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felikatze · 6 months

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ISAT and Ludonarrative Harmony: Combat is a Storytelling Tool

Or: How Siffrin is stuck in the endgame grind, forever

Please Note: This is primarily aimed at an audience that already played In Stars and Time, because I am bad at explaining things, and it's good to already know what the fuck I'm talking about. I tend to only bring up game elements as I want to talk about them.

Spoilers for.... all of ISAT! Especially Act 5!

(image to show how i feel posting this and as an attention grabber over my wall of text)

To pull a definition of ludonarrative harmony out of a hat, game writer Lauryn Ash defines it as follows:

Ludonarrative harmony is when gameplay and story work together to create a meaningful and immersive experience. From a design implementation perspective, it is the synchronized interactions between in-game actions (mechanics) and in-world context (story).

It is, generally speaking, how well game mechanics work hand in hand with the story. I, personally, think ISAT is an absolute masterclass of it, so I want to take a look at how ISAT specifically uses its battle system to emphasize Siffrin's character arc and create organic story moments. I want you to keep this in mind when I talk here.

So, skills, right? If you've played any turn-based RPG, you know your Fire spells, your "BACKSLASH! AIRSLASH! BACKSLASH!" and the many ways to style those.

Well, what does casting "Fire" say about your character? Not all that much, does it? Perhaps you'll have typical divisions. The smart one is the mage, the big brawny one is your tank, the petite one's the healer. And that's the barebones of ISAT's main party, but it's much more than that.

Every character's style of combat tells you something about them. Odile, the Researcher, is the most well-travelled and knowledgable of the bunch. She's the one with the expertise to keep a cool head and analyze the enemy, yet also able to use all three of the Rock-Paper-Scissors craft types.

To reflect her analytical view of things, all her skill names are just descriptive, the closest to your most bog-standard RPG. "Slow IV" or "Paper III" serve well to describe their purpose. The high number of the skills gives the impression there were three other Slow skills beforehand - fitting, considering the party starts at level 45, about to head into the final dungeon. She's also the oldest, so she's the slowest of the bunch.

Isabea, the Fighter, has all his skills in exclamation points. "YOUR TURN!!!" "SO WEAK!!!" "SMASH!!!" they're straightforward, but excited. He's a purposefully cheerfull guy, so his skills revolve around cheering on his allies. He's absolutely pumped to be here, and you see that from his skill names alone.

Mirabelle, the Housemaiden, is an interesting case. She's by all means the true protagonist of this tale - She's the one "Chosen by the Change God," the only one who survived the King's first attack, the only one immune to his ability to freeze time, the only dual-craft type of the game - just a lot of things. And her skill names reflect that facade she puts on herself - she can do this, she can win! She has to believe it, or else she starts doubting. This is how you get "Jolly Round Rondo" and "Mega Sparkle Heal" or "Adorable Moving Cure." She's styled every bit a sailor scout shojo heroine, and her moveset replicates the naming conventions of "In the name of the moon, I'll punish you!"

Even Bonnie, the Kid, who can't be controlled in combat, has named craft skills. And they very much reflect that Bonnie is, well, a kid. "Wolf Speed Technique" or "Thousand Blows Technique" are very much the phrasings of a child who learned one complicated word and now wants to use it in everything to seem cooler than they are, which is none, because they're twelve.

Siffrin's skills are all puns.

You have an IMMEDIATE feel for personality here. Between "Knife to Meet You!" and "Too Cleaver by Half," you know Siffrin's the type to always crack a joke no matter the situation, slinging witticisms around to put Sonic the Hedgehog to shame. It's just such a clever way to establish character using a game mechanic as old as the entire history of RPGs.

This is only the baseline of the way the combat system feeds into the story, though.

The timeloop, of course, feeds into it. Siffrin is the only character who retains experience upon looping, whereas all other characters are reset to their base level and skills. And it sucks (affectionate).

You're extremely likely to battle more often the earlier in the game you are - after all, you need the experience (for now.) Every party member contributes, and Siffrin isn't all that strong on their own, since they focus on raw scissor type damage with the addition of one speed buff. (Of course it's a speed buff. They're a speedy fucker. Just look at him).

At first, the difference in level between Siffrin and the rest of the group is rather negligible. Just a level or two. Just a bit more speed and attack. And then Siffrin grows further and further apart. Siffrin keeps learning new skills. He gets a healing skill that doubles as an attack boost, taking away from both Mirabelle's and Isabeau's usefullness. He gets Craft skills of every type that even give you two jackpot points instead of one - thus obliterating Odile's niche. Siffrin turns into a one-person army capable of clearing most encounters all on their own.

Siffrin's combat progression is an exact mirror of story progression - as their experience inside the loops grows, they also grow further and further away from their party. The party seems... weaker, slower, clumsier. Always back at their starting point, just as all of their character arcs are reset each loop. Never advancing, always stagnant. And you have Siffrin as the comparison post right next to them.

I also want to point out here a change from Act 2 to Act 3 - Siffrin's battle portrait. He stops smiling.

Battles keep getting easier. This is true both for the reason that Siffrin keeps growing stronger even when all enemies stay the same, but also for the reason that you, the player, learn more about the battle system and the various encounters, until you've learned perfect boss clear strategies just from repetition. Have you ever watched a speedrunner play Pokemon? They've played this game so many times, they could do it blindfolded and sleeping. Your own knowledge and Siffrin's new strength work in tandem to trivialize the game's entire combat system as the game progresses.

(Is it still fun? Playing it over, and over, and over again? Is it?)

You and Siffrin are in sync, your experience making everything trivial.

As time goes on, Siffrin grows to care less and less about performing right for their party and more and more about going fast. A huge moment in his character is marked by the end of Act 3; because of story events I won't delve too deeply into, Siffrin has grown afraid of trying something new. And his options of escape are closing in. They need an answer, and they need it fast. He doesn't have the time or patience to dumb himself down, so you unlock one new skill.

It doesn't occur with level up, or with a quest, or anything at all. At the start of Act 4, it simply appears in Siffrin's Craft skills.

(Just attack.)

No pun. No joke. Just attack. Once you notice, the effect is immediate - here you have it, a clear sign of how jaded Siffrin has become, right at every encounter. And it's a damn good attack, too! The only available attack in the game that deals "massive" damage against all enemies. Because it doesn't add any jackpot points (at least, it's not supposed to), you set up a combo with everybody else, but Siffrin simply tears away at the enemy with wild abandon. Seperated from the rest of the party by the virtue of no longer needing to contribute to team attacks (most of the time. It's still useful if they do, though).

Once again, an aspect of the battle system enhances the degree of separation between Siffrin and the static characters of his play. You're incentivized to separate him, even.

Additionally, there are two more skills to learn. They're the only skills that replace previous skills. You only get them at extremely high levels, the latter of which I didn't even reach on both of my playthroughs.

The first, somewhere in the level 70 range, Rose Printed Glasses, a paper type craft skill, is replaced by Tear You Apart. It's still a pun about paper, but remarkedly more vicious.

The second is even more on the nose. At level 80, In A While, Rockodile!, a rock type craft skill, is replaced by the more powerful Rock Bottom.

I didn't get to level 80. If you do, you pretty much have to do it on purpose. You have to keep going much longer than necessary, as Siffrin is just done. And the last skill he learns is literally called Rock Bottom.

What do I even need to say, really.

Your party doesn't stay static forever, though.

By doing their hangout quests, side quests throughout the loops that result in Siffrin and the character having a heart to heart, all of them unlock what I'd call an "ultimate" skill. You know the type - the character achieved self-fulfillment, hit rank 10 on their confidant, maxed out their skill tree, and received a reward for their trouble.

These skills are massively useful. My favorite is Odile's - it makes one enemy weak to all Craft types for several turns, which basically allows you to invalidate the first and third boss, as well as just clown on the King, especially once Siffrin starts racking up damage.

But the thing is. In Act 3, when you first get them, yeah, they're useful. But... do you need them? After all, they're such a hassle to get. You need to do the whole character quest again, you can't loop forward in the House or you'll lose them. If you want to take these skills to the King, you need to commit. Go the full nine-yards and be nice to your friends and not die and not skip forward or skip back. Which is annoying, right?

Well, I sure did think so during Act 4. After all, a base level party can still defeat the King, just with a few more tricky pieces involved. Siffrin can oneshot almost all basic enemies by the time of Act 4. It's this exact evalutation that you, the player, go through everytime you return to Dormont. Do I want this skill, still? Would it not be faster to go on without it? I'm repeating myself, but that's the thing! That's what Siffrin is thinking, too!

I also want to take a quick moment to note, here - all skills gained from hangouts have art associated with them, which no other skills do. This feature, the nifty art, hammers home these as "special" skills, besides just how they're unlocked.

Siffrin also has one skill with associated art.

Yeah, you guessed it, it's (Just attack.)

At first, helping the characters is tied to a hefty in-game reward, but that reward loses its value, and in return devalues helping Siffrin's friends every loop. It's too tedious for a skill that'll make a boss go by one turn faster. You, the player, grow jaded with the battle system. Grinding experience isn't worth it, everybody's highest levels are already recorded. Fighting bosses isn't worth it, it's much faster to loop forward.

Isn't this what all endgame in video games looks like? You already beat the final boss, and now... what challenge is left? Is there a point to keep playing? Most games will have some post-game content. A superboss to test your skills against, but ISAT doesn't have any of that. You're forever left chasing to the post-game. That's the whole point - to escape the game.

As most games get more difficult as time passes, ISAT only gets easier. The game becomes disinterested in expanding its own mechanics just as I ran out of new things to fight after 100%-ing Kingdom Hearts 3. Every encounter becomes a simple game of "press button to win."

The final boss just takes that one up a notch.

Spoilers for Act 5 ahead boys!

In Act 5, Siffrin utterly loses it. His last possible hope for escape failed him, told him there's nothing she can do, and Siffrin is trapped for eternity. So of course, they go insane and run up the entire House without their party.

This just proves what you already knew - you dont need the party to proceed. Siffrin alone is strong enough. And here, Siffrin has entirely shed the facade of the jokester they used to be. Every single skill now follows the (Just attack.) naming conventions. Your skills are: (Paper.) (Rock.) (Scissors.) (Breathe.)

To the point. Not a moment wasted, because Siffrin can't take a moment longer of any of this. Additionally, his level is set to 99 and his equipment becomes fixed. You can't even pick up items anymore! Not that you needed them at this point anyway, right? Honestly, I never used any items besides the Salty Broth since Act 2, so I stopped picking items up a long time ago. Now you just literally can't.

Something I've not talked about until now - one of the main equipment types in this game are Memories, gained for completing subquests or specific interactions and events. They all by and large have little effects - make Odile's tonics heal more, or have Mirabelle cast a shield at the start of combat. For the hangout events, you also gain an associated memory that boosts the characters' stats by 30. It lets them keep up with Siffrin again! A fresh wind! Finally, your party members feel on par with you again!

...For a time. And just like that, they're irrelevant again, just as helping them gave Siffrin a brief moment of hope that the power of friendship could fix everything.

In Act 5, your memory is set to "Memory of Emptiness." It allows you to loop back in the middle of combat. You literally can't die anymore. Not that Siffrin could've died by this point in the first place, unless you forgot about the King's instant-kill attack. This one memory takes away the false pretense that combat ever had any stakes. Siffrin's level being set to 99 means even the scant exp you get is completely wasted on them. All stakes and benefits from combat have been removed. It has become utterly pointless.

Frustrating, right? It's an artistic frustration, though. It traps you right here in Siffrin's shoes, because he hates that all these blinding Sadnesses are still walking around just as much. It all inspires just a tiny fraction of that deep rolling anger Siffrin experiences here in the player.

And listen, it was cathartic, that one time Siffrin snapped and stabbed the tutorial Sadness, wasn't it? Because who enjoys sitting through the tutorial that often? Siffrin doesn't. I don't, either.

So, since combat is an useless obstacle now meant to inspire frustration, what do you do for a boss? You can't well make it a gameplay challenge now, no. The bosses of Act 5 are an emotional challenge: a painful wait.

First, Siffrin fights the King, alone. This is already nervewracking because of one factor - in every other run, you need Mirabelle's shield skill, or else you're scripted to die. You're actually forced to fight the King multiple times in Act 3, and have to do it at least once in Act 4, though you'll likely do it more. Point is: you know how this fight works.

You know Siffrin's fight is doomed from the outset, but all you can do is keep slinging attacks. Siffrin is enough of a powerhouse to take the King's HP down, what with the healing and buff skills they have now, not to even mention you can just go all in on damage and then loop back.

(And no matter which way you play it, whether you just loop or use strategically, it reflects on Siffrin, too. Has he grown callous enough not even death will stop their mission? Or does he still avoid pain, as much as he can?)

This fight still allows you the artifice of even that much choice, not that it matters. The other shoe drops eventually - Siffrin becomes slower, and slower. Unsettling, considering this game works on an Action Gauge system. You barely get turns anymore. The screen gets darker, and darker. Until Siffrin is frozen in time, just as you knew he had to be, because you know how this encounter works, know it can't be cleared without Mirabelle.

And, then, a void.

Siffrin awakens to nothingness. The only way to tell you've hit a wall is if Siffrin has no walking animation to match your button inputs. You walk, and walk, until you're approached by.... you. The next enemy encounter of the game, and Siffrin's absolute lowest point: Mal Du Pays.

Or, "Homesickness," in english. If you know the game, you know why it's named this, but that's not the point at the moment.

Thing is, where you could damage the King and are damaged in turn, giving you at least a proper combat experience, even if its doomed to fail, Mal Du Pays has no such thing.

You can attack. You can defend. But it is immune to all attacks. And in return, it does nothing. It's common, at least, for undefeatable enemies to be a "survive" challenge, but nope. The entire fight is "press button and wait." Except, remember the previous fight against the King? The entire time, you were waiting for the big instant death attack to drop. That feeling, at least for me, carried forward. I was incredibly on edge just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And, as is a pattern, Siffrin is, too. As Siffrin's attacks fail to connect, they start talking to Mal Du Pays.

But he gets no response, as you get no attacks to strategize around. The wait for anything to happen is utterly agonizing. You and Siffrin are both waiting for something to happen. This isn't a fight. It just pretends to be. It's an utter rugpull, because Siffrin was so undefeatable for most of Act 4 and all of Act 5 so far. It's kind of terrifying!

and it does. It finally does something. Ma Du Pays speaks, in the voice of Siffrin's friends, listing out their deepest fears. I think it's honestly fantastic. You're forced to just sit here and listen to Siffrin's deepest doubts, things you know the characters could not say because it references the timeloops they're all utterly unaware of. This is all Siffrin, talking to himself. And all you, all Siffrin, can do, is keep wailing away on the enemy to no effect whatsoever.

So of course this ends with Siffrin giving up. What else can you do?

And then Siffrin's friends show up and unfreeze them and it's all very cool yay. The pure narrative scenes aren't really the main focus but I want to point out here:

A) Mirabelle is in the first party slot here, referencing how she's the de facto protagonist, and Bonnie fills in the fourth slot left empty, which shows all characters uniting to save Siffrin

B) this is the only instance of the other party members having act specific battle icons: they're all smiling brightly, further pushed by the upbeat music

C) the reflecting shield Mirabelle uses to freeze the King uses a variation of her hangout skill cut in, marking it as her true "final" skill and giving the whole fight a more climatic feeling.

It's also a short gameplay sequence with Siffrin utterly uninvolved in the battle. You can't even see them onscreen. But... it feels warm, doesn't it? Everybody coming together. Siffrin doesn't have to fight anymore.

At last, the King is defeated. Siffrin and co. make for the Head Housemaiden, to have her look at Siffrin's sudden illness. Siffrin is utterly exhausted, famished, running a fever. And this isn't unexpected - after all, their skills in Act 5 had no cooldown. For context, instead of featuring any sort of MP system, all skills work on a cooldown basis, where a character can't use it for a certain number of turns. The lowest cooldown is actually Siffrin's Knife to Meet You, which has a cooldown of 1. In universe, this is reasoned as the characters needing a break from spamming craft in order to not exhaust themselves.

Siffrin's skills in Act 5 having no cooldown/being infinitely spammable isn't a sign of their strength - it's a sign that he refuses to let himself rest in order to rush through as fast as possible.

Moving on, Siffrin panics when seeing the Head Housemaiden, because seeing her means one thing: the end. Prior to this in the game, every single time you beat the King, the loop ends when you talk to the Head Housemaiden.

Reality breaks down, the whole shebang. It's here that Siffrin realizes - they don't want the loops to end, because the end of their journey means their family will leave, and he'll be alone again. The happiest time of his life will be over.

Siffrin goes totally ballistic, to say the least.

As it turns out (and was heavily foreshadowed narratively), Siffrin has been using Wish Craft to subconciously cause the timeloop because of their abandonment issues. It's rather predictable if you paid attention to literally anything, but it's extremely notable how heavily Siffrin is paralleled to the King, the antagonist they swore to kill by themself at the start of Act 5. The King wants to freeze Vaugarde in time because it is, in his mind, "perfect," for accepting him after he lost his home - a backstory he shares with Siffrin.

Siffrin has become the exact antagonist he swore to kill, and it's shown by how the next fight utterly flips everything on its head.

Siffrin is the final boss.

In a towering form made of stars, Siffrin looks down at their friends. His face is terrified, because of his internal conflict; he can't hurt his friends, but he can't let them go, either. The combat prompt is simply changed to "END IT!"

This fight is similar to the previous, in that you just need to wait a certain number of turns until its over. However, this time, it's not dreadful suspense. It's... confusion, and hesitance.

You have two options for combat: Attack your friends, or attack yourself.

And... you don't really want to do either, I think. I certainly don't. But what else can you do? It's Siffrin's desires clashing in full force. Attack your friends, and force them to stay? Or attack yourself, and let them go safely without you?

Worth noting, here - when you attack Siffrin's friends, you can't harm them. Isabeau will shield all attacks. And when you attack yourself, Mirabelle will heal you back to full. And the friends don't... do anything, either. How could they? Occasionally, Mirabelle heals you and Isabeau shouts words of motivation, but the main thing is...

(Your friends don't know what to do.)

None of them want to harm Siffrin. Both sides simply stare at each other, resolute in their conviction but unwilling to end it with violence. It's of note that this loop, the last one, is the only loop where the King isn't killed. Just frozen. And now here is Siffrin, clamoring for the same eternity the King was. Of course everything ends in a tearfilled conversation as Siffrin sees their friends won't leave him, even after the journey ends, but I still have to appreciate this moment.

Siffrin is directly put in the position with their friends as his enemies, forced to physically reckon that keeping them in this loop is an act of violence, against both their friends, and against himself.

It's a happy ending. But... what does it mean?

Of course, ISAT is obviously about the fear of change. Siffrin is afraid of the journey ending, and of being alone. However, ISAT is also a game about games. Siffrin is playing the same game, over and over, because it's comforting. It's familiar. It's nice, to know exactly what happens next. These characters might just be predictable lines of dialogue, but... they feel like friends. Have you ever played a game, loved it, put countless hours into it, but you never finished it? Because you just couldn't bear to see it end? For the characters to leave your life, for there to be a void in your heart where the game used to be?

After all, maybe it became part of your routine! You play the game every day, slowly chipping away at it for weeks at a time. For me, I beat ISAT in four days. It utterly consumed me during this time. I had 36 hours of playtime by the end. Yeah, in that week, I did not do much more than play ISAT.

And once i beat it, i beat it, again. I restarted the game to see the few scenes I missed, most specifically the secret boss I won't talk about here. I... couldn't let go of the game yet. I wanted to see every scrap I could. I still do. I'm writing this, in part because I still do. It's scary to let go.

Ever heard the joke term of "Postgame Depression?" It's when you just beat a game, and you're suddenly sad. Maybe because the ending affected you emotionally and you need to process the feelings it invoked, or you search for something that can now fill your time with it gone.

The game ends, for real this time, the last time you talk to the Head Housemaiden. But Siffrin gets... scared. What if everything loops back again? And so, his family offers to hold his hand. They face the end, together.

For all loops, including the ending, you never see what happens after. After they leave the loop for good. Because the loop is the game itself. It's asking you to trust that life goes on for these characters, and it holds your hand as it asks you to let go. There's a reason for Siffrin's theater metaphors. He is the actor, and the director, asking everyone to do it over one more time. He's a character within the game, and its player.

There's a reason I talked about endgame content. This, the way it all repeats, there's nothing new, difficulty and stakes bleed away as you snap the game over your knee - it's my copy of White 2 with two hundred hours in it. It's me playing Fire Emblem Awakening in under 3 hours while skipping every cutscene. Are you playing for the sake of play, for the sake of indulging in your memories, because you're afraid of the hole it'll leave when you stop?

Of note: the narrative never condemns Siffrin for unwittingly causing their own suffering. He's a victim of circumstance. It's seen as endearing, even, that Siffrin loves their friends to the point of rather seeing the world destroyed than them gone. But Siffrin is also told: we'll stay with you for now, but we'll part ways eventually. And one day, you'll have to be okay with it.

Stop draining the things you love of every ounce of enjoyment just because you're afraid of what happens next. I'm not saying to never play your favorite games again. Playing ISAT a second time, I still had a lot of fun! I saw so many new things I didn't before, and I enjoyed myself immensely, reading the same dialogue over and over. But... it makes me look at other games I love and still play, and makes me ask... is this still fun? Do I still need to play this game to enjoy it? Even writing this is an afterimage of my enjoyment, but it's a new way to interact with the game, to analyze it through this lens. Fuck, man, I write fanfiction. Look at me.

All of this, fanart, fanfic, analysis, is a way to prolong that enjoyment without making yourself suffer for it. Without just going through the motions of enjoyment without actually experiencing any. But one day, the thing you love won't be fun to talk and write and draw about. And it's okay. You'll have new things to love. I promise.

In the end.... I'm certain I'll replay ISAT one day. Between great writing, art, puzzles and unresolved mysteries, it's my shoe-in for game of the year.

But I won't replay it for quite some time. I've had enough, for now, so I let my love take other forms.

Siffrin is never condemned, because love is no evil. Be it love for another person, or for a game. And please, if you're overempathetic - it's still a game, at the end of the day. The great thing about games is that you can always boot them up again, no matter how long its been.

A circle within a circle indeed.

To summarize:

The repetitiveness of ISAT's combat, lack of new enemies, and Siffrin's ever increasing strength eventually allows you to snap the combat over your knee, rendering it irrelevant and boring. Though this may seem counterproductive at first, it perfectly mirrors how Siffrin has also grown bored with these repeated encounters and views them only as an obstacle to get past. The reflection of Siffrin's own tiredness with the player's annoyance increases the compassion the player has for Siffrin as a character.

Additionally, the endgame state of the combat system serves as commentary on the state of a favorite game played too often, much like how Siffrin has unwittingly trapped themself in the loop. Despite the game having no more challenge or content left to over, a player might return to their favorite game anyway, solely to try and recreate the early experience of actually having fun with it. This ties into ISAT's metanarrative about the fear of change and refusal to let go of comfort even when the object (here, your favorite video game) offering that comfort has become utterly bereft of any substance to actually engage with. Playing for the sake of playing, with no actual investment to keep going besides your own memories.

Later on, stripping away even the pretense of strategy for a "press button and wait" format of final bosses highlights the lack of options at Siffrin's disposal and truly forces the player into their shoes. Truly, the only way to win is to stop playing.

#feli speaks #in stars and time #isat #isat spoilers #lays down on floor. it's done. it's done #i actually narrowed down in scope to just focus on the combat by the way. and this is like. several thousand words

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fixyourwritinghabits · 1 month

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No Such Thing As Filler

Okay, so yes, this is another post based on something I saw that irritated me, but it seems like this idea keeps coming up, so I need y'all to internalize this. There is no such thing as filler in good writing. None. Do not approach your work thinking you have to fill space in a story, I will beat you with this wiffle bat. Don't ask me where I got the wiffle bat. Don't even worry about it.

The idea of filler comes from a very particular place - when an anime or TV show has to fit in a certain number of episodes, but doesn't have enough content (hasn't caught up with the manga, the source material isn't long enough, etc) to cover those episodes. An episode has to be written, but the characters can't really progress, and so are given something else to do. Many a trope has come from these episodes, and they're sometimes necessary. Filler in this context is something that makes sense.

The dark side of filler is the idea that you need some space between Big Event 1 and Big Event 2 in your story, therefore you need throw anything in there to take up space and make your word count. This is a mistake I've made and I've seen plenty of other writers do it too, but it's a huge waste of your time. You do need something between those big action scenes, but you should always be writing to accomplish something.

Instead of thinking of that writing as filler, try to approach it with three things in mind:

Move Forward With Character Development and Backstory - Your characters barely survived a huge gunfight, and they won't encounter the big bad again for another few chapters. How do your characters decompress from that gunfight, and what does that say about them? Did a cocky character go in guns blazing, only to be deeply shaken by how a real fight works? Did that fight spark a moment of deep trauma for the main character that they have to reflect on afterwards?

Filling this space with meaningless scenes is a huge waste of opportunity. Think about how to dive deeper into your characters.

Move Forward With Plot and Subplot Development - The bad guy beat the heroes to the stolen gem, but they left behind a clue to why they want it. However that clue could reveal some painful truths about the protagonist's beloved great aunt... Carmen Sandiego???

A major goal following a big action scene is having the characters figure out what to do with what they've learned and what to do next. It's where romance subplots or secret relative subplots make progress, when truths are revealed and next steps are taken. You can absolutely do this in any setting - a flirty conversation while at the battling cages, a tense moment of feelings while hunting down a wayward chicken - but your main goal is making progress for both the characters and plot.

Move Forward With Worldbuilding - Worldbuilding has it challenges, believe me. You don't want to write a chapter on how an airship works only to have to cut it later. But you should still try to flesh out your world, and you should do so with the perspective of how to use that worldbuilding to your benefit. Maybe a critical scene hinges on the main characters knowing how that airship works, or that lake your main character often stares at is the setting of the big Act 3 Boat Battle. The weather can play into both perspective and emotions. Knowing what the main character's house and car looks like can reflect a lot on their personal character or backstory.

When you're struggling with a scene or a chapter, rather than writing filler, take a few steps back and think. What can you establish with your worldbuilding? What can you reveal about your characters through their dialogue and actions? What subplot could you explore or add in these between moments?

Filler from a fandom perspective - Now let me make this clear - if you're writing a fanfic just to have a cute moment between the characters you like, or you really want to force everyone to do that weird Twilight baseball scene, that's fine. You don't need a grand goal to achieve for every story, there's no need to justify your fanwork in any way other than you wanted to do it.

But I'd also argue fanwork doesn't fall under the filler label either - something you create, be it a character snapshot or a 'what if the gang meets Slenderman' parody, isn't taking up meaningless space. It's something fun you did that you and others enjoy, and there's nothing wasteful or pointless about that.

#writing advice #plotting #filler #writblr #the wiffle bat is a metaphor #for uuuuh something that sounds cool and interesting #let's go with that

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samwinchesterism · 3 months

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in re: “cas knows dean better than sam”

“cas sees dean as a whole person and sam just sees dean’s façade as his big brother slash parent” but like how and where. outside of your fanfiction. season and episode. scene and line. if it’s so obvious and apparent you should have at least 3-5 concrete examples right? “sam doesn’t know dean carried him out of the burning house” yeah but did cas? outside of a footnote in the angelic manila folder they gave him between seasons 3 and 4 so he could better manipulate him and sam into doing heaven’s bidding? like if you’re going to say “cas knows dean better than sam” than you need to show how cas succeeds where you perceive sam to be failing at the very least. but even your perceptions of how sam doesn’t measure up are so warped, blinkered, and moronic that it wouldn’t even be worth much if you could provide the textual evidence, but at least you’d have a semblance of a point. like say anything without going “as an eldest daughter…” “well my relationship with my sibling isn’t…” please say anything without fucking projecting your own self-pitying crybaby bullshit onto your little woobie dean and using the actual canon text of the show. I’m literally begging you.

like the thing of it all is and always has been that you’re so hell-bent on twisting the sam and dean relationship to fit into this narrow and almost entirely inaccurate mold which is the basis upon which you build the entire Destiel Mythos that you literally lose all sense of media literacy. you don’t even miss the forest for the trees, you miss the trees for like, the pretend invisible things you’re seeing in between the trees, the forest is a whole long way away from your current level of perception. because the Destiel Mythos is based entirely on the fact that dean is Not Seen and Not Appreciated and Not Loved and Cannot Be Himself until cas comes along, and that Family (read: sam) Is Only A Burden on Him That He Must Be Freed From In Order to Flourish, so you keep trying to warp the sam relationship into something that is only one dimension of it – and keep ignoring the ways in which dean is seen, loved and understood within it, because you need to keep lying to yourselves that there is a narrative need to emancipate dean from something that he has never wanted emancipation from because it is ultimately a net good for dean in the particular circumstances of their lives. it’s also profoundly unhealthy, codependent, evil and toxic etc. (a lot more dean’s fault than sam’s but I will nawt be getting into all that right now) but that doesn’t change the fact that sam and dean both know and understand and feel deeply that they are each other’s person – that they know the best and love the most in the world. but that – which IS true canon fact – is incompatible with the Destiel Mythos so it must be ignored and all good sense must be thrown out the window in order to do it.

anyway i digress there are two main categories of Bad Thinking that i will be addressing below

childhood/ “parent/child” / blah blah blah

every single thing people are saying in favour of the deeply stupid thesis in the title of this post is proof positive of the very silly form of ‘analysis’ I just described. a few things:

“wah sam didn’t know that dean carried him out of the burning house :( this means that dean withholds things from sam to protect him because he is a PARENT and sam can only know things about him in the context of him being a PARENT to him” – what the fuck are you on about genuinely. first of all reducing the sam/dean relationship exclusively to parent/child is in itself foolishness for so many reasons that I don’t have time for right now. but also, it’s clear that this is just something that happened when sam was a baby that just never came up. in the scene (1.09) where this is brought up, dean is mildly surprised that he or john never mentioned that detail and then states that sam knows the rest of the story (i.e. the actual traumatic stuff) just as well as dean does – which is true, demonstrably whenever they talk about it.

obviously there are some things that happened to dean in their childhood that sam doesn’t know about (or didn’t know about, until told in whatever episode they come up in). equally, there are things dean doesn’t know about sam’s childhood, e.g. the fact that he was so lonely he needed a zanna (11.08). or how dean didn’t remember that sam was friends with barry cook until he mentions it when they go back to their old school (4.13). or about the nature of sam’s relationship with amy pond (7.03). these don’t mean that ‘sam withheld these things to protect dean out of parental love’ lol, it’s just that there are details and events in each of their lives that the other happens to not have been told about.

similarly “sam didn’t even know dean wanted to be a firefighter L” girl did dean know sam wanted to be a lawyer? in 1.01 he’s pretty surprised that sam has a law school interview. the point here isn’t “neither sam nor dean know each other well,” these are minutiae that aren’t relevant to how well you know someone as a whole, and very poorly demonstrate the bad and inaccurate point that dean withholds things from sam the way a parent does a child (on a constant or regular basis). obviously the way they were raised, sam was deemed too young to know about certain things until he got older and dean had to keep that secret, but as shown in 3.08 flashbacks, most if not all of this is eventually revealed throughout their childhood when sam is still fairly young.

or possibly the dumbest one is that “wah sam doesn’t even know that dean reads books L” whenever that was he was also obviously joking because in more serious moments (e.g. 8.14) he admits that dean is smart/a better researcher than he is, literally remembers dean reading to him as a kid (8.21) so like. clam down

one of the extra annoying variants of this type of ‘proof’ covers things that are very clearly novel pieces of information about dean that dean, sam, and the audience are learning about dean in real time. like if you’re actually watching the show to comprehend it as it was intended to be comprehended, instead of funnelling everything through the Destiel Machine until it’s unrecognizable slop that fits neatly into your pre-ordained molds that Make Destiel Necessary In the Narrative (when it actually isn’t, at all) it’s abundantly clear. the top two worst offenders:

“sam didn’t even know that dean is good with kids :( he doesn’t even realize that dean raised him :(” first of all you people need to understand that parentification does not literally create a parent-child dynamic between siblings but I digress – this doesn’t make any sense bro. in 1.03 dean admits he doesn’t know any kids as an adult. dean being good with his own kid brother when they were both kids is to any reasonable person not necessarily linked with him being good with other random kids when he’s an adult. in 1.03 it’s clear that dean himself is a bit surprised that he’s able to connect w/ lucas so well because he’s clearly not dealt with a lot of kids since sam grew up. the whole point of this is that dean, sam, and the audience are all sort of seeing a new side of dean. who again is just 26. after this very early episode, there’s no question from sam that dean is able to connect w kids. sam being a bit surprised by this also has absolutely zero connection with him not understanding or realizing that dean looked out for him when they were both kids – sam is standing there at 22 years of age talking about adult dean and children – of fucking course he doesn’t mean himself are you stupid.

from the very first season, sam is very clearly aware of everything dean ~did for him~ when they were kids, see e.g. 1.21: “Dean...ah...I wanna thank you. […] For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you. And I don't know, I just wanted to let you know, just in case.”

and 1.06: DEAN: Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way. (SAM laughs.) SAM: Yeah, I know you are.

and then possibly even more stupidly, the one where it’s like “wah sam doesn’t even know dean can cook :( he doesn’t even know that DEAN was the one making him food as a babe in arms :(” – when sam is surprised that dean made something fairly gourmet and from scratch literally the first time they have ever had a permanent living space with a functional kitchen. in this VERY scene (8.14), dean himself points out that they haven’t had a kitchen before and when sam remarks on the irregularity of him doing serious cooking, he says “I’m nesting”, clearly showing that this is a novel development because they now have a kitchen, and that it’s irregular relative to past behaviour – both of them acknowledge this. because real proper in-depth cooking and making box mac and cheese for sam until he was like 11 and old enough to be left alone are two different things, which sam understands because he’s smart, unlike whoever chooses to make this point. dean never showed significant signs of liking to cook before this, which is what the exchange is about, but he did have to prepare food for them both when sam was too young – of course sam knows he had to, there are childhood memories referred to (e.g. 14.11) where sam is mentioned to literally help dean do the cooking as kids lol (and yes, genius, sam says ‘I didn’t know you knew what a kitchen was’ or something to that effect, but if you think he’s being 100% literal there I have an oceanfront property in Kansas to sell you)

again, obviously there are pieces that sam doesn’t know about dean, e.g. when he’s talking about his response to mary dying in 1.03. but again, Sam is 22, dean is 26, the last time they were in regular contact was when sam was 18-20, these are things that happen when people grow up, they’re able to reflect and share on childhood experiences if they’re close with their siblings as adults. it’s clearly not something that 26 y/o dean wanted to hide from 22 y/o sam. yes sam didn’t know everything about how dean felt when they were young, but that’s equally true in the other direction, and it’s such an irrelevant point in this discussion when, crucially, sam does learn these things about dean mostly fairly early on in the series (i.e. when they’re really not that deep into adulthood yet). cas was also not magically blessed w/ knowledge about dean, he also had to learn whatever it is that he knows, but somehow sam has to know everything about dean from age 7 or it doesn’t count when it’s sam lol.

“sam doesn’t know the One True Dean / doesn’t see through his facades”

the next branch of defending this flawed thesis is invariably that sam has little idea of the fronts and facades that dean puts up and is content to just believe them, whereas cas digs deep and sees the One True Dean that stupid sam always misses. there is nothing in the text that demonstrates this is true. multiple times, we see sam being very knowing of the fact that dean puts up fronts and facades. sam is also knowledgeable of the way dean perceives himself, and – demonstrated in multiple episodes before such sam lines were very poorly recycled and regurgitated into cas’s dialogue in 15.18, but keep acting like that was the first time anyone ever showed that they knew the One True Dean.

Obviously there are times where sam teases dean when he’s being more touchy-feely than usual, but 9.99 times out of 10 (as a conservative estimate in case there's something i'm forgetting otherwise i would say every time) that’s very clearly coming from a place of knowing the real dean vs. the façade he puts up because that’s the whole joke. and it’s allowed to be a joke because they’re siblings and that’s what siblings do lol. esp since sam and dean have touchy feely moments at the end of like every episode.

examples of all of the above off the top of my head (there are more than these, but these are the ones I can think of):

2.02 (about John’s death)

Sam: “I mean this ‘strong silent’ thing of yours, it's crap. […] I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man.”

Dean: “You know what, back off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to.”

Sam: “No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this. But you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay.”

2.03 (Sam to Dean, also about John’s death): “You know, you slap on this big fake smile but I can see right through it. Because I know how you feel, Dean. Dad's dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it, but you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to. It's an insult to his memory.”

Note that Dean essentially admits that Sam is right in these two instances in 2.04 bc I know yall have stupid shit to say about john too that has nothing to do with how anyone actually felt about him in canon

3.07 (about Dean’s demon deal – also proven true in later episodes)

SAM: Dude, drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid.

DEAN: I'm not!

SAM: You're lying. And you may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you.

DEAN: You got no idea what you're talking about.

SAM: Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out, and you're still going to Hell, and you're freaked.

DEAN: And how do you know that?

SAM: Because I know you! […] Yeah, I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And, I mean, I can't blame you. It's just […] I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again. 'Cause... (can't find words; tears in his eyes) just 'cause.

5.18 [Sam figures out what Dean is doing re: his plan to let Michael possess him, tracks him down, and eventually is the catalyst for Dean ‘making the right call’, which he predicts] – e.g.:

SAM: No, you won’t. When push shoves, you’ll make the right call

DEAN: You know, if tables were turned…I’d let you rot in here. Hell, I have let you rot in here.

SAM: Yeah, well…I guess I’m not that smart.

DEAN: I—I don’t get it. Sam, why are you doing this?

SAM: Because… you’re still my big brother.

8.14 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18 + sam intrinsically understanding the trials are a death wish for dean): “I'm closing the gates. It's a suicide mission for you. I want to slam hell shut, too, okay? But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you even got your own room now. You were right, okay? I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't – I am. But it's there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it. […] I AM smart, and so are you. You're not a grunt, Dean. You're a genius – when it comes to lore, to – you're the best damn hunter I have ever seen – better than me, better than dad. I believe in you, Dean. So, please – please believe in me, too.”

10.22 (understanding how much dean has ~done for him~)

SAM: I'm saving my brother.

CASTIEL: You told Dean—

SAM: —I know what I told Dean. Cas, look. I've been the one out there, messed up and scared. And alone. And Dean—

CASTIEL: He did whatever he could to save you.

SAM: Yes. I mean, it's become his thing. I owe him this. I owe him everything.

10.23 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18, x2 – from Sam to Dean): “You were also willing to summon death to make sure you could never do any more harm. You summoned me because you knew I would do anything to protect you. That's not evil, Dean. That's not an evil man. That is a good man crying to be heard, searching for... some other way. […] You will never, ever hear me say that you -- the real you -- is anything but good.”

11.13 (Sam understanding exactly how Dean feels about Amara being his ‘deepest desire’, and confirming that it doesn’t make him a bad person)

Dean: Why? Because if she is that means that I’m…

Sam: Means you’re what? Complicit? Weak? Evil?

Dean: For starters, yeah.

Sam: Dean. Do you honestly think you ever had a choice in the matter? She’s the sister of God, and for some reason she picked you and that sucks, but if you think I’m gonna blame you or judge you…I’m not.

Dean: You know that I want her ass dead.

Sam: Yes. Of course. And I know you’ve also probably beaten yourself up a hundred times over it, but where has that gotten us? (Long silence) Just how bad is it?

13.02 (Sam perfectly explaining Dean’s psyche to Jack)

JACK: Is that why Dean hates me?

SAM: Dean doesn’t hate you. It… Look, sometimes the wires in Dean’s head get crossed and—and he gets frustrated, and then he mixes frustration with anger, and—and fear.

JACK: Why would he be afraid?

SAM: Because Dean feels like it’s his job to protect everyone. And right now, we need to protect you. But we may also need to protect people from you.

14.03 [Sam assesses Dean’s psychological/emotional response to the Michael possession; end of episode, Dean confirms that Sam’s assessment was fully accurate]

14.10 [Sam is the only one able to snap Dean out of his weird Michael mind loop by using their code word]

14.11 [Sam figuring out that something is troubling Dean just based on the fact that Dean hugs him]

15.17 (self explanatory at this point)

DEAN: Chuck has to die. He has to! Otherwise he'll keep us tap dancing forever, and I can't live like that, man! I can't live like that! I won't!

SAM: I know you feel like that right now, okay. I know you do. But you gotta trust me. My entire life, you've protected me— from Dad, from Lucifer, from everything. I didn't always like it, you know, but... it's the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on. It's the only thing I've ever known that was true. So please... put the gun away. Just put it away, and we'll figure it out, Dean, we'll find another way, you and me. We always do.

like maybe there are some cas moments w dean along these lines too. i don't know, i don't remember what the guy says or does anymore it's been too many years and he is not memorable. but the point is where and in what capacity and based on what metric other than the amount of bad fanfic you've read does cas exceed sam in these respects.

so basically just. genuinely, what are you people literally ever talking about. go watch the show instead of saying stupid wrong stuff about sam on the hellsites all day. or watch another show (please for the love of god watch any other show this one is absolutely lost on you and it’s such a stupid one too i'm embarrassed for you)

#sorry i wasnt gonna be able to sleep otherwise my blood pressure got too high #sam winchester meta #sam winchester #anti destiel #sam and dean #whatever else my tags are #haven't done this in a minute #i'm sorry for being a cunty sam stan (tm) in this but have you considered we'd be nicer if you ppl were less dumb #this is not proofread it's not real meta

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magnus-rhymes-with-swagness · 10 months

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OKAY who wants to hear about why i think nimona challenges amatonormativity? you do! 🫵

one of the main ways this is accomplished is through ballister and ambrosius’s relationship. it’s arguable that it doesn’t necessarily fit the traditional model of romance - not only are they a queer interracial couple, and not only is their relationship ambiguous in the book, but there are certain instances, especially in the movie, that subvert traditional ideas of romance and friendship.

one instance that really stands out to me is when the director asks ambrosius what’s on his mind and he goes on his imagined rant about how arm-chopping isn’t a love language - you know the one. when he mentions ballister, he refers to him as “the man i love, my best friend.” and not just one or the other, but both! the man i love, and my best friend. he places equal emphasis on both the romantic and platonic aspects of the relationship, valuing ballister in both a romantic context and a platonic context without treating either one as more important than the other.

and even moments such as the first “i love you” and the kiss manage to subvert tradition. both of these things are generally seen as a pretty big deal, especially in fiction - if the characters are kissing or saying “i love you,” it’s usually a moment in which everything changes. a line is drawn, dividing the story into after and now. sometimes it’s dramatic and climactic, with fireworks and a swell of music, but even when it isn’t it’s still seen as a turning point of sorts. now it’s official, now it’s real. but this isn’t the case in nimona. both moments are certainly significant - they do a good job of showcasing the character development and where ballister and ambrosius are on their respective journeys, and are certainly important in terms of representation - but neither one follows the path that most fictional romance does.

another way in which nimona challenges amatonormativity would be the emphasis on friendship! in the tavern scene (in the movie) when ambrosius suggests killing nimona, ballister disagrees and says “she’s my friend.” ambrosius replies with “aren’t i more than that?”, implying he’s more important than a friend - thus upholding amatonormative ideas. ballister becomes angry at that and leaves - challenging this idea and prioritizing his platonic relationship with nimona over his romantic one with ambrosius, as nimona is the one he wants to defend.

additionally, a big part of this scene is the way ballister deliberately rejects institute values while ambrosius unintentionally upholds them. and because the story challenges homophobia and transphobia (and other forms of bigotry) through the lens of the institute, it would make sense for it to challenge amatonormativity too! it’s something that’s become incredibly normalized, to the point that lots of people don’t even know it exists, and this is reminiscent of the institute brainwashing, especially when it comes to ambrosius - he’s been manipulated his whole life and probably genuinely doesn’t understand the level to which he’s internalized institute beliefs.

ballister prioritizes nimona many times, actually. when he tells ambrosius she’s “smart, kind, and quite sophisticated,” when he’s overjoyed to see her again at the end, when he refuses to kill her and saves her instead. over and over, he proves how much he cares about her, even when this involves directly going against what ambrosius wants - which, of course, is really what the institute wants. a core tenant of amatonormativity is the false notion that romantic relationships are more important or valuable than other types of relationships, but ballister actively goes against this!

to conclude, as a story that at its core is about identity and challenging societal beliefs, nimona defies expectations and traditional ideas of what it should or shouldn’t be. it’s possible that amatonormativity wasn’t what the creators had in mind, but the story still manages to challenge it with grace and elegance. just like its main character, nimona refuses to conform to what others want it to be.

#nimona #nimona movie #ballister blackheart #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #ambrosius x ballister #nimona netflix #nd stevenson #nimona spoilers #i could go on tbh but i think this is a digestible amount #often when i’m writing a meta i’ll walk around in circles talking into my phone recording my thoughts out loud #and then i’ll play it back and put the most coherent stuff into a list which eventually becomes paragraphs #and the combined recordings for this one are about half an hour in total lol #i’m just. absolutely in love with the whole story. both the book and the movie mean so incredibly much to me #changed my life shaped me as a person etc etc :’)#OH i almost forgot. this analysis is dedicated to the person who sent me aphobic anon hate about it before it even existed lol #i know i said i wouldn’t post anything if people couldn’t be normal but idc actually. seethe with rage! <3 #my words #meta

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bonezone44 · 4 months

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'Doesn't Nothing Ever Last Forever?' (18+)

Raider!Joel x afab!Reader

Word Count: 5,4k

(FYI: woman in moodboard is a side character.)

Summary: You worked in a brothel outside of a quarantine zone. Every once in a while, you got a visit from Joel and his men. This was your first time being around for one of those visits. (Reader is severely depressed and bisexual [relatable, amiright?]. Reader is not popular at the brothel.)

tags: DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT (tagging this to be safe!) Kidnapping, sexual slavery, group sex, overstimulation, rough oral (m). POV switching, canon-typical violence. -- Sex between Reader and Joel is non-con. Reader enjoys it, but the larger context doesn't allow for consent. Fingering, unprotected p-in-v. Degradation. Finger-sucking. Spanking. Orgasm control/denial. Joel is turned on by Reader's history w/ women. Reader is called slut, good girl, bad girl. Reader calls Joel "sir."

A/N: Written for @iamasaddie's writing challenge. ✏ I was so excited by their moodboards, I had to participate. Also, read @toxicanonymity for the original Raider!Joel which heavily inspired this one. 🙏 And special thanks to @milla-frenchy for helping me choose a story line. 😘

story masterlist - main masterlist

+++++

The days bled together, one right after the other. No matter how clear the skies were, a permanent fog had taken over your mind.

The only reason you woke up that evening was all the commotion. You heard the roar of diesel engines and loud men laughing and yelling. The slamming of car doors. Then those voices got louder and closer. Obviously, they had made their way inside your building. You knew you should rise and shine. Get to work. But you stayed curled up on your bed cushion in the shared room as long as possible. Even after your boss had been calling for you.

It wasn’t the kind of job you punched in and out of. You lived in a brothel. You were paid by the client–and even then sometimes all you got was a spare coin or two. A ration slip, if you were really lucky. But those could only be spent at the nearby Quarantine Zone. And the four hour trek there and back was hell on your feet and knees.

Your boss, Larry, finally opened the door to your room, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he allowed the noise and chaos to do the job of waking you up.

You unfurled from the floor and wandered to the bathrooms, bare fit sticking to the tile floors. You had hoped no one would catch you and make you work. You hadn’t had it in you to do anything that day. What you really wanted to do was float away, fly with the clouds on the wind to somewhere far, far over the rainbow.

You found Trisha at the sinks, under the sickly green lights, already washing cum from her hands.

“Joel and his crew are here again,” she mumbled. There was a tremor in her voice.

You nodded blankly. Tired.

She turned around and stared at you with wide eyes. “Joel,” she emphasized.

“Okay?” You shrugged. Your eyes bored into a growing mold stain in the corner.

She scoffed. “Joel is the guy who bought Carrie.”

“What?” … ‘Bought Carrie?’ That didn’t sound right to you. “I just thought… she left.”

Trisha stared at you, aghast. The room was cold, but steam began to fog the mirror. “Are you fucking kidding me? You were there!” She shouted. “You were there when Larry told us he sold her for the fucking water heater!” She pointed at the filling sink.

You blinked. “...Oh.” You wiped your eyes with your hands. “I don’t… really remember.” Her words didn’t quite click it into place for you, but a dull memory played in the back of your mind. You remembered a ‘house meeting’ and hearing Carrie’s name a lot. You remembered getting the water heater. You remembered everyone being upset and yelling at Larry. You remembered curling in the corner, your brain checking out and wandering through the static of your own mind rather than feeling something–anything–in your own body.

That explained all the weird looks you had gotten later when you expressed excitement over the hot water. You had been happy about something for once and everyone responded by staring at you like you were a freak.

But everyone you had ever met always felt so far away. Like you were so deep in the depths of your own mind that the world around you was a movie you were watching. All the people in your life were characters playing out their roles. So you did, too. You went through the daily motions, following some imaginary script in your mind. Playing a part. Doing whatever you thought you were supposed to.

Trisha started telling you more stories about Joel and his crew. About their violence. But none of it sounded real. It sounded like another movie to you. You stood, unmoving, wishing you had some bleach to clean the mold in the corner. You wanted to scrub the grout until it was pure again. Wipe away the layer of filmy mildew from the ceramic tiles. Disinfect every inch of porcelain in this piece of shit building.

Another woman entered the bathroom, fully nude. “Well, look who decided to show up!” she spat at you. “Go out there and do your job. I need a fucking break.”

You sighed and resigned yourself to your fate. “Okay,” you muttered without meeting her eyes. You didn’t bother looking in the mirror or worrying about your clothes. You knew that in your line of work, they didn’t make a difference either way.

You walked out to the main room and saw about a dozen men scattered around the couches, women in their laps or on their knees.

One woman was sitting naked in a guy’s lap while another guy roughly rubbed and slapped her clit. His laughter grossed you out. The woman was crying.

Another woman was getting facefucked and choking. She pulled back to cough and breathe. The man she was sucking on held himself in a tight grip. He pushed the hair from her face and whispered softly to her, wiping away her tears, before shoving his cock right back in.

You nodded at the scene unaffected… well, mostly unaffected. You stared into the middle distance and focused on no one person in particular. The women’s moans were mostly performative–it was obvious. But the men didn’t seem to mind. Their moans were hungry and horny, enjoying whatever stimulation they seemed to be receiving. So that was what you focused on. Their blatant sexual desire. It fueled your own heat. A fire expanding in your chest and between your legs. Your mouth began to water. You sucked in your bottom lip, eager to feel flesh inside you.

You weren’t sure how long you were standing there, watching. It merely occurred to you at some point that one of the men was walking up to you, blocking your view of the scene. He wore a dark brown leather jacket over a v-neck shirt. A small, shiny gold cross hung around his neck and against his sunburned skin. He wore blue jeans and work boots.

Your boss, Larry, yammered in one of your ears at him.

“Joel,” he pleaded with clasped hands. “I’m sure you’d prefer someone like Trisha or-or-or Cameron. I’m sure, she’ll be right back out any minute!”

“No,” Joel says gruffly. “Her,” he pointed to you with his chin.

“I’m sure. I’m sure.” Your boss chuckled uncomfortably and surrendered with empty palms. “Of course!” He grabbed you by the arm and tugged you toward the back of the building. He snarled in your ear. “Don’t fuck this up for me.”

You wanted to shrug him off, but his grip was bruising. What could you ‘fuck up’ exactly? You had been working there for over a year. You weren’t popular, but you got the job done. You didn’t get along with any of the other women there, but what did that have to do with this guy, Joel?

Larry took you and Joel to one of the farthest rooms. It was the nice one with a real bed instead of a mattress or cushion on the floor. You had never been in it before. Not even to clean it. You looked around appraising the paint on the walls. There was a window, but it was dark out. The noise from the main room was barely audible. You liked being somewhere quiet again.

#######

Joel and his crew pulled up around dinnertime in two pick-up trucks. The sun had set and the truck’s headlights bathed the front of the old office building in a warm, dull yellow.

The crickets were louder than hell that night. Joel remembered that much.

Not five seconds after his boys hopped out the trucks did the brothel owner come skittering out the front door with a nervous grin on his face.

Joel liked that. Piece o’ shit like that should be nervous.

Joel hated Larry. The man was fucking pathetic. Weasel-y. So needy and desperate to please. Joel hated that Larry sold him a woman for a water heater. What kinda man would do something like that? This was supposed to be a brothel. The women were supposed to be his employees. He didn’t have the right to sell anybody.

But Joel had wanted her. And taking her outright would have caused more problems than it would have solved. So he figured a water heater would help keep things peaceful between them. Because his boys liked the brothel. Each little trip helped ease their minds. Gave them something to talk about and look forward to–something other than survival.

Joel’s needs were more permanent. He needed something more full-time rather than once every few months.

His boys started hooting and hollering as soon as the payment of supplies were unloaded and they got to hang out inside. The women weren’t even around yet, but they were more than ready for some physical entertainment. Joel remained standing while the rest of them spread out along the decaying leather couches lining the walls. A shitty little cd player sat in the corner playing old R&B music. He heard his brother, Tommy, singing along to it.

Joel sighed and wiped his face with his hands.

Once Larry brought out a few women, the men started roaring. They were shouting and cheering, pulling their cocks out in excitement. Joel groaned. These boys didn’t know a goddamn thing about seducing a woman and their sad little dicks weren’t gonna get them anywhere neither.

Two of the guys grabbed one of the women, causing her to shout, but Joel was on them not a second later. He gripped their skulls, one in each of his giant hands, and knocked them together like coconut shells.

“Ouch! What the hell, man?” asked one of them, rubbing the sore spot on his head.

Joel shook his head with his eyes wide, boring into the depths of their souls. “Not until I say,” he spat.

They both tucked their heads under, murmuring. “Yes, Joel.” “Whatever you say, Joel.”

The woman got back in line while the boys sat down on the couch.

“I’m sure I’ve got a couple more on the way,” said Larry with a forced smile. “They’re just getting themselves cleaned up, I’m sure, after uh… after finishing dinner.”

Joel grunted. He knew what he wanted–knew what kind of woman he was looking for. And he was quick to realize that none of the women in the room were it. So he waved his hand and his men let loose.

Joel stood with his arms crossed and his back against the front door. He kept his eye on the two troublemakers. Kept his ear on Tommy. Tommy was a talker. He loved to chat up the working women as if he was in a bar back home in Texas and looking to find himself a girlfriend. Joel thought Tommy was being ridiculous—acting like the women could say ‘no’ and walk away. Like he had to put real effort in. It annoyed the hell out of Joel. He wanted his crew to have their fun and be done with it. Why did Tommy have to make it so complicated?

Joel was getting bored and antsy the longer he waited. He was feeling needy, too, with the rough sounds of sex filling the air around him. But he was hopeful, preferring to be patient. And if, in the end, there was no woman he wanted, he would pick one at random and blow off some steam. He would find a replacement some other time or start looking around at the nearest Quarantine Zone.

Then you walked in.

And at first, Joel was ready to shrug you off, too. Sure, you were attractive. But looks weren't everything. That's what got him in trouble with the last woman.

But something in your eyes changed as you scanned the room, taking in the sexual depravity. You didn't shrink in and shut down. You were turned on. He saw the way your chest rose and fell as your breaths shallowed and shortened. The way you chewed your bottom lip. The way you squirmed. That's what Joel needed. Someone as needy as him.

The brothel owner tried to dissuade him. Huh, Joel wanted to laugh. As if that asshole knew a goddamn thing about what Joel wanted–about what Joel needed.

“Take your clothes off ‘n get on the bed,” he ordered after slamming the door shut behind him. He liked how quickly you complied. He didn’t understand why you were so calm, though. He unbuckled his belt, releasing the pressure from his stomach and allowing himself some room to breathe. He let the buckle hang and it jingled as he stepped closer to the bed.

“All fours.”

Again, you complied swiftly and smoothly, facing the back wall.

He eyed you for any sores. Then he slipped his bare hand around the smooth curve of your ass and his fingertips prodded around your lips and entrance. You were already wet, he realized. He slid the edge of his fingers forward against your clit.

You moaned. Something fake and bland.

He pulled his hand away and slapped you on the ass. “Hey.” He grabbed you by the cheeks when you didn't immediately face him. Your eyes never met his. “Don't fuckin showboat me,” he warned.

“Okay,” you said flatly.

He didn’t like how detached you were. How unafraid. But he willed himself to be patient–the amount of wetness coating his fingers eased his anxiety. He continued to play with your folds as he asked questions.

He cleared his throat. “You like workin here?”

You shrugged. “It’s a job.”

“How long you been here?”

“About a year.”

Joel hummed. “I don’t remember you from last time.”

“Probably had the flu.”

“You got over it okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nodded, closing your eyes. You seemed to like it when he moved his thick fingers around you real slow. He liked that.

“You got anything else? Any diseases?”

You shook your head. “I don’t get a lot of men.”

Joel paused. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. They like the other girls better.”

“Why’s that?”

You shrugged again. “They’re better at fakin it.”

Joel didn’t know how to feel about that answer. He continued to rub your clit, feeling you get slicker. “So what? You do handjobs, blowjobs?”

“Mostly.”

He noticed an uptick in the tone of your voice. “You like doin those?”

“If the guy is cute.”

He slid his fingers from your clit to your entrance to your other hole. He didn’t push in, only pressed against it, and you sighed. “What about this?” he asked, biting his lip. “You like gettin your ass played with?”

You hung your head and nodded. “If they do it right,” you said with another uptick in your tone.

Joel liked that. “Ever have a train run on ya?” He slid his fingers back to your clit.

“Yeah,” you answered with a whimper.

“You like it?”

Your breath hitched as Joel’s fingers sped up. “Been through worse.”

“Worse? Here?” Joel asked, wondering what could happen at a brothel that was worse than a gang-bang.

“No just… you know…” you sighed with pleasure. “--in general.”

Joel furrowed his brows. You were being honest with him. Too honest, in his opinion. But you were rolling your hips into his hand. And he didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

He shoved two fingers inside of you without warning. Your body twitched and you moaned–and it was different this time. Quieter. Realer. Joel liked that. He didn’t mind taking his time to get you ready if he knew you would enjoy it.

“You like fuckin, huh?”

“Who doesn’t?” You snickered, pushing back into his thrusting hand.

Joel took a deep breath, maintaining his composure. But he knew then that he wanted you. That you were just what he needed and more.

#######

You liked this Joel guy. He took his time. He was asking you questions, trying to get to know you. You don’t remember the last time anyone had done that. …Well, maybe when you first started working there. Trisha and Carrie and a couple of the other women tried, but this felt different for some reason. Like it was leading somewhere. Like there was a promise at the end of it. Like maybe he really wanted to make you come and he wasn’t just there for himself.

And you liked his voice. It was smoky and deep. He had an accent like a cowboy. It was comforting, in a way.

And his fingers felt nice. He knew what he was doing. You couldn't remember the last time a guy got you that wet with just his hand.

Part of you felt a little hopeful. You thought you might finally get to have some fun like the other girls did. Most of the guys you got were ugly or just plain ol’ depressing. Another part of you couldn’t stop thinking about Carrie for some reason. You’re not sure why she kept coming up in your mind. You two never worked together. You barely knew her at all.

“You ever fuck the other women here?” Joel asked.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in proud affirmation. It even pulled a smile from you.

“What's that mean?”

You weren’t sure how you expected him to react. You weren’t sure why you answered that way. “It means… yeah,” you replied while embarrassment burned your cheeks. You had barely looked at him before, but now you really didn’t want to see his face.

“Yeah, you like fuckin women?” His voice turned breathy. You heard his buckle jingle and the slide of the zipper of his jeans.

It turned you on to know that he liked that. Some men hated it. Made you feel like shit for it. But man, this Joel guy was something else. It made you want more of him. More of his fingers. His voice. His skin. “Yeah,” you moaned and shoved yourself harder into his hands, thrusting his fingers deeper.

“So what? You lick their pussies? Rub your little cunts together?”

Your mouth hung open from his words. “yeah,” you said with a hot breath. He pulled his fingers from inside of you and drew circles on your clit. You started whimpering. You nodded your head as fire burned in your core and across your skin.

“That’s why you work here, huh? You got a needy little cunt?”

His fingers were moving so fast, the muscles in your legs were jumping and your toes were curling. “Uh-huh,” you moaned loud enough for your voice to echo around the bare room.

“That why you left the Q-Z? This slutty hole wasn’t get fucked enough?” His fingers slid back inside your entrance. You’re not sure how many he stuffed in, but it was more than before.

You nodded with a desperate moan, your right leg slapping the mattress beneath you in frustration. You needed more. His fingers, his words–they weren’t enough. Your body was hot and sparking and you needed-needed-needed. “Joel, please,” you begged, turning to face him, finally opening your eyes again. He was stroking himself and the sight of his cock made you drool.

“Whatchu need, sweetheart?” He asked and you could almost kill him for it.

“Please, please fuck me, Joel. Please.”

“Need it that bad, huh?” He kicked off his boots and shoved his pants all the way down to the floor.

You got out of the way as he crawled into the bed and sat up against the headboard.

“Come and get this cock, you fuckin slut,” he growled. One hand held his length while the other pulled you by the arm.

You were too hungry to notice how tightly he gripped you. You hovered over his lap as he lined himself up with your entrance. You stared at the curve of his lips on the way down, the mix of gray and brown hairs in his mustache. But there was white on his cheeks and chin. You briefly wondered how old he was. But you couldn’t bring yourself to get a good look at his face. Too busy melting from the pressure of his cock stretching your walls. Fuck, it felt good. You braced yourself on his firm, wide shoulders and brought your hips back up a few inches before sinking down on his length even further. You groaned and tucked your head into his neck.

#######

You started sucking on his neck and his hips began to thrust up into you.

“It ain’t enough that I’m stuffin your cunt?” he grunted. “You need me in your mouth, too?”

You moaned against his throat, sending goosebumps all over his skin. “Yeah,” you said through panting breaths, before latching back on, teeth and tongue digging into his muscle.

Joel liked you. He really liked you. You were wet and riding him just right. You weren’t mechanical about it, neither–like Joel was just another job to you. There was a sadness to you, sure. It was probably why you didn’t get a lot of men. Men wanted to forget their troubles at the brothel. Have some fun. They wanted the world outside to disappear with their cock inside a woman.

But Joel had tried that. And it hadn’t worked out so good.

So this time, he looked for someone different. Someone who would understand. Someone who would get why he needed to fuck and when and how he needed to fuck, too.

And you were telling him everything he needed to know. He was learning what you wanted and what you liked and what he could use to threaten you into compliance.

He pulled you away from his neck, not sure how he felt about being covered in hickeys. “Here,” Joel prodded your lips with his middle and ring finger. “Suck on this, you greedy little slut.”

And you did, moaning desperately as you rolled your hips in his lap. You gagged as he slid his fingers back and forth on your tongue, saliva spilling from the edges of your lips and down your chin. Your eyes were closed and he knew there was nothing going on in your mind. He knew you were focused on nothing but how good he was making you feel.

You started bouncing on his cock and he slapped your ass with his free hand. He gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, forcing you to stop.

“Did I say you could do that?”

Your eyes popped open–meeting his directly. You tried to pull your head away to answer, but Joel shoved his fingers in even further.

He repeated himself. “You tryin to come right now? Did I say you could?”

You let out a pathetic whine and shook your head.

He slapped your ass again and this time he noticed your pussy clench around him. He heard a small moan grow and die in your throat. “You come when I fuckin say you can come,” he snarled with his teeth clenched. He smacked your asscheek again and thrust up into you.

You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut.

“That turn you on?” He gripped your ass in his hand. “You like takin’ your medicine, bad girl?”

You tried to turn your head, but Joel still had his fingers in your mouth and he held you in place. You looked at him with the most pathetic, pleading look.

“I asked you a question,” Joel growled with wide eyes. His cock twitched inside of you. “You like takin’ your medicine? You like bein told what to do?”

You squeezed your eyes shut again and quietly nodded.

Joel liked that. He liked that a lot. He took his fingers from your mouth and gripped your cheeks. Your eyes popped open again. He licked his lips. “You be a good girl and make me come first, then we’ll see what you get, okay?”

You nodded.

“Now what do you say?”

Your brows furrowed.

“When I tell you what to do, what do you say?”

Your face softened. You blinked slowly before answering. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s right.” Joel grunted and thrusted his hips. “Now, make me come, you little slut.” His fingers dug into your own hips to guide your rhythm to what he wanted. “Make me come and we’ll see what you get.”

“Yes, sir. Yes, sir,” you murmured again and again.

Your warm, wet cunt sucked him in and stroked him. He could hear it, too, how drippy and turned on you were. It wasn’t long before he tossed you off him with a grunt, throwing you onto your back on the bed. He only fisted his cock twice before shooting his spend on your spread open pussy, on the hair on your mound. He wiped his cum down and around on your clit. “Come on, girl. You can come now. Come on,” he chanted. He rubbed your clit back and forth with the flat of his four fingers. “Give that greedy little cunt what it needs. Come on.”

Your body curled in as you orgasmed and you moaned loudly into your arm. Joel didn’t see the need for you to be quiet, but it was too late to do anything about it now. He rubbed you with his thumb until your legs clasped shut and you squirmed away.

He wiped his hands on the sheets and got up from the bed. He pulled his jeans back on, but waited to buckle his belt. He sat back down and put his shoes on.

You were still lying where he left you. Curled up in the fetal position. It almost looked like you were falling asleep. He figured you might as well rest up now. The drive back home was a bumpy one.

He sighed when he stood up. He figured he should get the liquor bottles out of the truck sooner than later. He huffed. Larry was a real piece of shit for trading a woman for liquor. But Joel wanted you. And he was gonna have you.

#######

You were reeling. Sexually, you were satisfied, but every other emotion bursted and channeled itself through your muscles and across your skin. You felt so vulnerable. This man had seen you–seen you! Like you were a real person or something! Like you weren’t just a ghost or a character in a movie! Everything felt wrong and you couldn’t figure out why. And you couldn’t stop thinking about Carrie for some reason.

You stayed as still as possible until you heard Joel’s booted footsteps leave the room. You were grateful he didn’t say anything or try to touch you again. Your body trembled as you got out of the bed. You walked on shaky legs to the bathrooms to clean yourself. The world around you was so close and too clear. You could hear and differentiate everyone’s voices in the main room. The air was humid and you could taste it–actually taste it like it was a wet, moldy cloud in your mouth.

Your hands tremored. You tried to exert control over them, but you were barely able to turn on the sink. You mostly swatted at the faucets until water came out. And there was no comfort to be had in the warm, rushing water. You noticed tension in your cheeks and thought you wanted to cry, but couldn’t make any tears come out.

The woman in the mirror scared you. It was you. You knew it was you. But she felt unfamiliar. Three dimensional. You wanted to run. Run away to the Quarantine Zone or—or anywhere but here.

Then you heard screaming, shrill screams from what had to be one of the other women. Suddenly you were being dragged out of the bathroom. Trisha’s hands were on you. Her fingers were small and thin and her skin was smooth and cold. You had never noticed before.

The lights in the main room were so bright that you could see everything. Every small piece of leather that had flaked off each of the couches and landed on the dirty, carpeted floor. The carpet itself was covered in dust and dirt and leaves. Where did the leaves come from? you wondered. How did they get tracked inside? Weren’t people wiping their shoes like they were supposed to?

There were people moving around. Naked. Half-naked. Clothed. All talking over each other. And blood. Bright red blood. One of the women, with long gold hair, was covered in it, shrieking in pain with both her hands on her hip. Two others guided her past you towards the back. One of Joel’s men was apologizing to Larry. He had black curly hair and a thick mustache. Larry was screaming in his face.

You saw Joel from the back as he pushed himself up from the couch. His shoulder rose and fell with deep, heaving breaths. There was blood dripping from his fist and there was someone beneath him. Once he stepped away, you saw an oblong fleshy ball of bright red where a face should have been. The body beneath the ball didn’t move.

You folded in half and started heaving. Trisha shrieked in your ear.

“I’m so sick of you assholes coming here and-and-and-and–” Larry was caught in a loop as he pulled his gun from his pocket. It was a small revolver. You watched his gray-skinned thumb pull back the hammer. “I’m sure! I’m sure!” he yelled over the shouting.

The man with the black curly hair lunged at Larry with a curse.

The gun-shot stilled everyone in the room. It was loud enough that for a moment, you thought you had been shot. The vibrations pierced you to the very center of your being. But then… Larry was on the floor. Sprinkled with dust from the ceiling tile. And then there was more blood. Bright red blood spilling out from his body.

You breathed in relief. Not only that you were still alive, but that it was Larry that was dead. For a few beautiful seconds, you felt free. Free from his bullshit and free from the brothel. Free to go back to the quarantine zone and start over again.

Trisha’s smooth fingers pulled one of your arms, but something warm and calloused pulled your other. You looked up, confused. It was Joel. Joel’s hand, which had been on you only minutes previous, felt so strange and unfamiliar. You had just shared a bed with him but–that had been a different man. Certainly different than the one that stood before you now with blood-splattered on his clothes and sweat beading around his temples.

“You can’t take her!” Trisha cried, tears pouring out her eyes. “You can’t take her!”

“Sorry, darlin’,” he said. Joel’s eyes looked sad. “She’s mine now.”

Terror fell over you like a cold, biting wind. He was talking about you.

Your body started trembling again. You tried and failed to pull your arm away from his grip. “NO!” You shouted. Your vision went blurry as you sobbed. “Don’t take me! Please!” That was why you couldn’t stop thinking about Carrie. Joel had bought Carrie. Trisha had told you that Joel had bought Carrie. But the information hadn’t clicked into place. You had spent so long avoiding your body, avoiding feeling any emotion at all that when it spent all night trying to warn you, you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t feel the siren in your gut telling you to stay away from Joel. And now that siren was loud and clear. But it was far too late for you to do anything about it. “Don’t take me! Pleasepleaseplease!”

Joel didn’t budge. He leaned in real close to you. “Now you told me you like bein told what to do.” Your face went fiery hot with shame. He yanked your arm, pulling you from Tasha’s grip. “And right now, I’m tellin you that you’re comin with me.” He continued to pull you out the front door, towards his truck.

“No! Nonono!” You cried. You tried one more time to shake him off, but it was pointless. He was too strong. You were too weak. And you started to wonder if you could have prevented this or if it was simply your fate. Your own boss hadn’t been able to say ‘no’ to these men. What could someone like you have done?

You sobbed into your hands as you sat in the truck. The man with the black curly hair got in the driver’s seat. Joel sat on the other side of you and rubbed your back in some sick attempt at comfort. “You be good for me–” he said, adjusting himself. “--then we’ll see what you get.”

+++++

a/n: Please let me know if I missed a tag. Also, idk if it's really a DDDNE story or not. ??

story title taken from the song "Mary the Ice Cube" by Primus.

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #✏️ game #✏ game club

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tv3headz · 4 months

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Loser, baby reprise idea

If we get a reprise of loser, baby in season 2 I want it to be the opposite of the original song.

like wether that be something going on with alastor, his gambling/ alcohol tendencies, or the fact that he hates he’s a winged cat. Maybe, if we wanna be angsty, all three.

Like how the OG song was a combination of ANGEL’s relationship with VAL, his self destructing habits like drugs and alcohol, and his self hatred for his body and being a toy for Val, (or a PET, like how Alastor sees husk!)

And then I believe this would take place somewhere more personal like in a enclosed room or bathroom or even at the hotel bar, where the OG was in a messy open setting on some rando street.

Preferably it would be later in the season so there would be a bigger break and relationship development to help the reprise hit harder since it has ALREADY become their song. (And to help the pacing)

So husk would be all down in the dumps and Angel would lift him up the same way Husk did to him all those months ago but since then, their relationship has become deeper and sweeter so it would be slightly more… cute?

Like I don’t want something as light as the more than anything reprise compared to the original song where it just becomes lighter and more natural, no.

I want it to be sweeter in a way where it reflects how these two are still struggling together, are still losers together but it’s become less insulting and more lighthearted and teasing. like we already see in episode 8 that the losers thing has become a cute lil joke.

So, it developed even more to where the reprise makes it genuinely sweet while not dumbing down on the purpose of the original song? That would be PERFECTION.

It would be shorter than the og since it is a reprise, and it would NOT be where they kiss. I have many ideas for when they kiss (if they even do cuz omg I love slow burns but idk if I could wait ANOTHER season if we even get a S3) probably about a minute long like the other reprises.

Since I’m so hyperfixated on this idea, I already imagine the main line is changed ever so slightly.

Instead of ‘you’re A loser baby,’ it’s something super sappy and romantic like ‘you’re MY loser, baby,’ and they would both joke about how soft and stupid they’ve become?!?! I would MELTTTT.

I highly doubt if this were to happen these would be the lyrics by here’s my idea of how it would kinda go

Angel to husk: so things look bad, and you’re back’s against the wall… *much slower, lighter, softer.

You’re whole existence seems, fuckin’ hopeless..

You’re feelin’ filthy as a {I feel like they would change the lyric here, but it would depend on the context and setting to make it work. Like how the og was outside a gross bar, the line ‘dive bar bathroom stall’ fit for that situation. Or it’s just a general metaphor and I’m insane.}

Can’t face the world sober, and dopeless… [ok imagine instead if it getting higher here like the OG song it gets LOWER? It would be a nice change for a reprise : o]

You’ve lost.. you’re way… but you know you’re life ain’t wrecked {There’s two ways the buildup to the chorus rewrite could go. -

They could keep it the same, or change it up in a way to where Angel is referring to how Husk already helped him through this and this situation and how he knows it’s pointless to dwell. Which is why he’s helping husk now with the same problem, but he’s just a dumbass because he knows this! Reflecing on the original song idea of ‘yeah you’re pathetic but so am I with you’ kinda mentality.}

So I guess we’re correct… {or, as I originally said, OG lyrics BASED ON story context. Obviously idk what S2 is gonna be like lol}

You’re my loser, baby, my loser, goddamn baby you’re my fucked up little whiney bitch, you’re a loser just like me.

*And I would adore it if husk just did a sarcastic scoff and said ‘thanks asshole’*

You’re my screws-loose boozer and only one star reviewser [this line on they would sing it togetherrr]

You’re a {Depending on if the OG song was saying that Husk was also a power bottom and that was his company or if he just generally had company is still unclear to me, so they could hypothetically keep that line or take a spin on it where they joke about, say, husk being a submissive top? I’m just flowing with ideas gosh} [I wouldn’t be able to make a clever rhyme for that joke except for this so why not] >>>>>>

You’re a sub top at/off the highest rooftop, but you’ve got company~* in a more flirty and teasing tone cuz husk was also teasing him a lot in loser, baby*

I will not explain the joke but it’s pretty self explanatory [The roof is considered either the most empty or luxurious part of a building, it can also be roofs, flying, wings I THOUGHT ABOUT THIS! And off if we want be a lil… dark if we ain’t referring to flying 🤨]

|Anyways I ain’t no professional songwriter in any way that’s just a little personal dumb line|

And then it would end! Like I said not in a kiss like the more than anything reprise cuz I don’t really want another chaggie parallel? (Not saying the chaggie and huskerdust parallels are bad it’s just parallels between the f/f couple and m/m couple when they’re both very different I don’t want to be many) -

I think it would be a hug or a soft snuggle or something more simple get intimate like that : P since Angel needs sweet stuff not more ‘sexual’ :/ advancements.

Or this whole thing is pointless cuz the point of the song was Husk telling Angel once and for all that he’s not alone and they wouldn’t need to bring it up again? But we already got the instrumental so there’s slight hope…

Anyways, if we were to get a loser baby reprise that is just my personal idea of what I think would happen! Obviously the second season is already written but if something even remotely similar happens to this I will be happy. Hell maybe I was right on point but it’s highly unlikely haha

Toodles~ |I didn’t write this at 2 am instead of sleeping on a school night cuz I had 2 assignments due whatttt|

#Hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel season 2 #Hazbin hotel idea #Huskerdust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #not really a theory just an idea #loser baby hazbin hotel #love these sillies #Rants #rants n rambles #spouting ideas #I’m too invested in this concept #Long post #hazbin hotel season 1 #hazbin hotel song #reprise concept #Just me being silly #The line you’re MY loser baby still makes me melt omg I just love that

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gentlyweeps-world · 6 months

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The Cheesy Stuff

summary: You and Logan get into the Christmas mood, getting a tree, decorating and even watching a Christmas movie with hot chocolate and cookies

pairing: logan sargeant x fem!reader

warnings: none, just fluff/romance

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

“Logan I dont think it's going to fit…” You say knowing he wont listen to you anyway. “No…no it will” He says, not admitting it himself, but you were right.

“Do we really need a real Christmas tree? We could always just get a fake one, it would fit in the apartment better” You suggest, looking up at the tree Logan wants to take back to your apartment.

“Yes we need a real one..” He says with a huff, wrapping his arm around your waist. For context Logan wanted to go out to a tree farm and buy a tree for Christmas, but he severely underestimated how much space you have in your apartment.

“I just don't know if we have enough room” You say softly, leaning into him. “We will baby, don't worry” He says with a smile, squeezing you into his side. You let out a soft sigh, if only he wasn't so stubborn.

“Baby, I want to put up this tree…” He says, trying to convince you as he puts on his best puppy dog face. “C’mon, don’t be a party pooper. This tree is beautiful, we have to get it!” He says, holding a tight grip on you.

“Why do you never listen to me when I say no, I never get what I want” You say, rolling your eyes at him. “Baby, I always get what I want, you should know this by now.” He says with a smirk, squeezing you closer into him.

“You’re paying for it..” You say with a defeated sigh, “And you’re going to help decorate!” You add on.

“Pshh, I’m gonna make you pay for half…” He says in a teasing manner. “Of course, I’ll even help decorate it” He says with a wink.

“Now…let’s go get it loaded onto the truck!” He says, grabbing your hand and quickly heading towards his truck.

After Logan pays for the tree, and you help him get it loaded into his truck you head back to your apartment, which is thankfully only one story so you got it in no problem.

Once you get the tree inside, Logan quickly begins to set it up. “Aww, I forgot how much work it was to put a Christmas tree up…” He says with a big sigh.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad!” You tell him, getting out the ornaments and other decorations. “You’re right, we should have gotten a fake one…” He says, looking up at the tree. “It’s too late now though, we might as well make the most of it!”

“I told you so..” You muse with a smirk, watching him put the lights on the tree.

He laughs as he strings the lights around the tree. “I know baby, I know…” He says with a smirk of his own.

“Hmm let me put on some Christmas music!” You say, getting onto your TV and clicking onto Spotify you play the first Christmas playlist that shows up.

Logan smiles softly while he continues decorating the tree. The Christmas music starts to play and he turns to you with a smirk. “Is this going to be one of those cheesy Christmas movie nights, where we cuddle and watch a movie while we have hot chocolate?” He asks.

“Do you want it to be?" You ask with a grin, helping him place ornaments on the tree.

“Hell yeah I do” He says as he hangs more ornaments. “Do I get extra cuddles if I go out and get your favorite cookies?” He asks with a smirk.

“I think so..” You reply with a smile, “If you go now I’ll finish decorating and even make something to eat” You add on, knowing he would have gotten the cookies anyway.

Logan places a quick kiss to your lips. “I’m gonna hold you to that!” He says before grabbing his coat and heading out to the nearby grocery store.

Quietly humming along to Last Christmas by Wham, you finish decorating the tree, and even decorate the main area of your apartment a bit.

You walk over to the fridge, grabbing a frozen pizza from the freezer and putting it in the oven.

Soon the pizza is done, you cut it up and place it on the coffee table in front of your couch, and place two mugs of hot chocolate next to it too.

Logan comes back, bringing the cookies with him as well as some of your favorite candy/snacks. “Here you are honey, I went ahead and picked up a couple of extrast” He says.

He looks at the food, then at you and smiles. “This is all really nice, did you make the hot chocolate?” He asks as he sits down on the couch, setting out the stuff he got you.

“I did make the hot chocolate..” You say with a giggle, picking up the Williams racing mug you were gifted by Lily and drink some of the hot chocolate as you sit next to Logan on the couch.

Logan smiles a bit bigger, and he scoots a bit closer to you so he can put his arm around your shoulders. He takes a slice of the pizza and eats it. “So…..I was thinking we could watch your favorite Christmas movie” He says, looking at you.

“I thought you hated that movie though?” You ask surprised that he would suggest watching your favorite Christmas movie.

“I don’t like it, but it’s your favorite” He says, squeezing your hand, and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Plus, if I don’t let you watch it now, you’re just gonna make me watch it again later aren’t you?” He says with a smirk.

“Hmm well you aren’t wrong” You say with a giggle, moving to set down your mug, and grab the remote, turning on your favorite movie as you snuggle up into Logan, eating a few slices of pizza and cookies.

Logan wraps his arms around your body, kissing the top of your head every so often as you snuggle together and eat the pizza.

Soon the movie ends, with only a few slices of pizza left and most of the cookies gone, mugs of hot chocolate empty.

You’re laying right on top of Logan, too tired to move or get up to clean.

Logan smiles at you as he lays on the couch with you. He looks at the pizza, and the cookies, and back at you. “I’ll take care of it later” He says, grabbing your hand and squeezing it as he nuzzles his head into your shoulder.

“Thank you baby..” You mumble out with a smile, taking in his warmth. Logan smiles at you with half asleep eyes, his breath warm against your shoulder, “I love you Y/n…” He mumbles.

“I love you too Log” You mumble back, tracing your fingers along his chest.

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y/n 🍪🍪🍪

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logansargeant love you 🤍

y/n love you too 🩵

williamsracing We have the best couples 💙

y/n 🥹💙

alex_albon Did he help you

y/n yes he did, he even cleaned up after

logansargeant thank you for the support Alex

alex_albon Of course mate

lilymhe WE NEED TO DO A DOUBLE DATE

y/n YES YES YES YES!!!!!!

lilymhe I love you 🫶🫶

y/n I love you more 🫶

oscarpiastri Why didn’t you put in the picture of him CHUCKING a snowball at you

y/n he made it up to me (he threatened me)

logansargeant I got her cookies!!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

radio 🪩: Loved this Logan Christmas fic! Probably one of my favorites. I should have one more out for a different driver! 💙

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alpaca-clouds · 8 months

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Olrox's Trauma and Motivation

I think most of us do agree that Olrox is really the most interesting character we got out of Nocturne, right?

So, let me talk a bit about what is going on with him a bit.

I think most people got the detail that his core motivation clearly is to just not have another even worse colonialism happen to his homelands. But I also have seen a lot of people wonder why he is not more active within the plot. He is playing both sides and seems very held back in actually joining the fight.

And I think what drives him - and what is going to drive his character arc - is the conflict between him being self-preserving and him wanting to fight for the right thing.

I talked already about his historical context. But the tl;dr is very much: He saw a genocide of his people. Sure, some survived. The culture did not die out entirely. But there were still so many who died. And so much cultural heritage destroyed. And he was there and saw it happen. He probably also saw their own warriors fight against the Spaniads and loose.

We do not really know much about what he did for the following about 200 years. Again, there is a good chance he drank the blood of Quetzalcoatl, but in what context? And what did he do after it?

Something that he keeps iterating is his lack of belief. And I do not think that this is just a lack of belief in religion of any sort. But also a lack of belief into some ideal or greater goal. Which, I think, is also why he is drawn to idealists who have that belief.

So far we do not know much about the dead Mohican lover he had, but we do know that he was also an idealist who believed in the cause of the American Independence. And he "almost" started to believe in it, too. (Of course, even without Julia killing that lover, the Mohicans were forced off their lands just a couple years later - prior to the 1792 setting of the main story.)

I also think that we can read something into the fact that before that lover he did not have anyone. I think there are two possible readings of this. Either he is lying to himself and actually did love other people. Or he actually kept away from other people a lot, not getting himself involved with anyone. (And also, I would argue he probably is demiromantic.)

Because of course there is the fact that he clearly is lying to himself about how much he cares about Mizrak. As seen by that last scene. He just does not want to admit it, because he has been hurt before. He has loved and has lost that love.

He is attracted to Mizrak, because Mizrak is the idealist, the guy with believes in a greater cause, someone who is willing to if need be die for these ideas. But of course he cannot admit that. Because in that case if Mizrak went to die... Well, it would hurt again. But his need for someone like that is so deep that... I mean, how much time passes in that first season? A week, maybe. Ten days? Not much. And still, he cannot have him dying.

And I think Olrox's entire character arc will be about him finding that belief in a cause, in something greater than himself.

It would not surprise me if was the one to kill Erzsebet in the end, because it would be a fitting end to what they have set up for his arc.

#castlevania #castlevania netflix #castlevania nocturne #castlevania nocturne spoilers #analysis #castlevania olrox #castlevania mizrak

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bluntblade · 1 month

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Realised that this never posted, but I stand by it:

It's really weird that Rogue One's aesthetic, which was specifically developed for a Star Wars film which had minimal space wizards and was instead about much more subdued characters and murkier moral themes, has now become the aesthetic which gets slathered over all new live-action Star Wars whether it fits or not.

Mando mostly works with that look because while there are some big personalities, they're almost all side characters, while the mains are stoic and reserved except for Grogu. Andor looks downright great, not least as much of it is shot on actual locations and on full sets.

But apply this to Ahsoka and Kenobi, and it rather cuts against the vibe they're going for. Space wizards, with their operatic cosmic conflicts and connection to a mystic energy, tend to want something a bit more heightened (which I think is an under-discussed problem in the PT which is very muted much of the time, and a major strength in the more stylised Empire and TLJ). The colours are muted, the angles mostly flat, and it ends up being at odds with the story being told.

To extend Kenobi some goodwill, lots of the latter seems to have come from the Volume. You keep seeing where the cinematographer wanted to crank a shot of Vader to be sharper and more impactful, but couldn't because the Volume doesn't permit that. Although I do think there are some baffling bits of blocking like in the chase and the first duel, the floaty shaky-cam is a generally poor look and really, Lucasfilm shouldn't lean so hard on the Volume (I mean, seriously guys, look at Monarch. That looks miles better than anything you've done on TV except for Andor.) But point is, they tried and ran into constraints.

Meanwhile Ahsoka seems exceedingly comfortable with both feet in Gordon Willis' metaphorical bucket of cement. The characters' energy levels are tamped way down from Rebels to match the muted presentation, and things often feel low-energy even just within the context of these shows. Even when the show steps into the World Between Worlds, an explicitly supernatural plane (or goes into Ahsoka's coma dream) there's no real change in look. Contrast the way that Empire employs that low shutter speed in the dark cave, while TLJ steps into something surreal complete with voiceover and an impossible CG camera move. In Ahsoka, though, there's little attempt to make the place feel otherworldly beyond how the scenery looks.

And these are largely missing a vital part of Rogue One's look, which is scale. Both Gareth Edwards and cinematographer Greig Fraser are great at portraying large-scale things in interesting ways, and that's something which will tend to get lost with a move to the small screen and the massive use of the Volume, without shots from locations or physical sets to balance it out and make spaces feel more real.

#Ahsoka critical #Rogue One #blunt blathers #Ahsoka show

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project-sekai-facts · 3 months

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out of curiosity, which parts/episodes have the bad localizationing for phoenix? I'm probably going to read the official translation on sekai.best since I don't like using youtube and i wanna know what to expect

here's my main issues with it in brief for now, but i'll probably do a longer post on the topic of ensekai's translations later

Rui: I guess this is what you want to do

first off from chapter 7, rui's observation of Tsukasa's breakdown. this is just weirdly casual and honestly ooc for Rui. as a director, he's observant, and he's trying to understand what tsukasa's going through and what he's trying to do. The fan translation i linked puts this as "As I thought, this is what you're going for", which is far better.

Rui: We should let Tsukasa be right now...

also from chapter 7 literally 4 lines later. while at first this might not seem that bad, and is fitting with the context, i much prefer the fan TL version which puts this as "This is something that Tsukasa needs". Like do you get how much the word "needs" changes this. "We should let him be" is kinda broad all things considered. Like it could mean he needs it, but it could also mean that someone on tiktok or twitter will probably misinterpret it as wandasho not knowing what to do or some other angsty thing like them not being good friends i dunno

Tsukasa: It's because "I" am not strong enough...

Now this. This is a good line. Note the quotations around I. This is very important to Tsukasa's arc in this event of understanding the role of Rio and improving his acting. Note that here, the pronoun used is boku, when Tsukasa uses ore. Boku, or "I" here, refers to Rio, as in, Tsukasa is thinking as Rio. EN drops the quotations completely and translates it flatly as "because i'm powerless". He refers to himself in first person while thinking as Rio for the rest of the scene on EN though, so hopefully there won't be too many misinterpretations (but. you probably know what I'm vagueing about). Pronouns aren't used as frequently in japanese as in english so this is actually the first time he uses boku in this scene, hence the quotes. This is more nitpicky it's just something I thought was pretty cool.

Rui: Did you see that phoenix you were talking about?

one last Rui quote (rui im sorry ensekai can't translate you well). wow 3 out of four quotes here are rui in chapter 7 damn. anyway. the fan translation of this is "Have you finally found your Phoenix" which is SO much better with the context of the rest of the story. tsukasa decides that he needs to "find his phoenix" in order to nail the role, and this is correctly translated aside from this one line, which is arguably one of the most important uses of it. it's not just any phoenix, it's tsukasa's. his personal one, like a resolve of sorts. once again they made rui far too casual and he doesn't sound right.

yeah as i said i'll do something better another time, but he's my main nitpicks and complaints.

#asks #mod talks

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mimble-sparklepudding · 1 year

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Little OC Creation Ask List

I am trying to help a friend with their creative block around creating a FFXIV OC. So I thought I might try putting together a quick Ask List on the topic and maybe they would find people's responses helpful. Also it might be interesting to learn about how people approach the creative process!

How did you decide on the sex and/or gender of your OC? Was it important that it was the same as yours? Or the same as what you personally find attractive? Or did it not make much difference either way?

To what degree is your OC a self-insert? Are they in any way an aspirational version of yourself? Or perhaps a way to explore feelings and behaviours you suppress in yourself?

Is it important to you that you "like" your OC (as in consider them likeable)? Or is it more important to create a distinctive character, even if they are unpleasant or evil?

Do what degree did you intend your OC to be canon-compliant? Did you end up sticking to this or did you veer off into unforeseen territory over time?

How important is it to you that your OC is attractive? Does that mean attractive to you personally (sexually or just for purposes of playing dress-up!)? Or do you aim to make an OC over which others will inevitably thirst?

To what degree do you use the OC creation process as a way of exploring your own strengths and flaws?

Is your OC based upon another character or person? Or aspects of several? Is this just in terms of their appearance? Or also their personality?

Do you create the OC first and then the backstory? Or do you have a backstory lined up and then create an OC that will fit this?

Have you ever retconned your OC's story or situation? What inspired this? Did you just fancy a change? Or were you bored with them as they were? Or did you regret your decisions on first creating them?

To what extent does your OC function as a mouthpiece for your own views when it comes to describing their opinions or reactions? Do you quite like exploring how someone with very different values to your own might respond to a situation?

What is your main focus when creating an OC - making a character for yourself and your own enjoyment? Or do you try to create a character that will be popular with others or attract a lot of attention?

How much importance do you attach to humour when creating a character? Are there inevitably comic elements? Or are you more focused upon angst or drama?

Does your OC need to be believable (within the context of the fictional world in which you place them)? Or are you more interested in pushing the boundaries of what you can invent?

How do you want other people to view or react to your OC?

Is there anything you regret about how you designed your OC or their backstory?

Do you have the same OC (broadly speaking) across multiple fandoms or settings?

Did you design your OC with a specific aspect of RP in mind? Such as shipping, NSFW things, attending in-game social events, hosting events or entertaining others?

Has anyone ever reacted badly to your OC? Why was this?

Do you want other people to become invested in your OC? What would this look like ideally?

Is it important to ensure your OC has flaws or negative traits? Or do you try to make an idealised character as far as possible?

Do you want or enjoy your OC having in-game interactions with other people's characters? Or do you prefer to keep things more distant (like Ask Games on Tumblr!)? Or is your OC private and just for you?

How do you feel about others making art of your OC or writing about them? Do you feel like you need to vet their creative process? Or does anything go?

Was there a location in-game that inspired your OC (like Ishgard or Hingashi etc.)?

Was there something in the MSQ or even a side-questline, that inspired you to create them? Perhaps meeting the Sylphs or the Namazu? Or visiting the Unsundered World? Or even something to do with crafting or gathering?

To what extent does their appearance in game match your vision of them creatively? Are there things you wish you could change about them in this regard? Or possibly do, if you knew of a way to do so...

Do you have a voice claim for your OC? Did you have this before you did anything else? Or did you decide on it later?

Which OCs that are not yours do you most admire? What is it about that character that you find impressive or engaging?

To what extent have other people's OC influenced your own? Perhaps in the sense of inspiring your ideas? Or giving you "permission" to create a character you might not otherwise have done? Perhaps a lore-breaking one, or an overtly sexy one, or a self-insert, or a villainous one etc?

What do you try to avoid when creating an OC? Are these things you dislike in other people's OCs? Or purely your own personal preference?

What is your favourite thing about your OC or OCs? Is there something about them of which you are particularly proud?

To what extent does it matter that you are being "original" when you create an OC? Or is it OK to base them on an existing character or celebrity, so long as you enjoy it?

If you're stuck for ideas when creating an OC, what do you do to inspire yourself? (if you never have this problem, then what would you advise to someone that did!)

Is there an OC you would love to create in-game, but currently you are unable to do so, perhaps because that race is not playable or that sex is unavailable (hello female Hrothgar)?

How many OCs do you currently have? If you have multiple OCs then how different are they from each other? How often do you create new ones?

What things do you most want to see in someone's OC? Or what do you always find the most interesting? Or stimulating, if you're in that sort of mood?

#ffxiv oc #ffxiv ask game #oc creation #helping a friend #creative process #ffxiv wol #ffxiv character creation #ffxiv #ff14 ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #final fantasy 14

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sinsandsuccubus · 1 year

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Pregnancy Cravings - Meet The Harlow’s

Context: Peanut butter chicken?

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 700+

Warnings: n/a

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

☽ ☾

You hated being pregnant.

Hated it.

You felt like a blimp, considering your size and how far along you were. You were roughly between six to seven months, and at this point, you really wished that the little thing would just come on out.

Maybe a premature baby was okay.

Not only did the pregnancy come with a size change, but a clothing change. No longer were you able to fit into the crop tops and items you usually wore around your shared home with Jack. As much as you wanted to wear your old clothing, Jack made it a good point that by wearing them, you’d stretch out the material, which would ultimately ruin your wardrobe once returning back to your “normal” size.

At least you hoped that’s what would happen.

Pregnancy weight was not a good look on you, in your personal opinion, although Jack found you hella attractive.

“Mamas, you look good, I swear. As a matter of fact, I take that back, you look sexy. Do I have to dick you down to prove it?”

Needless to say, Jack kept his word.

Another thing about your pregnancy that made you raise a question was your cravings.

Sure, you had heard the many stories about the different combinations, peanut butter and pickles, boiled eggs with horseradish, but peanut butter chicken?

Peanut butter chicken. The same food combination you shamed Jack for when you both started dating and he was comfortable around you.

“Come on babe, don’t knock it til you try it, it’s really good.”

“Jack, that’s utterly disgusting. I could never eat that.”

Oh, how the turn tables.

You and Jack were currently laying in bed, your head laying on his chest while he drew patterns over your pregnant belly.

“What do you want to eat mamas? It’s almost lunchtime.”

“I don’t know baby. Nothing sounds good right now.”

“Chick Fil A?”

“Nope.”

“McDonald's?”

“Not that either.”

“Popeyes?”

“Hell no.”

“That’s not what you said yesterday. You were fuckin up those chicken wings and that dry ass biscuit.”

“Your dick’s gonna be dry if you don’t shut up.” You looked up at your husband whose eyes went wide, making a motion to zipper his mouth shut and throw away the key.

“You know… I actually have a craving for something really weird.” You looked up at Jack again, who’s mouth still mocked being zippered shut.

“Ohmygod, Jack, you can speak.” You smacked his arm, laughing as he gasped for air.

“Phew, I was running out of air.”

“Yeah, you mouth breather.”

“You love me though.” He spoke, kissing you on the forehead.

“I’ll love you even more if you make me peanut butter chicken with veggies please.” You spoke, smiling up at your husband.

“I remember there was a time you thought that was gross. Going as far as to say “That’s utterly disgusting. I could never eat that.”.”

“Yeah yeah, well, now I’m pregnant out the ass. And this pregnant momma wants her peanut butter chicken with veggies.” You gave him a stern look, to which he immediately hopped up from bed and saluted you.

“Yes ma’am.” You laughed as he disappeared out of the room, shaking your head at your goofy husband. You hoped your child would take after him, especially his personality. Just not his big head.

☽ ☾

To say you were hungry was an understatement. As soon as you sat down at the table, you dug into your food, moaning at the satisfaction from your tastebuds. Jack looked at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t you say a damn word.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, you used to shame me about my peanut butter chicken, and now you’re moaning like I just blew your back-“ The words silenced from his mouth as a fork whirled past his head, his eyes turning around to eye the utensil that clattered on the floor.

“What the fuck was that?!”

“It got you to shut up, didn’t it? Now, please get me another one so I can finish this delicious meal my beautiful husband cooked for me, whose dick I’ll be sucking later.” You spoke firmly, staring directly into Jack’s eyes.

He got up immediately, moving to pick up the fork from the floor and place it in the sink, grabbing a clean utensil from the drawer.

“If I had known that my peanut butter chicken would take you this far, I would have made it a long time ago for you.”

“Yeah yeah, don’t get your hopes up. I’ll probably hate it after giving birth.”

“Dang it.”

#jack harlow x reader #jack harlow #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow fic #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow scenario #jack harlow fanfiction #meet the harlows

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francisballerhide · 5 days

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An older viewer's perspective on I Saw The TV Glow

(content warning: discussion of spoilers, depression and suicidal themes.)

x-posted from the subreddit of the same name.

I am a queer, non-gender conforming (back in the day we said "genderqueer") person in their late 40s. I saw this the day before yesterday. I'm about five years or so older than the main characters (Owen and Maddy.) The equivalents to "The Pink Opaque" for my friend group that were on TV when we were the same age as the characters were Liquid TV and/or the 1992-era X Men cartoon (so as you can imagine, I've been ecstatic about the X Men 97 revival.) We were also obsessed with the film The Adventures Of Buckaroo Banzai: Across The Eighth Dimension.

I liked Buffy, but I was already in my 20s when it was airing.

And woah, this movie is very powerful and made me feel all sorts of things.

Like Maddy, I experienced a "break from reality" in my 20s. And I was deadset on finding someone to go on that "break" with me, to experience a folie à deux with, I guess. To help me validate that the imaginary world I was living in was "the real world," and the outside world where I was expected to "get a job and be a productive member of society" was fake.

I know in the context of the film, it's supposed to be implied that Maddy's story is true. She is really Tara, and Owen is really Isabel. But as someone who has been through something very much like Maddy describes (apart from the "being buried alive" part) it was difficult for me not to see Maddy as someone who did exactly what I did - who rejected reality as it is, and tried to check out from it completely.

But also, it's easy to see what Maddy ended up doing as a metaphor for attempted suicide - and that she might have been trying to talk Owen into going along with her on a second attempt, together, when the first attempt failed. And this may have been how Owen saw it, when he rejected it.

Because for me, adulthood felt the same way. You get a job. You try and fit in, or at least fly under the radar. It's not what you want to do - but society is constantly telling you, pressuring you, hassling you, that it's what you should be doing, what you need to do. Maybe you meet someone and settle down, maybe you don't. Maybe you have kids, and maybe you don't.

But one year passes, and then another. And then five years. And then a decade. And then three decades have gone by. And you don't feel it. It's just like skipping forward to the next scene on a DVD. And then you're old, and wondering where your life has gone. You haven't been living your real life.

And the thoughts running through your mind go: "This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. This wasn't supposed to be my life. What happened to my life?"

And as someone with left-of-center politics and a not-always stable mental state, I think: "how much of this is down to reality being screwed up, how much of this is down to us living in a "Black Iron Prison"-style reality construct; and how much of this can be blamed on "late stage" or "end stage" capitalism, which never allows people who exist outside of a certain tax bracket to self-actualize at all?

What if it is "just the suburbs?"

The answer is to try and live your truth and be your authentic self, no matter what is going on in the world outside of that - no matter how difficult the world makes it. But not everyone is strong enough, or has the psychological tools to find their way to that.

I think I need to go back and watch this film again.

I also would like to recommend Matrix Resurrections to anyone who was bummed out by the end of I Saw The TV Glow, for what happens when the person who has been insisting "that beautiful, powerful person can't be me" suddenly decides to be that, anyway.

#i saw the tv glow #transgender #film #lgbtiq

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

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Deuce, Malleus: My Dream, to Defend

I now read everything Malleus says as extremely ominous and foreboding (knowing the context of book 7) 👨 THEY’RE ALL RED FLAGS 🚩, YOUR HONOR *proceeds to perpetuate the red flags by giving Malleus reasonably optimistic but also ominous-in-the-right-context dialogue*

Also??? Why are Ace and Deuce's faces on their birthday cards so similar 😂 They kinda match, even their Groovies (they kind of look like they're racing each other!)… cute

A Boy in Bloom, and his Flowering Future.

“What makes you glad you can use magic?”

Malleus paused, pondering the question. “What an odd inquiry.”

“For Malleus-senpai, yeah. You use magic for almost everything! It must be hard to just pick one thing about it that makes you go, 'I'm thankful for this!'. But for me…” Deuce tilted his head back, looking up to the structure that loomed over them.

It was the main building of the campus, housing numerous classrooms and offices. Regal and imposing, with several turreted towers and balconies, it was less an academic institution and more like a castle. A castle where dreams and wishes came true. Among them, his--if he worked hard enough.

"I'm happy that I got into Night Raven College," he said earnestly. "I never thought I had the magic potential to make it to a place like this, but here I am... standing at the steps."

Malleus's mouth curled. "What a surprise. Many of the students I've encountered here are the self-assured types. If I may ask... Why is it that you did not believe yourself worthy to stand among us here?"

"Long story short, I was kind of a delinquent back then. I'd use my magic to get up to no good. Y'know, laying the smackdown on anyone that talked shit or looked at me the wrong way."

"... 'Lay the smackdown'? 'Talked shit'? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with such colloquialisms."

"Er, it sounds really wrong hearing those words come from you... Basically, it means 'fighting' and, 'when people say bad things about you'. Got it?"

"I understand. Perhaps I will take care to incorporate such terms into my vocabulary. It may even make me appear more approachable to others."

"AHHHH!!!" Deuce startled, frantically waving his hands to silence his interviewer. "M-Maybe that's not such a good idea!! I think Sebek'd tackle me to the ground and kill me on the spot for teaching you bad words..."

"Fufufu, I jest."

"A-Are you really...?"

"Of course. Please, continue sharing your story." Malleus gestured for him to proceed. "Pray tell, why is it that you became entangled in such affairs?"

"Lots of stuff," Deuce said vaguely. "Mostly because I stood out. Didn't really fit in. It was easier to take out my frustrations on others than to work on myself.

"When my magic came to me, it was helpful to have in fights. It would drive some people off, and they'd leave me alone. They were scared of getting crushed again by a cauldron."

"Scared, you say... Hmm." Malleus looked pensive. "I see. So there are cases where non-mages feel threatened by the existence of mages."

"Huh?!" Deuce stared at him, eyes bulging. "That never occurred to you before, senpai?!"

"Magic comes naturally to me. It is capable of blessings and miracles. I cannot imagine why anyone would fear it."

"Well, I think it's because magic can do good things, but it can also do bad things.”

“Good and bad…” Malleus’s brows crinkled as the considered the thought, a finger to his chin.

Deuce’s stomach dropped at the sight. “Did I speak out of turn?! Y-You don’t have to listen to what I said if you don’t want to, senpai! Forget me, wh-what do I know anyway?!”

“… No, not at all. I was just thinking about your words. It reminds me of something my grandmother told me.”

“Eh, your grandma? Y-You don’t mean the queen of Briar Valley? I… reminded you of her?” Deuce squealed, afraid to speak her name.

“Yes, she.” Malleus’s eyes darkened, resembling a storm right before lightning struck. “Grandmother says that we Draconias were gifted with great powers—and with it, great responsibility to our people and their smiles. It is with this power that we are able to protect our country.

“Is it not similar for magic in general? The wielder is the one who determines whether one’s magic is used for ‘good’ or for ‘bad’ means. In which case… it is up to each of us to use what we have for ‘good’.”

“Draconia-senpai…!!” Deuce clutched a fist to his heart. A smile was at his lips, his eyes shining. “You get me!! I… I want to use my magic for things like that! To defend my friends and my family…!!”

“That is the way.” Malleus smirked, relishing in the newfound fire in his junior’s eyes. “The power to protect those you love is within your own hands. All you must do is shape it, guide it… and make that dream come true, regardless of the obstacles that may cross your path.”

“I’ll do my best!! If there’s one thing I know I’m good at, it’s being stubborn!”

“That kind of persistence is unique to you.” Malleus showed his teeth. “Take pride in that, Spade.”

"You bet I will!!"

"... Incidentally, how do you fare in Defense Magic?"

"Urk!!" The birthday boy visibly deflated--an indication of his answer. "N-Not the best... I studied as much as I could, but still barely passed my last exam. But don't worry about me, Draconia-senpai!!"

Deuce pointed at his temple. "I'll train my brain even more so I can get at least a C next time!!"

A C... so he means to say that he earned a D on his previous exam.

A low laugh rumbled out of Malleus. “How truly tenacious of you, Spade. I wish you the best of luck on that journey.”

He lifted a hand, fingers curling around the milky orb floating in the sky. The wind rustled upon his command, ushering in a cool breeze that chased off the bleating heat of summer.

“The birthday road, and your future, awaits.”

“Yes!! I’m on my way!!” Deuce eagerly mounted his broom. His knees were tucked together tightly, stiffly securing the handle.

“Ah, and Spade. One more thing.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“When the times comes,” Malleus said with an easy smile, “you are free to defend yourself against my magic.”

Deuce nearly fell off of his broom at the suggestion. “Whaaat?! There’s no way I’d be able to hold up against your magic…! I’ll be just a pile of ashes by the time you’re done with…”

He caught himself and stopped. A deep breath taken, and then he set his jaw. The peacock green of his eyes had dimmed into a shade more serious.

“… No. I… I just told you that I wanted to be the kind of guy who’s capable of defending the people he loves. That means no running away, even if I’m scared, even if I know I might not win! That’s my promise to myself.”

“Fufu, that’s what I like to hear. I will be expecting you sometime then.”

Deuce gulped. “Got it! I’ll face your challenge and my future… head-on!!”

FwooooOOOSH!!

A steady wind kicked up, starting small and growing into a powerful gale. Deuce yelped as his broom bucked forward, inching above the ground on only a few startled sparkles. He looked back in horror, only to find Malleus chuckling into a hand.

Had that been a magical push?

“Heh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?” A wicked glint had surfaced in Deuce, from the eyes to his grin. “I’ll show you just how I ride…!”

Gripping the handle tightly, he leaned forward, bracing himself for a familiar rush. Height wasn’t his goal, but speed.

The world stilled. His senses sharpened, his thoughts growing louder, more insistent.

Imagine a magical wheel. Think of becoming one with the wind. So fast that you’re not yourself anymore.

He blasted off, a tornado of swirling blue petals left where he had once been. Flitting down lazily, drunken on the moonlight, they were the mark of a speed demon reborn.

The past, far behind him.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #Deuce Spade #Deuce birthday takeover #something no one asked for #spoilers #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios

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