#anyway back into Repressing Stuff.
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idontwanttospoiltheparty · 10 months ago
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It is truly fascinating how the common tumblr narrative around John and Paul somehow makes the guy who literally got violent multiple times over people insinuating he was queer appear more "on board with the whole gay thing" than the guy who said some awkward/dated stuff in interviews a couple of times.
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phagodyke · 2 months ago
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the masculine urge to take a saucepan off thr draining board and bash myself repeatedly over the head with it until I pass out and no longer have to experience feeling Bad 😍
#struggling to tolerate this one ngl its fucking dire this weekend. i just cant do this man#thr things i would fucking do for attention please. just one person to notice and care in the slighest i feel like im losing my fucking#mind out here how does every single person who has ever mattered to me in my lifr see me in distress and choose to ignore it or maybe they#dont even recognise im ij distress in the first place i dont know whats worse i dont think i hide it well at all im just so done#listen like ultimately its fucking fine. i will get myself through it like ive gotten myself through everything else in my fuckijg life#i dont even feel bad that often these days im doing so so so much better and its so much more tolerable to only have to deal with this#once or twice a week instead of it being a struggle every single day like i dont think i could go back to feeling like that again ever i#dont know how i managed to get througyh it before jesus fucking christ. but i can deal with it i can deal with this#ik ill feel fine tomorrow. its just thr fact im so desperately fucking alone with it that makes it so much worse than it has to be#i fucking hate repression i hate being so incapable of expressing myself that its easier for me to injure myself than it is to talk about#how i feel to anyone i hate being trapped in this stupif fucking torture labyrinth and not knowing how to get out of it and never being#given a single avenue anything to hold onto i hate having to do it alone every single fucking time and when i do try i just freeze out#entirely i cant form a coherent thought my brain enters total fucking shutdown pure static white noise fuzz and i dont know why please#its so unfair i dont think its that much to want a little comfort. just once just for someone to stay with me while i cry it doesnt have#to be more than that i just dont want to be alone like this i just want to feel safe around someone just close to someone just once#and well ill survive without it bc i always have i guess. so far at least. and there are many things im grateful for and i do in general#feel pretty okay my life is pretty good at times even. i feel so pathetic and stupid and ashamed for even feeling like this#but do i have to go my entire life without ever experiencing any kind of real intimacy with another person emotionally that is#i mean physical is nice too and they go hand in hand in some ways but i just want to feel seen and safe over anything.im tired#i feel like i try.but not hard enough i know its all my fault really but i dont know how to try any harder but nothing will ever change if#i dont i cant expect anyone to do anything if i cant rven communicate in thr first place. oh i dont want to think about it anymore#i have a headache from crhing and its not even 8pm ugh. okay. well it is what it is.#ill breathe until i calm down and then tidy up whatever i left in the kitchen and get my work stuff ready for tmr#and polish my boots maybe. and read and go to bed at 9:30 i think. and ill feel fine in the morning#my fault for thinking about it earlier i know i shouldve nipped it earlier on its such an easy spiral to fall into i need to get better#it happens. okay anyway. no cause for concern im good guys. weakly thumbs up at the camera all covered in blood#my period is late actually thats probably all this is lmao. makes sense thinking abt it#cant wait for it to finally start and all earthly desire to leave my body so i never experience pain again amen#.vent#ignore this sorry for being mentally ill im not even that mentally ill anymore so no excuse rly ummmm. bit embarrassing innit.
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ghostie-gengar · 1 year ago
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may or may not have had this tweet in my head while designing them
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tronlightcyclerun · 4 months ago
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pros of easily splitting system : sourcemates r here
cons of easily splitting system : sourcemates r here
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happi-tree · 2 years ago
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👀 your pfp is from your fae amphibia au right? i would love to know more about it <3333
Actually, my pfp is from a different Amphibia au that I haven't talked about at all on here! I've tentatively called it "the raven and the dove" and it's roughly based on the movie (the MOVIE, not the books) The School for Good and Evil and my friend @toonteller came up with a lot of it (hi, toon, hope you don't mind the tag!). If you're at all familiar with the characters from that, Anne takes Agatha's role while Marcy takes Sophie's and Sasha takes Tedros'. You don't have to be familiar with the characters at all for the au to make sense, though!
Basically, Anne and Marcy are two girls growing up in a rural village. They've been friends since they were very small, sticking close together and facing the mean-spirited remarks of their peers together. Marcy happens to stumble across a book one day that tells her of a magical place that trains the heroes and villains of fairytale stories and becomes very determined to find it, while Anne rushes along after her because she doesn't want to lose her only friend and sincerely doubts that any good could come of this. The two of them end up getting whisked away to The School For Good and Evil, where they are promptly deposited into their respective schools - Anne into the School For Good, which trains heroes, and Marcy into the School For Evil, which trains villains. And obviously this is a huge mistake, because not only does Anne want to get back to her parents, but also Marcy cannot possibly be evil! There isn't a vindictive bone in her body! The headmaster, Andrias, tells the girls that the only way to prove Marcy's innate Goodness is a true love's kiss (because villains don't get one of those in the stories, right?). They end up causing quite a stir among the students, as they are both generally disruptive and the first to enroll from outside the fairytale realm in a long time, and the shenanigans draws the attention and disapproval of one Sasha of Camelot, heir to the throne of the Storied and the School For Good's golden child. And. Well.
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Quite a lot of chaos ensues in an attempt to get Marcy into the "proper" school and get Anne home, including but not limited to a Marcy corruption arc (and one for Anne, to a different extent), some identity/morality/sexuality crises on the part of Sasha, magic and shapeshifting, a slow dance (with evil overtones), gay archery lessons, ruminations on the societal expectations of beauty, attraction, gender roles, and morality, women covered in blood, true love's kiss(es), and LOTS of impractical fantasy costume changes. It's quite a bit of fun (and Sashannarcy endgame, obviously), even if I haven't thought about it in awhile! :DDD
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robinsnest2111 · 8 months ago
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idly wondering with what experts would diagnose me if I was 100% truthful and could remember every single thing that happened to me and every single quirk I developed because of it <3
#like esp. at the start my mother would sit in on all my therapy sessions#and i didn't yet grasp what therapy was for at age 11 so i just talked about my day#and showed the nice lady my latest drawings orz#all that got me was a 'oh that kid is just shy and a little scared going to school just force him to go it'll be fine <3'#never said anything about the nefarious bullying or the things going on at home#because at that point i was so naive i thought it was NORMAL#and other therapists later on only ever focused on my weight and how sloppy i dressed. never addressing all my other issues so i gave up#never talked about all the other stuff for a while.#also that ONE situation i can barely remember but that fucked me up the most i think back in kindergarten... never told anyone about it#except a friend last year. wondering what therapists would say about that if i ever opened up about that to them#after a bit of thought it'd also explain my aversion to being touched/examined by doctors in that area. great.#ANYWAY just wondering <333#also all the 'negative' feelings i immediately throw in the repression bin. like jealousy frustration anger annoyance entitlement etc#been told one too many times that these things are ugly and shouldn't be displayed. should stop acting like a spoiled brat#never learned how to handle any of that <333#recently have taken to being overly analytical about it all. trying to find what triggers these emotions and then rationalising them away <3#they do still fester deep in my soul tho <333#good thing i'm so good at repression that i forget about it all eventually until something makes me remember and then i suffer#but then i repress again and i can live in blissful ignorance again <333333#wish i could be a dumb silly billy more often and not think about things too much like i usually do haha#maybe that's why i'm so drawn to and fadcinated by the bimbocore subculture/movement...... 🤔#anyway anyway just thinking haha
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deus-and-the-machina · 1 year ago
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I havent really been into the current state of the JJK manga for a while, im at the point where its ending might hold some value for me as someone who was already invested in the characters but largely aside from seeing how a few things pan out I just really really couldn't care less. 
that being said I have to thank gege for every new chapter giving us more and more good looking Gojos. the more feral and covered in blood the better, and hoo boy am I getting that.
#god can he just kill sukuna already tho. like idc about this I want gojo v kenjaku#im of two minds on the megumi thing bc I do think its weird that gojo hasn't had any strong thoughts about potentially killing megumi#(tho i do think gege is like. holding them back rather than ignoring them) but I also think the fandom forgets their canon relationship#like yeah its nice to imagine them as a wholesome family but I dont think they even think of themselves as father and son at all lol#guardian and ward morelike. and I do think gojo was a decent guardian but I also dont think that recently traumatized and also annoying#teen gojo was ever like. very emotionally available or comforting. not to say it shouldn't be expected for gojo to be upset about this but#also I think people can get a little too wrapped up in their wholesome family pics. bc for one you can bet your ass gege doesnt care about#tsumiki enough to consider whether gojo was technically her guardian as well and how he'd care about her fate. or even nobaras it seems#holding out for gojo to be simply repressing his feelings and it biting him in the ass later but idk#he DID look strained when realizing megumis soul recognized ultimate void tho :(((( that does make me said :((((((#anyways sukuna was a fine enough villain for me but ngl hes gotten a lil annoying likewhatevs dude idc. kenjaku is hells more cunty than you#normally I wouldn't mind his shallow motives and didnt bc he was a threat that contributed to the plot but now that hes out and running#loose hes just so boring idk. like you're just gonna fight stuff. ok. lame. kenjaku vs gojo might actually have some emotional weight to it#idc about this fight and idc about sukuna#like when gojo mentioned his students and they all grinned. that! that that that he cares about them ok gege!#jujutsu kaisen#jjk 230
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wellnoe · 1 year ago
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tbh i think in looking at xavier’s relationship w scott some people find it very easy to swing into caricature. despite charles being a whole and coherent character.
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angstlizard · 20 days ago
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the worst part about accidentally getting brainrot about a show that was cancelled years ago is that the fandom is completely dead. i am chewing on a stick in this sandbox all by myself long after the playground shut down
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phagodyke · 6 months ago
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yeah I'm not gonna talk abt it am I...
#well thats okay. eventually itll come up naturally. and if not well. it doesnt make me feel very okay. but its not a big deal#and i guess ill meet ppl in the future who will curate a different idea of me and maybe therell be fewer misunderstandings#<- coward who CAN communicate to save their life but not in any lower stakes situation for their happiness n quality of life#we <3 repression n insecurity. maybe if i keep digging at the corner of this bit of the labyrinth with my spoon ill get out someday 😌#anyway.. theres my daily vague vent post got it out of my system#wanted to do it earlier but ended up not having much time after work n then called friends which was nice :^)#also i never have signal at work these days.. my boss has said shell get me on the staff wifi tho cuz i do need it for work reasons#its rare to need it for work purposes bc we all use work pcs n stuff anyway and not rly supposed to use mobiles in the lab#but yeahh.. god i have so much admin shit to sort out also gotta text family back before i sleep i forgot to earlier#its all good.. also my memory foam pillows turned up so i no longer have to steal my roomies extra one for my neck pain <3#ik she was missing it... not to sound like a creep but it was nice that it smelled like her a little. just familiar innit#we're always around each other so its just what being home smells like to me.. listen i have a sensitive nose 😔✋️#if we were a lot closer i would ask if i could sleep in her bed while shes away but we're not so it would come across sooo weird..#and i would feel rly weird abt someone sleeping in my own room without me there. well maybe not actually. as long as they werent snooping#<- guy whose mother used to go thru their shit all the time n struggles to not feel paranoid and distrustful when it comes to privacy#was thinking recently my ideal living situation w a partner would be separate rooms but we still share the bed sometimes#but not every night bc im a sensitive sleeper... but we can switch bedding so i can still smell them if i wake up in the night alone#like how new mothers trying to get babies used to cot sleeping each have a cloth or blanket and swap every night#so the baby is comforted by the blankets smell and sleeps more peacefully.. and momma finds it easier being apart from the baby too#sorry this is getting gooey and weird my meds have been wearing off the last couple hours im so sleeppyyyy 😭#well.... maybe everything can wait until tomorrow..... bed is calling..#goodnight everyone muah#.diaries
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heejake-hoon · 4 months ago
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Enhypen hyung line and cockwarming (mdni)
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A.N: this ended up longer than i intended sorry TT. Also i don't like the way this turned out but anyways, enjoy 🧡🧡 also this is not proofread.
Heeseung:
You kneel on the plush carpet between Heeseung's spread thighs, breath already coming in shallow pants in anticipation. His big screen is illuminating his handsome features in a soft blue glow as he fiddles with his controller, getting set up for an intense gaming session.
With a subtle raise of his hips, Heeseung silently signals you to take your position - the only warmth and comfort he'll need during his digital battles. Eagerly leaning in, you mouth along the impressive bulge tenting his thin shorts, nuzzling against the thick, heated outline of his half-hard cock through the soft fabric.
"There's my good little cockwarmer," he rumbles in approval, large hand instinctively drifting down to caress the back of your head as you lap hot kitten licks up his rapidly stiffening shaft. The heavy, intoxicating scent of Heeseung's virile musk surrounds you in a thick, arousing fog.
With deft motions, you slip his shorts out of the way just enough to free his growing erection, the thick, veiny length springing out to slap heavily against his chiseled abdomen. An involuntary mewl of desperation escapes as you drink in the magnificent sight - plush lips parting in greedy anticipation.
"Easy there, pet," Heeseung chuckles, amused arousal glinting in his dark gaze as he hooks a thumb into the corner of your willing mouth to pull it wider. "You're doing such a good job slobbering all over my cock already."
Whining around the thick digit stretching your lips open, you lean in to engulf the swollen, spongy head between your slickened lips as Heeseung's attention has already returned to the game. His cock throbs heavily on your greedy tongue, the rich flavor of his pre-cum already beading on the tapered tip.
You slurp it up hungrily as your head begins to bob in a well-practiced rhythm, contentedly working your hand in concert with your mouth to slather every impressive inch in saliva. This is one of your favorite duties - to take good care of Heeseung's magnificent cock while stoking his arousal on low-simmer as he focuses on other matters.
Once he's sheathed to the hilt in the tight, wet heat of your willing throat, you simply hold there and let his impressive girth rest heavily on your dexterous tongue. Your senses narrow to the steady pulse of his fat cock in your mouth, the rise and fall of his clenched abdominals as he breathes through a particularly intense gaming sequence.
When his character pulls off a flawless, multi-kill combo, Heeseung growls out a gruff "Fuck yeah!" and impulsively ruts his hips upward to stuff the rigid column down your convulsing throat. You gag harshly, drool sputtering around the seal of your lips as you forcibly repress your gag reflex.
"Good girl," he pants raggedly, eyes still locked on the bright screen even as he starts to brutally face-fuck you - thick, slurping thrusts of cock pumping against the back of your mouth. "Get nice and ready for my fat load while I kick some ass..."
The intensity of Heeseung's thrusts steadily builds as he gets more and more worked up over his game, each successful kill or close shave fueling the savage jolts of his hips. Your eyes are rolling back helplessly, saliva pooling around his pistoning shaft to drool obscenely down your chin. All you can do is cling to his powerful thighs and desperately breathe through your nose whenever he pulls back enough to allow a sliver of air.
"Fuck yes, taking my cock like a perfect little cumdump," he growls without looking down, the wet squelches of rigid meat slamming against your gasping lips adding to the cacophony. Every nerve is set alight from the brutal overstimulation, your own slick drenching your thighs with each punishing face-fuck.
When a massive combo culminates in victory, Heeseung roars out his excitement and tightens his grip on your scalp, utterly taking control. He hammers into your mouth with wild, punishing abandon, the heavy impact of his full sac pounding your chin making your eyes water.
"Open up wide and get ready, whore," he snarls, right on the cusp of climax. "I'm gonna make sure you're overflowing with my thick seed all the way down your sloppy gullet..."
With a hoarse shout, Heeseung's hips seize as he holds you impaled fully on his cock. You feel the first hot, syrupy blast of cum erupting directly into your abused throat - thick, potent ropes continuing to pulse out in an endless, stifling deluge. He doesn't pull out until his softening cock stops twitching, leaving your entire mouth, throat and chin caked with his pearly spend.
Jay:
You settled obediently between Jay's muscular thighs under his desk, already feeling a rush of arousal as his musky male scent surrounded you. His thick cock hung heavily from the open vee of his suit pants, the flushed head glistening with a bead of precum.
Licking your lips, you leaned in and dragged the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft in one long, torturous lick from root to tip. Jay sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers stilling on the keyboard briefly. Encouraged, you swirled your tongue around the swollen crown, teasing the slit until more of the salty fluid leaked out.
"Fuck..." Jay breathed out a groan as you lathed the engorged head with kitten licks. "Been thinking about this sweet mouth all day, baby."
You hummed in delight and finally parted your lips, taking the bulbous tip into your wet heat. Inch by delicious inch, you sank down on his throbbing length until the coarse hair at the base tickled your nose and his impressive girth stretched your lips obscenely wide.
Keeping your movements tantalizingly slow, you massaged the underside with the strong muscles of your tongue as you pulled back up to suckle at the sensitive crown. Jay cursed again, one large hand dropping to fist in your hair as you set an agonizing rhythm.
"That's it, sweetheart... Gonna keep my cock nice and warmed up down that greedy little throat," he growled, the gravelly timbre of his voice sending a shiver of need through you.
You whimpered around his thick shaft, your core clenching needily. Drool quickly escaped the corners of your stretched lips, but you were too far gone to care about being messy. All that mattered was pleasuring your lover and feeling his heavy cock sliding between your lips.
Jay's grip tightened in your hair as his hips began rolling slowly in time with your bobs, his tip nudging the back of your throat with each shallow thrust. Determined to take him deeper, you focused on relaxing your mind and muscles, allowing him to ease further into your convulsing channel.
"Oh fuck... Gonna lose my mind feeling you swallow around me like that," he groaned, his free hand still typing intermittently.
Salty precum flooded your senses as his cock throbbed and jumped on your tongue. You moaned around the girthy stretch, the vibrations making Jay shudder and bottom out in your spasming throat.
Emboldened, you fondled and massaged his heavy sac, reveling in his ragged curses and the tight grip in your hair. His movements grew more erratic, his breathing harsh,
until finally Jay pushed his chair back from the desk. You pulled off his spit-slicked cock with a messy slurp, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes and swollen lips.
"Up here. Now," he growled, voice rough with need as his intense gaze roamed over your disheveled state.
You scrambled eagerly into his lap, grinding your dripping core against the rigid length trapped between your bodies. Jay captured your lips in a searing kiss, his clever tongue plundering your mouth as he yanked impatiently at your clothes.
Soon you were naked from the waist down, skirt shoved up around your waist as Jay's thick cockhead nudged insistently at your sodden entrance. You whimpered into the filthy kiss, shamelessly chasing friction by circling your hips.
"You want this big cock filling you up?" Jay rasped against your lips, calloused fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your ass to grind the weeping tip through your slick folds.
"Please, please..." you babbled shamelessly, rolling your hips to take him deeper with each teasing pass.
Chuckling darkly at your wanton Display, Jay shifted his grip and hauled you down in one smooth thrust, impaling you completely on his impressive length. You threw your head back with a broken cry, feeling so deliciously full and stretched around his thick shaft.
He gave you no time to adjust before setting a punishing pace, his rigid cock sawing in and out of your fluttering, cream-soaked channel. The lewd noises of skin slapping against skin and your high-pitched mewls of pleasure filled the room as he used you for his gratification.
Overwhelming sensations blazed along every nerve. Your nails scored desperate lines down Jay's back, his harsh grunts and the drag of his cock against your over-sensitized inner walls driving you swiftly toward delirium.
"That's it, sweetheart, gonna fill up this greedy little cunt," Jay snarled, his hips pistoning with relentless force. "Take my load like a good girl."
Jake:
Jake let out a frustrated groan as he stared down at the textbook open in front of him on the desk. He'd been trying to focus on his college homework for what felt like hours, but his mind kept wandering. Until you crawled into his lap and slowly impaled yourself on his thick length.
"Fuck..." he hissed out between clenched teeth as your scorching heat enveloped him in one agonizing descent. "Supposed to help me concentrate, not drive me crazy, babygirl."
You shuddered at the harsh rasp of his voice against your ear, already feeling his heavy cock start to swell and harden further within your fluttering walls. Per your agreement, you stilled completely, your slick internal muscles gently massaging his throbbing length.
Jake tried valiantly to turn his attention back to the books and papers strewn in front of him, but the obscene stretch and smoldering heat gripping his dick made it impossible to focus. He hadn't realized just how deliciously torturous this idea would be.
His cock twitched forcefully inside you as rivulets of arousal trickled down your trembling thighs, soaking the material of his sweats where your pelvis met his. He bit out a muffled curse, fists clenching on the desktop.
"So fucking tight..." Jake ground out, hips flexing with the slightest abortive thrust before he caught himself, teeth gritted.
You couldn't bite back the whimper at the electrifying burst of sensation, already feeling drunk on the heavy stretch and throbbing heat spearing you open. Your pussy clenched greedily around his solid invasion, fluttering and muscles rippling in a desperate milking motion.
Jake dropped his head against the back of the chair with a broken groan, muscles tense and cords of tendons straining in his neck as he fought to remain still. Every flex and convulsive grip of your inner walls had his toes curling, so close to losing control.
One large hand dropped between your parted thighs to stroke through the copious arousal coating your folds and trailing down his taint in lewd rivulets. He gathered the musky essence, coating his fingers before bringing them to swirl around your swollen clit.
The electric jolt caused you to clench harshly around his throbbing cock, frantic choked whimpers spilling from your lips. That only encouraged Jake, fingertips working tight, frenzied circles against the throbbing bundle of nerves.
You were reduced to a mewling wreck of sensation, body practically vibrating with pent-up need as Jake ruthlessly stroked you higher while locking himself in an iron rigid line of restraint behind you.
"Fuck, fuck, you feel so goddamn good," he growled against the sweaty curve of your neck, the words ragged torture. "Need to move so fucking bad..."
White-hot pleasure licked down your limbs, muscles growing taut as a bowstring as you barrelled toward the precipice. Jake captured your desperate cries on his tongue, one hand still stroking your clit as the other fisted in your hair to angle your mouth for a soul-scorching kiss.
The whiplash of ecstasy ricocheted between your joined bodies in an endless feedback loop of pure hedonistic bliss until the swirling vortex of rapture finally broke, crashing over you both in shattering waves.
Your pussy clamped down like a vise, convulsing and gushing around his iron length as Jake's restraint snapped utterly in your climax. A broken roar tore from his chest as he finally unleashed himself, jackknifing his hips to drive his cock in hard, pounding strokes through your fluttering, spasming core.
Jake painted your milking walls with his scorching seed, his cock throbbing and jerking with each thick pulse. Neither of you slowed or softened your delirious thrashing until his balls were drained and your honey was smeared in obscene streaks across the bulging cords of his flexing abdomen.
It felt like an eternity before you finally collapsed, boneless and quivering against Jake's heaving chest. The hoarse groan that escaped him was utterly satisfied as his softening length slipped free with a lush gush of combined release.
"No fucking way I can focus on homework after that," he rasped, voice gravelly with spent lust.
Sunghoon:
The thick bulge in Sunghoon's pants was already straining against the material as he slid into the driver's seat of his car. With a heated look, he crooked his finger at you. "Get that sweet ass over here, baby."
You hurried to obey, eagerly climbing into his lap and nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Sunghoon's big hands were rough as they gripped your hips, yanking you firmly against the rigid line of his trapped cock.
"Need to be inside this greedy little hole..." he growled, biting sharply at the juncture of your neck and shoulder.
You whimpered at the delicious sting, grinding shamelessly against the promise of his thick length as he hurriedly unfastened both your pants. With your leggings pushed down to your thighs, Sunghoon's cock sprang free - flushed, veiny and leaking at the tip.
Licking your lips, you reached between your bodies to grasp the velvety steel of his shaft. Sunghoon hissed as you smeared the pearling bead of precum from his slit and used it to slick the way.
You both moaned in unison as you slowly sank down on his rigid heat, his thickness stretching you so deliciously wide. Once fully sheathed, his cock pulsed and throbbed deep inside your clenching channel.
"Fuck, you're so goddamn tight," Sunghoon bit out, flexing his hips to work his cock deeper.
Crying out at the intense stimulation, you clenched around the thick, sensitive head as he started the car. The heavy throb of the engine only enhanced the shockwaves of pleasure sparking through your core with every lurch of the vehicle.
Bracing his hands on your waist, Sunghoon effortlessly held you impaled as he navigated the streets. He grunted every time you clenched around him, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks.
The obscene stretch and slide of his cock in your aching pussy made your thighs tremble. You couldn't help but squirm and rock in his lap, desperately chasing more delicious friction while he drove.
"Keep that greedy cunt still," Sunghoon growled in warning, one hand leaving your hip to lash across your ass. The sharp smack of flesh on flesh made you jolt and whimper. "Or you're gonna get this dick jackhammering into you at every red light."
Despite his threat, his chest was heaving with ragged breaths, giving away how turned on he was at feeling you clench convulsively around his embedded length. Still, you forced yourself to stillness, mewling pitifully as torturous tingles sparked along your over-sensitized nerves.
Finally, Sunghoon slammed on the brakes at a red light, the rough jolt making you cry out in blissful torment. His grip on your hips wasbruising as he hauled you up until just the thick tip remained stretching your entrance.
Time seemed to still as you whined and thrashed, hole clenching greedily around his crown, desperate for more of his thick cock splitting you open. You stared into Sunghoon's lust-darkened eyes, feeling delirious and wanton.
"You want it?" he rasped, the single worded question somehow filthier than any elaborate dirty talk. You could only nod frantically.
Then he slammed you back down, burying his entire punishing length in one brutal stroke as you screamed in euphoria. Any sense of rhythm or restraint shattered in the wake of his pounding thrusts and hoarse grunts of exertion.
His cock plunged wildly in and out of your spasming, cream-slicked channel, using your body shamelessly for his own release. The lewd sounds of harsh skin slapping mixed with strangled moans and muffled curses filled the car.
Every intrusion of his thick cock battered against your over-stimulated inner walls, dragging agonizing shrieks of pleasure from your raw throat. You lost yourself to delirium, body seized and convulsing without control.
Sunghoon didn't let up, relentlessly hammering his rigid length through your shuddering inner-vice. With a guttural roar, his pace turned frantic and hips stuttered erratically. Scorching ropes of his release flooded and stretched your pummeled hole, his cock jerking with each obscene pulse.
The burning heat of his seed seemed to sear along your sensitized nerves, triggering your own devastating climax. Every muscle locked as you shattered apart with a wail, cunt spasming wildly to milk every last drop from Sunghoon's cock.
Eyes glassy with residual bliss, you can barely move when he effortlessly hauls you up until just the swollen tip of his cock is caught in your fluttering entrance. But then the light turns red once more.
Sunghoon doesn't say a word, just brutally sheathes his entire length inside you again with one punishing thrust. The scream rips from your raw throat unbidden as he pulls almost all the way out and slams home again.
And again. And again - brutal and relentless.
You flail and claw at his shoulders, deliriously overstimulated, but he just pins your wrists against the steering wheel with one iron grip. His free hand at your hip is merciless, controlling the angle and force as he pile-drives his cock into your helplessly convulsing cunt.
The slick sounds of his pistoning thrusts are obscenely loud with each rapid stroke through your mess of mingled juices. The entire car shakes and rocks from the force of his assault as he ruins your battered hole on his thick cock.
Tears stream from your eyes from the overwhelming stimulation. Your voice gives out into hoarse whimpers punctuated by the lewd squelching between your bodies.
You can do nothing but take the ruthless reaming, gasping like a landed fish each time his hips slam home and jackhammer his dick fully into your spasming depths. Each inward stroke seems to punch deeper - stretching, battering, ruining.
Just when you're certain you can't handle another second of his savage possession, just when wavering darkness invades the corners of your vision...
The light turns green.
Sunghoon instantly drags you fully down onto his cock again, grinding deep as you sob around the thick pulse and throb of his length locked inside you. He lets out a rumbling growl of satisfaction at your pitiful whimpers.
"Hold it in, sweetheart," he rasps into the sweaty curve of your neck. "Not a drop can spill from that pretty, ruined cunt."
You choke back a wail as he uses his grip on your wrists to make you grind in tiny circles on the base of his cock. The torturous movement has it dragging and shifting through your swollen, abused walls, smearing his seed deeper.
Every muscle shivers and clenches, desperately trying to obey his filthy command. You're his cockwarming fleshlight, forced immobile and impaled while he resumes driving.
At the first roll of the next red light, he rewards you by unleashing another round of brutal, short thrusts, wrenching hoarse cries from you over and over as his cock batters home. He repeats this vicious pattern, timing each ruthless, punishing series of thrusts to the red lights.
You soon lose all sense of time and space, reality reduced to nothing but the endless cycle of Sunghoon's cock ravaging through your ruined hole, only to have you brought back to torturous stillness on its thick depth.
You drool and sob helplessly, enduring the obscene torment as he uses your body without mercy. All the while, his cum slowly seeps from your gaping, convulsing entrance to dampen his pants and seat beneath you...
1K notes · View notes
chibelial · 2 years ago
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Alright fellas wish me luck in actually sleeping through the night for once
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vidals-harkness · 2 months ago
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seekest thou the road
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summary: a random thursday turned into a strange series of happenings which meant certain clarity for you and your mother. but that clarity also meant the start of a new journey, the revelation of true feelings, and a quest for one's desires.
fic type: angst
pairings: agatha harkness x teen!reader, rio vidal x teen!reader, teen x teen!reader
word count: 6.7k
series masterlist | masterlist
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It was a normal Thursday morning for Agnes and her daughter Y/n.
You trudged out of bed, blanket wrapped around you as you made your way downstairs to see your mom, Agnes O'Connor, making her morning coffee none too happily.
“Good morning,” you said, smiling a little as you sipped on the cup of coffee she had kept ready for you, in response to which you recieved a short grunt.
Agnes O'Connor really wasn't a morning person.
The sound of rain broke the silence that hung heavy between you both, and as the chill seemed to only increase, you pulled your blanket tighter around your shoulders, feeling your hands tingle with the warmth of the cup in them. The sharp ringtone of her phone made you jump a little, but her chatter faded into the background as your attention went to the kitchen window.
The fog lay thick, same as when you had woken. However, it seemed to strike a chill down your spine which stood out from the cold of the season. Through the pattering of rain on glass, you could hear loud T.V static, the sound of canned laughter. Normal but...foreboding.
Your gaze darted behind to where the T.V was, but the flat-screen was dark, inactive. The sound was from right where you had been looking before--outside. You squinted through the gaps the raindrops left on the glass, to see an old-timey T.V right there in the middle of the street, showing a black-and-white sitcom. The words were not clear, same as the faces of the characters, but you felt like you'd been there before. Not like reminiscence, not like déjà -vu. Just...familiar.
You blinked rapidly as everything came back into focus. Your mom looked happier than she had in maybe weeks, and you didn't want to ask about phantom T.Vs in the fear of maybe wrecking this strange sense of happiness she seemed to have.
"Get in the car, kid, you're coming to work with me today," she said, tossing her keys up and catching them with an audible jingle.
You groaned. You did not want to spend several hours just sitting in her office, watching her play Candy Crush.
"Great," you grumbled sarcastically, going upstairs to change your clothes. Pulling on plain, comfortable clothes, you discreetly stole her green flannel shirt and pulled it on, combing your hair carefully. You were a lazy teen, yes, but you weren’t an animal.
The car rolled down the empty road, the haze seeming to part like the Red Sea, while the view beyond the windows warped with the raindrops running down it. You rested your elbow against the glass, head resting on your palm as you scrolled through a website on your phone, the rumble of the car pairing with the pattering of rain to create the perfect ambiance for silence.
“So,” your mom said, breaking the somewhat comfortable quietness that had settled. “What’s the latest hyperfixation?”
“Still history,” you said in a bored monotone.
“What’cha reading about on that tiny screen anyway?”
“The Salem Witch Trials,”
Agnes rolled her eyes subtly, which you ignored, and shrugged, “You realise none of that matters anymore, right?”
“You mean the repression of women and the deprivation of knowledge they faced due to the fear of being burnt at the stake under the accusation of being a witch just cause she can count to ten? Yeah, pretty sure that matters,” you deadpanned.
“Jeez,” she scoffed.
You rolled your eyes. She’d been sour and irritable for months now, especially after her riding the desk period.
“I don’t get why I have to come,” you said. “I’m seventeen, the worst thing I’ll probably do is watch A-rated stuff on Netflix,”
“Yeah, well I needed your true-crime expertise,” she said curtly. “And you gotta spend your suspension productively somehow, don’t you?”
“Well if the police system in Westview wasn’t so shit, maybe you wouldn’t even need a seventeen year old to help you solve a murder. And for the last time, my suspension is actually invalid, unlike yours,” you rolled your eyes, earning a sharp flick on your temple from her.
“Don’t even start,” she scowled. “We’re shorthanded here,”
“Sounds like a you problem,”
“Sounds like a week of no phone if you keep up with this attitude, little miss,”
The silence settled again, broken by only the sound of her humming a strange, soft tune. You liked it, but you weren’t going to admit it, no way.
Your eyes caught sight of a car wreck just on the side of the road, which was concerning because they weren’t any skid marks from what you could see through the watery glass. You shook your head. You’d clearly been watching too much true crime lately.
The car halted, and she exited, holding the two coffees she’d bought, nodding at you to get out which you reciprocated with an eye roll.
The air was colder here, the chill of a murder hanging in it, standing out deliciously. You noticed a dark, smoky figure dancing in your peripheral vision, but you blinked and it was gone. Shaking the strange feeling, you shoved your hands in the pockets of your jeans, standing beside Agnes.
“Another beautiful day,” said your mother.
“Hey Herb,” you nodded at the man, who stood behind the yellow tape.
“Hey, neighbour,” he nodded at you both, gaze shifting over to Agatha. “Surprised to see you out here, Detective,”
“Oh, and the sixteen year old isn’t surprising?” She scoffed, earning a shrug from him. She shook her head and continued, “There I was, sitting on my duff, playing Candy Crush, happy as a clam, enjoying the fruits of my undeserved disciplinary action—“
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, kicking at a stone on the ground. “Beg to differ,”
“You punched a suspect,” Herb deadpanned.
“Oh, now a convicted felon. I can’t be right and wrong at the same time,” she shrugged.
“Debatable,” you singsonged quietly, earning a kick to your shin.
“Yes, you can,” he confirmed.
“When the Chief calls and tells me, ‘Hibernation’s over. ‘Got a case only you can solve.’,” sensing his skepticism, she added, “Direct quote,”
He sighed with defeat and pulled up the tape, allowing you both in. You chuckled softly and patted his shoulder with sympathy, earning a soft laugh from his end.
“Playing hooky, Y/n?” He asked as you walked beside him.
“Suspension,” you grumbled. “Punched a kid in the face,”
“Moving on from the start of your delinquent career,” Agnes interrupted, prompting Herb to continue.
“Jane Doe. Found her down here by the water. Dispatch was tipped off by an anonymous call,” he explained.
“Basic,” you rolled your eyes. “Lasting evidence?”
“This is all she had on her,” Herb handed over an evidence bag with something in it—a library card.
“What’s this? From a library book?” She asked, snatching it away.
“No shit, mom,” you scoffed, looking around the area for clues. “And real mature for a 50 year old,”
“Watch your mouth,” she snapped.
“Westview branch,” Herb interjected.
“Cause?” She asked.
“Blunt force trauma,”
Blunt force trauma? Unless she’s been clocked over the head at the library with a dictionary, you didn’t see any cliffs she could’ve been thrown off of.
As if she’d read your mind, your mother said, “Not much of a drop around here. She fall?”
“She was crushed,” he sighed.
Crushed? Even better. Where could you find boulders in a creek where the biggest stone was probably the same size as your hand?
“By what?”
“Something big. And heavy,”
“So she didn’t die here,”
“She is dead, though, isn’t she, Herb?” She asked, brow raised.
“Oh, she’s really, most sincerely dead,” he confirmed.
“You never know,”
The body lay face down beside the creek, and you could’ve sworn you saw that same shadowy figure, this time with a flash of…green? It vanished before you could make sense of it.
The woman wore a hoodie and slacks—house clothes, suggesting a home murder? Maybe? This case was too complicated. Blunt force trauma with nothing in particular, a library card, and clothes which resembled a breakup uniform. It made as much sense as a toddler’s handwriting.
Your mother had vanished somewhere, looking for clues, leaving you alone with forensics and the body, surrounded by yellow tape.
The air grew another chill, separate from the one caused by the rain. You felt someone breathing down your neck, and turned sharply to check who it was.
Strangely, nobody.
Your head gave a sharp stab of pain, and you winced, the voices in your head growing loudest, but still giving way to one, familiar voice. And all it said was a single sentence. ‘Snap out of it,’
There was a snap of someone’s fingers near your ear, and the voices went back down to whispers in the back of your mind.
Agnes knelt beside the body, freshly rolled over.
“Who are you?” She asked quietly. “What happened to you?”
“You okay, Agnes?” Herb asked, concerned.
“How do you mean?” She snapped.
“You don’t seem like yourself.” He said nervously.
“For starters you’re asking a dead body for answers,” you smirked, poking her cheek.
She smacked your hand away. “Oh, yeah? And who is that exactly? I’ll try to be more cheerful for you next time,” her tone was bitter as she stood up. “But right now this unidentified woman lying dead in a creek has just got me down in the dumps,”
“Jeez, looks like someone’s hormonal,” you rolled your eyes, bumping her shoulder as you walked past her. “I can’t tell who’s the teenager here,”
“Shut up,” she snapped at you, turning to Herb. “Let me know when the dental records come in,”
You sat in the car with her again, on the way to the library. Yet again, there was that silence—that uncomfortable, thin-ice kind of silence which frankly drove you up the wall. There was a time where you would make jokes with her, a time where you both would sing to shitty music on the radio, but that was long gone. Now, all you both did was sit together, a cavernous distance between you two which, in reality, was just a few inches apart.
You loved your mother, of course you did, but it was at times like these where you felt she didn’t feel the same.
“What do you think, hm?” She asked at last—that same, irritated, clipped tone breaking through your thoughts.
“About what? If it’s your fashion sense, I think we could use some work—“ you began, judgement evident in your own tone.
“About the case,” she sighed. “Cut it out with the sarcasm,”
“Hey, all I’m saying is that the broke noir-chic is starting to look a little bit more divorce-chic except you’re not getting the benefits,” you shrugged. “But as for the case, there’s definitely more to it,”
“Okay, and?” She prompted.
You paused, gathering your thoughts. “Well, for starters, the method of killing is hazy. She died of blunt force trauma, but that was inflicted by crushing, but this is Westview. The biggest boulder in the creek is probably a skipping stone. And you can’t crush someone with that. Not their whole body, definitely,”
She hummed thoughtfully. You hated how the only time you talked was about cases. It was never about school, or football, or anything else. Always murder, crime, arrest.
“Whatever, anyway,” you rolled your eyes. “We’ve reached,”
The library had a stupendously long queue, and you were about stand in it, only to have Agnes grip your wrist and pull you forward.
“Ah. Official police business. Excuse me, excuse me,” she said, pushing past them all, earning disgruntled comments from them all.
“You use that line at the supermarket checkout, too?” Dottie, the library clerk asked.
“It’s embarrassing,” you sighed, avoiding eye contact with Agnes.
“Only suckers wait their turn,” your crazy mother replied haughtily.
“How can I help you, Agnes?” Dottie asked, sighing softly.
She produced the library card, the packet crinkling as it hit the desk. “Found this on a victim,”
“Ooh. Who’s the victim? Is she dead?” The lady asked.
“Now, why do you assume it’s a woman?” Your mother frowned.
“Exactly,” you frowned. “Statistically, males are more subject to be murder victims, given that on an average, only 30% of victims are women,”
The lady gave you a prompt side eye, saying, “I don’t know. Sounds more titillating,”
She took a look at the card, shaking her head, “There are no names on here,”
“But there are dates,” Agnes interjected.
“We don’t use cards anymore. Everything’s digital now. Sorry,” she grimaced.
“Well, thanks a bunch for your help, Dottie. You’ve been an absolute angel. Incidentally,” Agnes’s voice rose to a shout as she added, “Where were you last night between the hours of 1:00 and 3:00 a.m.?”
You put your head down, covering your ears and groaning. “You’re an embarrassment, mother,”
Just to shut her up, thus sympathising with you, Dottie calmed her down, “I guess I could run the book title,”
“Oh, can you?” She snapped sarcastically. “Come on, Y/n,”
“No, no, no,” you shook your head, evading her attempt to yank you in the library. “It’s time for you to be an adult and give me some money for ice cream after I just suffered second hand embarrassment at your hands,”
“Fine,” she conceded, after holding your gaze for a good ten seconds, handing you some money.
“Thank you,” you said firmly, marching out of the library.
You heaved a sigh of relief, as if you'd exhaled a breath you didn't know you'd been holding. The sun shone down on the pavement, casting sharp shadows as you walked down the street to your favourite place--the coffee shop where you and your brother would participate in open mic nights. You remembered how well he'd sing with you accompanying him on the guitar...
You shook yourself out of your thoughts. You hated thinking about Nicky. It always ruined your mood. More so than your mother.
You entered the shop, sighing in relief at the familiar scent of chocolate chip cookies and ground coffee beans. The owner of the shop was a sweet old lady and her husband, both of whom were perhaps the kindest people in Westview.
"Hi there," you smiled, handing her the money. "Can I have my usual, please?"
The lady, Mrs. Jackson, smiled before saying, "Oh, that nice young woman over there already asked for one, paid for it, too,"
You turned in the direction where she was pointing, seeing a shockingly familiar woman in police attire, her hair pulled back in a low, loose bun at the nape of her neck, the top two buttons of her white shirt opened, while the sun glinted off the badge she had hung around her neck.
She beckoned you over with the curl of her finger, and you went over, sitting down in front of her.
"Hi there, Detective Vidal," you smiled slightly.
Rio chuckled softly, pushing the cup of coffee towards you. "I see you're still stuck,"
You frowned a little at that. "Pardon?"
She shook her head. "Here, in Westview. I'd have thought your mom would've gotten sick of this place by now,"
You inhaled deeply, sipping the coffee happily. "Wishful thinking," you said. "That lady is fucking crazy. So...what brings you to town?"
"You know why I'm here," she nodded. You liked her for this reason. She was straightforward, just as enigmatic as a detective should be, yet she spoke with a kind of firm kindness which few could master.
"You're here to...get under mom's skin?" You tilted your head, curious.
She laughed, looking down as she shook her head. "I've been assigned to help with her...case,"
"Oh she's going to be pissed," you giggled, fingertips running along the edges of the saucer your cup was on. "But is this case really FBI worthy?"
"Well, it's worthy of federal intervention," she nodded. "But that's not entirely why I'm here,"
You nodded a little dejectedly. "Oh. You're not here for too long, then?"
"Just until this whole matter clears up," she shrugged. "Shouldn't be a while. But we can go for ice cream sometime. How're you holding up here?"
You paused, meeting her gaze fully for a good minute. An aura danced along her outline--black and hazy. Your fingertips tingled against the warm ceramic of the cup, and you felt that same stab of pain in your head like you had in the morning.
"Easy," Rio said softly, her fingertips tapping on your wrist. "Think through it, you're still stuck,"
The world bend out of shape for a good moment, the only thing remaining constant was her face. You squeezed your eyes shut, hearing the cup on the table tremble as the voices began to scream.
"Come on, nena," her voice was soft, quiet. "Snap out of it,"
You heard the snap next to your ear again, and when you opened your eyes, you saw through the veil for a moment. She was dressed in black, you could see the bones...
Down came the veil, and with it the voices quietened. Her face was normal again, soft jaw, sharp smile.
"You've got it in you, Y/n," she said softly, her hand still tracing your wrist. "Just snap out of it,"
You blinked, and she was gone.
The next morning, you woke up dazed. It was a similar morning like the previous day's--foggy, cloudy, confusing, gloomy. You avoided your mother completely, she seemed to be a little more off her rocker than usual.
"I'm assuming you're taking me to the office again?" You sighed softly as she grabbed the car keys.
"Yes ma'am, get your ass in the car in five," she said, heading out.
You squinted at said 'car'. It was...a broom on a desk in the living room? But you shook your head, going back to normal. It was just the same old Honda Civic she'd been driving the last few years you had been in Westview.
The station was radiating depression as per usual, and you groaned to yourself as you walked past the Chief with a brief good morning.
She settled in her chair while you sat on the couch, reading your book quietly.
“You hear what happened at the library?” Agnes asked the Chief.
“No, I—“ he began, but she cut him off.
“Somebody torched one of the stacks, like, took a flame thrower to it.”
“Oh, yeah?” He asked, distracted. “I’ll have one of the guys follow up. But listen, Agnes—“
“You got a spot on your shirt,” she pointed out.
“Oh—“
“And your tie,”
“Mom will you cut it out?” You asked, irritated with her constantly making the poor guy conscious.
“You makin’ breakfast smoothies again, Chief?” She asked, none too kindly. “You know you’re supposed to put the lid on before you blend it,”
He sighed, fully used to her antics. “Yes, I know. Um…listen, Agnes…”
She sighed deeply, irritated. “You’re about to tell me somethin’ I’m not gonna like,”
“Soil samples from under the fingernails and toenails of the Jane Doe came back,” he started, peaking your interest. “They don’t match the soil she was lyin’ in,”
“That’s no surprise. We assumed she’d been moved,” she said, nodding.
“Yeah, like perp probably carried her off,” you said.
“There were traces of a particular microbial sediment only found in Eastern Europe,” he sighed.
“That sounds like a hell lot of work for a perp,” you chuckled.
“Now get to the part I’m not gonna like,” she said, looking at him sharply.
He stepped aside from the door, and your expression brightened as a familiar woman entered the room.
“Here I am,” she said, her demeanour badass as per usual. “Hey, trouble,” she winked at you, earning a rare smile from you in return.
“You always find new ways to piss me off, don’t you, hon?” Agnes addressed you deadpan, her eyes fixed in Agent Vidal.
"Me? I'm an angel," you rolled your eyes.
“Okay,” Chief sighed.
“Fancy dirt always attracts the attention of the Feds,” Agnes scoffed disdainfully.
“Agent Vidal is an asset here, Agnes,” he reasoned. “More brain power and more resources mean you get to the finish line faster. Strength in numbers. Teamwork makes the dream—“
“Eat my ass, Chief,” she interrupted him.
“You’re just throwing a hissy fit because you’re not gonna be alone in the paper headlines,” you chuckled, earning an eraser chucked at your face.
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Chief said simply, exiting the room.
“It’s been a long time,” Rio said, taking a seat in the sofa, playing with your hair gently.
"What are you doing here?" Agnes asked, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned back in her chair.
"My job,"
"You wanna take control of my investigation,"
"No," after a brief pause where her tongue pushed against the inside of her cheek, she said, "If you wanna be in control, you can be,"
Your brow raised, but you went back to your book, as Agnes continued speaking. "She…The body was moved across state lines. Is that your play?"
Rio took a moment to look around, sighing softly. "Is this really how you see yourself?"
You looked at her, head tilted, and brows furrowed. She continued her movements, her hand gently stroking your hair. You noticed the voices had quietened down significantly...
"Sure. Let’s talk about the case," she said eventually, resignation clear in her tone. "What are your theories? How’d she end up in the ravine? Trouble?" Her gaze went to you.
"My guess is she was killed elsewhere, probably rolled down the hill," you shrugged.
"No drag marks. Thinking the perp carried her," Agnes said.
"Uh… Seems logical, but you don’t really believe that because…" She stood up, placing the file down with pictures on it, taking a perch on the corner of Agnes' desk. "Oops. No tracks for the perp. Not a leaf disturbed before Forensics showed up. It’s almost like she just magically appeared," her voice took an odd tone, somewhat...coaxing?
"Let’s stick to reality here, yeah?" Your mother scoffed.
"Who hurt you? Whatever happened to alternate possibilities?" You rolled your eyes. "Like, who shat on your creativity?"
Rio stifled a laugh, earning a sharp glare from Agnes. She cleared her throat, "Sure,"
"If there’s one thing we can agree on, it’s that these cases are always about the place," Agnes' tone was clear with the taste of theory within it, the backing of facts, the slight hint of senility. "The specific small town, the history of it, the people in it, the secrets buried beneath it. That’s where the answers lie,"
"Well, who better to solve the mystery than one of Westview’s very own?" Rio shrugged, moving off her perch. "Yeah, you’ve lived here your whole life. Isn’t that true… Agnes?"
The pause was jarring, carrying notes of coaxing again, the same tone she'd used at the coffee shop.
"I don’t want you here," Agnes scowled.
"Yeah, because anything even remotely comforting in my life you seem to hate," you scoffed, looking at Rio. "I'm sorry about her, she keeps waking up on the wrong side of the bed,"
"It's all good, nena," she nodded, before leaving the files on the table for Agnes. "I'll get you ice cream sometime before I leave town,"
You nodded, high-fiving her, before she nodded at Agnes. "Te veo," she said, leaving.
Your gaze snapped to her, angry. "What is wrong with you?"
"Me? What's wrong with you? Getting all mushy-mushy with the feds," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.
Maybe because she actually cares about me more than you, you wanted to say.
"I dunno, maybe because her helping with your investigation might mean I'll be free to do what I want," you scowled. "But obviously, you wouldn't care about my happiness, would you?"
You saw a flash of anger pass over her face, and you felt a sick sense of satisfaction. Maybe she finally understood how you felt, maybe this was hint enough—
"We're going to the pawn shop, come on," she snapped, standing up and grabbing her jacket.
No such luck.
You rolled your eyes and stood up, shrugging, "Sure thing,"
The pawn shop was musty, dank, and none too welcoming. You hated it.
“Is it real?” Agnes asked him.
“Oh, it’s real, all right. And it’s a beaut,” he said. “Where’d you get it?”
“Mind your beeswax, Norm,” she snapped. “Where’s it from? How old is it?”
“A picture of politeness and ladylike behaviour,” you rolled your eyes, playing around with a vintage puzzle box.
Norm chuckles in agreement before nodding, “North American. New England, maybe. Late 17th century, I guess. It’s made from cowrie shell,”
“What’s a cowrie?” She frowned.
“Sea snail,” he turned the brooch around and showed it to her, pointing at the ivory figures. “And these hotties here. That’s Triple Goddess. Maiden, Mother, Crone,”
“Common figures in witchcraft, late 17th century lore,” you added.
“What, no Working Professional Goddess?” She scoffed.
He chuckled and the brooch opened with a click, revealing a strand of hair. “Oh, hello,” he said. “Looks like your brooch is a locket. You looking to sell it, Agnes?”
She raised a brow. “How much you offering, Norm?”
“For you? Two hundred,” he shrugged.
“I smell bullshit,” you singsonged, grinning at him cheekily.
"Great. Now I know where to start the bidding on eBay," she snatched it back. "Come on, Y/n,"
"No, save me, Norm..." you mock-wailed, saluting him with two fingers as you exited the shop.
The sun went down and the moon came up, rising slowly in the sky as the nightly autumn chill set in. You napped on the couch, thoughts racing and mind a jumble of scenes and words while she worked.
"Go home, Agnes," Said the chief. "Or atleast call a cab for her," he nodded at your napping form.
"I am home, Chief," she said dismissively. "And I'm sure she's fine,"
The Chief switched her office lights off, earning a disgruntled noise of, "Hey!"
"Go home," he said forcefully.
You blinked sleepily as she shook your shoulder, groggy and tired.
"Come on, kid, we're going home," she said gruffly, grabbing her keys and her jacket, waiting for you.
You drowsily sat in the car, elbow leaning on the windowsill as you rested your cheek on your fist, dozing off slowly. You felt Agnes ruffle your hair gently.
“You did good today, kid,” she said quietly, as a quiet song played on the radio.
You smiled a little, tilting your head to fix your gaze on her. “Careful, you might say you love me, next,” you half-joked, earning a gentle punch to your shoulder.
She parked the car and got out of the driver’s seat, humming to herself still as you followed, still sleepy. You rested your forehead on her shoulder, slipping your hand into hers slowly. She sighed softly at that, but allowed it.
The house was quiet, you could sense some kind of odd energy around it—just like you’d felt an odd energy around everything else after meeting Rio at the cafe.
Almost like nothing was real…
You felt Agnes pull her hand from yours, saying, “I’ll set dinner in sometime,” she kept the distance between you both again. She went in his room, her movements slow and slightly sluggish.
You hated that room.
You heard a knock on the door as you lounged on the couch peacefully.
“What?” Came Agnes’ irritated voice.
“Did you know that it is a universally acknowledged truth that a lady cop cannot be good at her job and have a healthy personal life at the same time?” Came Rio’s voice. You heard the sound of pizza in a box. “Hungry?”
You sat up instantly, making space for Agnes on the couch, grinning when Rio came in.
“Hey, trouble,” she winked, taking a seat in the armchair, her blazer set aside and sitting in a comfy position, one leg perched on her knee, elbows resting comfortably on the armrests.
“Hi,” you smiled at her.
Agnes came with two beers and a bottle of cranberry juice for you. You accepted it with a slight smile towards her, still annoyed by before.
Soon, she started telling Rio cop stories like she used to do for you and him.
“So she’s a rookie, granted, but I say to her, ‘Has the suspect been seen in the last 24 hours?’” Agnes narrates, a laugh in her tone. “And she says, ‘Only on TikTok.’ And then I say, ‘Well, did you learn anything?’ And she says, ‘That I was totally using the wrong foundation brush.’”
You had taken a seat on the carpet in front of Rio, your back resting against her leg as she used her free hand to toy with the soft strands of your hair. You heard her chuckle and glanced up right when she smiled. You liked that expression. And when you heard Agnes laughing you liked it even more.
“Anyway…I have a lead in the case,” Agnes said.
“Oh do you? A lead which who gave you?” You raised a brow.
“Take it easy, trouble,” the FBI agent smiled. “That’s not why I came over,” Rio said. But she paused, before nodding. “But go ahead,”
“There was a car wreck, about an hour before time of death,” she stated.
“Where?” Rio asked.
“Eastview.”
“Eastview? See, I thought you turned into a pumpkin that far afield,”
She smirked. “Hey, I travel. I’m worldly,”
Rio chuckled. “Where have you traveled?“
You felt the answer on the tip of your tongue, but strangely you couldn’t tell past last year when you’d gone for a summer camp past Eastview.
Sensing the sudden shift in focus, Rio brought you both back. “Okay, so what about the car wreck?”
“Bloodstain in the back seat,” she stated, an odd look in her eye.
“You think that’s how they moved her?”
“Front two airbags deployed,”
“Maybe two perps?”
“Maybe,”
Rio squinted. “But you don’t like it,”
“My gut tells me they’re related,” Agnes shook her head, “But I can’t shake this feeling I’m seeing it wrong,”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah,”
“Do you remember why you hate me?”
A pause. An uncomfortable, odd pause.
“No,”
“Are you hiding evidence?” She raised a brow.
“No,” she sighed.
“Well, you’re only lying to yourself—“ before she could finish, there was a loud clatter from upstairs. You moved to go investigate with her, but she shook her head.
“Stay here,” she scowled. “I don’t want you getting hurt in case the guy’s armed, that more paperwork for me,”
“Oh how thoughtful,” you rolled your eyes.
As she went upstairs to investigate, you sat on the couch again, patting it for Rio. “Wanna sit?”
She chuckled. “Sure thing,”
You turned on F.R.I.E.N.D.S, letting it play on a low volume, resting your body against hers. You lay your head in her lap eventually, letting her hand gently rub your arm soothingly.
Her voice was soft as she spoke. “Nena,” she said. “How’re the voices?”
“Loud,” you mumbled, shifting your knees up to your chest a little, an arm wrapping around them.
They got steadily louder as she spoke, making you wince and squirm slightly.
“Easy,” she warned.
“They’re so fucking loud…” you hissed, irritated. The objects in the room began to rattle slightly.
“You’re still Y/n,” she said softly. “But not this version,”
“The fuck do you mean?” You asked, irritated.
“I mean that she kept you trapped,”
“Who? Mom? Yeah no shit,”
She chuckled but shook her head. “No, not her. You remember her name,”
Flashes of something went through your mind—you saw everything in black and white at first. You felt the world tilt and bend, felt nausea rise at the back of your throat.
“She’s kept you in this prison,” she said softly. “She’s just kept you like this—docile, dormant…”
“No, no,” you shook your head. “Mom said the voices are just some psychological thing—“
“Listen to the voices,” Rio urged. “Hear them closely,”
Another flash of something—an empty street, crying boys, a woman in red with hair the colour of…scarlet.
“Wanda—“ you choked out, gasping. The voices slowed from a cacophony to different voices, familiar voices from your past.
All screaming into your ears one thing: Snap out of it.
“That’s right, nena,” she whispered. “Keep trying,”
Your eyes went dark, black throughout the whites and irises, smoky black magic curling at your fingertips. You looked around you at the still-bending reality.
“What’s real?” You gasped out, feeling the magic pulse with your blood. You felt complete for the first time in three years.
“She’s kept you imprisoned for three years, locking away your ability,” Rio said. “You’re not just angry at Agatha for these centuries of hurt, you’re angry at Wanda for making you feel…”
“Powerless,” you completed. “I’ve been feeling powerless because of her,”
She nodded, a sly smile on her face. “You wanna try something with me?”
You nodded, grinning somewhat evilly. “Sure,”
“First, I’m gonna have to project on your mom’s mind, wanna help with that?”
You nodded, devious smile on your face. “I thought you’d never ask,”
Her smile matched yours instantly. “That’s my girl,”
You saw Agnes entering the room with a random boy, making you frown in utter confusion, before you used your power to help Rio get in her head. While you did so, you felt clearer on your own powers.
You were just like Mami.
Dark magic, soul magic. The kind where you could stop a person’s breathing and pluck the very thing that made them human right from their system. The kind where you could change your face to anyone who’d had a beating heart at will. The kind where you could shake the devil’s hand while playing with the angels.
Life and Death, you were the balance.
You felt time ticking by slowly but surely, you headed up to your room in a daze. You saw it clearly now—you understood just how senile you and your mother had been acting the past few days.
“Sleep,” you heard Rio’s voice in your head.
You did.
The next morning you woke up to sunlight streaming through your curtains, the day was warm. You squirmed out from under the covers, noticing yourself in the mirror. You smirked a little. You looked visibly warmer, as if lifting the spell had breathed some extra life into you. Ironic.
Just to check if last night was real, you moved your fingers like your mother had taught you, lifting a pencil and placing it down simply. You grinned with clear, childlike excitement.
“I’m back, baby,” you smirked.
However, your thoughts were interrupted by a loud, angry scream from downstairs.
You nearly fell as you ran down, knife in hand already. It lowered instantly as you saw Agatha in the room.
Naked.
Your own scream matched hers as you covered your eyes with your hands. “Mom get some fucking clothes on, you disgusting woman!”
“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes. “I assume she got you out, too?”
“Obviously,” you grumbled.
“What’s up your ass this morning?”
“I don’t know, maybe the fact that the first thing I see upon being fully conscious is my mother standing in the living room stark-staring NAKED?”
Before you could comprehend her fast reply, she had dashed out of the house, making you groan in annoyance. You ran out after her, but not before you pulled on a jacket to hide your face with.
“Mom, mama, mother, please—“ you pleaded, looking through her rather than at her, trying to fix how awkward this was.
“Oh! Whoa!” You heard Herb exclaim. “What? What is going on? Hey, Miss Agnes, you—you feeling okay today?”
“Stop talking,” she snapped. “How long have I been here?”
“Uh… What?” You saw him put his hand up to cover…things from his vision.
“How long have I been living in this cesspool of a town?” She asked none to politely.
“You don’t remember?” He asked, baffled.
“Yet you remember and retain the same attitude as ‘Agnes’,” you scoffed.
“Catch me up,” she scowled, ignoring you.
“About three years,” he nodded.
“Three years?” She exclaimed. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she realised. “Wanda,”
“We try not to say her name,” he mumbled.
“Ugh!” She exclaimed. “Because you’re cowards, because you’re sheep. What have I been doing all this time?”
“Being bitchy to really nice people, for starters,” you rolled your eyes.
Herb chuckled but continued just as nervously. "Well, you’ve mostly been a good neighbor. A bit too casual with your boundaries…"
Triggered, she snapped, "Call me “nosy,” I’ll cut out your tongue."
"How polite," you grumbled.
"Yeah...you haven’t been yourself the past few days," he admitted. "Almost like you got bit by the true crime bug. Now that's normal for Y/n, obviously, but you? Nah,"
"So…So what? I’ve just been spouting nonsense and you’ve just been humoring me?" She scowled.
"I mean, folks been trying to help out, you know, stopping by and bringing you groceries and checking up on you," he explained, his eyes not meeting hers.
"Oh, I get it," Agatha chuckled sarcastically, her eyes on Dottie and her husband, who were trying to get their daughter back inside frantically. "Librarian. Chief of police," Her eyes landed on Norm, who jogged backwards upon meeting her gaze. "Oh! Jeweler,"
As she spoke, Herb tried covering her up with his jacket--a futile thing, really, since she threw it off her body instantly.
"This is where hope goes to die," she sneered.
"You know, um...besides the fact that you’re, um…" he gestured at her with his head. "You seem pretty lucid for a change. Aggressive, even. Powerful."
"Oh god, please don't feed into her ego," you begged, irritated.
"What did you say?" She asked softly, eyes drifting to him.
"I said, “Powerful,” but look, Agnes, if…"
"It’s Agatha,"
"Agnes' more annoying, bitchy counterpart," you interjected, earning a smack upside your head.
"Okay. Agatha. Yeah," he nodded, awkwardly. "Can you put on some clothes?" She groaned angrily and stalked off into the house, with you following in embarrassment. "‘Cause you… ‘Cause you’re naked..."
You stormed after her in anger, slamming the door shut behind you. "Mom, we need to talk--"
"No. No!" You heard her exclaim as you noticed how her hands were devoid of one very, very familiar thing. Her purple.
You shook your head. Inside, you were a mess of emotions. You were shocked, scared, angry, confused, and exhausted all in one. You hated this. Hated how she still didn't give you the time of day, how she constantly went after the same thing over and over again. Like always. You grabbed her wrist sharply.
"Mom stop!" You exclaimed, holding her back.
"Did she take yours, too?" She cut you off, her hand yanking away from your grip.
"No, I can, unfortunately, still see the dead, feel the dead, and control...hm...oh yeah, the dead," you rolled your eyes. "But that's not the point! The point is--and she's gone."
Agatha had gone back down to her basement, which, in Wanda's hex, was a whole witchy lair. Now it was just the laundry room. The pentagram was gone, your special little 'quiet corner' with barricade runes was gone, the comforting scent of incense and magic was overpowered by the smell of washing machine grease and Tide Pods.
You saw a bunny hop out from under the washing machine, and Agatha was quick to lift him up and cuddle him close. "I got mugged, mister. She took every little bit of power I had and left me with household appliances,"
Her gaze landed on you. "We gotta get back on top,"
You rolled your eyes. "So much for a normal suspension,"
From upstairs, you both heard a loud thudding noise, and immediately, you ran up and yanked open the coat closet door to see...a boy? With duct tape on his mouth and legs?
"MOM!" You exclaimed, horrified. "Come ON! Have some basic human sense!"
Nonchalantly she shrugged, "So that arrest was maybe more of a kidnapping,"
"You think, lady?!"
"Keep it civil, little miss," she warned, before pointing at the boy. "But if you’re real and not a figment of my imprisoned mind, then that means…"
The door burst open, splintering and completely broken off its hinges, making you duck and cover your head, grabbing Señor Scratchy, and holding him tight to keep him safe. You placed him under the hallways table, keeping him away from the broken glass and wood. Agatha got blown back by the force of the impact, falling in a heap on the floor.
“Shit. Mom!” Your exclaimed, about to help, but she put a hand out to stop you.
“Don’t!” She snapped, making your features darken, as you stopped.
You saw a figure clad in black, a familiar woman, and your heart leapt at the sight of her. She flew at your mother before she stood with her knife poised at the base of Agatha’s collarbone, the woman pinned with the force of it, where her pulse beat steadily against the skin.
“I’ve missed you,” Rio giggled diabolically.
“I hate you,” Agatha snarled.
“Just like you do everyone you love,” you scoffed, shrugging. “Hi, Mami,”
“Hey nena,” she replied, eyes fixed on your mother. “How long has it been, Agatha?” Rio asked, pushing harsher against her grip.
“Not sure,” she groaned, you could sense her seething.
“Since you acquired the Darkhold, you hid behind all that dark magic, but then you lost it, and now…” she chuckled darkly, the tip of her knife kissing the skin of her collarbone, making Agatha wince. “Touch. You’re vulnerable,”
She eased, “Only physically,”
In moments, she grabbed Rio’s head, slammed it into a wall, making you wince as the knife clattered to the side. You winced as Agatha gripped the blade against Rio’s blow, the blood in the xarpet smelling metallic and nauseating.
“Do you remember pain?” Rio gasped. “It kind of tickles, doesn’t it?”
Chuckling dryly, Agatha panted, “Coochie coochie coo,”
After a good minute of them struggling like cats, with Agatha pinning Rio down by the throat, you made a slight attempt to help.
You grabbed your mother by the shoulders and held them apart, angry.
“Will you two hopeless lesbians just cut it out?!” You asked, your palms pressed against each of their chests. “This is fucking infuriating!”
“Stay out of this, Y/n,” Agatha snarled, her eyes on Rio.
“It’s best for you, nena,” added Rio.
“Well how about we be a normal family and perhaps go for dinner instead of you trying to kill each other!”
“You can’t kill me,” your mom hissed at Rio. “You can’t kill me. It’s not allowed,”
“Maybe I can’t kill you,” Rio said, angrily, blowing her back into the cabinet. “But I can make you wish you were dead,”
Agatha groaned, sitting up. “Wait, wait, wait,” she gasped. “This isn’t what you want. Me without power,”
You shrugged at Rio, mumbling, “Maybe it’s better if she didn’t have any power, selfish bitch,”
Agatha laughed, glaring at you just a little. “This is undignified,” she looked at Rio. “Don’t you want me at my best?” She stood, you noticed her her voice droppin to that horrible, infuriating, manipulative whisper. “Admit it. You prefer me—“
“Horizontal?” Rio interrupted. After a pause, she added “In a grave?”
“Formidable,” Agatha corrected.
“So take my power,” she shrugged.
Your mother chuckled humourlessly, nodding at her. “That’s cute. But you know that would kill me. Just…let me get my purple back. And then come find me,”
“I am not the only one that wants to see you dead,” Rio scoffed. “Wants to see you burn. Or hang or drown.”
Disconcerted, Agatha tried to lighten the statement, saying, “There are no new options?”
“I could just sit back and watch,” Rio shrugged.
Slowly, like a cat prowling to its prey, she approached her, voice but a whisper. “Come on. You love it. The anticipation…”
“Okay, Agatha,” Rio conceded, looking down and shaking her head with a chuckle. “But I’ll be sure to tell them where to find you.”
“Who, specifically?” She and you asked in unison.
“Mmm! The worst of them. The Salem Seven,” Rio said. Noticing your panicked expression, she added, “Not you, nena. Just your mother,”
Turning back to agatha she shrugged. “I expect you’ll see them at sundown. After all these centuries, Agatha Harkness will finally meet her end. Ugh! It really warms the heart,”
“You don’t have a heart,” Agatha snapped.
Pulling her close all of a sudden, Rio spoke in a low voice, full of conviction. “Yes, I do. It’s black. And it beats for you,”
She lifted the hand from which blood was dripping and in one long, clean swipe of her tongue, healed it.
You made a face with disgust. “Mami, ew,” you muttered. “You’re so gay, my god,”
Rio laughed, shooting Agatha a look, squeezing your cheeks with one hand gently and quickly before she whispered, “I’ll see you sometime soon, nena.”
As she went to the doorway, she glanced at Agatha, shrugging, “Te veo,” before leaving.
You both stood there in silence for a good moment, before you asked awkwardly, “So…what do we do about the door?”
She looked at you, baffled, her chin held delicately between her thumb and forefinger in thought. “The door?”
“Yeah, she blew it off its hinges,”
“Do you see the state of my sitting room?”
You glanced around at the catastrophic sight. She had a point.
“Yeah, I’m grabbing myself some breakfast, it is far too early for me to deal with…this,” you shrugged, going to the kitchen. “You want anything?”
Agatha didn’t respond, clearly thinking about Rio’s appearance. With a frustrated groan, she was about to stomp away, when she heard some indistinct mumbling from her closet.
Yanking it open, with you behind her, cereal bowl in hand and munching on Lucky Charms, she sighed at the sight of the boy with his mouth and limbs taped up.
“Oh, right, you,”
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@eletricheart , @misty-melody , @mmemalwa , @skittlebum , @lexietargaryen , @natashasmuse , @angelbeingatitspurest , @skittledemon, @wandasreallover , @gaylorvader , @lovelyy-moonlight , @lizziescutiepie , @rosierogie , @lanadelreyaesthic, @circe143 , @babybeeelle
hello my bao buns! sorry for the delay, i hope you liked this one! let me know what you think <3
love, jaya
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sunderwight · 11 months ago
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SVSSS "no Abyss" fluff AU where Shen Qingqiu just keeps accidentally proposing to a full grown disciple Luo Binghe in ways that don't register to him, but do register to Binghe, but Binghe also knows that his Shizun is clueless and doesn't actually mean it, so he's trapped in a hell of constantly getting what he desires most and fighting the urge to take advantage of the situation in order to actually claim it.
For instance, it turns out that PIDW has a knock-off version of Valentine's Day thanks to one really ill-planned VIP chapter. Shen Qingqiu found that one so egregious even he mostly scrubbed it from his mental records, but the long and short of it is that in the PIDW chocolate exists, but it's a symbolic treat that is only meant to be given to someone you intend to marry.
Of course, Shen Qingqiu discovers chocolate in PIDW and IMMEDIATELY hands it over to Luo Binghe, because he wants to see how Binghe's magnificent cooking skills can utilize this ingredient. Also he wants bon bons and this seems like the only way he's gonna get any in this lifetime.
Naturally, Binghe does make delicious bon bons, all the while fighting down the urge to be like "you proposed so we're getting married now, no take backs!"
Shizun eats the chocolates and Binghe counts slowly backwards from ten and reminds himself that getting what he wants by way of trickery would ultimately deny him what he wants most, which is for Shen Qingqiu to choose him of his own volition.
And of course, this shit just keeps happening. Somehow Shen Qingqiu keeps "forgetting" (read: subconsciously repressing) the little details about various proposal customs in PIDW (of which there are A LOT thanks to all the wife acquisitions) and proposing to Binghe almost constantly. This part of the world has a special ritual proposal wine? Better give some to Binghe! This demonic cult requires one to present a specific monster kill to their intended? Shen Qingqiu just so happened to kill one such monster himself and now he's given it over to Binghe to claim the parts (Binghe's cultivation would make better use of them!) They're visiting a neighboring sect where couples traditionally tie their wrists together with a particular type of rope as a symbol of engagement? Somehow, someway, Shen Qingqiu is going to find a good reason to tie himself to Binghe with the betrothal rope.
Not only is this dance giving Luo Binghe intense mixed feelings, and causing him to lie awake at night trying to figure out if Shen Qingqiu somehow does actually know what he's doing, and wants Binghe to bamboozle him into a marriage (or is that just wishful thinking??), it also causes him ever-more stress whenever SQQ goes on a mission with anyone else.
Especially Liu Qingge.
What if he does the clueless not-proposing to Liu Qingge? What if Liu Qingge proves to be less strong-willed than Luo Binghe (absolutely possible) and "accepts"? What if he's stupid enough to not figure out that Shen Qingqiu is a clueless idiot, and thinks it's genuine?
Shizun might marry him just to avoid having an awkward conversation!
Anyway things come to a head when finally, for once, Luo Binghe is the one who does the accidental proposal. And this time Shen Qingqiu does notice, and he gets all flustered and scolds Binghe to "be more careful" and "not waste such gestures on this old master, or anyone Binghe doesn't want taking advantage!" and Luo Binghe, who has aged one thousand decades in the past few years, still nobly resists the urge to lay out all the times Shizun has made this exact same "mistake" towards him and instead just confesses. Shoots his shot. Now or never!
He almost immediately regrets it because he had a whole plan for how to slowly ease Shizun into the idea over the course of several years, and he's prepared to be rejected now that he's fucked that up. Because he knows his master is delicate about stuff like this. Why else would he be so atypically obtuse?
But, well. Shen Qingqiu always said that the most realistic thing about the harem was that no one in their right mind would turn down a marriage proposal from Luo Binghe.
So he just, uh, says yes?
Binghe's like, you mean this whole time all I had to do was be the one to ask?!
But also he's really too happy to give a shit about the particulars either. They will have a beautiful wedding! No take backs. If SQQ gets cold feet then Luo Binghe has a list and compiled evidence of fifty million marriage proposals from him, so now he definitely has to follow through!
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asidian · 7 months ago
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Alright. It is time. Buckle up.
Why you should be watching Dead Boy Detectives: the targeted-specifically-at my-readers edition.
Meet the leads, our two ghost boys:
Edwin Payne: Fussy, repressed intellectual type from the Edwardian era. Exceedingly gay for his partner and best friend. Tortured in hell for seventy years on a technicality because he was ritually sacrificed as a prank gone wrong. Endearingly awful at people and dealing with emotions or his own wants.
Charles Rowland: Impulsive, people-pleasing wildcard from the 80s. Heart eyes 24/7 at his best friend but has zero self-awareness. Badly abused by his asshole of a father. Beaten to death because he saved a kid from bullies. Endearingly awful at sorting his own emotions or talking about his problems.
Some highlights:
/slaps hood you can fit so much trauma in these two
Both leads get sobbing breakdowns that happen on screen. The actors are incredible at crying
Both leads get much-needed hugs
The absolute devotion between the two of them. The shared history that lives in their dialogue and how they work together like people who have been each other's Most Important Person for literal decades
I mean, I'm talking in-canon Orpheus and Eurydice reference level of devotion here
The protective way Charles puts himself physically between Edwin and damn near every threat in the show
They're just fun together. Their interactions and banter and how they work as a team is a delight
Their shared plot arc literally involves them learning to talk to each other and communicate more so that they can be there for one another about their respective issues
The symbolism. God. They are metaphorically and literally one another's light in the darkness
But what about stuff that isn't the main duo? Just wait, there's more:
This show is unabashedly, unapologetically queer. It's there in the text and the subtext. The whole show lives and breathes it
So many good, complex, well-written female characters. The Bechdel test gets blown straight out of the water in episode one and they never look back. Headstrong amnesiac psychic learning to be a better person! Quirky meta commentary matchmaker! Cynical lesbian butcher! Delightfully sadistic witch! They are all amazing.
[audience voice] But I'm here for the hurt/comfort. How can I whump ghosts? Worry not, my friends. Canon has you covered. Not only are there ways, there are ways that happen on-screen. The hurt/comfort and rescue are also on-screen. Yes, it is amazing
Absolute chaos, really cool supernatural cases and creatures, a surprising amount of humor, charming writing, and a cast that absolutely nails it on the acting and chemistry
There is an extremely suggestive trickster type who is also the king of cats. He's a cat in human form. He hits on Edwin nonstop. Charles gets blisteringly jealous
All of the leads have well-thought-through, fully developed, emotional character arcs. They're all messy and flawed and sometimes lash out in their pain, but at turns can be incredibly supportive and kind and loyal
A character who is a crow who is also a boy, who is tortured by his witch/creator and also is crushing hard on one of the leads
There are so many incredible details in the setting, costume choices, prop decisions, etc. that you only catch after you know what it's laying the groundwork for. The level of care that went into this show is phenomenal
It's only eight episodes. The time investment barrier to entry could not possibly be lower
Anyway, tl;dr, if any of this sounds appealing to you, you should give this show a watch.
Dead Boy Detectives is well worth your time. It's easily my favorite show in years.
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roach-works · 9 months ago
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ok im waffling on about fallout instead of having breakfast but i saw a criticism of how the prisoners were treated that's stuck with me.
spoilers!
so i think the criticism wasn't incorrect, per se: it condemned the way the show portrayed the vault dweller's naive intention to rehabilitate their murderous captives. it found fault with a common, and horrible, message that tv shows like to say, which is that carcerial violence and even the death penalty is the only effective way to deal with criminals, who are a fundamentally Bad category of human. im sick of that message too! but i think that wasn't what was going on here, actually.
so like, the vault dwellers had only ever experienced violent loss the once, and didn't really know how to cope other than denial and repression of the ordeal. but they were all hopeful and enthusiastic that their prisoners, the invaders that came to kill them all and take their stuff, could be eventually welcomed into the community as their comrades. the champions of this cause were nebbishy dorks and painfully out of touch academics. this is pretty normal for how prison reformers are portrayed, if extremely fucking annoying for those of us who ARE in favor of prison reform.
but so of course when the son of the former overseer, Norm, speaks up and suggests killing the prisoners, because why should they share resources with invaders who explicitly wanted to keep hurting them? why should they show mercy to their attackers? everyone is appalled by this suggestion. because they had to reinvent the whole concept of vengeance right then and there, because grudges and cycles of violence are anathema to a bottle society like theirs. they have been raised all their lives to forgive and forget and now, put to the test, they're recommitting to this ethos: get along, let the past go, look towards the future, believe the best of everyone.
but the prisoners die, anyway. the prisoners are killed with rat poison. and the thing is that Norm who suggested it didn't do it himself. and the prison guard who's blamed for it, even though she privately agreed with Norm that the prisoners are dangerous and unforgiveable, she didn't do it either. it's not a moment of triumphant, cathartic vengeance and it doesn't prove that there's no way to negotiate with terrorists and invaders but kill them like vermin because that's not what the message is meant to be.
the message is that norm stands there in the middle of these inconvenient prisoners, these corpses dressed in his own people's uniforms, and he looks at the new overseer. and he knows that she killed them, and she knows that he knows. she wanted him to know. this is her message and he's reading her loud and clear. and he doesn't look like a guy who's just been backed up by authority, who's just been validated in his desire for the ultimate control over those who have wronged him.
he's scared and pale and the music is ominous as fuck. and he's inside the cell, he's directly in the middle of it.
because what just happened is that he realized his entire society is being held prisoner, and the overseer is the one with the rat poison. and that he doesn't know, anymore, what freedom and safety and justice actually mean, just that he doesn't have them and he doesn't know where to find them.
that's what that scene meant. not that rehabilitative justice is a pathetic delusion of people who have no idea how to make hard choices.
but that before you advocate for killing prisoners, you might want to see how big that prison is, first.
and which side of the bars you're standing on.
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