#something about this one is compelling me

[missarchive]

Spencer finally agrees to let you peg him and out of no where becomes a full submissive whiny and needy

so maybe i got a little carried away with this one...

cw; +18 minors dni, sub!spencer, anal play, oral (m. receiving), pegging, praise, sex toys, porn mention

You step into your bedroom, the weight of the day pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm, golden hue across the room, but even that familiar comfort doesn’t alleviate your exhaustion. With a deep sigh, you collapse onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath your weight. The month has been brutal—a seemingly endless series of late nights, grueling days, and one of the most difficult cases your team has ever faced. The effort has drained every ounce of your energy, leaving little time for yourself, let alone for Spencer.

Your eyes drift to him, lying on his side of the bed, his profile bathed in the faint light. His eyes are closed, and the faint strains of classical music hum softly from his earbuds. It’s his nightly ritual, a small slice of tranquility amid the chaos. He’s so focused, so absorbed in the music, that he doesn’t even notice your gaze lingering on him.

You watch him for a few quiet moments, taking in the way his features seem to soften in the calm. His lashes rest against his cheeks, and his lips part ever so slightly, as though he’s on the verge of sleep. Something about him looks so peaceful, so untouched by the storm you’ve both weathered.

Taking a steadying breath, you push yourself upright. The exhaustion doesn’t fade, but something compels you to move closer. Crawling across the bed, you reach out, your hand coming to rest gently on his chest. His warmth seeps into your palm, grounding you in the moment.

“Spencer, honey,” you murmur softly.

The music halts immediately, and his eyes flutter open. He blinks a few times before focusing on you, his gaze warm and familiar despite the weariness etched across his face. “Hey, sweetheart,” he replies, his voice tinged with the heaviness of the day but laced with affection. “What’s up?”

You smile at the tenderness in his tone. Even now, when exhaustion clings to both of you like a second skin, he’s still so present, so attentive. “I wanted to ask you something,” you say, sliding out from under the covers to kneel on the mattress beside him.

Spencer sits up immediately, his brow furrowing slightly as his focus sharpens. “What is it?” he asks, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of apprehension.

You hesitate for a moment, searching for the right words. Your heart pounds a little faster as you finally voice the question. “I was wondering if you would let me peg you,” you say, keeping your tone as soft and nonchalant as possible.

His eyes widen slightly, and you notice the flicker of fear that passes through them. Spencer has always been open-minded and eager to make you happy, but you know this particular subject is new territory for him.

“Um…” he begins, his voice faltering as his gaze darts away. You can see the uncertainty in the way his hands fidget with the edge of the blanket. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reach out to touch his arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay,” you say gently, offering him an easy way out. “We don’t have to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You start to slide back under the covers, prepared to let the moment pass, but his hand suddenly closes over yours, stopping you in your tracks.

“Wait,” he says, his voice firmer now.

You turn back to him, and this time his gaze is steady, locking onto yours with a newfound resolve. The nervousness is still there, but beneath it, you catch a spark of courage.

“I want to try it,” he says, his words measured but sincere. Your heart leaps at the declaration, a swell of gratitude and affection washing over you.

He hesitates, his voice softening as his vulnerability shines through. “I just… I don’t know if I’m going to like it. What if I hate it?” There’s a crack in his voice, and you can see how much courage it’s taking for him to even consider this.

You reach out again, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing gently against his cheeks. “If you don’t like it, we’ll stop. No pressure, no expectations. I just love that you’re willing to try this for me,” you say, your voice filled with reassurance.

Spencer nods slowly, exhaling a shaky breath. The nervousness in his eyes doesn’t disappear completely, but there’s a flicker of trust there now—trust in you and in the connection you share.

“I’m going to make sure you like it,” you say softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. The warmth of the gesture makes his smile bloom, and he kisses you back, his lips tender and unhurried against yours.

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” you murmur, your voice filled with affection and sincerity. You kiss him again, this time lingering just a little longer, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. When you pull away, his smile is still there—soft and genuine—and the sight of it fills your chest with a deep, quiet happiness.

“We’ll take a few days,” you continue, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face. “I want you to feel comfortable and relaxed. When you’re ready, we’ll do this. Okay?”

Spencer looks at you for a moment, his hazel eyes searching yours before he nods. “Okay,” he says softly, his voice carrying a mixture of trust and determination.

Satisfied, you shift back to your usual spot on your side of the bed, nestling into the familiar warmth of the blankets. Spencer watches you with a thoughtful expression before settling down beside you, his hand briefly grazing yours as if to anchor himself to you.

“Alright,” he says, his tone lightening just enough to let you know he’s trying. “I’ll do my best to relax by then.”

You smile to yourself, feeling a quiet pride in his willingness to try something new, to trust you so deeply. The soft hum of contentment settles over the room, and as you close your eyes, you know this is just another way your connection grows stronger.

A few days later, Spencer comes home earlier than usual. You’re lounging in the living room when you hear the front door open and slam shut, followed by the unmistakable sound of his hurried footsteps heading straight for the bedroom. Something about his energy feels different—excited, almost jittery.

Curious, you follow him and peek into the room just as he’s setting down a large box and a few smaller items you can’t quite make out. He’s grinning from ear to ear, his cheeks flushed with anticipation, and his hazel eyes shine brighter than you’ve seen in days.

“What’s all that?” you ask, your curiosity piqued as you step closer.

Spencer takes a deep breath, his hands brushing over the box nervously before he looks up at you. “I did some research,” he says, his tone a mixture of pride and awkwardness. His gaze flickers down to the items he’s brought, and his cheeks redden even further. “I was scared at first, but… I knew how much this meant to you.”

You tilt your head, watching him intently as he takes a small step forward. There’s a flicker of determination in his expression now, pushing through the nerves. “So… I watched porn.”

The words catch you off guard, and a burst of laughter escapes before you can stop it. Spencer looks so adorably earnest, standing there with that sheepish expression, that you can’t help but find the moment endearing. “Porn?” you repeat, chuckling.

“Well, yeah,” he says, shifting on his feet as he scratches the back of his neck. “It seemed like the most efficient way to learn. I wanted to understand, you know… technique.” His tone is matter-of-fact, but the blush spreading across his face betrays his embarrassment.

Your laughter softens into a warm smile as he takes another step closer, his nervous energy practically radiating off him. “So,” he continues, motioning to the items behind him, “I bought all this stuff for us. I think it should work well together.”

Intrigued, you walk over to the pile and begin inspecting it. Inside the box, you find a selection of items: large plugs, sleek dildos in varying sizes, several bottles of lube, and a high-quality harness. Your excitement builds as you take in everything he’s thoughtfully gathered. Each piece feels intentional, like he’s truly put effort into understanding and preparing for this.

When you turn back to him, Spencer is watching you closely, his cheeks still a deep shade of red. The vulnerability in his expression makes your heart swell.

“Do you think we can start now?” he asks, his voice soft but steady as his eyes meet yours.

You nod, your excitement bubbling to the surface as you motion for him to come closer. He steps forward, his movements tentative but purposeful, and you reach for him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders.

Leaning in, you press your lips to his in a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft against yours, trembling slightly with nerves. You can taste his apprehension, but it’s clear that his desire to please you—and his trust in you—overpowers his fears.

As the kiss deepens, you feel him relax ever so slightly, his hands brushing tentatively against your sides. The air between you is electric, charged with a mix of anticipation and affection. You pull back just enough to whisper, “We’ll take it slow, okay?”

Spencer nods, his eyes locked on yours, and you can see the flicker of trust and excitement that’s starting to replace his nerves. 

You lean in, pressing soft kisses along Spencer’s neck, letting your lips linger just enough to tease. His breathing is already growing heavier, each exhale escaping with a faint quiver. You smile against his skin, the anticipation bubbling up inside you. This is going to be fun.

Trailing your kisses lower, you take your time exploring, savoring every reaction. When you reach his collarbone, you gently nip at it, and the sound he makes—a sharp gasp—sends a thrill through you. You glance up to see him tipping his head back, his eyes closed, his face awash in pleasure.

“Come on,” you whisper, taking his hand in yours. There’s no hesitation as he follows you, his trust evident in the way his fingers lace with yours. You guide him to the bed, and he sits on the edge, watching you with wide, expectant eyes.

Moving with intention, you step closer and begin to undress him. Your fingers work delicately at the buttons of his shirt, and as each one comes undone, you notice the faint rise and fall of his chest quicken. He’s looking at you intently, the nerves creeping back into his expression.

But then, his eyes meet yours. The warmth and hunger in your gaze seem to melt his apprehension. You can see the moment he relaxes, the tension in his shoulders easing as he realizes just how much you want this—how much you want him.

Once his clothes are discarded, you gently urge him to lie back on the bed. He complies, stretching out across the mattress, his legs parting instinctively as you position him. You pause for a moment, taking in the sight of him—his flushed cheeks, his slightly parted lips, and the way his body seems to tremble under your gaze.

Leaning down, you start with soft, warm kisses on the inside of his thighs. His skin is smooth and sensitive, and the way he twitches beneath your touch makes your smile widen. You keep your pace unhurried, teasing him with featherlight brushes of your lips.

Spencer’s breathing grows erratic, a mix of gasps and soft whimpers escaping him as you work your way closer to where he wants you most. His legs are already squirming, shifting restlessly as he tries to process the sensations.

“You’re so sensitive,” you murmur against his skin, your voice low and teasing.

He lets out a breathy laugh, but it’s quickly swallowed by another gasp as you press a firmer kiss to the tender flesh of his thigh.

You inch closer, your lips trailing ever upward, and the anticipation in Spencer’s body is palpable. His legs shift restlessly, his chest rising and falling as his breath comes in short, uneven bursts. By the time you’re near his cock, he’s already squirming beneath you, unable to stay still.

He’s so hard already, his arousal evident in the way he twitches with every slight movement of your touch. You glance up at him briefly before taking him into your mouth, the heat and weight of him filling you. The moment your lips wrap around him, he lets out a soft, unfiltered gasp that shoots straight through you.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes, his voice rough and tinged with disbelief at the sensation.

You hum softly in response, letting the vibrations ripple through him as you start to move. Slow, deliberate bobs of your head have him unraveling almost immediately. You can feel every pulse, every throb of his arousal, and it only spurs you on.

Spencer’s hands grip the sheets beside him, his knuckles turning white as he struggles to keep some semblance of control. You know if you keep this up much longer, he’s not going to last—and that’s exactly why you stop.

Pulling back slowly, you release him with a soft, teasing drag of your tongue. Spencer’s eyes snap open, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of confusion and desperation. For a moment, he looks like he’s about to protest, his lips parting to complain, but then he notices the playful smile curling at the corners of your mouth.

“What?” he asks breathlessly, his voice hoarse with need as he glances down at you.

His expression is equal parts bewildered and captivated, and you can’t help but relish the sight of him—flushed, vulnerable, and completely at your mercy.

“I need you to relax for me, baby,” you whisper, your voice soft and soothing. Spencer looks at you, his hazel eyes filled with a mixture of nervousness and trust. After a moment, he nods, his lips curving into a small, hesitant smile. You watch as he exhales deeply, his shoulders beginning to loosen.

“That’s it,” you murmur, your tone encouraging as you reach over to the bedside table. You grab the bottle of lube, the cool weight of it in your hand grounding you as you turn back to him. Squeezing a generous amount into your palm, you warm it between your fingers before gently applying it to his rim.

He lets out a shaky breath at the first touch, his body instinctively tensing under your hand. “Relax,” you remind him softly, your other hand moving to rest reassuringly on his thigh. You feel the tension ease slightly as he takes another deep breath, his chest rising and falling in an effort to steady himself.

You slowly slip one finger inside, feeling his body react to the intrusion. He flinches slightly, his muscles tightening, but almost immediately forces himself to relax again, exhaling in measured breaths. His determination makes your heart swell, and you offer him a soft, encouraging smile.

“That’s good,” you say quietly, watching him closely. After a few moments, he nods, signaling his readiness for more.

Gently, you add a second finger, moving them with deliberate care. You curl and scissor them slightly, giving him time to adjust. His breathing quickens, and a small, breathy moan escapes his lips. The sound sends a spark of heat through you, and your gaze drifts up to his face.

Spencer’s eyes are closed now, his expression soft and blissful, his lips parted as he lets himself feel everything. The sight of him like this—so vulnerable, so completely in the moment—makes desire pool low in your belly. You bite your lip, trying to steady yourself, but it’s impossible not to feel the pull of how much you want him.

Carefully, you add a third finger. The moment you do, his whole body tenses again, his thighs clenching under your touch. “Shh,” you soothe, your free hand stroking his thigh in slow, calming motions. “Just relax, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

Spencer’s breaths are uneven as he struggles to let go of the tension. You feel him gradually soften under your touch, his body yielding bit by bit. His trust in you is palpable, and you move your fingers again, slow and deliberate, watching his reactions closely.

“That’s it, good boy, Spence” you whisper, your voice filled with quiet praise. He nods faintly, his body beginning to respond to the sensations rather than resist them. You feel the subtle shift as he starts to relax fully into your touch, and it only heightens the growing anticipation between you.

Spencer’s breaths are coming faster now, each exhale accompanied by soft, desperate moans that seem to escape without his permission. His chest rises and falls in rhythm with the pleasure coursing through him, and you know he’s finally relaxed enough to take the next step.

With care, you slide your fingers out of him, his body trembling slightly at the loss of contact. For a moment, you glance down and feel the heat bloom within you—you’re dripping wet, slick with desire, and the realization sends a thrill through your body. You smirk, your arousal heightened by how much Spencer has stirred in you.

Reaching down, you gather some of your wetness on your fingers, the sensation making you bite your lip in anticipation. Without hesitation, you wrap your slick fingers around his cock and stroke him gently, spreading your wetness over his length.

The reaction is immediate. Spencer gasps sharply, his eyes fluttering open as he looks down at you. His gaze locks onto your hand, watching as you glide over him, the sight seemingly too much for him to process. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice breaking on the word.

You smirk, letting your fingers trace over the sensitive head of his cock, watching his hips shift involuntarily in response. “You want me that badly?” you ask, your tone playful but tinged with heat.

“Yes,” he whispers, his voice hoarse and filled with longing. He nods, his body practically vibrating with need.

Leaning down, you press your tongue against the underside of his cock, dragging it slowly from base to tip. The loud moan that spills from him is raw and unrestrained, sending shivers down your spine. His cock twitches against your lips, the sensation fueling your growing desire.

You continue, licking and teasing him, savoring every sound he makes. Spencer’s moans grow louder, filling the room as you work him over with deliberate care. The way he writhes beneath you, his hands gripping the sheets as though they’re the only thing anchoring him, is intoxicating.

“Please,” he whimpers, his voice needy and breathless. “Oh, fuck, yes, please.”

His words make you smirk, a spark of satisfaction flickering in your chest as you take him deeper. You alternate between slow, languid strokes and quicker movements, your tongue tracing along his length with purpose. The taste of him, the sounds he makes, the way his body trembles—it all drives you to keep going.

After a few minutes, you feel him tensing again, his thighs tightening, his breathing becoming erratic. You know he’s close, his body teetering on the edge. You don’t let up, your head bobbing as you take him deeper, your tongue flicking over his most sensitive spots.

With a final, desperate moan, Spencer arches his back, his release hitting you in waves as he finishes in your mouth. You stay with him through it, savoring every reaction, until his body relaxes beneath you, spent and trembling. You pull away gently, wiping the corner of your mouth as you look up at him, his flushed face and half-lidded eyes the perfect reward for your efforts.

Spencer’s chest heaves as he struggles to catch his breath, his skin flushed and glistening with a light sheen of sweat. When you finally release him, his cock slipping from your mouth, he groans softly. “That was so fucking good,” he murmurs, his voice still thick and breathless.

You smirk, wiping the corner of your lips as you rise to your feet. “We’re not done yet,” you tease, shooting him a playful glance. His gaze follows you as you walk over to the bedside table, where you retrieve one of the plugs he picked out and the lube.

Returning to him, you squirt a generous amount of lube onto your fingers, warming it between them before gently pressing against his rim again. The sensation pulls a moan from him almost instantly, his body reacting to your touch.

“Relax for me,” you whisper, your tone both soothing and commanding. Spencer nods faintly, his muscles easing as you work your way back in. Sliding one finger inside, you feel him clench momentarily before softening again.

“Fuck,” he breathes, the word falling from his lips like a mantra, over and over, as though it’s the only thought he can cling to.

You add a second finger, twisting and scissoring them gently to stretch him further. His back arches off the bed, his head pressing into the pillow as he gasps, “Holy shit.” His voice trembles, and the moans that follow are softer now, more drawn out, as he lets the pleasure overtake him.

His body writhes under your touch, his breathing becoming shallow and erratic. You can tell he’s teetering close to the edge again, his cock twitching against his stomach. But you’re not ready for him to finish—not yet.

Adding a bit more lube, you withdraw your fingers and press the first plug against his entrance. Slowly, carefully, you ease it in, watching as his body adjusts. Spencer lets out a sharp gasp at the new sensation, his thighs trembling as his entire body tenses for a moment.

You pause, your free hand resting on his thigh in reassurance. “Breathe,” you murmur, waiting until his body softens again. When he finally relaxes, you ask, “How does that feel?”

His head tilts back as he nods, his voice barely audible. “Fuck yes, so so good,” he mumbles, though the words are almost lost in his shaky breaths.

You can’t help the swell of pride in your chest as you take in the sight of him—so open, so willing to trust you with this. He’s being incredibly brave, pushing himself beyond his comfort zone, and it’s not lost on you how vulnerable he must feel.

Leaning over, you press a soft kiss to his lips, your voice gentle and affectionate as you murmur, “Good boy.”

The effect is immediate. Spencer’s eyes snap to yours, and for a moment, you see something new flicker within them. There’s a softness there, a quiet, submissive energy that hadn’t been present before.

You smirk, your lips curving into a knowing smile as you whisper, “You like that, don’t you?”

He doesn’t answer with words, but the way his cheeks flush deeper and his eyes dart away shyly tells you everything you need to know. His vulnerability is achingly beautiful, and you make a silent vow to take care of him—to guide him through this new experience with all the care and tenderness he deserves.

You lean down and kiss him deeply, your lips brushing softly against his before pulling away just enough to see his face. Spencer looks up at you, his eyes wide and filled with anticipation. “What do I do?” he asks, his voice tinged with both curiosity and need, so vulnerable yet eager.

The sound of him like this—so needy, so open—is enough to make your breath hitch. “Just let me take care of you,” you whisper, running your fingers down his chest. The slight drag of your nails across his skin elicits a low, drawn-out moan from him, his body arching into your touch.

“Let me make you feel good,” you say softly, your hand gliding down to wrap around his cock. He’s already hard again, his arousal obvious in the way he throbs in your palm. Spencer’s cheeks flush pink, and he lets out another quiet moan as you stroke him slowly.

Your movements pause as you reach for the harness, slipping it on with practiced ease. The straps hug your hips snugly, and you adjust it to make sure it’s secure. The soft click of the buckles draws Spencer’s attention, and his breath hitches audibly when he sees you attach the dildo.

“What...what is that?” he stammers, his voice cracking slightly as his gaze flicks between the harness and your face.

“It’s a harness,” you say with a smile, stepping closer so he can see it better. Holding up the dildo, you let it catch the light as you grin down at him. “And this,” you purr, running your fingers along its length for effect, “is what I’m going to fuck you with.”

The way Spencer’s eyes darken with a mixture of nervousness and excitement is absolutely intoxicating. His lips part as though he wants to say something, but no words come out. Instead, he shifts slightly on the bed, his thighs pressing together in anticipation.

You grab the lube, squirting a generous amount onto the dildo and spreading it evenly. The slick sound fills the quiet room, heightening the tension as you glance up at him.

“Are you ready?” you ask, your voice low and steady, but the heat in your tone is unmistakable.

Spencer’s head tips back against the pillow, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. “Fuck yes, please, sweetheart” he breathes, his voice trembling with desire.

Positioning yourself behind him, you take a moment to admire him. His body is laid bare before you, his back arched slightly, his ass raised in perfect submission. The sight alone makes your pulse race, and you can’t help but let out a soft exhale.

You press the tip of the dildo against his entrance, moving slowly and deliberately. The resistance is brief before the head slips inside, and Spencer lets out a soft, shuddering moan. His muscles clench reflexively around you, his body so tight and warm that it takes everything in you not to rush.

“Breathe,” you remind him gently, your free hand stroking his lower back in reassurance. He takes a shaky inhale, the tension easing as you push in a little further.

His whimpers fill the room, soft and needy, the sound sending a jolt of heat straight through you. “Oh, God,” he whispers, his voice strained as his hands grip the sheets. The vulnerability in his tone makes your chest tighten with both affection and desire.

You move inch by inch, letting him adjust at his own pace. Each sound he makes—every gasp, every whispered curse—fuels you, and the way his body quivers beneath you is impossibly alluring.

When you’re fully seated inside him, you pause, leaning over to kiss the back of his neck. “You’re doing so well, Spence” you murmur against his skin, your voice soft but full of praise. His whole body shivers at your words, and you can feel him relax even further, melting into the moment.

You reach around Spencer and start to stroke his cock. He gasps when he feels you touch him again, you know he must be so over-sensitive by this point. “Holy fuck, that feels good,” he gasps. You can hear how close he’s getting. “Faster, please,” he begs. You oblige and start to go harder.

You can feel Spencer starting to tighten up around the dildo, you know he’s getting even closer. “Oh fuck,” he says loudly. You’re going as fast as you can, you know your thighs will be on fire tomorrow morning.

“Fuck me harder,” he gasps, you can hear the whine in his voice.

Spencer lets out a loud gasp, his body going even more tense. His cock twitches before shooting out into your palm, cum trickling down your hand as he arches into your touch subconsciously. Thrusting into him until you feel him go limp against you before gently pulling the dildo out, allowing him to collapse back onto the bed. His face is sweaty and his breathing is labored but you think he’s never looked more beautiful. You climb off him and lay beside him, giving him a kiss on the lips. “Such a pretty boy,” you praise, he smiles at you.

You lean up to kiss him again but he suddenly looks worried.

“Did I do good?” He asks. You can hear the fear in his voice and you look at him with soft eyes. “Of course you did,” you say, giving him another kiss. His eyes immediately relax and he smiles. “Did so well for me, honey,” you praise him, giving him soft kisses down his neck.

Spencer moans softly as you kiss him and you can tell that he’s enjoying the aftercare. “Thank you,” he says softly. “For what?” You ask. “For doing this with me,” he says. You look at him with softness and you smile.  “Anything for you,” you say.

You continue with the aftercare until Spencer is relaxed again. His eyes are closed and his breathing is normal again. You give him one last kiss before you climb out of bed to get cleaned up. As soon as you’re standing you feel a soft hand wrap around your thigh, you look down and see Spencer looking up at you with need in his eyes again.

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“Just to clean up,” you say, your voice gentle but practical as you shift to sit up.

But before you can move, Spencer’s hand lightly brushes against your arm. “Stay here with me,” he whispers, his tone so soft and pleading that it tugs at your heartstrings. “Please?”

There’s something about the way he says it—so vulnerable, so utterly sincere—that makes it impossible to refuse him. The faint curve of his lips and the tired, hopeful gleam in his eyes only add to his charm. He’s irresistible like this, a mix of sweet and earnest.

“Okay,” you murmur, a smile tugging at your lips as you settle back down beside him.

Spencer’s face lights up with a small, grateful smile before he shifts closer, snuggling into your side as if seeking comfort in your warmth. His lean frame molds perfectly against you, and the weight of him feels grounding, soothing.

Gently, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close and holding him securely. The soft scent of his shampoo mingles with the faintest trace of coffee still clinging to him, a reminder of the day you’ve shared.

“Thank you,” he breathes, his voice muffled as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. His hair tickles your skin, but the sensation is pleasant, comforting even.

You feel the tension in his body slowly melt away, his breathing evening out as he relaxes fully into your embrace. The moment feels tender, intimate—a quiet connection shared in the stillness of the room.

Before long, the soft rhythm of his snores fills the air. You hold him a little tighter, savouring the peacefulness of having him so close, and let yourself be lost in the simplicity of the moment.

[deancasforcutie]

#literally this is the thing!! #Dean has not explicitly said the words ''please stop leaving'' #but he has tried very hard through his actions to express that #AND!!!! CRUCIALLY!!! BECAUSE DEAN IS ACTUALLY A PRETTY GOOD VERBAL COMMUNICATOR!! #he has ALSO!!! verbally expressed his desire for Cas to stick around using OTHER words!!! #not as explicit as ''please stop leaving and stay with me'' but absolutely conveying the same sentiment #what the hell do you think ''we're stronger together'' and the whole ''cursed or not'' speech were about???? #like Cas needs it to be more clear than that to Get It bc he does not understand how his constant absence HURTS #but Dean does not want to BE more explicit than he already is #bc he feels like he's been VERY direct on the subject already #he literally told Cas he needs him. TWICE. and has prayed that he needs him there with them at least once that I can recall #Dean thinks he's been EXTREMELY explicitly clear already!!! #and that Cas is constantly leaving bc despite hearing Dean's tacit request to stay Cas is REFUSING that request and doesn't WANT to stay #he keeps asking and getting rebuffed WHY would he be louder and needier about it when he thinks all it's going to get him #is the emotional equivalent of a slap to the face? #in no universe is Dean going to ask for something louder when from his POV he's already been begging for it and being refused like???? #this is one of those cases where neither of them is actually doing anything wrong #Dean is communicating perfectly fine it's just Cas is autistic and missing some subtext #Cas isn't wrong for prioritizing his missions when he doesn't understand that Dean wants him there as much as he wants to be there #they're just talking past each other and a deeper conversation or two would fix this problem for them #they just don't realize that conversation is necessary #bc Dean thinks he's been heard and understood and Cas is politely declining his request for more time together #and Cas is unaware that that's something Dean has been asking for at varying volume levels for years #and instead bc of his trauma feels compelled to ''earn'' his place in the family with feats of strength so to speak #no one is at fault for their emotional needs not being met it's just a miscommunication #unfortunately the fandom focuses super hard on only one part of that equation and thus the takes on it are so often Bad™ #and ignore Cas's motivations and role as a complex actor with his own trauma and emotional issues and blind spots #anyway they're losers I adore them both <3 (via @ilarual)

on a realer note i do think people forget that a huge part of the destiel equation is that cas won’t stay. like yeah we focus a lot on the fact that dean won’t ask him to, but cas never sticking around is a huge factor there

[markrosewater]

hi Mark! i noticed in "#1202: Psychology" you didn't make any mention of the two aesthetic profiles Vorthos and Mel, and i was wondering whether any of the decisions being made specifically take them into consideration. like i ask this because one of the biggest changes to Magic this year (UB coming to standard) is something Vorthos care the most about but it seems like nothing has been done to directly address them as an audience

The aesthetic profiles aren't rooted in psychology like the psychographics, so that's why I didn't touch upon them in the psychology podcast. I'll probably do another aesthetics podcast one day (I did one as part of my "20 Lessons" series) and I'll talk about them there.

The concept of Vorthos, at its core, is about appreciating the creative elements of card design above all else. Many Vorthos adore Universes Beyond because we've done a very good job at capturing the various properties in Magic card design form.

But yes, there's a subgroup of Vorthoses that care specifically about Magic's creative world building, characters, and story. We're spending a lot of time and energy to make sure the products set in the Magic multiverse are doing a good job of representing it. 2024 had many successes (Bloomburrow, Duskmourn, and Foundations) in this area, but also some failures (Murders at Karlov Manor and Outlaws of Thunder Junction). The creative team is trying to learn from them and lean more towards the type of creative execution that make this group of Vorthoses happy.

As I've been saying a lot, Magic excels at being additive, but has issues with being subtractive. If you want cool Magic settings and characters and stories, we can and will continue to do that. If you want us to stop doing non-Magic settings, characters, and stories, I can't help you there. There's a big audience that enjoys that and so we're making it for them.

I do hear that there are players that are sad that non-Magic elements will mix in gameplay with Magic elements. There will be many limited formats, and a few constructed formats (like Cube or Premodern) where you can avoid that if it's important to you, but the number of players who will only play with in-Multiverse components is low enough that it's not something we're focusing on in the main sanctioned formats.

It's not that I'm not sympathetic. Go back ten years and I was one of you. I fought hard against non-Magic elements for many years. What finally swayed me was seeing how much I enjoyed it when a license that I truly loved got brought to Magic. There's something so exciting, so glee producing about combining two loves, that I became a convert. I want to make people as happy as I was made.

I know this isn't the answer you want to hear. I try to use this blog to be as honest with all of you as I can. Magic keeps changing and evolving because we try to do things that players will love, and there are a lot of players that truly love Universes Beyond.

That said, we're not abandoning in-Multiverse Magic. We're still making three sets a year (the standard for the majority of Magic's life), and we're truly taking to heart the lessons of 2024 (more worlds that are our carefully crafted take on the tropes and less just a place to show them off). Making the Magic multiverse the most compelling and exciting thing possible is still our goal, and there are a lot of people working really hard to continue to do that.

I think the future is bright for the Vorthoses, but I truly understand why some of you are sad with Universes Beyond coming to Standard.

[sitp-recs]

2024 Wrapped: Drarry & Rarepair

I think we all agree that 2024 was far from great in many aspects. For me, last year was full of ups and downs with some happy fulfilling moments, and some very sad, difficult, anxiety-inducing moments. I took a few breaks from fandom and barely read anything in the 2nd half of the year, but a tradition is a tradition so here’s my annual wrapped, even if a bit late :) this list comes full of gratitude for the fics that brought me joy during these not so joyful times. It is also a love letter to short form as I did not have the time and mental space to indulge long fic as I used to. Looking at it, I’m happy to see a nice mix of old faves and new authors whose work I’ve been binging as if there was no tomorrow. As usual, keep in mind that this selection is 100% subjective as it reflects my very own perverted needs personal tastes. I hope you enjoy these gems as much as I did, and I wish you a generous new year, full of kindness and hope ✨

Drarry:

the sun between us by @eleadore (E, 7k)

Draco Malfoy, an omega. It was laughable until he was right in front of you, smelling like he was one shaky step from tripping into a heat. 

you can find my detailed rambling about this fic here, which btw is the first single rec I wrote in over an year because I was so overexcited I had to scream about it somewhere. deliriously sensual and self-indulgent but also full of biting, unrelenting snark, this is a must read to those who are into the good old push and pull of enemies to lovers. and mindblowing hot a/b/o sex as a treat :D

Heart to Hearth by @jtimu (E, 7k)

It should perhaps not have been a surprise that the repairman on his front step came not with coveralls and a toolbox but instead with a sardonic stare and a raised eyebrow.

my favourite odd job fic of 2024! what a fantastic concept to have a capable, smooth Draco rocking the hell out of those coveralls and making Harry (and all of us) salivate. this fic is a masterclass in short form: compelling characters (I love this disaster Harry so much), delicious build up and perfect pacing making their attraction feel genuine and organic.

Long Haul by @wolfpants (E, 9k)

The last person Harry expects to run into on a long haul flight to New York City is Draco Malfoy.

there’s something magically wistful about second chances and maybe that’s why I instantly fell in love with this beautiful love letter to Drarry and to NYC. I adore the gentle tone, the easy flirting and evocative atmosphere. the airplane smut is superb and there’s enough backstory to get you invested in their past without overshadowing the infinite possibilities the present is opening up for them right there. a beauty!

Spoiled Little Brat by @fastbrother (T, 9k)

Harry won’t stoop to Malfoy’s level. Really, he won’t. (He will.)

the best professors fic you’ll read today, this one pulled me right back into Drarry after summer break. what a delight of a fic - silly, fun, charming, with a perfect Hogwarts atmosphere that got me sad for not being there. their chemistry is unreal, with incredible banter - then deliberate teasing - and so much sexual tension it made me weak at the knees. oh, make sure to check the phenomenal art by @appleslightning!

When the Flood Comes by @academicdisasterfic (E, 10k)

Nine years on from the war, Auror Potter is upholding the Ministry of Magic's rule of law. Senior legal counsel Draco Malfoy is challenging it. And absolutely nothing is as it seems.

lawyer Draco in a suit is always a favourite, combined with a politics plot? sign me up 👏🏻 this is a beautiful, clever, thought-provoking story with a great premise perfectly executed within 10k (but it feels much longer), captivating characters, relevant discussions, detailed world building and be still my heart, the amount of yearning! a gorgeous break up/make up that slowly unravels their past and delivers just the right amount of heartbreak with impressive economy of words.

Knot Your Average Coworkers by @thecouchsofa (E, 22k)

Or: Harry makes a bunch of unintentional knotting jokes while an increasingly baffled Draco is driven insane.

I’ve read this almost a year ago and still remember laughing in delight from beginning to end. what a fun ride! my heart is soft for this cheeky, oblivious Harry with his cringey flirty banter and obsession with Draco’s secret 😂 their dynamic is perfect, light and silly and so very sweet. this fic is hilarious but also incredibly sexy and full of hot intimacy. I’m impressed by how easily Tee blends humour, fluff and heat so organically!

Home series by @hoko-onchi-writes (E, 22k)

In which Harry grows up in darkness, falls in love, fucks up, learns some things, and falls in love again.

my first hoko fic is still my favourite, I got so emo over this one. can’t get enough of this sad, lost Harry navigating the growing pains of post-war life. he’s so young and vulnerable, my heart aches for him. I loved to watch him go from a desperate, co-dependent situationship with Charlie to a more mature and grounded relationship with Draco. touching and melancholy, this story stays with you for a while.

The Superfluous Man by peu_a_peu (E, 24k)

A child for Harry Potter is a miracle of magic. And it's the second act of Draco Malfoy's sorry little life.

another banger by the phenomenal peu, this is the perfect mix of amusing and touching with one of my all-time fave Dracos. the prose is incredible and engaging as per: vibrant, clever, full of personality and with a refreshing take on mpreg that got me kicking my feet in joy. the smooth, effortlessly funny dialogue is a masterpiece in itself, but ah! the sweetness :')

Fine-Fractured Halo by @rainjulyx (E, 29k)

For Harry, it all starts on July 31, 1999 and ends on July 31, 2019. Twenty years of longing, love, and pain in no particular order.

I don’t usually go for unhappy endings but something about this fic lured me in and I felt completely changed after reading it. brace yourself for a quiet, heart-wrenching look into Harry and Draco’s situationship over the span of 20 years of longing and waiting. love the melancholy vibe and the complexity of an unreliable narrative. this story opened a hole inside my chest and stayed with me for a long, long time.

Truth to Materials by @toomuchplor (E, 54k)

In which Harry learns to appreciate art and other pleasures of the flesh.

god knows how this fic is still so underrated because it’s easily on my top 3 of 2024: sexy, moving, thought-provoking, funny and so very romantic and entertaining. I wanna live inside this universe and learn everything about quirky artist Draco and cute smitten Harry getting all curious and hungry for him. their dynamics are captivating, light and fun until the tenderness hits you right in the face. vibrant world building, brilliant cast, perfect dialogue and decadent hot smut - this fic delivers absolutely everything and you need to go read it right now.

this heaven of mud by @garagepaperback (E, 92k)

winter, 2002: Draco Malfoy is absolutely fine, thank you very much. summer, 2008: Harry Potter is, er- well, not good exactly, but definitely better. Yeah. Better than before.

I've inhaled everything garage has written last year and it was hard to pick one for this list, but I knew it had to be this banger. fuck buddies my beloved! this is an immersive and satisfying ride and I love how their relationship slowly unfolds to the reader. seeing them so young and stupid was nostalgic, aching and bittersweet at once, but I wasn’t expecting to be so moved by the romance! a brilliant character study, full of tension and heart.

Rare Pairs:

o fiery sun by @onbeinganangel (E, 3k) - Theo/Harry

Is it actual solstice magic or is Theo Nott just suddenly, really, stupidly, impossibly hot?

I’ve been low-key into this ship thanks to NottPott Chronicles and Mari delivers everything I expected of a “reluctant case partners to fuck buddies” 🔥 what a premise! I’m so hot for Seer Theo who’s a teasing little shit driving Harry up the wall lol their chemistry is explosive, dripping with sexual tension and the promise of more. Drarry fans need to check this asap!

One Night in Hogsmeade by @lqtraintracks (E, 4k) - Prongsfoot

While there are hearts in this world James hasn’t minded breaking, Sirius’s has never been one of them.

trust LQT to ruin me with this ship, which I so carefully avoid hoping to dodge the devastation. but it only takes James and Sirius sharing one brain cell and being all hot and wanton for each other and here I am, dead and buried. this has LQT's trademark of insanely hot smut dripping with angsty feels. the characters are so dear and full of heart, and I can’t handle the amount of desire, trust and fond familiarity they share.

Nightswimming by @sweet-s0rr0w (M, 5k) - Dronarry

Weasley flicks the light on. “I got off with a guy once, you know,” he says, casually, holding the torch up between his gloved fingers.

my favorite Dronarry of the year, this fic was such a unique experience! a masterclass in short form, as per sweet’s usual. such a delicious and expertly crafted foreplay, the mounting tension swallowed me whole and left me at the edge of my seat yearning for more. I need this flirty Ron in my bed life, jfc. the car sequence is one of the best executed scenes I’ve ever read, with such a distinct, sexy dream-like atmosphere. instant classic!

Three's a Crowd (But Four is a Party) by @kbrick (E, 7k) - Harry/Draco/Pansy/Blaise, endgame Drarry

Pansy and Draco have been together for ages. Kind of. They don't sleep together any more, but they do sleep with men together. It's complicated.

also known as the pwp that made me tear up with feels for Pansy & Draco, this is a beautiful and moving love letter to their friendship. I love the layers behind their co-dependency, it’s a really nuanced dynamic while also being a deliciously and self-indulgent poly smutty treat. the sex sequence is smoking hot and a feast for the eyes, with such sweet Drarry chemistry! beautiful and immensely satisfying from beginning to end.

Wield Me by @tackytigerfic (E, 10k) - Drarry + Teddy

A little story about learning to strike while the iron is hot.

I’ve already poured my heart out about this fic on a dedicated rec post but suffice to say this is the tenderest, most creative short I’ve read last year. the rich and detailed world building is absolutely jaw dropping, and all characters are so lovable and fascinating. I’m obsessed with pining blacksmith Draco, and very impressed by how Tacky successfully includes my beloved Teddy in the equation while keeping this a legit (and very much romantic!) Drarry love story. so smooth, so moving. witchcraft

Permanent by @citrusses (M, 13k) - Dron, Drarry

"Harry's always been fixated on older men. Have you ever noticed that, Ron?” Granger asks.

the gasp of utter delight I let out with every citrus fic this year! brilliant time travel concept perfectly executed, I’m still in awe of how much story and character development citrus was able to convey under 15k. sexy, intriguing, slightly melancholy with a clever twist and a hopeful open ending that took the story to another level and made me shake in satisfaction. easily on my top 3 works from last year’s Dronarry Fest!

Dick Chicken by @oknowkiss (E, 15k) - Dronarry

This is a story about nothing.

yep, this is the Seinfeld AU I didn’t know I needed! this fic is so incredibly funny, original and engaging - a brilliant homage to the show’s silly, chaotic ecosystem and cleverly adapted to incorporate elements from the HP universe. I just couldn’t decide between laughing my ass off at the unique brand of humor, falling in love with this sweet Harry or getting all hot and bothered for the Dronarry sexual tension omg

Worth a Thousand Words by @fluxweeed (E, 18k) - Dron

TIL wizards in Britain can avoid ward duty on the grounds of homosexuality. To avoid any false applications, wizards applying for this exemption must provide multiple pictures of themselves receiving anal intercourse with a clearly visible face.

a recent Dron fave, this sexy af and delightful fic translates the ship's essence perfectly: hilarious, scorching hot and a bit unhinged. the absurd premise serves the hottest and most entertaining "fuck first, talk later" trope with the right amount of sass, horny and sweet pining. I love Ron's voice here, curious and indulging and absolutely oblivious but still up for the ride. and Draco’s so hot for him, gosh the smut is so delicious. big bonus points for these AMAZING Harry and Hermione!

periculum by @the-invisibility-bloke (E, 25k) - Sirry

Harry needs someone to take control. Or maybe he just needs Sirius.

the fic that introduced me to El’s writing - my new age gap champion - had me on the floor just a few paragraphs in. this masterpiece covers everything that make this ship deliciously dirtybadwrong: Harry’s sweet longing, Sirius’s spiraling want and guilt clashing with the desire to give Harry everything he wants, the constant grasp for some control while toeing the line that gets blurred, then completely obliterated. exquisite build up and scorching sex scenes, so heated and satisfying!

INCENDIO by swoons (E, 42k) - Albus/James

Albus is just looking for something to get his mind off his brother. When Lily suggests he try INCENDIO, a popular dating app, he has no idea what fate — or the algorithm — has in store for him.

this was actually written in 2023 but I’m making an exception because wow, what a delightful Pottercest fic! this reawakened all my feelings for this ship. great pacing and the right amount of tension, pining, plus the BEST innuendos and poor sex jokes you’ll read today. Al and James have such distinct, charming voices and a deliciously sassy chemistry, plus matchmaker Lily stole the scene, I so enjoyed their dynamics. instant favorite!

[corviiids]

hello thank you for asking i am very flattered. i would be most honoured to give some advice that i am most certainly unqualified to give!!

ok advice 1: hey why does everyone keep telling me to read and write a lot

i think this is the most commonly given advice. i have always found it true but incomplete, because on the face of it this kind of focuses a little too much on volume. which by itself just isn't going to do that much for you, or it will, but it'll do it very slowly and ineffectively, because the second part of this advice i don't see nearly as much (and the part that makes it work for me) is that after you read or write something you need to do The Why Interrogation. what are you looking for?

when you like something, why do you like it? not just in terms of copying and learning an author's stylistic quirks or techniques, but in a more abstract way:

is it the narrative? that the premise is novel, that the progression of the story is unexpected and thrilling, that the stakes are high?

is it the characters? what is it about them? do they have compelling backgrounds? does the author spend a lot of time in their heads? is the pov internal in a way that lets you experience the story from their shoes? does their biased narration tell you more about them? or is it a detached narration that lets you see the characters in a way they don't see themselves, so the gap is intriguing?

is it the telling? maybe the prose is beautiful - what makes it so? sentence structure? unconventional use of grammar and punctuation? elegant, sophisticated vocabulary? or maybe the dialogue is sharp and human so conversation flows naturally. is the story paced carefully? does the author linger more in certain moments?

the same exercise is useful for what ISN'T working.

if your attention is drifting, what's making it drift?

purple prose? clumsy prose?

does the narration drag?

do the characters feel stagnant, and why?

plot doesn't make any sense?

maybe this sounds obvious, but imo it's a crucial piece of the advice that i just don't see as much because people tend to focus on volume of works consumed/created. the reflection and analysis is what makes that volume useful, otherwise you're just churning through content. the question should always be why, why, why. why did that work, why didn't it work, why did i like this, why does it suck. then proceed to: if i were doing this, how could i make it work?

advice 2: don't forget that all the words you need already exist.

this is more subjective advice. this is something that works for me personally. so ymmv. have you ever tried magnet poetry? you should try magnet poetry.

i always see writing as kind of a puzzle. if i have an idea in my head, the idea exists. the job is actually a translation exercise: how do i express the thing in my head as a thing other people can see? in this way it's like visual art, but it's also not like visual art at all. in visual art you choose where all the lines and colours go, completely freely. any line you draw is a brand new line.

in language, all your parts already exist. all the words already exist. (you can make new ones if you want but that's a whole different thing.) you are plucking symbols out of a collective understanding. it is like lego. all you are doing is selecting the most effective pieces and placing them in order. so for me, i am simply trying to find the 'right' words to fit each context as best as possible. it becomes a game of arrangement, which determines your expression.

then syntax and punctuation become your rhythm, which is how you determine flow. sentence length, word length, whether you omit words or use more, whether you want to be a bit unconventional. character also plays into this - i am not writing an advice 3 because i am getting self conscious but advice 3 would have been consistency of voice.

so i would prioritise vocabulary and timing. what are you trying to say (which words do you pick) and how do you want the reader to experience your words, how do you want the words to feel and sound (how will you pace your sentences)? remembering that all the parts are already there. it is the world's biggest game of magnet poetry.

advice 3 which doesn't exist: keep your voice consistent.

this advice doesn't exist. im not writing this i got embarrassed and stopped at 2. but if i did write this it would say, remember who you are. (remember who is writing your story. are you a character or are you god? remember how much you know. remember which feelings you have access to.)

[utilitycaster]

something that struck me from some of the really good tags on this post (specifically the "tall kings") one is that most arguments against the gods or for the benefit of Predathos rely on real-world metaphors that just...don't really fit very well, and it might just be that this isn't something for which one can draw a real world metaphor, but might actually have to conceive a world that is fundamentally different than ours. The gods aren't tall kings; "destroying the throne" does not mean a coup. It means their deaths; and yes, to state the obvious a coup against a monarchy frequently involves assassinating the monarch, but it's telling that the language is carefully skirting around that. You cannot destroy the throne or remove the crown or have the gods step down in any peaceful manner; both the Matron and Arch Heart agree this only happens if the threat of Predathos is unleashed.

And Predathos. Setting aside the connotations of assigning the idea of wild deer to sentient beings, the "reintroduction of the natural predator" metaphor collapses on several points. The first is that equating "became deities, who, as the post linked above points out and per general lore, are explicitly not able to run rampant anymore". The second is that Predathos is not a wolf that once lived on Exandria but is just as foreign to the world as the gods themselves. While I reject the metaphor entirely for the initial reasons stated, it is worth keeping in mind that if you do need it as a scaffolding on which to hang foreign concepts, Predathos is less the wolf population and more a family of tigers or cheetahs: just as much an invasive species, with an impact on the environment

I think these are two major issues that need to be addressed in any conversation:

Predathos has been adopted and mythologized by several party members who are actually much more concerned about the titans, who are dead. Killing the gods will not bring back the titans. I feel this metaphor is sort of falling into that same trap; this is not a return of something native to this world.

On some level, while I understand the use of real-world metaphors to comprehend a fantasy world from a lens of familiarity - I do this as well! - I think if we cannot have a discussion that starts with "what if Predathos is in fact the embodiment of a cosmic, unending, merciless hunger that cannot be changed and cannot be swayed and can only be sealed, killed, or given free rein" we cannot have a discussion at all. I think it's necessary to acknowledge we're talking about a game that gives you a space to explore an idea as if it were physical, and which might not be able to be told within the bounds of real-world experience.

This of course also doesn't address the ongoing issue of "whether or not Bells Hells actions towards Predathos and the outcome ends up being in the moral right, the road to get here was structurally unsound and the party did not go in with the intent of doing anything specific whatsoever and indeed faltered for the most part when asked by the main villain what they wanted." Again, I don't care if Bells Hells are heroes or villains or something in between, but they don't seem to be anything or have any shared intention as a group, which I've discussed already here. But if you do want to argue that releasing Predathos could be good, I think it's necessary to have a coherent argument there, and be able to address "what if it's really fucking bad" if we're moving into the realm of the speculative. "What if this change that comes at the end of mass death might be better for the world but I have no proof" is not a very convincing argument. It is, in fact, one of the only ones Bells Hells has made a compelling case against.

[lovebunnie]

Viktor did not know the first time he wanted to kiss Jayce.

It was hard to keep track of all the moments because of just how many there were. Jayce was a very easy person to want to kiss, with his handsome looks and incredible mind, paired with a strong work ethic and kind heart. Viktor suspected almost everyone Jayce met in his life had wanted to kiss him atleast once.

Jayce did not seem too interested in this fact, based on the amount of time he spent in the lab right next to Viktor. Their partnership did not allow for many relationships outside of a scientific purpose; it just so happened that Viktor really liked Jayce not only as a partner but also in general, just as a person.

So really, there were far too many times to count where he felt compelled to grasp his face in his hands and press their lips together. Some nights, Viktor would imagine Jayce running into the lab with great news of a secured deal or more grant money and just plant one right on his lips without thinking, before dashing to his desk while still chirping and leaving Viktor gasping.

He thought of a scenario where he found himself in the forge one night, just the two of them in the entire building, and like something out of a trashy novel, a shirtless and sweaty Jayce would pull him in by his hips and kiss him slowly and sensually before the rest of the daydream turned into something... else.

Once Viktor and Jayce were in the midst of a heated argument about how to conduct an experiment with or without proper precautions in place, and Jayce stood up and walked towards Viktor. He thought in that moment that Jayce was going to find a less conventional way of shutting him up and before he could articulate if that would've worked or pissed him off even further, Jayce had walked out the door. The next day he came back with an apology and they moved on stronger than before.

Viktor was almost embarrassed by how badly he wanted to kiss Jayce. He thought of how much he wanted to know just how Jayce would kiss, he wanted to see that side of Jayce and keep it all to himself. Viktor had Jayce in the lab but he wanted more.

When it happened, VIktor and Jayce were on long night number six. Days had passed since either of them had left the lab longer than it took to take a shower and brush their teeth. They could feel the edges of discovery brushing their fingertips, so close to a revelation.

"Only Piltovians would get bored of the ability for humans to fly," Viktor murmured as he adjusted a screw on the bottom of their anti-gravity contraption. "Why they needed something portable is beyond me."

"Now is kind of a bad time to start complaining, V," Jayce replied as he worked on finalizing the welding components. "This is going to work this time, it has to work-"

"It will work," Viktor emphasized. "And if it doesn't, we try again."

"If it doesn't I'm cracking open that bottle of wine I know you keep-"

Suddenly, the room was flooded with vibrant blue that had the both of them scrambling backwards. While before, the hexcrystals made the entire room weightless, now everything remained as it was with only Viktor's wrench floating in the middle, suspended in mid air. It was flying. It worked.

Jayce picked himself off the ground where he has fallen back and pushed his goggle up to his forehead. "Holy shit, V, it worked!"

Viktor removed his goggles as well, mesmerized by the suspension of an object isolated within their own chamber. The blue of the hexcrystal had died down and left the room in a cool glow, and Viktor felt a smile tug at his lips. "This is.. incredible."

"Oh my god, it actually finally worked. I need to write down everything we did, what kind of screws did you use? What is the temperature of the room, what runes did we use?"

As Jayce rambled on, Viktor stood up and took in his frantic energy. His hands were moving quickly and his eyes were searching for his notebook while he paced the room like he couldn't sit down. His hair was disheveled from the times he ran his hand through it in frustration and his eye bags were getting more and more pronounced. His face was leaner and exhaustion draped over him like a blanket. Objectively, Jayce looked kind of like shit.

Viktor felt a spark in his chest, he couldn't look away.

When Jayce made his way back in front of Viktor, he smiled warmly. "This is such a huge relief, I was really starting to get concerned that we were going to have to completely start over, but now we can start with trials and-"

As Jayce spoke, the spark grew and grew until Viktor could ignore it no longer. He pulled Jayce down mid sentence and pressed his lips to his, locking them together.

Viktor's hands cradled the sides of Jayce's face, keeping him in place while Viktor pressed his lips harder and tilted his head ever so slightly. It felt right, for the first time in a long time. Viktor was used to not feeling included but in this moment it felt like it was meant to happen. Their kiss was always going to happen in the wake of discovery, how could it not?

A few seconds passed before Viktor gently pushed Jayce back, their breaths shared in the close space. Jayce was silent, and Viktor began to quietly worry that maybe Jayce did not feel like this moment was perfect to him. The thought devastated him; there would be nothing crueler than losing Jayce as a friend.

Viktor took a step back as he looked away. "I'll get started on those trials, we can start with the screws to see if-"

In that moment, Jayce reached out and pulled Viktor back towards him, connecting their lips again in a kiss. One hand made its way to the nape of Viktor's neck while the other held his jaw gently. This second kiss was dynamic and Viktor found himself getting lost in the motions. In all the day dreams he had, he never thought to imagine that Jayce would want to kiss him back this badly, this fervent need to claim his mouth. Their partnership truly knew no bounds.

Before things could get more heated, they broke apart once more and Jayce pressed his forehead to Viktor's with a gentle laugh. "I've been wanting to do that for so long."

"What a coincidence," Viktor purred as he tugged Jayce in again. "So have I."

[kittyit]

one of the very offputting and indigestible things about a lot of modern media is the pivot to the quality being the same experience as reading fanfiction. I've only read a little fanfiction in my life, and of course, there are always stand outs in fan works. But I feel everyone can know what I mean when I say it's like reading fanfiction. And I feel like it's a spectrum. For example, right now I'm rereading Hench, and I would say there is a distinctly fanfiction flavor to the work, in that I can tell the author has read a lot of fanfiction, I can clearly guess at some of their favorite tags and tropes, the taste of fanfiction is in my mouth. However, the work itself is compelling enough, the characters flushed out an interesting enough, and the story inviting enough that I am able to bear it with grace. This is like the middle of the spectrum. The far end of the spectrum is when reading a book is exactly like reading a fanfiction (term for this? If the other is flavor...) It's all trope. it's cheap and unearned. It's shallow. It's enjoyable mostly to people who read a lot of fanfiction because it does exactly the same thing. Fanfiction flavored is sometimes tolerable to me, but I resent it, especially when the tropes are paraphilias and fetishes in disguise, but not only then. It's distasteful. And more and more new books and TV series and movies are further and further on the spectrum of how much like fanfiction they feel, how clearly they are made by creators who grew up in fandom, "living and breathing fandom". And because fanfiction-adjacent creations are stripped down to the most appealing and easily accessible plot points and paths, characters & emotions for a fandom-steeped or fandom-ready (innocent) audience, they sell well, they test well with test audiences, they make money. I just routinely see the idea that fandom is basically a free space, it's not hurting anyone everyone's having fun, why do we need to be critical of this? And it's like well it's profoundly transforming the entertainment industry, which profoundly transforms what media people grow up on which is certainly something worth thinking about. And media literacy is a term that's now reached internet driven semantic satiation and become a meme. Instead of something that is important to moving through the world and a practice you can develop your entire life. And I hate how defensive everyone gets about this. I have no power to take away your fandom. I just want think critically and deeply about this like any other social phenomenon.

[kcrabb88]

I was reading this fascinating longform article in the New Yorker about a current lawsuit going on in the Romantasy world and what constitutes a trope that can't be stolen vs. an original idea when a lot of the books in the genre end up being derivative, but what was most interesting were the bits about writers in the genre hardly being able to have their own cohesive idea for a book so much as editors and agents suggesting what they should write and not letting them finish a draft before sending revision notes and making changes. This kind of stuff is getting to be a major problem in trad publishing (and romance indie publishing has it's own issues with forcing writers to churn out books fast fast fast to stay relevant while sticking to a certain set of tropes, and arguably it isn't limited to romance). As a friend put it to me today, "the market controls writers now instead of the other way around."

Reading that article made me think of the Fansplaining article that came out a couple of weeks ago that talked a lot about more and more people reading fic but fic writers not really being able to see the fruits of that as much (because less engagement). It also talked about how a lot of "normie" types came into fandom during the height of the Covid years and they definitely have a different attitude toward fanwork than people who are in fandom generally. Which, true! I think fandoms, especially big popular ones have these kind of a sort of ... break and bake cookies concept of how you interact in fandom. There are pre-made silos where you ship certain characters and adopt certain fanon without coming to your own ideas naturally (and sometimes that fanon is VERY aggressive). Fic writers may feel a similar pressure to write what will be popular and trendy in fandom rather than what they might LIKE to write. They might feel they have to adopt certain popular fanon so people don't get mad. So, I dunno! Seems like the same problem in two not-unrelated spaces.

Not that we need to go back to the whole writers are suffering, tormented geniuses thing, but I do feel like writers of any stripe should be able to write something because they find it compelling and interesting rather than being pressured to, or feeling like they must, chase trends. You're going to get better writing that way! And readers will be happier for it, too.

[lol-jackles]

Hello,

It’s nice to see you more active on here at the moment.

I was thinking about how you tend to say that the bi-bros who lean towards Sam are more in line with the GA.

But, I watch lots of reactors watch SPN for the first time, and they often lean towards Dean (I’d say 3/5), and I’ve heard a similar ratio say that they think Jensen is a noticeably better actor than Jared.

So, my questions are, are they letting fan expectations colour their reactions (hellers and Dean girls are very fast to pounce on new reactors), are they already Destiel curious from seeing edits in tumblr (I know of at least one who fits this), or do they acquaint “they make me feel emotional therefore they are the best actor”?

For me personally, on my first watch, Dean killed me with his love for family and Sammy and I empathized more with him usually, at least until Season 4/5 where he started pissing me off regularly. But, when I rewatch, I love episodes like Mystery Spot and Born Under a Bad Sign, or Souless Sam episodes because Jared is just so good when he gets something interesting to do. I find the Dean crying stuff less compelling on rewatches because it’s not as interesting to me (with a few expectations) after the first and second viewing. And acting at mirrors scenes gets old for me in particular very quickly.

In short, I think both are good, with different strengths, but I wonder why so many new viewers that I come across see Jensen as being stronger and Dean as being better. Do the just fail to see past the narrative bias? Or they just like Sean because he’s more fun?

Anyway, I appreciate any thoughts you want to share on this. And I’m also wondering if there is stats anywhere in GA favoring Sam?

First, because Sam girls commit “geek social fallacies” by also liking Dean because they love that Dean revolves around their Sammy. But Dean/Jensen stans don’t return the favor because they hate that Dean revolves around his Sammy so they hate on Sammy even though under their breath they’ve said if Jensen had been playing Sammy all along they wouldn’t change any of the writing.  That’s why there appears to be a Dean bias in the SPN fandom because Sam fans also likes Dean.  

It’s not a coincidence that Sam girls are the fandom’s official representative (all the meta fans on the show are Sam fans).   The show is mostly Sam-centric, if the bitter Sam girls won’t believe me then believe Jensen’s interviews when he said that SPN is Sam-centric and called season 10 a "rare Dean-centric storyline". (X)

Second, Dean is supposed to be a scene stealer, that's what support-protagonist do.  Often our favorite characters are not the protagonist but these scene stealers characters, they are usually cool or very funny. But it becomes a problem when producers try to capitalize on the character’s popularity, like creating a spin-off.   Like spices, which can not take the place of the main course, scene stealers often fail as leads because their “special-ness” evaporates when they have to carry the show. It's why WB canceled Supernatural when Jared told them he was leaving, because they knew a Dean-led Supernatural wouldn't work.

So while I'm watching an episode, I am more drawn to Dean because he’s more fun or interesting to watch. However the next day I remember the episode through Sam’s actions and interactions. Some of my readers tell me that they were surprised that they seem to “forget” Dean when they recall specific storylines, I said that’s supposed to happen with the support-protagonist.  We don't remember much of what John Watson did in the classic Sherlock Holmes or what was Nick Carraway's deal in The Great Gatsby.

It's the protagonist who mobilizes the story and stands out in readers’ or audiences’ minds.  Dean needs interaction with Sam in order for the audience to even remember him because he's part of the protagonist’s story. It’s why I keep saying Supernatural is Sam’s story, it's his Hero’s Journey.   Dean is at his best when he’s focused on Sam (which is why season 10 sucked and season 5 was kind of weak).

Third, Jensen is a personality actor and people are generally more drawn to them. Jared is a character actor who is trapped in a leading man role. Jensen has been Jensen “Dean Winchester” Ackles for the majority of his TV and movie roles since 1998.  It’s why Jensen initially made a bigger splash with Dean in the early Supernatural seasons because he’s already been playing Dean for years since Days of Our Lives.  In 2005 when SPN premiered, Jensen had a 7 years head start playing Dean compared to Jared who was just starting to play Sam and had to create Sam from scratch.  By season 3, audiences began to notice Jared's versatile acting skills and he would soon be tasked with playing different characters because that's what character actors do.

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Our Youth: The Responsibility of Adaptation

I regret to inform you all that I dropped Our Youth a few weeks back. Which is tragic because I was so enamored with it at the beginning that I literally went and searched up the manwha and devoured it all in one sitting.

Now, I can definitively say that I do think the first part of both the manwha and the show is the strongest. BUT I want to talk about the two changes I saw in the first half that I do think negatively impacted how the College Years landed. (Forgive me if I get some of the details slight off I'm too lazy to go back to the manwha and check).

For the sake of expediency, I am going to keep the names from the jbl even when talking about the manwha, but please know that Minase and Haruki have different names in the Korean graphic novel.

I. The Big Change that Had a Big Impact

First, I want to talk about the events that get Haruki suspended/expelled from school.

The Show: The bullies Haruki hangs around in school rob a store, Haruki confronts them, Haruki gets in trouble with the school, Haruki...takes the blame for some unknown reason?

The Manwha: The bullies Haruki hangs around bullies a student so severely over the course of the school year that the student attempts suicide. Haruki has never directly partaken in the bullying (keeping with the categories Minase breaks people down in to) but he is a bystander. And when he hears about this student's suicide attempt he realizes that he really should not just be letting the bullies get away with shit like that. He confronts the bully, calls him out on it, and in front of the entire class and as the teacher walks in that fucking piece of shit kid cries and wails and cowers in fear of Haruki making it look like Haruki is not only threatening him but is also the main perpetrator of the bullying that pushed a child to attempt suicide.

In my opinion, there is a huge difference in the stakes and the consequences here, and I think the way the show played it out not only lowers the stakes but detracts from the messaging around the perception of kids like Haruki. The bully in the manwha weaponized the fact that all the teachers see Haruki as a violent delinquent because he...checks notes: choked a teacher who was sexually harassing a student and threatened him to prevent it from happening again and the fact that Haruki is technically culpable because he watched it happen and never stepped in, in order to take the heat off himself and avoid getting in trouble.

In the show Haruki just immediately backtracks on his fight with the bully at the pool hall and takes the fall, suffering the consequences for something he very much didn't do. Haruki's suspension does not induce the kind of rage it would have if they had gone with the manwha version, and Haruki's pulling back from Minase also would make far more sense in the context of Haruki's reaction to finding out about the student's attempt and the part he played in it.

II. The Small Change that Had a Big Impact

Now, I admit I am often guilty of finding a lot of small moments in media to often be what sticks with me, and I can get annoyed when I see an adaptation that might strip away my favorite little moments, or favorite little lines (RIP "call me child one more goddamn time" from Critical Role, you will always be famous to me)

But in this case I do feel it is fair of me to say that making this specific tweak to the story should have caused a hell of a lot of edits to the second half of the story in order to make it compelling. What would that be?

The Show: Minase's father makes a queer indie film. Minase and Haruki attend the film together, there is a happy ending, and Minase finds a label that speaks to his feelings for Haruki.

The Manwha: Minase's father makes a queer indie film. Miase and Haruki attend the film together, there is a sad ending and Minase does not find a label that speaks to his feelings for Haruki. In college, Minase learns that his tutor is gay and has a partner and is happy with his life and this is where he starts to parse through his feelings for Haruki and adopt a label/definition of his queerness.

Small tweak, huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuge difference in vibe and in justification for what comes next. In the manwha Haruki and Minase do not see each other for six years because of a phone mishap where one of them had their phone turned off for months in order to focus on studying, and the other got a new phone number or something thus they did not really see or hear from each other. They have an accidental run in in college and they restart their relationship but it still takes them some time.

I dropped the show before I got to the college years so I do not know what if anything happened there, but I do think that when you actually did nothing wrong to warrant getting suspended from school, you know where each other's houses are, you know what your feelings actually are, and your external experiences with queerness are generally happy it is extremely difficult to make being separated for six years feel compelling or believable.

I think it is a little bit more believable when you have a character who is actually culpable in the bullying that led to a suicide attempt, your supposed "school friends" who you kinda have always hated tries to make himself the victim, you don't have a label/definition to put your feelings to, and your only external experiences with queerness are sad and tragic that you might do what Haruki did and assume that Minase also started seeing you negatively and no longer cared for you.

Anyway, I don't think I have a solid conclusion to this post beyond I think if the writers were interested in lightening the mood around the school situation and giving the boys a happy queer ending in high school so they could feel comfortable with their feelings, that's totally fine, but then I think they needed to make some tweaks to the back half to justify those decisions a bit better, at least based off of what I have seen and heard about the way the back half played out.

[jack-kellys]

so we all know life is a circle. thus fandom is a circle. we see things come back around like the de/twinkification of racetrack higgins. or cowboy versus artist jack kelly. or "mom" friend david jacobs and the perpetual need to make the newsies some kind of heteronormative family. and yet again we've found our way back to the anti katherine pulitzer arc of her "getting in the way" of jack and davey's popular subtextual/fanon relationship. (yes im late nevermind that.)

now, not being a katherine fan is different than being anti-katherine. not being a katherine fan means you might have criticisms like "i'm not sure how she serves the newsies narrative better than, say, sarah jacobs, as sarah is more aligned with the newsies contextually/societally and katherine is very distant and rich lol", or even "i'm not a big fan of how katherine seems to be tired of jack's shit for most of the play and then 'suddenly' finds romantic interest in him within one song".

but being anti-singular-young-woman-character because of a ship between the main two boys is. a tired take is it not? again with the circle, we've had this discourse already and its been cut out. since 2012 and 2017 we been talking about this girl and her value, but not in the context we should be.

(because the context we should be talking about it in is a newsies 1992 versus newsies broadway context, not an anti-katherine context, but i digress.)

katherine's value. what is there to mine from? she is an extremely young woman reporter, 17-18 years old, whose article makes the front page of the new york sun. since she writes under a pseudonym, i'm presuming she writes with skill well above her age to be published at all (yes, even writing vaudeville reviews). in past productions she either finds the newsies at jacobi's because she saw the walk-out (TWWK) from inside The World (UK), or jack kelly simply interests her enough for her to seek him out again (Broadway/Tour/Live). she is unsure about herself as a writer despite her skill which is made clear in her song. she is rich. she did not need to have a career and was encouraged not to. pulitzer is her father and she does not get along with him. she matches jack word for word, often with davey at her side. she mills comfortably about the newsies through the second act and has a friendship of some kind with specs specifically. she also literally says "that's a face [jack's] that could save us all from sinking in the ocean/like someone said 'power tends to corrupt'" essentially prophesying the act 2 betrayal. which is crazy.

you can draw your own conclusions from the above, but all of it is essentially canon? right? so maybe you don't have to be a fan of all of it, but you're really going to tell me absolutely none of this is compelling. that none of this is something you can interpret for yourself as complex. that albert is more complex.

this is not me saying you have to include katherine in everything, because that isn't what this post is about. this is about individuals choosing to dislike or devalue katherine by only viewing her in relation to her as a romantic interest, instead of a complex character in a period piece with a full arc. yes a full arc. it's the musical that's rushed not katherine.

@we-are-inevitable speaks on this extremely well in the comments of this post as well, more in connection to katherine as being a compelling romantic interest in the context of newsies speaking in the defense of love interests/often women characters. in this post i speak on how i would navigate jack/katherine as a director, and in this post i speak on how to direct something to believe in to make it, well, believable, aside from its awful writing for both kath and jack. because again, fandom is a circle, and i literally talked about how to "fix" jatherine in august 2024. at length

[hannahssimblr]

Hours gone and hours to go, staring out the window at vague green mountains, rainforest, a bleeding scene behind wet glass as the rains go on, drenching the southern arm of Thailand. The train rumbles and the beds in our sleeper cabin squeak. I’ve slept already, for an hour, maybe two with a t-shirt over my face to block the light, while Jonas, pale and silent across from me stares blankly out the window picking at his fingernails, blood vessels burst in his eyes from being sick. Forty minutes in the train bathroom while a queue formed outside, and he’s too hungover to be embarrassed. 

The train to Surat Thani was his idea, and seemed like a great one back in Berlin, looking at pictures of the scenery, the idyllic image of an orange train snaking through jungle. Nine hours seemed reasonable until this morning, when I awoke to him packing his bags, the smell of alcohol seeping from his pores. Trembling and ill. 

“How was last night?” I said. “Must’ve gone well if you slept over.”

“I hate myself,” he replied, and that’s all. Within thirty minutes, we had checked out and boarded the train. 

He hasn’t spoken in about six hours, but in fairness, four he spent sleeping, snoring peacefully in his bunk while I’ve read my book, snacked, perused my phone.

I look again at the message from Astrid I woke up to. 

Here you go.

She’s said, followed by pictures of her in that green dress, front and back in her apartment mirror. She looks stunning like that, her hair a little messy, makeup smudged from an evening in the city, wine drunk too, probably. I can tell by that glazed look on her face. 

The second picture, then, captioned:

Or do you prefer me without?

And she’s naked, laying back, the high points of her sensual body rising out of fizzy pink water. Some kind of bath bomb situation, evidently. This is what I wanted, and it’s extraordinarily erotic, but looking at it in the cold light of day in a train cabin that smells of two unwashed men and the dinner plates the buffet service hasn’t collected yet, the effect is not quite as intended. 

Tbh only thing missing is me in there with my–

I pause and check the world clock app. 9:15AM in Berlin. I go back and delete what I wrote. Bit weird now, considering it’s her morning, and she’s definitely not in the bath still. 

I look at the picture some more anyway, zooming in on different parts, like her collarbone, poking out like that with the angle she holds her neck, the same with her hip, a white peak jutting out of the water. My rapt interest in anatomy, driven by the pressure I feel to enjoy her a suitable amount. 

Men like my grandfather would have gone their whole lives without seeing a woman like this. Maybe once, if they were lucky, and they’d keep a picture of her in their breast pocket or paint her on the side of a bomber jet and go to war. And in the 15th century, you’d carve exquisite statues of bodies like this. Paint masterpieces, and you’d turn her into some ethereal goddess with angels flying all around her, spend years working on a portrait in an attempt to communicate your feelings with a brush and oils, marble and chisels. Driven half mad by her. Compelled to preserve her beauty for eternity. 

Here I am, looking at Astrid on my phone. A body worthy of museums, her frame, not gilded, but a clear silicone phone cover that has been yellowing progressively with use. I’m aware I don’t deserve to be looking at this. The best I can do is turn my screen away from the window so Jonas cannot see her too.

Sorry, was asleep lol. Looking hot af tho! 🥵

At the end of my message I add the red faced, profusely sweating emoji with its tongue out to really drive the point home, and send it, half hoping it won’t deliver. It does. 

Back out to the conversations page to the chat with Evie. Something to stare at and feel bad about. Thinking about you. Why did I write that? Divine intervention that it didn’t send. A reason to believe God is watching over me. 

It’s becoming increasingly obvious I’m demented. What else could explain it? To be the kind of man who has a girlfriend that others would die for, letting me do whatever to her, a folder on my phone now of pictures that the weirdos in her Instagram comments would pay real money to look at. Each night, saying she loves me down the phone, and I text a girl I knew for two months last summer? What way would my brain show up in an MRI scan? Very abnormal, the doctor would mutter, and I’d be like, yeah, I had an inkling. 

Maybe I’m just curious, seeking closure. I’d like to know how she’s doing. What colleges she applied for. What she thought of the leaving cert, if she found it hard. She would have finished this week, maybe last. What was it like for her? Desks lined up in some PE hall, no doubt. Old convent windows, summer sunshine catching dust. Her hands smoothing the docket, nails painted. Colourful nails always, and hair done up in some elaborate double plait French thing. She hated how flat she thought her hair was. Then going out to the pub afterwards, a bottle of Corona with a wedge of lime in the neck, going down easy. Eighteen now. Wow. I never wished her a happy birthday. Would have felt weird doing it.

I go through my pictures. There aren’t many, only the ones Jen took on her camera and sent to me. I know where to find them, at the beginning of the roll underneath all those nightclub shots and pictures of Astrid in Italy. Dalia and Elias at the lake. Me and Jonas in the park last September. It’s been a long time since I was here, staring at that one photo I once obsessed over. It’s the only good one I have of her. At the festival, taken in the crowd, and I'm looking at her, she doesn't see me doing it, and her face luminous, dusted with glitter. She was amazing. If only I–

New message from Astrid. 

Thank you for your enthusiasm. Anything for my fans. 

I exhale a laugh. That’s funny. Amusement is followed by the dreadful sense I’ve been caught doing something illegal. Wondering why I’m reliving all this old stuff. What am I trying to feel? I tap the corner of the picture, delete it, and Evie vanishes. I relax my shoulders, relieved, absolved of sin.

 “Something good on your phone?” Jonas says. 

���Nah, I was trying to text Astrid, but I have a poor signal.”

“Ah. Yes. We are in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah?” I peer out at oceans of dense vegetation, mist layered between the trees. “Long journey, isn’t it?”

He looks at his phone. “Three hours to go, then another four on the bus.”

“Music to my ears.”

He attempts a laugh. 

“Do you want to talk or something?”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. We can also not talk, if that’s what you prefer.”

“Talking would be nice if my head was clear, and I didn’t feel so unwell. Sorry. I know I’m not bringing a lot of fun on this journey for you. I thought it would be better, but…” he trails off miserably, and I nod. “It’s fine. Been there. We can also just sit.”

“Is it okay for me to say I don’t want to do this kind of thing anymore? I mean, going out and drinking so much and having so many drugs.”

I chuckle. “That’s the classic thing, isn’t it? We always say that, and then a few days later we’re out doing it all again. The circle of life. You mean that now, but I know you.”

“I think I mean it. I’ve had enough. I am tired of being sick and worrying so much about the things I may have said or done. My life has been this way for so many years.”

“Mine too.”

“It ruins everything.”

“Like with that girl last night?”

He chews his lip. “Nothing happened. I was too drunk. She left me to sleep on the couch and I ran away in the morning before she woke up.”

“Oh.”

“And I don’t want things to be like that anymore. I don’t want to feel so stupid. She was a nice person, and I humiliated myself.”

My phone sits hot in my palm, a token of my guilt and stupidity. “Maybe you’re right, then. Maybe we should stop.”

“You think you will?” 

I almost tell him about last night, and the text, and Evie and the reasons I felt driven to, as I so often do when high and lonely, when that innate melancholy I carry creeps in, but I stop myself. I don’t talk about the past with people from my present. There is no point. It’s over, and I have already walked away from it. 

“Yeah, I think I’ll probably have to. I recognise it isn’t doing me any favours.”

A half-smile, then. “What will Elias and Dalia think?”

“Of us going all straight-edge? I dunno. We’ll find out in Berlin.” I stretch my arms and neck, stiff from sitting so long. “I think I’ll walk the corridors for a bit, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay.”

And as I do that, stroll up and down the hallways, peeking into other cabin, using the bathroom, admiring nature from a window at the rear of the train, I consider the good intentions and promises I have made in my life. The girlfriends I promised I’d always care about, the grades I said I’d uphold, the fitness I said I’d reach, the bedroom I said I’d eventually clean, friends I swore I’d stay in touch with… Saying I’ll stop doing drugs is kind of like that, just something said for the sake of saying it, to create a pretence that I’m a person who makes wise or healthy choices without ever intending to follow through. I can’t stand the pressure. I’ll act this way in Thailand for Jonas’ benefit, and feel better for it, knowing in a month I’ll be in the Berghain toilets again, accepting mystery pills from people in latex vests. 

Back in the cabin, he reclines, leafing through his travel guide. “All good?” he says, and I nod. “I think I’ll try to sleep for a bit.”

“Okay then. If you sleep too long, I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

I lay down, my face in the pillow and listen to sounds of pattering rain, squeaky bunks and the pages of the book, and I sleep, deep, sound, all the way to the end of the line.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[bigriceenthusiast]

guys i know arcane is fundamentally a tragedy okay. i know this i promise you

and i feel like i'm not gonna be as articulate as i'd like about this but it felt like one those tragedies where it's like the love was there and it changed everything right. the characters could've done everything differently but they wouldn't have. the love was there (thinking of jayvik for example)

however. i just. don't like what they did with jinx?? OKAY DISCLAIMER SHE'S MY FAVORITE CHARACTER OKAY I'M SORRY but i just hate the fucking "curse" so much like it just doesn't feel as poignant and beautiful and thoughtful as the rest of the show for me?? like season 1 jinx was amazing i loved what they did with her but season 2 jinx just felt like she was there to get thrown around if that makes sense?

"everyone close to me dies" is a fine plot and whatnot but what about "but they don't. and now i have to face my own actions and active role in what i let myself become. in what i let others turn me into" because all the other characters felt so much more like people making decisions? for jinx it's like everyone close to her dies and that's her curse and they just. won't subvert that? but defying this idea of the curse and giving this character agency in the now lucid state we saw her in with isha would've made such a compelling arc AND given isha the opportunity for more depth

idk maybe i just loved her and isha too much and i'm being delusional but i think the storyline of her having to accept that the curse was in her head and having to heal from THAT because oh shit suddenly death is real and i can become an active agent in my life and addressing that almost unconscious victim complex would've hit so incredibly fucking hard and been a good way to expand on healing and building something new like ekko said too

i know the curse was a metaphor but literally everyone close to her did die up until she disappeared in the finale which is just. such a weird ending for a character that struggled with extreme paranoia the way jinx did

or maybe therapy has been fucking me up and i'm projecting who knows

[all-inmoderation]

not enough ppl know about this fic

take me to the answers (i'm the one who's listening) by annnubis

if your favorite character in JJK is either Yuuji or Geto, you have got to read this fic. This story understands those two characters like no other.

It's a canon-divergence, time-travel fix-it AU, in which Yuji, post-shibuya, is thrown back to gojo and geto's schooldays (post hidden inventory arc).

the prose in this fic is so polished and the characters are all given a level of maturity that i found so refreshinggggg. all the other characters are also just as fleshed out, from satoru, shoko, to even Yaga. Yuji's reactions pertaining to Gojo are especially touching. And the way he sees Geto is so characteristically kind.

some excerpts from the fic to entice you guys to read it:

They surround the crater and naturally Satoru gets closer to it than any of them, though he's right behind him. Suguru knows Satoru noticed it, too—something terribly human-shaped, with a soft filthy face and hunched shoulders and scuffed red sneakers.

The first thing Sukuna ever gave me, he thinks in the direction of his teacher sealed terrifyingly away in the dark, was all this blood on his hands.

Sensei or not. It's Satoru Gojo. It seems every version of him contains the fundamentals that set Yuuji just a little bit at ease.

Toji Fushiguro is dead. Suguru lies awake in his bed, reminding himself of this supposedly comforting fact that instead leaves him feeling hollow and restless, laying flat underneath a thin bed sheet staring up at his ceiling fan.

Sorcerers die all the time.

He is not one of the strongest. Not anymore.

Sukuna Ryomen’s vessel is compelling. The unscarred parts of his face look soft as down, but the scars put a warm feeling in Suguru's stomach.

Also, one of my favorite aspects of the fic is how it describes Yuuji's scent/energy. I know the accepted fanon is that Yuuji smells like peaches, but I've always found the idea of that scent to be a bit too sugarysweet and childish(?) to fit Yuuji.

But this:  Rosewater steam, faint and warm and welcoming, and pooling blood and something herbaceous.

now this is what I'm fucking talking abouttttt. That's how you fucking describe a scent, man! The idea of Yuuji's aura being ~rosewater steam~ is just so much more alluring and tantalizing than peaches, imo. ahhhhhh I'm in loveeee.

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

What're some Steph Brown moments you think should be talked about more?

Thank you sm for asking me this…

This one is actually really hard for me to answer because I think society should be talking about every stephanie brown moment all of the time. Additionally, I genuinely don’t think I can tell what moments w her are underrated anymore.

That being said I have made a list:

1. This Scene w Crystal in cataclysm

Robin #54

Really shows some extremely interesting parts of their relationship. This is like one of our first indications Crystal and Steph’s relationship might be on the mend. We get a look into how close they are despite their many issues. We have a minute where Steph jokes about Crystal blaming herself for the quake “too” implying Crystal often blames herself for things out of her control, which as I’m always discussing is a Stephanie Brown classic trait. The idea that this is something Crystal might do as well is so compelling to me. And throughout it all, we have Steph trying to protect Crystal, taking care of her, even tucking her in like a parent would their child. (Cough Stephanie brown parentification cough cough)

2. This panel from GK37. The way Batmans silhouette steps forward while Steph’s silhouette stands starkly still. The purple overcast sky with the flakes of snow (the whole weather/environment in gk37 kills me). The emphasis on ‘go to hell’ as after a comic of bargaining Steph finally comes to terms with the fact that she can’t rely on anyone else, that Batman going to her and telling her she could be something, that she could be good meant absolutely nothing to him. Amazing. Imprinted into my brain.

4. Steph’s conversation with Natalia about the stars in Robin 104. Gorgeous panel with an interesting look into Steph’s brain.

5. The Riddle scene in Robin 113, because I’m not smart enough to break down the Riddlers riddles and put together the implications which I assume are there and I want someone else to do it for me. Additionally, the lighting is absolutely gorgeous as we get to see Steph at this low point.

6. Robin #92, the scene where Bruce talks to Steph about the future, deeply unsettling her to the point that months and months later at the very start of war games she’s still thinking about it

7. The moment after Tim Drake’s birthday gaslighting bonanza where he commiserates with Steph abt getting tested by Batman. I’m imagining that he feels guilty for his role in her own test. For the record I’m hallucinating that guilt. I think it’s possible Lewis straight up didn’t know how Tim lied to Steph in Batman Family. But on the other hand the parallels to GK37 are insane and clearly there for a reason. Thinking about this lots. The repetition of “I know” vs “go to hell”. Their reversal of roles…I’ve already blabbed abt this on my blog but I’m still putting it here also bc I’m thinking abt it always.

Robin #120

8. All of GK22 as a reflection of how Batman’s loneliness post officer down is actually inextricably connected with his decision to sanction Steph as Spoiler. But specifically this scene because it makes me sick and ill and because it’s my header. Love the decapitated head side eyeing Batman.

9. Okay last one. One moment I’ve been thinking about a lot recently is Stephanie’s first interaction with Batman post War Games. Like the first thing she says to him after returning from her faked death is her essentially asking permission to patrol in Gotham.

Robin #174

Which is so fucking insane. She was unironically and genuinely spiritually broken by the events of war games. One of the very core tenets of her characterization, her willingness to be Spoiler no matter what regardless of the consequences, is fractured and entirely reversed. I have a lot of thoughts about this, and in general how post war games pre bg2009 Steph has healed physically but something big has clearly changed in her and not for the better. If you ask me, that period of time is stephanie brown at her lowest point. Will be posting abt this more eventually because writing this out has given me worse brain worms than normal.

Thank you so much for the ask again, sorry this took me a second I kept writing out way too much. I’m unfortunately a rambler at heart. Would love to hear anyone’s thoughts on any of these moments or other moments I missed.