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devilsrecreation · 7 months ago

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More thoughts on TLG episodes

The Savannah Summit:

First things first, major kudos to Makuu for actually being responsible and caring about what’s best for his float

You really can’t blame Kion and everyone else to be super skeptical about Makuu. I know he changed for the better, but he’s done…a lot since he beat Pua

“but to invite him to the Savannah Summit? With all these other peaceful animals?”—I hate to break it to you, Kion, but just bc an animal is an herbivore doesn’t mean they’re peaceful and friendly. If anything, it means survivor

Crocs at the Summit worked with Pua cuz everybody loves him 😎

“Makuu has more enemies than friends!”—So does Bunga lmao

The song is great. I love how everyone seems annoyed at first but near the end, it’s all 🎶Kumbaya, my lord! 🎶. Except Makuu…dude looks like he’s lowkey regretting his life choices he did NOT ask for a bs song

I’m totally on Makuu’s side. He was genuinely trying to be civil here, especially when it comes to Bupu

At least Beshte was trying to be the mediator cuz he looks at Makuu AND Bupu, Kion was just being kinda speciesist

Shut up, Bupu, you started the whole thing

Vuruga Vuruga saying “buffalo eat whatever we want” is actually pretty accurate. They, like other animals, don’t care. I read that buffalo will occasionally eat insects if it were an option. Even Twiga could sucking on a bone if she wanted to. Seriously, look it up

If Zazu had a nickel for every time a rhino used him as a chair, he’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice (great nod to the OG movie)

Rafiki is such a mood “not the official painting” you old ass gremlin/aff

I remember Athena P criticizing Simba for blaming Kion about ruining the Summit after Makuu understandably leaves and I agree. Wtf Simba he’s 10. Go easy on him, come on 😭

The part that irks me the most is that when Mufasa asks “What has Makuu done to make you think this way?”, Kion says “Nothing, really”. BRO WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘NOTHING REALLY’?! I understand Mufasa meant what Makuu has done today but there are a LOT of things Makuu’s done in the past that Kion should have told his grandpa. In fact, here’s a whole list:

-Taking over Big Springs when he became leader, resulting in all the animals to scatter

-Challenging kids to fight

-Taking over the flood plains

-Trying to eat Basi which would have been just him being a crocodile if not for the fact that the reason is so he wouldn’t have to follow any rules (says so on the wiki)

-TAKING NALA HOSTAGE (seriously did Simba even KNOW about that? Did Nala or Kion bother to tell him?)

-Generally being a dick to animals

Makuu I know you did nothing wrong in this episode, but you can’t blame Kion for acting this way

I’m not placing any blame on Mtoto. He’s a good boy and all he did was tell the guard what he heard and that’s it

Twiga and Vuruga Vuruga coming up with the trap doesn’t surprise me. Cape buffalo are actually really vengeful irl so it makes sense how she wanted to teach Makuu a lesson. They ain’t called “Black Death” or “Widow Maker” for nothing

It’s cool how Makuu took the prank well. Respect.

Wonder how Makuu felt about animals fighting over him lmao?

Let Sleeping Crocs Lie

Once again this episode would be VERY different if my oc Piga was still alive

Kiburi has a right to be mad. I’m not excusing what he does later in the episode but I’d be pissed too if someone woke me up

Okay but Nduli sleeping next to Kiburi is adorable. Adds to my hc how close they are

Serious question: Why exactly can’t the crocs go back to sleep after they’ve been woken up? The obvious answer is bc it drives the plot forward, but is it true in actual crocodiles? I kinda wanna know the scientific reason

Good on Makuu for going the pacifism route. He’d really do anything for his float

Love how Kiburi was like “Yeah yeah, whatever you say” but the second Makuu left, he was like “ANARCHY!”

Idk if any of you caught this, but when Ushari’s like “we reptiles will rule the pridelands under your leadership, right?” Scar actually hesitated before going “sure bud”. That makes me think he was going to betray Ushari the moment he and his army get rid of Simba and the Lion Guard

Crocs really DO need a lot of water, otherwise their lives are on the line. Makuu was really more concerned than upset

“KIBURI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”—Fighting a child, what’s it look like

Side hc: I like to think something similar happened with Pua, Piga, and Kujivunia. Pua saw Piga antagonizing some poor young animal and he was all “Piga! What in the Pridelands do you think you’re doing?” and Kujivunia (who happened to be there), with her typical sarcasm was like “Performing a dance number, Pua 🙄”

There go the skinks again. Njano with his cuteness and Shupavu…doing her best Grinch face

“At least you’ll be close to all your friends!”Awww Beshte trying to be positive 🥺

Kiburi saying “we crocs deserve better!” brings me back to my hc that Kiburi had good intentions (again, until further in the episode), he just went about it the wrong way. He’s almost like an activist in a way. He’s not trying to be selfish, he just wanted a better watering hole. Now going as far as to rule the Pridelands…..yeah too far

The background crocodiles who were like 😦 when Kiburi called for the mashindano are so me. I’m the one going “Ooooooh shit!”

Still not getting over that super gay conversation between Kiburi and Ushari

STILL CAN’T GET OVER HOW KIBURI AND HIS FLOAT LAUGH AAAAA (Neema’s laugh tho)

Nduli looks so derpy I love him

I LOVE HOW SELF-AWARE TAMKA IS WHAT AN ICON

Lmao Nduli just gave up like “Fuck it you win”

Love the parallels of Makuu pinning down Kiburi like he did to Pua

Kiburi, I love you but what the hell did you expect? You literally confessed to like 500 animals about your plan and then you get surprised when Simba and Makuu banish you? What did you think was gonna happen? You got way too cocky, I swear

Saying this again, Tamka and Nduli looked worried/traumatized when they were exiled

“Now you’re calling me a reptile?”—My love, you ARE a reptile. I thought crocodiles were supposed to be smart omg

Kiburi’s actually showing emotion for the first time

OMG JANJA HEY BABY HOW ARE YOU?

Full disclosure: “I have a plan” is mediocre at best. It has nothing on Be Prepared. That being said, I love Kiburi’s “Aiight I’m in” smile

That’s pretty much it. Maybe I’ll do more in the future

#just me rambling #i have too many thoughts #these are all my lighthearted opinion #the lion guard

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ju-vondy · 5 months ago

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Me what, kitten? (A short Jason X Candy headcanon scene) (OC)

Count of words: 1.996

Warning: Things get kind of hot. Not actual smut, but pretty intense feelings lmao

Also, This is an excerpt from one of the latest Chapters on my Fanfic "Dancing With The Devil" published on A03 under my username Ju_Assis and I'd be very happy if you want to read and leave a kudo in order to make this author happy :D

Good reading, sassy readers!

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Before Jason could finish his sentence, Candy interrupted him with her own dose of determination and challenge: “We agreed to forget it. So I did. You made me swear it would never happen again.” she countered, her voice firm but filled with a mix of anger and fear. “And you know what? I deeply regret giving in to your stupid charm back that day. I’ve always hated this ‘one-night-stand’ thing and-”

“Then why did you give in?” Jason raised his voice. Then, he laughed in realization “I wouldn’t be surprised if all this hatred and disdain you show for me is, actually, a mask to hide something more.”

Jason stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Candy's, his breathing heavy and irregular. His hands trembled slightly, betraying the intensity of his emotions. "Did you hear me, Candy?" he nearly growled, the anger and confusion mixing in his voice. "Maybe this hatred is just a disguise to hide what you really feel for me. Because you don’t have courage enough to confess your lust for me."

He stopped, surprised by his own words. Damn. Had he really said that? Damn. It was exactly how he felt, but he never intended to admit it out loud. He was always the someone wearing a mask to protect his feelings. But now the words had already been spoken, revealing a vulnerability he had always tried to hide.

Candy let out a frustrated grunt and said “I only agreed to fuck with you because it was a moment of weakness, okay? Drinking makes me prone to making stupid decisions. And apparently, horny as hell," Candy exhaled, irritated. Her voice sound more desperate than she intend to. “And besides, I thought I’d forget everything the next day. It was a mistake and… I’ve moved on. That’s it, Jason.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening at Candy’s resistance. However, amid the confrontation, he couldn’t help but notice a redness spreading across her face, a silent proof that her words were just a bluff.

“If you had really moved on, Candy, you wouldn’t be so nervous now,” Jason declared, his voice filled with a seductive challenge. “You want more, don’t you?”

The heavy silence hung between them, charged with the intensity of their exchange of words and emotions. It was as if they were trapped in a stalemate, each clinging to their convictions while the world around them seemed to collapse. But despite the tension surrounding them, there was something more, something that interconnected them in a way that neither of them could fully understand yet.

Candy met Jason’s intense gaze, her own feelings in turmoil as she fought against the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Jason watched intently as Candy’s chest rose and fell, breathless, a palpable tension emanating from her. His eyes narrowed slightly as he awaited her response, knowing the truth was coming closer and closer.

She lifted her chin with determination, her expression defiant. “Wanting more of you would be the last thing on my mind,” she retorted, her voice filled with sharp sarcasm. “Especially knowing the kind of person you are.”

“Admit it, Candy,” Jason whispered, moving slowly towards her, making her back away. “You. Want. More…”

She retreated and he advanced, each step filled with the promise of something more. She backed up until there was nowhere else to go: Candy’s back hit the wall. She swallowed hard, tense. Jason raised an eyebrow at her.

And then, in a moment of pure impulsiveness, she grabbed his tie and pulled him closer. “You…” But she couldn't say the words she had in mind. She couldn't say no to him and she blamed the alcohol. Of course it was the alcohol which made her lean in towards him, seeking for his mouth, wasn’t it?

Jason saw the mix of feelings that were going through Candy’s face and chuckled softly. He brought his thumb up to her chin, a gentle yet firm touch that sent shivers down her spine. “Me what, kitten?”

And there she was.

Suddenly, Candy couldn’t think straight anymore. The way he pronounced that word. Kitten. He knew how to make her so irritated and... Candy grunted, as if that would stop her from feeling the shivers that Jason provoked in her. She couldn’t even remember how to breathe. Not while being so near to him, his smell...

She pulled him even closer while a red alert sounded in her mind nonstop. As if the angels and devils were discussing in her braincells. She ignored it, ignored everything. Because, suddenly, the only thing that mattered was kissing him again...

Because his kiss was like a drug.

And Candy had been in withdrawal for too long.

She grabbed his shirt and their lips met in a searing, intense kiss, an explosion of desire that consumed them completely. Jason almost lost his balance, barely believing that Candy took the initiative this time. Amid the whirlwind of emotions and sensations, they surrendered to the heat of the moment, losing themselves in each other in a frenzy of ectasy and desire while their bodies were moving in a frantic dance of desire, growls, and touches. He gently pushed her against the small round table near the sofa, his hands exploring every inch of her skin as they called each other silly names.

“Stupid,” Candy murmured against his lips, her hands gripping Jason’s hair.

“Ridiculous,” he replied, his hands sliding down her back, pulling her closer.

They stumbled, moving toward the pool. Jason lifted her and placed her on the soft surface, their kisses becoming more urgent and desperate. “I can’t stand you,” Candy whispered, her voice filled with desire and frustration. “You're unbearable”

“The feeling is mutual, then,” Jason replied, his hands quickly unbuttoning her cropped. She didn’t complain.

Jason’s hands slid into Candy’s right breast, drawing a moan of pleasure from her. He then kissed the skin of her chest, his voice a low growl. “When will you admit that you can’t stay away from me anymore, Candy?”

Candy’s breath hitched as his lips traveled along her skin. “Me? It seems it’s you who are always stalking me like a damn psychopath.” She started to unbutton his shirt.

Jason smirked, his lips brushing against her ear. “What did you expect? You’re like a drug. Your smell, your body, your fucking witty arguments and even your damn presence... Everything. You know?” He gently nibbled her earlobe and let his hand slide down her back, tracing a line with his fingers, making her moan softly. “Oh, I like and I hate it at the same time…”

“I can’t believe this is happening again.” Candy was breathless. “Me and you.”

“It is different now.” Jason replied, raising her skirt.

“Really?” she asked, her voice tinged with doubt, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to read him. Different how?

“Yes, because we’ll both remember.” The dark-haired answered and his eyes softened as he saw a flicker of hesitation in Candy's eyes. He gave her a small, understanding smile. Then he leaned toward her, lowering his voice to a near whisper: “Ah, you can’t decide if you want to spend another night with me again, right?”

Silence fell between then. Jason started to stroke her knee, tracing a gentle circle along the slit of her skirt. “What do you want to, kitten?”

“I want to…” she murmured, not sure of what to say. “To make you… I mean, you make me…’’ she swallowed hard, unable to finish “But…”

“It’s okay, you can go away if you want. I’m will not force you to do this if you have doubts.” Jason reached out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear: “But know this,” his voice dropped, becoming more intense, “I’m not waiting forever.”

Suddenly he stepped back, and Candy’s heart skipped a beat when she felt his comforting warmth vanish away from her skin. Is he for real? She thought. He just teased me like that and now decided to let me go?! Is this part of a bigger plan or…? Candy cleared her throat, trying not to think about it too much.

She began to climb down from the table, determined to leave. But then, halfway through, she stopped and turned back to him, who was watching her with his arms crossed. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. She knew that walking away would only postpone their tension. But the look in Jason’s eyes, the challenge, the desire... it was all too much to ignore.

“Jason,” she called out, her voice trembling slightly. “This is… Madness. You make feel like if we were two stupid teenagers driven by hormones” Candy grunted, taking a step closer “Every time we meet we argue like two rebel kids.” She stopped. “And we’re not at school anymore. We are two fucking adults, damn it!”

“Sometimes even two fucking adults can be madly dragged to each other so they won’t think straight when they’re together... You know?” Jason smirked, stepping closer as well “The pull of pleasure is undeniable such as it is inevitable. I have to confess I haven’t felt this for a long time.”

“Yes, but…” Candy sighed. “This is ridiculous.”

“But you can’t avoid it, can you?” he replied, his tone a mixture of challenge and longing.

“No, I can’t” she admitted, almost in a whisper, before practically running into his arms, seeking the comfort and familiarity of his embrace. They started kissing again, something more tender this time.

Jason held her tightly, his hands roaming her back, soothing yet igniting her senses. “See? We can’t stay away for too long. We’re both addicted to each other company.” He paused, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots on her waist. “And that began even before that night where I lost control, don’t you try to deny it...”

Candy’s body responded to his touch, her mind swirling with a mix of anger and desire. She felt herself giving in to the overwhelming sensations, her hands clutching at his shoulders as their bodies pressed closer together.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and desire. “I won’t deny it,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’ve tried to fight it, to ignore it, but it is… Impossible. You are impossible.”

Jason’s eyes softened, and he leaned down, brushing his lips against her ear. “And you are everything I can’t resist,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “From the moment I met you, I knew there was something I couldn’t ignore. And now, here we are. Again. Here I am, losing control. Again.”

“I think....” Candy arched “Were both losing control...”

Jason’s hand moved lower, and Candy arched into him, her breathing ragged. She wanted to fight it, to resist the pull he had on her, but it was useless. The connection between them was undeniable, an electric burning that neither could ignore.

“Have you made your mind? Do you want t-”

“Fuck, yes” and in a moment of impulsiveness, Candy sank to her knees, beginning to unbutton his pants, her eyes glinting with desire as she quickly freed his cock from the fabric of his clothes. Jason watched it astonished and couldn’t help to let go a satisfied laugh as he appreciated her longing gaze towards him. She was just about to take him into her mouth when he grabbed her hair, tilting her head back.

“I’m sorry to say that, Candy,” Jason said, his voice husky with desire, his eyes dark with intent. “but your mouth is the last thing I want right now.”

Candy adjusted her posture, feeling goosebumps rise on her arms as his words sent a shiver down her spine. “What do you want, then?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, filled with anticipation.

“You know what I want,” he replied, his voice a low growl, filled with raw hunger. “Now get up and give it to me.”

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Ohhh, before I forget, here's the link if you want to understand their story better:

Good reading ❤️ Chapters 1, 2 and 3 are pretty intense and into smut once it begins on the event mentioned in the synopsis/summary LMAO I hope you don't mind

( ͡⊙ ͜ʖ ͡⊙)

Also, I'm brazilian and English is not my first language... So you might see some mistakes here and there but i'm really trying my best when I make the transcription/translation okay ❤️

#jason mendal #mcl new gen #amour sucre #mcl #mcl jason #amour sucre new gen #my candy love new gen #mclng

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rogueddie · 1 year ago

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NSFW Steddie Fic Rec, Part 2: Bottom / Sub Eddie

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 💦

And for this one too, heavy emphasis on 'read the tags'. 🔞

Screw Todd, Steve's Her (His) Daddy Now

ArtaxLivs

Steve keeps calling himself Daddy "unintentionally" and Eddie...well, Eddie's about to lose it and do something he might (probably won't) regret.

Words : 5,087 Chapters : 1/1 ❗ : Light BDSM

AO3 : x

When You Sweat That Toxic Haze, I Love Your Smell

astromirage

“I’m sorry, shit ‘m sorry,” he whines, desperately needing to rabidly thrust into Steve’s cunt, to hold him down, fuck him until he’s cock stupid, drooling, only being able to beg for release, and Eddie’s dick.

“You better fucking be, don’t do it again,” he begins moving, propping himself up, just to work back onto his dick, doing this a few times, each drawing delicious noises from both of them.

Steve settles in, rocking against Eddie, the most pornographic sounds tumbling from his lips as he arches his back, burying Eddie’s cock in him deeper. His thighs burn as he fucks himself on Eddie, clenching around him, causing Eddie to groan, faltering in the stance he had sitting up. Their sweaty skin slaps together softly as Steve methodically uses Eddie, slowly working Eddie up.

Words : 3,661 Chapters : 1/1 ❗ : FTM Steve

AO3 : x

In My Boxers, Half Stoned

Eddywow

"You can," Eddie said, almost sounding like he was nodding along to his words. The image was too pure for Steve. "You could say anything you want to me and I'd- I think I'd be into it. Because I saw your pics and like, I know your face isn't in them but- but I really like them. Is it okay that I liked them?"

Words : 12,338 Chapters : 2/2 ❗

AO3 : x

Melt Me On Your Tongue

indelicate

“This okay?”

“Yeah it’s— shit, it’s more than okay, Steve.”

“… you’re crying, Eds.”

Eddie can’t hold back a choked off noise then, somewhere between an overwhelmed laugh and a sob.

“No one’s ever done this to me before.”

He doesn’t know if he means no one’s ever given him a bath, or braided his hair, or just any of the things Steve does for him, really.

Eddie's never had a Steve before.

Words : 5,879 Chapters : 1/1 ❗ : Mild Painplay

AO3 : x

Done Deal

morningberries

“I’m sorry, your royal highness, but I don’t accept trades, or favours, or IOUs, or promises, or anything relating. I accept cash. That’s it. End of story.”

“Are you sure?” Steve stepped forward into Eddie’s personal space and was pleased to see the other man’s round eyes grow impossibly larger. “I feel like I could offer you something that you want, that isn’t cash.”

Words : 3,644 Chapters : 1/1 ❗ : D/S

AO3 : x

The Bartender Was A Trap

MixAddams

Wouldn’t it be hilarious if Steve was just naturally amazing at DND?

Like he can see the strategy clear as day and can’t understand why the other players are taking so long to decide on their next move. He’s never caught by surprise by the story. He built his nearly flawless absolute weapon of a character in less than twenty minutes.

Eddie fucking hates it but oh boy does it turn him on

Words : 2,889 Chapters : 1/1 ❗

AO3 : x

Ozzy sucks

dirtyvalentine

And the pièce de résistance comes when Eddie tells him, "You could cover my mouth."

That one scares him most.

Because, well, "How are you going to use your safeword?"

"I'm not."

"What if you need to?"

"I won't."

"How do you know?"

"I'll never need to. Just trust me."

Words : 14,465 Chapters : 1/1 ❗ : Non-Con

AO3 : x

Emphasis: Major Trigger Warning for Rape Obviously I'm recommending this fic, but I do want to be clear; the content, what actually happens, in this fic? It's tagged Dead Dove for a reason. Heed the tags!

Open Up Baby

murdertrashbabyrat

Eddie calls him mommy one time, one fucking time, as a joke, he swears just a joke but then Steve looks at him, expression stern, hands on his fucking hips of course, and says, “Behave,” before snapping at Robin that she wasn’t putting this album on again and if she puts it on again he’s gonna destroy her and then she puts it on and he’s chasing her across the house and it’s funny and he should be laughing but instead he’s a little bit stricken over the fact that he’s fucking hard.

Words : 5,008 Chapters : 1/1 ❗ : Mommy Kink

AO3 : x

Whatever you want, Birthday Boy.

FluffyChicken

The club is fucking crowded when they arrive. Robin announces to the security man at the door that it's his best friend's birthday, and to Steve's dismay, she starts telling everyone who's listening that it's actually Steve's twentieth five birthday.

Fuck. Steve wishes to have twenty five years again.

"There you are, birthday boy!" He announces with a pretty smile that makes Steve go hot all over. Maybe he should take off his jacket.

Steve looks at his drink, the glass decorated with a silly pink umbrella, and smiles, reaching for his wallet and opening over the bar to pay.

“This one it’s on the house, handsome!” The bartender yells at him, putting his hand over Steve’s, stopping him. "Happy birthday!"

Words : 15,783 Chapters : 4/4 ❗

AO3 : x

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #fic rec #ficrec

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flowerpotmage · 11 months ago

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Tight Grip, Broken Dam (14)

<< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >>

You don’t question it anymore, when Miguel appears in your bed at night. He’s not there for sex, no, you’ve never even kissed—though you would be lying if you said you weren’t open to the idea of kissing him. He’s there for comfort. For rest. If only it could stay so simple.

Pair: Miguel O'Hara & GN!Reader

Notes: for chapter: sex dreams, soup, superheroing (now with less peril!)

Word Count: 3.3k

Read this chapter on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider leaving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

Dr. Parker approves your return to Spidering on a Wednesday.

You’re practically buzzing when he does, having been crawling out of your skin stuck in a cycle of gyms and training courses and mundane work for the paper. It doesn’t help that the latest news stories have all been about your disappearance, and have now moved on to theorizing over the likelihood of your death.

You can’t remember the last time it felt so good to put on your suit.

Your body cuts through the crisp night air as you swing through tall city buildings. You stop a mugging, a purse thief (who even does that anymore?), an attempted robbery, and a potential car accident. People cheer and gasp when they see you swing by, hands scrambling for phones to take photos and videos.

It’s a busy night. Petty criminals emboldened by your previous absence act with a particular fearlessness you haven’t seen since the early days, and you bounce from place to place like a video game character chasing quest markers, your path chaotic and messy.

You stop to rest for just a moment on top of a bank and let the sounds of the city roll over you.

Your watch pings: it’s Miguel.

“Hi,” you answer, beaming under your mask at the little bust of him floating above your wrist.

“Back on the streets?”

“More like rooftops,” you joke, lifting your mask so he can see your face. He smiles when your own grin comes into view. “Doctor Parker gave me the all clear.”

“Right,” he says, pausing hesitantly. “How is it?”

Your grin slides into a much softer smile. “It’s going great. I’ve already helped a lot of people tonight.” You pause. “They weren’t sure if I was… still around.”

He nods, understanding.

Sirens call you from a few blocks over, your head jerking up to track their distance. You look back down at your watch.

“I should go get that,” you say, smiling apologetically as you turn and start walking across the rooftop. “Will you… will you be at the apartment tonight?”

“Do you want me to be?”

You pause. Of course you do. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He smiles, half a smirk. “You just want someone to have dinner ready for you when you get home.”

You laugh, pulling your mask down. “I’ll see you later.”

He chuckles, ends the call, and you jump out into the open air over the street.

You’re all over the news the next day. Headlines of City Spider Lives! and Spider Returns and other such variations dot the papers and fill screens. You even trend on TikTok.

Gwen arrives around noon to borrow your washing machine and catch up, when you’re on your couch doing research for your next piece for The Bulletin. The temperature has been dropping, so the balcony doors are closed and you have a blanket across your lap, dressed in one of Miguel’s overnight shirts and a pair of sweatpants.

“Whose shirt is that?” she asks, greetings exchanged, and piling her things into the washing machine.

You blink, looking down at yourself, and glance over the back of the couch into the hallway. Your fingers run over one of the folds over your stomach, the fabric soft and warm. “Uh.”

Gwen turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow, a cheeky grin in place.

“None of your business,” you say, turning back to the laptop balanced on your thighs, legs stretched out like a bridge to the coffee table.

You hear the lid of the machine close, the clicks and beeps that announce it turning on. Gwen swings over the back of the couch to land next to you, graceful as ever.

“So I guess the pair of plates on the dish rack are none of my business too?”

You shoot her a halfhearted warning glare and she holds her hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright,” she says, dropping her hands into her lap. “I’ll leave it alone, but I want you to know I’m happy for you.”

You grumble something noncommittal, face warming. Miguel had been in your apartment again last night—you’re struggling to clearly remember just when the last night without him was—and had stayed for breakfast this morning.

You had cooked for him, for once. Pancakes, with fruit.

“Is this all you know how to cook?” he teased. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I know how to cook other stuff,” you laughed, and turned to look at him.

Your usual positions were reversed, you at the stove and Miguel seated on the other side of the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room. He smiled at you, forearms folded on the counter as he watched you.

“Cereal doesn’t count.”

“Oh, shut it,” you said and turned back to the stove, pretending that your skin wasn’t tingling under his gaze.

“Whatcha working on?” Gwen asks, pulling you back to the present.

“Some filler piece on an animal shelter,” you say. “I’ll get something better soon, now that I’m not ‘sick.’” You lift a hand to draw quotes in the air around the word.

“Hm.”

And you do, when you go into The Bulletin later that afternoon. Ellison delightedly informs you that he’s acquired press passes for an event celebrating donors to the city’s oldest art museum, and even gotten you a plus one.

“That’s pretty big,” you say. “But not normally enough to get you this excited.”

It’s true. Ellison, normally friendly, albeit marginally stressed on nearly every occasion you’ve seen him, is practically bouncing on his feet as he grins.

“Well, the Spider is back.”

“I’m not–”

“I’m not trying to get you to cover the Spider, calm down,” he says. “Karen’s taking it.”

Shit.

Your lungs freeze for a moment. It would be one thing for a colleague to cover your after-hours life, but one you’ve befriended?

“Karen, huh?”

Ellison nods. “We’ve gone long enough without a reporter on this. She’s had success with other vigilante characters before. Daredevil, Punisher. Spider’s probably the safest of the lot she’ll ever meet.”

“Can’t argue there,” you say, half mumbling, mind already racing through how you’ll manage to keep Karen in the dark, because you know with her tenacity she’ll corner the Spider sooner or later.

Miguel slips into your apartment through the balcony. It’s late, so he figures you’re probably asleep—which is why he’s opted to portal to your rooftop and scale down the building for the quiet, mundane entry instead of the far more obtrusive route of portaling straight to your living room. Of course, he could just sleep in his own home, but…

The sliding glass door clicks shut under his hand, white noise of the city now shut out. Turning, he scans over your living room—laptop dark on your kitchen counter, couch blanket unfolded and laying haphazardly on the cushions.

You’re working more again. That’s good.

He turns to your bedroom door, cracked open as if inviting him in, and opens it slowly. His caution is rewarded; you lay there, sleeping, the back of your head the only part of you visible from under the small hill of blankets.

The sight warms his chest, sparking his smile to life.

Miguel’s shirt isn’t on the chair where he left it, so he goes into your closet to get one of the others that had found their way to your apartment and stayed there. He changes there, in your room. He knows you won’t wake if you haven’t already, and so there’s no worry of you catching him stripping from his suit at the foot of your bed.

Not that he would mind you seeing, he realizes with a start. Not just as a fantasy, but really, actually seeing him like this, here, in this moment.

He swallows; turns his head to look at you as he holds his shirt in his hands.

Deep asleep.

Even with this revelation—of fantasy versus reality and the way it sends his mind spinning—his whole being softens at the relaxed expression of your sleeping face, the soft sound of your deep breaths.

He slips on his shirt, his pajama bottoms, and walks around to his side of the bed. Lifting the cover, he slides in beside you. There’s a pause, where he wrestles with the impulse to kiss your face or your hand on the pillow, and instead of pulling you close to his chest under his arm he rolls over to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling.

Sleep comes, eventually.

“Miguel,” you whisper. “Fuck, please–”

You’re under him, face turned to the side on your pillow as he kisses your shoulders, your spine.

“Okay, okay cariño. I’ve got you.”

He lifts himself up on his hands above you, a hand planted on the mattress by your waist and the other finding its place on your skin, sliding across hips that roll and shift against the mattress, searching for any of what he’s denied you thus far.

“Lift for me, sweetheart. There you go,” he praises when you arch your back for him, lifting your hips to give him access.

You’ve been moaning and whining so quietly this whole time, the sounds sweet as sugar and rushing straight to his cock, making his mouth water.

“Miguel,” you plead. “Please…”

“I know, I know mi vida,” he soothes, stroking himself and sliding against your opening. “I’ve got you.”

When he slides in it's so fucking perfect that he can’t help but groan, the sound deep and straight from his soul.

And then, in a change that only makes sense in dreams, you’re above him, pulling his hair back and riding him as you lick his neck. His hands grip your hips, and—

Miguel wakes, skin hot and a weight on his chest: you’ve cuddled up to him at some point in your sleep, a leg hooked around his, dangerously close to–

Mierda.

It's not even dawn yet, going by the lighting and the clock on your bedside table.

He’s had dreams about you before, of course, but this… He closes his eyes, willing the ache between his legs away, using all of his will to not shift his legs wider to provide room and relief. Shocking hell though, it’d be easier to calm down, for his racing heart to slow, if you weren't right there—

Your arm around his middle tightens, then loosens, an unconscious hum escaping your throat.

That’s it. He needs to get out of here. It’s not easy, disentangling himself from your sleeping body without waking you, but somehow he does it, his hardness finally giving up and softening.

It comes back later though, after he’s made you breakfast and left and is in the shower in his own home, the dream rising unbidden behind his eyes. He indulges in the images, brow furrowed and panting softly as he wraps his hand around himself and lets the images in his head play through past the moment he woke.

“Shit, shit!”

You scramble from the couch to the stove, where the lid on a pot of soup is starting to rattle as the contents inside boil over. You turn down the heat, remove the lid, and stir the contents—slowly, slowly it simmers down.

You’re making soup for Miguel, a surprise to prove his teasing remarks wrong. You've dug out an old recipe from your aunt, one she got from your grandmother that you’ve been told your mom loved growing up. It's something you make every fall when the air starts to get that little bit of bite to it—and you think Miguel will like it too.

The soup is saved, thankfully. You ladle the steaming hot contents into a tupperware after changing—Spider suit under your clothes, a comfortable shirt and loose jacket—package the two containers into an old tote bag with napkins and spoons and then portal to HQ.

It’s gray in Miguel’s dimension, the skies overcast and disproportionately bright: the sort of overcast that hurts your eyes more than a clear sunny day, the sun behind the clouds turning the sheet of gray into cold diffused light. Even the climate-controlled space that hosts Miguel’s Spider Society has a hint of the chill from outside—far easier to keep the building cool at this altitude than to heat it, apparently.

Soup was the right call.

You make your way through the weaving beams and paths, swinging through the open space on your webs before landing at the entrance to Miguel’s lab.

“Whatcha got in there?” Lyla pops up, eye level with yours.

“Soup.” You raise an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on the corner of your lips.

“Sure hope you didn't spill any on your way in,” she teases, flickering from one spot to the next to remain in front of you as you walk further into the dark hall, circling a pointed finger at you. “With all that web-slinging.”

“Of course not. I used the good tupperware.”

Miguel isn't at his multi screen platform this time, but in one of the side nooks, working on something you can't see on an old-school tablet.

“Guess who's here!” Lyla pops up near Miguel’s hunched frame.

Miguel lifts his head to look at Lyla, then straightens in his seat as he turns to look at you over his shoulder, creased eyebrows relaxing into something softer, more open.

“Hi,” you say, unable to help the smile that spreads on your lips as he turns to face you more fully.

“Hello,” he says, then raises an eyebrow, nodding at the tote bag on your shoulder. “What’s in the bag?”

You shrug the bag off your shoulder and walk forward to join him at the workbench. “Whatcha working on?”

He hums, turning to continue facing you as you walk closer and come to a stop next to his seat. “I see. Information for information, huh?”

You chuckle. “Soup,” you say, pulling the containers out and answering his earlier question, turning to look at him.

He’s smiling at you, still seated in his chair, and your stomach flips. An image flashes through your mind, so fast it almost unbalances you; Miguel wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in for a one-armed hug, leaning his head against you in a moment of pure, warm affection, and you kissing the top of his head. Nothing far from what occurs in your home, or your bed at night, but… never here.

Miguel turns to look at the soup you’ve placed on his workbench, the clear lids steamed opaque by the food inside.

“You made this?”

“Contrary to your very firm opinion, I can make food other than cereal.” You nudge his shoulder, pushing gently with your hand. “Family recipe.”

Miguel looks at you again, pushing his tablet aside. “I should get another chair in here.”

“What, just for me?”

He hums in affirmative as you take a seat on the workbench, pulling out two spoons and the napkins you packed.

Your face heats, cracking open the lid on your meal as Miguel cracks open the lid on his.

You nudge his arm with your knee. “Your turn. What are you working on?”

Miguel raises an eyebrow at you, lifting a spoonful of soup to his mouth. He gives a surprised hum. “This is good.”

You shake your head, smile only somewhat rueful at his avoidance of your question. “I told you I can make food other than cereal.” You look down at your own container, held in one hand as you perch on his workbench. “It’s a family recipe.”

It’s Miguel’s turn to nudge your leg with his arm. “Thank you for bringing it.”

“Of course. You’re terrible at feeding yourself at work, so…” You trail off with a teasing shrug, laughing when he nudges your leg again, this time in playful indignation, and devolving into laughter when he raises a serious eyebrow. “What!”

He places the soup down on the bench, standing up and leaning over you, saying your name in playful warning. “You didn’t even have groceries in your fridge before me.”

Your face flushes, heat zinging from your crown and your toes to meet in your stomach. The laughter bubbles to a stop in your throat as Miguel towers over your seat on the workbench surface.

You swallow. “Two things can be true at once.”

His eyes flick between yours. Everything freezes, even your breaths, and you try not to blink for fear of losing the fragile moment—whatever it might be—and then Miguel lowers his eyes, a swift downward stroke past your lips, and steps to the side to sit on the bench next to you.

“Alright, alright,” he says. “You make a fair point.”

You’re glad he doesn’t have super hearing, because your heart is thundering as you zero in on your little thing of soup to ground yourself. Miguel is equally silent for an extended moment—did he feel it too?—and when your racing pulse has slowed but the heat lingers in your face, he speaks again.

“How’s work?”

“I’m finally getting good assignments again,” you say, taking a small spoonful of your soup. “I get to go to a gala, write about all the big wigs and how much money they raise for whatever charity.”

“I’d like to read your work sometime,” he says, between his own spoonfuls. “If you don’t mind.”

You look over at him. He looks at you.

“Sure.”

Miguel smiles.

It’s easy to slip back into old routines. When you’re not working from home then you’re out as Spider, and when you’re not doing either of those things you’re wrapped up in bed and sleeping your long days away.

Miguel has to return to old routines as well, long days and nights at HQ and as the Spider-Man of his dimension. Even on the nights you don’t see him you know he visits, the bed warm when you wake up and food on the stove waiting for you.

Tonight, a week into your return, you’re out in the city once again. It’s a slow night, the air cold and crisp with the impending change of seasons. Bikers rumble past on the street below, one last ride before the weather changes too and leaves the streets too slippery, too dangerous.

You have your mask pulled up over your nose, exposing just enough to eat the hot slice of pizza bought with cash from a small spot near Hell’s Kitchen. A small thud behind you has you dropping the last few bites and pulling down your mask, spinning to face your surprise guest.

He stands there, every inch covered in deep red body armor, even his eyes hidden behind glassy red lenses that shine back a funhouse mirror reflection of yourself. The shade of red he wears is just this side of too warm to be reminiscent of blood and instead calls to mind rust and flames. Every angle of his body is tense, straight, lines culminating in two small points on the fore of his helmet-mask: the horns of the devil.

You watch as his head tilts slightly, chin tipped down as if lifting his ears.

Then you speak, uncomfortable with the silence of waiting.

“Daredevil.”

The reaction is instant, his head lifting and tilting like a dog who’s just heard an animal outside.

“Spider. Welcome back.”

You narrow your eyes under your mask, examining his changed posture: more confident, just a degree more relaxed, disarmed.

“Thank you.”

Silence falls again, the space between you interrupted by the low whistle and whoosh of a cold breeze.

“Am I on your turf?” you ask, just a shade apprehensive, joking to ease the strangeness of this encounter.

That almost earns you a chuckle, and certainly earns you a grin. “No. You’re more than welcome here.”

“Hm.” You smile under your mask, tilting your head as you drag your eyes over him. “Thank you. Cool suit.”

His grin remains, spreading wider. “Thank you.” A pause, a gesture of his hand towards you. “Yours too.”

The silence lingers again, the both of you sizing one another up in a new way.

“I should…” You point your thumb over your shoulder.

Daredevil nods.

“Nice to meet you,” you offer, shooting a web off to the taller building across the street. He gives another nod, and you're gone.

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#x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #astv miguel fic #miguel o'hara fic

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empresstheresa-guide · 2 months ago

Text

Theresa and Steve, a love story for the ages.. part 3 B

Recap: Theresa has been dating Jack for a few months. She doesn’t actually care about him and has no long term plans. But one day, she walks into Jack’s room and finds he has a hometown girlfriend he never mentioned to Theresa. Humiliated, Theresa goes into her room to wait for Jack. She puts on an extremely short sexy dress to taunt him.

Steve walks in instead and they share a passionate kiss, despite never interacting before. Theresa then tells Jack’s girlfriend Ginny that they weren’t compatible anyway, and she feels bad for Ginny who is only a waitress.

BUT all of this was scrapped. Norman wrote three completely new versions, so let’s look at those.

VERSION 3

This version begins with Theresa donning the ”little black nothing dress” again, so I won’t rehash it. Check part 3 A.

”It was now nearly nine o’clock and I was near tears. There was nobody around here who cared for me. There wasn’t one person I could walk up to and call ‘friend’ to their face.”

The more I quote from the book, the more it stands out that Norman often uses the same word twice in one sentence. It doesn’t really matter what time it was, you can just say the evening was wearing on and you were near tears. (Norman also loves exact numbers with distance, time, age etc.) I think the quotation marks around ”friend” are unnecessary, since ”friend” is not a nickname or euphemism, but that’s a minor point.

Steve enters the room again.

”He walked up close to my desk and said, “Ginny is Jack’s hometown girlfriend. They’ve been seeing each other for years. She was supposed to show up next week but she came early.”

So. It was going to be all over anyway.

“Did you know about her?”

“No. None of us did.”

Norman actually considered the fact that a Good Catholic Boy wouldn’t just let Jack have two girlfriends, kudos for that. But how does Steve know Ginny was supposed to come next week then? Norman has also changed the punctuation. I think the lonely ”so.” sounds off, but I like it better than the exclamation point.

This is the last you’ll hear of Jack and Ginny in this version. No more compassion for the lowly waitress.

”Have a seat.” I indicated the bed. He sat down on the edge of it. We looked at each other. I must have looked pretty sad after a miserable evening. I sensed that he was aware of how lonely I’d been, but somehow I didn’t mind his knowing.”

I guess this makes sense, she doesn’t mind being vulnerable in front of him. But the way it’s phrased isn’t great. He’s not some psychic for realizing she’s sad. It would be expected in this situation.

”Anything going on in the dorm?” I suggested.

“There’s an all night card game.”

What about all the homecoming week activities mentioned earlier?

” I heard about the boys playing cards all night. You would think something exciting was going on, but all they did was throw cards around. There was no intelligent conversation possible when all you did was look at your cards. Why did they do it?”

My theory is that Norman walked in on a card game, and everyone fell silent because no one likes him, and they just wanted him to leave. So now he thinks that playing poker is just people silently staring at the cards.

” He glanced at my legs. My hemline was practically up to my hips when I sat down. Nothing excited boys more than a shirt skirt. Bikinis didn’t do as much. ”

Who needs a bikini if your dress is THAT short? 10 inches above the knee is basically a bikini when you sit down.

” “You’re quiet, Steve. Something on your mind?”

“Yeah. I’m trying not to think about what I might see.”

“I’m wearing a thong. You won’t see anything but my hip.”

“And a nice hip it is, I’m sure.”

Oh Norman. Do we really have to talk about Theresa’s underwear? Isn’t she sexualized enough already? I just don’t understand this dialogue, either. If she’s wearing a thong and a 10-inches-above-the-knee dress, then Steve would pretty much see everything. And the dialogue is inorganic too, who would ever say that about her hip?

I can just imagine Norman sitting alone in his sad little room, staring at his Windows ME computer screen, trying to come up with romantic dialogue for 17-year-olds. I feel kind of bad for him, but as I always remind myself, he’s a complete douchebag who treats everyone like trash.

“You’ll get used to me soon, Steve. We have to get over this awkward moment.”

More unnatural dialogue. Nothing makes a moment more awkward than stating that it’s awkward. They never talked to each other in private before, so it’s bound to be awkward.

So Jack doesn’t come to Theresa’s room, nor do they go downstairs to deal with the situation. Theresa and Jack are just over and she’s ready to move on with Steve. Good Catholic Girl(tm).

”The feelings of an eighteen year old boy in this close encounter weren’t hard to guess. I felt safe. There was no way he was going to try to take advantage of me like some boy who would keep trying to get something that wasn’t his right.”

Steve has a giant boner. But if she’s supposed to be with Jack, is it his right to even be there?

”Anyway, I could throw him out the window.”

I do kinda like this sentence. I wish there was more HAL and her superpowers in this chapter, because it seems unlikely that she would just ignore that whole part of her life. How about if she suddenly did something with her super strength? Or if Steve/Jack noticed she gives off heat?

Next, Theresa decides to show Steve a TV series about Queen Victoria. More on that later.

VERSION 4

This version is identical to version 3, except the whole ”a nice hip it is I’m sure” thing is left out, and instead Theresa notes:

”I stood up and reached for a deck of DVDs high on my bookcase. Steve must have had a great view of my backside.”

This is at least better than that awful dialogue, but Norman manages to sexualize Theresa again. Why doesn’t she just change clothes, if the dress was only a way to get back at Jack? Clearly Norman wants Theresa to be as sexy as possible, and it’s gross.

VERSION 5

And now for the worst, most stinking heap of them all. Prepare to hear Theresa’s and her Dad’s thoughts on a film from the 1950’s.

”I waited a few minutes. There was no knock on the door. I sat on the bed and turned on the television.”

And here, the action screeches to a halt (ha, I almost wrote HALT) while Theresa watches TV.

”They were showing the early part of “The Caine Mutiny”. I’d seen it before.”

If a 17-year-old girl turned on the TV and a 1950’s movie was on, she would instantly change the channel. It could work if this was a hobby of hers, like she's an old timey movie buff who prefers old stuff to new teen movies. But that's not how it comes across here. Norman wants us to know what he thinks of the movie, so it’s included, even if it makes no sense whatsoever.

Unless there's some deeper connection between "The Caine Mutiny" and this story that I'm missing here. If you can think of something, I'd love to hear it.

” Captain Queeg was a paranoid personality who couldn’t take adversity. It made him a dictator on the ship. He made his men miserable with his inflexible demands. Later, there would be an ultimate crisis, a monstrous typhoon that threatened to sink the ship. That’s when the Captain lost it and his chief mate Maryk took over the ship on the grounds that the Captain was nuts. As a reward for his courageous saving of the ship, Maryk was put on trial for mutiny.”

I'm not familiar with the story, so I don't have a lot to say on that. I will say that by Norman's standards, this isn't too bad. In fact, it's fairly coherent for him. But I'm confused by the verb forms here. We start with "was" and "made", then there "would be" a crisis, that's when the Captain "lost" it. It's a bit of a mess. Also "the captain was nuts" just sounds dumb and doesn't go with the style of the paragraph.

”My dad who’d been in the Navy read the book and said half of it was about a love story between Ensign Keith and a girl who wanted to be a singer. Eventually her career took off and she left the Ensign. Dad guessed that this boring love story meant something to the author, but it dragged down the book. The movie producers wisely dropped the singer’s story and concentrated on the mutiny. It worked because the chief mate’s willingness to sacrifice his career to save the crew was a very effective love story of sorts.”

”Dad guessed”… that phrase alone should have told him this isn’t a good idea. At least have Theresa herself read the book. I just cannot imagine a situation where a teen girl listens to her dad talk about a 1950’s movie/book, and then later recounts his opinion on it. She’s writing this 600 years in the future, too. She wouldn’t even remember what her father said, unless it was very meaningful for her life.

Here’s the thing about her dad: all we learn about him is that he was in the Navy. This was already mentioned in chapter 1. He has one indirect line. ”He said I had to be the captain of my ship, but sometimes the seas would be rough”, which again relates to him being in the Navy. That’s his whole personality. He’s like a cardboard cutout with a navy uniform. Imagine your daughter writing an autobiography and only mentioning your job. I would be crushed if I were her dad. See also her sister Catherine, whose only quality is being less smart than Theresa. If your family is so close knit and loving, you need to express that in some way. Every relative would hope to be in the book, and they’d all be so disappointed they didn’t make the cut, and instead Theresa talks about some boy she doesn’t even care about. Norman, of course, never considered this.

Back to the story, I’m definitely not surprised Norman thinks love stories are boring… and he says that while trying to write one. You need to read a lot if you want to be a writer. Norman thinks he can just write the best thing ever, without doing any research. It’s like he’s building a house, when he has never seen one in his life.

” I noticed something similar in a book called “The Robe” which my grandmother gave me.”

Oh god. Instead of getting on with the story, Norman digs out another musty old book.

At least here, Norman had some inkling that maybe a teen in 2017 wouldn’t have read a book published in 1942. So fair save with the grandmother, but it’s still unlikely that Theresa would have cared about the book this much.

” It was written by a Methodist minister who filled it with quotes from the Bible. It was a spectacular bestselling book in World War II when the world looked like it was falling apart, but it would probably bomb today. ”

How does Theresa know what the world was like post-World War II?

” In the Hollywood movie starring Richard Burton, all the Bible quotes were dropped, and they concentrated on the conflict between Burton and Caligula.”

I assume Burton is the name of the actor, while Caligula is the name of the character. Norman doesn’t really explain the story, but hey, who hasn’t read ”The Robe”? It’s one of the big ones, right up there with ”Harry Potter”. Every young person loves ”The Robe”.

Norman gave more of a recap on the story of ”The Caine Mutiny”, but this book is much more obscure, and he doesn’t even bother describing it.

” But Burton and his girl marched off to martyrdom from a more dramatic Emperor’s throne room scene than was in the book. Sometimes subtle messages work better than speeches.”

If I was more dramatic, doesn’t that mean it was less subtle?

” That’s how I operate. I could have criticized Jack in front of his friends for dating me without telling about Ginny, but I said nothing. I let people think it out for themselves. ”

Well, it was pretty obvious to everyone. Norman is trying to force a connection between his story and this review of two very old movies, but it doesn’t work. Theresa not confronting Jack is just bad writing. If she’s so subtle and says nothing, why even include the story in this book? She could have ignored Jack altogether, they dated for like a month and she didn’t care about him at all. Obviously she wants the readers to know how she was wronged by Jack, but that ruins this whole point. She’s furious and nonchalant at the same time. It doesn’t make sense.

” The movie ended with the Caine sailing back out to sea. Ensign Keith was the only officer of the original crew left after the devastating trial. ”

Just when you think it’s over, they pull you back in.

” The next movie was one of those horrible made-for-TV -walking-dead movies. I couldn’t stand them and turned off the TV. The problem with that trash is it didn’t address an individual’s decisions in life. It was insulting to avoid challenging the viewer’s ideas as if his ideas didn’t matter. ”’

That last sentence just reads like world salad to me. And thanks for that opinion too Norman, what a scintillating chapter about Theresa’s love life.

Zombie movies - ”The Walking Dead” being only one franchise - are usually about humanity and the collapse of society. What kind person would survive and how would it change them? What would I be willing to do to survive? It’s thought provoking. Maybe Norman has only ever seen one really bad zombie movie. But this is all consistent with his baseline of scorn and belittling other people’s work, while admiring his own.

Does Norman think ET addresses people’s decisions in life? Of course he does.

”At least in ‘The Caine Mutiny’ you were challenged to think whether you would have the courage to take over the ship like Maryk. If you were a real thinker, you’d consider why the Navy didn’t look into the circumstances of the monsoon scene before rushing into putting Maryk on trial. Apparently nothing had been said before the trial.”

Oh man, I feel like this will never end. Your character is having a crisis and all she can think of is ”The Caine Mutiny”. If it was at least a teen movie about cheating, it would make some sense. Have her ponder on Team Edward or Team Jacob. (Since some of this was written in the early 2000’s and also I’m old and can’t think of a more recent example, but almost anything would be better.)

Of course, Norman isn’t ”a real thinker” by any stretch. Those questions could be asked in a high school English class.

”I stared at my roommate’s wall. There was nothing to do and I was milking my loneliness.”

You could go downstairs and confront Jack. That’s something to do. Theresa loves to wallow in self-pity, this will be a theme later in the book.

” People who never went to college believed it was one continuous party. In fact, parties were rare […] College life was mostly studying and killing time with inane activities. It was a test. If you could stand this life for four years you could stand anything. A lot of kids went nuts and dropped out.”

She just said a few pages ago that there were lots of activities on campus that weekend. I thought Norman liked Boston College and specifically wanted to advertise it in this book, but here he depicts it as mind-numbingly dull.

” After half an hour moping on my bed I moved to my desk and resumed moping. ”

I love this quote. She’s moping, quits for a second, and then resumes moping.

” The truth was I was desperately lonely. I thought of going downstairs to see what was going on, but after the scene in Jack’s room my loneliness would be too obvious. I still had a little pride. It was amazing how quiet it could be on the girl’s floor. That was another thing people got wrong.”

How would Norman know how quiet or loud it is in the girls’ dorm?

I actually sort of feel for Theresa.. until Steve walks in again.

This part follows the earlier version, where Steve explains the Ginny situation. There is, however, a new addition:

“You’re quiet, Steve. Something on your mind?”

‘Yeah. You want me to leave?”

“If you leave now I’ll have to kill myself.”

It took a few seconds before Steve got the joke and laughed. The ice was broken and we each had that little smile of people comfortable in their situation.”

That’s a joke?? Suicide is a joke? Wow, Norman. This book is supposed to have a positive message and provide a good role model for readers. So girls, just remember that if things are awkward, you should make jokes about suicide!

Jack is still technically her boyfriend and nothing has been resolved. How are Theresa and Steve already comfortable together? They haven’t even really talked to each other before. We know they haven’t, because if they had, Norman would have written a long description of it.

”Next came planning the night’s campaign.”

They sit in her room and watch DVDs. It’s not like she’s running for office.

” I stood up and reached for a deck of DVDs high on my bookcase. The DVDs were of the famous BBC production series ‘Victoria’.”

Apparently, Norman realized the note about her backside wasn’t appropriate. But the ”Caine Mutiny” bit was still worse.

”Victoria” is actually an ITV show. Norman probably thinks BBC is the only broadcasting company in the UK. The show came out in 2016, so we can assume this happens in ca 2017-18. Were DVDs still a big thing then? Streaming services were already available. Although I guess if you lived in the US, you were unlikely to have British shows in your streaming services. Maybe it makes sense.

”An eighteen year old girl becomes queen of England and the British Empire. Everybody wants something from her. She survives eight assassination attempts. You wonder how a teenage girl got through it. You wonder if you’d have the nerve to take on what she did.”

Laying the foreshadowing way too thick here. We get it, Theresa has to take responsibility at age 18. She tells Steve what he will think of the show, before they even start watching it. Theresa and Steve often work as a hivemind who has the same ideas of everything.

”Victoria’ was made for the English who already knew the story. It was very complicated with rapid changes from one subplot to another. I had to explain the characters and their motivations. Steve seemed interested.”

He was probably just thinking of her dress and thong. It’s also oddly random that they start watching DVDs instead of going downstairs and dealing with Jack. It’s almost like he never existed.

British people on Twitter confirmed that they do not, in fact, already know everything about Victoria, so the show couldn’t be that obscure. I wonder if Norman saw one episode and couldn’t really follow it.

”We both marveled at the responsibility the girl took on. She could have withdrawn in her castle and ignored everything going on in the world. She went out to be seen by the people despite assassination attempts and made heavy decisions like sending a band of traitors to Australia instead of letting them being drawn and quartered. ”

That last sentence desperately needs some punctuation. This is one of the most boring chapters, half of it is just recounting old shows and historical events. I preferred the version where Steve passionately kisses Theresa out of nowhere. It was bad but at least there was a story.

”Her uncle was next in line if she abdicated. He did maneuvers to bring this about. The girl queen told him, “I have made mistakes and perhaps I will make more, but I’m a better monarch than you could ever be.” I wondered if I could do as well at her age.”

He makes the same point again! And it wasn’t even subtle the first time. Norman clearly sees no difference between Victoria, who was an actual queen and a real person, and his fantasy ”Empress” Theresa, who only exists in his head. She’s not even a real empress, they just call her that for no reason. Well, at least ”Victoria” didn’t come out in the 1950’s, and is slightly more relevant to Theresa’s story.

THE GRAND FINALE

We’re near the end now. Forget about the part where Theresa and Steve go downstairs. This time they stay in her room all night. This ending is the same in versions 3-5.

”We took two breaks during the night to go downstairs and get little snacks out of the food machine. Some people saw us at two a.m. which was sure to start rumors. By daylight we were giggling from fatigue.”

She’s OK with rumors.. more on that in a bit. Imagine watching DVDs all night, with the other person explaining every detail while you’re watching. I would have fallen asleep at some point.

” We went to breakfast. I was still wearing my little black nothing dress which stood out at breakfast.”

Two sentences ending in ”breakfast”.

Why does Theresa act like this? It’s like she wants people to gossip.

”It was obvious from our demeanors that we’d been up all night. Girls gave us the eye. I didn’t care. Let them think what they wanted. We hadn’t done anything we couldn’t tell our parents.”

Theresa doesn’t care about her reputation.. but later in the book, she says she kept herself clean, because she knew one day she would be world famous. In a story where government agents spill confidential information to other nations, she doesn’t worry about other students telling the press about this. It would be a scandal. Good Catholic Girl dated two boys at the same time!

”Nosy girls filled our table and asked what we did all night.

“Nothing” I said.

“Surrrrrrrrrrrrrrrre, Theresa!”

Great writing there with so many rrrrrrrrrrrrrr's. It's like a teenager's writing. "OMG I loveeeeeeee this song!" Norman will occasionally use inappropriate numbers of letters or punctuation to make a point. e.g.

”There must have been a lot of panic. ‘Theresa Hartley’s plane is missing!!!!!’

And if you're going to use it, it should be "suuuuuuuuuure", not "surrrrrrrrrrrre". Norman never sounds out his dialogue.

Back to the scene:

Steve joked, “The video is on YouTube”.

For once, Steve’s joke isn’t that bad. Norman has heard of YouTube, I’ll give him a point for that. He did get upset at KrimsonRogue and said that KR would soon be forgotten, while ET would be known forever.

But why is Theresa so OK with people gossiping about her? She herself makes nasty comments about ”bad girls” in the book, and puts herself above them. These are mostly in the old versions.

Chapter 1 (older edition):

”A lot of people said I was the girl who had it all together or my story would have been very different. Perhaps it was because of what I didn’t do as much as what I did. I tried to be a good girl.

I had good parents. By the time I was ten they convinced me I should get myself through the school years without drug or boy problems. There are girls like that, you know. You wouldn’t think so to look at the news. I find it strange that people are interested in news about troubled girls, but don’t want to associate with them.”

But by this definition, isn’t Theresa a ”troubled girl” now? She’s taunting boys with an extremely short skirt, and spends all night in her room with a boy, even if she doesn’t actually have sex with him. Even sitting right next to him in your sexy thong-dress is something a Good Catholic Girl would not do. What would her parents think of it? Norman’s obsession with sexualizing Theresa, while still presenting her as some kind of pure Madonna figure, just backfires.

Chapter 8 (older edition):

”In college I heard talk of a girl who had four intimate boy friends who knew about each other and what was going on.”

So they had a consensual poly relationship. I guess in Norman’s head, that’s as bad as cheating on someone.

”A couple of other girls took a vacation in Barcelona, Spain where young studs waited for American girls at the airport. The girls had wild orgies where nobody knew them, and when they got back home they could pass themselves off as virgins. This was not the conversation I wanted to be part of. I didn’t have steamy sex stories about myself like many of the girls.”

Girl reading ET: ”Mommy, what’s a stud? What’s a wild orgy? What are steamy sex stories?”

I’m amused at the idea of Spanish guys waiting for American girls at the airport. There are plenty of beautiful young girls in Spain. But I digress. The point is that there are ”bad” girls and Theresa clearly looks down on them.. but she ruins her own reputation with no care in the world. It’s not a ”steamy sex story” per se, but if everyone assumes she had sex with Steve, she’s right up there with those ”bad” girls.

This is one big issue with the book: Theresa often does not live according to her stated values. She just does whatever and we’re supposed to support her, and not only that, but admire her. She’s a good girl, despite wearing a 10-inches-above-the-knee dress to arouse boys, and walking around in that dress at breakfast. She seems to be reveling in her own beauty and sexiness, which is not a very likable trait, and makes it harder to relate to her.

And then the conclusion of the story.

”We suddenly had lots of friends. An attractive couple was invited to everything.”

Was Jack unattractive then? We never did get any description of his looks. At least he didn’t have red hair and glasses, like Jeff Winslow.

Theresa makes two jabs at Jack later in the book, when she gets rich. It shows how petty and vindictive she is. In case you didn’t know, she’s also very greedy and hogs natural resources to make ludicrous sums of money.

Chapter 14:

”Total sales of my gold and silver reached more than a billion dollars a week and was climbing fast. This might taper off after a while, but in less than a year I would be richer than some small countries. Theresa calling Jack. How are you doing with Ginny?”

Chapter 16:

”Corporations were already blabbering about all the things they could do with the metal. Within a month I was a billionaire.

I wondered what my old BC boyfriend Jack Koster was thinking of all this!”

Norman either forgot he already said this, or he thinks it’s such a great point, he should mention it twice. It makes Theresa look so bad. She didn’t even care about Jack, it’s her ego that’s bruised, and if she didn’t let this go in 600 years, she never will. Even if she’s happily married with her soulmate and has 420 children. (Yeah) She can’t help but remind Jack of what he lost.. even if their relationship was never meant to last anyway.

Part 4 will feature Norman’s discussion of their relationship. If you want something romantic, you will be disappointed. It’s mostly reiterating over and over that they’re sooo compatible and that they waited for marriage.

#empress theresa #norman boutin #bad books #steve hartley

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sbrown82 · 11 months ago

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The post about Pat and Mick was really interesting to find out about and look more into. I also felt really weird about the way that girl was pressured into doing things she wasn’t comfortable with, especially at such a young and vulnerable age and coming from a history of trauma and abuse.

The guys from the Rolling Stones are cool and we should give them kudos for the creative stuff they did but I think it’s also ok to acknowledge when they do bad things.

It feels a little like victim blaming to ask why a young woman with trauma didn’t just leave or not do something she didn’t want to - a lot of people who were in downright abusive relationships are asked those very same questions without regard for the different power dynamics and complexities at play. I just feel like the older person shouldn’t have seen that their partner was resisting or uncomfortable with something and had them do it to please them anyway. It sounds more like exploitation than her being given a chance to be free and explore her own sexuality; if that was the case her own interests would be included/catered to and her boundaries taken seriously.

There’s a issue of certain men knowing they can coerce black women because if we speak out no one believes us or fights for us the way they do others so we have to understand and stick up for other black women - especially the younger ones because they deserve to be treated right, like humans and not means to and ends. We don’t have to make excuses for the people that use or hurt when they do that because they’re white men, famous or did other stuff that we like/respect (and if we care for those people we need to hold them accountable so they grow and change for the better). Even if that kind of treatment was more normal back in the day and women were expected and conditioned to just go with it despite their feelings, we don’t have to tolerate it now.

Mick never pressured her to do anything, tho! He never “forced” her to have threesomes and group sex with other women. It just sort of happened because he was sleeping with both P.P. and Marianne at the same time. P.P., who Mick started dating when he was still with Chrissie Shrimpton, also didn’t tell him about what was really going on. He wasn’t aware of her trauma. In one chapter of her book, Mick asked her about Ike and Tina, and she told him Ike was violent, but she never actually told him that Ike raped her. She also didn’t tell Mick that her ex-husband used to beat her. He was always curious as to why she was keen on staying in London, but she never really explained why. She wanted to make records under his label so she wouldn’t have to go back home or with the Ikettes. People weren’t really open about abuse in those days. You just didn’t talk about it. But the Stones all kinda knew about Ike’s violence. Keith, Brian and Bill were also messing with Ikettes and they would tell them about what was going on behind the scenes. And on top of that, even though she was previously married and had children young, P.P. was a bit of a church girl. A lot of Black women and girls in those days didn't have the freedom to explore their sexuality without shame or judgement. White girls can get away with a lot of things that we can’t because we're Black and we’d get called “fast” for it. I think that's where a lot of the hesitation came from. But Mick didn't understand that he's white and from another country. In the book she claimed, "I was a good girl. As boring as that all sounds. Even when I came to England, everybody thinks I’m all hip and everything just because I’m an Afro-American girl. I wasn’t hip! I was boring as hell. And Mick Jagger will tell you that. He was always saying, ‘Why are black girls so uptight?’ Because we have morals. That’s why."

#p.p. arnold #mick jagger #the rolling stones #rockstars #rock & roll #black women #interracial #abuse #marianne faithfull #ike & tina turner #ikettes #anon #old school tea #sbrown82

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pikahlua · 2 years ago

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Reading some of your comments, I've been thinking about why I dropped MHA a while a go as a Bakguou fan. I'm not sure if you want to hear it but you were asking anon to tell you the reasons why they think Bakugou's character arc isn't working for them so I'll say what I think. I think it's Deku. I personally always liked Bakugou and despised Deku from start. I liked Bakugou when he was bad and didn't even want development. If Horikoshi could separate them instead I would've loved MHA a lot more.

First of all, let me point out what an immaculate ask this is. I love it. This is exactly what I was asking for. You have perfectly expressed your feelings without saying anything to provoke or upset me. I have every respect for your opinion despite not sharing the same opinion, and I would have this ask stand as a monument and example of perfection to the world. Kudos, friend.

Now, since you offered your opinion, I will respond to it with my thoughts. I hope to do so just as respectfully as you have.

So I feel for you. I did not “despise Izuku from the start” as you have, but I have come to a point in the story where I’m feeling that frustration with how slowly his character is developing, so I understand where a lot of the negative feelings aimed at Izuku particularly lately have been coming from. Even though I like him, I don’t like him nearly as much as I love Katsuki (I think that’s obvious), and while my frustrations haven’t made me STOP liking Izuku, they are still frustrations that can annoy me at times. Additionally, my perspective on the story has changed since I first started watching/reading MHA, and these perspective changes put early story arcs in a new light that highlight Izuku’s character flaws when before I may have missed them. That said, I do love me some character flaws, so I wouldn’t say that made me dislike Izuku either.

And this is such a weird thing to say, but I kinda like that you despise Izuku. XD I don’t know what it is exactly about Izuku that you dislike, but if it’s anything other than “he’s just too whiny” like I’ve had to deal with in every fandom for decades, I have even more respect for you. Aside from character flaws, Izuku does have a few traits that can be gratingly annoying on occasion, and while they’re not bad enough to make me feel the need to air my grievances, I won’t deny that they exist. I think some of that is just by virtue of him being a shounen protagonist--some tropes are unavoidable.

Now, here’s the part where I have to speculate, because I don’t fully know what you mean by how you “liked Bakugou when he was bad and didn’t even want development.” To me, Bakugou “was bad” in two ways during the early parts of the story. One of those ways was how he plainly rejected norms and acted confrontational with everyone regardless of the situation (season 1 and season 2, basically), and I can absolutely understand why you would want more of that. But then there’s the plainly unhero-like behavior from, say, episode 1, which is a moment I treasure for what it means in his story but is not behavior I would want to see continued from that point because that would leave Katsuki stagnant and unable to demonstrate his actual heroism.

Now, that said, you claim to not want any “development” from Katsuki, which...I also don’t know exactly what you mean. Do you want his character PERSONALITY not to change? Or do you want his story character to remain static. I’m not sure. I can understand (but don’t necessarily agree with) the former feeling, but I definitely don’t agree with the latter. Katsuki’s character development, especially as begun in his Starting Line episode, was exactly the initial draw to Katsuki for me. I have already alluded to how sick I’ve become of lancer rival characters regressing after learning a lesson in other posts.

I can’t help but laugh (respectfully) at what I perceive to be the potential result of your desire to have Izuku and Katsuki separated. What you’re expressing sounds to me like you would actually prefer a story in which Katsuki is the main character. That’s the major effect of splitting these two characters up like you’re suggesting. And I can totally understand THAT desire, because Katsuki is the main character of my heart (looool). But I also have enough experience with narratives to know that one of the reasons I love Katsuki as much as I do, the reason Katsuki is allowed to be the character he is in so many ways, is precisely because he’s NOT the main character. Remember what I said earlier about some of Izuku’s annoying traits stemming from the fact that he’s the protagonist? Yeah, I don’t want any of that crap getting on my precious Katsuki Bakugou. Izuku is a shield protecting Katsuki’s character from getting bogged down in that protagonist bullshit, because Katsuki IS the formulaic main character of a shounen anime who doesn’t have to do any of that shounen anime protagonist bullshit because someone else is doing it for him. That’s a little too detailed of a discussion for me to go into right now, but that’s the summation of my feelings for that.

You say some things about wanting to watch Katsuki struggle and win as the underdog and fight and earn respect, and I think you’re justified in wanting those things for him. In my opinion, that’s exactly what we get from MHA. He hasn’t been given any help in those regards--everything he’s achieved he did so on his own. The ways in which Izuku has been involved have been as Katsuki’s inspiration in some situations. But that seems to be your sticking point, which I certainly can’t help you with or would even want to try to talk you out of. You don’t like Izuku, so your feelings make sense. For me, it’s more like the Izuku that inspires Katsuki is a symbol more than Izuku the person. Katsuki is seeing the things he needs to see in Izuku (not the full picture of Izuku) in order to push him in the areas he needs to improve. And when it comes to Katsuki’s fights and whatnot, I’ve said before I don’t think people should ONLY want him to have cool fights, but I do understand the desire to want to see one on occasion. It’s just that that feeling in me gets squashed every time I think about what Katsuki is in this story. He’s already a top fighter. No fight he wins will ever look like an underdog overcoming the odds because he’s been a combat savant from the beginning. The underdog aspect comes into play when he’s rescuing someone. It would be a far more amazing underdog moment for Katsuki to save someone like Tenko Shimura when it feels like that’s something Izuku, the rescue savant, wants to do, especially when the story seems to imply Izuku is destined to do so. So I guess in this way I’m getting those things fulfilled for me that you feel aren’t being fulfilled for you. And it’s gonna make sense then why I’m still into the story where you’re not. I hope you do get those feelings fulfilled in some other part of the story or in another story altogether then.

I do think Katsuki interacts with other characters, but I can understand why many people feel like it’s not enough. (That said, I think ALL the characters could stand to interact a bit more than they do, but at least we don’t feel like it’s TOO MUCH instead I guess.) It does seem like that’s an unfortunate consequence of the story coming to an end when Horikoshi seems to be running out of steam. I hope he gets to have all the scenes and moments he wanted in his story at least. And we will always have fanfic for those moments we didn’t get in the story proper.

Your not wanting Izuku to gain from Katsuki’s victories is...a very individualistic perspective (no, I do NOT mean you are being selfish). Like, there are individualistic- vs communal-focused societies, and many western countries tend to skew more individualistic whereas many eastern countries skew communal. Japan for sure is one of those communal-focused societies, and many of their stories will reflect this, such as in themes where “the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” Shounen loves its themes of friendship, comradery, and teamwork, so MHA was always destined to have a fair bit of that in it. I’d warn you a lot of Japanese stories will be like that, but I do wonder if you’ve had an anime you felt did give you want you want before. I personally don’t see Izuku’s wins as Katsuki’s losses--Katsuki has always in some fashion desired Izuku, which may have manifested as jealousy or yearning for friendship or comradery (or whatever, depending on who all you readers are). If you didn’t like that about him from the outset, I’m afraid you were long doomed for latter parts of the story. I’m not gonna say anything that will make you feel better about the likely ending to MHA in that regard. I happen to like where things are going (at least the things I can TELL about it, since I’m guessing as much as anyone else about it).

(And I mean, calling what Katsuki did to Izuku “mellow for an anime character” is its own can of worms. We don’t even really know enough about their childhood and middle school years prior to 9th grade to be able to comment definitively on any of that, I would think. I will say though it’s not anyone’s job to attack or defend Katsuki for any of that in a conversation with anyone else. You can take what you need to from that situation.)

Again, thank you for your thoughts! I really appreciate them, especially because they actually provided me a constructive point of discussion and some meaningful insight into opinions like yours. You’re always welcome to send more asks! A+ Anon Award!

#ask pika #anon ask #katsuki bakugou #anti izuku midoriya #this isn't an anti post but there are criticisms of izuku in this post that some izuku fans may not wish to read #meta #anime only friendly

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multismileee · 1 year ago

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Ranking OF Characters + their relationship because I need to rant before I combust :)

Wow what an episode this past one was… down below I’m going to break down my personal feelings and thoughts for each character so enjoy I guess & feel free to lmk if you agree or disagree.

Mew: I have mixed feelings about him, there’s no better way to explain it. He’s entering his villain era which ngl I love for him, they need to stop messing with the nice ones and expect them to stay quiet and sane. However, I have a bad feeling about him going to deep in his revenge against Top and Ton, and losing himself. He’s actually such a mastermind, the way he gets revenge is so satisfying. I truly don’t think he loves Ray like that and instead he thinks well maybe he’s who I need to, because at least I know he’s in love with me. Which explains why he said “perhaps the one I should love is you.” I don’t blame Mew, I think he’s genuinely confused rn, especially since Top was his first relationship. I just hope he's not using Ray, and he actually wants to explore how that goes. I just have this weird feeling that Mew is smarter than he looks, and he is purposely giving off a naive look to get away with things. UPDATE: I just saw this tik tok about how Top shared his trauma about fire with Mew (I actually completely forgot about that) and that’s why Mew decided to burn the paper / memory… that would explain both of their expressions, I NEED AN INHALER, THESE THEORIES ARE TOO GOOD.

Top: FRICK THIS MAN. Deserves everything that’s coming his way fr (#1). I felt bad for him slightly but that’s only because I do think he was slowly becoming better because of Mew. However, if he was insecure about Mew and Ray, he should’ve just asked. Instead he let Boston (I’ll get to him soon) of all people talk him into believing that more happened that night. Then, sleeping with his bf’s best friend to ‘even the playing field’ was so disgusting. I give him like half kudos, actually more like 1/8 kudos for stopping Boston in the elevator (the bare fricking minimum but it’s a lot for him) but he should’ve just owned up to what he did and talked to Mew. Instead he had the nerve to be jealous of Mew and Ray, even going as far as to accuse Mew of sleeping with Ray EVEN AFTER he got revealed for cheating. I also hate the way he says stuff like “I will make you fall in love with me again” he always sounds so conceited and arrogant. I hope he realizes that Mew is the best thing to happen to him and grovels to his feet.

Boston: I’m in awe of how awful this man is, like just when I think there’s no way he can be worse, he proves me wrong. Deserves everything that’s coming to him fr (#2). (Side note: can we talk about how talented of an actor Neo is??? He’s so good at playing Ton!!! I think he is narcissistic because I don’t understand how he can be so oblivious or ig non-caring of everyone else’s feelings. Even when it was discovered that he slept with Top, he turned it all around and told Mew that without him, he wouldn’t have been able to get Top… THE ABSOLUTE NERVE OF THIS MAN. Mew was so real for kicking him into the pool and punching him, because he needs it beaten into him. I also find his character fascinating, I noticed a couple of times how he will purposely change his calculating expression to one that is drunk and oblivious to everything. There was the time they were at the bar and he calls Ray a burden (I need to make a whole new post if I wanted to rant how much I hate that they call him that), and again when they were celebrating Mew's birthday. I do think that some of this detachment and not caring stems from the fact that he wants to move to pursue his photography, so he thinks "why care, if I'm leaving it all behind"

Nick: He's another confusing character, I just don't know how to feel for him. I mean at first I felt bad for him because he genuinely likes Boston for whatever reason, but seriously the way he goes about EVERYTHING is so wrong. Firstly, his interest stems from him snooping in Ton's phone and then proceeding to j*rk off to him like... that's so messed up. Then he takes a photo of himself, and okay that leads to them sleeping together. No matter how much I dislike Boston, he did say from the beginning that he wasn't interested in a relationship, he made it clear. Therefore, really Nick didn't have any reason to do the things he did. THE TAPE????? That was so so messed up. He not only recorded him without his consent, he then shared that with Sand. I can't even feel bad for him anymore, he's just so delusional and lost, and I just want him to find someone else and realize there's better out there then Boston. I wanted him to stop trailing over Ton like a lost puppy. Also side note: the way he said "I'm nasty too" when talking to Top, okay Nick go off ig. I need him to have his "idc" era so Boston will be the one beginning for him instead.

Ray: I was literally defending Ray since the beginning (still kind of am) but honestly, I'm so disappointed. There's so much more to his character then what meets the eye. I firstly want to say this and get it out of the way, FRICK RAY'S FRIENDS... every single one of them. It was obvious from the beginning that he had drinking problems, and yet it doesn't seem like anyone has tried to talk to him, to help him realize he's struggling with alcoholism (I know Ray is an adult, but addiction is not always easy to see, if a friend of mine was obviously struggling with something, I would help however I can). And before anyone goes "But Mew was there.. blah blah" I will shut that down rn. I appreciate Mew being his emergency contact, I really do but the way he acts sometimes sounds condescending. DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE CONVO IN THE BATHROOM ON MEW'S BIRTHDAY: Him saying "You're going to die before 30"???? How could you say that knowing he was/is su!c!dal. (Sorry I went on a tangent when I was supposed to be talking about Ray's characterization). Anyways, I feel like since he's never had a genuine friendship or someone who wants him not for his money, he latches onto Sand. (I know their "relationship" starts off of money but later it's more). Another reason I say this is because at Mew's birthday, he tells Sand "If you want money, sleep with me" which I think is from his insecurity that Sand doesn't actually want him, and that he would end up alone again. His mom is dead, she was never comforting or close to him. His dad (frick him) only cares about the car and didn't care that he was in hospital. (I'm still curious what he asked Sand to do). However, I think this shaped him to start taking advantage of Sand. Just like Boston, Ray did make it clear from the beginning that this was in no means a relationship so he's not technically in the wrong. It just sucks, because you can tell he is at least attracted (it actually runs deeper, I know it) and I truly think he only loves Mew as a friend, and because he was just so glad someone was there for him when he needed someone the most.

Sand: BEST CHARACTER OF THE WHOLE SHOW FR FR. He deserves the whole world, and I will defend him until the end, he can do no wrong. (Okay so it was wrong how he manipulated Ray into exposing Top and Ton but honestly, it needed to be done.) I love how he was just minding his own business, living life until Top made him angry.. Then he woke up and chose violence, causing everyone's dirty laundry to be aired. I really felt bad for him and Nick in the scene when they were hugging because they are literally two feathers of the same bird, they are in the exact same situation. I love him and I'm glad he knows his worth (I say this because in the preview of ep 8, he says "I'm not your rebound") IKTR SAND, YOU TELL HIM!!

Cheum: Girly needs more screen time fr :( They need to show more of her and April, I loved that they showed them communicating their issues. I also think it's hilarious how she tries to stop fights, like she screamed for Boston and Mew to stop fighting but didn't jump into the pool LMAO or when she sprayed everyone with water when Top came to see Mew at the hotel. I think she knew about Ray's feelings for Mew, or at least she found out at the party for sure. Either way, sometimes she needs to think before she says stuff, but I still love her anyways.

RELATIONSHIP RANKINGS

Ray + Sand -> even though Ray is on time out right now for the way he keeps hurting Sand, I still want them to be endgame. I truly think Sand brings out the best in Ray, and Ray understands Sand is a way that others don't. I do however want Sand to make Ray jealous so he will open his eyes and realize that Sand is the one for him. (Side note: I need the sad edits to stop, why does every freaking romance song fit them???) Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo and them >>>>> (that's literally their song, don't try to fight me).

Cheum + April -> cuties that haven't done anything wrong yet, and just love each other. I NEED MORE SCREEN TIME OF THEM THOUGH!!!

Ray + Rehab -> This would also be cute <3 I want this along with Sand and Ray, a throuple if you will.

Nick + self love -> he just needs to first learn his own worth before he can get into a relationship. I'm hoping the guy in the promo for next episode is an ex, and that they end up being good for each other. I do not want him with Boston, that's for sure.

Mew + therapy -> I feel like he's going to need some after dealing with Top and Boston, I hope he finds someone way way way better than Top.

Boston + detention center -> someone get this man and let him isolate to himself. Since he's so narcissistic, this shouldn't be too bad, he can listen to himself talk all day <3

Top + no one -> Since he thinks everyone wants him, I hope he ends up alone and realizes that he sucks, and how he treated everyone was not okay.

#only friends the series #ray x sand #top x mew #boston x nick #cheum x april #only friends spoilers #ray x mew #top x boston #spoilers ig #gmmtv

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merrilark · 1 year ago

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Very Belated Whumptober 2022 Prompt Fill ⛓

Prompt: "This wasn't supposed to happen." Fandom: Bad Samaritan (but can be read fandom blind!) Rating: Teen Word count: 731 TW: Mild violence, restraints, captivity, no shipping but intimate whumper if you squint, hurt no comfort Ao3: Reunion (if you like it, please consider leaving a kudos and/or a comment! they're always appreciated!)

“Oh, look at you… This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

The cool rag against his skin made Sean flinch, dragging him to half-consciousness. His cheek stung and his vision swam. When he swallowed, he swallowed around a throat thick and gummy with blood.

Sean tried to lift his head, tried to remember what had happened prior to waking, but found he didn’t have the strength nor concentration. His eyes rolled uncomfortably. The backs of his lids were gritty as if from eons of sleep. His lashes were crusted shut.

“Where…?”

“Shhh, shhhh… Quiet, now.” The rag brushed under his jaw and up to his battered lips. “You, Sean, have no idea how lucky you are. I wouldn’t have found you at all if it weren’t for the snow. All that blood… It was the only thing that led me to you.”

Snow. Snow, yes, that was right.

It was early January, just after his little brother’s Christmas break from school. He’d gone home over the holidays to see his family and had been on his way back to St. Louis. It had snowed the night before, the roads had been slick, and… Oh, fuck.

A spike of pain lanced through his skull. His lolling head was caught by a warm, gentle palm.

“Easy, easy… I know it hurts.”

Sean groaned. He remembered the bright flash of headlights as he had turned the curve—a car coming in too hard and fast. He couldn’t grip his steering wheel in time. Couldn’t swerve before—

The scream of tires against the asphalt rang in his ears. He thought he could remember his head coming up, smashing against something. The ceiling of his car? The windshield?

Fuck. Fuck. He couldn’t think straight. Everything was white with hurt.

Careful, his saviour cleaned the blood from his tacky eyelids until finally, blinking against the glare of sudden light, Sean could see.

A wide slash of teeth grinned down at him.

“If only you had been good…” Long, cold fingers gripped into Sean’s jaw and forced his chin higher. Cale tutted. “None of this would have happened.”

“You—!” Sean’s heart lodged itself in his throat. Panic gripped his limbs and he jerked, reeling backward—

But there was nowhere to go. Thick leather straps kept his wrists bound to the chair, and a third strap as broad as his forearm spanned across his chest. Sean thrashed. The metal legs rattled fruitlessly against the floor.

“No,” he gasped. “Nononono…! This isn’t real, you’re not real. I’m–I’m having a n—”

Cale struck him across the face.

Sean’s head whipped back.

“I can assure you, I’m very real, and you are in very big trouble.” Cale jammed his hand through Sean’s curls, knotted his hand into a fist, and held his head firm. “Do you want to know why? Hm? Because you had to play hero. You had to stick your snotty, filthy little nose into my business… You had to disrupt my routine!”

Spittle flew from his mouth. Then, gradually, the fist in Sean’s hair gentled but didn’t leave.

“You don’t deserve it,” he said, “but I’m going to be merciful this time, Sean. This,” a slight tug against dark roots, a whisper of a threat, “is a mercy. You weren’t supposed to get involved, but you did. You weren’t supposed to be an issue, but you were. I would go ahead and kill you now, but I had some time to think while with your Federal buddies, and I realised that instead of being angry with you, I should thank you. You made things interesting. You were a challenge! Not many people are capable of that. You should be proud. I am."

Cale leant in. His breath was hot against Sean's face and over-sweet with the smell of mint gum.

"So, you wanted to play in my sandbox, Sean?" he asked. "Be my guest. But if we’re going to play, you have to play by my rules. Understand?”

Sean gawped stupidly. A runner of spit and blood dribbled down his chin.

“I said,” Cale snarled, “do you UNDERSTAND?”

The next hard yank made Sean yelp.

“Yes!” he cried. “Yes, I…” A hiccup, a shudder. Residual pain clawed up and down his scalp. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Good boy.” Cale’s fingers uncurled from Sean’s hair and slid to cup his cheek. “Now. Let’s get you cleaned up. You look like trash.”

This was a prompt fill for Whumptober last year that I never posted. I kept messing with it because I'm a terrible self-critic, but this year I've decided to try to be less picky about my writing and force myself to post more often, even if it's short one shots. After all, it's doing no good sitting around in my drafts! I may as well share it so that other people might read and enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love writing whump so this mayyyy end up being part of a larger fic. We'll see! I don't post works as often as I write them, but if you would like to be notified via taglist when I post fic on Tumblr, feel free to let me know. Requests are also open! c:

#whump #whumptober 2022 #bad samaritan #cale erendreich #sean falco #merri writes #fanfiction #bad samaritan fic #bad samaritan fanfic #whump fic

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padawansuggest · 10 months ago

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with the whole ‘chapter kudos’ thing, do you mind people coming back and saying “oh wow i loved this so much, i cant click kudos again but if i could i would” kind of comments? because there’s been a whole campaign i keep seeing recently to encourage people to comment on stories more in that kind of way? sorry if i’ve overstepped in anyway, i’m totally just curious!

If that is going to be the entirety of the comment, please do not.

Listen. I don’t care about how many comments I get. I want sincere comments. I don’t care if that’s only like five comments. Comments don’t actually boost the story. In fact, there isn’t a single state that HONESTLY (and by that I mean with a sincerity) boost the fic because ao3 will never give you recs. We don’t have competitions to see what fic gets the most comments, and if they did I wouldn’t want to be a part of it.

My fics are fully free. I don’t ask for donations (tho I do have an Amazon wishlist because I am a person and like gifts and sometimes people wanna give them that’s okay with me) and they aren’t about some top breaking political news or some message I need to share with the world.

I don’t get why it’s so hard to understand that I like actual engagement with the story even so little as ‘wow; this was great’ and I’m getting annoyed with the extra kudos thing. It’s a useless idea to me.

If you want to do it once. Sure. But I swear to god if I start reading the same exact thing every chapter that’s when I snap. I don’t want to be trapped in an echo chamber where nothing ever changes and I could write my Magnus Opus and all I hear in return is ‘chapter kudos’ or ‘🩵💙💜’

Like. I am okay with ONLY getting those few sincere comments. I’m not saying I hate the people that only have it in them to comment chapter kudos or emojis. But just leave it off my fic. You don’t have to comment if you ain’t got shit to say.

So. Okay. If that’s what you wanna put, it’s somewhat useless but sure. But if every comment you make from there on out is a variation of ‘nice, wish I could give this a chapter kudos’ then I don’t want or need it at all.

For the most part, I write for me. And when I truly do have some worries about the fic I’ll either ask for a nice opinion (not like ‘I like it’ vs ‘I hate it’ but ‘this part was my fave’ or ‘I like how you-‘ type opinions; if you don’t like it it’s not for you and you shouldn’t be here) but those few sincere comments that seem so happy and tell me what they liked??? That’s enough for me.

If you’re worried you aren’t engaging with fics enough, just remember, you aren’t actually required to say something no matter what. If you have nothing to say, you have nothing to say. Nothing is better than something that makes the author anxious. Also literally a 💩 emoji is better than asking for the next chapter so also never do that or you’re just trash.

#comment etiquette #I get happier when Walmart sends me a text saying another prescription is ready babes #some people are happy with this but I’m not. I have stated my boundary and you guys are just. so offended #that you can’t figure out a comment to put on my shit anymore #so you can brag that you comment on every fic you ever read #even if that comment is a single heart emoji that makes me sadder and sadder with every email from you #just accept that I don’t want it because you aren’t actually required to comment if you have nothing to say l

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g-kat423 · 11 months ago

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You can tell r/ao3 is mostly readers and not writers with how they’re so adamant about being able to be shitty to writers. There’s constantly discussions about how bookmarks are “just the readers space.” These discussions only come up when a writer sees that someone bookmarked their fic with hurtful commentary and then they get flooded with “THeN dOnT ReAd iT” and other comments stating that it’s not their space because we aren’t emailed about bookmarks the way we are comments and kudos. Bookmarks are LITERALLY ATTACHED TO THE FIC, if anything, it’s a shared public space and it’s free to not be a dick to authors. It’s really no different than leaving a hateful comment, only authors have no control over what is left in their bookmarks and it’s there forever. Why should someone have to deal with that for a literal hobby? This isn’t goodreads, even then it’s not attached to a published author’s actual book. I also don’t understand this whole fight and why people wanna justify being shitty to writers so badly. Okay, and what if that writer is then pushed into deleting everything because they were discouraged by the inescapable hate in their bookmarks? Then everyone would be whining that there aren’t enough works in their fandom.

Imaging doing this with any other hobby. For example, let’s say someone is cosplaying here on tumblr and then someone reblogs the post telling them how ugly they are and how they don’t suit the character. You can’t undo someone else’s reblog, all you can do is block them and you already know if you reported them for harassment, tumblr wouldn’t do shit. Then imagine being rightfully upset and complaining on your blog about it only to get swarmed with “iTs ThEIR sPAcE.” Like, just don’t be a dick to people, it’s not that hard.

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russilton · 2 years ago

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Hi, I hope this isn't weird, but as I see this kind of discourse from one of my favourite author I just wanted to check in if that's a kind of thing you're dealing with too. Without any judgement to anyone. Is it really that important to you guys that we leave comments? Aren't kudos enough? And do you agree that writers have to answer to comments?

It’s alright anon I figured I might get a message like this and I do appreciate having the chance to share my piece because I utterly agree with Susi on every part.

Something that’s worth understanding is I do not have a single artist or writer friend who doesn’t face this issue. Every single one one them, without fail, puts their heart on the line to create and share fan work, and all of them, myself included, struggle with a lack of response. Every gif maker, writer, artist, edit crafter, web weaver, all of them live for the positive comments we receive, the praise. I don’t know a creative without a praise kink, frankly.

This has been true for every fandom I’ve been in since I started posting art online in 2011, and fic in 2017, but it is ESPECIALLY present in F1 RPF because the space is so small, and usually people are so used to clinging to anonymity that the space feels even smaller.

Long discussion under the cut, because I wanted to try and honestly explain the mental process behind why authors and artists ask for a comment.

Speaking from my own experience now (that I’d still put money on being a similar experience for others), posting work of any kind online is a bargain. Yes you do it for yourself in part, but if it was just for myself I wouldn’t post it. When you post, you make the mental deal of “am I willing to accept potential hate or disinterest in this, for the chance to receive love and praise on it”. If you’ve been here a while you’ve seen the anons I’ve received at times; transphobic, homophobic, or just plain hateful. Some were too hateful to even post. I have had an Instagram page make a collage of my art just to laugh at it. But I keep posting, because for me, the joy and community I receive from comments and tags on my work make it worth that bargain. There’s some work that isn’t worth the potential backlash to post. That’s why any of the nsfw art I draw never leaves my close mutuals. I’m not willing to share it online when the result of it would pale against the risk.

Creative work is a deeply personal and heart baring process. It cannot be done easily some days. Yes it’s fun and funny and entertaining at times, but most times when I’m writing, I end up stood utterly alone in my own mind with myself. I cant write if I’m too depressed, because that experience of being alone with myself is too painful. Even on a good day it can be hard. So when I choose to go to that place, remain alone to pour my mind into something I write or draw, it is an exhausting labour of love. It takes hours, I’m not a fast worker, some people are faster than me, some are even slower. I’m alone for all of it.

And so when you put that all together. The work, the creative process, the editing, the cleaning, the preparing for posting, the process of tagging and sorting work so it’ll be seen, then self promoting… the least we can ask for in return is a comment?

You have to understand, kudos or likes are great, but it’s a hand sticking out of the void and giving you a thumbs up. It’s silent, faceless, impression-less. Imagine sending your family a deeply personal message and the response you get is just “👍”. Yeah it’s technically a response, but it’s disproportionate to the Labour afforded beforehand. People posting online are seeking a human connection, that little snap of closeness all human beings through history have craved. A kudos doesn’t really satisfy that craving. I would rather get 20 kudos on fic, but every single one has a comment, than 1000 silent ones. It’s just a number, it takes half a second to press that button and move on. It makes you feel like a cheap commodity that’s consumed and spat out, and that doesn’t even speak for the shame of a thousand eyes looking at your work and saying nothing at all.

When you comment or leave a tag, it shows me you took a second to absorb what I’ve showed you. It slowed you down, made you pause or take a breath, it DID something to you, just like it did something to me to make it. That’s a connection, that snap of a bond. Myself and that commenter now share something, and usually it’s a simple act of gratitude that you see all the work I’ve done to give you something, even if the comment is just “I really liked this!thank you for writing it”. It’s a paltry amount of work compared to what happened to get us there. But I feel less alone for just a little while, just like that fic did for you.

I understand that is still hard to do on occasion. You may be tired, you may feel over exposed or sick, but again you have to remember how hard that creative worked to give you something. On tumblr at least you can still reblog without a comment and increase the chance of someone else doing so. Ao3 doesn’t have that. Even when people filter by kudos they still have to be looking to read something with those tags. It doesn’t do much for the author who is sat faced with numbers. Their work made you feel, think, or just escape your own mind, by commenting, you are giving them the chance to have a moment of the same.

I have a screenshot folder full of comments that have made my day. It’s packed with the words that kept me going, when I doubted I could write at all, when I wondered if my art was good enough. They make a meaningful impact on my life the way I hope my work does for others.

And then you have to understand how… ungrateful it seems, to have people go “well you don’t reply fast enough, so I’m not going to comment.” I understand we all want that connection again, of a reply, and that’s why most authors TRY to do so!

But that author or artist has spent hours creating something for you, they have emotionally laboured and worked and bared themselves, asked you just to say something as your payment, and then you have asked to be paid for that honour? That’s like going into a store, paying for something, and then going “because you didn’t give me an extra gift for paying rather than stealing, I shall simply steal it in future”. That’s kind of insane right? Especially when the work you receive was hand made with love by the person sat in front of you.

I don’t know a single creative person on f1blr I haven’t seen go “I don’t know if posting this is worth it”. And that should worry people. If you come online and devour content without return, you are going to see people stop posting and walk away. I’ve seen it happen over and over and over. This isn’t the hungry hungry caterpillar, you aren’t 5, you don’t get to have your cake and eat it too if you don’t pay the baker who made it. In this case nobody in fandom has the incentive of making a living to continue. I can’t buy things for myself with comments. We don’t get paid. Instead they’re just going to stop sharing and return to only giving cake to people who respond. I’ve got art and fic I wrote only for my friends, because I wanted a reaction and giving it to them was a sure fire way to get it, because I trusted them.

If it becomes more effort to post than it does the return, I simply just won’t. I owe nothing to a faceless void, and so said void should try being less faceless. That’s all people are asking for.

#asks #anonymous #Mark’s fic tag #mark’s art tag #wank/rants #wow long post #reblogs fine #cause some people need to learn

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