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tokisguitarpick · 4 years ago

Text

interruption part.1

characters: Skwisgaar Skwigelf x Reader

doods, I really tried to make this one giant piece but I said that on friday, it’s fuckin wednesday, work has been kicking my ass, here’s what I got so far

The first time you met Skwisgaar Skwigelf was unfortunately also the first time you pissed off Skwisgaar Skwigelf.

In your defense, you thought it would be prudent to bond with the support staff- your boss Charles, the music producer Abigail and her assistant Dick, the Klokateers, the people around the band- as soon as you could to cement your place at work first. After that, then you would really worry about Dethklok liking you. It's not that you were rude to them, hell your whole job was making sure their needs were met and they were secure and happy on a day to day basis. But if Charles asked you for a report at the same time Murderface told you to go get his dethphone from his bedroom, Charles took first priority. Which was why when you were sent to deliver a fax from Crystal Mountain Records to Abigail, you went diligently down the 4 floors it took to reach the studio and entered quietly, recognizing the red recording light on over the door. A brightly melodious guitar solo rang through the gothic studio rooms, sounding as exquisite as a Beethoven composition when unaccompanied by the rest of the death metal band, and you hovered by the door for a moment. You were nervous to disturb now that you heard exactly what they were recording. But your rationale won out and you decided to simply slip the fax to Abigail and leave.

Approaching her desk, you got a clear look at the source of the music and it caused your step to falter. Skwisgaar, tall and imposing, shredded his guitar with deft hands inside the recording booth, his fingers moving faster on the Gibson neck than your eyes could follow.

Instead, they moved to his face, taking in his closed eyes, his full lips parted, and a light sheen of sweat covering his skin as he worked. His long, cornsilk hair was uncharacteristically swept up in a messy bun at the nape of his neck, short tendrils made loose from exertion clinging to the edges of his face or else flowing around him. A bead of sweat caught your eye as it rolled down his Adams apple and your gaze trailed to his thin, defined arms and the muscles working under his skin, his long fingers showing off every ounce of skill he had. He looked nothing like the guitarist that took the stage with Dethklok, giving a heavy and thrashing performance. He looked at peace, a man entirely in his element. He looked heavenly.

Suddenly, every headline calling him a rock and roll god over a photo of him covered in ghoulish makeup felt entirely false. If only they could see what was in front of you now.

Sadly, all good things come to an end. Your faltered step caused you to squeak as you caught your balance. Abigail jumped and turned in her chair. The music ended with an abrupt squeal and Skwisgaar's icy blue eyes snapped open.

"Oh, who the fucks is this?!" he spat into the mic and you blushed, embarrassment finding a home in the pit of your stomach. Abigail sighed, looking you over with a crooked eyebrow.

"So sorry, I was just bringing this to you." You handed Abigail the fax and she unfolded the paper to read it over. Skwisgaar, who seemed to find your interruption bothersome enough, bristled as your eyes flickered between him and the music producer. He yanked the guitar strap off his shoulder and snarled, "Not evens anythings important! Get the fucks out of heres!" He held the guitar by the neck and gestured aggressively with it.

You jumped, turning tail and hurrying away as fast as you could without running. The only reasoning for his behavior came at the end of an email from Abigail, a throwaway line about it being crunch time with the production of the newest album. But sadly, that was the start of your professional relationship with the Dethklok member and it was a shame, that one instance coloring the way he treated your presence in Mordhaus. He didn't reply when you asked the band questions, he turned his nose up when you had to contain some of the band's more brutal ideas, he only ever referred to you as a servant, the list went on.

It was taxing and honestly, a little upsetting. You had managed to piss off Nathan your first week here as well but by the next morning, he greeted you with a joke about it and asked you to make a pot of coffee. You spent many afternoons wondering if there was any way to make it up to the haughty guitarist. And wondering what exactly you needed to make up in the first place.

The next climactic moment in your relationship came around the four month mark of your employment.

The acrid smell of burning plastic reached you as you walked past the hallway leading to the kitchen, making you sigh. You put a jump in your step, something at odds with the very exasperated expression you could feel on your face, and hurried to the source of the smell, the armful of dirty laundry you'd picked up in the living room discarded as you jogged. Entering the kitchen, it took no time to zero in on the small fire slowly growing on the stovetop.

Toki and Skwisgaar stood over it, the former blowing frantically at the quickly blackening frying pan while the former flapped at the fire with a hand towel. The mere sight of Toki's long hair billowing around the open flame made your chest seize. "Guys, guys," you will be the first to admit, your voice came out in a shriek, "stop! Move!"

Toki jumped away from the stove with a welp, his eyes wild when he saw you. You snatched the fire extinguisher off the wall by the door and ran up to the stove. Skwisgaar still hadn't moved. If anything, he seemed to step in your way, blocking you from the fire. "I has it under controls, leave." His voice was hard and cold, almost jarring in contrast to the scene playing out.

And in your bewilderment, you snapped. Months of irritation compounding itself into a rage that bubbled past your lips, you growled, "Skwisgaar Skwigelf. If you think-", you grabbed a fistful of his shirt and wrenched him back, "-for a goddamn SECOND-" Skwisgaar stumbled and you caught his slim waist in the crook of your arm, "-I'm going to explain to Charles-", you threw him behind you and lined up the extinguisher, "-his most arrogant guitarist got third degree burns because he was too fucking STUBBORN-" aim, "-to MOVE!" fire. You pulled the trigger on the fire extinguisher and doused the stove in a thick, chemical scented foam, holding it there until the fire was smothered. Breathing heavily, you spun around and shoved the extinguisher into the blonde's arms. "Then you're stupid, too," you murmured with venom.

Skwisgaar was a tall man so even face to face as you were, he still towered over you, his eyes icy and his hands overlapping yours on the safety equipment. His eyes traced your face and you could the heat coming off your cheeks but using all your strength, you softened your expression. "Stop freezing me out. I'm just here to help." Your voice was still low but much gentler, which seemed to throw him off. Skwisgaar's haughty face mellowed and his eyes dropped to your mouth, his bottom lip finding a place between his teeth unconsciously.

"Ja," Skwisgaar finally replied, a terse acceptance as he took the fire extinguisher from you. His eyes hadn't left your face for a moment and he just rocked back on his heels, keeping the equipment awkwardly held in front of him. "I suppose Charles woulds finds dat upsettings."

Breathing a sigh of relief, you finally looked back at the stove and frowned at the charred frying pan. "Can I ask what you guys were doing?"

Toki finally piped up, seeming relieved that you weren’t yelling at them. "We's were tryings to makes a grilleds cheese."

Eyebrows furrowed, you studied the charcoal in the pan until you recognized it as a whole block of cheese. The mental image of a new, freshly purchased block of cheese, still wrapped in the plastic, being placed by these adult idiots into the frying pan made your blood pressure rise and you immediately put it to the side, deciding against any other questions.

"Okay. Well. I'll order us some pizza."

That cheered Toki up immediately but Skwisgaar simply nodded once, his cheeks turning a very light pink.

From that point on, Skwisgaar seemed to slowly accept your place as a member of the support staff. Between riffing on your jokes and agreeing with you on occasion, you would've said that your relationship with Skwisgaar was the best it had ever been.

Unfortunately, this came with an unforeseen consequence.

Now, you had a massive crush on Skwisgaar.

Okay, sure. Technically, you'd had a crush on him for a few years. Everyone in the world knew Dethklok and regardless if they liked the music or not, everyone had a favorite. Yours had always been the Swed. And sure, he looked hot as fuck in the recording booth all those momths ago. But all the following cold shoulder encounters had turned you off of the rock star, the withering look he shot you whenever you had tried to reign in the band members kicking any thoughts of fancy to the curb.

But that was before. This was after. The shock you felt later that day when he addressed you by name for the first time was electrifying. Instead of jestful barbs at your expense on the off chance he acknowledged you, Skwisgaar joked that you took no shit so Murderface better stop riling you up. No longer barking "Moves!" if you were in his way, he simply slipped past you, his hand warm against your upper- though once or twice, lower- back. Now you preened yourself when you knew you would see him, not wishing you could hide. It was driving you crazy.

You felt like a groupie or a schoolgirl, constantly fixated on your crush. Wishing and scheming to get closer when he was around you, his presence obscuring your thoughts when he was away. You had read all the print interviews available in the Mordhaus archives, watched the video interviews online, and had even followed a Dethklok fan Instagram to get a smattering of band photos on your timeline every day. You justified it all as being diligent at your job. But that only went so far, even with yourself. You stayed there, living in limbo for months as you wrestled with your feelings and professionalism. Skwisgaar, however, seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on you. You caught him staring at you sometimes but it was so few and far between that you simply chalked it up to him zoning out.

Or that's how you lived until Christmas.

You celebrated your winter holiday early so you could be on call for the band during actual Christmastime, which turned out to be a good idea. The mothers of Dethklok decided to visit the week leading up to the 25th, having skipped the year before on Charles' recommendation and they seemed exceedingly cranky due to that. The week itself was brutal - Nathan was broody and even quicker to anger than normal, Pickles hadn't been seen sober since they learned about the impending arrival, Murderface was essentially a walking scab from the anxious picking he'd subjected his arms to, and Toki was catatonic.

Of course, your focus was caught most by Skwisgaar. Sulky with a sour stomach, he kept his head down all week. He had his guitar glued to his hands and was second only to Toki in using avoidance as a defense mechanism.

It was incredibly stressful juggling between the bristled band members and their neurotic mothers. Charles himself said it would be at least a month before they could schedule any public appearances so the boys could decompress, and ideally avoid a PR nightmare. So to say you were glad to see their mothers finally leave, only Nathan's thanking you for attending to her, was an understatement.

After a long day of taking everyone to eat then to the airport, you had retired to your small Mordhaus apartment as soon as you could - which was pretty soon as the band seemed just as exhausted and had disappeared once you had gotten home.

You didn't reemerge until after midnight, sneaking out and down the hall to find something to eat at a quarter past twelve. The house was quiet on your walk to the kitchen but after grabbing your snack - a cold cut sandwich you had wrapped in a paper towel to avoid leaving a trail of crumbs - you heard soft, twinkling music coming from the living room as you passed it on your way to the elevators. Pausing to listen, you recognized it as guitar and wondered which of the guitarists were playing, given that Nathan was the only band member who couldn't. You wondered if Murderface had seen you head down and was trying to get your attention, a ploy he had used before, ending with your curiosity getting the best of you. You crept to the living room entrance to peek.

Skwisgaar sat on the sofa facing you, pale and glowing in the dim light coming from the arcade games. His eyes were closed as his fingers glided over the neck of his Gibson, his silky hair draping down his neck and naked shoulders. Seemingly dressed for bed, he was shirtless - though his guitar hid his midriff, to your disappointment - with a pair of black sweatpants on. He seemed lost in his music, strumming out a low melody with mastery.

Your breath caught as you took in the sight and you stood there silently, trying to photograph the moment in your mind, until you registered his expression.

Devastation.

His eyes were closed but tears were streaming down his gaunt cheeks, his quivering eyebrows were furrowed, and he was mouthing a song to himself, his full lips pale. He looked like a man at war with himself, lost and broken. The music was no longer soft and twinkling, it hung in the air like a funeral dirge.

As the past few days ran through your mind, every mention of Skwisgaar's childhood came back to you and all the pieces suddenly clicked into place. This wasn't a man lost, this was a man, once again, in his element. The grief and sickness he had been feeling all week was flowing out of his guitar like the tears from his eyes.

Feeling your own eyes prickling, you felt like this was too much, too personal, for you to see. But despite that, your heart ached and you were stepping forward before you registered the motion. "Skwisgaar?"

#metalocalypse #metalocalypse fanfic #skwisgaar skwigelf #skwisgaar skwielf x reader #dethklok #i wanted it to be 5 times you interrupt skwisgaar and the last one was gonna end in a kiss but i'm slow #i got stubby slow fingers donts fuckin looks at me #if you have ever seen hozier live i tried to capture that in the recording booth #timeline is weird because i wrote this before debating if my fics take place between s3 and s4 still dont know!!!! enjoy!!!

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worldsover · 4 years ago

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Dal Segno ft. Chuu

length ✦ 3570

genres ✧ music making; oral fixation; facefuck; subby!Chuu

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Composition is only fifty percent of the process, you've heard, but it's closer to ten for you. For the importance of a solid melody and chord progression with the right instruments and singer, a song becomes less than the sum of its parts with bad mixing because all that effort goes to waste when you can’t hear something, or when something is too loud, or when a certain je ne sais quoi is wrong. But you do know. You don't have to be a chef to be a food critic but it certainly helps. Avoid muddling the lows as it waters down the soup. Carve space in the highs to prevent too much salt from killing the taste buds. Have at most five sounds at a time or else the flavors clash. Focus on these basic techniques to guide you as repetition wears down your mind. Funny. Repetition legitimizes especially in music yet here you are fatigued by repetition as though you weren't down four cups of black coffee. Repetition legitimizes. “From the sign,” the translation reads. Notation, simply instructing a musician to return to a certain point in a piece. You recognize it as an intro song you wrote years ago.

Glass and foam separate the undersized room. Cheap ramen and dampness in the hot air contribute to the odor. You would keep the fan on, if it were worth the extra time filtering out faint noise from recordings. The only scent that keeps you sane is a slight strawberry flavor lingering in the room. Jiwoo. Your muse. A large clock holds both of its hands near one with the lack of natural light muddling whether it’s AM or PM. Studios were always underground man-caves whether they were discount rooms or the signature workspace of the biggest producers. Here you are in the former. Look down at the Macbook and all the wires, sliders, and knobs. Deep breath. “Take 63,” you say into the cheap control room microphone.

“Not good enough.”

“Again.”

“One more.”

Look up. Jiwoo sucks on a grape lollipop. You stare. Watching her fixated on getting all flavor out of the purple sweet derails your flow state. See, work had a rhythm. Listen, volume up, hotkey to copy this clip, volume down. The obvious innuendo sends you offbeat. That perky butt bending over to get a notebook filled with lyrics entrenches the folds of your brain. She didn’t have to wear that skirt. You’ve seen that skirt already and you wish she weren’t wearing it. Oh, you really wish she weren’t wearing that skirt. Guilt sets in. You’re a trusted coworker, she, a naive girl. It takes a while to find your groove again. Your stare has yet to cease until she finally returns the eye contact with candy still in mouth. Her pink tongue laps to secure all the sugar and red pillows engulf the ever-shrinking circle. Pop. Anyone else and it would be calculated action.

“Oppa." Her voice resounds in your monitor headphones. "I don’t know if these harmonies really make sense. Why did you write the second voice to cross down below the main line? Plus it goes so low."

“To be fair, you wrote both of those melodies and you said you wanted them in the same song. Tell me anywhere else they’d work.”

“Ugh, let’s figure this out later. Next song.“

Dozens of takes later and Jiwoo’s frustration causes her to make mistakes. Sometimes she even tries to start singing with the sucker in her mouth. For the character she plays, you know she’s a professional and that she can be better. Yet hours later, she still could not get the vocal runs right. Incomplete songs bloat your project folder: "Jiwoo - Mania", "Jiwoo - Look Closer", "Jiwoo - Untitled Idea 21". Just a small side project that the company approved during another ample period of break time between comebacks. That’s why the director didn’t even let you use the company’s facilities, instead opting to rent out this cheap closet of a studio. At least no one would be mad about the amount of time you spent recording together.

You shift seats from the leather office chair to the white lovechair, the only two pieces of furniture that fit comfortably in the room. Jiwoo follows suit and leaves the recording booth, really more of a phone booth in square footage, while she huffs and puffs on her candy.

“I’m tired, oppa,” she says.

“Me too, Jiwoo. May I remind you that I’m not getting paid extra for this. Are you gonna focus or what?” your voice just a few cents down, just a bit harsher.

“I, I’m sorry.” A lick anyway. Her meek tone disappears, “Ya! You know how good your royalties are gonna be. Sole producer and all that. Plus, here you are still doing all this work for me." Why were you working so hard on this? "You know, if you just taught me how to use Ableton-”

“Then I’d be out of a job.”

Jiwoo frowns, “Wow, selfish much? You could’ve joined me as a trainee.”

“Nah, no way. Fish dance better.”

“Shut up, oppa. You would’ve easily made it with your, um, musical talent.” She clamps down on the lollipop with her mouth.

“You good? What was that?”

“Let’s," she stands promptly, "get back to recording.”

Crack. Jiwoo bites down on the lollipop and throws the stick in the trash. In ten minutes, she nails the verse she spent hours trying to get right. It'd be really nice to know what catalyzed that rally. You'd ask but driving Jiwoo back to her dorm is quiet as usual.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Make a good impression on someone, anyone, on your first day as a mixing engineer. That’s why you returned to the Blockberry Creative building with an extra bar of Melona in hand. A simple bribery. Light beamed down between two skyscrapers on a short girl with long hair and strands of bangs adorning her forehead. She stood outside the lobby, introducing herself to every passerby. You had to pinch her cheeks, the intrusive thought screamed.

She scurried up to you. “Hi! I’m Kim Jiwoo and I’m going to become an idol!”

Ah, a trainee. You already knew she was destined to become one. Well, not literally, you weren’t in charge of that. But her overflowing charm was impossible to ignore. You had to tease her though, “Are you sure?”

“Hey! What would you know about that, mister?” she said.

You bit down on your mango. “Mister? First of all, I’m only a high school senior,” her lips rounded in surprise, “And second, I’m your new audio guy, and I know for a fact they’re debuting you girls in order of talent.”

“Woooow. Well, I’ll have you know, I have a great voice!” She certainly spoke lyrically. “Wait a minute, I didn’t know they hired people that young.” You pointed at her. “Okay, I’m in high school too. But that’s different, idols start this age.”

“I guess. I’ve been making music ever since I was a kid, and they liked what I had,” you said and Jiwoo nodded in understanding.

She fluttered her eyebrows. “Sooo, is that mango ice cream for me? Oppa?” A little surprised she already called you that, but it sounded right.

“No, I have this unopened strawberry-” Jiwoo snatched the half-eaten cold treat from your hand, and started licking it. Trouble she would be.

You spent many recording sessions together, alone after all the other members left. She cozied up to you because her little musical snippets had to become full-fledged tracks and you helped her out every time.

Something changed over the years however. Your interactions became colder. It felt like you were the only one who she would respond to in a deeper voice. Jiwoo wouldn't pepper you with silly acts or mess around. Maybe she took you more seriously which is how you managed to make more songs together regardless. Then, you stood idly by and watched her debut. Who didn't love her? But when she was with you, you missed the playfulness, the ice cream and her riffing over your playful guitar strums. It turned less of a hobby and more of a job though you never regretted any second with Jiwoo regardless.

Under the Earth's largest natural satellite, you shared a simple meal in black bean noodles. She was still in her hippie outfit from the comeback, and you handed her your jacket since it was cold. You realized, there was something else there that you were too inexperienced to notice. Your bodies' radiation replace the chill in the air, a bubble with just the two of you eating on the grass in a park near your dorm. A cliche slurping on one noodle and Jiwoo pulled away. In embarrassment, like a damn anime character, she hiccuped. Good thing you didn't close your eyes when you leaned in.

“Wanna make an album together?” Jiwoo says.

“Sure.”

You threw away the noodles’ package and escorted her home. That was all you expected anyway. Fine.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

“That’s enough!”

Three goddamn weeks. It's been three goddamn weeks and you've barely made any progress.

Barge into the booth, slam the door shut and raise your tone, just below a shout, “I've had it up to here! You know how many of my songs have been mashed together in some unholy quest for your perfection? Just one unknown something is missing and either you start complaining or we move on to the next."

She backs up from the mic to the insulated wall but you continue, paying no heed to her, as you spout your piece to the artificially cold air, "You know how much time I’ve spent outside working on these songs? These are songs I’ve saved up over years. And you trash them like they’re nothing. How do you even manage to record LOONA tracks?”

Regret sinks in. This was your passion project as much as hers. Was it frustration from the recordings? Weeks of the same routine and it took until now for you to give in to your temper.

"It wouldn't even be that bad! If you could just one time, you could be cute or cheerful again with me, or,” Fuck. So stupid. You don’t have to take your friendships for granted like this. You’re lucky enough she treats you as much. “Hold on. Wait, I'm-"

Examine her face. It’s not sour and she hasn’t stormed out or even slapped you.

“No, no. You don’t have to say it. I’m. I’m sorry oppa.” She looks down. “I'm the one messing up after all." Her heartbeat a harsh snare drum. "And you. You're. Different. Looking at you always made me feel some, something funny. Not funny but? Ugh. I wish I could explain it.”

You hold in your confusion.

She blabbers on, “Like, are. Are you mad? I promise you, I,” A nervous breath, ”I like you. Okay?"

Your confusion grows like the length of your silence.

"I’m just acting how I really am with you. Do you want to maybe, I don't know, like," her voice decrescendos, "Um. Punish me?”

Your heart, your brain are deprived of blood as it all rushes down. Did you hear that right? Not an apology, not retribution, but a call to punishment? Misinterpreting her, the consequences would be dire but that damned demure tone for such an erotic request. Was Jiwoo the exact type of slut constructed in your mind? The one that made you feel sinful for even imagining. No, no, there's no way.

Too late. Jiwoo must have noticed the absurd bulge now. It had to be these Adidas pants today. Fuck it. Life can’t be lived fully without risk. Hopefully, the same switch turned in her mind. You remove all ire from your face and say in earnest, “Do you like games?"

She lights up a little. You sigh relieved.

"Let’s try…”, you say, ”Strip recording.” She lights up a little more, so you go on, ”If I mess up anything, the mix, the composition, the arrangement, I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Your choice. And every time you mess up-”

Jiwoo unbuttons her denim shorts and brings them down her tight legs.

“D- did I say now?”

However, with her resolve steeled, she continues pulling them. "So what? I did mess up, right?" she says coquettish. Deliberate the turn she makes when she bows down to remove the shorts from her legs, Jiwoo reveals a hint of her innie pussy on that same little ass that ran through your mind earlier. A small trace of her thighs glistens, the only thing reflecting the single lightbulb’s glow in the microphone’s abode. She turns back to face you. "Please. Punish me."

Step closer until Jiwoo backs up to the soundproofing. She’s an eighth note away from your face, flashing her beady eyes and a coy smile, ”Where's your underwear?" A little drop spills out onto the floor, "And why are you so wet, Jiwoo-ah?”

Red on her cheeks, like she only now realized her dishevelment in front of you. “You just… Something about you snapping at me. I don’t get it either. I knew you'd do it, some day, I wanted you to," she mumbles in her best efforts to answer you.

“Have you ever worn underwear to the recordings?”

Those efforts continue to fail.

"Oh, Kim Jiwoo. What do I do with you?" One of your hands grabs her cheek. The other crawls down her back to grab her cheek.

“Oppa… Do I have to say it?”

“I want to hear every." Smack. "Word." Smack. She slips a moan.

“Can you," she says, "can you use my mouth?”

You disguise your long pause as thought, teasing the bare skin of her ass with your exploratory fingers to bide time, but it's an expression of your shock. The interruption helps you come up with a more suitable punishment however.

“How about this then. Every time you mess up, you have to give me a blowjob. Call?”

“Call!” Once more, unprompted, she kneels down in front of you and claws away your track pants. You roll with the punches.

"Oppaa," with an pronounced pop and in a sing-songy rhythm, "I've always wanted to know, if your dick-" It certainly didn't need Jiwoo's dainty hands pulling on your boxers, as it would've sprang out on its own with how like diamond your cock is getting.

"Fuuuck," the first profanity you ever hear her utter, she lilts. "Please. Oppa. Fuck my face?"

After all she said, she could still surprise you. Bring your hips forward and just as you would've her pussy, tease Jiwoo’s lips with the head of your dick. She parts them open, starved, anxious.

Hold her by the chin. "Wait."

She freezes at the command. Again, like foreplay, rub her lips with that head making them turn redder and more plump. You sweep aside her bangs to see her begging eyes. More importantly, slide your dick up to her nude forehead to slap as a first act of retribution. “A-ah!” Jiwoo stutters as you slap her face with your manhood again and again. Bring your cock back down and she's already a mess without you even having entered her mouth. A little drool from her shut lips gently massages your balls while a bit of precum drools from your slit to meet those lips.

Jiwoo mumbles as best as she can with you holding her jaw shut and your dick on her lips, "Please. Please. Shove your dick in me. I need you in my mouth."

You squint your rough eyes to command her.

Muffled still, "Oppa. Please. I. I need to taste you. You just, you're so thick and you're so long and cock is perfect and please I just-" Loosen the grip on her chin to let her envelop the entire tip with her warm lips. "Mmmmm..." the moan resonates a saw wave and your stern resolve fades away on your first entrance into her face but it returns as her teeth rub against you. She quickly readjusts her jaw but it takes multiple attempts of you pulling out and her sucking you back until only silken lips hold your cock's head. Finally. A focused glint in her eyes. She endeavours to keep your tip in her mouth as long as possible.

You were mad at her earlier, weren't you?

Recall this anger and press yourself into her with all your hips' strength, working against the force of her lip's airtight suction. Saliva leaks to betray the seal. Jiwoo's prying tongue explores the underside of your cock but you reach an impasse while she's not even halfway down the shaft. You shove your dick deeper but to no avail and tears roll down her eyes joining the fluids coating her lips. Thus you exit back out. And back in you go to repeat and repeat and slowly increase your rate, becoming rough sex with her diligent mouth. All the positions you’ve imagined fucking her little pussy, you picture using her throat instead. Even in this compact studio, the couch, chair and desk would provide ample support for you to use her in many ways. The dirty thoughts inspire your speed right now. She slurps and gulps at every quick plunge but you realize her moans and rumbles aren't just incoherent reactions. You decelerate.

“Ah, ahhh, ahhhhhh… Ah’ve ahways- Hmph.” She slurs as she tries her hardest to communicate while her airway is blocked.

She slides up your cock to catch some air, “Thought about it- Mmm.”

“Your dick in my mouth and it’s just so pew, fect- Ahhh.” Jiwoo's lips let go gently then her tongue sticks out to lick up your cock and she shows off a trail of spit leading to your tip. A less patient man would’ve jerked himself off right there to grant her eyes and open mouth's unison request to feed on your cum.

Instead you retort, “You think you’ve earned it? Not even halfway down. Going nowhere, just like our recording sessions, huh?”

“Shut up!”

“Oof.” You’re already weak in the knees so Jiwoo's one handed shove sends your tailbone to the floor. Since you’re still dazed by her confounding strength, she takes initiative and kowtows her head into your lap to crawl down your cock with her tiny lips. Fondling your balls, Jiwoo starts from the furthest point she could muster on your shaft up to your cock head. Her tongue follows back and she starts playing under your tip to swirl that tongue around the most sensitive parts until it explores your slit. You buckle and groan. Jiwoo sucks and spits and sucks while she circles only the most minimal twisting motion of her lips on your head. This is the Jiwoo you know. Relentless. Only now your load is her magnus opus.

Her right hand strays downwards and her face on your dick blocks a full view but you can tell that hand is working as intensely as her mouth. As she strokes herself with more vigor, she starts humming a satisfied melody on your tip. In kind, your subtle grunts turn into full-bodied moans. You're a single measure away from your coda so you reach down and pull her off your cock by grabbing her neck.

You glare into her. “Desperate little girl, aren't you?”

Her breath is stilted and she's nearly shaking. “Please…” she sobs, ”You, you want it as bad as I do right?” Of course. “Won't you just cum for me?” Not now. Not when you have putty in your hands.

“You're making a mess. You can't take me all the way down. And I see that it’s not just your saliva coating the floor.” Point to the spot where she kneels, her drool joins a stain growing ever larger with a strand of juice from her pussy flowing as you continue to berate her. Then you point to her hand. Ha. “Were you playing with yourself using my pencil?”

“No… Wait!”

You back off. “Your top’s a mess too. Anyone can tell I just fucked your face.” You take off your black hoodie and give it to her. “I’ll see you tomorrow for our next session.”

“Wait, we didn’t book tomorrow, did we? Also, you can’t just leave me like this! Oppa!”

"I said, I'll see you tomorrow. I have to go,“ you remind her, ”Ha Rin’s picking you up. And give me back that pencil.”

She hands it to you, unable to meet your eyes despite hers lusting over your cock. You'll definitely use the alluring musk on it for later to save you from your self-induced blue balls. Exit the booth. Of course she barely waits to use your hoodie the same way since she doesn’t notice you lingering in the room. Instead of hiding the grey long sleeve that soaks her neck, your used sweatshirt covers Jiwoo’s face as her fingers make the mess on the floor larger.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Swear to god I’m not just writing the cutest idols to write for. I mean maybe I am but also this answer from @nsfwtwicecatcher and all the subsequent pictures that I found of Chuu pouting inspired me. Also, this was a longer piece but I kept spinning my tires on it and decided to split it up, so look out for more.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Fermata, the aforementioned sequel

#kpop smut #loona smut #male reader #reader insert #title tracks

307 notes · View notes

bladekindeyewear · 4 years ago

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-08-06

♪ HS2 HS2 is baaaaack ♪

♪ HS2bloggin here we gooooo ♪

♪ Structural changes on their team but I don’t caaaaare ♪

♪ Already resooolved myself that its NOOOT gonna beee as good ♪ with inattentiveness to details characters like Terezi forgetting-what-they-used-to-know and an obsession with dwelling on traaageeeDEEE without relief-or-considering how weee’d feeeeeeel~ ♪♪♪ --so just gonna enjoy-what-i-caaaaaan about iiit~ ♪♪♪

Okay time for bankruptcy

> CHAPTER 11. History's Most Notorious Haters

Let’s see how effectively my perky new lowered-expectations attitude lets me enjoy this comic *click*

wut

Oh. so is this Dave drawing comics about current events or Regular Calliope doing so for our very first lanky look at her presumably-grown-up-more cherub form

> Knight: Keep it real.

HOLY SHIT IT’S DAVEBOT AND ARADIA

so we just get to SEE them?! just like that??? no buildup or anything? :D

Okay I’m marking out a little that’s a good sign. Also what a nerdy cop-out to turn the roboteyes into glasses that’s barely passable which is perfect, the rest of his outfit looks pretty cool tho

DAVEBOT: and thats reason four hundred nineteen why despite my mans many accomplishments i will never acknowledge big skateboardings contrived message that tony hawk is the quintessential skater of our generation ARADIA: o_o DAVEBOT: not in these trying times

Good to see Ultimate Dave is being true to form with regards to the core of his personality

DAVEBOT: beep boop ARADIA: i have told you several times that i was a robot before and i know for a fact you dont have to say beep boop DAVEBOT: hm that sounds fake does not compute ARADIA: david DAVEBOT: mom

I was with this conversation until the last two lines what the fuck

(I’m reading into it aren’t I, Aradia was trying to be atypically proper -- even though she wouldn’t have the frame of reference to know without being specifically told that “Dave” was considered nickname shorthand for the human name David, and thus if she DID know there’s no reason she’d use it except to troll him -- and Dave’s just mocking her response. Without any shame about his continued weirdness of calling people Mom, and by without any shame I mean he made the choice EXPLICITLY to intentionally evoke the awkwardness. Wow I got a lot out of two lines.)

(Oh, also alt!Callie’s true Jade-body incarnation here probably prompted her to start using “David” by example. There, various mysteries solved via a pile of assumptions probably to be disproven in the next couple lines I read.)

The Knight and the Maid stare at each other briefly, having exchanged enough meaningful glances over their time together to know when to drop it.

Would Time players have an easier time gelling this way, like this particular smoothness? Dropping it just before it gets weird or excessively irritating?

(Overclasspecting)

ARADIA: i think we have exchanged enough meaningful glances over our time together to know when to drop this DAVEBOT: what i enjoy about our conversations is that you just say things like that

OKAY I SNRK’D AT THAT. That was funny.

Initially. And now I’m concerned whether Aradia is being controlled by the narrative-speak, or whether they’re both just humorously referencing the meta-text they can both see, or--

ARADIA: oh is that what you enjoy ARADIA: well we are both an infinite number of years old living countless lifetimes at once but thats no reason to waste any of our...

WHAT??!? She’s an Ultimate Self too?!?

Um, okay! Yeah! So they’re BOTH just riffing on the narrative then. But... why would Dave need a robot body to accommodate his Ultimate Psyche without getting sick but Rose not need it? I can understand Dirk not needing it because the merging of the full breadth of his multiversal individuality gels well with him being a God of the aspect governing the power of his multiversal individuality, but Aradia?

Were the robot bodies not necessary after all, and the sickness Rose suffered and Obama thought Dave would have suffered some sort of ruse? Are there shenanigans afoot? (Or are we going with the “troll biology is better” cop-out?)

She knows how this will play out, having undoubtedly tried this joke on her friend in some timeline or another. Their rapport reflects a unique combination of their matching aspects but greatly differing classes. One a passive but powerful servant to time, the other wielding the aspect like a honed blade.

WHAT????

PASSIVE SERVANT OF THE ASPECT?!? WHAT THE FUCK

Okay if that means anything like it sounds like I guess my class chart is finally blown up, sure, they only waited (*checks last edit date*) SEVEN AND A HALF YEARS TO BLOW THAT GUESS UP, SURE

Wow. Okay, I feel some obligation to jump to conclusions and say the whole class chart is wrong, but let me stay strapped in to see if “passive” is as literal as one would expect alt!Callie to mean, or it just means “an active class passive compared to other classes”. And, serving the aspect? Oh dammit, now people are gonna come at me advocating a Maid / Page dichotomy about actively serving the aspect versus allowing the aspect to be served... or Page / Maid even, jesus

I wish I had enough energy to have those chats anymore. I’d rather hold on and see the whole ridiculous chart scheme they have in mind... which is definitely (and hopefully) the one Andrew really drew up at the time and not made up by the staff, even if it throws away plenty of my old work... I’ll just stop thinking about it and keep reading.

...

--no, I don’t think I can just stop thinking about it yet. Dammit, brain.

So um. Maids serving their aspect. There was a whole “Maids serve” thing going on throughout the whole plot of Homestuck, but despite how prevalent it was, I wrote it off as the story riffing on the classical definition of Maid when the actual stuff Maids accomplished was something different and more specific, just like Knights constantly got riffed on for chivalry and the like. Furthermore, service seemed like a really shitty class definition, when class definitions are the verbs one uses to interact with reality through Aspects to change the way reality unfolds, and “serving” isn’t really an action that results in change, implying a distinct deficit of agency that I wouldn’t have viewed as fair. (Especially since you originally think “meant to serve others” and not “meant to serve the aspect”, implying even LESS agency.) Furthermore, MOST passive classes from their descriptions seem to have a propensity to act “as if by the will of the aspect”, so even with the nuance of “serving the aspect”, devoting an entire class verb to service would just step on the territory of other active/passive class pairs’ passive sides, right?

But... IF we were to take this for granted as what it SEEMS... then concentrating on that angle of “serving the aspect” implies a whole lot more agency than a service class might sound on its surface. The definition fits with the story better once you contextualize all the Maid-y references to service around Jane, for instance, with the additional idea of “serving Life” by baking prolifically and creating more of its symbols in food and--

--fuck. “Serving”, like serving to others. Serving the aspect as its attendant AND serving it out to others that need it. Maybe this still IS part of the Additive class pair! Whoa. :O

Okay okay so, what I/we thought before was:

Create/Add - Maid / Sylph

Destroy/Reduce - Prince / Bard

But “additive” really isn’t an elegant verb compared to the “Destroyer” classes, so... could it be the “Servants” and the “Destroyers”? Like Maids cleaning up and healing the broken wreckage strewn through the halls by a bratty Prince’s tantrum???

It’d certainly be weird... and it’d CERTAINLY be a wild twist where I was partially wrong in some fascinating ways but not entirely off base?

One a passive but powerful servant to time, the other wielding the aspect like a honed blade.

And yet, I can’t bet on this being the situation yet; not at all. First, it relies on the idea that alt!Callie’s explicit narrative here is slightly misleading, which would be a pretty extreme thing to commit to, even for a technical truth like “she was saying it was passive relative to other classes even though it’s technically “active””. Second... it would mean that Muses are even more wildly defined than the previous insinuation of hers, that the Sylph -- what we thought was the passive additive class -- was not enough like a Muse compared to a Witch. Muses not being that Additive? I could grudgingly understand that, but Muses not being anything like passive Servants?! That would be EXTREMELY weird!

So... there’s not a whole lot of chance that I’m not dramatically wrong somewhere about these classes! In a way that throws the entire chart into disarray!

I’m... oddly excited? Huh.

That’s a pretty nice surprise that I actually feel that way.

(Don’t hit me up all at once to discuss this Classpect development over Discord, I’ll still need a few days without talking about Homestuck to recharge as usual. Like... maybe wait and come at me as a group chat? So I’m not talking about the latest developments separately with everyone? No that wouldn’t work, how about... guh I dunno, look my outlook’s a little more positive right now but dealing with Homestuck still takes emotional energy okay?)

Okay the rest of this page...

ARADIA: ... DAVEBOT: time then make a weird face ARADIA: ........ DAVEBOT: waste time DAVEBOT: time ARADIA:............. DAVEBOT: i experience all points of time simultaneously please just say time and make a weird face

This is true.

ARADIA: .................. DAVEBOT: cmon megido youre killing me clocks ticking ARADIA: ... ARADIA: time o_o

The Maid casts a furtive glance around the empty crew quarters, as though to search for someone more sympathetic to her bit.

ARADIA: tough crowd

Dorks.

> ==>

(Lazy fruit-throwing sword-training I won’t bother to screenshot but looks fun)

(I mean, really lazy looking, these people really don’t have Andrew’s knack for action composition that would make the same amount of gif-creation effort feel like a microcosm of the event they’re depicting, unfortunately. Again, I don’t blame them; Andrew was just too good at it.)

DAVEBOT: ok heres one DAVEBOT: how old do you think you are ARADIA: emotionally? ARADIA: that is a pretty heavy topic DAVEBOT: you know damn well thats not what i meant ARADIA: you know I have been through a lot dave DAVEBOT: ok ARADIA: its just so kind of someone DAVEBOT: ok i get it ARADIA: to finally ask how i feel ARADIA: i am beside myself with emotions ARADIA: i want to open up DAVEBOT: jesus christ ARADIA: shall i open up about my past traumas to you ARADIA: would you enjoy that ARADIA: to think even a frog like me can work through their pain with a dear friend ARADIA: you have truly blessed me on this day dave strider

Is Aradia JUST trolling here or is her Ultimate Self grappling with a ton of real unresolved trauma too that she’s bullshitting around Dave-style?

DAVEBOT: times fun when youre having flies

Okay that’s a damned good frog pun.

Alright now Davebot’s rapping

DAVEBOT: lacking tact i stay stacked while i breach contract DAVEBOT: sacred vows disavowed got divorce fever DAVEBOT: i leave her DAVEBOT: dont look back dont perceive her ARADIA: do you want to talk about it :( DAVEBOT: about what ARADIA: would you say you are hung up on leaving your wife and friends behind

Goddamnit is DAVE’S ton of real unresolved trauma leaking into his raps unintentionally Dave-style?? I knew we had to address it when we cut to Davebot but how about LESS TRAGEDY IN THIS COMIC MAYBE

DAVEBOT: arent you even a little guilty about ditching your boyfriend ARADIA: what ARADIA: oh fuck

But she knew what she was doing when she did it she explicitly did it didn’t she? Epilogues quote:

DAVEBOT: what about your boy DAVEBOT: eyepatches ARADIA: oh sollux is in one of his moods ARADIA: this was all getting to be a bit much for him ARADIA: if i go ill probably just cut him loose DAVEBOT: good move

And then they stepped through the sky hole more or less. Did like, distracted Ultimate Aradia not realize exactly how long she was leaving Sollux for, ie forever? Or did she “ascend” to Ultimate status later and hadn’t thought back to the full consequences of her actions within this timeline? Or both? From the looks of the link we’ll probably find out on the next pa--

--Wait. Something else I just thought of, unrelated.

If Aradia is an Ultimate Self, that’s another coincidentally Ultimate version of someone hanging around that happens to be on the prospective list of Soul-Powered Jujus that might have their creation loops closed in the coming story. Could those two things play into each other somehow? Like instead of their souls getting stuffed into the items, their “Ultimateness” is? Or as if that’s a necessary component, or... no, I’m probably overthinking things.

> (Months in the past, but not many...)

Uh huh. Is that flashing because he’s “watching” Aradia leave? But I thought Aradia SAID she was leaving--

> (==>)

--and that black hole portal doesn’t look as cool as it sounded in the Epilogues. But why was Aradia acting surprised, she said “I’ll probably just cut him loose” mere MOMENTS before entering the portal, did she mean “cut him loose” as in “I’m going to talk to him before leaving” and then just IMMEDIATELY forget that she didn’t say anything to him because she cared so little???

Wait. Waaaait wait wait. I think. I think maybe I missed some subtext. Lemme do some fuller quotes here:

ARADIA: oh sollux is in one of his moods ARADIA: this was all getting to be a bit much for him ARADIA: if i go ill probably just cut him loose DAVEBOT: good move

His gaze remains fixed on her. She blinks and looks away, unsure what to say next. He’s standing perfectly still, presumably waiting for her to say something. She met him... what was it? Once, twice before? She can’t remember. But she knows this is a very different Dave. Aside from the metal skin, he seems implacably confident. But then, people go through changes. She’s been through more than her share. She cocks an eyebrow, recalling her own stint with a metal body.

DAVEBOT: hey earth to whats your face ARADIA: oh ARADIA: its aradia

[...]

DAVEBOT: youre coming DAVEBOT: better decide quick i doubt that dank fuckin hell funnel is staying open for much longer ARADIA: yes i suppose so ARADIA: thats where all the action is right? DAVEBOT: all the action that matters yeah ARADIA: off we go then :) DAVEBOT: word

He holds out his hand. She looks around, and assumes he means for her to take it, so she does. She didn’t know someone could fly this fast. He nearly yanks her arm out of its socket. She considers reminding him that maybe this isn’t necessary, since she can fly too. But she doesn’t want to risk saying more embarrassing stuff around this outrageously cool dude. Besides, they’re through the wormhole before she can even finish the thought. It vanishes the moment they’ve crossed.

...this was a SHIPPING thing wasn’t it. She’s impressed as hell with Striderbot, she SAID she’d cut things off with Sollux, and then she was so busy being swooped off her feet and into the portal that she forgot to actually say anything to him. Is that what happened????

Ultimate Self Davebot x Ultimate Self Aradia. Huh. Didn’t see that coming. (Though, again... they could make it SLIGHTLY clearer that this wasn’t just a blatant continuity error.)

Anyway, a rare-don’t-get-used-to-it [S] page...

> [S] (Gaze.)

...Okay that was kinda funny.

> (==>)

SOLLUX: h0w the fuck am i g0ing t0 get d0wn fr0m here.

HAH! Okay, he’s taking it pretty well. :) --and THAT’s what she realized she forgot, giving him a flight down from the tower before leaving.

GOOD. KEEP THINGS HUMOROUS EVEN WHEN LITERAL ABANDONMENT IS HAPPENING. THAT’S the Homestuck I was missing. :) :) :)

> Back to reality.

(Since the black hole is outside “canon” reality.)

Those are some cool poses-AHAH JESUS CHRIST ALT!JADE YOU LOOK ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING XD

COULD YOU MAYBE HAVE CLEANED UP THE DRIED BLOOD AT SOME POINT OR IS SOME OF THAT FRESH FROM EATING MORE RAW MEAT

(Lord English’s blood leaving permanent timeless bloodstains would be a cool new thing to squeeze into canon i admit, i wouldn’t blame them for taking the excuse even if you could find small canon counterexamples I’m not sure of but dimly think might exist)

((ALSO SHE’S GONNA BE TINY NEXT TO THEM I DUNNO IF THAT MAKES IT MORE TERRIFYING OR LESS, PROBABLY MORE))

DAVEBOT: so youre telling me you dont even feel a little bad that you ditched him to be a weird death acolyte ARADIA: no i think he found my wiles both charming and irresistible DAVEBOT: not even an ounce of guilt or self doubt huh DAVEBOT: just like that DAVEBOT: no conversations about the greater good DAVEBOT: no revelations about your feelings

Is Aradia a jerk or weird? Can’t decide.

ARADIA: do you often find your faith in yourself shaken like this or is it a new experience now that your mortal coil has been left behind DAVEBOT: what ARADIA: do you think now that all that is left of you is a literal ghost inside of a machine you are more or less likely to embrace finality DAVEBOT: oh dope more cult of one shit DAVEBOT: immortality changed you ARADIA: could it be that you are projecting your feelings onto my situation DAVEBOT: does not compute rose jr ARADIA: ... ARADIA: we dont have to talk about it DAVEBOT: thanks

Wow, I actually can’t follow this conversation at all. Let me stare at it for a sec...

...okay, the first part she’s talking about DAVE’s faith in HIMself being shaken, not her own. She’s not asking if he relates to HER experience, she’s contrasting it.

Then, asking if he’d be more likely to embrace death, or... Time? Death. Whether his self-worth has changed because he might view himself as “less real”, something Aradia doubtless struggled with when she was a robot who already had so many excuses to devalue herself at the time? And then Dave talks about “cult of one” shit what does that even mean-...

OH. Like she’s a death cult. Gooot it. Because Aradia’s of the position that death and ending should be celebrated, and Davebot understandably isn’t entirely bought in. This is as hard to parse down as one would EXPECT conversations between two Ultimate Selves to be hard to parse down, unlike Rose and Dirk where their insane missions and glaring flaws shine bright enough through it all that you can follow their conversation flow easily.

JADE: They sit in each other's presence, the silence between them as meaningful as any words they could exchange. DAVEBOT: its always really cool to hear how meaningful my silences are DAVEBOT: especially while DAVEBOT: CALCULATING DAVEBOT: CALCULATING DAVEBOT: especially while i am attempting to experience them

Alt!Callie pulling a narrative-text AFTER a talk-identifier like “JADE:” is really hilarious in my opinion.

JADE: i do not need your approval. the story will continue how it must. DAVEBOT: beep boop hater detected ARADIA: wow is that true JADE: i am not a hater. DAVEBOT: classic hater line DAVEBOT: i know this because i am pouring through genuine actual quadrabytes of information on historys most notorious haters JADE: no, you aren’t.

Pffffff. This is pretty fun.

DAVEBOT: you are the exact opposite of a hater ARADIA: a liker DAVEBOT: ok DAVEBOT: perfect example your tolerance for whatever is going on with DAVEBOT: all this ARADIA: i think she looks quite lovely covered in the viscera of the all-powerful enemy she consumed ARADIA: floating lifelessly in our periphery ARADIA: observing our every action and noting its relevance :) DAVEBOT: uh huh thats what i mean

I was gonna note “liker” as additive for pointless classpect purposes, but really more quoting it just because I really enjoy this conversation. I’m starting to get sold on the chemistry of these two a lot faster than I expected.

JADE: even though I understand that it must happen, i am growing frustrated with the direction of this conversation. DAVEBOT: do you want to talk about something else stinky JADE: what would you suggest?

How long has that dried fucking blood been on her

DAVEBOT: ok hear me out DAVEBOT: kanaya DAVEBOT: but like DAVEBOT: wearing huge jorts

That explains Homestuck’s twitter earlier

> Weeks in the future, relative to the original point of interest...

Wait wait which point of interest? This time we were just viewing? *click*

I love what must be this shitty imagination-ship they’re using to cross the substrate of reality

> ==>

Whoaaaa. So they DIDN’T stay in those outfits for long? It showed them in a bunk bed earlier, it showed CallieJade still going around blood-covered afterward-- dammit, I’m having a hard time gauging exactly how much time is supposed to have passed between their entry into the black portal, their earlier conversation, and this moment. And as likely as some are to call this poor scene composition, I can’t think it’s anything but intentional, given we’re dealing with a couple of Ultimate Time players bullshitting with each other.

Moments like these are not rare, and serve a valuable function to the story. They are able to show a passage of time with the bulk of the emotional labor of a lengthy bonding process happening off screen. How did we get here? What have they been through? These questions are often better left open to individual interpretation and can give the one interpreting a sense of ownership of the story.

See? We’re being trolled is why. (Even if the authors are pulling the trick Alt!Callie describes maybe a little too damn often, because a cut like this where we’re supposed to fill in the emotional gaps and intervening events ourselves as readers depends on readers’ faith that sensible events and decisions for these characters would OCCUPY the gaps, as if readers don’t have faith that what intervenes WOULD make sense to their understanding of the characters the way the authors are writing them... it just seems like an excuse to do whatever you want without adequately explaining yourself, when in reality if you’d spelled out the events that led to it we’d all cry foul at the mischaracterization.)

...okay, maybe I’m a BIT bitter. Sorry. Where were we?

JADE: As a point of curiosity- ARADIA: oh shit!!!!

The dead Cherub possessing the body of an equally deceased Goddess of Space pauses at the interruption.

She doesn’t talk much, then? Too busy doing whatever talking you’d do as your other possessed Jade body? Just how temporally related is you controlling THIS Jade compared to when you were controlling the other? When that Jade pegged you as enjoying contact with friends, are these two just not enough for you, or did you “experience” the trips entirely separately? I don’t THINK the alt!Callie possessing either Jade is a separate entity from the other, but...

Were she to voice her opinion, it would be that --actually-- it is not unusual for those whose primary concern is The Grander Scheme to have a passing curiosity about the insignificant. So when one really thinks about it, any annoyance with the attendant’s small mindedness is both understandable and warranted.

She pissed

...also, “the attendant”. Even if “serve” is really the verb here, that phrasing really irks me as if she’s talking down to her. Which, I mean, makes sense for alt!Callie’s character, but doesn’t make me feel better about this new definition being foisted on us.

ARADIA: :( JADE: as a point of order, you never answered dave’s question. ARADIA: which one he is very chatty JADE: you experience time in a way that is woefully unfamiliar to me and it has... piqued my curiosity enough to learn more. ARADIA: ?_? DAVEBOT: shes asking how old you are

Wait a minute, is Alt!Callie asking a question about a dropped topic from WEEKS ago?! And is Davebot so in touch with Time and the meta ordering of topics that he actually CAUGHT ON that fast to what she was actually wondering about?????

This is getting more disorienting by the minute.

ARADIA: in this form our bodies stop aging once we reach maturity i think ARADIA: the god tier keeps our physical form locked in a state of undying ARADIA: even in death the bodies do not decay ARADIA: only lay dormant

THAT LAST PART IS FUCKING IMPORTANT. It’s being brought up intentionally to tell us that JOHN’S DEAD BODY can still be in the wallet Terezi’s carrying around RIGHT NOW without having decayed over the past years. I remember remarking in SOME previous HS^2 liveblog post of mine that I was alarmed by the decay that would have happened there (can’t find my remark on short notice and don’t really care to), so this explicitly dismisses it so we won’t be surprised by the fact that she could keep it in just-dead condition.

DAVEBOT: like how long have you been alive JADE: yes, that one.

[...]

ARADIA: oh maybe a few hundred years or so DAVEBOT: what JADE: what? ARADIA: well if i had known you were going to be so judgy about it DAVEBOT: when did this happen ARADIA: oh i spent some time in other doomed realities and timelines and came back before anybody could tell i was gone

Hm!

We knew she spent a LONG time in the dream bubbles, enough to talk to “pretty much all of the Nepetas”, but she was actually able to access a universe or universes and hop between them? That’s not something any time traveller we’ve seen has been explicitly able to do intentionally before, quite like she’s describing.

DAVEBOT: oh just out for a bit of fun then DAVEBOT: just hopped on over to a different reality DAVEBOT: real casual like DAVEBOT: oh hello dont mind me just popping in to see if it really is as doomed as they say it is DAVEBOT: did not disappoint ARADIA: yes almost exactly like that :) DAVEBOT: who did you hang out with are they cooler than me ARADIA: it is complicated to explain DAVEBOT: oh ok nevermind then DAVEBOT: all clear

Yep, he’s kinda bewildered. Is this Pesterquest stuff she’s referring to? Did she stop by Pesterquest?

DAVEBOT: a whole alternate universe ripe with the coolest motherfuckers imaginable ARADIA: you were there too i threw your air conditioner into the sun DAVEBOT: wow thats fucked up DAVEBOT: thats not where that goes at all JADE: these events are not-canonical. ARADIA: rude

Ah! Yeah, almost certainly Pesterquest. (Still haven’t played that and have little inclination to now that I’m more sure we aren’t being gaslit with intentional continuity errors, just disappointed by actual continuity errors.) Oh! And that makes a bit more sense because I imagine that’s Black Hole territory, and that territory outside of Canon seems pretty rich and easy for time-travellers to hop between stories and timelines willy-nilly. As they’re apt to in fanfics, which is the most appropriate way for things to be in that realm!

DAVEBOT: is that the trope of being hundreds of years old but looking young forever patently sucks ass DAVEBOT: a plot device an asshole would write ARADIA: :( JADE: that is not what i am trying to say at all. DAVEBOT: hmm wow yeah thatd really be a sort of pot/kettle situation i guess DAVEBOT: i cant believe im the only woke one here DAVEBOT: its hard being such a visionary AND such a fine metallic specimen DAVEBOT: but im an altruist first and fucking foremost ARADIA: so selfless JADE: yes, the greater narrative is truly blessed by your beneficent presence. DAVEBOT: oh so you got jokes now huh JADE: i have always had the ‘jokes’ of which you speak, but i have heretofore exercised restraint in laying you low. JADE: i possess knowledge of many of your iterations, as the scope of my powers allows me to exist in several narrative structures at once. DAVEBOT: but can she see why kids love the sweet cinnamon taste of cinnamon toast crunch JADE: i do not know, or care, what that means. ARADIA: neither do i :)

I’m actually really enjoying this conversation

JADE: its cultural significance to you as an earthling is wasted on the two of us entirely, as we have not conflated the misguided notion of clinging to nostalgic cereal advertisement trivia with socially relevant conversation.

Pff she literally checked her meta notes just now to learn what the cereal ads were after admitting she didn’t know what it meant and pretending not to care

> ==>

Oh, closer look at Davebot. Are those actual SHAPED shades over his robotic eye bulges? Weird, I thought it was just a lazy line drawn between them with red sharpie at first, Sans style. That would’ve been funny.

> ==>

Ohh, I get it. I was gonna say that was an unwarranted reaction... but he just realized that the Time-wait puns will be coming from BOTH his shipmates from now on. That’s gotta be a downer. :)

> ==>

HOLY

FUCKING

SHIT

IS ALT-CALLIE LAUGHING!??!?!?!??

That’s REALLY, REALLY GOOD!!! SHE’S ALREADY LAUGHING OCCASIONALLY THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY

“BEST NARRATOR” COFFEE CUP

SHE’S ADORABLE

> ==>

Ah, was that Jade kicking you out? Or just the multiverse punishing you for being briefly happy :(

--oh, end of the update. Guess that’s it for now!

...

Alright I know I’m A BIT BEHIND on covering the HS2 commentary,

But

I really would rather wait on that a bit longer if that’s alright. Real busy and stressful week or two. (Found out my hair is starting to thin noticeably at age 31! Quite suddenly, too. Blood test looks fine so it’s nothing serious... gonna see a doctor to check if anything can be safely done about that, it’s really hurting my self-esteem more than I thought it would. Didn’t think it would hit my emotions that hard when it eventually happened, knew it was likely but not so SOON... really messing with my anxiety every time I accidentally touch my hair, now. I’ll deal with it.)

If I sound really aimless in this post, I think it’s cause I am? My mental and emotional energy’s REALLY drained. I’m glad that June/July break in HS^2 happened when it did, and I’m definitely glad there’s apparently plenty in HS^2 I can really enjoy, if this update is anything to go by. Maybe this comic can help lift me up instead of knocking me down. :)

See y’all later! More Patreon commentary blogging catchup after some other upd8.

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #Homestuck Theories #Homestuck Theory #spoiler #spoilers #Classes and Aspects #Space and Time #Aradia

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mst3kproject · 6 years ago

Photo

620: Danger!! Death Ray

Buppa-duppa-da-dah… ba-dup-dup-dadda-da-dah! Yes indeed, while Radar Secret Service’s distinguishing feature was a lack of distinguishing features (honestly, it lacked features, period), Danger!! Death Ray’s is the second most persistent earworm in the MST3K canon. Only the Sad Mushroom Ukulele Anthem is worse. I guarantee you that Buppa-Duppa-Da-Dah will be the soundtrack to all our inner monologues for the next week – complete with Tom Servo going “wait for it… ting!” every time.

Radiation expert Dr. Carmichael has invented a Death Ray, which he shows to the UN on condition it be used only in the interests of world peace. At the summit in disguise are agents of the international arms dealer known as Scarface. They kidnap Carmichael and steal the Death Ray, and take them away to be used for nefarious and non-world-peaceful purposes! Elsewhere, the CIA or somebody drags agent Bart Fargo out of bed to put him on the case. He follows Scarface’s toy submarine to Barcelona, where the Death Ray is turned over to the mysterious Mr. Carver. It’s up to Fargo to find Carver before he can put his ill-defined plans for Carmichael and the Ray into action!

I don’t want to believe this movie was actually filmed in Barcelona. Barcelona is famous for its art and for architecture ranging from the Gothic to the Art Nouveau, which make it one of Europe’s most popular tourist destinations. Danger!! Death Ray makes the city look like a suburb of Detroit. That’s actually kind of impressive in a very perverse way. It’s as if they filmed in the Vatican and lit Michelangelo’s Pieta to make it look like a pile of elephant dung – yeah, it’s kind of amazing that they managed that, but… why? If your point is that even the world’s most beautiful cities have a seedy underbelly, then you still need to show us the pretty parts for contrast. If you actually can’t afford to go to Barcelona, that’s why stock footage exists.

At ninety-three minutes, the movie is a bit too long for its own good, and very little of what MST3K cut has any real effect on the plot – the beginning is particularly padding-heavy. Those of us who only know Danger!! Death Ray through the Satellite of Love missed the opening bit where the bad guys ambush the car taking delegates to NATO and take their places, but even in the bit we saw the opening drags. There’s the extended sequence of driving in the dark that serves no purpose except having credits over it, and then the whole bit with guys in suits walking through wherever the hell they are to get to the Death Ray lecture room. Surely the driving could have been cut down a bit and the credits extended into the White Guys Walking in Herds, to save some time and patience! The movie never again gets that slow but later chase or stalking sequences all go on a little too long, and there’s no reason to see as much as we did of things like the dancers at the restaurant (instead of seeing, for example, the nice parts of Barcelona).

The hero of Danger!! Death Ray is Secret Agent Bart Fargo, played by a guy named Gordon Scott who spent most of his career playing Tarzan or Maciste. We’ve already seen him in the Episodes that Never Were, in Goliath and the Vampires. Fargo’s got a lot in common with Brian Cooper of Secret Agent Super Dragon, and all of it is the stuff I spent that review complaining about: he’s introduced to us in bed, and he goes right back to bed with practically every woman who crosses his path.

In terms of establishing him as a glamorous secret agent, Fargo’s introduction is actually worse than Cooper’s. Cooper, meditating by his pool, was at least establishing that he can hold his breath for a long time, which comes in handy later when the bad guys nail him into a coffin and throw him in a river. Fargo is literally in bed, supposedly on vacation, and gets scared awake by two women who just walk right into his hotel room. Our hero, right here. Then, like Cooper complaining that he’s retired now, Fargo’s response to being told to save the world is that he doesn’t wanna, he’s supposed to be on vacation. I think we’re meant to assume that the UN demanded the best to retrieve Carmichael and his peace-loving death ray, but Fargo was going to Toshi Station to pick up some power converters, damn it!

Was this a thing in the sixties? Secret agents who would rather stay in bed? If so, why was it a thing? Is it supposed to make him relatable? I know I would rather stay in bed some days, but that’s probably why I’m not in charge of saving the world from guys with Death Rays.

In the man-slut category, Fargo is even more than a turd about it than Cooper because unlike Cooper, Fargo already has a steady girlfriend. He’s seeing his boss’ secretary, Roberta, and has promised her a trip to Majorca. In Barcelona, however, he is immediately captivated by Lucia, an artist who sits around painting female nudes while wearing very few clothes herself. I dunno about you guys, but if I met a woman who did that I would probably assume she’s not into the whole ‘heterosexuality’ thing. Then again, she asks him out, so I guess what’s actually going on here is the writers just thought it was hot. Fargo and Lucia hit it off spectacularly, but then a blonde he met on the plane turns up at his door and he immediately takes her to bed despite the sign around her neck that says ENEMY AGENT. Then in the closing scene, Roberta (remember her?) is trying to contact Fargo on his radio wristwatch, reminding him about that trip to Majorca, and he takes the watch off and throws it in the pool before running off with Lucia! Not even an I think we should see other people. What a prick!

At least nobody ever ties our hero into a death trap. When these bad guys want to kill Fargo, they use actual knives, guns, and other things that do not allow him more than half a second to think and get out of the way. The Society of Halfway Smart Villains approves.

All right, so besides Glamorous Secret Agent tropes, what else is going on in this movie? Does Danger!! Death Ray have anything much to say? Surprisingly, it kind of does. The very existence of the titular weapon seems to be trying to tell us something about the nuclear arms race. If you listen to Dr. Carmichael’s presentation to the NATO guys without the riffing, he explains what he means when he says he created a Death Ray to ensure world peace: it’s intended as a deterrent – nobody will dare to start a war if they know they might be Death Rayed for it! This was the justification for the arms race throughout the cold war, and it worked for the major powers, I guess. They got to live in relative peace while making smaller, less prosperous states do all the fighting and suffering for them.

The existence of a Death Ray probably wouldn’t change that, but Danger!! Death Ray isn’t really interested in that problem with the arms race. It’s interested in the other difficulty that periodically dogs our nuclear-armed world: sooner or later one of those doomsday weapons is going to get into the hands of somebody with insufficient understanding of the consequences, who might actually use the damn thing. The movie demonstrates that Carver is in this category by having him threaten Lucia and Fargo with the ray, which is completely overpowered for the purpose – a handgun would do fine. Of course unwise use of his weapon of mass destruction bites Carver in the ass, but only a little – he realizes that his burning a hole in the door of his secret torture dungeon is the only reason Fargo was able to get in. This isn’t the most emphatic way for the movie to make its point, but if they couldn’t afford to show us Barcelona then they definitely couldn’t afford to Death Ray the Sagrada Familia, so I guess they used what they had.

There appears to be a second, lesser motif going on as well, and that’s to do with the idea of watchfulness. At the beginning of the movie, when the Death Ray is stolen, it is removed from a compound full of security cameras – at the end, when it is recaptured, it is taken from a villa where the security cameras have guns. In both cases we see a guy watching a bank of tv screens, panicking as he tries to do something about the developing situation but ultimately unable to prevent catastrophe. This seems to be an earnest attempt to bookend the movie, and what I think it’s trying to say is that watchfulness is not enough. In both scenes, the guy looking at the monitors is powerless to act. The NATO guy is shot and help arrives too late to save him or the Death Ray. Carver does slightly better in that he can shoot at what he sees, but he cannot aim, and the more mobile Fargo takes his cameras out one after the other. High-tech security is all very well, but no match for actual people.

As you can probably guess, I’m not sure if any of this were intentional or whether I’m just reading it in. It’s possible that the writers just thought Death Rays and security cameras with built-in machine guns were really cool. I mean, we are talking about a movie in which an assassin hurls himself at the hero only to go flying right out a window, and the movie treats it as a narrow escape instead of a moment of slapstick comedy. God, I love that bit. Even without Mike and the bots I laugh every time.

Danger!! Death Ray is basically just another crappy EuroSpy movie, but it’s a better crappy EuroSpy movie than Secret Agent Super Dragon… in fact, when I think back on the other installments, it may just be the best of MST3K’s crappy EuroSpy movies, but I feel like it’s too early to make that judgment for sure. I need to see the rest of them before I bring the gavel down. It definitely has the catchiest theme song, though – buppa-duppa-da-da-da-dah!

#mst3k #reviews #danger!! death ray #60s

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seenashwrite · 7 years ago

Note

(1/2)I've completely lost my ability to focus right now, except for hearing Dean saying, "You're awesome, sweetheart," on a loop. I've reread your many treatises on the subject, finally finding the one where someone asked you, "If not sweetheart, then what?" You seemed to believe that he would use "baby" or "sweetiepie" because of his love of his car and pie. I would object to both of these, because I believe that, for him, both Baby and Pie are proper names. (Brother and Angel similarly so, but

Cursing my name? For reals!?

Nah, I kid. I know it’s not hate. And I do apologize, RE: that first part - I obviously was not clear, that’s on me. ‘Cause those ain’t my recommendations. Noooo.

I wanted to convey that it was interesting to me how, putting aside that he only uses “sweetheart” sincerely for Baby & Colt, even if he was using it as an endearment for, um, living things of a twue lurve nature, well….

Dude don’t use it all that often. Not when we compare it to things he no doubt, balls-to-the-wall loves, such as the Impala and pie [and alcohol, but “my lil’ whiskey sour” don’t quite do it for tinglin’ the nethers]. Thus, it got a raised eyebrow from me, how people don’t seem to have the knee-jerk of “sweetiepie” or “babydoll”, derivatives of things he does talk about/refer to adoringly on the reg. Tell me if that’s not making sense, I’ll work on phrasing it better.

Now, having said that - imagining either of those coming out of Dean’s mouth makes me wanna throw up, go eat, throw that up, then mainline Pepto so I can do it all over again til the thought is purged from my person.

All right. Let’s build a profile on Dean’s behavior & verbiage with legitimate love interests, based on what we know from canon, then see if we can’t drill down on a plausible nickname or two.

On an aside, I titled the document containing the draft of what’s below “Endeanments” and I hate myself.

Here’s how this breaks down in my head, so that’s how it’s laid out below. Should the Mrs. or anyone reading this wanna skip ahead, you do you. Scroll til you see the heading.

I. Thing Of The First: What Do We Want & What Do We KnowII. Which Romantic Interests Do We Focus On?III. What Are We Looking For & When We Find It, What Do We Do?IV. What Else Do We Have At Our Disposal To Flesh Out Our Profile Of “Dean In Love"’s Verbiage?V. Thing Of The Second: Nash On Nicknames/Endearments For Unnamed Characters - A.K.A.: Where I’m coming from on this, just so’s y’all can do the whole “Consider the source” thingVI. What Has Worked In The Nashhole Writing RoomVII. Thoughts On The Examples Given In The Ask VIII. Nash’s Three Key Pieces Of Advice For Pulling This Off

And Before We Get Cranking, RE: That Other Post

So here’s the meat & potatoes of what I said when somebody asked my thoughts on what Dean would use as a genuine term of endearment:

I’d bet money that for the actual contenders [both the ones I haven’t yet researched & the nonexistents/potential true loves/soulmates/blahblahblahs], they’d most assuredly be friends first, they will not be a hunter [not a hunter proper, at least, though knowledge of is not a deal-breaker], and any endearment is gonna be something that’s a riff on their name [a la “Sammy” or “Cas”] or related to a specific situation….. she knocks over the sugar bowl, so she’s “Sugar” until enough glares shut that shit down…. things like that.

I. Thing Of The First: What Do We Want & What Do We Know

This whole shebang is based upon the premise that an author gives a shit about accurate characterization of Dean within the context of a legit romantic relationship.

We gotta have a profile in mind regarding the broad strokes of what this chick would be like if our writing of his behavior/the things he says - such as, ta-da! an endearment - is gonna ring true.

All we can know is what’s in canon, and bless the wiki and all their transcripts because no one has to re-watch all the seasons to answer this. #hallelujah

II. Which Romantic Interests Do We Focus On?

The bed-‘em-and-book-it chicks are ruled out, see above, RE: legit love premise.

In the draft of the answer to the other Q that’s referenced in the Q linked above, I have it fleshed out more than I do here - although it’s not completely episode/quote-by-quote sourced - so if y'all wanna know the reasoning behind why I deem these four and only these four ladies of the “legit, Dean was really into them/this had the potential for true love” category, I can share it, but I can’t promise when.

I have no idea if he had an endearment for any or all of these ladies, is my point, y'all feel free to do the deep dive in that respect,

----> ETA later: We did the deep dive. He called Lisa “Honey” when she was dying; unrelated but kind’ve, when he was pretending to be Bela’s husband and she fake-choked on shellfish (also “dying”), he called her “Honey”, too. There ya go.

I stand by these chosen few and the order in which I’ve placed them, the reasons why have to do with character autopsies I do/have done for my big story, ergo would have to be another post or fourteen. Moving on.

Here’s my ranking for “Legit, Dean Totes Felt Something” characters:

4. Jo3. Cassie2. Lisa1. Carmen

All of these ladies, no matter if nothing ever got off the ground [Jo] to the what-might-have-been [Cassie] to the long-term relationship [Lisa] to the dream ideal [Carmen] have some stark, can’t-miss-‘em, key characteristics in common [intelligent, mature, value family, etc.] but I won’t go into that here.

They’re as solid a guide as we’ve got right now, and not just for doing this nickname postulation exercise - I’d also recommend peeps who wanna reeeeeally drill down on an O/C love for Dean to utilize these characters as a jumping off point. R/Is are, of course, going to be [::coughs:: should be] more nebulous in their attributes.

Take home message is that he had a great deal of respect for all of them, so anything that would have to depend on tone because it walks a fine line, you may wanna axe it from the list as an everyday sub for their name.

III. What Are We Looking For & When We Find It, What Do We Do?

You are looking for any nicknames/endearments he assigned to them.

If he did use an endearment with them, do the following:

(1) Which of those 4 is your Dean love interest most like?

(2) Picture Dean calling your character whatever endearment he called them

(3) How’d that work out for you?

And if not, to speculate upon what he would say….. guess what?

(1) Which of those 4 is your Dean love interest most like?

(2) Picture Dean calling them whatever endearment you’ve chosen

(3) How’d that work out for you?

That is your litmus test. Wash, rinse repeat.

IV. What Else Do We Have At Our Disposal To Flesh Out Our Profile Of “Dean In Love"’s Verbiage?

Plenty.

We’ve got the ability to make the profile more robust because of the cooooooooopious amount of evidence on the flip side, what he zeroes in on with the bed-’em-and-book-it type of gal, what his verbiage is like with them, the peeps he doesn’t intend on keeping around for long.

Bonus: that recent ep of what he was like under a love spell. Take what we saw, scale down the intensity, fiddle with it where appropriate - meaning, ‘86 anything that was alike in all the men they charmed, as that isn’t evidence of “Dean In Love” coming to the surface, it’s evidence of the spell’s structure so as to elicit specific behaviors in victims.

Second thing you can look at in terms of nicknaming habits are people for whom he has no romantic inclinations. The easiest cases in point being Sam and Castiel, a.k.a. Sammy and Cas. Off the top of my head, for whatever reason, I recall him calling Gadreel “Zeke” prior to the stolen identity reveal.

So Dean’s a “-y” adder and a name-shortener, consistently with Sam and Castiel, however many times with Ezekiel/Gadreel, and there’s likely more examples, godspeed on that research journey, I ain’t your girl.

I am also 100% - and I know y’all are, too - that he’s a biiiiiiig proponent of situational nicknaming, and while it’s usually snark [think “Batman” for himself, “Harry Potter” for Mick, etc.] it still goes to pattern. I’ve got so many of these in the CASPN decks, it’s unreal, and maaany, possibly most, of them - as noted just now - are TV/movie/music/book-related. [I know this because I’m trying to pull them out as I go to stick them in their own “Deanisms” deck, because if the decks ever go “public” for sale, they can’t have copyrighted content in them]

Again: here we’re looking at a broad stroke in his verbiage, to get a feel of his go-tos, his habits in what he calls others.

V. Thing Of The Second: Nash On Nicknames/Endearments For Unnamed Characters - A.K.A.: Where I’m coming from on this, just so’s y’all can do the whole “Consider the source” thing

I don’t lean into the whole nickname thing. It’s not a purposeful effort, as in, I’m policing myself or when I edit I’m taking them out. It’s just not a reflexive brain-to-keyboard thing for me. I don’t often have characters calling each other by name/nickname/endearment, particularly when it’s just 2 people in a convo, unless it’s a heated convo, a la “DAMMIT NASH!” and “EAT ME, SHITBIRD!”

Longer the fic, trickier this gets. Somebody’s gonna have to address our nameless-faceless protag at some point, and as has been established copiously during my tenure in this fandom, I hope Y/N and her pouty, lip-nibbling, everything-she-does-including-fart-is-done-softly self would die in a fire, ceiling optional, so believe me: I *do* co-sign substitute monikers.

It’s too far to scroll up, here’s what I said about his nicknaming pattern —>

and any endearment is gonna be something that’s a riff on their name [a la “Sammy” or “Cas”] or related to a specific situation….. she knocks over the sugar bowl, so she’s “Sugar” until enough glares shut that shit down…. things like that.

We talked above about him riffing on the person’s name. The situational thing I mentioned - I’ll tell y’all what I did for this, RE: the sticky wicket of when it’s a mini-series/series. [Personally? I think most one-shots can dodge this issue altogether, though certainly YMMV]

VI. What Has Worked In The Nashhole Writing Room

Now, I haaaaated writing the smut thing of mine when I lost a bet, so I plotted it to hell to keep my sanity, and it expanded to 5 g.d. parts. The smut part of it is *riddled* with the tripest tropes that ever troped [part of said bet’s terms], so I’m talking about the story part of it here.

Dean and the protag had a touch-and-go, volatile sitch going on for the bulk of it, ergo chances high due to intense emotions that somebody at some point was gonna have to address each other in at least a tense manner, if not one of anger.

And she was tough as nails, a sniper called in to assist them on a hunt, and she would’ve ended him if he dared call her anything even in the realm of too cutesy-shmoopsy on the reg. It would be in conflict with what I’d built her up to be, bottom line, and likely suck the readers out of the story.

Here’s the dodge I came up with, keeping in mind the situation is she’s a sniper:

“So, we have a decision to make,” Dean said through a partially chewed bite of his burger.

Was he actively trying to be gross? He thankfully swallowed before continuing.

“I’m not in the mood to drive all the way back to Jody’s, then have to share a bed with Sam in her guest room,” Dean began.

Okay. He was talking to me.

“I think the best thing to do is head to the bunker—”

I looked to him, aghast.

“—and we’ve got plenty of room, we can pick up a toothbrush for you when we stop to fill up—”

Did he not notice the big black bulky thing I’d thrown in the back floorboard when they picked me up? I was never not prepared. There was already a toothbrush in my backpack. And a change of clothes.

And a Glock.

“—then we’ll all be fresh daisies, get you home tomorrow. Whaddya say, Snipes?”

Oh god. He’d nicknamed me. Had my letting him win a staring contest actually infused him with enough bravado to try and make friends? Convince me to stay in what Jody had described as essentially a really large basement?

They end up in love - but the sub for her name isn’t lovey-dovey, and it doesn’t have to be, the dynamic between them is vastly more important [more on that later].

In another one in the ol’ draft folder - and it’s not a romantic dynamic, but the nickname dodge happens because she’s unnamed - here’s how that’s gonna work. In an earlier scene, it’s mentioned that Dean was giving her a hard time via the Patsy Cline song “I Fall To Pieces” [spoiler alert: it’s the story based upon THIS thing, you’re smart cookies, you’ll get the reasoning behind it]

And you’d remember. It’s not something you’d forget. I know this because no one else has. Dean still calls me “Cline” - let me rephrase - he bellows it, with glee and snort-laughs, though I suppose there’s worse things to be called. He’s called me those, too, over the years, he doesn’t disappoint. And Sam still narrows his eyes at left my knee, watches my gait for any unevenness or wobbles, and it doesn’t matter what I say, he’ll believe he messed up the articulation til the end of days.

Tangentially-related, in “Build Me Up, Buttercup” - the nutty AU-ish thing that actually started because I was riffing on the sweetheart situation and it mutated - there’s a chunk of conversation between The Woman In Black/The Masked Vampirate/The Apprentice [—-> hint, hint, hint: we *can* refer to folks without using a name/nickname] and Dean on this very topic, of what we call others in lieu of their given names. Mini-spoiler: Even though she’s written 3rd person O/C, and even though she does end up as someone’s love interest, you’re never gonna know her name.

Not spoilers, because these stories are already “out there”, you also never learned/will never learn the names of the chicks in Hello, I’m Gone; The Lore You Know; It; The Once Demon Barber From Robintree; A Delicate Desiccation; The Bell-Watcher’s Daughter; A Fluff By Any Other Name; and who friggin’ knows what-all in the stack of quickies I’ve accumulated.

VII. Thoughts On The Examples Given In The Ask

Back to what you said….. and shit, Imma c/p it here, if anybody’s made it this damn far, I won’t ask they scroll up:

All right, in no particular order, just as things hit me…..

It’s about 7:30 a.m. here in Nashland, this is rotten and off the top of my head, but I could totes picture seeing pumpkin in a Halloween fluff, like - something happens with a pumpkin, it’s dropped or she slices open her hand trying to carve it, is like “[something something] and don’t start calling me pumpkin” and he’s like “Nah…. Punk.” ‘Cause, again - he loves a situational riff & he’s a shortener.

Agreed on princess, I co-sign your gut, he’d say it sneery/as a cut-down on someone who’s afraid to dig in, get a little dirt in the skirt on a hunt or something.

Darlin’ is tricky, because Dean’s not Southern/doesn’t have a drawl unless a touch of Jensen slips out…. and honestly, he’s not got much of an accent from what I’ve heard, though remember that’s going through a Dixieland filter, so consider the source. Might I offer a sub for it? See how “doll” works.

Well, honey’s hitting closer to sounding like him. I’d go “hon”, though, RE: being a shortener. “Hey, hon?” is more casual than “Honey”, and “Honey” also might run the risk of popping a reader back to… [forgive the Rocket inclusion]:

Full quote is “Honey, there ain’t no other men like me.”, but y’all knew that. It’s not on the OH HELL NO list for me, Honey/Hon’s definitely a contender.

But speaking of pinging my “OH HELL NO” radar -

[gasps] Oh, Whoozies…. oh my Whatsis…. sugarplum?

[shakes head vehemently]

* UNLESS* Y/N is a violet-hued fairy in ballet slippers, and they are battling a baby-chomping sentient Nutcracker. But even then, he’d call her ‘Plums.

Sweetie… hmmmm….. you know what might be worth a go? “Sweets”. I could hear “Hey, Sweets” coming out of his mouth. If you could figure a way to make it a lesser of two evils, that’s even better, like…. he pats her on the ass and calls her “sweetcheeks” and she’s all “Oh, but no”, so he downshifts to “sweets”.

“Puddin’“….. erm….. My knee-jerk is no. If it were suuuuper situational, perhaps. I’m drawing a blank on what the situation would be, though, because my mind immediately pops to that episode at the spa…. I just….

I’m hearing it in my mind as if somebody was writing a story where it’s basically a re-hash of that episode - Oh but (tee-hee) this time Y/N got the roofied pudding, and now Dean’s gonna drive her nuts never letting her forget it! Tune in for next week’s episode of Supernatural, guest starring Ordinary McTypical-Chick as Puddin’! [/announcer voice] [cue laugh track], and then I’m all……

Round up on the “Give ‘Er A Try” list:

Honey —> sure why not; “hon” may be better

Sweetie —> ehhhh, probably situational; “sweets” could be worth a try

Pumpkin —-> sooooo situational; and if go there, would 100% roll it into “punk”

Darlin’ —> ehhhh; “doll” suggested sub

….and wasn’t mentioned, but unless it works your personal nerves, from my POV, “babe” doesn’t pull me out of the story if it sneaks into Dean’s dialogue, a la “Hey, babe? You already toss some shells into the trunk?”

Nash’s Three Key Pieces Of Advice For Pulling This Off

1. Who is this person on the receiving end of the nickname - know this, and it’ll narrow down your choices;

2. Do it like Dean: if they have a name, go “-y” or shorten it, or take a situation/circumstance and spin it;

and, possibly the most important -

3. Limit, limit, limit

Make your own parameters for amount of times this is happening in a given piece. I’m just throwing #s - like, = 500 = 0, 501 - 1K = 1, 1.1K - 2.5K = 2, something like that. Take away the pressure of it by making “rules” and you’re free to get your brain back to the story.

Because here it is, y’all - and I’ve said this in other posts - the best thing you can do for yourself or for those you beta is to stop after every scene or paragraph or page or “x” amount of words, whatever your pref is, and ask yourself about what you’ve just read/written:

Who cares? - A.K.A.: Is ____ advancing the plot/the interpersonal dynamics, or not?

Regarding non-nickname stuff: Does it matter that we know about her morning routine? That she had oatmeal because she was out of bagels? The make and model of her car? Her co-workers’ names? Her co-workers at all? What her cat is like? What her cat is named? Her cat at all?

And the same applies here: Does an endearment matter in this particular sentence/moment? I care about the relationships between/amongst the characters, how well they’re grooving with each other [or not], how that weaves together, how it’s integral to the plot, how it impacts the action/the task, how it plays into the climax and resolution [or lack thereof].

Is it ideal to have things coming out of the mouths of the characters we all know ring true? Absolutely. And that’s the other “who cares” here: BIG cares if things that are “un-Dean” creep in. As the adage goes: “When in doubt, don’t”.

So, when stuck on this element, figure out something else to do with the sentence…. and I’d start with 86′ing the nickname. Bet you money most of the time, the message of the sentence will read exactly the same.

You got this.

Thanks for the Q, hope I helped in some fashion and that the curses either wane, or perhaps reach new, interesting heights and volumes, depending on the level of said helpfulness.

#Dear Nash #mrswhozeewhatsis #Let me call you sweetheart #Dean's Dream Gal #and what's in a name #gotta know who they are #and what they're about #and what his normal #patterns are in general #you got this #Nash Advises #Writing Tips #Queueby Dooby Doo #Dad's on a blog post and #he hasn't been queued in a few days #ok fine #Endeanments #why not

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thesublemon · 8 years ago

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Riffing is meaning-mining

I was thinking about Politics and the English Language the other day, which I feel a strange bashfulness about wanting to discuss earnestly, probably because of its AP Language associations. The same way it’s basic to like Spielberg even though Spielberg is quite good, because of the way it indicates that his might be the only movies you’ve ever seen.

I like (and have liked) the essay because while Orwell doesn’t say so in so many words, his criticism of bad writing is essentially that it is insufficiently dense in information. His examples of bad writing are characterized by “staleness of imagery” and “lack of precision. The writer either has a meaning and cannot express it, or he inadvertently says something else, or he is almost indifferent as to whether his words mean anything at all.” The latinate eyesores that Orwell hates are not bad because they are latinate, but because the complexity adds nothing (no information) at best, and is obfuscation at worst. The same reason he dislikes the empty parroting and dogwhistling of political rhetoric even when the language itself is superficially simple. Whereas an original metaphor causes one to make certain leaps in the process of figuring out why that metaphor feels true, according to Orwell a dead one will give you trivial information. "It was raining cats and dogs" might as well have been written: "It was raining hard.” That sort of thing.

I was thinking about Politics and the English Language because I’ve been writing fiction again, and I’ve been (1) remembering my particular stylistic tics and (2) figuring out why I have them. When I decide I want to use a word, instead of simply using the word, I start obsessing about what that word actually says. In the case of “ruminate,” thinking is being compared to the way a cow grazes a field. Because that is the case, I probably wouldn’t use the word “ruminate” but I might describe the character as “a ruminant” or in one way or another suggest the pasture animal imagery. If I described a storm as a “squall” I would probably add something to the sentence to make one actually imagine the abrupt and intense way a toddler cries. Something about taking away pacifiers, I don’t know. Not necessarily reiteration or parallel (a character throwing a tantrum) but some sort of indication that I know and you know what that word means. I have a tendency to go down tangential rabbit holes after trivially using a word (now I’m wondering if I could use glancing off a curve, sines and cosines, three different children’s books about bunnies, or however they get rid of invasive rabbit species). If I use an idiom, I almost always stop and look up its etymology, to see if I can do anything with that. I don’t even like punning, but something about writing fiction suddenly makes me want to pun. The in-joke of the apopheniac.

I’m not saying this instinct is unusual or special. Precision and figuration is pretty much what the art of prose is. I’m also not saying it’s good. It’s hard to do linguistic play without being pedantic or overly clever, and uncontrolled, it’s pretty distracting to read. I delete or disregard about 95% of these urges. But I’m understanding that the antsiness that makes me do it in the first place has to do with never wanting words to do just one thing, especially if that word has a lot of different things that it can do. It’s possible to use a dead or dying metaphor, it’s just a matter of bringing its actual connotations out (even if that connotation is actually the metaphor’s tiredness). Using a whole idiom unironically feels like a lump of flour in a bowl of batter. When I see other people do it, I feel like one of those parents that tells their kids about malnourished third-world bogeyman if they can’t finish a meal. It’s the feeling of wanting to use your chicken carcasses to make stock. Thrift of meaning.

(Of course, a long list of metaphors is the opposite of thrift.)

The instinct to lean into phrases like this reminds me of the way that if you play a note in a jazz solo, especially an off note, it sounds better to play it three times instead of once. You get more mileage out of the “idea” in the note. That’s basically all that riffing is, in any medium, an attempt to suck the last drop of meaning from something. If a comedian generates a lot of jokes out of one situation, it’s often to figure out what is actually funny about that situation. Iterating on a meme reveals several layers of funniness in the meme. I suspect I feel the urge to linguistically riff with fiction in a way that I don’t when writing argument, because while both essays and stories benefit from having both true facts and precise metaphors, they do ultimately convey reality differently. Essays tell it, stories suggest it. Riffing, brainstorming, and play are all about exploration, charting a territory’s true topography in order to ultimately chart it more precisely on the figurative level. The difference between beating a dead horse and autopsying its corpse.

#posts: art

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trendingnewsb · 7 years ago

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Divorce parties are a thing, and you’re going to want one after this week’s ‘You’re the Worst’

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When you’re getting divorced from the man of your nightmares, the only logical course of action is to celebrate with your besties — and when your besties are the dysfunctional deviants of You’re the Worst, there’s a 90 percent chance that said celebration will be a total trainwreck (albeit a trainwreck with great booze and decorations).

The Oct. 18 episode of FXX’s fan-favorite comedy sees Gretchen (Aya Cash) promising to throw Lindsay (Kether Donohue) a divorce party for the ages to celebrate her freedom from Paul (Allan McLeod) — although, naturally, it’s long-suffering Edgar (Desmin Borges) who ends up doing most of the heavy lifting.

And if you’re divorced, the recipient of a bad breakup, or just a person with a suitably dark sense of humor, you’re definitely gonna have party envy when you see the spread for this shindig — even if the guest list leaves a little to be desired.

We spoke to writer and supervising producer Alison Bennett to find out exactly what you need to throw your own rockin’ divorce party (or just a rad You’re the Worst watch party, TBH), that will make you the envy of all your exes.

1. The Decor

Image: FXX

It should come as no surprise that divorce parties are a real thing, and Bennett says she drew on her own life experiences for inspiration when writing the episode.

“I got divorced about two years ago and I did not have a party, but friends definitely were sending me links to some of these products that were featured in the episode. I was actually planning my wedding to my second husband while writing the episode, so between the research of planning a wedding and also having got divorced, I kind of fused those together, threw a little Pinterest in there and that’s how the divorce party was born.”

Customized cake toppers featuring the bride and groom’s likenesses are available online (decapitation optional, probably), and Bennett says a banner declaring “I do, I did, I’m done,” was a Pinterest find.

“‘Cause I figured Lindsay’s not a genius by any stretch of the imagination, so she definitely would be offering ideas that she would have seen other women execute on the internet,” she explains. “Lindsay’s probably one of those people that would end up on one of those Pinterest Fail blogs.”

2. The Drink

Image: fxx

Every good party needs a signature cocktail, and Lindsay’s divorce bash gives us the Mezcalimony, which was apparently the brainchild of writer Shane Kosakowski.

“He’s a master of both drinking and puns. When we were riffing on the episode before I went to script it, he just dropped Mezcalimony and we all lost our minds because the You’re The Worst writers’ room, we’re all big fans of Mezcal.”

The recipe calls for Mezcal (natch), lime juice, watermelon juice, ginger, honey and chili, but “be careful — if you fall in love with this drink, you’ll end up paying for it later,” as the sign warns. (Yes, you’ll be pleased to know that the writers tested it out to make sure it was up to their high standards — for science, obviously.)

“What’s better than Mezcal and drinking and also getting money from somebody else?” Bennett points out. “That’s great. That’s a combination of heaven.”

3. The dress

Image: fxx

When it comes to divorce party essentials, “The top pick is the hot dress,” Bennett says. “Just in case your ex does show up, so you can be like, ‘Look how good I’m having it now.'” Lindsay pairs a low-cut mullet dress with a black veil, fishnets and cat ears, because we all know that hot dresses are her specialty.

4. The crew

Image: fxx

What’s essential to any party? “Lots of girlfriends, who will protect you from making bad rebound hook ups, or encourage you to go in that direction,” Bennett suggests. “Just surround yourself with a lot of supportive women, and a couple of hot dummies who maybe you can hook up with.”

Bennett previews that Lindsay’s divorce party is one small step on a much longer journey of self-discovery in Season 4, although it’ll clearly be a winding road.

“I think by having this renewed sense of independence and getting to have a job and her own place — even though Gretchen’s there farting up the couch for three months of it — she is on this self-reflective path and she realizes something’s not working,” Bennett says.

“I think Lindsay is going on a journey of taking responsibility and realizing that she’s doing things that kind of bring the bad luck into her life that’s not actually bad luck, it’s choices. Also, finding out how she got there: What were her life experiences that made her into a person who is doing coke off their kids or whatever? She’s making those steps to figure it out, which I think is really beautiful and nice because all the other characters have gone through some self exploration over the years, and it’s nice to see them be that deep with her history.”

In other words, in true You’re the Worst fashion, the light at the end of Lindsay’s tunnel could be self-actualization, or it could be an oncoming train; either way, we know it’ll be fun (and scarily relatable) to watch.

You’re the Worst airs Wednesdays at 10 p.m. on FXX.

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