#i rambled because the more i thought about it the more i realized how broad the concept of silence is lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

javierpena-inatacvest · 7 months

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Take Me Home

Summary: After a night out at the bar with your co-workers after a long week at school, Javi picks you up and takes you home

Word Count: 3.2K

Pairing: husband!Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: Alcohol/drinking (girl, you're plastered), allusions to smut, being a drunk, horny mess, mentions of food/eating, being hungover, Javi taking care of you, the Backstreet Boys (?!), just sweet, sweet fluff 😩

A/N: This was inspired by an ask from a sweet anon!! This made me giggle the whole time I was writing it, drunk Osita is my favorite 🤪 You know Javi would absolutely get a kick out of your drunken antics and would take such good care of you and your terrible hangover. Also who doesn't love a drunk Pop-Tart?!

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

If there was one thing you knew, it was that the first few weeks of school were never easy. You were tired, stressed, and feeling like you were running on empty. You were hesitant when some of your new coworkers had suggested all of you head to the bar for Happy Hour on Friday after work, knowing damn well you’d be absolutely exhausted. But after the week you’d had, getting drunk with your teacher friends and commiserating about the chaos that was each of your classrooms couldn’t have sounded like a better way to cap off the craziness that had been the past 5 days.

You had offered to ask one of your friends for a ride to the bar so Javi could enjoy his Friday night without having to worry about you, but Javi being Javi, had more than happily dropped you off with your friends, and planned to pick you up around 11:30, giving you what you thought was more than enough time to enjoy a few drinks and de-stress with your co-workers.

4 margaritas and 2 surprise shots of tequila later, it was safe to say the state you were in was a little more than just de-stressed.

With how much you had to drink, you had found yourself paying absolutely zero attention to any clock, and had completely forgotten that you told Javi you would meet him by the front doors when he came to pick you up. Javi had a sneaking suspicion when he pulled up to the parking lot and you were nowhere to be found, that you were probably having a much better time at the bar, and were a few drinks deeper than you intended. Well, Javi wasn’t wrong to assume that you had downed more than just a couple drinks, but what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be absolutely hammered.

Walking through the door, Javi couldn’t help but smile as he saw your familiar frame leaned against the ledge of the edge of the bar, gently rocking your head and swaying your hips to the muffled music playing under the chatter of the bar patrons. You must have been very focused on ordering whatever it was you wanted from the bartender, because you had been seemingly oblivious to Javi’s presence behind you. He firmly placed his broad hand on the small of your back, pressing his fingertips into your hips, making you immediately whip your head around in concern.

“Woah, woah, woah, don’t you dare fucking touch me, I am happily married and will glad beat the shit out of- AH! JAVI!” Your demeanor quickly shifted from a woman ready to throw down in a fist fight, to absolutely ecstatic, realizing the hand resting on your back belonged to your husband. Setting your drink down, you threw your arms around his neck, wrapping him in a tight hug, pressing your face against the soft fabric of his button down shirt. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you, I thought you were some creep trying to grab my ass. But you’re not a creep, you’re my hot husband, and you can grab my ass all you want. What time is it? You smell really good.” From your giggles and rambling, Javi could tell you’d had more than your fair share to drink, trying to gently put down the glass you had picked up to take a sip from back down on the bar.

“Hi, Hermosa. I’m coming to pick you up, remember? Maybe let’s get you a water instead of finishing the rest of this, okay?” Javi smiled, passing your cup off to the bartender, and exchanging it for a new glass filled with water. Handing it off to you, your face scrunched in confusion as you took a long swing.

“This isn’t a margarita?” You questioned, handing it back to Javi, thinking that he had clearly made a mistake in ordering for you. Laughing, Javi nodded, trying to hand the water back to you.

“I know, Osita. It’s water, baby. Have a few sips and then I’m gonna take you home, alright?”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you gave him a little smirk before obliging, taking a few gulps of the water and setting it back down, crossing your arms against your chest. “Did you say you’re trying to take me home, Javier Peña?”

“Yes, I’m taking you home, you dork.” Javi laughed to himself, shaking his head as he picked up your coat and your purse from the back of the chair you had been perched next to. “Why don’t you go say goodbye to everyone and make sure no one else needs a ride home, okay?” You nodded, speeding off into the dwindling late night crowd, quickly finding your friends, hugging them and then pointing over at Javi, biting down on your lip, as the rest of them giggled, waving at him as he politely waved back. A few moments later, you found Javi again, stumbling through the bar, grabbing a fist full of his button up shirt, pressing up on your tiptoes to give him a long, tender kiss.

“Take me home, baby.”

After your 3rd trip to the bar bathroom and your self pep-talk in the mirror earlier, you knew you were drunk, but you hadn’t realized just how drunk you were until you found yourself trying to crawl your way into Javi’s truck, the passenger’s seat seeming much higher up than usual as you took several missed steps trying to hoist yourself into the car.

“You want help, hermosa?” Javi tried to keep his best from laughing as he watched you struggle.

“....Maybe. Jav, I think I’m actually really drunk. Or the seat got higher. I think it would be less embarrassing if the truck grew. Or maybe I shrunk… Drunk and shrunk, those rhyme, Jav!” You sighed, placing your hands on your hips, looking up at Javi’s car in frustration.

“I think you and the truck are both the same size, baby. Here… 1, 2, 3.” He smiled, grabbing you around your hips, lifting you into your seat, reaching over to click your seatbelt in before making his way to the driver’s side, strapping himself in and starting up the car. As Javi pulled out of the parking lot, you reached down to turn up the volume on the radio, turning it up even louder when you heard it was “Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)” by the Backstreet Boys. Even in your plastered state, you knew how much Javi despised this song, claiming he’d heard it enough times to last him a thousand lifetimes. You, on the other hand, thought it was catchy as hell, even more so now that you were drunk.

“I don’t understand how you don’t like this song! You yelled over the music, dancing in your seat, singing along to the lyrics.

“Am I original?”

You pointed at Javi, waiting for him to sing along to the “yeah’s”, frowning when all he did was laugh at you,

“Am I the only one?”

You pointed at him again, this time getting a half assed “yeah” out of him as you poked at his shoulder.

“Am I sexual?”

You outstretched your arm towards him, raising an eyebrow and biting down on your lip as you smirked, watching Javi reluctantly sing along to the last “yeah”, shaking his head, laughing at you.

“Am I everything you need, you better rock your body now- EVERYBODYYYYYY!” You screamed, pumping your fist in the air, pretending to sing into your imaginary microphone, Javi trying to keep from bursting into hysterics from your over dramatic performance. You paused mid chorus, looking over to see him lovingly laughing at you, making you give him your most sarcastic stank face. “Are you laughing at me, Javier Jesús Peña? Are you not enjoying your concert?”

“Osita,” He grinned, reaching down to grab your hand, intertwining your fingers with his, “there’s nothing I love more than watching you sing along to whatever song it is while we drive. It’s my favorite thing. Even if you’re fucking ridiculous sometimes.”

“Nuh uh, you’re the ridiculous one, Jav. Ridiculously fucking hot. Do you like, ever look in the mirror and just admire how attractive you are? All the girls at work think so, too. They told me when I was leaving tonight that I was a lucky lady and you know what I told them? Bitch, absolutely I am. My husband is so fucking hot and sweet and perfect and to top it all off, he’s got a huge dick. Wait, maybe I didn’t say that last part to them… If I did, I’m sorry. But I’m not sorry, ‘cause it’s true.” Javi practically choked on his own spit, his quiet laughter to himself halted by your last comment.

“Well, you’re very sweet, Osita. I hope for everyone’s sake you spared them the last part.” Javi laughed, giving your hand a little squeeze as you rested your head on his shoulder across the center console.

“I’m being serious, Javi! It really isn’t fair to everyone else how fucking handsome you are. Or that like, you’re fucking sex god. Can we have sex when we get home? Please please please?” You begged, trying to give him your best drunken puppy dog eyes and pouty lip, Javi gently patting your leg knowing you were in absolutely no state to do anything besides get force fed some Gatorade and ibuprofen and go to sleep.

“I think that we need to get you into bed, baby. Maybe tomorrow, okay?”

“Into the bed where we have awesome sex all the time.” You retorted, shooting him a clumsy wink, pointing your finger at him. “Except this morning when we had sex in the bed and the shower. The shower is also a good place for sex. Do you remember when we had sex this morning?” You giggled, rubbing your hand over Javi’s thigh, working your way further up the denim before Javi reached down, placing your hand back in his, pulling it away.

“Yes, Osita, of course I remember. Tonight we’re just gonna get into the bed and sleep.” Javi chuckled, smiling at you with your bright red cheeks, still dancing in your seat to whatever song was playing on the radio as he turned to pull into the driveway of your house.

“Oh my gosh, we’re already home?! That was so fast. Let’s go to bed so we can sleep.” You gave Javi an overexaggerated wink as you parked in the garage, fumbling with the door handle to try and get out of the truck. Wanting to make sure you didn’t topple out of the passenger seat, Javi quickly unbuckled his seat belt, walking around to your side of the car, helping you down. You shot off to the door, fighting with the locked doorknob to try and get it open, instantly turning to panic when you realize it wouldn’t budge. “Jav! Jav! I forgot to bring my keys with me, I think we’re locked out of the house, I’m so- Oh. Nevermind.” Javi came up behind you, dangling his keys before reaching down to unlock the door. You stumbled through the mudroom and down the hallway, your eyes lighting up as you realized you were passing the kitchen. Trying to dart your way towards the pantry, you forgot that you had kicked off your shoes only a few moments earlier, making you slip and stumble on the hardwood floor, promptly landing you right on your ass.

“Jesus Hermosa, are you okay?” Javi rushed over, eyes wide with concern as he watched you tumble, trying to pick you up from the hysterical heap you had fallen into.

“I forgot I had socks on and I slipped. I’m such a fucking idiot, oh my god, that had to have looked so funny. My butt is gonna hurt tomorrow.” You cackled, hoisting your body up as Javi pulled you to stand, holding his hands firm on your hips, making sure you were stable.

“Alright, c’mon Osita, we’re almost to bed.”

“Wait, wait, I want Pop-Tart though! That’s why I was running to the kitchen!” You protested, Javi grabbing you to stop you before you tried to run full force down the hallway and slip again.

“I will get you a Pop-Tart, you just get yourself into bed, okay? I’ll be there in a second.” Javi pleaded with you, trying to direct you back down the hallway towards the bedroom, hoping you would go and he wouldn’t have to wrangle you any further.

“You promise?” You frowned, poking Javi’s chest, standing your ground until you were positive you were getting a Pop-Tart before you fell asleep. Javi leaned down, planting a soft kiss in your hair, brushing a stray piece away from your face, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Yes, I promise.”

That was all it took to have you dancing down the hallway towards the bedroom, back to singing to yourself with each step.

“Everyboddyyyyy, rock your booooddyyy. Rock your body right. Back Street’s back, alright!”

Finally seeing you had made your way into your room, Javi made his way to the kitchen, shuffling through the pantry to grab a shiny silver Pop-Tart wrapper, a red Gatorade and a bottle of Advil from the medicine cabinet before quickly heading back down the hall, your singing now muffled as Javi found you laying face down in the bed, still fully clothed. Javi wasn’t going to let you fall asleep in jeans and a sweater, so he carefully flipped you over, making you giggle as he began to unbutton your pants, shuffling them down your legs.

“I thought you said we weren’t having sex tonight, so why are you undressing me, hmmm?” You sassed, wiggling your bottom half to help Javi get your jeans off before he grabbed your arms, pulling you up to sit and prompting you to lift up your arms, stripping you of your top. “Are you trying to look at my boobs? I want a piece of Pop-Tart before you get a free show.”

“I’m just trying to get you in pajamas, baby. I’m not gonna let you fall asleep in what you wore to the bar. How about this, if you can get yourself in some pajamas, I’ll give you your Pop-Tart.” Javi chuckled, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous compromise he was finding himself making with his drunken wife.

“You strike a hard bargain, Mr. Peña. Fine, I will put on pajamas. Only because I love you very, very, very, very, very much. And I really want that Pop-Tart.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as Javi threw you one of his t-shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, haphazardly trying to wrestle them onto your body before flopping back down on the bed. “Okay, they’re on! Pop-Tart me, bitch.”

“Did you just say Pop-Tart me, bitch?” Javi snorted, looking at you, sprawled out like a starfish, his shirt draped over your body backwards.

“Pop-Tart me, bitch. Please.” You replied, smugly nodding your head, pointing finger guns at him.

“You’re lucky you’re cute. I’m gonna go close up the house and then I’ll be back in bed. I love you, Osita.” Javi grinned, planting a kiss on your forehead, gently brushing your hair out of your face.

“I love you too, Javi. My Pop-Tart and my pussy are both ready for you when you get back.” You giggled, reaching over to grab the shiny, silver snack package Javi had left for you on your nightstand, now grabbing it like a microphone as you sang into it. “Back Street’s back, alrightttttt!”

“Jesus Christ…” Javi laughed, shaking his head as he gave you one last kiss before making his way back out of the bedroom, leaving you happily humming as you nibbled on the corner of your Pop-Tart, propped up on your stack of pillows. It didn’t take long for Javi to close up around the house, making sure to grab an extra package of Pop-Tarts and a big glass of water from the kitchen on his way back. “How’s the Pop-Tart, Osita?” Javi asked, gently closing the door behind him.

Silence.

“Osita?” He asked again, this time turning around to see that your singing and giggles had come to an end as you were passed out cold, sprawled out on top of the covers, Pop-Tart resting on your chest, rising and falling slowly with your soft snores. Javi laughed to himself, carefully taking the Pop-Tart off your chest and lifting you up to tuck you in under the covers, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “Ducles sueños, Osita. Te amo mucho, loca (Sweet dreams, little bear. I love you so much, crazy.)

The next morning, you could hear yourself audibly groan as you turned over in the bed, shielding yourself from the sunlight peeking through the cracks in your curtain, head pounding from the brightness. You rubbed your eyes, squinting as you looked over at your nightstand to see the red letters of your alarm clock reading “10:37 A.M.” and the shiny glare of an opened Pop-Tart package, covered by a blue sticky note. You twisted over, realizing that Javi’s side of the bed was empty, before turning back with a grunt, reaching over to grab the sticky note.

Morning Osita. There’s Advil and Gatorade for you when you wake up. I think you may need it. I’ll have breakfast for you whenever you get up, unless you just want the Pop-Tart.

Love you

-J

Slowly, you hoisted yourself up, grabbing the Gatorade and pills Javi and left for you, popping them in your mouth, followed by a big swig of your drink, running both your hands over your face before letting out a deep sigh and sliding out of bed. You trudged down the hallway, rubbing your hand on your hip to ease the bruising pain you had felt since getting out of bed, greeted by the smell of breakfast in the kitchen, and Javi sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper, sipping on a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” Javi chuckled, peeking over the top of his newspaper as he watched you as you stumbled your way into one of the empty kitchen chairs next to him at the table.

“I feel like shit.” You groaned, propping your elbows up on the table, resting your face in your hands. Javi set down his paper, draping his arm over your back, tracing small circles with his thumb along your still backwards shirt as he planted a soft kiss in your messy, sleepy hair.

“You were pretty drunk last night, Osita. Did you see the note I left for you?” Javi laughed quietly, shaking his head as he continued to rub your back. You turned your head over, looking up at Javi’s sympathetic gaze, scrunching your face as you let out a deep sigh.

“Yes thank you, oh my god, that Gatorade and Advil is gonna save my life. Why the hell was there a Pop-Tart on my nightstand?” You mumbled, reaching over to steal a sip of Javi’s coffee, accidentally letting a little dribble fall down onto your shirt, you were just now realizing it wasn't on right. “Wait, is my shirt backwards? My ass hurts like hell too, what the hell happened last night?”

“Why don’t I get you some breakfast and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Taglist:

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endlessthxxghts · 8 months

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You Better Jump... (1 of 2)

neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈2.5k

Summary: You wake up after a drunk night out to the lock on your door broken. The neighbor who lives in the same apartment complex as you offers to fix it for you.

Warnings: canon divergent (no outbreak) & mentions of Sarah but we don't see or interact with her (AU - she moved out, lives on her own). allusions to further sexual activity between reader and Joel, mainly fluff and flirting and embarrassing interactions that'll give you butterflies, an unhinged best friend (vulgar dialogue from said best friend), cellphone audio connecting elsewhere where other people can hear..., 18+ MDNI. F masturbation in a bathtub, Joel having incredible self control until he doesn't, making out... (I think that's it! As always, let me know if there's anything I missed that should be in here!)

Author's note: I intended for this to be a one shot, but I just know the next part will be pretty long. I still need to write up a few more details for part 2, but it will be posted VERY SOON! For now, please enjoy this. :)

PART 2 HERE (VERY NSFW, 18+ MDNI)!! || MASTERLIST

“Shit, I don’t even know which lock to get,” you mutter to yourself as you stand helplessly in the middle of the aisle.

You went to the bar last night, got a little too drunk for your own good, and when you woke up in the morning, your front door’s lock was broken. You genuinely don’t know how that happened, but you do know that you need to fix it as soon as possible, especially with the fact that you just moved in not too long ago and you live alone.

“Hey there,” a rough Texan drawl says, pulling you out of your thoughts. You look up to see a tall, broad man. Soft, brown eyes, a mustache and some scruff along his jawline. He’s clad in a dark blue t-shirt and some jeans. He’s handsome, and oh god, you’ve been completely gawking at him instead of responding. You finally meet his stare, and his eyes twinkle in delight, like he’s enjoying the attention you’re giving him. “Oh, hi, uh- I’m sorry, just kinda zoned out there for a sec,” you ramble on, trying to save yourself from the embarrassment.

“Oh,” he chuckles, “don’t worry about that.” He smiles, and you’ve never experienced anything more beautiful. “I, uh, couldn’t help but recognize ya, and overhear ya about the locks?” You give a confused look, and he continues, “I think we live in the same apartment complex. You just moved in a few weeks ago, right? I’m Joel.”

You are seriously so confused right now because you are so sure you would never forget if you had a neighbor that looks this handsome. And apparently all your defenses are down right now because you just fucking said that out loud.

You can see Joel’s cheeks and neck flush into a bright red, his hand shooting up to rub the back of his neck and the blush in your face follows. “Holy shit, I did not just fucking say that out loud,” you groan as you bury your hands into your face. You realize you still haven’t introduced your name, so you quickly squeak it out. He tells you it’s nice to meet you followed by your name, and he rambles on, “And I, uh, I’m flattered...you’re, uh, not too bad yourself.” Your head shoots up, and you swear your face cannot get even redder, but somehow it does.

He senses that you can’t handle anymore of this god awful attempt at flirting, so he saves you by continuing his original thought. “Well, what I was tryna say was- I overheard you sayin’ ya didn’t know which lock to choose? I’m pretty handy in the maintenance department, and I’ve helped a few neighbors in our complex with much more complicated than door locks. Maybe I can help ya?” You feel all the stress from your body completely fade away, and you absolutely take advantage of this beautiful man offering to help with your locks.

“Oh my god, really? I owe you one, thank you so so much,” you tell him. He smiles. “It’s no trouble at all, darlin,’” he says as he grabs the correct lock for the apartment complex, “this is the one we’d need.”

All you came here for was for the lock, but you ended up staying with him and having conversation throughout his entire Home Depot run. Turns out he’s a contractor, used to live in a home but since his daughter moved out he doesn’t find the necessity of having a big home for himself. He didn’t sell it though, he let his brother and his wife take it over. Very minimalist kind of guy.

You forget you two didn’t drive to the store together, so you’re almost kind of bummed at the fact that you have to separate from him. He bids you goodbye and says he has to run a few more errands. “Shouldn’t be more than an hour or two. Is it okay if I swing by your place then?”

You’ve been so entranced by his presence and your guys’ conversation that you forgot the entire reasoning behind why you began talking in the first place, and it’s heavily evident in your confused look. His lip quirks up again, “…to fix your door lock,” he adds, amused.

You mentally slap your forehead. Fucking get it together, you think to yourself. “Yes,” you immediately blabber out as soon as you realize you’ve gone quiet again. “Yes, that’s perfect.”

“Alright, darlin’, I’ll see you in a few,” he says as he shoots you a wink and begins walking in the direction of his truck, and there goes that nickname again.

Oh, you are absolutely fucked.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s a ten minute drive back home, and as soon as you get back in the car, you call your best friend and tell her what an absolute fool you made out of yourself.

“BITCH,” she screams, gasping for air at how hard she’s laughing, “I can’t fucking stand you, oh my god, I’m crying.”

“You’re such a bitch,” you tell her, while tears are also streaming down your face, attempting to catch your breath. “Dude, I swear, once you get a good look at him, you’ll see what the fuck I’m talking about, and you’ll see my reaction was VALID to such a beautiful looking man.”

She stays on the phone with you for the rest of your little drive, and ends your guys’ conversation with, “In all seriousness, though, you better jump on that di-”

You gasp out and yell her name, “OH MY GOD, you’re done. Goodbye.”

She cackles, “Update me later, babe. I love you.”

“I love you more, you fuckin’ menace,” you say as you park.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Your next few hours are filled with you absolutely stressing. You know Joel is just coming to fix the door, but you can’t shake away the nerves. So you spend the first hour absolutely deep cleaning your apartment.

You still have about maybe an hour left, so you decide to try and calm your nerves some more with a quick bath. You quickly undress and give yourself a quick wash in the shower to wash all of today’s dirt before you set up your bath.

Filling up the tub, you throw in some lavender scented bubbles and light your favorite cashmere vanilla candle, the combination of the scents immediately relaxing you. Maybe a little too relaxed, though, because as you sink deeper into the tub, your body can’t help but continue to rise in heat at the thought of Joel. Without thinking, your eyes slowly close and your hand drifts closer to where you’re aching the most.

You start by drawing soft circles on your clit, pulling soft little mewls from your throat. The thought of those big rough hands pushes you to move a little faster, and the thought of that scruff rubbing against your inner thigh pushes you to dip your middle and ring finger into your entrance, pumping in and out with such a need you haven’t experienced in a while. The sounds coming out of you now are high pitched and whiny, and you can’t help the way your body writhes against the bathtub, sloshing water out the sides.

Your hips are grinding up against your palm, stimulating your clit while your fingers hit that velvety spot that drives you absolutely mad. You bring your other hand up to your mouth as a reflex to silence your sounds, but an image flashes in your mind that it was Joel’s hand over your mouth instead, and that’s what ends you.

Your eyes clamp shut, head thrown back, spine completely arched, and all you can see are little white fireworks behind your eyelids as your orgasm breaks you, the lukewarm water feeling hotter than when you first drew the bath.

You sit there for a moment to catch your breath, willing your body to work since the man you just touched yourself to should be here in any minute.

You dry yourself off, putting your hair up in a towel and dressing in some gray sweat-shorts and a tank top, not caring to completely doll your figure since he’s in your home after all. Right as you finish up your skincare, you hear a knock at your door. You take one more look at yourself, and you’re still absolutely flushed with a hint of that orgasmic glow, but you can’t bring yourself to care. If he can make you cum like that with just the thought of him, you’re absolutely gonna take your best friend’s advice from earlier.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You open the door for him and immediately the heat you tried to save yourself from is back, tenfold. “Hey, darlin’,” he says with a smile. The nickname makes the butterflies in your tummy flutter harder than before. You give a sweet smile back. It’s his turn to melt, but you don’t clock it as easily as he can with you.

He steps inside, a little closer to you, and immediately he falls to his knees. You watch him, wide-eyed, as he pulls out a few little tools from his back pocket, and suddenly you realize you were holding your breath. Here he is, wasting no time getting started on fixing your door for you while you stare at him like he’s giving you a strip tease, all because he got down on his knees.

You clear your throat, trying to regain your composure, and you offer, “C-can I get you anything to drink? Water, coffee, tea?”

He looks up at you, and he cannot get enough. Your flushed cheeks, the way your body language shows your excitement and nerves all in one, your towel lopsided on your head. So goddamn beautiful, he thinks to himself. Again, it’s his turn as he zones out in his thoughts, but this time, you do notice, and you can’t help but feel a sense of confidence shoot down your spine at the fact that you’re affecting him just as much as he affects you.

Your smirk grows the longer he stares, and finally he realizes what’s happening, and his face goes tomato red. He’s pretty sure no one has ever seen him blush this much since he was a teenager. “Some water would be wonderful, sweetheart, thank you,” he says, thanking whatever God in existence that his words were coherent and not a blubbering mess like his brain.

“Coming right up,” you say, and make your way into your kitchen, thankful for the little private moment to yourself. As you grab Joel a cup and fill it with ice and water, you feel your phone ring in your pocket. It’s your best friend. You bring your phone to your ear, hitting the answer button on the way up.

“Hello?” you repeat several times before you hear your best friend, but not through your phone. Forgetting the water for a minute, you scramble to the living room, where Joel is right next to, to hear your best friend coming from your living room speaker: Hello? Can you hear me?? I said did you jump on sexy neighbor’s dick ye-

You hurriedly end the call and throw your phone across the room. Your heart starts to pound even harder when you see Joel in your peripheral view, still working hard on the lock, but he is definitely in the proximity to have seen and heard everything. You quickly turn back to the kitchen to grab the glass, purposely avoiding Joel’s eye.

Quickly you grab the glass and place it on the little table near the front door. Joel sits back on his haunches for a moment and takes a long gulp of the ice cold water. Too amused at the display that happened moments ago, he can’t help himself when he says, “So… sounds like ya got your hands full with that friend of yours, hm?” He looks up at you with mischief in his eye.

And just like that, any sense of confidence you had at having the upper hand over this Texan man went down the drain. You completely fumble. “Oh- I- yeah, my best friend… Did you hear- Fuck, no, of course you heard, I-”

Joel pulls himself up to stand at full height, now towering over you. He brings his pointer finger and thumb to your chin, pulling you to meet his eyes while also pulling you from the hole you keep digging deeper. You immediately shut up. He has a crooked grin plastered on his face when he says, “I didn’t hear a thing,” followed by a wink. You can feel your knees wanting to buckle. You breathily squeak out an okay and he assures you with another okay in response. You two stare into each other’s eyes for a moment before Joel, without thinking, says, “Let me take ya out to dinner.”

You slowly pull away from his grasp, afraid you’re invading his space even though he just asked you out on a date. He takes it as a sign of discomfort and immediately creates an arm’s length of space between you. “I-I’m sorry if I overstepped or made you uncomfor-”

“No, Joel, hey,” you cut him off quickly, stepping slightly closer. “You just surprised me, that’s all. I’d love to go to dinner with you,” you beam up at him, your bottom lip wedged in your mouth to ease your nervousness. “I just pulled away because I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything,” you quickly add.

“That’ll never happen,” he softly says. He steps closer again. “I’m sorry, but I- Shit, okay, I’m a gentleman through and through, but I-” he pauses for a moment, “I just- I really need to kiss you-”

You don’t let him finish his thought as you grab onto his arms and pull him into you, guiding both his arms around your lower back and guiding your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and the way your noses bump each other ever so often is enough for you to completely buckle. His hold on you is tight enough to keep you standing, but you truly don’t know how much more of this you can take with a certain bulge pushing into your lower belly. His one hand falls lower and testing the waters, he lightly grasps onto your asscheek. You moan into his mouth at that, and he takes that as your signal for him to fully grab you, hiking you up onto your tippy toes in an attempt to consume more of you. He breaks the kiss a little to give you some airflow back, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he brings his kisses to the side of your mouth, to your cheek, gliding down your jaw and neck, licking and nipping anywhere you give him access to.

You were right. It’s not quite exactly your thighs like you were imagining earlier, but the way his plump lips, mustache, and scruff feel along your neck is absolutely sinful and addicting, and…

Oh, you are absolutely fucked.

Author's note - extended: I hope you guys enjoyed this enough to tune in to part 2! The 2nd part will be very SMUTTY, so... ;)

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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lxmine · 2 years

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I really liked your itto hc, can I request one more?

We know how well he's clothed in the game so the reader can't help but keep staring at his chest and eventually reaching out to touch it. They feel him up a little before realising what they're doing and promptly remove their hand. I'd really like to know how you think he would react.

Thank you for indulging our requests and working so hard on them.💪

❝i know i shouldn’t but….❞ + itto, capitano, dottore x gn!reader

+. Crackfic kinda?, big honkers, slight suggestive,, lower cased letters

+. Summary : them reacting to you wanting to touch/touching their broad chest :p

+. A/N THIS OMG T-T im surprised but HELL YES HEBEIDBEJDBI i added capitano and dottore bcuz why not >:) and im having writers block rn and i tried my best to post pls forgive me for this ugly ass writing T-T AND IM SORRY BUT I GOT CARRIED AWAY AT CAPITANO’S

itto

it’s raining pretty heavily outside, and you’re laying in bed with your beloved oni who’s rambling about this and that.

he’s half bare, it’s cold yet he doesn’t really mind. he looks and observes you as he talked.

a grin then creeps up to his face seeing that you’re looking at his chest and your hand that was resting on his waist was now on his chest feelings him up.

“sigh, my chest is that distracting huh?” realizing what he meant and said, you quickly took your hands off him and covered your face with the blanket.

“shush! you just looked comfy is all.” he chuckles and scoots closer to embrace you, you’ve hugged him many times before but you’ll always find his chest so damn comfortable.

“don’t get shy on me now, i know how much you love to cuddle onto me.” he pulls the blanket down to pamper you with kisses. “go on, i’ll be your personal pillow for the rest of your life baby.” he smirks pulling you even more closer to him.

“stop that, you’re embarrassing me!” you chuckled burying your face into his chest while he laughed and caressed your hair at the same time. “let’s just take a nap.”

capitano

he’s working on his piled up desk while you sat beside him doing some of his easy paper work he forced you to because he doesn’t want you to annoy him while he worked

you were getting hella bored, his office have nothing interesting in them so you just stared at the masked man who is too focused to even spare a glance at you.

“did i allow you to stop?” he sighs as he continued to sign papers, you only responded with a grumble and stood up to grab a treat. “do you maybe want coffee?”

he humms in response and so you quickly went out to take some.

coming back with a lollipop in mouth and hot coffee in hand. you noticed his coat is now off and is lying on his couch near his desk.

skipping over to him “careful, don’t want you spilling that thing on you.” he says still not averting his eyes from his papers not like you can see his eyes but you get what i mean

“damn, i wouldn’t mind working with you if you looked like that everyday.” you said sarcastically, taking your seat beside him and placing his coffee next to him and he only scoffed.

he then took his mask off while you admired him as he took a sip of his coffee. he looked so……….. so hot. the outline of his chest is visible through his black turtle neck and his stern expression draw you into him more

“get to work, thought you wanted to eat dinner out tonight. help me finish these, faster.” he ordered giving you a small glare. a small blush creeping up to your face while you looked up to him and his chest

“w-well if you want me to work for hours, i need motivation you know…!” you said crassly teasing him, but he didn’t look to happy about that (when did he ever?)

“if you wish to touch my chest then you must finish at least a dozen of these, do we have a deal?” he offers, grabbing your pen to start writing

“yes, sir!”

dottore

“nah, how the hell is that even gonna work?”, “you seriously think that’s gonna work?”, “i just know that’s not gonna work.” and more of your annoying comments about the ruin he’s experimenting on repeated.

you love annoying the living shit out of him just so he could do what you want so you wouldn’t annoy him. he groaned glaring at you, who is sitting at his couch.

“zandik.” you called and received no response, only the sound of grinding metals are heard.

“zandik..” “…” “zandik!” “…” “zandik, zandik, dottore, dott-“ “IN THE NAME OF THE TSARITSA, WHAT IS IT!?”

“it’s warm, can you take your coat off already?” you said standing up from the couch to grab some candies from your candy jar that he kept in his lab for you they’re totally not poisoned or filled with some weird medicine

he gave you a look before rolling his eyes and taking his coat off along with his mask. “if you wanted to see my chest, you could’ve just asked, you insolent brat.” he then throws his coat at you and genstures you to come closer to him. “now would you be so kind and tie my hair for me, love?” he smirks and kisses your cheeks. “sure, sure! as long as you’re gonna come home with me tonight so we can cuddle.” you winked.

he sighed, he rarely comes home because of his piled work and experiments but he guesses he can make exceptions for you.

was twirling my hair and swinging my feet while writing this LMAO and i just turned 15 back in october 30th yay!!! anyway, here ya go. i apologize for not posting in so long i ws busy grinding my ass off for scaramouche cuz i couldn’t help myself and wished for nilou LMAO and just so u guys know my requests are open and you’re free to request fics or hcs you want! just not nsfw/smut ones. anyway stay safe and hydrated, take care of your mental and physical health I LOVE YOU <3

MASTERLIST

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #arataki itto #genshin itto #itto x gender neutral reader #itto x reader #genshin impact capitano #capitano #capitano x reader #genshin dottore #il dottore #dottore x reader #genshin headcanons #itto headcanons #dottore headcanons

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nerves-nebula · 11 months

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Hi um terrible sorry to bother you rn with a maybe loaded question but what would be each turtles biggest concern(?) issue(?) once they leave splinter and like move to the hidden city? I have a decent idea for donnie and leo but have barely have any for raph and absolutely nothing for mikey

This may or may not turn into something im working on for this tmnt iteration

not entirely sure what you mean by concern so I'll try to wrap my head around "issue." but even that's pretty broad, since they have a lot of overlapping issues.

so like, they've all got PTSD. just to get that outta the way. i think ive talked about this before but i cant find those posts sooo here's to hoping i dont contradict myself!

Raph: Raph mostly struggles with figuring out his identity outside of being a protector. he also focuses a lot on trying to remain present (not dissociate) and being more in touch with his bodies needs, as well as his emotional needs. it's hard for him to pick up new hobbies because he can't really tell what he likes?? so that's what hes doing in therapy, trying to figure himself out and learn how to better take care of HIMSELF instead of others. and like, see himself as a person haha.

Mikey: Mikey gets a bit high off of freedom and kind of goes crazy throughout his twenties, lots of sex, parties, magic drugs, normal drugs, he's down for whatever. he's kind of all over the place and he loves it at first but then he realizes it might not be a great way to live for him. he wants to have something to show for his life and work and like, find a community (while still being insane sometimes :>) and he ends up doing a lot of charity work, painting murals, and a bunch of other stuff. eventually he stumbles his way into a tattoo apprenticeship. His whole thing is basically figuring out how to be his own impulse control, with a side of guilt because he feels like he's the "least traumatized" of his brothers (he still has PTSD it just usually shows up differently than in his brothers)

Mikey also really, REALLY hates being called stupid (not as a joke, like if he fucks something up and someone says hes dumb or something). Splinter always said he was the dumbest one of them all and he acts like he doesn't care, BUT HE DO. it really gets under his skin.

Leo: a lotta self hatred on his end tbh. he spends a lot of time as the hidden cities protector trying to atone for his past mistakes. he feels both fragile and like he's walking on eggshells around his brothers because he knows that he's made most of their problems worse. he also feels like what he went through isnt as bad, because splinter liked him the most. so he's got a similar guilt thing going on as Mikey, with the added pressure of feeling like he has to "earn" his place with his brothers, the way he had to "earn" his place as Splinters favorite.

Donnie: Donnie goes to college pretty early into moving into the hidden city, which he's super excited about! he gets into a really bad relationship for like a year or two with Adelaide, and after that just kind of becomes more and more suicidal until he attempts to kill himself. im not actually entirely sure about the timeline here but yeah, he deals with a lot of sexual & relationship trauma as well as self esteem issues (literally only conceives of himself as pathetic and weak), intrusive thoughts, and suicidal ideation.

donnie doesn't feel like he'll ever be good enough for anything, and he resents the people around him for disagreeing because he thinks they're lying to him.

hope that wasnt all too rambly for ya!

#nnstuff #ask #teenage mutant neglected turtles #suicide tw

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the-power-of-stuff · 3 months

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thoughts on the changes are to sukka in the live action?

Hi! Thank you so much for this ask! I love this ask, cuz after I watched "Warriors," I immediately went to a bunch of my mutuals screaming "GUYS I have SO MANY THOUGHTS" but I was reluctant to share beyond that group until you opened this door. <3

That said, I really have SO many thoughts. But I'll try to summarize for the purposes of this ask, and if you're interested in reading me rambling on in more detail for 2.5k words, I made a separate post about it here: https://www.tumblr.com/the-power-of-stuff/743357633226031104/the-live-action-sukka-manifesto-that-i-just

Spoilers below!

The more I sit with this episode, and the more I think back on the original, the more endeared I become to OG Sokka and Suki and their relationship from the animated show. I love sassy Suki. I love Sokka also being sassy but then showing us and Suki not only that he is very capable of growth and change, but how badly he desires those things for himself. His growth trajectory is not quite so broad in the live-action version, and thus his training with Suki is a bit less impactful story-wise.

That said, I did have a lot of fun with live-action Sukka. I'm not immune to the fan service they gave us, and I thought Suki's characterization was adorable. She's very different! I realized while writing the above-linked dissertation just how different. And I think her live-action personality fits for the changes that were made to the story and her environment—the fact that she's not a scrappy orphan, but rather the sheltered daughter of a fierce and protective fighter.

And I think I'm generally okay with this change because it made Sokka and Suki's interactions so delightful. There was so much awkward romantic tension, and it was the kind of stuff that Sukka shippers have been trying to squeeze into missing "Warriors of Kyoshi" scenes fic for the past 19 years (oof, that made me feel really old, sorry everyone).

I was disappointed that we didn't get to see Sokka in the Kyoshi Warrior uniform. Less disappointed than I would've been had I not seen the fight scenes in the trailer and noticed he was still in his regular clothes. I think that gave me time to set my expectations low. And actually, the thing I was most poised to be disappointed about was a thing that didn't happen. When I first saw the trailer, I noticed a moment where Suki steps in front of Sokka to block a fire blast, and I thought this was going to replace the moment where Sokka jumps in front of Suki to protect her from a fire blast.

And because I felt like that moment was so crucial for Sokka's character and his relationship with Suki, the idea that we weren't going to get it was more heartbreaking to me than the lack of Sokka in uniform. However...!

Lo and behold, they didn't take this moment away from us, and the instant I saw this on screen, all past transgressions were forgiven lol. Like, honestly, the relief I felt... And we still get to see him use a fan! Even if he's not in makeup.

I go into some more critical analysis in the link above, but overall, I enjoyed what we got from live-action Sukka because I'm a sucker for all the glances and touches and near-kisses. I'm a sucker for all the tenderness they showed to each other right before they went out and kicked firebender ass together. They feel different in a lot of ways from animated Sukka, but I thought it was an interesting interpretation!

And I have a lot of questions about what the changes to their interactions might mean for the future development of their relationship (for example, the fact that they've already had a proper first kiss, and what that means in terms of how Sokka will process his fear and guilt and his feelings for Suki after losing Yue). But I'm curious more than anything about how those things will be handled. And I think it'll be neat if we get to see it.

#natla #natla spoilers #sukka #live action atla #netflix atla #spoilers #sokka x suki #suki x sokka #answered asks #thank you again for the ask!

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chekhovs-nailgun · 3 months

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i have some thoughts on coping thru fiction and using fic/writing as a general tool that i wanna put out there. warning: i will be discussing grooming below the cut.

so to get it out of the way, i was groomed when i was 11. i don’t think this is the time nor place for me to go into a whole ramble about the specifics of that, so i won’t. all that’s necessary right now is that it happened and within a year i started adding similar dynamics to a project i was working on.

it was a sideplot during my first nanowrimo attempt centered around a post-apocalyptic scenario. the jist of it was a kid in his mid-teens, think 16 or so, was romantically obsessed with a mid-20s, closer to 30 woman. the age difference was about the same. i would ask for advice on the story in general from my mom (phd in psychology, literally never had a problem with it lmfao, funny how that works).

was it ass? absolutely, it was. a 12 year old wrote it. it’s never seeing the light of day lmao. but it was really important in the process of me not fucking hating myself for years for thinking/internalizing that it was a moral failing on my part.

the thing about it is that at the time, it didn’t feel like coping. i felt like i was just writing about something that happens. fleshing it out in that sterile environment helped me get a grip of how fucking gross what happened to me was, while putting myself in a position where i had control over what happened, something i didn’t have irl. i didn’t even realize that’s what happened until i thought “ah yes, i started writing dark fic when i was 12, the same calendar year i was groomed.”

“…”

now i look at people arguing over the semantics of it, with fic of that type being morally reprehensible with exceptions like “only if you never share it” or “only if you use it to cope” or “using it to cope is morally reprehensible for this-or-that reason, don’t interact with it in any way other than seething rage or some other specific way”. while seething rage and pure fucking anger can be a totally fine way to deal with it, people who think in these kinds of ways need to remember: not everybody is you. making broad assumptions, nitpicking, and believing that your way is the only correct way does nothing but harm other victims by taking away an opportunity for them to work out their trauma, at best. at worst? it allows more predators to hide and commit tangible harm due to widespread assumptions that the people hurting others are the people posting fic, and not the “safe” adults playing into kids’ interests and making them feel important and special. (source: that’s what mine did; yucky bad fanfiction was never a part of the equation.)

i know what the response to this is. “ackshully posting it is doing harm because it normalizes it and gives predators the confidence to act on the thoughts they already have; the human psyche is more sensitive to porn and if you get tired of fiction you’re bound to turn to nonfiction”. this is where the age old disagreement comes into play, and while i don’t see much of a point in rehashing it for people who already have their minds made up on it, i would like to note a couple of things, firstly that humans aren’t mirrors. most people see things like this and recognize it’s wrong, just like they recognize that other subjects criminalized irl are wrong, such as murder, theft, etc. if somebody sees something problematic and decides it’s a good way to act, there was something already wrong, be it undiagnosed mental illness or being too young/impressionable to participate safely in such circles. i also find this viewpoint really cruel in that it takes responsibility away from the actual predators, essentially painting them as wild animals who “couldn’t help it, they became desensitized and just had to have more of that vile content you people make” when grooming is, at its core, a desire for power over another. im gonna come out and say it: predators are smart. they are called predators for a reason. thinking of them as lawless beasts who operate out of instinct is entirely disrespectful to victims.

the cold hard truth of the matter is that darkfic, no matter how disgusting people find it on a case by case basis, is morally neutral. it cannot damage anybody by simply existing unless warnings are ignored or it is actively weaponized, sometimes meaning that the content itself is removed from the protective warnings and wantonly put on display for large audiences of underage people to see.

i personally don’t like a whole lot of darkfic, im really picky about what i read. and i think that no matter my thoughts on it, it has a right to exist. idc, consider me a “bad victim” lmao. if you do that’s your cross to bear, not mine.

tldr: sometimes you need to express shit and fuck you if you try to enforce your own feelings on others trying to do so

#ok to rb #tw grooming mention #chekhov’s cathedral #shipcourse #proship #anti anti #proship please interact

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system-of-a-feather · 4 months

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So I was reconnecting with an anonymous friend (/j) and we were talking about ADHD and Autism cause those were both things we ended up realizing we had that was obvious in hindsight - but the topic of hyperfixation vs special interest and where the line is drawn came up and I had to like read into it (and I might ask my therapist who specialized in AuDHD) but from what I'm getting is hyperfixations are very intense focus and interest on one topic where its all that the brain really wants to think about where as special interests are these chronic long standing specific topics that persist throughout large periods if not all of life and serve as these large motivating factors for autistic people and things they tend to center their life around and its really made me realize that my special interests are a lot shorter and more specific than what I thought

And I also realized that the whole thing of how I REALLY can't enjoy life unless I have a reason or place it falls into is kinda just because I literally don't have interest in engaging in life if I can't make it relate to my special interests and the plans I want to do with it. I really Do Not exist or live much outside of my special interests and it takes a lot of effort to broaden my horizons to things that actually involve my social and emotional needs (which I do because I need to in order to survive) but like.... I literally don't care for living if not for my special interests; and I don't mean that really in a stereotypically depressed way, I have no issue with life and my life doesn't suck or anything, but I have literally no motivation to do anything that isn't related to my special interest and so I tend to get suicidal if I loose interest in them because I just don't have the motivation to live. Again, not for any "sad" reason, just chemically, I go "welp breathing takes up more effort than its worth maybe I should just die cause I'm not motivated"

And I realize, that is a large place where I really struggle to understand people that don't run on a similar wavelength and its a large reason why I always know what and where I'm doing and what I want to do - because I ALWAYS want to do something connected to a handful of topics and if I don't then my brain would just rather lay down and die than chronically live for reasons other than my special interests.

Everything I do, everything I'm motivated to engage in, is because it ties back to one of the following:

Behavioral and Psychological Phenomenon (how and why animals and people are the way they are and the facets that go into it)

Birds

Research

The creation and sharing of complex fictional worlds

And a lot of them, as I've recovered trauma and integrated parts, I've had to recover that were latched off from the rest and I think additional two others that have always been important that I'm not sure if they are properly Special Interest level or not yet since I'm not as well connected with them but

Game making is probably somewhere to be integrated into the concept of creation and complex fictional worlds but I don't have the verbage to label it cohesively

Nature and understanding the way the world is within itself

And I was going to say a totally different tangent / ramble on this topic, but I think when looking at it, my special interest as a very broad integrated topic is "Experiences of the real and fictional world and the means of exploring and sharing it"

And so I like to think, I like to talk, and I like to share a lot - and for some reason its all bird themed because autism can't be cohesive without the random creature theming

But ya know, rambling

#alter: riku #alter: fei #actuallydid #actually autistic #special interest #special interests #recovery #riku rambles

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princelylove · 5 months

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I don't see many people talking about this but your opinion in gender bender characters?

I'm just thinking about my favorite yandere boys suddenly turn into girl or how they act different when they are girl. If they are girl, surely they will take the advantages to being closer and have more intimate moments, like bathing together, changing clothes and trying out each other clothes, you know girl stuffs. I think they will be more understandable and gentle, maybe even more charming when they're boy.

For yandere girl turn into boy, I haven't thoughts about it much but I think they will be more protective?

Feel free to ramble about any characters you want prince :)

~ 🏵️ anon ~

I LOVE gender swaps. They’re so fun, request as many of these as you'd like. You get to play with their fashion, their hair, their demeanor, it’s great. I think I played too many fashion games as a child. I didn’t forget about your other request anon, it’s just taking a little while to cook. I don’t normally take gender specific asks, but I’ll allow it as a treat for 🏵️ anon. ♡

For me, swapping gender needs to still keep the core of the character. Although I don’t think genderswapping is going to make a non-protective yandere suddenly protective just because they’re male, it does affect how many limits they can push. Let’s take Jotaro, for example.

Jotaro is still tall, and broad. Absolutely no changes to her canon outfit, this girl only wears pants. She’ll wear a skirt if her mother asked her to for an event, but not if her darling asked. She may be utterly obsessed with you, but she’s not going to change her sense of style- you might have to change, though. Jotaro tends to prefer her darling in frilly, cutesy clothes. Also, let it be known, masc Jotaro has no issue bathing with you. Jotaro’s grateful that there’s a lack of weird looks when she bodyblocks you in the locker room before gym, but she hates that people assume you’re just friends because “girl friendships are just like that.” How much more clear can she be? She’s always with you. Jotaro insists on touching you when you’re “hanging out” together, she’ll wrap her arm around her darling even when it’s really inconvenient. She’s not really girly in the slightest- she doesn’t care about fashion, never wears makeup, only owns sports bras, but she gets really into it when she realizes she can control what her darling wears if she just keeps giving you gifts pre kidnapping. Imagining her in a lingerie store overstimulated because why are there so many types of stupid bras? She fails to realize that gifting your friends underwear is weird, but at least it’s high quality. Jotaro’s still creepy- maybe even more so, but I’d argue she is more protective in a feminine form, as hard as that is to believe. She bodyblocks you in the locker room so no one else can see you, pulls your uniform’s skirt down and regularly ‘suggests’ you start wearing safety shorts underneath them or tights (if she doesn’t just buy them for you, pull you aside, and put them on you), she pays a lot more attention to your chest now that she’s consciously aware that they’re there. Why don’t you button your uniform up more? It’s cold out. And there’s perverts out. Not that she’d voice the second part. She'll let you borrow her jacket, sure, but she's not interested in borrowing clothes- they wouldn't fit her, anyway.

#🏵️ anon #yandere jotaro kujo #request granted

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paramorearchived · 1 month

Text

January 27, 2011

Transcript:

bible belt.

can't believe i'm gonna post about faith.

but it's all that's been on my mind lately. and i think, just with my blog and with a few people here, it's come up enough times to dedicate a little more time to. i'll start by saying this... i never thought it could get any harder to live in the south, be a Christian, and do what we do. but lately, it has. and i'll finish starting by saying another thing... this post is about as personal as i could possibly get with all of you. to me, this subject matter is like ripping off a bandaid... or super gluing your lips together and then tearing them apart. (jeremy had a friend do that once, how bloody does that sound?)

disclaimer: i realize that only a few of you here share the same faith as me, so you'll have to read this all like it's my totally private diary. like i'm writing it just for my own eyes. and also, i am not using this entry as a way to make you "see the light" and start believing whatever I do. in fact, this is almost the opposite.

so here are the basics: Christians are supposed to love everyone. we are supposed to be a clear representation of God's heart for humankind. without quoting scripture and getting myself into a storm, it's easy to see when reading the Bible - particularly the New Testament - that God's desire for his creation is love. that's a broad statement but hopefully you follow. sure bad things happen, life happens... but in the end, there's grace. there's love. and at least to me, that's God.

so if Jesus walked the earth, showing grace to everyone, hanging out with "sinners" and even being condemned for it, all in the name of love...what's so hard to understand that as Christians, we should strive to do the same? i mean, duh, as a human being living amongst other human beings, i'm not expecting perfection.. but that's just the point. Jesus didn't expect perfection from us so why do we expect it from one another? why is it that Christians are known for being the exact opposite of how it was written that Jesus lived his life? why are we known as a bunch of hypocrites? i'm getting tired of the representation we've got out there. seems like the only Christians that speak up are the crazies. and i guess that's why i'm so not into talking about all of this all the time. i don't wanna be one more name you can add to that list.

the million dollar question that i'm wrestling with lately is this: what's the difference between someone who says they're a Christian but shows no love and someone who has nothing to do with God but shows love? who would you rather be around? ... that's what i thought!

ugh, so i know i'm rambling and rambling. unfortunately i don't think i have a total point for all of this. i'm not expecting anyone to have an epiphany about what i've typed up. just so angry lately at people who make believing in God look like hate. figured that you guys would understand because i bet you all might have your own stories of condemnation and harsh judgement. i call those stories "playing god moments" - only call them that to myself of course to avoid seeming ridiculously narcissistic! but now you know, so if you have a "playing god moment", please share it if you can.

and you know, maybe my point is that whether or not it goes down in history, i just want to be able to be known not for being "a Christian" but for being someone that tried to be real with people. sure, i'm not happy all the time. that's not what having faith is about anyways. i just want to know that i loved people right. or as well as i could. i really believe with everything in me God would actually be pleased with just that. and before i end this, i just want to say that i hope none of this comes off as self righteous. that would bum me out so hard cause that's exactly what i'm trying to speak out against. okay, so i'm going to quote one verse - 1 Corinthians 13:13 "Three things remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."

thanks for reading this one. i'm sure it was confusing - and i didn't even proofread :/ love, hayley

#paramore #hayley williams #2011 #livejournal

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douglysium · 2 months

Text

Episode 4 TMP Quick Thoughts

Housekeeping and Prologue

Hello, this is Douglysium and you might not know me as that guy who wrote over 100 pages of analysis on the Eye (which can be read on Tumblr here (https://douglysium.tumblr.com/post/735599414228484097/the-relationships-between-the-dread-powers-the) or Google Docs here (The Relationships Between the Dread Powers: The Eye- Knowledge is Fear and Ignorance is Bliss)) or as that guy who wrote an article on the Extinction (which can be read on Tumblr here(https://douglysium.tumblr.com/post/717929126195003392/what-would-avatars-of-the-extinction-be-like-a) and Google Docs here(What would Avatars of the Extinction be like?: A TMA Speculation)). Suffice to say I might be a bit of a TMA fan. Also, spoilers for TMP up until episode 2. You can read my ramblings on the last episode here (TMP Quick Thoughts 3).

However, Protocol offers a very unique opportunity and experience for me because I didn’t actually get into TMA until after it was over and I binged all of it. So this is my first time experiencing something even remotely similar to what the original TMA fans probably experienced when waiting for each episode week by week and slowly having to put everything together with the limited information they had. So I decided to throw my hat into the ring since this might be my only chance to do something similar. However, I’m working on some longer form TMA content so I can’t spend as much time on these articles giving a bunch of super detailed thoughts. I will try to keep these short and that inevitably might mean some could have questions about why I think or predict certain things and in those cases I would probably recommend you read at least some of the two articles I mentioned above to get a better idea of where I’m coming from. This also means I won’t be giving you a play-by-play of every single thing that happens in the episode so I encourage you to listen to or read them yourselves and feel free to comment if you feel something is important.

These reviews are probably going to end up focusing mostly on the Entities and their manifestations as they are what I have thought about the most and spent the most time interpreting and there’s been a lot of… interesting theories floating around about how the Entities are manifesting that I want to go over.

Finally, I’m just going to say it right now, spoiler warning for all of The Magnus Archives. I know that Jon and co said one could start with Protocol and be fine, and while that’s probably true, media like this tends to be made in conversation with or take into consideration what came before it in the irl chronology in order to connect them. While I’m sure you could skip The Magnus Archives, I don't really see the point of skipping over it when we are already getting characters from TMA showing up in TMP in Protocol. So to me it’s pretty clear that if we want to understand the full picture of TMP and all the things it is trying to say then we can’t just try to pretend TMA doesn’t exist or scrub it away. Just because you could understand what’s happening without the context in broad strokes doesn’t mean you're getting all the nuances.

These articles are meant to be quick and short so sorry if there’s typos and if I don’t address every possible question or possibility. I don’t want to repeat myself too much in this series outside of the prologue so be sure to skim some of my other articles.

Big Oopsie

In my last discussion around Episode 3 I realized I made some major mistakes with my interpretation of the statement. Luckily, it turns out most of the specific points about the Entities I mentioned still apply but it definitely pushes Webber’s statement towards having more themes revolving around The Corruption. On Reddit I posted notes in the replies of the post with the mistakes I made and how that changes my reading of the episode. I also have the corrections in italics on the google doc and Tumblr versions of that episode.

For the sake of convenience before I look at this episode here are the paragraphs and their corrections.

But then there’s that weird rash infection with all the roots. I mean yeah there’s a very real argument for The Corruption, both thematically and physically, but Leitner has mentioned that the Powers can manifest as anything that generates the fear they feed off of. Not only that, but there is a precedent for The Eye manifesting as a disease or infection. Albrecht von Closen had an encounter with The Eye after coming across a tomb and taking a bunch of old books with numerous statements (something Jonah later stole). In MAG 127 (Remains to be Seen) it’s clear Albrecht is being beset by a strange illness and he is becoming sickly and dying (he’s also spouting statements and staring at people). Albrecht later dies from unknown causes (the mysterious illness) and an autopsy reveals that his internal organs, bones, and inner skin had been covered with eyes… but there’s no eyes visible in this TMP episode. It might literally just be a disease caused by Webber not getting medical treatment or it could be The Eye trying to force Webber to choose between hiding and dying or risk going out and interacting with people. To risk being perceived.

Okay, here is where I make my first mistake. I say he doesn’t like how Jasmine talks to Gerard even though he is clearly talking about Maddie and in addition to that I misread and misheard Gerald as Gerard. So she was talking to someone completely unrelated to the Eye. Something that weakens my point for the Eye.

But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. The Corruption is more likely a possibility here. Jane Prentiss mentions that she didn’t like The Eye and her worms reacted to it. She even described it as anathema. So maybe the fear of being perceived is similar to what Jane experienced. Additionally, the Corruption often ties into themes of toxic love. Specifically, forms of toxic love we might find disgusting or repulsive. The Corruption doesn’t just relate to physically disgusting things but also behaviors and mentalities we might find gross. Someone can be physically sick and have a “sick” behavior or be “sick” in the head. Here we see Maddie caring for Webber even as he rots away but she never seems to try to get him the help he probably needs from other people.

You could also argue that Webber seems unhealthily attached to Maddie and is using her to enable his self-destructive behavior. Not to mention The Corruption and disease with all the maggots going hand-in-hand all the time. Something I stupidly forgot in the original version of this was that in the very medical files NORRIS is spitting out, Maddie is “Maddie Webber, age 39 – Deceased— ” and in addition to that the part of the file before this says “journal of Dr. Samuel Webber, age 46. Issued by grief councillor Harriot Manning.” So if this is being documented by Webber as he is turning into a tree that would mean either 1. Maddie is already dead and this is all happening due to the doctor’s unhealthy emotional response and attachment or 2. The doctor possibly straight up killed Maddie. With this in mind that would mean that Webber’s panic attack is linked to the death of Maddie and the thing he is freaking out about is the possibility of people knowing he thinks Maddie is alive or that he might have killed her. The fact that he says “They don’t understand. I was so close to getting caught... but it’s done. All I need to do now is disappear.” points to the idea that he might have killed her.

This part of the statement “Thought I heard someone calling my name. No flashlight though, no movement, just the voice. Sounds like Maddie. My hands won't stop shaking” might have been The Corruption using the feelings of disgust and love Webber has towards himself and Maddie to call to him. So when Webber dies he rots away and can metaphorically join his also rotting life within the garden or dirt that everyone’s body will one day decompose into.

This wildly changes the reading to being way more Corruption coded. Someone who loved someone in such an incredibly unhealthy way he ended up killing the person he loved. There’s also an interesting metaphor here for the garden. Someone being killed and metaphorically or literally being used to allow a garden to grow as their body rots into something disgusting before being combined with feelings of shame, self loathing, and disgust. The Corruption and self loathing is something I haven’t really mentioned but there’s a precedent for it. As I’ve mentioned, corruption is the fear of disgusting things and that would often include the fear that you yourself might be disgusting physically or in terms of behavior. If you hate yourself you might say “I’m a piece of shit” and the idea of that is usually people find shit to be disgusting and repulsive.

There’s also an argument for The Flesh and body horror and in TMA sometimes The Flesh had a bit of garden theme, such as with Jared Hopworth’s domain.

In the original version I do mention The Spiral as a strong possibility but I also don’t give it a fear shake. I’m not going super in depth to it but Webber is clearly losing it and you could argue that maybe this Maddie person is connected to the Spiral and Webber acknowledges he is paranoid so he might be plenty afraid of going crazy. Mentions about how, for example, he is having trouble telling what time of day it is due to the unusual amounts of light could point to themes of The Spiral and being mistaken about something.

This statement is definitely more nebulous than the others so far but at the same time I don’t really see it being different than for example the vampire or that one time someone had to watch a video of a guy eating a computer. There are still statements from TMA that are just as nebulous and people are still debating to this very day what Entity these statements or beings might / should belong to.

Due to the additions I am more confident that this statement is probably connected towards The Corruption. Maybe like 85% sure this is The Corruption (If I had to assign an Entity and we assume they are still present) and the other possibilities being The Eye, Spiral, and Flesh respectively. With The Eye and Spiral being more likely than The Flesh.

Gwen enters the scene and offers Alice some sort of job “thing” on the 27th but refuses to elaborate on what it is. Which reminds me of the behavior Jonah had after taking over Elias and how he often held information from people like Jon for reasons that weren’t always clear. But eventually Alice gets Gwen to open up and she admits that it’s dinner with friends. Despite this it’s still kind of weird that Gwen thought to ask Alice of all people. They don’t exactly seem like friends so that’s strange. I can’t say if this means anything though.

Someone pointed out that Gwen is probably asking Alice to take her shift which makes a lot more sense then whatever the fuck I thought was happening. It’s still interesting that Gwen would ask for a favor though and then proceed to not elaborate which I still find really weird. Normally, if you ask for a favor you usually want to say why in order to get sympathy or understanding and trying to just get someone to do stuff for you for no reason tends to come off as shady. I still wonder if there’s a particular reason Gwen is so cagey. She asked what terrible event led Sam working for this organization in a past episode so I wonder if all the characters have some sort of trauma or encounter with the supernatural that is affecting them differently.

Episode 4 “Taking Notes”

Okay let’s get started with the episode. Once again we cut to hearing what’s happening in the show via the computers. I’ve already spoken about this 3 times at this point so blah blah blah something like The Web or Eye is watching through devices, maybe The Extinction if you want to go full on mad conspiracy theorist and I think Smirke’s 14 are still at play and if I’m wrong yolo but also maybe The Extinction emerged, who knows.

Alice immediately starts grilling Sam for trying to access restricted files after receiving a security notification from Sam’s activities. Sam was looking for terms relating to “Magnus” and “Protocol”.... roll credits.

But on a more serious note, this ties into a point I’ve been making again and again about Sam. He is extraordinarily curious and in this respect he is very similar to some other notably Eye aligned people like Jon. Additionally, the Eye just tends to attract people who are curious or want to know / witness something in various ways. Sam points out that there’s no reason Alice should be getting any computer security notifications and she says “I shouldn’t be, but you should be damn glad that this system doesn’t do anything like it should. If Colin caught wind of this he would have a meltdown! ” Which I think could also tie into The Eye since one of the things the Entity revolves around is the fear of being perceived and / or judged. So here we have Sam being caught doing something he clearly shouldn’t be doing and it’s being revealed to someone who shouldn’t have seen it. Alice, also belabors the point by saying Colin would be pissed if he found out what Sam tried to do.

I know that whether the computers are aligned with The Eye specifically might be debatable and if it turns out that these computers aren't Eye aligned this could debunk my point. There is definitely a precedent for it since the Tapes from TMA were actually aligned with The Web. However, I would argue that in the case of the Tapes, even though the artifacts themselves were aligned with The Web, taking statements and recording them is something The Eye still tended to do and The Web’s plan involved using the statements in order to metaphysically tie the Entities to them so they could be dragged to a new universe. What I’m saying is aspects of The Eye could still be at play.

Sam of course questions why files mentioning “The Protocol” would be restricted and Alice does what she usually does and basically tells him to stop asking questions. Which is fair in this case because the government probably doesn’t take snooping around secret files very lightly. This idea of the government catching you trying to take secrets and potentially doing something terrible if they catch you could also relate to The Eye. Alice says that whatever "The Protocol" happens to be it seems to be super high level lock and key stuff.

When asked how much trouble Sam could be in if caught we get this interaction.

ALICE

“All I know is it used to involve Starkwall.”

SAM

“Starkwall? As in “The San Pedro Square Massacre” Starkwall?”

ALICE

“The private military contractors yeah.”

I did an EXTREMELY light Google search and, at least on the surface, it doesn’t seem like this massacre is a direct reference to a real event. It’s also too early to make any hard guesses that aren’t just speculating but here are some of the first possibilities that come to my head.

Maybe, this massacre is connected to when the Entities first emerged and their first appearance caused some level of chaos due to a bunch of supernatural and weird stuff potentially happening. Maybe, it’s a lot more simple and it’s just a violent event tied to an Entity like The Slaughter. Sam seems to have a strong reaction to Starkwall implying that they are either famous or infamous to at least some people. Is this organization tied to an Entity like The Slaughter? It could also be that they specifically deal with fighting or dealing with the supernatural like how Section 31 of the police force in TMA was called upon to deal with supernatural things. Maybe Starkwall will even end having Hunters tied to The Hunt in the same way that Section 31 did? Of course, it’s way too early with way too little information to say with certainty.

I think it’s very interesting that, unlike TMA, none of the characters mention that they feel like they are constantly being watched no matter where they go in the O.I.A.R. facility in the same way Jon and co mentioned they felt like they were being watched in the Archives. It could just be that they haven’t mentioned it though since it’s not like that detail was dropped in episode 1 of TMA either.

When the statement this episode starts it is AUGUSTUS to which Alice responds “Hey! Augustus! Feels like I haven’t heard him in forever!” and we get this interaction.

SAM

So is this, like, a rare voice?

Gwen presses spacebar, irritated. The voice stops.

ALICE

Kinda. It’s usually just Chester or Norris. Augustus is a bit of a special occasion.

I once again have to wonder if there is some sort of logic or factor that determines when specific voices show up. I don’t know if Alice is aware of any possible triggers despite saying “Augustus is a bit of a special occasion” since she could simply be joking.

The statement itself is one of the easier ones to summarize I think. Basically, someone gets a violin of the “finest craftsmanship” from a strange gentleman by a fire and quickly realizes that using the violin allows him to play amazingly but comes at a cost of blood and pain. Either from themself or others. Eventually, the musician secretly gives his nephew the cursed instrument as part of an inheritance. I would say that this statement is probably detailing an encounter with The Slaughter. We have seen time and time again cases of The Slaughter causing violence via music, such as Grifters Bone.

As we are regaled with the story we learn that this musician had a tutor at some point by the name of Oliver Bardwell (ha bard… like musician) and we are told he “nursed a conviction that this honor was purely the fruit of his own skills as an instructor, rather than a product of my talent and endeavor. Bardwell, a singularly vexatious man, reveled in the task of reminding me that, though my father may hold station in the Lords, the regrettable position of my birth ensured I could not rely upon that fact to provide for my future.” So we quickly learn that Oliver is an asshole and in addition to that the statement giver even confesses “In these moments of Bardwell’s cruelty, I shall confess I indulged my imagination in contemplation of what morbid or grotesque fates might befall him on the journey, by happenstance or even by my own hand.”

I think this helps point to parallels with The Slaughter. The Slaughter is an Entity born from the fear of violence and here we have the implication that Oliver was a potentially violent and cruel man which in turn caused whoever is giving the statement to wish to enact violence or misfortune upon Oliver. It is unfortunately not completely unheard of in various time periods and places for figures of authority, such as parents, teachers, and mentors, to attempt to enact discipline via forms of violence, or they might use violent methods as a form of negative reinforcement. It would not surprise me if Oliver was using such a method to try to get the narrator to play better. We also know that this statement was probably not super recent because we get “I paid little heed to his prattle or ambitions, spending those weeks en route refining my finger patterns upon the timeworn bridge of my cherished Rogeri, at least as far as the unsteady coach would permit.” and “Alas, as the journey continued, Bardwell’s practiced manners and veneer of refinement gradually eroded, and as the summer's warmth yielded to autumn's chill, his demeanor truly soured, a change hastened by each rut and jolt of the aged carriage” which points to the idea that they were traveling via horse pulled carriage. We also later hear about a coachman, so I don’t think that this statement takes place in a time where cars and / or planes were common.

Going back to what I said earlier about Oliver and violence we get this “I have made mention of the grim fantasies that on occasion possessed my youthful mind, but you must believe me, nephew, when I say I had no part in his death. I do not know what at last caused the frenzied paroxysm which seized him that night. He had slept but little the week prior, and the strain upon his nerves was plain to see. It was as I missed the fingering of what should have been a simple exercise, a mistake I ascribe to the coach’s jostling, that he leapt to his feet. Words tumbled from his lips, devoid of coherence, a symphony of mania conducted by some unseen maestro of his own imagination.” It is rather notable that when Oliver begins to become violent and frenzied the narrator immediately believes the source of this violent attack to be them. For some extra context a paroxysm is defined as “a sudden attack or violent expression of a particular emotion or activity.” It can also refer to “a sudden recurrence or attack of a disease; a sudden worsening of symptoms” but given the context of the scene and the fear of the narrator I assume the first definition is more applicable. It could also be possible that this is a double meaning. If we suspect that Oliver was violent before then the second definition could apply in the sense of a sudden recurrence of violence that has suddenly worsened.

We also get “I watched with growing unease as shadows danced upon the walls of his thoughts, their forms and nature hidden to me, save for what I overheard him utter beneath his breath, barely perceptible to the ear. At moments, it seemed almost as if he were listening to some far away music, though my instrument lay quiet beside me.” which points to a possible connection between The Slaughter and some of the rhythm or music it often likes to manifest as. I also think it’s interesting that the narrator mentions “grim fantasies” but reassures his nephew he did not kill Oliver. It has already been explicitly mentioned that these grim fantasies involved violence but it appears that the narrator is afraid that someone may suspect that they are reason enough for him to kill Oliver. This points to a theme of the cycle of violence, where one person might become more violent because someone else enacted violence upon them, so on and so forth.

After fighting “as though some specter flitted just beyond his sight and grasped his hands, moving them with wild abandon as Mr. Bardwell sought salvation from whatever phantoms haunted his waking dreams.” Oliver proceeds to throw himself head first out the carriage door and kill himself via busting his skull open. It’s possible that this could be a form of violence relating to self harm (since self harm could be considered an act of violence towards oneself) or maybe for whatever reason Oliver perceived something else to be attacking him. The event also causes the coachman to suspect the narrator of killing Bardwell. We get another allusion to violent outbursts in the past when it is said “He had been witness to many heated exchanges between myself and Mr Bardwell, and as I approached, it became clear he perceived not a terrified and distraught youth, but a violent killer.” So at the very least the carriage driver believes there is some sort of precedent or motive for violence here. This also shows us that the narrator in all likelihood is not so young as to be defenseless or immediately assumed to be innocent.

The coach driver’s fear of violence seems to become so great that “A primal fear seized the man, and he acted rashly. I shall not speak of what followed, but suffice it to say that I ended up alone, wandering in the night.” It’s hard to say what happened but if I had to take a shot in the dark, and consider the fact that the narrator doesn’t want to even speak about it, I have to assume that the coachman attacked them and they fought back in self-defense before being forced to kill the man. It’s possible that the carriage driver just ran away but we also have to remember that Oliver seemed like he heard “some far away music, though my instrument lay quiet beside me.” Is it possible that the coachman was also a victim of this unheard song? It would make some amount of sense considering that we soon meet a man who gives the narrator a strange violin that craves blood and can cause violence. Maybe the violin is what they heard but I am unsure and I don’t know why the narrator themselves wouldn’t have it heard. It could just be coincidence or some other factor like The Slaughter preying off the coachman’s fear.

Speaking of, the narrator meets a strange gentleman sitting by the fire and the man probes the narrator for his story while offering food. After hearing the tale he sighs and says “"Fortune does seem to have forsaken you," he mused, his expression unreadable and his tone strangely conspiratorial. "Indeed, I would suggest a stroke of luck is much in order."” before giving the narrator a strange violin. As he does, we hear about some of the other trinkets “Within it I could spy an assortment of trinkets, ranging from battered knives and chipped porcelain to fine jewelry, small ivory figures and even a set of gambler’s dice. "Luck assumes a myriad of forms, " he proclaimed, his practiced manner warm and inviting, “and today it takes the form of a simple traveler offering you his wares. You mentioned playing the violin, I believe?””

I wonder if this man is similar to Mikaele Salesa and considering that we will soon get an episode about a strange pair of dice I wonder if the set of gambler’s dice is the same set. If it is that would point to the idea that the man is not only collecting Slaughter artifacts in the same way Mikaele wasn’t aligned to any particular Entity and collected a variety of their artifacts before giving them away.

We get a bit of detail about the violin “Placing a bow upon the string, and in a single

fluid motion, he executed an echoing double stop that resonated with a satisfying thrum. He said nothing as I examined it, ascribing it no history, no famous maker or master luthier. The neck, a paragon of symmetry, led the eye from the deep crimson hue of the upper bout gradually surrendering to a subdued natural mahogany as it descended.” but as the musician continued to trace their fingers along the string “At that moment a cry of pain erupted from my throat, a cry that shocked even myself, as I realised I had cut my fingertip upon the strings. The merchant only smirked, looking at me as one might a boy who'd touched a cooking pot.” This is the first hint we get at the violin’s darker nature. The noted “deep crimson hue” the violin has might symbolize deep red blood. It could even be the vestiges of someone else who played the violin and had to give a blood offering.

After the violin player makes his way to Manheim and eventually plays the violin, we get an interesting note. “A tremor of apprehension coursed through me as I faced the silent assembly, and it was with an unfamiliar feeling of uncertainty that I gripped my new instrument. Its neck, more slender than its predecessor, sat awkwardly in my hand, and as I began my fingers fumbled in their search for purchase upon the strings. I attempted the first of my well-practiced recitations, but my playing was inelegant and rough, eliciting only dismissive whispers, and derisive muttering from my audience. A surge of indignation and fear welled within me, urged on by the knowledge that I, my father's sin, who had done terrible things to reach that hall, could never return home in disgrace. I executed a 'jete', a jarring musical demand for their attention, a declaration that I must be seen, and heard. A rapid and perfect volley of eleven notes, past which no murmur, no whisper lingered. I had their complete attention.” I’ve been pretty adamant that the Entities are still feeding off fear in TMP and to this end I would point to the fact that the violin seems to take full effect when a “surge of indignation and fear” wells within the musician and we later hear “I could see in the faces of my audience an astonishment, and something not

entirely unlike terror…”.

The violin player also makes note of “the knowledge that I, my father's sin, who had done terrible things to reach that hall” which to me increases the likelihood that they ended up having to fight and kill their coach driver since I don’t know what else they could be referring to outside of rampant misplaced guilt.

The violin reveals its true nature when “As my eyes opened, I saw of blood pooling on the neck from where my skin should be, as the uppermost layer of the fingertip dangled, torn and hanging like discarded parchment. Pain and panic blossomed, but no option remained other than to play, and to play the most daunting melodies my mind could conjure. Sluggish at first, as I felt the strings run their length against my bloody flesh, then rapidly accelerating, crescendos intertwining diminuendos, a dance of command and submission enacted upon the strings.” and we hear “I was, of course, accepted, hailed as a singular talent. Yet a suspicion took root in me. A realisation that the positions of “player” and “instrument” were not so firmly set with this hungering violin. It was a creature with needs and purpose of its own. The needs were simple enough. Blood. Flesh. Little enough at first. Skin shaved and cut and singing in pain. And the rewards were great, as with each performance, agony intermingled with melody, and my bleeding fingers lubricated those resonating strings. ”

So in order to play the instrument the narrator must give an offering of blood, or what might be more broadly an offering of some sort of pain. The musician soon comes to the grim realization that “The blood for its strings need not be your own.” “Only once did I play it without paying its price: wrapping my fingers in thick bandages so as to prevent its razored strings from cutting me. I had believed my playing would be lackluster, my performance uninspired. Yet the music that came from my instrument that day was somehow more beautiful than it had ever been before.” but then “They fell upon each other then, a dance of teeth and nails, of tearing and gouging. I watched as a gout-ridden man in emerald silk sucked the eyes from his son’s skull and crushed them in his jaws like ripe cherries. A demure young woman bedecked in gold peeled the cheeks from her betrothed as she sang to the music that I could not stop playing. It was only when a candelabra was upended and the room engulfed in flame that I was at last able to cease my recitation and make my escape. ”

So the violin seems to have abilities quite similar to that of Grifters Bone, who we know is aligned with The Slaughter and they can play a song that causes extreme violence. The narrator describes the violin as being a creature so it’s possible that when it’s hurting him he perceives it as an act of violence or maybe the act is a sort of metaphor for self harm or aiming your violence at yourself. The violin apparently sounds more beautiful than ever when it is drawing from the blood and violence of other people so it could be that the more pain and blood offered to the violin the more beautiful it sounds. This violin also might be a metaphor for the “tortured” artist trope. The idea that you must endure great pain or suffering to be a great artist.

A lot of people wonder about the relationship between Slaughter and music and while violence itself isn’t tied to rhythm or music certain institutions that enact violence are, most notably the military and various armies throught history. Whether it be their rhythmic marching or a drummer beating their instrument in order to keep the army moving in proper rhythm or even acting as a way to raise their morale to get them to continue fighting. Roles such as these have actually been around for quite a long time which could explain some of The Slaughter’s manifestations. At a certain point it would be unsurprising if the sound of a kind of drumming might make you assume an army is on its way.

“The Spirit of '76” by Archibald Willard

Phrases like “beat the drums of war" can refer to preparing for or inciting a war and Merrian-Webster defines a war drum as “a drum beaten as a summons to war or as an accompaniment to marching or fighting.”

In addition, some genres of music, such as metal or rock, are thought by some to be violent. There are stories of people making deals with the devil himself to get some sort of skill with an instrument. There are also rumors of genres such as metal being used to recruit the malleable youth to join the devil or commit acts of violence and / or murder (especially during the satanic panic in the U.S.).

As always, there are going to be other Entities that overlap with some of the fears. The Desolation overlaps a bit here, and the Entity can be so similar to The Slaughter that some people ask what the difference between the two actually is. The Desolation seems to be the fear of loss, usually but not always via destruction or damage, and The Slaughter is the fear of violence. Like all Entities they do overlap a bit and can have similar manifestations but to give a general idea- if you are afraid of your house burning down that’s usually more The Desolation and if you are afraid of being stabbed by someone that’s usually more The Slaughter. Of course, exceptions always occur and these things can be very muddled. For example, you might lose someone you care about to violence and violence often goes hand-in-hand with threats of destruction. You could also argue that the violin could be threatening to take your fingers in a sense and the musician does mention the fear of being sent back and basically losing what they have worked for.

The fact that the narrator seemingly cannot stop playing the violin could relate to The Web via being controlled by something and the fear of being in front of a watching audience that is judging you could relate to The Eye, but I still think that The Slaughter has the strongest precedent here.

We get confirmation from Sam that this statement is rather old when he says “Why on earth would something from the 18th century show up on Freddy?” I’ve mentioned earlier that we don’t actually know exactly when the Entities would have appeared in this universe (if these are the same set of Entities from TMA anyway). Time seems like it gets kind of weird with both The Change and multiversal travel but I wonder if some of these statements are being carried over from the previous universe via something like The Eye, statements, or accounts stored in / on things tied to The Entities? Could a statement like this simply be from the TMA universe or maybe the Entities just appeared earlier than we thought? Heck, I still can’t discount that this could be a different set of Entities even if I personally lean towards these at least paralleling or mirroring the Entities as we see them in TMA and their categories (and I would go as far as to posit that they are probably the same Entities from TMA).

The transcript says “SAM and ALICE have been listening despite themselves. GWEN is still working.” which I think ties into what I have mentioned previously about statements. They connect to something a lot of people don’t want to hear and they are shown wearing on the psyche of people like Martin when they listen to them. The Archivist is also described as having the job of being a “living archive of fear” and witnessing the terror and fear of others so I wonder if the people working at the O.I.A.R. have some comparable role.

Gwen then gets an email notification on her pc and we get

GWEN

Hmmmm?

She opens the attachment a recording plays. The audio quality is very

poor.

KLAUS

(video, begging) Please. Please, you don’t have to do this!

YOUNGER LENA

(video) We both know I do.

KLAUS

(video) /I I-could disappear again! They would never know!

GWEN

(Gasp) /Lena? What the hell?

Computer turns off.

This once again points to a theme The Eye has of randomly leaking information but it could also be The Eye or even Lena trying to stoke Gwen’s curiosity. Encouraging curiosity is something that The Eye and Jonah seem to like to do with curious people such as Jon, Tim, Melanie, and even Rosie. This also potentially parallels Jonah killing Jurgen Leitner after the man comes out of hiding. Something that might be more likely than we give credit for if we consider that the first statement of TMP seems to parallel the first statement of TMA with a story that sounds like an encounter with the Anglerfish.

Conclusion

I don’t really have much to say here but feel free to leave your corrections or thoughts and I may give my 2 cents or say if I agree or disagree with them.

#tmp #tma #the magnus archives #the magnus protocol #discussion

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kagejima · 2 years

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I can just imagine Swordsman!Nanami being Bodyguard!Sukuna's dance partner as he teaches this brute how to ballroom dance before the birthday ball.

hhehehehe FHAJDFHJDALKS I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

if you want to know more about Bodyguard!Sukuna, you can find the first few posts here and here and here!

If you are interested in them, we also have Swordsman!Nanami and Blacksmith!Osamu that we will gladly direct you to the posts / tell you more about them if you wanna know!!!!

Also Wendy and I were NOT expecting this royalty!au to get as popular as it has, so bear with us bc some of these might be out of order (like this one, the birthday ball already happened in the above posts), we've been yelling about the whole plot for like hours over the last couple of days lmaoooo.

Also also Bodyguard!Sukuna is also true form Sukuna big as a reminder!

more thoughts under the cut (female reader)

Bodyguard!Sukuna who has watched you day in and day out with your princess lessons. There's so many things you have to learn - world history, agriculture, politics, proper etiquette... It makes the poor man's head spin.

Bodyguard!Sukuna who can't deny that one of his favorite lessons for you is watching you learn how to dance in order to be ready for your birthday ball. You practically float around the floor with your instructor as he counts out the rhythm for you and praises you for being a natural.

Bodyguard!Sukuna who wishes that it was him holding on to your waist. Him holding your hand. Him being able to gaze into your eyes as you move across the floor.

Bodyguard!Sukuna who has the smallest smile cross his face as he imagines it.

Bodyguard!Sukuna who pays close attention to what the instructor is saying. Who pays close attention to the counts. Who pays close attention to each spin and gesture.

Bodyguard!Sukuna who feels his heart hammering in his chest as his friend, trainer, and confidant Swordsman Nanami raises an eyebrow at him the next day after he hears his request.

"You want me to teach you... how to dance?" Nanami repeats, folding his arms across his broad chest.

"Yes." Sukuna nods.

Blacksmith Osamu, the man who owns the forge they're standing in right now, can't help but start laughing.

"That'd be a sight..." Osamu grins as he wipes his hands with his rag, "It wouldn't look right. She's so much smaller than you, ya brute."

Sukuna ignores Osamu's jab, his eyes never leaving Nanami.

Nanami almost feels bad for the much larger man because Osamu is right. It will look funny to have a man who's size resembles more of a beast's than a human's dancing with the princess, but he sees the sincerity and hope in Sukuna's eyes as he stands before him.

Nanami sighs and stands up from the post he's leaning against.

"Very well. Did you learn anything from watching the lessons?"

Sukuna rambles about counts, something about "a... waltz, he said? I think he said waltz..."

In the short time that Sukuna is answering, Nanami realizes he knows nothing at all.

"Let's start with the basics."

Sukuna tries not to be embarrassed as Nanami tells him to put his hand on his waist and hold on to his hand. It's such a simple thing to do, but it still is awkward.

"You need to be more gentle..." Nanami gently chastises him when he notices how Sukuna's grip on his waist tightens, "The princess and I are not the same. You must think of her as porcelain. You must treat her with care. Imagine that I am her."

Osamu snickers over off to the side, and Sukuna glares at him.

But poor Sukuna becomes frustrated all too quickly with the steps, trying to lead, trying to remember the count in his head and not saying it out loud. He drops his hands from Nanami's as if they've burned him when Nanami corrects him for the fourth time.

He's never done this before. Who did he think he was, trying to learn this? He was never going to be able to dance with you at the ball anyways, so why even bother?

He groans in frustration and steps away from Nanami and to the edge of the forge, looking out into the town.

He looks up towards the castle and he knows what awaits him when he returns a few short hours from now. Everyone will be busy preparing for your ball on the eve of your birthday and for the arrival of your suitor.

Even you. You're probably dancing with your instructor right now, gliding around on the floor like an angel.

Sukuna is brought back to reality when he feels Nanami's hand reach up and touch his shoulder.

"Do you want to dance with her?"

Sukuna sees it in his head. Sees the way you would smile up at him, sees the way his hand would hold yours so firmly but gently as he guided you around the floor. He sees it all so clearly.

"Yes." Sukuna answers softly.

"Then you have to learn. Now come back. Let's try again."

#sukuna fluff #sukuna #🥰: bodyguard sukuna #⚔️: bodyguard!sukuna #🎤: northofneverland is recording vocals #FDAFHALSD WENDY IM GONNA HAVE TO MAKE A MASTERLIST FOR THIS AU ALONE AND IM DEF NOT MAD ABOUT IT AT ALL ITS ALL SO FUCKING GOOOOOOOOD #👑: rae's sukuna sundays #rae's sukuna sunday august 7 2022 #🥰: swordsman nanami #⚔��: swordsman!nanami #🥰: blacksmith osamu #⚔️: blacksmith!osamu

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rollercoasterwords · 1 year

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hey rae, i’m experiencing a bit of a moral dilemma (ish) bc like… i’ve always more or less had this view that its wrong on some level to like “police” people on the kind of media they are creating, even mainstream tbh and now… well… let’s just say a little bee flew in rather aggressively into my eardrums and it won’t stop buzzing about the moral implications and suddenly the pretty stable ground that i was standing on is slowing crumbling beneath my feet but like… that’s okay??? i’m accepting the fall bc i’m actually always thrilled to free fall. that is to say, i love the way things around me can make me question my own ideas of what i believe to be true sometimes like i love love love it. i love looking at smth ekth a new lens and more information and then yk, rebuilding thag ground with more stable material. anyways, sry i’m rambling, but you see, everything this bee was buzzing abt started to increasingly make more sense and like, i started to rly think about it in the way of like… evaluating the consequences right? like if a specific media trope has very real contributions to a stigma abt a certain group and manifests in the society in multiple ways, then rly, why can’t i condemn it? bc the way i used to look at it was like “well yes, the media is harmful, but like, i also don’t think we have the right to dictate other people’s liberties when it come to art”. but now… especially considering that this “art” is mainstream and like reaches millions of people, why tf not? bc when you rly put it on the scale, what has more weight, ppl being mad/annoyed that engaging with this is “bad” and they shouldn’t/ being limited in creating it or ppl suffering the real life implications of this. and to make myself a little clearer, the specific thing thag kinda made me realize this more was how media a lot of the times portrays certain mental illness in an overly negative and harmful way, and how in thrn, society discriminates against those individuals in part bc of the skewed perception thag media has portrayed about them. and i feel like this kinda of made me like… think more about this view that i used to defend strongly, and kinda of go, wait, hold up… and i’m still a little like… conflicted bc as much as like i say this, i don’t think there are any viable means of like combatting this issue bc at the end of the day, what creators for mainstream media want is money and these things get them money and so it’s never rly gonna stop, and i still am a little iffy on the idea thag it’s essentially like… an objective moral no no, but like i can see the other side more clearly and it’s just… man it’s so frustrating in a way. and like as much as some ppl may engage with their media critically and liek recognize these stereotypes and shit, a majority of ppl don’t and it’s so frustrating to see itttt. but yeah, idk im still like… gathering materials before fully building this floor, but like, what are your thoughts on this if any? (i’m literally going to everyone with this i an truly a menace, i need to talkkkk abt it like the way this brings me so much joy) (unfortunately i don’t have many ppl in my life that care or are willing to talk to me abt these things) (enter: rae)

hello!! interesting questions!! love that u are embracing the freefall of having a core belief challenged + opening urself to new ways of thinking rather than growing defensive + closing urself off!!

so, what i wanna start off by saying here is this: there is a very broad middle ground between "this art is bad and shouldn't exist/shouldn't be interacted with at all" versus "everyone should just create whatever they want with disregard for the consequences."

because different forms of art are going to be doing different things, reaching different audiences, and sending different messages. and there are plenty of ways that art/literature/media/etc can be harmful. for example, this recent open letter to the new york times is a great example of a critique on the way in which the nytimes' coverage of trans "issues" causes real-life harm to trans people. in this sort of instance, it's not okay for the nytimes to just continue writing as they have, however they want, because they have certain journalistic responsibilites which include not promoting/perpetuating harm against marginalized groups (not that they have an especially great track record in that regard, but i digress). part of critically evaluating media is evaluating whether that media has harmful real-life implications, and, if it does, figuring out whether/how to engage with that media in a way that does not perpetuate that harm.

so like--with the example you're talking about, portrayals of mental illness that contribute to stigma. part of evaluating those portrayals is going to start with asking what kind of media you're looking at, who it's reaching, and what it's trying to do. for example--a movie made by a large hollywood studio that's profiting off a stigmatizing portrayal of mental illness, reaching a broad audience, and contributing to widespread misconceptions is tangibly harmful, and it makes sense to vocally critique that portrayal or perhaps even encourage people not to engage with the movie at all, as it is profiting off something harmful. additionally, hollywood movies are invested in perpetuating a capitalist system such that they will often have an underlying goal of spreading messages/ideas that support that capitalist system, so there is much more to be wary of there in the intent of the media.

a fanfiction on the internet written by an individual that contains a stigmatizing portrayal of mental illness is something that is not accruing profit, not reaching a broad audience, and not harmful in the same way. an individual writing fanfiction on the internet is also not invested in perpetuating broader systems of capitalistic power in the same way a hollywood movie studio is, so the intent of their art is likely different. a better route here is probably to reach out to the individual, who probably wrote this portrayal out of ignorance and would most likely be open to educating themself and avoiding such portrayals in the future. this is a better response than trying to "cancel" the person completely, because it works to build community and has a much more direct impact in breaking the stigma around mental illness by educating an individual who previously internalized those stigmatized views.

when you're trying to critically evaluate a piece of media that contains something you view as potentially harmful, here are some important questions to ask:

who is making this? why are they making it? what is the stated goal of the creator(s) in creating this specific piece of media? are there any other goals that the creator is leaving unsaid?

who is the intended audience of this media? how large is that audience? in what ways is this media catered to appeal to that audience? what responsibilities does the creator hold towards that audience? will the audience response be monolithic, or is there room for varied impact amongst members of the same audience?

is this media a lecture or a conversation? is this media presenting a moral truth that i am expected to accept? or is it presenting moral questions and encouraging me to draw my own conclusions?

what role does profit play in the creation + distribution of this media? what systems of power is this media invested in upholding, if any? what institutions is this media invested in upholding, if any?

these are all questions which, depending on the answers, are going to change your evaluation on the media. this post kind of sums up what i mean, and i talk more here about when art becomes truly harmful. but also, i want to emphasize--engaging with media critically and coming to the conclusion that something is harmful is not the same thing as policing media, at least in my opinion. policing implies reinforcing set rules for how someone can or cannot create/engage with media, which doesn't allow for the necessary flexibility needed for actual critical thought. i think it's also important to note that policing typically says "if this media is Bad, you must destroy it/ignore it completely." but critically engaging with media means acknowledging harmful media when it exists, and analyzing why it exists + what it's trying to do. it also means acknowledging that not all media is going to fit cleanly into the harmful/harmless dichotomy. sometimes media will contain harmful stereotypes or stigmatizing portrayals in one sense, and really important representation or progressive ideas in another sense. other times, a portrayal that feels stigmatizing to one person will feel like representation to another. part of engaging critically with media means evaluating what it's doing as a whole and accounting for both the good and the bad. at the end of the day, we can't solve problems by refusing to engage with them at all, y'know?

#ask #ranting and raving

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