#idk what it would ultimately be about but i have some scenes in my head

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

💎Treasure💎

The night just gets better and better.

Smut - woozi x fem!reader

Just wait til I pull the uno reverse 😈😈😈

AO3 link

Word Count: 3.9k

CW: pwp, anal(f!recieving), analingus (f!rec.), fingering, cunnilingus, some anxiety and comfort for flavor

˚⟡⊰⋆:💎:⋆⊱⟡˚⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨🍑୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆˚⟡⊰⋆:💎:⋆⊱⟡˚

Your ears are still ringing as you enter the cool black SUV parked outside of one of the side doors meant for talent. Your boyfriend, Jihoon, accompanies you with a hand placed on your lower back, guiding you into the vehicle. The chauffeur takes off down a road lined with tall buildings and bright shining lights while Jihoon begins talking a mile a minute. He’s ecstatic because you got him tickets to his favorite artist, Bruno Mars, complete with backstage passes and VIP treatment. He acted cool when you gifted it to him months ago for your anniversary, but now, he’s practically jumping up and down with joy after seeing the show. He can’t even stay still in his seat, telling you his favorite parts of the concert and how cool Bruno was in real life. 

“I can’t believe I got a signed album!”

“Yeah, it’s so cool! I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” you smile and think about how much he deserved a break from his schedule for this little vacation. 

“What was your favorite part because mine was when-” and he continues to describe the concert that you also went to while you look at him fondly. 

You worked with his manager in secret to schedule along with his time off, making sure the show wasn’t in the middle of comeback season. There was one long weekend available, but the show was in Japan, so you decided to make a whole trip out of it. A nice hotel in Tokyo, some touristy sightseeing, a concert, and food, of course, all made for a wonderful getaway and perfect present for the busiest man on the planet. That alone is a great gift from the perfect girlfriend, but the night isn’t over yet, and you still have some surprises up your sleeve. 

He finishes his long recollection that was fueled by barely one breath, forgetting that conversations are usually two-sided. He's dazed with a look of pure amazement stuck on his face. To get him back to reality, you begin to entice him with the next phase of your perfect gift master plan. “I still have one last present to give you,” you tease, meeting his eyes which were the size of the moon and twice as bright, “but you have to wait until we get back to the hotel.” You punctuate the sentence with a playful wink. 

His face softens as he says, “You have already done so much for me, babe. You can’t top yourself, honestly, and you don’t have to.” He leans over and chances a soft kiss on your cheek, not wanting to show too much PDA in front of the driver whose focus was on the road ahead of him. You shift around in your seat, partially due to the excitement building in your chest for his reaction to your final gift and partially for another reason. 

The driver pulls up to the glass doors of the hotel, steps out of the car, and opens the door for you both. Jihoon hops out first and reaches for your hand to help you as you awkwardly start to slide following him. He has been so excited all day that he didn’t notice the extra few minutes you took in the bathroom getting ready for the show. He didn’t notice how you awkwardly fidgeted in your seat waiting for the show to start. You let out a small laugh to yourself that also goes unnoticed. 

Once the doors shut to the elevator, finally creating some privacy from a crowd of thousands of eyes, Jihoon’s hand drops inside of the back pocket of your jeans and squeezes your ass. Ironic.

“Can I assume that the final present has something to do with me getting to have your body all night?” he says way too calmly in that dark voice he gets when he’s horny. His hand is subtly kneading the handful of flesh.

“Maybe,” you answer. Your eyelids lower and lips suddenly meet your neck in kisses light as a feather that only leaves you wanting more. Between packing, going over the itinerary, and double checking all tickets and reservations, the two of you hadn’t had much time to do anything intimate. You’re sure, however, that the wait will only contribute to the evening you have planned. 

The elevator opens and you both make it to your room still somehow fully clothed. Jihoon’s hand never leaves your back pocket, even when he takes the keycard from his wallet to open the door. Once inside, your hands find their way under his baggy t-shirt, slowly mapping muscles until you are pulling it up and off of his body. You leave your shoes at the door and move closer to the bed, beckoning him to follow.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one getting a present.” Jihoon chuckled, surprised by how eager you were. 

“I’m just getting you ready to unwrap it.” You take a few steps back until the back of your knees hit the plush white sheets of the bed. Jihoon follows you and places his hands on the button of your jeans and achingly slowly undoes them and helps you shimmy them off. His first surprise is that you are, in fact, specially wrapped. He quickly pulls your shirt off to discover a full new set of red lace lingerie with ruby red rhinestones beaded throughout the piece, giving the outfit a sexy sparkle.

“Well that wrapping is just too pretty,” he replies, biting his lip. His eyes rake over your form that’s wrapped in his favorite color. “I might want you to keep it on.” He gets close, and, in an instant, your lips collide in a hungry kiss. His hands roam up and down, stroking the lace slowly making you shiver as the light touches glide over your most sensitive areas. A hand goes to cup you underneath and rub you slowly up and down.

When the lips find your neck again, kissing, licking, and sucking right under your jaw, you breathe out, “Honey, trust me, you’ll want to unwrap your present.”

Jihoon moves to sucking the exposed parts of your breasts and looks up at you through his eyelashes. Those eyes have an innocent curiosity in them that makes you feel like you're on top of the world. Wordlessly, you detach your boyfriend from your chest with a wet pop, and sit on the bed. His eyes follow you as you scoot back until you are poised in the middle of the bed. Even just the simple sight of you moving seductively has Jihoon hot and getting hotter. His hand reaches to palm his stiffening cock through his pants. You bite your bottom lip and enjoy watching him as he slides off one layer of fabric. Following his movements, you remove your bra and take a nipple between your fingers while staring at him. Seeing the gorgeous tent in his underwear just makes you more excited. Shivers of anticipation slide down your spine as he crawls his way to you on the bed. 

“Go ahead,” you say as you prop yourself up on your elbows,” unwrap your present.”

Slowly, Jihoon hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and drags them down. He makes eye contact the whole time until you start to spread your legs wide for him to see everything. His gaze falls down to where you have revealed your gift to your hardworking, dedicated, super sexy boyfriend. A red jewel comfortably sits, decorating your ass like it's a royal treasure. A plug is snug in your hole keeping you stretched and ready for the evening ahead. 

Jihoon’s eyes fly open wide as he realizes the implication of the plug. He reaches to grab your thighs and folds your legs to get a better look. He places one leg on his shoulder to free his hand to spread your cheeks open and thumb around the jewel.

“Did you have this inside the whole time? Like even during the concert?” he asks, surprised. You nod excitedly. “This…” He’s mesmerized by the way the jewel shines in the dim light. By how your body just moves according to any of his whims. By the strain in your face as he touches you in that way that makes you so needy for him. By the way your mind works to craft perfect presents for him. “This beats the concert. By far.”

You remember all the times Jihoon’s mouth ventured a little too far past your wet hole to the tight ring of muscle below it. You remember how you had to slap him away and scold him because you weren’t prepared and wanted to do it right if you ever decided to do it. You remember all the times he’s taken you from behind and teased your ass with his hard dick, rubbing the tip against it, or his fingers which longed to find their way inside. He had been denied time and time again, but now, you were willing and very ready to have him explore a new part of you. 

“Happy anniversary, baby,” you say as you reach to press the jewel. Jihoon watches intently as you teasingly pull at it just a little just to push it back inside. His lips are parted and you swear he’s breathing through his mouth and trying not to drool. The motion makes his cock twitch, and he’s resisting the urge to cum just from watching you. A few soft moans slip from your lips when Jihoon’s fingers begin to move again, rubbing at your rim then subtly trying to dip in with the plug.

You only feel a moment of discomfort as he tries this, but you don’t let it show. Instead, your hand meets his and guides it to grab at the jewel decorating your entrance. He pumps it in and out a few times, which you encourage with a sharp inhale and a sensual mewl. He braves to begin removing the plug at a snail’s pace, watching as the round base stretches you in a way that almost makes him drool. Your face contorts a bit at that part as you are still unfamiliar with the sensation of the thickest parts of it.

Jihoon stalls his movements when he glances at your face. “Are you okay? Am I going too fast?” His concern is genuine and comforting. He doesn’t want to mess up or hurt you somehow, afraid it might cause this sexual experience to be a one time endeavor. You move to get a little more comfortable, taking your leg off of his shoulder and grabbing a pillow to prop under your lower back. 

“I’m okay,” you laugh, “Don’t worry.”

“You know I’m thicker than this,” Jihoon says, continuing his careful removal of the plug. The largest part passes, sloping to its smaller tip. Jihoon takes a moment to examine the object. It’s smaller than what he expected, but its size makes sense for easing a beginner.

“I know,” you swallow with anticipation. 

“And I’m much longer,” he says more teasingly. He discards the plug and grabs at your butt, spreading the cheeks and taking a look at his real treasure left behind. The sight of your stretched, blushy hole makes his heartbeat quicken, pumping all the blood in his brain straight to his dick. 

“I know.” You can see his eyes and how they are stuck. You’re slick, both from the wet mess of your pussy from all the dirty talk and anal play and from the copious amount of lube now visible from your glistening asshole. 

Jihoon chuckles, “You really wanted to be prepared, didn’t you?” He’s dipping the tip of his finger inside the wet muscle, testing the waters and feeling the soft walls of the inside. There’s more lube than there needed to be for the plug but not enough for more than one finger to make it inside without the dry sting of skin dragging against skin.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to feel it at all. If it hurt, I wouldn’t have done any of this. Ever.” You gasp when he slides his full pointer into you. He exaggerates a pout on his lips before leaning in to kiss you once on the lips.

“Then,” he starts while pumping his finger, “I better do this right.” He takes a moment to glance around the room then asks you where the lube is. You point him to your bag and he retrieves it quickly. Before fully returning to the bed, he pulls down his underwear revealing his hard cock now red and soaked in precum. 

You know what it looks like, you’ve seen it many, many times. But now, even after the warnings you thought were kind of silly, it looks somehow more daunting. You are determined, however, to see your plan all the way through, and, most importantly, you trust your boyfriend not to hurt you. So far, he had been so slow and careful, even at the expense of delaying his own pleasure. He doesn’t show any discomfort on his face from being so hard and not getting much relief. It’s a testament to how committed he is to making you feel comfortable, even though it’s his present. 

Jihoon crawls toward you and takes his place between your legs again. With a pop, the lid to the small bottle opens and the viscous lube is spread around three of his fingers. He coats them all thoroughly. He leans in again to kiss you, his tongue seeks entrance. You melt into him and barely register the first finger entering. It’s a familiar feeling as it pokes and prods around inside. Soon, a second finger joins. That one, you feel. The stretch is not unlike the plug. Because it was in for so long, you had gotten used to it, even starting to find it pleasurable when it moved.

You moan as the third finger finally makes its way inside and moves alongside the other two. The moment that last finger starts to breach the entrance, Jihoon has his other hand working on your clit, to make sure you feel good while adjusting. His fingers dig into the sensitive bud as he spreads the three fingers. He watches as you drip from your pussy.

“God, you’re beautiful, baby.” He removes his fingers from your hole and grabs your waist. “I want you on your knees, okay?” 

You let him move you for the most part, liking the way he takes command and manipulates your body into position with his strong hands and arms. Your elbows meet the pillow that was once on your back and you decide to lay on it, cuddling it close and arching lower into the bed providing you boyfriend a perfect view. 

“Good girl,” he growls before his lips meet one of the soft flesh of your ass. He kisses and licks and sucks until a red hickey appears on your otherwise pure and unmarked flesh. He moves to kiss at your stretched hole, taking chances to dip the tip of his tongue inside. You’re so turned on from the dirty act. Jihoon is relishing in the fact that he can finally follow through on all of the fantasies he’s had about your backside. Fingers, tongue, and finally his hard cock can now experience the feeling of your tight hole around them. Your moans encourage him to go further, tasting the new, fresh, and clean walls that were once forbidden for him. He’s enjoying himself and taking his time, but he puts a finger in your very wet pussy and moves it the way you like, instantly finding that spot that riles you up and tires you out. He just knows you so well.

When the ache in his dick just is too much to bear, Jihoon pulls away from your hole with one last kiss, wipes his face with the back of his hand, and coats his cock in a liberal amount of lube. You tense up a bit when you hear the cap of the bottle again and then the wet sounds of him stroking his cock, making sure to thoroughly coat the whole thing. He teasingly slides it between your cheeks and groans into a thrust, using his hands to hold them together.

“Are you ready, baby?” he says, his voice low in his chest. You squeeze your eyes shut and hum your approval rather than talking. You are excited and want him to just do it already, but you can’t shake all of the fear and anxiety about the new experience. 

Jihoon grabs your hips. He sees that your hands are gripping the pillow beneath you tightly and your eyes are shut. He rubs his thumb in soothing circles and says in a much gentler voice, “Please let me know that you still want to do this. I’m happy to get off any other way, and what you’ve given me so far has been amazing already.”

Your perfect boyfriend’s willingness to give up the climax of his perfect present brought you back to Earth from the anxiety spiraling in your head. You turn your head to look at him from your vulnerable and intimate position to reassure him. “I do! I really want to do this! I just got nervous is all. Please, Ji, I want you so badly.” You bring the mood back by wiggling your butt to bring his attention to it and tease him a little. 

“Good,” he breathes out relieved, “You know I never want to hurt you. I love you, baby.”

You don’t have a chance to respond because he slides his blunt, thick tip past the ring of muscle and so torturously slowly pushes just the head in. Instead, you just gasp into moaning desperately clawing at the pillow under you. Something about it being more than just his fingers, more than some toy, sends tingles through your spine. He’s making noise behind you and straining not to cum immediately. You urge him to do more, then he pushes his shaft in, inch by solid inch. The warmth and tightness is killing him and he has to pause multiple times to regain his composure. It’s a miracle he hasn’t let it all go, but he powers through with a death grip on your hips that will no doubt leave fingertip size marks.

When he finally bottoms out, you're both panting, taking in air like you forgot how to breathe. You settle into the feeling of being so full in your ass. The sting of his fingers digging into your flesh is the cherry on top of all that you are feeling. It reminds you of his absolute dominance and power over you. You would do anything in the world for him, and he knows that. 

“How do you feel? Talk to me, baby.” Jihoon sounds almost desperate.

“Good,” you mewl out, “Go ahead; you can move.”

The grip on you softens, but still maintains its power in moving you along with his careful thrusts. Jihoon pulls out almost all the way and fucks his way back in leisurely. His pace turns rhythmic and his hips meet your ass in a clap like gentle applause. He bends forward, overwhelmed by the perfect fit of his cock inside of you. His choked moans drift into the air. He brings one hand to meet your clit, rubbing in circles. What were once staccato breaths turn into long whines that make Jihoon move his hands and hips faster.

Jihoon watches the ring of muscles as it swallows his full length over and over again. He’s becoming overstimulated by the whole experience, every movement and sound going straight to his cock. He lifts the hand not working on pleasuring your pussy and gives your ass a slap then holds on tight to the flesh. Your surprised gasp that turns into a high pitched moan encourages him to do it one more time. He fucks into you harder, relishing in the sight of the flesh beneath him jiggling.

“Shit, baby, I’m gonna cum,” he says in a strained voice like he’s trying to hold out just a little longer.

“Cum for me. Cum on my ass,” you beg for his release. It all felt very good, especially his fingers giving your clit special attention, but you were also ready for his focus to be on your release. Normally, he let you come first and often, but tonight was all about him. He obviously won’t let it be for long, but for now, he listens and lets go of all of his stubborn resolve.

An emptiness sets in your bones as Jihoon pulls out, leaving you gaping and twitching. He strokes himself until long ribbons of milky white splatter on your backside. Stars accumulate in his eyes, and he almost screams out his moans. If either of you were in a clearer state of mind, you would be worried about being in a hotel where other people could potentially hear you. But nothing else in the world matters more to Jihoon than watching his now cum-covered girlfriend’s gaping hole. 

Though he’s spent, Jihoon bends down to once again lay kisses on your ass. He pecks at the red marks left by his tight grip and spanking, making sure the pain doesn’t linger on your skin. He kisses your bright red hole as the gape closes. Finally, he makes his way to kiss your dripping wet pussy. You scoot back toward the sensation of his lips parting to let his tongue lay flat inside your labia to lap up all the liquid pleasure still dripping from your cunt. His hand returns to its spot on your clit as he eats you out from behind to ensure that you finish just as explosively as he did. 

“Please, cum for me, pretty girl,” he whispers before pumping his tongue inside of you. Your face twists in satisfaction from finally getting stimulation inside of your pussy. He pokes and prods his tongue at your walls until you convulse on his mouth, and scream into the pillow beneath you. You collapse onto your side, panting and very tired. Jihoon crawls lazily up the bed until he’s pressing himself to your back, and his arms capture you in a comforting embrace. You use the last of your strength to turn to face him, bringing your hands up to cup his face and kiss all over it.

“You never said it back.” Jihoon’s gaze pierces through you. You look at him confused. “I said that I love you, and you didn’t say it back.” He puffs out his cheeks cutely and pouts, looking way too innocent for a man who just fucked you into oblivion.

You giggle at how ridiculous it is that your boyfriend could be so breathtakingly sexy and cool ninety-nine percent of the time, but when it came to reciprocating an “I love you”, aegyo was suddenly his favorite tool to use. “I love you, too, Jihoon.”

“That’s what I thought,” he says, pretending to be cool again. He brings you into a kiss again, and you feel like you could die in this moment and be perfectly content. It was a fun experience and you are very happy that Jihoon enjoyed himself while exploring the previously untouched part of you. You do, however, find yourself wondering for even just a second what it would be like if the roles were reversed. You save that thought in the dirty vault in your mind and just enjoy being in Jihoon’s arms.

[tteokdoroki]

✩ — ANGELS SHOULD NEVER FALL THIS FAR FROM HEAVEN ⁀➷ everyone believes satoru gojo to be an angel. your mother considers her new son to be a blessing, even if he’s bratty and spoiled. but never once did think teasing him would make your step-brother to act on such ungodly desires. (3.2K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, pwp, college!au, religious imagery, step-cest, groping, fingering, ‘just the tip’, exhibitionism, clothed sex, male masturbation, slight degradation, bratty behaviour, use of oneesan, unprotected sex, ruined orgasms, cumplay, fem!reader, step-bro!gojo.

things to note. lol sorry it’s been a while !! trying a new layout also posting this into the void while i work on kinktober eee !! idk i’ve had a rough time trying to write a one shot so im glad i could make this !! special thanks to @kishibye for beta reading. i hope you enjoy this bestie boos ily <3

“what are you doing?” there’s a sharp edge to the tone of satoru’s voice, splayed across his tongue that holds back a stream of curses. his eyes speak fury in their piping hot flames of wild cerulean as he watches you enter the kitchen and shoot straight for the snack cupboard.

you can feel the weight of his gaze as it crosses the slopes of your body, from the back of your head, twirling around your curves before ultimately falling to your behind.

playing innocent, you stand on your tip toes and grasp at the bag of chips you’re after. the ones on the top shelf. “whaddya mean ‘what am i doing’?”

“what do you mean what do i mean?” your step brother retorts childishly, as if you’re two kids fighting on a playground at recess.

you click your tongue and pay him no mind. “don’t be such a baby, satoru,” you wave a hand in his face in a haughty manner. “use your big boy words.”

gojo suppresses a whine when your shirt rides up and reveals your skin to gorgeous eyes. he lets it gargle around in his throat like the sting of cool mouthwash, before striding over to you — grabbing the chips and slamming the cupboard shut so hard it makes you jump.

“you can’t just walk around dressed like that.”

he gestures to your get up — the clothes you wear when nobody’s home. your sapphire silly and scallop-edged panties, your old and ratty band t-shirt haphazardly thrown on.

“why?” you turn around to come face to face with your younger (step)brother, noting the way his stare hones in on the plush meat of your thighs as you squish them together — leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“my friends are coming over.”

“so, what’s the big deal?” there’s something about pissing gojo off that entertains you. he’s a brat by all means, raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and daddy’s dollars tucked into his pockets. whenever there’s a problem, all it takes is a classic ‘toru temper tantrum and your parents are on the scene to fix things for him. he’ll never know the hardships of being raised by a single mother, always having a little less than most. he walks around in his own little bubble of riches - and you can’t help but want to pop it. “shoko thinks i’m cool and geto will probably jack off to me later. it’s whatever.”

“but it’s not whatever,” you can practically see satoru fight the urge to stomp his foot like a petulant child — even going as far to have the audacity to pout down at you. “you’ll just embarrass me. so do us both a favour and put some clothes on, nobody wants to see all that ‘round the house.”

“do you own this house?”

“no but i-“

“but your daddy does. and daddy isn’t here! so shut up, satoru!” jabbing a finger into his chest, you smile up at your not-so-little little step-brother, evilly. “i make the rules.”

“oh fuck you. all you do is mooch off of my dad, princess. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your mom whoring it out for him.” he sneers in response, upper lip curling into a distasteful snarl like a dog with a stranger on its territory. his words, though cruel and foul, are far from the truth and you know that he doesn’t mean it. satoru is a brat that throws acid laced words at anyone who gets in his way — yourself included.

even though you agree that your parents tied the knot all too fast — barely giving the two of you a chance to get to know each other as siblings. they were in love and far too happy for the rivalry between their children to get in the way. you know that the fact pissed gojo off to no end, he hated how your mother doted on him and how he’d always needed to fight for his father’s attention. now it certainly wasn’t ever going to be on him. but the two women in his house instead.

your poor, spoiled, baby brother.

however, you won’t let his words and how he projects onto you, hurt you. “whoops! looks like i dropped my will to give a fuck!” whilst pretending to drop your snack, you bend over in front of him to reveal inches of beauty marked and blemished flesh, drawing hungry seafoam eyes to the bounce of showing your ass — testing your little step brother. “i don’t care satoru, i’m older.”

satoru’s mouth snaps shut after moments of wordlessly opening and closing. he stands frozen on the spot, as if he can’t seem to process the very idea that his older step-sister had just flashed him to prove a point.

but just when you think you’ve won, the silver-haired brat is pressed right up behind you, forcing your body to bend over the cold marble counter that instantly has your nipples hardening against the icy surface. heat rushes to your face, blossoming just under the barrier of your skin as his hard on nestles it’s way between your ass cheeks — a symphony of your surprised squeaks echoing through the modern kitchen.

“hey! what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

instead of responding, he pushes your head down against the counter — circling his increasingly wet erection against your behind, manhandling the globes of flesh back onto his dick. “not so fun, is it.” he coos down at you, voice chilly and full of condescending highs and lows. “yanno…you’re awfully mean to me.”

saliva pools on your tongue, weighing it down in your mouth like a paperweight as satoru’s girth slips downwards, seedy tip brushing over panty clad and your swollen clit. “aren’t oneesan’s s’pposed to take care of their baby brothers?” his breath is hot and ragged against your ear as gojo haunches over you, caging you in like a wild animal as you thrash and writhe under his touch.

you can’t even bring yourself to feel an ounce of shame when gojo’s left hand dances between your tangled limbs and slips past the frilly band of your underwear — ghosting over the throbbing pearl laying between your sticky pussy lips. “step…step brother!” you whinge at the tingle of pleasure that blooms in your lower tummy and spreads like angel wings throughout the rest of your body. 

satoru takes turns playing with you, alternating between his nimble, skilled fingers and his seedy girth that smears precum all over your inner thighs and panties. “like that even fuckin’ matters.” he laughs, twisted and proud. “could you get off like this? yeah i think you could…. you’re already so wet. just from grinding on your little brother’s cock.”

your legs grow shaky at his ministrations, beads of your juices oozing from your empty entrance to stain the man’s sweats, slicking him up as if it’s a signature of your claim. “‘toru!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into the depth of your skull. “m-more.”

“look at how fast you fold for me…” he pushes up your shirt so that the fabric pools around your waist — pawing at the fat there, massaging your hips softly as if he isn’t violently, cruelly rubbing one out on your achey pussy. “i don’t think you’re in a position to ask me for more, big sis.” satoru taunts, a heavy hand coming down on the bare skin of your ass, leaving a raw handprint in its place. “such a nasty slut, i bet you’d let me fuck you like this too. out in the open, where anyone could catch us.”

you yelp in surprise at the feeling of gojo’s messy, cream coated cockhead nudge at your entrance from over your panties — a slender finger pulling the soaked material to the side so he can fuck you with his tip. “oh, i bet you’d like that, huh baby?” he continues to purr, jutting his hips forward ever so slightly — feeding your greedy cunt a few more inches of him. satoru’s barely sheathed inside of you, but you’re already stretching deliciously around what he’s given you. he’s fat, girthy just as he is long and his mushroom tip drags along sensitive spots in your walls you didn’t even know you had.

 he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet.

you sob, wail and writhe on your little step brother’s cock, nails clawing at the marble counter while your breath escapes you. “satoru, please fuck me. ‘m sorry… sorry—!”

“shh big sis, you’re being too loud,” he cups a hand over your mouth. gojo eases two digits past your plump lips to pacify your cries as he shallowly pumps his wet cock into the heat of your sex — gritting his teeth to hide his own moans. “we…fuck, you’re tight as shit… we wouldn’t want my friends to know that you dress like a slut for my cock, would we?”

you shake your head with a muffled moan, suckling the taste of yourself from gojo’s fingers and breathing heavily through your nose. “no, we wouldn’t. that’s right. good girl, oh shit.”

satoru laughs, a little cocky and a little drawn out in a long, whiny whimper over the wet slap of the backs of your thighs in the front of his own. but he trembles from behind you, like his legs are about to give out every time your creamy cunt sucks a little more of him in. it’s a miracle he’s managed to hold you both up.

guilt wracks your body intertwining with the red blood cells coursing through your veins and carrying limited oxygen to your brain — your head practically empty at how your little brother ruins you on half of his fat cock. this isn’t right, this is completely wrong and yet you feel yourself coming undone — weak in the knees and shaky in your lips, the dam in your lower tummy threatening to burst at any second and flood the room in an erotic river of your arousal. 

pushing your head off of the counter, you lean into satoru, throwing your ass back onto him in rhythm with the harshness of his thrusts. everything is hotter, heavier and you can’t even think about how much of a bad step-sister you are when he’s dominating your body like this. the silky locks of satoru’s silvering hair press against your shoulder and he wraps a fist in the fabric of your shirt to pull you further back onto his cock. 

“‘m gonna c-cum, oh god!” you squeal, flinching as your juices crudely slap against the kitchen floor. “i’m so close!”

he pants into your ear like a desperate dog, fully wrapping himself around you and trapping you against the counter so that you have nowhere to go except towards your high. “yeah?” gojo breathes heatedly, temperate breath cascading over the back of your neck and only adding fuel to your fire of desire. “i can tell, you get like this. all needy ‘n cute when you’re about to cum.” 

his words have you clenching around his bulbous tip every time it pushes up against the pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had — your arousal catching in the pretty blue veins that spiral around the length of gojo’s shaft. “you don’t think i can’t hear you, big sis? late at night when you think everyone’s sleepin’….” his whistle tone moans are quickly replaced by deep growls and grunts that only just manage to escape from between the gritted rows of your step brother’s pearly whites. “when you stuff those tiny fingers into that tight little hole and—“

he reaches down between your mess of slick soaked limbs to land a harsh smack against your quivering pussy, sending the foamy ring of white where your bodies join flying about the place. “—and make yourself cum to the thought of me?” he continues, breathing ragged and laughing at you again when you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. 

“s-satoru!”

he soothes you with quick circles over your swollen clit and kisses to your shoulder — being careful not to leave marks. “oh did that hurt, baby? am i  the mean one now?” licking a stripe up the side of your face and tasting the sweat on your glistening skin, satoru rambles on — filling you up with praises and copious amounts of precum. “you know i—fuck— you know i love you. my precious big sister, so fucking good to me. let’s make you cum, yeah?” 

you’re allowed to rut back on him for a little longer, since he loves the sound of his name whirling around messily on your tongue, all high-pitched and sugar coated for him. if only you knew how badly he’d wanted you, how pissed he was when his father went on to marry your mother. gojo has wanted you since the very first night you met — his every waking thought has been carefully carved to lust after you, think of your eyes, your smile, your lips. fuck, everything about you has satoru under some kind of spell. 

“r-right there. right there, t-there!” you chant the words like they’re the a prayer, as if they’re the only ones you know, allowing satoru to throw you through the loop of pleasure until you’re too far gone to stay on the ride. 

angling his slender hips upwards, his cockhead bares down on the gummy centre of your g-spot just has he buries himself inside of you — right up to the hilt. “h-here? this where you want me, big sis?” gojo’s amused gasp turns into a coo when you let out a meek hum of agreement, babling wild nonsense and drooling into the counter you’re pressed against. “mmhm, got you creamin’ around me already. so cute, so good when you listen. when you’re a good t’me, oneesan.” 

the honorific alone has your mouth running dry as if it’s been stuffed with cotton. though the syrupy pap, pap, pap of your sex says otherwise. it tells the truth of your sin.

and the thing that you don’t know about satoru is that he loves to give, feeding pieces of himself to you as he fucks you wild in the middle of your family kitchen. he wants you to have all of him, every corner and inch of his body just like he dreamed about. he knows it’s forbidden and that it’s wrong, but he can’t help but relish in the feeling of your pretty pussy sucking him in so selfishly, greedily clamping down on his thick base. 

he would give you anything. anything you wanted and asked for if you’d let him. his hands slip from your waist to intertwine with yours splayed out on the cool marble surface, using his last spurts of energy to drag you towards your orgasm and the deep depths of sinner’s paradise. 

“fuck me, fuck me, baby.” he growls possessively against the shell of your ear. “let go for me. lemme see how much you love your little brother—“

the crescendo of your pleasure is at an all time high, about to come crashing down on you like a tonne of heavy bricks. 

that is until the door bell rings, accompanied by the sound of geto’s voice from the outside of the house. “yoo, satoru! open up!” 

you’d think that you’d have been good enough for your little step-brother to keep going — to push onwards and let you cream all over him before he went to attend to his silly little friends. but he flips the script, pulling out of you just as you teeter over the edge to ruin your orgasm.

“no, no, please!” you sniffle, teary eyed with dissatisfaction sitting in your lower belly — the need to cum still there but the feeling of emptiness within your dripping walls taking over. “satoru…” you whine.

when you look behind you, he’s too busy finishing himself off — his black shirt between his teeth, sweats hanging low on his waist while gojo palms  his hard and heavy cock as he pleases. 

it’s coated in your arousal, shining under the artificial lighting in the kitchen and you watch with a pout as gojo jacks himself off to the view of your ruined cunt. he thumbs the seedy slit at the centre of his bright red tip, hissing through the sensitivity. he’s a picture perfect vision, appearing as an angel before your very eyes. a mop of halo white hair flop backwards with satoru’s head, rich sapphire eyes locked behind fluttering lashes that glisten with pearls of pleasure filled tears. 

you know not to be mistaken, you know that satoru is more like an incubus than the heavenly being he presents as. the parts of your brain with better judgement see him as the sinner who made you fall from grace, committing such a heinous act. the desperate side of you with a brain full of lust and smoke screens sees your step-brother as a god who controls all of your desires. 

you think you prefer that side of you more. 

meanwhile, a drop of sweat runs a track down the length of satoru’s neck, catching on the curve of his Adam’s apple as he swallows down his euphoric laments. you find yourself jealous that his own fingers are wrapped around his sloppy dick instead of drawing shapes against your aching clit. you envy how good it must feel for satoru when he finally cums. ropes of thick white sling around his knuckles, much paler in contrast to his pearlescent skin tone.

a deep, gravelly moan erupts from his hot mouth like lava, accompanied by curses and the stuttered syllables you recognise to be your name while he finishes himself off. gojo jerks his sensitive cock over your ass to paint you with the last spurts of his release. it’s a claim on you as your step-brother, a way in which he can show you that he always gets his way no matter what.

whilst still recovering, your step-brother drags a slender finger through the puddle of cum he’s left on you, and drags it down to your stretched little hole before pushing it against your overstimulated clit. “hmm, so pretty.” gojo grins, slow and sly, when you twitch and attempt to jolt away from him. then unexpectedly, he lands a hard smack against your bum — revelling in your sweet cry of pleasure, impatience and pain. “go put somethin’ on, will ya, sis? my friends are still waiting outside.” 

“i…i hate you.” you whimper shakily, brain frazzled from the situation. 

satoru might be a spoiled brat, but he’s not mean enough to leave you here a shaky, dripping mess so he helps you to your feet — tenderly fixing the hem of your shirt and panties back into place (failing to wipe his cum off of you beforehand). you’re still pouting from your ruined orgasm once he’s done, and he nudges the underside of your chin with a singular knuckle. 

“don’t worry big sis, i’ll come take care of you later. maybe i’ll even let geto watch since you love prancing around half naked for him too.” he teases, squishing your cheeks as you try to swat at him. “and you don’t hate me, you love me and this cock. clearly.” gojo sings and sends a cheeky wink in your before prancing away to open the door for his friends. 

he pulls his pants up as he goes, not minding the wet patch you’ve left on him. 

whereas, you scurry up to your room before they can greet you and gojo tells them that you’re feeling unwell. 

that day, you learn two valuable lessons: 

one —  never mess with a spoiled brat, it’ll never end well for you and gojo will always get what he wants no matter who pays the bills. 

two — geto really does like to jerk off to you, even more so when he watches his best friend punishes his older step-sister with enough orgasms to make her forget why she was in trouble with satoru in the first place.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[cranberryjuice-posts]

No good thing last’s and you’re the best..

Parings - Abby Anderson X Fem! Veterinarian reader

Tw- the slur dyke is used (I’m a lesbian I can say it) , uhh some angst idk

Synopsis - Abby loves you.. but she’s to scared of her what people will think of her

Abby laid with you in the small single sized mattress. The snow was softly covering the ground outside, the curtains were pulled over the large window inside her tiny apartment so you had the most privacy that she could offer.

“Uh huh.. so issacs top scar killer just so happened to forget to turn her dog in today right” you playfully chastised Abby for keeping Alice after hours. Her blonde hair was locked around your fingers with your faces close.

“Just because I have that dumb title doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to forget shit” she joked back and lightly kissed you, She squeezed your hip as she did. You moaned as Abby added tongue and giggled knowing where this was going— however your sensual moment was abruptly ended when Abby pushed you off of her and quickly got out of the bed when the front door of the apartment opened, stepping inside Owen, mel, Nora, and manny.

“Speaking of the devil” mel smiled. “Hey Abby”

Abby nodded and looked back at you for a moment. You stood up and fixed your shirt trying to make the scene look like you two were just hanging out.

The group started talking and began setting up to have a movie night together. Manny had found a three pack of the first scream movies on his patrol out. You rolled your eyes as manny started to share theory’s about what the movie would be like with Owen while Alice was snuggling up to Mel and Nora going through everything for the night.

“Shit..” Norah sighed. “I forgot lettuce and tomatoes for the burgers back at the cafeteria” she shook her head. Abby’s face seemed to brighten.

“Get started on the movie yeah, me and y/n will go grab it” she offered. Norah tried to say it was fine but Abby insisted. “Common we’ll be right back” she chuckled and walked out the door with you following behind.

——

The two of you walked in silence for a moment, neither wanting to talk about what the other was thinking.

Abby looked over. “I love you”

“Great” You spoke in a flat unamused Tone.

“Common babe please don’t do this” she grabbed your arm and pulled you aside into a lesser known hallway. You scruntched your nose and pulled away but ultimately failed as Abby was stronger. “I love you y/n I’m serious”

“No Abby.. you love covering your ass” you pulled your arm free and stepped back giving each-other space.. space Abby hated.

“Y/n—“

“I love you to Abby but it fucking hurts that your so ashamed to be gay.. you tell me how you can’t stand to be away from me and if you could you would give me the world but the second someone else is around your to fucking scared to say I’m anything but a friend.. if you want a friend just say that, I don’t have sex with friends” you turned and started to walk down the stairs.. once you two grabbed the extra condiments and returned back to the room you could tell your words had actually hurten Abby.

You knew how she was.. yeah being gay wasn’t really a problem I mean you were in the apocalypse for crying out loud but, you knew if people found out about Abby being a lesbian most would judge her and her reputation would slightly be tarnished.. you looked over from your spot on the floor not really caring about the girl being killed with the garage door on screen.. you could tell there was a haze in her eyes, they only did that when she was deep into thought.

Soon the group was passed out onto the floor mostly drunk tired and high.. you however were still up. And so was Abby.

You moved over and sat by Her. “I didn’t mean it..”

No response.

“Abby” your voice broke but she just grabbed your hand and looked you in the eyes.

“You.. have no idea how much I want to show you off.. I mean shit my girlfriend is the top vet in this place and she’s so insanely smart, patient  because you put up with not only mine but manny and owens bullshit but your also soft and kind” she grabbed your face and leaned into you. “I swear you know my body better than me.. no matter what you do you always make me feel more pleasure than I deserve”

Abby kissed you finally still speaking compliments against your lips. “And don’t get me started on your body.. fuck I have to retrain myself when you wear shit like this” she added as she stuck her hands under your top, Abby rested her hands on your waist and looked you in the eyes.. “I don’t deserve you”

You shook your head. “Abs.. all I want is to love you out in the open and not be thrown off you when someone walks in on us Making out” you chuckled hiding the hurt.

“I promise” she rested her forehead against yours. “I promise you I will give you the love you deserve” she squeezed your waist and kissed your temple. “It’s late and, I’d hate for you to get cold” she joked and pulled you ontop of her kissing you once again before laying back.

A couple days passed..

You were mentally complaining as you moved the heavy bags of dog food around. You carried the sack but before you knew it you lost your balance and fell… but you never hit the ground.

Standing behind you holding you with a sly smile was your favorite blonde. “Careful.. I’d hate for my favorite woman to get hurt” Abby joked and helped you stand up and grabbed the bag with easy.. you were slightly drooling over how Abby looked with her thick jacket and beanie on.

However you snapped out of it and shut the shed after Abby set the food down.. Abby looked around to make sure no one was looking before softly grabbing your waist and pulling you close to her. “You know” she spoke with that same dumb sarcastic smile that you couldn’t help but love. “Manny is gonna be out late tonight, he’s got some chick he’s gonna meet at one of his sex caves in another QZ.. so I was thinking maybe you would i don’t know maybe Wanna have a sleepover”

“We’re not 5 you can ask to hookup”

“Yeah but I wanna be a gentlewoman” she chuckled and kissed you softly.. in the corner of you eye you saw Mona, some girl in the WLF who always seemed to have a grudge out on you. You thought nothing of it, but that soon turned and bit you in the ass.

About a week later a small announcement had been made a out a winter dance. It was rare for Issac to allow you all to have a group party but no one complained when he did.

You showed up wearing something simple, just a pair of flared jeans a tanktop that showed off your figure and a nice flannel.. you could feel Abby’s eyes on you but you knew deep down she wouldn’t try to show you Any affection.. not with the crowd around.

—

By this point you were drunk and dancing with manny. “So you an abby? is there something” he questioned while spinning you but you just rolled your eyes.

“As if Abby” You paused showing some hesitation. “Abby isn’t gay she’s not into women”

“Uh huh”

“I’m serious” you chuckled and lightly hit him.

Manny laughed and shook his head. “All I’m saying is that abby looks at you like she wants to rip your clothes off.”

Before you could respond you heart a loud screeching noise, thanks to Mona grabbing the microphone from the man who was singing with a guitar.

Everyone looked over confused with some mumbling coming from a few people.

“Hello everyone” Mona spoke in a salty tone. You rolled your eyes and leaned onto manny. “As you all know Issac so graciously allowed us to have a party but what’s a party without some drama yeah” she led the crowd on and got some cheers.

“Abigail Anderson” she chided and your stomach dropped. You knew exactly where this was going. “Our favorite solider has been fucking around with Y/n the best veterinarian we have to offer” she chuckled sarcastically, everyone looked over and you could feel the harsh stares.. you knew no one would care but some of the older men and women seemed to really really disapprove.

Abby chuckled and gave a sarcastic response. “What?”

“You heard me Abby is a dyke” Mona continued. “Y/n’s her girlfriend”

You looked back at abby.. praying.. hoping she would tell them all the truth but you knew she wouldn’t. Abby just shook her head and laughed. “As if. Y/n’s great n all but I’m not gay trust me, we just happen to be good friends that’s all”

Some people scoffed and told mona to get off the stage. Abby looked over and started to walk towards you. You let go of manny however and walked out the cafeteria avoiding Abby all together.

——

An hour passed. You sat in your apartment crying when you heard a rhymthic nock one you knew was Abby. At first you didn’t want to open the door.

“Y/n let me in please..”

That’s all it took for your to cave. You opened the door and saw Abby standing out front holding a few flowers she must of stolen from the garden. “Hey pretty girl” she smiled softly and leaned forward but was pushed away by you.

You tried to shut the door but she caught it and slid in.

“We’re done” You finally spoke.

“What..” Abby’s smile fell and she set the flowers down. “Babe—“

“Get out abby.. your not gay remember” you spoke bitterly. Abby sighed and gently grabbed your hips but you pushed her away.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that” she frowned and soon realized how serious this was. “I love you y/n you know th-“

“Stop with this bullshit Abby!” You yelled with tears in your eyes. “Who gives a shit that we’re together! You always do this” your face now filled with hot tears you put a finger on Abby’s chest. “You always say you love me but never once do you actually try to prove it outside of the bedroom.. I said it once I’ll say it again. Get out” you as calmly as you could demanded.

“Y/n—“

“I don’t have sex with friends” that was the final thing you spoke to her before she walked out. You apartment never felt so empty and cold.. but if you’ve gotten use to the infected you knew you could get use to anything.

PART 2 is up!! 😋

Pt 2

[bambiilooza]

kind of a rant/critique on dt17

it is my fav show but this really bothers me. idk if my rant gets to the point but i hope u can get at least some of what i'm trying to say

i love gandra and then i realised how much of her character i just made up in my head. i convinced myself she had a great redemption arc. like bro she really didn't?? everything happens off screen. i still love her but i was watching swanstantine and she flash bomed webbers and dew and i was like WOAH and like why was i surprised??she would do that!!

but that makes her sudden redemption later so weird?? and yea ik she was always complcated and i get it but it was still SO rushed. i agree she always had good in her but i can't let go her actually harming and helping harming kids and not getting any on screen reprucussions other than anxiety huey ya know?

her and fenton just suck face in late s3 and like cute sure. but it leaves u feeling meh

they're so lame. i want them to die

back on topic. that's a problem with dt17 in general i think. they have SO MANY characters that that wanna do a lot with and they hint at such interesting things (eg : THE DELLA + GYRO DYNAMIC i'm obsessed with and have fanfictions play out in head but there are only crumbs in the show) but never do anything with them. or at least not enough. and u can say it's cuz it only had 3 seasons and yea i see that but it's just smth i wanna talk about

like this scene is adorable but can we talk about how gladstone and fethry ur supposed to feel like they are part of the squad in moonvasion but they're BARELY in the fucking show?? AND DON'T THINK I'LL FORGET HOW THEY GLOSS OVER FETHRY'S TREATMENT- the show sure did

by the finale, we're supposed to think they're this big happy family but like?? fendra developemt was all off-screen, gyro's bond with b.o.y.d is never developed after their reunion, may and june sure are there i guess. i love all the characters i mentioned but mostly cuz of what we can do with them further

AND QUACKFASTER IS A LEGEND. WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT HER MORE BTW. I LOVE THAT LADY. LOOK AT HER GO!!

i think it's a testement to the show's great character writing how much i love these characters that ultimately get very little screentime but again the fact they have so little to do is annoying and they can do so much with these characters and their stories still.

HEY ALMOST LIKE WHAT HUEY'S PODCAST COULD'VE BEEN HMMMMMMMMM

it's a strength how endearing the side characters are and the potential they have and it's annoying how there's like no official content rlly delving into the ideas they clearly had.

I LOVE FAN INTEREPRETATIONS SO MUCH CUZ OF THAT U GUYS SLAYYY

also WE NEEDED MORE GOLDIE. SHE'S THE BEST I LOVE HER

ok i have more thoughts but rant over for now. if anyone wants to talk about ducktales, plz invade my ask box.

i'm taking a break doing coloured drawings of them but i might post my sketches idk. i'll do the colour pallete requests i have in my ask box within the next week tho

i love u duckblr

[atopvisenyashill]

Worst things GOT did casting wise:

- making Dany too beautiful (+ styling her in a way that she never has a hair out of place, always wears BLUE - which makes her look peaceful and soft and angelic, not making her burn her hair off etc). I just think of that one official art piece that's in the illustrated AGOT book where dany is bald, with the dragons and sparks and frames around her and its so striking instead of the "beautiful angelic blonde women stand empowered with her tits out" scene we got

- casting Iain Glen as Jorah and not like. a random Lannister (like. Come on. He is a burly and ugly man... why are you casting one of the most beautiful men to play him.... this is how we ended up with dany/jorah shippers)

-making Joffrey too unattractive (this is not meant to disparage JG who is a great actor and seems like a really cool dude and i'm not saying he's ugly but I think from his very first scene Joffrey looks very punchable and it would have been so much smarter to make the audience .. relate to Sansa's infatuation with his golden looks. In my head (and in all the official art) Joffrey looks like a male version of cersei/a younger version of Jaime.)

- making Dany, Jon, Robb, Marg, Brienne etc 10+ years older than Sansa and the younger starklings .... It's not "the main characters and arya (who is so cool and can kill people) + the little children" it's ONE AGE group of equally important characters

Like I know people are upset at Ned/Jon etc being too attractive, WHICH I GET, but I feel like those were very vibe based casting decisions and i'm ultimately fine with that (I also think it's easier for the audience to root for someone if they're attractive so like. I guess they had to do it) but these other things resulated in people's perception of the characters being so wildly different from what they're supposed to be. The real reason people get so angry whenever someone says they wish tamzin had stayed is because they don't like the idea of daenerys not being this ethereal beauty (TM is beautiful but not in a conventional way) that they can fully root for without issue.

1. NO YOU ARE SOOOOOO RIGHT ABOUT THEM REFUSING TO LET DANY LOOK UGLY. it’s not to say tamzin isn’t clearly beautiful, but i think she’s beautiful in the same way gwendoline christie is, which is that she’s very striking and she has a strong presence but she’s not exactly what people picture when they say “typical hot lady” (which is Crazy these are all able bodied white women, like the definition of “beauty” is soooooo fuckijg narrow that tamzin merchant is ~atypically beautiful) vs emilia definitely is, and YES like everything from not burning her hair off to emilia being,,,,,fuller in figure than dany as a fourteen year old would be is just very clear that they saw dany different than the way she is On The Page. i mean i know people whack george for saying that she’s like a sexy funny lady or whatever but george never lets go of the fact that she’s incredibly young whereas d&d completely miss that part of her character.

i will say i Get the criticism of tamzin perhaps not picking up on the conlangs easily because one thing you can say for emilia is that she had a decent head for the conlangs, she’s even still partially fluent in dothraki lmaooo. but all the other stuff they said about why they recast dany it’s like. hmmmmmmmmmm.

2. absolutely right about iain especially because he’s similar to idk paddy in that he’s got CHARISMA but unlike viserys, they didn’t intent to portray him as a deeply flawed, antagonistic character they went in portraying him as like an objectively Good Guy dedicated to dany. he’s just so much less creepy and pushy in the show and has several scenes where he shows some moral backbone - that “yet here you stand” “yet here i stand” scene is sooooooo good for example, the fact that he actually apologizes for spying on dany, giving him the greyscale story & not having him fuck a valyrian looking woman in a brothel 💀, etc etc - and you also just lose some of the creepiness here because emilia is clearly a grown if young woman and ian is handsome, so it’s like. welll of Course you want to root for them to be together! and never mind that this is a Massive departure from their book characterizations!! again, they have this idea of jorah in their head that doesn’t match up with what’s on the page even a little.

3. i do get your point re: joffrey and i think this is my problem with aidan as littlefucker too - they’re too obviously villains and it makes ned and sansa look stupid. like, in the books we have that moment where robb almost decks joffrey which does seem to signal something bad but the crown prince being full of himself doesn’t mean he’s going to threaten his betrothed’s sister with a sword then get his ass handed to him by a toddler. in the show we get QUITE a number of scenes where joffrey is shown to be a brat AND as you say, just like aidan, jack has a Certain Look, he looks like a shitty jock who has allegations against him ajsjdj like irl when jack smiles he’s so adorable!! but in the show they REALLY play up his ability to channel a greasy aura ya know aksjd. when the point of asoiaf is often that villains don’t LOOK like villains, but some of our Main Villains clearly resemble typical villains in the show.

4. “it’s ONE age group of characters” NO YOU ARE SO RIGHT. like, there’s several years difference from robert to ned to cat to the twins to tyrion but they’re all the same generation of characters. there’s that exact same age difference from brienne to robb, dany, jon to sansa, arya, bran, with theon kind of similar to characters like jorah, who are old enough to remember The Before Times but aren’t quite in either generation. but because they wanted dany, brienne, jon, robb, and margaery to be more of a Typical archetype rather than an exploration of that archetype, they aged everyone up and essentially invented another generation between the “adult” characters and the “kid” characters. not to be super nerdy here but one of my favorite worked shoots in wrestling is one cody rhodes did where he was ranting about the way young wrestlers get put through the grinder and he has this amazing line where he sums it up as “old men talking, young men dying” and it’s not to say there aren’t a lot of old dudes Also dying lmao but you really see this where young leaders are often unprepared for their responsibilities and used as puppets by older men and you just MISS THAT when that whole generation is so grown!

it’s like they looked at those themes of war being terrible and all consuming and brutal no matter how justified you feel you are and went “wow war is brutal 😍” LIKE PLEASE????

[jaywalking-rogue]

Listen, I know that The Best Film Wrap was ultimately just a little silly mixed event that primarily focused on Nene's character development and Kamiyama chaos, but I've been rotating one particular moment in my head and I need to talk about it.

Event spoilers under the cut!

So I've been wondering, (while I'm very proud of her, look at her go), how and why exactly An jumped from being insecure and not confident in her acting ability literally a couple episodes prior to ad-libbing an entire scene? I know both Akito and An have been getting some lessons from Nene but that's not nearly enough to have that much of a confidence jump, right?

And maybe I'm looking too much into it, especially since we don't even get An's POV in this, but in my opinion it's because her acting partner was Akito.

I mean, they've been singing together for probably something over a year now and during this time An has definitely learned Akito's telling signs, when he stumbles or loses the rhythm or whatever, so you course she's gonna jump in to cover for him! It's almost an instinct at this point, it's what VBS do!

Akito losing his timing was supposed to be a minor enough thing that Nene, the director who's paying the closest attention to the scene, only notices something is "off" a moment before An cuts in. Neither Nene nor the other actors have a clear sign that something's gone wrong, but An's somehow paying enough attention to notice Akito acting off at the same time as Nene does, and at the moment's notice makes a correct decision to jump in and save the day. And Akito catches on immediately, too.

Neither Akito nor An have any prior acting experience but what they do have experience with is being on stage together. I don't think this episode would have gone in the direction it did if An wasn't absolutely confident she interpreted the situation correctly.

VBS bounce off each other so nicely and the way they're almost always ready to cover for each other (remember Akito dragging An into a wedding and her just rolling with it? Basically same thing), and I think in-universe this dynamic between An and Akito is exactly what made the movie work and why they've been able to act their best. These two are physically incapable of letting their teammates down in any possible way.

Idk, I just think they're neat.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Re: Rhosh kidnapping Louis. It’s accepted head-canon amongst several circles that in the book, Louis put up quite the fight before being overpowered. Louis has always been actually very powerful but always under-developed due to his hesitancy to feed from older vampires. Now, if he’s even stronger to begin with (though younger) in the show, as Lestat is older in vamp years, do you think that might come into play somehow? Like, Rhosh may still kidnap Louis, but we’ll actually see him fight back and maybe Gabrielle might help, and the two of them might escape? (IDK if Marius will be included this time) It’d be epic to see Rhosh’s victims gang up on him, considering who they are. But if not, then there is always the possibility of Louis escaping but coming back to deliver the killing blow to save Lestat.

Just some thoughts.

Louis in the books... was quite strong, especially after Merrick.

I can easily see him put up a fight, though even Marius failed to do so, ultimately.

Louis in the show... was not given the power-up of the Merrick event. Which is one of my problems with the way they did it, I talked about that, because Louis now does not have to face the fact that he can not die anymore. And him being forced to confront his existence is what ultimately makes him sit down and come to terms with himself.

That is missing in the show.

Louis got powerful blood on turning from Lestat (as in the book), kept himself weak through dietary choices, but also got some blood from Armand, at times at least.

Not enough to make him sun-proof, as we saw in episode 1x01.

IF the show does not add a Merrick-esque event on top (and I do not think they will, I think they think that they have done the necessary shifts with the suicide attempt in San Francisco), then Louis will not get that power up.

And without that power up he is a far cry from any kind of fighting back against Rhosh.

At least as it stands now.

Who knows what they'll do in the show. Maybe he and Lestat will share blood continuously after Akasha and the Body Thief, that would then have a similar effect, but ... we'll see.

In any case I would also think that the event with Rhosh will play out quite differently and with more involved.

Though I really, really, REALLY want to see the scene with the ax :))))

[gemsofthegalaxy]

Yes, Stolas did spring this on Blitz and he absolutely should have let Blitz process it, Stolas certainly created a scenario with a self fulfilling prophecy by scripting a conversation and being so sure Blitz didn't return his feelings that almost anything Blitz said would have gotten under Stolas' skin and been a sign of failure, probably

I do still want to challenge the idea that Blitz would be 100% blindsided by this confession and it's coming out of nowhere

Yes, as the audience we know much more about how deep Stolas' feelings are, we see it clearly and plainly on the screen, but it's not like Blitz has had 0 hints

One of the most telling scenes in the show was when Blitz was ranting to Fizz about how Stolas sees him as an exciting sexual conquest, but in the midst he lists off a ton of non-sexual, sweet things Stolas does like try to ask him about his day and whatnot.

We also know from the encounter with Striker that Blitz honestly kind of thought Stolas was invincible, he wasn't worried about him getting hurt and neither was Stolas at first- so why, then, in episode two did Stolas insist he needed a bodyguard and why did Blitz eventually go along with it? Why waste an entire day of work just to go to a carnival with some pompous asshole? To my memory they didn't even bang or anything like that. Obviously Stolas used some sexual language but ultimately he just wanted to spend time around Blitz, maybe show his daughter that Blitz was protective and capable or something, idk, and what could Blitz possibly conclude from this other than Stolas at the very least just wants to be around him a bit more?

These are only two examples from the top of my head, not even mentioning Stolas' excitement over the romantic context of the invite to Ozzie's and how he acted afterwards, and there are probably a few others I'm not remembering right now.

Obviously, none of this means that Blitz should have expected a sudden love confession or been prepared for it, but even in the start of the episode we see Blitz acknowledge he's not really sure where they're at, things are at risk of getting complicated and he's trying to avoid that, he wants it to stay purely sexual where he's comfortable but something has given him reason to suspect it's not, because his entire half of the song is him declaring he's worried about Stolas trying to change their arrangement so he's gotta focus on the sex.

Again- Stolas should have given him a minute. But this did not come out of nowhere on his side of things and acting like Blitz has 0 clue that Stolas has deeper feelings for him is ignoring, like, large chunks of previous episodes and even parts of this episode that have established otherwise.

[sideprince]

A movie question I wanted to throw your way: what do you think about the decision to use a decent amount of physical acting on Rickman’s part for comic effect? I’m thinking his snatch of thin air in Philosopher's Stone, his creeping along the table towards Ron and Harry in Chamber, his dramatic point in that same scene, his walk up to the stage for Dueling Club, his whacking students in Goblet and Order, etc.

On one hand, I feel like this does match the tone of the books; he canonically lurks and prowls and points and snatches at the air, and his menace is often undercut by a physical description that’s meant to be some level of comedic. On the other hand, we don't see Snape nearly as much in the movies as we do in the books, so this aspect of his character seems somewhat overinflated by the movies?

TLDR I don’t think these decisions in the movie were completely out of left field, but it also feels off for some reason. Idk I don’t know how exactly to verbalize my feelings on the matter and wanted to hear your thoughts!

It will probably come as no surprise that I feel like any answer to this question is inseparable from the absolute hatchet jobs that are Steve Kloves' screenplays for the HP franchise. This reply is going to end up inevitably long (you ask me about my favorite subject, you suffer the consequences), but all of it is ultimately framed by the problem of having to make the best of a badly written script. (**edit: This post is way too long. Run away. Don't look back.)

The writing doesn't support the story

The first thing that jumps out to me is that there's a separation between where and how these comedic moments are used, up until the end of GoF and after. They're more a part of the story only until Harry's story arc reaches the point of Cedric's death, when he first witnesses death in the way that allows him to see thestrals after. GoF is when the story takes its first dark turn, and up until then the tone and story is much more in line with children's literature, so it makes more sense that Snape is portrayed in a bit of a playful way. After GoF - even though the films reveal it as an aside and much later than the original story does - Snape resumes his role as spy and becomes more integral to the story as a key character and is thus no longer just a foil in a children's story. I think what doesn't work about it is the inconsistency. The books have comedic moments with Snape too, which are cartoonish, up until the end of DH - I feel those are also out of place, but at least their existence gives a basis to what's done in the films.

Nevertheless, one of the biggest problems with the films is that they're badly edited. I'll leave that analysis for another post (you're welcome), but essentially these comedic moments feel inconsistent in part because there's often a disconnect between the performance a director has asked of his actors and the tone that's established in the editing room once pacing and a soundtrack are added. Any vision a director had for these films was muddled by the involvement of big studio producers and limitations. This is made more jarring by the way that Kloves has interjected light, funny moments in awkward ways throughout the scripts. He struggles overall to convey the world that Rowling has created, and if it weren't for the brilliant production design of Stuart Craig, Kloves' failures would be much more obvious (again, worthy of its own roast post).

Take the scene where Snape whacks Harry and Ron on the head in Gof: why are the students all studying in the Great Hall? Why are various years sitting together? Why is Snape overseeing them? It's a scene almost verbatim out of the book (Fred asks Angelina to the ball casually, he and George tell Ron and Harry to get dates "before all the good ones are gone," we find out Hermione already has a date), but like pretty much every scene that originally takes place in the Gryffindor common room, this one is moved to another location for no discernible reason. The main difference in the change is how restrictive it is: in the common room the children are free to be themselves, but in the Great Hall, under a strict teacher's nose, they have to be quiet and restrained. Another subject that would need its own post is the myriad of ways Kloves goes out of his way to rewrite settings and characters to avoid allowing them to express themselves or grow as characters, and how hard he works to stifle and limit them in ways that are convoluted and work against the story, as if he himself couldn't deal with any kind of emotional vulnerability (in a way, his scripts are a desperate cry for help). This directly contributes to why so many of Snape's comedic moments feel off.

The changes in the scene in GoF don't even make sense from a production perspective, as they required more actors, more lighting, and more setups. Instead of using the cozy setting of the common room to establish camaraderie between the students, Kloves replaced that energy and lightheartedness with Snape in a way that's uncharacteristic. The scene, as he wrote it, is already light and has humor, but Kloves doesn't trust it - he feels the need to exaggerate it and the casualties, as always, are the characters and their portrayal. It's as though he's following a formula and saying, "this page number/scene number must provide relief from the tension of the story" and then doesn't consider how following that directive fits into the rhythm of the narrative. It's closer to being an isolated scene akin to a comedy sketch than to a scene that's part of an act that's part of a film. It's worth noting that, in GoF, Kloves interjects this scene as if he's forcing this moment of comic relief into a story that didn't require it and then relies on playing off of Snape's usual seriousness as its crux. In OOtP, when there's a callback to it as Snape smacks Ron with a book again, it's no longer the point of the scene, but an aside in a comical montage focused on Umbridge (OOtP was also the only film not written by Kloves, so this moment is more likely the result of Michael Goldenberg trying to maintain a consistency with Kloves' work). Overall, I think that feeling of something being off is, again, more rooted in the writing than the performance.

Rickman as an actor playing Snape

There's a lot of criticism in the Snapedom of how Alan Rickman portrays Snape, but not enough acknowledgment that none of the characters are portrayed well, and most of it comes down to Kloves' writing of them. Book!McGonagall insists that all students under 17 are evacuated before the Battle of Hogwarts, where Movie!McGonagall only cares that the Slytherin students are locked in the dungeon, everyone else can stay, what does she care if first years die? Book!Hermione is intelligent and empathetic while Movie!Hermione is a two dimensional maternalistic harpy whose main job is to be a mouthpiece for plot exposition. Book!Ron is funny and brave and fiercely loyal, while Movie!Ron throws Hermione under the bus, is cowardly, and is reduced to a flatly written sidekick. Book!Harry is complex and while I could list a million examples, I'll stick to this one: in PoA when he finds out Sirius betrayed his parents, he's enraged but has no reply when asked if he'd want to kill Sirius. Movie!Harry says with conviction, and without prompting, that he wants to find Sirius with the explicit purpose of killing him. Every single character takes a hit because of how Steve Kloves writes them, and Snape is, sadly, no exception.

While some film shoots allow for improvisation, a big budget production on a tight schedule with scenes that require a lot of prep work can't afford to make many changes. So, for example, while Ralph Fiennes was asked to improvise his scene as Voldemort at the end of DH2 when he re-enters Hogwarts victorious (and that's why the dialogue is redundant and that weird hug with Draco continues to plague us), it could be done because the wardrobe and set and cast were already in place and the time required had already been scheduled in. It wouldn't be possible, though, to add an additional scene - like Snape going feral in the hospital wing at the end of PoA - unless it was written into the script. Additional actors would be required, which would mean coordinating with their schedules and adding them to the budget, not to mention scheduling in additional days with the crew who may already have other work lined up. It would require either pushing every other shooting day back - which is near impossible - in order to use the hospital wing set while it's still up, or tacking on production days to the end of the shooting schedule and rebuilding the set on those days. This can be done for necessary pickups that round out existing scenes, but you can't really say, "hey I decided we need a scene here that didn't exist before" without causing huge problems. Because of how contracts work, any significant scene changes would have to be sent back to Kloves who would have to write alternate scenes and/or dialogue, and even then if you wanted to fix a specific character's arc - like Snape's - you would have to add in so much that it just wouldn't be feasible. Screenplay lengths have to fall within a certain number of pages, because each page is approximately a minute of screen time, so adding a few more to a finished script mid-production is very difficult. The actors have to make the best of what's on the page. Which brings us to Alan Rickman, his choices as an actor, and what informed both him and the character of Snape.

Alan Rickman was a RADA trained actor, so his approach to a character involved a lot of physical work as well as character analysis. As far as I know, he was the only actor to contact JK Rowling directly to ask about his character, because he wanted to make an informed decision about how to play him since Snape was so nuanced and gray. Unlike some of the other actors (like Michael "DIDYAPUTYANAMEINDAGOBLETOFFIYAH" Gambon) Rickman read the books - those that were available when he took on the role, and each as they came out afterwards - and used them to inform his understanding of his character beyond what Kloves wrote (presumably in crayon with all the e's backwards). In interviews and Q&A's it's clear Rickman was fond of the HP books and story, and had a thoughtful process taking on Snape's character. He did not see him as a villain, because, as he's said, he didn't approach characters with that kind of judgment. And while I'm sure the egregious amounts of cash Warner Brothers threw at the actors was inevitably a factor for all of them, several of the ones playing teachers or other adults have said that they took on their role because a child in their life insisted on it, despite them being unfamiliar with the books, whereas Rickman's process was to read Rowling's books in order to decide whether to take the role. Again, he was a RADA trained actor, and thus had a meticulous approach to his work that followed a thoughtful, considered process and a decision based on whether he felt he could embody a character in a way that did them justice/if they were interesting enough to him. By the time he started shooting PS, he also had experience directing a film and was working as a director in theatre as well as still acting, so he understood the process from the perspective of not just an actor, but also as someone behind the camera, someone working with actors both as a peer and director, and someone sitting in an editing room.

We know from his diaries that he became increasingly frustrated with how his own process and expectations clashed with that of the producers on Harry Potter. He wasn't interested in renewing his contract after the first few films (goodness knows how much money they offered him in the end - his wife has said that he never let anyone else pick up a tab in a restaurant and if they argued, he would just say "Harry Potter."). He writes about seeing the films at premieres and being frustrated with how little story and development there is (especially for Snape), which makes me think there are deleted scenes somewhere that haven't been released. At one point he writes about a premiere party where he had internally lost patience with the three Davids (Yates, Heyman, and Barron). It's obvious that there's a discord between the work he wanted to do with Snape's character and what choices the production made:

He describes how, during the filming of the Yule Ball scene in GoF, there was an attempt to get him to dance but he refused because he didn't think Snape would dance:

It was a rare moment of potential for improvisation because, again, the set and cast and timing were already accounted for, and in this case there wasn't even dialogue. The scene where he smacks the boys with the notebook - as far as I know - was scripted. So there's a difference there in how much freedom he had, as an actor, to say no to what he was asked to do. Even in the above diary entry it's clear that, given his way, he felt the character wouldn't even be present in that scene, but he had no choice. This tells me that when he had more freedom to make choices, he did so based on his understanding of Snape as a character and, given that he was an actor who was both very respected (and got away with more than most) and also someone who could get argumentative about his character choices, I think this is the most apt lens to examine his physical work with Snape through.

Knowing that he wasn't interested in continuing the role of Snape after the first couple of films and that he was often frustrated with the lack of characterization and story arc, his physicality in his first scene in CoS (when he reprimands Harry and Ron for flying the car) says a lot. (Caveat that one of the reasons he didn't want to renew his contract was that the shooting schedule restricted his schedule and he wanted work on other projects, but I can't help but wonder if that had been the case had HP provided a more satisfying process.) It's almost certain that he had read all the available books by the time the scene in CoS was filmed, including PoA where Snape becomes apoplectic with rage in a way that, to a child reader, is comical (and intended to be) and to someone analyzing Snape is clearly rooted in triggered trauma.

Alan Rickman knew from the outset that Snape's motivation was his love for Lily, so he would have understood the dynamic between his character and Sirius re: who Snape thought sold Lily out to Voldemort. He would also have understood that Snape's reaction in PoA was more about distress and anxiety, and that this was connected to the promise Snape had made to protect Harry for Lily's sake. This would have therefore informed his portrayal of Snape's anger at Harry in CoS, and it's reasonable to assume that Rickman was trying to walk the line between the way Rowling portrayed Snape in full unhinged rage in PoA, what this tells him about this character when angered, and the connection between the moments in PoA and CoS when it comes to Snape's anxiety over Harry's safety. Unlike the author of a book however, who has full control of how they tell a story, Rickman was an actor in a film - an inevitably collaborative medium which therefore made his portrayal reliant on the decisions of others as well.

Chris Columbus, the HP movies, and feral Snape

PS and CoS were directed by Chris Columbus, the guy who directed both Home Alone and Home Alone II and Mrs. Doubtfire. He was a successful director from the 90s tradition of children's movies whose sensibility was informed by the era's attitude towards children's media: kids wanting to see themselves in narratives, in ways that felt empowering and allowed them to process the confusion of a world run by adults in playful, quasi-cartoonish ways within a 3 act structure where the villains - mean adults - get their comeuppance because it feels fair. One thing that set Harry Potter apart was that the villain was not the mean adult; Snape, the mean adult, is a character kids can hate and project their own experiences onto, but Voldemort is a true villain who represents evil and is vanquished by the hero. Chris Columbus established a tone for the first two films that was no longer apt by PoA, not only because it didn't work for the story, but because that 90s era of children's movies had ended and the culture moved on to more complex narratives (and Columbus has focused more on producing than directing since, because his style doesn't work for audiences anymore).

What's ironic about the way Snape's scene at the start of CoS comes off is that, in the book, there's a great comedic moment that's left out:

This is cut from the film, and instead it's Filch waiting at the top of the marble stairs who catches Ron and Harry being late and delivers them to Snape (I don't know why, the scene in the book is much more dynamic and would have taken up about as much time on screen). Rickman, meanwhile, is using the information he's gotten on who Snape is from the books, and imbuing some of that feral Snape energy into his portrayal of a Snape who is genuinely angry:

(Thank you for making these gifs @smilingformoney , they are truly the gift that keeps on giving.)

The thing is, no matter how much of feral Snape Rickman brought to this, no matter how menacing his performance is, this moment still lives within the dynamics of a Chris Columbus children's film. It gets cut off by Dumbledore's entrance - meant to be a comeuppance for Snape, since Dumbledore (being the voice of wisdom and fairness in this world) prevents him from punishing Harry and Ron (you know what, at least in the books they got detention, but ok). Despite Rickman's performance, Columbus as a director has framed this scene in the same context as the one Kloves cut. The tension is brief, and the focus is on Snape being foiled, because it's what children want to see - a mean adult experiencing consequences. It's down to the editing and soundtrack, choices Columbus made in the editing room. In addition, we don't know how many different ways an actor tries a scene, only what ends up in the final cut of a film. The process of the work done on a set is often much richer and more diverse than what an audience sees in the finished film.

Tbh I think this is also why Snape's feral moments were cut from PoA: it's a darker film, but had to straddle the line between being for both children and tweens and not getting too playful, nor too intense. As much as I want to see feral Snape on screen, it's extremely difficult to make work in a narrative that is about Harry and his friends. It either skews too intense, making the audience uncomfortable because seeing an adult becoming unhinged and in pain is difficult and frightening for most young people, even adults, and would therefore take away from Harry's goals and narrative as well as his changing relationship to Sirius (all of which is already barely supported by Kloves' writing). Alternately, it could also skew too comical and over the top, which takes the audience out of the tension of the film's climactic moments.

If Snape's story had gotten more focus and screen time, an unhinged moment would be better justified because the audience would have been more invested in the character and their arc. PoA sidesteps pretty much all of the most compelling parts of the book, which is the realization that Harry is not only connected to Sirius personally, but that his dad, Sirius, Lupin, and Pettigrew created the Marauders Map, that they were animagi, that Harry's patronus takes the form of his father's stag, and that Snape was initimately connected to all of them as well. For me, reading the end of PoA was what cemented Snape as someone who would be crucial to the narrative and whose role would increase as the series went on. As a result of Kloves skimming over these essential plot twists, Snape is a minor character in the film, showing up mostly as a foil who tries to expose Lupin and then catches him and Black in the Shrieking Shack (this also sets his character up to be minimized in every film down the line, which has a worsening impact as Snape becomes increasingly integral to the plot).

One thing I find interesting is that Snape's comical physicality changes over the films. In PS and CoS he's menacing, a looming, larger than life figure the children fear and easily assume to be a full-fledged villain. By GoF there's a relationship embedded in how he interacts with Harry and his friends. He's no longer terrifying, just intimidating, more of an adult Harry challenges than someone he must defeat. The comedic effect now comes from a rapport within an established dynamic between characters. By HBP, the only comical moment is at Slughorn's party, and it's no longer Rickman who uses physicality - the action happens around him, and the comedic effect is in his lack of reaction to any of it. In other words, he's no longer the comic one, he's become the straight man in a (badly written) comedy sketch (with abysmal timing, what even).

Ultimately, as with most of the characters in the HP films, Snape is undermined by the writing. Rickman was stuck working within the confines he was given. No matter how well he may have understood the character, the limited screen time and character development were always going to stifle how Snape was portrayed on screen. I'm very much pro Let Snape Be Feral but I also don't fault Rickman in how little we saw of that.

How Feral is Snape?

If I'm honest, I feel like the Snapedom has taken the Let Snape Be Feral thing and has started forgetting that he wasn't all-feral-all-the-time. The point of Feral Snape is that it's a heightened state of tension in a character whose trauma is being triggered. Apoplectic Snape wouldn't have an impact at the end of PoA if that was his usual way of being. And, as you so brilliantly showed @said-snape-softly Snape's speech patterns are primarily quiet and controlled, his speech gets softer the more dangerous his mood, and it's only after he reassumes his role as a spy that the description of his speech becomes increasingly volatile (but is still controlled). Feral Snape's definitive aspect is the lack of control shown by a character who usually is so exceptionally capable of self restraint and compartmentalization. So again, while I would have loved to see Feral Snape on screen, I think it's also important to acknowledge that this is not the defining feature of his character and is more about what those moments mean to his arc. Their absence is primarily due to poor writing that didn't create space for them (including what leads up to them), and the direction that didn't carve out any kind of niche for them, not Rickman's choices as an actor.

In fact, Snape as a character is defined by descriptors of his voice more than any other character by far. I have my own theory about why this is, and it has to do with Alan Rickman being inextricably connected with how Snape is written. Chris Columbus said that Alan Rickman was always Snape as far as he was concerned, because when JK Rowling showed him a sketch of Snape she had made, it looked exactly like Rickman. I don't think this is accidental.

Alan Rickman was always intended to be Snape

First, what's important to remember is that before Harry Potter, Alan Rickman was best known in the 90s for playing both villains and sad romantic leads. His signature defining feature was his voice. I think it was Ang Lee who described the casting choice of Greg Wise and Alan Rickman in Sense and Sensibility as wanting Willoughby (Wise) to be dashing and Brandon (Rickman) to be sexy (if this was Emma Thompson and not Ang Lee, my apologies, I can't remember where I read this and can't find the source). This is how Rickman was perceived by audiences up until Harry Potter. And I know a lot of the Snapedom considers him to be sexy as Snape too, but the general audiences of the films don't, so please don't @ me, I'm just setting up a point here.

This is relevant because, as we find out in the end of the books, Rowling wrote Snape's motivations to be rooted in romantic love (I'm very nobly putting aside, for the sake of focusing on Rowling's intentions, my personal interpretation that Snape's feelings for Lily were platonic, please acknowledge how brave I am for this). She pulls a lot from gothic tropes into how he's written, and as much as she's talked about the character having been inspired by a chemistry teacher she disliked, and as much as she's talked about Snape being both morally grey and someone she personally dislikes, she also romanticized him. Between this and what Chris Columbus said about her sketch of him, it's hard for me to ignore that this character, conceived of in the 90s, wasn't written with Alan Rickman in mind from the beginning, especially since Rowling herself has said that she envisioned him in the role. Whether or not he lived up to Rowling's imagination is, frankly, his choice and Rowling's problem.

The story of how Harry Potter was written according to JK Rowling is that it started with the idea coming to her on a train ride in 1990. She completed the PS manuscript in 1995. While everything I'm about to say is absolute conjecture, I can't help but wonder at the connection between these films and the way Snape was written (spoilers ahead, no regrets, these films have been out for over a quarter of a century - forgive my reviews, I can't help myself):

1988: Die Hard comes out. Alan Rickman plays Hans Gruber, a villain who is a genius, composed, controlled, and soft-spoken. (Great film, a classic, the only valid Christmas movie.)

1990: Truly, Madly, Deeply. Rickman plays a man whose wife can't get over his tragic death, nor can his own ghost, who comes back to spend more time with her. No one else can see him, and they can't really share a life anymore. She eventually lets him go as she realizes that his spirit doesn't belong in the mortal world and her own life can't move on as long as she clings to it. (Beautiful film, will break your heart and put it through a shredder.)

1991: Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves. Rickman is the Sheriff of Nottingham, an unhinged, feral villain who wears all black complete with billowing cape. (Terrible film, disaster of a period piece, Rickman's performance is the only redeeming thing about it. Halfway through its press tour talk shows started booking Rickman instead of the lead, Kevin Costner, because Rickman stole every scene.)

1995: An Awfully Big Adventure. Rickman is an actor who comes back to his hometown to revive his role as Captain Hook in a local theatre production of Peter Pan. In the process he has an affair with a young ginger stagehand who reminds him of his lost love, a vivacious woman named Stella with bright red hair who, as far as he knows, birthed his child - a son - before she died. It turns out the girl he has an affair with is his daughter, which he realizes when he visits her home where she lives in the care of her aunt and uncle - whose name is Vernon - and connects the dots of who this girl's mother was. (He then rides his motorcycle out to the pier, screams "Stella" at the heavens like he's in a revival production of Streetcar Named Desire, trips and hits his head on the edge of the pier and falls into the water, drowning. I can't make this up. Mike Newell directed this. The same guy who directed GoF. As if following in the vein of the 90s movie obsession with incest as the controversial-trope-du-jour wasn't enough. I don't even need to review this, just sum it up.)

1995: Sense and Sensibility. Rickman plays Colonel Brandon, a forlorn, grieving man who lost his first love at a young age and spends most of the film pining for the only other woman he's ever had a romantic interest in. Wears all black, rides a black horse.

Given what a well-known actor Rickman was in the 90s - especially in England - and how connected his characters all seem to be to various aspects of Snape, it's hard not to see a connection. The entire premise of Truly, Madly, Deeply sounds like the inspiration for the Resurrection Stone in Deathly Hallows. The redheaded lost love whose child is left in the care of an Uncle Vernon in An Awfully Big Adventure is difficult to look past. All of these characters either exude menacingly soft-spoken Snape energy, feral Snape energy, or forlorn because of his lost love Snape energy. As a result, I feel like it's almost inevitable that Rickman inspired Snape, especially when you consider how known he was for his voice and how frequently Snape's voice is used to describe him. When Rowling said that she envisioned him in the role, it makes me wonder if she meant during the casting process for the first film, or well before it. I think his previous roles were a contributing factor in how the character was written in the books. After Tim Roth - who was originally cast in the role - had to back out due to scheduling conflicts, she got her way. Authors don't often get to choose who plays their characters, but in this case it worked out as the production thought Rickman was a good fit as well.

I'm done, I promise

So where does this leave things at the end of this horrendously long post? Rickman's choices of how he physicalized Snape - comedic or not - are only part of a larger whole. He was playing a character who was written based on his other roles, and limited by the shortcomings of how Steve Kloves translated that character from Rowling's books into his own screenplays. Whatever Rickman did on set was limited by that writing, by the directors he worked with, and by the choices made in the editing room.

I'm fascinated by the idea that Rickman was playing a character written with him in mind - but not really him, the him who embodied other characters whose echoes show up in Snape. It's difficult enough to contend with an actor playing a character in a screenplay you wrote with them in mind when you're directing your own script, because they'll never be what you imagined in your head. But for that process to get filtered through several directors, a team of producers, another writer who changes your work, and an editor, let alone throughout a decade of films - that's downright wild. The original intention gets lost and reinterpreted like a game of telephone, and I think that a lot of the consistencies between Movie!Snape and Book!Snape are down to Alan Rickman's nuanced and generous nature as an actor. If I'm honest, I'm not convinced that every Snape moment that comes off comical was meant to be so by Rickman. But again, film is such a collaborative medium that his intentions aren't the only ones that matter, ultimately, at least they aren't the only thing that ends up in the final cut.

My take, personally, is that I'm more interested in critical analysis than personal criticism. I respect that everyone has their own vision of a character and fandom is absolutely here for, among other things, having a place to share those thoughts and feelings. But a character is rarely going to appear on screen the same way you see them in your head, and that's not always going to be a fault, even if it's a disappointment to you. It's interesting to hear different people's perceptions, but there isn't that much to discuss there - you can't refute how someone feels, and you can't argue that their truth is what it is, to them. Whereas with critical analysis there's a lot more to talk about and examine, so it's where my own interest is much more invested.

[lily-alphonse]

I was talking about this earlier with an anon, and now that I've found you, I am intensely curious: How would you make Gus/Willy work?

OLD MEN!!! OLD MAN YAOI MY BELOVED!!!

Gus and Willy are cute. I like this, I can work with this.

They quietly find comfort in each other. The kind of couple that no one really knows is a couple, big “they were roommates” energy, except for the fact that Gus has always been a little loud and fruity (look at his clothing! The mustache?!). But to anyone outside of the loop it could just look like Willy is a very dear friend.

But how does it start?

I feel like I have to plot their romantic pasts to get my head around it.

Gus grew up in the city. Part of the down-low queer scene, he had a few boyfriends. A couple of them felt like they could have been true love until reality hit, and there was nothing true about it.

He found love in his passions instead, in cooking and found family in a place where life moved slower.

I like to think Willy was married once (idk if we ever get any lore to confirm or deny this, im just a silly little fic writer I’ll slap an AU tag on this baby and call it a day if I have to). It was a good, practical marriage but they were never able to have kids, and his wife passed from cancer a long time ago. He left his life behind when she died. The house had always felt more like her’s anyway. He took his boat and sailed away to start a new life in a small town.

He arrived there long before Gus did, but Gus made himself a fixture in the town so much more quickly. What had taken Willy years took Gus mere days. Everyone in town knew his name and smiled when they saw him. Everyone loved his food. A man might’ve been envious at that, but not Willy. He just found it interesting.

So when Gus made his way to the bait shop it was no surprise. What was a surprise was the fact he had brought Willy food.

“Cookies? Shouldn’t I be giftin’ you somethin’, seeing as youre the new neighbor?”

Gus laughed. He had a bright laugh from deep in his chest that made the air around him sparkle. “Sorry! It’s the ultimate way into people’s hearts, I can’t help it.”

Willy hummed in contemplation, looking down at the plate of cookies. “I’ll take these on one condition.”

Gus shifted uncomfortably, uncertain if he was being serious. “That is?”

“You come in and try some of Willy’s famous trout soup!”

Gus laughed again, feeling relieved, and nodded. “Sure. Nice to meet you, Willy.”

“Pleasure to meet you as well, come on in.”

Conversation flows easily between them. Willy is chattier than people think, but especially to Gus. He likes how Gus reacts to his stories, his eyes widening at the good parts. And Yoba, his laugh.

But eventually they see the darker sides of each other, too. Sometimes, Willy gets sullen thinking of the past. Sometimes, Gus gets moody and short-tempered, and needs to be left alone for days. They always come back together, though.

They’ll sit in front of Gus’ fireplace warming themselves. Willy likes that it feels more like a proper home here than his shack. He likes how Gus wears soft cardigans and keeps his house smelling like cinnamon.

They don’t know if this is true love. It might be. Maybe it’s just the closest they will get in this life. But at least it’s warm.

Ow my heart

Send me any Stardew Valley rarepair and I will tell you how I would make them work! (Even non-marriage npcs) If youre lucky you may get a mini fic out of it. Check the list below to see if Ive already answered yours

Rarepair Masterlist

[oldfashionedmorphine]

hi friends!! i’m super excited to share Will’s perspective from the scene in the basement all the way back in chapter 4 of i’m a wreck (without you here)!!!

i highly recommend reading chapter 17 first!!! 😉

(it’s 2.7k words! oh and psa for anyone who has read my story so far—especially if you haven’t read this chapter in a while: i have gone back and fixed some things i didn’t like cause as much as i loved this chapter, i published it before i was 100% satisfied with it…but it works better now! also idk why but i kinda like Will’s pov more 👀)

🎵🎶 and look!! i even picked out songs!!! :D

tagging my fans: @across-thestars @boahey @magentamee @daydreams-in-the-moonlight @greenfiend @rebellius @booksandpaperss @castelobyers @total-serene560 @wheelersboy @sparks-olivarpente @hazmatazz @suzieburself @unrepentant-byler-shipper @quarter-pasteleven

Enjoy!

Cause It’s the Only Thing I Wanna Do

June 22, 2004 11:47 pm

“—I really wanna know how you’ve actually been, you know, from you.”

“Well, uh...” Mike starts to say, but then he pauses, eyebrows lifting, eyes wide—it looked as though he were trying to figure out where to start first. And then Will watches Mike pour himself another shot, slamming it down fast, and sucking his teeth before he continues, “Well...I live in an apartment, it’s not terrible. Rent is a little expensive where I’m at, so I have a roommate—he’s a law student and I rarely ever see him—but anyway, I had a lot of financial mishaps over the years, so I never quite got out of the cycle of renting to own anything...or heck, even live alone. But it doesn’t really bother me though—I have a cat, her name’s Josephine—that was her name at the shelter and I thought it was cute so I kept it—and uh...definitely no girlfriend…”

Definitely no girlfriend?

The way he had said it raised a tiny little flag in Will’s mind. And then there was a pause between Mike’s words—Will almost found the nerve to ask him to elaborate, but then Mike shakes his head slightly and he’s back to speaking, “And the weather is pretty dreary. Both Nancy and Holly were convinced I have depression. They’re probably right. They said the weather only makes it worse. It does get lonely sometimes too—my relationships—well, nothing ever sticks. Honestly, it's mostly sucked, but I can’t bring myself to leave.”

Will pulls his knees to his chest, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting to hear, but hearing Mike talk about feeling lonely and how his sisters were convinced he had depression didn’t sit well with him. Once upon a time, back during the darker days of being so incredibly furious because Mike had left him behind, there were times when Will had hoped he was miserable, but eventually he grew out of that mindset after his heart hurt less, and over the past couple years, whenever he thought of Mike, he liked to imagine he was happy somehow, even if it was without him. And all the things he knew from afar—the things Nancy had told him—were all positive because she had never once mentioned anything about depression, she only informed him of the highlights. Simple stuff like Mike getting a new job or how he had sent gifts for the kids, and he knew about the cat, just not her name, but of course each time Nancy would also add a little something to the effect of ‘You know, I think he misses you, you should try talking to him—I have his number if you want it’, but of course, he couldn’t do it. He wanted to call, but too much time had passed…and it wasn’t like Mike ever tried to reach out either—Nancy had his number too, so she probably offered it to Mike at some point as well. Ultimately, it felt like the damage was too severe to ever recover from. And it was also very hard to believe that Nancy was really telling the truth—that Mike actually missed him—and not just meddling to make family gatherings less awkward. Maybe she had hoped that if the two of them were friends again, then her brother would be more inclined to visit. Perhaps a selfish motive, but if that was the truth, then he could understand why she would try and make the effort. In the end, Will thought it was best to leave it alone, because there would be less chance of getting hurt again that way…

And when Will realizes Mike had left him a short window to speak, he takes it—he wants Mike to know he's listening. “Why not? If it sucks, why not move somewhere else? What’s stopping you? It’s not like you haven’t done a big move before. Just go somewhere more affordable,” but Mike’s face was still sour, so Will makes a small attempt to provoke a smile with a teasing tone, “and with better weather.”

“I dunno. It’s stupid when I think about it now, but I pissed everyone off back when I first moved—and then you wouldn’t talk to me anymore—I guess I just felt like it all had to mean something.”

Will quirks an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Mike keeps his eyes cast down at his hands, fidgeting with an empty shot glass. “I mean, that me living there, in Seattle, couldn’t be all for nothing. And I only realize now that I was being so fucking stubborn about it. It’s just that...half the time—half the time I was embarrassed that I didn’t live up to my parents expectations. I could have been more—or something. Something more. I had really hoped being somewhere else would have helped, like when people talk about a ‘fresh start’, but I just feel like—I dunno, like I’m going through the motions.” He scoffs. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but...if twelve year old me could see me now I’m sure he’d be pretty disappointed. I let myself get knocked down because of a couple dumbass choices—any normal person would have dusted themselves off and tried again. But not me.”

“Oh…” Will murmurs. He wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Not me...or I dunno, maybe I was just punishing myself.”

Again he watches Mike pour himself another shot of vodka, filling it to the very brim this time, almost to the point it spills over, and as he brings the shot to his mouth, some of the liquor drips onto his shirt and the floor. It was clear Mike’s coordination was wavering with each additional shot. And then Mike offers to pour Will another, but he shakes his head, refusing—Will knew his limits. Three shots of vodka was more than enough, possibly too much, because he was definitely feeling it. If he drank any more he’d regret it in the morning. Not to mention he wasn’t a big fan of getting drunk to begin with. He always feared he’d end up like his deadbeat dad if he wasn’t careful about pacing himself when it came to alcohol.

Mike sets the bottle back on the coffee table. “You probably know this, but I was also holding a major…major grudge against my dad for the longest fucking time because of his—well, cause of all those things he said.” He chuckles, which Will found to be a bit unsettling considering what Mike was saying. “At one point my mom even said that he was ‘sorry for everything’ and that he wanted to try to ‘make amends’…part of me thought she was just saying it to force me to apologize first, but I still couldn’t face him even if it was the damn truth. Like, I just couldn’t trust that he really felt differently after everything—well ‘cause, all those horrible things he said—the things he implied…even about you, they might as well have been…about me. Y’know? I mean, they were…they are, he just didn’t know it. And I really didn’t think he’d still be sorry if he knew about that.”

Wait—what? Did he just—

Will was stunned, though he wasn’t sure he heard him right. Because it wasn’t like he had said the words outright, yet it sounded a hell of a lot like he was implying that—

And now Mike was looking over at him, full of panic, with the kind of expression you’d expect from someone who just revealed a truth they never meant to share. His eyes remain locked on Mike, but the longer he stares at him the more confused it makes him, so Will drops his gaze to the floor and tightens his arms around his legs. No matter how Mike’s face seemed, it wasn’t confirmation of what he thought he heard—hopes he heard.

Out of the corner of his eye, Will sees Mike reaching for the vodka again, this time drinking straight from the bottle. Part of him wanted to snatch the bottle away from Mike—I think you’ve had enough, mister, you’ll regret another drop—except he can’t seem to move a damn muscle for some reason.

And after a moment Mike sighs, setting the bottle down. “Of course, I don’t exactly know how he would’ve handled the news—I mean, obviously I never told him—or anyone from back then—”

But what else would have upset his father so much? What could it possibly have been that he never told him…or anyone else? Drugs? No, because he said it had something to do with me too, so that can’t be it, not to mention the way he emphasized—

Mike hiccups. “As I say this now, you’re the first I’ve—”

Okay, but I’m the first what? I need you to say it!

“—and of course I never let it go with him...but then...it was too late. The option to even think about—well, about finally forgiving him...and telling him the truth about me—”

The truth about—okay, yeah, that has to be it—Ted must’ve said a bunch of homophobic shit to Mike and I was roped into the mix somehow, because Mike said his dad ‘implied horrible things’ that involved me, yet all of it also applied to Mike? So then he must’ve meant that he’s gay…or maybe he’s bisexual? What else would make Ted Wheeler lose his shit? What else would he want to conceal for so long? And that still had to do with me somehow—cause it sure as shit wouldn’t have been over video games…plus…no one—not Nancy, Holly, Karen, El, or any one else—has ever once mentioned anything to me about Mike having a girlfriend since…high school…

“—cut all the bullshit, but...it didn’t. And I didn’t even go—didn’t even go to his funeral. I didn’t deserve to. It’s stupid—or I’m stupid. And now with Nancy—I didn’t—fuck—I didn’t even...consider...that I had so little time left with her. And...my options were taken away...again. I could have—I could have...seen her more. I know we weren’t always...the closest, but she—she definitely made more effort than me—if I had just...been less of a dipshit and forced myself to visit...but now—well, I can’t do that anymore. She’s gone, Will. She’s really...” Mike pauses, then he whispers, “gone.”

And then Will looks back over at Mike—he was using his sleeves to dry his eyes, but his tears were relentless, continuing to spill over, and with snot also dripping from his nose. The mere sight of Mike in this state elicits tears of his own, as well as an overwhelming urge to comfort him, to offer him a shoulder, but when Will starts to inch closer to him, he hesitates. There was a time they used to hug, but what if Mike didn’t want to be touched?

Fuck it—he can push me away if he needs to.

Will must have caught him by surprise with his sudden impulse, because now Mike’s looking at him with glossy bloodshot eyes as a shuddered gasp escapes his pale lips. And then Mike starts to tremble as though he were on the cusp of shattering into a million pieces. But for a single selfish second, as Mike was falling apart right before his eyes, Will can’t help but marvel at the sheer impossibility of the situation. At how close he was to Mike. Their knees were now pressed together and the scent of his shampoo was so prominent—citrus and mint—mixed with a hint of alcohol coming from his breath. But the moment passes and then the instinct to wrap an arm around him kicks in, to draw him even closer. Mike’s head immediately falls onto Will’s shoulder and his sobs grow louder.

And between sobs and sniffles Mike starts stuttering, “I’m n-never gonna see her again—ever. Never hear her voice—see her s-smile. Never—and I missed out—the pictures—her! Never, n-never—I’m so stupid—stupid—” Without any warning, Mike moves to throw his arms around Will, seeming desperate as he grabs onto his shirt, pulling at the fabric so intensely that threads begin to snap, threatening to rip the seams apart entirely—hey, I like this shirt—except Will couldn't find it in him to make Mike stop. All he can do is try and hold him and hope that it helps. And when Mike starts to beg softly into his ear, the words tug even more at his heartstrings, “Please, please—don’t go. Please, you can’t go. Please, please s-stay—ple-please don’t go. I don’t want—I don’t want—don’t leave me again. Please, please don’t—don’t—don’t—” then Mike tucks his face into the crook of Will’s neck, his pleading words becoming too muffled to comprehend.

Will tries to ignore the small part inside of him that feels betrayed for allowing himself to get this close to Mike and risk his heart all over again. And he briefly thinks back to when he held that number in his hand, debating with himself for hours before he pushed a single button—before he ever left that voicemail—because he knew exactly what would happen. It was a slippery slope and the stakes were high. But of course, a larger part of him wanted Mike back more than anything, so he had set aside his fear and from the very second he dialed his number, he was all in—heart unsheathed and vulnerable. And now here he was, sitting on the floor of an old familiar basement, more than a little tipsy, with Michael Wheeler drunk and trembling in his arms, begging for him to never leave him again.

But tomorrow Mike would wake up and not remember any of this. And if Will were to ask him about it, he’d reply that he didn’t mean anything he said. That it was all a mistake. That it was only extreme grief and copious amounts of vodka that made him utter such words, but Will tries to ignore every invading thought. Thoughts driven only by fear—a defense mechanism designed to shield his heart by preparing him for some hypothetical worst case scenario like last time. Because something inside him was fully aware that he had slipped over that edge and he was falling once again for the idea of spending the rest of their lives together. And that maybe he wouldn’t survive this time if it all went wrong.

But it won’t. Not this time. This time it’ll be different—no more hiding.

“Hey, hey...it’s gonna be okay. I’m here...” Will whispers to him as he brings a hand up to stroke the back of Mike’s head, his hair the slightest bit damp to the touch, and then slowly his shaking begins to subside. “I know it hurts. But it’s gonna be okay... maybe not right now, but someday.”

Mike’s sobs taper off until the only sound filling the space in the room was REO Speedwagon’s Keep On Loving You;

“…When I said that I love you, I meant that I love you forever…”

Will rocks him gently side to side, humming the song as if it were a lullaby. Eventually Mike grows heavier in his arms and Will realizes it would be better for Mike to sleep in a bed, so he tries to rouse him. “Mike?”

No answer, so he tries again, giving him a little shake. “Mike…Mike?”

“Hmm.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed—”

He groans at the suggestion.

“You can’t sleep like this, come on…”

Mike mumbles—it sounds like he was asking him to stay.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

He finally manages to help him up, but they only get as far as the sofa bed right behind them. At first they both stay sitting at the very edge, with Mike still trying to hold onto Will, but in the end, Will gently eases him towards the pillow and he goes out like a light.

Will tilts his head as he leans over him, then reaches a hand out—at first it was to simply push back the hair from Mike’s eyes, but right after, he caresses his cheek with the back of his hand. Even with puffy eyes and tear-soaked skin with splotches of red, he was beautiful. Maybe more so now than ever before.

And Will felt guilty for wanting to capture Mike in such a dark moment. But that feeling didn’t stop him from picking up his sketchbook off the floor and opening it to an empty page…

[ao3-oner]

Update/Announcement on the We Keep Falling Apart Series + My Intended Worlds Sequel to Mad Scientist Incorrigible

Hi everyone! Thanks for stopping by.

As you may have heard, I have decided that I will no longer be writing a sequel for Mad Scientist Incorrigible during Worlds this year despite planning to do so for the past few months. I want to assure you that this decision did not come without series deliberation and perhaps an undue amount of anguish. With that said, if you're interested, I'll explain at least a handful of the reasons that I have decided not to write this fic:

I don't want the fic to feel contrived

For context, when I first started drafting this Worlds fic way back in May, I felt confident that JDG would make Worlds and I would be able to continue the series in the way that I wanted to. It wasn't until the LPL summer split started that I realized I shouldn't have taken as much for granted, and I started drafting my back-up fic just in case. No matter how you try to spin it, a sequel to MSI set in a universe where JDG doesn't make Worlds is a work-around, an exercize in "things didn't turn out how I wanted, but let's try to patch things up anyway". I feel like, with the narrative I set up, in this universe, I cannot properly address and resolve the conflicts that I set into motion in MSI while still paying proper respect to all the characters. This was the thing I was most worried about when drafting my back-up Worlds fic: that narrative elements would come across as forced or contrived and the characters would not seem genuine.

2. I am still mourning the loss of what the fic could have been

As implied, it was always the case that the fic I really *wanted* to write was the version in which JDG makes Worlds. If I were to write an alternate version of that fic, it would lack some of the moments that I've been brainrotting about for months, the scenes that I've been wanting to bring to you. It would just feel bad to be constantly reminded of what we're all missing out on, of what could have been. That was just one reason why it was absolutely soul-crushing for me to watch JDG get one game away from making it only to face defeat: that match was absolutely brutal, too, consisting of Ruler being head-and-shoulders above everyone else on both teams, but still losing only because his teammates (not Kanavi - we love you Kanavi and seeing him take on supporting champs rather than carries to help Ruler was inspirational) were playing insultingly poorly and he could only carry them so far. I wish I was exaggerating. I'm not. Ruler deserved to make Worlds - he deserved this fic. However, with things playing out how they did, I'm afraid I can't give it to him.

(Side note: one consideration I had was "If you like the fic idea where Ruler makes Worlds so much, then just write it anyway." I've considered this, but ultimately decided against it because it feels dishonest to what I've set up the WKFA series to be - fics that are grounded in what actually happened, also because of the next reason:)

3. Irl Ruler and Lehends have actually gotten their shit together???

This is the one reason on this list that is actually somewhat positive lmao - but yeah, if you haven't been following, ever since MSI, Ruler and Lehends have actually been pretty vocal about talking to each other. They both really wanted to meet at Worlds, Lehends said that he'd be interested in potentially playing with Ruler again in the future, and overall, they've just been very sweet. With all that going on, launching into an angsty narrative that starts out primarily vihends seems kind of silly to me. I'd feel overdramatic for writing something like that, and Idk, I've probably always been overdramatic, but I feel like it's much more apparent now. So, good for them! I hope they play together again soon <3

4. The fic would take a LOT of my time when I have other fics that I'm more excited to work on

It should come as a surprise to no one that writing longer multi-chapter fics is a significant time investment, and unfortunately, as I am a working person who also has other commitments and hobbies, I do not have an infinite amount of time to spend on writing LoLRPF. With that said, if I were to commit to writing a Worlds fic, that would consume nearly all of my LoLRPF time for the next two months. In that same amount of time, I could write a number of other fun fics, including more RuLehends - angsty, smutty, and/or otherwise - that I would actually enjoy writing. I was happy to delay all my other fics for the change to construct my grand narrative with JDG at Worlds, but now that we're stuck dealing with the knockoff, I feel like my time would be better and more pleasantly spent working on other projects.

5. I don't want to write the fic!

For all the reasons listed above and any number of less articulate ones, I have come to the conclusion as the writer that I do not feel like continuing this series. That, in and of itself, is justification enough not to, with no other explanation necessary.

I hope that clears up some of the questions/comments/thoughts you may have, but if you want to hear more, then please don't hesitate to DM me or shoot message to my inbox. I am also happy to share some of my thoughts about what the Worlds fic could have been, and I might even be convinced to share some snippets of scenes that I pre-wrote during my brainrot over the past few months.

With that established, I am officially marking 8 Seconds to Base as the last entry in the "We Keep Falling Apart" series and marking the series as completed.

I understand how disappointing it is to get excited for a fic or series only for it to get discontinued, so I apologize. Life happens. Unfortunately, my hype for this year's Worlds is almost entirely dead now. I'll take care of myself, though, and hope that you all do the same.

Thanks for reading, and have a great day <4

[sob-dylan]

I’m the passenger ending anon and I was more curious abt the last 3 minutes or so that’s all in a rosy “things are fine :)” kind of glow, it just seemed so disconnected from the rest of the movie. I LOVED bensons end scene I was eating it up Then hard cut to Things Are Ok :) Idk ! that’s why I asked bc ur no 1 passenger scholar on my dash

lol my bad, i probably should have realized that by "the ending" you meant the part that comes at the end 😅

i'll give a middling answer: it's alright. i mean, let's be honest, the passenger's strength isn't it's screenplay. there's a lot of good story in what mr. jack stanley wrote, but some of the pacing's a little bit awkward and a few things here and there don't make a ton of sense. that all kinda comes to a head in the last scene. but i don't want to throw too many stones, because i'm definitely no great writer, and i've alway found endings especially difficult. and ultimately, i do think the ending works.

even though it's a rough transition from the penultimate scene to the final scene, i appreciate that they took some time to show the positive aftereffects of randy's no good very bad day. there's a definitely a lot of information packed into that very short scene, and some of it feels cool, some of it feels weird. i'm glad that randy's standing up to his mom and going to hang out with friends. but who are these friends? did he have friends before that he just didn't mention? or did he make new ones between his kidnapping and now? his arm's still in a sling, so it feels like not that much time has passed . . . i like that he's kept in touch with ms. beard, but i hope he's doing a little more job-wise than just babysitting for her. his scene with hardy in the beginning showed us that he's in dire need of imagining a substantial future for himself. maybe he could teach! or become a librarian! i do like that they brought in ms. beard's daughter tessa, because for me the movie is all about children. it's about hurt children! and it's about how we need to do a better job of loving and helping and protecting our children! i know some people think it's pretty morbid and fucked up that randy teaches tessa the game that took her mom's eye out, but i actually think it's great that randy can accept that, yeah, it was just an accident, and he can trust himself to play this game for children without history repeating itself. and if it does, if tessa takes his eye out, then he can help her be strong and forgiving of herself like he's learned to be.

i'll admit that's it's all a little bit too tidy and saccharine. so i'm grateful that there are hints that randy's isn't totally fixed. if anything, he's got new, sexier, and possibly even worse problems. this is evidenced in three ways: he's got benson's jacket, someone was doodling a picture of two guys in a car (i've seen some people posit that randy drew the picture, but i hear that and think *jenna maroney voice* "did you draw that, randy? you might need help, because that is awful for an adult." i also think it's hilarious and sad and wonderful if randy found a way to tell tessa about him and benson and she illustrated it), and then finally we get the last shot as icing on the "oh boy this guy's gonna be fucked up forever" cake.

yes the ending is a bit clunky and perhaps even tonally out of step, but the last shot kinda made the whole movie for me. when i first saw the camera pan over to the stuffed animals and "supersoaker md50" kicked in, i SCREAMED! that was so killer! it was heart-wrenching! it was funny! and it was a good time! just like the whole movie! so yeah, the entire end scene maybe isn't all that great, but that last shot was. idk how i would have made the ending any better, so one great final shot is good enough for me.

[idkjustletmescroll]

Some incoherent ranting/rambling i guess

I really don't understand some people's obsession with fictional characters doing shitty things just conveniently...NOT KNOWING that they're bad?? Idk if that makes ANY sense at all it's 3 in the goddamn morning but let me explain--

I was doom scrolling, as one does, when I came across a tiktok of a marvel fan explaining why actually wanda maximoff had no idea what she was doing with the hex, which, sure, holds true for the BEGINNING of wandavision. But we're shown pretty clearly during the rest of the show that she knows what she's done, how it's affecting the townspeople, and that it's not real...she just needs it to be real. She can't cope with her ACTUAL reality. Her family is gone, and the ones that remain are busy dealing with their own traumas and families (i.e. clint, who I still argue WOULD have tried to find her and help her post-endgame, even if he desperately needed some downtime with his family--but moving on). I'm a wanda maximoff stan, she's my girl, my favourite, my one and only, but she's not a complete idiot. She knew what she was doing. I don't care that she did an objectively bad thing, I care about why she did it and kept on doing it--which is so much more interesting to me, anyways.

Alicent Hightower in HOTD? According to the writers, had no clue that, actually, years of talking about how aegon should be the heir to the throne would result in people ACTUALLY SCHEMING to get him on the throne, even though she seems to be heading the effort the entire time? Listen, the HOTD fandom is something else, and the way they talk about alicent genuinely scares me, but alicent being worried for her kids' safety, reluctantly cutting off all affection for Rhaenyra because she's genuinely terrified for her kids' lives, even just the spite of wanting her years of suffering and humiliation to mean something; alicent being both a ringleader and a pawn in a man's game, because ultimately she's resigned to the fact that the closest she can get to winning in this system (under this wheel, if you will), is finding the best man to propel to victory/be a pawn for because she as a woman will ultimately never be the victor herself--is SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING than "okay, yeah, she spent years declaring how unfit her ex-bff/stepdaughter is to rule, but she didn't know people would actually take that seriously...she just wants rhaenyra to be OKAY, yall..." (I have a lot of feelings about how the show wrote alicent, okay?)

And arcane is one of my favourite shows of all time, and I've been lucky enough to MOSTLY stay on the good side of the fandom, which, from my end, is usually pretty amazing with an appreciation for nuanced media. But it genuinely makes my blood boil when I see people claim that Vi "could have gone back for jinx on the bridge" (ep. 7), when the moment they're referencing is vi supporting an injured Caitlyn, who almost died by jinx's bombs, RIGHT AFTER JINX SHOT AT THEM BOTH, AND RIGHT AFTER EKKO TOLD VI TO GO. "She left her sister to get beat up--" everything in vi's face in that scene speaks to her reluctance. She's holding up a girl she's growing closer to, who could actually be grievously injured, and she knows, at this point, that jinx is irrational--jinx just shot at her. Like...we knew that vi wasn't going to die, but she could've really easily. Ekko says he'll handle it. There's another bomb. Vi goes back to look for jinx AS SOON as Caitlyn's sitting down somewhere relatively safe (at which point, you know, she sees jinx being picked up by silco and his sidekicks). The point is, people act, with scenes like this one, like jinx was chucking paint bombs, not shooting fucking bullets en masse. I love all the arcane characters; jinx is such an interesting one, and her hallucinations and delusions do tend to make us wonder how much responsibility we can rightfully place on her shoulders. But people are really out here acting like she didn't...almost kill vi and cait there? We, from jinx's perspective, know that she saw Caitlyn as the literal devil; from vi and cait's povs, she just kind of walked up and tried to kill them. Am I making my point yet?

Speaking of arcane, i hope in season 2 we get scenes of characters from piltover who are really rooting for the oppression of the undercity. Not because of what jinx did, not because of the war, not because they "just don't know" how bad it is...because they make a profit off of it, and for that they are perfectly content letting people become dependent on drugs and make their livings from dangerous work in factories and mines. The whole point of "the city of progress" is that it became what it was off the backs of the undercity. We get a lot of characters in season 1 REALIZING the conditions down there, but I want them realizing in season 2 that not everybody was sheltered, they were just making a profit. (I kind of want to see Heimerdinger called out, too. Like, yeah, he's fluffy and cute and stuff, but if he's the founder of piltover, he's also been there since the beginning of the undercity, and didn't care because immortality yada yada. Have I envisioned scenes of ekko calling vi a sellout and she's just like "bitch and who the fuck are you working with?" and everybody's miserable? Yes. Yes I have. And don't come for me, ekko is the mvp of this show. Let a girl dream).

Even people like Tony Stark...people be acting like he's not actually an asshole a lot of the time. Or that he didn't know what weapons did before he stopped distributing them. I like tony, he's entertaining. But I'm not going to act like I need him to be a saint who didn't know shit about the world or basic courtesies to like him.

Idk if fandoms are just weird like that, but you can like your fave even if they do shitty things. They don't always have to be helpless, or just too stupid to realize what's going on. I don't understand why so many people are opposed to being entertained by people who do shitty things. Where's the appreciation for the drama? The messiness? The chaos?

[niichanism]

OK this fic is also so silly. the thought process was like

man ace spends a lot of time tied up in canon > didn’t the bandits also tie him up so he wouldn’t go after the celestial dragon  >  lol what if they just did that to him a lot. ace’s version of being grounded was being literally tied to a tree > what if he got a weird kink from it > incest. 

i think ace would hate being tied up actually but also maybe he just chills out LOL the img of him being like “ugh yeah fine whatever” about objectively such a weird thing his foster family does to deal with him is like. so funny to me.

idk this is some au where sabo has his accident n gets his scars but just gets fished out of the ocean and goes back to goa/the jungle w the boys. they get to have their extended adolescence together :’) and fuck a lot :’ ) 

half finished fic that i really wanted to finish but is ultimately too silly

tw: bondage, asl as a ship, underage, dubcon (?), my energy fizzed out before the sex scene

xxx

Sabo and Luffy find Ace half dozing off in a corner with his hands behind his back and legs tied with several yards of rope. 

Pipe in hand, panting, Sabo stares down at the other teenage boy in disbelief. Ace turns a smile up at them, and for a moment, Sabo wonders if they drugged him. He'd have to bash some extra skulls in for that– no, take Ace back to town first–

Ace yawns though. With a few blinks, he's back to full awareness, and the juvenile, smug air that comes with it. “Hey, you came back.”

“You– of course we came back,” Sabo says, sighing.  “Luffy, watch the door, will you?” 

“Got it!”

Sabo crouches down, examining the haphazard wraps and knots entrapping Ace from knees to ankles. He raises an eyebrow.

“Got jumped from behind,” Ace says, tilting his head with a grin. “Took a shot to my head, knocked right out. Cowards. But I didn't lose a fight, understand?”

Sabo pauses, since his hands haven't even figured out where to start if he wants to untie Ace.

“Think you have a concussion?” 

“...What's that again?”

“Damn it, Ace,” Sabo says, reaching up to check his skull for any bumps. 

They really hadn't expected this band of third-rate pirates to be an issue at all. In fact, they still didn't think of them as an issue. Most of them were face down on the deck outside thanks to Sabo and Luffy. Sabo thought they probably wouldn't pick a fight again. 

Well, Ace had technically picked the fight.

He wonders what they would've done with his brother. Drag him to the authorities in High Town? Toss him overboard, sell him off? Ace wouldn't have allowed any of those things. But he hadn't escaped at first chance either? He just seemed content sitting there like a dope while Sabo hovered, confused by the whole thing. 

Finding no bumps, Sabo raps his knuckles into Ace’s hairline. All that forehead, and any brains inside just evaporate at the first insult or punch thrown. 

“You're so crazy sometimes.”

“Aw,” Ace coos as if it’s a compliment. “You should be thanking me. I took a fall so you and Luffy could escape.”

He leans in like a dog waiting for praise. Sabo works one knot loose, scowling as he pulls the rope against itself. 

“No, you stayed behind to finish a meaningless fight for no reason–”

 “Those guys–” “For no reason,” Sabo repeats, yanking the rope harder. Luffy snickers behind him, and that puts a smile on both of their faces. 

“It was cool, Ace.” 

“See?”

“That big bruise on your face isn’t very cool, though! Hahaha!”

“Ah—? Shut it, I told you they played dirty!”

Sabo rolls his eyes, though there's nothing to it. Luffy starts talking about what a nice pirate ship this is, and what his is going to look like in comparison. It’s always pleasant background noise, Luffy’s dreams. Sabo pulls at the bind, pauses, then glances at Ace’s arms. “You can break out of that yourself, can't you?”

“Hm? Eh… maybe.” Those muscles of his twitch, testing the give of the rope. “Yeah, probably.”

“Why didn't you do that earlier?”

“Well, I was waitin’ for the bastards to come back so I could teach them a lesson. But we’d just ate, so I was sleepy.” Ace tilts his head, half-heartedly flexing against the cords. “It feels kinda good, anyway.”

“What, being tied up?” 

Ace realizes he said something weird. Sabo can see it on his face, but he gets over it quickly and pretends he never said anything at all. Figures. At the same time, he must know that Sabo tucked that piece of information away.

Sabo finds the weak points of the ropes and frees his legs, feeling high-spirited. 

They dash over unconscious bodies on the way back to the beach. 

*

Come to think of it, Ace spent a lot of time tied up. 

Sabo remembers being eight years old, terribly anxious when Ace disappeared nearly five full days without a trace. He ventured further into the jungle than ever, trying to find him. Met Ace halfway on the fifth day when he leapt from a tree and landed right in Sabo’s face. He looked just fine, if not grouchier than usual beneath the jungle canopy’s dappled shade.

“What happened?”

“Got tied up.”

And then he'd waited, with apparently such utter confusion on his face that Ace had to explain, groaning it out the whole time. 

“I got too close to killing some guy in town, I guess? The hag found out and had her goons tie me up for a few days to teach me a lesson.” He spat into the underbrush. “Get real.” 

“Tied you up… like with rope?”

“Yeah.” 

“For a few days?”

Ace’s eyes scrunched shut; he tilted his head like he had to think hard about it. “They let me outside when I gotta piss ‘n crap.” 

“Oh,” Sabo had said, still trying to imagine being tied down like that. Being stuck in his room was bad enough. Ace considered him for a few moments, then shrugged. 

“I guess you're on your own out here so nobody does that to you. Lucky.” 

Sabo didn’t think most people did that to their kids at all. Then again, most people weren’t mountain bandits. He decided not to voice that. 

Ace smiled, missing teeth and full of mischief, then tapped his pipe on his shoulder and kept walking straight past Sabo. “It’s fine, it’s kinda like training! Not that I’m ever gonna let myself get caught!”

And that wasn’t the last time Sabo heard of Dadan’s particular disciplinary method, though it seemed more like a preventative measure for when Ace’s temper got the best of him or he had to be painstakingly kept away from trouble. Apparently, aftemaiden voyage— his accident— they’d had to tie Ace to a tree for a night, too. When they met up again, Ace apologized for it so breathlessly Sabo thought he might throw up.

Then there were all the times they got wrangled up in Luffy, literally, whether that was because they were practicing tying knots with his limbs or because Luffy felt clingy of his own accord. Ace’s tolerance for their little brother’s clinginess had risen exponentially. He was a bit greedy for it, in fact. That was wrangled up in puberty, which had struck all of them hard and fast. 

All that feeling good together came down to experimentation. When the opportunity presented itself, Sabo was just a little curious. Luffy had to practice his sailor’s knots, anyway.

“Think he’s gonna get mad at us?” Luffy asks, snaking the rope around Ace’s ankle and the leg of the chair. He tongues his lip in concentration.

Sabo tightens a bowline to secure his brother’s wrists behind him, then crouches to check his circulation. Looks good. Ace hums in his sleep, head lolling onto the back of the chair. Luffy and Sabo exchange a smile.

“Do you think he’s going to get mad at us?” Sabo counters.

 Luffy hums, high and long. 

“Not really,” he decides, moving his hands a lot. “‘Cause it’s like a sex thing, right?”

“Right,” Sabo says.

“Like sex and… training,” Luffy ponders. “Yep, if it’s like that, Ace’ll definitely understand, hehehe.”

“...Un’erstand what?”

Ace is slow to wake from his fits. Spends half a minute like the undead, cotton in his ears and mouth. Luffy shoots up and grabs his face.  

“You’re up!” he shouts, clutching Ace in both hands, sticky-like. Ace winces at the volume and the humidity, slow-blinking light back to his eyes. Dark pupils drift left– the treehouse’s broad, familiar trunk– then right, to a bright 6 pm sky. 

There are a few more moments of silence, looking for Sabo, relaxing when he senses the middle brother at his back. He sighs out short and sort of sinks against his binds. 

Pleased, Sabo pats his shoulder and circles around to stand with Luffy. Ace looks down. Then up. He yawns.  “OK, what the hell is this?”

Sabo flashes a thumbs up. “Training special.” Ace frowns. 

“We’re having sex,” Luffy informs him, his bright, salty breath in Ace’s face. Their brother’s eyebrows jump like bugs.  

“And I’m tied up… why?”

Sabo shrugs, hand on hip like a premature victory pose. “Can you break out of this one?” Ace makes a more serious effort than the initial wagging from earlier. His jaw locks. Bare arms and legs thump dully against their shoddy carpentry. It’s the chair that Sabo uses to write letters and notes, draw and study maps. He likes this use of it a lot so far.

Ace’s shoulders strain and skew until he grimaces, settles down. “Oh. Damn, Sabo, you’re good at these. You sure you don’t wanna sail on my ship?” Sabo gets a good laugh out of that while Luffy snatches up Ace’s cheeks again. “I did your legs!” Ace fights his hands, cranes his neck to look down. “Uh. Yeah, I guess you did a good job, too.” Ace’s stiff black shorts move with him in multi-directional twitches, but his ankles and shins are stuck in place. Sabo is not really surprised to see that the knots around them are unintelligible and intense. They’re jumbled up thick and sturdy, so many chaotic loops and tumors that they probably cannot be undone without a knife. Sabo pets Luffy’s hair. It’s warm as summer grass and his hand lingers. “You’re surprisingly calm about this, Ace.” It’s somewhat uncomfortable to shrug with his wrists pulled behind the chair. Ace does it anyway, unflapped and quick. 

“Eh. What are you two gonna do, cook ‘n eat me?” he asks sarcastically, then blows his bangs out of his eyes. Luffy cackles, perhaps remembering some of Garp’s campfire stories about pirate cannibals. Ace catches Sabo’s eye, speaks up. “Didn’t Luffy say we’re having sex?”

“Something like that,” Sabo says kindly. Ace’s eagerness dims by a shade of reservation. Sabo reaches over to ruffle his hair, earning a quiet scowl. “And you really don’t mind this so far?” A beat. Another futile rustling of arms and legs. Then Ace shoots a prickly, lopsided grin his way. “Well now I feel like,” he starts, “that’s gonna change somehow.”

“I like it when you think ahead, Ace.” “Gee, thanks,” says his brother, nodding along. “I try my best when it comes to keeping up with you two. Ahhh, fat lotta good that does me, though.” Well, that’s not really a compliment, but it’s said with warmth all the same. Ace looks between them like there’s a puzzle to be solved. He sighs again, sinking against the ropes, loose and lazy with it. “Ehhh. How long d’you wanna keep me like this, anyway? What if I get hungry–? I’ll beat your ass if you eat in front of me–” “Hmmm. Well, you did tie Luffy to a tree for a good six hours back in the day,” Sabo recalls. “OK, and who’s the other bitch ass older brother who let me?” Ace drawls. “Anyway, that was once. He’s over it. You’re over it, right, Luffy?” “Well, it did suck,” Luffy recounts lightly. The frown doesn’t even last a second, overtaken by his moon-sized grin. “But this isn’t supposed to be a punishment. It’s a challenge!” “Oh, yeah?” Ace perks up. “Whose idea?” “Sabo’s!” Ace’s disappointment shows in full, shutters his face in a second. “Oh.” “Hey,” says Sabo. 

“Luffy’s challenges are stupid, and yours are… a pain.”  A grin. “No offense.”

“Guess I can’t be offended that my challenges actually challenge you,” Sabo scoffs. He wags a finger at Ace. “Not that you’ll ever admit it. You’re so cocky.” 

“Name a great pirate who isn’t!” Ace laughs at his own joke. He wets his lips, excited. Competition wakes him up as always. “Anyway, what’s the challenge? Don’t tell me I’m stuck here to learn patience or some junk.”

“Nahhh.” Luffy folds his arms and declares, “It’s an epin— an en– an endearing thing.” Ace and Sabo exchange two short, dry smiles. “An endurance thing,” they correct him. “Right.” “Yeah, I don’t like the sound of that.”

“No, no, you’ll like it,” Sabo replies, all mischief, resting his hand on Luffy’s sun-tanned bare shoulder. It turns sweet– Sabo can’t help but be sweet on Luffy– his little brother turns with delicious trust in his eyes, and Sabo indulges in a kiss. Then another. The third one is in earnest, open-mouthed and wet like they learned to love a few years ago. 

Sabo and Luffy just straight up make out in front of Ace while he’s tied up and he’s like oh fuck you guys at least undo my pants 

his brothers marvel at how hard he got so fast just being tied up and watching them swap spit 

then they take turns bouncing on ace’s dick no matter how many times he cums 🤔 the end 💕

[prairiedust]

one thousand days of destiel, or cas: fuckerupper of endings

Idk why I’m crawling out from under my woodpile to write this, except that it occurred to me that in three years I’ve not rewatched a single episode of Supernatural and have at least two dozen tags yet blacklisted on tumblr, and that I am still not okay about this stupid show.

I never tried to tie up the folklore/author themes I’d been geeking out about through the last seasons, neither as the show was ending nor afterwards. I’ve been simmering now for over a thousand days. I could not even write a complete sentence about spn for all this time, and so I just left that pot on the back burner and did other things. Finished my Master’s degree. Started a new job. Saw my oldest child graduate from high school and move off to college, and helped my younger child move on to sixth grade. Watched some other shows, got a new blorbo, saw some movies, started painting again, picked up a couple of new hobbies as I am wont to do.  

Today is the 5th of November, 2023. (ETA i sat on this for a bit.)

November 5th, 2020, was exactly one thousand and ninety-five days ago.

I see gifs from the show from time to time and I think to myself, wow, that scene/episode/series is completely irrelevant to my life now. I am fine and normal about everything. But if it really was, if I really was, it would not hurt so much to see the gifs and the lyric posts and the amvs when they aren’t caught in my tag filters. So maybe it’s time to get some things out of my head and onto paper.

I genuinely, nearsightedly, naively thought that since Dabb et al had been the ones writing the whole folk v author themes, and thus posing as someone we could count as being on “our side,” the folk-side of the postmodern audience, they’d honor that conceit, even to the very last shot. 

They did not.

And yet… they absolutely did.

Which hurts and is fucked up, but also it’s fine. It’s fine.

In the end, the only “folk hero” (by which I mean the only force in the spn universe capable of warping the threads of the story with any permanence) was Castiel. When Castiel left the story (of his own volition, if you can find a comfortable layer of this meta pie for that concept to rest in,) the writers reverted to God Mode. Because Castiel had been their freedom, their mouthpiece, their avenue for improvisation, and so at the end of the series…

well, we got You changed me/I love you

   •

and then we got “Cas helped.”

So much has been written about that pivot point, but genuinely I don’t give a rat’s ass about rewrites, producers, the cutting room floor, or COVID. It exhausts me, and I’m not beholden to writing about spn for grades or notes or any kind of other bullshit that would oblige me to do research.

I feel like… we got what we got.

So let’s criticize some media.

The Paradox: 

Cas imploded— went from flexing the narrative from within to being narrated by a force from without. And I couldn’t bear to wrap my head around that for a long time. It seemed that this “twist” was beyond cruel. That’s what he got. Vanished and nerfed. For saying ily. That was what happened when he was finally in focus, fully revealed. He lost. He was relegated, along with Jack, to become heaven’s Two Men and a Truck.

It was a trick, the whole “Chuck is a writer” plotline. The Author regained control of the character that had previously been acting independently. Very Pirandellesque, very frustrating, ultimately even tragic.

So, yes, thematically and critically, having Castiel give up his Agency for Characterhood– giving up his ability to create plot for a role as a character in a plot— was ‘literary’ brilliance. It cemented his status as a grand fucker-upper of the show in a way that any show writer “authoring” a requited destiel ending would not and could not have done. Even Jack, I believe, had been “manipulated” into god-hood from within the narrative. Jack was Dabb’s grand metaphor, he was a product of Author. Castiel was… well, he was a chaos engine from the moment he walked through those barn doors. 

To seal the metaphor, the writers ended up living that truth.

I really don’t know if I’m being cogent about this. I’ve been struggling to turn this idea into words for, like, ONE THOUSAND DAYS.

The folk-vs-Author themes becoming A Thing in The Supernatural Show was like a chemical reaction: once the ions had bonded, the resultant compound could not be separated back into the different materials. What on that screen was Author, what was “author,” ie show writer, and what was text-experiencer-as-author? Where did the Sam-as-magician arc go, what were we supposed to do with the semi-metatextual moments that Mary had, having been brought back into the narrative by Amara, not Chuck? Everything got so out of control. Add in a smidgen of secret-sauce-TPTB possibly superseding the author/Author, and what you get is that ridiculous mess of a final two episodes.

It’s not about the rusty trombone or the butt hole pleasures. It’s about love. And kids.

Thank you, hon. It really is. (The above line was left in this doc by my spouse. It is a quote from The 40-Year-Old Virgin. I’ll allow it.)

Anyway. It was hard to see past the sound and the fury of it all. 

*****

I was feeling nostalgic several months ago and took a swim in my old meta tags; I found a gem from season…10? Idk and idc, but it was from “The Things We Left Behind.” 

I compared Claire to Sleeping Beauty (a tale that got a lot of use in later seasons) and wrote: “I tend to think that Castiel’s entire arc is about desperate and unintentionally misguided attempts to Change The Ending of whatever story he’s shown up in” and reading that again really kind of sucker-punched me.

‘We’re making it up as we go’ was the crux of Cas’ existence. Remember that half-related story in Baby wherein Cas got himself hitched to the Djinn queen? Remember when Jack died and the Empty came to claim him in Heaven and Cas made that terrible bargain? The last-minute attempt to gank Lucifer that actually got him killed and sent to The Empty?

Time and time again, Castiel’s go-to for “changing the narrative,” for advancing his plot, is self-sacrifice. In Chuck’s house against the archangel. The Leviathan disaster. Saying ‘yes’ to Lucifer. The Bargain for Jack in Heaven. And those times it worked out. Not without great pain for both the other characters and for the viewers, but he always came back. 

And with each return, his motivation became clearer. (Picture your favorite screencap of Dean here.)

Cas’ love grew, crystalized, and then disappeared, like frost on the windowpane of a house on fire.

If they had continued the CasDean storyline, it would have ultimately been The Author IRL writing/creating/manifesting/materializing ‘destiel.’ And so by putting a torch to all of that architecture, they essentially gave everything to us. Unspoilt. Fingerprints wiped. Serial numbers scratched away. Jailbroken. Whatever floats your boat. 

The confession was both affirmation and abnegation. Symbolically, The AuthorTM had washed his hands of it, but with destiel out of the picture, The Author also got his ending.

This is why “Cas helped” felt like a ‘fuck you.’ If Cas was out of the narrative, why did he come back as one of Heaven’s real estate developers? It did not fit. 

And yet. It did. Because Chuck won. Chuck, or everything that an Author represents in television land– TPTB, showrunner legacies, multiple producers, a chaotic and treacherous and politically messy writer’s room, multiple incompatible or unresolvable MOs and visions— all that ends up being packaged and presented as a single unerring vision.

So I have to admit, although I don’t have to do it with any ion of grace, that in the end it was pretty fucking smart.

Destiel is ours. Destiel is the folk ending. The Author never got to touch it, never so much as breathed on it, was so far divorced from the concept that the absence thereof going forward hit us like a truck full of bricks.

Yes, it hurts that Dean was just left on the floor until the credits rolled, that there were no final words, no ensuing acknowledgement. 

I’ll go so far outside the Text as to address the ‘Dean can’t reciprocate’ direction from one of the scripts:

If Dean had made a single move onscreen. Uttered a word. In Despair or either of the other two episodes.

Destiel would have been claimed by The Author. 

Anyway. I’ve been collecting posts now and again under the tag ‘the endless folklore of supernatural.’ For three years, the fandom has continued to loot, to ransack, to graffiti, to create and re-create, to burn, to mix, and to distill. 

There’s all kinds of things in that tag, it’s sort of a kitchen sink of everything that I thought was even tangentially relevant to folk-Destiel and the postmodern experience of creating text as a reader/viewer etc. 

We turned a literary story based on an urban folktale back into folklore. 

And so it goes.

I doubt I will do much more analysis of this show, even if it comes back, and I unfortunately can’t touch The Winchesters. But I can’t say I never will. I just thought three years, one thousand days, was a pretty good place to leave a marker on the trail.

—

Epilogue: About The Winchesters:

I did not finish watching The Winchesters because of something wildly, randomly, but highly personally triggering that was built into one of the episodes; however I am very sorry that it was canceled or possibly ironically lost to the WGA-SAGAFTRA strike of 2023.

“What is the maddest thing a man can do? Let himself die.” That’s the clue that leads Castiel to his hidden grace in a copy of The Man of LaMancha in 10.18 ‘The Book of the Damned,’ written by one Robbie Thompson.

I noticed from the get-go that Thompson gave Carlos the last name Cervantez. He was nodding to the self-immolation of the last cadre of writers of Supernatural and stating clearly that he was holding a pen, not a match.

Want some very fun and amusing and wildly pertinent facts about the Don Quixote books?

The narrative conceit of Don Quixote IN THE FIRST PLACE LOL is that Cervantes claims to have found a manuscript by a historian named Cide Hamete Benegeli and Cervantes thought the story was pretty neat, if a little rough; Cervantes retells the story for us from what he’d read by that author, distilling the “original” into the book we experience as Don Quixote the Man of La Mancha.

The final words of Cervantes’ Part One are “perhaps another will sing with a better pick.”

Later, someone publishing under the pseudonym Alonso Fernandez de Avellaneda wrote their own part two, feeling that the original author was taking too long to get their ass in gear (or judging by their own preface they felt that Cervantes had not even done the original story justice in the first place. Which is A Mood.)

So when someone actually did have the audacity to run off with his characters and commit word crimes with them, Cervantes absolutely obliterated the dude in his own Part Two. 

Thompson left Spn after season eleven. But, lest someone think this is a commentary about fan fic, he also wrote the episode Fan Fiction. So anyway all the Cervantez-Cervantes business was certainly something.