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ultraericthered · 1 month ago

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One Villainous Scene: *Twist* Ending

From one kind of "twist ending" involving a supervillain to another, and this one is super appropriate for the coming of spooky season!

The tragically, criminally shortly lived, desparately in need of a revival The Spectacular Spider-Man, probably the best animated Spider-Man series ever made, gave us a rather unusual approach to Spidey's greatest foe, the Green Goblin. Rather than be just a costumed villain with a secret identity looking to take over the criminal underworld of New York as he was in the comics, this Goblin was still that but with the mystery of his identity played out in a way more reminiscent of how the Hobgoblin's arc in the comics was like. Red herrings, misdirections, fakeouts, making you question if what you thought you saw is what you really saw, etc. Back in Season 1, the mystery of the Green Goblin seemed to be solved with the reveal that Peter's friend Harry Osborn had been taking his father Norman's "Globulin Green" formula as a drug to enhance his performance as school, and had overhead Norman's dealings with the Big Man of Crime that made him want to take out the Big Man to help his dad....but it never quite seemed right. The Green Goblin was far more knowledgable, ruthless and devious than Harry had ever been shown to be, and the part about why Harry would challenge the Big Man as the Green Goblin came from Norman's mouth rather than Harry's own. So despite us seeing an unhinged Harry in the Goblin costume, overcome by the aftereffects of the serum (including super strength as he fucking hurled his dad across the room), and even with a limp that the Goblin got from his last fight with Spider-Man, there was always something that felt wrong with this picture.

So when Season 2 saw the surprise return of the Green Goblin as he manipulated a gang war that led to him successfully ousting Tombstone from his position as Big Man of Crime, which the Goblin took over, it was time to revisit the events of the previous season and get clarification that no, Harry is not, and never was, the Green Goblin. The suspicion thus falls to Norman Osborn, but we already saw the Goblin and him in the same place, and we see it again in this season finale, so that rules him out. The suspect list is finally narrowed down to Oscorp's president, Donald Menken....but NOPE! The Green Goblin shows up, knocks out Menken, and takes Spidey on a wild ride across an entire city district that he's had rigged with death traps! During this final battle, the Goblin's mask comes off, unveiling none other than Norman Osborn, mastermind behind many of the Big Man's supervillain creations and crimes, the current Big Man, and the Green Goblin the entire time. The "Norman" we saw both times the Goblin was on the scene was actually the Chameleon in disguise (revealed in a perfect way: Harry recalls something that might've gone missed by the audience, how "Norman" had earlier said the words "I'm sorry" to Spidey, and as was repeatedly stressed in Episode 1 alone, Norman Osborn never apologizes!)

And then we get the above scene, where Norman just reveals everything. A big exposition dump in the middle of a fight should not work, but here it just feels so natural and so exciting, like a mystery has finally come to the solution phase, and the switch from Steve Blum's manic Green Goblin to Alan Rachins' stern and cold yet still totally deranged Norman is so jarring yet somehow feels natural enough that it gives me shivers. But of course, the part that stands out the most is the part about the limp. Norman had faked limping as the Goblin intending for Spidey, who'd accused the Goblin of being Norman Osborn to his face during that fight, to go pursue Norman only to find him walking just fine without any limp, which would put him off his trail...but by happenstance, Norman returned home to find his son passed out from having drank too much of the formula. So Norman improvised with a better tactic - dressing Harry up in the Goblin costume and twisting his leg in order to give him a limp, framing his own son for the crimes he'd committed. Norman, of course, rationalizes this by saying that if he'd been found out and sent to prison for his crimes, Harry would be left without a father around to "make a man out of him." Shortly afterwards, Spidey webs one of Norman's own pumpkin bombs to his glider. The bomb goes off, which sends Norman's glider hurling towards a water tower he'd rigged with a whole supply of pumpkin bombs. There are explosions, and the night sky rings with those horrible scream sounds that the bombs make when they go off. Norman Osborn has perished.

The whole thing just absolutely haunts you long after the show has wrapped up, and to throw one last cruel twist at you (aside from Norman's never-to-be-explained survival that the show ends on), we get that scene at the funeral, where in a moment of grief and mad desparation for comfort and love, Harry straight up emotionally manipulates Gwen into staying in a relationship with him rather than leaving him for Peter like he figured she was set on doing. It seems the pumpkin doesn't roll too far from the patch in the Osborn family.

#One Villainous Scene #Marvel #The Spectacular Spider-Man #Norman Osborn #Harry Osborn #the Green Goblin

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newgenog · 1 year ago

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REVENGE

Notes: This is STILL NOT part one of chapter seven. For the foreseeable future, this is a teaser zone.

If you're just stumbling across this, and haven't already done so, please stop now, and start by reading chapter one.

This #Batwoman AU is based on the ABC tv series #Revenge. Ryan Wilder had just about everything taken from her when we met her, and she was doing her best to get it back. In this version of the story, that means taking some people down along the way. And, she's definitely no hero.

Okay, so, I was a no show (for the first time ever) last Friday. Please forgive me, but I had an absence letter from Queen Bey. That's right, instead of writing or talking about my beloved fic, I was dancing my ass off at the Renaissance concert. So, thank you in advance for your forgiveness.

I DO have a sneak peek for you this week (which is super duper draft 1, so words might shift here and there by the time it's posted on A03 - bear with me). And, if life allows, I'm working towards posting this chapter in full by September 1st (which would mean only one more week of teasers for "season one.") Per always, please send me all the writing vibes you've got. Words are coming, but not always quickly, so every bit of wishful thinking helps!

CHAPTER SEVEN SNEAK PEEK

TUESDAY, JULY 11TH, 9:00 PM, RUSSEL TAVAROFF’S CAR

Russel has been sitting in his car for two hours, paralyzed by his thoughts. A little more than twelve hours ago, he’d just finished his second cup of coffee when he was called into Jacob Kane’s office. He took his time explaining everything he’d come up with on Luke Fox, his concerns about Sophie Moore’s conflict of interest, and his speculation on why Luke could be after the Kane family, with evidence in hand. The Commander let him do most of the talking, never really looking at the printouts, but asking the occasional follow up question for clarification. When it seemed Tavaroff had covered everything, the Commander sat back in his seat, and then asked him what his career goals were. Of course, Tavaroff said he’d really appreciated the opportunity to learn from him, and that he hoped to continue doing so. He felt it was an honor to be trusted with the responsibility of interim Lieutenant Commander.

Jacob took the folder of files, and thanked Russel for bringing him up to speed. He said that if he was going to continue taking on new assignments, he’d need to make room on his desk, and asked him to start delegating the things he’d been working on to several people he was reassigning, especially with Tyler being out of commission, and them having trading cases before the accident. So, Tavaroff spent the day doing as he was asked.

By 4PM, there was a 5PM meeting on his calendar, with Jacob Kane’s office as the location. The agenda stated they’d be discussing next steps. The only next step was for Tavaroff to sign an NDA in exchange for a package, which included his salary for the remainder of the year, his vacation payout, and the cash value of his stock in an exit bonus. Should he choose not to sign and leave quietly, an investigation would need to be initiated, and a psych evaluation completed, with potential disciplinary actions taken that could limit his ability to work in law enforcement again in the future.

The Commander did thank him for his commitment to the organization, and dedication to protecting his family. Unfortunately, his decision to pursue Luke Fox without approval, who was too visible as an executive at his daughter’s company, and as the son of the renowned Lucius Fox, did not demonstrate the kind of judgment that the Commander expected from someone at Tavaroff’s level. He felt a mutual separation was the fairest course of action.

Upon signing, he was asked to hand over his firearm and badge. Then, he was escorted to his desk, where a box was awaiting him to collect any personal items he’d brought to the office, which needed to be approved to take with him. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone still in the building on his way out, let alone speak to them, because he could feel their eyes casting judgment against him. Embarrassed was simply an inept word for how he felt.

They did take a look around his car, to make sure he didn’t have anything of theirs laying around that they’d need to confiscate, but they really relied on the NDA to protect them. The truth was, they weren’t above more permanent forms of termination if they felt like a prior employee posed a security threat. There were very few examples of anyone taking such a risk that required mitigation, but in the rare occasion, those people managed to have surprisingly coincidental incidents occur that made them a non-issue.

When Tavaroff arrived home around 6PM, he’d changed out of his suit and tie, taken a shower, drank a beer, and then noticed a folder he’d left on his kitchen table. He walked over to it, and saw a few printed pictures that he’d been meaning to come back to and analyze with more intention, but he’d lost track of the idea. There were two high school yearbook photos: one for Sophie Moore, and one for the girl two grades younger, Angelique Martin. And then there was a third image of Angelique bartending at O’Mally’s during some sort of holiday party.

He closed the folder, frustrated with himself. He didn’t work for them anymore, so these people's stories shouldn’t matter. He’d dedicated years of his life to a company that turned its back on him when he was trying to protect them. The compulsion to break away led him to put on his shoes, and head out the door, in his basketball shorts and tshirt.

He’d gotten into his car, and didn’t know where to go. He didn’t know who to call. He didn’t know what he’d say to them if he did call. So he just sat, waiting for an idea to materialize. Instead, the only thoughts he was berated with were rehashings of how these people could ruin life as he knew it. Sure, this wasn’t the only thing he had going, but so much of who he was tied back to his role at The Crows.

Now, two hours later, he’s tired of sitting. He needs to do something. He needs answers, and to take his control back. He decides to pick up where Tyler left off.

~~~~~

To be continued...

I really appreciate every comment, heart, and reblog. Kudos and comments on A03 too. These words don't always flow easily, and all of it pushes me to write on the hard days. It helps to know y'all are still with me. So THANK YOU, seriously! Follow #SaveBatwoman on all socials please! Support the Writer and Actor strikes. #wgastrike #sagaftrastrike #StopCancellingDiverseShows

#batwoman #wildmoore #ryan x sophie #wildmoore week #ryan wilder #sophie moore #save batwoman #fanfic #lgbtq #wmw23

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amplifyme · 1 year ago

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@randomfoggytiger You asked for clarification about this:

The part I haven’t firmly grasped yet is his fight with Buster in the cave, which leads him to remember Cathy’s words about his son. I think that would bridge together two vaporous thoughts that are hovering in the back of my mind.

All I can do is give you my take on it, which is the result of many years of pondering. But you have to draw your own conclusions. I hope this makes sense, because a lot of it is metaphorical thinking on my part. But already being familiar with Buster, I'm guessing you'll understand what I'm trying to say.

Buster knows everything Vincent knows. But Vincent doesn't know everything Buster knows. And we've both agreed that it was Buster in that cave with Cathy, right? So Buster has those memories. He also remembers what Cathy told them as she was dying. But Vincent is so deeply entrenched in his grief and his loss that he's just shut down the memory of what she said and the implications of it. It's too big to wrap his head around.

Until he goes back to the cave where he knows Cathy brought him out of the darkness, even if he can't remember it. And he's flooded with all these memories of Cathy and all this pain, and guess who shows up? Figuratively, of course, because we know Buster isn't actually a separate entity. What Buster does, what that fight says to me, is the equivalent of him grabbing Vincent by the shoulders and giving him a good shake. "She's gone. Now there's only you, and me."

But on the tail of that, maybe something like, "But there's also a child who's out there somewhere who needs us. Our child. WAKE UP!!"

If you'll recall, Vincent was on his knees in that scene, smoothing his hand across the floor of the cave. And the fight ended with him face down in the sand, where his fingers snagged and brought up Catherine's crystal, and that's when he remembers and has the vision of the child bathed in light, pointing the way out. And, what do ya know, Buster is gone. Mission accomplished?

The only thing I can never make complete sense of is the crystal itself. Did Buster know it was there somewhere, left behind to be found later? Would the struggle have gone on until Vincent died of it, if he hadn't unearthed the crystal? I have no doubt Buster started it and why, but how and why did finding the crystal end it? I dunno. Your guess is as good as mine.

#beauty and the beast 1987 #season 3 #walk slowly #vincent #buster #the crystal #the cave #speculation and conjecture #discussion

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bamidbar · 1 year ago

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For those of you who don't speak German and can't engage with journalist Esther Schapira's investigation (a film she produced for German public television) on the Muhammed Al-Durra incident, here's a Google translation (with minimal editing for clarification) of her article at least:

Hardly any picture embodies the accusation against Israel as clearly and as cruelly as that television scene. He was twelve years old when he sought shelter with his father behind a concrete barrel in the firefight between Israelis and Palestinians on that fateful September 30, 2000. That was the day on which the 52 seconds were taken in which Mohammed and his father Jamal Al Dura looked [in fear] into the camera [and] towards the Israeli checkpoint diagonally across the intersection. Shots can be heard. Dust swirls. The father is hit, then the son. He lies motionless in his father's lap. These images are on the news all over the world that same evening.

But what do they show? The death of Mohammed Al Dura? How a child is shot by Israeli soldiers? An accident? A murder?

[Schapira's] television documentary asks these questions and for that reason alone it causes so much outrage. Questions that are not questions for the Palestinians. "Why didn't [you] investigate," we asked General Saib Ajez, the then police chief in Gaza, and received a clear answer: "If there are differences in the assessment of a particular case, if an investigation becomes necessary, then of course [an] investigation takes place. But if everyone is of the opinion that the person concerned is the murderer, then of course such detailed investigations will not be carried out." And when we asked what everyone agreed on, he said just as simply and clearly: "It is the Israeli side that committed this murder."

Now this attitude may be understandable for the Gaza police chief. In the midst of the bloody conflict over the political future of his people, what interest should he have in the possible realization that everything could have been completely different? Why should the propaganda effect of these 52 seconds* be jeopardized for the sake of finding the truth, which in the worst case scenario would discredit one's own movement and, in the best case scenario, would only confirm what is already believed worldwide? What is shocking, however, is how many people in Germany and other countries in the Western world are also of the opinion that detailed research is unnecessary in this case because the culprit has already been identified. And the same viewers who accuse me of bias because of my name, to put it mildly, consider it completely irrelevant how and by whom the images that seem so clear were created.

*Of the alleged 6 minutes the Palestinian cameraman filmed for a French news channel about an alleged 45 minute shootout. Saying "alleged" because the information given from both parties has been contested, including in several legal battles.

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spectaculardistractions · 2 years ago

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To José Rubia Barcia Mexico City, 5 September 1948 My dear Barcia, Thank you so much for your lengthy and instructive letter. Kenneth did indeed write back in similar terms to the ones he used in his conversation with you. I don’t think he understood Illegible, Son of a Flute because, although he calls it a striking script, he follows that up immediately with an absolutely standard critique of what he sees as its structural defects. You can’t just say of a poetic film like this one, that it lacks a climax, or that the plot is underdeveloped or too confusing. You can’t judge a naturalist novel and a lyric poem the same way. Still, I’m not about to start arguing cinematic technique with my good friend Macgowan. He thinks there is no chance of it being made in Hollywood anyway. And he’s passing me on to that poor man who made that appalling film Dreams That Money Can’t Buy. Said film-maker, Hans Richter, is a German of precious little talent who made a few vanguard films back in 1927 or 1930. I know him well, and the very fact that Macgowan associated that film with Illegible, Son of a Flute suggests he regards everything unusual as bizarre in the same way. As for a teaching job, I gather it might be possible next year, as long as I could get some additional income elsewhere. I’ve taken note, in case something comes up (although not as a Spanish teacher, of course). I’m finally going to make a film with Dancigers. I’m moving sideways here like a crab. I produced several of Arniches’s films, in 1935 and 1936 just for the fun of it and to earn some money. I didn’t even put my name to them. And now, 15 years later, it turns out I’m going to be directing El último mono by Mr Carlos Arniches ‘seriously’ and with my name on it. Well, at least as far as light work goes, it’s one of the least undignified. They are giving me 18 days to film it. It’s going to be a real mess! But I’ll fight like mad to add at least a little dignity to the mise-en-scene and script. I’ll be free again in January and if I haven’t spent all the money I earn, we’ll all go to Los Angeles. I’m now negotiating with an American company, who want me to film Falla’s Master Peter’s Puppet Show. The terms of the proposal they sent me the day before yesterday are a bit confusing and I’ve asked for clarification. They talk about sending someone down here to talk things over with me and I’ve written back saying that I would be more than willing to travel up to them. If they agree (and if they pay my expenses, of course), we’ll see each other soon. But if they want to see me and this ohso-Aztec of lands at the same time, I’ll just have to agree. One of the reasons I would really like to come up for a week is to see you, drink co-both (a little neologism) gallons and talk at great length as Evita watches over us with her enigmatic Oriental eyes. And that’s that! I completely agree with you about giving the script to Jay Leyda. He’s one of the most honourable and intelligent men in American cinema. As well as being one of my best friends in the world. He wrote to me six or seven months ago, and I haven’t replied. I hope I’ll be able to soon. I’m ashamed… Send my regards if you see him. And to the Edwins as well. What is Rolfe up to? Working still as writer for Warner’s? I gather from his letters that came to an end. As for the dubbing business you mention, it’s impossible. Reasons: I’m not – we’re not – businessmen and would surely get our fingers burned. I have only enough money to get me from one day to the next, and that’s only when I have some; recently, if it hadn’t been for a good friend or two, I would have gone hungry. However, if we can get a bit of capital to start it up, it would be worth thinking about. But where would it come from? They are still doing dubbing here and Dancigers is losing money on every film. The union comes up with more obstacles by the day. They’re trying to stamp it out. They are ferociously antidubbers. And speaking of Dancigers, he won an Ariel yesterday for best film of 1947. It’s pitiful, trying to copy the world’s great film producing centres by handing out Ariels and Oscars to the miserable little films they make down here. It’s insane. If I didn’t have to go to union meetings, I wouldn’t have anything to do with the film world here. That’s how I keep out of all the mess, envy, sycophancy, machinations, etc., etc. Who knows if we’ll see one another soon, perhaps? Warmest regards to Evita and you, Luis PS It would be good if you could send me the original for Cuadernos Americanos. They are very quick at processing them. Please hold on to the two copies of the Illegible, Son of a Flute script and the ‘Introduction’. I may ask you to pass one of them to a certain person soon.

Jo Evans & Breixo Viejo, Luis Buñuel: A Life in Letters

#jo evans #breixo viejo #luis bunuel: a life in letters #luis bunuel #jose rubia barcia #kenneth macgowan #hans richter #jay leyda

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nochd · 5 months ago

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Actually there's more I need to mention on the genetic side. Because genetics is not as simple as people think it is, and small misunderstandings about some specific points can balloon into big misunderstandings about their consequences.

Let me start by telling you a bit about my family. As I said a couple of posts upthread, my father is adopted. His sisters, my aunts, both went out and found their birth families in like their forties. My father didn't, but getting on for twenty years ago now his birth mother came looking for him; she was in her 80s and I guess figured she wouldn't get many more chances to find out what had become of her son. His brother, my uncle, has neither sought his birth family nor to my knowledge had any attempt at contact from them.

What I'm saying is, my family includes groupings of people who are both socially and genetically related, and also groupings of people who are socially but not genetically related. So I have a benchmark of sorts for comparison. It's not a scientific study but in this field you tend to hear a lot of "What do scientists know? What matters is relationships and people's lived experience of them," so here is my lived experience of such relationships.

Me and my siblings? We have our differences, big ones. My twin sister and I are at very different points on the introversion--extroversion scale. But we're both musical, we're both stubborn as hell, and we both do a thing where we list rhyming words alphabetically ("bad, Brad, cad, Chad, clad, Dad, fad...") That wasn't a habit either of us picked up from the other; we both did it for years independently before finding out that the other did it too. We have a younger brother and he's musical and stubborn and lists rhyming words alphabetically as well.

My father and his (adopted) siblings -- well, they love each other, but there are no similarities like that. He and my uncle are about as different as it is possible for two men from the same culture to be.

And the birth families we've found after decades of separation? There, there are similarities. My aunt -- my father's genetic sister -- is a writer. I've never met her kids or their kids, they live in Australia, but I'm told they all have the same weird sense of humour as my immediate family. Both families independently are fans of The Goon Show and quote it at each other.

So... where in the genome should we expect to find the gene for listing rhyming words alphabetically? On which chromosome is the gene for appreciating The Goon Show?

And if that's not how it works, how does it work?

The leading theory, if you didn't believe in genetics, used to be that the human mind started off as a blank slate and we learned things purely by association. That is how GPTs and other "AI" technologies work, and I hope it's clear to everybody in 2024 that humans are not GPTs. I don't know how people who don't believe in genetics think it does work.

Rather than comb through the molecular weeds trying to trace a genetic influence from DNA strand to protein to cellular function(s) to organ function(s) to life experience, often researchers start at the other end, with families like mine. If you can show that genetic siblings consistently share a trait more often than adopted siblings, or identical twins more than ordinary siblings, then genes have to be involved somewhere.

But I think people underestimate what a general and broad statement it is to say that genes are "involved somewhere".

Here's a scenario. Two sets of identical twins are born to mothers who can't keep them; one pair of twins is Black, one pair is white. All four babies are given up for adoption. By some coincidence -- roll with it, it's just for clarification -- two very different adoptive families each adopt one twin from each pair. One adoptive family is rich, the other poor.

Now consider the four twins' trajectory through life. The ones in the rich family will of course have many more educational and employment opportunities open to them than the ones in the poor family. But assuming they live in the US or New Zealand or any other white-dominated country, people are going to perceive them differently according to their "race", and that too will impact on the course their lives take. The rich Black twin will have a very different experience driving his expensive car up to a police stop than his rich white adoptive sibling; quite likely an experience that will have much in common with that of his genetic brother driving a much less expensive car up to the same police stop.

Now, in the language of twin studies, is this a genetic effect or an environmental effect?

No. Guess again.

This is an experience which the birth-twins share, in which they differ from their adoptive siblings. This is, by definition, a genetic effect.

Next time you see a headline suggesting (say) that racial disparities in IQ "might have some genetic component", remember that.

"But that's not what 'genetic' means!" Yes it is.

You still think it's misleading, don't you? You think that the word genetic should be reserved for commonalities that are more, I guess, organic, right? Where the chains of cause-and-effect stay inside the subject's body and don't bounce out into society and reflect back again? The experts here should be more careful of their language, at least, shouldn't they? Don't they realize it's going to imply things that aren't true? I mean, if they did change their terminology, it would only affect extreme cases like this, right?

You think this because you believe it's unusual for genetic effects to be this convoluted; that it's exceptional for them to depend on things happening out in the environment like police racism.

You are mistaken.

*sighs a deep sigh*

Racism does not come from genetic or evolutionary science.

At this point I don't expect anyone to listen. I mean, partly because it's me, but also because the online Left has collectively decided that Genetics Is The Enemy.

"Scientific" racism predates Charles Darwin and Gregor Mendel; the theory as we know it, with its "Aryan master-race" and so on, came from a guy called Joseph Arthur de Gobineau, who made it up out of materials he derived from historical linguistics. That's right, from the Humanities. Not the Sciences at all, let alone genetics.

Modern genetic science was what finally buried the last shred of Gobineau's scientific credibility. We have genetics to thank for the insight that race is a social construct.

I mean, not exclusively genetics; some anthropologists had been saying it for decades before. But genetics was what clinched it.

Here in the Pacific, in the mid-20th century, there was a complicated tangle of theories about where Pacific Island people's ancestors had come from. On the one hand, archaeology and linguistics and oral history seemed to indicate a series of successive migrations from a Melanesian hub out to more and more distant island groups. On the other, race science said that the Polynesians and Micronesians, who were relatively light-skinned and "noble" looking, couldn't be closely related to the dark-skinned Melanesians; they must have come by another route from India or somewhere.

Even here in New Zealand, the Moriori people of the Chatham Islands were theorized to be the remnant of a Melanesian ethnic group who had lived in mainland Aotearoa before being exterminated by the later-arriving Polynesian Māori.

(This theory was spread to a generation of New Zealand schoolchildren after it had been debunked, but that's another story. In case you're wondering, the first people to live here were, beyond any shadow of scientific doubt, Māori.)

Then DNA testing came along, and confirmed the story told by archaeology and linguistics and oral history, leaving the racial theory of separate origins on the scrapheap. Here as elsewhere, you got a clear, coherent story from your analysis if you weighted all "racial" factors at 0.

The Nazis never heard of DNA. I'm sure they would have been eager to use it to prove their theories if they had, but they would have been, to put it mildly, disappointed, and they would have silenced their genetic researchers with extreme prejudice before they could tell the world the truth.

But none of that is going to matter. Genetics Is The Enemy, regardless of whether it has actually done anything bad.

#science #genetics #genetics is not the enemy #racism #discrimination #twin studies

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one-smuts · 2 years ago

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You've been a ranch hand with Millies family for years, and are none to pleased when they hired on a new guy for "extra help." even less pleased when he turnes out to be a massive douche bag. an incredibly sexy and charasmastic douche, but a douche none the less. you want him to think that you want nothing to do with him. but the walls at the farm are thin, and you rearely keep track of what your saying when you're in the heat of the moment. that's when the truth of the matter really comes out.

~~~~~~~~

Honestly there is not nearly enough striker smut out there and it is a crime. so let me try to get the ball rollin. reader is Afab and Fem, an imp, and as always, requets are open ;)

"Son of a bitch!!" You yelled as the Hell Hog threw you off. And right as you got an opening too. "I swear to Satan, I will gut you." You growled to yourself as you charged for the animal again. You didn't get very far though. Of course Striker has to show you up, jumping in to "help you out" and slicing the pigs throat easily, stealing your thunder in the process.

"Well that hog was one tough son of a bitch, huh Y/n?" He asked you with his signature mischievous grin. In your mind you always heavily equated him to a con man. He went over to offer you a hand up, but you brushed it away and got up on your own.

"Yea, whatever Striker."

"Well now darlin', you sound pissed! And why's that?" He smirked, cocking his head to the side as if he didn't already know the answer. Ever since Lin and Joe hired him to help around the farm, he'd taken a great pleasure In showing you up whenever he could. Maybe because you were a woman. maybe because he didn't like not being the only farm hand. Maybe it was just because he found you adorable whenever you got angry. Doesn't matter why, really. You just wish he'd knock it the fuck off.

"I had it handled you know." You said, answering his question without answering it.

"Oh, yea. You really had things handled from the ground." He laughed, "really had the upper hand there."

"I only missed my opening because you distracted me!"

"By being so handsome?" He smirked.

"By being so annoying. What were you yellin' about anyway?" You asked.

"I was tryna see if you had the hog slaughtered yet. The answer was no, by the way."

You rolled your eyes as you hoisted the hog onto your shoulder. Being an imp, the damn thing was almost twice your size, and you struggled with its weight. But knowing Striker was just waiting for you to buckle so he could come in and "save your ass" once again gave you the spite needed to haul it into the kitchen.

"Oh, Y/n!" Ms.Lin sighed as she saw you toss dinner onto the counter to be skinned. "Now why in the 7 rings would you carry that in here all by yourself? Wasn't Striker out there to help?"

You sighed and grit your teeth, knowing Ms.Lin met well. You had injured your shoulder a few days back. She just didn't want to lose another hand. "Don't worry Ms.Lin, I'm not made of sugar," You said as you let out a calming breath. "I've carried these fuckers in 1000 times before, I can keep doin it, on my own." You smiled.

She shook her head. "You know, you can accept help, right? It's kinda what we hired him for." Lin said as she crossed her arms and popped her hip.

"Then fire him." You retorted.

"I knew you were gunnin' for my job." Striker laughed as he walked In, "man, you should seen yourself, strugglin' to carry in that piglet." He snickered. "I wish I'd had thought to record it"

"Well, ya didn't scrub." You hoped, "now are you gonna help us skin this thing or what?"

~~~~

“Hey, Y/n? Quick question, what the fuck was that?” Sallie Mae asked you after dinner. You raised an eyebrow as you finished up the dishes and turned to her. “At dinner,” she added for clarification. “What the fuck was that at dinner?” You were still confused.

“What are you-” you started.

“With Striker.” Sallie groaned. Oh, she met THAT.

“That motherfucker kept kicking me under the table!” you burst. “He was tryna get a fucking rise outta me Sallie Mae, and it worked! What kind of elementary school bullshit was that! And then to act shocked when I kicked him back, who the fuck does he think he is?”

“Y'all we’re playin footsie under the table?” Sallie Mae asked as she crossed her arms. She looked unamused.

“What? No!” you protested. “Did ya not hear me Sallie? I said that cocksucker kicked me, it was full blown war under that table!”

“Mmhmm.” Sallie nodded, not very amused. “So you fuck him yet?” She smirked at your shocked face. Maybe you were oblivious to it, hell maybe even Striker was oblivious to it. But everyone else around you two could see a lot of your problems with each other could be solved with a solid hate fuck.

“Sallie Mae, I swear on all that I hold dear, if you were not my best friend, I would feed you to the Hell Hogs right now.” you growled at her, face flushed with either anger or embarrassment. Or, more likely, a mix of both. “Have I fucked him yet,” you scoffed, “Girl, you know I have standards!” you snapped as you walked away from the conversation, tail swishing angrily behind you.

Sallie wasn’t going to let you get away that easy though. She followed you. “Standards, huh?” Sallie laughed, “How’s that been working out for you lately, Ms.Sahara?” she would use your dry spell against you.

“Just fine thank you!” you snapped. “Even if I hadn’t gotten dick in years, I wouldn’t fuck that snake. Motherfucker has gone out of his way since he got here to disrespect me at every turn.”

“Maybe he thinks you have a degradation kink?” your friend offered.

“What the fuck about me screams degradation kink?” you scoffed.

“Your posture.”

“What?”

“People who want respect in bed dont stand like that Shug. everything about you screams ‘call me a slut daddy.’ I thought you knew that.”

You looked at your friend for a long time trying to figure out where she got off reading you like that. “I take offense to that.” you finally said. Sallie smirked.

“You're only offended cause it’s true, huh?”

“Shut up Sallie Mae.” you scoffed as you got to your room. “Look Hun, it’s been a long day, and I’m tired. I’d like to get to sleep.” you told her as you stretched to pop your back.

“Ok, well just answer this for me,” Sallie said, leaning in close to whisper to you. “Honestly, hand to Satan, have you never even thought about it?” She asked. Have you ever thought of it? What a stupid question, of course you had. You weren't too bitter to admit that Striker was an incredibly handsome imp. One that made you blush the first time you laid eyes on him, something not many men could say. Of course you imagined what fucking him would be like. But that was before he revealed himself to be an incredible ass.

“Not even once.” you said.

“Liar.” Sallie called you on your bluff. You rolled your eyes.

“Good night Sallie Mae.” you said as you closed your door in her face. You scoffed as you went over and plopped on your bed. Sallie had a lot of gaul to have that conversation with you. But, She’d had always been like that. It was why you loved her. Still. That bitch had gotten the thought of Striker stuck in your head.

There was no way in Satan's hell he would actually want you, right? If he did, he wouldn't have been such an ass about everything. This isn't middle school, you don't show a girl you like her by pulling her hair. Not that I would particularly mind if he pulled my hair. You thought. Then physically shook your head to get that thought out of it. No! No! Bad Y/n!! You’re only thinking like that cause you’re horny! You mentally chastised yourself.

Fuck, it really had been awhile, huh? A part of you considered dressing up and going out to a bar to try and get out of this dry spell. Then you remembered that you we’re in the Wrath Ring of hell, and that most of the guys here looked like inbred fuckin toads. Not all of em. Striker’s pretty. Fuck, you gotta get laid. Or at least off.

You hopped off your bed and went to your dresser, looking for old reliable. A small bright pink vibrator lovingly named Barbie. You smiled as it whirled to life in your hand. Who needs another imp when you have Barbie? You rid yourself of your torn jeans and got back on your bed, ready to get down to business. Your legs fell apart and you bit your lip as you started teasing your own clit. Involuntarily, an image of Striker entered your head, pinning you to the bed and running his fingers in between your folds. FUCK. This asshole couldnt even let you have your fucking fantasies. Well…fuck it. He’s already here, you already started, and who knows. Maybe it’ll help get him out of your head.

~~~~~

Striker sat on his bed polishing his knife. And no actually, that's not a euphemism. The man was meticulous about weapon care. He heard you and Sallie talking outside of your room, and rolled his eyes to himself. These walls were impossibly thin, and he hated it. Especially having his room right next to yours, it made it hard for him to do any business on the phone. Couldn’t risk it.

He finished cleaning up his knife and put it back in its holster. He checked the time on his phone and considered turning in for the night. Being a farm hand sucked. He was never one for early mornings, but farm work demanded it. It was a not so small part of why he left the wrath ring to become a gun for hire. Murdering people was genuinely easier for him than getting up at 5 AM. He tossed his phone to the side and laid down.

“Striker.”

Then he heard the unmistakable sound of electricity coming from your side of the wall and instantly sat back up. No fuckig way. He’d been working on this farm for weeks now and had never heard this before. He was starting to think you were a prude. He laughed softly to himself. This was gonna be great ammo against you tomorrow. There was one highlight to being a farm hand, and that was getting to fuck with you every day. You were adorable when you got mad, and it was so easy to rile you up. He quickly decided if he couldn’t fuck you, he would just fuck with you and be content with that.

That caught his fucking attention. The last thing he expected to hear from the otherside of the wall was his name. He didn’t expect the effect it had on him either. Something about the way you sounded so desperate for him made his heart race and his dick ache.

“Striker..Striker please-”

Thank fucking Satan for thin and sin walls. Striker made a mental note to personally thank the king of hell for them. He could hear you so clearly, and yet he still found himself pressed against the wall to hear you better. His hand moved to the crotch of his pants. He plamed himself through the fabric to ease some of the pain. “Fuck darlin’” he groaned out, voice just above a whisper. He didn’t realize just how bad he wanted to fuck you until now.

“St-Striker, fuck me! Please! Fuck me-” you moaned breathlessley through the wall. That was in invitation if Striker had ever heard one.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Striker laughed as he made his way to your room. The panicked ‘meep!” he heard as he left confirmed to him that you did indeed hear him. He’d never been more thankful to share a wall with someone. He got to your door and knocked, then turned the knob experimentally. It was locked. You really were inviting him in, huh? He slipped through the door and could help but smile at the scene before him.

You were glowing with blush, blanket thrown haphazardly between your legs to give yourself some sense of modesty. A hot pink vibrator, slick and abandoned, at the foot of the bed. You were looking at him, but couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with him. “Ya know darling,” Stiker said as he approached your bed. There was something dark in his eyes, “If you wanted me that bad you could have just asked. But I do appreciate the show ya just put on for me.” he chuckled.

“Why were you listening to me, you creep!” you lashed out in anger, trying to turn this on him and away from you. He didn’t take the bait. He laughed as he caged you into your bed, face just centimeters away from your own.

“It’s kinda hard not to when the whole farm can hear you begging me to fuck you darlin.” he chuckled softly as he ran a hand down your side. It sent shivers down your spine. “Now, the real question is; didja mean it? Or are you just the biggest tease in this ring of hell?” he asked, causing your face to heat up even more with desire.

“I meant it.” you said before your brain could stop you. Fuck it, maybe Sallie Mae was right. Strikers wicked grin alone could almost convince you of that. Stiker grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.

“Good girl.” he said as he pushed his lips into yours. He tasted like coffee and nicotine. You shyly moved your hands to wrap them around his neck. He crawled onto the bed on top of you, finally releasing you of your kiss. His hands ran down to the hem of your shirt. “You got no idea how many nights I imagined doing this.” he rasped, taking your shirt off of you. His smirk only grew. “Black lace, huh? you really are a whore, aren't ya doll?” He tisked as he easily unclasped your bra and threw it to the floor. “They’re prettier than I imagined.” he praised as he ran his thumb over your hardening nipple.

“Are you going to shut up at any point in this?” you scoffed, finding yourself again as you pushed his jacket off his shoulders. You could feel his sculpted chest under his thin shirt and it excited you more than you wanted to admit.

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it darlin’.” He grinned. He let you unbutton his vest and rid him of both it and his shirt.

“Mother fucker.” you whispered as you ran your hand along his toned chest. It was covered in scars, both healed and not so healed. You wanted to know the story behind every single one.

“Like what you see?” He asked. You could hear his tail rattling in anticipation. He was more excited for your approval than he was letting on,

“Very much so.” you smiled, finally finding the courage to look into his yellow green hypnotic eyes.

“Right answer.” he chuckled as his hand moved down your body. You tensed instinctively as he reached your cunt. “Fuck Darlin’, I knew you’d be wet, but i wasn’t expecting this wet.” he purred as his fingers ran across your folds. “All this for me?” He teased, fingers finding your clit with the quickness of an expert. You sheepishly nodded as you realized he’d definitely done this more than you had. “I knew you wanted me.” he said smugly as he began to rub circles into your clit, sending electricity soaring through your body.

“Ya like that, Slut?” the cowboy asked you. You nodded in response, focused on the pleasure he was giving you. Until he suddenly stopped.

“Striker!”

“Use your words Doll.” he warned.

“Yes, I liked it! I liked it so much, I kinda wanna punch you for stopping!” you hissed. Striker launched and continued his movements, much to your relief.

“And that's why you're my favorite.” he purred at you. His thumb had taken over rubbing your clit as his fingers began to work your pussy open. “Even when you’re the one in a compromised position, you never lose your fight.” It suddenly struck him that that was a little too intimate than he wanted to get at that moment. So he switched gears and fully pulled you under him. You gasped as you looked up at him. He was only on his knees on top of you, but he still seemed so much taller. It occurred to you just how much bigger than you he was.

“Ya know darlin’,” he stared as he leaned down to kiss your neck, “Ever since I laid eyes on you,” he began to trail kisses down your body. Your neck, your collar bone. Littering marks down your body, “I’ve wanted to know how you taste.” he groaned as he made it to his destination. Your body was on fire with anticipation. He spread your legs for him and let out a low whistle. “Never thought I’d see a cunt as pretty as yours.” he admitted as he kissed the inside of your thighs. He bit gently, sucking marks into your soft skin. He wanted whoever may be here next to know you were his first. Finally, he made his way to where you desperately wanted him most. He smirked at you one last time before licking at your clit.

Your whole body jolted at his touch, as if it was made to react to him and only him. He sucked at your clit as his fingers began to work you open. “Fuck Striker, how dare you be this good at head.” you groaned as your hands knocked his hat off and tangled into his hair. You could hear him laugh from in between your legs, but didn't really care. His fingers began to massage you from inside, quickly finding the spot that would surely make you see stars. “Fuck!” you gasped as your back arched and your legs tried to clamp around his head. Striker would be the one man you’d been with able to find the G-Spot.

He used his free hand to keep your legs open. “Careful now Sweetheart. You wouldn't want me to stop now would ya?” He asked in the most condescending tone you’d ever heard.

“Fuck, no! No, you asshole, don't stop.” you almost screamed when his fingers stopped moving. “You bitch! What the fuck did I just fucking say?!” you all but yelled at him.

“Say it nicely.” he grinned at you.

“Fuck you.”

“I know you want to Doll.”

“I'm going to kick you.”

“I’ll leave,” he threatened.

“Fuck no!” well that was more desperate than you wanted it to be. “No no! Don't leave! Just…Fuck, please don’t stop Sir! Please, I need you.” you moaned. You almost cried when not only did his fingers start going again, but he added a third.

“Good girl.” he praised, his head dipping back in between your legs. He began sucking harshly at your clit, massaging it with his tongue and tying the knot in your stomach tighter and tighter. Your hands found their way to his hair again, and you found yourself bucking into his face. You felt your body tense and your pussy flutter.

“Striker, I’m Close.”

“I know.” he muttered from between your legs.

“How?!”

“You’re not exactly hiding it sweetheart.” he laughed, picking up the pace ever so slightly, forcing you to forget the argument at hand as your vision exploded with stars and electricity ran through your body. “Fuck, fuckfuckfuck fuck!!” you yelled, your legs closing around his head and your hands pulling him closer. Striker realized he couldn't breathe, and decided that yes. This was how he wanted to die. With his fingers working you through your orgasam as he lapped up as much of you as he could. “Dear fucking Satan.” you moaned as you released the cowboy. Your legs still shook with the aftershock of your orgasam. It had been awhile since you had sex, yea. But it had been even longer since someone made you feel like that.

Striker smiled as he wiped his mouth and sat back up. “Feel good Sweetheart?” he purred to you. You nodded blissfully. He smiled and gently tucked a strand of your hair back. You nodded, your brain still unable to form words. “That's great Doll. We’re not done yet.” he informed you. “Good.” you chuckled, causing him to smile. You watched as he freed himself from his jeans, and couldn't help the blush that formed on your face. Of course, it wasn’t enough for him to just have a pretty face. Oh no, he had to have a pretty dick too.

“Fuck man, how’s it feel to be Satans favorite?” you huffed.

“Isn’t that more of a question for yourself, Gorgeous?” Striker asked as he pumped his dick a few times. He bit his lip as he looked down at your body. He wanted to remember every curve you had. Every scar, stretch mark, birthmark, everything. He wanted to own it. He wanted to own you. He dug his teeth into your neck as he began to push himself into your cunt. You screamed, the mix of pleasure and pain taking over your body as he sunk into your still sensitive cunt. You could feel him sucking a mark into your neck. You knew there would be questions in the morning. You didn’t care.

“Striker, God damn. You’re too fucking much.” you groaned, trying to turn your head to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“You feel so fucking good Y/n.” he breathed to you. “Like you were fucking made for me. Made to be a sleeve for my cock, made to be mine.” he growled. Fuck that alone send ice down your spine. You were not prepared for him to start moving, pumping into you like he was on a mission. He set a brutal pace. Your legs wrapped around his hips to keep up. You clawed into his back, determined to leave marks of your own on him. It was only fair.

His tail tangled with yours as his hand tangled into your hair. “I’ve been waiting for this for way too long” he huffed, “Do you know how many times I thought about bending you over and putting you in your fucking place? Shit darlin’ if i knew it would be this good i would have done it sooner.” he repositioned himself to stroke at the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you. It was too much.

You groaned and bit the fuck out his his shoulder, causing him to help, then laugh, but never falter in his thrusts. He was a professional after all. He pulled your hair, forcing you to release him. “Fuck darlin, we bitin’ now?” he laughed, as if he did not just leave a very prominent mark on your neck. “I-it’s only f-fair!” you argused, struggling to make coherent thoughts. He smiled almost softly and tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck to you. “If ya gonna leave a mark on me, might as well go big or go home.” he challenged. He desperately wanted everyone to know what happened tonight. And while the thin walls would assure that for the people that lived on the farm, he wanted the entirety of hell to know.

And you were far too cock drunk to think of the consequences. You buried your fangs into his neck, savoring the hiss of pain he let out. He tugged gently at your hair one last time, before using that hand for support instead, and using his now freed hand to rub almost violent circles into your clit. You let out a high pitched and breathy moan into his neck. He could feel your pussy flutter around him, a clear sign you were close.

“Fuck, you gonna come for me twice Darlin?” he groaned. As if on cue the knot inside your stomach snapped in two and you screamed into his neck, your legs clamping around him as your body spasmed with the heat of your second orgasam for the night. And shit, you we’re fucking gorguous. “Y/n, I’m close,” Striker warned as he realized you we’re not letting him go. “Y/n, let go, I-”

“Cum in me.” you moaned. He did not need to be told twice. He picked up his pace, pounding into your spent pussy before his own orgasam finally overtook him. He rode out his orgasam, shooting red hot cum into your cervix. His best move? Definitely not. But that was a problem for tomorrow Stiker and Y/n. Tonight Striker and Y/n couldn't get over how hot the whole ordeal was. Finally he slowed to a stop. He lightly tapped your thigh and you finally let your legs fall to the bed.

“Shit Darlin’ I knew you’d be good, but..fuck.” Striker laughed, causing you to swell with pride for being the reason he had that reaction. He pulled out, leaving you feeling more empty than you expected.

“You’re a good lay.” you laughed as he rolled over next to you.

“Why thank ya,” he laughed with you instead of at you for once. He pulled you into his arms, and you didn’t protest. He was warm. “So do we go back to hating each other in the mornin’, or?..” he asked, rubbing gentle circles into your hips.

“In the mornin’? Yes. buut I wouldn’t be against this happening again, so I guess we can like each other at night.” you giggled. He chuckled and nodded.

“Alright, I can get behind that. It’s a start.” he nodded, snuggling up to you. You hadn’t kicked him out of bed yet, might as well enjoy it. Suddenly, there was a loud knock at your door, causing you both to panic.

“So Y'all are done feudin’ now, right?” Sallie Mae’s almost jovial voice came from the other side.

“SALLIE I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!” you yelled from your bed as Striker laughed his ass off next to you.

#striker helluva boss #striker x oc #striker x reader #striker x reader smut #striker smut #helluva boss #degrade kink #top striker #slight romance #voyuerism #if ya squint #norman reedus #enemies to lovers

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bengiyo · 2 years ago

Text

Love In The Air Ep 5 Stray Thoughts

I'm curious where we go now that they're together. As others have pointed out, this is more of a character story than a plot one. I suppose it's the racing scene?

Also, let's hope the sub timing is fixed.

Okay, this birds track in the background is loud to the point of distraction. I can't even enjoy the post-coital, morning-after bliss because I just wish the birds would shut up. Did their sex inspire the nearby birds into a mating frenzy?

Payu's hair is down. A win for the girlies.

Lol, Rain, please don't joke with your mom about "hard" things.

Jesus Christ, the birds are still going.

Well, they let Noeul's lips dry out again...

You know Payu is gonna come looking for Rain if he doesn't answer.

Lol, next scene. I do love when shows do that. And now Rain didn't get to control how Payu met his mom.

Oh my god. There are birds outside this location, too? I see there will be no peace this episode.

Does Noeul seem like he tanned more in this episode or is it just me??

You know, I think rectal suppositories as a punishment and way to show that you care is a new one for me in BL, so congrats to MAME I guess?

"My son's not that good of a kid, but since you said so I'll believe you," is very much a mom sentence.

Ah good, Prapai and Sky are getting started.

I agree with Rain. Hit him with a pillow for all the dramatics.

As great as the chemistry between Boss and Noeul is, I don't think Payu should be kissing the sick man.

Alright, Thai linguistics fans, your time has come. I ask for analysis and clarification about the implied choice between becoming Payu's wife or having Payu as his husband. I feel like there are nuances I'm missing here beyond Payu's sincere commitment.

Payu's promise not to let anyone bully Rain is better than a certain other character that shall not be named.

I wasn't sure about them at first, but these two have grown on me. Good chemistry will do that. These are some of the better kissers we've seen out or Thailand.

Rain and Sky continue to have a fun friendship to watch. Glad Thailand's also stepping up its game here.

Ple having a crush on Payu is so embarrassing for Rain. Oh lord, and now Som also likes him? Good luck, baby boy

Man, the DP did a great job on this shot. This is consistently a gorgeous show to watch, and I don't often get to say that about Thai BL.

Noeul is genuinely funny. That is also a surprising treat of this show.

Payu and Rain's dynamic feels like it's stabilizing enjoyably.

"What if I become spoiled?" "Then I'll be the one to straighten you out." Sir!

Oh, Sky, I'm glad you're here.

I wonder if they're at the same restaurant as the beginning of Cutie Pie.

I love Sky. I will watch the rest of this show because of him.

I also like when lovers don't become jealous of friends, and instead see them as allies. GG, Payu. Of course Sky would join in on teasing Rain.

Ah, and here's the race drama.

Amazing. Rain says a series of endearing things and assures Payu of his commitment, and his immediate response is to warn Rain's mom that he won't be home tonight.

Every time someone uses these stairs in BL I am sure it's going to end tragically.

Oh lord he done put him on the counter. The girlies are in danger.

Saifah, whose side are you on? Can't you tell Payu doesn't want Pakin to see Rain?

Well, I suppose next week should be dramatic now that we're at a race where loved ones can be gambled??

#love in the air #thai bl #bl series #Ben watches

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finna-liveblog · 2 years ago

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Did Wes Come back??? I stopped watching htgawm After his death

Oh boo so did I, but luckily for you I've never not been obsessed with my baby Wes Gibbons so I can in fact answer this, only not in a satisfying way ☹️

As far as I can tell, Wes is still dead at the end of the show. A flash forward showed Alfie walking into a room (or sum) and of course everyone freaked out because Wes is back with a new haircut and everything. But as it turns out, this was a misdirect. With more clarification on the scene later on, that was actually Christopher the grown up version of Wes and Laurel's son and he looks exactly like his father.

I never actually watched any of the scenes so I might have some details wrong but that's generally the idea.

I remember being super irritated when I found this out. I had already lost interest in the show for the most part years ago after he died so I wasn't super invested but I was still peeved. It was part of why I stopped watching anyway. Not just because Wes died but because they clearly didn't care about the fans that loved and cared about Wes. I always felt like they prioritized the shock and moment of devastation than the character as well as the people who cared about the character. We followed this character and were invested in him from the start and they just said fuck you and killed him for shock value? That tells me you don't care, and killing a character is my LEAST favorite way of shocking an audience and causing emotion. After seasons of doing it the right ways, this one felt cheap and unnecessary and heartbreaking to those who actually cared about him. Not only did Wes deserve better but the show did too, do that kinda dumb shit in the 100, not here.

And then on top of that, you play with people again by pretend bringing back that very same character, getting people invested again just to let them down again. Like... Okay fuck us ig. Cause there was no reason at all for y'all to bring Alfie back and let people believe for a moment that Wes could have still been alive this whole time other than "we're gonna really fuck with people"

At the end of the day he's just a character and it's just a show and the writers have the right to do whatever they want. But considering how big the show was and how much people talked about it and how furious people were when Wes died and how many people stopped watching and how it just kinda lost a bit of that shine that was there in the beginning, I wonder was it worth it? I mean really, was the bit worth it? Cause I don't think it was

Sorry to ramble. I clearly have a lot of feelings about this still

#also I'm a writer so I'm not even just viewing this as a viewer who loved Wes #I'm literally looking at the story like was it necessary to kill him #or did you just wanna shock everyone #it was cheap 🤷🏾‍♀️#and to me brought down the writing of what i remember to be a brilliantly written show #characters die all the time but imagine following Harry Potter #for like 3 or 4 years and then they kill him in book 4 #and other than mourning him everyone just moves on #lol guys turns out he wasn't important and his story is done #like even if he's not your favorite you're kinda like well what the fuck we're the first three books about #why did i bother caring #and why do i bother caring about anyone else #just because it's a shock? it's stupid #look at me still ranting #I'm done now #HTGAWM #how to get away with murder #wes gibbins

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steveyockey · 4 years ago

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do you think that -- if they WERE planning to do gay angel press initially -- part of the reason they didn't might have been the (reactionary) bury your gays backlash from fans and non-fans? in which case. twitter rly does ruin everything. :/

I’m not tied to this but here’s a hypothetical to work through that at least provides a theory on the lack of gay angel press (probably not very different from any other theory on this website but just writing it out for continuity),

okay. pre-pandemic. the arc of the final few episodes seems to have been set and 15.18 was the last piece, pending jensen’s approval. roadhouse heaven ending was a go — presumably featuring a cas cameo among other various and sundry friends. approving 15.18 introduces a problem by way of the fact that cas has just confessed his undying love for dean and there’s an expected response. but it’s fine! you don’t actually need that, you’ve been baiting fans for a decade, you can work your magic one more time with a lil wink and nudge and never have to deal with that again. ambiguous “to each his own” ending, you talk up the gay angel on one side and the bronly-ness of the last hunt on the other; everyone walks away happy. you have successfully threaded the needle of finishing off a twelve year queerbait without “caving to the fans,” high fives all around.

15.18 gets filmed. the angel is gay gay. the footage is. we don’t know what the footage looks like. there could be anything. maybe there’s a kiss with tongue. ends up not really mattering because the pandemic happens and they have to stop shooting and stop airing. no idea how much changes in 15.19 (clearly SOME stuff considering we know the folks who got chuck snapped in the silo were supposed to be shown back in the flesh and that got cut). 15.20 has to change — so roadhouse heaven becomes three person heaven (plus the cast and crew, who were already on set so no, this is not proof they could have brought a crowd of actors anyway, it’s just. weird. I don’t like this decision. strikes me as authoritative like WE told the story not YOU. anyway). putting cas in three person heaven makes winking and nudging a lot harder to do and would make the absence of an actual substantive response to the confession uhhhh very obvious. so you have to cut cas. and then maybe you have to cut other references to cas in 15.19, maybe you cut some emotionality from dean’s side in 15.18, maybe you straight up insert the moment in 15.20 where dean tells sam to stop being an eeyore about cas’s death! we don’t know how much was changed, but there was at least the opportunity at this point to dull dean’s response to the whole thing so the absence of cas in heaven is more palatable. it’s the bronly ending, but you already gave the audience the gay angel. and the gay angel is alive and building heaven with his son! no more cashing in on the queerbait but still cashing in on canon gay.

it’s november 5th. 15.18 airs. it trends higher than the biggest election “of our lives.” holy shit! gay angel! but of course the issue is the people responding aren’t the people who have been watching the show. they don’t have context for what’s going on and “turbohell” catches on. fuck. did you kill the gay angel? of course not, he’s in heaven with his son! lisa berry can post her goodbye instagram to her character because obviously billie’s dead, she’s the villain. she’s not expected to come back. but cas is... cas is different. and he’s not dead and you won’t be taking any questions on this until we get to the end, when everyone can settle down. so you have your actors gush about the episode, you leave everyone on pins and needles so they’ll come back for two more, and then! well. 15.20. cas is “alive” technically. dean is dead, as you always planned. some people are happy, some people are middling, and some people are fucking pissed at you because apparently by not outright killing off the gay angel you promised them the gay angel was coming back. any clarification you would offer here would unspool your entire plan — gay angel on one side, brothers on the other. erasing cas isn’t the same as killing him, but you can’t say that (though misha basically did in response to the rogue translator shenanigans). killing dean wasn’t even supposed to be about cas, but now everything is about cas. you took him out of the story completely and he’s still managed to take over. and all you can say is, well, it’s always been a story about brothers.

this obviously doesn’t account for everything, such as what the fuck was uriel’s actor doing? why the fuck did the show actually give us the instructions for how to get someone out of the empty and not do it? and there’s an infinite number of things that could have happened that I would simply never guess not knowing specific onset dynamics and money decisions. whatever happened that caused this clusterfuck really does suck for everyone in that writers room who was on team gay angel because, as I have said in the past, 15.18 only works due to at least four years, if not seven or more, of consciously writing the angel as gay. I hope bobo and yockey and even misha feel personal satisfaction at a job well done, but god if a single fucking interview could at least let us indulge in the victory with them. anyway, all of this is to say, yes I do think the bury-your-gays of it all definitely plays into it (and I would say, again, linking this to it chapter 2, it’s significant muschietti and co decided to make richie gay over eddie; people who haven’t read the book might not know that eddie like. literally drinks mineral water. in the 80s. he wears gucci loafers. he marries a carbon copy of his mother. stephen king would never admit to writing a gay man but that was a gay man. but eddie dies! eddie always dies. so they had some good sense in giving the gay story to the one who lives and leaving the dead one holding all the coding). and I definitely think randos on twitter making fun of the confession did not help matters. but I also think the decision to pull press cannot be extricated from the rubble of the last two episodes and everything they promised but never delivered. literally a single second of cas in the finale would have been their golden ticket! that’s far more than what jj did for star wars! but they got played at their own game by, of all things, an international pandemic. somehow a very supernatural ending after all.

#anon #answered #did I answer the question? you decide!#spn

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tinysushimark · 3 years ago

Text

Best Part (MK)

Fluff, 1.3k words

"You were cute." You giggled as you turned the page to the album.

"What do you mean were?" Mark scoffed at you. "You're hot now."

You giggled, a small blush spread across his face and he looked away. "Don't say that." He said and took out another photo album from the drawer near his bedside.

You looked through his baby pictures and smiled. "Your brother was cute too." You said cooing at the pictures. "I definitely would've played with you if i met you as a baby."

"You're younger than me though." Mark looked at you, eyes wide. "Can you just let me have it?" He nodded his head and stared down at the pictures too.

"This one is my first day at kindergarten, and this is my first time at church." Mark pointed at pictures and smiled.

The first time you had visited Canada two years ago, he didn't let you meet his parents. He was with you the entire time and he took you out to see tourist spots in Vancouver. You thought he wasn't ready to tell his parents about your Relationship, so you didn't push it either, he'd take you to them when he wanted to, willingly.

This time round he was totally different when he got to know that you'll go to Vancouver. He was excited because even he had gotten a break and he really wanted to see his parents.

"My mom makes the best food." His eyes sparkled when he told you about his childhood bedroom, the church he used to visit, the small vegetable garden his mom had behind the kitchen and many more things that you could listen to for hours. He talked about his childhood for the first time in the so many years that you had known him. Of course you knew the basics of his childhood, where he grew up, small anecdotes which he'd tell you time to time, but he had never spoken about how he grew up in such detail before.

He was telling you about the first time he read a verse in church and then stopped in between, "It's boring, isn't it?"

"No baby, it's interesting." He looked into your eyes again for clarification. "All Passengers boarding to Vancouver, Boarding starts." The voice boomed through the speaker and Mark looked at you, "Then i fell from the stairs while walking down after reading it."

You laughed in his face, "You what?"

"Yeah, i fell." He said and laughed with you.

You laid down on his childhood bed, soaking all the wood in, his family was probably obsessed with wood, there was a wooden flooring and even the wall against Mark's bed somehow seemed to be made out of wood.

"What are you looking at?" Mark laid down next to you.

"You have those little glowy things on the roof." You said pointing to the roof, "You can't sleep with pillows, but there's a bunch of pillows." You said pulling the pillow he had under his head to yourself.

"There's a lot of wood in your home." You turned to him and he shrugged.

"Dad likes wood works."

You nodded slowly, letting it all sink in.

"You grew up here?"

"Uh huh."

"What's your mom making?"

"I dont really know, probably all my favourites."

He smiled at you.

"Mark, what if your mom hates me already?"

"You just said hi and i took you upstairs to see my room, what is there to hate?"

A sigh escaped your lips, you knew you were overthinking, Mark's mom was pretty welcoming and she had smiled at you a very warm smile, asking how the flight was and then going on about how much she hates the turbulence before telling Mark to show you around.

"The fact that i stole her son even though he's always with me anyways?"

Mark sighed, "I'm here for another month. Plus i told her a lot about you."

"I think we should help her in the kitchen." You sat up and looked at him, his face scrunched.

"She doesn't like anyone in her kitchen, just like you. Here, look at my baby pictures." Mark handed you the album which was placed on his bedside.

"What did you want to do when you came back to your childhood bedroom?" You asked him, he was still looking down at the album and he smiled ear to ear at a picture before he processed what you asked.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Like, something you wanna show me here or something you wanna do?"

"I wanna make out with you in my childhood bedroom." He said eyes boring into yours and unwilling you slapped him. "You dirty minded boy. Your parents are downstairs and i can see the cross to your childhood church from here." You snickered at him and a smirk broke across his face. "I wasn't joking."

"Yeah, shut up."

"Ok but in all seriousness, i want you to see this." He went inside his closet and got a guitar case and your eyes sparkled, "Is this your first guitar?"

"Yes." He pulled it out of it's cover and placed it own his lap, the strings seemed like they had been changed recently and he smiled, "Mom takes care of my guitar." He played some chords and then played a song you both sung together.

click here💖 💫

You don't know, babe

When you hold me

And kiss me slowly

It's the sweetest thing

And it don't change

If I had it my way

You would know that you are

You sung, your eyes closing, the guitar was definitely old. You could feel it's age through the way its tune came out so raw and clear. It moulded into his arms like the guitar was made just for him to hold and you couldn't help but smile when he sang with you. His eyes were closed too, letting himself get lost in the music.

You're my water when I'm stuck in the desert

You're the Tylenol I take when my head hurts

You're the sunshine on my life

I just wanna see how beautiful you are

You know that I see it

I know you're a star

Where you go I follow

No matter how far

If life is a movie

Then you're the best part, oh oh oh

You're the best part, oh oh oh

Best part

You both were so lost in the tunes that you didn't notice when Mark's mom came and leaned against the door frame watching you two sing. When the song ended Mark's eyes searched for yours. "I love you." He said staring deeply into your eyes.

"I love you too." You smiled at him. He meant it, everytime he said it, he meant it and more so from the last time he uttered those words.

You were reassured that he loves you everytime he said he loves you, a satisfaction spread across your chest, knowing that he'll fight for you and your happiness. His smiles healed you through and through, and you could watch his eyes crinkle and sparkle each day and you'd still be as fond as you were the moment your eyes fell upon him.

His mother coughed to make her presence known. She walked in slowly, hands wiping at her apron, she sat down on Mark's bed and smiled. You could see where he got his infamous smile from.

"I see you've found your guitar." Mark nodded and smiled back at her.

"That was beautiful, i didn't want you two to stop but lunch is ready."

When Mark's mom asked him to go ahead and set the plates, Mark couldnt say no. She sat where Mark first sat and her hands slowly held yours.

"I believe I can trust only you with my boy's heart." She smiled at you and caressed your hand.

"I've never heard him sing in such a beautiful harmony before."

Her smile grew wider and she caressed your cheek. "You've been in this house for one hour and I have already seen my son smile the most he has in the past 5 years."

"Welcome to the family." She smiled and held your hand leading you down to the kitchen.

Read More: Masterlist

look at this picture of mark when he was a baby ㅠ.ㅠ

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arc852 · 3 years ago

Text

A Companion for Loneliness 1/2

Summary: Tommy is lonely, so Phil takes the advice of Tommy’s therapist and gets him a pet.

Warnings: Dehuminization (treating people like pets)

Word Count: 2234

__________________________________________________________

Phil hung up the phone and let out a long sigh, hanging his head. The call from his boss, about having to work longer hours, was a good thing money wise. Especially since his boss guaranteed he’d be paid overtime for the longer hours. What it wasn’t good for was his son.

Now Tommy was old enough to take care of himself. The fifteen year old reminded him of that everyday, calling himself a big man and other such similar things. But, though Tommy didn’t admit it, Phil knew that he got lonely when Phil was out all day and night at his job. And especially now that it was summer, Tommy no longer had school to distract him from that loneliness.

Phil was hoping to spend more time with Tommy during the summer but with his increase in hours, that wasn’t going to be possible. It wouldn’t be so bad if Tommy had friends to hang out with but…

Of course, that wasn’t Tommy’s fault. But it made Phil feel even worse about not being able to be there for his son.

His phone rang again, pulling Phil out of his thoughts. He glanced at the caller ID before answering it. “Hey Puffy,” Tommy’s therapist was a wonderful young woman and had helped Tommy a lot. Tommy didn’t see her as often anymore but Puffy always made sure to call every once in a while to see how things were going. Phil appreciated it and he knew Tommy did too.

“Hey Mr. Minecraft! Just checking in. How is Tommy doing? Summer should be starting soon, right?” Puffy asked, cheerful as always.

“Yeah, it just started actually. And Tommy’s...good.” The silence he received made Phil wince.

“And how is Tommy actually doing?” Puffy asked, tone softer this time. Phil sighed. He really couldn’t get anything past Puffy. Not that he was really trying to but still.

“He is doing well at the moment but I just received some news from my work. I...They need me to put in extra hours. The money will be great for us but--” He was cut off.

“But Tommy will be left all alone.”

Phil shut his eyes, using his free hand to rub at them. “Yeah. For the most part. And I hate doing that to him but there really isn’t anything I can do about it.”

“...Have you thought about getting Tommy a pet?” Puffy said suddenly and Phil opened his eyes again, blinking.

“A pet?”

“Yeah, ya know, a companion to keep Tommy company and distracted while you're gone. Pets are wonderful for that sort of thing.” Puffy explained. Phil had never thought about that before, mostly because he never really cared for having a pet in the first place. But if it was to help Tommy…

“So, should I get him a dog? Or would a cat be better? A hamster?” What pet would be best for Tommy?

“Actually, for Tommy, I was thinking more along the lines of a borrower.”

“A borrower?” Phil didn’t pay much attention to things happening around the world but even he had heard about the discovery of borrowers several years ago. They were huge back then but the hype had died down over the years. They were still fairly popular but the novelty had long since worn off. “Why a borrower for Tommy?”

“Well, unlike other pets, they can actually have conversations with us.” Puffy said and, well, she had a really good point there. “It might be good for Tommy to be able to talk with someone. My nephew recently got his own pet borrower and he loves him and my son has had one for years. They make great companions, in ways a dog or cat can’t be. I think one would be perfect for Tommy.”

Phil had been nodding along, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. It really did sound perfect. A pet that would not only distract Tommy but one he could also speak to and hang out with.

“I think I’ll take you up on your advice Puffy, thank you so much.” Phil could hear the smile on Puffy’s face as he spoke back.

“That’s what I’m here for! Literally. Anyway, let me know how it goes and I wish you luck in picking one out for Tommy. Oh and I would stick to males when picking out a borrower and either around Tommy’s age or a bit older. It’ll hopefully make it easier for Tommy to connect with a borrower like that.”

Phil nodded despite knowing Puffy couldn’t see him. “Thank you Puffy. Talk to you later.”

“Bye Mr. Minecraft!” And with that, Puffy hung up. Phil placed his phone down on his desk, feeling better about the whole situation. He glanced at the time and went to grab his keys.

He started working again tomorrow, so he might as well go out and get Tommy that borrower while he could.

***

Phil entered the pet store, looking around to try and see where they kept their borrowers. He must have looked as lost as he felt though, as an employee came up to him with a smile on her face. Her name tag read Niki.

“Hello sir, is there anything I could help you with today?” Her voice was cheerful and authentic. It made Phil smile.

“Yes, actually. Um, I’m here to buy my fifteen year old son a borrower.” Phil said and he almost missed the way Niki shifted and tensed up slightly at the mention of a borrower. But as quickly as it came it went and Niki was back to her relaxed self. Phil must have imagined it.

“Of course! Right this way, I’ll show you our selection of borrowers.” Niki started walking towards the back of the store and Phil followed, looking down the aisles as they passed them. Finally, Niki turned into one and Phil followed, seeing the rows of cages filled with borrowers. Though, there weren't as many as Phil would have first thought.

“Our selection in this store is a little small but you should be able to find one here.” Niki said with a smile. Phil glanced around at the cages, biting his lip at all the choices. How was he supposed to pick?

“You said this was for your son, right?” Niki chimed in again and Phil’s gaze landed back on her as he nodded.

“Yeah, my job is keeping me extra long this summer and my son...doesn’t really have any friends. He gets lonely, though he won’t admit it, and I feel bad for leaving him. His therapist is the one who suggested I get him a borrower, actually.” Phil explained.

“I see.” Niki hummed. Phil noticed how her gaze had softened though it was weird considering Phil hadn’t noticed her tense before. “Well, I have to go back to the front but there are a few borrowers in that last cage at the end of the aisle that might catch your eye.” She pointed at said cage, gave Phil a smile and then walked past him to head back up to the front.

Phil watched her go and then turned back towards the cage she had pointed at. He headed over that way, glancing into the cage once he came upon it. There were about five in this one cage and Phil looked them all over. A couple seemed to simply ignore him, while one seemed to try and make itself smaller and another refused to even look at him.

The fifth one though, was actually actively glaring at him.

Phil blinked, meeting that one's gaze. It was hard to make out the finer details of his face from the corner he was sitting in but he was clearly tall for a borrower, or at least, compared to the others in the cage with him, and his hair sat in a similar way to Tommy’s but was brown instead of blond.

In fact, though Phil couldn’t quite place why, this borrower reminded him a lot of Tommy right off the bat. Maybe it was the fire behind that glare or even just the hair, but it was there and Phil couldn’t ignore it.

“Hello mate,” He said in greeting, smiling softly and ignoring the glare. The borrower jumped slightly but his glare only hardened. “What’s your name?”

“F*** off.” The borrower spat out and Phil’s eyes widened. He was reminded of Tommy more by the second.

Well, that had been easier than Phil thought.

He stood up straight and walked away, ignoring the confused look the borrower had sent him. When he came back with Niki, the borrower’s eyes widened and he hurried to a stand. “Oh f*** no.”

“I had a feeling you’d take a liking to Wilbur.” Niki said with a smile towards Phil.

“Wilbur?” Phil asked for clarification and Niki nodded.

“That’s his name. Wilbur Soot, 22 years old. He was caught and brought into this pet store around 6 months ago.” Niki explained and then turned her attention to said borrower. “Hey Wilbur, it looks like today is the day.”

Wilbur shook his head, looking panicked. “N-No! What the hell, Niki?!”

Phil glanced between the two, confused. Niki let out a little sigh and sent a sad smile towards Phil. “Sorry, he’s just nervous.” She turned back to Wilbur. “Trust me Wil, this will be good for you.” Phil watched as she reached in and wrapped her hand around the borrower. Said borrower squirmed and tried to fight his way out of the grip but it proved fruitless. Niki brought him out of the large cage, only to place him into the smaller one she had brought with her from the front.

Once he was locked inside, he was handed over to Phil. “Alright, let’s go and get the payment all settled.” Niki said and Phil nodded, following her once again back towards the front. He handed his card over once Niki took to the register and Niki started the payment process.

“Were you getting anything else today?” Niki asked, she was still smiling but it was a little less wide than before. Phil blinked at the question, glancing down at the borrower in the small cage. He was still being glared at but now the little guy was curled in on himself near the center of the cage.

“Um...should I be getting something else? Sorry, this was sort of a last minute thing. What exactly do borrowers need?” Phil asked, feeling sheepish at his lack of knowledge. Thankfully, Niki’s understanding gaze made him feel better.

“Well, honestly, they don’t need a lot. Or, at least, they don’t need a lot of things that you need to buy. They eat human food just fine, so no need to waste money on that. I would recommend a borrower bed for him to sleep in though. And a collar for if he gets lost but those aren’t required.” Niki explained and Phil nodded along.

“That sounds good. Could you throw in a borrower bed and I’ll go ahead and take the collar too.” Phil said and Niki nodded, fetching the items and placing them in a small bag. She then rang up the order and Phil was hesitant to see the price. But when it appeared on screen his eyes widened. It wasn’t nearly as much as he would have thought.

“Here you go.” She handed over the bag, which Phil took and picked back up the cage that he had placed on the counter.

“Thank you so much for your help.” Phil said and Niki grinned.

“Of course, if you need anything again, I’m happy to help!” They waved goodbye and then Phil was out the door.

He got into his car but hesitated placing Wilbur down into the front seat. He looked down at the borrower, noticing how the little guy hadn’t moved much from his earlier position but now he seemed to be refusing to look at him. He looked sad and it made Phil’s heart melt just a little bit.

“Hey mate,” He spoke and Wilbur’s head snapped up to look at him. The glare was back but it was less intense this time, another emotion that Phil couldn’t quite pinpoint getting in the way of the heat. “Just thought I should explain. I’m getting you for my son, Tommy. He’s fifteen and doesn’t have any friends. His therapist suggested I get him a borrower, so here we are.”

Wilbur’s expression dropped and Phil suddenly felt the need to reassure him. “Don’t worry though, Tommy is a good kid and I’m sure he’ll love you. You’ll be just fine.” Satisfied with that amount of reassurance, Phil put Wilbur’s cage down and locked it into place with the seatbelt, just in case.

Once he was sure the cage and the borrower inside were secure, Phil started up the car. He glanced at the time and hummed to himself. “Should probably pick up some dinner on the way home.” He’d pick up Tommy’s favorite, to try and further ease the pain the news of him working extra hours would bring. Hopefully the food and the new pet will be enough for Tommy.

“Don’t worry mate, we’ll be home soon.” He spoke aloud to Wilbur again, for some extra reassurance before backing out of the parking space and rolling out of the parking lot.

#g/t #giant/tiny #mcyt g/t #dsmp g/t #au #borrowers #borrower!wilbur #human!phil #human!tommy #i don't really like the title #but oh well

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missnight0wl · 2 years ago

Note

So about the leader of 'R'...

First of all, I'd like to say that his "picture perfect son" joke was actually hilarious. I'll give him that, but that's it.

Second of all, just a few things wrong with him...

1. When Verucca asks MC to call her by her name and MC refuses, she threatens to rip their tounge out. Peregrine hears that. He does nothing. If the father reeeeeally loved MC that much, Verucca wouldn't even say such a thing, especially not in front of him.

2. As you said, 'R' forced Jacob to search for the Vaults. They threatened him. If it was only Rakepick, 'R' could've at least reached out to Jacob and tell him that they don't want him to. At least. But they also could've stopped Rakepick. We don't know how many members does 'R' have, but surely enough to stop one (1) witch. The same with "Rakepick" threatening MC's friends and killing Rowan.

3. Rakepick has gone mad in the Vault/Azkaban. It was clear that she was afraid of the leader. It was not an act. How would it be when she can't even think straight? (Which is also stupid if you turned her in. She for sure would go mad in the Vault, but not in Azkaban. Not in such a short time anyway.)

4. The way he insists MC joins 'R' and only tells them stuff after. He won't let it go.

5. They didn't even try to save Burke or Shiratori. Don't tell me it was all part of the plan. Just don't. Do I even need to explain this one? Didn't think so.

6. I don't like him.

The list could go on forever...

I'm the one who sent the ask about him being a mainpulative piece of shit. I'm glad you agree. And thank you for your kind words, I appreciate it. :)

I removed him from my life, just like I hope MC will. For the first time ever, I kinda agree with Jacob, finally some common sense... Although I don't really have any hope for this game anymore, so whatever.

Have a good day!

Alright, so here are a few comments from me!

1. This is a great observation about Verucca. Personally, I chose to call her by her name, and while I did check the other option, I admit that it kind of slipped my mind. But you’re totally right! Also, there’s another thing that caught my attention. In Y7Ch40, there’s this part of the dialogue:

And here are just two first things that I can think of right away that are wrong in this exchange: 1) If R is indeed The Good Guys™, I don’t think any of their members should be okay with such extreme measures like kidnapping teenagers, even if it’s effective. 2) Peregrine is allegedly the leader, right? So he’s above Verucca in the hierarchy? Yet, it sounds like Verucca does whatever she wants. Therefore, I’d say that Peregrine is a wuss, not a leader.

Of course, I’m certain that he’s simply perfectly fine with kidnapping and much worse crimes, but… just sayin’.

2. I agree again. Peregrine’s attempts at explaining everything by blaming Rakepick are just ridiculous. I talked about it in this post. And as I pointed out then: catching Rakepick wasn’t the only way to stop her (though it’s laughable that they couldn’t handle that). If they knew that she’s ruining their image so badly, they should’ve simply approached Jacob and MC, just like you said.

3. Alright, a little clarification for this one. Rakepick in Azkaban hasn’t gone mad. She looks mad because Jam City was too lazy to make two models for her, but she acts and talks pretty normal. Sure, she is affected by her time in Azkaban, but her desperation is shown only after she gets MC’s wand. And while both versions of Rakepick are scared of R, there is a difference between them – but even that difference shows that Peregrine is full of shit.

In the sane route, Rakepick is absolutely sure that R will send someone to “eliminate” her. You could say that it’s understandable, considering that she allegedly ruined their reputation. However… don’t you think that The Good Guys™ wouldn’t try to get revenge by ELIMINATING someone? I think that they’d be satisfied with Rakepick being in Azkaban. In fact, it’s a pretty common trope that a villain mocks a protagonist for being too noble to kill them. Hell, Rakepick herself said something very similar to MC in the Sunken Vault:

Yet, she’s afraid that R will try to eliminate her. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?

“The Good Guys™” my ass.

In the insane route, Rakepick is indeed afraid of R, but she thinks she can still be accepted by him.

(Screenshots from I-GGames YouTube channel.)

But… if she was really purposefully blaming R for her crimes… she wouldn’t think that. She clearly tries to show how obedient she is – and according to Peregrine’s story, it makes no sense. And like you said: it’s not an act because in this version, she’s gone mad, so she’s telling exactly what’s going on in her head.

It goes along with the idea of Peregrine using Rakepick as a scapegoat, which I discussed a couple of times on my blog in recent days. The insane version of Rakepick is stuck in the memories of when she was somehow controlled by R, and she thought that she has no choice but to be obedient. The sane version, though, realised that Peregrine used her, but now is afraid they’ll eliminate her, just so the truth couldn’t be revealed.

4. I agree that the way he insists on MC joining R is unsettling, but it also made me think now about the scene at the Leakey Cauldron. The whole provocation with “the favourite child” is messed up, but the weird thing is how Peregrine treats Jacob.

“I gave up on recruiting you, Jacob”. But… why? And when was it even an option? It’s just so random and clearly used only to set the siblings against each other. Moreover, it annoys me that we don’t really address it because… did Peregrine give up on Jacob because he got trapped in the portrait? I mean, it’s a really pathetic reason, considering that he also claimed that they went after the Cursed Vaults only to save Jacob.

To save him to tell him that he’s a loser and he can’t be recruited.

5. You know, this actually made me realise that it’s basically the same as claiming that “it was all Rakepick”. Like… both Burke and Shiratori were arrested as a member of an evil organisation. It only further ruined R’s reputation. Didn’t it occur to Peregrine that it’s high time to tell the world they’re The Good Guys™?

6. I don’t like him either.

Finally, I totally see your point about Jacob. Unfortunately, I’m afraid it’s gonna backfire. Because sure, it sounds like some common sense in this whole absurdity. However, notice what it also does: it turns Peregrine into a victim. Peregrine shows remorse, he’s back, and he wants to be a good dad. Hell, he was trying to save Jacob all that time! So, it’s clearly Jacob who’s a bad one here, right? Refusing to forgive his own father? How dare he! I know it’s not the case, not really. But MC has a soft spot for underdogs and victims. So… yeah.

I don’t know if Jacob does it intentionally or not. You know that I despise vault!Jacob, so I’m more willing to believe that he’s in cahoots with Peregrine. But even if he’s not, it could still work in Peregrine’s favour, sadly...

Anyway! I’m glad to hear you were able to remove this negativity from your life. I’m really happy for you! :)

As for MC, though… Eh, I don’t really have much hope for them (and this game) either, to be honest. But it’s probably the best approach at this point.

But I do hope you have a wonderful week ahead! 💖

#long post #hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm spoilers #hphm datamine #hphm peregrine #hphm mc #hphm jacob #patricia rakepick #verucca buckthorn #hphm r #analysis post #ask #anonymous

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junko-and-riri-domain · 4 years ago

Text

❦ welcome to ras bakery | pjs

↬ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ: tatts & cupcakes | chapter 1

↬ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: park jongseong / jay x reader ft. all members + eventual appearance of i-land k

↬ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none

↬ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: a little over 2k

↬ sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs: ↱ 25-year-old CEO Park Jongseong, better known as Jay, hasn’t lived an easy life despite being born into a chaebol family. His entire life changed when his ex-girlfriend left their sons, Sunoo and Jungwon at his front door 5 years ago and he was forced to take on the role of a single father. Ever since he took on sole responsibility for two fairly chaotic kids, they and the company have been his sole purpose for living. Due to his responsibilities to his sons and the company, Jay doesn’t have any time to date around nor does he want to date a woman who would just use him for his money and not care about his sons.

L/N Y/N has been trying to make ends meet ever since her parents kicked her out at 17 for getting pregnant. The only thing she’s ever been good at is baking and after a few years, she managed to make a name for herself in the baking field. Now at 23-years-old, she just bought a bakery and moved to the busy streets of Seoul in an effort to better provide for her son and his education. After giving birth to Ni-ki, y/n vowed that she would do everything she could for him and since then has focused on baking. After Ni-ki’s father who wanted nothing to do with his son, y/n swore off men and has stayed independent every since.

When Ni-ki meets Jungwon and Sunoo at school, the three end up becoming best friends and constantly wanting to have playdates. And well… the two single parents find themselves developing a relationship of their own. ↲

As you walked with Ni-ki, your nerves just couldn’t be settled and you were holding his hand tighter than usual.

“It’s gonna be ok, babe,” you started to say to your son. “First days are always tough, y’know? But you’re strong and likable. If other kids don’t like you then just don’t pay attention to them. You’ll make friends easily and when you do, share your lunch because I packed you a lot today. I love you Ni-ki, you know that right? Mama loves you and you’ll be ok-” you were cut off when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your leg, stopping you from walking. Ni-ki looked up at you with a bright smile as you patted his hair and took a deep breath. Honestly, you were more nervous than he was, maybe nervous was an understatement. The one thing that you were glad for was that Ni-ki had his father’s confidence and not yours which was practically nonexistent.

“We’re here,” he said. You looked at the entrance of the school,

“Yeah, I guess we are. Let’s head to class, yeah?” Ni-ki nodded in response going back to holding your hand. You headed to Class B, talking to the teacher, whose name you learned was Choi Yeonjun slightly eased your nerves as you realized he was good with kids and promised to take care of Ni-ki. After seeing Ni-ki settle into the classroom, you left and headed to your bakery to start the day. Things were pretty smooth and despite being the 3rd day of opening, you had a decent amount of customers. After the lunch rush was coming to a close,

“Damn, welcome to Ras Bakery, huh? The line was so long I’ve been waiting for a whole damn hour,” a familiar voice said, causing you to look up at the register.

“Heeseung!” you said with a smile as he set his items on the counter. He smiled at you,

“Hey, you got time right now?”

“Of course I have time for you,” you said as you started making your way to the other side of the counter and heading towards an empty table to chat with Heeseung, your best friend.

“Ni-ki’s at school?” Heeseung asked. You nodded,

“I’m glad you were able to make it here today.”

“I should’ve been there with you to drop him off,” Heeseung said with a slight frown.

“I took pictures, wanna see?” you offered.

“Of course.” Throughout the years, Heeseung was your rock and a large part of Ni-ki’s life. When you had no one to turn to, Heeseung was there and was the person who encouraged you to open up Ras Bakery when you finally had enough money to move out of the market stall. Heeseung was the closest thing Ni-ki had to a father figure and you were thankful that he stayed. You didn’t know how long the two of you chatted despite having seen each other on opening day but it eventually came to the time where Heeseung had to leave and you had to go back to work. Since you didn’t hire an employee yet, you had to close the bakery to pick up Ni-ki from school. You also brought some pastries for him to eat just in case he was hungry. Once Ni-ki saw you waiting for him at the front of the school, he practically ran and you were met with another one of Ni-ki’s hugs. Your son’s hugs could never be replicated and were one way the boy expressed himself. You noticed two boys behind him, one slightly shy while the other gave you a bright smile, practically blinding you like the sun. They came to you with a wave,

“Hi?” you said as more of a question than a statement.

“Mama, can Jungwon-hyung and Sunoo-hyung come to the park with us? They said they were going anyways because that’s where their Jake-hyung was going to pick them up,” Ni-ki asked. Though you did tell your son that he was going to make friends, you were somewhat surprised to actually see it right now in the flesh. Still, you were glad and ruffled Ni-ki’s hair.

“I’ve got pastries do either of you want some?” you offered to the two boys. They nodded, eyes widening as they saw what you had brought and nibbled on their chosen treats while the 4 of you headed to the nearby park. The three of them chatted with each other mostly Sunoo while you listened in.

“Noona, what’s your name?” the boy named Sunoo asked as you sat down on one of the benches.

“Y/n.”

“Y/n-noona?” he asked. You were glad that you were still seen as a noona and not an ajumma despite being a mom.

“What’s up, hon?” you asked, your eyes glancing over to see Ni-ki and Jungwon by the slides then back to Sunoo.

“Ni-ki shared his lunch with us and I was just wondering… can you make me one too?” The little boy in front of you looked so much like the uwu emoji that you had to stop yourself from awing at his cuteness. You were somewhat surprised at the sudden request,

“Do your parents not pack you lunch?” you found yourself asking.

“Daddy does pack us lunch! But he never gives us dessert,” the boy said with a slight pout.

“I don’t mind having Ni-ki bring some extra pastries but I do need to make sure your dad is ok with eating them. I’ll give you a card and you can give it to him when you get home ok?” you offered. Sunoo nodded with wide eyes and you handed him a Ras Bakery business card with a “i sorta maybe gave your sons some pastries and Sunoo’s asking me to pack him some for lunch. give me a call or shoot me a text? ~ ni-ki’s mom” written on the back.

“Thank you, y/n noona!” the boy exclaimed happily as he went to play with Jungwon and Ni-ki. After what was probably around maybe 10 minutes of you scrolling through your phone but making sure to check on the boys as well, an elderly woman came and sat next to you. You bowed to her slightly out of respect to which she responded with a smile.

“Ahh, are you the mom of the boy over there?” As you saw that she was referring to Ni-ki,

“Yes, I am.”

“I’m the grandmother of Minjoo over there,” she said as she pointed to a boy on the swings.

“Aww, he’s cute.”

“Aish, you shouldn’t let your son play with the two boys!” she exclaimed with clear distaste at the sight of them.

“I’m sorry, what do you mean?” you asked, wanting some clarification as to why she said that. You just met Sunoo and Jungwon but they seemed like good kids.

“The two don’t have a mother and their father is always too busy working so he rarely picks them up. It’s usually a browned-hair boy or a black-haired one picking up the two. They’re dressed in luxury labels but what good is that when they’ll just outgrow it tomorrow? They’re probably spoiled to death with money since their father has nothing else to compensate them with.”

“What’s wrong with only having one parent?” It was clear that her words weren’t about the boy’s behavior but rather her own assumptions. She scoffed,

“It’s incomplete and lacking.” You couldn’t believe the ignorance you were currently witnessing and if you were being honest, it hurt your feelings. Sunoo and Jungwon were just kids and no one was here to defend them.

“Who are you to judge whether someone’s kids are spoiled regardless of what they wear? If anything, it’s good that they have a father who can afford them nice-looking clothes and they’re not flaunting it. Having a working father is better than a deadbeat one who doesn’t take responsibility for his child. I’m a single mom, does that mean I’m lacking in providing for my son? There is absolutely nothing wrong with being a single parent because someone needs to take responsibility for the life they’ve created. So if you’ll excuse me ma’am, my son and I will be leaving. Have a good day.” From your left, you heard someone calling Jungwon and Sunoo’s name and you heard excited,

“Jake-hyung!” from the two. You had no idea how long he had been there or what he heard from your conversation with the grandmother but if he did hear anything he didn’t show it.

“Ni-ki!” you called out. The grandmother left and sat somewhere else and you were left standing next to the guy named Jake. As he turned towards you, he gave a bow,

“Thanks for that, earlier I mean. Their dad does work a lot but he does everything he can for them.” You shook your head,

“I don’t know how much you heard earlier but I’m a single parent too so I get it. Sunoo and Jungwon are nice, I’m glad they became friends with Ni-ki.” It wasn’t until that you got a good look at Jake that a realization settled in you. As he extended his hand,

“I’m Jake.” You brought your hand up to your mouth in shock,

“Jake of 02z, that Jake?” He nodded sheepishly hand brought up and ran through his hair,

“That was a while ago, but yeah, I am that Jake.”

“I stanned you guys so much, I never thought I’d actually meet one of you in person, it’s an honor.” 02z was a trio under JinHit Entertainment that debuted years ago and consisted of Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon.

“Ahh, it’s nice always nice to meet a fan. What’s your name?”

“Y/n, this is Ni-ki, my son,” you said, motioning to Ni-ki. Jake smiled and your heart possibly stopped,

“Hopefully I’ll see you around?” you nodded,

“Yeah, hopefully.”

jay’s pov:

As the door to his office opened, Jay instantly knew who it was at the sounds of excitement that filled his otherwise boring day. His boys climbed onto his lap and he smiled at Jake.

“Thanks, man,” Jay said.

“Daddy, we made a friend today!” Jungwon said wide-eyed and happy. Jay knew that it was hard for his sons to make friends when their parents were telling their kids to stay away due to him being a single father.

“Yeah? What’s their name?” Jay asked as he leaned back into his chair, Jake sat in the seat across the desk and Sunoo decided to climb to him.

“Ni-ki or Riki? He said he doesn’t care which one. Y/n-noona packed him sandwiches and she walked with us to the park and gave us a pastry to snack on!”

“How was it?”

“Daddy, it tasted so good!” It was now Sunoo who spoke up. It didn’t come as a surprise to Jay that Sunoo said the pastries tasted good since he liked eating everything.

“Oh yeah! Y/n-noona gave this!” Sunoo dug through his bag and handed Jay the now crumpled-up business card. Jay looked at the note written behind it, then to Sunoo,

“Y/n-noona is who…?”

“Ni-ki’s mom,” Jake answered. “Speaking of, she’s really nice. Stood up for the boys when Minjoo’s grandma was saying some stuff that wasn’t exactly nice.”

“Really?” Jay asked somewhat shocked that someone was actually on his boys’ side for once.

“She was a fan of ours, even recognized me. She’s a single parent too. I’m gonna head out now, you gonna be ok?” Jake asked. Jay cleared his throat, carefully putting the business card in his wallet.

“Thanks for picking them up.”

“Yeah, just dogsit Layla for me some time,” Jake replied with a smile. As Jake left, a wave of impulsivity washed over Jay.

“Do you guys wanna go to the bakery?” he offered to his sons.

❦ written by riri | next | series masterlist

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