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caligvlasaqvarivm · 4 months

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How do you analyze so good I'm really impressed and honestly wonder if I can learn from you

It's a skill, so the good news is, you can practice and get better at it!

Read A Lot/Gain Context

Analysis often means making comparisons or drawing from external context - one of the best things you can do if you want to be better at analysis is to try to cram your head with as much knowledge as possible. The time period, culture of origin, and where the author slots into those are usually major influences on a work (in Homestuck's case, much of it is a direct commentary on the internet culture it emerged from, and missing that part of it can drastically influence how the story reads).

Also important are the works the author themselves are inspired by. You've likely heard some variation of "nothing is original." We're actually really lucky with Homestuck in that regard, as the work is highly referential, and you can glean a lot by looking at what it references (for example, if you watch Serendipity, one of Karkat's favorite movies, which is titledropped during the troll romance explanation, you will understand Karkat so much better). This applies to things like mythological allusions - you'll hardly know why it matters that Karkat is a Christ figure if you don't know what the general outline of the Christ story is, nor will you pick up on the Rapture elements of Gamzee's religion or the fact that Doc Scratch is The Devil, etc. The key to picking up a lot of symbolism is being aware that the symbols exist.

And last, it helps to read a lot of media and media analysis so you can get a better understanding of how media "works" - how tropes are used, what effect language has, what other entries into the genre/works with similar themes/etc. have already done to explore the same things as the piece being analyzed is doing - and what other people have already gleaned and interpreted. I've mentioned before that many people seem to find Homestuck's storytelling bizarre and unique when it's actually quite standard for postmodernism, the genre it belongs to. But you're not going to know that if you've never read anything postmodern, y'know? I also often prepare for long character essays by reading other peoples' character essays - sometimes people pick up on things I miss, and sometimes people have interpretations I vehemently disagree with; both of these help me to refine my take on the matter.

Try to Discard Biases/Meet the Work Where It Is

Many will carry into reading media an expectation of what they want to get out of it. For example, one generally goes into a standard hetero romance book expecting a female lead, a male love interest, romance (of course), and a happy ending for the happy couple. If the book fails to deliver these things, a reader will often walk away thinking it was a bad book, even if the story told instead is objectively good and interesting. We actually see this a lot with Wuthering Heights, which receives very polarizing reviews because people go into it expecting a gothic romance, when it's really more like a gossip Youtube video spilling the tea on some shitty rich people (and it's really good at being that).

There's nothing necessarily wrong with this when reading for pleasure and personal enjoyment, but it presents a problem when attempting to analyze something. There's a concept called the "Procrustean bed," named after a mythological bandit who used to stretch people or cut off their limbs to fit them to a bed, that describes "an arbitrary standard to which exact conformity is forced." Going into a media reading with expectations and biases often results in a very Procrustean reading - I'm sure we've all seen posts complaining about how fanfic often forces canon characters to fit certain archetypes while discarding their actual character traits, etc.

Therefore, when reading for analysis, it's generally a good idea to try and discard as much bias and expectation as possible (obviously, we are never fully free of bias, but the effort counts) - or, perhaps even better, to compartmentalize those biases for comparison while reading. For example, Hussie talks at length about what they INTENDED Homestuck to be, and, while reading, I like to keep Hussie's words to the side while I try to experience the comic fresh, seeing what choices were made in accordance with Hussie's intentions, or where I think Hussie may have fumbled the messaging. At the same time, I try to let the work stand on its own, set in its proper context.

I'd say this is the number-one problem in fandom analysis. For example, people hear from the fandom that Eridan is an incel or a nice guy, so they interpret everything he says and does to fit that belief, or ignore any contradictory evidence. Or they fall for the character's façade that's meant to be dismantled by the viewer. Some works are fairly shallow and accessible, wearing all their meaning on their sleeve (or are Not That Deep, if you prefer meme-talk), and problems arise when a work is, in fact, That Deep, because someone biased towards the former will discard evidence that a work is the latter. This isn't exclusive to HS - it's happened in basically all of my fandoms - which is a statement to how easy it is to fall into this way of thinking.

Even without knowing that Hussie had coming-of-age themes in mind, for example, characters will talk about being kids and growing up. Knowing that Hussie has explicitly said that that's one of HS's themes serves as extra evidence for that interpretation, but the work itself tells you what it's about - if you're willing to listen to it.

Even If the Curtains are Just Blue, That Still Means Something

This is the next biggest fandom stumbling block - thr insinuation that when things in a work are put into the work without more explicit symbolism, that that means they're a discardable detail. This one is more about making a mindset shift - details aren't discardable, even if they don't appear to have been made with the explicit intention to mean something. Everything kind of means something.

First of all, whether or not the curtains are Just Blue is often highly dependent on the work. For example, in something made in large quantities with little time, staff, and budget - say, for example, one of the entries into the MCU's TV shows - there likely isn't too much meaning behind a choice of blue curtains in a shot (although you'd be surprised how often choices in these constrained environments are still very deliberately made). In a work like Homestuck, however, so terribly dense with symbolism and allegory, chances are, the blue curtains DO hold some special meaning, even if it's not readily apparent.

However, even in cases where a choice is made arbitrarily, it still usually ends up revealing something about the work's creative process. Going back to our MCU example, perhaps the blue curtains were chosen because the shot is cool-toned and they fit the color grading. Perhaps they were chosen because the director really likes blue. Perhaps the shot was filmed at an actual location and the blue curtains were already there. Or, even, perhaps the blue curtains were just what they had on hand, and the show was made too quickly and cheaply to bother sourcing something that would fit the tone or lend extra meaning. These all, to varying degrees, say something about the work - maybe not anything so significant that it would come up in an analysis, but they still contribute to a greater understanding of what the work is, what it's trying to say, and how successful it is at saying it.

And this applies to things with much higher stakes. For example, Hussie being a white US citizen likely had an effect on the B1 kids being mostly US citizens, and there was discourse surrounding how, even though they were ostensibly aracial, references were made to Dave's pale skin. Do I think these were deliberate choices made to push some sort of US superiority; no, obviously not. But they still end up revealing things about the creation of the work - that Hussie had certain biases as a result of being who they were.

Your Brain is Designed to Recognize Patterns, So Put That to Use

So with "establish context" and "discard expectations" out of the way, we can start getting into the nitty-gritty of what should be jumping out at you when attempting to understand a work. One of the most prominent things that you should be looking for is PATTERNS.

Writing is a highly conscious effort, which draws from highly unconscious places. Naturally, whether these patterns are intentional or unintentional is dependent on the author (see again why reading up on a work's context is so important), but you can generally bet that anything that IS a pattern is something that holds significance.

For example, Karkat consistently shows that he's very distraught when any of his friends get hurt, that he misses his friends, even the murderous assholes, that he's willing to sit them down and intervene on their behalf, despite all his grandstanding to the contrary. We are supposed to notice that Karkat actually loves his friends, and that he's lying when he says he doesn't care about them.

Homestuck is very carefully and deliberately crafted; if something comes up more than once, it's a safe bet to assume that you're supposed to notice, or at least feel, it. Don't take my word for it:

Basically, [reusing elements is] about building an extremely dense interior vocabulary to tell a story with, and continue to build and expand that vocabulary by revisiting its components often, combining them, extending them and so on. A vocabulary can be (and usually is) simple, consisting of single words, but in this case it extends to entire sentences and paragraph structures and visual forms and even entire scenes like the one linked above. Sometimes the purpose for reiteration is clear, and sometimes there really is no purpose other than to hit a familiar note, and for me that's all that needs to happen for it to be worthwhile. Triggering recognition is a powerful tool for a storyteller to use. Recognition is a powerful experience for a reader. It promotes alertness, at the very least. And in a lot of cases here, I think it promotes levity (humor! this is mostly a work of comedy, remember.) Controlling a reader's recognition faculty is one way to manipulate the reader's reactions as desired to advance the creative agenda.

But this applies to less deliberately-crafted work, too; for example, if an author consistently writes women as shallow, cruel, and manipulative, then we can glean that the author probably has some sort of issue with women. Villains often being queer-coded suggests that the culture they come from has problems with the gays. Etc. etc.

This is how I reached my conclusion that Pale EriKar is heavily foreshadowed - the two are CONSTANTLY kind to each other, sharing secrets, providing emotional support, etc. etc. It's why that part of my Eridan essay is structured the way that it is - by showing you first how consistently the two interact in suspiciously pale-coded ways, the fact that a crab is shown in both Eridan's first appearance AND his appearance on the moirallegiance "hatched for each other" page becomes the cincher of a PATTERN of the two being set up to shoosh-pap each other.

A work will tell you about itself if you listen. If it tells you something over and over, then it's basically begging you to pay attention.

Contrast is Important, Too

Patterns are also significant when they're broken. For example, say a villain is constantly beating up the protagonist. Here's our pattern: the hero is physically weaker than the villain. In a straight fight, the hero will always lose.

And then, at the mid-season two-parter, the hero WINS. Since we've set up this long pattern of the hero always losing to this villain, the fact that this pattern was disrupted means that this moment is extremely important for the work. Let's say the hero wins using guile - in this case, we walk away with the message that the work is saying that insurmountable obstacles may have workarounds, and adaptability and flexibility are good, heroic traits. Now let's say the hero won using physical strength, after a whole season of training and practicing - in this case, we say that the work says hard work and effort are heroic, and will pay off in the end.

In Homestuck, as an example, we set up a long pattern of Vriska being an awful, manipulative bitch, and a fairly remorseless killer. And then, after killing Tavros, she talks to John and admits that she's freaking out because she feels really bad about it. This vulnerability is hinted at by some of her earlier actions/dialogue, which is itself a pattern to notice, but it's not really explicit until it's set up to be in direct contrast to the ultimate spider8itch move of killing Tavros. This contrast is intended to draw our attention, to point out something significant - hey, Vriska feels bad! She's a product of her terrible society and awful lusus! While it's shitty that she killed Tavros, she's also meant to be tragic and sympathetic herself!

Hussie even talks about how patterns and surprises are used in tandem:

Prior to Eridan's entrance into the room, and even during, the deaths were completely unguessable. After Feferi's death, Kanaya's becomes considerably more so, but still quite uncertain. After her death, all bets are off. Not only do all deaths thereafter become guessable, but in some cases, "predictable". That's because it was the line between a series of shocking events, and the establishment of an actual story pattern. The new pattern serves a purpose, as a sort of announcement that the story is shifting gears, that we're drifting into these mock-survival horror, mock-crime drama segments, driven by suspense more than usual. The suspense has more authority because of all the collateral of unpredictability built up over time, as well as all the typical stuff that helps like long term characterization. But now that the pattern is out in the open, following through with more deaths no longer qualifies as unpredictability. Just the opposite, it would now be playing into expectations, which as I said, can be important too. This gear we've switched to is the new normal, and any unpredictability to arise thereafter will necessarily be a departure from whatever current patterns would indicate.

Patterns are important because they tell you what baselines the work is setting - what's normal, what's standard, what this or that generally "means." Contrast is important because it means something has changed, or some significant point is being made. They work in tandem to provide the reader with points of focus in the story, things to keep in mind as they read, consciously or unconsciously.

Theme

I'm talking about this stuff in pretty broad and open terms because stories are so malleable, and so myriad, and can say so many things. There are stories where horrible cruelties are painted as good things - propoganda is the big one, but consider all the discourse around romance books that paint abusive/toxic relationships as ideal. There are stories where the protagonist is actually the villain, and their actions are not aspirational, and works where everyone sucks and nobody is aspirational, and works where everybody is essentially a good person, if sometimes misguided.

This is, again, why outside context is so important, and biases need to be left at the door. For example, generally speaking, one can assume that the protagonist of a children's cartoon is going to be an aspirational hero, or at least a conflicted character who must learn to do the right thing. However, there are even exceptions to this! Invader Zim, for example, features an outright villain protagonist - a proud servant of a fascist empire - and for a lower-stakes example, the Eds of Ed, Edd, n' Eddy are the neighborhood scammers, constantly causing problems for the other characters with their schemes.

Thus, how do we determine what any particular narrative's stance on a given topic is? It's a difficult question to answer because every narrative is different. If I say something like, "the things that bring the protagonists success in their goals are what the narrative says are good," then we run into the issue of villain/gray morality protagonists. To use moral terms like "hero" and "villain" instead runs into the problem of defining morality within a narrative in the first place. But you have to draw the line somewhere.

So that brings us to themes.

Now, as with a lot of artistic terms, "theme" isn't necessarily well-defined (this isn't helped by the way the word is used colloquially to mean things like aesthetic, moral of the story, or symbolism). Wikipedia says: "In contemporary literary studies, a theme is a central topic, subject, or message within a narrative," but this is still very broad and hard to work with, so I'll give it a shot.

A theme is what a work says, beyond the literal series of events. Sometimes a theme is obvious - the theme of Boy Who Cried Wolf is that if you become famous for lying, you won't be believed when you tell the truth. Sometimes a theme is one of many - for example, Disney's Cinderalla says that kindness and virtue will eventually be recognized and rewarded, and that cruelty is interlinked with ugliness. Sometimes a theme is unintentional - for example, how Disney's body of work tends to villainize queer-coded characters. Sometimes context and the passage of time changes the theme - for example, Snow White originally held a message of hope for wartime families that domestic normalcy would one day return, but is now seen as anti-feminist as it appears to insinuate that a woman's place is in the kitchen, and her happiness is in marriage to a man. And sometimes a theme is not something you agree with.

In any case, a theme is a meaning to be gleaned from the text, more broad and universally applicable than the text itself. After all, we humans have traditionally always used story to impart meaning; our oldest epic, The Epic of Gilgamesh, contains within it several themes, most famously that of accepting one's mortality. It's startling, really, how applicable the story is to this day, even if specific details have become obtuse or unsavory to a modern reader.

This is, again, why it's so important to engage with a text on its own terms, in its own context, with as little bias as possible. A story's themes are not necessarily apparent, and commonly implied rather than stated outright, and approaching the story with expectations can easily lead to a Procrustean twisting of the facts to fit those expectations. A theme should emerge to the analyzer out of the reading, not the other way around.

Identifying theme gets easier with practice, and largely comes down to identifying patterns within the narrative (alongside looking at context and symbolism, of course). What does the narrative consistently touch base on? Are there any references; is there any symbolism? What does the story deem "normal," "good," or "bad"? How are ideas developed, and why? Why did these events happen, and are those motivations echoed anywhere else?

Homestuck is very complex and tackles many topics at once, and explaining why it's a coming-of-age would basically require a whole second essay, so I'll use a simpler and more popular example (like I've been trying to do) - let's say, Shrek.

The most obvious theme of Shrek is that beauty does not equate goodness, that one mustn't judge a book by its cover. The opening sequence is LITERALLY Shrek ripping out pages of a fairy tale book to use as toilet paper, and the movie ends with Fiona finding that her happiest, truest self IS as an ugly ogre. Shrek's main character conflict is that people immediately judge him as cruel and evil because he's ugly, and the characters' lowest points occur because Fiona is similarly insecure about her ogre half, considering it unlovable.

But there's other stuff in there, too. For example, if you know that Dreamworks and Shrek were founded after a falling out with Disney, then the beautiful, sanitized city of Dulac, with its switchback queue and singing animatronics add to this theme of a direct refutation of traditional Disney fairytale values, mocking them as manufactured, inhuman, and even cruel in the way that they marginalize those who don't fit an ideal of beauty. Again we see the opening sequence - defacing a fairytale - as support for this, but also the way that Dulac is displacing fairytale creatures. There's a moment where Gepetto literally sells Pinocchio, which can easily be read as a commentary on the crass commercialization and exploitation of fairy tales Disney likes to do.

And then, of course, there are lesser, supplementary themes. Love being a powerful positive force is one - Donkey is able to rally Shrek after he truly reciprocates Dragon's love for him (which echoes the theme of not equating goodness with beauty, as Dragon is still big and scary), and it's true love's kiss that grants Fiona her happy ending.

And then there's stuff that's unintentional. There's all this work done about how beauty =/= goodness, but then they made the villain incredibly short, which is a traditionally unattractive physical feature. So, does that mean that ugly things can be beautiful unless that ugliness is specifically height?

Sometimes, authorial intent does not match up with result - but in those instances, I think the most is revealed about the author. Modern Disney products tend to be very cowardly about going anti-corporation and pro-weirdness, despite their usual feel-good tones and uplifting themes - and that says a lot about Disney, doesn't it. That's why I think it's still important to keep authorial intent in mind, if possible, even if they fumble what they say they've set out to do.

Obviously, Lord Fuckwad being short doesn't REALLY detract from the overall message - but it's still a weird hitch in the themes, which I think is interesting to talk about, so you can see where personal judgement and biases DO have to be applied. There are two options here, more or less - either one believes that Shrek is making an exception for short people, who are of the Devil, or one believes that the filmmakers did a bit of an oopsie. Barring an outright statement from the filmmakers, there's no way to know for sure.

We can say a work has very complex themes when it intentionally explores multiple ideas very deeply. We can say a work has shallow themes when it doesn't have much intentional meaning, and/or that meaning is explored very lightly. The labyrinthine storytelling of Homestuck, with its forays into mortality, morality, and growing up, chock full of symbolism and pastiche and allusions, is a work with complex themes - especially as compared to the average newspaper comic strip, although they ostensibly share a genre.

We can say a work has very unified themes when these themes serve to compliment each other - the refutation of Disney-esque values, and love as a positive driving force, compliment the main theme in Shrek of not judging books by their covers, of beauty not equating to goodness. Ugly things are worthy of love, and those who push standards of beauty are evil and suck.

Similarly, we can say a work has unfocused or messy themes when the themes it includes - intentionally or not - contradict, distract, and/or detract from each other. Beauty has no correlation to goodness... unless you're short, in which case, you are closer to Hell and therefore of evil blood. To get a little controversial, this is actually why I didn't like Last Wish very much - there are approximately three separate storylines, with three separate thematic arcs, going on in the same movie, none of which particularly compliment each other - so the experience was very messy to me, story-wise, even though it was pretty and the wolf was hot. This is why we feel weird about Disney pushing anti-corporate messages, when they're a big corporate machine, or why it's easy to assume Homestuck was written poorly if you don't like Hussie - we want themes to be coherent, we want context to be unified with output.

Tone

Tone is somehow even harder to define than theme. It's like, the "vibe" of a work. For example, you generally don't expect something lighthearted to deal with the realistic, brutal tragedies of war. Maybe it'll touch on them in light, optimistic ways, but it isn't about to go All Quiet on the Western Front on the reader. By the same token, you don't expect fully happy endings out of the melodrama of opera, or frivolous slice of life from something grimdark.

Tone, too, is something people often wind up Procrusteanizing, which makes discussion difficult if two people disagree. If I read Homestuck as unwaveringly optimistic, with its downer ending the result of an author fumble, I'm pretty much going to irreconcileably disagree with somebody who reads Homestuck as though it's always been a kind of tragedy where things don't work out for the characters. Since it's even more difficult to define than theme, I'm not even really going to bother; I just felt like I had to bring it up because, despite its nebulosity, it's vital to how one reads and interprets a text. Sometimes I don't have a better answer for why I dislike a certain interpretation other than that it doesn't suit the work's tone. I generally try to avoid saying that, though, because it winds up smacking of subjective preference.

In summary... analysis is about keeping everything in mind all the time! But i swear, it gets easier the more you do it. Happy reading!

#homestuck #literary analysis #critical thinking

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kahvilahuhut · 3 months

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just a normal workplace conversation

Summary: What happens when you have two people, who have known each other since university, work on the same project leading different teams? Definitely completely normal conversations that definitely stay on the the same topic all the time (sarcasm). What else can you talk about on your way from one room to another.

Tws: mention of a wound

---

"Hey, Toby. Do you have a moment? Can I get your thoughts on something?"

Tobias turned around and saw Aleena leaning on the door frame, hologram gloves on. He waved his hand. "Sure! If we also get more coffee on our way to your little hologram room," he glanced at his three empty cups standing in the same corner of his desk, one clearly leaving a stain on his to-do list.

"Still a coffee freak, I see. Have you ever tried matcha?"

"Green tea is for evenings when you gotta calm down but don't want to sleep yet. Speaking of, hang on, need to write this down or I'll forget," he opened his whiteboard marker and wrote 'buy more genmaitcha' on his notes section of the board.

"I disagree with your tea opinions but sure, do whatever you want."

"Funny how you're talking about tea when all our office had back then was english breakfast and some flavored green tea."

"It had earl grey too."

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway," he closed his whiteboard marker and placed it in his lab coat's pocket, "what do you need my thoughts for? Though, if it's something anatomy related, I probably barely have any thoughts."

Aleena smirked and motioned him to follow. "Weren't you the guy with the heaviest physiology book in dorm?"

"Bold of you to assume I ever opened it," he chuckled. "I think I mostly used it as a press for things. Like if I accidentally fucked up my notebook's front page and couldn't straighten it out with bare hands or a ruler. Never been into collecting leaves, though. I even managed to skip the whole school year that had it."

"City kid."

"Hey, I was raised in suburbs, we had trees and plants there! A pair of pigeons used to make a nest in front of my house. I just, you know," he shook his hands, "don't want to touch anything dirty. One of the reasons I suck at gardening, too."

"Honestly, that explains while you prefer working in a clean lab environment."

"Hah, nothing better than the smell of dimethyl sulfoxide," he paused with a wide smile, "Get it? Because it doesn't have a scent. At least when it's pure."

"Missed your humor, lab boy. And your sweaters. Is that a bee?"

"Yes! I think the first time I knitted one like this was almost seventeen years ago. I've made at least four of these. First one got ruined when I accidentally knocked a wine bottle while leaning to- Well, anyway! Glad you noticed. I think Samuel hates it. Saw him today when I came to the office in the morning and he just stared at me and my sweater."

"He hates everything related to you, it seems, if I can be honest?" She looked around to make sure that no one was close by, "I heard he wanted to pick someone else as the lead chemist, and the project board overruled him."

"Oh, god, you should have seen his face when I mentioned in the interview that I've only been doing part-time roles for last decade due to health problems. I mean, he's a Mackie guy, though, so no surprise there."

"They seem to have not liking you as a personality trait. Which is funny, considering how your wife works there."

Tobias laughed. "I think Klara's the only reason why their agents haven't shot me in some dark alley yet," he paused, "Can you blame them though? Imagine a guy who tried to whistleblow one of your projects now appears on your new project rekated to the previously mentioned project."

"Christ, Toby, you know how to have fun, don't you," Aleena laughed and opened the door to hologram room. "Speaking of projects, that's one of the things I need your help with. I found something while looking through the old project's files. Since you were there, I thought you could explain it."

He walked in after her, slightly wincing at the bright lamp shining in the middle of dark room. "Oooooh. I'm already having a bad feeling about this." Tobias wasn't sure himself whether he said that about the thing Aleena was asking him about or that he forgot to refill his migraine meds in the bag.

"You said the same thing about taking Frank as one of the ad faces."

"Was I wrong?"

"You tell me - is he good in bed?"

"He sucks. Interpret that however you want."

"Alright then, keep your dirty secrets." She walked to the round, grey area on the floor and pressed a button on the screen next to it. A hologram appeared, showing a scanned part of a hand, stab wound clearly visible. Aleena switched on her gloves and waved her hands to zoom in on the inside parts of the wound. "This was the problem, wasn't it? The substance clogging literally everything around the wound."

Tobias nodded. "Uh-huh. And then they decided to use it as something to cause lethal damage with. And failed."

"Yeah, well. I was thinking, you know," she swiped her hand to the right and an animation appeared, "what if we managed to somehow make it only block the wound, like some kind of magic band-aid?"

"When they closed the project they were indeed theorizing that, if I remember right."

"So it might just work?"

"Hell yeah it might work."

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #my writing #oc writing #original writing #creative writing #writing #ch: tobias #ch: aleena

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 11 months

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“When you are studying any matter, or considering any philosophy, ask yourself only, what are the facts, and what is the truth that the facts bear out? Never let yourself be diverted either by what you wish to believe, or by what you think would have beneficent social effects, if it were believed. But look only, and solely, at what are the facts? That is the intellectual thing that I should wish to say.” -- Bertrand Russell

“Progress isn’t achieved by preachers or guardians of morality, but by madmen, hermits, heretics, dreamers, rebels and sceptics.” -- Stephen Fry

‘Wokeness’, the new catch all term thrown in the faces of “the liberals” to malign and undermine who they are.

In many ways it has become the same as ‘the patriarchy’, another ghoul in the closet, intangible and meaningless, used to simply fling mud at ‘the other’.

But what is it to be ‘woke’?

How has a term that was embraced by so many, worn as a badge of honour to signify social awareness, slowly become a term of ridicule, and a finger with which to point and laugh at others?

I must admit, I once considered myself ‘woke’, but have slowly grown to see how those like me, and around me, have become enamoured with a set of political ideas, that, well, really make little sense.

To be woke today, in my view, is the political prioritisation of looking good, over doing good.

It is to wear political opinions like fashion accessories; caring little about utility or objective truth, and more about seeming virtuous in front of your peers.

And so arrives a plethora of mugs, t shirts, and tote bags, that ram our self righteous political beliefs into the faces of others, with little care for what’s right.

Because, and I hate to say this – what’s right, is rarely what is popular.

And to be progressive, is not to blindly pick up the most en-vogue political ideas in front of you, and wave them above your head.

To be progressive is often to rock the boat and throw stones at popular convention, to lift up and advocate for evidence based truth, regardless of the personal cost.

To be a progressive is to lie down on a bed of nails, and endure what comes next, in support your beliefs.

To do what is hard, not what is easy, or popular, or what your friends do.

I no longer consider myself as ‘woke’, and have since joined the cynical crowd that stands opposite them.

Instead, I have done the work to understand the nuanced and often contradictory nature of social issues, to swallow my pride, and change my mind when I need to, and confront those around me when I must.

So what is woke to you?

Sources:

DV Murray Straus: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/233717660_Thirty_Years_of_Denying_the_Evidence_on_Gender_Symmetry_in_Partner_Violence_Implications_for_Prevention_and_Treatment

UNESCO Education: https://www.unesco.org/en/articles/what-you-need-know-about-unescos-global-report-boys-disengagement-education

Stranger Violence: https://www.ons.gov.uk/peoplepopulationandcommunity/crimeandjustice/articles/thenatureofviolentcrimeinenglandandwales/yearendingmarch2020

I still like Wilfred Reilly's definition:

the belief that (1) all of society is currently and intentionally structured to oppress, (2) all gaps in performance between large groups illustrate this, and (3) the solution is 'equity' - proportional representation w/o regard to performance.

But I would add to it that:

(4) these beliefs must be publicly and repeatedly declared as a primary personality trait.

You can't simply be "born again," you have to announce to the world that you were saved by Jesus Christ.

A simpler explanation would be: left-wing social illiberalism in denial of material reality. In a manner shockingly similar to right-wing religious illiberalism in denial of material reality.

“Luxury beliefs are ideas and opinions that confer status on the upper class, while often inflicting costs on the lower classes.” -- Rob Henderson

#The Tin Men #woke #definition of woke #wokeness as religion #wokeism #cult of woke #wokeness #domestic violence #male victims of domestic violence #domestic abuse #male victims of domestic abuse #stranger violence #violence against women #performative #luxury beliefs #religion is a mental illness

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sapphire-weapon · 1 year

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overall, are you happy with the direction that Capcom is taking with Leon? is there anything you would do differently, in either previous games or future games/movies?

lays down on the floor

covers head with pillow

screams incoherently

I have so many fucking problems with Leon's character, dude

so fucking many

he is so inconsistently written in terms of his just regular-ass personality traits. you can't watch Degeneration and then watch Damnation and then play RE2 and think that those three guys are all the same character. they're all Leon in name (and hair) only.

I remember watching through Infinite Darkness and having to pause it regularly because that series made me feel fucking INSANE because Leon's characterization was just wildly bouncing around between moods and motivations and logic, and I literally couldn't follow who the fuck he was supposed to even be at any given moment.

and don't get me started on the whole Ada mess.

but his overall, general, overarching character arc? is written in such a way that, no matter how off his outward personality feels, it remains consistent and coherent. he's a man stuck in place who sometimes spirals in ways that manifest differently every single time because nothing else in his life ever fucking changes.

he's the only protagonist in the RE storyline who has a negative arc -- who starts off idealistic and hopeful and just becomes more angry and jaded and depressed as time goes on until he hits rock bottom in Vendetta. Chris and Claire and Jill all keep finding new reasons to keep going -- new things or people to keep fighting for. Leon doesn't.

the only things that Leon ever finds are new reasons to eat a bullet.

and I find that absolutely fascinating and compelling -- to the point where I almost want them to keep going with this negative arc until he goes full villain. he just burns the whole system down, because that's the only way anything is ever going to change.

so, like. in a broad sense, no, I wouldn't change a thing.

but dear god can someone at Capcom just pick a fucking character voice for him and stick to it? preferably whoever the fuck wrote Death Island? please.

for the love of fucking christ please

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seeminglyseph · 7 months

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listening to a podcast review thing about Fourth Wing, and I admit I don't know a lot about the book series. I haven't done as much reading as I ought to have lately, and so I only really know about the book what I'm hearing now in this review. and so I do currently know that yeah, here in the beginning the writing seems a bit blunt and slightly clumsy for my preference, and I don't know for sure how the EDS is gonna be handled in the rest of the book but I can see how it would feel like it's making too much of a point up front for some people.

But I also remember RPing a character with chronic pain and weakness caused by disability, and having people complain that it hindered my character all the time and like. My brother in christ, disabilities unfortunately kinda do hinder ya *all the time.* Like the anime rule where you get to turn off the disability to do cool shit usually is like. Adrenaline or drugs. And then you fucking go to hell.

Though, being someone who literally like. fumbled into writing a character with chronic pain and disability based on like. forgetting that most people don't like. have a hard time getting up, constantly rub their neck to relieve the tension and pain, groan like their dying as they move at the age of 23, have their whole spine crack audibly when they stretch, have them stretch their back and shoulders like an old man when left standing somewhere like they have an idle animation, stretch and rub their jaw in a way that I've come to learn is really identifiable as a fibro trait (not specifically fibro, but I've had someone be like 'hey, I had a friend who had fibro who always did that exact same thing.' which was fucking. weird having someone be like. "*point* you're looking pretty fibromyalgia today.")

I mean, I've had people suspect I have mild EDS as a comorbidity to other things I have, since it's frequently comorbid with like. ADHD and Fibro I think. Plus I'm weirdly flexible in certain ways, and have dislocated joints extremely easily. But I have never been diagnosed or looked into it too deeply, which maybe I should, and would live a better life that way. maybe it would explain some shit. like how I kept dislocating my hips as a young adult. Fuck. that might actually be a really important clue I failed to pick up for a really long time. that really sucked a lot, and it happened really easily all the time. I also popped my shoulder out of joint trying to pull a bow, and a bunch of other times which... hm. damn it. okay. so maybe I need to do some new research, but like.

idk. I lost track of the point putting together some pieces of the puzzle in my own medical mystery. I don't know of Fourth Wing's writing style is one I'd be able to tolerate reading for myself from the snippets I've seen and heard so far, but like. from a disability angle like. so far, so... annoyingly fundamental feature defining aspects of a persons life? turns out when your body gets real fucked up when you try to do stuff, you're not able to do as much. fuckin' wild.

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heckticeclectic · 11 months

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So the worst part for me about being wildly too intense in my parasocial relationships, is I am way too self-aware of all of it. I know I only want to be with this person I'm fixated on because I see all the traits I'd want in a partner in them. I know I don't actually know them at all. I don't make collages for this hell site or try to contact them or make thirst traps. Sure I consume the content and I feel that isn't ethical either because I know this person probably hates this content exists at all. The hardest part for me is I just see this person as a man who actually has empathy and respect for his partners and that seems impossible to find. That itself is enough to make me feel devastated I'll never find someone like him. I spent 3.5 years in an abusive relationship dreaming of this small-time nerdy Youtuber. I tried to lucid dream so I could talk to my imaginary version of him for fucking Christ's sake. I am with a new guy who I've just realized also doesn't have the kindness I see in my hyper fixation. I know I've turned this person into an idol and in the magical world where I'd be dating them, I'd still be me, with all my pain and baggage. It wouldn't fix everything but in spite of all that logic, some deluded part of my brain can't let go of the idea that I would be happy.

A man with empathy seems to be an elusive cryptid. /s

(I know I just pick bad men and there are tons of good ones, but I keep trying desperately and can't seem to get it down so thems my feelings. There are plenty of good dudes. Im just a failure.)

#parasocial relationships #hyperfixation #nerd culture #ethical parasocial consumption

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vvatchword · 11 months

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Why I Swear

I had someone actually comment on a video telling me that they wished i would stop cursing. Now, the video was for me 100%, and it was just asking a question: help me organize hierarchically for worldbuilding purposes, and I was pissy at the time because it seemed like it should be easy, and also I am intensely depressed right now and swearing makes me happy.

In any case, the comment really made me stop and do a think.

Do I want to stop swearing? Why do I swear in the first place? Am I swearing incorrectly? Because you really can start throwing in too many f-bombs. I have done it before. And I will

DO IT AGAIN

So here's the thing about swearing, in case you've ever wondered, or if you have known me from my Distant Past:

Once, I never swore at all. I was so clean, in fact, that other people in high school consistently noted it as one of my personal traits. This was mostly from a sense of propriety and intense religiousness. See, I lived my whole childhood idolizing adults and an Ideal Adulthood--an Ideal Human Experience, if you will. I was merely an adult-in-training, and ideally, Adults Do Not Swear.

When I finally left the faith, I was very disturbed by how complete strangers would just ASSUME I was religious. Specifically, they seemed to clock me as evangelical Christian every time. I couldn't figure it out, and I hated it. I wanted people to KNOW I wasn't religious, and being "identified" as religious just... well, it re-traumatized me. There's no easy way of putting that.

I had some options. Dress specifically? Wear specific merchandise that clearly tied me to anti- or areligious groups? Well, no. I lived in the middle of bass-ackwards Texas and that was just asking for trouble, and it would probably go the opposite way and CREATE antagonism. If you've ever had an ACLU card pop out during a transaction in a store playing Christian music you might pick up on some of the spine-tingling terror that inspires. Oh, and it wasn't a store, it was a dental office, and I hadn't had my procedure done yet. So that's a cool feeling.

You know what you can do?

Pick up "god" instead of "gosh." "Hell" instead of "heck." Eventually, grow brave enough to mention crudities off-hand, and learn how to employ swears and imply filth strategically. And, finally, pepper your speech with "fucks."

The outcome is fucking magical. For one thing, then people can't assume that you are expressing any political belief at all. They can just assume you are ignorant. Hilariously, yes, that is what intensely religious people in Texas will think. You're swearing! You haven't heard the Good News yet!! You might just be a casual Christian!!! THERE IS HOPE FOR YOU YET, GRASSHOPPER!!!!!! ACCEPT CHRIST INTO YOUR HEARRRT

Approbation for swearing is mild, too. You can just not swear on the clock, but swear after it. It's off-putting to older and more proper people, but you don't have to use it much, or as strongly, to get yourself across. And because normal people make for absolutely wretched missionaries, they will KNOW you aren't quite "right" but they also have to wait for very specific points in time to start selling some Jesus.

What is more, something about picking up the act of swearing itself alters you a little. I have no idea what it is. Confidence? The congealing of your belief system, which starts to express itself through your behaviors without you even noticing? I don't know. But it does make a difference in your carriage and body language somehow.

Swearing also made me realize something really special about communication and the kinds of people who are put off by it. To illustrate this, let me tell you a story.

So back in the mid-2010s, I took a job at a Wells Fargo call center, during that period they were (ab)using their help line as sales opportunities. My boss was fucking mental. He would attack me constantly and wasn't beneath name-calling. He would shriek at me about nothing and whisper insults only I could hear. He was exceedingly cruel.

So one day I went back to my old workplace--Walmart--and saw a good friend/coworker smoking outside. I stopped to talk to him and told him my story, which was full of swearing, because holy fucking shit it was an awful experience. His eyes filled with tears for me, and he began swearing back in equal strength about this fucking asshole who was very truly mistreating me.

We started to walk back inside of the store as his break was nearing its end. A man in nice jeans and a business-casual long-sleeved shirt was just ahead of us. He stopped in front of us and said, "You know that kids are in this store, right?"

There's a face I like to call a "church smile." It's this oily, holier-than-thou, "I-am-praying-for-you", "you should know better", pitying expression, complete with a toothless up-turn of the lips and brows lifted and eyes slightly watery (preferable but not necessary). I assure you that any time someone gives it to you, they are about to try and drop what they think is a Truth Bomb. And, because it was a Wednesday night, and given the way the man was groomed and dressed, I could smell church all over him.

Remember. This whole time, my friend and I had been discussing in great detail how my boss had been mistreating me in some of the worst ways possible, including psychological abuse. And what bothered Mr. Church Man was the fact we used the word "fuck." Not that I was abused: "fuck." A kid might hear the word "fuck." MIGHT hear. Hadn't heard it, most assuredly--not from us, it was fuckin 9 PM. (Have they heard it on the bus and at school? Oh yes, at least 300,000 times. But we're not going to talk about that.)

He wasn't worried about ME at all. He was worried about theoretical people,* but he wasn't worried about the real flesh-and-blood person standing in front of him.

I realized at that moment that swearing was also a tool: how wrapped up is someone in how things LOOK over what they ARE? If you're upset about people being hurt, why aren't you upset about me actually being hurt? An appearance can absolutely instruct us in the identity of a thing, but it can also be used as shorthand to ignore complex multi-faceted issues.

And that's why I use profanity--and in my stories, other horrifying elements--to pinpoint exactly how clear a person's comprehension is. Are you worried about the hearts of real problems--that real people, complicated people who can be terrible, are being hurt? Or are you hurt that the world is not as perfect as you would like?

Are you worried about the right things?

So yeah, I'll keep swearing. Like all forms of communication, it's about where and how it's employed. But I will absolutely use it, and I love it. Sometimes it's a relief that civilized language can't provide.

And sometimes it's not just a personal expression.

Sometimes... just sometimes... it's a tool.

*We can argue that he wasn't upset about anyone, but rather for the sake of an ideal moral world that can never exist, but that's another discussion for another time.

#vvatchword

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harmony-of-the-gospels · 1 year

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Jesus—#56 “Blessing the Children”

Chapter 56: BLESSING THE CHILDREN

Read: MATTHEW 19:13-15; MARK 10:13-16; LUKE 18:15-17

1. How did Jesus relate to children? (511)

Young Children

“Jesus loved children. He accepted their childish sympathy and open, sincere love. The grateful praise from their lips refreshed His spirit when contact with crafty and hypocritical men oppressed Him. Wherever He went, His gentle, kindly manner won their confidence.”

All His Children (All Ages)

“The Saviour regards with infinite tenderness the souls whom He has purchased with His own blood. They are the claim of His love. He looks upon them with unutterable longing. His heart is drawn out, not only to the best-behaved children, but to those who have by inheritance objectionable traits of character. Many parents do not understand how much they are responsible for these traits in their children. They have not the tenderness and wisdom to deal with the erring ones whom they have made what they are. But Jesus looks upon these children with pity. He traces from cause to effect.”

(// ik in most cases, parents, like any other imperfect human beings did wrong and their children picked up on those, it stayed with them, and they inevitably became their parents. Exp: children who come from abusive homes. BUT in many other unknown statistically possible happenings to this type of problem is that, the kids will turn out even better than their parents – they managed to break the cycle and become a completely different person without any of the strikingly negative traits of their parents. It’s possible and I’ve seen it.

So is it entirely up to the parents? I think not. The individual has a lot to do with this as well. If there’s even a sliver of hope to get away from this ungodly household and the abusive environment, and that individual decided to go for it, brave himself or herself to make an escape for good, everything could change.

But what if it was a very hopeless situation? There are cases like these as well. All that individual can do is turn to God and hope for a miracle to happen because no matter how hard that person tries, his/her ordeals never end… until that person succumb to his/her injuries and dies… What can a little child do in that situation? There’s only so much that little frail body can take until it turns cold and lifeless for all the beatings and abuses… In situations like this, the people from the other side of the world can only hear the news of this individual’s passing and think, and pray about it because there’s not much we can do after that because it’s too late.

If it’s happening to you and you’re reading this, I hope you’ll find the help you need and be brave to take actions, God will fight for you when you call His Name, He’ll get you through it. If you know someone who’s going through this, I hope you don’t just pray about it, but also take courage and do something especially when that victim is asking for your help, be brave, God will be with you.

Back to the question here. If the parents are ungodly but the children are drawn to Christ, will they fully not adopt their parents’ traits? imo, there will be some learned traits that will stuck with you until you choose not to BE and change it. I believe all characters can be learned and unlearned for not only your own benefits but others as well)

2. How did the disciples relate to children? (511)

“When the mothers came to Jesus with their little ones, the disciples were not receptive. They thought these children were too young to benefit from a visit to Jesus, and they concluded that He would be displeased.”

3. When Jesus saw the disciples send away the mothers, what was His response? (512)

“He was displeased”,

“He waited to see how the disciples would treat them. When He saw them send the mothers away, He showed them their error, saying, “Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of heaven.” He took the children in His arms and gave them the blessing for which they came.”

4. How are today's mothers "to receive" Jesus' "words with the same faith" as the ones in His day? (512)

“The words of Christ strengthened the mothers and encouraged them to take up their burden with new cheerfulness. The mothers of today are to receive His words with the same faith. Christ is a personal Savior. He is as truly the helper of mothers today as when He gathered the little ones in His arms in Judea.”

“As the mother teaches her children to obey her because they love her, she is teaching them the first lesson in the Christian life. The mother’s love represents to the child the love of Christ, and the little ones who trust and obey their mother are learning to trust and obey the Savior.”

5. Give the ways in which Jesus will deal with the burdens and perplexities of a mother's life. (512)

“Jesus knows the burden of every mother’s heart. He made a long journey to relieve the anxious heart of a Canaanite woman. He gave back to the widow of Nain her only son, and in His agony on the cross He remembered His own mother. He is touched today by the mother’s sorrow. In every grief and need, He will give comfort and help.

He who said, “Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them” still invites mothers to lead their little ones to Him for blessing. Even the baby in its mother’s arms may live under the shadow of the Almighty through the faith of the praying mother. John the Baptist was filled with the Holy Spirit from his birth. If we will live in communion with God, we too may expect the divine Spirit to mold our little ones, even from their earliest moments.”

6. Describe what Jesus saw for the futures of the children brought to Him. (512)

“Jesus saw that some of the children who were brought in contact with Him would become martyrs for His sake. These children would accept Him as their Redeemer far more readily than many grown-up people would. The Majesty of heaven answered their questions and simplified His important lessons to meet their childish understanding.”

7. What ways did He use to reach the children's minds? (515)

8. How should parents relate to their children so they are receptive to the gospel? (515)

Mothers

Fathers

“Jesus was also the father’s example. His word had power, yet even with rude and violent men He did not use one unkind or discourteous expression. The grace of Christ in the heart will soften whatever is harsh and subdue everything that is coarse and unkind.”

Parents (General)

Ask Jesus for Forgiveness of Sins and Believe His Pardon

“Fathers and mothers should look on their children as younger members of the Lord’s family whom God has committed to them to educate for heaven. The Christian home becomes a school, with the parents as underteachers and Christ Himself the Chief Instructor.

We should teach our children to bring their sins to Jesus, asking forgiveness and believing that He pardons them, just as He received the children when He was personally on earth.”

Teach about Christ by Relating to Nature (Using Object Lessons)

“Teach the children to see Christ in nature. Take them out into the open air, under the noble trees, into the garden. In all the wonderful works of creation, teach them to see His love. He made the laws that govern all living things, and He has made laws for our happiness and joy. Do not weary them with long prayers and tiresome lectures, but through nature’s object lessons teach them to obey the law of God.”

“Parents, in training your children, study the lessons God has given in nature. If you want to train a rose or lily, how do you do it? Ask the gardener how he makes every branch and leaf develop in symmetry and loveliness. He will tell you: it was by no harsh touch, no violent effort. This would only break the delicate stems. It was by little attentions, often repeated. He moistened the soil and protected the growing plants from the fierce winds and scorching sun, and God caused them to blossom into loveliness. By gentle touches, seek to fashion the characters of your children after the pattern of the character of Christ.”

Accepting Christ as their Savior

“As you try to make plain the truths of salvation, point the children to Christ as a personal Savior. Angels will be by your side. The Lord will give grace to fathers and mothers to interest their little ones in the precious story of the Baby in Bethlehem.”

Lead by Example (Through Behavior) and Treat Others the Way You Want to Be Treated

“Do not keep the little ones away from Jesus by being cold and harsh. Never give them cause to feel that heaven will not be a pleasant place if you are there. Do not speak of religion as something that children cannot understand. Do not give the false impression that the religion of Christ is a religion of gloom, and that in coming to the Savior they must give up everything that makes life joyful.”

“It will lead fathers and mothers to treat their children as they themselves would like to be treated.”

Encourage the Expressions of Love

“Encourage the expression of love toward God and toward one another. The reason why there are so many hard-hearted men and women in the world is that true affection has been discouraged and repressed. Parents and perhaps others stifled the better nature of these persons in childhood. Unless divine love melts away their cold selfishness, their happiness will be forever ruined. If we want our children to possess the tender spirit of Jesus, we must encourage the generous, loving impulses of childhood.”

Work With the Holy Spirit. Teach the Children to Listen, Answer and Follow the Guide (Holy Spirit)

“As the Holy Spirit moves upon the hearts of the children, co-operate with His work. Teach them that the Saviour is calling them, that nothing can give Him greater joy than for them to give themselves to Him in the bloom and freshness of their years.”

9. "In working for the conversion of our children, ___ _______ ____ _____ ____ ________ ________ as the __________ _________ of ___________ of

_____. ____ is it __________ to _____ the ______ _____ _____ they are

__________." (515)

“In working for the conversion of our children, we should not look for violent emotion as the essential evidence of conviction of sin. Nor is it necessary to know the exact time when they are converted. We should teach them to bring their sins to Jesus, asking His forgiveness, and believing that He pardons and receives them as He received the children when He was personally on earth.”

10. How is Jesus the parent's example? (515)

11. What lessons can we learn from a gardener that can be applied to the treatment of children? (516)

12. "Encourage the ___________ of _____ _______ ____ and _______ ____ ________." (516)

“Encourage the expression of love toward God and toward one another.”

13. Why are there "so many hardhearted men and women in the world?" (516)

“The reason why there are so many hard-hearted men and women in the world is that true affection has been discouraged and repressed. Parents and perhaps others stifled the better nature of these persons in childhood. Unless divine love melts away their cold selfishness, their happiness will be forever ruined. If we want our children to possess the tender spirit of Jesus, we must encourage the generous, loving impulses of childhood.”

14. How can we teach "children to see Christ in nature?" (516)

“Take them out into the open air, under the noble trees, into the garden. In all the wonderful works of creation, teach them to see His love. He made the laws that govern all living things, and He has made laws for our happiness and joy.”

15. How must we NOT represent and teach the children about Jesus? (517)

“Do not weary them with long prayers and tiresome lectures, but through nature’s object lessons teach them to obey the law of God.”

16. By what means is a "Christian worker" to draw "children to the Saviour?" (517)

“The Christian worker may be Christ’s agent in drawing these children to the Saviour. By wisdom and tact he may bind them to his heart, he may give them courage and hope, and through the grace of Christ may see them transformed in character, so that of them it may be said, “Of such is the kingdom of God.”

#DAGuide

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noteguk · 4 years

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bad behavior | jjk | m

This is in the same universe as “bad influence.” It can, however, be read as a stand-alone.

— summary; in which staying late to volunteer at a self-help meeting was the best decision you made in a while.

— contents and warnings; smut, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, public sex (in a church…), dirty talk, fingering, degradation (name calling) but also praise, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, cum play, there is a window and also reflections, rough sex, cockwarming, jk being a lil shit because that’s his main personality trait, jk smokes (only mentioned), enemies to fuckbuddies: dawn of the first day

— words; 8.2k

— author’s note; for the anon that asked how their first time was like ;) join me as we explore the lore of this godforsaken couple

It was your mother’s idea for you to find a new place to volunteer. According to her, it had been a long time since you experienced “the invigorating energy of community work” — last time was when you were trying to level up your college application — and it could really “soothe your anxious soul” during the trying times of college finals. Apparently one tutoring program and two research projects weren’t enough to distract you, but you could see where she was coming from.

In the end, you accepted. The old places you used to volunteer in had either shut off their programs or were just too far away from college for you to consider. At first, you decided to follow your mother’s suggestion and tried to work with children — “small miracles”, as she called them — in a local daycare. Which ended up being a terrible idea.

You liked giving back to the community, you really did, but it wasn’t long until you realized that working with infants hasn’t been your wisest decision, and that children weren’t miracles at all. You got tired of going home covered in paint and with pieces of playdough entangled in your hair, and that was when you weren’t unlucky enough to get hit with other, less clean fluids.

So you eventually gave up — both on the daycare and on the faint idea of one day going into pediatrics — and searched for a new place. After having to yell your way through retirement homes, and getting fed up with washing people’s sidewalks, you finally settled in a program that was flexible and light enough for your intense college hours: preparing (and then later cleaning up) a room that was reserved in a local church for weekly meetings.

The entire ordeal took about two to three hours off your day, and more than half of it was spent as free time: waiting for the meeting to end, cramming piles of information in a small room next door. You didn’t really know what the meetings were about since they changed practically every month — they were, at first, a support group for teenage mothers, then it became an AA meeting, then a group for drug users trying to quit. Lately, you were starting to think that the church just gave away the room for whoever had the money to rent it, so it wasn��t a surprise when it was reserved for a motivational speaker to give confidence lessons.

You had researched the guy, some old dude with an unpronounceable name and a sketchy background, and found exactly the type of person you had expected. Yes, you were in the house of Christ, but you were still being heavily judgmental of the fact that he was giving those talks when he had no qualifications whatsoever, and was probably making bank off all the self-help books he regurgitated at least twice a year to prey on vulnerable people. You did share your worries with the administrative office of the church, but they ultimately fell on deaf ears, and you gave up on the idea of kicking his ass out of the holy grounds anytime soon.

It was after one of those pseudo-motivational talks that you walked into the empty room, ready to clean everything up before rushing back to your place, where your roommate had promised to greet you with some wonderful takeout. The chairs were still placed in a circle on the center of the room, where they had been since forever, and you made sure to align them perfectly before you moved on to the litter that had been thrown around the place.

One good thing about those self-help meetings was that they were a lot cleaner than a lot of other attendees, so the “picking up the trash until your back started to hurt” part passed by surprisingly fast. You had just moved on to the snack table, analyzing what you could still save, when your soul almost left your body.

“Hey, you,” you heard a known voice behind you. “What are you doing in here?”

You swiftly turned around, heart thumping violently against your ribcage. You didn’t know how you hadn’t let out the biggest, most blood-curdling scream ever, but that was just the first of many miracles of the night. “Jesus Christ,” you wheezed out, taking one hand to your chest. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like this.” You swallowed dry, some part of your brain recalling that he had asked you a question. “And I’m volunteering here.”

“I didn’t sneak up on you, you’re just jumpy.” Jungkook scoffed, leaning against the doorframe with that stupid playful smirk curling up on his lips. You didn’t know they allowed demons inside the church. “And of course you are.” He rolled his eyes.

Maybe a few months back, his mocking tone would’ve stung a bit more. However, you had been tutoring Jungkook for about three months then, suffering through endless sessions of his whining and complaining, and you’ve grown used to his passive-aggressive antics already. You learned that Jungkook was a shark seeking for blood, waiting for any crack that would allow him to jump into a perverse little joke — about how you behaved, your priorities, or even the color of your highlighter. You, of course, always stood your ground and threw his comments right back at him — which was his initial plan, as you’ve come to realize. Jungkook enjoyed playfully arguing with you, and you thought that it was another level of strangeness and masochism you simply didn’t have time to dissect.

Still, Jungkook (shockingly) wasn’t the terrible person you once thought he was. Every once in a while — when he was trying to talk you out of teaching him — the conversations you two would have were actually mostly pleasant, and he wasn’t awful to hang around when he dropped the whole badass persona to act like a real human being. You would even dare to say that Jungkook could be actually funny at times, and not in the bitter, sarcastic way he usually was. Sometimes, you dared to think, he could actually be reasonably nice. And also kind of cute. Even hot.

But you would never actually admit any of that out loud. Or even to yourself, really.

“And you?” You asked, turning back around to face the table full of half-eaten food. That looked like a battlefield, and you could already tell that there were only a few survivors left standing. “What are you doing here? Repenting?”

Jungkook chuckled dryly. “You wish. My parents want me to quit smoking,” he said. You could not see him, but you could hear him walking closer to you as you fumbled with the large Tupperware. “We settled on this crap instead of a forced intervention.”

You scoffed. Most of the food before you was unsalvageable — some of the cupcakes had been bitten once and then placed back, and you wondered how someone like that could function in society. “You don’t seem very motivated to quit,” you mumbled.

Jungkook clicked his tongue. “I don’t really care.”

His voice was much closer to you, and you felt the air leaving your lungs for a pitiful instant. You convinced yourself you had only gotten scared again. “You should care about the growing possibility of lung cancer.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not really on the top of my list of priorities at the moment.”

“And what is?” You asked.

“Amongst other things…” he trailed off and, suddenly, he was standing besides you, pointing at the chaotic pile of sweets. “I actually came back to grab another one of those cupcakes. The chocolate ones are great.”

You didn’t know why, but his comment broke the odd tension that you didn’t even know that was there, clicking you back into your previous mentality — the one that you just wanted to finish cleaning up so you could leave soon. “All yours,” you told him, “grab as many as you want.”

Jungkook hummed in satisfaction, reaching out to grab one special brown cupcake — an untouched one, thankfully. “I love when you talk dirty.” He almost moaned before shoving the cupcake inside his mouth, taking a huge bite off it. Dramatically, Jungkook rolled his eyes and sighed in delight. “These are fucking great.”

You chuckled, glancing at his direction. Jungkook was dressed in all black, like he usually was, and you were starting to recognize a newfound admiration towards his constant use of leather jackets. What? He looked good. “I’m glad the self-help sessions are paying off,” you commented, swiftly placing the cupcakes inside the transparent container.

Jungkook was paying attention to your actions now, like he noticed you were there working for the first time. “What are you doing with the rest?”

“The church will probably donate it, give it to the homeless or something.” You shrugged. “Or they’ll eat it, I don’t know. I just clean up the place and leave.”

Jungkook laughed at that, taking another monstrous bite from his cupcake and throwing himself on one of the nearby chairs. Your eye twitched a little at the thought that he had ruined your perfect circle, but you’d have to fix that on your way out. “Sounds absurdly boring,” he sang. “And they’re not even paying you.”

You sighed. “After all the places I’ve volunteered in, boring is a blessing,” you told him. You had just placed five hot dogs in the container, and you were starting to wonder if it would be a good idea to feed people in need with those suspicious sausages. “But, yeah, you probably don’t care about any of that.”

“You don’t know what I care about,” Jungkook said matter-of-factly. You didn’t know if he was trying to tease you, but his voice came out so soft and monotone that you couldn’t really be mad about it. It was true, after all: you didn’t actually know what he cared about. Sometimes you thought that he could read you better than you could read him. “Want me to stay here with you? This place is probably empty already.”

You could not hold back your laugh at that, turning around so you could look at him. “Are you offering to be my bodyguard? In a church?”

Jungkook pouted. There was a thin line of chocolate on the side of his lips, which he quickly licked clean. “I’m trying to be nice.”

You giggled, turning back towards the disgusting food. The rest was mostly trash, but you were happy enough with the amount you had managed to find in a good state. “That’s new.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked. “I’m always nice.”

“Always is a strong word.” You smiled, closing the lid of the Tupperware. You had managed to fill three small containers with the leftovers and, honestly, that was a big victory. “But you can stay or you can leave, I don’t mind. I’m almost done anyways.”

He frowned. “Is that your answer?”

You turned around. “What? You want me to beg for your company?” You smiled. “You’re mistaken if you think I’d ever do that.”

“I’m staying.” Jungkook crumpled up the piece of cupcake wrapping and threw it in the trash can besides your body. He watched you for a moment as you started to throw the leftovers away, your back turned to him and a distracted look on your face. When he broke the silence again, you were throwing the last piece of bread in the bin. “Why are you volunteering?”

“Because I like giving back to the community.”

Jungkook sneered at your words. “Seriously now. Don’t lie, we’re in a church.”

“I do, actually,” you stood your ground. There was a vague sound of crickets coming from the half-open window and the low buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you, but, other than that, the city was covered in absolute silence. Perhaps that was why you felt so at peace. “But my mom told me it would be a good thing to keep myself relaxed. You know, take my mind off college stuff.”

He hummed, and you heard him getting up from the chair. “You always do what your mom tells you?”

You met his gaze. “Didn’t your parents make you come here?”

He smiled. “Not the point.”

Before you could hold yourself back, your lips were curling up. Again: Jungkook wasn’t absolutely awful to be around when he actually acted like a human being. “When she says something I agree with, yes,” you told him. “My ego isn’t bruised when it comes to following someone’s idea.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying that mine is?”

“I didn’t say that.” You smirked and turned back to the table. You started piling up the used plastic cups, already eyeing all the used plates, forks and knives that you’d have to throw away. The daycare had better eating manners than that. “Thought we were talking about me.”

“We were,” Jungkook agreed. One of his inked hands moved to the table, and you were about to tell him that he could eat more of the cupcakes when you realized that he had started to reach for the discardable plates, throwing them away. You really didn’t think he’d help you. “Finals are coming up, though, and you care about that shit. Shouldn’t you be using this time to study or something?”

“I study while you’re out here listening to becoming your real self or, I don’t know... waking up the giant within,” you said. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

He hummed, his nose cringing up at the disgusting remains of food that stuck to the plastic forks. Jungkook seriously didn’t know how you could do that for fun. “You know there are better ways to relax than cleaning up a dusty room, right?”

“Probably,” you agreed. The cups were already in the trash, alongside with the plates, and there were only a few crumpled up napkins to get rid of before you tasted the sweet nectar of freedom. “But here I am. That’s what I chose for myself.”

“Literally any other option would’ve been better,” Jungkook pressed on. “Isn’t that obnoxious friend of yours in cheer or something?”

“Who? Jisoo?” You smiled at him. No one had ever called her obnoxious, but you couldn’t say that the title didn’t fit. Jisoo could be really… intense when it came to standing up for what she believed in. “She is. She invited me to join her already, if that’s what you’re gonna ask, but it’s not really my thing.”

“It’s a shame,” he mumbled, leaning against the table. It was a beautiful miracle how clean that room had become just by getting rid of the piles of gross food, and you had proudly thrown the last piece of paper inside the trash bin when Jungkook spoke up again. “You’d look really hot in that outfit.”

You stopped in your tracks, taking a second to digest the claim he had so mindlessly thrown your way. Just like all-things-Jungkook, a pleasant conversation could not last long, so you weren’t even surprised that he managed to ruin that talk with such a fuckboy-esque comment.

Also like all-things-Jungkook, he managed to awaken a reaction out of you that you didn’t even know could be there. With a faint heat in your cheeks and a frown blossoming amongst your features, you actually felt a little bit of... satisfaction with the fact that he thought that you’d look hot in that skimpy outfit. At the same time, you wanted to slap yourself for falling into his charms so easily.

In that conflicting turmoil of emotions, all you could say was a monotone, “You cannot be serious right now.”

Even if you kind of wanted him to be serious.

“I’m being dead serious,” Jungkook didn’t back down, much to the elation of your ego. You felt like a schoolgirl being recognized by her crush, and the idea alone made your stomach curl onto itself. What the hell were you even thinking about? Yeah, Jungkook was pretty hot, but he was also kind of a douche and you didn’t want to get involved with that mess of a person. Or at least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I mean…” he continued, “you’re even rocking this knee-level dress right now, can’t even imagine how you’d look if—“

“You can shut up now, Jungkook, thanks,” you interrupted him. Because you didn’t know how to act when he was so blatantly flirting with you, you switched back to the same passive-aggressive behavior that you had given him for the past three months. Call it self-preservation, call it panic, but your mind simply didn’t know where to go from there. “And I’m also done here, so you can skidaddle back to whatever swamp you came out of.”

“Awn, don’t be mean, princess.” He pouted. Jungkook was a master at getting you worked up, and you had just given that to him on a silver platter. Maybe if you had mock-flirted back, he would’ve baked away. You would never know. “I was just fucking with you, you’re too easy to tease.”

You pressed your lips together, hip touching the corner of the now empty table. “You were pretty much harassing me,” you said playfully.

“I was not.” Jungkook smirked, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his pants. When had the two of you gotten so close? There was barely any space between your chests. “But it’s okay, I’m not gonna compliment you anymore, don’t worry. You don’t have to be so defensive.”

“I’m not being defensive,” you said, defensive.

“What, is it the church setting?” He raised his eyebrows, taking a look around. “Is it making you uncomfortable?”

“No,” you answered, crossing your arms before your chest. Jungkook followed the movement and his gaze got stuck on the shape of your breasts for a second too long, making a newfound wave of heat rise up to your cheeks. “Not as much as you’re trying to make me uncomfortable right now.”

He chuckled. “You do look cute when you’re shy,” Jungkook teased, taking a step towards you, and you took another one back, pretending you were just going to lean against the table. You sat on it in a weird diagonal position, with one leg still on the ground and the other dangling over the edge. Jungkook was so close that, when he spoke again, voice just above a whisper, you could feel his breath on your skin. “If you don’t want me here, just ask me to go and I’ll go.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. The atmosphere was filled with electricity, your body drowning in the warmth of his presence, the sharp seriousness in his dark eyes, and you could not bring yourself to say anything. Did you want him to leave?

No, you realized in a rush of adrenaline, you didn’t want him to leave at all.

Jungkook raised one of his eyebrows. “Hm? Nothing?” He smirked, placing himself between your legs. Every nerve of your body was screaming for you to touch him, to just wrap his mouth with yours, and you simply could not respond to any of its commands. “You’re full of surprises.”

You found your voice at that comment, heart hammering against your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.” Jungkook placed one strand of your hair behind your ear, his gaze flickering down to your chest. From where he stood, he could see the beautiful mounds of your breasts peeking under the fabric, licking his lips at the sight. “Can I at least say that I like your dress?”

Jungkook’s palm slithered up your knee before you could even react, moving towards your inner thigh and raising your dress along with it. His touch was electrifying, and you found yourself craving more of it, a sigh caught on your throat at the tenderness of his hot skin.

“Something tells me that your compliment isn’t so innocent,” you told him, leaning your head back slightly so you could hold his gaze. “Aren’t you gonna complete that and say that I would look better without it?”

Jungkook chuckled. “The idea is compelling, I’ll admit it,” he said, rubbing soft circles on your skin. His other hand slithered around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “But don’t need to take it off to fuck you.”

Your eyes grew wide at that, brain short-circuiting. You frankly couldn’t believe that was happening — the fact that Jungkook was so shamelessly trying (and honestly succeeding) to initiate sex with you. In a fucking church too, of all places. “What- what did you say?”

“You heard what I said.” His stare didn’t falter. Jungkook was looking at you like he could eat you whole, and you seriously wouldn’t mind if he tried to. You'd deal with the social and psychological implications of that another time. “Just tell me to stop and I’ll do it, princess. No hard feelings, promise.”

This time, you spoke out and the firmness and certainty in your voice surprised even yourself. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“No?” His voice sounded like honey, so deep and melodic even through the thick layers of his sarcasm. You had never heard him get so serious, so focused, and the thought that it was all for you was igniting a fire inside your guts. “You wanna get fucked in a church?”

You bit your lip, blinking up at him. The point was: you wanted Jungkook, of all people, to fuck you. The fact that it was in a church was just the cherry on top, and you didn’t care about it as much as you should — your mom would be weeping blood if she knew what was going on, but you weren’t planning on telling anything to anybody. “And what if I do?” You asked back teasingly.

Jungkook smiled, knocking the breath right out of you. You could only hope that you didn’t look as horny as you felt, because your pride was still on the line. “Told you that you were full of surprises.” He pushed one of your legs open, making you lose your support on the floor. Now, both of your feet were dangling off the edge, body trapped between his strong arms and thighs on either side of him. “Are you a virgin, baby?”

You shook your head, and your voice reached you a bit later. “No.”

“Naughty,” Jungkook said, leaning in. He stared at you like a lion stalking its prey, his gaze lingering on your parted lips before, at last, he tilted his head to the side, deciding to move towards your neck instead. “But if you have the taste I think you do, you probably had some lame missionary sex with some goodie-two shoes.”

When he started kissing your neck, you almost forgot to give him a response. You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan, instead producing a low, shaky sigh. “And if I did? What’s the problem with some lame missionary sex?”

“No need to get mad, I’m on your side here,” Jungkook said, one of his hands navigating up your waist, between the valley of your breasts, before grabbing your boob. That time, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped you. “Did he make you cum?”

“Sometimes,” you said, slightly flustered. You didn’t think you’d be discussing your sexual history with Jungkook, but, well, there you were. “He was alright.”

“Only sometimes?” Jungkook chuckled, the vibrations of his deep timbre vibrating through the sensitive skin of your neck, his thumb grazing your nipple. The heat between your legs only grew, your entire body practically begging to feel more of him. “That’s a shame, I could do better.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start getting cocky.”

“I never stopped being cocky,” he responded without hesitation. Well, he was right. “And I do have a good track record.”

“Doubt it,” you said, the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips. You knew that you were playing a dangerous game, pressing right at the weak spots of his inflated ego to see how he would react. Perhaps you’d be luckier trying to poke a bear with a short stick. “You wouldn’t know the difference between a real and fake orgasm even if it hit you in the face.”

Jungkook leaned back and looked at you for an instant. You knew he had caught onto your challenge straight away. He liked it as much as you did, there was no doubt about that. “Let’s see, shall we?” he asked. There was no denying the devilish aura that was all around him now, suffocating you with its tempting heat. “How long do we have?”

“I’m locking up the room tonight,” you said, watching as his eyes sparked with an emotion you could not decipher. “But I wanna get home before ten. Have homework.”

You could see him fighting against the natural urge to ridicule you for saying something like that at such an odd time, but, at the end, he managed to avoid it. “More than enough time.” Jungkook placed one hand on the back of your neck, gaze darting hungrily toward your lips. “Come here.”

And then his mouth was on yours, and everything else was white noise. Jungkook kissed you much slower than you had anticipated, taking his sweet time caressing your mouth with his; hands exploring the curves of your body and teasing their way underneath your dress. He sighed heavily against your mouth when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, his soft tongue poking out and entering your mouth perfectly. Jungkook was a good kisser, you had to admit it, and he got your knees weak sooner than you’d like.

His body was hot and firm against yours and you could feel the outline of his abs underneath your fingers as you trailed your hands down his torso; his quick heartbeat drumming on your palms. Jungkook’s breathing got heavier as you hooked your fingers on the hem of his pants and tugged him toward you. Instantly you noticed the outline of his hard cock against your inner thigh.

Then, something switched. Just as you had reached out to touch his hardness, squeezing it lightly underneath your fingers, Jungkook groaned against your mouth and bit down on your lip. You had barely any time to react before he was pulling away from the kiss, gaze darkening.

“Such a tease,” he mumbled hoarsely, his breath hitting your mouth in soft waves. His hand was hovering over your heat, his middle finger pressing down on your sensitive nub, making you whimper. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

Jungkook was much quicker than your thoughts and, within a second, the motion of your panties being pushed aside made you fumble closer to him; your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders when he finally decided to touch you.

“Fuck,” he groaned next to your ear, making your mind go blank for a split second. The teasing motions of his digits brushing your entrance were enough to make you whimper, hips thrusting forward in a failed attempt to make him move further. “Look at this, you’re soaking my fingers. Wanna get fucked that bad?”

But he didn’t let you respond. The sudden intrusion of two fingers inside your pussy made your back arch, nails digging in the leather of his jacket as Jungkook opened you up. “I—” you tried to speak, but it was hard to think when he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. The sounds of your wetness were a filthy symphony filling the quiet atmosphere. “Jungkook, what—”

“God, that’s so tight,” he groaned, speaking through clenched teeth. His voice was enough to shut you up at the spot, a frail moan dripping from your lips. “Relax, baby, you’re too tense. Let me take care of you, alright?”

You nodded, eyes drifting shut as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. You hated to admit it, but Jungkook was already winning against your ex by a long shot: the way his digits brushed inside you, gradually moving apart to stretch you, got you searching — begging — for more. You were sure you could cum around his fingers and, when he curled them up and they dragged against your sweet spot, the idea became a lot more palpable.

“Jungkook, you’re taking too long, I’m gonna cum like this,” you complained, chest rising and falling under the waves of your upcoming orgasm. You could feel it building up in your stomach, ready to snap, and you didn’t want it to happen around his fingers. “I wanna feel you.”

Jungkook breathed out at your needy request, placing a kiss against your jaw. “I’m just getting you ready for my cock, baby,” he said. A loud moan dripped from you when he unceremoniously added a third finger, your legs trembling on either side of his body. “I don’t know if you can take it.”

You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, only half aware of the fact that your voice sounded more like a whimper than a serious comment. “I can.”

He smirked wickedly. You really were pushing his buttons. “We’ll see about that,” Jungkook responded.

Within a second, right as your orgasm was about to wash over you, he removed his fingers from your pussy. The frustrated moan you let out was quickly swollen by him, his mouth rogue against yours and the sweetness of his tongue intoxicating you — probably those stupid cupcakes, you thought.

“Turn around for me,” he asked.

You quickly did as he requested, putting your feet on the ground before turning your back to him, hands leaning on the table. Jungkook placed one hand on the curve of your spine, pushing you down until you had your chest against the surface, ass perked up and pussy in full display for him. There was a gush of cold air against your flesh when he pulled up the fabric of your dress and tossed it over your waist, exposing your lower body for him.

The boy hummed at the sight, one of his legs kicking your feet apart so he could position himself in the middle of your thighs. “You’re pretty all around,” Jungkook commented, one of his palms grazing your asscheek before grabbing it. His motion was harsh, needy; earning a whimper from you. “Knew you would be.”

Through the dense clouds of your desire, there was still some part of you that managed to make fun of that situation. “You spend your free time thinking about my ass?”

“Won’t answer until I have a lawyer present,” he joked.

You felt his fingers hooking around the fabric of your panties, pushing it further to the side so you had your cunt fully exposed for him to see. The drumming of your heartbeat almost drowned out the low groan he produced at the sight of your flushed heat.

“Princess, your pussy is dripping so much…” Jungkook trailed off, one of his fingers tracing a line between your lips. He felt the urge to eat you out, to lick you completely clean and make you cum on his tongue, but he decided that would have to wait for a different time. “Is this all for me?”

“Yeah, all for you,” you said, weak. There was a thundering exasperation building up inside you, motivated from your denied orgasm and from the way that Jungkook was taking his sweet time.

“Good girl,” he mumbled and your chest was filled with pride. “Can’t wait to fuck it.”

“Then don’t wait,” you practically begged. “Just rush.”

He removed his finger from your heat. “Shh… be patient,” Jungkook told you and you swore you could practically hear the smile in his voice. You could hear him shuffling behind you, the sound of his zipper opening echoing around that still room. “I’m gonna give you whatever you want.”

You whined at the abrupt feeling of his warm cock rubbing between your folds, its tip hitting your clit after every languid thrust. “Fuck,” you cried out, shaky. Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said that he was big, his length was so thick that you were starting to get second thoughts whether you could take it or not. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. “Just put it in, Jungkook.”

But Jungkook was having way more fun just teasing you. “Pussy’s so wet for me.” He breathed out, his hands tightening around your hips. You felt him throb between your folds, and the sensation got you searching for air. “You’re soaking my cock, baby. You want it that much?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Jungkook hummed, leaning in so he could place a kiss on your shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, princess,” he promised, his length still rubbing between your folds. He was so hard and heavy that your mind was spinning, your lungs drowning in expectation. “Gonna fuck you so well that you’re never going to forget it. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” your voice was a pathetic moan, and you hated your body for betraying you so easily. “Yes, please.”

After another pec on your shoulder, Jungkook leaned back. “Be loud for me, alright?” He asked. “Can you do that for me?”

You swallowed hard — what were the chances that someone would hear you? You had no idea. “Yeah, whatever you want, just fuck me.”

“Whatever I want? That’s a dangerous thing to say.” He moved around behind you, making you flinch when you felt his cock align with your dripping entrance. The anticipation was driving you insane. “Might have to see if you’re up for it another time.”

There was an answer somewhere in your mind — you could swear there was — but it was quickly forgotten the second that Jungkook pushed himself inside you. The drag of his cock was a delicious torture, streching you out and filling you up to the brim until you were shaking under his touch, both of you moaning at the sensation.

“Oh my god.” You breathed out, hands turning into fists on the table. Your cheek was pressed against the polished wood, hot breath creating small white clouds on the surface.

Jungkook released a shaky sigh when he felt you clenching around him, your body desperately trying to move closer to him. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, his hands holding onto your hips for dear life. Gradually, he moved himself away from your pussy just so he could slam back inside, marveling on the way you trembled at the feeling, crying out his name in the prettiest of whimpers. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Squeezing my cock so well.”

Took you only an instant to realize that you were absolutely addicted to the feeling of his cock inside you, the heavenly push of his hardness in and out of you as he slowly started to set a pace. “Oh my god, I’m—” a pitiful hiccup interrupted you, turning your voice into a sharp cry. “That’s so good, Jungkook.”

Jungkook chuckled behind you, his thrusts starting to pick up speed. Your eyes closed in endless bliss, every part of your brain focused on the sensation of his fat length stretching you up. “Told you I’d be, not my fault you didn’t believe me,” he said, but you could tell that his confidence had started to wear itself thin — he, too, seemed to be much more focused on the way that your bodies met. “Do you touch yourself, princess?”

You almost didn’t know how to answer him, a deep heat rushing up to your cheeks. “W-What?”

“When you’re alone, baby,” he practically hissed. You were bouncing on the table then, your body jerking up and down as he fully pistoned his cock inside your heat. “Do you play with your little pussy?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, embarrassed. “S-Sometimes.”

“Show me how you do it,” he requested in-between huffs, lust dripping from every syllable. Jungkook spoke to you like a siren, effortlessly inducting you to comply with everything he wanted. “Come on. Don’t be shy, I wanna see you play with yourself for me.”

You didn’t even know if what you were feeling was shyness, but there was a veil of hesitation that covered your actions. As your hands moved downwards, one of them clenching around the fabric of your dress and pulling it up while the other trailed over your mound, you felt strangely vulnerable, exposed. At the same time, you wanted to do what he asked you to, wanted him to wash you over with compliments until your mind was going blank.

So you closed your eyes and focused on the sensation of two of your fingers coating themselves in your wetness, then their pressure on your clit. You whined at the feeling, pleasure exploding in your veins as you started to rub yourself, tracing small circles on your sensitive spot. There was no way you could ever reach that sensation again, the sweet motions of your fingers combining perfectly with the thrusts of his hard, fat cock inside you. You were doomed.

“That’s it… just like that, baby,” Jungkook whispered, obsessed with the sensation of your walls fluttering around him. You had gotten so tight that he thought he would see heaven at any second now. “Feels good?”

“Y-Yeah, so good...” you struggled to get out, “feels amazing, Jungkook.”

“So perfect for me,” his praise shot straight up to your core, making you mewl under him. God, the way that you were tightening around him was going to drive him insane. “You feel so fucking good, I can’t stop fucking you.”

Jungkook took one of his hands to your neck, using it to guide your body upwards until you had your back pressed against his chest; his hot lips assaulting your neck. The new position made it so much easier for his cock to drill inside you, reaching even deeper and hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. It wasn’t long before you were moaning out, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overtook you.

“Just take a look at that, baby,” his voice broke you out of your hypnotized state. “Look at you. Such a good slut, just taking everything I’m giving you, touching yourself for my cock… fuck. Could watch you like this forever.”

You had to take a moment to understand what he was talking about, and then you saw it: the window. It stood silently across the room from you, half open, and the glass combined with the darkness of the night gave a perfect reflection of the two of you. You could see yourself, the mess you had become, as Jungkook pounded in and out of you and your fingers worked on your clit; the darkness of his hungry gaze as he followed the motions of your body against his.

Even if you cried out at the sight, your body freezed up a little at the thought of someone walking by and seeing that private spectacle. The possibility itself was minimal — the window gave way to the side of the land, where a big, thick fence separated it from the nearby houses; most of the ground covered by large trees and bushes — but it wasn’t zero. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the humiliation that would come from being seen like that.

He, of course, noticed your change of demeanor right away, and you could see in the faint reflection that he had smirked at that realization. “What is it? Are you worried someone is going to walk by?” Jungkook almost groaned against your ear. His cock continued to pump ferociously in and out of you, and you couldn’t even understand your own thoughts for a moment. “That someone is gonna see you get fucked like a good slut?”

“It’s not—” a moan cut your sentence short. Not like you knew where you were heading, anyways.

“No one is gonna see you like this, know why?” Jungkook was grunting, his fingers tightening around your throat. You cried out at the feeling, your cunt clenching around him in a way that got him fucking you even harder. “Cause this is all for me. Just for me.”

Then he was pushing you back on the table, your chest crashing against the wooden surface and his hands yanking you by the waist. Jungkook was fucking you so hard that your worries left you as soon as they arrived, your mind a turmoil of desires and broken exclamations that didn’t give space to anything else but him.

“You look fucking gorgeous like this, stuffed with cock,” he marveled at the sight. There was a known wave of pleasure hovering over you, ready to crash at any given moment, and you stopped rubbing yourself just so you could prolong its arrival. “Wanna see you cum for me, make a mess for me, baby.”

The words left you in a confusing, broken order, “Jungkook, I can’t… too much… can’t...”

“Shhh, you can,” he was slowly easing you into your orgasm, his cock drilling in and out of your pussy. Jungkook fucked like a machine, fast and precise, and you didn’t think you’d be able to forget that anytime soon. “You told me you could take it, so now you’re gonna take it. Don’t you wanna be good for me?”

“I- I want to… I’m so close,” you cried out, pressing your forehead against the table. You didn’t know how it hadn’t broken yet, with the way that Jungkook was fucking you so mercilessly hard. “I’m so, so close.”

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he urged you on, his member throbbing inside you at the thought. Your legs were so weak that you knew you’d fall facedown on the floor if he wasn’t supporting your weight with his strong arms. “Be a good girl and cream my cock for me.”

And that was it. That was all that you needed to push yourself over the edge, submerging you in ecstasy and making you squeeze him so deliciously. “J-Jungkook!” You moaned out his name again and again, unsure of how loud you were being, but also not caring as much as you should. Jungkook realized he loved hearing you call his name more than anything else. “Fuck! Oh my god!”

“That’s it, baby,” he moaned back, his thrusts a sloppy, uncoordinated mess. He was hypnotized by the view of your cunt hugging him, your wetness dripping down your thighs as you rode out the last seconds of your orgasm. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect— gonna cum too.”

You gasped out at the sensitivity that was starting to spread, every movement shaky as you tried to push yourself against him. “Yes, please.” You looked over your shoulder, meeting his hooded gaze. Jungkook looked like a god, his dark hair sweaty and messy and his lip trapped between his teeth. That image would plague you forever. “Cum inside me, please.”

He groaned loudly, eyes closing for a second. “Fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” he hissed, chest heaving with anticipation. You knew he was close, everything pointed to that, and all that you wanted was to see him reach his high, using your body like it was just a doll for him to fuck. “Didn’t know you’d want to be filled up with cum, princess.”

“I’m full of surprises.” You smiled — a pretty, fucked-out smile that got Jungkook grunting like a madman. “I want your cum inside me, Jungkook, please.”

“Gonna fuck you full of my cum, don’t worry— Shit.” The sounds he was making were heavily: those breathy, high-pitched moans that echoed all around you; broken by deep grunts that had your thighs shaking. Jungkook fucked himself in you like he was meant for it, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he finally found his orgasm. “Fuck! That’s it, fuck—”

Jungkook called out your name and mixed it with praises and curses when he came, spilling himself inside your pussy. You sighed at the feeling, taking in the blissful sensation of having his hot cum spilling out of you, dripping down your legs as he continued to thrust inside you, milking out his orgasm.

At last, he started to wince from sensitivity. His body collided against your back, his heavy breathing fanning your neck as he tried to collect himself. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbled, “you’re amazing.”

“You’re not so terrible yourself.” You could not help the smile that appeared on your lips, nor the way that you melted against the surface of the table, drowning in his heat.

Still, you couldn’t stay there for much longer: it was already a miracle that no one heard the chaos going on in that room, and you weren’t trying to push your luck for the night. Especially since you had a pile of homework (and possibly — now cold — takeout) waiting for you at home.

You raised your body, leaning against your elbows. “I have to leave,” you told him, taking one of your hands to lay on top of his tattooed one, trying to ease his grip from your waist. “Now if you could just…”

“Shhh, shhh,” Jungkook hushed, unrelenting. He was much stronger than you, and your muscles were too weak for you to try and do much, so you eventually gave up. “Stop moving. Let me feel you around me for just a bit more.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“I like it,” he said simply. His breath was a faint caress against the skin of your neck, and you didn’t have much fight left in you. “We all have our tastes.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so weird.”

“Don’t kinkshame.” Jungkook pouted, then pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “You just begged me to fuck you in a church, remember?”

“Yeah, I guess I don’t have much place to judge.” You laughed dryly, then looked over your shoulder. “Why is your cock still hard? How long is this gonna take?”

Jungkook groaned, clearly annoyed. “Shut up and enjoy the moment.”

The so-called moment lasted about two more minutes (which was kind of impressive, you thought) before Jungkook softened and slipped out of you. You hated to admit but you kind of liked the feeling of having him still inside you, completing you as his lips danced around your neck; fingers tenderly playing with your hair. You never thought Jungkook would be so gentle after fucking you like that, but you guessed that you weren’t the only one that was full of surprises.

Jungkook, apparently, also liked to admire his work. After he had slipped out of you, he made you sit back on the table just so he could stare at his own cum dripping out of you, a glimmer of satisfaction in his dark gaze. He had pushed his white release back inside you and smirked up at you, asking, ever so kindly, for you to go home like that, filled with his cum.

You, of course, promptly accepted it.

“By the way,” he called when you two had already stepped out of the church, enveloped by the coldness of the night. There was only one solitary light pole illuminating his features, making him look like one of the saints in the chapel — nothing but fake advertisement, in your opinion. “Wanna know how much I got in that immunology test?”

“How much?” You asked.

“Eighty two.” Jungkook smiled brightly then, and you found yourself joining him. “Never saw a grade so high in my life. And that counts all the times I’ve cheated too.”

“Seems like the tutoring sessions are paying off.” You crossed your arms before your chest, the hem of your dress swirling around your knees. The night was weirdly peaceful after everything that had taken place.

“They are.” He nodded. “I’m looking forward to the next one. Helps that my tutor is kind of a hottie too.”

You scoffed. “So I’ve heard.”

“And, by the way?”

“Yeah?”

“You would look better without it.” He pointed at your dress, a sly smile already sprouting on his lips. “Hope to see it next time.”

“Good night, Jungkook.” You rolled your eyes, already turning around — yeah, like there would ever be a next time.

BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

TAGLIST:

@taehyungieskith @fan-ati--c @btstrasht @crazy4myself @sashimi-mochi @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #bad boy au #smut #reader insert #bts x you #bts x reader #bad boy jungkook #bts au #jungkook au #series #pwp #fluff

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beadyeyes · 2 years

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hi silly question but do u have any favorite tropes/elements u use in character design…

I loveeee reading about tropes and archetypes it's honestly ridiculous. I have always liked picking out flaws, tropes, traits, etc; just to smash them together just to see what kinda new stuff develops from it, how to keep it going, or even how to subvert it... I've noticed that my most repeating tropes (usually by accident) are:

Blonde villain / Evil (blonde) twins. I just think blonde white people are scary😣

[INDEX] with a heart of gold. Anti anti christ. Sheep in wolf's clothing. I love appearance/ approachabilty not being an indication of morality or personality❤

The opposite side of ^this coin would be Cute is evil, Beauty is bad, Face of an Angel, and so on...

Cruel to be kind, Cruel mercy, Token evil. Interesting dynamics. In return I also love things like The dog bites back, Pay evil unto evil, and of course. Karma

DARK IS NOT EVIL‼‼ The scared darkness, light / pure is not good, black and white insanity, etc. Absolutely most common tropes by far and I have no shame admitting it. I rarely present Good Light vs. Evil Dark type issues for my charactes. They're just so fcking overblown and stupid....

Ok I stopping there this will steal my entire day if I let it

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thatguy3331 · 3 years

Text

Digimon Ghost Game Episode 1 - 13 impressions

For the first time in a good while an honest to goodness new digimon season with a new cast & set up! How do I like it so far? Well strap in cuz I have a lot to say, so much that I honestly even spooked myself!

jesus christ, it’s 5am my eyes are burning, I’m so tired, why did I do something that’d be rendered so useless so soon why

To start off with something positive right off the bat, I really like the partner digimon this season as well as their dynamics with their respective human partners. Gammamon is a fun throwback to Guilmon that doesn't feel like a carbon copy of him, as Gammamon is more like a surrogate little brother to Hiro than a pet who can spit fire balls. Episode 2 is great in showcasing how Hiro goes out of his way to learn how Gammamon ticks to the best of his abilities, and the fact that he’s more or less constantly around him or is left in the care of dorm leader Kiyoshiro are all great in establishing and reiterating Gammamon as this toddler like existence, one that greatly juxtaposes a later development with him. Angoromon by contrast is perhaps the most mature child level digimon partner we’ve seen since perhaps Renamon, his calm and gentle nature making him a great contrast to Gammamon, a fitting partner/protector to Ruli and just all around a good person to have on your side. He’s very friendly, reliable and respectful but not necessarily close to anyone in particular even Ruli, which is a surprisingly understated aspect of his character that may go into explaining why he hasn’t reached his adult form yet (lets stick a pin in that). Lastly, Jellymon is very much in the middle, more mature and self realized than Gammamon, but way more brash, rude and juvenile compared to Angoromon, she’s sort of like Terriermon if you cranked up all of his more trouble making traits and didn’t pair him with someone who could actually reel him in. Her childish schoolgirl crush on Kiyoshiro leading into her messing with him walks a fine line of being both funny and informative of her character without getting too creepy with it. Her being so chaotic also means she can go off somewhere and come back home with problems for the rest of our team to deal with, which is amusing not just for everyone being stumped on what to do with her, but also whenever she does get her comeuppance for being a lil shit (light as it may be.)

As for our Human cast, for Kid show leads I think they’re all solid bases that could really shine when they (hopefully) get further development and progression. Each are likable and distinct from each other, but not all of them always feel utilized as well as they could be. Hiro is introduced to us as chill to a fault and perhaps a bit too clever by half, knowing how to pick locks but each time he does, it seems to be for some dumb shit that could get him trip downtown if you catch my drift (do people still use that as a phrase to mean getting arrested anymore?). There is a potential point of interest with regards to him easily accepting requests and how that may or may not feed into his overall treatment of the various monsters of the week, as he pretty much never has Gammamon try to defeat his enemies, but more so keeping them at bay long enough to reach a fairly peaceful resolution. Nothing much has been said in the show by anyone on this yet, as his character is more or less put on autopilot for these run of episodes which wouldn’t be too big of an issue, (he’s connected to mysteries that are sure to be touched on later), if not for one problem: Kiyoshiro.

Kiyoshiro is a paradox, at once a dynamic attention grabbing character and also perhaps an accidental thorn in the show’s side. He and Jellymon are easy scene stealers given their more boisterous personalities, as well as the two’s respective archetypes giving the audience a pretty clear window in which to see how these characters will progress over the course of the show’s run. In Kiyoshiro’s case it’s his cowardly disposition in contrast with his Chunibyou tendencies, which obviously speak to the kind of confidence he wants to have more naturally. It’s displayed in a way that makes us laugh and is put front and center any chance the show gets. Really he’s the sort of character that seems to highlight the plainness of the other characters, which makes Hiro look less interesting in comparison, but it’s kind of worse for Ruli. Much as I like the contributions Ruli’s character brings to the group, it’s sort of hard to get a read on what exactly the show wants to do with her character. We know that she has an interest in rumors and ghost stories and likes to visit the various “haunted spots” for her blog (but becomes uninterested in any given incident once it’s revealed to be related to digimon) but it’s not quite clear what this is really in service of for her beyond just being an hobby. Episode 11 potentially reveals that she may have issues with... loneliness? She didn’t drag her friends to go sightseeing with her so it seems unlikely that being alone in and of itself is the issue... or is it? I honestly don’t know. I actually like the episode this aspect of her appeared in but I do wish we got to spend more time with her distinctive characteristics, as compared to Hiro and especially Kiyoshiro, she feels like the weakest link of the 3 character wise.

Part of what doesn’t help is how each of the episodes choose to spend their time. GG being a horror themed show, not an actual horror mind you that’s a very different thing, spends a fair bit of each episode’s run building up the menace of the digimon of focus and the problems they cause. This is fine to a point as these are fairly fun light scares that play off of film tropes, but it can often get to a point where these scenes happen less to establish things and giving us clues as to what's going on, and more are just there for the sake of itself, causing the show to feel like it’s spinning its wheels. Episode 7 for example has a lot of time is spent focusing on the birds terrorizing the town, rather than letting us understand how our characters are going about trying to figure out the problem only to give a quick throw away explanation to add to younger viewer’s lexicon. By the time we do get back with them it’s basically just to face off against the mon of the week and it leads to a pretty boilerplate evolution debut that doesn't leave much of an impact. Oh also some random guy is also there and he barely contributes anything to the episode. Basically, after episode 5, we enter stories that are less about building the characters and more about what ever one off story the show can belt off, and unfortunately it’s not always worth the trade off. This isn’t to say every episode is bad per say, personally I only have 3 I outright dislike (Episodes 6, 7 and 9) but it speaks to how we’re 13 episodes into the show and it feels like I only know our leads on a fairly surface level. By this point I feel like some more interesting quirks should have popped up to give us a peek into what may be in store for them later down the line.

Well ok we do get one but… I don’t really like it, Kiyoshiro’s Integer overflow, which I initially was kind of alright with it existing as Kiyoshiro is set up as our resident chicken shit… only for it to be used really poorly later in the very same episode and really damaged my emotional connection to Jellymon’s evolution debut. Jellymon has a whole ass speech about how she actually cares about Kiyoshiro and how they’re stronger together… only for Kiyoshiro to be unconscious during the whole thing, wake up, and somehow still be of the same mind as Jelly to initiate and evolution… yeah, sure. Ok. It just feels like a cheap plot device to effectively “turn off” Kiyoshiro to have him not be involved in any given story beat, build “dramatic tension” and then have him wake up and pull his best Zenitusu impression. It only makes me feel like we aren’t going to get an super compelling nuanced arc for him, but rather, a painfully straight forward “yadda yadda believe in your self kid, also here are some titties.” kind of arc, just replace titties with a sassy Jellyfish.

The other major issue I have with Ghost Game so far isn’t that we haven’t gotten a clear image on the plot per say, but rather Ghost Game has not given me the confidence that it will be able to execute overarching narrative threads well. In my least favorite episode of the show, episode 9, Clockmon reappears after being gone for 8 episodes, and he begins to haunt Hiro, messing up his sense of time… only for the episode to stop dead in it’s tracks as we’re suddenly introduced to Bokomon and his assistant as they provide us with an explanation as to how the hologram ghosts actually work. Then when the story remembers that Clockmon is in the episode, we get a rushed and haphazard ending that sees Clockmon eat his own medicine, Hiro and Gammamon deciding to save him via a super awkward sequence, and having Clockmon suddenly become a good guy. On paper these series of events aren’t necessarily bad (well except the beating up Clockmon to save him part seriously what) but it happens so fast and without any further insight into Clockmon as a character, that there’s basically zero satisfaction in his reintroduction or reformation. He disappears for so long only to come back and more or less do the exact same thing he did in episode one with nothing extra of substance. Yay.

Also lets talk about Hologram ghosts for a second. When the show starts we aren’t given any explanation as to how they work minus a minor clue in episode 2. In episode 4, Angoromon gives Hiro and the audience an explanation on how they work, to the best of his ability. At this point the audience only has what Angoromon has explained to work off on… only for it to be heavily contradicted both before and after said explanation. For weeks, I assumed this must have simply been a series of plot holes, which might seem like a bizarre accusation if not for one thing: Neither Hiro nor Angoromon ever say anything when a Digimon as a hologram ghost contradicts what we’ve been told of them before. Ghost game utterly fails at making the hologram ghosts a tantalizing mystery because none of our cast members show any curiosity or interest in figuring out how exactly they interact with their world after episode 4. It’s frustrating because this could have so easily been a point of interest for audience members, ESPECIALLY the kids at home watching. Like how much effort would it have possibly been to give Hiro, or really anybody, a moment or two to just say “Hey, this isn’t how they’re supposed to work! What’s going on?” or to just have a few instances of Hiro trying to work together a makeshift guide for himself based solely on the context clues he’s gathered from the various incidents? We see this inquisitive side of him in episodes 2 and 4, why not show it more often?? It feels like such and OBVIOUS way to add intrigue into both the show’s world and it’s characters that it’s utterly madding the show makes no such attempts at it. When we do finally get the explanation, it’s not earned or anything. Our characters just bumble into people smarter than Angoromon and are just told everything. Wow. What a thrill. Not to mention none of the information we just stopped the episode for has much of anything to do with it’s resolution. Just another throw away line that Clockmon will be sticking with prof. Bokomon.

Speaking of Bokomon, Episode 13. If that seems like a cruel transition, I’m sorry, but I genuinely didn’t feel much for Professor Bokomon before this episode, and by the time episode 13 was over, I was left wanting more of him, but not necessarily in a good way. He’s already introduced to us as a way to just hand off info to our leads without any effort, and his role for the the time he’s around is to basically be an exposition machine as well enabling Gammamon’s worsening Chocolate addiction (I wonder can digimon get diabetes?). There is one time before this episode where he offers our cast something other than basic information, and that’s in episode 11 when he tries to give Ruli, who’s feeling some type of way about Angoromon going places without saying anything, some advice. When we get to the end of episode 13, after his death, we’re offered a small flashback where it’s shown that Bokomon is interested in the kids because they seem like the kind of people that can serve as a “bridge” for humans and digimon. It’s nice to see that he really did have something more to him beyond just being a walking wiki, but I wish we got to spend some more time, seeing this side of him, so that I could actually feel sad about him dying. Though, If I’m being totally honest with you here, this is basically me just asking for ice cream to go along with my cake, because while it’s not really because of him, the scene where he dies still works because the actual focus is on Gammamon seeing someone he cares about die right in front of his eyes. The show does go out of it’s way to show that Bokomon did express a genuine interest in Gammamon and is pretty nice towards him so it’s very easy to feel for Gammamon, in addition to the fact that he is characterized as being a really young child, and he just learned about Mortality in the worst way possible.

Gulusgammamon’s proper introduction is very significant, not just as a plot point, but for really cranking up the shows thematic conflict up a notch. Before our heroes pretty naturally come to the conclusion to merely incapacitate the mon of the week long enough to talk them out of causing trouble (well except episode 8). That said, there was no greater sense of purpose to it for them, it was simply the natural thing to do. Now the story is putting narrative weight on this decision by Gulus’s actions. He tries to get Hiro to side with him in killing Sealsdramon, but it fails, Gulus pretty bluntly pulls the “iT’s k1lLe or B K1lLeD bRAH.” card, and neither seems to care about Bokomon dying nor is interested in talking to anyone… aside from Hiro, however briefly. It’s obvious from the dialogue that there’s something more to Gulus, it’s also apparent, that while his consciousness may be separate from Gammamon’s, he’s still there, lurking, watching, waiting for the next chance to break out and cut loose. This is a fairly standard plot point in a lot of stories but what makes it interesting in this case, is that the thematic question of whether or not our heroes will be able to become a “bridge” between humans and digimon, is now tied to Hiro’s “younger brother” Gammamon, and his potential to turn into Gulus again at potentially any moment. A personal theory I have, taken from how Angoromon describes natural digimon evolution, is that there just might be a potential risk that Gammamon might just become one of his adult forms permanently as his base form near the end of the show, and while he can become any of the RBG forms, he can also become Gulus, and grow even further in mind and body stuck in that mindset, set to live a path of selfish destruction, causing hell for others, and potentially itself (if the show is willing to utilize some of it’s traits from the encyclopedia). This being a kids show the answer to that question should be fairly obvious, but it’s the sort of thing that gives a lot of weight to how Hiro will look after Gammamon, and how he intends to approach other digimon in the future.

That is of course if this is all given it’s proper narrative due. We’re obviously not going to be directly confronting these implications right away, but it should be something that’s on our character’s minds now. Given that my only point of reference as to how well ghost came can utilize long term story telling is clockmon, I hope you can see why I’m a little skeptical. Another thing I’m particularly leery at is Angoromon’s evolution, or rather his lack there of so far. At this point I would like to bring up the fact that, at the end of the day, the digimon anime has it’s obligations to uphold as a commercial to sell you shit. Jellymon’s evo debut “suspiciously” happened the day after her dim card for the vital bracelet was released, which was also the same day Angoromon’s dim card released. This lead many, myself included to predict that episode 11 would be when Angoromon’s would happen and uh… yeah that didn’t happen. I wasn’t particularly upset or anything, as stated before Ruli feels like the character we’ve spent the least time with getting to specifically flesh her out and in a way I feel like episode 11 would have actually been a worse off episode if Angoromon did evolve. “Ruli is only allowed to be a more distinct character whenever we need to push that fancy evolution button!” or some such. Having an episode just to spend time on her relationship with Angoromon without any special gimmicks attached was exactly what I wanted and what the show needed. That said, it is hard to ignore just how long it’s been without so much as a hint that Angoromon is going to evolve beyond seeing his evo in the OP and ED. Currently, if I recall correctly, he has gone the longest out of any main partner digimon without evolving once, a title that used to be held by Patamon from the original digimon adventure. In Patamon’s case though, he was the 7th out of 6 other partner digimon that got to evolve one after the other, and the story lays it on pretty thick that he’s special given he’s the exact kind of digimon that would serve as devimon’s perfect counter. Basically, Patamon’s a pretty big deal within the narrative, is the same to be true of Angoromon?

That would be… pretty strange if so. Initially I thought Angoromon might evolve in order to stop Gulus from going on a rampage or something, but when episode 13 aired and we actually saw Gulus in action, I was once again relieved that he didn’t evolve then. Gulus dispatched Teslajellymon effortlessly, and if Angoromon did evolve there then one of two things would happen: 1.) Symbareangoromon would similarly get swatted aside just as easily and he would have evolved for no reason, looking lame in the process. or 2.) Symbareangoromon is successful in restraining and or defeating Gulusgammamon, making him look superior to both Tesla who got knocked down in one hit AND Gulus who is supposed to be a menacing threat. He’d become too special basically, and for what? If Symbare were to be so good that he could take out Gulus, why would he lose to any other digimon that isn’t a mega/ultimate ever? It would absolutely muddle things and I think the evo not happening in 13 was the right call, but then what is the reason he’s taking so long to evolve? Is it going to be for something special, or will it be about the same as all of Gammamon’s normal evolutions as well as Jellymons? The amount of time spent on holding off a form, that for all intents and purposes, isn’t necessarily supposed to be that special creates an unnecessary heightened sense of expectation and at this point almost feels like a lose lose situation. I could of course be proven wrong as we’re getting more into speculative territory, but it is odd. It’s hard to look at Gammamon getting 4 different adult level forms and the marketing for the vital bracelet and see them has hindrances to the show. There is the narrative ace in the hole, that Ruli and Angoromon don’t share quite as close as a relationship as the other two leads, but still that’s a lot to stack onto something that is only supposed to be but so special.

I’d be remiss to conclude this before highlighting some of the episodes I did like (aside from 11) as well as touch on the show’s visuals, though there might still be an undercurrent of negativity on my part, especially for the latter topic. I did genuinely enjoy episodes 1 through 4 for what they were, none of them are especially amazing but as introductory episodes to a show like this it felt like they did a serviceable job in setting up the more basic traits of our cast and providing a few fun kid friendly(?) thrills. A personal exception however would be the first half of episode 3 as I love it…for the most part. In spite of the fact that you know Ruli is going to partner with Angoromon and join the main cast, the fact that we don’t see him, or Hiro and Gammamon really helps in creating a ever growing feeling of isolation. Ruli reacts the same way any person would given her (bizarre) situation, being rightfully scared but still hopeful that she’ll find some answers, only for her options to dwindle and for minor things to start spooking her, adding insult to injury. This part is one of my favorites because it speaks to the kind of horror that ghost game can actually feasibly utilize and got me excited for whenever the show would decide to pull this sort of thing out of it’s bag again. That said, this episode and this part does have the problem of not exactly establishing Ruli much as her own character. We don’t get to see much of her more distinctive traits, and while that wasn’t as big of a problem at the time, it’s only gotten more exacerbated as time has gone on. Episode 5 meanwhile upends the fairly lax tone of the first 4 episodes for a insane and hilarious character introduction in Jellymon. Despite this almost being a bottle episode it is nuts to see the lengths the show went to in order to characterize both Kiyoshiro and Jellymon, and it’s easy to see why the two so quickly became fan favorites. How can you not love a jellyfish who’s idea of a joke is to jack up the economy using the digital talismans some wimpy nerd hacked into 1000 accounts out of sheer panic (of which she caused.) It’s also easily the best looking episode thus far, with lots of fun camera angles and character expressions and animation for Jellymon and to a lesser extent Kiyoshiro. I heard the show was kinda screwed on the production end, which, for digimon that shouldn’t necessarily be surprising or anything new, but even in episode 1, there seemed to be a bunch of odd little errors that just kept staking up in a way were I was kinda worried about the staff behind the scenes. It’s one thing to be let down the the first episode of ghost game isn’t anywhere near the visual marvel of digimon adventure 2020’s 1st episode, but it’s another to see an error that feels like it should have been ironed out somewhere in the middle of production and utter “oh god oh jeez, I hope this show didn’t kill anybody!”

It’s by no stretch an ugly show, but perhaps a bit of a let down after the highs of adv 2020, and worrying for a cavalcade of other reasons (lol the anime industry is fucked) I do enjoy some of the background visuals, the simplified city in the real world kind of reminds me of the same style of backgrounds from batman the animated series (though nowhere near as striking, I just thought it was an interesting approach), and the skies in the digital field areas being the same as the original adventure series is a neat touch. Speaking of digital fields, I really did like the look of Kiyoshiro’s, a sunken futuristic city is a pretty cool aesthetic! (there he goes again, outshining his co leads!)

Lastly episode 8 is similarly insane because it features a speed demon nun who forces a bunch of random digimon to join a death race with her and even gets the digital grim reaper on board to keep things fun. Our leads were very much in over their heads on this one and I kinda like that for all the ups and downs they had on this particular adventure, they weren’t exactly able to really resolve anything, they simply lucked out that Blackgatomon came along to bail them out. A note I’d like to point out that I may be reading a bit too much into, but for the past two episodes, plus this one, Ruli has been somewhat pushy in bringing Hiro and later Kiyoshiro into situations. So it was kind of amusing that Ruli grew to be so determined to beat Ceilmon in a race when to me, Ceilmon is basically a more insane and twisted version of Ruli herself. It made me wonder if they were going for a Spike vs Andy kinda situation, though, obviously it doesn’t go THAT insane, and this may be one I may be over thinking, but in spirit of the more wacky episode, I thought it was a fun thought to share. Episodes 5 and 8 are anything but scary (well minus Metalphantomon’s entrance) so they, in conjunction with me not liking episodes 6 and 7 made me wonder what exactly the point of the horror theming for this show was. There are still plenty of episodes to utilize it in various ways, even if it’s only flavor dressing, but some of GG’s best episodes felt like they didn’t specifically need them in order to work so here’s hoping it neither becomes too much of a hindrance or get totally dropped altogether in the future of the shows run.

To (finally) conclude this…whatever this is, to me, Ghost Game is a season that, if nothing else has charisma. I can’t help but want to root for the show and to see the characters get pushed in fun and compelling ways because it feels like it has all the proper tools in it’s arsenal, but it’s just not using them yet. Whether or not it’s because it was laying down foundation or because the tools were actually fake, I don’t know but I can only hope for the former. This being only about the first 13 episodes, this will all become pretty worthless pretty quickly (lol) but I wanted to highlight these 13 episodes specifically because most digimon seasons, with a few exceptions, tend to spend their first cour or so on more episodic stories before revealing a bigger picture plot. In that light, this run of Ghost Game in comparison to other seasons is, at least to me… is somewhat middling. While I certainly wouldn’t call it a boring or irritating show to sit through (let alone the worst set of introductory episodes), I am left wanting more out of this cast. Otherwise things are almost as hit or miss as any other season opener, and it’s too early to tell what may be actual building blocks or not but still some episodes will probably remain fun one offs while others remain duds that I’ll probably always skip on hypothetical repeat viewings. Unless the show loses me somewhere along the way I do plan to stick with it til it ends, though I have no intention on writing anything as ludicrously long as this again until the show’s over. (even then I still may not do it cuz fuck, I knew I had a lot I wanted to say but how did it get this long holy shit what the hell was I thinking?!)

So, til next time….uh….eat chocolate responsibly…yeah. Nailed it.

P.S. the evolution theme, first riders, is pretty cool. It feels a lot calmer than most evo songs to me but it’s definitely grown on me as a song. Hope we can get a proper cool scene to have it play as a background track to!

#Digimon #digimon ghost game #ghost game #talky talky #no seriously I'm not kidding this is long #I probably won't be going back to fix any spelling errors I just want this done

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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years

Text

I’ll Make a Million Mistakes

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

“Don’t worry,” Dick says, throwing his arm around Duke’s shoulders. “Everyone in this room has had their teeth knocked out at one point or another. It’s a rite of passage around here.”

“I don’t know how to tell you thith, but that doethn’t happen to normal people. We acthually prefer to keep our teeth, believe it or not.”

“Wait until you get your first major battle scar. Trust me, they’re cool.”

“Y’all need Jethuth.”

Bruce likes to think of himself as a patient man. Even more, he’d like to think it’s a trait he earned all on his own, but anyone who’s met him would testify that he inherited his patience from the man who raised him, and Bruce would have to agree. This level of restraint he possesses is an acquired skill—one that is reserved for the world’s best butlers and for fathers of six. Karen from the PTA wishes she were on Bruce’s level. His exceedingly calm temperament is the only reason Bruce doesn’t melt into a puddle on the ground now, his bones turning into a milky froth because Jesus fucking Christ, hasn’t he had a hard enough night as it is? No person should have to spend two hours solving riddles because Eddie was feeling manic tonight and then be forced to come home to human children. Duke smiles around a mouthful of bloody gauze. “In my defenth, I’ve never even had a cavity before.” “No, you just got your tooth knocked out.” “Teeth.” “What?” “Ith acthually teeth, plural. I lotht two of them.” Bruce facepalms. “Goddamn it.” He ignores the giggles from his other kids, all of whom apparently decided they needed to be present for this conversation. He’s picking his battles tonight.

“Ith not my fault!” Duke points over at Tim, standing against the Batcave’s wall minding his own business. “Ith hith fault.” “It is not. Bruce, don’t listen to him.” “Oh, yeah? Who knocked me into the railing in the firtht plathe?” “That was Jason’s fault. He’s the one who threw the football.” “Actually,” Jason chimes in, “that was Cass. I was an innocent bystander.” “Liar,” Cass says. “Don’t call me a liar.” “Liar.” “You’re the liar. She’s framing me, Bruce, I swear to god. I’ve never done anything wrong to my siblings in my entire life.” Dick makes a spluttering noise. “You once threw a pineapple at my head because I was breathing too loudly!” “And I don’t regret it one bit.” Bruce sighs. He doesn’t have the energy for this. He gently grasps Duke’s chin, being mindful of his sore jaw. “Where?” Duke pulls out the wad of gauze and opens his mouth wide. He points at the space where his front tooth used to be, then a canine on the bottom left which now consists of half a white shard. “Ith thith one and thith one.” Bruce hums. “I can get you a dentist appointment tomorrow afternoon. They’ll put a couple of caps in and you’ll be good as new.” He’ll have to rearrange a few things in his schedule. At least now he has a valid excuse to skip racquetball with Clark. There is no logical reason a bumpkin from Kansas should be better at racquetball than Bruce is, there just isn’t. “Tho my thmile ithn’t permanently ruined? Thath a relief. Thethe babieth are my betht feature,” he says, all the while bloody saliva dribbles from his lip like a deranged vampire. Best feature, definitely. “Don’t worry,” Dick says, throwing his arm around Duke’s shoulders. “Everyone in this room has had their teeth knocked out at one point or another. It’s a rite of passage around here.” “I don’t know how to tell you thith, but that doethn’t happen to normal people. We acthually prefer to keep our teeth, believe it or not.” “Wait until you get your first major battle scar. Trust me, they’re cool.” “Y’all need Jethuth.” “At least it’ll make for a good story one day,” Tim says. “Everyone loves scar stories.” Jason snorts. “People actually like death stories more, but go off I guess.” “Nobody cares that you died, Jay. Find new material.” “You want new material? Check this out.” Jason tugs down the collar of his sweater. He shows off the mostly-faded autopsy scar sliced up his torso and to his shoulders. Bruce winces. Dick yawns. “So? You got autopsied. Big whoop. Scars don’t count if you’re dead when you get them.” He tips his head down, parts a section of his hair with his fingers to show off the fresh scar on his scalp. “Talk to me when you get shot in the head.” Tim rolls his eyes. “You realize how stupid this is, right? We shouldn’t be arguing about who has the worst bodily trauma.” “Why,” Jason says, “because you know you’d lose?” “Because I’ve got you both beat.” He pulls up his t-shirt to display the surgical scar on his abdomen. “Missing spleen. Beat that.” “I lost a kidney. Kidney trumps spleen any day.” Cass rolls up the leg of her shorts to show off her bullet-riddled thigh. “Connect the dots. I win.” “But have you lost a vital organ?” Tim asks. “No.” “Spleens aren’t that vital,” Dick says. “Fuck off, at least you still have one.” “I would prefer to keep my organth,” Duke says. “Juth thaying.” “And you will,” Bruce assures him. “Probably.” “Probably?” “Look, I’m tired. We’re all tired. Can we schedule the scar contest for a later time when I’m hopefully not here to witness it?” Maybe he can ask Alfred to drug his tea from now on. At least then he can rest easy in a drug-induced slumber, knowing all the while that he’s missing the kind of petty arguments no parent should have to hear. “No one said you had to be here,” Dick says. “Anyway, Bane once slammed me against a wall and now my hip throbs when it rains.” “At least your wrist doesn’t click when you move it at the right angle.” Jason shakes his wrist next to Tim’s ear. Tim cringes. “You’re all amateurs,” a new voice says, and Bruce wants to die. Damian and Stephanie appear to have returned from patrol, still in their uniforms. “Try having your entire spine replaced.” Tim wrinkles his nose. “Great, it’s time to hear Damian talk about how much better than us he is. My favorite activity.” “Shut up, Drake. You’ve never experienced pain.” “I got blown up once! I still have burn scars all over my neck and shoulders!” “Eh. I’ve had worse.” Steph grins and holds up her left hand, just happy to be included. (Note to self: ponder whether Stephanie is secretly a golden retriever in human form.) “I have no feeling in these three fingers.” She pokes them to demonstrate. “And should I mention that I was tortured by Black Mask once? No? Because power tools were involved, in case anyone was wondering.” “Do I need to reiterate that I once died in an explosion?” “Jason. Little wing. I’m begging you to shut up about your death.” Cass points to a spot on her ribcage. “Two ribs made of metal. Got shattered during a fight. Four years old.” “My dad used to burn me with cigarettes every time I was bad, so...seven times a week, more or less.” “Oh, same!” Jason and Steph high-five. “My grandfather broke my arm in two places when I made a mistake during a training drill. He made me fight assassins for three hours straight afterward without so much as an ice pack.” Duke looks horrified. “Are you guyth okay?” “No offense, but none of you should talk unless you’ve gone through childbirth.” Stephanie rolls up the top portion of her Batgirl suit just enough to show off the scar across her lower belly. “You think getting blown up is hard? Try spending three hours in labor and having a baby ripped out of you. That’s hard.” Jason wipes away a fake tear. “Boo-hoo, someone had a baby when she was a teenager. Human reproduction doesn’t involve being beaten to death with a crowbar.” “Nobody cares that you died, Jason!” “Indeed,” Damian agrees. “Being stabbed by your clone is far worse than being caught in a little explosion. And I can take a crowbar beating in my sleep.” “I’m gonna kill him, Bruce. I’ll kill him right now. Just say the word and I’ll do it.” Bruce sighs, closing his eyes. “Duke, there are painkillers in the medicine cabinet if you need them. I’ll text you the time of your dentist appointment. The rest of you, please refrain from talking to me for the rest of the night.” Bruce walks away toward the manor, silently praying that he can forget this conversation ever happened. “Hey, who wants to see where Killer Croc bit my ass once?”

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yourfangirlfriend · 3 years

Text

It’s Nothing Serious - Chapter Four

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Notes: Idk someone’s reading this

——————————

“It’s not serious.”

You almost turn and walk back to your apartment.

Instead, you blink at him.

“Isn’t that shirt supposed to be white? ”

He closes his eyes and brings hand up to face and sighs.

“It’s not-“

“It’s a gunshot!”

“Is this going to be a lecture? Or did you want to drink?”

You shake your head and push past him, swinging the bottle of whiskey you brought him like you’re about to bring it down on his coffee table. You hear the door close behind you and turn.

“Alright. Let me see it.”

“What?”

“I’m not giving you a drink until I see it.” You pluck the whiskey back up from the table, holding it up.

“I have my own-“

“Javier, you stubborn fucking man-“

“ Fine.” He brings his hands up to his neckline and begins to strip off his bloody shirt. You stand there waiting, grinding your teeth when he pulls off his right shoulder and you see the bloody bandaging underneath. He tosses his shirt to the floor and brings his hands to his hips, before bringing them forward and gesturing, as if to say “enough?”

“Fuck, man!” You stride forward, stopping just in front of him. You raise your hand as if to touch, but pull back. You look back up at him, horrified.

“It’s not a real gunshot wound.”

“Oh, just a figurative one?”

“I-“ he turns his head to the side and growls in frustration. You ignore the feeling it causes between your legs. “It’s just a graze. It didn’t go through.”

You fix him with a look. He shakes his head, like he can’t believe you’re reacting like this. “Am I clear?”

You drop your arms from where you had them crossed and turn back, making your way to the kitchen. “Alcohol thins your blood and delays healing.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” He sits back on the couch, stretching his arms out across the back and dropping his head back. You return to the couch with two glasses, sitting down next to him.

“You’re not taking those pills with this, are you?” You nod to the bottle on the coffee table’s edge. He lifts his leg up and kicks the bottle off. What a baby.

“If you were going to come nurse me, you could have at least worn the little dress.” He reaches and takes the whiskey you offer him. You roll your eyes and relax into the couch beside him, taking a sip.

“How long did they send you home for?” You ask, your eyes falling back to the bandage.

“Two days rest, a week desk work.” He takes another drink.

“Aw, a pencil pusher like the rest of us,” you reach forward and pinch his cheek. He reaches up and seats your hand away. You giggle.

“You’re annoying,” he says, reaching to the side table for a pack of cigarettes. Despite his statement, he pulls a second one out for you.

“I hang around children all day.” You reach out with your lighter and light the two ends for him. He holds the second one out for you. “Probably why I get along with you so well.”

“Ha ha,” he deadpans. He leans back, exhaling a long puff of smoke. The two of you sit in a not uncomfortable silence for a moment. You look around his apartment, scanning for any signs of personality, but find it lacking. No pictures, no books, even the tv looks dusty. You bring the glass to you lips again before asking:

“What are you going to do for two days laid up?”

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

“No but really,” you say. “Like, you going to knit or something?”

“What?”

“I’m trying to ask what do you do for fun?”

He turns and looks at you like you just asked who the president was.

“You’ve seen it,” he says after a beat, dropping his eyes back down and leaning forward to ash. “You’ve been it.”

“And what an honor it was,” you nudge him with your foot. “Come on, not even reading?”

He shakes his head and gestures outwardly. “I fucking hunt down drug traffickers all day, alright? I count corpses for fun, how about that? What do you do, late night book club with third-rate soccer players?”

You frown and put your drink down on the coffee table. Standing, you bend over to put out your cigarette.

“If you want to be a dick, you can drink on your own.” You make to walk past him. “I’ll see you around.”

You hear him sigh behind you.

“El, wait.”

El?

You turn and see him standing, bent over to stub the cigarette out. When he stands straight, you avoid gazing down at the way his jeans fall on his hips.

“I’m sorry, alright?” He says.

You don’t say anything.

He sighs and drops his head. “Today was bad. It’s been bad for a while. I thought I was handling it, wasn’t letting it affect me but...well,” he gestures to his bandage. Your stomach drops seeing the blood again. He waits for a response but when you’re still quiet, he throws his arms up, exasperated. “Look, I’m sorry, alright? I don’t want to be a dick, I just want to drink and smoke and” his eyes dart anywhere else in the room. “...hang out with you and think about something else.” He drops his hands to his side, before looking back at you.

You narrow your eyes and take slow determined steps forward until you’re in front of him. Maintaining eye contact, you bend down and pick up his glass of whiskey, bringing it up for a long pointed sip. You swallow, then extend your fore finger, pointing to his face.

“... second rate soccer player,” you correct.

And it takes everything to maintain your character and not to join him as he bursts out laughing.

———————

“Javi, no, I’m too drunk-“

“It’s just a bandage-“

“I’m not good with blood!“

“You said your dad hunts-“

“Thisisafuckingfleshwound!” You snap. You’re swaying in the doorway of his bathroom, squaring off against him as he leans against the sink.

“I can’t lift my arm, hermosa.” He says. “I need some help.”

You stare at him, a frown on your face. When he shrugs.

“Fine!” You huff, putting you whiskey down on the floor. You go to stand in front of him and take a deep inhale.

“...in order to change a bandage-“

“Shut up,” you cut him off. Nodding at your own resolve, you bite your lip and reach up to grab the corner. Quickly, perhaps too quickly judging by the way Javi flinches, you rip the bandage off.

“Ugh!” You make a vomit sound. It’s much deeper than you thought it would be. Even if it was a graze, that’s a fucking gun shot wound. The angry, red stitches seep with blood.

“I told you! I told you about the alcohol thinning thing!” You say.

“Can you just-?”

“God, it’s so deep-“

“Eloise, put the fu-“

You pull the new bandage open and grimace as you hold it up, hovering over the deep, ugly line. Gently, gently as you can, you press down on the adhesive, nibbling at your lip when it looks like he’s in pain. When you finish you step back, like the thing might bite you.

“There- there!” You say.

“You did it.” Then, he brings both his hands up to run along the outside, smithing it. Be breaks into a smile when sees the face you make. “Pretty good for a beginner.”

“You asshole! I told you I don’t like blood!” You reach forward and push his shoulder. Immediately he hissed in pain. “Shit! Shit! Shit! I’m sorry! I’m sorry-“

———

“I should...take a pain pill,” he says from behind you as he lays down, eyes closed on the couch. You sit up from where you’re sat in front of him, smoking a cigarette, and turn to chide him.

“ No.” You slur. “You’ll...you’ll die.”

He blows a raspberry.

“Shut up, that’s how Judy Garland died!” You turn back forward and lay your head back, resting on his arm. You close your eyes.

“It hurts,” he says.

“You’ve just got to focus on something else. You can will your consciousness-“

“Christ, your parents really were hippies.”

“-fucking told you- anyway, don’t think about that. Think about...” you smack your lips, trying to think. “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

He laughs. “Psssh. What?”

“I bet you were 15.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Were you?”

“...sixteen,” he concedes. “What about you?”

“...how long ago did we first have sex?”

“... What-“

You let out a deep belly laugh. “Oh my god, you are so gullible. I can’t believe you’re a fucking agent-“

“- I didn’t actually believe you!.”

“Yeah, alright.” You shake your head.

“...Well?”

“What?”

“How old?”

You take a deep sigh. “Twenty.”

He laughs. “Nerd.”

“Slut.”

He nudges your head with his shoulder, and you break out in a smile.

“See? Not hurting anymore.”

————

“-No, where Carter went wrong-“

“Oh please regale me, Mr. ‘Nixon Had his Good traits’ -“

“Will you listen-“

“I bet you voted for Reagan-“

“ Don’t insult me-“

________

“Oh wow.”

“What?”

“No just, you being an only child makes sense.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“What do you think it means?” You laugh.

He smiles, looking away from you. “That I’m...independent...”

You laugh harder.

—————-

“Apartment looks like a serial killer’s-“

“What?”

“Put one picture of your mother up-“

————

“...I should buy a boat-“

“- You should totally buy a boat.”

——————

You wake up to a room lit up by the blue that precedes the rising sun. You pull your head up from where you’ve been leaned back, still resting on Javi’s arm. Pushing up onto your feet like a baby deer, you survey the damage left on the coffee table. The whiskey bottle is empty, and a few cans of beer are scattered across countless cigarette butts and ash, the result of an upturned ashtray and drunken laziness. Deciding it’s a job for later, you turn to Javi, who’s still asleep, mouth agog.

“Javi,” you reach forward and shake him. He barely stirs. You shake him again. “Javier.”

He jolts away, turning towards you rapidly. In the second he doesn’t recognise where he is, his eyes flash in such a way your chest aches. “What...”

“We fell asleep in your living room ...and I am still very drunk...” you swallow. “But you need to sleep in a bed. Come on.” You reach your hand down to pull him up. He takes your hand, standing slowly. You wrap your arm around his waist, urging him back towards his bedroom.

When you get to the edge of the bed, you deposit him on the edge of his mattress. You hear him him as you walk to the adjoining bathroom and fill the cup of water there. You try and drink as slowly as possible, and refill it after you’ve downed the cup. Walking back to the bed, you shake Javi awake once again.

“Javi-“

“Mmrpff.”

“Sit up and drink this.”

His eyes still closed, he sits up and takes the glass. He gulps it down before handing it back in your vague direction. You place it on the table beside him.

“Before I go-“

“Wha? No, don’t be stupid.” He reaches up and pulls you down to lay beside him. He turns on his back, giving you some room “Go to sleep.”

You open your mouth to protest, but you then you think...why not. You’re still drunk, and while you know it’s going to hurt in the morning and you’ll want nothing more to be in your own bed, in your own wallowing, something’s keeping you on the mattress beside him. Convenience, you decide.

“These sheets better be washed,” you mumble as you settle in beside him. You hear him chuckle before you’re asleep.

———————

You’re right.

It does hurt.

You can barely open your eyes before the morning light is giving you a headache. Turning away from the light, you open your eyes further to see Javi standing by the bed, the pain pills bottle open and in his hand.

He looks rough, and he’s ready for you to scold him. He holds up a hand in pre defence.

“Don’t -“

“Sssh,” you wave your hand. You reach out your palm. “Give me two.”

—————

The two of you wake again a few hours later. In your drugged, heavy sleep you seem to have gone diagonal in the bed, forcing Javier to the edge, your face pressed into the back of his neck. You try righting yourself, giving him some room as you stretch. You sit up and press the heel of your palm into your eyes, shaking your head. You turn to look down at your companion, who’s stirred awake.

“What time is it?” He murmurs. You turn to look at the clock.

“1:30,” you say. He shakes his head.

“Not ready.”

“Me neither.” You say. You feel a tug on your shirt from behind you, urging you back. You give in, and lay back. He puts his chin on your shoulder, burying his nose in your neck, an arm sling across your front.

“Hmmm,” he says as way of an invitation.

And you drift back off.

————

When you both wake up again at 4:40, you pull him out of bed and into the living room to try and get some food in him. All he wants, though, are cigarettes. It turns into a tense negotiation, with you threatening to light his pack up on the gas stove if he didn’t try to at least east a piece of toast. After the first, though, neither of you can get enough, and you end up making the worlds shittiest grilled, hungover cheese sandwiches. When you’re both sat at the table on your second sandwich, you raise your head.

“We slept the whole day, and I still feel like shit. And now my sleep schedules fucked.”

“We could go back to sleep,” he says taking another eager bite.

“How is that possible? We slept about 12 hours.”

He holds up the pill bottle, rattling it.

“...Aren’t you in the DEA?” You hold out your hand.

He pops the lid and deposits two in your palm before dropping two more in his own. “I’m off today.”

————————

When you wake up on Sunday morning around 11, he’s already up, sitting on the couch with a coffee and plate of eggs. As you wander into his periphery, he turns to look at you.

“Made coffee,” he holds up his mug. “Eggs.”

“Thanks,” you walk over to the sink and fill up a glass of water. You walk over to the couch and drop into the corner. He’s still shirtless in his jeans, but looks a lot cheerier.

You, on the other hand.

“Ugh,” you bring the glass to your mouth taking a deep gulp before continuing. “I have to grade so much today,”

“They’re kids, how hard could it be?” He shakes his head. “I’d kill for some work right now.”

“I have a pile over the past few weeks. They’re writing assignments, I have...have to leave little notes on each one...on their grammar.”

You’re both quiet for a second before he realises what you’re thinking.

“Javi-“

“No.”

“You just said it would be easy.”

“I want real work.”

“Wow.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Come on,” you moan. He shakes his head.

“No.”

“...I’ll suck your dick.”

————

“...is this comma supposed to be there?”

“Let me see? ......Ah, no. -2.”

“...kind of severe.”

——-

By the time he’s pants up, hands shaky as he recovers from frankly some of the best fellatio you’ve ever performed, the sun is just about to set. You finish your sip of water from where you’re stood in the kitchen, skimming over the assignments to check they all have a grade. When he comes up to kitchen, his hands pressed into his back pockets, you look up and give him a smile.

“Good job,” you say.

He nods and reaches for the water. You return to his bedroom to pull on the jeans you had discarded two nights earlier, the first time he had pulled you into bed to sleep, returning minutes later. When he turns and sees you, he raises his eye brows.

“Headed out?”

“Desperately need a shower.” You walk to the counter and pick up the papers. You examine his bandage. “How you feeling?”

“Better,” he runs a finger along the underside. “They said I can come in a day earlier, but they want me to stay home tomorrow.”

“Didn’t even offer to bring you homework?” You ask. He shrugs.

“Steve might. Not til 5 though.”

“A whole day of nothing.” You make a face.

“...I like reading.” He says. You look back up at him.

“Huh?”

“For fun.” he clarifies. Then, as if realizing he may have just disclosed something, he clears his throat and looks away “Maybe I’ll find something.” He says. He nods to the door. “I’ll see you out.”

You walk with him to the door and wait as he unlocks it. Holding it open he leans against it.

You’re about to say goodbye when he leans forward and catches you in a kiss. It’s longer than you would have expected from him, given whatever this arrangement was. Yet you’re not pulling away. When he finally does break, you find yourself leaning forward, chasing his lips.

“Get home safe,” he says. You roll your eyes, making for your door. When you get it open, you look up and see him still watching you. You look down and smile, pressing forward and closing the door behind you.

A moment later, you rap three times on your shared wall.

If you’re not mistaken, you hear a muffled laugh.

————

When he opens the door at 7:00 the next morning, he’s surprised to see you on the mat.

“Hey,” he says, pressing his hand into his eye, rubbing the sleep out. “What-“

“Sorry, I have to get to the school early, but,” you reach out your items to him. Still bleary eyed, it takes him a moment to focus.

“I bought them at the airport when I came down,” you shrug. “They’re shit, but they hold your attention. This one actually is decent by the end, if you can push through .” You tap the cover on top. “Just in case you need something to do.”

He looks up at you, his face still perplexed. You shake you head.

“You’re welcome,” you sigh. You turn and begin walking to the door when you hear him behind you.

“Hey,” he says. You turn and see him standing on the mat, outside of his house. He holds up the stack. “Thanks.”

You stop and sigh.

Then you smile.

“Just take care of yourself today. Don’t need that bursting open the minute you don’t have adult supervision.” You point to has bandage before turning to walk out. Just before the door closes, you hear it.

“It’s not serious!!”

#javier #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x oc #narcos #it's nothing serious

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outerbankspreferences · 4 years

Text

50 wordless ways to say I love you.

#3. Traveling long distance just to see them.

Word count: 2040

Warnings: mentions of sex.

A/N: So I know nothing about filming, and I’m sorry it took me so long to update, but I’ve been sick. Hope you like it <3 :)

MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

It had been a great week. You had gotten all your assignments done and handed in on time for once. You had time to deep clean your apartment and so much needed laundry. Why were you doing all this, because your boyfriend Drew had the weekend off from filming and he was going to make the four- and half-hour drive from Charleston to the Chapel Hill campus to be with you. You guys had been dating for little over a year, but you weren’t ready to move in with him just yet. He was your first serious boyfriend and you wanted to take things slow. You were also 4 years younger than Drew and felt it a little intimidating moving in with him just yet. Of course, he was supportive of that. You laugh to yourself thinking about how nervous you were when you two first started seeing each other. You had gone to high school with Maddy Cline, and when she went to university out west you kept in touch. You were the first person she told about wanting to be an actor, and you supported her dream 100%. She was the one who introduced you and Drew. She always joked that she was your guy’s cupid.

As you were hopping out the shower, wrapping your hair in a towel you heard your phone ringing. Rushing to kitchen to get you saw a picture of Drew show up, he was trying to facetime you. “Hey love, what’s up?” You ask him. It was unusual for him to be calling you this late. You take a good look at his face. There were bags under his eyes, and he had some stubble where he hadn’t shaved. You wonder if that was for his character. “I’m just getting back from supper with the cast. I miss you.” He spoke into the phone. Austin must have been sleeping because Drew spoke quietly. “Is everything okay love? You seem off.” He looked away from the screen, even when you weren’t physically with him you could still tell when something was up. You did this with everyone, not just him, but Drew thought it was your superpower. “Just a rough week with filming, and honestly I don’t feel very good, I think I’m just tired, but I don’t know.” He sat the phone, so it was propped up, rubbing his face with his hands. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that Drew, just wait a couple of days and you can come down here for a little break. I promise nothing but movies and snuggles.” You told him with hope in your voice. His face falls when he sees how excited you are. He was dreading making this call all day. “Yeah about that,” he trailed off. You sigh, “you can’t make it, can you?” He looked at you and instantly felt worse. “No, I thought we were going to have the weekend off, but I guess we’re behind schedule. Which I find crazy because we’ve been working our asses off all week.” He laughed trying to brighten the mood. “Maybe next weekend love, I’ll try and make it down. I’m sorry I know you were looking forward to it.” You put on a fake smile for him. He was already feeling shitty, and you weren’t going to add to his problems. “That’s okay, I have to work next weekend, but maybe I can switch my shifts around.” You send him a reassuring smile. “Go get some sleep babe, what time do you work in the morning?” “We have to be on set by 9:30.” “Okay, well I have class tomorrow, so I’ll talk you then. I love you, get some sleep.” You told him. Drew was half falling asleep talking to you. “Yeah your right love, have a good day, I love you more.” With that you hung up the phone. To say that you were disappointed was an understatement. You had been looking forward to seeing Drew all week, but you also felt bad because he was sick. Drew always took such good care of you when you weren’t feeling 100%. You decided he needed you there with him. You find your group chat with the girls and send them off a message.

Y/N: Hey guys, I heard you’ve been having a long week filming, but I need to ask a tiny favor of you.

MB: Ugh, you have no idea, I’m so tired I think I’ve been sleepwalking the whole day.

MC: I agree, this has been a week from hell, Chase got home and went straight to bed. What do you need Y/N?

Y/N: Well as you guys know, Drew was going to come down this weekend but now he can’t. So I was thinking of catching the bus down Friday and surprising him. But I need to know his schedule.

MC: YOU GUYS ARE TOO MUCH! Of course, we can help you with that. He’s filming with me a lot this weekend, so maybe be down for Friday night, our last call time is 5, and hopefully it won’t take more than an hour or so.

MB: I will be so happy not to listen to him go on about how much he misses you. He was so sad when he found out we would be filming through the weekend.

Y/N: Okay perfect, I’ll get Austin to pick me up from the bus station and I’ll wait at their place for him to get home. You guys are the best!

MC: Maybe we can all go get supper Saturday night, at the new bar we found. Everyone misses you.

MB: OMG I forgot about that place, yeah, we should go, Y/N you love it, they have half priced shots on Saturdays.

Y/N: Yeah okay, I’ll see what Drew wants to do and I’ll get back to you.

You were so excited. You went online and bought a bus ticket for Friday after you last class. It was a 5-hour drive because you would have to switch buses, but for Drew it was worth it. You packed your bag and planned with Austin for him to pick you up around 5:30. He promised to keep it a secret and was happy Drew wouldn’t be moping around the apartment.

When you get ready for your class that morning you just put on a cardigan, some leggings and put your hair in a ponytail. Austin had texted you saying that everyone was excited to see you and Drew was oblivious to what was being planned. Drew had also texted you that day, telling you to have a good day and he would try and call you that night. You could hardly sit through your class always checking the time. Once your class was over, you walked home and grabbed you stuff to catch the bus. Once you got on and settled you put your headphones in and slept the whole way. As promised Austin was at the bus station waiting for you. “Hey Y/N” he greeted engulfing you in a hug. You laugh “Hi Austin, thanks for picking me up, is Drew still filming?” “Uh yeah he is! Maddie said that they were going to be done around 6. You guys should have the place to yourselves, I’m going to stay at Rudy’s tonight.” You felt bad, you didn’t want to kick him out of his own home. “Austin you didn’t have to do that! I didn’t want to put anyone out. I was just worried about him. Is he still sick?” He laughed at you. “No I’m good, I don’t need to hear you and Drew go at it tonight, and I think he was a bit better today. If you ask me, I think everything is getting to him. He misses you; he misses his family; he’s working like none stop right now. I think he just needs some sleep.” You nodded along with everything Austin said. If there was one person who knew Drew better, then you it was him. They’d been roommates since filming season one after you and Drew decided to wait to move in together. You had become surprisingly good friends with Austin, and he would always third wheel you guys. “Wait, he’s not sleeping?” It caught you off guard, Drew never had trouble sleeping. A trait of his you were always jealous of. “Yeah well he never sleeps great without you anyways or at least that’s what he tells me.” You never knew that. You would spend a week at time with Drew, you guys would flip between each other places always spending the night together. You had to admit, you did sleep much better wrapped up in his arms.

Austin dropped you off at the apartment. “Are sure your okay sleeping at Rudy’s tonight Austin. I’m sure if Drew’s tired nothing’s going to happen.” He was putting your bag down, grabbing a drink out of the fridge. “Yeah, I’m sure, him and Elaine finally got together so he’s been sleeping at her place. I’m just going to watch the game or something.” You smiled, those two had been pining over each other for months. You had seen some pictures on Instagram and was happy they finally made it official.

Austin left you at the apartment waiting for Drew to get back. You put your stuff in his room and decided to make something to eat. If Drew were sick you wanted to make something that would make him feel better. Looking through his pantry you found some cans of soup and decided that would be perfect. He should be home anytime so it would be ready for him when he got there. You put on your Spotify playlist and started cooking. You were so focused on what you were doing that you never heard Drew unlock the door. He had to look twice when he saw you facing away from him making food slightly dancing in spot while you cooked. He was glad it wasn’t Austin cooking for once. “Y/N, what are you doing here? I missed you so much.” He came up hugging you from behind. You jumped a little. “Christ Drew, for being so big you’re awfully quite.” He laughed kissing you. You finally get a good look at him for the first time in a couple of weeks. He looked terrible the bags under his eye were worse, he was pale, and when you put your hand to his forehead, he had a fever. “Drew Starkey, you are running a fever, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad. I’m making you some soup go lay down on the couch until its done.” You scold him. He knew better then to let things get this bad.

Once the soup was warmed up you put it into some bowls and brought it over to him on the couch. He had turned on Netflix and was watching a crime documentary. “Babe you didn’t have to do all this, I’m fine, really. Just a bit of a cold nothing I can’t handle on my own.” “Clearly, I can tell you’re getting much better. Just eat this and we can cuddle after words.” You reply to him with sarcasm. Drew didn’t know how he got so lucky. For the rest of supper, you guys made small conversation. He asked about the bus ride and how school was going, and you asked about filming. Once the two of you were done eating you put the dishes in the sink, they could wait to be washed in the morning. You came back and laid down on the couch opting to the big spoon. Grabbing a blanket and wrapping Drew up to keep him warm. “Where’s Austin?” he asked. He noticed that his roommate wasn’t home, “oh he’s sleeping at Rudy’s tonight. He didn’t want to listen to us having sex.” Drew laughed and his breath tickled your chest making you giggle. “I’m too tired for sex tonight maybe tomorrow.” You looked down at him he was staring at the television half asleep. “Get some rest love you need it.” And with that Drew slept better than he had weeks.

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