#they were getting messy offscreen

[suzypfonne]

I think the *implied offscreen intimate shenanigans* trope would be so cute on GO.

Just like, Crowley and Aziraphale are called in from another room and arrive disheveled: buttons are mismatched, hair is mussed, and someone's pants are on backwards. I'm especially giddy at the thought of Aziraphale's eye-pencil-mustache being smudged all over Crowley's face, and them just trying to "act normal" in the worst way.

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Maggie: Mr Crowley, you have something on your cheek.

Crowley: I don't. *sniff*

Nina, snidely: And your trousers are on the wrong way round.

Crowley: Ngk 'S'stylish.

Aziraphale, with half a mustache: 😳

[hyunsvngs]

𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 - lee minho x fem!reader

wc: 5.8k

cw: this is a piss fic, you have been warned - don't like don't read, established d/s dynamics in a relationship, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: your boyfriend has something he wants to try in bed. you didn't expect to like it so much.

a/n: like i said before this is a piss fic, if you don't like don't read! thank u to the sweet girl who commissioned this & thank u to my babies may and nessa for proofreading and also my ems <3 i was super nervous about this so i hope u like <3 smut warnings ofc under cut

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: PISS, established d/s dynamics, dom!minho, sub!reader, subspace, SERIOUSLY THERE’S PISS, face fucking, oral (m rec), very negotiated kink, minho calls reader a plethora of pet names, nipple play, one (1) face slap, minho’s condescending and MEAN, choking, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, degradation, squirting, reader calls minho sir briefly, brief aftercare but more offscreen!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It’s always daunting when Minho gets like this. You know exactly what’s going to go down tonight - you’ve discussed it extensively. You always have to discuss it extensively. Minho is nothing if not a good dom, and there’s rules and regulations that you have to adhere to, even if he is your boyfriend.

It still catches you off guard. He paces across the room to your shared wardrobe, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and exposing his veiny forearms. You’re perched on the bed, the exact way he told you to be in your plain black underwear. The fresh sheets are a welcome coolness on your warm skin. You’re overheating in excitement. You can’t wait. 

He’s going to piss on you tonight. He’s going to piss on you tonight, or maybe even in you, he��d said - he wanted to make you well and truly messy. Just the way he liked you. He told you he’d be mean, maybe even meaner than normal, and you’d agreed to it all before climbing into his lap and begging him to take you on the flimsy dining table chair in your kitchen in all of your excitement. He had chuckled, brushing a hand over your head with a teasing little “you want it that bad, huh?”. He still fucked you, so your plan went as hoped.

“I want to talk to you about something before we start, jagi,” His voice is smooth, low in volume, yet you hear every word loudly. You nod in response, and he turns and blinks at you, slow and cat-like. Oh, yeah. You were forgetting yourself already.

You blush in embarrassment of how far gone you are already, and he smiles, soft and barely noticeable. Fond. “Yeah, Min?”

The blush only continues to spread when he finally, finally climbs onto the bed next to you. He’s still in his work clothes, shirt tight on his broad pecs and his trousers tight on his thighs. You try not to stare. You fail, and he chuckles, using two fingers to prop your chin up to look directly at his eyes.

“This scene is a little harder than the other ones we’ve done,” He looks at you. It would feel scrutinising, the way he’s sizing you up, but his eyes are so full of fondness you can’t feel perceived at all - only admired. “I’m a little worried you may fall into subspace. Do you know what that is?”

He’s using his dominant voice on you, you swear. The tone of voice that’s level, not quite monotone but very, very straightforward and firm. Almost strict. It makes you rub your thighs together in need. Your boyfriend is so sexy when he’s like this. 

A quick scratch to your chin has you blinking back into reality. Yes. “Yes, I do know what that is. I’ve never done that before though, have I? So I probably won’t now, and-”

“We don’t know that,” He’s firm when he cuts you off, but presses a kiss to your nose nonetheless. “I need to know if you’re okay with me continuing if I notice you getting all floaty, jagi. I won’t if you don’t want me to. This is all in your hands, yeah? You know you run this show.” 

He chuckles, lightening the mood, but he’s right. When Minho first introduced you to this, you realised very quickly that despite the dominant being physically in charge, it was definitely the submissive that held the reins. It’s hard giving yourself over to someone so viscerally - it’s a vulnerable state to be in, letting someone decide your limits and decide what’s best for you.

Despite that, you’d let Minho fuck you outside in six foot snow, so you were definitely down for being fucked in subspace.

“Yes. Yeah, I want you to- I think it’d be hot, I think,” You’re babbling already, and Minho smiles again, his teeth glinting in the low light of your lamp. “I think it would be hot if you carried on, and I was like- all fuzzy, and stuff. You know?”

It’s silent for a beat, and then he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Cute. Remember I love you, jagi, okay?”

Oh. Oh, you were starting? He normally only said that before you started, and before you can question him, he’s pressing his mouth against yours firmer, harder. It’s messy, the way he dominates your mouth instantly and uses one hand to tangle in your hair, yanking your hair back. You whimper against his lips, and he bites your bottom lip in response, finally moving to press you down to the bed with him on top of you. He starts to trail kisses down your face and your neck, and you can't help but let out a small noise of excitement. Before you can beg him to leave his mark on you, he quickly moves back up to your lips and starts to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth in an act of possession. You wrap your arms around him and bring him closer, feeling yourself getting a lot more than just worked up.

His chest is muscled, the slightly toned soft muscle that only makes sense on Minho. He’s not heavy on top of you, only a presence where he licks and sucks into your mouth until you’re leaking into your panties. He pulls away, his lips dropping to your neck, and you can’t be anything more than pliant the way you let him use your skin and mark you as his. You are his. Mentally, emotionally, physically - any way he wants you, you’ll let him.

“I love this body,” Minho groans, his voice low and gravelly. “Such a filthy fucking body. You’re gonna let me piss on it, aren’t you?”

You whine, loud and unabashed, and Minho chuckles. It’s a puff of air against the exposed column of your neck and your hips cant up, searching for friction. 

“Oh, you are,” His hand moves down to your bra, searching through the lace for your pebbled nipple. The lace is thin, pitch black and almost sheer, and a grin forms on his face when he manages to pinch your nipple meanly. “Look at how excited you are for it. Your nipples are so hard, are you that excited for my piss?”

You try to nod in response, but a quick slap against your cheek using his spare hand has you reeling to try and form words. You’re babbling before you can even think. “Y-Yes! Yes, Minho, I’m excited. I can’t wait, I wanna- I wan’ taste it, will you let me? Please?”

He hums in consideration, yanking down the cups of your bra to expose your tits to him. He was right - your nipples are hard and pebbled, dusky against your flesh, and he ducks down to engulf one in his mouth. His lips are full, plush like pillows, and his tongue darts around your nipple in small kitten licks. Soft, wet, warm. Pliant. His.

Minho’s bunny teeth are quick to bite at the peak, and you whine, back arching up to get more of the painful pleasure. He coos at this, finger running over your areola once when he pulls back from your chest. He sits back on his haunches, fingers deftly making quick use of his belt. The way he pulls the belt from the loops on his trousers have you remembering all the times he’s whipped you with it, and your eyes go blurry. You’re staring directly at the extremely prominent bulge in his trousers as if you somehow have x-ray vision and can see his cock in all its glory already.

“I’m going to fuck your face,” He explains, pushing down the expensive branded boxers to his thighs. His thighs are thick, muscled from years of dance, and you nod at his words despite having your vision solely trained on the bulging muscles. You can’t even keep your attention there for long - his cock springs out, hard and flushed and so big, so thick in the tight ring he forms around the base. The veins look as though they could be practically throbbing beneath the skin with arousal. “I’ll fuck your face, and I’ll piss down your throat. Do you want that? Tell me.”

He’s asking you, and you can’t believe it. Of course you want it, but you respond anyway. “I want it. I want it so bad, Minho. How do you want me? On the floor, on my knees? Or do you-”

“On the floor,” He looks towards the ground, pleased with himself when you heed his commands immediately. You’re quick to dive off of the bed and sink to your knees on the floor, and Minho lets out a fond chuckle before standing in front of you, ever the image of dominance. The hardwood floor doesn’t save your knees, still feeling hard and uncomfortable, and the way the pain bites into your legs has you shifting even more. It turns you on, being used and treated like an object, and being put on the floor to suck cock doesn’t help any. You’re positively ruining your panties by now.

His trousers are pushed down to his ankles, the perfect juxtaposition of black, thick material against his milky skin. His shirt is rolled up just enough for you to see the bottom of his tummy, hairy and soft above his cock. You expect him to keep it on, but you watch in awe as he unbuttons his shirt quickly and throws it to the side. His chest is exposed to you then, all broad muscle and dusky pink nipples against his skin.

He pumps his shaft in his hand a few times for good measure, just barely a few inches from your face, and then he’s tapping the cockhead on your lips. “Open wide. C’mon, kitty cat.”

His tone is condescending, almost patronising, and you hold back a whine. When your lips fall apart, he’s pushing into your mouth before you can even process it. A blistering, feverish pace immediately takes over his hips, and his cockhead is ramming down your throat with only a slight bit of pain beneath all of the pleasure. You try to run your tongue over the tip, to trace the veins with the tip of your tongue, but it’s impossible. He’s using your mouth like he’d use your pussy, unabashed and downright mean.

“Take it,” he grunts, looking ever the ethereal being above you. If you didn’t know him, you’d swear he was an angel - no, a fallen angel, debauched and with black, wiry wings sprouting from his back. Sweat covers the top of his chest, shiny and wet, and his cockhead presses firmly into the back of your throat. Your eyes water with the intense ministrations on your throat, hands aching to reach out and grab onto Minho’s thighs. They stay securely on your own limbs, and Minho groans, his eyes staring down into yours.  “Fucking take it for me. Take my cock, dirty kitty. Don’t you dare fucking cry about it.”

You’d swear he was composed if it wasn’t for the way he was looking down at you. Minho’s mostly quiet in bed, only a few sparse noises, but the fire in his eyes is visible.

The sounds in the room are filthy. Your eyes are hazy already with the force that he’s rutting into your mouth, but when his hand goes into your hair, yanking with all of his might, you hear yourself whine between gags and you’re not even trying to. You’re floating, fuzzy where your boyfriend fucks his cockhead into your mouth - you can’t even consider what’s going on, not too out of it but out of it enough to question what’s actually happening around you. Is this what Minho was talking about before? Subspace?

“Oh, Jesus. Are you feeling fuzzy already, kitty?” He pulls his cock out, tapping the cockhead on your bottom lip. A string of drool attaches his cock back to your mouth and he groans in approval, feline eyes narrowing. “Went down so easy for me, huh? Do you think you can take a little more?”

You’re nodding then, subconsciously, but a slight smile on your face. You want more. You need more. You need his piss, wherever on your body that he deems acceptable - it’s like he’s marking you as his territory. It’s such a primitive act that gets you more than just hot under the collar. If he pisses on you, or in you, it’s as if he sees you as an object that’s beneath him, not worth anything more than his piss. 

“Good,” He muses, and then his hand is forming a tight ring around his length. It’s throbbing, long and thick where it protrudes from his groin with drops of pearlescent precum, and he presses it past your lips again with a small sigh. “I’ve gotta take a piss, kitty cat. I want you to swallow it all for me, and then you can have some milk in that pussy for being good. How’s that?”

You can’t reply, because he’s already bouncing your head on his shaft. He’s resorted to pulling you up and down on his shaft by your hair this time, not grinding his hips rhythmically into the hot, wet cavern you’ve provided. 

“You know, I really thought you’d say no to this,” How the fuck is his voice calm right now? “But then I realised that of course you’d be into it. My filthy little fucking urinal.”

You moan loudly around his shaft. Minho chuckles, and then he’s pulling back again, your throat abused and aching at the alleviation of pressure. His cockhead stays at the entrance of your mouth, and he drops a hand from your hair to pump it a few times, raising an eyebrow at you.

“It’s coming,” He warns. “Are you ready? Are you ready for my piss, filthy bitch?”

You moan, nodding, and when your tongue lolls out of your mouth, Minho lets out a loud groan. It’s primal, and you watch silently as he shakes his head and flutters his eyes closed to try and gain some control of himself. He runs his finger over the slit of his cockhead, and then he’s pushing the tip past your lips again and - oh. 

His piss begins leaking out of his tip, a slow and steady stream that tastes surprisingly a lot like you expected. It’s purely Minho, raw and unfiltered, and you whine and whimper and let him fill your mouth up with his piss. It feels filthy, your pussy positively dripping through your panties and onto the floor by now. The stream floods down your throat even as you continue to gulp it down greedily, and you allow your hands to finally find purchase on his thighs, fingernails digging into the muscle. He allows it, his hands both moving back to your hair to bob you on his tip just a little to get the rest of his piss out.

Minho pulls out of your mouth with a soft noise, his eyes staring down at you almost menacingly. You dip your tongue into his piss-slit once more, moaning at the remnants of the taste, and then you’re whining, loud and un-muffled. 

“Minho,” You say, voice high and needy. You feel as though you want to say so much, you want to beg so much, but nothing is coming out of your mouth. You’re so fucking turned on you feel like you could die. “P-Please. Please, please. I can’t, I can’t, please, please-”

He positively growls. You’re pulled up by two hands underneath your armpits and thrown onto the bed less than unceremoniously, his body sidling up next to you. He’s kicked his trousers off, you notice, body warm and firm next to you.

“Was it that good? Dirty little thing,” He hums, tongue licking one fat stripe up your neck. “C’mere. Let me taste it on you.”

Minho’s lips are firm against yours, and his hands are anything but gentle as he slides them down your body. It’s like he’s igniting you with electricity, every area of skin that he touches feeling warm and too sensitive. His lips trail down your neck, leaving another trail of fire behind them. You’re pliant, letting him pull you by your hair and your throat into his dominating, overwhelming kisses.

His fingers reach your panties, and his finger dips underneath the waistband. You gasp, holding your breath and wishing, praying that he’ll push his whole hand into your underwear, but he simply pulls his finger back with a small amused puff of air. 

“Hnnfg, Minho, Minho, please, I don’t, I can’t-“

Minho leans over you more then, his eyes dark and half-lidded when he stares into yours. His gaze is all-consuming, but there’s a slight hint of a teasing smile on his lips. “Jesus, kitty. Be quiet,” His voice is low, amused, until all signs of a smile drop from his face upon his fingers finally delving into your underwear. His forearm obscures your vision, muscled and veiny, but you can feel the way your wetness immediately drenches his fingertips. His eyes flicker from your face to your core in awe, lips slightly parted. “Fuckin- shit. Jagi, tell me this is a joke. You’re fucking drenched.”

You are. His fingers smear around in your wetness, spreading it all around your folds. He drags his middle and ring finger down to your hole, wet and sloppy, and you look at him with pleading eyes. You’re not sure you could talk even if you wanted to.

Minho simply smiles that toothy smile that you love, eyes crinkling. You’re confused - he’s being nice - until he’s shoving both fingers into you at once. It was a stretch you hadn't been prepared for, and you jolt with a squeal, hands going up to grip onto his forearm. 

“Do you remember what I said before, jagi?” He muses, fingers curling up into that spot that makes you whine. You do whine, legs thrashing around and toes curling against the sheets. “If you have any in there, I’m fucking having it. I want you to piss all over my cock before I fuck you with it, remember? I want you to treat you like the dirty little thing you are.”

You nod, brain still fuzzy and way too overwhelmed. Your pussy squelches loudly around his digits, and his spare hand wraps around your throat in a dangerous grip. It’s not too hard, but definitely there, and you whimper in approval. 

Your eyes roll back into your head at the pace he sets against your g-spot, and after a brief, tight squeeze, Minho removes his hand from your throat in favour of using two fingers on your clit along with his harsh fingering. His arm is curled underneath your waist in a position that must be painful to him, but you ignore it in favour of your own pleasure. 

You feel like you could scream, and you do let out some strangled noise that sounds nothing at all like you. Just when you think it can’t get any worse - or any better, actually - he slides another finger in, stretching you out with three of his digits. You’re dripping down onto his knuckles and you wail, starting to hump against his hand. You’re going to cum embarrassingly quickly.

“You better be fucking thinking of asking for permission, bitch,” Minho hisses in your ear. You moan in response, nodding. Of course you’ll ask. Something about your boyfriend just makes you want to be good. You want to obey him so he continues to give you such nice things. “You don’t make the decisions. I'm the one fucking that hole with my fingers right now, I'll be the one who says you can cum.”

His fingers thrust into you faster, if it was possible, and you thrash around. The movement brings Minho’s cock against your thigh, and you gasp at the realisation that he’s next to you, naked, in all his glory. Your fingernails still dig painfully into his forearm, but he doesn’t seem phased. “Minho, Minho- I’m gon’- please, please, please, I wanna cum, let me come, it hurts, I-“

“Oh, I know, I know. It just feels too good, doesn’t it? You can’t even fucking control yourself, writhing around like that,” He groans, eyes fixated on your face. You know your expression is screwed up in pleasure, eyes watering from the feeling of his fingers inside of you. His fingers begin to slide around on your clit rather than provide any direct pressure due to how wet you’re getting, but you still hump against the sensation with gratitude. You’d never have anything other than gratitude when Minho’s being so nice like this. “You’re behaving like a fucking whore. Beg me for it. Beg me to let a fucking whore like you cum all over my fingers, tell me how good it feels.”

He starts kissing up your neck again with the open-mouthed, wet movements, and you feel like you’re about to burst. Just a little more. Just a little more, and you can, you just have to will your brain to speak. “I-I love sir's fingers, fuck, I love when sir fingers me like this- fuck, sir I'm gonna- can't hold it- I, hnng, I can’t, I don’t- pleasepleaseplease-”

Minho pulls away from your neck with an alarmed little snort. “Sir? God, you are far gone,” He points out, but then he’s pinching your clit meanly with his fingers. It makes you hump his hand a little faster and whine a little louder. It’s quiet for a beat, and then he’s sighing as if he’s annoyed. You swear you catch him rolling his eyes through your blurry vision. “Okay, fine. Go on then, if you want to cum so badly. Cum.”

With one word, you feel like your whole world is falling apart. A gush of wetness bursts from you and all over the bed, probably soaking Minho too. Your ears are ringing and you can feel the tears brimming in your eyes begin to fall, fat streaks of wetness painting your skin. His fingers don’t slow, but he’s groaning in your ear now, coaching you along. He pulls his fingers out, rubbing over your clit with a wet hand that only made you let out another gush everywhere. You were sure you'd screamed.

You wail and thrash through your orgasm, and then you’re panting, body dropping back onto the bed. You don’t register Minho groaning, licking his fingers clean - you only realise he’s moved when he’s on top of you, yanking your soaking wet underwear down your legs and finally unclasping your bra. Your hands go above your head, pliant and willing, letting him take control. You’re fucked dumb by now, anyway. You’d be no use.

“If you had all that in there for me, you have some piss in there,” He muses, and you whine, shaking your head.

“D’nt need to pee, Min,” You insist, head lolling back on the sheets. You’re pliant, and Minho grabs your chin with his hand, making you face him. His ears are burning a shade of delectable pink, the flush travelling over his chest and making him look almost embarrassed. You know this state of Minho all too well, though. He’s so horny he feels like he’s about to explode.

“You do,” He responds, quick as a flash. You whimper as he presses his cockhead into your folds, just barely teasing the ruddy, flushed tip at your hole. Your hands move to grip onto the sheets next to your head, and just when you’re sure he’s going to put it in, Minho leans down, and then his hand is pressing on the bottom of your stomach. You wail, shaking your head. Minho chuckles knowingly. “You need to piss, don’t you?”

You do. Embarrassingly quickly, just from him pressing on your bladder. “I- it’ll make a mess, Min, I can’t, I can’t-”

“I want it to make a fucking mess,” He scoffs, pressing harder. He continues to drag his cock through your sopping wet folds with his other hand, his feline eyes staring at you with a renewed fire burning behind them. He’s daring you to disobey. You would never disobey him. “I want everything you have to give me. Piss all over my cock. Do it.”

You clench your thighs, stomach tensing. It doesn’t take much, only a slight rubbing of Minho’s hand on your tummy and you’re pissing. The stream erupts from you in a messy spurt, and Minho groans, pumping his cock to coat it in your mess. You whine, trying to shift your hips to catch his cock inside of you, but the mess you’re making ensures that it’s too slippery to do so.

“Stay still, you’ll get it in a second,” Minho mumbles, hand tightening around the head of his cock. It’s substantially lubed now, but he still continues to pump it, hand easing up on your stomach. Something about it has your mouth watering, staring at his cock and wondering how it tastes. Maybe he’ll let you suck it clean next time, let you taste his cock mixed with your own piss. “That’s it, kitty. Get sir’s cock nice and wet with your piss. Dirty little thing.”

When the stream finally finishes, you shift against the sheets, soaking wet and definitely a lot more aroused than you were previously. There’s still only one thing on your mind. “Can- can I have it now, please, please?”

Minho nods, his cheeks blazing red. He’s losing his composure. “Yeah. God, yeah, kitty. You can have it, c’mere,” He sighs, finally pushing the head of his cock inside of you. It slides inside easily with the wetness of your pussy and the mess you’d made on him, his thick shaft stretching you out and making you moan out for him. You catch sight of Minho’s eyes rolling back into his head, a long, drawn out noise leaving his lips. “Fuck, this is so fucking dirty. You’re filthy, letting me do this.”

No. You’re not, are you? Are you dirty? “Filthy?” You question, completely in bliss at the feeling of him finally inside you. You’ll be filthy if it means he’ll fuck you. Minho chuckles, and then his hips start to move, a sinuous grind against yours. The noises your pussy is making are beyond debauched, wet, slapping sounds from how soaking wet you are. You whine, bucking your hips up, and Minho lets you, gripping your hips to pull you off of the mattress.

“I’m gonna go harder, okay? I want you to take it for me, all of it,” His voice is close, leaning down to whisper it against the skin of your neck. You nod eagerly, and he pulls your thighs up to rest your ankles on his shoulders. The change in position has his cock hitting you deeper and you gasp, fingers moving to grip on his biceps. He sits back slightly, pulling you closer to him, and then he’s pounding into you. With little to no buildup, you can’t help but squeal, your pussy gushing around his fat length. “You love this, don’t you? My cock, covered in your piss, stretching your little cunt out. You love being filthy for me.”

“Hhnnfg, hhng, Min, Min, Min, you made me pee, you-”

Minho scoffs, hand threading into your hair. He wraps your hair around his fist and pulls, bent half over you while he pounds your pussy into oblivion. “Don’t make stupid fucking excuses for yourself. I can see it in your eyes, you love being like this for me.” 

You whine, tears brimming in your eyes again uncontrollably. You can’t do anything but just lay there, pliant and gripping onto his biceps for him to stretch your pussy out with his veiny fucking cock. It feels almost too good, too overwhelming. The ridges of his shaft are pressing against your walls, causing a delectable friction that has you clenching down on every outwards motion from him. It’s as if your pussy doesn’t want him to leave, and you don’t want him to leave, pulling him close by his arms every time he thrusts inside of you. 

Minho pushes your thighs apart, and then he’s bending you into a sort of mating press. Your legs rest on his upper biceps and his body folds you in half for him, making you whine at the stretch on your muscles. You’re loud, embarrassingly so, little “ah, ah, ah”’s leaving your mouth with every thrust. The change in position allows him to hit your cervix with his length, long and throbbing inside of you, and you’re only louder and more pathetic for him. 

“Can you hear that, kitty cat?” He whispers, and you hold your breath. Once you’ve stopped making so much noise, you can hear it - the sound of your pussy is even louder, wet and messy and when you look down, his cock is soaking with you. With your piss or your slick, you’re not sure, but it has you clenching down deliciously anyway. “I’m fucking your own piss into you, and you’re whining like a little bitch.”

You can’t even make sense of what he’s saying. Your previous slight fuzziness has morphed into full blown floating, and you think you’re crying, but you’re not sure. All you can hear is your own noises, loud and desperate while he ensures your pussy never forgets the shape of his cock. “Ah, ah, I don’t- sir, I don’t, I can’t, I don’t know- ah, oh, I can’t-”

“Ah, fucking hell,” Minho hisses, gritting his teeth. You watch in disappointment as he pulls his cock out of you, forming a tight ring around the base with his fingers. “I need to cum inside you. I need to give you your milk, kitty cat, c’mon. Flip over for me.” 

He tells you to do it, but helps you anyway. You feel his hands go to your hips to flip you over, and then you’re face down, and some part of you finds the strength to push your hips up to present your pussy for him. But, milk? You’ve been good enough for that?

He sinks back inside you, his cock slick and fat and too much for your little pussy. “There you go, jagi. Biiig stretch, feel it,” He moans, and you push your hips back on him easily. In this position, your lips are parted and you can feel yourself drooling up a puddle on the sheets. It adds to the mess, filthy with piss and slick and sweat, and you want Minho to lick it all up and spit it in your mouth. He immediately resumes his punishing pace, hips slapping against your ass with every thrust and hitting that delicious spot inside you so well. “Fuckin’ tight pussy, ah, it’s so good.” 

“H- haa, Minho, have I been good?” You question, eyes blurry and bottom lip slick with your own spit. Minho groans, deep and loud, reverberating through your whole body. He knows you need reassurance, and he nods, a little smile on his face despite his lust-filled, half-lidded eyes.

“You’ve been so good. So good I’m giving you my cum, yeah? Gonna breed that little pussy, filled it with your piss already, needs my cum now,” He’s babbling, which is a sure sign that he’s close - but you can’t even fathom it in your state. “Little girl, kitty cat, so good for me, c’mere.”

You don’t move, but Minho slinks one hand around your hip to rub at your clit. The added pleasure has you jolting with a whine, and Minho lets out an amused puff of air at your reaction. His fingers slide around your clit wet and imprecise, but it’s enough to have you hurtling towards your second orgasm. His cockhead slams against your g-spot, bordering on painful, but the sensation only adds to the throes of bliss he has you tumbling through.

“Min, Min, Min, it’s- ‘s so good, so good, so big, so- Min, Min, I g’ta-”

“You can cum whenever, jagi. Give it to me, I want it,” His voice is higher, more desperate, and you nod eagerly. He sidles over your back, his sweaty chest pressed to your skin, and then he’s pressing his lips against yours.

It’s less of a kiss and more of a messy exchange of spit and breathing into each other's mouths. Minho’s tongue slides against yours as he continues to rub messy circles around your clit, and before you know it, you’re cumming around his cock with a sharp gasp of pleasure against his lips. He swallows your noises, finally engulfing your mouth with his, and you moan and sigh freely through gushing all over his length, the electric feeling making your toes curl.

Minho envelops your hair tightly with his spare hand, thrusting harder and faster, his breathing becoming ragged as he approaches his climax. With a broken whine, you feel his cum fill you up, thick and hot and heavy.

He flops on top of you with a sigh, his body weight a welcome presence for you. You ignore the feeling of the sheets beneath you in favour of closing your eyes and humming contentedly. You’re still floating, but it’s calmer now, softer. It feels like you’re on a cloud. “So good, Min.” 

“Yeah?” Minho grins, his hand now stroking softly through your hair in favour of yanking on it. “You did so good for me, jagi. You were so, so good, made me cum so hard.”

“You made me cum hard, too,” You respond, opening one eye to see his face over your shoulder. His cheeks are flushed, hair sweaty and floppy over his eyes, but he has a blissed out smile on his face. When he catches sight of you looking at him, he smiles, and the sight of his bunny teeth has your heart singing. How can he look so cute after fucking you like that? Before you can say anything else, you yawn, and Minho giggles. “‘M sleepy.”

“Bath first, jagi,” He coos, kissing your hairline. “My sweet girl. Let’s get you nice and clean and then we’ll nap.”

“Mm, okay,” Minho hops off of you and you stretch out leisurely like a cat, your body sticky and defiled. You hear him tinkering around the room behind you, humming a tune to himself, and you smile fondly. “Love you, Min.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

[aihoshiino]

chapter 158 thoughts

i lied the hyperfixation took over and reanimated my body

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Entirely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 15

Aqua Hoshigan Status: N/A

Usually when an OnK chapter ends on a bombshell like this one apparently does, I usually play a little coy as to my thoughts on it but I don't really see much point in doing that this time. This chapter basically is its final moment, with some swings taken at basically every other character on the way down so I don't see much point in separating it from the rest of the work. That said, my ultimate feelings on it will ultimately depend on how the story progresses past this moment so don't expect me to go too deeply into it for now. All I'll say at the top of the post is that I think this is deeply contrived and continues Akasaka's trend of seemingly beating every character with the dipshit stick in order to make a certain dramatic plot beat happen.

But it'll be pretty messy to follow if I get into the chapter's final scene right here and now, so let's rewind to the start and break down the rest of this chapter too. Don't worry, I have plenty of unpleasant things to say about it as well!!!!

Akane's here!! Actually in truth I had somehow forgotten that she'd cut her hair in the weeks since her last appearance so seeing her turn up with it so short kind of startled me for a second LOL

More AKKN yuribaiting… usually I eat up this kind of queerbait with a spoon because I am a simple creature but it doesn't really hit this time. I think it's because we're running through the Tokyo Blade arc in the anime right now and being reminded of how utterly electric their rivalry used to be makes the lack of meaningful follow-up and ultimate state of their relationship just kind of sad to me.

Seeing Akane and Ruby talking also feels kind of surreal given that it's almost 60 whole chapters since they've actually properly interacted onscreen… Like, obviously they were acting together in the Movie Arc and we can infer they had some offscreen chats then but… well, that's things we can infer, not something that's actually in the text of the story. Akane's involvement in the movie really was a total waste of potential, huh…

that said, wtf is akane even doing in miyazaki. girl who are you stalking this time.

Speaking of things that are weird, Ruby's hostile reaction to the idea of Akane getting a new boyfriend is… kind of bizarre, to the point where I literally have no idea where it's coming from?? Like, regardless of what this chapter tries to pretend, Ruby and Akane are absolutely not close enough for Ruby to feel upset at the prospect of Akane blowing her off in favour of boyfriend time. If anything, you'd think that having Aqua's ex-girlfriend definitively Out Of The Way would only be good on her eyes because it means one less obstacle between her and getting to shlonk her brother, but… apparently not???

The only way I can really make any sense of this is assuming this is the old and crusty "single girl getting jealous that her friend has a boyfriend at Christmas" joke, which I guess indirectly answers the question of whether or not anything AquRuby related has resolved in the Offscreen Dimension.

Anyway, Akane's chatter in this scene leads into something I've been kind of holding my tongue about in favour of waiting until it was addressed in the story and we're finally here - as previously predicted, this chapter starts on the note of attempting to assert that Ruby has 'become an idol who surpasses Ai' and you'll notice the way I phrased this because uh… no, she very much hasn't!

This idea of Ruby 'surpassing' Ai has been floating around in the story for a while now and as I've said before, unless OnK puts a huge amount of legwork into supporting that idea, I simply wouldn't believe it. It didn't, so I don't.

Not only is this assertion just half-heartedly plunked into the narrative - incredibly underwhelming for what should be a huge moment of triumph for Ruby - but the visual storytelling of the manga fails it as well. Like, compare this to similar moments from the very arc the anime is adapting this season - hell, in this very chapter, we see a panel of Kana's dazzling acting during Tokyo Blade. In comparison, the panels we see that supposedly show how Ruby has become an idol beyond compare… they just look like literally every other panel of any of the girls doing idol stuff. Hell, she looks distinctly less striking than some of Kana's performances as an idol and they certainly don't match or exceed the panels we've seen of Ai's spellbinding performances, which really undermines what the story is trying to say.

This is made even worse for the fact that the story has repeatedly pointed out that Ruby is the subject of incredible amounts of favoritism in the new B-Komachi - their boss is Literally Her Actual Mom who was explicitly called out by Ichigo for favoring work opportunities while leaving her fellow members out to dry. Members who, I feel the need to remind everyone, were scouted by her twin brother, not Ruby. Members whose careers as idols suffered during Ruby's clout chasing BH era because of her clout chasing and whose hurt feelings on this are framed as something Ruby is graciously forgiving about.

Like… I'm not saying it's impossible for Ruby to become an idol who outshines her mom, but this narrative as it's currently being presented in the manga falls flat for me because we never actually see Ruby face any kind of struggle on her road to doing this. Ai, Kana and Mem all face significant structural, social and industry-wide issues and toxicity that they must grapple with and overcome but Ruby just… does not?? Ever?? And given the way the narrative has framed Miyako's involvement in her career, the only conclusion I can draw is that Ruby is being shielded from all this by Miyako at the expense of the other girls. Especially because Ruby literally said so in 156!

Idk man. This whole chapter just sucks for basically every B-Komachi girl - that panel of the girls on stage where you literally can't even see Mem's face is so fucking miserable lmao. There was so much weight was placed on B-Komachi's togetherness as a trio of not just idols but friends who genuinely care for each other that seeing the story end up in this place of unironically indulging in all the same favoritism of Ruby and sidelining of her fellow members that Ichigo and Miyako did with the original B-Komachi is honestly just upsetting. Not only does it drag down Mem and Kana's stories, but it ends up making Ruby come off as a tremendously self-centered person in a way the narrative clearly does not understand and is uninterested in unpacking.

And like… bro, I don't want to be pissed off at Ruby!! Pre-BH Ruby is one of my favourite characters in the series!!! But the way she's been coddled by the narrative is deeply frustrating to read! It's frustrating to see everyone else's arcs compromised in favor of forcing this bizarre narrative about Ruby that doesn't even do any good for her either.

I can so easily see a better version of this story where Ruby surpasses Ai because she has so much support and faces none of the obstacles that Ai did, where the story is making a point of just how much further Ai could have gone and how much more she could've done if she hadn't been treated like such utter shit by everyone around her. But the point the story settles on seems to just be that Ruby is a better idol than Ai because she arbitrarily is not affected by societal and systemic oppression for no clearly articulated reason, I guess! You go, girl!

huffs. anyway.

Ruby's little monologue about the short-lived life of an idol also feels like the final nail in the coffin for the story being able to even pretend to do any meaningful industry commentary. Compared to how biting it was in the early arcs, it's a pretty standout representation with OnK's bizarre relationship with idol culture as of late, especially as pertains to Ruby's place in it. I can sort of get what I think Akasaka is going for here - it's part of the theme the story is leaning into lately of letting go of your past and moving towards a brighter future and this is how Ruby is coping with Kana's time in B-Komachi coming to an end. The point being made here is that change is inevitable no matter how you try to hold onto things and the only way to freeze yourself in stasis forever is to die.

But having this framed through the lens of Ruby talking so warmly about the impermanence of idols is just kind of… hello?? Ruby's framing here almost seems to treat the issue as some beautifully tragic but inevitable thing… and is very much is not! Idols age out of the industry because of its obsession with youth and beauty and the fetishization and commodification of virginial purity. Seeing Ruby frame it as this sad but natural thing when these fucked up purity standards literally killed her mom is just. What is going on here.

Speaking of baffling! Nino my girl, what are they doing to you…

I mentioned this in my chapter 155 thoughts that I felt extremely cold about the way the story was choosing to characterize Nino in the actual pages of the manga. I won't repeat myself too much but compared to the messed up but deeply human character we saw in 45510 and the RBKN conflict, this Nino honestly feels like a mean-spirited caricature, amped up to such dramatic extremes that she stops being a person and instead becomes a flat cartoon character used for moving the plot along. I loved Nino in 45510 and the Movie Arc so seeing her reduced to this psycho lesbian stereotype really stings.

also wtf is the manga trying to say with the 'since we killed ryosuke' bit. that was a whole ass suicide. this manga gives me such a headache sometimes.

Anyway. I can't talk around it anymore so. RIP Ruby, I guess. It was nice knowing you, but-

no but seriously, I'm holding my tongue on anything to do with this twist until next chapter because my actual thoughts will depend on how it plays out or if this is even really happening at all - which is NOT something i would even entertain as a possibility if oshi no ko was not the manga it currently is lol

But there's also the fact that, as others have pointed out, that panel of the stab is presented with faded colours and overly dramatic lighting in a way that is consistent with how OnK sometimes presents flashbacks or otherwise unreal visualizations. Given how incredibly dumb the entire cast - including Ruby - would have to be for this to actually, really happen, I'm withholding judgement until I see how this pans out.

That said. Man. I was really taken aback by how not just underwhelming but outright Not Good the actual panel of the stab is. The attempt to mine an emotional reaction out of the pre-existing iconic panel of Ai's murder just falls entirely flat because this version of it is worse in just about every regard. Ai's panel is composed beautifully, with the white petals and the motion of her body perfectly drawing the viewer's eye to the knife and the uncharacteristic expression of total shock on her face really hammers home the 'oh shit' moment. By contrast, Ruby's panel is flat with oceans of dead space despite being a much smaller panel and the actual stab has no weight to it, visually or otherwise. Ruby's body and face aren't reacting to it in the least - her expression is totally lifeless and she just looks like she's mid-stride, not that someone's just stabbed her in the gut. And to add insult to injury, the fucking layering on the killer's hand isn't even right. It's so obvious these two characters were drawn totally separately and pasted together afterwards and the entire moment falls flat as a result. Mengo, girl, what happened here!!!

and to add insult to injury. break next week. because why woudn't it be.

any of yall got ibuprofen

[candycandy00]

Pick Me Up - A Gojo x Reader x Geto Halloween Fanfic Part 1

Gojo and Geto are two serial killers who enjoy seducing their victims before killing them. Every year on Halloween they have a friendly competition, and this year the target they both choose is you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The first two parts will be fairly short and just serve to set up the way these two operate. The third part starts the “main part”. Any feedback or comments are greatly appreciated! Divider by @violetbudd

Smut. 18+. Fem Readers. Implied death/blood/gore (“offscreen” for now). Consensual sex. Gojo and Geto are both bisexual. First part is Gojo x Reader only. Geto will be the focus of part 2.

Unbelievable. You left your house with nearly a full tank of gas. Now, just thirty minutes later, your car is running on fumes on the darkest, loneliest highway in the area. You even double checked when you stopped at that gas station just outside of town to grab snacks. 

You’re on your way to one of several Halloween parties taking place this weekend in the days leading up to the actual holiday. This one was supposed to be one of the best, out on the old Johnson farm. 

But now you find yourself forced to pull over on the side of the road because your stupid car is out of gas. Must be a leak, you figure as you cut the engine and grab your phone from the passenger seat. You groan when you realize there’s no service. Of course not. You’re out in the boonies. 

With an annoyed sigh you climb out of your car and hold your phone in the air, trying to catch a bar or two. No luck. Glancing at your car, you wonder if you could actually see gas leaking from the bottom if you look. But you don’t want to ruin your sexy Little Red Riding Hood costume. The skirt is so short and so tight that you don’t think it’s physically possible to squat down in it. 

You walk a few steps away, still holding your phone up, still hoping for a signal. This is the last place you want to be stranded. Over the past two weeks, four different women close to your age have been found murdered along this road. Their deaths were gruesome, violent, and bloody. Two of them had their guts ripped completely out. The other two had apparently been skinned alive. Someone leaked a crime scene photo online and you saw it without meaning to. You couldn’t eat for two days after that. 

So when you hear the sound of an approaching vehicle slowing down, you feel a mix of fear and relief. It could be someone who could help you. It could be a crazed serial killer. 

You turn to look back toward your car, and your heart feels like it freezes in place when you see the rusty white van with blacked out windows pulling over. It might as well have had a huge sign on the side that said “Axe Murderer Inside!”

The thought crosses your mind to just run. But then you remember you’re wearing stiletto heels and an outfit that would be practically impossible to run in. Plus, whoever this is obviously saw you and are in a working vehicle. Running would do you absolutely no good. 

You walk slowly back to your car, and as you start to pass by the van, the window rolls down on the passenger side. You nervously glance inside. Leaning across from the driver’s seat is a man wearing dark sunglasses. His hair is snowy white, styled in that way that looks slightly messy but was clearly done on purpose. He has a young, incredibly handsome face, and when he pulls his sunglasses down to look at you, he has the most breathtaking blue eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. 

“Need some help, sweetheart?”

You can’t help blushing a little as you notice those gorgeous eyes moving up and down your figure. Your skimpy costume covers very little, and definitely enhances what it does cover. 

“I ran out of gas,” you tell him. “I think I have a leak.”

“Want me to take a look?” he asks, a friendly smile on his face. 

“Sure, if you don’t mind.”

He cuts the van’s engine and gets out. When he walks around to your side of the van and you get a full view of him, you feel yourself clamping your thighs together. 

Oh fuck, he’s hot. Like, really really hot. 

He’s tall enough to tower over you, and his loose black jacket does little to conceal how his toned body moves under his clothes. When he steps closer, you can smell expensive cologne, and when he squats down beside your car, his thighs spreading apart, you have to fight the urge to insert yourself right between his legs. 

The man bends his head down and looks under your car, holding his shades in his hand. “I don’t see anything. Are you sure you didn’t forget to gas up?”

“I’m sure,” you tell him. 

He stands back up and comes to stand right in front of you, his height dwarfing yours. “I can give you a lift. Where are you headed?”

“Oh, could I just borrow your phone?” you ask with a smile. “I can get a friend to pick me up.” 

“No service out here, sweetheart, but I’d be happy to take you wherever you want.”

You stare at him, weighing your options. You know it’s dangerous to get in a vehicle with a strange man at night. Especially one in a van like this, on a road where women are turning up murdered. But hot damn he’s gorgeous! The thought of being in an enclosed space with him is soaking your tiny thong panties. 

Fuck it. I’m taking my chances. 

“Do you know where the old Johnson farm is?” you ask him. 

He grins. “Sure do. Hop in.”

He opens the passenger side door for you and even helps you climb in. Like a gentleman. You wonder if this gentleman knows how badly you want to suck his dick as you slide into the seat. 

As the two of you drive toward the Johnson farm, your mind races for ideas on how you could get him to join you at the party. Your friends will be so jealous if you show up with a snack like him on your arm. You watch him as he drives, admiring his large but elegant looking hands on the steering wheel, imagining them grabbing your ass. 

He glances sideways at you. “So what’s going on at the farm tonight?”

“A Halloween party,” you answer. 

“That explains the outfit then,” he says with a laugh, his eyes roaming over you again. 

You cross and uncross your legs, trying to draw attention to your bare thighs. “You can come too if you want. It’s open invitation.”

He gives you a look that makes you melt, a knowing look, as if he can read your mind. “I’ll think about it,” he says, his eyes torn between the road and your legs. 

You settle into the seat, subtly letting your legs spread slightly apart. There’s enough room for him to put his hand up your skirt. You hope he’s thinking about that. 

The night outside the van window zips past you, and as you look out, you realize he’s missed the turn off to get to the farm. “Hey,” you say suddenly, “you missed the turn.”

He doesn’t slow down at all, but glances at you and asks, “I did? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it was back there on the right.”

He doesn’t reply to you. Instead, he pulls off the road and drives down a dirt path, lined on either side with trees. You feel your heart pounding when he stops the van in a dark and empty place. 

He gives you a sultry sidelong look, his beautiful eyes seeming to glow in the darkness of the van. “Do you really wanna go to some stupid Halloween party?” he asks. “Or do you wanna get fucked in the back of my van?”

The brief spike of fear you felt when he parked instantly vanishes. You suddenly lean forward and kiss him, practically crawling across the seat. He kisses you back, his lips soft but crushing, his tongue in your mouth, the taste of him sweet. 

After a moment he pulls away and looks you in the eyes. “Want me to rearrange your insides?”

“Fuck, yes, please!” you breathe out. “I want you inside me!”

He runs his tongue across your lips and grins. “Oh I’ll be inside you alright.”

Minutes later, you’re in the back of his van, your micro mini skirt hiked up around your waist and your corset style top untied halfway down, allowing your breasts to spill out. The back of the van is big enough for you to stand up straight, but the insanely sexy stranger has to hunker down a bit to fit. 

You watch with almost unbearable anticipation as he opens his black pants and pulls his cock out. It’s rock hard, and fucking enormous. You’ve had plenty of dick in your life, but this one might be a challenge. 

A challenge you’re excited to accept. 

Soon enough he has you pinned underneath him, the two of you on the floor of the van, his mouth on your neck, one hand in your hair and the other bracing himself as he thrusts into you with wild abandon. 

He’s good. Almost too good. You’ve never been fucked so hard or so deep in your life, and you wonder how the hell you’re supposed to be satisfied with any other guy from now on. 

You don’t even know this man’s name, but you think you’re in love. 

He draws back to sit up on his knees, pulling your hips into his lap and fucking you from a slightly different angle, one that lets him go even deeper. You moan loudly, arching your back as his thumb strokes your clit. You’ve never felt more incredible than you do right now, cumming on a stranger’s massive cock in the back of a van. 

A few more thrusts later, you feel his grip on your hips tighten as his cock twitches inside you. 

You look up at him sharply. “Hey, don’t cum inside-“

“Too late,” he says as you feel him shoot a huge load directly into you. It feels fucking fantastic, but you’re not looking to get pregnant, and you wish he would have asked first. Oh well. What’s done is done. 

He slowly pulls out, and you lie back, catching your breath and giving him a perfect view of his cum leaking out of your pussy. Guys love that sort of thing, or so you’ve heard. You raise your head slightly to look a him, and those crystal blue eyes are indeed staring at your body. But there’s a strange look on his face. It’s not the expected desire or lust, but something else. Something frightening. 

He turns and begins rummaging through a box near the back. When he faces you again, he’s holding a rough-looking rope in one hand and a large shiny knife in the other. 

He grins at you. “I satisfied your hunger. Now you can satisfy mine.”

You start to get up, even though your legs are numb, but he quickly jumps down and uses his knees to press you to the floor. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you scream, struggling against his weight. 

He’s already wrapping the rope around your wrists, pulled above your head. “We’re gonna have fun all night long, Little Red Riding Hood,” he says with a devious, slightly unhinged smile. “The big bad wolf is here to gobble you up!”

The knife in his hand glints in the dim interior light of the van as he brings it closer to your body, then uses it to cut away the clothing that had bunched up around your waist. His hand rubs over your stomach, pressing slightly into the soft flesh. 

“I’m gonna dig around a bit in here,” he says, and all you can do is scream incoherently as he begins his grisly work. 

Tag List:

@loyal-to-my-dilf @unearthlydream @noodlejitsu @itzmeme 

If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, please comment to let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged!

[johannestevans]

i think his death was just shoehorned in at the end but like. i wouldn't even have minded much if they'd killed izzy in say, episode 5 and then had his death make an impact. kill him at the BEGINNING of the episode, even, and let it carry through

but killing him in the last 10 minutes and hurrying through it comes off far more as, "god, we're so scared about our budget being even LOWER if we do get renewed for s3 and this guy isn't part of our main romance but we don't know what to do with him and his salary is higher than a lot of our other cast, we have to kill him off quickly and get him out of the way"

esp bc like. killing izzy distracts from several other storybeats. ed and stede running an inn with izzy's corpse rotting in the garden. lucius and pete's matelotage is overshadowed by the grief for izzy. the big flee from the british even was about supporting izzy and then killing him off sort of pointlessly

like i'm sorry but like. as much as they can try to go "oh well, it was a mentor thing" or "oh well, it was a natural end of his arc" or whatever like. if it was about any of that they would have planned for that and written that.

if you have to give 10 interviews telling everyone what the point of your story was, you did not write a very good story. if you have to explain that, oh, izzy was meant to be ed's father or mentor, because you put in literally 0 scenes showing that, then... perhaps he wasn't that. perhaps you made that up last minute to explain what you've done.

maybe you made a choice for budgetary reasons, didn't execute it very well because you were under stress and freaked out about the aforementioned budgetary reasons, and then you had to think up an explanation. maybe for whatever reason, budget aside, your actor told you he wouldn't be able to make it back for s3 and the same thing happened. maybe you were worried that a guy you originally intended to be a two-dimensional antagonist was being played too well and was taking up too much emotional space in your tv show and you needed to get rid of him.

all of these would have been entirely understandable reasons to kill off his character, except that like. you could have also just sent him away and left it ambiguous, or had him die offscreen after being gone for a few episodes, and yes, it would have been sad enough but like. it wouldn't have taken away from the already slapdash narrative you were trying to accomplish

like that's the thing that frustrates me about the whole thing, it's just a complete lack of basic craftsmanship

there are other flaws like... i hate how ed and stede are meant to suddenly be happy together when ed hasn't been given time enough to grow and be comfortable, i hate that zheng was supposedly outsmarted by the brits and had her entire fleet abruptly blown up in one scene, i hate how oluwande and jim and zheng and archie aren't given enough screentime to play out their relationship dynamic(s), i hate lots of messy shit that doesn't do justice to the characters being given but like

izzy's death is just the biggest example

[homerforsure]

TL;DR: it's not my ship, but they were done dirty

I always always always come back to that weird little reveal that when they were first floating the idea to bring Tommy back, they said it was to do a storyline with Eddie and it got switched to Buck because it was too weird or tricky to have them both break up with their LIs offscreen but only one actress could come back.

Because a stepping stone relationship makes perfect sense for Eddie. Something short and intense with angst and softness for him to get to this moment of letting himself feel joy and to taste how truly good it can be. He didn't need an endgame relationship right now. He did need to have his "first."

Buck didn't need that. Buck is absolutely ready for his forever and he has been for a while and giving him the "inviting Natalia to move in and then catching his own bad habit for once and backing out" would have been great.

But that didn't happen. Instead Eddie had to sit like a hot dog on one of those rolling warmers for a season while Buck started the queer dominos falling (and I admit this is a little bit from a Buddie endgame perspective because it doesn't feel to me like the show was deciding to explore the a character's sexuality just for exploratory purposes and I'm willing to admit I have a blind spot here.)

And honestly I think the fact that Oliver cares so much about Buck and telling this story well both for the character and everyone who sees himself in him and that Lou met that energy turned the storyline and the relationship into a more beautiful beginning than it would have been in the hands of other actors.

Which gave the show it's next problem. Because we can all see that Buck is ready for his forever love and you introduced a new love interest and then instead of sticking to a few episodes of awakening and moving on, I think they saw that people were starving for it and latched onto it and Tommy harder than they expected. So it's an easy thing to do to milk that for a little bit longer, but it was absolutely the wrong choice because people got invested in a way they wouldn't have if this had ended after the original number of episodes we expected.

And Buck and Tommy worked! I think you can nitpick relationship things if you weren't that into it and write a breakup narrative using those seeds, but their puzzle pieces absolutely fit together. So much so that they definitely had forever after potential that everyone could see and a lot of people were excited about and investing in and oops wait that wasn't the plan.

So what do you do? You either abandon the plan and embrace the accidental beauty that you discovered and let it ride or you write your way out of it. Give them some hurdles, some angst. Give them a tear-jerking breakup that respects what you built and the viewers who are invested in it and slowly work your way back to where you wanted to be.

They didn't write their way out of it.

And I so don't want to believe that after the work the actors put in and the viewer feedback that they were still viewing the relationship as a placeholder ready to be yeeted once Eddie's arc got back in position again, but I'm not sure what the alternatives are?

Either it's being talked about that this is the last season and so if they're really doing buddie then it's now or never? Or actually the internet is not a valid reflection of the viewership as a whole and someone from on high said the plug should be pulled?

Or the storyline was stumbled into and fumbled around from the beginning and never treated with as much care by the people in charge of it as it was by the people who loved it.

IDK it's just messy messy storytelling and I say that as someone who is not a multishipper but who does value a good story and a good narrative. They let the relationship go on for too long to end it so abruptly. If there was going to be a breakup, there was a better one to be had and it doesn't make me feel good that my preferred happy ending could come from one that breaks the heart of so many of my friends. And if it isn't in the service of a bigger, already in motion endgame, literally what the fuck?

[espers-n-espurrs]

OFFSCREEN POST

Olive Branch

TWs // CWs : Hospitals, Discussions of Child Death, Discussions of Kidnapping / Child Abduction, Panic Attacks, Violence, Injury, Gore, Blood

Connected to Connecting Roots and Uprooted.

No one liked being in the hospital. 

It was mind-numbing and draining, having to stay in one little room for days on end all the while doctors and nurses poked and prodded at you. It wasn’t just the medical staff that had been bothering Esper though. Police and other official looking people came and went, asking her questions that made her uncomfortable and forced her to reevaluate so much about what she knew. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like being told she was “safe now”, she didn’t like being told she was “in good hands”, she didn’t like how they talked about her da and mum, she didn’t like any of it. 

Esper stared up at the ceiling with an unfocused gaze, listening to the ticking of the clock. Her face almost seemed ghostly pale if not for her reddened cheeks and nose from hours of crying accompanied by the deep bags beneath her eyes from lack of sleep. Her hair was out of its braid, white threads spooled around her in messy strands like the roots of a tree, branching off into different paths. She looked like a mess.

Everything was out of her hands. She didn’t get a choice in any of this. Her entire life had changed in a matter of days and she wasn’t sure how she was meant to feel. Her da and mum had lied to her. They had been lying to her for so long. And yet she couldn’t even begin to understand how she felt about it all. Was she angry? Sad? Happy?

A small knock on the door cut through her thoughts.

Esper’s head slowly turned toward the door, her brows furrowing slightly in aggravation. It was probably more pushy cops coming to ask her about her da. Fucking wonderful.

With a roll of her eyes she called out to them, “Come in.”

The door creaked open slightly to reveal an exhausted-looking Victoria. Despite her attempts to appear composed, the stress lines and dark circles beneath her eyes betrayed any semblance of imperturbability. Clearly, the recent revelations had been taking as much of an emotional toll on her as they had on Esper.

Esper gasped as she snapped into a sitting position, “Tor–!” She was swiftly cut off as a sharp pain shot through her chest, causing her to double over in the bed, her arms wrapping tightly around her torso as she let out a hiss of pain. “I… I shouldn’t have done that…”

Victoria instinctively lunged forwards and reached a hand out to her, but slowed herself the moment she realized Esper was not immediately dying in front of her. “Are…” She began to ask something, but trailed off with a pause before saying, “I was going to ask if you were alright, but I suppose that would be a bit redundant of me, now would it?”

The white haired girl slowly sat back up, wincing as she let out a small laugh, “Just– Just a bit, I think.” Esper looked at Victoria with a small smile, “Though I’m not the most happy about people seeing me in such a state… with my hair being down and all.”

“Oh. I can leave if you—”

“I’m joking, Tori.”

To Esper’s surprise, Victoria chuckled with a slight smile. “I thought you were—” She instantly shut her mouth right before the punchline, her face falling into a frown. She looked at her friend with an unsure tilt of her head.

“Esper.” The girl stated without hesitation, “I want to be called Esper. Or, as you have been calling me, Esp.”

“Right.” The young heiress drew in a quiet breath and nodded. “Then… Esp it shall be.”

Esper smiled in turn. She wasn’t ready to be Estelle, she didn’t know if she ever could be. It was strange really, finding out that your name isn’t your name, at least not in the way you thought it was. But she could understand why her da did it, at least from his point of view, it would’ve made everything easier for him if she didn’t have her legal name. 

Though that did make her wonder…

“Why the hells didn’t my da change my brother's first name?” Esper suddenly asked aloud, tilting her head to the ceiling in thought, “Why’d he keep his first name?”

Victoria shifted uncomfortably on her feet, uncertain of how to respond. 

Esper continued, “And it’s not like I can fuckin’ ask him since he fuckin’ vanished after the second Darkest Day…”

“Vanished…?”

Esper blinked in response, turning her attention back to Victoria before glancing away with an awkward chuckle as if it was funny, “Ah– Yeah. I was the last one to see him that day, he found me during the chaos and promised to go get help. He… uh… never did. No one’s found him so we don’t know what happened to him.”

The other girl’s brows furrowed. “Forgive me for asking, but how are you so certain that he never sought help?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean like he didn’t try–” Esper vaguely gestured with her hand, “It’s just that my da and authorities were the ones to find me and Juno. And they hadn’t been told by Flynn that we were there, so they tried to interview anyone they could and no one stepped forward about having been spoken to by Flynn during the disaster. So, he may have tried, though he never actually managed to get help.”

She tilted her head. “Juno?”

“I– I should just give the rundown.” Esper responded, shifting in her bed to get more comfortable before continuing on, “So. Juno was my closest friend in Spikemuth and we spent a lot of time together. On the day of the big championship match, he was over at my old flat. It was just him, me, his Nickit named Polaris, and my da’s Obstagoon named Maverick. We were having a good time until, well, the second Darkest Day started in which Maverick… was one of the Pokemon to dynamax.”

Victoria winced slightly. “In… the house?”

“In the flat building… yeah.” The girl nodded as she began to fidget with her gown, “With both me, Juno, and his Nickit in the flat with him. And so many others in their neighboring flats…” 

She thought back to that day. Roars and calls of Pokemon shook the earth around her, echoing throughout Spikemuth and the surrounding area. The weight of concrete and brick crushed her body so tightly that she could barely fill her lungs with the dust-filled air. Metal debris pricked at her skin, jabbing at her sides and mudding her hair with crimson. She couldn’t move, she could barely cry out as all her energy was dedicated to keeping her alive and awake.

If only Juno could’ve been as lucky. 

He was alive for a while, whispering promises of life and safety to Esper in the darkness of their prison, though his body laid frighteningly still as crimson slowly pooled around him. His mind and body grew weaker by the second. He had been impaled when the building collapsed on top of them— a large, jagged piece of rusted metal had been lodged straight through his shoulder and into the debris below. Polaris was curled up to his side, beaten and battered as much as the two children, chirping and crying to his trainer. 

She remembered the way Juno’s eyes grew duller by the hour. Until they were cloudy and lifeless.

Victoria looked past the girl before her with a thousand-yard stare. The ticking second hand on the clock came to a stop, filling the room with a discomforting silence.

“We were trapped for nearly the whole day– But Flynn found us early on. He promised to go get help and… well… he never came back.” Esper let out a shaky breath, her face feeling hot, “And by the time help did arrive… Juno had been dead for several hours.”

The other girl shut her eyes and turned her head away, reaching a trembling hand to her chest. “Excuse me for a moment, Esper.” She took several deep breaths until her hands stopped shaking and the stress lifted from her face. The clock resumed its ticking, returning the familiar ambiance to the once silent room. 

After a moment, Victoria cleared her throat with a wince and gestured to her head. “Um— Mind-reading.”

Esper blinked before flushing red, waving her hands frantically, “Ah– I’m sorry– I forgot– I’m sorry I’ll just stop now I’m sorry–” The girl promptly tried to fill her mind with other things such as memories of Fauna and Deerling.

“No, no, it is through no fault of your own,” Victoria tried to reason with her. “It simply caught me off-guard is all.”

“Are you sure…?” Esper looked up at her with big eyes.

“Positive. You needn’t apologize, Esp.”

“Okay…” The girl nodded in return, “I was done anyways though. That’s about everything… Well not… everything… but all the really important things.”

“I see,” she said, finally turning to look back at her friend. “If I may be so bold to ask, do you… think Flynn is…?”

“Alive? Dead?” Esper hesitantly shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t know which I would rather, which would hurt less… If Flynn is dead then… he’s gone. But if he’s alive… then he left me to die.”

Before Victoria had time to respond, there was a knock at the door.

The girl raised an eyebrow, then looked to Esper. “Are you expecting company?”

Esper huffed in response, grimacing at the door, “No. It’s probably another officer or doctor or something. Let me just–” She raised her chin to the door and called out, “Come in!”

The door slowly opened to reveal a lanky man in a black and green jacket, his hood pulled tightly over his head and casting his face in shadow. His attire was worn and dirty and his demeanor seemed akin to a kicked dog with how he hunched in on himself and how his hands trembled at his sides. He hesitantly stepped into the room, closing the door behind him before turning in the direction of the two girls in an awkward fashion. 

Esper and Victoria exchanged glances for a moment, then eyed the man wearily.

The man stood there silently for a minute, staring at Esper specifically for an agonizingly long before clearing his throat, “So– Um–”

At that moment, a flash of recognition and utter hatred crossed Victoria’s face. An invisible force suddenly yanked the man towards the girl while she winded up her fist and connected it directly into the center of his face. The force of her punch snapped his glasses in half and knocked the hood off of his head.

Flynn Wyrmwood was knocked to the ground, clutching his nose in pain.

With a snarl, Victoria looked down at the man and hissed, “Hablando del rey de Roma, por la puerta asoma.” She raised her leg to stomp—

“VICTORIA–” Esper shouted. “DO NOT… stomp… on….” Her voice trailed off as she looked down at the older boy. A boy with darker skin than hers and yet had the same pure white hair and lavender eyes with white pupils shining brightly. Esper repeated, her heart leaping into her throat as she took in the sight of the boy, “Victoria. Stop.”

The young heiress looked back towards her friend, then to the coward at her feet. She narrowed her eyes at him, but gently lowered her foot to the floor and stepped away. “Get up,” she spat at him. A sudden force lifted him off the ground and flipped him onto his feet— not too kindly, however. The momentum from the flip threw him forwards and he bashed his face into the side of the hospital bed. 

Flynn grunted in pain, barely managing to catch his footing before slowly dragging himself into a standing position, blood dripping from his nose. “Yeah– Yeah no– I deserved that–”

“Indeed you do,” Victoria cut him off.

“Victoria. Stop harming him.” Esper scolded before turning her attention to the bloodied boy infront of her, her eyes scanning his face. It was him. It was actually him. He was alive. He… he was alive. 

That hurt.

“Esper…” Flynn stared back at her, seemingly also studying her. A ragged breath left him as he spoke, “You’re alive.”

“You left me.”

“I know. I’m sorry–”

Esper cut him off, her chest tightening, “You left me to die. You left Juno and I to die.”

“I’m sor–”

“Juno is dead!” Esper spat. Tears had begun to well up in her eyes, “And you’re alive.”

Victoria glared silent daggers at Flynn. If looks could kill, he’d have perished where he stood.

He paused, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again and looking down in shame, “I’m sorry…”

The white-haired girl stared at her brother in silence for a while. The ticking of the clock was the only indication that time hadn’t stopped. 

“Why now?”

Her brother looked up at her, blinking.

“You had plenty of chances to come back. And yet you didn’t.” Esper asked, her body aching as emotions welled up inside her.

Flynn glanced away, “I… I was scared. I am scared. Father scared me, I was scared if I came back or told anyone then…”

“You knew.”

“I…” He winced, “I did. Yes.”

“You knew the entire time.” Esper’s gaze was hundreds of miles away, “That’s why he didn’t change your name.”

Flynn only nodded in response.

The white-haired girl gripped her blanket between her hands. Her thoughts became foggy with all the questions she wanted to ask him, but one stayed at the forefront of her mind.

“Why are you here?” She asked. “Da is gone now, you could no longer be a missing person.”

Flynn took a deep breath and looked his sister in the eye, “I… I wanted to give you the choice on if I did or not…”

“What?”

“I hurt you, Esper,” her older brother swallowed, “I hurt you a lot. I didn’t want to suddenly come stomping all over it again. So I wanted to give you that choice.” He wiped the blood from his nose as he knelt down by her bedside, “Do I come back home or do I go back to whatever hole I crawled out of?”

Victoria furrowed her brows and wrinkled her nose at him.

“I…” Esper trailed off, staring down at her brother with teary eyes. Why was she being asked to choose? Why did she have to make that choice? Why was this the only choice she’s been allowed during this whole fiasco? Why this of all things? She hadn’t seen her brother in nearly two years, she had thought he was dead somewhere, possibly eaten by some Pokemon or the like. But… here he was. Asking her to make a life-altering choice for him.

She felt sick.

“I…” The girl blinked, tears running down her face before she sharply turned away from her brother. As she spoke her voice seemed almost devoid of emotion. Almost. “Stop being missing... Come out of hiding… You…” She glared at him from the corner of her eye, “You don’t get to run from this.”

Her brother gave a small smile. Tears began to run down his face, dripping onto his now bloodstained jacket. “I won’t. I promise.”

Scene End.

---------------

Victoria belongs to @victoria-vd

[chobani-flip]

the disconnect between the storytelling of the show and of the fandom

lately, I've been thinking about storytelling and storytellers in the context of 911.

like, there's two sides to this storytelling business, right?

there's the small group writers and showcreators who have an idea for the characters and plots and have to come up with a way to share those ideas within the constraints of a network television series

and then there's us, a massive international community with a wide-range of life experiences, who watch their show and then go on to tell our own story about it.

and i wonder if we're always watching the story they're telling.

im not even necessarily talking about the buddie goggles right now.

what got me thinking about this was ana flores.

and the one scene the fandom likes to pretend sealed her fate (when in actuality, let's be quite candid, it was the fact that she was a beautiful woman who dared to date eddie instead of allowing him to remain a viable option for canonical/fanonical offscreen cannoodling with buck)

"there's a lot to be said for getting back on the horse, but there's also some value in learning that you don't like horses." eddie: "i'm sorry?" "sometimes, our limitations tell us when to stop. but sometimes, they can show us where to look next." (romantic, feelingsy song starts playing) "today, he falls off the skateboard. but tomorrow, he writes the great american novel."

see, the problem here is that this is CLEARLY meant to be viewed as wise and deep advice. as a moment of connection between ana and eddie... the way the scene is cut, the music that plays in the background, the intense eye-contact between the two characters, the way eddie reacts to her words... we're meant to enjoy the simmering tension and potential between them...

but... it's not great and deep advice, not really. it's been pointed out that it comes off as ableist. and ana is supposed to be a teacher at this excellent inclusive institution; she is meant to have experience with children of different abilities feeling frustrated and wanting to do the same things other children are doing... someone on here pointed out that if they were the teacher, they would seek to understand what need christopher was trying to fullfil by getting on the skateboard and help him achieve it by other means

but what ana comes up with is this awkward horse metaphor that doesn't really make sense for the situation, and a condescending: "awwww, well, im sure he's the next hemingway"

BUT SEE, THAT'S NOT THE STORY THE SHOW IS TELLING US. the show is ostensibly framing this scene as romantic and great and deep. and that is NOT ana's fault. the character of ana didn't travel to our reality, didn't block the scene, didn't cut it and add the soundtrack. that's on the showcreators.

but somehow, it's really difficult for us to see it that way when it comes to ana.

in a way that it's not when it comes to Hen, poor little Mara and the Doberman.

because we know Hen and Karen, and we like them.

so we awkwardly shuffle around, side-eyeing each other, quietly nudging each other and going: "bit of a fail that, huh? kinda a weird thing to do on the part of the show, huh? comparing a little Black girl to a dog...why did they do that???"

or there was an excellent post floating around about whether Buck and Eddie realize they can say no to sex, that their consent matters.

"what if i come home and she wants to haaaaaave..." "well, you'll get through it somehow," says buck with an amused grin on his face.

see, the problem isn't necessarily whether the characters know that their consent matters, but whether the showcreators do. because this is clearly meant to be viewed as a joke.

eddie is a macho guy, who tends to keep his cool in difficult situations, so it's funny when you see him freaking out over the fact that his girlfriend wants to have sex with him and he doesn't want to have sex with her because her former chosen-profession taps into his well of Messy Catholic Feelings.

isn't it? isn't that just fucking hilarious?

and the answer to that is: no. it's not funny to any part of the audience who's ever felt pressured (by a partner, by society, by their own expectations) to want or to have sex.

but does the show realize that?

i'm sorry but i don't think so. this is the show that framed dr.wells sexually assaulting buck during a therapy session as a joke to casually bring up and needle him over later, that felt the need to reassure us that chimney and maddie can and do have wild, passionate monkey sex (you remember, albert teasing chim, then the hotel with the revolving room, etc), that had karen ask hen what the point of a relationship was if the couple weren't having sex...

now, i genuinely don't think the showcreators mean to be hurtful, or harmful. i don't think they realise how all these things come off. because they're a fairly small group of people from Los Angeles, North America, and are working within the constraints of a network television show

(and the point of the Eddie and Buck scene was Buck coming out to Eddie, so maybe they felt Buck saying: "you know, you can tell her you don't want to have sex, right? that's allowed." would fraction the focus of it? idk)

but what happens is that there's this disconnect between the story they're telling us and the story we continue to tell among ourselves.

when it comes to the characters we like, we tend to ignore the unpleasant meanings and messages in relation to the character, or we retcon it in fanfic, or we Fix-it with some heart-to-hearts and apologies.

(for example, i haven't seen many fics that show athena being a Cop as not-a-great-thing. but are we really ok with her saying "i wasn't on their side, but i understood their side." when her son expresses some reasonable dissatisfaction with her reaction to a cop pointing a gun at him and michael? or are we just ignoring it because we love angela bassett?)

when it comes to characters we are predisposed to dislike, this disconnect makes us dislike them even more. which leads to the writing of bashing fics, and in some cases harassing the performers online jfc do not do that people that's never ok

(of course, some characters are hated justifiedly imao, like the buckley parents and chimney's father...)

maybe this is the frustration that makes for such a prolific and active fandom?

I don't know.

but I think it's something to keep in mind when watching the show. because that disconnect is always going to be there and I know that for my own personal mental health, it's easier and nicer to believe that a group of RL people might sometimes be just a bit ignorant at times and write in weird shit unintentionally, than that my favourite characters are massive assholes unpredictably and randomly

[raayllum]

im new to the fandom, so I miss a lot of the discourse (helped ofc by the fact you're kinda the only dp blog I follow), so everytime you mention the s4 backlash I'm like....how in the world could people hate that season or rayllum in it? It doesn't compute for me!

The last ship I was particularly engaged with, has a lot of similarities with rayllum. They were best friends, life partners before they were ever /romantic/ life partners. And they went through a /lot/ of trauma, miscommunication, and being on opposite sides of the same fight, etc etc.

the difference to rayllum was that they never rlly gave each other the grace they need. They also never talked on screen, but unlike rayllum it wasn't because it was the best option for them, it's just that the writers didn't want to include it ever - to the point that when they finally did an episode addressing it, it landed...very flat? Because it was about six seasons in, addressing things as far back as the second season, that they'd apparently never spoken to each other about before (they were tragically engaged when this happened).

Rayllum GENERALLY but especially in s4 have a really special place in my heart, because they feel very realistically messy - but it doesn't feel like it's there so there's some drama to keep audiences hooked. It feels authentic, and is one of those rare cases where it strengthens their relationship. I definitely could buy that rayllum would survive anything that hit their relationship by the end of s3, but getting to actually SEE that and see how much they're willing to work through out of love and respect for each other? Fantastic.

(also like it's such good character development....i am with u in the s4 defense squad. is there a squad? If there is I'm in it)

First off welcome to the fandom and I hope you're having a good time!!

The fact that my blog is mostly discourse free cause while I tag accordingly (fandom nonsense and dragons gets salty for potential blacklisting purposes) I always worry I can dip too far into that on occasion (I do my best not to unless being called out by name, and even then mostly do my best to ignore stuff), but there's not too much discourse within TDP in general — at least not in the Rayllum corner, luckily.

I think that's why the S4 backlash really surprised and threw me for a loop, because my partner and I finished the season at like 7AM on release day and while different than expected, we loved it and thought it was great from the start. Then we went online and people in the fandom who I'd largely always agreed with were having a really hard time with the season and it was disheartening at least to not have many people to talk to about why 1) S4 is TDP's thematically strongest season thus far and that's still true, 2) it's Ezran's best season imo, and 3) it does a lot of things really really well in really interesting ways.

I always try to never come down Too Hard on the s4 backlash just because people are of course entitled to their feelings/opinions then as well as now (even if some people's tunes have definitely changed), but a lot of it did feel sometimes short sighted if not immature.

Like soo many people are still mad that Rayla and Callum broke up in an offscreen graphic novel, when S4 would still be S4 regardless of whether TTM existed and like... if Rayla worrying that she failed (again) and went off on her own (again) to protect Callum was a big logical leap, then that person honestly just wasn't paying attention; there's not much else to say there. I also think it's just a strange choice to assume that Nothing Major would change the second you find out about a timeskip; like, almost everything else is status quo, Rayla being gone is the One Major Change and people couldn't handle that being a Surprise?

Like you said, conflict between a couple is not inherently a bad thing; it can be good and interesting, and this was always a relationship hurdle I think a lot of Rayllums (myself included) expected Rayla and Callum to have to tackle. Not liking how extreme or 'dramatic' it was (ie. season long arc > just a few episodes, or Rayla leaving > just trying to leave) is fair enough, but given that it's rooted in so much of Rayla's character, I'd much rather take a long way around approach that's in depth. I'm also just Glad and Grateful that the show is tackling it and treating it like the issue it is rather than sweeping things under the rug.

The fact that Callum's version of anger wasn't the one people wanted is another issue, but again — his anger went the way I'd always thought it might if he just went through enough trauma, and even if he had yelled at her, I don't think the season would've necessarily gone any different than it did other than them crying more early on. Which I've written and wouldn't have minded, but I also don't dislike the alternative route canon took — of course they were never going to get all variations out there, but Callum is cold as hell and being a bit of a jerk while also being valid and tempering himself because he doesn't want to hurt her anymore than she wants to hurt him (and Callum has always been very very bad at being/staying mad with Rayla or Ezran anyway).

I saw a lot of pushback against Rayllum being 'platonic' (which was annoying as an aromantic person lemme tell you, as though platonic is lesser), being "broken up for no reason" (Rayla being hyper-independent was not a secret and always going to be what threatened to rip them apart; they are also still Visibly and Repeatedly In Love with each other how is that broken up), or that they didn't get to have a Big Feelings Time in S4.

With that in mind, there's a lot that also matters in a relationship beyond just Open Communication, tbh. There's going to be times in life where you're not able to or unwilling to talk about certain things (given that S4 is maybe a week, I think that's reasonable; especially when Rayllum still haven't talked to each other about it as of s5 and no one I saw have an issue in S4 about it has complained about it there) and like... how do you treat each other when you're still mad or confused and haven't talked everything out? Do you still take care of each other, are you still doing your best to be considerate of each other (even if you're also not going to be perfect)? That shit matters just as much if not more as people able to sit down and hash things out.

I think the truth is a lot of the things that pissed people off about S4 would've been true even if the opposite things had happened:

N'than is flat and under developed unlike Ellis → N'than is more developed → why is N'than taking away from screentime for other characters?

The Sunfire plotline feels disconnected from the rest of the story (nvm that Viren's arc from 1x06 onwards doesn't affect any main character again until 3x04) → the Sunfire plot line has more connections to the main cast crammed in → more complaints about pacing and things feeling overly stuffed, as scenes already change from one to the next quite clearly

Callum and Rayla have a big talk sometime between 4x03-4x07 → this doesn't give Callum enough time to be angry / makes him seem unreasonable because he's admitted he was mostly worried but is still not fully letting her in despite her spilling her guts to him (and in what world would Rayla give excuses, again, when she knows he's the one hurting and taking priority in her mind)

S4's humor was bad because there were fart jokes (in one episode) → the crowlord's joke is so much worse than the fart jokes imo and is on par with the walnut joke in 1x06. also 1-2 scenes with jokes that didn't work for you out of 9 whole ass episodes is like. you're just a wuss i'm sorry

The Sunfire plot line is boring → will never not feel like "I just can't connect or be interested in politics and religious disagreements when it's mostly about Black people for Some Reason (racism)" to me tbh

There was no way to please everyone especially after a three year hiatus (because people think, For Some Reason, that how much time it takes for a story to come out should change how that story is written and it really, really doesn't) but yeah. The internet showed their asses and I was Not Impressed lmao

TLDR; a lot of the S4 backlash was "I'm mad this isn't happening now and I'm stressed out/worried that it won't be" as opposed to "this is only a problem if it never happens at all, but I have faith that it will," and I will love S4 forever. The Callum-Viren parallels being ramped up, the theme of duality and moving "doing terrible things for love" to the forefront with multiple characters (Rayla, Terry, Viren, Claudia), seeing Ezran step into his role as king, Callum's arc being shown > told, the set up for the possession plot line, Janaya's engagement and relationship development + Amaya and Janai's independent arcs? Chef's kiss. S4 is my best friend and its Rayllum dynamic is on par with S3 for me, and I am very grateful the fandom's attitude towards s4 and s4 Rayllum is a lot warmer / more reasonable now

When Callum says "unconditionally" in 5x01 and all their stuff in S5 we know and believe it because we've seen them fight and work so hard to come back from some pretty terrible brinks in imperfect ways, and I'll always love s4 for that. The most aspec Rayllum season by far

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

You've done what ifs where Aro or Carlisle swapped places with Dumbledore, but what if the protagonists swapped roles instead? Harry Swan and Bella Potter? How would that go?

Anon's referring to this post as well as this post.

Caveat That Bears Repeating

I've said this a number of times in these kinds of posts already, but the thing is that backstories matter. Harry and Bella don't just pop into existence, informed by nothing, they all have histories that lead them to where they end up in canon.

Bella has her parent's messy divorce, her alienation from her father, her irresponsible mother, as well as the socialization of being an American girl in the early 2000's.

Harry is an orphan physically and mentally abused by his surviving relatives, at the age of eleven he suddenly discovers that in a secret society he's bigger than the Beatles, he's a young British boy in the early 1990's who then is thrust into the wizarding world culture.

My point is that as much as I can theorize what Bella or Harry would be like in the AU where Bella's now a British girl living in a cupboard beneath the stairs and Harry's now living with Renee, it's just me handwaving and guessing.

I really don't know with these things.

With that said, we can try.

Bella Potter

We'll say the Dursleys pull the exact same shit with Bella as they would Harry. I imagine Bella's almost New Moon levels of depressed at eleven.

She thinks she's ugly and is purposefully made so by her relatives (given bad haircuts, clothes that don't fit, probably Dudley's castoffs making her look more tom-boyish and less 'cute' than what might be acceptable), she's told her parents were drunks and losers, and her family despises her and thinks she's stupid and a waste of space.

I imagine Bella often contemplates whether it'd be better if she'd never been born in the first place. Where Harry reacted with anger, I imagine from what we see of canon, Bella crumples in on herself.

Then she discovers she's a witch, that weird scar on her forehead that she always tries to cover a sign of her defeating You-Know-Who, and that her parents were wonderful people.

Bella waits for the other shoe to drop, for people to realize she's a phony, that she's not cool, special, pretty, or anything any of these people seem to believe she is based on nothing. Worse, Bella would want to come clean, but she doesn't want to lose any of this.

Hagrid is treating her nicely, on the train that boy Ron genuinely seems to like her and think she's cool and interesting, she has friends and people think she can do things.

Bella's terrified of being found out as a fraud which makes her more nervous than Neville in trying to use magic (especially in Potions where Snape mercilessly bullies her and thus makes her even worse than she otherwise would have been).

However, this gets in the way of typical Harry adventures, as Bella to the best of her ability keeps her nose down and out of trouble (as then everyone would hate her again). As a result, she doesn't save Hermione from the troll, Ron eventually gets bored of her and thinks of her as another girl, she doesn't go after the Philosopher's Stone or later involve herself with the Chamber of Secrets debacle.

Voldemort gets the stone offscreen (likely eventually able to get through the enchantment on the mirror) and is able to resurrect himself at which point Bella is terrified as everyone's now expecting her to do something about it.

"I am twelve?" Bella asks, then cries because she's not a magical princess like everyone wants her to be.

Harry Swan

Where Bella is depressed, Harry is angry.

Harry's not happy about moving to Forks but it was made clear he didn't have much choice. He's very bitter with Renee about this and bitter at Charlie in general for being an absentee father. He's ready to take on the whole school, gossiping all about him he's sure, and spit in their faces.

Unlike Hogwarts, as he doesn't want to be here and doesn't have good preconceptions, it's the equivalent of him being told he's going to Malfoy Boarding School in Malfoy County, to a place where he's sure to hate the people and they're sure to be looking for any weakness. (Remember, Bella did not at all have a good perception of Forks or its people).

He, in fact, immediately does so just to make sure they know where he stands. Yeah, he knows his mom ran off, what about it? I imagine he gets in a fist fight with Mike Newton on his first day, Harry is labeled a delinquent.

He catches a look at the Cullens and thinks they're rich freaks and weirdos who moved to this nowhere town. Charlie is at his wits end with Harry and utterly unsure how to deal with him as most the kids in town don't make this kind of trouble.

Unfortunately for Harry, he catches Edward's interest, unfortunately for Harry, with his outspoken anger and bitterness he's not Edward's type.

There's only two doors for someone with the smell, Edward takes the door labeled "eat me, I'm delicious".

[crazyexdirkfriend]

Okay, I've got a sincere ask, since you've got an insanely bright head on your shoulders and I need you to dissect the hell out of Dirkjake so I can use it as a hand guide to navigating smthn in my personal life but like- in one of your posts you state that Dirk's inability to communicate with Jake is (inherently the problem) where as Jake isn't as much at fault (you tagged it with Half Joking, so im treading lightly here) but i was wondering if you could elborate on that? Unless you were actually joking. If you weren't, I'd sincerely like to know why Dirk's communication issues (in terms of fault) highly outweigh Jake's affinity for denial and ignoring all of his issues outright. Are they not both equally at a disadvantage? Is Dirk actually The asshole for his inability to express himself properly?

Hi! Thank you, thank you I'm glad you think so but my supposedly bright head is mush atm. So my opinion on this rapidly changes wrt to post-canon, but that is my opinion on HS proper more or less. I'm not like, super serious on it bc as I've grown up I'm way less hardline on what was basically a messy teenage relationship. But I was very very opinionated on it when I too was 16. I don't remember when the post you're referring to was exactly so just (vague hand wavey) Basically my point is that in HS proper, Dirk and Jake are both bad at communicating, though people typically attribute Jake's lack of communication as being at fault for the ultimate relationship breakdown, alongside Dirk's clinginess. I don't think any of that causes the relationship breakdown as much as the channels of communication being broken on Dirk's end, so I think it's important to look at how Dirk and Jake communicate before any of that.

Okay so for starters, they don't. Dirk and Jake never have an on screen conversation so all Jake's attempts to communicate with Dirk are scuppered. Jake makes genuine attempts to communicate with the real Dirk throughout the first leg of the alpha kid arc, and is blocked every time. When Jake tries to communicate issues via Dirk proxies, he's shut down entirely. Off the top of my head, I'm thinking when Jake tells Hal about Brobot being "tender." Now, I don't ascribe to the belief that the robot is being inappropriate when he says this. I believe Jake is attracted to Dirk and the robot treating him more gently is sending his mind places. However, Hal's immediate response to this is to shut off novice mode, leaving Jake to fight the robot on the harder mode. Hal is not doing this because he legitimately believes this will make Jake more comfortable; he's doing this to fuck with him. Jake speaks up about an issue and is immediately punished for it because Dirk or Dirk-proxy is defensive -> Jake is less likely to speak up. (Side note: a lot of people say that Dirk is not aware of what Hal is doing and does not condone it. This is contradicted in the text when Dirk says he knows Hal is fucking with Jake and thinks it'll teach him to be less trusting in people, and does not contact Jake back himself. Dirk's issues with Hal interfering with Jake only arise later.)

Since they don't communciate, we don't have much to go on about how their conflict styles mesh aside from via Dirk proxies. Which is basically stuff like the above. So when we get to their largely offscreen relationship, the information the audience really has to go on is that Jake appears to have upped and left without saying anything and is hoping the whole problem really just goes away without having to text Dirk back, and Dirk is frantically trying to communicate with him, and assuming that he's too clingy. We don't actually know if Jake HAS communicated with Dirk. All we know is that he's not currently doing so.

My personal belief is that it's a bit of a leap to think that Jake has gone from being vague, dancing around issues, but bringing them up when the issue is actively on the table (brobot, Jane's crush, etc.) to immediately packing a bag and going to the hills without saying *anything.* I just think that Jake is less likely to press the issue if he thinks Dirk is going to take it the worst possible way, and to the worst possible extreme, and Jake is less likely to press an issue if he thinks he's upsetting someone. If "I think the robot is a bit tender" leads to "Ok I'll put the robot on *waterboards you in the sea and beats you unconscious* mode," then "I think I could use some time to myself for a little while" leads to "Ok, guess if you need space so bad I'll stop bothering you and we can just stop hanging out altogether." And Jake, despite wanting space, is very very afraid of his friends all deciding he isn't worth the hassle and abandoning him permanently. So he'd immediately recant and drop it (until he cracks)

Now since we don't know what happens between Dirk and Jake in that gap in the narrative, I'm conjecturing. I suppose my point is that assuming that Jake doesn't communicate to Dirk is also conjecture, and not the natural conjecture I would make based on his actions up until this point. He's avoidant of conflict, not avoidant of conversation. I also don't think Dirk being immediately receptive to Jake asking for space is in line with his actions up until this point- I believe his response would be the above, or continuously "fixing it" until Jake drops it.

My point basically is that if you take all that in isolation, it's a sad miscommunication between an insecure boy who takes things to extremes and another insecure boy who doubts himself and can't stand up for himself. No one is the asshole for that. But it's not in isolation. Dirk allowing AR to interfere with his communication with Jake shuts down the channels of communication before they ever date. If I remember correctly, Jake says at one point that he can't remember when the last time he spoke to the "real" Dirk was. I just don't think it's overly fair to blame Jake for the culmination of a communication breakdown that was months, if not years, in the making on Dirk's side. It's less that Dirk is THE asshole and the only one who did anything wrong, and more that generally when people say there was fault on both sides, Jake is the one who receives extensive criticism on his communication skills. Now ultimately: I'd take this with a pinch of salt. They're kids and their first relationship doesn't work out, it's not hugely important to ascribe fault one way or the other- this is all semantics tbh. I only really argue the point for three reasons. 1. I think it makes for a better narrative reading of Jake repeatedly trying to communicate with Dirk and getting a blank wall pre-game and that wall ultimately crumbling around Dirk's persona during the game. It reads better as a cohesive story 2. I think viewing Jake as "the problem" skewered a lot of people's reading of later scenes in the text, especially when HS was actively updating pre-gigapause, and the portrayal of Jake as "the one who can't communicate" leads to a wooden reading of the other alphas by association. and 3. Hal gets the blame for a lot of stuff people don't want to put on Dirk, which also skewers readings of Hal's actions later on. Now if we were talking EPILOGUES...then absolutely Jake's issues with denial, avoidance, and lack of communication (and terminally low self esteem) are going to play a primary, if not inciting role, in their ultimate relationship breakdown. But that's a whole other post and I'm aware I'm rambling at this point. Caveat: If this is an issue concerning your personal life though as your ask sorta suggests, I'd triple take this with a grain of salt because this is a very specific HS situation and HS is ultimately a story with a plot and characters have to act a certain way and do certain things bc it makes the story go zoom. Real people who may resemble Dirk and Jake are not necessarily going to have matching issues, communication problems, and robo-clone answering machines

[shipcestuous]

I needed 10 more minutes at the end of A Gschicht Uber d'Lieb! I'll have to write fanfic and do it myself, grumble grumble. I have to say it's one of the best bro/sis movies I've seen in a while. (I also have to thank you for the Boy Kills World rec! Loved that movie, and your long analysis posts, although I'm with you that the end credit scene is such a major buzzkill.)

A Gschicht Ubder d'Lieb is a treasure and I have every belief that Gregor and Maria end up happily together once everything gets resolved. Everything points to it. Maybe something slightly open ended is the best we could have hoped for, maybe the director wasn't allowed to show an incest happy ending, but I feel like it's indicated, it just happens offscreen.

The end of the post-credits scene of Boy Kills World is such a buzzkill. Not sure when you read my analysis but I started rambling after I got a comment about the ending and it spurred me to think some more on it, so I updated that section with some new thoughts. (But this was a while back now.) I can't really make that moment better, but I do think it's insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But still, it's just like why????

I think maybe both movies have the same thing in common - German director who doesn't want the ending to be too happy because the events of the movie were just a little too messy for that but generally sets up the characters to be happy together in the future.

[opinions-about-tiaras]

I think it's okay for people to be disappointed and feel misled and maybe even a little upset Scott Pilgrim Takes Off wasn't a more straightforward adaptation.

It's a masterwork as a piece of media, of course; a AU-that's-also-a-sequel based on both the movie AND the graphic novels, in dialogue with both, telling a tight, near-flawless story with immaculate animation and voice acting that, quite frankly, often makes the 2010 movie look poorly directed. (Tony Oliver is getting a LOT more out of these people in the booth than Edgar Wright managed to in front of the camera, frankly.)

And that's part of the problem, I think.

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World oozed charm out of every shot; it's beloved by everyone who worked on it, which is always a good sign. But as an adaptation it was flawed in ways that were inevitable. Sacrifices had to be made to fit all six graphic novels that are deliberately messy and are meant as separate narrative arcs into something that runs on the big screen in less than two hours.

That meant a lot had to go missing. The original graphic novels were often leisurely rom-coms where they weren't stark, raw looks at emotional dysfunction, and a big part of their structure was the secondary and supporting cast. A lot of that had to go. Knives entire arc was cut to the bone. Stephen Stills being a hot mess and his weird and hilarious offscreen gay awakening went into the trash. The heart of Volume Four (still the best volume FIGHT ME), Lisa Miller's instigating presence, junked. Roxie Richter and the Katayanagi Twins are reduced basically to jokes. Envy Adams is given just enough to be a villain but none of what she needed to be a real person, which is a big deal in the comics. Even Gideon gets short shrift; the emotional violations and the dark, stinking, malign weaponization of emotional headspace that make him work in the comics are thrown aside in favor of him being a more straightforward supervillain using mind control chips.

And of course the biggest person to get shanked was Kim Pine. Kim had a storyline of quiet desperation, of seeking intimacy while being desperately terrified of it, romantic and sexual awakenings she isn't equipped to handle, deep and personal betrayals almost every volume that she nonetheless perseveres through. That had to go as well.

When I heard there was an animated adaptation coming, I was thrilled that I would finally get to see all of that rendered onto the screen. Scott Pilgrim was born to be an animated series more than it ever was live-action (and it's been proven multiple times over the past five years especially that animation can produce something wildly special when adapting a comic source handled properly) and it was finally going to have the breathing space to do it RIGHT.

Only it isn't that at all.

I wouldn't trade Scott Pilgrim Takes Off for the more straightforward adaptation we were expecting. The series has sunk its hooks deep into my brain, it's like I'm 29 again, driving my terrible, jank-ass car five hours to Toronto to attend the release party of the final volume. There's so much special about it; Knives and Kim's beautiful love duet is one of the most tender, pure things I've ever seen. The League of Evil Exes as a bumbling cadre of weirdos. Everything to do with Roxie Richter.

But it also means that we're probably deeply unlikely to get that more straightforward adaptation anytime soon. And that makes me feel like something has been lost.

And I respect the feelings of those who are disappointed and upset by it. Especially given that the marketing for Scott Pilgrim Takes Off was deliberately deceptive. I think that's a valid way to feel.

[candycandy00]

The Experiment - A Mr. Compress x Reader Fanfic

Part of the League of Villains Halloween Horror Anthology! Featuring Mr. Compress as a Mad Scientist!

Smut. 18+. Oral sex, blood, implied gore/death/torture (“offscreen”). Mr. Compress in glasses. F! Reader. Zombies. Horror.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Eerie red light flooded the room. You squinted and held your hand over your eyes, not quite used to the emergency beacons flashing wildly as a siren screamed from overhead. It was only the second time you’d experienced such a thing. Working in the top secret laboratories on the island was certainly not boring. 

At least a dozen people in long white coats were running back and forth, scrambling to gather up weapons and shouting into communicators. “Another one got out!” someone screamed, and you shuddered. The thought of one of those things running around loose made your skin crawl. 

A woman stopped beside you. “Hey, what are you doing?! Don’t just stand there, grab a gun and help us find it!” 

You blinked at her, thinking she couldn’t be serious. I’m only an assistant. This wasn’t in the job description. I don’t even know how to use a gun. 

The woman huffed angrily and ran off. You were relieved. You glanced around the room, watching the chaotic scene. People appeared and then disappeared into the hallways, through three separate doors. Monitors along the far wall displayed every possible nook and cranny in the building as the cameras searched frantically for the missing experiment. 

One of the doors flew open yet again and a familiar voice yelled, “I found it! On the third floor!” 

Your eyes fell on the man standing just inside the room, panting as he tried to catch his breath. A rifle was in his right hand. He looked up and noticed you, then grinned at you from behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “I found it,” he repeated in your direction. 

You nodded, smiling. “Good job, Doctor.” 

“Would you like to come help me catch it?” 

Your face turned red. “You... want me to come with you?” 

The doctor looked at you, puzzled. “Sure. I’ll need all the backup I can get!” 

You lowered your eyes. “Oh. I’m sorry, Doctor, but I don’t know how to use a gun.” 

He looked surprised. “Really? We’ll have to fix that. Sit this one out then!” And with that he waved and headed back into the hall. Several more people ran after him. 

You flopped into a nearby chair and sighed. So much for being alone with him. But I guess hunting down one of those things wouldn’t really be that romantic. 

You had been Doctor Sako’s assistant for the past two months, from your first day on the job. It was love at first sight. He had stepped out of one of the experimentation rooms, splattered from head to toe in blood, and given you the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen. Like he was genuinely happy to see you. Like he’d been waiting for you. All his life. 

He was handsome, in an unconventional way. Wavy dark hair, warm brown eyes behind large glasses, a perpetually stained white lab coat worn over a button up shirt, suspenders attached to black pants. He wasn’t exactly Prince Charming, but his smile lit up any space he walked into. 

The room had gone quiet. All the scientists involved in the search had followed Doctor Sako to the third floor. You looked up at the monitors, where you saw them all standing around in the hall. The floor and walls were covered in gore. Blood, clumps of flesh, battered internal organs, all splashed across the hall as if someone had just exploded. A few minutes later Doctor Sako returned, so covered in guts that his messy hair looked completely red and you couldn’t find a single spot on him that was clean. 

He smiled at you again. “Well, that’s done.” 

You laughed nervously. “You have an exciting job.” 

“Yes, but now we have to get back to the boring work,” he said with a chuckle. 

You were happy as you stood up and followed him to his office. Your small desk was across the room from his, facing him. You spent a great deal of time filing papers and organizing files and helping him go over test results. You didn’t have clearance to go into the experimentation rooms with him, and so you never knew exactly what was going on. But you had seen some of the test subjects and always waited just outside the door for him, ready to fetch anything he might need. 

“Do you need some coffee?” you asked, walking toward the door to get some for yourself. 

“That would be lovely, thank you,” he said, eyes quickly scanning a document in his hands. 

You left the office, closing the door behind you and heading for the meager kitchen area. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, then another for the doctor. You hummed happily to yourself as you added cream and sugar to his cup. You couldn’t explain why, but you felt extremely pleased to know exactly how he liked his coffee. He liked sweet things, you had realized within a week of working for him. And so you occasionally brought chocolates to work with you and always made sure to offer him some. 

The lady scientist who had yelled at you earlier appeared in the kitchen, filling a glass of water. She looked at you with disgust. “What are you so happy about?” 

Your faint humming stopped suddenly. “Excuse me?” 

The woman frowned. “Today was a disaster. Three weeks of work just went down the drain. Millions of dollars wasted. Anyone who cares about our work here would be devastated, not humming and grinning like an idiot.” 

“That’s not true!” you found yourself saying a little too loudly. “Doctor Sako cares about his work more than anyone and he’s still smiling!” 

The woman stared at you. “The way you talk about him, the way you look at him, is highly inappropriate for a working environment. Besides, you have no idea what kind of person he is.” 

“I do know! I know he’s a sweet and friendly person. I know he’s brilliant and kind and always makes time for others!” 

“But have you seen him working? Have you been in the experimentation rooms?” 

You reluctantly shook your head. “Not yet, but he says that after I’ve been here long enough, I can.” 

The woman laughed. “You’re in for a big surprise then. Doctor Sako is a monster in those rooms, a butcher. He has absolutely no regard for human beings.” 

You hesitated for a moment, not sure how to respond. You glanced at the doctor’s sugared coffee and remembered his smile. “You’re wrong,” you finally said. “He’s a gentle person. I’m sure he has to hurt people sometimes for his work, but it’s important to him.” 

The woman chuckled again, highly amused. “Whatever you say, honey.” 

You grabbed the two cups of coffee from the counter and hurried into the hall, nearly colliding with two people before reaching the doctor’s office. You sat his coffee on his desk and he looked up at you with a smile. “Thank you, my dear.” 

You nodded and returned to your own desk, but you couldn’t focus on your work. You couldn’t stop watching him, thinking about what the woman had told you. Doctor Sako was cute and charming. He couldn’t possibly be that bad. You finally spoke up. 

“Doctor?” 

He looked at you. “Yes?” 

“What exactly do you do... in the experimentation rooms?” 

He stared at you blankly for a few moments, as if the question surprised him. “Well, we test our products on them. See how their bodies react to the different strains we’ve created.” 

“Strains?” 

“Of viruses. To use for biological weapons. And of course we’ve been trying to create reanimated corpses that will serve as soldiers in the future.” 

“The zombies?” 

The Doctor held his hands up immediately and made a shushing motion. “Don’t let the others hear you say that! They really hate that term.” 

You were embarrassed. “Oh, sorry.” 

“But yes, the zombies. We’ve been able to create twelve so far, but none of them have lasted very long and we’ve had varied results on their motor functions and cognitive abilities.” 

“I see,” you said. “So... the work you’re doing... it’s for a good cause then.” 

“Oh, absolutely! It’s the most important thing in the world for me!” 

The doctor was beaming with pride, and you decided he had earned the right to do so. He was the head scientist over the whole lab, the top paid employee of their mysterious company. He only answered to a select few people, men in fancy suits who showed up once a week to check the progress of their work, dish out money to fund more experiments, and occasionally fire someone who wasn’t doing their best. 

The doctor suddenly smiled at you. “You want to visit the experimentation rooms, don’t you?” 

You were taken off guard by his question, but nodded slowly. In truth, you were a little uneasy about seeing what went on behind the locked steel doors. But the thought of getting to know Doctor Sako better, of being able to understand his work and his goals, overcame your fear of the unknown. 

“I’ll ask Shreve tonight. He’s coming for the weekly meeting.” 

Your heart fluttered. He really wants to show me his work. He wants to share it with me. 

A clock chimed somewhere in the building and the doctor stood up. “Time to do a check-up,” he said cheerfully, grabbing a pair of latex gloves from a nearby dispenser as he left the room. You followed him into the hall and stopped just outside a large shiny door. 

“I’ll be waiting here, doctor, in case you need anything.” 

He waved in return and closed the door behind him. You stood quietly for several minutes before sliding down the wall into a sitting position on the floor. A few scientists walked by and gave you dirty looks. I don’t care. I’m Doctor Sako’s assistant, not theirs. As long as he’s pleased with me, nothing else matters. 

You’d been waiting for nearly two hours before the door swung open and the doctor peeked out. “I need some assistance!” he yelled, but his voice was nearly engulfed by another sound. 

Screaming. Someone was screaming from within the room. It was so loud and high-pitched that you couldn’t tell if the voice was male or female. As the doctor stood in the door way, you stole a glance into the room behind him. Something laid on a table, something that took you several seconds to realize was a human being. You could see an arm and two legs, but everything in between was just a big bloody pile of goo. At the top, you could almost make out a face. But it was so distorted and twisted with shock and horror that it did nothing to help you distinguish the gender. 

“What is...” 

“Listen, dear!” the doctor suddenly yelled, and your attention was snapped away from the grizzly scene inside. You realized then that in Doctor Sako’s left hand was an arm. A bloody, mangled arm. In his right hand was a saw. 

“Yes... doctor?” you managed to say, feeling a little dazed. 

“I need some buckets right away!” 

The bizarrely serious look on his face made you scramble to your feet and dash off without another word to the supply closet to grab the requested buckets. They were large and bright orange and you couldn’t carry more than two. You reached them to him and he immediately dropped the arm into the first bucket with a disgusting thud and thanked you as he shut the door again. 

He emerged another hour later, covered in a fresh coat of blood, and this time there were no sounds coming from the room. The lights were off and you couldn’t see anything before he closed the door and locked it with his personal key. He pulled off his glasses and pulled back his soaked lab coat, holding up the collar of his shirt to wipe the lenses. 

He looked at you and grinned. “Second time today,” he said with a laugh. 

You watched him uneasily, not sure what to say after having seen something so disturbing. You finally decided to just ask him about it. You took a deep breath. “Doctor, what was that?” 

He replaced his glasses. “Oh, you saw? Just another reanimated corpse. After we lost one today, I thought we’d better try to create another one quickly to replace it. You know, the meeting tonight and all.” 

“Did it work?” 

“The subject didn’t respond well to the virus. We had to terminate the experiment.” 

“I see,” you said. 

“I have to go clean up. Shreve will be here any minute.” 

You nodded and watched him disappear around a corner. You returned to his office, sitting down and laying your head upon your desk. Maybe the other scientist was right. Maybe he does do horrible things in those rooms. But it was just a zombie. It was already dead. You can’t hurt something that’s already dead. 

The terrible screams you heard earlier flooded your mind and you closed your eyes tightly, trying to force the memory out. It’s for his work. This will make our military stronger. It’ll make our country stronger. He’s doing good things. He’s a good person! 

Doctor Sako came back to his office with a fresh lab coat and most of the blood washed from his face and hands. Stains still littered his pants and clumps of stuff you didn’t care to identify still clung to stray strands of his hair. He sat down in his leather chair and began typing at his computer. You watched him intently. 

He suddenly caught your eye. “Is something wrong?” 

You hesitated for a moment, then stood up and closed the distance between your desk and his. “Doctor, I... really enjoy working with you.” 

He was staring up at you and looked a little confused. “I enjoy working with you too,” he said. 

Your heart was pounding furiously and your cheeks were beginning to burn, but you’d made up your mind. You had to tell him how you felt, before your mind became any more clouded with doubts. You swallowed hard and looked him in the eyes. “Do you have anyone that you love?” 

He looked even more confused. “I, uh, love my work.” 

“I’m in love with you.” 

His eyes widened. His pale face became pink. “Oh... I...” 

You felt like your knees would give out at any moment, but it was too late to turn back now. “I don’t expect you to return my feelings, but I wanted you to know how I feel. I don’t want you to treat me differently. I don’t want this to change our working relationship. I just...” you trailed off, taken surprise by how adorably embarrassed he looked, like a school boy. You wanted to laugh, but realized how inappropriate that would be. Had no girl ever confessed her love for him? Had he never been in a relationship? 

You felt a little more confident as a smile tried to creep onto your face. You walked around his desk and stood over him. You leaned down, inching closer to him. You were moving slowly, giving him plenty of time to stop you or pull away or push you back. But he seemed to be frozen, watching you with shock. When you were close enough to feel his breath on your face, you paused. “Could you accept my feelings, Doctor?” 

“I... uh... think you’re very pretty and... I’m flattered, really.” 

You blushed, extremely pleased to receive the compliment but now fearful that he was preparing to reject you. You were just waiting for a ‘But’. 

“But...” 

You quickly pressed your lips to his, effectively cutting him off. You couldn’t bear to let him finish, to hear his rejection. You wrapped your arms around his neck and within seconds you were in his lap. You eventually became aware of his hands on your back, pulling you closer to him and somewhat clumsily creeping beneath your lab coat. He does like me! He wouldn’t be doing this if he didn’t like me. He’d be pushing me away. 

You didn’t dare to break the kiss, even as he pulled off your lab coat and slid his off his shoulders. He was so warm and soft and his mouth tasted sweet like the candy and cakes he was always eating. This was a dream come true. This was what all your fantasies were made of. Just this moment in Doctor Sako’s arms. 

After a few moments, you slid from his lap and onto your knees in front of him, looking up at him as you unbuckled his belt. He was breathing harder as he watched you, his dark eyes wide behind his glasses. He looked flustered, but he made no attempt to stop you as you opened his pants and slid the waistband of his boxers down far enough to free his cock. You were surprised that he was already hard, and when you glanced at his face, a light blush had dusted his cheeks. 

You couldn’t help smiling. You leaned forward and licked gently at his tip, and you heard his breath hitch. Feeling emboldened by his reaction, you took him into your mouth, using your tongue to circle his length. His hands were gripping the arm rests of his chair, and his eyes never left you, seeming entranced. You moved your head back and forth, sliding your lips up and down him, using your saliva to keep him slick. 

He made quick, stilted moans that turned you on as you continued sucking his dick, determined to get him off. It didn’t take too long. He was probably even more inexperienced than you were. His entire body went rigid when he came into your mouth, a shuddering groan filling your ears. You swallowed every last drop, locking eyes with him as you licked up any remaining drops. 

You got back to your feet and he pulled you back into his lap, his hands tugging your skirt up as you wrapped your arms around him. 

A harsh knock came at the door, causing you to practically leap from Sako’s lap and retreat back to your desk. He looked nervously at you, his face red, then stood up and straightened his lab coat, making his way toward the door. He reached up and tried to smooth out his ever messy hair before turning the knob. 

Shreve, a stuffy looking business man in a black suit walked in. “Did I interrupt you, doctor?” 

The man’s eyes very pointedly shifted to your discarded lab coat on the floor. You blushed and sank lower in your chair. Doctor Sako laughed uneasily and picked it up. “Not at all, sir. I was expecting you.” 

Shreve made no attempt to participate in small talk. “Let’s step into the meeting room. I want a full report on what happened here today. I’ve heard some disappointing things about the newest subject.” 

“Of course, sir,” the doctor replied, draping your coat over his own chair and giving you a weak grin before leaving with Shreve. 

You were left alone in his office, your face still burning with a combination of embarrassment and excitement. I can’t believe it. I kissed him. He kissed me back. It was so perfect! Why did Shreve have to ruin it? 

You spent a few minutes sulking before an idea hit you. Doctor Sako had said he would ask Shreve about giving you clearance to go into the experimentation rooms. If he’d found your behavior inappropriate, he wouldn’t ask. But if he liked you, and wanted to spend more time with you, he would. 

You quietly exited the room and crept down the hall, toward the meeting room. You arrived at the door and stood beside it, trying to listen. You could hear Shreve’s raised voice but couldn’t make out what he was saying. You very carefully reached down and twisted the knob, sliding the door open just a little, enough to allow sound to escape. 

“You’re wasting our money and our time! If you can’t start producing real results, we’re going to have to cut off funds.” 

Doctor Sako’s voice sounded strained, worried. “We’re doing our best. We just don’t have enough subjects to work with. You were supposed to send us more. As of today, we have no new subjects in the entire building.” 

Shreve’s voice sounded like a roar. “Then find your own subjects! I want results this time next week, or there will be serious consequences!” 

You slid the door shut and silently walked back down the hall. You felt guilty for listening in, and felt sorry for the doctor. How could he possibly ask about getting you clearance when he was already in trouble? Things had went from amazing to depressing in the course of ten minutes. 

You stopped beside Doctor Sako’s office and leaned face-first against the door. You felt so stupid now for saying such silly things to him, for putting on such a shameful display. He had enough on his mind. How could you face him now? 

You started to turn around when you heard a loud, sudden cracking sound, almost like a bat hitting a baseball. White light flooded your vision and you felt the sensation of falling backward. All sound then melted away, and you lifted your eyes to see the ceiling above you. Through the haze of light, you thought you caught a glimpse of Doctor Sako’s face. And then, nothing. 

When you opened your eyes again, the first thing you noticed was that you hurt. Everywhere. It was as if someone had simply poured a bucket of pain over your entire body. Your eyes seemed blurry and you strained to see in front of you as objects started to become clear. You could see a plain white wall at first, and slowly the rest of the room came into view. A tiny video camera sat in the far corner of the ceiling, pointing at you. To the left, you could see a large metal door. And to your right... 

“Good morning, my dear!”

You turned to the voice and blinked. Doctor Sako smiled at you, the same smile he had given you the day you met, the smile that told you he had been waiting for you all along. The smile you fell in love with. 

“What happened?” you asked, and you realized your voice was tiny and weak. Your whole body was aching severely and you couldn’t move anything. It took you a while to realize that your arms and legs were tied down with leather straps, and you were completely naked. 

You jerked wildly, your first instinct to cover yourself, then cried out when sharp stabbing pain shot through your arms. The dull aches became unbearable stings. “Doctor, what’s going on?! What’s wrong with me?!” 

He reached out a latex glove-covered hand and patted your head. “Calm down. It’s alright. Your body adjusted to the virus wonderfully. The first part of the experiment has been a great success.” 

You heard the words but your brain couldn’t seem to process them. “Experiment?” 

“I explained it to you before, didn’t I? Creating reanimated corpses. Wait, what was the term you used? Zombie? Yes, you’re a zombie now.” 

You stared at him in horror, not able to believe what he was saying. All the more terrible was that he was still smiling. “No... please... you can’t do this to me!” you cried, “I’m your assistant! You’re a good person, you wouldn’t do this!” 

The smile faded slightly. “I thought you understood. This is a very important experiment. In fact, today we’re going to start the second phase.” 

“Second phase?” 

The smile returned. “You’re the most successful subject we’ve encountered so far. Judging by your reactions since waking up, you’ve retained all your motor functions and have incredible cognitive abilities. You can still think, talk, and feel. You’re a perfect specimen to study.” 

You tried to shake your head, but your neck was so stiff that the pain was too great. Tears fell down your face. “I don’t understand... I can’t be dead! I’m not dead!” 

Doctor Sako seemingly ignored you. “The next phase of the experiment is to find out just how much damage a subject can take before it finally dies a second time. Oh but don’t worry, you’re quite durable now. I think you’ll last quite a while!”

Your vision was becoming blurry again from your tears. You tried to control your sobs, as each time your body shook you were racked with excruciating pain. “Please... please don’t do this.. I love you. I thought... I thought you...” 

He patted your head again. “I told you, I love my work. Now you’re my work.” 

You gaped at him, still not able to get over the shock of what he was saying. He even turned a little pink, as if he were confessing his love for you. “Oh God... she was right... the woman in the kitchen...” 

But your voice broke off when you spotted the large saw in the doctor’s right hand. He held up his left hand and grinned. “Look, I remembered the buckets this time!” 

And anyone unfortunate enough to wander by the experimentation room as Doctor Sako entered or left would find their ears overwhelmed by the sound of screaming. And some would wonder what lurked beyond the door, perhaps even catch glimpses of a bloody mess that vaguely resembled a once beautiful young woman. But the doctor would smile and lock the door, cheerfully returning to his office. 

End

[darkshrimpemotions]

Obsessed with how Allison and Scott jump right back into a relationship and COPARENTING A CHILD as if they haven't been apart since they were like 16 and as if Allison herself isn't mentally STILL 16.

Like Scott has had DOUBLE her total life experience. He's graduated from high school, left home, experienced adulthood, had at least two other relationships, and gone through unspeakable traumas including being relentlessly hunted (though I guess they resolved that offscreen?) since she died.

She didn't even get to her senior year! She's missed a LOT. She's just not experienced a LOT. She's basically who she was at 16 and he's THIRTY-TWO (or thereabouts) will all the change and life experience that implies. He's settled! He's ready to have kids!

Their relationship is gonna be so so so messy.

[wheelerharrington]

Yes I meant to say predictions for stancy

ohhh ok let's go then, like i said i change my mind everytime someone asks me that 😂 but i think we'll have something like dawson's creek ending, the one we only find out who the endgame is at the last minute, speaking of j4ncy first, i think they'll break up in ep 3 don't ask me why i just feel it, OR they'll have an offscreen break up, because i think we'll get a small time jump after ep 1 right? so we can see them broken up in ep 2 or 3, with maybe some small flashbacks of what happened, it's also a nice way to give the single nancy era nat is begging for dkgndjkgnjkg but i think it won't be a break up break up mostly because the duffers are very excited with this love triangle, they posted on twitter many times, they posted on ig "team steve" "team jonathan" signs, so they might break up but they will still be teasing their relationship, which is obvious because they will have a lot of scenes together since we are going back to s1 dynamics, so with all of this happening they will also tease stancy, like a lot, it'll be like season 1 all over again 😂 but this time we don't know which ship is getting there, and there's also jonathan and steve bonding, man it'll be messy kdgjdjkgjkg because they will be teasing ships at the same time they will be developing stonathan friendship, especially now that argyle is out of the picture, so i think we'll have an entire season of teasing both ships, while nancy is "single" and in the last episode we'll see how nancy find her way back to steve or jonathan, i'm very positive about stancy, of course it can go both ways, i think it's 50/50 but we should be positive just for the fact that they are teasing A LOVE TRIANGLE, if they were done with stancy after the backlash of people on twitter they would end things there and start s5 ignoring what happen in season 4, they are good at it, they erased kali from el's storyline, and now argyle, so they could do that, but they didn't, so just because of that i think we should be hopeful, oh and the reason i think we'll get a dawson's creek ending is because the duffers are obsessed with that show ghfdhfhfhs