beginning to create a religion in your head just to worship him. 

“I don’t think you’re being very grateful.” 

You begin crying out words of thanks, rubbing your legs together to lessen the ache of overstimulation. Edward's knees cage you in, and he grips one of your thighs with his hands. 

“Quit your grovelling and stop fucking moving when I’m talking to you.” His hand travels to your face, cupping your cheek with a surprising tenderness as he sighs. “You’re still so filthy... look what this city has done to you. I suppose I’m your last hope.” 

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, finally freeing his cock from its confines. The tip is an angry red and leaks with precum, and Edward lets out a breathy moan as he strokes it. He spreads your legs, lining himself up with your sex and pushing into you slowly. He gazes down at you, a complete mess beneath him, and groans. “You’re so lucky... being fucked by Gotham’s salvation...” 

You can barely think, let alone speak, and when Edward begins moving his hips, his thumb finding your clit and massaging it, you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks. He moves in and out of your agonisingly slowly, and when you look up at him, you can make out that his eyes are closed as he savours the feeling of you. 

“Your virgin pussy is so... so fucking tight. Oh... h-how does it feel to be fucked by your saviour? Your God?” 

You sniffle beneath him, choking on your sobs as he speeds up to a punishing pace, his cock bruising your insides. He grabs at every inch of you, his hands finding refuge around your throat. 

“Oh, you’re so good. You were so filthy, but I will cleanse you. I will purify you; I will plant the seed of hope within you, and you will be saved.” 

He babbles on as he fucks you, squeezing his fingers around your throat, verging on crushing your windpipe but never quite gripping hard enough. You cry out for him, so cockdrunk and lightheaded from your sudden lack of oxygen that you find yourself looping your bound wrists around his neck, pulling him forward and crashing your lips to the rough leather of his mask. He makes a noise of surprise before his fingers once again find your clit, rubbing at it desperately as his hips begin to stutter against your own. 

Edward, ever the gentlemen, wants you to cum before him; you feel your cheeks grow warm at the thought, and pull away to look at him. You can barely keep your focus on him, your vision going hazy, and he begins assaulting your clit with more fervor. 

“Be a good little angel and cum for your savior.” 

Your vision goes white as the orgasm rips through you, your entire body spasming as your pussy clenches down hard on Edward’s cock. He has to stop moving to prevent himself from cumming as he guides you through your own orgasm, his fingers weaving through your hair as he coos at you. 

“Yes, that’s it. Such a perfect girl. So pretty cumming on my cock.” 

He begins speeding up again, his hips slapping against yours with a clumsy rhythm, his breathy moans growing louder and more desperate with each thrust. You lay, exhausted, whimpering incoherent words of encouragement to him as he chases after his own climax. 

You feel him begin to pull out and you weakly wrap your legs around his hips. “W-want you inside. Need... need you to cleanse me from the inside.” 

Your words are what tip Edward over the edge, and he whimpers loudly as his cum spills inside you, his hips grinding into yours as he relishes in the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

Thank God you're on birth control.

Edward slowly pulls out of you and cuts the duct tape that binds you, gently pressing kisses to the insides of your wrists. He pulls off his fogged up glasses and his mask, placing a gentle kiss to your lips as he smiles at you worriedly. 

“I didn’t go too far, did I?” 

There's your lovely Eddie.

You shake your head, laughing weakly and he smiles, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he helps you to your feet and guides you to the bathroom, letting you use his body for support. Edward sits you on the lip of the bath and dampens a towel, gentle cleaning you up and placing loving kisses to every bare patch of skin he can reach. He reluctantly leaves you alone to freshen up as he straightens up the bed, changing into his pajamas and finding your favourite t shirt of his to sleep in. 

When you re-enter the bedroom, with a slight limp that Edward definitely notices but refuses to comment on, he dresses you and tucks you into bed before lying next to you, brushing your hair out of your eyes. 

“Sorry I’ve been so... distant lately.” 

When you go to answer him, he rubs his thumb soothingly on your cheek and you get the message that he hasn’t finished talking. 

“We have big things planned, we both know that, but... it wasn’t right of me to not look after you when, now that I look back at it, you really made it obvious that you needed me to. I hope you can forgive me.” 

You smile, pressing a shy kiss to Edward’s lips. 

“Don’t apologise, Eddie. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You can apologise tomorrow when I can’t feel my legs or sit down properly for a week.” 

He laughs and buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.  

“I really love you, you silly girl. A-and..."

He pulls away from you but continues to avert his gaze, his cheeks pink and a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

"The, um, th-the lingerie was very pretty, you looked really lovely. I'm, ah, sorry about..."

He doesn't meet your eyes and you snort, bringing a hand to rest on his cheek with a fond smile.

"Yeah. That I'm not so quick to forgive. You have no idea how expensive nice underwear is when you're a woman."

Edward laughs shyly, delicately holding your wrist and pressing tender kisses to your palm that leave you melting. The heat in his eyes, however, is undeniable.

"I absolutely will not complain if you decide to spend all my money on pretty lingerie and then decide to model said lingerie for me."

"You're unbelievable."

You both laugh as Edward continues peppering soft kisses up your arm, then your bruising neck before finally meeting your lips in a tender kiss. He pulls away, and the way he looks at you with such love and adoration almost makes you tear up.

Edward twirls a strand of hair around his finger, pulling you closer to his chest. His fingers reach up and he begins combing them through your hair properly, whispering sweet praise to you as you find yourself dozing off.

[spitblaze]

Mouthwashing spoilers below cut, played through it again today bc i accidentally nullified all of my achievements through the dev console. oops

Okay so the first time I played through it I was high and it was very late at night. Already a great start but it means I missed some shit my first time through and I'm already not exactly stellar at more abstract literary analysis. LUCKILY this site is full of people who are way better at that than I am (and im convincing my partners who are also way better at it than I am to play it soon too).

Luckily I'm better at lit analysis than whoever the weirdo on the Steam forum saying this game is bad because it 'doesn't punish Jimmy for his actions enough' as if this isnt a horror game primarily about his guilt-induced mental breakdown and if i have to see anyone else say that anya is a poorly written character im going to poorly write them out of existence because I'm inclined to believe that if you think that you either weren't fucking paying attention or have subscribed to the Joss Whedon school of feminist writing which is 'good writing of women is when they are girlboss'. like sorry shes too much of a depressed traumatized Fawn Response rape victim for your liking. jesus christ

Anyway the game being short DOES lend itself well to multiple playthroughs, which honestly is for the best because its really one of those stories that reveals a lot more on a second viewing. There's a Lot going on here but as far as I can tell, the biggest themes here are what it means to 'take responsibility' as well as autonomy and the loss thereof. The responsibility one is for sure the most obvious one, how many times in the game does it directly say 'take responsibility'? How many times does Curly say 'I'll fix this', how many times does Jimmy say he'll 'fix this'? And ultimately, how successful are either of them?

Curly's a good leader, sure, but how much does he just let slide for the sake of 'the big picture'? Daiske was a last minute addition. He's a good kid, but he didn't make a stink about it. Gotta think about the big picture. Anya has told him about what Jimmy did to her. Nothing. 'What would you do?' 'Anything.' But nothing. Absolutely nothing. I'm not gonna sit here and say that Curly is 100% every bit as evil as Jimmy, if someone is raped the blame falls squarely on the rapist- but it's completely on Curly for not taking action against Jimmy for the sake of the big picture. He really could've done anything. Fucking anything. It's not necessarily on Curly to foresee that Jimmy's stress response would be to end it and take everyone else with him. But it was on him to do something about a known violent assault and its perpetrator before anyone else got hurt. He's not a perpetrator, but he's an accessory. He may not have deserved the punishment he got. But he's nothing if not agonizingly aware of the consequences for not taking responsibility for the actions of his crew.

Jimmy, meanwhile, is obsessed with responsibility despite the fact that he's incapable of actually handling it, from the very start. It's not clear when exactly he assaulted Anya, but I assume it was after Curly broke the news to the crew. The moment even a shred of consequences emerge, the minute Anya tells him that she's pregnant, his first course of action is to deliberately sabotage the ship. Murder-suicide. He says he's sorry. That he made a mistake. As if there were not multiple, deliberate steps at which he could've stopped and realized what he was doing. After everything, he tells the crew it was Curly's fault so he could have more of that responsibility he desired so much. Not that anyone respects it except maybe Daisuke.

But he can't handle even the most basic of responsibilities there, either. A handful of menial tasks and he fucking snaps at the woman he hurt to begin with, even when she only ever acts the way she does around him to avoid further hurt. 'Take responsibility'. But he can't. Over and over he'll tell the vision of Curly he's made in his heads that he's sorry, that he'll fix things, that they'll all make it. And then he just keeps making things worse. And worse. And worse. Anya's going to hurt Curly, she's suspect and violent. Swanson won't let them into Utility. That's suspect, he's going to get out of here and leave everyone else behind. They both have to be stopped. Don't you trust me, Daisuke? Don't you trust your captain? That's why YOU have to go through the vent. He cannot fucking take responsibility, only goad others into doing things and handling things as underhandedly as possible. No wonder Curly laughs when he takes the gun. Anya spent all this time trying to keep it from him. And he got it anyway, because that'll all Jimmy knows how to do. Take and resent and hurt. His own twisted version of 'responsibility'.

It genuinely pisses me off how many people write off Anya as being 'badly written' or write her off altogether, especially considering the VERY OBVIOUS character she's based off of, being Wendy Torrance in The Shining (Yes I'm aware there's baggage around that particular character's strength of writing too, but I'm not about to go off on a rant about a movie ive only absorbed through cultural osmosis). Like...she's not a perfectly written character, no- her arc is less about her as a character and more about the things that have been done to her. Sexual assault used as a narrative device, nothing new there- it's at least less egregious in a horror story, where fear and trauma and terrible things happening to good people is kinda the whole thing. My big issue with Anya's writing is that we didn't get more of her- more exploration of how Jimmy's actions affected her, more exploration of how her and Curly are that much more alike after the crash- it's not a very long game to start, and given her character and the situation I don't necessarily disagree with her going out the way she did at the time she did. It just would've been nice if they'd utilized the nonlinear structure of the whole thing to explore her more, y'know?

Given Jimmy's PoV it makes sense that he's more fixated on the consequences of raping her than on the woman herself, but from the Doylist perspective, like...c'mon, give us SOMETHING more to work with. And like I said before, it pisses me off that people see a woman who doesn't immediately fall into the 'girlboss' role when shit hits the fan and then write it off, as if the premise of the story isn't about everyone's reaction to a hopeless situation spearheaded by a violent, manipulative, self-centered shithead. Swansea's the most capable person here outside of Jimmy and Anya, and I've yet to see anyone saying his character was weak because he spends most of his time drinking and raging instead of taking action. I'm mostly just upset that I don't have much more to say about her outside of her relationship to the rest of the crew. One could argue that most of what we are is defined by our relationships to others, and the nature of the game means that we don't really get a deep peek into anyone's psyche besides Curly and Jimmy.

I like how she invokes the metaphor of that dead pixel, the detail that sticks out like a sore thumb to her, always in the back of her mind, ever-present, that Curly can't see and never will because he's too busy looking at the big picture. I like how they establish the nature of Jimmy and Anya's relationship without being too direct, putting up that brave fawn act while he's there- she has to, the ship is only so big and they're so off course that rescue seems impossible- but she doesn't sleep in the same room as everyone else, she won't confide in Jimmy, and his mistreatment of her was what finally drove her over the edge. Jimmy's more concerned about what she might do to Curly that what she might do to herself, and he KNOWS that she's prone to mental breakdowns- often caused by himself, if not by Curly's state. The whole thing is tragic, but Anya's case is particularly saddening. Even after her death, she's paraded around like a puppet so that Jimmy can have his macabre little party. He doesn't care about her. He never did. And yet he's haunted by her, the 'sexual thoughts of cartoon horses' intermingling with his strange psychosexual hatred of the nurse just trying to do her job, haunted by the consequences of his actions because he's too much of a fucking coward to really, honestly and truly, take responsibility.

Swansea and Daisuke I have less to say about, ultimately. They feel a lot more straightforward in their narratives, at least from my perspective. Daisuke's a dumb kid with a shitty internship and he's so upbeat and positive that it genuinely pisses Swanson off, which means that he does ultimately care about the kid. A+ dynamic. Seems like a prick on an initial playthrough, but on the second run through I get it. He's old enough, he's seen enough, he knows exactly what Jimmy is and doesn't buy his responsible act for a second. He's not a captain. He's just some shithead who acts like he can handle it but flees in the most destructive way possible the second the consequences rear their head. He's a man that, even in the throes of substance abuse, does a better job of taking responsibility than Jimmy ever could, and arguably better than Curly ever did. Instead of just shrugging his shoulders at a last minute intern, he took him under his wing and started training him. When shit hits the fan, his instinct is to protect Daisuke- the one person who IS his responsibility. When he really, truly does not believe there is anything else that can be done, he puts him out of his misery. Maybe he was saving that cryo pod for him, too. It's hard to say, but the fact that he's the only one who stood up to Jimmy and saw him for what he was makes him that much more likable.

Daisuke...oh, Daisuke. He couldn't have known this was coming. He was doing his best, he just did what he could, he tried to be helpful and kind and be a good person. And for that, Jimmy used him and got him killed because he was too much of a goddamn coward to apologize to Anya, to see her as anything besides a nuisance at best. I get why Jimmy is so fixated on his death- as far as he's concerned, his first real failure, since Anya was such a non-issue that he didn't even have anything to say about her lifeless body. It wasn't just his inaction that got this kid killed, it was his actions. He had every opportunity to use even a single ounce of his brain and recognize that there are other people on the ship besides him and Anya, to recognize that these psych evals aren't just for the sake of the individual. And for that, Daisuke died. Way to go, hero.

The autonomy shit...god. Psychological trauma can be just as incapacitating as physical harm, can't it? Anya completely changing her demeanor after being assaulted, her body no longer just her own. I want to see the horror of that from her perspective, the invasion and the terror and revulsion of having something like that growing inside you. How sickening it must feel, how just the knowledge of its existence makes living that much worse. How the man who did it is still nothing but despotic. Curly, finally seeing Jimmy for who he truly is firsthand. It's all well and good to believe in someone, to trust them and want to help them overcome their struggles. But being choked and beaten and abused by them, day after day after day, because you had the audacity to sit a little higher on the totem pole than they did, because you had what they wanted, because they couldn't stand seeing someone better off then they were.

It's kind of mind-boggling, honestly. I've...kinda been there, with people who I know are still there, they're fully in there and aware and the same person they've always been, but their means to communicate with the outside world is cut off. I was fortunate enough to have been listening to a lot of disability activists around the time my aunt started losing her speech. It seemed a lot of times that the only people who really recognized that she was still there were me and my uncle. Even my mom, her older sister, inseparable for life, started treating her like she was suddenly a different person, not capable of really understanding her or wanting or doing things for herself.

So, like- not trying to be selfish or anything, just doing the autistic 'oh i can relate to this' bit, particularly about Jimmy projecting all of this shit onto the captain when he barely has the capacity to laugh or cry, let alone speak. His savior. His best friend. His bitter enemy. Beating him relentlessly while giving him his medicine for having the audacity to be an inconvenience. Let's eat some cake. I want to go home. Curly is just a man, and Jimmy regards him as helpless, antagonistic, and a god all at once. He'll thank me for this one day.

So uh. Many thoughts, head full. After the end of the bizarro sequence with Curly heading to the cockpit, the door is very small. A black pixel, the one stuck in the back of Anya's mind. A graveyard full of mausoleums, every one of them with the same epitaph as the bizarro one for Daigo in ch 14, and the one you can enter with his face on it. Not a single one for Anya. The Polle at the end having the same blue text as Anya, haunting the narrative just as much as Curly, just less overt. I'll fix this. I'll take responsibility. God. God jesus fuck damn hell christ son of a bitch. Fuck capitalism for putting their employees on such tight strings and skeleton crews that a collective pink slip can send people into this kind of spiral (or rather can give Jimmy a good reason to convince everyone else that all of them are completely fucked except for the captain and Daisukle) and fuck Jimmy. Fuck him. My one other complaint besides the feminist critique above is that theres some sequences that go on a bit longer than they really should (ch. 14 getting the mouthwash, most of the vent segments).

Fuck you, Jimmy.

I hope that gunshot hurt.

[aho-dapa]

Side note, because I'm watching a video essay that's pretty much saying everything I've been thinking about about,

With sjm's writing, what separates it from a typical romantasy not to take seriously is that post ACOTAR, the author suddenly says to take it seriously.

Feyre's Calanmai Hall scene isn't about Feyre not wanting Tamlin's advances, but that she does, she's just doing the typical romantasy protag thing of rejecting what you really desire. Think about how this contrasts with Rhysand's scenes utm, she doesn't want them and its not given enough detail, but this changes after Feyre and Rhysand get together. For example, the CoN scene. The fucking mid air thing. The telepathy sexting that can happen at anytime without true consequence. Very exhibition. Much voyeur.

This is literally sjm's fantasies played out through Feyre and Rhysand, and even through Feyre and Tamlin.

Despite how much I like Tamlin, he only really became a truly nuanced character in hindsight for me because of sjm's unintentional manipulations of her own narrative. In ACOTAR, he's also built around Feyre the same way most characters are in the first book.

He is built to fit into Feyre, he's meant to parallel her acceptance of her own desires, her own beast through him, because submitting to him is submitting to herself. That's why Feyre's themes get mixed up post ACOTAR, she loses that beast like quality to become a star to suit Rhysand. And sjm brings that back in ACOWAR with the Mirror (although it doesn't hit like it once would have because instead to fitting Rhysand to Feyre, sjm wrote Feyre to fit Rhysand).

The thing that's frustrating is that sjm is the one that is saying these are just not her fantasies on page, she's the one that brought mental health into it, brought up abuse and neglect, and handled it all so poorly.

It's this thing where sjm still wants to have the upturned-nose high ground in her books, she wants to be right, she doesn't want Feyre to be questioned or truly be in the wrong because Feyre is her fantasy. sjm likely writes Tamlin to not like human slavery, not want to be like his father, and with a self sacrificing personality while keeping his beast like qualities for the steamy parts. Because he's written to have that middle ground most people looking for that fantasy can still enjoy while not being too disturbing for our modern sensibilities.

That's why some people not looking for this find Tamlin and Rhysand's actions strange and gross, but people who already indulge in those fantasies were okay with it. And there's even people who think that ACOTAR is too vanilla (me). Anyway.

Basically, ACOTAR is not meant to be taken seriously, its literally another romance book with a fancy (?) cover. Post ACOTAR is not tho, so sjm makes a big deal about taking it seriously because she wants that middle ground with Rhysand when honestly, Rhysand could have been a dark romance ML and no one would have batted an eye. But that wouldn't work for the precedent sjm established with the middle ground, she needs that 'he's feral and sexy and toes the consent line but it's fine because xyz' in her books, and that's why the fandom is so divided. We can't decide whether or not to take it seriously or not because sjm switched up.

Her fault as a writer is that she didn't do this well at all.

I mean, this is also coming from the same woman that briefly had another one of her characters entertain their sovereign right to colonization in goodwill, so. This woman should never have been taken seriously. Unfortunately, she insists upon herself. So in order to actually discuss these books, we have to take her silliness seriously.

(Which is why I stopped because it's an endless cycle of saying sjm wrote something silly and because she's saying it's serious, now we gotta be serious about bat birthing or whatever)

Never forget how I saw a bat get birthed just to actualize how stupid the *gets shot*

[manilovedinosaurs]

something that really stuck with me since my first time seeing dead poets society is that neil and charlie smoke

i dont know if charlie does it to be cool or something but neil he definitely doesnt smoke for the fun of it but because of how pressured he feels

keep in mind that he is SEVENTEEN

so like FUCK anyone who thinks of neil's suicide as 'poorly written' or 'impulsive' or 'too sudden' because neil's character has always been portrayed like that since the beginning you just dont pick up on it

[woodspr1te]

possessive!miles quaritch headcanons

summary: miles quaritch often makes his claim on you known… not that you really mind

warning: (poorly done) nsfw content ahead. also written with x afab!reader in mind, and includes several afab terms. vague? angst for like 3 seconds.

this man has lost everything, so when it comes to you??? he’s not taking any chances

constantly says something about you being his, even in the most normal of conversations....

lyle’s bothering you? he’s promptly told off with a “wainfleet. leave my woman alone.” 

AND GOD FORBID ANYONE EVER MAKES A COMMENT TOWARDS YOU 

the immediate eyebrow crease when he hears it. his ears tilt down, and flatten against his head. he grips the person’s shoulder as tight as possible, practically crushing it. his smile is almost lethal by itself with the amount of fang it shows, as he leans closer to them. “say another word about my girl again, and i’ll make sure any na’vi arrows are the least of your worries” 

keeps you basically pressed against him at all times. hands on your waist, gripping your ass, entangling your fingers in his... this list is endless

his favorite thing to do of all time is to press himself against you whenever you’re doing something. burying his face into your neck and nuzzling as close as he can while he breathes in your scent

he also enjoys grinding his hips against you while he presses gentle kisses to the back of your neck, hoping to get some attention

needy needy NEEDY man. i said what i said

he’s so desperate 24/7 honestly this man is a slut for you

the amount of times you’ve come back to your home with miles’s pants on the floor and him fucking his fist is unreal

you’ll watch from the doorway as he fists his cock, his tip an angry purple hue with precum leaking out

he’s already panting, making full eye contact as he mumbles out “get your ass over here so i can cum on those pretty tits, baby”

he has a thing for marking you with his cum

you’re lucky if you leave the room without smelling like sex for the next year, body aching from the number he does on you

has a thing for scenting you too. literally will rub his head and neck all over your body to cover you in his scent so others know you’re spoken for.

his recom body goes through heat? even worse. you’re literally unable to be seen for a week, and he’s constantly pumping you full of his cum

he won’t let you get up for a while after you both finish. his arms are caging you in tight as he presses butterfly kisses to your shoulder, sucking your skin lightly and nipping so it’ll bruise

he marks you UPPPPPPP like to the max

nothing can ever cover them up. and if you wear na’vi clothing? good luck.

your hips have faint fingertip marks all the time. it’s practically part of your skin now from how hard he grips them when bouncing you on his dick

HICKEYS. he has the mind of a teenage boy sometimes okay and all he cares about is everyone seeing how good you let him make you feel

bite marks. miles puts those teeth to use, okay. they litter the inside of your thighs and hip bones. he enjoys watching you squirm as he marks you up, especially when he’s taking his time eating you out

you cum on his fingers once when he bites your hip? he’ll do it every time from then on

prides himself on how good he makes you feel. when he’s fucking you from the back and you’re crying out for him, he’ll pull you up against his chest, wrapping his arm around you. then, he’ll make you tell him how good it feels or you don’t get to cum

you comply?? he’ll make you do it over and over. “who’s my good little slut?” “you like the way i make you feel? tell me how good this dick is.” “such a good girl, my good girl.” “nobody else is ever gonna give you this. only i can fuck you like this, right princess?”

YOU’RE A BRAT??? good luck. he will make you beg and then overstim you to eywa and back. ���only good girls get to finish. you think you’ve been my good girl?” “tell me you’re mine and i’ll think about letting you cum.” “who does this pussy belong to? that’s fucking right. me. say it.”

fucks you in front of mirrors so you can see how well he fits inside you. loves to fuck you with your hands pressed against the glass as he grips your throat and murmurs “you see that sloppy little cunt? look at how perfect it fits around me. look at how good you take my cum”

has a big thing for cockwarming and aftercare cuz he really loves you. runs his hands up and down your body, kissing your head as he mumbles how proud you made him and how you’re his sweet girl. makes sure to press all of his cum back into you, and presses a little bit down on your clit every time he does just to be a fucking tease.

he just wants to know you’ll love him for the rest of time and that he’s yours. as much as he loves hearing you say you’re his, he needs to know he belongs to you as well

you even jokingly tell him he’s your big, strong mate? he’s literally purring, tail swishing back and forth with happiness.

has such a strong urge to protect you. places his body in front of yours when there’s a suspicious noise. won’t let you out of his sight for a second.

miles LOVESSSSS when you seem like you need him. can’t sleep and you wake him up for comfort?

at first, he seems a little grumpy, but the moment he realizes it’s you his voice turns soft. “sweetheart… baby, what’s wrong? c’mere, i’ve got you. nothing’s gonna touch my girl, not while i’m here”

he’s not possessive in a “jealous of every man” kind of way. although he wouldn’t like the way some people look at you, it’s about you choosing to leave him/abandoning him more than anything

he’s lost so much already. his human self, his dignity, his son, the war…. but losing you would truly break him

ESPECIALLY if you are na’vi. not even recom. he doesn’t want your clan to steal you back, can’t let you betray him

it would terrify him if you both fought and you brought up leaving. perhaps it would be about the actions of specops or the rda’s actions. regardless, your cry of “i can’t fucking do this anymore, miles” stops him dead in his tracks

his throat feels like it’s closing. he has barely breathed in 10 seconds, and the silence between you both is deafening

you shook your head, turning away from him. “miles… i love you, but i can’t-”

“don’t fucking go. you promised you’re mine.” he interrupts you almost immediately, and he’s a lot closer than you remembered. he sounds broken, almost wounded

you swallow, looking down as you take his hands in yours. “my miles…”

he interrupts you again, pressing his forehead against yours. “you love me? then stay, please. we can figure it out, baby. we’re mates, right? m’not stupid, i know what it did when we made tsaheylu. i chose you forever, so choose me.”

he’s whipped, mkay. literally would rather saw his own tail off then hear you say you’re leaving him

lowkey freaks out if you ever get injured. he keeps a very calm facade, and perhaps even scolds you with a light “c’mon baby, what the hell were you thinking” but he’s secretly so happy you’re gonna be okay

shows you off at ANY AND EVERY possible chance

you walk in a room? “there she is! been looking all over for you, baby.”

hyper-aware of your reactions. he notices you’ve favoring one kind of fruit more, and all the suddenly he’s gathered 20 of them for your consumption

prides himself on being the best mate possible for you, and he’s going to make sure you know it too

[dooblebugss]

as requested, I wrote up some of my more...not-nice headcanons. Content Warning for suicide idealation, injury, and food issues

Hornet:

I've mentioned before that she has some issues with food. Thanks to surviving in the apocalypse she has some issues with just...not eating. And when she does, she will cut her portion to give to others. She's the Protector, and as protector, her needs come last. (During the height of the infection she went days without eating and is fully ready to do it again if she feels she needs to.)

Speaking of her title as Protector, it's self appointed but comes with a ton of self-imposed expectations. She's a bundle of anxiety and fear and worry that something will happen to her siblings, her sort-of friends, and Dirtmouth. Honestly, you should go read "Etching of Storms Weathered" on ao3, it's perfect and beautiful

She hates how much she resembles the Pale King and not Herrah. She doesn't think highly of her appearance. She thinks herself kinda ugly tbh. Hornet tries not to let it bother her, but she's just as susceptible to self esteem issues

Hornet honestly thought that Tiso and Cloth were going to die. She treated them kinda poorly because of it, not wanting to bother getting attached to "fools with a death wish who regret their decision". Something she regrets, but isn't sure how to apologize.

Quirrel:

He came very, very close to just walking into the Blue Lake. He doesn't like talking about it.

As much as he loves the Archive, sometimes he has a hard time dealing with just...all of his coworkers and Teacher being dead. Sometimes he'll find bits and pieces written by Monomon, and it's always a little rough.

His amnesia is not fun to deal with. A good chunk of his life is just...not there. He's surprised when his age catches up to him, because he doesn't feel it until it happens

Hornet was too young to remember, but Quirrel does remember what the Kingdom looked like in its heyday, and it depresses him. He knows it was flawed and broken, but the memories always look better in his mind.

Tiso:

Phantom pains :))))) on bad days he can't even get out of bed. The brooding mawlek crushed all of him, but especially his left side. Some days it still feels like he can't breath right

He genuinely does not understand why Ghost saved him, and it kind of eats at him. Tiso was kind of a total dick, and he doesn't understand what Ghost saw in him.

Part of him is a little afraid to make new friends, after the death of his first ever friend (the one who he turned into a shield). He tries to push bugs away by being an asshole.

MAJOR inferiority complex. He wants to make a name for himself and stand above the crowd so so bad. He wants to be more than just 'a worker ant', and its why he went to the colosseum.

Cloth:

Phantom pains 2!!!!!!! Being literally skewered and all. On bad days she might literally cough up blood

She was 100% ready to die to Traitor Lord. However very close to the end she realized that would leave Ghost all alone, and she didn't want that. (Of course by the time she came to this conclusion, she got stabbed)

She misses Nola terribly. So much so she was willing to die to see her. Sometimes, when things are rough mentally, Cloth honestly considers it again...if only for a moment.

Hollow:

PHANTOM PAIN 3!!!!! Hollow was so monumentally fucked by their time in the Temple and with the Radiance. Vessels are sturdy, but it took Hollow nearly a month to recover even slightly. Hollow had a terrible crack in their mask (leaving them blind in their right eye), they were missing an arm, and a good portion of their abdomen had been caved in.

Hollow struggles with...a lot. Mentally. The lie they had to swallow for years about being a Pure Vessel, wanting to make their Father proud, wanting to save everyone and failing...it's a lot. And Hollow hates themself for it.

Hollow remembers Ghost as the little vessel they abandoned at the top of the Abyss...and they feel immense Guilt for it. Ghost seemingly has no hard feelings, but that only makes the guilt feel worse.

When especially upset - or when something might 'trigger' the behavior - they will instinctively revert back to how they used to act as the Pure Vessel: emotionless and needing commands to do anything. They might also fall back on old 'programming' the King gave them

[laenordeservedbetter]

For Samantha Carpenter x fem reader. (If you're doing requests, I'm not 100% sure if you are or not,please.)

Reader is Amber Freeman's half older sister (Sam Carpenter's age). Amber knows that Stu Macher is her sister's father, which she is jealous of. So after attacking Tara and luring Sam back to Woodsboro, Amber attacks Reader at Ambers and rs house. (Sam and Reader dated before Sam left, and once they've all moved to NYC, they get back together. R is also a little reliant on alcohol and weed after everything that happened.)

Holding On To You

Words: 3.3k (I think)

Relationships: Samantha Carpenter x Fem!Reader, Sibling!Amber Freeman x Fem!Reader, Implied/Referenced Tara Carpenter x Amber Freeman, Chad Meeks-Martin x Tara Carpenter, Mindy Meeks-Martin x Anika Kayoko

I wrote this this fic in bits, so the timeline is kinda jumbled. I only arranged which part should go where when I finished writing and decided to imply Tamber last minute because why not? Also, Amber's dad raised r as his own, which is why r refers to them as her parents.

The ' * * *' means a long period of time has passed.

Warnings: (18+) this is definitely not my best work, poorly written fight scene, angst, violence, cussing, grief, suggestive themes, reader has problems with alcohol. lmk if I missed any! (I don't remember if the core four were drinking alcohol in Sam and Tara's apartment, so I put something else here)

A/N: I didn't intend for half the fic to focus on reader's dynamic with Amber, but I felt like it's important to show how torn she is by how she feels with what happened. Sorry if I made it too angsty and not what you (anon) asked for 😭

not my gif. || masterlist || previous work

-

Your phone buzzed at the same time you were about to go up the stairway leading to your room. Determining that whoever is texting you is more important than sleep, you unlock the cellular device to read the message.

(1:49 a.m.)

Amber: Tara was attacked.

Three words. Fifteen letters.

Your body turns stiff as if there was a supernatural force compelling you to stay still. Tara was attacked. The first thought that went to your mind was ‘is she okay?’ but for some reason you can’t explain, your fingers typed in different words.

(1:50 a.m.)

You: Does Sam know?

Is Tara in the hospital?

How is she?

(1:51 a.m.)

Amber: Such dumb questions. What you should be asking yourself is ‘who’s next?’

Your brows furrow and you frown. She shouldn’t be saying that, you thought. Amber was peculiar but if there was one thing you were sure she’s best at, it was being there for Tara - protecting her. The person on the other side of the screen that you’re talking to feels different from the Amber you know. Something is off.

(1:55 a.m.)

You: Don’t say shit like that, Amber. Tara got hurt. This is serious.

(1:55 a.m.)

Amber: Oh, this isn’t Amber.

(1:56 a.m.)

You: Then who are you?

(1:56 a.m.)

Amber: You’ll find out soon enough.

The chances of being given ample interval to question the sender of the text who is definitely not Amber reduces to zero the second a masked figure creeps behind you and slashes your arm. “What the fuck?!” Blood trickles down your skin, the wound deep enough to nearly make you see your bones. You have to look away from your own body or else you might collapse from the mere sight of it.

You’re panting, looking into the mask of your attacker. He tilts his head at you tauntingly. “And here I thought that the daughter of Stu Macher would put up more of a fight.”

You don’t react, but you run for the kitchen, grabbing the first breakable object you can find: the floral vase.

When Ghostface attempts to lunge forward, you aim the vase at his head, but he dodges swiftly, leaving the vase to smash against the newly-painted wall. You grimace. Your parents were gonna kill you the moment they decide to hop on their plane and get home. “They’re going to be so mad at me.” You complain while grabbing a kitchen knife.

This will do.

“What are you planning to do with that knife?” Ghostface wonders mockingly.

You make a face at him, “No more talking.”

And just like that, you got into a knife fight. You manage to stab Ghostface in the abdomen. He rolls over, his hand going over his stomach to assess the damage. Smiling triumphantly, you let your guard down, which proved to be an error of yours as Ghostface recovers enough to dig his knife near your chest. You drop your weapon, feeling your eyes flutter shut. Your attacker slowly removes his mask, shocking you, yet it was like the time you fade out of consciousness was also planned since you pass out way before you can see what he looks like.

* * *

“We’re waiting for you downstairs.”

You stop what you were doing to look up at Tara. She sends you a sympathetic look and you shoot her one back. “I’ll finish up in 5 minutes.” You say, motioning to the clothes that are yet to be packed into your suitcase.

“Okay.” Tara’s attention is drawn to the picture frame on the nightstand. It was of you and Amber when you were children. She was wearing a pirate costume while you wore a witch’s. “Are you bringing that with you?”

“Yes.” You reply, taking the frame in your hands, fingers ghosting over the photograph. “It was one of our happiest memories together. She was such a sweet kid. I’d like to remember her that way instead of…” You trail off, taking a sharp intake of breath. A month has passed since your sister attacked you and murdered people. You’d never know why she did it nor do you want to. Some things are better left unsaid. Tara, however, felt the opposite. She knew Amber differently and you can understand how she feels, to an extent. “You can keep it if you want. I have other photos in this room stored somewhere.”

Even though Tara shakes her head ‘no’, she is appreciative. “No, it’s fine. I have pictures of my own too.”

The two of you bask in the silence. No other words needed to be shared. Tara leaves you alone after that, but the space she formerly occupied isn’t left empty for long when Sam appears by the doorway.

You grin when you see her, “Hi.” It’s the first time in days that you managed to smile authentically. Going through the worst thing imaginable can dim someone’s light and you were in no position to pretend that everything was okay when circumstances proved the opposite. Although it pained you to think about that night, seeing Sam made you feel that you weren’t alone.

“Hey.” She replies. “Ready to go?”

“Most definitely.” You answer with the truth as you zip up your last bag, ready to leave this place behind and start anew.

Sam holds out her hand, “Come on.”

You don’t take one last look back. You’d be lying if you said you would miss this house. Everything direful that happened in Woodsboro began here, so it is fitting that this is also where it should end.

Or at least, that’s what you thought.

* * *

The bottle in your hand weighs lighter than your grief. That’s what you keep telling yourself during these types of moments. It’s a remedy. Ephemeral, maybe, but it helps you forget. That’s the one thing you could ask for.

You nurse your wounds at a bar stool. The time is a bit early for a Saturday for you to be drinking, just how you like it. You take a sip, then another, and another, making you finish your drink earlier than you’d like. “Fucking hell.” A new bottle slides over in front of you before you can ask the bartender for one more drink. Turning your attention to your side, you note a woman staring right at you, a sly smirk on her lips.

Once you give her a nod as a ‘thank you’ for the booze, you go back to the bottle, indicating you want to be left alone. Unfortunately for you, the woman does not take the hint. She moves to the stool next to yours, hoping to shoot her shot.

“Hey.” She says, her bright blue eyes shining in the dim light of the bar. Although you cannot deny that she’s attractive, you’d rather be gazing into a different pair of eyes, preferably brown ones on the face of the only girl you’ve ever loved. “I’m Jolene.”

“Hi, Jolene.” Putting down the bottle, you purse your lips, hoping that this exchange would end soon. You tense when Jolene places a hand on your right shoulder.

Jolene chuckles, unbothered by the signs that you were uneasy, “You’re a little tense.” She pauses, gauging your reaction, “I can help you relax.”

“Look, I appreciate the offer, but, uh. . . I’m kind of waiting for someone, so if you don’t mind. . .” You pull your arm away, pretending to look at the entrance to the bar as if you were meeting one of your friends. Truthfully, it should be a lost cause since you haven’t told anybody that you would be here, including Sam.

“Well, let me keep you company while they arrive.”

You internally groan. “Respectfully, Jolene, and I mean this in the nicest way possible since you seem like a good person, leave me alone.”

“Are you sure?”

“A hundred percent.”

Jolene smiles understandingly, about to get up and turn away, but then her mouth drops open as if she’s seen a movie star, “Wait, you’re one of the survivors of the murders at that one house in Woodsboro! Your sister tried to kill you and your biological father was a killer too, right?! Stu Macher, that’s what his name was.”

Of course. That’s why she approached you. She only pretended not to know who you were until you tried to convince her to piss off. Great. “Bye now.” You throw a fifty dollar bill on the counter, hastily running out of the place as if you were brought back to those nights spent in that house trying so desperately to get away. The feeling of tightness takes place in your chest. You see a stranger pass by with hair that looks exactly like Amber’s and you turn lugubrious. No matter what she did, she was still your sister. You want to hate her for everything she did to you, to Tara, to everyone you thought she cared for. However, missing her triumphs all the other emotions you have. Though that may not be an excuse for her wrongdoings, it makes you mourn what has and what would have been.

You wanted her to go to college. You wanted to be the one on the front row cheering her on as she accepts her diploma. You wanted to be the person she turns to for relationship advice. You would have wanted her there when both you and Sam began getting harassed online just because your fathers were serial killers. Amber would have fought anyone who attempted to cross a line. Sometimes it felt like she was your big sister even though you are technically older.

And then it hits you.

You’d always be stuck in that goddamn stupid, cursed house, persistently wishing that things had been different. That you hadn’t moved there, that your sister never met Richie, that you have the same biological father as Amber. Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, you realized that maybe you never left the place at all. You are in New York (You’re not deluded. You know that much.), but a piece of your heart would eternally be in Stu Macher’s house with Amber at the doorway while the other half is chasing after a love that might never be.

* * *

Sam drops by in your shared room to ask what you want for dinner. On Saturdays when neither of you are working, you and Sam order food and watch a movie that is preferably a romcom or fantasy. The unspoken rule being: watching horror is out of the equation.

She notices your swollen eyes and discards her phone on the table to comfort you. Sam climbs into your bed, arms circling around your waist in order to ground you. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

You don’t speak, fearing that your voice might crack and that it might show that you are as weak as you think you are.

But of course, Sam notices. “I know you don’t want to talk right now, so I’ll just hold onto you. If or when you want to talk, you can squeeze my hand. Is that okay?”

You shake your head in affirmation, locking your fingers with Sam’s, granting yourself the permission to crumble in her arms.

Once your heartbeat slows to a calm rhythm and the heartache subsides to a low wave that stays at your feet, you squeeze her hand three times.

“I’m listening.” Sam says, sensing your hesitance. Understanding where your diffidence comes from (she sees it in herself too), she adds, “I won’t judge you. I’m here to listen and if you want advice, I’ll try to give one. If you don’t want me to say anything, that’s fine too. Whatever works best for you.”

She is giving you the space to feel. Not a lot of people can say that and still stay after you’ve poured your heart out. Sam is different from most people because she cares. You are each other’s anchor. That’s why it doesn't take much convincing for you speak of your feelings bit by bit without worrying about falling into a rabbit hole. Knowing that Sam is there with you, listening, holding your hand, is more than enough motivation to keep going.

“. . . Sam, is it wrong? To miss Amber? The whole world tells me what she is. A murderer. But I- I saw it in her eyes that night at the party. Hesitation. Remorse. She told me that she was jealous that I got to be the one whose father was a serial killer but when she pointed the gun at my head, I saw something else flicker in her eyes. I don’t know. It’s probably just my brain making things up to make me feel better. Maybe I should just accept that my sister was a killer and move on. I shouldn’t even be feeling like this when I know she murdered people in cold blood — people I used to know. Am I crazy?” Once you started talking, you couldn’t stop. It was like you’ve been bottling this up to release it at the right moment. The memories of that night resurfaced in the forefront of your mind, acknowledging them for the first time. By now, you were laying on your back while Sam had an arm wrapped around your shoulder and the other still on your waist. For less than a minute, you were scared that she would push you away in a literal sense.

She didn’t.

“It’s not wrong, Y/n. She was your sister, of course you have the right to miss her. Now, I still don’t understand her motive and I won’t try to because she hurt Tara and you. But you knew her better than me or the people calling her names. You knew the kid that she was. You know what’s real. You are allowed to have your own opinion of Amber even if it isn’t what others want you to think. You’re not crazy for feeling these things. I’d be scared if you didn’t feel anything at all. It’s normal. You’re human. Don’t be too hard on yourself because of something you can’t control.” Sam says, soft but stern.

You take this opportunity to gaze into her eyes, seeing reverence, sympathy, and devotion all in one. She took the parts of yourself that you hated and treated them as if they were something sacred. When you have a person like that in your life - one who helps you accept your flaws instead of turning them away -, you start to see flowers bloom in the pieces you considered damaged. She loved the things about you that you execrated.

Before Sam, you gave love a definition: it is a thing that enfeebles you - yet that’s not all that there is to it. Love can be a chain, it can be suffocating, and there is no doubt that it can shatter you until the only thing you have left is a piece of a broken mirror to prove that it existed; but it can also be a tune (like the song you sung as a kid that you never paid much thought to), a soft bed, a dance, or a simple look a person gives that sends your heart fluttering no matter how many times you have been on the receiving end of it.

“Sam?” You call out, realizing that you’ve spent a while not responding.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for listening,” You say quietly. “and for not becoming a stranger.”

She smiles gently.

Your heart flutters.

* * *

Tara lets out a deep breath. She’s laying down with a novel in her hand that became abandoned three minutes ago, her attention now focused on glaring at you and Sam from her position on the couch. “Just get back together already. I’m so tired of watching you two tiptoe around each other with your unresolved feelings!” She yells, roughly flipping a page of the book in order to prove her annoyance. Sam, who was currently on dish duty, dropped a plate upon hearing Tara’s comment. (It didn’t break, fortunately.)

“Are you talking about the book or…?” Of course, Chad would be the one to make the situation far more awkward than it needs to be. You don’t hate the kid, but he does get oblivious at times, which you normally wouldn’t mind if it doesn’t affect you. Mindy punches him in the shoulder. His mouth gapes. He looks at you, then at Sam. “Ohhhh.”

“Idiot.” Mindy mumbles.

“I agree with Tara though.” Anika comments, pointing her apple drink at Tara. (You and Sam don’t allow the kids to drink at the apartment, so the only beverages available are apple and orange juice boxes.)

“Me too, babe.” Mindy beams proudly as if Anika gave the answer to an unsolvable mathematical equation and gives her girlfriend a peck on the lips.

Chad makes gagging noises, averting his eyes away from the couple.

You see the scene unfold in front of you with a smile before you turn away to take the popcorn out of the microwave. “I think we’re driving Tara crazy with the suspense.” You joke, transferring the popcorn to a bowl and placing another bag inside the microwave. Sam shoots you a questioning glance, referring to the amount of popcorn bags that were already cooked. “I was thinking that each couple would have a bag or bowl each. Mindy and Anika, Chad and Tara. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to share with me, which is why I put another-”

Sam takes out the uncooked popcorn from the microwave, interrupting what would have been your rambling, “Of course I’d share with you. You’re my girlfriend.”

You look away, unable to keep a smile off your face. “I will never get tired of hearing that.” As you busy yourself with placing the popcorn on three separate bowls, Sam observes the group on the living room.

“I think we should tell them.”

“Huh?”

“About us. It’s time, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” You take Sam’s hands in your own, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m ready.” You look at her lovingly. “How should we do it?”

Sam sports a mischievous smirk, “I know just the right way.” She ‘accidentally’ drops another plate (which, amazingly, didn’t break as well), drawing the attention of Tara, Chad, Mindy, and Anika. She gives you the go signal and you kiss her, bringing your bodies closer.

“TARA, SOMETHING’S HAPPENING IN THE KITCHEN!”

“WHAT ARE YOU- OH MY GOD!” Tara exclaims.

“CHAD, GIVE ME THE CAMERA!” Anika flails her arms chaotically for Chad’s phone, instantly snapping pictures of you and Sam the moment the device is handed to her.

Chad grins, giving you a thumbs up.

When you pull away from Sam for air, Tara runs up to you with questions at the ready. Sam did most of the talking. You added a few things here and there, looking back at how far you’ve come. The grief never went away. It’s still lingering. Except this time, you don’t feel the panic. You focus on the memories - the good and the bad. Those things are the reason why you’re where you're at right now. Although you’d have liked some of it to turn out differently, you can’t change the past, hence why you don’t shy away from what happened as much as you used to. You hold on to the memories the way you’d want to hold on to the love of your life.

“You okay?” Sam asks, rubbing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You realize that you’ve been crying. “Yeah, they’re happy tears. It’s just. . .” You breathe out, feeling the weight of hopelessness on your shoulders disappear.

It felt like finally coming home after a long journey.

[evillex11]

I often like to show my appreciation of jjk through the characters and how they're written but one of the things that appealed to me is the existence of a system that ultimately fucks or fucked the characters over and how important it is to know that bc it's essential to the plot + something we should pay attention to in real life

people like to put the blame on individuals for how things ended up like “if yuki hadn't talked to geto” “if toji didn't kill riko” and even “if yaga did something as a teacher”???? 1. geto was already spiraling before yuki said anything and he would've come to the same/similar conclusion sooner or later because .. the system 2. toji was abus3d and casted away by the zen'in clan and while it's mamaguro's death (which we dk the cause of) that flipped him, geto still would've seen the ugliness of the world—the treatment of sorcerers by nonsorcs and the higher ups—because.. the system!! 3. what could yaga have done? he would've been killed too because... the system!!

almost all the tragedies we know of, big or small, can be traced back to it.. and said tragedies would've happened in one way or another because they're all under it's fucked up control!! it was bound to happen with the way they operated.... someone would've eventually seen how messed up it is and (try to at least) do something about it.

if it weren't for the characters who defy the higher ups, the cycle of treating sorcerers poorly and losing valuable sorcerers would continue until what? they all just die without even reaching a quarter of their life. like if yuta was executed as the higher ups intended, that would've been a special grade sorcerer (that is a kid btw!!) they just lost... a door of potential they just closed. if the sorcerers were treated more fairly (god knows how), would there have been more skilled sorcerers taking on sukuna? if gojo fought along with geto, who didn't need to leave bc^, could they have defeated sukuna without as much bloodshed?

I do think they would still eventually fight sukuna but I think it'd be much better if the higher ups were just better...

it's just so important to realize this bc it's like this irl too and it's often overlooked by the viewers.... we're screwed by the system/s we're under and while people do have power to a degree, there's so much change the “higher ups” could do so easily... and we shouldn't have to rely on individuals to try to make big changes bc we have no trust in our governments who have our lives in their hands!!

I like how this is in jjk and it's part of the reason why I like it so much,, I think I also read that gege does intend on calling a real problem out in his manga but I don't exactly remember which it is..

but yea I just think not enough people notice or talk abt this aspect of jjk .. a really good theme actually ! because it's such an important thing to know in our everyday life

[saintsenara]

Potions Master Edition: Slughorn/Snape. Was prodigiously talented Severus a Slug Club favourite, rewriting the textbook in the corner of their get-togethers? Or not, due to him being poorly connected, poorly socialised and well, poor? If not, there’s some delicious resentment baked in there. But Sluggy manages to get Sev to willingly attend a Christmas party! Add a splash of Lily to the cauldron for some extra toxicity.

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i don't ever imagine that snape was in the slug club. and partially this is for exactly the reasons you describe - slughorn obviously likes those with pretty faces and pretty manners, which snape doesn't have - but it's also because the teenage snape has no interest whatsoever in playing the game when it comes to how class functions in the wizarding world.

slughorn is evidently keen on taking on passion projects from among the group of hogwarts students who are at a disadvantage in a society which assigns such weight to name and lineage - especially if they're male, since it appears both that the trend in the wizarding world is generally for married women not to work and that it is more acceptable for a man to marry a non-pureblood woman and pass down his name than it is for a woman to marry a non-pureblood man. as we know from half-blood prince, he delights in finding little protegés he can use his connections to set up in ministry internships and then manipulate for the rest of their lives on the basis of their dependence on his patronage.

[i.e. dirk cresswell, muggleborn head of the goblin liaison office.]

we see this at play in canon in slughorn's treatment of tom riddle. but, while the teenage voldemort rejects the jobs slughorn tries to arrange for him, he does play the game while at school, simpering politely through slug club meetings and sending slughorn box after box of [presumably stolen] pineapple.

the teen snape has no such interest in doing this. while the teenage riddle we meet in chamber of secrets and half-blood prince has sanded off many of his rougher edges [the eleven-year-old riddle, for example, is written in a way which suggests he has an accent and uses words and expressions which would be understood as working class; the sixteen-year-old version does not], the snape we meet in snape's worst memory is still visibly working-class in his speech and mannerisms, and i can easily imagine this being a source of pride for him [a sort of "fuck these posh cunts who think they're better than me" vibe] while at school, especially in the way it would impact his relationship with james and sirius.

[and also the way that it would impact his relationship with lily, who does play the game. i think you can do something really interesting with snape thinking that going to the slug club, losing her accent, taking james' pureblood name etc. is her "selling out" - never realising that lily both may want to do these things, but also has to, since they're the only way she's going to survive as a muggleborn in the wizarding world.]

slughorn's going to view him as a lost cause.

but could the adult snape and the adult slughorn get together? maybe.

as you say, snape's going to harbour a huge amount of resentment against slughorn, not only for ignoring his genius when he was at school but also for doing literally nothing to prevent his radicalisation. it is impossible to imagine that people like lucius malfoy, rodolphus and rabastan lestrange, barty crouch jr., evan rosier etc. weren't slughorn's favourites - and, of course, we know regulus black was - and slughorn must have had a very good idea why they were taking an interest in someone like snape, he was just too afraid of voldemort [and of admitting to dumbledore that he'd told voldemort about horcruxes] to do anything about it.

but it's also the case that snape must be aware that slughorn has been brought back to hogwarts during half-blood prince so that he too can be a pawn in dumbledore's schemes. i think you could do something deliciously toxic with snape finding himself drawn to slughorn because of a shared sense that they're both being fucked over by dumbledore - and i think this could lead into some excellent hurt/comfort during the year in which snape's headmaster when slughorn, who must remember snape's affection for lily, begins to suspect that all is not what it seems...

but there's another potential snape/slughorn dynamic i think it's worth discussing, which comes with a trigger warning for the topic of the sexual abuse of a student by a teacher and which is under the cut.

in the films, slughorn is played as avuncular and broadly sexless - with the result that his wheeling and dealing comes across as grasping and a bit pitiable, but generally harmless.

the slughorn of the books, in contrast, is straightforwardly creepy.

he is involved in his students' private lives to an extent we see from no other teacher [his interest in harry's relationship with ginny, for example]. he socialises with students in private in ways which are abnormal within the hogwarts context - it's clearly acceptable for students to be alone in teachers' private offices for detention, but much less so for them to be called in for a glass of wine or to offer their teachers presents... he is happy to let his favourites bend the rules, but also to let them know he's doing so [lestrange and avery have clearly been allowed to be quite late with their essays - and to attend a slug club party while they're still outstanding - before slughorn finally puts his foot down]. the way his habit of "collecting" students - and the life-long influence he then goes on to assert over them - is described makes it sound exceptionally sinister, particularly since the text emphasises that many of his favourite students are also very good-looking. and he is famously willing to receive gifts in exchange for... favours.

and it is very striking that slughorn's two favourite pupils - voldemort and lily - have relationships with slughorn which differ in terms of their power dynamics than, for example, slughorn's relationship with someone like harry.

with harry - as, we can assume, with the children of rich, socially prominent, and politically influential families - slughorn is looking to bask in their reflected glow, and receive social cachet for being connected to them ["i can introduce you to harry potter", "well, of course, i know damocles belby terribly well", and so on].

with pupils who lack this social prominence, he is seeking to mould them into creatures who will do his bidding and rely on him for support [voldemort will be minister for magic in a decade "if you keep sending me pineapple"]. these pupils are made dependent on slughorn for their post-hogwarts position in the wizarding world, they are clearly expected to be grateful to him, and they are clearly expected to do things to butter him up which their posher peers are not.

they also lack the social power to risk rejecting him - i think it's very striking in half-blood prince that harry, ron, and ginny find the idea of hermione trapped in slug club meetings funny, without considering that, as a muggleborn woman, hermione needs the connections someone like slughorn can provide her even if she doesn't enjoy what she has to go through in order to make them. the same would be true for lily - at least until she married - and it would be doubly true for voldemort, who is not only presumed to be muggleborn by most people he encounters, but who lacks any sort of family support in the muggle world too.

[and voldemort refusing slughorn's job offers in his seventh year absolutely tanks their relationship - in a way which the horcrux conversation, which takes place when voldemort's in sixth year, does not. i think this is really worth thinking about both when unravelling why slughorn never becomes a death eater and when thinking about why voldemort is at borgin and burkes for a decade and has no political success until he has divorced himself from his old name and old appearance...]

snape - poor, saddled with his muggle father's name, friendless, under the radar of the rest of his teachers [james and sirius evidently get away with bullying him without any really onerous punishment], uncouth, desperate to be recognised for his talents, and so on - is an ominously plausible target to be groomed and abused by a teacher such as slughorn, who could act with impunity [relatively] safe in the knowledge that their social positions [even before we get into the power dynamic inherent between a student and a teacher] mean that snape would never be able to articulate what was happening to him and be believed...

and i talk a lot about how - when we think about how snape was radicalised into becoming a death eater - we need to recognise that voldemort appears to be the first person he ever encounters who offers him a chance at power and status which transcends the limitations of his class background. this dynamic could be made all the more potent if we imagine that voldemort is also the first person to believe him when he talks about being slughorn's victim...

and to promise him that he will offer him a chance for revenge.

[f1amboyant]

↻ pick a fic and a different ship and I’ll tell you how I’d rewrite it for: The Worst Alpha and carcar:)

✄ what’s your editing process? (i loooove hearing about people's writing and editing processes)

✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

💕💕

Hiiii, thank you for the ask 💕

-> ask me more

✄ what’s your editing process?

Interesting question! I'm gonna answer with my writing process a bit, because both are intertwined (and you said you love hearing about writing process, too 🫣)

So for short fics (under 2k I would say), I mostly write the whole thing in one or 2 sittings, with no plan, just an idea in my head. And when it's done I edit multiple times. A first reread to adjust some details here and there, make a few sentences flow better. And then I do a spelling check, with 2 different softwares because English is not my first language so I want to get it covered.

For longer fics, I plan the whole story, I plan the chapters, I plan the scenes. Then I write scene by scene, usually in order. For each scene, I first write it very badly. I write the scene, fast and bad, not caring about beautiful sentences. The idea is just to put words on the page and to block the scene (like in movies). When this part is done, I go back and I edit a first time, going over all this poorly written scene to write beautiful sentences (or as beautiful as I can do), to make it readable, basically. Then, since it's a long fic and that some ideas might have pop up in the middle of nothing, I do one or 2 full reread, to adjust everything, make sure everything is coherent, make sure the character doesn't realise he is in love 3 times in 3 different chapters, go back to foreshadow an idea that popped in a later chapter, things like that. And then I can do a spell check on each chapter and that's it! ✨

✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

Easiest: Corset ~ The words just flew out of me, and it greatly helped that @moossings worked on their drawing at the same time as I wrote, so I just had to put their sketches into words and that was so much fun.

Hardest: Steal your art (and your heart) ~ The first chapters were so much fun and so easy to write, I wasn't prepared for the enormous block that fell on me halfway through it. Writing the last chapters was so so hard, for no particular reason. I was lucky I had my dear @drspleenmeister writing with me 🫶

↻ pick a fic and a different ship and I’ll tell you how I’d rewrite it for: The Worst Alpha and carcar:)

Oooooooh, that's an interesting one. The Worst Alpha is omagaverse charlos, with alpha Charles experiencing omega Carlos' heat for the first time and having a whole crisis about if he is or not a good alpha. And truly, I think Oscar would fit that role pretty well too.

Oscar is an Alpha who grew with omega sisters. He knows what it is to be an omega. In theory. But he's never been with an omega. So it's all pretty new. And also, he has this massive crush on Carlos, because damn, have you seen that man?? Oscar was doomed from the start. But he's trying to act like a good alpha and not get overbearing with the omega he fancies, so he stays mostly away.

Then Lando shenanigans, probably. Maybe Lando does it on purpose or maybe not, but it makes Carlos and Oscar meet. Maybe, Carlos is in heat, and he usually goes to omega Lando for comfort during his heat but Lando isn't answering. And when Carlos goes to Lando's room, he finds Oscar there because Oscar is waiting for Lando to return too (maybe Lando asked him over and then forgot, or something like that).

It hits Oscar. The smell. Powerful. And so so sweet. Mouthwatering. Oscar is losing his fucking mind.

"Oh sorry, I thought this was Lando's room."

"You're in heat."

"Pff, this guy," Carlos huffs. "I know, that's why I'm looking for Lando."

"He's not here," Oscar answers unhelpfully, but his brain is completely fried. There's Carlos in the room with him. Carlos in heat. Oscar is gonna die.

"Well, tell him to call me if you see him."

Carlos starts to leave but Oscar stops him.

"Do you need help? With your heat? Until Lando comes back," Oscar offers.

"Sure." Carlos has never been with an Alpha before but this one smells pretty nice and also, he is tired of waiting for Lando, so why not? He's not afraid of a little Alpha rookie.

So they spend a little time together, in Lando's room. It's awkward as fuck. Carlos borrows a hoodie from Lando and sits on the couch, to play some game. Oscar stays with him and offers to help, getting him heat supplies that he steals from Lando (he doesn't care). He doesn't really know what to do, how to feel. It's never been like that in his family. Oscar is a pretty decent Alpha, but he never had to fight the urge to bend this Omega in half and fuck him senseless. But yeah, that's what's happening now. He is losing his mind.

He keeps his wit enough to half ass taking care of Carlos until Lando comes back and saves them from the awkwardness. Except after that Oscar can't stop thinking about it, can't stop thinking about Carlos. If he had a crush before, this gets to another level entirely because now, he knows what Carlos in heat smells like and it's too much for him. Too much to stay away. So he tries to get close, to court him very awkwardly (and never saying officially it is courting). And maybe in his quest to get closer to Carlos, he also crashes with him on track a little too much (oops 🤭).

They're not exactly becoming friends but they're getting closer. And Carlos isn't entirely immune to this awkward Alpha who's courting him, without courting him. It's cute. And he likes him more and more.

So his next heat, he doesn't go to Lando, he goes to see Oscar (Oscar once again losing his fucking mind as he refrains all instincts to fuck/mate/breed with the beautiful Omega). And again and again. They spend more time together, spending heats together. But nothing happens. They just cuddle a little, play games. They talk too, getting to know each other.

Until Carlos says he would like to try spending his heat having sex, because it can be fun and a very good time (Oscar definitely loses his mind at that). They almost kiss already, just talking about it, grinding against each other (Oscar is losing his mind, definitely). They agree to have sex next heat.

Next heat comes. Oscar is beyond excited, he cannot wait to be with Carlos again. But he sees Carlos with another Alpha (Charles, or Max, maybe). And the two are not flirting exactly, but they are not keeping their distance either. And with Carlos being in pre-heat, this could really be courting.

Oscar is devastated. He thought he was a good Alpha, but apparently he's the worst because Carlos is choosing someone else, and why wouldn't he choose someone else. So Oscar spirals out of him mind, while Carlos' heat hits and it's way stronger than before and without Oscar there to help him, Carlos is losing his mind too but for a whole other reason.

So a little bit of misunderstanding, and an intervention from Lando before they finally get together and it's all better, it's all okay. And their first time is awkward as fuck but so hot and Oscar is the worst Alpha but he doesn't care because apparently, Carlos loves it (him).

[trashywritestrash]

I loved your singer-songwriterStark!reader "Brutal" and I've been obsessed with "bad idea right?" by Oliva Rodrigo and was wondering if you could do another singer-songwriterStark!reader but with that song? :))

hi!! im sorry it took me so long to get to this, i honestly didn’t know it was in my inbox. but when i saw this request i was thrown for a loop (not in a bad way!!)— i kinda hated that fic and i’ve been thinking about just taking it down, but this request made me feel better about it, so thank you 💗 sorry for the wait

bad idea right?

Pairing: Avengers x Singer-Songwriter!Stark!Reader (platonic/family)

Word Count: didn’t count yet

Warnings: swearing, implied sexual relations, 18+ cuz i said so, song lyrics, probably poorly written but don’t come at me pls, no editing. i’ll maybe come back to it in the morning

A/N: Based on the song “bad idea right?” by Olivia Rodrigo. Also, reader is 21+ and I am not naming who the “bad idea” ex is lmao

gif by redherren

“Okay, I think we’re ready for the next one,” Clint says, causing the others to nod. “Hit us with it!”

You laugh, pulling up your music app. “Okay, okay. Here we go…”

Knowing what the next track is, you’re not sure if they are ready for it. What you do know is that they’re going to ask lots of questions that you can’t answer. You can warn Steve though. “This one is another punk one.” He nods. Take a deep breath, hit play.

Haven’t heard from you in a couple of months

But I’m out right now, and I’m all fucked up

And you’re callin’ my phone, you’re all alone

And I’m sensin’ some undertones

The speed throws some of them off, it takes them a moment to catch up with the lyrics. Looks of realization cross their faces at different times… Steve and Bucky seem to be taking the longest. Your dad raises his hand, and you ignore it.

And I’m right here with all my friends

But you’re sendin’ me your new address

And I know we’re done, I know we’re through

But, God, when I look at you

Now you pause the music. Tony’s already staring at you. “Who is this about?”

“I can’t tell you that.” You try to hold back a smirk, but the looks on their faces are just too good. “I’m not about to risk his safety by outing him.”

Natasha speaks up next. “Do we know him?”

“I am not confirming or denying that.”

“Oh my God, that means we know him!” Wanda shouts, and you know she’s trying to recall every guy your age she’s ever seen you interact with.

You chuckle at them, shaking your head. “Okay, I’m hitting play now.”

My brain goes “Ah”

Can’t hear my thoughts (I cannot hear my thoughts)

Like blah-blah-blah

(blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah)

Should probably not

I should probably, probably not

I should probably, probably not

Finally, it looks like Steve and Bucky are starting to put things together.

Seeing you tonight, it’s a bad idea, right?

Seeing you tonight, it’s a bad idea, right?

Seeing you tonight, it’s a bad idea, right?

Seeing you tonight, fuck it, it’s fine

Yes, I know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect?

I only see him as a friend, the biggest lie I ever said

Oh, yes, I know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect?

I only see him as a friend, I just tripped and fell into his bed

You know you need to pause when Tony stands up. “Okay, now I need a name. If you don’t give me a name, I’m going to use FRIDAY.”

Clint just looks confused. “Wait, you have an ex? I didn’t know you ever dated anyone.”

“Did you think I’ve just been single my whole life?” You tilt your head a bit as you ask Clint, trying not to laugh at his comment.

“Honestly? Yes.” Natasha smacks his arm when he says that, giving you a knowing look. Wait, does she actually know who you wrote this about? Shit.

“Dad, don’t use FRIDAY please. I’ll tell you, but not right now. I’m still recording and I don’t want the whole internet to find out too.” He agrees and sits back down, but you can tell that he’s uncomfortable. You decide to put your foot down before any more music gets played.

“Okay, I love you guys, but you have to realize that I’m an adult. I’ve made decisions— not all of them were good, but they were my choices. I’ve been on dates, I have multiple exes. Some of those relationships ended on good terms, and other’s didn’t. I’m sorry you’re not happy learning about it this way, but I’m not sorry for living my life. If you seriously have a problem with it, we’ll stop here.”

You try to stay calm and assertive as you speak, but there’s a waver in your voice that everyone catches. Blood, sweat, and tears were put into these songs, and all you wanted to do was share them with the people important to you.

Sam sighs, being the first to respond. “We’re sorry, kid. It’s just… shit, we just feel guilty for not knowing and not helping you.”

“I didn’t need your help though.” You look at them all, eyes flicking from person to person. “Whenever something happened that I felt like I couldn’t handle on my own, I reached out. I got help from you guys when I needed it… But I dealt with a lot of stuff on my own, because I knew I could. I didn’t need everyone in the tower losing it over my first breakup, and I didn’t need anyone hunting down my ex for my last one. Now… are we continuing, or do you guys want to process these songs on your own?”

Everyone looks around. After a moment, your dad turns to you and nods, sitting back in his chair. Without saying anything else, you hit play.

The rest of the song goes well. Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper take in the meaning of the lyrics with more grace than the others do. Natasha even huffs out a laugh at:

I’m sure I’ve seen much hotter men

But I really can’t remember when

Once the outro finishes, you stop the music before the next song can begin. You hold your breath as you wait for comments.

“You can stop clutching your pearls now, Tony.” Pepper lightly swats him, bringing him out of whatever daze he was in.

Your dad turns to Pepper with his jaw dropped. “Wait— did you know?!”

Pepper just looks to you and laughs, causing you to grin too. “Of course I did. You know how a first breakup is; it’s hard and you feel like the world is ending. She begged me not to tell you, so I didn’t. After that, she was older and responsible enough to make her own decisions.” She smiles at you fondly.

Tony looks flabbergasted at the idea that she would ever keep something like this from him. Meanwhile, Natasha raises her hand. “I knew too. But not because she told me. I wasn’t supposed to know.”

Your eyes widen. “Please don’t name anyone.”

She laughs, but you can tell it’s not directed at you. It’s the betrayed faces that she finds hilarious. “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.” Natasha winks, and you believe her.

“I can too. Sorry, I accidentally found out while training with my powers. I promise I didn’t tell anyone though.” Wanda looks to you, using her eyes to ask for forgiveness.

You smile at her. “It’s okay, I trust you.” Her face softens and she smiles back, clearly relieved to have that weight off of her shoulders.

Standing up, you turn off the camera that has been recording their reactions. “I think that was enough of this thing.” The others start to argue, but you hold up a hand. “Let’s be honest, this song was rough. It’s going to get worse, much worse… I don’t want a camera recording for that.”

“Maybe it’s not a bad idea for us to listen to the album on our own?” Steve pitches to the group. “Everyone processes things differently and in their own time. This way, we can be in our own spaces and can individually take however much time we need. Okay?”

You nod. “I agree with Steve. I’ll still be here for questions or you can call me to come talk to you. But I think it’ll be better this way.”

Reluctantly, everyone stands and finds a place they feel comfortable in so they can absorb your music at their pace. Your dad looks to you with sad eyes. “How much is this going to hurt me?”

“Take tissues to the lab with you.”

“Fuck.”

[goddesspharo]

GIRL. WHY WAS SHE BACK IN JAVI'S CAR LIKE, OH HE SUDDENLY IS OK WITH NO FINANCIAL BACKING? HOW DID HE BACK OUT OF WHAT I ASSUME WERE BINDING NON-COMPETE CONTRACTS? WHY WOULD SHE GO BACK TO THE DUDE WHO UNLOADED HIS OWN TRAUMA ONTO HER?! AKA SHE SHOULD HAVE JOINED THE WRANGLERS AND GOTTEN THEM FUNDING TO DO EXPERIMENTS AND HELP PEOPLE, HELP SOS ENDING NEEDS FIXING.

I think the ending during the Twisters credits basically implies that Kate secured independent funding (hence going back to NY with a pitch that Javi tried to mansplain to her right before she left to catch her flight) so they could dump the opportunistic team to legitimize the wrangler youtube channel with Sally Draper's diaper science, but where DOES Javi fit in? What does he bring to the wrangler team or Kate at this point? I'm sure the proprietary military tech that he inexplicably gave to Storm Par without getting court-martialed belongs to them now so Javi's just...gonna eat Takis and watch more people die from the distance, I guess? (I don't even dislike Javi, I just think he's so poorly written!) I guess we're supposed to infer that Javi wanted this tornado technology to work because all his friends died, but the dude also could not figure out why Kate was having a trauma response to tornadoes after she watched three people die in front of her while he was twenty miles away doing fuck all at the beginning??? It's extremely annoying writing because his motivations do not align with literally anything he does for the remainder of the movie; at no point does it make sense for him to be fine screwing over tornado victims. Honestly, I'm mad that Spielberg didn't ask Chung to release the Javi is a sociopath cut (that would've actually been an amazing movie) because maybe HE was the true spiritual successor to Cary Elwes in the original. Give me the friggin' Taking Lives twist!

All of this falls to the wayside, however, because you're too busy being BAFFLED by that airport scene. Did Lee Isaac Chung show Spielberg THE DAILIES because I'm sure then Spielberg would be like, "Hold up, the only thing with equal screen time to inexplicable character motivations for tornado science is you plugging this romance and thus it makes absolutely no sense that at the very last second you do a VAR check and decide that the two hour lead up didn't count and they shouldn't kiss." When Steven Spielberg cut the kiss between Alan Grant and Ellie Sattler in Jurassic Park, it didn't feel like they added the ending to a different movie in the last five minutes because the entire goddamn thing was not working towards that! (Except in our hearts, I guess. But still secondary to DINOSAURS and CHAOS!) His editor knew how not to fuck around!

[thephantomcasebook]

Aemond wasn't Daeron in season 1, not even close🙄 Daeron was even mentioned by AEMOND in the script where Aemond was softened already. He was even more soft as a child but they cut several scenes. They turned him into a 'smart' character just so he would think he is better than his brother for his future betrayal.

Oh my God, you Aemond fangirls have got to stop perpetuating this self-aggrandizing myth that Show!Aemond is close to Book!Aemond and was always this way.

He's not.

Tween Aemond in the show, you could definitely make that argument, because, the book doesn't really get into detail about his character as a child, yeah?

But once you get to Ewan Mitchell's Aemond, that ain't Aemond, that's Daeron pretending to be Aemond. And don't get me wrong, Ewan Mitchell does the best of anyone playing that character, but that is far from being Aemond as he was written in the book.

Aemond is boisterous, brash, and everything is do or die. He doesn't think things through but his boldness and will to act puts him over the top every time. He is Aegon's enforcer, and he relishes the job of it. Aemond and Aegon are alike in their thinking and instincts, except that Aemond is bolder and more fearless than Aegon is because Aemond doesn't give a fuck about what other people think of him or what he does. He protects his family, but he's in it to win it, no matter what.

In the book Aegon and Aemond are a lot closer and are on the same page on most things.

Daeron is a analytical, hyper-intelligent, brooding figure, who is sullen and quiet. Daeron is the one that is very close to Alicent and who learns at the feet of Criston Cole. People forget, Daeron did not spend a ton of time in Oldtown in the book. He was there with Otto for 2-3 years max before Alicent and Criston recalled him to King's Landing for the next eight years after Aemond lost his eye. In that time Daeron is a squire but the book doesn't specify whose, but we can assume that it's Criston.

Other people as well as I have it on good authority that Spotchnik did not want Daeron in the show, period. He was too popular, too well developed from GRRM's earlier drafts - which have magically disappeared since HOTD was announced - and he was too heroic and noble. The excerpt of Aemond mentioning Daeron in 1x07's script is a draft, not the shooting script. It was something that was taken out by Spotchnik. GRRM fought for Daeron being included the entire time and they would not pull the trigger till Spotchnik got fired and then they raced to add him in the Team Green bloodline thing. Which is why he's right under Alicent's dial and has no markers of his own on that dial.

Script Drafts are not canon, they're ideas that were never realized. It didn't matter if they made Tween Aemond the softest boy on the planet, if its not on screen, it didn't happen. Same thing with the Daeron mention. For all you know they added that shit to make GRRM shut up and get off their back.

Show!Aemond is 1000% Daeron in Aemond cosplay, with the writers combining the two characters together with the plan of not adding Daeron into the show because he fucks with their socio-political bullshit they were pushing.

No one is telling you that you cannot like Show!Aemond and no one is saying that what Ewan Mitchell is doing is anything less than spectacular with the character. But you Aemond Wives need to let go of this delusion that Show!Aemond is anything like Book!Aemond, cause he's not.

Season 1 show!Aemond is just Daeron from the books with characters telling us - not showing us - that Aemond is like his book counterpart without any evidence to back it up.

I don't hate Aemond, he's in the top 3 of my favorite characters on the show behind Alicent and Criston. But don't get it twisted. He's just Daeron from the books that they had to fix - poorly - because Daeron is coming.

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Round 1

Propaganda Under Cut

Chi-Chi

I think the fandom has had a turnaround on her in recent years, so the Chi-chi abuse has abated quite a bit from what I've seen, but for the longest time your standard Goku/Vegeta fic included SOME manner of sidelining her HARD, if not outright villainizing her or killing her off for convenience. Fuck, I'm guilty of it, even. I've seen meta and fics that go on and on about how she's abusive or ignorant or a bad wife or an overnearing mother or useles, and seen episodes where she's put aside as a gag, the nagging wife of Goku. Poor Chi-chi...she is so great and pure-hearted and stong-willed and yeah she's a bit of a tiger-mom and her name is a pun for tiddies but she loves her family and kicks-ass and she was done so dirty by the franchise and the fans for so long I wanna marry her.

Being a victim of yaoi is just one of the many ways Chi-Chi gets fucked over by the fandom. She also gets degraded for being a nag (wanting her family to be safe and not fight) and stopping her son from reaching his full potential (not wanting her son, who is anywhere from 5 to 11 depending, to be killed in a big alien fight). In this case, though, she gets killed off, divorced, or otherwise fucked over so her husband Goku can bang local genocidal maniac and fandom babygirl Vegeta. Bulma (who is canonically Vegeta's love interest) gets some of this too, but Chi-Chi's treatment tends to be worse since the fandom hates her already.

She's the wife of the main character Goku who is poorly written and consistently presented as a domineering nag as part of that classic sidesplitting routine. The very creator of the manga himself has admitted he hates drawing her and only kept her around as a punishment to himself. Because she's a loud woman people will shove her aside and completely ignore her to ship Goku with his rival Vegeta (which does also involve neglecting Vegeta's wife Bulma but more people at least like Bulma as a character.) She is consistently demonized by the fandom and I have even seen some go so low as to as to ignore her so they can ship Frieza, one of the biggest and most obviously evil antagonists of the franchise, with Goku.

Every Supernatural Woman

Supernatural is so mean to women and committed to queerbaiting but it still gives Sam and Dean lovers to kill. The writers kill and villainize them and the fans get the few that remain

wincest and destiel shippers cannot handle the idea of their blorbos having a Woman THREATENING their SHIPS god FORBID

It literally used to be a running joke that if a female character got introduced you knew she was going to die soon because fans would react so negatively to her "stealing" one of the boys away from the big ship, whether it be destiel or wincest