#was and am in thesis jail

[smute]

currently experiencing another "if you dont take a break your body will take it for you" moment. it was 35°C/95°F in my room last night when i went to bed and i was feeling very nauseous and headachey. i must've had like 5 liters of water yesterday with zero exercise which is insane, and so today i woke up at noon feeling like a complete zombie. i had thee wildest dreams and tbh i'm 75% sure i had a near death experience as well lmao

[jamesunderwater]

after all the drama from this silly little comment, the overarching important detail of today was

i got the internship!!

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Agent Peña

Summary: You and Javi are unpacking as you move into your new house, when you come across something unusual in one of the boxes. Surprise, it's Javi's old tac vest, and boy, do you need to show him how good he still looks in it.

Word Count: 5.3K (I'm surprised it's not longer, I could write a thesis about this vest)

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no used of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) BOY OH BOY- unprotected p in v sex (be better pls), oral (m receiving), face fucking, mastrubation (f), big ole praise kink, creampie, cum play (ig??), soft dom!Javi (still being our consent king as always), Javi lifts reader up on the dresser and holds her hair, Javi's got a FILTHY mouth, THE VEST STAYS ON LADIES AND GENTS (gn)

A/N: ....Well.... Here we are. This idea has been rotting in the back of my brain for SO long, and I am finally ready to serve my time in horny jail 🫡 As y'all know, Javi's tac vest is deeply important to me, and it only feels right to support my namesake as such by sharing my deeply dirty thoughts of getting absolutely obliterated by this man in that stupid fucking vest. If you know me, no you DON'T, please do not make eye contact with me for the next 7-10 business days. 🤪

This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!!

“Are you sure this is the last box?” 

“Yes, Hermosa, I’m positive.”

“Well, that was your answer 3 boxes ago, Jav.” 

You laughed to yourself, hauling what was supposedly the last cardboard box out of the back of Javi’s truck as you followed behind him into your new house. Your official move in day had finally come, and while you and Javi had been periodically transporting things from your apartment to the new house since it had been finished with construction, today was the last day on your lease, and the first day of your forever in your new home together. While you couldn't have been more excited to finally be in a real home of your own with Javi, you were much less excited about the 47 trips you had made in and out of the house, hauling boxes to and from Javi’s truck, and unpacking your entire existence into your new living space. 

You let out a little grunt as you set down the box into the mountain-like pile that had accumulated in your living room, Javi sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“You promise this was the last one?” You giggled, your voice oozing with sarcasm as you gave Javi a playful nudge while he held you in his grasp. 

“Promise.” He laughed, giving you a squeeze, only making you squeal and squirm even more. “Hopefully unpacking shouldn’t take too long, I’ll start moving the heavier shit upstairs and in the garage, and I’ll come help you down here when I’m done.” 

“What, are you saying I'm not strong enough to carry the heavy boxes? Rude.” You teased, spinning around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, one eyebrow raised. 

“You know that’s not what I’m trying to say, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at your utter lack of seriousness in response to his comment. 

“I don’t know… Sure seems like it to me… I just don’t think that- HEY! PUT ME DOWN! STOP, STOP, YOU MEANIE!” You screeched, flapping your arms in hysterical laughter as Javi slung you over his shoulder, trapping you in the only way he’d figured out how to get you to stop with your never ending sass- tickling you until you were close to tears. “Fine, I- Javi! Stop! You win! You win! Let me go, you butt!” 

“Did you just call me a butt?” He snorted, setting you back down on the ground, smirking at the goofy grin on your face as you tried to recompose yourself, post tickle torture. 

“I would have come up with a better insult if I wasn’t close to almost peeing my pants.” You grumbled, sticking your tongue out at Javi, the two of you trying your best to keep from bursting into laughter again. 

“Will you just go start unpacking, weirdo? The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go break in the new bed.” He smirked, biting down on his lip, his eyes looking you up and down with a mischievous sparkle. 

“Oooorrrrrr… We could just go break it in now and unpack later?” You shrugged, placing your hands on Javi’s chest, grabbing a fist full of the soft cotton of his worn t-shirt as you pressed up on your tiptoes and placed a kiss on his pouty lip. 

“As much as I want to,” He paused, pressing his lips back into yours, feeling the smile of his smug grin, “If we go now, there’s no way all of this is ever getting unpacked.” 

“Ugh, fine. You win again, Mr. Reasonable.” You frowned, giving him one last quick kiss before pulling away to search through the endless sea of cardboard to sort where each box needed to go. You reached down, hoisting up one labeled “bedroom” and resting it on your hip, pointing to the scratchy scribbles of Javi’s handwriting. “Look! I’m already going to the bedroom, soooooo…” 

“Osita…”   

“Fine, fine. You better move those boxes fast. Rude to keep your wife waiting like this, ya know.” 

“Will you please just go unpack, Hermosa?” He sighed, laughing and shaking his head, hiking up two boxes, heavy enough to make his biceps flex and the veins in his forearms incredibly noticeable. You could almost hear yourself audibly gulp as you watched him walk up the stairs, the muscles of his back flexing and straining deliciously against the gray cotton of his t-shirt. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” You muttered to yourself, in awe of your husband’s sheer broadness. So in awe, in fact, that you hadn’t even realized you had let your box slip from its place resting against your hip onto the living room floor, making you jump and startle yourself, scrambling to try and pick it back up in hopes that Javi hadn’t noticed. 

“You okay, baby?” Javi shouted from halfway up the stairs, peeking his head over the railing to see what had happened. 

“Yup, yup, totallyyyyy fine, all good, just going to unpack, nothing to see here.” You mumbled, darting down the hallway, eyes peeled in whatever direction was the exact opposite of Javi. 

Oof. You better find a way to become the world’s fastest unpacker. 

Thankfully, you and Javi seemed to make an unspoken pact to unpack in separate parts of the house to avoid distracting each other, Javi now working on organizing things in the garage while you worked on sorting all of the things that belonged in your master bedroom. Clothes and sheets had been easy to put away compared to all of the pots and pans you had unboxed in the kitchen before this, working your best to put things away as fast as you could with keeping the metal clashing and clanging to a minimum.

 As you dragged the last box labeled “Master Bedroom” into your room from the hallway, you were curious what kind of contents could be inside, considering you’d put away all of yours and Javi’s clothes, and whatever bedding belonged in your room. You spun the box around to each side, looking for any more clues, until your last turn, where you found “Javi DEA” printed on the upper corner. 

You paused for a moment, letting your fingers drum across the tattered cardboard, questioning whether or not you should leave it for Javi to deal with, or open it up for yourself. You gently chewed on your bottom lip as you internally debated, trying to rationalize with yourself before quite literally opening up a box into Javi’s past.

You had heard about the good, bad and ugly that had been Javi’s life in Colombia before returning home to Laredo, so you would be shocked to find something in this box that Javi really didn’t want you to see. 

It’s not like there was anything he’d be trying to hide from you in there, right? Probably just a bunch of badges and paperwork, anyways. 

With a little sigh and a shrug, you carefully ripped down the seam of the tape holding the box together, slowly lifting the cardboard flaps to reveal the contents inside. As you peeked into the box, you let out a little huff of relief to find out that your suspicions were correct- nothing but file folders, old badges and ancient coffee mugs with DEA symbols slapped across the front. 

You began making your way through the box, sorting its contents into piles for Javi to go through once he was finished in the garage. Even though majority of the items inside the DEA box were less than thrilling (unless you had a thing for reading 50 page long contracts full of legal jargon), you did get a kick out of Javi’s old badges, giggling at his grumpy frown that seemed to be plastered across his face in every picture he took from the time he started, until he retired. What cracked you up even more was finding the badges from the first few years Javi must have started working for the DEA, still sporting his signature pout, but with a clean shaven baby face you had only had the pleasure of seeing from the photo albums of Javi's youth that his father, Chucho, had so lovingly offered to share with you.

You gave the picture a sweet smile before setting it down with the rest of the badges in the growing pile, mindlessly reaching back into the box to pull out what you assumed would be more file folders full of paperwork. Except this time, you felt your fingertips graze against what felt like tough and worn fabric, dragging your hand further along the cloth until hitting a patch of scratchy velcro, making you cock your head in confusion. You scooted yourself over closer to the box, peering under the few manilla folders left inside to spot an army green strap popping out from in between them. 

Now very much intrigued, you dug your hand between the sea of papers, yanking on the mystery item to reveal a deep olive green vest, followed by a few crinkled pictures that must have been stuck inside it, gently fluttering to the floor in front of you. You set down the much heavier than expected vest to pick up one of the photos face down on the carpet, only to turn it over and feel your jaw practically drop to the floor and eyes bulge out of your skull. Because in that picture, was not just any photo of Javi from his time in Colombia, this was a photo of Javi, in the very vest that you had dug out from the bottom of his box. 

And holy fuck did he look hot. 

Frantically, you picked up another photo that had fallen to the floor, feeling your heart legitimately skip a beat to find it was another shot of him in the vest, his dark curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat soaking his skin and the light blue button down underneath it, hands resting on the hips of his dark gray khaki pants that left very little to the imagination. You flipped over one last picture, only to find the same, breathtaking visual of him in that damn vest, his biceps straining against the sweat-stained cotton of his army green shirt, the veins in his forearms prominently on display as he held the gun he was carrying pointed at the ground. 

While you had never seen these photos, or even known about this mystery vest until today, there was a part of you that was glad you hadn’t- the way Javi looked suited up in that vest had your head reeling in a way you weren’t sure you’d ever recover from, because Jesus Fucking Christ, it was the hottest goddamn thing you’d ever seen. 

Your eyes darted back and forth between the three photos, each picture somehow looking better than the last every time you found a new detail to drink in that made Javi look even more delicious.

Holy fuck.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander even further than it already was, picturing what Javi would look like with it on now, the broadness of his shoulders filling out the vest even more than he would have the last time he wore it. 

You were so entranced, so lost in ogling at how attractive Javi looked in the vest, that you hadn’t noticed the sound his familiar footsteps trudging down the hallway, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom and watching you as you sat cross legged on the floor, hunched over the now nearly empty box. 

“Hey, Hermosa, I’m almost all done in the garage if you wanna-” Javi’s voice quietly trailed off as his eyes wandered, looking at the items from inside the box spread across the floor, stopping at the long forgotten sight of his old tac vest propped up against the cardboard.

He couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, simply out of shock that you had even found the vest in the first place, considering he hadn’t even remembered it had been living inside a box that hadn’t been touched since it was shipped back to Laredo with the rest of his things post DEA.

“Where the hell’d you find this? I haven’t seen this thing in fucking years.” He chuckled, reaching down to pick up the well worn armor, letting his thumb run along the seams of the rough fabric as he held it up in front of him, blocking your blushing and bright red face from his view. 

“It was uh- it was at the bottom of the box.” You gulped, trying not to stumble over your words, biting down on your tongue to try and keep your embarrassingly sheepish smirk at bay, Javi’s eyes now meeting yours as he lowered the vest from his view. He tilted his head in confusion at your clearly flustered state, reaching out his free hand to gently grab your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your skin, his touch only making you more riled up. 

“Hermosa, are you okay?” 

“Yeah I’m- yes, I’m- I’m fine, it’s stupid.” You muttered, making no attempts to cover up your clearly blatant lie, darting your eyes away from Javi and shifting your gaze to the floor to try and hide your hot, flushed face, embarrassed that you were this worked up from 3 old photos and a piece of police gear.

But unfortunately for you, Javi knew you like the back of his hand, and knew all too well when you weren’t telling him something that was on your mind. 

Letting his hand slide up your arm and across your collarbone, he stopped at your chin, forcing your gaze back on him, giving you a smug shrug and raise of his eyebrows, silently waiting for your real response, the one he knew you were hiding behind your bashful facade. 

“What’s going on, baby?” 

With your eyes locked on his, thumb resting under your jaw, you had no choice but to swallow your own pride, the sweet dark brown of his glare coaxing your sheepish secret right out of you. 

“There were- there were pictures of you in the vest in the box. You look- Jesus, Javi, you look really fucking hot.” 

“That’s it?” He laughed, softly swiping his thumb across your cheek, still feeling like he hadn’t quite gotten everything out of you. 

“Well I was thinking... that uh- if- what-” 

“What, baby? Talk to me, it’s okay.” 

Oh, fuck me. 

“Would you, um, would- would you put it on?” 

“Put it on?” He chuckled, lifting up the vest, gesturing towards it. 

“Mhhmmmm.” You nodded, letting your tongue run against your teeth before biting down on your bottom lip, feeling a rush of heat rapidly creeping through your body. 

“Like, right now?” 

“Like, right now.” 

Realizing that you were completely serious about your request, Javi let out a playful scoff, running his hand over the back of his neck, almost as flustered by your ask as you were at the thought alone of seeing him in his vest. 

“Really? I mean, uh- yeah, okay.” Working in a quick and determined silence, Javi began slipping the vest over his head, pulling it over his broad shoulders and unfastening the velcro sides before readjusting them, tugging the flaps tighter against his stomach to hold them in place, quietly grumbling to himself. “Used to be able to pull these a lot tighter…” He groaned, flattening the last strap against the velcro.

As his focused shifted from his vest to you, he couldn’t help but smirk at the dumbfounded look on your face- the image in front of you leaving you so completely stunned, you felt like you needed to wipe the corner of your mouth to make sure that there wasn’t any drool coming out of it. Your brain was so short circuited, at a loss to form any sort of coherent sentence, the best you could muster out was a low, shaky, “Holy fucking shit.” 

“Didn’t know you had a thing for tactical vests.” Javi grinned with a devilish look slowing spreading across his face, seeing the complete and utter mess you were becoming as he slowly stepped towards you, the looming image of his broad body in that fucking vest making your heart race and your palms sweat. 

“Well, I- I didn’t, um, I didn’t-” You stammered, your breath trembling as you tried to respond, your brain going blank as you watched Javi approach you. Before you had a chance to even try to and concoct some sort of answer, Javi’s hand was back under your chin, fingers wrapped around your jaw with a much tighter and demanding presence than just a few moments ago, sensing the undeniable shift of palpable tension in the room. 

“Didn’t what? Use your words, sweet girl.” He rasped, teasing you with his knowingly smug smirk, his words shooting straight to your core, making your stomach flip in anxious arousal. 

You could feel your words bobbing in your throat as you swallowed, your tongue darting out of your parted mouth, desperate to taste Javi’s lips now barely ghosting yours, patiently waiting for your response, relishing in the needy mess he could sense you were quickly becoming. 

“Didn’t realize it until I saw you in it. You look- fuck- you look so hot.” You whispered, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he sucked at your pulse point, his teeth nipping at your neck as a ragged moan escaped your mouth. “Javi…” 

“Not gonna give you what you want 'till you tell me. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” You could practically feel his satisfied smirk as his kisses worked their way down your neck towards your chest, each press of his lips taunting you, only making it harder and harder for any part of your brain to function. 

“I wanna- fuck- I wanna suck your dick. Fuck, I need to taste you.” You whimpered, reaching out to run your hand across his vest, letting it trail from his chest, down to his stomach, your fingertips grazing his belt buckle before a firm grasp wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand in place and stopping it from traveling any further. 

“Nuh-uh.” Javi tutted, rasping in your ear. “Be a good girl and ask first. Tell me how badly you need it.”  

“Please, Javi. Fuck, please let me suck your dick, baby. Please.” You moaned, sounding more desperate than you had intended, but fuck, there was nothing you wanted to do more than drop to your knees and worship him in the most sinful way you could.  

“Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty when you beg for it. You need me that bad, Hermosa?” Javi grinned, feeling you nod your head frantically, the hand he was holding in his grasp reaching for below his belt. “Okay, baby, show me how bad you need me, huh?” 

In an instant, you were dragging your hands down his vest, sinking to the ground as you frantically worked to undo his belt buckle, the quiet clang of the metal singing a song of sweet relief as you shuffled his pants down his legs before hooking your fingers around the elastic waistband of his boxers, tugging them down to meet his pants. pooling around his ankles. His cock sprung free as it was released, already painfully hard and weeping with precum as it slapped against his stomach, the sight alone making you lick your lips. You kissed the inside of his thighs, trailing your way up to his shaft in long, languid movements, dragging your tongue back and forth along the underside of his cock before sinking just his tip between your lips, swirling it in your mouth. 

You had barely touched him, but you were already so worked up that what had started as just a wet patch in your underwear had now turned into the fabric becoming completely soaked in your slick, leaving your cunt aching and throbbing. With your mouth still sucking and flicking at his tip, you couldn’t help but let your hand snake down your front, sneaking between your skin and the waistband of your pants as it dipped into your underwear. You let your fingers slide through your folds, before sinking them into your heat, your hips instinctively grinding down on your hand to find any sort of temporary relief as you fucked yourself with your fingers. 

Looking up at him with batted lashes, you sunk your mouth deeper down on his length, hollowing your cheeks as you took him inch by inch, watching his eyes go wide as you took the hand that had just been inside your pants back out to reveal the shiny slick covering your fingers, then wrapping them around his base, covering his shaft in your arousal. 

It was taking everything in him just to say fuck it right then and there, to toss you onto the bed and fuck you until you were begging him to stop, but watching the way you worked around his cock so needily had him so stunned, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but let you work your magic. 

“Jesus, fuck…” Javi muttered to himself, already feeling his balls beginning to tighten as your head bobbed along his dick, sinking down just enough to let the deep, musky scent of the curls at the base of his shaft tickle your nostrils. 

It wasn’t long before his hand was buried deep in your hair, his fingers cradling the back of your head as his hips began to buck towards your face, trying to hold himself back from full-on fucking your throat, until your fingers wrapped around the back of his thighs, bracing yourself as you gave Javi your silent nod of approval to keep going. Letting a low groan rumble in his chest, his second hand met the one already palming the back of your head, guiding you up and down his cock as he thrust deeper into your throat, tears welling in your eyes and saliva spilling out the corners of your mouth. His tip brushed against your gag reflex, making you dig your fingertips further and further into his skin. 

“Oh fuck- this what you wanted, Quierda? To get on your knees and let me- shit, shit, shit- fuck that pretty little mouth of yours like the good girl you are?” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, trying to keep himself together as he watched his length slide in and out of your mouth, tempted to let himself go and spill deep down your throat, watching his spend drip down your lips. But he knew he’d be kicking himself if he wasn’t finishing buried in the depths of your cunt, your warm, wet walls milking him of every last drop, clenching around him as you came. 

That was enough to pull him back to his senses, guiding his dick out of your mouth, the two of you catching your breath as you wiped your hand with the back of your mouth in confusion, wondering what had made him back off so quickly. 

“Javi, are you okay? Did I do something wr-oh!” You gasped, stumbling as Javi forcefully pulled you to your feet, manhandling you towards your dresser, your mouths becoming a mess of tangled tongues and teeth as your back bumped against the wooden edge. Javi’s hands were under your legs, grabbing you and hosting you up to sit on top of it, ripping your pants and underwear down off your hips and tossing them to the floor. 

“I need to be inside you. Fuck, I need to feel you when I fuck you full of me.” He mewled, reaching down to stroke himself as he lined his dick up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, coating it even more in your slick before sinking himself deep into your pussy, flushing his hips against you as his cock bumped against your cervix. Even though you were already soaking wet, you couldn’t help but whimper at the sweet sting of how full Javi’s stretch made you feel, gripping around the shoulder straps of his tac vest for dear life as he began to thrust in and out of you, already setting a punishing, desperate pace. 

You wrapped your legs around the small of his back just under his vest, whimpering and moaning into his shoulder as your buried your face in the crook of his neck the lewd noises of muted moans and slapping skin filling the room as Javi punched into you, his cock splitting you open in the best way possible. 

“Javi, oh fuck baby, fuck, you feel so good, oh shit-”  You whined, your brain going blank, babbling between moans, already feeling a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine while Javi’s hands gripped around your hips, holding you in place as he fucked into you hard and deep. Your cunt was starting to clench around his cock, pounding into that sweet spot inside you that had you seeing stars and screaming his name as you could feel yourself coming undone around him. 

Rutting your hips against him, the hairs at his base rubbed your clit, the friction giving you just enough stimulation to send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a ferocious intensity, flooding every inch of your body with pleasure. 

“That’s it. Give it to me, Hermosa. Fuck- cum all over me baby girl.” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, his words humming deep in his throat as he fucked you through your high, his hands holding you in place as you melted into him, your body going limp as you came. “You gonna give me another one, Querida? Be a good girl and give me one more before I fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days.” 

You were so lost in your pleasure, you couldn’t find any words, simply nodding your head as you moaned into his neck, only starting to come to when you suddenly felt an emptiness in your cunt, Javi pulling out to scoot you off the dresser, guiding your feet to the floor as he turned you over, splaying your chest across the wooden surface and pinning your arms behind your back. Gently nudging your feet wider, you could feel his broad body looming over yours, his hot breath dancing across your neck as he nibbled at your ear. 

“You still okay, Osita?” 

“Mhmmmm” You whimpered, your body trembling as Javi’s hands ran across your hips, feeling his hard length pressed against your ass, wiggling your bottom half against him, desperate for him to ease the emptiness between your legs again. 

“Lemme hear you say it, baby. Tell me how bad you need it.” Javi grunted, now dragging his cock through your folds, teasing your dripping entrance, waiting painfully patiently for your response. 

“I need it so bad, Javi, please, please baby.” You moaned, rolling your hips and pushing your ass back on him, doing anything to try and feel him inside you again. 

“My needy girl. Shhhhh, it’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” Javi smirked, flushing his hips against your ass as he bottomed out inside you, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure.

He slowly began thrusting in and out of you, dragging his cock along your heat, each stroke punching against your g-spot, so wet that you could hear each rut of his hips as he buried himself deeper and deeper into your hilt. 

You were so blissed out, barely hanging by a thread as you felt heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, that you were resting your head against the dresser, closing your eyes as you felt yourself coming undone. That was until Javi’s firm grasp shifted from pinning your hands behind your back to sliding up your neck, resting his hand under your jaw and forcing your gaze into the mirror on top of your dresser. 

Your eyes locked with Javi’s, the reflection of him in his vest towering behind you as he thrusted into you over and over, watching the brown pools of his eyes darken with lust as he watched you slowly begin to come undone under him. 

“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see that pretty face when you cum all over me.” 

The image of him was all consuming- His wide shoulders spilling from the sides of the vest, his dark, damp curls sticking to his forehead from the sheen of his sweat that had begun to pool in his brow, the wrecked look painted across his face making you weaker and weaker as you could feel the heat creeping up your legs and through your core. 

Reaching back, you grabbed on to the side of his vest, burying your fingers into the thick fabric for dear life as his pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming faster and sloppier with each snaps of his hips as he felt your pussy fluttering around his length, watching you turn into a puddle below him. 

“I know you’re close, baby. C’mon Hermosa, oh shit- give it to me.” Javi grunted, letting his hand drop from your jaw to snake down your body, the pads of his fingers circling your clit with just enough force to have you screaming his name, clenching your cunt around his cock as you came. 

“Javi, Javi, oh fuck, fuck, fuck-” You babbled, your eyes practically rolling in the back of your head as Javi began to follow suit, rambling incoherently, chasing his own high. 

“I know, baby, I know. Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, oh shit- I’m close, too. Oh, fuck me- Jesus Christ, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh-” With only a few more thrusts, Javi was spilling inside you, his spend pulsing against your walls as he milked himself of every drop he had, his body slumping over yours as your chests rose and fell in sync, trying to catch your breath. 

Your legs trembled as the warm mix of your spend trailed down your thighs, only to be caught by his fingers, slowly dragging your combined arousal back up your skin before taking it and pushing it back into your entrance, languidly pulsing his digits in and out of your dripping hole, making a ragged moan fall from your lips as he nipped at your neck, softly sucking at your pulse point. 

“Gonna keep you full of me all night, sweet girl, all fucking night.” 

“Holy fuck…” You whined, finally catching your breath enough to speak before pushing yourself back up to stand, turning around to grab Javi’s face, pulling him in for an electric, passionate kiss before letting your hands rest on the worn army green of his vest, quietly laughing to yourself in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ, Javi.” 

“You okay, Osita? Sorry if I got carried away, I just- fuck, seeing how worked up you were, I-” 

“Javier Jesús Peña, you better not be apologizing to me for being the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in that goddamn vest. I swear to God, I’m never letting you take that thing off. Well… On second thought, if you don’t take it off I don’t think I will ever be productive ever again because holy shit.” 

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh to yourselves as Javi wrapped his arms around your waist, his thumbs tracing soft circles against the bare skin of your hips, looking out at the scattered sea of pants and underwear on the floor that had been quickly left behind during your horny antics. 

“Well, if you let me take it off,” Javi grinned, pressing a chast kiss on your cheek and then peppering them towards your lips, “then we can go take a shower to clean up,” he paused again, feeling his smile against your mouth, “we can go break in the bed, and I can return your little favor from earlier since someone was too eager to get dicked down to let me.” 

“Oh, shut up, can you blame me? Don’t have to ask me twice.” You giggled, raising a playful eyebrow at Javi. “Just promise me one thing, okay?” 

“Of course, Hermosa. Anything.” 

“Don’t you ever get rid of that fucking vest, Agent Peña.” 

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem

[himbocoups]

˗ˋˏ The NDA ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only

SYNOPSIS: the budding romance between two movie stars and a promise backed by a stack of legal contractual papers. how much would you allow yourself to go through in order to be his?

PAIRING: actor!hjs x actor!reader (gn)

GENRE: romance, humor | suggestive

TAGS: costars to lovers, mutual pining | oral mention

WC: 2.1k

A/N: not using smut tags for this fic bc technically nothing happens. but I am still limiting it to 18+ readers. happy spring! I'm still not posting as often because I'm still working on my thesis, but thank you all for reading and enjoying my fics - ♡ nu

himbocoups's masterlist

As charming and alluring as he appears in online interviews and the multitude of print magazine spreads across the globe, it’s no surprise how the international sensation stuns you as he hovers his right hand underneath your chin before gently cupping it with just the pads of his middle and pointer fingers. His thumb lands on your bottom lip, slightly pushing into the velvet plush as he tilts your chin upwards. You’re unable to meet his eye, too afraid that you would either instantly combust into flames or go to jail immediately for daring to look Joshua Hong in the eye. 

“Hey. Look at me,” he murmurs. He slides his thumb off your lip and pushes the pad of the finger onto the front of your chin. “Are you afraid of me?”

He looks at you with such intent in his eyes. The spotlight that shines on the two of you only seems to be illuminating his face, so much that you can see the dust particles settling softly into the strands of his styled hair and suspended in the space between his lips and yours. 

You turn your head away from him, causing his hand to slip from its grasp. To your left, the audience composed of cast members, crew, production, and a number of Hollywood stars and agents watches as the scene continues to unfold. Continuing as you have once acted over several takes and then re-enacted several times over the length of the press tour, you look back at him with wide eyes. The expression on your face looks like a mix of confusion, hurt, and love. Your eyebrows furrow while you clench your jaw. 

“Stop smiling at me so sweetly,” you mumble. It’s loud enough to be picked up by the boom mic hanging above the both of you. 

“Smiling at you so sweetly?” he tosses the question back at you through a teasing smile. In one fluid motion, he picks up your hands from your sides and interlocks his fingers with yours. The only point of separation is the gap between your palms. “Why?” he asks while rubbing his thumbs against the fleshy part between your thumb and index fingers. 

“Because I’d be led to assume that you like me” You attempt to pull away from him, but his grasp is firm. He pulls you closer. “And I don’t like that.”

“My smile or my feelings for you?” An awfully cheesy line, but it’s overused for a reason so much that the single question causes the entire audience to gasp or hold in their breath as if hearing it for the first time in their life. 

There is a condensed amount of tension between your two characters that pushes and pulls the physicality and imaginative boundaries between their love and intimacy. You stare back at him with that stupid feeling of hope for nothing. Stuck as the character you played for months, you are starting to wonder if it is the character opposite of yours or the actor whom you like. 

“Everybody, a big round of applause,” tonight’s emcee announces into his microphone and ends the scene. 

As soon as you hear the applause and cheers, you pull away from Joshua’s grasp. For now, there is a physical space between the two of you that you would like to maintain, but the actor quickly breaks it by pulling you into a hug before passing you a bouquet of flowers from your manager. He holds your hand in his when the cameras start clicking, smiling widely into the ocean of flashing lights. You catch yourself staring at the few strands of hair that fall in front of his forehead, noticing how stiff the hair gel causes the strands to become. He doesn’t look back at you, so you smile, curving your eyes and creating apples in your cheeks as you have been taught to hide the fact that you’re deeply disappointed by the realization that you’re merely his coworker. 

But that thought doesn’t matter when he has you pressed against his hotel door later in the night, the automatic lock uncomfortably digging into your side. 

The whole world believes he goes to bed early, precisely at ten pm, after his viral “A Day in My Life” video shot in collaboration with a popular magazine channel. However, you know what his life is like past ten, how he would stand between your legs in his shower, hot water pounding against his muscular back. 

Lips swollen, chest covered in hickeys, and hair smelling like his sponsored products, you would often find yourself in his arms in bed after the shower. Legs intertwined, he would mold his lips against yours before kissing you down your chin, your neck, your collarbone, and shoulder. Finally, he would place an exhaustingly soft kiss against your temple before he wished you goodnight. You would force yourself to sleep, heart beating loudly while you tried to ignore how turned on you were even after he had his head between your thighs for the past half hour or so. He would arrive on set an hour after you did, holding a tray of coffees and clutching his script tightly under his armpit. Passing drinks to his fellow actors, he would hand you yours with a warm greeting, without any hint of what happened the previous night.

He is always willing to bend the rules whenever he can, but only if the rules aren’t set in stone by the law. He respects his partners and himself too much to actually have sex before a romantic relationship is established. On some nights he tells you that he wants to take the relationship to the next step while your ear is pressed against his chest and the tip of his chin against the top of your head. Other nights your knees are pressed against the uneven shower tiles when you take him in your throat. How he makes an effort to pay attention to and wipe away the droplets that fall from his chest onto your face guts you deeper than how you take him. And his sonorous promise about a relationship echoes in his chest and in your brain as each ticking minute passes by as it approaches the end of your movie contracts. 

The bouquet of flowers you were gifted at the event falls to your feet as you are guided to his hotel bed. The plastic wrap crinkles against the soft carpet, and stray petals cover more surface area. Joshua makes an effort to pick it up while laying you on the bed. Not breaking eye contact with you, he posits the bouquet on the nightstand in one fluid motion, with his left hand supporting the back of your head as if laying down a fragile artifact. 

He shrugs off his outer layer, the smart and classic partially lined suit that was lent to him from the designer herself, dropping it on the floor as if its value is worth less than your flowers. You feel the warmth emanating from his body as he positions himself above you, and you’re immediately engulfed by him the moment his lips reconnect with yours. 

A magnetic lure of intimacy has you whining as your head follows upward when he briefly pulls away from your lips for some air. He chuckles, a soft laugh, and the stretch of his swollen lips  imprints a smile on yours before melding and creating a whole. His knees dig and rest against your core, and your hands explore his back, tracing the curvature of his muscles to the dip before the shoulderblades. You want to be closer to him so much that your fingers grasp at his skin, only to be left with his dress shirt scrunched and balled between your fingers. 

Still, he gently bites your lower lip and tugs his head backward to allow the appendage to escape his grasp. Breathlessly, you watch him take his time to examine your face as if looking at something for the first time. You let his eyes roam between the different elements of your anatomy, connecting like stars of a constellation. You allow him to notice everything, from the creased powder under your eyes to the thin strand of saliva that escaped to your chin. 

He flattens his tongue against your chin, sending chills down your spine. And you look at him wide-eyed as a hint of mischief sparkles in his eyes while he licks away the saliva. He gives you a quick peck on the tip of your nose before he automatically shoots up from his position. 

“Stay here,” he tells you. 

“Why?” You’re confused. Either way, there isn’t really anywhere that you would want to go nor has he given you a reason to leave. 

“I have something for you,” Joshua hums while rushing over to the hotel closet. 

“A present?” Interest and curiosity cause you to rise from your position. 

“Something like that,” he replies. “Been planning it for a while.”

Half of his body is obscured by his open closet door, but you can clearly hear him unzipping and zipping different pockets and compartments of his bags. 

“Should I close my eyes?” You tease him while taking your time to unbutton your top. You watch his movements from a distance while your fingers slowly move from button to button. You have no idea what the surprise could be, but you know how you would like the night to end. 

He stands up around the same time you’re done unbuttoning your shirt. You round your shoulders and let the shirt undress you as it falls backwards and bunches around your wrists. The fabric lays against the hotel blankets and leaves your skin feeling cold. 

He stands before you with an amused look on his face. Folded in his arms is an important-looking manilla envelope. 

“Where’s your shirt?” He stupidly asks you as he takes a seat to your left. He drops the heavy envelope on a pillow before he reaches down to pick up the suit that he dropped on the ground. And he takes the time to drape it around your naked shoulders before turning to his other side to pick up the envelope. 

“Ah-” he sighs while bending the metal clasps that secure the envelope. “Do you know if our hotel provides pens?”

“Huh?” You let your confusion escape your mouth. A part of you wants to believe his surprise has to do with some sort of foreplay that he hasn’t tried before. “It’s probably in the leather room folder next to the telephone on the nightstand.”

He reaches into the envelope and pulls out a stack of papers and drops it in your hands. “Read it over. I’ll hand you a pen.”

“Is this some sort of sex act?”

You lean over to nip his ear, but he leans forward to grab the hotel folder. Instead, you find yourself nipping air. 

“I mean, it could technically lead to one. Or many?” He clicks the pen before handing it to you. “Sign when you’re ready.”

You frown while holding the pen and papers in your hand. In giant and bold letters across the top of the page are the words “NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT.” His surprise he prepared so much for is an NDA. 

“An NDA? You handed me an NDA?” Your mouth is left hanging open as you stare at him in shock.

“Sexy, right?” He winks at you before his expression morphs into something solemn. “Although, I do suggest you look this over with your manager and lawyer. It wouldn’t be a fair contract if only one side benefits from constructing it. But once you sign, we’ll finally be able to be together.”

“You make it sound like we’re getting a prenup.”

“Babe, think about it. It’s like a sequel to a prenup.”

You fear that no amount of facial procedures from the best esthetician in the industry can smooth the amount of wrinkles you are getting from this conversation. Although, you are taken aback by this situation, you can’t possibly comprehend how a planned hot night alone with the actor before you can turn into this. 

Feeling flustered about signing legal documents when you thought you were finally going to fuck your co-star, you decide it’s probably best if you spent the night alone in your hotel room. You mumble something about looking the papers over while handing him his outerwear so you can properly put your shirt back on. 

“You’re leaving already?” He lightly tugs the hem of your shirt as if to ask you to stay. 

“I just remembered my manager wanted to meet me after the event.” A lie. “I’ll see you.”

“So no head?

Copyright © 2024 Himbocoups. All rights reserved.

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but how has your opinion changed on Steven Universe now than when it first aired? Like I have fond memories of watching the show while it was airing but now I realize that it had a lot of problems that I feel like a lot of fans either flat out ignore or bend over backwards to make sure their rose tinted glasses stay on.

... okay, fair question. Let's talk about this.

I'll try not to wax poetic too long, but there are a lot of things to be said here.

First and foremost - how has my opinion changed since the show has ended?

Simply put - it hasn't.

When I started watching Steven Universe over 7 years ago, I didn't have much knowledge of it. I sat down, saw a few of episodes and went 'well, this is a silly show for kids with a goofy but loveable protagonist... but it seems like it's also incredibly charming with its delivery and has some nice, more complex themes about loss and healing and grief throughout.'

And if you ask me what Steven Universe is now... I would probably say that exact same thing.

Am I wearing rose tinted lenses? Interesting question.

What ARE 'rose tinted lenses' in this context anyway?

What do these lenses represent? What do they obscure?

Since you didn't go into specifics, I can only assume what you're referring to when you say that many fans ignore the show's problems.

There have been many discussions surrounding various aspects of the show and how it might be read as 'problematic' (ahhh how I've come to despise that word.... without context, it has all the descriptive power of the word 'icky' - none of the critical details and all of the emotional punch of scrunching up your face like a cat that just sniffed a lemon...)

Is this about something as simple as the 'SU doesn't have a consistent size for its characters' debate?

Because that has been gone back to, over and over again, and proven to be a point of opinion. SU favored allowing storyboarders to show off their personal flourish, and even though Peridot was 30% hair in that one episode, it did not overall take away from the plotline being told, which was their goal. If you wanted to watch a show with consistent styling throughout, you can always watch a 3D modeled show, but keeping that up was simply never one of SU's main pillars. And I feel like it didn't have to be.

Is this about something more complex such as the way Rose was presented?

...and how her arc was shown backwards instead of forwards - showing first the person she became in the end, and afterwards revealing all the growth she had to have to get there?

That was on purpose! And I don't think this is a problem. It's a feature, not a bug. Rose was never meant to be an ideal character - she was meant to be complicated and messy, and I think the fact that the fandom is so split in their opinions of her shows that the Crewniverse pulled that off really well!

She fucked over Bismuth! She forced Pearl to be silent! Those are both parts of her character arc that were never resolved because she died before she could resolve it - that's BY DESIGN. Sometimes, you just do something absolutely stupid and cruel, and you cannot go back to fix it.

Is this about the Diamonds? The fact that they were not put in space jail, after being put on trial for space crimes, and then publicly executed for space eco-genocide?

Here's the thing - most people I know who watched and loved SU are fully aware of that. But simply put - Steven Universe was not a story about Revenge.

Steven Universe was a story about love. A story about family. A story about truth, and lies, and hurt, and healing. About how sometimes healing doesn't happen. And how sometimes it will, but you won't be around to see it.

But it's not a story that can be all things for all people.

That is the thesis of my reply: It is a story.

It is not a manifesto. It is not a bible. It is not a Complete Truth.

It is a single story. Made by a group of very talented people, who cared about these characters, who did their best. They made a funny, emotional, well-drawn and complex cartoon show about the things THEY personally wanted to tell stories about.

Does it answer all questions the way everyone wants them answered? No. That's impossible.

Everyone wants a different story. Everyone wants a different solution, a different resolution. A different ending.

Steven Universe is one story. It cannot satisfy all people.

So when you ask me 'has your opinion of Steven Universe changed'? The answer is 'no'.

I went in, expecting to see a story. I saw a lot of what I liked! I saw some parts which I thought were interesting. I saw some parts which, yes, I disagreed with a little.

But overall, it's a good story. And that's what I expected, and that's what I got, which means I'm pretty satisfied. I love that story.

I feel like recently, there's this expectation of media, to be Everything For All People. And it's a bit unrealistic. No one call tell the perfect story. We are all simply telling the stories we want to tell. And people will vibe with that, more or less.

A single story, made by a small group of people, will never be that for you. There will never be an Unproblematic Cartoon that you watch that will be devoid of things you disagree with.

Being critical of media doesn't mean 'Criticize the FUCK outta that media, and the one with the least criticisms is the best one'.

Critical thinking is about evaluating things critically - that means being critical of YOURSELF. Being critical of your OWN reactions. Asking 'why did I like this?' and 'why did I dislike this?'. Asking 'this doesn't mesh with me, but who WOULD it mesh with? It isn't for me, but who is it for? Who would it hurt, but also who would it help?'

Some people HATED how SU: Future ended. They beat their fists on the wall and cried about how Steven was leaving his family behind, and how THEY could never imagine doing something like that, and how he was running away from his problems just like Rose had.

Me? I loved it. I think it was the right choice, and I COULD imagine it and thought it was in character. I thought he needed to be his own person, instead of shouldering everyone else's responsibilities for once. Was one of us more right than the other? Maybe not? Maybe that was the whole point?

Loving things is not about putting on rose colored glasses. Sometimes, choosing to love something with flaws is an act of rebellion. It's about knowing you have differences, but understanding that there is value in the things you DO agree on, and knowing you can consume that.

Healthy consumption of media does not mean throwing the whole cartoon away as soon as you notice something is wrong with it, like a bruise on an apple.

Healthy consumption of media involves critical thinking AND feeding yourself. Acknowledging you may disagree with parts of it, but not starving yourself just because your apples all have small imperfections.

Eat, for fuck's sake. Feed yourself. You'll feel better.

Thassit.

[vengeancemoths]

ok. yay! let's talk about jason todd autopsy scars.

WARNING: pretty thorough description of an autopsy ahead. if you don't like cut up bodies this one isn't for you.

prefacing this by saying i am not in any way a field expert in any of this, just a guy with really morbid autism and a pretty objectively concerning collection of nonfiction on the subject. i may be wrong about things! i did not crack open the books for my stupid little tumblr post (this time). people with actual experience feel free to correct me.

if jason had had a thorough autopsy performed on him, he would not come back to life* and also probably bruce wayne would go to jail.

*or at least come back with scars from it. more on that later!

if an autopsy was performed it would have to be by someone who knew about batman because robin's scars are pretty difficult to explain. it would be pretty easy to bypass an official autopsy, jason was blown up, his cause of death is not exactly a mystery.

bruce wayne might be the kind of guy who's so obsessive he needs to know exactly which event actually killed jason (if the crowbar killed him, batman couldn't have gotten there in time. if the smoke killed him....). but maybe he also wouldn't want to know for the same reason.

the most important thing is that we know jason had massive head trauma. if you were trying to figure out which of the many terrible things that happened to him was the one that killed him, you'd want to take a look at the brain.

and guys, i don't know if you know this, but the brain only holds its shape because it's inside your skull. the human brain is the consistency of silken tofu. once it's out of your head, it's not going back in.

this is inconvenient for coroners, so they'll probably spend several days soaking jason's brain in a chemical concoction designed to make it firm up. once they do that, it's time to dissect it.

but the fun doesn't end there! once they're done, if they don't just dispose of the brain separately, they're still not going to go through the trouble if wrangling it back into jason's cranium (now open on top, like an egg cup). it goes in the organ bag!

did i forget to mention the organ bag? look, they're not going to put all of his wet organs back into his chest cavity. he's already rapidly decaying. if bruce wayne gets his son back and he's leaking there'll be hell to pay.

so all the organs, which at this point have also been cut into little pieces to study, get jumbled together in a plastic bag. that they do stick back into the kind of gaping hole that the organs vacated. then they stick the ribs back in place (they were sawed off, at the beginning, to gain entry to the organs).

and honestly? without the brain in the mix i can almost believe it. i guess if jason had a really shitty autopsy courtesy of gotham's overcrowded underfunded mortuary? i mean more people who write jason resurrection fic should have to think about the organ bag, and what happens to it. would it just sort of glorp out of him while his organs wiggle themselves back into place? one day i will write my funeral industry accurate jason todd resurrection fic and it will make everyone sad and uncomfortable.

but i guess my thesis statement is that i think it would be really hard to come back to life if your brain was in 7-14 pieces inside a plastic bag where your stomach used to be.

the most likely way for the resurrection to work, in that case, would be to restore his body to its state directly before death, which does unfortunately predate his autopsy.

so what this post is saying is that jason probably wouldn't have had an autopsy, but even if he did, he wouldn't have the scars to show for it.

now, the idea that they're vivisection scars and ra's al ghul was poking around in there? i like that a lot

[redpenship]

Happy New Year! I’d love to know if you have any headcanons about Mobian culture and/or holidays, either based on things you’ve seen in the games/comics/movies etc OR just stuff you’ve made up for fun. :) Maybe this isn’t really your forte but I thought I’d ask haha!

Happy new year!

I actually don't have too many headcanons on Mobian culture itself. However, I do have HCs for their society in general which I guess would feed into the culture idea anyways. I'm just going to put all of it here because why not.

(Heads up: this post is 1.8k words long).

Thesis I: There is no Mobian state.

If you've read my fic Buzzsaw Dilemma, then you'll have already been given a basic run down on how I think this works. Since I like rambling about this kind of stuff, I will explain everything again, but this time with evidence from canon to support my theory!

To begin, it's always best to define what a "state" actually is. I prefer the Max Weber view as a state being an "organization with a monopoly on the legitimate use of force". Let's break down what this actually means with an example:

The state establishes a rule that you can't assault other people. One day, you feel that someone has wronged you and decide to punch them in the face. A police officer nearby notices this and responds by punching you in the face and detaining you. After spending the night in jail, you're charged with felony assault and the police officer is not. Why?

As a random citizen, you do not have a right to the legitimate use of force. You cannot punch people to get what you want with impunity. The police, as official arms of the state to use against domestic populations, do have a monopoly on the use of force. They can shoot people, put them in prison, and basically do whatever they want (within reason, technically, but the state doesn't like challenges to its authority and will always resist holding itself and its officers accountable for perceived illegitimate uses of force) because they're the only ones allowed to do so! Your boss at work can't kidnap you and hold you prisoner for a year because you broke a rule. The state can do that to you because it is seen as a legitimate use of force.

Now that we both know what a state is, I can explain why I don't think one exists on the Mobian islands. I am going to cite a lot of stuff from IDW since it's allegedly canon now and the games tend not to focus too much on day-to-day life on the islands anyways.

Point one: the Restoration. Since aid organizations apparently don't like working on the islands, which I suspect might be due to the Eggman Empire's fixed presence there, the Restoration was forced to step up after the war to fix up the islands. Although it's true that some states just don't give a shit about their populations, I don't think it's wrong to say that post-war clean up would typically be a job for an existing state. The lack of any central authority points to the conclusion that one may just not exist.

Here are some panels from IDW issue #42:

Here, Zavok is surprised about the lack of security at Restoration HQ. Master Zik explains that Mobians don't see a need to prepare for violence because they aren't violent to each other. This is an interesting assertion given Tails' backstory, but I guess his two tails were just that disturbing to the people at home!

The main takeaway here is that the islands don't really have security guards or police officers. I like these panels for that reason only. I'm afraid the reasoning provided by Zik still implies that police/guards would be necessary if there was violence among Mobians, so it's not really that revolutionary of a worldbuilding moment and realigns the comic with statist ideology.

So, let's summarize: the islands don't have a central authority. They don't have any means to enforce a monopoly on the use of force. Does this mean that they don't have a state? In the absence of government, does the Restoration pave the roads?

In my general opinion, yes. There are some instances that could be used to disprove this theory, such as the Everhold Prison seen in Bad Guys, which is seemingly guarded exclusively by dog Mobians:

The existence of a prison implies a functional penal system, which in turn implies that somebody on the islands has a legitimate monopoly on force. On the other hand, it's never explicitly stated that Everhold Prison is hosted on the islands, so for now I can still cope and pretend it never happened. Yippee!

Thesis II: The islands don't use money.

I hosted a poll on this subject a few weeks ago, in which I learned that most people think there's money on the islands. Allow me to argue otherwise!

The most common theory for the origin of money is that it came into existence because bartering for stuff fucking sucks and nobody likes doing it. Nothing has a standardized value, so if the guy in your village responsible for making shoes is a pompous asshole who makes ludicrous demands such as asking for FIVE bushels of wheat in exchange for a pair of shoes, even though you've heard the guy in the next town over only asks for three bushels, then you're shit out of luck and have to fork over all your wheat. Maybe the shoemaker is on a gluten-free diet and refuses to trade with you, so as a wheat farmer who only trades in wheat now you can't even barter for a new pair of shoes! Sucks to be you, buddy.

Under a monetary system, a bushel of wheat and a pair of shoes both gain a standardized value. A bushel of wheat is $1, and a pair of shoes is $4. After selling enough wheat that you have $4 in profits, you can walk over to the shoemaker, slap some coins down on the table, and tell him to get to work. Now, you might say, "wait, if you're in a captive market, can't he just charge whatever he wants and you have to deal with it?" The answer to that question is yes, but asking economic theorists to consider greed in their theories is a bit hard since they don't really care about fairness at all and still don't understand what's wrong with kids making carpets in factories since their hands are the perfect size for that sort of thing. All these stupid labour rights activists don't understand comparative advantages and it's sickening!

Here's the problem with an existing Mobian monetary system: it assumes greed! Or, at the very least, assumes that Mobians have normalized the hoarding of commodities for personal gain. I don't believe this is the case at all.

Let's recall Zik's statement to the Zeti: Mobians don't steal from each other because they are kind and compassionate to one another. I would argue that the origins of property/commodity ownership implies large-scale theft, as developing something like an apple orchard requires dispossessing your neighbours of a plot of land and claiming it for yourself. Then you grow a ton of apples on your land--that they once could have used as they pleased before you took over--and tell them that they can't eat any of these apples unless they give you something in exchange. But the apples are right there, bro, they'll complain. You can't eat all of those on your own. You'll tell them to suck it up and eventually they'll bring you items (or money) in exchange for some apples.

This doesn't seem like something we'd see the cute Sonic furries do to each other. Since we're talking about farming, here's a panel from there IDW 2022 annual where all the characters are helping out on some kind of communal farm:

Moving on, let's look at why Sonic hates Eggman so much. Eggman has always served as a representation of industrialization, environmental exploitation and degradation, and individualist greed. If the islands had a monetary system, and the ideals required to develop one in the first place, then a lot of what Eggman is attempting to implement would have already existed! Economic development requires exploitation, both of other people and natural resources. Money is the result of economic development. It just doesn't fit for me.

Thesis III: Equity as a norm.

This is basically the section on culture. Leading up to this section, I've established a rule: Mobians live in a stateless and moneyless society. Here are some cultural norms that might have lead to such a society in modern times.

Ecology as a priority. This is consistent with the environmentalist themes in the series, but also with the way that most Mobians we meet in the series seem to really care about the environment. My personal take is that they simply haven't developed the view that they are above nature, which is something seen in Eggman and other industrialists. In Sonic Prime, we see Thorn Rose react aggressively when she notices that her friends harming plants by taking more than they need from them. This may have been because they violated a strict cultural norm! Although this occurred in an alternate dimension, I like to think about its implications for the main universe, too. Is the cultural pressure to maintain and protect the land they live on enough to suppress industrial development? Maybe!

Conformity as a means of social cohesion. Generally, I think Mobian society demands a lot of personal sacrifice from people. A core tenant of collectivism is that you have to put up with not getting what you want most of the time, and sometimes this even comes at a direct cost to you. Maybe your neighbour stole your favourite toy truck and you can't complain about it or everyone will accuse you of trying to establish private ownership over something stupid. Or, maybe, there hasn't been a lot of rain this year and your communal farms are flopping. Out of desperation one day, you wander into the woods and find some bushes of edible berries that could help you survive better for the next few days. However, since eating while your neighbours starve would violate the ethical values imposed on your by your collectivist society, you must accept only having a few berries instead and sharing the rest with your village. If you're someone like Tails, who stands out because of a physical mutation, then tough luck if your village cares about appearances. Everyone knows your business and you're dependent on them for support. As soon as they decide they don't like you, you're going to suffer severely. Upsides and downsides to everything.

Alternate methods of punishment. A society without a state likely wouldn't have prisons. Building on the concept of conformity, social crimes would be mitigated through social pressure--basically, if you do something wrong, everyone will be mean to you and not like you as much as they did before. Fear of risking the judgment of peers is a very strong deterrent for most crimes, arguably moreso than prison itself.

Everything I've written here is my basic take on Mobian culture and society! In terms of holidays, I'm sure they have stuff relating to harvest times and seasonal changes.

Thanks for the question!! Sorry if this isn't what you wanted at all haha.

[jebiknights]

I'm sure I've made a post about this before but I just saw a post about forgiving yourself and prison abolitionism that made me think of this and it is genuinely sad to me that one of the KEY THEMES in star wars is about redemption and forgiveness, that no one is too far from the light to return to it you only have to grab that hand that is reaching out for you or extend a hand out in need yourself. That power corrupts but love saves, love heals.

And yet large parts of this fandom give no grace to these characters and refuses to forgive mistakes and constantly talks about punishment and jail and "consequences" and even using therapy as a weapon against people who are hurting so much they are causing harm. The lack of compassion in the "compassion is good" fandom is mind-blowing.

And I know some people see posts like this and go "oh it's just fiction" and "oh you're just mad people don't like your fave character" but people don't seem to realize that your real life views can in fact inform how you interact with media (and vice versa) and it's so so so telling the way people talk about the characters in fandom that have been manipulated, that have been brainwashed, that have been groomed, that are addicts, etc. like I am not just talking about one character this is a worrying trend across this fandom and all fandoms really but it bothers me especially in this fandom when redemption and forgiveness and moving on are core tenants of not only the Jedi faith but also the thesis of the series (or at least the saga). So many in this fandom and beyond have this deep seated desire to punish people and that's worrying!

[jaarijani]

Meow there :3 your jure piece so good 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛🩷💛💛💛💛

I love his kitty face so much 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛. Love it. Love it so much like >:3 love it, my new fav face. So good. So very very very good 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛. I reblogged it already (well its in the queue because i got put in post limit jail for the second time this week) which is why i am sending this ask now, to tell you how very much i like it :3. 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

Happy Jure day to you as well ���🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛🧡💛💛💛💛💛💛💛🧡💛💛💛💛🧡🧡💛💛💛🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

HAHAHAH OHNO @TUMBLR RELEASE JAY FROM POST LIMIT JAIL!!!! we need our daily dose of unchained unlimited excitement!!!!! especially on jure day that's just jayphobic 😤

thank you for your joy Jay!!! I promise I'll draw you a full jure piece once I'm done with my thesis and have time again 😌💛🧡💛🧡 the kitty is on my list i will get to him i promise you 💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛

[mothwithapencil]

How do you like Antigravity? And why are you always saying things are canon when they aren’t? You say Ghetsis and Colress are “canonically” best friends, yet they only are friends in the manga, which isn’t a canon universe. Don’t try to argue that it’s canon to the manga or anime, since they aren’t canon Pokemon universes. Another thing that doesn’t make sense is how you say Ghetsis and Colress are both around 43. Ghetsis clearly looks around 60 and has a 22 year old son. I doubt he would have a son at 21. Colress looks more around N’s age than 43. You’re just saying this so that you can ship this without feeling creepy. You also know that their only dialogue on screen together is Colress telling Ghetsis that he hates him, right? And whenever they mention eachother it’s in a hateful way? It’s not to avoid going to jail, Colress wouldn’t say that to a 12 year old because he thinks he’d go to jail. Also, Ghetsis talks negatively about Colress, so this take makes no sense. Not only that, but if Colress doesn’t want to be arrested, why would he even be working for Team Plasma? Hes a scientist, he can find other jobs. Everything you say to back up your ship makes no sense.

Great question! I like antigrav because it's good and doesn't hurt anybody. Your views are your own and that doesn't make them inherently correct nor does it give you permission to enforce them on people. Mine are my own and I never said they were inherently correct nor am i a huge dick about it. You're super fucking weird for coming into my asks to drop a thesis statement, trying to make me feel creepy for shipping two consenting adults together because of your personal interpretations of them. I hope someday you learn to be normal towards strangers and stop trying to flex your moral superiority over mentally ill people by telling them they're secretly evil and creepy and bad over a normal ass ship they like

[cere-mon-ials]

2022 in kdramas

*that I finished

I spent my January nursing all that The Red Sleeve broke (my heart), nourishing what it gave me (provocation to write, notes here), cursing what it did for my overall k-drama viewing expectations. I am still mad that Lee Se-young wasn’t recognised for what she did in TRS, a show that belongs to Deok-im and her alone. I had finished Good Manager a day before, a long-winded bromance between Namkoong Min and Lee Jun-ho. I didn’t think much and truth be told, I don’t remember much either. Happiness fell flat after three episodes; stayed for the remaining episodes because of the excellent chemistry between the main characters. I evidently watched Coffee Prince many years too late but I saw every reason why I might have never finished school if I had seen it earlier.

Run On kept me thrilled on occasion, became white noise otherwise. I loved seeing my two joys, running and translation, woven into the show, loved the miracle of found friendships and homes, and a defiant writing philosophy that healthy relationships are worthy of being probed. Despite how unbearable Our Beloved Summer was about Ji-woong’s unrequited love, I could see the good-naturedness of the story writer-nim was trying to tell. I loved watching why the two leads fell apart and what brought them together. I loved that this had something to do with communication but I loved even more, that it just had to do with having grown up and realising you can love something you’re not and that’s one way to experience life. Kairos is the most underappreciated show that tackles time-travel. Great writing with exceptional attention to detail.

February was spent with the duology of the Ahn Pan-seok—Kim Eun—Jung Hae-in universe, the k-drama equivalent of Austenian bliss. Both shows benefit from Kim Eun’s thesis that romance may be intimate but love, in a patriarchy, demands a public that must accept it. Ahn Pan-seok is the finest orchestrator of moments that feel like the time lapse that falling in love is, that thing that people often reduce to soulmatism or violins at first glance. In One Spring Night, it works. In Something in the Rain, it fails because Kim Eun was still finding her voice as a writer who is stumped by what makes for the ‘right’ kind of conflicts in a 16-episode arc. I don’t think that’s the only problem with SITR but it’s the one she solved with marvelous elegance in OSN. In both shows, the main leads are charmingly, refreshingly communicative with each other. But it is in OSN, where Kim Eun figures out that being vulnerable is not the same as talking about vulnerable things, and how to make it count for all relationships that matter. Son Ye-jin and Han Ji-min, I love you both equally.

In March, I began paying an honorarium to the guard of my Jang Hyuk horny jail. Deep-rooted Tree made me cry in at least 14/24 episodes. A Joseon murder mystery wrapped in a drama about accessible language as the beginning to breaking down class barriers and nation-building, with nerdy love for character interiority? I ate that up. Han Seok-kyu is the only reel King Sejong ever. Just like Jang Hyuk is the only reel Bang Won ever. My Country: The New Age is a shallow show with hilarously lofty dialogues and masterful action sequences. In my most generous reading, MCTNA attempted to ask if Bang Won’s modernity could have come at a lesser price; is modernity not equivalent to audacity? Woo Do-hwan is almost as good at portraying audacity as Jang Hyuk.

Having Park Eun-bin and Kim Min-jae play Brahms in a riveting duet is exactly what Do You Like Brahms? set out to do. Introverts are rarely done well on the screen and getting it right with not one, but two leads is an achievement too. If you are a person fuelled by that mystical "passion," the creative arts industry can be a cruel place. Chae Song-ah is, by all accounts, not as talented as the others around her, and this is not a story of stick-with-it-till-you-rise-from-the-ashes. Even the hope that it might be is wonderful writing because Song-ah is far more assertive than anybody gives her credit for, like a baby who holds onto your finger with shocking strength. In classical music especially, there is no such thing: you are good or you are out. Park Joon-young is great and yet, he is begging for an out, because being good is just the beginning. These two and the other characters are deeply in love with music and they want to protect that love. They all find out that in the end that love needs sustenance, not protection.

I binged Fated to Love You in April, in a private experiment to see how much Jang Hyuk brainrot I can take. (Let’s remember this is a summary of the shows I finished.) I came out of it with brainrot for one more Jang. Outrageous show, outrageous star power. Soundtrack No. 1 was a forgettable experience save for the fact that I am now a person who looks up Park Hyung-sik’s MDL page on the reg. I think everybody is right about Twenty-Five Twenty-One: (a) Baek Ye-jin and Na Hee-do were always going to break up (b) It was a terribly-conceived finale. Two other opinions I am going to leave here: (c) Ji Seung-wan, darling of my heart, should have been the lead for the show that writer-nim actually wanted to do. (d) More people would see this, and also may have responded with thoughts beyond ship discourse, if Na Hee-do was played by anyone other than Kim Tae-ri.

I think people were right about criticising Lee Soo-yeon’s Grid too. The science of time-travel took some leniency. I get why the finale would have been unsatisfying, even as a setup for a potential second season. But I offer that the thesis of LSY’s shows is never in how they end, because they are not moral science lessons for the future. Grid’s deeply introspective themes of time-travel and the greater good begins with the the sun, the most reliable force in a human's life, turning against mankind. This immediately takes away a human as ultimate antagonist, when it easily could have been. For LSY, the future is the darkest place with unknowable power and we have the task of paving a path of light towards it. Time-travel is not the science-fiction component with which to imagine our behaviour in an unrecognisable, but possible, place. It’s the fucking fantasy. Even if we got the chance to change the past, we really couldn't. The future is what we have got to change and the present to make the first move. Those dreams of going back, repenting hard enough, flirting with what ifs? Not going to cut it. LSY's meta elegance is in bringing the intensely personal version of this theme in parallel to the big one: divorce. FWIW, she had all these threads tie together by Episode 7. I get why she said Grid is the next iteration of her life's work—an exceptional mind.

Park Min-young could have chemistry with a rock, and thank god, Seo Kang-joon isn’t one. When The Weather Is Fine is the rightest show about life in the countryside. It nails the fine line of a tight-knit community that shows up for you and also, how easily they can be the first source of judgement, as people who know your secrets. Best book club in a k-drama. Very well done pining. Imo is my favourite character and she should publish that novel because “Hey. Who do you think killed my brother-in-law?” is a banger opening line. I first saw Lee Jae-wook in this show.

During the weekends of April and May, there was My Liberation Notes. I watched it like a scheduled therapy session, although I do not think Park Hae-young is aiming for catharsis with her works (despite it seeming like the most common outcome). I didn’t have the word “healing” in my everyday vocabulary so often before k-dramas. It’s a genre of k-drama that is meant to be comforting, to inject slowness into everyday life as an antidote for the ills of modern society. Bullshit. There are multiple wide shots of the Yeom family tending their farms, eating in peace amid the greenery, and they are claustrophobic. It might feel like complaints, and you’re free to think that. But PHY knows, as most people my generation do, finding an escape is actually really easy. That’s not the point. The point is to be less sad about being who you are; to know that who you are is enough to make a living, find love if you want it, make peace with your family. This show is about siblings as the real loves of your lives.

I don’t remember what I was doing in June.

Pachinko is not a k-drama strictly speaking, but let’s do it. I adore Min Jin Lee and I am afraid to admit how emotionally attached I am to the world of Kogonada’s eyes. In MJL's book, the linear structure is meant to make you feel like the history of a family can also be a history of the other themes that consume intellectual space. In the show, there is no such thing as a past, or a history. Nothing is done, nothing is over and under the rug. You see Sun-ja’s and Solomon’s stories at the same time because there's no distance that makes what happened then far enough from what's happening now. For this alone, Pachinko is a superior adaptation. I have a shrine for every woman in this show. Watching Yumi’s Cells 2 has been among the happiest experiences of my TV viewing life. Bloody Heart could have been bloodier. I respected that it reached a conclusion without feeling the need to give a neat answer to its central question of assertive power as driver of both unity and chaos—there’s humility in realising that the answer need not be determined in one generation. Jang Hyuk thirst got me into the show, Kang Hanna’s outstanding face and smarts kept me there. Lee Joon’s Lee Tae nearly made me quit. Park Ji-yeon, muah. I watched the back half of Signal in July. It is no fault of the show that I was zapped out of will to see women being killed. There were two scenes of Kim Hye-soo’s that wrecked me bad, I had to quit watching for couple of days. Thank you to the makers for giving a genre-defining template. (Kairos did do it better.)

Alchemy of Souls was super fun as a weekly watch. Daeho is boring to me as a setting and the plot ventures into territories worthy of critical thought once in a blue moon. But I admire the ambition, and the storytelling does have its moments. Lee Jae-wook is a menace. Inhaled Rookie Historian Goo Hae-ryung over four days; I enjoyed it. Extraordinary Attorney Woo tried. I also binged Reply 1997. Reply 1988 is always going to be my favourite and I am not going to watch R1994 for a conclusive test of veracity.

Between these shows, their endearing efforts at being fulfilling shows about love of different kinds, I nibbled on episodes of My Mister. I couldn’t watch two episodes together; it was so potent, so unbelievably demanding of my attention in every way imaginable, and I gave it willingly. I wrote about the show here.

October brought the best mystery/thriller show of the year: May It Please The Court. It was written with a clear idea of how much to bite, knew how to chew on it, and that’s why it also landed the best conclusion of the year. The show is astute about forgiveness and justice, and well, forgiveness in justice. I think the show’s success is in how it trusted both its characters and the audience to process what this means to them. Jung Ryeo-won and Lee Kyu-hyung have impeccable married energy from first scene. Lee Sang-hee is the best, the hottest, the finest.

Little Women is the mystery/thriller show with the most potential of the year. It wasn’t until episode 11 that the show lost me but I do think the flaws began revealing themselves a lot earlier. I didn’t appreciate the show’s insistence that the central crime of the show was Sang-ah’s murders and not the patriarchal cult that pretends to be a meritocracy. I thought the Vietnam War references were in conversation for a whole different reason: I viewed it as a nod to the first war where losing means more than winning. That war is the blueprint for the 21st century exertion of control for the right to capital and target audience, rather than mere territory and pride. But this symbolism wasn’t what came through and I understand those who pushed back on how the war's references, along with an exotic flower, rang hollow. LW did get characterisation right, particularly the way poverty alters how intelligence is perceived and valued. It’s ambitious premise—that Louisa May Alcott was wrong in deciding these sisters would taper their poverty with unusual politeness—is radical.

I will rewatch the first 11 episodes of May I Help You in several trying days of my future. Baek Dong-joo and Kim Tae-hee, butlers to the dead and the alive respectively, are companions, friends and lovers, in that order. What's not to love? The acts asked of them are rarely grand but they are delivered with emotional heft. I forgive all the detours taken from episode 12. I tend to find it dull when everybody and everything is connected to each other. In this one's ending, it's quite lovely. I see the vision in saying that we only know Dong-joo’s story because that’s the story we have tuned into. The miracles could be happening to anyone at all. I wish writer-nim wasn’t so Christian throughout—the throwaway line about suicide put me off. Best piggy-backing scenes in a rom-com and also, favourite kiss, I am going to say.

[goldxnfemme]

It's a long-ish video, but it's worth watching.

ID - tiktok video from user gaygtownbae, stitching a video from someone criticising people "cheering on the death of billionaires" on the submarine situation and they go on to say:

So I want to talk about ethics versus morals. My name is Evan, I am a bioethicist and I did my thesis on misinformation, disinformation and conspiracy theories as a threat to public health. So there's been quite a few of these videos about how people are very upset

(Note number 1 and it says "Note* I made this video a few hours before the announcement about finding the remnants of the vessel, so the language reflects them still missing")

that folks are cheering on the loss of this submarine because it had billionaires in it and I want to talk about how that is in a way considered ethically neutral.

So for the folks who are saying this is really terrible, like we shouldn't be cheering on the fact that there are people in a really dire situation, who are clearly gonna lose their lives, what you are describing is your moral stance that you do not feel comfortable or you don't want to cheer on people being trapped at the bottom of the sea. (note 2 comes in and it says "Dark humor is a valuable technique/tool, especially as an expression of trauma and/or oppression")

You're making an individualized argument, which is fine, that's, totally, that's absolutely the right thing to do, nobody is denying that, but you're having a conversation with people who are cheering on a societal change. Something that has happened in society that may or may not shift imbalances, because what you're seeing is a group of people who are cheering on the loss of what they perceive to be an oppressor. And what we know when it comes to economy and it comes to a lot of things like access to healthcare etc, is that billionaires are a deep cause of a lot of those things ( note 3 comes in and it says "The power, privilege, safety, and existence of billionaires is not harmed by the mockery of a disempowered group.")

The inequality and inequity that people experience, especially marginalized folks, is due to the business practices, pretty directly, of people who are billionaires. (note 4 comes in and it says "Some modern philosophers would say mocking this historic global news event is moral because that is supporting an inherently immoral group's demise from their own choices. As an ethicist I am not trained in impose or challenge the definitions of morality, I am trained to look at designing principles that help us guide and decide societal consensus on morals.")

So this group of people is not cheering on the loss of five people, 5 husbands or sons, or hm, people who celebrate birthdays, what they're cheering on is what could to them symbolize a societal shift. I'm not saying that it's right, what I'm saying is that in this case, and in any other case where people are perceiving the loss of an oppressor, it's ethically neutral.

(notes 5 and 6 come in - the first says "If you've been cheering for Tr*mp to go to jail, making jokes about unvaccinated people getting sick from COVID, etc, you've participated in this behavior. These are all individuals with real lives too. But also, these people have been the source of great communal suffering." And the second says "The "us" and "them" stance that working class people feel toward billionaires is not created by them, they are forced to participate in that adversarial relationship. The wealthy class created it by dehumanizing their existence, extorting their labor, and constantly shifting necessary life supporting resources out of reach of everyone.")

It doesn't really have a good or bad stance and it's not effective or ineffective, they also don't have power in this scenario to change what's happening and so for them, it's empowering to see a group that has always had power be disempowered. It's in the same vein as like cheering on a bully getting beat up or seeing an abusive partner go to jail (note 7 comes in and it says "In an equitable world, the resources put into trying to save these wealthy people who made a dangerous (and ultimately deadly) choice would also be made available with the same urgency for the most vulnerable. But it's not, and this rightfully is enraging for a substantial portion of society.")

Um it's not about the individual as much as it's about the symbolism and just because you don't feel the same way (note 8 comes in and it says "A lot of social movements historically that have sought to challenge autocractic classes and governments have used this type of humor to force change. The group Otpor! is a great example.") , you have a different individualized moral stance, doesn't mean that these people are experiencing something that is wrong or doing something that is wrong, they're just doing something that quite honestly is very human. Humans celebrate the perceived fall of opressors all the time, hm, doesn't really have an ethical stance to it.

(note 9 comes in and says "manipulative and insidious leader can hijack this natural human reaction to seeing their oppressors suffer by redirecting blame to a scapegoated group, but that isn't what will naturally happen from this behavior.")

And when you tell people that they shouldn't be cheering on, you're insinuating that it's inethical and it's just neither and it doesn't lead to a slippery slope unless pushed by a manipulator, because it's not inherently inethical to dislike and celebrate the loss of someone that's been oppressing you.

End ID

[amtrak12]

Possible Ending for Pushing Daisies

Thesis Notes:

Apologies, but this will not include screencaps to demonstrate my theories. I have other things I want to devote my energy to today, but still needed to get these thoughts out.

I will be using the word "artifact" in the Warehouse 13 sense of the word, aka: an object of human construction that has been imbued with unexplainable, and thus treated as magical, abilities. These abilities typically include an inconvenient or even dangerous downside.

Literally no idea what Bryan Fuller, et all ever said about their intentions for the show if it hadn't been canceled or if they ever said anything post-cancellation. I am working entirely off the canon text here.

Introduction:

Obviously, Pushing Daisies ended before it could reveal what its long term goals for the story were. Did they want to solve Ned and Chuck's issues with touch? Did they want to explain where Ned's powers came from? Were they ever going to explicitly admit to what they implied about the people (and animals) Ned kept alive being immortal???

Absolutely no idea and we can never know for sure. However, they did leave clues and untied plot strings, primarily with the history of Dwight Dixon, Charles Charles, and Ned's father (who was never given a name) and the pocket watches Dwight desperately wanted to find.

Now given the slow roll of these plot points and the deliberate mystery surrounding them, I suspect whatever that trio got up to was the long term plot. And for it to be the long term plot of Pushing Daisies, then presumably it would address the premise of the show, aka Ned's powers to wake the dead.

Foundation Theory:

Dwight, Charles, and Ned's father came across some valuable artifact during their time in the UN Peace Corp, stole it, and divided it up into three equal pieces that they hid in the pocket watches. (Alternatively, they hid the artifact somewhere and divided the map to the hidden location up into three equal pieces.) This artifact is responsible for Ned's powers.

Evidence:

The picture of the three men in the Blue Berets shows them on camels in the desert. This doesn't have to mean Egypt, however Egyptian curses are a very common motif, and Pushing Daisies loved taking story cliches and putting an exaggerated fantasy spin on them. The camels and desert was absolutely chosen on purpose which means it's relevant which means it shows where the men were when they at least bought the pocket watches.

So we have pocket watches and some version of an Egyptian curse. We also have Ned's father leaving after Ned's mother and Charles Charles died, which is important, not only for Ned's backstory, but as insight into his father's motivations.

Detailed Theory:

I posit that the three men knew of the dangerous repercussions when they took this artifact. Maybe it came with a written warning, maybe there was a legend about it, etc. Did the men understand the details of this danger? No. Did they even believe the warning? Well, certainly not enough to stop them from stealing it.

I don't believe they stole this artifact for power. I don't think they believed it was magical in any way. There was not one minuscule hint at any of these men having or tying to obtain magical powers, and Dwight was genuinely shocked at Ned bringing Charles back to life. I think the men were after money. Dwight would certainly be after money most after spending twenty years in jail, so his actions support this theory. Sell one piece of the artifact? Make a nice chunk of change. Sell the entire artifact at once? Make a fortune.

Ned's Powers:

Two ways this can go. Option A: Stealing the artifact, triggered the "curse" to go into effect. Like how the replacement victim when Ned keeps a dead person alive longer than a minute is a random proximity thing, the curse was a random proximity thing and landed on Ned. Option B: Breaking the artifact into three pieces, separated its powers from the object and -- again through random proximity -- the powers landed on Ned. I personally like option B, but I'm a WH13 girlie and your mileage may vary.

Ned's Father:

I think Ned's father knew about his powers. Maybe not before Ned's mother and Chuck's father died (most likely not before), but certainly after. When it happened, he remembered the warning about the artifact, put that information together, felt guilty, and then shipped Ned off to boarding school to try and forget it ever happened (hence the second family).

But it did happen and his father could never really put that guilt behind him. So, he abandoned his second family to dig into the artifact and figure out the curse, while also keeping a distant eye on Ned.

End Game of the Show:

Taking all of this to be true, then the end game would be for Ned and Chuck to learn about what their fathers stole and learn what Ned's dad has dug up about the artifact and curse. Then comes the decision: Do they collect the pieces and restore the artifact to its rightful place? It seems like an easy decision, but it does bring up the following hiccups. Would returning the artifact take away Ned's powers? Does he want his powers to be gone when he's just started to accept them as a super power? It's one thing to choose not to use them and another to not have them at all. Would he be able to touch Chuck if he didn't have his powers anymore or is that something already set into motion and his second touch would still kill her no matter what? Or, worse yet, would Chuck die the instant they returned the artifact?

Adding to the conflict is Ned's father who has done all this research and still sees Ned's powers as a clear-cut upside. A gift, ultimately, and not a curse at all. He doesn't want to return the artifact and isn't willing to handle over his piece of it in the pocket watch. "Look at all the people you've helped! The victims you got justice for, the families you helped find closure. You were able to bring Chuck back to life! You're going to risk throwing that away?" The words just fuel Ned's doubts and guilt. Because there has been good from it. He has helped people, and what if Chuck did die again?

But it was built on something wrong. So he and Chuck ultimately decide (together, of course, as always) that they don't want to live with that and choose to return the artifact. Again, you have two options here: they could convince Ned's father it's the right thing to do and he hands over his piece of the artifact OR he continues to disagree with them and they have to steal his piece from him and go behind his back to return it. It depends on whether you want to give Ned's father a redemption arc or not. Personally, I do not. :P Leave redemption to shows like Lucifer and The Good Place. I am here for technicolor spite.

Happy Ending:

Returning the artifact takes away Ned's powers, but it does not undo anything he did with those powers. The people who died (the funeral director, Dwight) are still dead. The people who are alive again (Chuck, Digby, Charles), are still alive.

But no longer immortal. The immortality was an extension of Ned's powers. No powers, no immortality. Both Digby and Chuck will now age again.

And both can be touched by Ned without dying. :) Relief! Happy ending! But earned, I feel. Even when I was watching it brand new, I definitely wanted them to be able to touch again because it ached so much, but I also didn't want it to be for random reasons, like the consequences wore off after 'x' amount of time. The journey I listed above is indeed a journey, and thus doesn't feel random to me.

Closing Thoughts:

I like how this integrates the loose threads in the show. I like what it says about the damage and trauma parents can pass on to their children and how it doesn't have to be intentional to leave lasting scars. Depending on how you frame the artifact theft, you can even do commentary on colonization, land back, and reparations.

And no, I don't think Chuck's father will suddenly start decaying the moment they return the artifact. This show uses the cartoon logic of a wagon of hay being enough to avoid injury after falling multiple stories out of a bell tower. So, even though Charles was dead and buried for twenty years and presumably has no internal organs because they would've done an autopsy at the time of his mysterious death, he will continue to live and age like normal, just with a permanent corpse face. :P

[wowowwild]

Ok so I've played through all of the first game now so I'm just going to ramble on for a bit. I was previously familiar with all but the last case.

Tbh if you don't go in a wrightworth shipper you aren't very likely to come out as one. The first game has it's moments, but I'm hoping the following games are more concrete bc I wouldn't want wrightworth to be a thing at this juncture. Miles has too much personal development going on, he's not ready for that. Also, different than I was expecting: Miles seems more into Phoenix than vice versa and I thought it would be the other way around. Phoenix has that undying optimism for Miles (which may be hurting their case actually), but it's not convincing as romantic interest for me. Not that I would say it's impossible he's interested, it just hasn't developed much yet.

I like the overall theme/lens to view through of leaving, being left, and choosing to stay (my personal interpretation, and I am in no way writing a complete thesis paper here).

The first instance is in Mia's death. You could argue Phoenix's choosing to stay starts with Larry, but I think Mia's death is where it really takes off. Mia's death is a consequence of her choosing to stay (she chose her path and stuck to it), and the consequence of her death is leaving. Phoenix and Maya are the most notable of those left behind. Phoenix is the one with the power in this situation and he chooses to stay (with Maya). He consistently chooses to stay with Miles, his belief unwavering.

We learn that Miles left and is choosing at first to stay leaving. In the Powers case he seems to be beginning to be choosing to stay and makes the decision more thoroughly during his own trials. His decision to stay with Phoenix and his morals. At the end (we all know what happens next) he chooses to stay by leaving.

At the end of Miles' cases, Maya leaves, but her leaving is really more about staying. She is leaving now so she can stay later, more staying by leaving.

Ema and Lana have the benefit of doing the leaving staying arc over the course of a single case. Lana left her morals and subsequently her sister but Ema chose to stay and so Lana had a place to come back to. Ema assures her during the trial that no matter what they'll still be sisters and showing once again she is staying. Had Ema chose to leave, Lana would be in jail and their relationship would never recover. Had Lana chosen to stay leaving the result would be much the same.

Rip to Gummy in RFtA. Phoenix is constantly roasting him, the guy (temporarily) loses his job, he has the worst timing imaginable. Love my boy.

I really like Angel Starr and Jake Marshall. They're such compelling characters and their gimmicks are fun. I feel like no one talks about them but at some point in the future expect many reblogs featuring them (idk when anything will pop out of my queue, it's got close to 500 in it so I keep having to up how many it posts daily)

Phoenix really sets up the 'Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death' with his 'you can either let what happened kill the prosecutor in you or let it grow' paraphrasing obviously bc I cannot be bothered to find the exact words but I knew as soon as I saw it.

I need someone to get Larry some help. idk if anyone can help him, but someone ought to try.

Not actually related to my play through but I got a 'let the parrot take the stand' shirt and it's my new favorite article of clothing.

I don't have any other thoughts off the top of my head so that's it for now, but my other statements i started live blogging are under (#game posting) and I have decided I will continue to live blog as I go through JFA

[neednothavehappenedtobetrue]

my thesis is defended. assuming I don't go to Paperwork Jail, I graduate in May. I have Done The Thing (except for some forms).

I am still vibrating at speed in the way you do when the scary thing is over and you're a little activated about it.

but my whole committee loved it. Katie initially said she'd only have time to read the first 100 pages because she has to read thirteen of these, and she found time to read the whole book because she was enjoying it so much. I also got some useful feedback from her that I will implement before I start querying, but also I Cannot start another revision pass right now, even a partial one, so that's going to sit in the percolator until like mid-May

[puppy-phum]

a mystery tag game huh? thanks for tagging me deanna @leonpob ♥

Current time: 0.28am

Current activity: am listening to music and trying to calm down enough to prepare for bed. it's been a big day today and tomorrow we continue :'D

Currently thinking about: how we get to see jimmysea and marknamtan in school rangers tomorrow! plus i had plans to order some food and watch the lol concert dvd now that i finally have it ^^ am excited for the behind the scenes plus i wanna see how they merged the two days together.

Current favourite song: following in your footsteps deanna and choosing 5! in no particular order.

I. chasing that feeling - txt II. unsaid - 4ever falling ft. auram III. yes - the rose IV. tamagotchi - ieuan V. apollo 13 - hrishi

Currently reading: stephenie mayer's midnight sun :'D this is for uni bc i am apparently continuing my analysis of twilight in my master's thesis. it's actually quite interesting to see these events unfold from edward's perspective (which probably tells a lot more about how bella has been written rather than the series and its plot)

Currently watching: last twilight and my journey to you. i still cannot believe last twilight is real even if i've now watched the first ep twice. with my journey to you, i only have the last two eps left. should finish it soon! after that i have some shows on my list to check out, most of those ones that recently started airing.

Current favorite character: mork. after today it's 1000000% mork. obsessed with this man. he's so freaking hot. i am having a mental breakdown about it. like damn p'aof put so much effort into making jimmy look like this and somehow managed to make him ten times sexier, that's insane. just look at him:

what the actual fuck. i am going to put him back in jail bc this is criminal.

Current WIP: currently i have three fics i am actively working on/juggling but idk if any of them will be finished any time soon. the first one would be my puentalay fic which i've been working on for over a year now. i love it to bits but it hates me. another one is my waitalay soulmates fic that started well but then got stuck somewhere bc am just a horrible perfectionist when it comes to writing wai. it's fun tho bc wai is so messy (and i get to throw him together with pat, pran AND korn. he's not having fun tho, sorry buddy). and the last one would be my morkday reincarnation "quick fic" where the main idea was to just have morkday have random conversations about these dreams day is having about them as different ppl in different lives. those lives would include mekpangpond (in the world of 55:15), waitay (in the world of bad buddy), and puentalay. this was mainly inspired by jimmysea's new solo roles in ploy's yearbook and the trainee which seemed to slot well with their previous solo roles. let's see if that ever comes to an end tho. i have a clear vision but writing is hard.

thank you so much for reading if you so did!

tagging: @daymork @jimmysea @forcebook @stormyoceans @celestial-sapphicss @icouldhyperfixatehim @dimpledpran @taeminie @raypakorn @snimeat ♥