#some scenes can be read as gratuitous but fuck it dude i fucking enjoy it

[ladsofsorrow24]

been playing room no 9 since yesterday... i really enjoyed this game, it really ticks all of the tropes i like in BL

[adultswim2021]

The Venture Bros. #48: "The Better Man" | December 7, 2009 - 12:00AM | S04E07

I think I figured out a big reason why I love The Venture Bros, but unfortunately I can’t spend too much time expounding on this in a non-shallow way: it reminds me of Ducktales. Because sometimes they go on a big adventure to an exotic locale, and sometimes they have to spend an afternoon killing money-eating bugs in Uncle Scrooge’s money vault. 

In this one, Orpheus and the triad are shown up by the Outrider, the man who “stole” Orpheus’s wife. But he ends up in hot water and requires Orpheus’s help after being trapped in hell. Billy Quizboy does illegal surgery again! And: also: we get the return or H. Jon Benjamin as the master, who reveals himself to Triana and scares her away from Dean and encourages her to go live with her mom and become a dang Harry Potter. 

This one’s sorta important in that it helps drive home the fact that Triana and Dean do not belong together, and it writes her mostly out of the show. At least it writes her out of the compound (she comes back at least one other time I can think of). But mostly it’s just about the characters hanging out and stuff. Yeah, there’s a big scary monster from hell, but a lotta of the episode is just about Hank and Dean going to the mall and sexually harassing women. Dermott is there, too! He’s one of the rudest guys on the show, so cherish him. 

I am struggling to come up with compelling highlights to illustrate the fact that I enjoyed this episode, which I actually did a great deal. I think I’m just happy that it doesn't’ have a plot I feel compelled to write-up extensively. So I’ll just list gags now I liked: 

The Matthew Lesko reference. It is fucked up that that dude has a suit with question marks and not dollar signs. Could it be the Mandingo effect? Oh, in my reality we call it the Mandingo effect because–

A fairly neutral “transgender” joke! In 2009! They didn’t even gratuitously use the slur! Wait, I like a lack of slurs?? SINCE WHEN??? 

“I look like Rufio!” 

The whole scene where the Master pretends to be future Dean is bleak as fuck. Hilariously Jackson and Doc said they based his look on Bernard Goetz. I mean, look at this and tell me he doesn’t belong in the Ventureverse:

A thing I didn't LIKE, per-se, but bears mentioning: maybe one of the worst production errors of the show has Dean wearing a suit to impress Triana, then suddenly not, then it's back again. I originally thought it was due to them shuffling the scenes in the edit but Jackson took responsibility and said he approved of the storyboards of a suitless Dean without thinking. God DAMN him!

EPHEMERA CORNER

Christmas in December Specials (December 13, 2009)

Even MORE Christmas in December to Tell in the Dark. This night featured a few other Christmas episodes but not that many more. I'd rather not post the schedule because of SPOILERS!!! Also, I thought maybe they did something else that was special, but if I am to read Swimpedia correctly the previous Sunday's "Christmas in December" was the one that featured the shop-at-home segments and not this one. I refuse to delete this paragraph. Sorry.

MAIL BAG

I just heard the good news: Adult Swim 2021 is coming to FunnyOrDie to cover Tim and Eric projects as bonus emphemera content. W00T!

The cat is "right out" of the bag: I will be doing this in some form. In fact, I sorta regret not attempting to include more non-Adult Swim Tim & Eric stuff in the ephemera section (like the Shrek 3 promos, for instance), but that's okay. But I do sorta think those are significant in that they are an important stepping stone towards Bedtime Stories. But I'm not gonna cover Eric's music videos or his future court case (speculation)

[cerosin-bis]

Can u do krueger headcanons? (Only if you have the time)💕😸

Oh hell yeah. I was hoping for this ask from day one 🤭 Thanks anon. With great pleasure!!

TL;DR: Sebastian Krueger is not right in the head. At all.

His bio implies (without confirming) that he may have killed his parents + offed civilians while deployed. I think both are true.

Some have a resting bitch face, Krueger has a resting smirk.

Freeloader in his youth. grew up in Austria, but spent a lot of time in Germany in his teens and early adulthood. Underground/techno scene, freeparties in the mountains near the border, all that stuff.

Gets along super well with Syd. They're besties.

The only other operator who fights as dirty as Krueger does in hand-to-hand combat is Wyatt, and both have more common points that one could imagine (the Deranged© and "exceptionally good with a knife" ones)

Hypoalgesia. Abnormally high tolerance to pain (and cold) (he's never cold. ever.)

Weirdly picky about cigarettes. He only smokes Camel (and weed; the only thing that makes him sleep for longer than 4-hour patches which is his normal)

Never passed his driving license, he provided a fake one upon joining Chimera. Nikolai knows but pretends he doesn't.

Complete control freak - but to the difference of others he doesn't even have to try. He exerts control effortlessly about p much anything and anyone. He blends in, always knows what to say and ppl tend to listen to him (please don't.)

Genuinely enjoys seeing drama unfold. He likes being the centre/cause of drama, too. He knows he can get away with anything.

In short, definitely some, if not all psychopathic traits. Lack of normal empathy (weaponised empathy), very smart, efficient, blunt yet people are drawn to him.

Bonus about the KSK pre-MW19 incident and other gratuitous stuff:

In Remanence, I didn't write it for the sake of making the story a bit easier to narrate, but in my headcanon Hans (Golem) helped Krueger escape KSK custody while being 99% sure that Krueger was NOT innocent. You can read abt that in this fic. He helped him despite his morals, despite learning that he befriended (and maybe more) a dude that was lying abt his entire life up to his own fucking name. He helped him without even having Krueger ask. Hans didn't need to be manipulated or gaslit, he just felt he had to help but didn't know why. I have a fic about their shared past here!

Him and Syd (besties) have a matching nipple piercing.

Rattlesnake (or ouroboros) tattoo around his right thigh. Kinda like Grinch's but it's a snake.

According to the approximate deduced timeline from his bio, he'd have killed his parents around ages 24-26 🥶 so this is what I hc too LOL

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Book Drop Boy (Twice x Reader)

✧ pairing: library student worker!Twice x afab!student!Reader

✧ word count: 9.9k

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, maladaptive daydreaming (twice), twice is chaotic af, commits library related crimes, use of the term sweetheart a few times, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, doggy style, afab terms, no pronouns for reader, gratuitous swearing this is potentially the softest thing I've ever written, like she's pretty tame idk what Twice does to me

✧ summary: In which Twice learns that sometimes dreams do come true, except those dreams are just the maladaptive fantasies of a broke library receptionist and, while sexy, also involve more fraud than he expected.

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, this is set in the same universe as my shiggy college piece, but you don't need to have read that. There are some fun little easter eggs though if you have tho. This is like the most tame thing I've ever written and it's way longer than it was meant to be but oh well. Anyway, Twice deserves some love. Enjoy <3

Logically, Jin was aware you probably had no idea who the fuck he was.

But that really didn’t have any effect on the wildly intricate fantasy life he had created for the two of you during his long shifts behind the library reception desk. That, in fact, was the only reason he hadn’t up and quit just to save himself the embarrassment of another loud outburst in the middle of the most silent place on campus.

What was truly more shocking was the fact that none of those said outburst had gotten his ass kicked straight out the door.

But he held out.

If only for you.

Late nights or lazy afternoons you were always in the campus library—studying he assumed or…

'Studying,' because a lot of the time he noticed you’d show up with a drink from the cafe a few blocks down, set out a line of colored pens and not touch a single one of them for hours, content to stare blankly at the chipped desktop. And even that Jin was more than happy to watch.

He did a lot of watching.

Mostly because he wasn’t permitted to leave the desk unattended unless there were piling up returned books which needed to be replaced quickly.

So instead, he pretended to be busy scrolling through something on his old as hell monitor—which was conveniently set up directly across from the comfy chair/desk combo you always managed to grab—and he indulged in day dreams where you’d bring him a coffee from the cafe when you came in and set it on his desk, maybe kiss him on the cheek, maybe loiter by his workstation and play with his hair and—

Yeah.

It was a lot.

But you were always in that chair, always working or pretending to work and you never seemed to notice the uninterrupted hours of staring Jin did, so what was the harm?

If you never knew, you’d never get creeped out—cause it was creepy, he knew that, oh fuckin' boy did he know it was real goddamn weird.

He just couldn’t seem to give it up. Especially when the conditions presented perfectly for some good uninterrupted, totally not stalker-y at all, fantasizing.

Sometimes he thought you might have some mundane superpower that let you always snatch that perfect seat right across from his computer, and made it so the library was just cool enough that he’d get to watch you shrug on that cute extra sweatshirt you always brought. So he could catch a glimpse of some skin—in a totally normal and not invasive way—when your arms went over your head. So he could imagine it was his ratty old sweaters you were wearing just so you could smell him on you and god he really wanted to get close enough to smell you—was that too weird? No. Yes? No.

Not at all.

But the best part, the part that really convinced him on those awful days when he really just could not be bothered to drag himself out of bed and walk the couple blocks to campus just to sit in awful silence alone, in his head alone with the fucking thoughts that made him want to rip his hair out—

What made it worth it was those times every few weeks when your classes would get new assigned readings. Because then you’d have to check out new textbooks, since you were one of those geniuses that had figured out the library kept a ton of those books in stock. Of course you were, cause you were fucking perfect.

And when you had to check out new books, you had to come to reception.

Jin got to watch as your lovely figure moved through the stacks like you were ballroom dancing along the halls of faded, sea-green shelves, almost floating over the linoleum trying to find just the right volume in the right addition before anyone else beat you to it.

It was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen.

Spinner would call him a fucking simp if he ever dared to uttered any of that out loud, but it didn’t matter.

If it was you, he’d simp for fucking life.

And then, you’d walk that fucking glorious ass over to his desk and plop the books down, smiling—cause you were polite like that, so fucking perfect he couldn’t hardly believe it sometimes—and asking how his day was while he checked you out in every sense of the phrase.

In a completely platonic and not freaky way.

So Jin kept coming to work, to that god awful job he really hated and which hated him just as vehemently. He clocked in every day and waited patiently like a fucking puppy counting the hours till its workaholic owner arrived home, ears perking up when you walked through the door and flashed your ID to the attendant.

If only for that.

He’d put up with his boss’ complaints and the weird stares he got when the thoughts just wouldn’t stay in his head anymore and he had to start talking to himself to fill the silence.

If only for that.

Those few hours when he could lose himself in the fake inner life where you were waiting for him when his shift let out, waiting to gather him, tired and understimulated, into your arms. Where you’d sneak into the back room with him just to chat and lace your fingers with his and maybe sit that fucking wonderful ass up on the tables so he could stand in between your thighs and you’d pull him down to—

Yeah.

That was enough.

***

It wasn’t until Tuesday when he had to come in again that week, and he already knew it was gonna suck balls.

Friday he’d gotten another round of complaints from some stuck up fucking business students—it was always the fucking business majors with those silver spoons so far up their asses—snitching to his boss that he’s been ‘disruptive’ and ‘disturbing’ during his last shift.

“Not my fucking fault,” he muttered under his breath, kicking a rock along the side walk he’d picked up two blocks before. “Yes it is. No it’s not!”

Jin groaned and tugged at his hair, wishing he’d brought a Tylenol or something to curb the headache that was already sticking it’s ugly ass claws into his temples. He really, really heavily contemplated just ditching, calling in sick or some shit. Technically he was a student worker, so they had to work with his DRS accommodation and he was actually having a bad fucking time.

But one of his friends had already texted to ask if he’d try and reserve them that sweet ass study room on the third floor and Jin wasn’t really looking to disappoint anyone else this week. Besides, it was fun to abuse his minuscule power. Fun to go corrupt for once. Fight the system and all that.

He liked to think you’d be proud of him for it, based on the kinds of texts you checked out at least.

So, he dragged his sad ass back to the looming library looking far too much like a prison than was necessary and clocked in. Actually, the first thing he did was check the chair—your chair and nobody else’s chair, he might actually make a fucking scene if somebody ever did steal it—and his face visibly fell when you were not occupying it.

It was a bit early, Jin supposed as he paused briefly when he noticed the can of Monster and rando vending machine chips sitting next to it by the reception computer. The sticky note slapped to the top read 'For your troubles' in familiar handwriting and that pulled a bit of a smile from him as he quickly rearranged the scheduling of study room sign ups so the fancy third floor room would be free for the rest of the night.

Then Jin sat, staring at the study room schedules for a moment, feeling his eyes softly glaze over until a hand slapped down on the raised lip of the reception desk.

“Hey bro,” Spinner greeted him with a wild smile and a flurry of bright pink hair.

Jin had to blink a few extra times to get his vision to clear. When it did he saw, horrifyingly, that he’d been staring at the fucking blank screen for two hours without moving.

Why was it that his head was either deadly quiet, devoid of even a single errant thought or so loud as fucking shit at all times that he couldn’t physically keep the thoughts in?

“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Jin asked, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“Aren’t you supposed to like shush me or something?”

Spinner chuckled a bit at his own god awful joke and Jin couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, too glad for the company.

“I mean,” he shrugged, popping the can of Monster and ignoring the dirty looks he got for the sound. “I would if I was, uh, good at my job.”

“Which I’ve heard you definitely are not,” Spinner wrapped his fingers over the lip of the desk and leaned back on his heels, swaying side to side idly.

“You’re just figuring that out now?”

Jin didn’t bother watching while Spinner nearly tripped over himself fidgeting as he spun to stand at the little gate that corralled Jin inside like livestock. He was too busy glancing over to check you hadn’t slipped in while his brain had taken a trip to the astral plane without him.

“No, I been knew, but my sources tell me you’ve gone off the rails my friend,” long legs stepped over the wooden partition until the only friend he had who was quite possibly more annoying than Jin himself was sat on the counter next to his computer. “Finally been radicalized have you?”

Jin huffed and sipped his Monster, “Guess it fuckin’ took me long enough.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Spinner was messing about with the stacks of multicolored sticky notes littered across the desk before glancing up to wink at Jin. “So what can I get you to do for me in exchange for free food?”

“Now I really am gonna fucking shush you,” Jin smashed his finger against Spinners grin only to get a hand covered in spit for his trouble.

“Right, right,” Spinner held his hands up in defeat, “can’t have you cheating on your sweetheart.”

“Not my—yes I’m in a committed fictional relationship thank you very much—ugh!”

Jin could feel the heads shooting up from laptop screens and textbooks to stick daggers in his back with their angry stares. Spinner at least had the good sense to look a little fucking guilty for egging him on.

“Sorry bro, I had to shoot my shot ya know?” a hand disappeared into the mop of bubblegum locks in apology.

“It’s fine…” Jin trailed off, mumbling and blushing more than a little profusely as he turned to check the book drop box. “Not like I’m ever gonna fuckin’ shoot mine anyway.”

“Oh we are not gonna have that kinda of shit discussion,” Spinner’s hand shot out and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, spinning Jin in his chair. “On god bro, we’re gonna get you a date one of these days.”

Jin didn’t dignify that kind of lie with a response.

Spinner once again, had the good sense to not push the envelope any farther.

“And in the meantime, you can come to the League meeting tonight!”

“Your gaming club thing?”

“Yeah, it’s Smash night and we need to fill a space sooooo…”

Jin knew Spinner and his roommate—the same friend who he’d gone study room rogue for—had started a gaming club their freshman year. Spinner had been trying to strong arm him into attending ever since. To, as he put it, ‘socialize,’ and ‘make new friends.’ All things which Jin was patently horrible at and avoided like the plague.

Needless to say, he’d refused every time.

It wasn’t just the whole being alone with like two people he kinda knew in a room full of strangers. Games themselves were just a lot for him. The flashing colors and the loud noises made his head—which was already so fucking full all the time and he really needed to keep any extra scrap of space for extra random facts he picked up about you and your future married life together—get a bit misaligned.

They just weren’t his jam most of the time.

“I’m good, thanks for the offer though,” Jin twisted out of Spinner’s grasp and craned his head to check your seat again.

Still empty.

He sighed.

Spinner continued to ramble and Jin continued to only half listen. It wasn’t as pleasant to day dream when you weren’t there for the added visual aesthetic. And he was trying to not be a dick and ignore the one friend he had managed to keep around over the years. But it was hard when his mind had a mind of its own.

Wow.

Meta.

“Jin?”

The voice—deep and dark in such a dramatically ominous way it might have been funny if it didn’t belong to his permanently disgruntled supervisor—interrupted his already derailing train of thought.

“Oh, uh, hello sir,” Jin stuttered, turning to find Kurogiri leaning against the reception desk with one arm, turning only slightly to accommodate Spinner’s form bolting over the gate and out the library doors.

He did manage to throw a fading, “See ya later, bro” over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.

Yeah thanks for the warning, bro.

“Aren’t you supposed to be reshelving the books from the drop box?” Kurogiri sighed, perpetually disappointed in a way that had Jin’s face burning and shame bubbling up in his throat.

He hated this job. He was objectively terrible at it, and so usually he wouldn’t give that much of a shit at not doing it well. Kurogiri just had some type of vibe—like daddy but not in the sexy way Spinner always joked about—that made it really, really upsetting to let him down.

Father figure? Yeah that's what it was called.

“Right, yeah um, sorry,” Jin nodded quickly and leapt from his chair, only mildly bruising his knee on the desk as he reached to empty the book drop.

Another incorporeal sigh was the only acknowledgement he received as he loaded the cart with wheels louder than Jin on a particularly bad day and rolled the pile of books back to the stacks. He paused once more, just before the sea green shelving units swallowed him up, to sneak another futile peak at your chair. But it still sat empty—empty and lonely with no you and cold without your body pressed against the worn upholstery.

Jin felt a chill too, a slow tingling thing that worked its way up from the base of his spine. It drove him deeper into the walls of books, away from the empty spaces.

It was harder to look.

Harder to be reminded of what he did not have.

Of what he’d never have cause he was too much of a goddamn pussy to ever just fucking talk to you—

But then what if he did? What if he did talk to you? What would happen then?

Those were the types of questions he tried to avoid when crafting your intricate, fictional lives together. Precisely because they were the easiest to answer.

You’d realize within the first five minutes or so of conversation—if Jin could even make it that far without embarrassing himself—that he was just a generic brand weirdo that all your pretty, normal, aesthetically pleasing friends would warn you to stay away from and because you were also pretty and normal and not a fucking idiot, you’d have the common sense to listen.

He’d lose you in the blink of an eye.

Your chair would sit cold and empty forever and the imaginary garden he’d been planting for you to come imaginarily home too would wilt and die like all the other happy thoughts in his head.

It was quite the conundrum and one Jin was not keen to solve soon.

Not that things ever really went his way. Cause problems could only be avoided for so long before all that time spent ignoring them came back to bite him full on the ass.

Which, apparently, came this time in the form of what had to be quiet, muffled sobbing drifting in between the shelves from the back hallway.

It was dark here in this section of the building—free of most windows so as not to cause any sunning damage to the books—and Jin had seen more than enough horror movies to know that it was a horrendous idea to follow the ominous crying sounds coming from the bowls of this old as fuck building. But even as he made up his mind to ignore it, the hand currently working one of the returns back into its proper place dropped the book to his cart as his feet slowly turned to face the corridor.

He looked around skeptically for a second, not entirely certain his poor brain hadn’t simply malfunctioned again, as it was wont to do, and fabricated the sound entirely. But as he peaked out from between the stacks, and down the dimly lit hall, he heard it again.

Echoey and soft in the wide, empty space it—was definitely coming from the hall and it was definitely a person.

Jin caught himself moving without ever meaning too, the books laying forgotten as he crept towards the source of the noise and paused just before leaving the stacks entirely. This hall was full of small alcoves built into the centuries old walls and led to the lesser used storage portions of the library that only the janitorial staff and the university librarians ever entered. He really didn’t want to stumble across someone from the special collections department bawling over a damaged or lost manuscript.

But his wayward feet pushed him forward, too sympathetic for his own good. He found himself shuffling down the abandoned hall, peering into each small dip in the walls to find the source of his distraction.

And when he did, Jin was—for once in his life—thankful for his lack of self-preservation instincts.

And cursed his blatant lack in interpersonal skills.

Because it was you.

You curled with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, shoulders shaking, as you cried into your palms.

The universe had handed him maybe the only golden opportunity he would ever get on right on a platter.

But Jin didn’t have a fucking clue what do with it.

And there certainly wasn’t much time to formulate a game plan as his nervous breathing and sudden intake of breath upon discovering his imaginary lover sniffling right in front of him, had certainly alerted you to his presence.

Your head shot up in an instant, knocking dully against the stone wall with a thud.

“Shit,” you cursed and hands flying up to cover the area as Jin jumped on the spot at your outburst.

“Are you okay?” he asked lamely as you glanced over at him, eyes red and wet and so fucking sad oh fucking god, widening as you realized you’d been caught.

“Huh? Ye—oh uh, yes,” your words came out jumbled, legs unfolding quickly to push yourself off the bench and hands wiping furiously at your eyes. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“You sure about that?”

Jin cringed visibly and frowned at the way you deflated under his stare. God the first fucking time he actually talks to you and he already made an ass of himself.

Spinner’s roommate was such a liar, it really fucking sucked to be right sometimes.

“I mean,” you crumpled back down onto the ledge and Jin took a careful step closer, “no, but yes. Like I’m definitely having a breakdown in the back of the fucking library but I don’t wanna, uh, bother you with that. So, yeah I’m good.”

“You can bother me,” he replied way too fucking quickly.

But he couldn’t really be embarrassed about it. Your voice was just so captivating, and you weren’t talking to him in that raised pitch anymore like you usually did—the way everyone does when they’re trying to be surface level and polite. No this was your voice how you sounded when you were relaxing with your friends or making breakfast in the morning or talking to yourself in the shower (he liked to think you did that, or sang maybe as you worked the soap into your skin, one of the two but he always imagined you filled silences with how fucking pretty you were).

“No, really. That would be weird, right?”

Jin grimaced as you fixed him with a watery yet suspicious stare.

Yeah it was weird.

Everything he did concerning you was weird, objectively. He was definitely being over-familiar and too eager, especially considering you didn’t fucking know him.

But he knew you.

Jin felt like he’d known you for all months he’d spent pretending to be by your side.

And you were crying and he had to do something.

“I mean, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, taking a risk and plopped down on the opposite end of the alcove and resting his head on the wall. “But not any weirder than having a breakdown in the employees only section of the library building on a Tuesday.”

You kept staring blankly for a few moments before the most miraculous thing happened.

Jin had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor when the quiet giggle bubbled up from your chest and spilled out into the hall, warm enough to melt even the freezing linoleum floor.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” your voice cracked a bit as a few more tears slid like pearls down your cheeks.

“My name’s Jin,” he said, shocked stupid both by your laugh and the apparent success of his comforting methods.

“Oh, hi, well I guess I don’t have to call you book drop boy anymore,” you rubbed at your face again and tucked your legs back into your chest, though it looked a bit more relaxed this time.

Not so trying-desperately-to-fade-out-of-existence.

“You called me that?” Jin asked, brain still functioning at half capacity, only shocked at the fact that he existed as a concept in your head enough to have a name and realizing a bit too late how accusatory he must have sounded. “Shit, I mean it’s totally fine I just didn’t think you, uh, well I mean, like, knew about me I guess?”

You finally smiled and his brain power cut out another fourth at being personally graced by the expression this close up.

“Yeah, you always check me out—fuck sorry not that you check me out, just you scan my books and I just called you ‘book drop boy’ in my head cause I never got a chance to ask for your name but I have it now so that’s cool….”

Your head dropped back down to your knees as you groaned and Jin suddenly felt a lot less nervous than he had a few seconds ago.

You were weird too.

For so long you’d existed on this pedestal thousands of feet in the air, and now you were stepping down from the heavens and onto earth. Not in a bad way! Just, Jin had never really stopped to think that you might be a person too.

Well.

No, he knew you were a person, just he never thought you might get flustered and ramble and be nervous in front of him.

Cause he was a fucking train wreck—the bar was so goddamn low.

It was almost as comforting as your smile.

“Oh, yeah sorry I’m not the best at customer service if you couldn’t tell,” he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair.

You looked back up with a wry grin, “I don’t know, I’d say you’re going above and beyond right now.”

And you were funny.

He was gonna fucking combust.

“Ha, yeah, I try,” he trailed off for a moment before glancing back at your curled in your corner, fuck he could just imagine sitting behind you, your head on his chest while you—”So uh, did you wanna talk about it or…?”

“Uh, yeah,” you picked idly at the grouting of the stone and mumbled, “I guess it’s not so weird if we’re on a first-name basis.

And that was how Jin discovered that you’d been hiding in the back of the library bawling your eyes out for hours—since even before his shift started. Apparently you’d gotten here extra early, even skipped a class, to snag some super specific required text for your final thesis and right before you got to the shelf some jackass swooped in, effectively hit and running with the only copy of that book on campus.

The book in questions was one of the newer additions that had special added footnotes you needed for your paper and was a whopping 500 fucking dollars to rent from every other place online. You couldn’t afford it, and honestly what fucking student could? But you needed it to complete the paper or you’d fail and Jin very much understood the need for a good breakdown after a catastrophe like that.

“Damn, that’s uh, fucking awful,” he frowned on your behalf as your head hit the wall a second time in frustration.

“Yeah so, I’m like royally fucked either way. Now I just gotta decide which hole I’m taking it in I guess,” you groaned.

Jin’s eyebrows raised at your choice of words but they were apt, he supposed. People really do get comfortable with each other pretty quick when bonding over shared institutional rage.

“Well,” he began, wringing his hands nervously at what he was about to suggest. “You might be in luck cause I’ve recently decided to abuse my library powers for good and I maybe, possibly, could try and see if there’s some strings I can pull?”

You perked up a bit, looking at him incredulously.

Jin felt comfortably full under your stare.

“Seriously?”

The word was soft and it bounced off the walls just as much as it did the inside of his skull.

Swapping study rooms to help a friend out was one thing. But falsifying checkout dates for someone he barely knew—had essentially married in his maladaptive fantasies—could get him fired.

He hated this job but he needed it.

Were you worth the risk?

Of course, he found himself thinking without hesitation.

You were everything.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, any lingering uncertainty washing away at the way you looked at him through your lashes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“Are you always this nice?”

Jin didn’t answer right away. He was too caught up in how you’d leaned forward on your hands across the bench, peering like he was some exotic animal or a stray cat in the parking lot—all soft wonderment with fingers curling like they ached to grab hold and rescue him from this parchment scented monotony.

“Not always…”

“Should I feel special then?”

If his face wasn’t red before, it was now. Red and blistering under the summer campfire heat that radiated off you—woodsy and warm and so painfully familiar like an old friend’s hand.

“...I guess you—fucking definitely, ” he quite nearly shouted the last bit, startled by his own volume and already mortified at the outburst but then you chuckled again from beside him.

He turned to see you standing and offering a hand which he gladly too if only to feel the weight of your palm against his.

“Well, you’ll have to let me pay you back then.”

“Oh, no you don’t actually—”

You held a hand up and the words turned to ash on his tongue in an instant, mouth glued shut by your gesture.

“Coffee on me or something, there’s a nice cafe a few blocks from here,” you dropped your hand and your eyes were clear now, no sign of the previous afternoon sobbing alone in the hallway. Jin felt a surge in his chest knowing he was the one who did that. “You gotta pass off the contraband anyway, and I don’t think it would be that great of an idea to do it here.”

God you were fucking perfect.

“Can’t argue with that.”

***

Jin was sweating profusely as he snuck past the library attendant, totally inconspicuous and not not all looking like he was doing a single thing wrong in the slightest.

Yeah they definitely didn’t suspect a thing.

The process of fraud was actually a lot less complicated of an undertaking that Jin had expected. All he had to do was search up the book, find the student that had stolen the success of his sweetheart’s educational career and flag his account. They’d get an automated message about the flag, instructing them to return any borrowed items or they’d be forced to pay fines while the account was examined.

Technically he needed administrator credentials to report student accounts, but luckily Kurogiri had his login info written on a sticky note hidden on the back of the monitor. All in all it was a pretty easy job.

The whole thing had taken only a matter of days, in which time you had returned to the library only twice—the first to get confirmation on the success of Jin’s newest descent into low level crime which had set his heart thundering in his chest as you bent conspiratorially over his desk, your face just inches from his.

The second time, Jin had horrifically been absent from his desk, however he was met with possibly the most wonderful sight of his life upon returning from the labyrinth of shelves.

On one of the hundreds of post-it note pads that littered the library reception area, there were scribbles that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He almost tossed it, but upon closer inspection, you’d written your number there and signed just below it. In the cutest fucking handwriting he’d ever seen—cute not for any stylistic reason, but it simply felt that way just by virtue of it being yours—was written the digits and “-for book drop boy”

The noise he made reading that turned more than a dozen heads and almost got him fired there on the spot before any of his indiscretions were even discovered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

So, nerve wrackingly, Jin texted you as he nearly sprinted home from his shift after that piece of shit asshole who made you cry had trudged angrily in and dropped off his ‘stolen’ book.

�� HEY IT’S JIN!

— from the library

— shit sorry that wasn’t meant to be in caps

— n e way….

— I’ve intercepted the ~package~ so whenever you’re ready for the hand off, I’m good

Most perfect fucking human being to…

Oh my god thank you so much!!!—

Is tomorrow at like 5ish good for you?—

Also send me your order—

so we don’t have to do that awkward waiting in line for drinks bit—

Holy fuck you multi-texted too! Spinner would roll over in his fucking grave, he hated when Jin did that. But there was always so much to say and he could never think of it all at the same time. Plus, you wanted to save him from that god awful silence where you both stand in line next but he can’t talk cause he has keep repeating his order in his head over and over or he’ll blank when he gets to the register so it’s just this painful weird glancing back and forth—

Ugh, maybe all the shit about manifestation that girl who always loaned him exacto knives in his sculpting class always talked about was real.

Cause there was no way you weren’t just heaven-sent, handcrafted especially for him and all his general brand of weird.

The hours which usually flew by without Jin’s notice dragged all that night. He was so full of excess energy that made his hand shake and his thoughts race, not sure what to do with themselves now that they didn’t need to fantasize about you.

He decided to use all that extra motivation to vacuum the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, much to his roommates' chagrin. She liked to get a nice solid eight hours every night and constantly reminded Jin of this, trying to sell him on that sleepy time tea before bed, though he really hated the smell of camomile.

Magne may lose out on some of her beauty sleep—not that she needed it and Jin would tell her that constantly, even if he did have some patently horrible judgment most of the time so he wasn’t really the best at offering reassurance—but the kitchen would be clean when she woke up so win-win really.

When she did wake up—wandering out of her room looking effortlessly put together in a way Jin could never hope to emulate—she sat at the table, sipping her tea and appraising him worriedly.

Jin was still in his jeans from the day before, hair spiking in every direction but down, and chewing his nails nervously despite losing most of them to the hour or two of early morning floor scrubbing.

“Babe,” she shook her head slowly, “take a breath.”

“Yeah okay,” he sighed and inhaled deeply, letting himself slide off the couch cushions and to the newly sparkling floors on the exhale.

“There, now wanna share what the hell is going on?”

He glanced up at her from the hardwood and groaned as she looked back down, brows furrowed over her glasses.

“Huhh, okay. So that absolute work of art from the library is meeting me for coffee later cause I have trade over this book I sort of stole, it’s a long story, and I don’t know if it’s a date—it sounds like a date, cause that’s where people go for dates and shit—but it might just be to pay me back for stealing the book. And if it is I’ve only ever been on that one date before which was with fucking Spinner like two years ago so—”

Magne held up a hand to quiet Jin before the speed of his words tied his tongue in physical knots. She looked contemplative, taking another soft sip of tea and nodding her head for a moment getting up to crouch on the floor by his head.

“You think too much for your own good, but never about the right things,” she mumbled, smoothing some of the hair from his face. “Does it really matter if this is a date or not?”

Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she chuckled in that way people do when kids ask them obvious questions—kindly, appreciative of the curiosity, “either way you cut it, you’ll be spending time with this person you like, yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and sat up to face her as she stood.

“A date is just hanging out with a special name anyway,” Magne’s hands were firm but gentle as she hoisted Jin off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll be fine.”

His shoulders slumped both in mild relief and dejection that he’d waisted so much precious time he could have been preparing possible topics of conversation or strategies to ask you out for real date on worrying over how this first time would go.

How did Magne always fucking know all this stuff?

Other people were such a mystery to him.

To be fair, though, Jin was a mystery to himself most of the time as well.

“Thanks, sorry for not saying anything about it earlier,” he sniffed as she smiled and pinched his cheek way fucking harder than necessary.

“It’s alright, I’m only a little insulted you waited until now to tell me about this massive crush you’ve developed.”

“Yeah it’s got its own gravitational pull at this point.”

Magne laughed at that and Jin felt the room lighten.

“I do expect details when you get back though,” she said pointedly, finishing her tea wandering back to her room to grab her bag. “Spinner asked me, very begrudgingly might I add, to fill in at another of his club tournament things tonight so I’ll be out late.”

“Really? I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”

Jin shuffled over to her doorway and peaked into the neat little space. Magne was rummaging through the meticulously organized closet and frowning as she answered.

“I do, Spinner just doesn’t agree with my battle strategies,” she huffed. “My alignment is far too ‘chaotic’ and ‘recklessly violent’ for his tastes apparently.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Jin laughed this time just envisioning the two of them stuck on a team. “Well have fun with that.”

“Yeah well,” she brushed by him into the hall, keys jangling as she went and calling over her shoulder. “Text me how it goes, and wear that new button up you got last week, it looks good on you!”

***

Much to Jin’s surprise and delight, Magne was right.

He was fine.

He was fine.

Fine was a bit subjective—as he was most certainly still highkey panicking on main as he got out of his last class and walked the short few blocks to the cafe on campus—but regardless he was perfectly okay.

Of course that all went right out the fucking window in the split second between him walking in and you already staring at the door as he entered. Your eyes widened just a bit and this smile broke out slowly across your cheeks when you waved him over and it was like suddenly every single creepy as hell day dream had just become reality.

It was a little overwhelming to say the least.

His heart may have actually stopped in his chest for a bit and he did contemplate the possibility that Kurogiri might have actually discovered his little plot, murdered him in cold blood and stuffed his body in the records room. This might all just be the afterlife, but that would mean that Jin had gone to some kind of heaven which didn’t really add up with his current tract record.

But it was fine.

Because you were really fucking easy to talk to.

Like, really fucking easy.

It was sorta strange actually, how you seemed to know all this shit he was into before he even really mentioned it.

After you traded off the goods, you both sat in the big comfy couches upstairs in the loft and you listened to him info dump, inevitably getting lost down innumerable unrelated tangents. You managed to keep up well enough though and not question the winding conversation.

“Damn,” he said, sipping at the last dregs left behind in his cup. “How do you know about all this stuff?”

“Uh,” you paused then, looking maybe just a bit sheepishly into your own drink. “I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time eavesdropping into your conversations while you’re on shift.”

He saw flashes at that moment—dial up sounds going off between his ears.

Jin.exe has stopped working.

“...What?”

You grimaced and hid your face in your hands for a moment, “I know it sounds really creepy, my friends just sorta made a, um, game out of it? They tease me a lot about going to study at the library just cause of the cute guy that works there, so we all kinda stalk you a little bit just—wow this is sounding exponentially worse and worse every second.”

He gaped a bit despite himself as you cringed visibly and Jin tried to discreetly pinch his thigh to make sure this really wasn’t some sort of cruel, cruel fever dream.

“You think I’m cute…?”

He blinked once and your eyes shot up to meet his, a pained, half smile caught between your teeth. “I mean, yeah. I kinda thought I was being a bit obvious, sorry.”

“What no, holy fuck,” he spluttered, face on fire and legs bouncing restlessly against the couch across from you. “Don’t apologize, I have a, uh, staring habit too I guess.”

“I know,” you rubbed at the back of your neck and Jin didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore endearing. “I’ve noticed, that’s like the whole reason I insisted on buying you a drink.”

“So wait is this a date?”

Jin wished almost immediately that he hadn’t asked, because Magne was right, it super didn’t matter but fucking shit on a stick he really wanted it to be a date!!!!

“Yeah,” you nodded. “If you’d like that.”

“Yes!—ah, I mean, uh yeah mhm,” Jin choked on his spit with enthusiasm, but it did earn him a concerned shoulder pat so he’d take the win.

It also afforded him the opportunity to walk you home after hours chatting until the streets were lit by burnt orange lamps and the cafe was closing. You didn’t live all that far from him actually and when you stopped to point out your door, the two of you were overcome by that telltale, charged silence.

Filled with potential.

Like a gas stove waiting for a spark to go up in flames.

It was you that struck the match.

“So, um, I promise I don’t just, uh, do this with everyone but, do you wanna maybe come inside,” you let your hand trail down his arm and slip into his palm, “I don’t feel like you’ve been properly compensated for saving my ass.”

Jin’s mouth was watering at the thought. He nodded slowly, eyes like saucers as you pulled him up your steps and through the door which shut promptly behind him.

Your place was nice in the sense that it fit you. He wasn’t really paying all that much attention to his surroundings as you locked the door and squeezed his hand in yours, leading him towards the end of the entrance hall.

When he stepped through to your bedroom, you toed off your shoes and he did the same, staring nervously and waiting for you to show him what exactly you meant by ‘further compensation.’

It was exactly what he’d hoped.

You approached him, still in the doorway, and stepped close so your chests brushed together. It was soft, the way you looked at him, sort of fuzzy around the edges while your hands trailed down his arms to place his palms at your waist.

It wasn’t like Jin hadn’t done this before—he totally had and definitely remembered all of it and wasn’t shit faced at all nope—but it hadn’t really mattered before. He knew in theory that he should take the lead, be a gentleman and make the first move and holy fucking god he was dying over there with the desire to finally live out his months and months of fantasies

But what if he did it wrong?

What if he ruined it now when he was so close to the finish line?

He’d never fucking forgive himself for it, and he could goddamn hear Magne in his head.

“You think too much for your own good.”

And he did, and he was right now, cause the room was only dimly lit by the street light streaming in through the window and you were reaching out to loop your arms behind his neck.

Should he lean down now?

Tilt left or right?

What if he clacked your teeth together?

What if—

Your lips were soft and hot against his, rubbing at the stubble on his chin before pressing close in that precious, puzzle-piece way human bodies fit together. He didn’t do much thinking after that.

His hands were too busy digging into the flesh of your hips separated by way to many fucking layers of fabric, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging just a bit. Jin sucked gently at your lower lip, knees going weak at the glorious fucking sound you made in the back of your throat as he licked over the taught skin and tugged it between his teeth.

He could feel you smiling into his mouth, sharing breath and raking your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Jin groaned and you—fucking cheeky little bastard—slipped your tongue right past his lips and licked at the back of his fucking teeth like a popsicle in July.

Your hands in his hair hard tugged and his breath was coming faster, lips gliding against yours as the room turned to steam around him.

Through the haze he clung to the few remaining seconds of clarity.

Jin pulled away for one painful second to mumble against your lips.“You meant have sex, right?”

“Yeah,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, but you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against his.

“Ohh fuck, ‘kay good, thank god.”

For once Jin had nothing more to add.

And you weren't exactly willing to give him back his tongue long enough for any interruptions anyway.

***

“Holy fucking shit, look at you,” Jin gasped into your ear.

Both of your clothes had been discarded long ago, and he had your bare back to his chest while he sat propped against the headboard with your legs hooked on either side of his knees. It didn’t afford him the best view, but he got your head resting on his shoulder and pretty moans spilling right into his ear.

He didn’t need to see your pussy anyway.

The slick pouring out of your pretty fucking hole and coating his fingers as he pumped two of them into you was more than enough. His other hand wandered in the lovely expanse of space between your chest and your waist, running softly over the skin and pausing to pinch and roll your nipples just to hear you whine.

His cock was so fucking hard, trapped between your ass and his stomach, twitching every time you thrust your hips to meet the movement of his wrist.

“Jin, fuck please-”

You used his name every time you begged him for more and it was really going to his head.

“You’re so goddamn perfect, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he groaned and sunk his fingers deeper into your soaking cunt while his mouth dropped to your neck and sucked hard to mark you lovely skin.

He licked at the indents of his teeth, tasting your sweat on his tongue that tangled with yours again as your hand reached for his cheek and pulled him in. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy forming of your mouths that left you connected by a silvery string of spit that flashed in the low light. Jin sighed at the sight, rutting his hips against the cleft of your ass.

Your thighs twitched where they were spread and your hips lifted off the mattress to meet the languid thrusts of his fingers that curled up on every push in to hear the hitch in your breath.

He took pity on you and brought his other hand down to rub circles on your clit, listening for the telltale whimpers and the way your nails dug into his arm to find the perfect rhythm.

“I don’t really—mm, there fuck—feel like I’m paying you back right now,” you mumbled nipping your own trail of stepping stone bruises onto his throat as he picked up the pace and held steady on that sweet bundle of nerves.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He didn’t really mean to full on growl at you then, but just the thought that you’d really believe he wasn’t about to fucking drown in ecstasy just from watching you get off—just from touching, speaking, being in anyway acknowledged by you at all. Jin nudged your head to the side and bit down harshly into the crook of your neck, shuddering as you moaned and arched against his chest.

In any other scenario, he could never really find the right balance between too many words and not enough. The sheer volume of thoughts and interjections that raced like cars reaching the end of rush hour traffic made the formulation of any coherent conversation impossible, but now—

Now with your body so pliant in his hands, so willing and sweet and wanting him.

Wanting him.

What a concept.

He needed you to understand, to know how fucking over the moon, sunshine bright you had him burning.

And for once, he finally had the words to do it.

After all, he’d had months to prepare.

It was surprisingly easy to change your positions, to pull away from you for just a moment so he could roll and cage you on your hands and knees under him, ass in the air nestled against his cock.

“You really don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?” he groaned into you ear, rocking his length against you both for emphasis and because it felt so fucking good.

“Ah, well ya know,” your voice was so wrecked he was desperate to find out how much it would take for you to lose it entirely. “When you put it like that—mmh—I just feel bad you’re doing all the work. ”

You had this cheeky fucking grin on your face when you rocked forward so back so his cock slipped down to your dripping lips. The heat of your cunt was mesmerizing and it took a fuck ton of self control Jin was unaware he possessed to not ram straight into you right then.

“Yeah cause I’ve wanted to for fucking months goddamn it’s driving me insane.”

“What?”

Now that he’d started, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to stop. His hands dug hard into your hips, rocking so the tip of his dick caught your clit and you shivered below him, hot skin sliding with the motion of your bodies.

“It’s all I think about whenever I see you,” he was shaking when his hand reached down to grip himself, spreading your folds and soaking his length in your slick. “When you come in to work I just fucking lose myself thinking about how bad I want you to be mine, my pretty fucking thing to bring me coffee while I work and let me fuck you in the backroom.”

You whimpered under him, face pressed into the mattress as he draped himself over you, chest to back with his breath ghosting over your ear.

“Literal hours I just sit there at that awful fucking job and I only keep coming cause of you, cause I can watch you sit all cute in your chair and watch the way your cheeks squish up when you put your face in your hands and imagine they’re my hands and I’m about to spit in your fucking mouth so you remember who you belong too.”

“I—” you were nearly choking on the drool that soaked through your sheets as Jin lined himself up with your pretty little hole, pressing just the tip into your heat. “I didn’t think you ever—nggh, shit—noticed much about me.”

The corners of his eyes burned as sweat dripped down his forehead, he had to hold back a sob as he sheathed another inch into those perfect walls.

“Notice you? You’re all I fucking think about,” he pressed his lips softly against your shoulder, hands running from your chest to your sides as you took his cock and every word that slipped from his lips without complaint. “I could take such good care of you. I just fucking know it, just please, let me take care of you?”

“Fuck Jin,” your voice was closer to a sob than anything else but he needs you screaming. “You don’t really have to convince me—”

His patience had run out long ago, not even willing to let you finish before he’d sunk in to the hilt, spearing you on his cock with one final thrust. You ass was flush with his hips and his balls hung heavy and tight against the back of your thighs. The strangled little cry that worked its way out of your throat had gooseflesh erupting across his arms where he held you to him.

Jin couldn’t really be sure—it wasn’t like his brain was all that functional on a day to day basis and it most certainly was not now—but your walls clenching around him and that addictive warm, wet feeling milking his cock was on a whole other level than any fuck he’d ever had before.

There was something about the curve of your back against his chest, and the way you seemed to suck him in, drawing his length back in just seconds after he’d pulled out. Some about the feeling of your chest in his hands, of the sweat on your skin that he licked off in a long strip up your spine. Like you really were made for him. As though all those months spent in dream land, concocting your pretend lives together had spilled over into reality, molding you into the perfect shape to take him deep and hard and cry while you came on his cock just like he knew you were meant to.

“Oh, fuck yeah, gonna make you feel so good, I promise,” he mumbled, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck as his hips drew back and he sunk into you over and over again.

He needed you to moan louder, needed your neighbors on the other side of every wall to hear what he did to you, how he fucked you dumb on his cock and made you drunk with the pleasure of it—slutty and perfect and better than any fantasy he could ever concoct.

The room was filled completely with the wet slap of your bodies—his balls tightening up just at the squelch of you taking him—leaving only enough space for your cries and his grunting, no room left for any bitter doubt to creep in and ruin the sweetness in the air.

He could feel the surge growing in his stomach, the tensing in his thighs as his hips stuttered, but he needed you to cum first. Wanted to tip over the edge to the feeling of you spasming around him, so he let a hand slip from your hip to your folds. Jin only paused for a moment to run a finger around your stretched hole, feeling himself plunging into you, before drifting back up to your swollen clit and working the sensitive bud.

The mattress creaked and rocked along as Jin increased his pace, shifting his hips until his tip knocked against something that had your hands fisting in the sheets and your tongue lolling out in between cries of his name.

You didn’t give him much a warning, not that he minded really. Just a muffled shout with your head smashed into the pillows and the tightening of your walls surrounding him before he felt your whole body wracked with tremors so hard he had to wrap both arms around your middle and hold you while he rammed into you.

Jin wasn’t really keeping track of the filth that was pouring from his lips as he brought himself closer to release. A lot of encouragement, that you were taking him so well, cumming so pretty for him, mixed with a lot of thanks—for letting him have this, have you, for not casting him aside like everyone else always inevitably did.

He did have the clarity to drag one arm up and link your fingers together, pressing hard into the bed while blood pounded in his ears and his hips stuttered in their relentless rhythm. When Jin did finally cum, it was a strangely silent affair, all the words and sound that usually roared inside him dying on his lips as his cock spilled milky release deep inside you and your walls fluttered at the fullness.

And then it was as though every muscle in his body changed physical states.

Boneless, he collapsed onto you with a little huff. You didn’t even complain, just squeezed his hand tighter in yours and hummed at the weight of him.

“Well I think that was a, um,” you panted while he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, “pretty equivalent exchange yeah?”

“I don’t know,” Jin kissed and nipped at the sweet skin of your shoulder, “I think you might have over paid a bit.”

You laughed, the joyous movement of your chest jostled him from your back and had his soft cock slipping from you in a gush of combined release. “I doubt that very much, I didn’t know I’d be getting to take your fucking load as part of the deal.”

“Shit,” he felt his heart seize in his chest, raising up on his elbows to look down as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

Your hand came up to stroke his cheek, clammy but welcome. He sat up enough so you could lay on your back and pull him back down to your chest amidst the sweat and cum slicked sheets.

“Don’t worry about it, I would have asked you to anyway,” you kissed the baby frizz at his hairline and if Jin hadn’t already melted into a puddle, then he certainly was now. “If I’d been able to talk at all.”

“Ha, yeah….”

A short silence descended in your dark bedroom. The noise of cars and the occasional shout filtered in through the window, but there was no other sound than your evening breaths. Jin tried not to ruin the peace while he had it.

It was such a rare commodity.

But he couldn’t say he mourned the quiet when you finally spoke.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you asked in that soft way he always envisioned you would.

Soft so he’d know it was just a courtesy.

That you didn’t want him to leave.

“Uh, yeah, yes I would,” he stumbled over the words a bit, trying not to sound too eager but wanting you to know he would work a thousands shifts at the reception desk if it meant you held him for just a second longer.

“Good,” you sighed.

He felt you scoot down the bed and flopped onto his back so you could settle your head on his chest and drape an arm across his stomach. After another few minutes he felt you go limp at his side, soft and relaxed as you slipped away into dreams.

But though his muscles ached and his eyes felt heavy, Jin resisted the call to sleep.

He didn’t need to now.

You were here, in the flesh, and he could study you intently while his eyes were open.

No need for his brain to conjure up scattered images of you.

Because he had you now, tucked safely under his arm for him to keep and hold and fuck and love the way he wanted.

So there was no more need for sleep.

And no need for dreams.

[whenimaunicorn]

Playing House - Part 12

“I got the high score on your game, and now, I’m going to get the high score on your girl.”

Hvitserk x f!Reader, Ubbe x f!Reader Words: 6336

It’s here, the frat bro pornfest! No new warnings for this installment, we’ve got the standard rough sex, D/s dynamics, and gratuitous use of “dude” and “bro.” Also the disaster above the text is what you get when I make my own covers.

Catch up:  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

“Like,” you furrow your brow, trying to catch up, “with a stopwatch?”

“Yeah,” Ubbe answers. “You squeeze me when you’re starting to come, and I’ll hit the button. Then I turn it off when you can breathe again.”

You lick your lips. “And whoever can give me the longest orgasm is the winner?”

“Oh yeah.” Hvitserk squeezes your thighs, making you jump just a little as his fingers press into the bottom of your bruising ass.

“That’s ridiculous,” you say, but you don’t sound like you mean it.

His fingertips slide deeper under the edge of your shorts, playing with the flesh left tender by Ubbe’s spanking. “Hey, if you don’t want to play my nice game, I can try one of your mean ones . . .”

“I didn’t say that,” you rush to correct, although it certainly turns you on even more when Hvitserk digs his fingers right into your sore cheeks, until you writhe and hiss above him. “Who starts?”

Hvitserk switches back to nice touches, palming your ass in hearty handfuls. His brow cocks, and he turns to Ubbe. “Home field advantage, bro. You go first.”

Ubbe reaches around your shoulders and, with a playful growl, pulls you bodily off his brother. He tucks your back in against his front, so you’re still facing Hvitserk, now seated on the center cushion of the couch between them. Ubbe’s hands come up around your body, curling possessively over your breasts as he mouths at your neck just below your ear. Home field advantage, indeed. He already knows exactly what you like, and you feel like you’re already halfway there just from all the lust pervading the room.

Ubbe pops the clasp of your bra, freeing your tits for Hvitserk’s eyes. And his own hands. After he tosses your bra he’s scooping them up from underneath, presenting them toward his brother, squeezing and teasing your nipples rather than covering them up until Hvitserk looks like he might start drooling from the show.

“I thought we decided I’d get top half first,” he finally says, leaning in toward you.

“Just warming her up,” Ubbe purrs against your neck, then releases your breasts and pushes you softly forward. “Here you go.”

Hvitserk catches you in a kiss as you lean into him, deceptively sweet before he palms both your breasts. Ubbe’s fingers tickle at the backs of your thighs, and then he’s stripping you, pushing shorts and panties together down your hips. So much for showing off that matching set. You get up on your hands and knees to help it happen.

Naked between both of them now. You have to stop kissing Hvitserk to let Ubbe get you into the position he wants from you. Hvitserk keeps helping himself to your tits as you end up with your back propped up against him, the rest of your body laying along the couch so Ubbe can get his face in between your legs.

You’ve said it before; Ubbe loves eating pussy. You’ve never had it so good from anyone. Unless Hvitserk has acquired some sort of unfathomable, god-like secrets of the female body, you don’t know how he’s going to possibly outdo his older brother. Ubbe already knows exactly what you like. He kisses along your body before nestling between your thighs, then opens you up boldly with his tongue. He closes in on your favorite spot with the steady confidence of a master, his hot tongue starting broad but never failing to hit you squarely at just the right angle with every pass.

This may be a competition, but Hvitserk is not being stingy with his assistance. His hands continue to play with your nipples, almost idly, like he absolutely can’t help himself. And the raspy way he’s breathing in your ear while he toys with your body – he’s making Ubbe’s job too easy. Caught between the two of them like this, your breath starts hitching almost before you’ve really had a chance to settle in and enjoy this crazy scenario.

“You’re close,” Hvitserk says.

“Uh huh,” you reply. It comes out throaty little sexpot voice.

Ubbe growls with pride, the vibration of it against your clit ratcheting you up yet another notch closer to release.

Hvitserk’s hands leave your breasts. One digs in his pocket, producing his phone so, just as they had said, he can open a stopwatch app. That alone should be killing the mood, but then Ubbe presses his fingers inside you and you realize there really is no going back for you. Nothing is too juvenile, or ridiculous, when the Lothbrok boys are the ones asking you for it.

Long, cool fingers wrap around your own. Hvitserk is holding your hand. “Squeeze me when you start coming,” he rasps in your ear. You can hear the excitement behind his instructional tone. This is so fucked-up, and they both love it.

Ubbe goes in for his grand finale. He finds that perfect angle, from both inside and out now, and works you relentlessly.

“Ooooh…” your moaning starts, and just as that wave of pleasure crests you clench your fingers around Hvitserk’s hand.

You hold your breath. The orgasm rocks you hard, your naked body writhing against Hvitserk’s chest, your cheek rubbing into his t-shirt and you hope you’re not going to drool on him. You had been a little worried that knowing your orgasm would be timed might be too much pressure, might make it slip away as soon as it’s crested like you’ve experienced in less-than-ideal situations before, but Ubbe is too good for that, this situation is apparently too hot for that, and you’re sure that clock is running even longer than you ever expected as the pleasure spirals in wave after wave through your core underneath Ubbe’s relentless tongue.

You suck in one gasping breath and then hold it again, somewhere in the middle there. You keep it in even after the ecstasy begins to fade, and maintain your death grip on Hvitserk’s hand. Hvitty’s a cool guy, but Ubbe’s your guy, right? One of them, at least. It’s easy to follow the urge to cheat the clock a little on his behalf. Exaggerate the results by a few more heartbeats. He deserves it. And it feels good to pick him over someone else for once.

Finally you slump, going limp in Hvitserk’s arms except for a few twitches as Ubbe finishes up with one last swipe of his tongue. He embraces your thighs, nestling in against one leg and gasping a little himself.

“Twenty-two seconds,” Hvitserk reads, “very nice, bro.”

Ubbe nips at your thigh, with affection. “She’s amazing.”

Four hands move across your body, enhancing your afterglow. Ubbe makes his way down your legs as Hvitserk sets his phone to the side and runs his palms up your flanks.

Coming as hard as that might make a girl sleepy, but under the movement of those hands you feel electrified, like every one of your nerve endings has been turned on now, and the possibilities for pleasure are only just beginning.

Ubbe comes up to his knees between your legs, leaning forward and scooping you up with a hand in your hair to meet his insistent kiss. You sit up between them, enjoying the slight soreness of your spanked ass rubbing bare against the couch cushion, and savor Hvitserk’s hands as they caress down your back to your hips. “Time to switch,” you ask between Ubbe’s kisses, “or will there be an interlude?”

Ubbe makes an interested sound as your hands run down to his crotch. As you expected, he’s rock hard and swelling into your touch.

“When we’re alone,” you croon, “you’re usually making me return a favor like that almost immediately.”

Ubbe responds by pushing your head firmly downwards.

One of the best parts about being a sub is that you’re not responsible for managing anything about a scene. Nothing but your own hard limits, of course. But something simple like this, deciding whether this is okay, or if Hvitserk will find this too rude or feel left out . . . that’s not your job to consider. Ubbe’s forcing your face down to his crotch and that’s the only thing that has to be in your world right now.

He sighs as you open up his jeans, releasing the pressure that had to be quite restrictive for him all this time. Neither of the boys have taken off a stitch of clothing, you realize, and here you are fully naked on your hands and knees between them.

Ubbe reaches in and pulls his erection out through the fly of his boxer briefs. Does It count as him getting a little more naked, if he’s immediately pulling your mouth over to swallow it up?

You always kind of think about channeling your inner snake when sucking Ubbe off, as you just about unhinge your jaw to fit that slab of meat he’s packing into your mouth. It’s worth it for the sounds he makes, though. This time he’s holding himself back, probably trying to look tough with his brother present, but his guttural grunts and muttered curses when you swirl your tongue just right are close enough to the full show. He keeps his hand on the back of your neck, too, not exactly controlling your movements but certainly keeping you on-task down there.

As your head came down to meet Ubbe’s cock, your hindquarters rose. Hvitserk is certainly getting an eyeful of your ass and whatever he can glimpse of your pussy between your bare thighs, with your knees only slightly spread for balance up on the couch cushion. It takes him longer than you expect to reach out and start exploring what’s on offer with his fingertips.

He starts low on your thighs, tracing up toward your naughty bits lightly. You arch your back a little more, encouraging him. His fingernails graze over the widest part of your ass.

The longer it takes him to come close to your pussy, the more you’re silently begging him to. You’re working your mouth up and down over Ubbe’s cock, relishing your lover’s taste and scent, sure, but you’re also quite distracted by thoughts of what Hvitserk’s looking at and what he’s going to do next.

When his thumb finally slides down to the edge of your pussy lips you moan, loudly, the sound made even more pornographic by the way Ubbe’s choking cock distorts it. Perhaps Hvitserk understands it as encouragement, because his thumb keeps sliding, up and down, in a confident delineation of the edges of your sex. You moan some more. It’s actually quite fun to hear the ways the sounds come out in garbled and staccato bursts as Ubbe’s hand urges your mouth faster and deeper.

“Fuck, keep making those sounds,” Ubbe says.

Hvitserk does his part, continuing to tease your cunt, not doing anything very specific or intense, just exploring and tantalizing and waking everything up all over again. He finds your clit and bats at it just a little, then spirals away again to swirl his fingertip at your very entrance.

“Fuck, this pussy,” Hvitserk groans through his teeth. “I want to fuck it so bad.”

You arch your back even more, almost trying to force yourself over his fingers as you continue on fastidiously with the job in front of you.

Ubbe speaks for you. “Go ahead, dude. I think there’s still condoms in the drawer.”

Hvitserk’s pressure increases, just a little bit. “Not yet.” He traps your clit between his fingers and pinches. “Still gotta win that contest. I need to keep my head in the game. I get off now, I lose my edge.”

You can’t fucking take it. You slide up off Ubbe’s cock with a popping sound so you can plead with Hvitserk. “Just a little, then? Just fuck it a little.” He’s making you too fucking crazy to keep quiet. “I want you, Hvitserk.”

“Honey, you think I can get in this cute little pussy of yours and stop myself before I blow? No one’s that strong.”

“Speaking of blowing . . .” Ubbe’s coaxing your mouth back over his dick before you can answer, using your scalp to hold you steady as he starts to fuck up into your face. Your aroused little moans turn helpless around the rough thrusting of his cock, while Hvitserk gifts you with a fraction of what you want by pressing one blessed finger inside.

“Swallow it all,” Ubbe tells you, his voice gone breathy and thin. “Don’t spill a drop.”

You fuck yourself back over Hvitserk’s long finger as Ubbe’s pace increases, spurring himself on to blast his seed into the back of your throat. Swallowing is certainly the easiest way to make sure you don’t choke.

He shudders inside your mouth, holding you close while he pants and decides he’s really done. You savor the last moments of Ubbe’s cock in your mouth. Hvitserk slowed down when your body stopped rocking, but never really stopped: in, out. In, out. That finger keeps sliding, to remind you. Ubbe’s done, but you’re not. Not. Even. Close.

When Ubbe finally releases your face, you suck him clean as you pull back and then lift your head. You hold the rest of your body still, unwilling to interrupt Hvitserk’s steady rhythm inside you. Ubbe wraps his hand under your chin, guiding you to look up at him.

His eyes are sleepy around the edges, but still sparkling. You watch them track quickly over your face. “You’re up, Hvitserk,” he says, amused. “She looks ready.”

Unfortunately, this makes Hvitserk stop fingering you. You turn towards him with a whine.

He meets your eyes and smirks. “Definitely ready. Lay down.”

You spread yourself along the couch as Hvitserk slides down off it, guiding your legs to open where he can easily reach you from his knees on the floor. Your head doesn’t fit in Ubbe’s lap from this position; you’re lying flat on your back across the middle of the couch, with your face next to his hip. He reaches down and cups your cheek, dragging his thumb idly over your skin.

It feels a little more vulnerable, to be laid out like this. Which enhances the thrill of knowing that a man you barely know is between your spread legs, staring at your most intimate places. Hvitserk lets his hot breath steam over your wet and needy entrance, building the anticipation. Hands caress the insides of your thighs, then his thumb starts sliding in to open you up.

You can feel how wet you’ve become from the ease with which he parts your inner lips. You moan and arch as Hvitserk drags that moisture up to lubricate your clit, letting him draw easy circles around the sensitive button.

When he leans in to replace his thumb with his mouth, it’s gentle, almost a kiss. Then he sucks on your clit and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Fuck, you look good like this,” Ubbe mutters. He leans forward and scoops up both your breasts with his hands. “I’m going to get hard again already.”

A nervous giggle slips out as you ponder how you might get caught in an endless cycle of cocks after this. If watching you with one is only going to keep turning the other one on again. Perhaps you’re fortunate that Ubbe and Ivar never try to have you at the same time like this. A girl can only take so much.

Hvitserk, it turns out, is not an idle boaster. His competence at eating pussy is instantly apparent. His tongue glides hungrily to all the right places, and when you look down, the dark satisfaction in his hooded eyes makes you feel like you’re caught in a filthy monster’s jaws.

You can’t even track what exactly he’s doing down there. All you know is that the pleasure is surging, from every square millimeter that his lips and tongue touch. He slips two fingers inside you, and rocks them in such a way that you swear he’s found something inside there that no one else has ever noticed before. Your whole body is singing.

An obnoxious noise brings you just a little bit back down to earth. One of Ubbe’s hands leaves your chest, the other left gently cupping one tit.

“It’s Ivar,” Ubbe says, scooping Hvitserk’s vibrating phone off the table.

Hvitserk sucks you hard before lifting his mouth, drawing a strangled cry from you. You realize you’ve been making all kinds of crazy noises for the past few minutes. “Let him listen,” the arrogant boy responds.

Ivar’s voice is faint, but you can hear it, issuing forth from the phone hovering above you in Ubbe’s hand. His tone is impatient, as usual: “Hvitserk, you there?”

His brother has dropped his mouth back between your legs, sucking at you in time to the curl of his fingertips deep inside. There’s no way to keep yourself from moaning, and making ragged little sounds whenever you try to breathe.

“Interesting.” Ivar drags out the first syllable. You don’t hear anything from him for a while, and then, he says your name. “Can you hear me?”

You turn your next moan upward, into a whiny little “uh huh!”

Hvitserk is not letting you get any more lucid than that.

“Are you showing Hvitserk your best hospitality?” Ivar asks, his Dom voice apparent even from this distance. Ubbe’s thumb moves and his voice gets louder. “Doesn’t sound like it,” Ivar continues, chastising you on speaker. “It sounds like you’re being quite selfish.”

Is Hvitserk getting you in trouble right now? The movement of his tongue only intensifies, threatening to turn your steady moans into squeals. Your legs are starting to shake as heat floods your core.

“What are they doing to you over there?” Ivar continues. “I don’t hear Ubbe, but I’m sure he’s lurking about.”

If he’s expecting you to answer, he’s going to be disappointed. No way you’re capable of speech.

“I hope you are enjoying yourself,” Ivar says, continuing on as a monologue. “And I hope that you’re looking forward to being punished later, for being such a bad girl. Making our guest work so hard for your own selfish, wicked pleasure.” Every word goes straight to your cunt, helping Hvitserk build you toward an orgasm that promises to be a screamer. “You’re the one that should have your mouth full right now, greedy girl. I see that you can’t be trusted to be left alone. We will begin… some much stricter training when I get home.” Fuck. “I’m sure Hvitserk won’t mind helping me teach you better manners. Are you close, greedy girl? I hear your voice changing. Enjoy it, because it might be the last one that you get for a long, long time.”

Between Ivar’s words and Hvitserk’s skills, you don’t stand a fucking chance. You clutch behind you to find Ubbe’s hand, barely remembering the rules of the contest in time as this pleasure starts to climax.

“Wait,” Ubbe huffs, “gotta get the stopwatch.”

Ivar’s chuckle drips out of the phone while Ubbe fumbles with it. He may have had some choice words for what these two gorgeous, sexy idiots are up to, but you only hear him get as far as “Are you two—” before a rushing in your ears takes over and you lose consciousness of anything else but the tidal wave of pleasure crashing through your body.

Hvitserk is relentless. He doesn’t slow the intensity a bit, pushes you through your screaming, writhing orgasm with the dedication of a pit bull as he just hits that magic spot over and over and over. You’re shaking and gasping before it’s done, and when the peak turns to oversensitivity he’s still determined to wring a few more seconds out of you, doesn’t stop until your thighs try to clench shut around his head in a helpless attempt to push him away.

You’re left panting as Ubbe announces the time above your head. “Thirty-four seconds.”

“And you started late,” Hvitserk points out. He’s panting too.

“And I started late,” Ubbe admits.

So much for your attempt at cheating on Ubbe’s behalf. Hvitserk sure as hell won fair and square. If Ivar’s little participation doesn’t count.

Wait. Is Ivar still on the phone?

“I take it Hvitserk is the winner.”

Yep. He’s there.

Hvitserk wipes his mouth as he rises from the ground, lifting one of your legs to roll you out of his way so he can resume his seat on the end of the couch. He nestles himself against your naked hip and reaches out his upturned hand to Ubbe, silently asking for his phone back.

You expect him to speak, but all you hear is the descending tone indicating an ended call. Hvitserk tosses his phone back on the table with a dismissive sound. You think you might even see a trace of a snarl on his lip as you look up at him through your post-orgasmic haze.

Then all his attention is back on you. You watch his greedy eyes run all over your body, from your upturned hip to the curve of your tilted waist, your bare breasts and your parted, panting mouth. “What were you saying earlier?” he asks, leaning in with a conspiratorial smile. “Something about want me to ‘fuck it just a little?’”

You nod breathlessly as he climbs further over your body. His hooded eyes look predatory now, and if somehow Ivar made him mad then he definitely seems ready to take it out on you. He gives your hip a little smack, watching how the impact makes you jiggle, then inspects your face while he gives you another one.

“You like it rough, huh?”

You nod, and twist your body to present your ass to him even better. Honestly you feel like your pussy is about to start dripping on the couch, so it also doesn’t hurt to get it further away from the cushions.

He nods too, thoughtfully. “There’s this position I like. Not every girl can handle it.”

Ubbe makes an interested noise above you. “She can handle a lot.”

“So I keep hearing.” Hvitserk taps at your ass. “Up.”

He stands at the same time as you do, and you don’t miss the way he readjusts himself inside his pants. He pulls you in close for a kiss, pressing your naked body fully against his clothes.

He whips his shirt off. Finally. “There are condoms around here?”

“Yes,” you say, dropping to your knees to open one of the little drawers at the base of the coffee table. You and Ubbe had scattered them all over the house before he made his monogamy pledge and the tests had come back clean. You turn back to Hvitserk, presenting him the little package in your palms.

He makes a happy little noise in the back of his throat. “I like the way you look down there.” He loosens his belt. “Now I’m thinking you need to stay on your knees and show me what that sweet mouth can do.”

You nod, eagerly, as you watch him get his dick out and step closer to your face. You meet it with your tongue, wrapping a hand around his shaft to keep him pointed down where you can reach.

There’s something extra fun about a blowjob that you don’t intend to finish. You lick around the head of his cock like it’s a lollypop, pausing to give him playful eye contact and then watching him watch you swallow it up.

Ubbe’s the one that groans. When you flick your eyes over to him he’s got one hand thrust into his own pants like he’s gearing up for round two. “You look so good. Teasing it like that.”

You can’t help yourself. You keep your eyes locked onto Ubbe while pulling Hvitserk a little closer, giving his shaft little kitten licks.

“You are fucking hot as hell, darlin’,” Hvitserk says, looking straight down the line of his body at you. “But I’ve had enough teasing tonight. Come up over here.”

He leads you to the side of the couch and bends you over the armrest.

“Saw this in a porno once.” He kicks at your legs until you spread them a little further apart. “Stop me if it’s not working for you. But I think you’re flexible enough.”

He pushes down between your shoulders until your chest hits the couch. You relax the side of your face into the cushion and just go with it. Now your hips are higher than the rest of your body, and quite decently supported by the plush armrest. Not hard so far. There must be something more coming.

You hear the sound of the condom wrapper opening. Ubbe shifts above your head, but you resist the temptation to check and see what he’s doing on his end of the couch. Ivar’s right; you’ve been selfish. You must give your full submission to Hvitserk now, and show him that you are doing exactly as he instructs. No more, no less, and no looking at his brother.

You know you’re wet but he spits on his fingers and works a little added lubrication into you anyway.

“I liked the way you were begging,” he comments, voice husky as you feel him moving in closer. “Think I can make you beg a little more?”

“Oh, Hvitserk, please.” You angle your hips up even higher, offering yourself to him. You’re positively aching to be filled up, after all this.

“Please what?” You feel the brush of something thicker than fingers against your slick entrance.

You take a breath. “Please fuck me until I can’t walk straight.”

“That is definitely the plan.” He pushes into you slow, the second Lothbrok you’ve let go balls-deep into you now. He’s not as thick as Ubbe but that hardly matters, not when you’re swollen with need and reveling in the fact that this one wants you too, bad enough to throw shame out the window and fuck you right in front of his brother. “Fuuuuck.” He presses in deep and just stays there a minute, hands gripping your ass tight.

You buck your hips up against him, although you don’t have much leverage with your belly in the couch and your legs spread so wide.

He grunts and answers your enthusiasm with his own, starting to bounce against you in measured thrusts. “Ungh, I knew you had a sweet little pussy. Are you happy to share it with me?”

“Yes,” you wail, as he pounds you harder, the friction electrifying every nerve ending they hadn’t already fried out with that pussy-eating competition.

“You gonna share it with me all week?”

“Uh huh!”

“And you can you really handle that? Three guys telling you what to do around here? Keeping this pussy full?”

“M-mhmm.”

“What was that?”

“Yes! I’ll find a way.”

“Good.” His thrusts have settled into a quick, steady rhythm. “Arch your back more.”

You really have to press your chest into the couch, and come up to your tiptoes when it feels like you can barely reach the floor as it is, but you manage it. It makes his thrusts feel deeper, threatening to bottom out against your cervix.

“Now give me your arms.”

This must be it. The thing that other girls won’t do. You give up supporting your body with your forearms, twisting them both behind your back instead. It puts a lot of your weight on your face and upper chest, the only things left to support the bouncing impacts of his thrusting, but it’s manageable. Fingers wrap around your wrists, straightening your arms back behind you. He’s using them like handles now, to pull your arched body over his cock. It’s rough, but you can take it. You’re just flexible enough.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” Hvitserk croons.

“You’re telling me,” Ubbe says. His voice is coming from the side now. You open your eyes to see that he’s left the couch for the coffee table, sitting right across from your face where he can get the best view of your contorted figure. “Think you can lift your feet off the ground, wrap them behind him?”

You try. Lifting your legs like that clenches your pelvic floor, which makes Hvitserk yelp and then fuck you harder. Now you’ve got absolutely no control at all, laying on your face and getting fucked down into the cushions. You might be drooling. There’s nothing to be done for it if you are.

You wouldn’t be able to stay like this for long, but it doesn’t seem like you’re going to have to. Hvitserk’s making this drawn-out humming sort of noise, he’s so into it, pistoning into you at an accelerating rate that suggests he’s barreling toward climax.

“This is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Ubbe says. You want him to shut up so he doesn’t make Hvitserk uncomfortable, but these two do seem to have some kind of established groove for this already. And hearing him tell you how sexy this outrageously acrobatic pose is does make it easier for you to hang on in it for a little longer. It’s not an angle that’s going to get you off, but ferocious pleasure rings through your body anyway.

“Ahh—” Hvitserk’s rising wail almost sounds desperate, and then he forces air between his teeth as he grinds himself even deeper into you.

You don’t complain as he crushes you just a little more. It’s obvious that he’s reveling in a prolonged, ecstatic climax, and you’re certainly not going to begrudge him anything less than the thirty-four seconds of bliss he so recently finished giving you.

But when he gasps the end of his release, and his body stops clenching, you’re tugging your arms out of his grip, grateful to untwist your shoulders and get the pressure off your neck.

“Fuck—thanks. Fuck,” he pants. “That was incredible.” He stays inside you. You feel his forehead drop to the middle of your back as you both start letting your muscles relax one by one. You like the way his hair feels on your skin.

An insistent, gorilla-like grunt emanates from somewhere above your head. “My turn,” Ubbe says, and his hands wrap around your forearms.

“Dude,” Hvitserk exhales. “Give me a fucking minute!” His hips writhe against you. “She feels so fucking good . . .”

You feel Ubbe take a seat on the couch next to your head, but he does not release your arms. His grip flexes impatiently, but at least he’s not pulling you bodily out from underneath his brother.

“She probably needs a rest too, dude,” Hvitserk continues, his breath warming your skin. “A little recovery time from all that.” As if realizing he was barely following his own advice, he withdraws himself carefully from your body and lets you move your legs more comfortably back together.

“Nah, she’s better than that,” Ubbe rumbles, voice thick and rich and proud. “She takes dick like a champ.” His fingers tickle under your chin until you look up at him. “You want two in a row, don’t you babe.” The gleam in his eye tells you he’s fully recovered from his last orgasm, and absolutely ready to go.

Hvitserk is being very nice. But is nice really what you want? You probably wouldn’t be in this position if that was the case. “Yeah,” you say, answering Ubbe’s growling with your own throaty sex kitten moan.

Ubbe’s blue eyes blaze and he tugs you towards him. Your legs wobble a little as you climb around the arm of the couch. Hvitserk’s promise kept. Ubbe sees your weakness and scoops you up, like any good predator would.

He whirls you around, getting you underneath his body as your back presses into the armrest of his side of the couch. He can only kiss you once, as sloppy as he is passionate, before he’s struggling with his pants.

That glorious erection is rock-hard as you help him free it from his clothing. He wastes no time pushing himself into you, as if he took Hvitserk’s dirty talk about “keeping this pussy full” quite seriously.

You might be just a little bit sore. That hardly matters when Ubbe gets his rhythm going, the aching only adding to the decadent pleasure of back-to-back fuckings.

He’s got one foot on the floor, giving him ridiculous leverage to split you open against the corner of the couch. You throw your arms around his neck and brace yourself, looking over his shoulder at Hvitserk’s sleepy-cat smile as the boy catches his breath while watching you get impaled.

“Touch yourself,” says Ubbe, shifting to pull your hand down between your bodies, flexing his fucking abs to curl his body and give you room as he continues to pound.

“Ivar said—”

“Don’t you want one more, before he makes that threat official?”

Fuck. Good point. See, Ubbe can be nice too. You let your fingers fly.

“I want to feel you cum all over my dick,” he grunts out, his pace increasing as he seems to turn himself on even more with just the thought. “And I want to hear it, too.”

It doesn’t take long. Your poor pussy shivers under Ubbe’s onslaught, the clenching of your muscles as you hold yourself up against it magnifying the oncoming orgasm into something that makes you want to scream like some kind of wild shieldmaiden between your teeth.

And Ubbe wanted to hear you. So you do. That sizzling pleasure radiates out of your core until your lower half locks up, clamping around him so hard that even his punishing pace has to slow.

When you suck in your next breath and the sound of your own voice fades, you hear Ubbe gasping. He’s coming too, locked down in your throbbing pussy. You stay like that, clenched tight and pressing up against him, for a few more breaths while your climax fades only slowly. You actually felt your inner walls milking him. Drawing that seed deep up inside you.

You release a throaty sigh and finally let your body unwind.

Ubbe presses his forehead against yours. “Fuck, princess,” he breathes. “How do you keep getting more amazing?”

You end up sprawled along the couch between them, your head in Hvitserk’s lap while Ubbe massages every kink out of the big muscles of your legs. You don’t feel self-conscious to still be naked. You feel like nothing less than a classical goddess. Something the masters would line up to paint, and even more; the utterly feminine deity that men have immortalized in clay and enshrined on cave walls since the dawn of the human capacity to think. Nothing more natural in the world than your naked, beloved body.

Which doesn’t mean that you’re not grateful when Ubbe spreads a warm blanket over you, when his massaging hands have mostly finished. Sure, you were going to spend the afternoon cleaning this room, but your eyes are drifting closed in the post-sex haze now. They’ll turn the game back on, won’t they, and let you take a little nap across their laps first.

But you don’t hear the TV turn back on. Not yet. Instead, a conversation begins above your dozing head.

“You do this with Ivar, dude?”

Ubbe shifts underneath your leg before he responds. “Not like this.”

Hvitserk makes a soft sound. “Didn’t think so.” There’s a pause, long enough to tempt you back into sleep, but you really want to hear if they’re going to say anything more about this. Hvitserk has known them his whole life. He probably has some insight that would be valuable for you to know. You shift a little in his lap though, making sure he knows you’re still awake. Wouldn’t be right to actually eavesdrop.

His hand comes to your head, stroking gently across your hair. “Can't believe Ivar's really sharing with you, dude.”

“Maybe I'm sharing with him.”

Hvitserk just laughs.

You open your eyes to see Ubbe shrugging. “It’s working out so far. I let him lead.”

“I didn’t think you could do that.”

Ubbe leans forward over your feet, grabbing his forgotten bottle off the coffee table. “He’s grown a lot, since we were all at home.” He takes a thoughtful swig. “I probably have, too.” He makes eye contact with you for a second, possibly acknowledging the awkwardness of talking about these things over your head, but doesn’t say anything that might draw you into the conversation.

Not that you have anything to say. You’re just soaking up every little piece of information you can get.

Your face is pointed away from Hvitserk; although you’re in his lap, you can’t really see anything of him but his knee.

“Well, it’s the only thing I’ve ever found that works with him. Ivar has to be the one in control, or it doesn’t go well.”

“You say that like I haven’t been living with him for years, too, dude.”

“I’m saying it because it’s hard to believe you can really pull that off. You’ve always had to kind of be the top dog yourself, dude.”

Ubbe’s fingers stroke you underneath the blanket. “Some things are worth a little compromise.”

Hvitserk bounces your head just a little. “What do you think? Is Ubbe ever really not the boss?” You rouse yourself, twisting your body until your face is pointed up at Hvitserk’s. “Pretty much ran the show today, didn’t he?”

You consider your answer, glancing between their waiting faces. At least they’re both smiling. This is not an answer you need to feel worried about crafting too carefully. “I think it was pretty natural for him to guide things today,” you say, looking up into Hvitserk’s eyes, “since you and I had never—” you trail off self-consciously as you stare up into that gorgeous face.

Hvitserk squeezes you up in his arms, and his smile turns mischievous. “But now we are very familiar with each other. Aren’t we.”

You nod, suddenly breathless again.

“You want to keep playing with me, while I’m in town?”

You smile and nod harder.

“Good,” Ubbe says, his hand running up your leg. “Cuz by my count, we’re not exactly done here. You got me off twice. Hvitserk only nutted once. That’s not right,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s our guest. You should spend tonight in bed with him, at the very least.”

And why do you get the feeling Ubbe’s going to find an excuse to be involved in that, too?

“No offense,” Hvitserk says, “but that’s the kind of shit I’m talking about, dude. Telling us what to do. You let anything not be Ivar’s idea, man, and you’re done.” Hvitserk’s gaze swivels back down to meet yours. “If he can’t hold some of that shit back,” he tells you, a smirk twisting up his cheek, “you’re never going to be able to have the both of them at the same time.”

Taglist is open:  @hanhanxx @xxdearlybeloved​@littledeadrottinghood @persephone-is-here-omg​ @rekdreams247​ @inforapound​​ @creepshowzombae @tomarisela​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @walkxthexmoon​​@funmadnessandbadassvikings @trashqueenbitch @justlovelifeblog​​ @earl-aive​​ @supernaturalvikingwhore​​ @equalstrashflavoredtrash​​ @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen​​ @ceridwenofwales​​ @grungyblonde​​ @pokeasleepingsmaug​​ @hvittysmutanon​​ @honestsycrets​​ @wuxiesalt @thorins-queen-of-erebor​​ @writingfromasgard​​ @tootie-fruity​​ @lordsexmachine​​ @uncomfortable-writers​​ @sadbutatleastsassy​​ @sweatstreatz01 @ritual-unions-gotme​​ @likealostkiss​​ @thehangedmanandthehoneybee @xxlilqueeniexx @thefightingdragon​​ @xbergiex​​ @artemiseamoon​​ @ivarinleatherpants​​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @michael-guerin​​ @chibisgotovalhalla​​  @heavenly1927​​ @writingsnmusings​​

[hiriajuu-suffering]

Anime Hot Take: Goblin Slayer is more offensive than Redo of Healer

I totally understand why the anime community is collectively freaking about Redo of Healer not getting cancelled by normies like Shield Hero, Ishuzoku Reviewers, and Uzaki-chan. A lot of anime content creators are saying because anime [social] cancellation is based on clout chasing and it’s because Redo of Healer is a bad anime, and I disagree completely because Uzaki-chan is also a bad anime. As excessively raunchy Redo of Healer is, its offensiveness has more narrative backing than Goblin Slayer does for its world-building.

Elephant in the room: depictions of rape are poor artistic choices when the physical act is shown instead of heavily implied for the narrative. Both Goblin Slayer and Redo of Healer depict rape onscreen to get more attention for being edgy and raunchy, needlessly. People finding Shield Hero more offensive for involving a false rape allegation are missing the forest for the trees and there is no rape in Ishuzoku Reviewers. Goblin Slayer uses its rape scenes to objectify people we’re supposed to see from the perspective of, very clearly. Meaning, Goblin Slayer is asking for a self-objectification in order for you to be invested in the main casts’ goals. The effect of this is Goblin Slayer is really only showing these gratuitous rape scene(s) for shock value. Goblin Slayer is a Fantasy, not specifically an Isekai Revenge Fantasy like Redo of Healer is. Redo of Healer uses its rape scenes to subjectify people we’re supposed to see from the perspective of, making it fundamentally different and more aligned with Game of Thrones depictions of rape than Redo of Healer. In episode 1 of Redo of Healer, the main character is subjectified, not objectified. In episode 1 of Goblin Slayer, the rape scene objectifies the woman. The only other conclusion hyperfeminism could have to this incongruity is media that portrays sexual violence is more acceptable when male sexual violence is on the forefront, which is fucked. In episode 2 of Redo of Healer, the first antagonist is a female and the rape scene itself is sick and cruel, but not gratuitous in the way Goblin Slayer handles its rape scenes. Again, the character is subjectified and not objectified, which makes a lot of difference if media makes the morally abhorrent but logical choice to depict rape for views because it works. Redo of Healer already starts on better footing than Goblin Slayer because a central theme in Goblin Slayer is the objectification of life and experience while Redo of Healer works in that same theme with the subjectification of people’s lives and experiences.

Redo of Healer is ultimately a power fantasy like most other Isekai are, Goblin Slayer is intended to make you feel powerless. There is some subtlety in the way the author puts forward the narrative of “power makes people bad” in Redo of Healer, while the narrative choices in Goblin Slayer directly portray the message of “no matter how much power you have, you cannot affect the world”. Both are a criticism of power fantasy, but Redo of Healer is actually within its genre doing so, not looking from the outside-in and acting above the genre itself when it has taken over the anime industry. The plot structure in Goblin Slayer reads as if it’s better than the Isekai trend, making itself pretentious and thereby worse than the trend because it’s just mocking something popular because it’s popular. Redo of Healer actually looks into why this popularity exists and if it’s legitimately warranted or just feeding the vanity of its readers. In the first two episodes, the narrative has all this suffering going on written in a way so the reader actively disconnects from the normally self-insert protagonist in an Isekai. Goblin Slayer literally does the opposite with Priestess. The self-insert scenes in Redo of Healer are actually the opposite because they structure themselves in that way but do the opposite, you don’t want to be in any of those situations. When you weigh moral wrongs and aren’t afraid of playing the oppression Olympics for the sake of philosophical conjecture, Keyaru is enacting retribution in a manner reciprocally efficient or less compared to what he endured. You can see that via his intended final act of retribution of Flare being to make her his consensual sex object rather than everyone’s nonconsensual sex object as he originally was. The finger-breaking was his exchange for the deception, involuntary servitude, and general lack of empathy; regrettably, the sexual assault with bodily harmful object was for the forced drug addiction via symbolism analysis. He ends up healing all this anyway and not being overwhelmed by it, meaning everything he did was a small fraction of what had been done to him. It’s still revenge, but it’s nothing nearly as crazy as what was done to him and actually didn’t drag out as much as people say compared to goblin rape scenes in Goblin Slayer (some of them which didn’t need to exist narratively and were only there because author is insulting your intelligence, assuming you forgot it’s a thing because it assumes you’re an Isekai reader). Fair warning about Blade and Bullet though is they represent very real tropes on the social spectrum, Blade representing hyperfeminist ideologies to the point of outright misandry and Bullet representing men who degrade themselves just for being men, so a lot more people will have something to be butthurt about when that narrative realization comes to pass. Part of the way Redo of Healer compartmentalizes its characters into said tropes speaks to a larger picture of what the show intends to do, criticize the Isekai genre and its tropes instead of just mocking them like Goblin Slayer does.

The narrative structure of Redo of Healer reads like a hate letter to Isekai power fantasy writing, the narrative structure of Goblin Slayer reads like a roast to Isekai power fantasy writing. Hate letters are generally more honest and genuine than roasts, which sacrifice truth for the sake of being comedic. Goblin Slayer itself wasn’t even that funny though, it had moments but its humor was so self-contained, it only existed if you already were self-involved enough in the tropes, in which you were the one being roasted. Effectively, Goblin Slayer seeks to roast you with no audience, making the roast itself kind of pointless and belittling. Redo of Healer though criticizes Isekai writing on two fronts: the morality of the world (which Shield Hero already did pretty masterfully) and the reasonable scope of a self-insert protagonist. Living in a morally dark Isekai world that’s full of hell and suffering is something Rising of the Shield Hero did so well, it would be difficult to see it done better, but Redo of Healer follows the exact narrative thread Shield Hero does only in a far more sinister way. The difference is Redo of Healer takes the grinding element from Cautious Hero and totally removes the opportunity for it to be had and the end result is said self-insert Isekai protagonist being abused in the party instead of valued, it actually makes sense on a power scaling level if you place it in a world where the characterization of all humanity is made out to be shitty from the start (slave trading demi-humans, raping other people for mana, rulers with no actual empathy or morality, etc.). Redo of Healer’s setting emulates humanity from Chapter Black in Yu Yu Hakusho. In simpler terms, if any of these dudes popularizing Isekai self-inserts into Keyaru, they’re not overpowered for no reason like in other Isekais, they’re overpowered because they were already humbled to the extent where nothing could ever feel like redemption. Most of these people self-inserting probably aren’t as great as they think they are, but especially on the moral scale. Keyaru represents a broken version of that self-insert: a human that is fallible, can feel real negative emotions and act abhorrently on them, and isn’t overly resilient for plot convenience’s sake. Keyaru’s immensely busted skill comes at a heavy toll, meaning it was balanced but he broke it (like Maple did in Bofuri) because he was driven to madness. If you break the “overpowered for no reason” trope in both harem and Isekai, you ARE a criticism of both. Are there good anime that use this trope well? Slime is an example. But Kadokawa specifically has been tending to favor titles that are criticisms of Isekai rather than straight-up Isekais themselves, making this something they were willing to push to the forefront even though it borrows a little too much from hentai plots. If anything, Redo of Healer shows how frustrated the industry, from writer to publisher, has been with the Japanese otaku community when poorly written, power fantasy, self-insert shows like Sword Art Online become the face of otaku culture and starts a predatory profit-seeking trend of everything has to be Isekai for it to make money. Redo of Healer reaches for a larger criticism of why anime storytelling has gotten less substantive in the past decade and plunges its hands into the depths of the filth and degeneracy that’s being promoted. It’s a meta-criticism to make what you’re putting out there so horrific it becomes nearly impossible to connect with.

Do I like Redo of Healer? No, absolutely not. Do I think it sends a loud and clear message to viewers who know how to analyze a piece of fiction with good depth and nuance? Yes. Goblin Slayer does not do that, Goblin Slayer itself is just an amusement park ride you’re supposed to enjoy, but they jolt you with shock value to get you invested, making its plot threads and themes gimmicky at best. Redo of Healer actually does what Goblin Slayer was going for in shock value and makes you so numb to it you actually realize how devolved Isekai storytelling is, adding its attention grabbing mechanism as short hentai clips like Ishuzoku Reviewers did. As for why Shield Hero was mentioned so much, it’s because the characterization of Blade specifically goes after those who were trying to get Shield Hero cancelled for its narrative thread. Blade is the worst representation of that, worship and veneration of femininity in a patriarchal context which ultimately results in the worship of power and existing power structures which promote said power to the point where queerness (in love of femininity) somehow excuses deplorability since postmodern queerness never actively promotes masculinity as something that can function as socially just. Flare, Blade, and Bullet all show more toxic masculinity individually in the first 3 chapters/episodes than Keyaru, and that was a deliberate writing choice. The reason why Redo of Healer isn’t actively being socially cancelled is because its biggest statement is “people are shit” and that’s an okay statement for normies.

Normies are coming after Nagatoro because it normalizes and almost makes light of real bullying. I think us weeaboos need to understand that bullying is a higher impact problem than rape being depicted in media if we’re fighting on the hill of “violent video games don’t encourage violence”. I find Nagatoro more difficult to understand the narrative intent of than Redo of Healer, the fact the weeaboo community is disconnected from that means we’re only looking at things on the surface level and are too within ourselves to know what real world problems actually have ripple effects on human behavior. The reason why we accept Nagatoro is because we know the two main characters eventually become involved and Hachioji could handle it to the point he consented to it. In pretty much all scenarios you have a mean girl bullying someone, regardless of gender, that’s not what happens: the person is left scarred, changed, and with significant platonic trust issues into adulthood. Rape is an issue that’s handled with so little care because of patriarchy and power struggles, people are generally far more numb to it than seeing actual mental and verbal abuse just being glossed over because “he’s a guy, he’s less of one if he can’t handle it”. Anime generally is going the way of Scum’s Wish where there’s more morally abhorrent characterizations of humanity than morally neutral ones, and all of these anime that stir controversy is a reflection of said fact. Having said that, Redo of Healer is willing to go way farther down into the abyss instead of just looking at it from the edge of the hole like Goblin Slayer does, then seeing scenes for shock value when you use telescope to look. For the reason Goblin Slayer thinks it’s above an Isekai while commodifying abhorrence to draw attention, I actually find Redo of Healer to be less offensive.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Good morning! Whats your favorite show/movie? Who are your favorite characters? Why do you like them so much? Also!! Did you have a good sleep?

Okay so I was a film major for a while, and I have opinions. 

Penny Dreadful 

I love this show. Like, so much. I adore it. I can not get enough of that show. Just all of the imagery, and the fantastic writing and acting. The episode intro alone is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Eva Green is a goddess and I love everything she’s been in. The take on classic horror stories is So Good, and it actually became the inspiration for my Gay Frankenstein story! (Started as a stitch AU, and then went completely OC after I had Ideas) but the show itself is so intimate? I think it’s largely that the period they’re in, everything was so repressed and restricted. So when the characters break out of those moments, it’s more meaningful. And the love-hate relationship between Ms. Ives and Malcolm in season one? Exquisite.  I could literally write essay’s about this show, but I’ll restrain myself and just say: it’s the best ensemble show I’ve ever seen. The characters come together, but they also each have their own distinct lives that sometimes intersect, but in s2 especially, are quite separate. They are constant with one another like ensemble shows usually portray. Also gothic horror and romance? My absolute favorite. 

Anything by Guillermo del Toro

This man Owns My Entire Soul. I’m not even joking, everything he writes and directs is perfection. Crimson Peak is probably my favorite (I have a stitch AU for this too ;) ) because again, Gothic horror and romance. I’m a slut for that shit. Also Tom Hiddleston and Jessica Chastain? Delightful casting. I think it’s obvious by now that I love tragic relationships, so their dynamic is *chef’s kiss* amazing. they’re so damaged. And this quote right here is one of the BEST things I’ve ever read: 

“But the horror... The horror was for love. The things we do for love like this are ugly, mad, full of sweat and regret. This love burns you and maims you and twists you inside out. It is a monstrous love and it makes monsters of us all.”

Engrave that on my headstone, please?? I’ve got a sort-of Dorian Gray AU (it’s delightful) that’s basically built on this entire premise. Mitch makes the mistake of falling in love with Stiles, and does many terrible things because of it. Mostly to himself, at least. 

I think my love of Crimson Peak is very closely tied with The Shape of Water. another beautiful movie, I could wax poetic about this forever. it was beautifully written, and such an artistic movie. I love the way it was filmed, and the set design, and all of the subtle imagery. Such as Elisa’s apartment being cast in cooler tones, it always felt very damp and had evidence of water damage, compared to Giles’, a mirror image of her own, in more warm tones. This is another one I could (and have) write essays about. There is so much packed into this movie, from the themes on toxic masculinity and entitlement, to the conversation on queerness and race and disability, and how all the various relationships are portrayed. Like. there is so much to pick apart in this movie. 

Aside from that, ofc Hell Boy deserves an honorable mention because i grew up on those movies. I’m pretty sure the Golden Army especially is responsible for who I am today, given all the lore on the fae in that universe. Wow, that explains so much about me... Also one of my first WoW characters was an elf named Nuala xD I still have her, too, and it’s been like 12 years lol

Near-Future Sci-Fi

Sci-fi is one of my favorite genres, I am a huge nerd for theoretical and astrophysics. But my favorite kind of sci-fi is the stuff that still takes place on Earth, rather than epic battles in space. Ex Machina and Annihilation are at the top of that list. Alex Garland is another writer/director that I love. He has the same kind of approach as del Toro, where he puts a lot of fine details into his work. And I love that it’s very cerebral; there are so many layers to Ex Machina. My English 101 prof actually refused to analyze it in class when I suggested it to him, because he didn’t think my class could. Basically handle? Dissecting that movie? Because a lot of it comes across as very surface level, but in some cases when you look deeper, it’s actually suggesting the opposite of what you might think at first glance. (And he was right, my fellow students were awful. I miss that class though, it was one of my favorites T_T Mr. Ryder was an awesome dude and super chill.) 

Morgan is another good example. As you can see, I fucking love androids lol. Which brings me to another of my all time favorite movies: Cloud Atlas. I could literally watch this movie endlessly, I love it so much. The acting, the writing, the filming, all of it is top notch. And one thing they did in the movie that didn’t come across in the book, was reusing the same actors through the different eras in the book. That was just so neat, because it really encapsulates how connected these souls are, as we follow the threads of their story throughout time. If you haven’t seen the movie, I can’t recommend it enough.  

Another one I always think of alongside Cloud Atlas, even though they aren’t related at all, is Predestination. It’s a great movie that explores the idea of fate and free will in a really clever way, utilizes time travel in a very organized way that I think was neat (think Umbrella Academy. They even use briefcases! As you can see, I love sci-fi bureaucracy, it’s fun. In fact The Bureau is another movie I enjoyed) and the main character is actually, explicitly trans, which was cool. You basically get to see the entire story of their life, and I don’t want to spoil anything, but it’s just. So good. Mindfuckery galore. 

Shoot, and I almost forgot! Arrival! That is one of the best movies, and another one I could watch nonstop. It focuses on mathematics and linguistics and I swear to god, I almost altered my entire college course because of this movie. Amy Addams is brilliant, Jeremy Renner is so soft and nerdy, and again, it has an amazing take on time travel. I am very particular about how time is handled in Sci-fi, and this portrayal was one of my favorite. (Most of my physics studies have been dedicated to the theory of time, so like. Strong Opinions.) 

Fantasy

Stardust! It wasn’t until Good Omens can out that I realized Neil Gaiman is responsible for most of the stories I loved as a kid lol, and I had no idea he wrote stardust! But that is such a beautiful movie (I have a Stardust AU lol) and it’s definitely one of my comfort movies. Captain Shakespeare is one of the best characters ever, bless Robert de Niro. I would die for him. Fun fact, i had no idea Ipswitch was a real place until like. 2019. I 100% thought it was made up for the movie 😂

Alongside Stardust, I’ve always loved The Golden Compass. It’s fantasy, but also with that old-timey steampunk science feel, which is so fun and surprisingly difficult to find! 

Mortal Engines also has the same kind of feel, and it was such an epic movie in every sense of the word. I’m a little sad that after all the work that went into it, it didn’t get a dedicated following or fan base, because I feel there’s so much potential in it. But at the same time, fandom tends to gather around media that has plenty of flaws for us to repair with gold, and there wasn’t much room for that in Mortal Engines. 

I’m going to put Jupiter Ascending here even though it technically fits with the sci-fi, because that section is long as fuck and also this movie has such a fantastic feel. Mila Kunis? beautiful. The CGI? beautiful. Eddy Redmayne? One of the best villain portrayals i’ve ever seen. The whole oedipal vibe he had was immaculate, as was their portrayal of reincarnation, and just. The world building. GOD. I get so weak for through world building. Also the fkn intergalactic bureaucracy when they’re basically at the space DMV? One of my all time favorite scenes in movie history. 

Horror

I have very little room in my life for horror. As I said, I have strong movie opinions, especially when it comes to horror movies. I don’t like how most of them rely on cheap jump scares and overused gore and gratuitous rape scenes, instead of, y'know, actual good writing. 

Which is EXACTLY why I adore It: Chapter 1 & 2. It has none of those things, but still manages to be so terrifying. They are my favorite horror movies, and I’m saying this as someone who has genuine childhood trauma bc of the novel. Like. I couldn’t shower/take baths alone until I was almost 10 T_T When I was 6-7 and saw kids play by storm drains, I would run over screaming about how Pennywise was going to get them. Like, I had issues man. I was terrified to see the first one, and wouldn’t go until I could go with my best friend after she had already seen it, so she could warn me when something scary was about to happen 😂

And, one of my favorite aspects of the movie, and the thing that gave me Mad Respect for Any Muschietti? The way he filmed Bev and her father. They have a character who is literally being molested, but they never once have to show it. And yet their interactions are still so viscerally upsetting to watch. Sexploitation puts me off of most horror, and the fact that Muschietti doesn’t use it here, even when it would be actually somewhat justified? *chef’s kiss*. I love him. 

I love horror as a concept, I’m just really picky about it because I expect the writing to be good. I don’t like short cuts. But in a lot of cases, even if I don’t enjoy the movie itself, I love to watch analysis videos on youtube! I love to see the philosophy and symbolism in different horror movies, even if i don’t like to watch the movies themselves. It’s a fun hobby. 

Misc. 

Then in general, some other stuff I love in no particular order:

The Internship (Bless Dylan, Stuart is such a bitch and I love him) 

American Assassin (ofc. The writing itself is eh, but Mitch is my man) 

Dylan’s episode of Weird City. (I actually have a lot of feelings about this one. Jordan Peele is another amazing writer/director, I really need to catch up on his works.) 

Dorian Gray (*chef’s kiss*)

Rogue One (Makes me cry every time) 

WARCRAFT (Obviously this is a fav. It made me so happy, words cannot express.) 

Coraline and most other stop motion animation. I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for that. 

Literally anything associated with Tim Burton. Fun fact, when I was 12 and in middle school, I planned to decorate my future house inspired by tim burton. Like, i had Plans. 

Most adaptations of Alice in Wonderland!

So! this got long as fuck! But you said you like that kind of thing lol 😂 I had kinda Eh sleep since I was up so late lmao, and I kept waking up (as usual, rip). And I’m so mad I go up for nothing! The dude I was supposed to show my listing to never showed, and is refusing to answer my calls >_> It’s been 2 hours now, and I still haven’t heard from him. But whatever, I already have a full price cash offer on the house so who cares. And that means I can play WoW all day, now! 

[captaincoffeegirl515]

6 Underground Thoughts!

I'm literally gonna talk about pretty much the entire movie so lots and lots of spoilers under the read more. 

If you've already seen the movie, I would love to talk and debate and scream excitedly about the movie with you! 

P.S. This got way longer than I expected.

I gotta say I really enjoyed the movie. Of course, there's some problems and continuity errors, etc. but I'll get to them after. 

First of all, I love all the interactions between them. Found-family trope is my jam.

One and Four

Four looks up to One and seems like he tries to impress him. 

He also calls One a likeable asshole.

"See that? That's called skill." Show off. 

One was the one Four called to for help even though they all knew his way of leaving you behind if you can't keep up. And he stepped up and saved Four! That whole scene was so good! 

I will admit though that how they first met is messed up. One basically kidnapped him, tied him down, and made Four think he was gonna shoot and kill him. Seven got it down when he called them a "family more screwed up than mine" 

Two and Three

Badass lady and himbo (does Three count as a himbo?). Enough said.

I love every interaction they had together. I enjoyed their bickering and how they showed how they cared in their own way.

Tiny touches! The part near the end when Three lightly touches Two’s arm and she takes her hand out of her pocket so they could hold hands?! Nice.

When Two said "I would love to meet your mother." awwww! The way Three just brightens up!

Four and Seven

OTP! I never expected to come out with one, but here we are.

Look, I just love the concept of the free-spirited parkour expert being with the disciplined military operator. 

Seven just immediately seemed to take Four under his wing and genuinely care about his well-being. 

The others also expressed how they didn't want to leave Four behind but only Seven fought for them to stop. 

Saved Four's life not once, but twice! It was almost instinctual and he didn't hesitate to do it. 

"You're calling me Mister Seven from now on" Seven's inner dom coming out lol. 

The names scene! "I'm Blaine. I just saved your life. What's your name?" and instead of listening to One’s order, he answers. 

"Yeah, you look like a Billy." 

Seven and One

One always kept his distance from everyone, used numbers instead of names so he wouldn't get attached, and had that horrid "can't keep up, get left behind" rule. So glad that Seven pushed back, from making the shot to save Four from both drowning and from falling to his death, questioning his rules about leaving people behind, and getting them all (except One, sadly) to say their real names. 

Seven brought out One's heart and finally made him start to actually care for his team aka family. Like I'm certain that if it wasn't for him, One would have definitely left Four to die in Hong Kong and on the boat during the coup.

"You've got a soul, man. You should let it out." 

Movie highlights and thoughts:

I called it! Like based on the screen time and focus on them from the trailers, I already knew Six was the most likely one to die and Four would probably be injured at worst. 

The fucking dialogue in the opening! I can't even. Like “I’m gonna put this inside you, really deep.” and "ahhh! She's squirting!" 

"So many fucking Vias in Italy." I love how it's canon that Four isn't that good with maps and would definitely get lost in Italy. Actually he's bad with directions period. "Where are you?" "Here." "Specifics!" "Right here." Four pls

Three trying to learn the language of each new place they go to. The best! 

Did I already say Two is badass? Because she is. She really is. And they're all right when they said she'd be the most likely to survive. 

Four and Six worked so well together in the car chase scenes and Four looked so sad when he saw Six's body in that car. Honestly if Six hadn't died so early in the movie and they got more interactions together, him and Four probably would've been my OTP. 

I did enjoy how One had like momentary vulnerability like when Six died or when Four told them to leave him followed by the gunshots, etc. Those little moments where you can see that he did have feelings before he shoves them deep down and focuses back on the mission. 

Best outfit is Four in that big white sweater with the red stripes. He looked so good. 

I found the scene where Four asks One if he was a pig then spits at him weirdly hilarious. The spitting just felt so random and came out of nowhere. 

Four sleeping is! So! Cute! And when Three starts loudly complaining, he just slowly opens one eye like he's going "are you fucking kidding me right now?!"

Another funny scene was when Four easy runs across the top of the crane and then it pans to the guards chasing him and they have both arms and legs on the crane and just slowly inching their way across. 

Guy jokes about Noor. "Noor is dead. Say he's dead." "No, he's dead. He died." "Wait no. Wrong guy. He's alive!" jfc that was funny! 

The coup song is so fire! I love it! Nice choice, Four. 

Four's scream when that guy broke his arm just kills me. I kinda wish One made that guy's death a bit more painful and drawn out but I get that they were under some serious time constraints.

Actually any part where Four gets hurt... noooo bb

Now that I think about it, the fact that they have comms throughout the mission, like they can hear everything the others say, they can hear each other when they're fighting, when they get hit, everything. They heard when Three got shot in the face and Seven panicked, thinking that he just killed him. They heard Four screaming in pain when his arm broke and they couldn't do anything since they weren't there. 

Seriously though, Ben's acting is so good! He's easily the best part of the movie. And his eyes! So green and so expressive! 

“Fuck you!” “Fuck you!” “No you, fuck you!” jfc One and Three are hilarious together.

It was such a great scene when One told them he wouldn't go after Rovach bc he's going to save Four. Just. My heart. And "You’re breaking your own rules. I thought you didn't have a family". And Five's soft smile.

Four and Five are rock climbing buddies! Both their smiles can outshine the sun. They're so cute! (even though in the close-ups you can tell the rock is very obviously fake)

Ben and Adria are both so hot my little bi heart is ready to burst! 

Also, how is Micheal Bay saying this movie isn't political? They had the US gov’t staging coups in third world countries and putting dictators into power, Russia arming Rovach and his military, chemical warfare, Rovach's whole speech to his generals about hitting where he is weakest like hospitals and schools, the "our president doesn't know how to spell Turgistan" line, revolution, overthrowing dictators, throwing Rovach down to the people for them to deal their own brand of justice, etc. There were so many things that just screamed politics!

Issues:

Holy hell the kill count of this movie is just insane. It becomes over the top so fast. Same with all the gratuitous gore.

Shaky af camera work. 

Literally every explosion looked like those sparky fireworks. What. 

Lots of continuity errors. Six having a disappearing and reappearing hat throughout the chase scene. Basically any scene involving water. Like Four and Two get completely soaked at one point, but in the next scene, they're completely dry. Or the part where Four is hanging upside down on the net and big dude is trying to untangle him so he’d fall but when it cuts back to them when Seven makes the shot, it's back to the part where the guy was choking Four. 

Did anyone else notice all the skid marks on the roads even though they haven't officially driven on it yet? Didn't have enough budget left to remove or edit out the marks from all the rehearsals they did? 

And why is One hanging the eyeball right over the phone screen? That's not where the camera is dude!

Did Two and Three seriously have sex with all those dead people around?! Shouldn't they be running since they killed the 4 generals and guards would likely be on their way?? 

Also, Ben's stunt double was obvious in almost every parkour stunt. Wow. 

Why no Five backstory! I wanna know how she ended up joining the team!

They did Five dirty! She barely has lines or scenes, they took out her backstory, and gave her little to no character growth. 

I know they're hinting at Four and Five getting together, but I just don't see it. They have barely any romantic chemistry together. Eye contact and smiling is not chemistry. It just isn’t. 

[majicmarker]

why did you dislike 'the hating game?' (haven't read it; i'm just curious)

AAAUURGGHH okay. OKAY. it’s been a hot minute since i read it, so i’m going off strictly memory here — i am thinking of doing a reread, for the record, but chances are high that’s just going to remind me of/reinforce my initial bad impressions — BUT — 

(oh god, this became an essay so fast, but to be fair to myself i’m coming off a depressive episode and almost everything in this world pisses me off, so this is just where we’re at. and, yeah, i’m really picking this shit apart, no doubt, but I've always owned up to being an enormously picky reader, so we’re off to the races here, i said what i said, etc., etc, ad nauseam) 

you know what, i’m gonna preface this with the One Thing I remember above all else about this book. i am 100% sure this wasn’t the intention but, oh my god, the one thing i will always remember is how lucy (the heroine) refers to one of her superiors as “Fat Little Dick.” dude’s actual name is richard, he’s short and annoying, blah blah. this is supposed to be funny, and i — much as i’m a fan of vulgar humor, lord, i’ll tell you about my favorite shows and movies sometime — find it so incredibly off-putting, that it’s the first thing I think of whenever i see this book mentioned. the immaturity of the nickname doesn’t bother me so much but it’s like, the fact that it’s meant to be clever that irks me. it’s just... gross, to me. this is really individualistic, but i can’t talk about this book without bringing this up because, for me, it set the whole tone for what i was about to read. this is the humor of the whole book, it falls cringingly flat to me, and that means a lot when it comes to a romantic comedy. 

in that vein... look, there is seldom an occasion in which i enjoy first person. this is completely a personal preference, so it’s not a point i hold against this book in particular, but i just... i really gave this book a shot, despite being immediately turned off by the style. first person runs rampant in romance and like, that’s fine, i do have a couple i enjoy and, anyway, it’s not a dealbreaker for me and overall it doesn’t actually speak to the quality of the work. like i said, total personal preference — but. but. it depends on how you write it, and i just didn’t see the merit of it here. I think we would have benefitted from dual pov, even if both sides were written in first person. 

a nitpick, perhaps! and tbh this particular detail might be suited to a larger discussion of narrative structure dependent on genre, but! in this case i just don’t like it and we can go from there. 

MOVING ON. 

lucy has no friends. what the fuck is that? she’s twenty-something and, as far as her character reads, quite sociable. even if she was some awkward mess (like, hey, me too, y’all should’ve seen me in my twenties), she’d probably still have, like, one person she could confide in, and yet... nada. (this is what i recall, anyway. as i said, it’s been at least a year since i tried this book out, so maybe i’m forgetting someone, but from what i remember, this fact stood out to me almost as plainly, painfully, as the “Fat Little Dick” gag.) i’m pretty sure all she has in this world is her job, her weird crush on josh, and her smurfs collection. also, she’s short. that’s cool, but it’s not a personality, and any which way i don’t need to be reminded of it every page. 

on a broader scale, i, personally, find lucy and josh both profoundly unlikeable. lucy is irritating and, if she were a friend of mine, i’d tell her to her face that she needs to get her shit together because this is ridiculous. and josh is just, an asshole? imo. he’s every other guy i’ve met at a bar who pretends he’s really into his personal development but at the same time he won’t go to a therapist. so, like, what’s the point? he’s dull at best, and i’m not surprised robbie amell’s been cast for the film adaptation (last i knew of, that is). and the thing is, like, in romance, the characters need to be likeable. you’re rooting for their personal lives; there is no “greater good” or whatever else at play here. all i care about are these people and, in this case… i can’t deal with them. if this was YA, absolutely, yes, i’m here for it. but, again, these characters are whole-ass adults. i don’t necessarily expect your life to be together at this point — mine certainly isn’t — but have some self-awareness, for the love of god. 

ON THAT NOTE, the book’s focus is on these twenty-something romantic leads, but it reads so juvenile. meg cabot’s high school romances have more self-awareness and depth than these career-oriented Adults. don’t get me wrong — i’m all for relatable, for insecure, for the identity struggles that really shape your twenties, because oh my god, do I Get That, but this was just all so… god, it reminds me of the stuff i’d write in junior high. it’s like what i imagined it was gonna be like to be a grown-up. this is probably personal preference all over again, but it doesn’t read authentic to me. it’s shallow, and sexual without being really, actually emotional. i’m seeing the lust, but i’m being force-fed the love. 

and, before i drop without precedent the whole “career-oriented” thing that the plot itself seems to have done — the professional, essential, conflict is never resolved. spoiler alert, i guess, but the conflict hinges on the love interests being up for the same promotion, but we end the book with the male lead quitting and taking a job elsewhere — so his career is stable, right, but the job that’s been waiting in the wings this whole time? your guess is as good as mine as to who gets it. much as i disliked this whole Thing, by the end i still hoped lucy would be offered some professional satisfaction, but we never actually find out.

and, listen, i don’t remember any of the sex scenes. i know they’re in there, but i have zero recollection because they’re boring. gratuitous, maybe, but that’s only if you believe some of the book’s naysayers. i guess i’m a naysayer, too, but it’s not because the sex stuff made me take up a confessional booth for ten minutes (no shame, i’m just saying, from experience, most priests don’t care if you read erotica, okay, they’ve heard it before and frankly they just wanna go home because it’s ten A.M. on a saturday and already they could use a shot of jack in their coffee), 

but if y’all know me, you know i love a good sex scene. what i’m getting at here is that, like, these ones just slid off my radar like melted butter. not good melted butter, either. (this is a bad metaphor, maybe. but the point is that i don’t remember them and i don’t even care.)

i guess, on the whole, the tone here doesn’t land for me. it’s just not real, it feels so forced, so wannabe funny and edgy and relatable, but none of those hit quite right. when i first read it, i recall thinking sometimes that “alright, this isn’t bad,” but then i had to deal with “Fat Little Dick” again, or i was constantly reminded of other things — lucy is short, josh is hot, they hate each other, no scenery is described in a way that i can actually picture it, yadda yadda — or else i was subject to quite a bit of body-shaming. that shit was casually sprinkled all over the place, which was both irrelevant to the story, to the characters, and it was just obnoxious. this sort of casual bigotry happens in romance all the time and, like, i’m over it, so i’m gonna point it out every time i try something new and it crops up. 

when this book was rec’d to me, when i saw all the accolades, i thought i was in for some new, fresh, revolutionary read — but then it wasn’t actually… anything. “sometimes it was sort of funny” is the best thing i can say about it, and that’s the best thing i can usually say about most other romances i’ve tried in the last couple years, so i’m not seeing the distinction here, i don't see anything special. i legitimately do not know why this book in particular is so popular. like, there are romances out there that i Hate, poetically, with the fire of a thousand suns, but at the same time i understand why they hit the bestseller list (yet another Discussion all on its own). but this one? i’ve got nothing. 

i’m tentatively considering doing a reread. as i mentioned earlier, but this is probably only going to reinforce everything i don’t like about it, which means eventually i could perhaps give you a more comprehensive answer as to why i so thoroughly Did Not enjoy this book. but, like, who even wants to read that shit? ireally don’t mean to be an asshole about this, but I Don’t Get It, and some of it legitimately pissed me off (the body-shaming, lucy having no friends, both of which are entire Essays onto themselves) — and it’s that second thing i’m not gonna apologize for. in case anyone wanted an apology, but… too bad. 

anyway, in the meantime, i hope this answers your question well enough. it’s actually probably Too Much. but i’m bored and lonely, so i’m gonna go off like a firework best i can, whoops. 

[bthump]

If you could change one thing about the whole Bersek series, what would it be?

Hands down, Guts and Casca hooking up.

That is the grit around which nearly every writing choice I hate grows like a terrible pearl. So maybe this is an unfair answer lol, because by erasing Guts and Casca’s sexual relationship we erase just about everything I hate about Berserk, so it’s kind of more than one thing, but I’m still going with it.

Like, Guts and Casca’s hookup shows up to the story 5 minutes late with starbucks and derails a shitload of what I actually love about it, and I’m not even talking about the gay subtext because it doesn’t derail that at all lmao.

Before Miura came up with the bright idea partway through of adding Guts and Casca’s relationship for the sake of more Eclipse drama (ie a long offensively gratuitous/eroticized/manpainy/etc rape scene), Berserk was a story about a dude and his own personal trauma. Black Swordsman Guts’ parallel backstories of childhood abuse and the sacrifice were all about things that happened personally to him, which is surprisingly refreshing.

Even the fetus wasn’t a fetus but just a random creepy demon meant to symbolize Guts’ own burgeoning monstrosity, with a much more sad and pathetic vibe than the beast of darkness, which tbqh I preferred.

After they get together Berserk is manpain central. During the Eclipse Guts doesn’t even care that Griffith sacrificed him, he only gets angry when he realizes all his friends are dead followed by the rape scene. And yeah okay in fairness I do kind of love that Guts doesn’t blame human Griffith at all or seem to hold any hard feelings towards him lol, but Guts feeling personally betrayed by the sacrifice as an echo of his childhood trauma is still way better writing and I’d take it over the Eclipse rape any day.

And everything just snowballs from there. No regressed baby Casca (who still gets fanservice-y panels, eugh). We’d have some entirely different plot to replace the Elfhelm sidequest, and chances are I’d enjoy it more. No moonlight boy, Guts would still be dark and fucked up but he wouldn’t sexually assault his infantalized ex girlfriend, the fetus would still be a symbol of Guts’ pathetic monstrousness maybe as a telling contrast to the “cool” beast of darkness, Guts wouldn’t be motivated by a fridged damsel in distress. I wouldn’t be living in dread that Miura is going to keep teasing the possibility of Guts and Casca living happily ever after together even after he assaulted her.

God just the prospect of Berserk not expecting its readers to ship Guts with a helpless baby woman who’s afraid of him, and find their dynamic heartwarming and sweet instead of disturbing as all fuck would be an enormous relief. Like I’m sorry, the narrative wants me to read scenes like the one where Moonlight Boy first appears and everyone awws about how Guts and Casca look like its parents and feel happy and hopeful??? Even if it’s set up for eventual tragedy, which I’m 90% certain it is, it’s still fucked up to expect the audience to want them to live happily ever after.

Also without the Eclipse rape NeoGriffith’s storyline would be so much less awkward lmao, and would actually work tonally. Like, all Miura had to do to prove that Femto is evil is have him like, casually murder a few surviving Hawks or something. Easy peasy.

Oh even back during the Golden Age, Casca wouldn’t need to be depowered so Guts could rescue her multiple times as a prelude to romance. I mean maybe we’d still have the one time, when they fall off the cliff, because that whole scene is more significant to Guts’ Griffith-related storyline than future het romance, but at least she could take Silat out herself, and she wouldn’t be casually sexually assaulted by Wyald just so Guts could quippily wake up in the nick of time and save her.

She wouldn’t have a breakdown by a waterfall and weepingly declare that she lied about caring about Griffith’s dream and wanting to support it, really she was just in love with him all along, because that ~revelation~ was just a set up for sex with Guts. Like she could’ve just been motivated the whole time by sharing Griffith’s vision for the future! She wouldn’t suddenly decide apropros of nothing to ditch the Hawks she considers family to leave with Guts, without getting any internal conflict about it or the same sense that she’s choosing to abandon loved ones that we got with Guts (that still completely floors me lol, what the fuck Miura. Guts leaving was a huge tragic production but Casca deciding to leave is neither here nor there? Fuck off.)

And we also wouldn’t have that painful “am I feminine enough for you Guts???” shit lol, complete with Guts’ wonderful “yeah you’re a hysterical woman ofc you’re womanly” response to one of those moments. Also in general the vast majority of Guts’ most unlikeable moments, at least in my opinion, are when he’s interacting with Casca after she becomes his love interest. We could cut most of his misogynist tirades, more sexual assault when he grabs her tit while she’s angry with him, yelling at her after Wyald nearly rapes her, and all the times he treats her like shit post-Eclipse even before the assault scene.

We could’ve had a great rivals to reluctant friends who bond over their mutual feelings towards Griffith type of relationship between them throughout the Golden Age! Just thinking about how much better that would be is depressing lol. And then when Guts destroys Griffith and his dream by leaving Casca could actually be genuinely incredibly angry with him because he actively ruined her life and hopes and dreams as well. God like, Casca’s storyline would be so much richer with the romance removed.

The only negative would be that she would’ve died during the Eclipse with everyone else. Like while I can imagine amazing scenarios where she’d survive and get a tertiary narrative of her own without being Guts’ love interest, I gotta admit that’s not what Miura would’ve gone with lol. But she’s been functionally written out for 250 chapters anyway now, at least a sad death scene would’ve been more respectful. And it’s not like I’m turning to Berserk for good female characters and representation anyway let’s be real here.

lol sorry this just turned into a long ranty list of everything i hate about berserk lol. Also to be fair if I had to pick just one thing to change, while keeping the rest of Berserk as close to the same as possible, I’d pick the Eclipse rape. Change it to Femto driving Casca insane with magic mental torture or something. It could even be significant to Casca’s narrative, like, hell, we could get a revealing hallucinatory and nightmarish trip through Casca’s mind and memories or something like that.

But yeah my first choice would be cutting the romance.

[j-k-notrowling]

Untitled

Hi there! Spoilers up front: this is a gratuitously long-winded “thank you,” not an Ask (also I’m 31 and don’t know how to Social Media so apologies if this is the wrong page/tab/link/widget).

--(oh actually it’s a blog post now because of course I can’t send an “Ask” this stupidly long see? wasn’t kidding about that Social Media thing...)--

I started writing my first book in the Fall of 2016. Before that I’d only written songs. One day I got an idea which didn’t fit within the usual rhymes or rhythms. I tried and tried, but kept on hitting a wall. In addition, I was fed up with the whole “business” of music—the fragile egos, the politics of being in a band, all that. One morning I sat down at my HP desktop computer (again...31) and opened up a blank Word document. I stared at it with murderous intent for a long time, but nothing happened. So I grabbed the nearest book off the shelf (Crash by J.G. Ballard), opened it, and began to type out the first paragraph, copying the sentences line by line. I wanted to see what it felt like — my clumsy fingers pecking at the keyboard, observing how the words fell into place with a musical cadence and tempo almost prophetic, as though the ink were destined to dry in this exact form upon the page, the machinery of its tumultuous birth and impeccable design skillfully concealed. I paused and looked out the window. There was a squirrel on the deck, I remember. And then I saw it. Not outside but inside my own head, behind my eyelids. The song, the one I’d been struggling to write, I saw that it could be a story. I saw it had a clear beginning, middle, and end. I saw a world of characters opening doors to other worlds, other stories, other characters. This was life-changing shit. Suddenly I was a little boy at my first baseball game, drinking my first ice-cold Coke, surrounded by old men chain-smoking Marlboro Reds and muttering dirty words I’d never heard before about the [EXPLETIVES DELETED] on the opposing team. I’d discovered a fire fueled by the psychic anarchy of its own discovery, a Moebius-strip of dramatic invention, a repository for all the pop-cultural turds floating around inside the cracked porcelain toilet bowl of my skull. I wrote prose every night after work. I never thought about what I was doing. I never once stopped to check word counts or page counts. I never thought about sticking to an outline, making sure my story adhered to a specific plot structure, none of that. I wrote like a man in love. Delirious, overheated teenage love. Wear-my-ill-fitting-letterman’s-jacket love (is this also A Thing™️ in Canada?). Stupid stupid stupid love, naive and hormonal and precious and retrospectively mortifying. I’d turn off the world, turn on the music, sit back and watch the words sashay straight into my lap. It took 2-3 months before the ruthless scourge known as Self Doubt farted in my private elevator. Am I doing this right? How many words are in a book, anyway? How many pages? How long is this going to take? Is this an effective way to impress women and/or get laid? Am I writing a novel or a novella? The fuck is “flash fiction”? Are you allowed to write actual books in Microsoft Word? Does it matter that my free trial version of Microsoft Word expires in 30 days? They’re bluffing, right? And so on. I compared my own writing with that of authors I admired; subsequently, I couldn’t get out of bed for a week. I watched 40+ hours of “Kitchen Nightmares” reruns (it’s. the. same. fucking. formula. every. single. episode.) and nursed my shame with bowl after bowl of strawberry ice cream. To think — I’d TOLD people about this fool’s errand, and sooner or later I’d have to show them precisely how awful a writer I was... I turned to the Internet for advice. At first, it seemed like a godsend. There was such a litany of knowledge, so many pro-tips and life hacks and proven formulas for success. This was how I stumbled across your channel. I found other channels which offered more straightforward “DO IT LIKE THIS YOU FUCKING IDIOT” instructions, but I still enjoyed yours the most. I lol-ed at your jokes. I remember a few videos where you spoke highly about All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr, which remains among the most achingly beautiful books I’ve ever read. Also you’re Canadian, and you guys just generally Human better than we (Americans) Human. ...and here my troubles began. See, the more I tried to adhere to word count goals, the more I tried to properly organize the scenes on my Scrivener™️ virtual cork board, the less I enjoyed the actual process of writing. So I tried other things, based upon other writers’ suggestions: cut the adverbs, write in the morning, write at night, write during your lunch break, write an outline, stick to the outline, write x amount of pages per day, write x number of hours per day, spend x amount of hours drafting and x amount of hours editing, etc. But nothing I tried made me feel confident in my writing. I started actively hating it, to be honest. I dreaded the cursor and the infinite white void. Then I would watch more writing videos and feel guilty about my lack of ambition, my inability to accomplish simple tasks. It’s only a few thousand words, dude — just get in there and do it. Eventually I would. I’d grumble and feel miserable and stay locked in my little writing dungeon all night, ignoring my friends’ texts and phone calls, and the next day I’d hate everything I wrote, trash it, and start over. Then, when I had no more writing left to hate, I started hating myself. The words in my head turned malignant, putrefied into spongy, black tumors. I’d spend all day at work consumed by thoughts and ideas and goals! goals! goals! for my book, then I’d come home and stare at a blinking cursor and wonder why I was such a worthless failure. I couldn’t write the way these other writers did, no matter what I tried. But I still wanted to write. Needed to, in that yearning, terrible way I suspect you understand. I don’t know why The Internet subconsciously invites us to flay ourselves before total strangers, but it does. So I will. Shit got Dark™️, Shaelin. I gained 50 pounds, started living like a hoarder, stopped hanging out with my friends, stopped leaving the house altogether. I kept the curtains closed so my neighbors wouldn’t see the piles of empty take-out boxes stacked up on the kitchen table. I traded the pleasures and contradictions and beguiling enigmas of women for the 24-hour neon distraction of cheap porno. My cat Maggie, basically the only friend I had during this time, got cancer. I watched her suffer and waste away because I couldn’t bear the thought of putting her to sleep and coming home alone to an empty, filthy house. Eventually she died and I hated myself even more for not being able to save her. I wore the same pair of pants for six months. I’d go to work and sit at my desk all day and do absolutely nothing (I was the accounting manager at a small company, technically my own “boss,” so I got away with this for a shocking, frankly heroic amount of time). Then I simply stopped going to work. And I kept torturing myself with those stupid goals and word counts, never happy with the end result, resigned to feel like a failure every day. I remember watching your “Spill the Tea” video back when it was initially posted. Watching it now is eerie, because you describe exactly what I was going through, what I was feeling. Like, to the “T” (see what I did there? #WordPlay #LitPuns101). I’d never experienced anxiety/depression before, so I didn’t really understand what was happening to me. Not that it mattered, because by that point the damage was done. I couldn’t recognize and isolate the real problem. I’d given up. Even though you said a lot of things in that video I desperately, desperately needed to hear, I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to listen to you, because you were one of Them™️. Your eyes were bright and your voice sounded friendly and encouraging, but your name wasn’t McCarthy or Pynchon or DeLillo or Nabokov. You were just a kid. What could you possibly know that I didn’t? In January of this year I called a local psychiatric hospital and told them I was planning to kill myself. I never harbored any true intentions of doing that, but I figured they’d offer me a nice three-week vacation in a padded cell. Considering the circumstances, it honestly seemed like a relief. I ended up quitting my job, selling my house, and moving back in with my parents 300 miles away. I started seeing a therapist once a week (still do, for the record). So far I’ve lost 30 pounds of the 50 pound surplus I acquired. I kept watching your videos, even though I was no longer in the market for writing advice (#JustHereForTheSnark). You kept me lol-ing through some bad days and weeks and months. I’d listen to you talk about problems with the writing community and nod my head like an old woman in church (#ShaelinSermons™️ #SheTeachesANDShePreaches), but I still hadn’t made the connection with my own issues. I swore off writing completely, went back to playing music. Cover songs in coffee shops and family restaurants. It was fun for awhile. I genuinely felt happier. But my story was still an old pebble poking around in my shoe...calling out, issuing playground taunts, drawing hairy cartoon dicks on my forehead while I slept. About a month ago I stared down another blank page, my first since experiencing that fun-sized nervous breakdown earlier this year. I closed my eyes and heard your voice in my head. “You can do whatever you want.” I had no goals, no arbitrary quotas to meet. I wrote a few lines, stopped, fixed a couple things I wasn’t satisfied with, and then went on with my day. I thought about what I’d written, sure, but I didn’t worry or spend the whole day stressing out. The next morning I read over what I’d done, and I didn’t hate it. I thought it was actually pretty good, funny and off-kilter and a little/lotta fucked up. So I sat down and wrote some more. Took some things out, re-worded stuff, dressed up the bones in silver and pearls. Addition and subtraction. Before I knew it, I’d finished a whole page. Then another. And then the hair on the back of my neck stood up, because I remembered: This is how it felt at the beginning. Back when I was young and love-struck and writing only to catch those moments of pure levitation, that devilish tickle, that rush of blood propelled by my own wild heart. It’s been a rough road, but I finally found what I’d lost. I figured out how to write again and enjoy it. And ultimately, the best writing advice I received didn’t come from McCarthy or Pynchon or DeLillo or Nabokov. It came from a young woman in another country with a camera and a nose ring and a big tapestry and bigger dreams which run parallel to my own. So thank you. Thank you for taking time out of your busy life and braving the Steaming Pile™️ that is The Internet to offer words of empathy and encouragement to complete strangers. Thank you for the wisdom you share. Thank you for being who you are. Know that tonight the stars shine brighter as a result. They do for me, at least. (Also I’m sincerely sorry about the absurd length of this “Ask” wherein no actual questions were posed and nothing substantial was communicated beyond a simple yet torturously delayed “thank you” kthxbye #longlivethenewtapestry 

—Justin)

[fweeble]

Episode 2: In Another Country

I hope everyone stays hydrated, whether or not they’re currently suffering through summer! I’ve got my set up all prepared (with the tissues and pillows being the most important, but that’s preference). Hope everyone else is comfy as we start episode two! 

We’re gonna need it. 

Looks like we’re jumping right in. OOF. Ibe’s face ruins me. He’s so worried about Eiji. Someone needs to hold my hand, my heart hurts and I’m already prepared to cry everywhere. 

None of this was ever supposed to happen, Charlie. Just save Skip and Eiji --just save them, Charlie. Save them.

Ibeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Your decision to cover American gangs will bring you so much heartache. So much. Q AQ

Not even half a minute into the episode and my boy Shorter makes an appearance. My heart. Look at that lighting... the glow... the colors. Oh my god, just slay me with the colors. Hnnnnnnng. Also: three motorcycles. I am secretly hoping that Shorter’s just casually commandeering Ash’s since Ash rudely yoinked his away. I can dream, can’t I? Disappointed how they cut out some of Shorter’s insightful dialogue, but time constraints, I understand.

Shorter, your gut is very spot-on. 

Seriously, Mappa could just murder me with these gorgeous backgrounds. Look at the attention to detail. I know this is a hostage situation but let’s take a moment to bathe in the beauty that is this (old, abandoned) scenery. Aaaaah.

And here is Arthur, trying to look intimidating and ominous by hiding in the shadows, but he’s sadly overshadowed by everything else. As usual. Is anyone else impressed with all the effort that goes into everything? I’ll try not to wax lyrical but look at all those gang tags and planks left around, the cracked tiles and the smudges --someone had to draw that.

Everyone knows it’s a trap, Arthur. You’re clever, but you lack a certain degree of self-awareness and ability...

but do keep talking. Your only positive point is your smooth, buttery baritone. Nice. I will enjoy your villainous monologue. It will match your laughably stereotypical evil ‘do.

Truly, subtlety isn’t your strong point, Arthur. 

Also, lying. But please, lie more. 

Eiji and Skipper together is my favorite thing. Skipper is this tiny, determined ball of controlled kick-ass. Eiji is utterly out of his depth and looking around curiously because boy, Japan wasn’t like this!

These two cuties. Please.

Fuck ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooff.

PUNCH HIS FACE IN!!!

*WILL SMITHS THIS SCENE* I have so many feelings, I have so many things I want to scream about, I want to dissect just how much this one line underlines the differences between Ash and Arthur despite the fact there are plenty of superficial similarities between the two and I just --HNNNNNNG. *clenches fist* I HAVE FEELINGS AND THEY ARE STRONG.

Skiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip. Eiiiiiiiiiiiiiijiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. So many props to Eiji for staying relatively calm in a frankly terrifying situation. 

Skiiiiiiiippeeeeeer. *STRANGLED DYING MANATEE NOISES*

*INTENSE SOBBING* SKIP, YOU ARE TOO BEAUTIFUL, YOU PRECIOUS STARCHILD. HE IS SO PROTECTIVE OVER EIJI. MY HEEEEART.

Why are you such trash, Arthur????

EIJI’S FAAAAAAAAAAAACE. SAAAAVE HIIIIM.

I’M TOO EMOTIONAL, SOMEONE FUCKING HOLD MY HAND ALREADY!!!

You didn’t even lose your fingers. You just have some scars. Talk about disproportionate retribution???

Oh my god there’s an actual opening segment, I thought they were forgoing it altogether because 19 volumes in 24 episodes, but I guess not. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t prepared. Aaaaah.

Seriously, the background???? I’ll try to keep the gratuitous snapshots to a minimum. I’ll try. Honestly.

I think from now on I’ll start all my Nanner Fish Liveblogs with this. 

Why does this break my heart. (No, don’t answer. Just leave me to wallow.)

Beautiful juxtaposition. Also, rude. I love that lighting through the trees, though. Q AQ

*HYSTERICAL SCREECHING* MAPPA, Y’ALL ARE THE RUDEST ASSHOLES TO EVER ANIMATE AND I AM SO OFFENDED, EVERYTHING HURTS, NOTHING IS MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN THIS, LAY ME TO REST.

Yut-luuuuuung.

WHY MUST MAPPA BE SO CRUEL AND HURTFUL.

GOSH, THIS IS GORGEOUS. MY HEART. WHY DO THIS TO MY DELICATE BABY HEART???

Guys, guys, guys. Look at all that gang tagging. SOMEONE HAD TO DRAW THAT. THE COLORS MAAAAN. Also: Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.

FUCK OFF. I HAD TO STOP FOR A BIT. JUST. WHY. FUCKING WHYYY.

MAPPA YOU BASTARDS.

Every.single.fucking.time, Marvin. 

*high pitched distressed noises*

Ash, you beautiful, sassy smartass. PLEASE BE A LITTLE LESS SASSY.

My heart. 

Just call him Florence Nightingale. 

*more strangled high pitched noises of distress* I wish Ash wasn’t so right.

THEIR SLEEPING POSITIONS. SKIIIIIIIIIIP. EIJIIIIII. MY HEART.

SERIOUSLY PUNCH THAT FACE IN.

Oh my fucking god. I thought he was just a random new mob character, but he’s that dude who looked exactly like Charlie!! The first time I read Nanner Fish I was convinced Charlie was a mole because of him!!!

HE ALSO LOST THE PORN ‘STACHE. CONGRATULATIONS. YOU LOOK SO MUCH BETTER. A LOT MORE INTIMIDATING.

I totally went off-topic. The topic being: Marvin is gross, the scum of the earth, and should be punched a lot in sensitive places.

Thank you, Skip.

I am the worst person, I’m sorry, because I spent this entire slow pan up Ash laughing hysterically. This is secondhand embarrassment at its peak. Pffffft. 

Ash, please.

Poor Eiji. Pffffffffffffffft.

Marvin, you are honestly dumber than a bag of bricks. Beautiful wounded gazelle gambit, Ash. I love how Skipper is jumping with excitement, cheering Ash on, and Eiji’s holding himself like he needs protection from the latent gross that emanates from Marvin constantly.

*side whispers* This is it.

The turning point.

*blows kisses at Mappa* GORGEOUS.

I’m breaking things up a bit since I’m just. Full of feelings. Eiji making a decision, inspired by Ash. Skip automatically assuming Eiji’s making a Last Stand, because that’s what he is: a fighter to the last. 

But Eiji is a civilian, and he doesn’t fight the way Skip does. 

And this is beautifully animated, and it definitely shows Eiji’s resolve and determination... but it bugs me.

Because they gave one of Eiji’s lines to Skip.

They turned a line that showed Eiji’s determination, his acknowledgement that he could severely injure himself --could even cripple himself --but he was willing to bet it all on a chance, and made it into an argument Skipper has against Eiji’s Hail Mary decision. 

And I hate it.

I really love the soundtrack they use, though. Nice.

How the cat fell in love with the bird.

Seriously, look at those colors? Look at that rainbow effect while Eiji’s in the sky. The textures. *sends all the kisses Mappa’s way*

Eiji... what about your bleeding. I mean, yes, run for help, but also: what if you pass out before you get help? A quick tourniquet, please!

He did indeed. It was beautiful.

Shorteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer. 

HIS TINY SATISFIED SMIRK.

I AM TOTALLY UNBIASED. IT’S NOT LIKE I LOVE SHORTER A RIDICULOUS, LOPSIDED AMOUNT. WHAT LIES ARE YOU SPREADING. *cries* I just love Shorter so much.

More smartphones trying to save the day.

And again. No more phone booths!

Seriously, I suspect I will forever be smitten. Muwah. Gorgeous. Muwah Muwah.

Finally! Plotty things! And why automatically suspect Ash, Charlie?? You trusted him enough to let him near civvies but you automatically suspect him when Golzine’s up to something sketchy? 

Oh, Ibe. You’re gonna have white hair soon, Eiji is gonna make you worry lots.

I know you are, Eiji. Q AQ

Nice, thank you Mappa! Now I know Eiji’s A pos. (Or AB pos.)

*wounded hippo noises* THEY ARE SO LOYAL AND DEDICATED TO ONE ANOTHER. SKIIIIIIIIIIP. AAAAAAASH.

CMSDKLFMLDSF. SOMEONE SAVE SKIIIIP.

Beautiful. The best part about Shorter and his garish colors is that you can always pick him out of a crowd. <3

I didn’t mention it last time, but I’m so happy to see Ash’s crew! Hi Aleeex!

Just casually taking snapshots of Shorter being awesome. That’s not a crime. I swear.

BONES! I think. I forget. I get their names mixed up. 8( Where’s the other one? You can’t be Ash’s power trio with just the two of you! (I guess Shorter’s there too. Q vQ)

Totally just took this screencap because I’m basically an embarrassing parent who likes to show of their kid. Lookit Shorter. Isn’t he awesome?

Nooooooope.

Nooo, no no no.

Marvin you idiot, Golzine said alive. Your Papa Dino? Remember him?

Nooooope.

For fuck’s sake, noooooooooo.

SOMEONE FUCKING KILL MARVIN FIRST.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. SKIIIIIIPPER. Q AQ

Skiiiiiiiiiiiippeeeeeeeeeeeer...!!!!!!!!!

KILL HIM.

Ash, what black voodoo magic did you do to get that car going??? You didn’t turn or put in any keys, you certainly don’t have the fancy electronic keys on you. What the hell? Did some lazy mafia asshole leave their fancy electronic key in the damn car?

ASH STOP LEAVING SHORTER BEHIND FOR FUCK’S SAKE!!!

I love how this implies the cops are on good terms with Shorter.

Shorter, did you even tell them where you were heading??? You’ve got a smartphone now!!! Use it!

Shorter...

Because you were stupid enough to shoot Skipper. All you had to do was not shoot.

CMLKSDFMLDSF. DINOOOOOOO.

Because people aren’t pets, Dino!!!!

Trust your instincts, Ash! Turn back!!

He honestly deserved worse.

Ash....

*sigh* I’m so smitten. That’s gorgeous. (Sorry, Ash.)

Jenkins and Charlie will believe you, Ash! But...

Obligatory corrupt cop Evanstine won’t let them help you. This is his jurisdiction. 8(

Oh, Jenkins. Charlie. You’re gonna regret it...

Another asshole who deserves his face punched in.

Is no one going to dress Ash’s wound? It’s still Eiji’s tourniquet there. It’s gonna get infected you shithead.

Fuck oooooff.

Oh look, someone who needs to slip on a pickle, fall, crack their head on the counter, and die face first in their own piss. That’s you, Evanstine! 

Please. Die horrifically.

Ash... Q nQ

Please don’t take it personally, Jenkins... Skip just died in his arms... he was framed for murder... and a scumbag just ambushed him with his past...

Cmkalsdmfklsadf. DINOOOOOO.

We’re so blessed, guys! So much plot this episode!

Charlie... don’t do this. Please... don’t.

Oh, Charlie. You’re so earnest. You’re still so pure. Q AQ

And Ash... takes after his middle name. He is jaded. He knows better. He knows Dino. How do you indict someone with so much money, power, and influence? He has judges in his pocket!

And Charlie...

And an intermission from my previous thought because boy howdy am I still swooning over these gorgeous visuals. *blows even more kisses Mappa’s way*

Back to my previous train of thought: ...Charlie can’t give up.

Ibe’s face, though. It’s the face of a dad going “son, could you please stop putting yourself in dangerous situations I’ve already gotten fifteen new grey hairs and I’m only 30 please don’t do this to me.” Poor Ibe. That’s exactly what Eiji’s gonna do.

Charles Dickinson: Poster boy for Not Givin’ Up, We’re Taking Dino Golzine Down the Right and Proper Way, Just Believe in Us Ash!

Noooooo, not with the emotional blackmail, Charlie! (Besides, as much as I love Ash, preeeetty sure Eiji was incidental. He was chasing after Skip, wasn’t gonna let Eiji, an innocent civilian get caught in the crossfire of a gang war, and at no point did he risk Skip’s life. He contemplated his own, but never Skip’s.)

What a cute bird. Q vQ <3 <3 <3

*clutches chest* Eiji. Why. 

Skipper... you will never be forgotten. 

DAMMIT WHY IS NO ONE HOLDING MY HAND??? I NEED EMOTIONAL SUPPORT.

THE FUCKING ART DIRECTION. CMKSLDMFOWEMFDSLF. MAPPA NEEDS TO BE ARRESTED FOR MURDER. MY MURDER. 

It’s okay, Eiji, I wouldn’t be able to, either... Q AQ

Seriously, how is that even remotely legal????

Fuck Golzine and his connections. Fuck him with a power saw.

*intense feelings about later volumes and how this relates to both Ash and Eiji* CMSKDLFLSDFJLSDJFOEWIMSFD. *strangled dying manatee noises about foreshadowing*

*lies on ground, emotional and useless*

Hnnnnnnnnng, that’s just gorgeous. Ominous, but gorgeous. u 3u <3

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand prison wardens are also in his pocket. Seriously, Charlie, do you not see why Ash is the way he is?

There’s also a brand new ED, but I’m seriously emotionally drained after the OP and Skipper... It doesn’t really have anything particularly foreshadow-y or relevant that my dead soul can see. It’s lovely and a nice end to an emotionally charged episode. I’m going to just quietly cry into my pillows now.

<<Episode 1                                     Masterlist                                          Episode 3>>

[headlesssamurai]

Have you seen Altered Carbon? If so, what do to think of it?

Alright, I finally bucked up enough courage to do another honest, non-sarcastic, write-up for a piece of media. Just been somewhat bitterly reluctant to voice my true opinions on fiction, or anything else really, since it seems like lots of folks are quite intensely engaged in violent uproars of one kind or another. No need to add more noise to the feedback loop, if you know what I mean.

But you’re, like, one of a dozen or so dudes who asked me about this series. So I reckoned I’d write it up for you, it being such a popular subject and all. I’d also like to thank you for your curiosity. It’s pretty damn humbling to know anybody cares enough about what I think to even ask after my thoughts. I’ll make sure to offer a notary warning before I spill any spoilers.

I became acquainted with Richard K. Morgan’s Kovacs-verse a few years back, but accidentally read one of the protagonist’s later adventures before backtracking to the original novel. I found it to be a respectably well-written futuristic detective story in the grand tradition of vintage writers like Robert B. Parker, even if including the predictably pornographic sex scenes in the grand tradition of modern urban sci-fi/fantasy writers like Laurell K. Hamilton (maybe the ‘K’ middle initial is a code for graphic sex content). In preparation for watching the new Netflix series, I re-read Morgan’s Altered Carbon to refresh my knowledge of the future he created.

Now, I’d like to say I’m a prolific reader of novelized fiction and other books, but I’m not one of those “hardcore” purists who always cries “the book was better” while pounding my fist on the podium. Thus in my effort to avoid any such farcical nonsense, I’m going to sort of examine both the book and the Netflix series of Altered Carbon at once, and write about what I enjoy and dislike about both versions, instead of directly comparing them.

I’ve grown so cynical with modern film and TV, I tend to unintentionally generate lists of what I think they’ll change about a book’s story once they adapt it, and what they’ll add and leave out. Usually, these lists are fairly accurate. Game of Thrones, for instance: how depressing it is to be absolutely correct some times. Not that the books were much better, but a pinecone up the ass doesn’t make a kick in the nuts feel any better.

A lot of people would describe Altered Carbon as having cyberpunk vibes, and this is true, but I believe it fits more comfortably into the realm of biopunk than anything else. If you’re not familiar with the concepts herein, Altered Carbon involves a distant future in which humanity has colonized the stars over many generations using sleeper ships, and with a little help from recovered alien star-maps, but has not achieved faster-than-light interstellar travel. The central technology in this universe is the cortical stack, a type of neural backup which allows a person’s consciousness to be digitally stored in a “disc” and uploaded into a new body if they die.

The new bodies are referred to as sleeves, and the filthy rich clone themselves so their sleeves are all identical and genetically enhanced, but most common folk have to accept whatever body is available or is covered by their insurance, or even a synthetic sleeve (which in the novel is a cheap and distasteful thing, but in the series synthetics seem to have superpowers). People can only travel quickly to other star systems in the settled worlds (known as the Protectorate) by transmitting their stored consciousness into another cortical stack on their planet of destination and uploading into a new sleeve there (a process called needlecasting), but physically transporting anything still takes a really long time for ships to travel across the vast distance of space.

Straight out of the gate, this concept does not appeal to me at all. If there’s anything that drains your story of tension and thrills, it’s got to be the idea that everyone lives forever. The way the universe is constructed however, it ends up making the story far more interesting than what I had anticipated. Not everyone can afford to live forever, first of all, since re-sleeving can be an extremely expensive undertaking, and even those who have the money rarely feel the desire to live more than two lifetimes. Additionally there are complications which can arise, such as personality fragging, a type of insanity which occurs when a person is sleeved in one too many different bodies throughout their life.

Certain religious groups also vehemently resist re-sleeving, and for law enforcement various lengthy sentences of storage without the possibility to re-sleeve are the primary means of punishment for most crimes. There are even interesting concepts like criminals who copy their consciousness into several cortical stacks at once, making them difficult to apprehend once and for all. Other criminals and intelligence operatives also utilize virtuality to torture people in a digital environment, allowing them to subject victims to days or even months of agony which equates to only a few hours in real-time. Real death can also still occur, if the individual’s cortical stack is badly damaged or destroyed.

The actual plot involves a former soldier named Takeshi Kovacs, who is paroled early from a criminal sentence and re-sleeved by a rich tycoon who offers to exonerate Kovacs of his crimes if he can solve a murder. While reluctant to work for some rich asshole, Kovacs is almost instantly attacked by mercenaries which makes him curious enough to take the case. Kovacs then works to investigate the purported crime while getting himself into a bit of trouble with the locals, and trying to deal with extreme trauma from his combat experiences.

It’s surprising that in the case of Altered Carbon I was entirely incorrect in everything I thought the producers might add/change/amputate from the original story. I also could not have predicted what they decided to add and how they decided to change certain elements from the story of Morgan’s novel. I believe the series they crafted from his story is competently scripted, very well cast, doesn’t waste too much time with any silly subplots, and is generally a well-paced, adult-themed sci-fi story. Altered Carbon really wants to take itself seriously, in the same vein as things like SyFy’s praiseworthy diamond The Expanse, but its unique setting gets a little too bogged down in conventional tropes for my liking. Gratuitous T&A (as well as other, less commonly exploited extremities) and generous helpings of the fuck-words do not an edgy and intense sci-fi experience make. Good but not great, would be my general assessment of the series.

Don’t get me wrong here, Altered Carbon is plenty intense, even thrilling at certain points, but a somewhat bland smattering of writers and directors, thrown into the recipe with a few others who are brilliant geniuses, create a mixed bag of stylistic choices which don’t always fit together very well. So you’re often left with an unusually faithful adaptation of a badass novel, wonderfully enhanced in certain aspects, but grotesquely mutated in others, and some of the conflicting storytelling elements feel hurriedly stitched together. A Patchwork Man of a story, rather than prime quality tank flesh. None of Altered Carbon’s flaws are crippling however, and all-told I’d say the series is eminently watchable and very worth your while if you enjoy futuristic sci-fi stories.

WARNING: Spoilers ahead.

First the good news. This series stars an extremely talented cast of performers who own their roles with wonderful conviction, and very convincing poise.

Joel Kinnaman has been on my good side since he appeared in The Killing, and even his unfortunate role in the Robocop reboot didn’t water down my appreciation for him. I feel like his role as the newly sleeved Takeshi Kovacs was perfectly cast. Martha Higareda is just a little too cute to be such a badass, but she winds up playing Detective Ortega to that strong female archetype in a far less sensational and much more casual way than what you might expect from the modern trends of scripting for such characters. Though quite the opposite of Higareda in terms of the role she plays, Renée Elise Goldsberry brims with charisma as Quellcrist Falconer, a sort of futuristic Che Guevara if he had also practiced Zen and gong fu, and was a woman. Chris Collins is also incredibly memorable as Kovacs’ A.I. hotel manager Poe.

Ato Essandoh as Vernon Elliott became one of my favorite characters as the series goes on, and though I wasn’t totally sold on the arc of her character Hayley Law as Elliott’s daughter Lizzie completed a very nice trifecta of beautiful lead women who just happen to be racially diverse. The third of these ladies, of course, is Dichen Lachman who I’ve got to say delivers probably the most convincing and most nuanced performance in the entire series, having to run a wild labyrinth of different emotional expressions which all feel very genuine. As was the case with Sylvia Hoeks as Luv in Blade Runner: 2049, Dichen Lachman as Rei hooked me instantly and woudn’t let go. Maybe I just got a thing for sociopathic women or something.

There are also a few minor roles worth mentioning, Marlene Forte does a great job as the overbearing mother of detective Ortega, which again felt very genuine and not forced, Tamara Taylor as ambitious sleazy attorney Oumou Prescott gave me chills with her smug smile (again perfect casting), Kristin Lehman and James Purefoy seem a perfectly matched pair of megalomaniacs, Byron Mann and Will Yun Lee kick ass portraying Kovacs at very different stages of his troubled life, and there is some terrifically believable acting on the parts of child actors Morgan Gao and Riley Lai Nelet.

All that being said, not everything the actors are given to do is particularly well-written, in my humble opinion.

Takeshi Kovacs is something called an Envoy, a type of specially trained soldier who is mentally conditioned to be hyper-aware at all times, integrate and adapt to new environments and circumstances, and even manipulate his own bodily chemistry, allowing him to eliminate the pain threshold, instantly recover from debilitating drugs, and avoid lingering trauma from torture. The Envoys were created to help the Protectorate put-down political dissidents and rebels, which were running rampant throughout the settled worlds at the time of the Envoy Program’s inception. Many of these rebels often followed the outlawed “Quellist” writings of an infamously respected revolutionary leader called Quellcrist Falconer who fought, and lost, against the Protectorate hundreds of years before the time of the novel (and long before Kovacs was born). When she was born, Quellcrist Falconer, like Kovacs, also happened to be from Harlan’s World. In the novel, this reputation causes Harlan’s World to be viewed as a backwater source of rogues and misfits by citizens of more civilized worlds (which is fair, since it’s described by Kovacs as being overrun by crime syndicates and swamp gangs). But even compared to Harlan’s World, Earth is considered a polluted over-populated shit hole.

In the novel he was trained by the somewhat fascist forces of the Protectorate, and the Envoy Corps was an elite black ops group who could be transmitted to any planet and topple the regime in less time than it would take a massive army to win a single battle. In the series, Kovacs is just a random soldier burn during the time of the Quellist revolution, but Envoys were created and trained by revolutionary leader Quellcrist Falconer to combat the very fascist forces of the Protectorate, whom were too used to conventional warfare to properly adapt to Quell’s asymmetrical tactics.

The problem for me, with this particular change in the writing, is that much of the details have been glossed over. I never got a sense of how Quell was able to so efficiently condition her soldiers into such a formidable force, nor did her portrayal emphasize her military acumen in this manner very convincingly. Quell’s character is certainly charismatic and sympathetic to the audience, but I find it much easier to accept that Envoys are the product of sociopathic, strict, and brutal military conditioning than to grasp the concept that a fairly undisciplined group of freedom fighters were able to develop such a sophisticated method of training. If Quell’s rebels were portrayed differently, it might be easier to accept, but in the series they seem more like hippies with guns than hardened elite warriors.

This is one of my only major gripes with the series as a whole, and it wouldn’t even be that big of a deal to me if it didn’t play such a large role in the plot and arc of Kovacs as a character. I didn’t like the way it changed his backstory either.

See, in the novel Kovacs is a former Envoy turned career criminal since Envoys are generally feared by everyone despite their having fought for the Protectorate, so they don’t have a lot of options and their skillset is only useful in a limited context. He’s haunted by his combat experiences, regrets his role in assisting the government in putting down various rebels, and has a cultural misunderstanding of Earth because he’s from Harlan’s World. His criminal ventures could be seen as his own personal revolution, and Kovacs has spent about a century in and out of storage since leaving the military, but has only been consciously alive for about forty years. He isn’t portrayed as a morally centered person, but he has his own system of honor, and he selfishly accepts Laurens Bancroft’s offer because it’s a way out of a lengthy sentence. This gives him a nice arc, because he slowly becomes more morally invested in what he’s doing as certain things come to light, and ultimately risks it all toward the end basically to avenge the death of a prostitute and save a single life, which is a nice shift in contrast from the Kovacs we see leave storage at the start of the book.

In the series Kovacs is a lovesick puppy dog, who misses his one true love. He’s a former Quell revolutionary who also became a career criminal, but the moment he got caught they put him in storage indefinitely, because he’s the last of the Envoys, the rest of which were mercilessly butchered by stormtroopers from the evil Protectorate which has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. When the series begins, he awakens 250 years after he was captured and he finds that the galaxy has become what he always feared, a one-percenter’s paradise ruled by the rich, where the poor are exploited and marginalized and everyone with even the slightest sense of prominence is an irredeemable asshole. Politics aside, this change makes his character arc far less interesting to me, because he doesn’t want to help Bancroft but his reluctance comes from a very different place than the book, and ultimately Kovacs accepts the offer not out of selfishness but because the ghost of his dead girlfriend tells him to.

This also deeply conflicts with the first time we’re introduced to Kovacs, in his usual East Asian sleeve on Harlan’s World where he speaks of caring only for “getting paid” and seems like a typical devil-may-care bad boy. Then when he’s talking to Bancroft, he tells the tycoon “Some things can’t be bought. Like me.” So which is it? Do you only care about getting paid, or can you not be bought? This makes for a somewhat confusing characterization of Kovacs, who one minute is murderously avenging himself upon psychotic bio-smugglers and claiming he cares for no one, only to turn around and behave like a typical romantic the next. It isn’t entirely jarring, but for me it hurt the dark tone and mature themes to discover the central core of the series is a centuries-old fairytale love story.

Sorry. I like fairytale love stories. But I also like darkly thematic dystopian science fiction, and in my opinion the two mix about as well as apple liqueur and olive oil.

This is all, however, as I said one off my only major gripes about the series. And even the sum of its parts aren’t badly executed. Like I said, Quell is charismatic, Kovacs is haunted, and all three actors (Kinnaman, Goldsberry, and Kim as Kovacs in his original sleeve) deliver convincing performances as well as share a great sense of chemistry, so the love story is believable at least. Visual effects and set design are also wonderful, and for such a high concept sci-fi setting it all feels very seamless. Dialogue is well-scripted as well, and most of Poe’s interactions with other characters are some of the best scenes. It’s also nice to see a series that exploits the naked female form to a fault, yet also makes a point to ensure you get just as much if not far more male nudity to surprisingly counterpoint its shamelessness. I haven’t seen this many swinging dicks since the last time I read YouTube comments. Just makes you feel better when the characters finally ride the stuffed unicorn, know what I mean?

Many of the minor roles from the novel are also modified to make certain characters more important, and some of their roles have been altered so that they are completely different people. Some of these changes work better than others. Rei, as Tak’s sister rather than just some asshole crime boss he once knew, was a change in the story that had the reverse effect of how I felt about the altered Kovacs/Envoy backstory. It makes Reileen a more interesting character than just the Big Bad you might expect in such a story, and causes her motivations, maniacal as they remain, to be far more empathic and invested in the events of the plot. In that light, they made the villain stand out as memorable among the bland villains we often get in movies and TV shows now, thanks to the K-Mart quality antagonists so popularized by the Marvel movies.

While certainly not perfect, Altered Carbon still manages to offer fans of science fiction a fascinating world populated by characters who are easy to give a damn about, and a galaxy spanning story of heartbreak, betrayal, and retribution. I personally wasn’t that big a fan of the romantic warrior monk stuff in this particular story, but that doesn’t mean it won’t appeal to others. There’s enough mystery here to keep you guessing, and enough solid dramatic force to keep us wanting more on its own merits, not by virtue of any stupid cliffhangers. Much of the visual style and action sequences are just icing on the cake, really. Though, I confess, I almost jizzed my pants when I got to see the Phillips Squeeze Gun in action. And there’s nothing quite like one of those sci-fi stories where someone picks up a samurai sword, let alone during the finale.

All told, I’d watch Altered Carbon again, and you should too. Regardless of whatever I say, or my own personal preferences, it deserves your attention. Because it may be adapted from a novel, but a least it’s trying to be something different than most of what’s out there right now, even if its poetic love story doesn’t want it to be. So, ignore cynical bastards like me, watch the damn show and decide for yourself.

                    侍    headless                   

[marmolita]

I finished Punisher!

Overall: that was WAY WAY better than I thought it was going to be!  If you, like me, didn’t give a shit about Frank Castle during DD S2 and weren’t going to watch this show because of it, maybe give it a chance.

Some thoughts, spoilers below the cut.

Okay so number one, is Frank Wolverine or something because that dude heals from life-threatening wounds in HOURS, wtf even.

Next: while I do not find his face attractive AT ALL and the idea that a character like Frank Castle would wax his chest (and back, etc) is RIDICULOUS, I do appreciate how massively fucking ripped he was and the gratuitous shirtlessness.  (Still not at all approaching being on par with DD S1 and the black PJs though.  rip black pjs)

I cannot believe they had an actual scene where one guy tells another guy “I miss sex, I’m hung like a moose” and drops his pants and starts talking about asses and that’s NOT the most popular ship in the fandom.  What the actual fuck, fandom.

Okay what else about Frank.  Number one, they reused that footage of his wife waking him up SO MANY TIMES that Mr Lita and I rolled our eyes at each other every time it came on.  Number two: Frank’s wife and kids are never fleshed out?  Like literally all we know is they died for his manpain and his wife bought him Bruce Springsteen tickets one time.  Number three: HE IS NOT A GOOD PERSON, GUYS, CAN WE STOP ACTING LIKE HE IS A GOOD PERSON.  HE STRAIGHT UP MURDERED SMALL TIME CRIMINALS FOR BEING ASSOCIATED WITH A GANG THAT WAS ASSOCIATED WITH THE PEOPLE WHO KILLED HIS FAMILY.  THAT RANDOM GETAWAY DRIVER DID NOT DESERVE TO BE HUNG ON A MEAT HOOK TO BLEED OUT OR SHOT IN THE FACE.  (in case you couldn’t tell I oppose the death penalty in general, but like, at least make the punishment fit the crime asshole)

The biggest surprise for me of this show was that Karen never got to break the story about the CIA selling heroin???????????????  Why even have Karen on the show if she wasn’t going to break that story????????????????????????????????????????????  Also Karen wtf you are better than this, you are better than Frank.

Politically, I’m not sure what this show was trying to tell me.  The CIA is bad, gun control is bad?  People need guns?  We should death penalty everyone???  who fucking knows, but whatever it was, I’m pretty sure I disagree with it for that part.  The “veterans need mental health services” part I’m on board with though and I appreciated that the NRA asshole was portrayed as a bad dude.

relatedly I apparently still have some kind of level of trauma from the George W years because I cringe every time I hear the name “Homeland Security”

Curtis is such a good dude and didn’t deserve any of this shit

OKAY LET’S TALK ABOUT BILLY RUSSO

well okay I feel like I should talk about Madani first?  Okay let’s talk about Madani.  She was super badass and I loved her!  But oh my god Madani you are also an idiot sometimes, and I cannot believe she showed up in the last scene only to be IMMEDIATELY SHOT IN THE HEAD.  But yeah I love that our good guy law enforcement hero was a woman, and that they didn’t shy away from showing her having to fight against sexism in her job.  I also enjoy that the CIA directory lady was a lady?  Like she was kind of suspect but turned out to overall be a good guy and I like that.  Also glad to see Brett show up!

OKAY NOW FOR REAL LET’S TALK ABOUT BILLY RUSSO

number one I expect there are a whole series of sex tapes he’s made out there somewhere because a vain guy like that?  who’s clearly super promiscuous and interested in being proud of himself for fucking a lot of ladies?  definitely made more than one sex tape.

number two, let me just say, when he was presented as a good guy I immediately pinned him as a bad guy just because of the hair.  Like seriously the amount of greasy product in his hair alone is enough to make me expect him to be a bad guy?  Also holy shit he was so much hotter when he was being a bad guy.  The sleazy good guy is not an attractive character archetype to me because he’s too sleazy to be good.  The sleazy bad guy though?  Sign me the fuck up.  I liked the backstory they provided for him too, and I liked that he helped Frank kill the CIA douchebag (talk about violence on tv, jfc), but idk idk his appeal is being sleazy in the kind of way only an attractive person can be and now they seem to be setting him up for a season two where his face is gonna be fucked up?  And like . . . I don’t think I’d enjoy him as a villain if he wasn’t going to also be kinda hot.

Speaking of: by royal decree all male characters should wear long-sleeved henleys forever.  It’s such a hot look???  idk why?????????? but I’m so here for it.

Anyway I apologize for the fact that somewhere along the line I got it into my head that Billy is the kind of guy who says “shit” instead of “fuck” when he’s about to come and once I had that thought I could not stop thinking it for the entire rest of the season.  Also I suspect that nobody has written the kind of fanfic I would read for this show so I”m probably not even going to bother looking for it.

(Also also: that one flashback of Frank and his fam and Billy?  If Billy didn’t have abuse-related Issues with men I would say that him and Frank and Frank’s wife absolutely had at least one threesome.)

[thefudge]

TLJ thoughts, post-viewing

sooo, i have a lot of feelings about a lot of things. also the subtitles didn’t prepare me. for a lot.

this movie is made up of many quiet, non-verbal moments and rian johnson lets those moments sink in and dwell with you and that’s great

rey exploring the workings of the force, for example. there’s a really cool sequence where she’s trying to find out who her parents are and she lowers herself in the embodiment of the dark side and it’s very trippy and cool. it’s not rushed and it’s v atmospheric. she gets the incentive to do that thanks to kylo. his revelations about luke and his general aura of “troubled darkness” inspire her to dig deeper.

i think what i liked most about reylo was its sense of gratuitous intimacy. what i mean by this is that they seemed to connect without effort, without having to manipulate the plot to make it fit. they seemed be in their own little movie, dealing with things beyond the usual surface level of star wars ‘good vs. evil’. kylo’s philosophy about letting the past go is definitely flawed, but the way the movie frames reylo, they do seem to “let go” of their surroundings and circumstances when they’re together. it’s sort of timeless. 

i will say, i don’t think the romance was that "romantic”, if that makes sense? and i think it’s a good thing. their bond is very real, but it goes beyond “romantic drama” and your usual hero/villain trope. it has shades of that, ofc, and there is palpable sexual and romantic tension, imo. but i sensed something more mature and interesting between them. it could go either way. do i want reylo to have a future in ep 9 and after? yep. is it possible they won’t? also yep. mainly because kylo let rey down. and here’s the kicker: it’s not rey that really rejects him. it’s him that rejects rey. because she tries quite a few times to bring him over to her side, and i think her anger and sadness stem from the fact that, ultimately, kylo didn’t choose her, and ergo the light. he’s still v much conflicted and i think she can sense that. but rey is hungry. she wants all or nothing. she can’t have half of him. so she doesn’t reject him as much as tell him straight up that she won’t stand for being second. for instance, she expects him to fold to her side immediately after taking down snoke. when he doesn’t, she’s quite literally in tears. this hurts her on a deeper level than “oh no, the dark side won and the resistance lost an important ally.” no, this feels like her parents all over. leaving her, deserting her. that’s how i read it, tbh. 

and kylo does some reprehensible shit in the latter quarter of the movie, lol, like i won’t woobify him, since i like my antiheroes to be antiheroes.  but he's not quite villain level?  if u look at snoke, if u take that cool, collected snarky asshole - that’s a villain. he knows who he is, and what he wants. kylo is hopelessly confused and always looking for validation. he tells rey that she’s the one always looking for father figures - but oh, benny ben. it’s actually you. he wants someone to really see him, and that’s why he’s drawn to rey. but just to clarify: he doesn’t have it in him to kill his mother. he has an open, unambiguous chance and he stops. he is willing to destroy her when she stands behind walls and is shielded by the resistance. yet when she’s in the open, no. that was my read on it. 

his fight with luke is...very much one-sided. luke appears as a force-hologram to fight him and kylo just wants to obliterate him for very, very personal reasons. kylo is not the cool, collected new emperor who is going to “kill the past”. he lives so much in the past that he doesn’t even realize luke isn’t even there. 

and btw, kylo doesn’t kill luke, though he wishes he had. early on we get this foreshadowing. when the first force-bond happens between him and rey, he goes “no, you’re not doing this. the effort would kill you.” meaning that, to transport yourself through space via force (without a bond) takes a looooot of energy. luke goes on a suicide mission, basically. he knows using the force like this will kill him. he’s almost having fun toying with kylo at the end. 

when kylo realizes he’s a force-hologram, luke smiles and says “see you around, kid.” not exactly anakin vs obi-wan, if u know what i mean.

and then back on the island, we see luke peacefully give himself over to the force and vanish. it’s v tranquil and quite satisfying and the original star wars theme is used so well, imo. do i think we could’ve had more of luke? sure. but he went out on his own terms. that’s the whole point - kylo didn’t kill him. he killed himself.

again, i want to emphasize that kylo is still very much an antihero, dipping his toe into villainy (and failing - which makes him more angry, which only makes it harder to be the villain he wants to be haha). he’s not a Good Guy. many posts will crop up in the tag about what a poor, lost soul he is. yes and no. rey actually understands him when she closes the falcon door on him. she knows him and appreciates him. he will never really be ben solo and that’s a good thing. trying to be ben solo so hard is what got him in this mess. he isn’t supposed to be a Good Guy. so no, i don’t want him to “turn” (see my thoughts on “turning” below). i want him to truly move beyond the past and reform himself on his own terms, just like luke. because hey fam, luke isn’t a Good Guy in this movie either AND THAT’S GREAT. anyway, i certainly won’t be romanticizing him (kylo). he’s a compelling antihero who definitely has baggage and trauma (luke did try to kill him as a boy, though he has a wildly dramatized version of the event lol) but he is also someone who has to help himself. ultimately, rey’s goal isn’t to “save” him but to push him to save himself. honestly, if kylo had followed her and “turned” and reluctantly joined the resistance, it would’ve been a total let down and a betrayal of his character. him “turning” wouldn’t help him. he’d still have that darkness and that anger inside of him, multiplied. boy needs therapy - aka working through his issues, not ignoring them and joining the Good Side. 

Other things I liked: 

- admiral holdo’s arc - beautiful, well-done and surprising. laura dern kills it. 

- benicio del toro!!!!! no small parts with this man. he is delightful. imagine rick from “rick and morty” but way hotter lol. he was probably my favorite addition, after rose. he’s the middle-ground guy, he’s more han solo than fucking han solo. he doesn’t believe in good guys vs bad guys and he shows both finn and the audience that the two sides err because they believe their path is the only path. he perfectly encapsulates the very real contradictions in modern-day ethics and how our “pure and wholesome” activism often shields us from some terrible truths. he does have a semblance of a heart underneath his cynicism but i love that in the end he doesn’t suddenly discover the power of friendship with finn and rose. he’s a jaded asshole with shades of good, who’s probably seen some rough shit. BUT, he has this super cute moment with rose before things go to shit regarding her necklace and it’s !!!!!! it shows how much he understands human nature. i kinda ship them. aaaanyway. i definitely think he will return, his arc is not done. 

- ROSE TICO SMILING AND BEING HAPPY. ROSE TICO RIDING THAT KANGAROO CREATURE AND ENJOYING LIFE. i treasured those scenes a lot. she’s a great combo of feisty and childlike, tough and innocent. gosh, she reminds me of bonnie bennett so much ;___;

- general hux. yall, it’s true. it’s all true. hux may have won me over. hux in TFA was just a lite over-the-top villain imo. but here??? he’s such a fun, dynamic character, rian gave him a lot of fun, humorous moments. and honest to god, he’s also given some humanity. when kylo takes over, he is genuinely affected and disturbed by his level of aggression. and he’s....idk, much less evil in this one. probably because of the humor. he just seems like a man dead-set on fulfilling his mission, brainwashed to the core. and underneath the brainwashing, he seems to be your average overwhelmed white dude. i don’t think he’ll be redeemed or anything but...it’s weird how at the end of TLJ he is probably the MOST reasonable dude from the first order???

- there’s this great little message about failure. i think here TLJ was inspired by Rogue One. because a lot of the characters in this movie learn to let go and accept defeat. you can’t always save everyone, you can’t always fight back. sometimes, the brave thing is to retreat and treasure the ppl you love. so i def liked that.

- GODDAMN GHOST YODA. i honestly thought i’d hate it because...gimmick, amirite? but that scene with luke was SO emotional and also funny and visceral and just - i was a bit teary-eyed, ME, THE GRINCH. i was suddenly nine again, watching star wars for the first time. ANYWAY. 

- luke skywalker deserves a separate entry. mark hamill did so much with this character in the last few scenes. also some of the stuff he says about the force in this movie is legit beautiful and i love how he criticizes the vanity of the jedi - because this was what was missing from the prequels. anakin fell because the council was tone-deaf. the jedi are often responsible for their own doom and so they must always be vigilant - which is a goddamn thankless job. i love that luke acknowledges this. 

-luke/leia moment. GAAAAH. HE KISSES HER FOREHEAD GOODBYE AND SHE KNOWS HE’S NOT COMING BACK FROM THIS. I DIED.

- in that order of business, leia finally FIIIINALLY gets to show off a bit and use the force in a pro-active manner. it’s also clear to me that episode 9 would’ve been the story of her and “ben” and i think she would have been the catalyst for his eventual development. but sadly, we’ll never see that ;____; 

-there is some gorgeous cinematography and visual direction in this movie. particularly in the third act, on that salt planet? the red trails? shivers. 

-i didn’t hate any of the new creatures like i thought i would??? probably because they were used sparingly and with a sense of humor.

Stuff i kind of didn’t like:

- phasma. phasma, phasma, phasma. WHAT was that??? like tell me that wasn’t anticlimactic as hell. she was, sadly, a pointless character. unless she somehow survived the fire and destruction, which i doubt, i really don’t see the point of casting wonderful gwendolyn christie just to stand there in armor. 

- MAZ KANATA. is barely in this. i call bullshit. 

-sigh, okay so i loved rose to death, but her arc revolved way too much around finn. on the one hand i get it, on the other hand.... i was hyped because ppl were saying she gets this big moment to shine. and granted, imo, she shines every moment she’s on screen. but i think her climactic scene was... *fart noises*. it’s completely centered around finn. she saves him basically, and it’s definitely heartfelt and lovely but also...it’s finn’s moment 100%. because it’s him who has to learn about his own worth. i do think they make a good team and i ship them a little bit, but the one-sided kiss was not satisfying and i’m tired of having to watch my darling woc give their love and devotion freely, only to be  tertiary characters in their own story. like, imo, it should’ve been rose who flew straight into that cannon and tried to take it down for her sister. she should’ve been the one determined to take it down. and it should’ve been finn to save her and tell her they must find meaning in other things. finn definitely cares for her and in the last scene we have of him, he’s tending over rose and waiting for her to wake up BUT. will rose ever be number one for anyone, like the white girls, i wonder? eh, i’m probably just grumpy old aunt. she does get to have an internal world, she’s a believable human being, she matters. the thing is, white girls in these movies can bend their little finger and they’re considered worthy and complex. rose has to jump through hoops to be seen the same way. anyway.

- i liked poe dameron’s arc, which is “hey, maybe i should stop posturing and listen to women more lol” which is “learn when to retreat and stand down” but...honestly, you hire gorgeous oscar isaac who can give you real emotional weight and you just...kinda under-utilize him. yes, he did a lot of stuff, but he...didn’t take time to internalize it. this dude feels like he’s got a lot of demons and conflicting desires and a rich inner life, yet we only skim the surface of that. like, he’s aways in go-mode, we rarely get a quiet moment with him. like pls fix this, episode 9. 

-luke’s reaction to han’s death is pfffffffffffff. maybe we’ll get more in a deleted scene? 

- also....can we stop pussyfooting and legit talk about han as a dad? because they keep hinting he wasn’t a good one, nor a very good husband to leia. but...it’s very unsatisfying to keep hearing about it without good storytelling to back it up. 

- the world-building & the origins of the first order. i had problems with this in TFA and, big surprise, i still have problems with it here. basically, why has the first order taken over the new republic? how did they gain support? were there remnants of the old empire that survived and thrived as the first order? what about the knights of ren? luke mentions kylo took some students with him when he destroyed the jedi temple, so....what about those guys? like, this very fraught and war-torn landscape doesn’t have a solid history. how did A become B? why is every corner of the galaxy oppressed? why are some planets thriving more? are they all arm-dealers??? i find that hard to believe. yeah, we have the expanded universe for that, we have books and comics etc. but i need these movies to give us a sense of their own universe. i’m...still not convinced. 

-lolol, snoke dies like a bitch. and it’s so anticlimactic and duuuumb. dude, a five-year old coulda seen that coming but your ancient super powerful ass couldn’t? laaaame. he’s like “oh, yes, i sense no more conflict in you, kylo ren. just a deep certainty”. YES FOOL, because he’s decided to remove u, because he’s confident he wants rey, and not you, by his side. it was soooo lame. but i guess we had to remove him to make the audience think kylo was turning good for a second there.

-which reminds me... and you probably saw this coming, i hate the idea of “turning”. rey keeps talking about ben turning to the light. and this verb annoys me to no end. it’s made clear that they both already have a lot of light and darkness in each other. it’s about finding balance. where’s my grey jedi??? episode 9 pls????

Extra Reylo stuff i didn’t see mentioned which i adored: 

- during their first force-bond moment when they sense each other, kylo ren runs out of the medical unit and into the corridor like a goddamn luckless teenager, expecting to see rey pop up in a prom dress.  it’s precious. i love awkward!kylo. also rey tries to shoot him bc she thinks he’s actually there and kylo bends down, thinking he was shot. it’s a rly cool moment. and it doesn’t feel malicious like, he doesn’t expect anything less from her. 

- there’s so much charged electricity between them and it’s not all sexual. it’s kinda mystical and i dig it. i’m weirdly reminded of xavier and magneto??? as in two enemies who have such a rich history and whose bond transcends human morality. 

-OKAY. i saw no one talking about this but THAT GODDAMN SNOW WHITE SCENE. so rey decides she’s going to turn kylo to the light because that’s their one hope of defeating the first order etc. luke tries to stop her, but she’s like i’m going after my man. okay. she gets on the falcon, then she puts herself in this casket-like pod and AND. we get this lovely, breath-taking sequence of her arriving at the first order base, slipping gently into the hangar in her casket. and she’s def nervous. AND THEN. she looks up through the glass and there’s steam at first and through the steam we see kylo’s face, looking down at her wistfully. IT’S SO WEIRDLY FAIRY-TALE WTF. and then ofc the guards come in to shackle her. BUT JESUS. the prince looking into the casket to find snow-white WHAT ARE THESE AESTHETICS. it felt like a nod to the infamous scene in TFA where he carries her bridal style. it’s very fairy-tale-esque. 

- i love that in the scene with the multiple reys, when she reaches through the mirror to see her parents, the shadowy figure who appears and touches her hand seems at first to be kylo and then she realizes it’s herself. i also love that she talks to kylo about that experience. GAH. 

- i just rly loved that there was so much humanity in their interactions.

Reylo stuff which sort of bothered me/left me wanting more: 

- like excuse u rian,  during the praetorian guards fight, i needed more moments where kylo looks at rey and is worried for her sake. i needed that fight to be a bit more visceral and about the two of them and their survival. they do fight together and it’s great but then...they’re sort of separated and carry their own small battles (i did love how rey saved him with that lightsaber throw)

- the whole “you come from nothing, you are nothing.” yea yeah, he’s a dummy who doesnt know how to express his feelings, he’s mr. darcy x 1000 of faux pas. but i still think adam driver’s acting went a little much there. the way he delivered that line was a bit off for me. ofc, he follows it with “but not to me”, because he’s basically proposing to her, but i needed a bit more, an extra line from him confirming her importance. or maybe no extra line, but a bit more feeling. did i mention i love wrecked!kylo? the “please” killed me haha. 

Final thoughts:

- enjoyed it more than i expected to, and it does operate with way more nuance than TFA but it stiiiill fell short with some characters. it didn’t have the weight of rogue one for me, but it’s more lighthearted and entertaining, which i appreciate, cuz it reminded me of my childhood. and ultimately, whether we like it or not, disney does operate on nostalgia. all in all, it’s a worthy star wars movie, 8/10. rian deserves an A-. (he also wrote this thing and whoaaa...i wonder how much more ambiguous and dark this movie woulda been if he’d been given full non-disney freedom)

[kiss-shotheart-under-blade]

Kizu Rambles and Some Meta Discussions (feel free to add any thoughts to continue the conversation):

So this is mostly just a list of my thoughts as I finally get to the Kizu movies I’ll be adding as I watch.

○ Part 1: Tekketsu-hen “Iron-Blooded” • The slow jazz combo with the fanservice kills me. I’m dead. • Dude, I’m super vibing the character designs for this. Like Hanekawa is so fucking cute, but not in an overwhelmingly cutesy way that I’m personally not a huge fan of. • This definitely gives a different feel to the Monogatari Series if you started on this first, which I knew some people have. • Araragi looks so much more fashionable here (probably from the style change). Like I can’t get over his peace necklace right now. • God, Shinobu, well Kiss-Shot in this case, crying breaks my heart. • Seriously though, this is so beautiful. I love the character designs for this soo much. Gosh. • Not gunna lie, I miss the long monologues. I have always loved character driven, dialogue heavy pieces of works. • They’re really playing up the horror aspect of this as expected. It’s neato. • Knowing context means everything you see makes a lot more sense and is way sadder too, like the name and the head rubs. Also, Kiss-Shot is soo fucking cute♡ Best girl~ • I know Shinobu speaks in an old-timey manner, but these subs are laying it on thick though the quality is great. 👌 • I understand this is a prequel, but damn if you think I won’t cheer from seeing Oshino Meme. I miss that man. Also, man I cannot get enough of this art style. Definitely art inspo♡♡♡ • Man, this is soo good. God, understanding the finale of their exchange and watching Kiss-Shot just silently bare it leaves the viewer with so much tension and drama, or at least for me. • The ending theme 👌👌👌 Now onto part 2!

○ Part 2: Nekketsu-hen “Hot-Blooded” • Oh shit bois, ohh shit. A fight! Like jkay, not yet. • Dude, the Aikido for Dummies part kills me. • I saw the baby hand, and all I could think of was the Deadpool movie. • Dramaturgy gave up really quickly. I wanna know why he hunts other vamps. • Every fanservice scene this time is super over dramatic in the movies. I’m crying. Also, Hanekawa seriously got the cutest lingerie. Like girlll~ • Kakakaa, the leg scene. Ahahahahaha~ • I really do prefer the designs in this for the vampire hunters than the og ones. Ngl. • Thanks, Araragi, for asking questions I’ve been wondering like about the limbs 👍👍 Better than leaving it as some weird mystery. • My dudes, I’m living for the Bake music remakes are♡ • I know it uses a lot of jazzy music, but I’m crying at the sexy jazz that starts planning as Oshino looks at Araragi. I know there’s a ship for it out there. • Dude, young teen Shinobu doing some nice acrobatics here got me feeling those Breath of the Wild Zelda vibes~🌹 The pointy ears help with that image. • Super confirmed: I’m weak to Jazz. Reminds me of Transistor music. • Their conversation about running away from reality, and Hanekawa looking down reminds me of a meta I read about how people can probably start seeing oddities not only from having a trauma, but also from choosing to avert one’s eyes from reality, allowing them to shift their gaze into that realm in which oddities exist. Once you’ve seen one, it’s hard to leave that ‘night world’ since you can’t unsee what’s happened once before. I really like that explanation for oddities since it seems to fit the most. Oshino often describes how oddities are what we make of it; that they basically have to live by their reputation, our perspection of them. Makes sense why Shinobu isn’t acting like an oddity because she wasn’t being viewed as one anymore. • Always nice to see a gratuitous body shot of guys lately. It’s nice to see the sexy fanservice not limited to the girls. Also, thanks half sleepy grumbles of Shinobu about how being a vampire makes you hot. It was amusingly adorable, and also informative about why Araragi is fucking shredded! I always wondered why he was so ripped. • ‘Course I’m just checking to see how human you are. *slowly strokes every ab* Yuuuuuppp, suuuper humab. *circles some more* Wow, so human. Glad to know they’re both lusty after each other’s bods • The part I paused at when Hanekawa falls into the chair after being accused of touching other men’s bods frequently show that she is thicc 👌 Or at least she is from the angle. • I just did this awful screech laugh when he did the sexy lean down on chair and go, seriously thanks, like a typical fucking bishounen. Then Hanekawa’s reaction. I’m dying, Squirtle! Makes the weirdest fucking character ever, but also makes him super weirdly endearing and weirdly hot. Thanks NishiOisiN. 👍👍 • I’m CACKLING~! A glasses girl porno. Why always so specific? Like I’m not into loli’s so lemme grab this hot, sporty milf mag, hmm, just like that one woman, hmmmm. I’m super enjoying the :3 face Hanekawa makes as she glances at him knowingly. More cat-like pre-cat. • Teen Kiss-Shot has such a nice aesthetic, but jesus fuck that head imploring scene, like girl has no chill. I’m always uncomfortable with those types of horror-y scenes. • All I can think everytime I see that ridiculous big ass cross is something along the lines of, ‘lol, I’m not overcompensating all.’ • Forrealz, like how isn’t that cross hurting Mr. Half-Vamp himself, Episode? Real questions. Also, his life and crazed looks kill me. • What the fuck, Episode!? That explains why Hanekawa seemed so put-off when she saw him again in Tsubasa Tiger! Bro, she’s human, chilllll~ Also, must every brilliant character have a Kakyoin moment? Honestly this could be a Jojo reference for all we know since we know NisiOisiN enjoys his references, including those to JJBA. • Oshino really plays up his true neutral nature here. Okay, lemme correct myself, I think he’s more chaotic neutral or even chaotic good then true neutral which is more Gaen. • Again with the head plunging. Geeze. I love this literal use your brain. • I’m gay for young adult Kiss-Shot. She’s hot. Best girl 👌 • You gotta props Araragi for being smart, even if he’s really dense. Also, the more human, the deadlier. I really wanna know why they’re hunting Kiss-Shot down. • Hanekawa was wild during Golden Week. Also, dick in pants, Araragi. He’s totes gunna worship those panties. • This explains even more Tsubasa Cat, and his obsession with dying for her. Her selflessness (ish) influences the development of his own. Did she already like him? Like I am curious why she helps him since she’s not as saintly as he think she is. • Guillotine Cutter is a right up ass. Man, I wish we can get more Koyomi Vamp fighting scenes in Monogatari, but alas he’s half human for now. • I love these titular character arcs barely show the characters. Yeah~ It’s not uncommon, but damn, lemme see my vamp girl! • Ending theme is super jammy♡ French music is so pleasant to listen to~ I’m now on part 3! I do really enjoy the standalone nature of these. I wish they would air them in theater like Kimi no Na Wa did. (And also completely caught up for the first time in years since I’ve started since I have such a bad habit of starting and not finishing even if I really like it. Honestly, all I wanna do is rewatch this series over and over again to analyse every part. Also, gotta read those light novels~)

○ Part 3: Reiketsu-hen “Cold-Blooded” • When??

To be continued…