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moonlinos · 2 months

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It’s so tasty, come and chase me

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of food

♡ Word count: 2.3k

♡ Synopsis: It’s your first birthday with Hyunjin as your boyfriend, and he wants to give you the best day since you were born. He racks his brain, wondering what’s the perfect way to impress you, and ultimately settles on surprising you with a homemade birthday cake. That’s romantic, right? Too bad you accidentally ruin his plans in the best way possible.

♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon (happy birthday! 🩷) Title from Red Velvet’s Ice Cream Cake bc we all know that song ain’t about cake. I quickly wrote this to try and get out of my writing slump, and I think it worked lol so I’ll hopefully be able to start posting other longer stories and requests in a couple of weeks 🧚‍♀️

You and Hyunjin began dating exactly two hours after your birthday.

Being acquaintances for long due to being in the same friend group, he’d been a part of your birthday celebrations for a few years. But you were never really that close — he’d always been too shy to approach you, and you spent an awfully long time thinking he hated your guts. It was a drunken confession that made you both realize the mutual crush you had been hiding for far too long.

Hyunjin cursed himself inwardly for taking so long to properly ask you out. He sat with your friends and discussed birthday plans with you, then watched as you enjoyed your surprise party. He had a pout on his lips throughout the entire night, desperately wishing he could openly hold and kiss you in front of your friends. The silly secret you both had decided to keep from them until things were official between you drove him to the brink of insanity. You two were skirting around the big question for a while, and it wasn’t until Hyunjin’s veins were flowing with quite a lot of Soju that he finally mustered up the courage to do it.

Only he was too late — it was already 2 a.m, and no longer your birthday.

“You’ll have to put up with me for another year if you really wanna be my boyfriend on my birthday,” you told him with a grin.

Hyunjin was determined to make your first birthday together as a couple unforgettable, even through simple gestures. These two days were incredibly meaningful to him; the day you were born and the day he finally got to call you his, one after the other.

Too bad the universe seems to love conspiring against him.

He put on his best near-death voice and faked coughs over the phone, trying to convince you he was sick. You were understandably worried, but he assured you he would be fine after taking some medicine. He needed alone time to figure out how to bake a cake, and your presence would be a tempting distraction.

Hyunjin was halfway through frosting your cake for the third time when the sound of his door being unlocked made him jump.

Perhaps it wasn’t the universe’s animosity towards him after all, but rather his own stupidity for not remembering that you had the code to his door lock.

He stood there motionless, feeling like a teenager who had been caught doing something wrong, his hand clutching the spatula tightly as you eyed him with confusion. You raised a brow at him.

“Weren’t you dying?”

“Why are you here?” Hyunjin all but whines, and you close the door behind you with a chuckle.

“I’m here because you told me you were dying,” you explain. “Why the fuck are you frosting a cake?” He doesn’t answer, and after a beat and a half, you grasp the situation and your mouth falls open. “It’s for my birthday, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin drops the spatula on the counter with a loud clink. “No.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You grin at the sight before you. “That’s so cute.”

“It’s not for your birthday,” He insists, promptly removing his apron. “I lost a bet and owe Seungmin a cake.”

You roll your eyes. “Hyunjin, you’re a terrible liar.”

“Fine,” He grumbles, glaring at the lumpy, messy frosting spread on the cake. He was so sure he was nailing it this time, but the more he looks at it, the more it looks borderline inedible. “I wanted to surprise you, be like super boyfriend material and bake your birthday cake myself. Turns out I’m fucking awful at it.”

“It’s not that bad…” Your voice trails off, the telltale rise in pitch whenever you lie betraying you. Hyunjin shoots you a glance, narrowing his eyes. “Okay, so it is a little crooked, and the frosting is a bit clumpy but I can fix that—”

He cuts you off, drawing out your name with a pout. “No, I’m the one who’s supposed to make you a pretty cake. It’s your special day, I should be the one doing things for you.”

“It’s not my birthday till midnight,” you argue, tossing your bag onto the floor and gently nudging Hyunjin to the side, making room for you on his counter. “Let me help.”

You take the spatula in your hands, ignoring Hyunjin’s loud protests and trying your best to smooth out the thick layer of frosting Hyunjin had spread onto the cake. Your brows knit together in concentration as your boyfriend continues to grumble beside you, eventually moving his nagging to the counter behind you. You hear the water running and the clinking of dishes as you finally start making progress, before Hyunjin’s hands are gripping your hips and pushing you against the counter.

You furrow your brows, ready to complain about him disrupting you, but he’s pressing his lips to your neck before you can mutter out a word. Hyunjin’s breath as he mumbles against your skin tickles you, your body instinctively jolting, causing your hand to slip and mess up the frosting (again).

“Hyunjin,” you berate him, and his only response is to hum. “This frosting is already borderline unusable, if you—”

“Hey!” He snaps, and you can hear the pout on his voice. “Don’t insult my frosting.”

“Then stop disrupting me.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, his body pressing against yours.

“You’re the one who ruined my surprise,” he corrects you, “So if you wanna decorate this cake so badly, you’ll have to do it while I disrupt you,” he mimics your voice. You roll your eyes while a huff of amusement slips from your lips.

“Be my guest,” you shrug.

Hyunjin simply buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips curling into a grin against your skin and igniting a smile on your own face. You bite the inside of your cheek, turning your focus back to the disastrous cake. But your smile only widens at the sight of the decorations thrown around on the countertop; heart-shaped sprinkles, various candles and your favorite candies. The image of Hyunjin clumsily following a recipe, his pretty face dusted in flour, making frosting from scratch simply to make your birthday cake more special has your heart swelling with love.

But just as you spread more frosting on the cake, your concentration is shattered by the sudden touch of Hyunjin’s hand sliding under your skirt and into your panties.

“Excuse me?”

“I told you I was gonna disrupt you,” he shrugs, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder. “But I’m sure it won’t work. You’re too focused on the cake, anyway.”

You scoff. Hyunjin really is such a menace when he wants to be — no wonder you spent such a long time thinking he hated you. Little did you know that behind his teasing and cold exterior lay such a sweet and sensitive man.

He remained still for a while, his hand nonchalantly cupping your cunt while he watched you try your best to make the cake look presentable.

“You missed a spot,” he points out, one single finger gliding along your folds. You hiss.

“Fuck off.”

Hyunjin chuckles, the digit now teasing your already slick entrance. You wait for a minute, then two, then three, but he remains still. Tightening your hold on the spatula, you buck your hips toward his hand, willing him to do something.

But he doesn’t, resting his chin on your shoulder with a lazy sigh instead.

“Is this your best attempt at disrupting me?”

He hums. “Focus on the cake, baby. Weren’t you so excited about fixing it?”

You can tell he is undoubtedly a bit upset at you. This cake was his birthday surprise to you, after all. You had essentially fucked it up, taking over the task without him even asking you for help.

So you nod slowly, turning your face to shoot him a small smile. “Can you help me? It’ll be better if we do it together.”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, and his finger finally pushes into you, your walls immediately clenching around it.

“I’d love to help you.”

With his other hand, Hyunjin scrambles with the sprinkles packet before finally tearing it open. Cursing under his breath, he watches some of the red and pink hearts escape from the packaging and scatter across the counter. You’re ready to tease him, but a moan swallows your voice as his finger curls inside you, pressing against the spot that has you almost dropping the spatula onto the cake.

Your hands grip the counter as another finger slips inside of you, then a third, all while Hyunjin casually dusts a handful of sprinkles over the white frosting. You could feel yourself leaking around his fingers, the heel of his palm grazing over your clit, and your vision goes slightly blurry watching how the heart shapes cascade from his hand onto the cake.

“I think those candies would look nice with the sprinkles, don’t you think?” Hyunjin asks, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear, causing goosebumps to ripple across your entire body. You simply nod, too focused on the way his fingers stretch you, igniting a wildfire inside your chest with each pump of his wrist. “Could you grab the bag for me, baby?”

You nod and mindlessly reach out in front of you, until your eyes land on the bag sitting across the counter, just barely out of reach. You stretch out your fingers, but Hyunjin circles your waist with his left arm and pulls you flush against his body before you can get a hold of it.

“Hyunjin,” you whine, feeling the warmth of his chest as it rumbles against your back with a chuckle.

“Grab the bag for me, hm?”

You let out a shuddering breath and reach out toward the candy package, your body bending over the marble counter, the thick outline of Hyunjin’s cock pressing against your ass. As soon as your trembling fingers wrap around the bag, his hand leaves your cunt and pushes your soaked panties to the side.

He slides his length along your folds, hovering over your body, the swollen head of his cock catching against your clit evoking a heavy sigh from your lips.

“Go on,” Hyunjin prompts, “Let’s finish decorating your cake.”

Clumsily, you pull yourself up, forearms resting against the counter as you tear the bag open. With shaky hands, you slowly tip the bag over, lightly sprinkling the colorful candies across the cake. Until Hyunjin rolls his hips forward, plunging into you. Your breath catches in your throat as he fills you with his thick length, pumping into you in full force, causing your body to writhe in his arms and sending candies flying out of the bag, scattering across the cake and countertop.

“Fuck, Hyunjin,” you grunt when his hand slides down your body to trace circles around your swollen clit. “The ca- the fucking cake.”

Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh before pressing his lips to your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth, each thrust of his hips slamming your body against the counter. Your eyes flutter closed, a haze of lust wrapping around you while your climax ripples through your body. Hyunjin shudders as your cunt clenches around him, squeezing as he hastily rams into you, his grip on your waist tightening with each stroke.

“Gonna come,” he rasps in your ear, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging your head back to look at him, his eyes completely clouded over. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you whimper, barely registering the way your fingers graze across the forgotten cake when you feel his cock twitch at your words. He mutters a string of curses through clenched teeth before flooding you with his warmth.

You slowly catch your breaths, Hyunjin pressing light kisses across your face with a contented hum as his cock slowly softens inside of you.

And then both your eyes land on the cake.

Somehow, the sprinkles melted, leaving behind a garish kaleidoscope of colors, and the candies adorned more of Hyunjin’s counter than the cake itself. The already sloppy-looking cake had three lines running across it, and the sticky white frosting clinging to your fingertips serves as undeniable evidence of your guilt. You grimace, mentally bracing yourself for the disappointed look in Hyunjin’s eyes.

Instead, his loud laughter you love so much echoes in your ears.

“That’s so fucking ugly,” he slurs between giggles.

You frown, turning to look at him, watching tears gather in his lashes as his laughter slowly fades away. He presses a kiss to your agape lips, wrapping both arms around your body before resting his forehead against yours.

“I love it,” he assures you after taking in your befuddled expression. “We made it together. Plus, we had a lot of fun doing it, yeah?” He grins before crashing his lips against yours again.

Your birthday party was the same as it has been for a couple of years; just you and your friend group gathered around your apartment’s rooftop. Except this year, you had the pleasure of watching people’s bewildered looks as they glanced at your birthday cake, proudly displayed on a plastic folding table.

“The fuck is that cake?” Jeongin asked, and Hyunjin burst out laughing as soon as the words left your friend’s lips.

After singing happy birthday, you were surprised to find that the cake — although an assault on the eyes — tasted quite good. You were quick to praise Hyunjin, who sheepishly admitted to using a store-bought box cake mix.

A while later, you two discreetly escaped the chatter and laughter from your friends. While you watched the stars, Hyunjin’s attention was fixated on the passing seconds on his phone. He counted down from five, and at the stroke of midnight, he pressed his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss.

“Happy one year together,” he whispered against your lips.

“Congratulations for putting up with me,” you beamed, and Hyunjin feigned an exasperated sigh, his lips curling into a grin.

“Can’t believe I’ll have to go through that again if I want to be your boyfriend on your birthday next year.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent, @redstayrosie, @binniesbabygirl, @pynchkilledme

#stray kids #hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin x you #stray kids smut #skz #hyunjin fluff

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hollybell51 · 1 year

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Last night on Earth

^don't mind me going absolutely feral over this gif

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Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005), s05e03 "free to be you and me"

Word count: 6.4K

Summary: following the hooker failure, you feel that sitting alone in a shitty abandoned house is not the best way to spend one's last night on Earth. Cas seems to agree with you.

Content: smut! Yay! First kisses, first time, making out, handjobs, hickeys, penetrative sex, safe sex (yay!), cowgirl, mutual masturbation, fingering, gags? if you squint? maybe? like a hand over the mouth. Discussions of sex work and sex workers (I'm not commenting on anything, it's just there as dialogue due to the nature of the episode, and all dialogue/internal monologue regarding the topic is purely for the furtherment of the plot). Talking during sex, Cas is loud. Sex on a couch, spooning, almost-love-confessions ("like-confessions"). Very light comment on body image, some very vague descriptions of scars (reader is a hunter). Cas is just Cas and I love him for it. He's also a virgin. Dean's probably a warning but I adore him.

Notes: Heyyyy how's it going? One day into my holidays and I churn out this bad boy. Couldn't get the idea out of my head, and hey, I'm a sucker for virgin angels. This show is rapidly taking over my whole life lmao.

It's also been a while so I just thought I'd remind people of the taglist form, and the existence of my AO3 (if you wanna read my stuff there for whatever reason). Anyways enjoy, stay safe out there xx

“That was quick,” you called as the door creaked open, Dean’s low chuckle echoing through the hallway. You closed the book you’d been reading – a shitty paperback you’d picked out of a bargain bin – and watched as the other hunter dropped his jacket onto a rusted dining chair. You’d expected them to be gone for a few hours, hence your foray into the realms of “downtime”, but it had barely been one since they’d left, Dean throwing an obscenely enthusiastic wink your way as he shoved an apprehensive looking Cas out to enjoy his last night on Earth.

“We had to wrap it up pretty fast.” Dean glanced over his shoulder at Cas, laughter still clinging to his face. You hadn’t seen him look that happy in ages, not for this long. Well, that was something at least.

You’d had your doubts about the whole idea from the moment Dean had mentioned it. Sure, sex was sex. It was something that could be pretty darn nice and that you were glad for in your life, but you weren’t sure if Dean fully grasped that it was never the same with a hooker. It would never feel as good, it would never be meaningful, it would be a service purchased from a provider. A business transaction. That wasn’t any way to experience it for the first time, in your opinion.

“Good time not a long time, then?” you asked mildly.

“Would you say that, Cas?”

The angel stiffened, hands shoved into the pockets of his trench coat.

You wrinkled your nose, suddenly wondering if you should feel bad. “Bad time?”

Dean snorted. “I’m turning in. You tell (Y/N) about it, she’ll give you a pat on the back and tell you it’s alright. And don’t look so… grief stricken.”

“G’night,” you waved to his retreating back, then turned back to Cas. “Really bad time?”

He really did look grief stricken, standing stock still in the dimness. Even his hair looked droopier than usual, and you almost got out of your seat just to push it off his face. You settled for putting your book down and leaning forward.

“She ran away,” he said after a moment. “I think I scared her.”

“Geez,” you frowned. “How’d you scare a hooker?”

He shrugged. “I told her it wasn’t her fault that her father Gene ran off.” Then, as if it explained everything; “He hated his job at the post office.”

You laughed, but stopped quickly. “Oh, Cas. You know the whole–”

“The whole industry is run on absent fathers, I know.” He sighed. “Dean found it hilarious.”

This time, you did get up, crossing the room to pat his shoulder. You knew Dean wouldn’t have meant anything by it, wouldn’t have been laughing at Cas. Still, a pang of what was almost pity shot through you. It wasn’t about the sex, not really, as much as Dean played that aspect up. It was more all the coulds that never would. Cas wasn’t human, as much as he could pass it off (mostly), but there were so many things that he wasn’t going to get to try now. You just didn’t understand how he could so casually volunteer to die at the drop of a hat. It was either incredibly selfless, or incredibly selfish. Or maybe just stupid.

But no, Cas wasn’t stupid. He was razor sharp, a soldier of God, even if you poked fun at him when he didn’t understand your and Dean’s pop-culture reference infused slang. It had only been the last time you’d seen him that you’d vowed to make him sit through all the Star Wars movies, something you hadn’t realised until afterwards had sounded a lot like a “movie and chill” proposal. Luckily, he wouldn’t have picked up on that. Just like he wouldn’t have picked up – like Dean had – the moments where you caught yourself watching him, or the smiles that were just too damned determined to break out on your face when he showed up – either in the real world or in your mind. And thank the heavens nobody but you noticed the tiny flurries of butterflies in your stomach you’d noticed increasingly often when he was around, the surges of warmth that would sneak up and rush over you unexpectedly when you thought of him, the tingles that flooded your skin when he stood that little bit too close to you.

Which, when you thought about it, was maybe contributing to the ounce of vindication you were feeling regarding the hooker failure. It wasn’t all the “I told you so” type of satisfaction, anyway, and you weren’t too proud to admit when you liked someone.

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him now, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You’re giving me a pat on the back and telling me it’s alright,” he sighed, almost mournfully. “Dean said–”

You reached up, pressing a finger to his lips and shaking your head. “You wanna know something?”

He nodded, brows furrowed. He hadn’t drawn back, you noticed.

“It doesn’t matter how much sex Dean has,” you whispered, hand still floating close by his face. “I wouldn’t take a damn letter of his advice in that department.”

“Why not?” His breath tickled your skin, and suddenly you realised just how close you were standing.

You shrugged, dispelling the shiver that had run up your spine. “I just know if a dude came onto me how he comes onto chicks, I’d kick him in the balls.”

“I’ll make a point to not come onto you like he does, in that case.”

It took a moment – past the words “like he does”, not that he wouldn’t come onto you full stop, but like Dean does – for the fact that it was a joke to sink in, then you smiled. Maybe there was, or had been, hope for him yet. You took a breath, turning the words over in your mind. It was now or never, you supposed.

“I want you to know,” you said carefully, “if you die–”

“When. Tomorrow, when I die.”

“Uh, yeah.” You swallowed. How could he be so matter of fact about it? How could he just say it like that? It didn’t matter, you supposed. Whether he said it or didn’t, it wasn’t going to change the fact that it was happening.

“When I die…” he prompted when you were silent.

“I want you to know that I liked you,” you said simply, then shrugged. “I think I was on the way to really liking you.”

He frowned, and for a moment you thought you’d made a massive mistake. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I don’t mind. I know I’m… a dick.”

“Jesus, Cas,” you snorted. “Guess we say that a bit too much, don’t we?”

“Maybe.”

“And we don’t say ‘thank you’ enough.”

He shook his head, still holding your hand. “You don’t have to do this,” he repeated.

“It’s not about that. Not all of it, anyway.” You smiled, glancing at your hand where it met his. It looked big, wrapped around your fingers, and it fitted painfully well. “But, you know, if it’s your last night on Earth…” You looked up, wiggling your eyebrows. You could play it off as a joke if you needed to, you weren’t too far in yet.

That familiar almost-smile you’d come to look for danced over his lips. “You pity me, dying a virgin? Dying,” he added. “A virgin.”

You laughed. “I don’t… pity you. Not exactly. Not because you’re gonna die a virgin, and definitely not because you’re a virgin.”

“Because I scared away a prostitute?”

“Her loss,” you laughed. “And anyway, if it’s your first and last time, it’d be nice to… y’know… feel good.”

He frowned. “Surely a prostitute would know how to do that?”

“Maybe the technicalities,” you shrugged, “but there’s more to it than that. There’s feelings, y’know?”

“Feelings?”

Again, you shrugged, suddenly self conscious. What were you doing? “Two way street kind of thing,” you explained lamely. “Not just someone you want, but someone who wants you. Not just your money.” You were acutely aware of the unspoken words floating beneath the casual sentence. I want you. It could be me.

A pause, where his eyes seemed to bore into your soul. He had a knack for that, you’d noticed. Sometimes you felt like he could see right to the very core of your being. In the dimness, they looked even more startlingly blue than usual. He was so close, you could almost count his eyelashes, almost feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath the coat, jacket, shirt, tie…

“When it’s…” He paused, his tongue darting over his lips. God, his lips. “Someone you want.”

“Mhm.”

“Someone who wants you.”

“Mhm.”

“Not just your money.”

You hadn’t taken your eyes off his mouth through the whole exchange, and your voice, when you asked, sounded softer than you’d meant it to, breathy and faint to your own ears. “Do you want me, Cas? Last night on Earth, and all.”

The corner of his mouth curled up, brows twitching into a thoughtful frown. No, you thought, not quite a frown. Something else, more curious than confused. Almost quizzical. “I think…” He paused, drawing breath. “I think I do.”

“Ok,” you smiled, ignoring the butterfly rampage taking place in your stomach. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen in real life. Not your life, anyway, even if it was Cas’s last night on Earth. It didn’t exist outside the pages of those shitty paperbacks.

“Do you want me?” Cas asked.

“Mhm.” It was all you could manage, really. Then you were stretching up the last few inches between your face and his, pressing your lips gently against his own.

He was perfectly still for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, almost three. Then his hand tightened around yours and he pulled you closer, trench coat rustling where your chest met it. He kissed you the way you remembered the first boy who’d ever kissed you – a boy in your year level at school, at a party, playing spin the bottle no less – had kissed you. The want was all there, the enthusiasm and anticipation and the only half-conscious desire for more. His lips remained shut, but you could feel in it that he knew it wasn’t quite right.

You pulled away briefly, just enough to raise a hand to his mouth and run your thumb over his bottom lip. “Like this,” you murmured, pushing just enough to part his lips. Then your hands were in his hair and you were pulling him down to you, and this time it was perfect.

He made a little sound of pleasure as your tongue slipped beside his, stroking, caressing, gently as you could. Without any guidance, his hand had found the cloth-shielded contours of your breast, tracing the outline with a sort of awe. His fingers ran along the neckline of your top, dipping under the material, curving around your bare shoulder, exploratory and cautious.

You let him explore you, his hands mapping out every curve he could touch, tongue darting into every uncharted depth he could find, tasting and learning and discovering parts of you you hadn’t guessed could be felt like this through just a kiss. Your mind spiralled as his hand eased under your shirt, cool fingers tickling the skin of your hip. He squeezed gently, pulling you against him harder, and you gave in completely. You weren’t sure if it was what he had been going for, but when you pushed your pelvis against his he gasped; a quiet, shuddering little sound that went straight to your panties.

“Ok?” you breathed between kisses, then, at his nod, you did it again.

His voice was strangled when he said your name, the pads of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist. Oh Cas, you thought. A rush of affection washed over you at how eager he was, where just an hour before he’d been being literally pushed out the door by Dean, looking as terrified as you’d ever seen him at the prospect of sex. Now he was kissing you hungrily, kneading at your skin, inching your shirt up off your torso, his feet at risk of tangling with yours as he walked you backwards. Not to mention the increasingly noticeable bulge pressed against you.

“Clothes off,” you breathed, already undoing his tie. “On the couch.”

He paused, then he was shrugging off the trench coat, the blazer following suit – no pun intended – and landing with a soft rustling thump on the floor. You stepped back, just a little, as he deftly unfastened the buttons of his shirt, drinking in every inch of skin like a kid in a lolly shop. Fuck, maybe you had the hots for him even worse than you’d thought.

“Are you going to undress too?” The question was mild, matter of fact, but something in the way Cas had paused midway through relieving himself of his pants and was watching you, hands still on the belt buckle, made you stomach flip.

You cleared your throat, but your voice still came out too low, too husky. “Sure.”

His gaze didn’t leave you for an instant – apart from when he kicked his discarded trousers aside – as you pulled your shirt the rest of the way over your head, slid your jeans as gracefully as you could down your legs. You shivered slightly in the cool night air, acutely aware of your hunter’s body.

Cas’s eyes widened, scanning over you and taking in every inch of your skin. It wasn’t perfect, you were aware of that. It wasn’t like a hooker’s body, it carried you around as you fought monsters, and was littered with the proof of said monster fights. You wondered if Cas had seen other – normal – human bodies like this, if he’d find the painfully obvious reminders of your mortality somehow repellent. You suddenly felt very, very small and very, very human.

“Sorry about… y’know…” You shrugged, patting your thigh awkwardly. “The meatsack’s a little dinged up. Most people don’t look like this.”

“Don’t look like what?” he frowned, finally looking back at your face.

You shrugged again, poking a long white scar over your side. The first werewolf you’d ever come face to face with, and nearly the last. “Scarred. At least not as much as I am,” you added.

A shiver shot up your spine as Cas settled his hands on your bare waist, fingers running over the most noticeable marks. “Don’t apologise,” he said softly. “You’re human, and you spend your days killing monsters. It would be more disturbing if you were unblemished.”

You laughed at that, a small breathy sound. “You think I’m disturbing?”

He smiled faintly. “You’re not so bad.”

You felt your own mouth curve, matching his. “Neither are you.”

He leaned down, his lips meeting yours once more. This kiss was softer, more intimate, maybe a little too intimate. You were vaguely aware of the couch behind you. Before your knees knocked against its side, you broke away – a difficult task, given that Cas chased your lips like a lab rat after cheese – and spun, laying your hands firmly on his chest.

“Couch,” you muttered, giving a gentle push.

He pulled you with him as he sat down, his hands running down over your hips, your thighs, back up again to your waist. He watched you carefully as his touch slid up the centre of your torso, over your bra, lingering momentarily on the anti-possession sigil tattooed over your heart before he moved on, across the line of your ribs. Unbidden, the memory of the last time he’d touched you there sprang to mind; the sharp, burning pain and throbbing after-ache of the Enochian sigils being literally carved into your bones.

“I can see them,” he whispered, as if he’d read your mind. “The sigils.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How do they look?”

“Foreign,” he said after a moment. “They don’t belong.”

You shrugged, unsure how to respond to that. Sure, the sigils weren’t part of you, and you didn’t exactly know how you felt about angel writing being carved into your ribcage, but there was also something reassuring about knowing it was there, knowing you carried that kind of magic with you. In you.

Cas’s eyes lifted from your body, fixing on your own. “Can you feel them?” he inquired.

You shook your head. “Not really. Not physically. But I know they’re there.”

“Perhaps I should have asked,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s your body, after all.”

“No,” you smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I kinda like the idea of you scribbling on me. Bone graffiti.”

“Bone graffiti?”

You felt the smile grow, nodding. “Besides,” you added, “I’ll always have a little bit of you, even after you're gone. Like a… souvenir.”

“Oh,” was all he said. You supposed people were right about impending death making people sappier. But still, what you said was true. Your own ribs had become a kind of lucky charm, a talisman, a locket of sorts.

You dragged yourself out of that line of thinking before you went any further, turning your attention back to the angel currently underneath you on the couch. Underneath you and very shirtless. You’d placed your own hands on his chest in an attempt to not fall over on top of him, and now you let yourself touch him – really touch him. His chest heaved under your fingers as you swept over him, a tiny, strangled noise falling from his lips.

“Alright?” you asked, pausing for a moment.

He nodded, shifting slightly under you. “It’s good,” he said softly.

“Keep going?”

Again, a nod. Cautiously, gently, you spread your fingers over his chest. His heart beat fast, thudding frantically as you moved your other hand lower, down the centre of his torso, following the contours of his lithe muscles. You reached the waistband of his underpants, pausing.

“Can I?” you asked, your hand hovering over his barely concealed erection.

“Yes,” he whispered, tongue darting over his lips. His eyes flicked from your face to your hand, back to your face again.

You smiled as you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his underwear. His dick was hot to the touch, hard and already damp at the tip. “You ever touched yourself?” you asked as you withdrew your hand, spitting into your palm.

Cas’s breath hitched. “Once.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, licking his lips again. “Dean said I wasn’t supposed to talk about it.”

“Yeah, well…” You smiled again, wrapping your fingers around his cock and stroking languidly. “You can tell me.”

He gave a sort of half gasp, half moan, his grip tightening on your thigh. “I found Dean’s magazine,” he confessed. “The one with the women, not the cars.”

“Mhm?” You kept your voice mild, focussing on the steady motion of your arm and wrist, your fingers sliding effortlessly over him. You could almost see Cas flipping through the pages of one of those god-awful porn mags Dean insisted on carting around, picture his confused little head-tilt and his frown as he looked through the pictures, his hand creeping to where yours was now, his much larger fingers circling–

“It was uncomfortable,” he continued, jerking you back to the present. “Too hot. I really just wanted it to go away.”

“And did it?”

“Not until I– oh!” He broke off as your thumb slid over the leaking head of his cock, fingers digging into your thigh.

You fought off the surge of heat the sound sent shooting through you, watching his slightly parted lips, his wide eyes. “Did you cum?” you asked evenly.

“Yes,” he panted, hips twitching up slightly. “Oh, (Y/N), yes–”

“Yes, you did cum?”

“Yes, yes I did.”

“Was it good?”

Another soft moan, then he smiled. “Not as good as this.”

Maybe it was the praise, maybe the moan, maybe the smile. Either way, the words went straight to your panties. You ignored it, stopping yourself from grinding against him with willpower that would have impressed Jesus. Although, you weren’t sure how he would have felt about you fucking a literal angel.

You leant forward, kissing his lips gently, then his jaw, then his neck, then his chest. You kept going, tracing a path inexorably downwards, shuffling backwards to straddle his thigh as he shifted with you, now splayed along the couch lengthways.

“Help me out,” you muttered, your hand moving beside your face as you attempted to pull his underwear off. Obediently, he lifted his hips and kicked them aside, the muscles of his stomach twitching as you placed a kiss on the junction of his hip. And holy shit, you could have just watched his torso moving like that forever. You kissed his hip again, sucking gently at the spot, licking over the mark you conjured. Then you added another beside it, and another, and another. A little belt of hickeys across his pelvis.

“Do you, hm, touch yourself too?” he asked, breathless and raw.

“Fuck, Cas.” You paused where you’d been about to kiss the base of his cock, raising your eyes to his. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell again, the skin almost glowing in the dim light.

He frowned. “Am I not supposed to ask that?”

“You can ask me anything you want,” you assured him, kissing the little trail of hair below his belly button. “And yeah, I do.”

“Does it feel good?”

You smiled. “Yeah.”

“Do you…” He paused, searching for the words. “Do you want to do it now?”

“This is about you,” you said softly, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I want you to feel good too.”

You sat up, studying him. There was nothing by sincerity in his eyes, the genuine desire – and desire there was – for you to enjoy yourself. And why shouldn’t you indulge that? You were having a great time as it was, and there was no denying the throbbing ache that had grown exponentially between your legs.

“You want me to touch myself?” you asked, double checking.

He nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Ok.” You shed your own underpants, shivering as the cool air came in contact with your wetness. Slowly, you reached down and ran your finger over your clit, your breath hitching in your chest. You repeated the action, your hand moving further down to circle your entrance, slick gathering on your fingers. You’d done this countless times before, and you weren’t ashamed of it. Masturbation was natural, it was a perfectly normal perfectly human thing to do. This, however was different. You’d never had an audience before, never had anyone watch you with such rapt wonder and awe.

Cas’s eyes flicked down to your bra, then back to your face. A question, almost a request.

“Off?” you asked, already reaching behind your back. He nodded, watching carefully as you shed the garment and cast it aside to join the pile of clothes on the floor. Slowly, reverently, he stretched up and kissed your breast, his hand leaving its place on your hip to trace over the other one.

A shiver ran down your spine and you bit down on your lip, attempting futilely to stifle your moan. Absently, your hand resumed its place between your thighs as Cas’s hand left your chest and found its way to his cock. You’d never in a million years have thought you’d be where you were now; touching yourself on top of an angel touching himself while he did his best to turn your chest into one giant hickey. You were hardly complaining.

Something rustled in the next room over, and you both froze. Fuck, you thought. Dean was still (hopefully) asleep, only the wall and the hastily closed door to that room barring him from hearing you. Cas seemed to have had exactly the same thought, his head tilted slightly as he listened, his breath raising goosebumps on the spit-damp skin of your chest. There was another rustle, then a quiet snort, then nothing. He hadn’t woken, then.

“We gotta be quiet,” you whispered. You shifted, biting back another moan. “Ok?”

“Ok,” Cas nodded. He pressed his lips firmly together, eyes flicking down to where your hand disappeared between your legs. You hissed as you resumed your movement, acutely aware of every possible sound you or Cas made, ears pricked for any other disturbance from nextdoor.

Cas’s free hand was still resting on your thigh, firmly holding you in place on top of himself. His wrist brushed your own with every stroke of his cock, the skin over his stomach and chest twitching ever so slightly. His own thigh tensed as he thrust into his hand, something that you could only describe as a whimper falling from his lips. Heat surged over you, your mind awash with desire. If only that hooker knew what she was missing.

“Sorry,” he muttered almost immediately, eyes darting towards the door.

“‘Salright,” you replied, swallowing hard. Being quiet was a much more difficult task than you’d anticipated, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the possibility of being caught just a little bit. You grunted softly as your finger brushed over a particularly sensitive spot, the familiar rhythm and movements working just as well as ever, and even better when you had Cas to look at. Not to mention the warmth of his mouth where it occasionally found your breasts again.

But you wanted more, you needed more. The same part of you that was electrified by your own touch craved his, especially when his beautiful hands were right there and his eyes were still fixed on you like you were the centre of the universe, his own movements becoming faster and more frantic, chest heaving.

You paused, much as it pained you. “Do you wanna go further?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

Gently, you laid your hand over his and peeled it away from his cock. Wriggling forwards a little, you finally – finally – rocked your hips over his, revelling in the hot hardness of him against your slick. His mouth fell open, fingers tightening on your own.

“Here, Cas. I want you inside me, wanna fuck you properly.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” he sighed, his own hips matching your movement.

“Will you let me? Let me fuck you?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Yes, of course.”

You smiled. “Ok, one second.” You reached over the side of the couch, digging through the pockets of your jeans until you found your wallet – and the little foil package inside it.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked as you tore it open and set the latex atop his dick.

“It’s a condom,” you explained. “So I don’t get pregnant. No offence,” you grinned, “but I don’t really wanna have your babies any time soon.”

“Oh.” He swallowed, processing. “That’s… understandable.”

“All good?” At his nod, you slid the condom the rest of the way down, spitting into your hand once more and resuming your earlier ministrations. “It feels a little different, I know,” you whispered as you moved to grind against him once more.

“It’s still good,” he assured you, placing his hands gently on your hips.

You smiled. “Ready?”

“Yes.” The word was a breath, nothing more, but it was all you needed. Carefully, you lined him up and sank down, watching his face carefully. His eyes widened, his fingers digging into your flesh slightly as a deep groan reverberated through the space between you.

“Gotta be quiet,” you reminded him, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked. “Don’t wanna wake Dean up, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoed, “quiet.”

You leaned forwards and placed a soft kiss on his lips, rocking your hips over his. He was everything you’d imagined and so much more. It was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. You wanted to go back in time and kick your past self for having waited this long.

“God, Cas,” you sighed. “Oh God.”

His brows pinched together slightly, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stretched up and captured your lips with his, moving down over your jaw to your neck, sucking gently just as you’d done to the skin of his hip. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close against you as you lifted and lowered your hips, a faint whine somehow slipping from your lips despite your best efforts.

“Is this, hm, ok?” he asked, his usually gravelly voice made even more so.

“Fuck,” you gasped as his hand came to rest on your ass, kneading at the soft flesh, moving up over the front of your hips where your leg met the rest of your body. “So good, Cas.”

“You’re so good,” he murmured, guiding your movements gently. He thrust into you, his hips meeting yours halfway, stomach muscles flexing.

“Let me,” you said, pushing him backwards into the couch cushions. “You relax, yeah? I’ve got it. I’ve got you.”

He nodded, head tipping back as you bounced on his dick, the rough fabric of the cushion beneath you scratching at your knees. Fumbling slightly, your hands found purchase on his chest and you locked your elbows in an odd sort of imitation of CPR. If CPR was done from the front rather than the side, you supposed, but you weren’t exactly doing any resuscitation.

His chest heaved under your touch, another low groan seeming to echo in the otherwise stillness of the night. The tiny part of your brain that wasn’t totally consumed with the wonderful pleasure-ache of his cock hitting deep inside you and the burn of your thighs was torn between telling him to be quiet and just listening to him, but then he was licking his lips again and his mouth was falling open and you were lost.

“(Y/N),” he panted, his eyes fixed on your face. “Oh, (Y/N), oh my–”

“Alright?” you asked, biting back a moan as you found a particularly good angle.

“Yes, yes, of course. It’s, hm, so good.” He glanced momentarily down at where your body met his, another groan rumbling in his chest.

“Sh–” you whispered, half tempted to press your hand over his mouth. Or maybe your own, given the struggle you were facing to remain quiet yourself.

“Sorry, sorry I–”

You cut him off quickly. “It’s alright Cas, you’re fine. Just, fuck–”

“(Y/N),” he panted, the muscles of his arms and stomach flexing as his fingers gripped the couch cushion, luminescent in the dimness. Again, his eyes flicked downwards, this time to the soft mound of flesh currently on display.

You smiled, reaching down to take his hand, drawing it up to rest over your pelvis. His skin was warmer than you’d ever felt it, faintly clammy and God his hand was big under your own. You couldn’t count the number of times you’d caught yourself picturing his hands in this kind of context, and you didn’t want to try. His fingers splayed over your skin, moving with you, covering the whole space below your naval.

“That’s where you are,” you panted. “That’s where I can feel you, Cas, right there.”

A small, strained noise you could only describe as a whine. “Is it, ah, good? Do you like it? Do you like feeling… me?”

“Fuck,” you sighed. “Yeah, sure do, Cas. Do you like feeling me?”

He smiled, biting down hard on his lower lip. “Of course. I like it immensely.”

You felt yourself clench at his words, and this time you were unable to restrain the downright pornographic moan that tore from your throat. Any other time, you might have been embarrassed, but Cas seemed to like it. Pressing your lips firmly together, you glanced hastily towards the other room, but as far as you could tell there was no disturbance.

“(Y/N), oh, (Y/N), I don’t think—” He swallowed hard, eyes wide and back on your face.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t— I don’t think I can be quiet, (Y/N) I—”

Affection bloomed alongside the desire in your gut, and you had half a mind to tell him it was alright, he didn’t even have to worry about being quiet at all. It wasn’t like you didn’t love the noises he was making. But Dean was only one room over, and you didn’t want to wake him.

“You can, Cas,” you breathed, “you can. You’re doing so well already, we just gotta— fuck.”

He’d bucked his hips up into you, the movement jolting the steady knot of pleasure forming low in your stomach. He was close, you could see it as much as hear it, but the thought of the thin walls and your friend sleeping in the next room over had taken root more firmly in your mind now.

“It’s so much,” Cas gasped. “Oh, oh, (Y/N) it’s so much—”

You managed a smile, slowing down your movements a little. “I know,” you said softly. “You’re ok, yeah?”

He nodded frantically. “Hm, yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Keep going, please—”

Another soft moan slipped from your mouth, Cas’s answering groan enough to make your legs shake. It was too loud, and any other time you’d have soaked up his praises and curses and everything, but not now. After a moment’s hesitation, you clamped your hand firmly over his mouth, sh-ing him gently. If possible, his eyes widened even further and he groaned against your skin.

“Alright?” you breathed.

Another frantic nod, an almost-whimper as your grip firmed up. Well I’ll be damned, you thought vaguely. Who’d have guessed he was into that?

You felt him shiver all over as you continued to rock your hips over his, his hand where it rested on your hip tightening. You wondered if you’d have finger-shaped bruises later. It didn’t matter, you told yourself as he moaned again, his stomach muscles tensing, something that could have been your name squashed under your hand.

“Sh, shh!” you gasped. Between holy shit I’m so close and holy shit he’s so close, the thought that Dean was right there and would hear you was still rooted in your mind. “Cas, sh, Dean’s right– ah, fuck, Dean’s–”

You broke off as Cas’s chest heaved, his hips bucking up into you once more. His mouth had fallen open under your hand and he was gasping something, angel curse-words, maybe? It didn’t matter, not when his eyes were screwed shut and his head was tipped back, your name sprinkled into the litany of foreign words like a prayer.

The sight was enough to make the bomb that had been building in your stomach explode, sparks of pleasure shooting through your aching legs right to your toes and back up again. You might have said Cas’s name, you weren’t sure, but the sentiment was there. You clamped a hand over your own mouth, nothing but the need to be quiet reverberating through your pleasure-blanked mind.

After what felt like an age, your brain managed to find its way back into your skull and the aftershocks of your orgasm faded from your body. Gently, you removed your hand from Cas’s mouth and looked down at him, smiling.

“Alright?” you asked.

His hair was a mess, his brow lightly beaded with sweat, cheeks flushed. There was even a slight red mark where your hand had been, which you stroked gently.

“I’m more than alright,” he smiled, turning to place a tiny kiss on your fingers. “Are you?”

“Good,” you nodded as you slid off him, mourning the sudden emptiness momentarily as you peeled off the condom, tying it in a neat knot to be disposed of later. Then he was lifting his arm, wriggling with you as if he could read your mind, and you were being cocooned against his body.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, “if I was too loud.”

“You weren’t,” you assured him quickly. “Not at all. Sorry about… gagging you. I should’ve asked. That’s not what usually happens.”

He hesitated, turning to meet your eyes. “I… didn’t mind.”

“No?”

He shook his head, a small, nervous smile dancing across his lips. “No. In fact, I quite liked it.”

You felt your own smile widen as you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, taking his hand where it rested on his chest. “Good,” you said. “What about the rest? What do you think?”

He sighed, a beautifully satisfied noise that flooded you with warmth. “I think I should not have waited this long.”

You laughed, pressing closer. “Mhm?”

“Mhm. Thank you, (Y/N), truly.”

“Oh,” you said softly, turning away to hide the blood rushing to your face. “That’s ok, Cas. Thank you.”

He gave another little hum, shifting to drape his arm over your waist and pull you into him, fingers skimming your ribs. Getting spooned by a divine warrior of God, you thought with a thrill. Real life really was stranger than fiction.

“You’re tired,” he murmured, his voice seeming to rumble through you in the best way possible. “You should sleep.”

“Hold on,” you protested as you felt his arm withdrawing. You grabbed his hand, pulling it firmly back down to rest on your stomach, wiggling closer. “There was a blanket on the back, grab that. I’m staying here.”

You could almost feel him frowning when he replied. “You’d not rather a bed?”

You only hesitated a moment before bending to kiss his arm. “I’d rather you.”

He didn’t seem to know quite what to say to that, but after a beat something heavy and slightly scratchy was being draped over you, and Cas’s arm was tightening around your waist, and his lips were pressing against your shoulder.

“G’night,” you whispered.

“Good night, (Y/N).”

It was Dean who found his two friends curled together on the couch the next morning. He snorted, taking in the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders in tandem with Cas’s, his hand enveloping your smaller one where it rested just above the blanket, the assortment of what was very clearly Cas’s suit and your own clothes scattered over the floor. Well, he supposed, the night hadn’t been a complete failure. He had half a mind to throw something at you, the scene was so jarringly… sweet.

“Rise n’ shine lovebirds,” he called instead, “we’ve got shit to do.”

#supernatural #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel smut #castiel x you #supernatural fanfiction #shameless smut #supernatural smut #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #cas x reader #female reader #x reader #reader insert

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symp4nat · 4 months

Text

"Don't... I swear."

taylor swift x reader

authors note: okay we got this .... js finished writing this its 11 pm and im so sleepy, swim started playing bc my youtube is glitchy and now im wide awake

summary -defending tay from the golden globes thing

The second you heard the stupid, bald man start to speak, you knew shit would go down. Jo Koy had the fucking audacity to comment on the Barbie movie, which was meaningful and touching. A bald, white man commented on it. No one was surpised.

You were talking with Ryan after the show, just discussing little moments when you felt an arm being wrapped around you. You leaned into the mystery person's arms, although you fully knew it was your girlfriend, based off the smell.

"Hey, stink, wanna go home? Or you wanna go to the after party," you asked.

Your girlfriend sighed and said, "Please..."

On the quiet ride home, your girlfriend's hand clutched yours with her head leaning onto your shoulder and your head on hers. She then opened her mouth and said, "Sel told me that these two of our friends hooked up."

You hummed in response. "Oh yeah? Who?" She shrugged, "I'll tell you at home."

Your eyes examined her face. "Are you upset about the Jo Koy thing?"

Her eyes looked at the floor. "He's stupid, we know that, right?" She shrugged and your heart broke into pieces. You then tried to distract her from what was on her mind. "I saw a few videos of you drinking something, was it good? What was it? It'd assume it was wine, was it white or red," you practically interrogated.

When she didn't respond, you decided to grab your phone out. You pulled up the Instagram app and posted a picture of outside the window and captioned it, "u guys were lowk mean to tay tonight, she doesnt deserve any of that, so dont, i swear... yall better fix it 🖕<3"

You then posted it on your story, hoping that the message for across, don't mess with Your Tay, you'd kill them. The car stopped and you opened the door for your girlfriend. Once she had entered the house, you locked the door as she collapsed on the couch. "Go rest, I'll take off your make up soon, promise," you whispered.

"I love you, princess," she said quietly.

"I love you too, Tay," you said as you went to put her blanket into the dryer for added comfort.

#taylor swift #tswift #taylorswift #taylor swift eras #swifties #reputation #midnights era #1989 tv #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift x you #taylor swift x fem!reader #taylor swift x y/n

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

Note

Would I be the asshole for breaking up with my partner over something my best friend told me?

Hi, I'm 20, (they/he) and have been seeing said partner, 23 (any, also I'll call them V from now on) for almost three years apparently. We met in 2020 at a BLM demonstration and quickly became friends. Back then I had been crushing on them for a while but was in a then closed relationship. My girlfriend of that time (20, she/her, let'scall her F) and I opened our relationship and around Halloween I told V. They asked if it was open sexually or also open romantically. After discussing it with F, we said romantically as well, even though I knew that I was unable to commit 100% to loving someone besides F.

Yes, I know. I should have been honest back then. And I was, in a way. I told V that I didn't think I could love them the same way I loved F. It didn't matter then. But it does now.

F broke up with me in February and since then V and I have gotten closer and gone on regular dates and stuff. I still can't love them the way I should, though. I don't know why. We send each other hearts all the time and I tell them I love them, but only in English, because the words in my native language are too heavy and more meaningful (to me at least).

Now I have thought about breaking up with V thousands of times, and always felt bad because how do I explain that even though I said it(that I loved them) I never meant it 100%?

Last week my two best friends W (20, any) and K(20, he/him) (who are dating btw) were supposed to look after my cat (3, she/her). V was there when W showed up and I explained what to do, when to feed her etc.

Now apparently, when I was gone for a hot second to take out the trash or something, V bit W. V has always been a very affectionate and touchy person which has put off both W and K before, since they barely know V and aren't that touchy even with people they know very well (like me. We've known each other for 9 years and been best friends for 8 and 6 of those respectively). So W told me they signalled that they felt uncomfortable with that but V tried to do it a second time and was only apprehended by W fleeing.

Normally, this kind of boundary violation would cause me to cut ties with someone immediately. I am not a stranger to unwanted affection and know that W feels extremely violated by this. It affected them so much they were mentally incapable to take care of my cat and in the end, V ended up looking after her. Which is why it is so hard for me to know what to do.

W is my best friend. I love them dearly and wouldn't have survived school without them. They were violated and felt so horrible and dirty they had to take a long shower to even feel like a person again.

V is my partner who keeps telling their friends and family how well things are between us. I love their mum and I know some of their friends through work and the CSD parade. I feel so guilty about sort of lying to them and saw this incident as an out of a relationship that should've provably ended months ago.

So would breaking up with them over this make me the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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wordsnstuff · 4 months

Note

Hi!

I have reached out to more people, but I'm still having problems with this, and I wanted to hear another opinion.

As a writer, do you have problems continuing a story once you hit a difficult scene?

Because I do, and honestly it's getting me frustrated at this point.

I have a good idea and a plot already done, but every time I hit a difficult scene I just get stuck, and can't write for weeks, sometimes months. I hardly even open the documents when it happens, and sometimes it comes right when I'm on a writing spree and being happy with my writing.

Do you have any advice on how to deal with this? How can I get past this issue and just keep writing more frequently?

I'd really like to hear it!

What do you do when you hit a snag?

When approaching this topic, the frustrating thing is that age-old advice has a lot of truth to it. Sometimes it is true that the best thing you can do when you're stuck is to stop struggling against the resistance and take a meaningful, intentional break to rest your mind and reset your thought process. Sometimes the key to getting started again is shaking up the routine and the altering the process until you find a new combination of habits that meet you where you are.

However, for a lot of us, the turmoil reaches deeper than that. A lot of people who do creative things are neurodivergent, so that has a place in the conversation when discussing what's preventing us from realizing our vision. Even if you don't identify with specific neurodivergence, there are a lot of tools and techniques that have been tried and tested for coping with immense, intrinsic difficulty with things like productivity, mindfulness, interoception, focus, and consistency. Just because these techniques are not specifically designated for you doesn't mean they won't be effective for you.

It is always a helpful exercise to take a step back and examine how you're feeling, both when you are writing and when you aren't, and try to identify any areas where you might be able to improve by changing things within your control.

When it comes to a specific scene holding you back from carrying on, I usually find that it's the result of a decision I made earlier in the plot that isn't serving the story as it continues to develop. I would take a chunk of time to take an analytical look at the scene, where it's come from, what is and isn't sparking in it (is the stagnation mostly due to the characters, events, environment, or lack of information, and is it a scene that is imperative to the reader's understanding?). A lot of the time, it's a scene that can be cut, or it's a scene that can be made redundant by infusing the necessary information of the scene into another place within the story.

If you've identified a scene as "a difficult scene", ask yourself why. If it's daunting because it's too long, then it can probably be cut way down and then added to later if while editing it seems a little thin. If it's challenging because things aren't falling into place and you aren't getting into a flow, then the set-up for the scene probably hasn't been developed effectively and you need to decide whether you're gonna go back in the draft to investigate or move on and return to it while editing.

If the information in the scene needs to be communicated at this specific point in the story, the problem might be the way you've chosen to present it. Pay attention to what your instincts are telling you, because pushing through a scene for the sake of getting past it will not produce a compelling scene to read. If you need to move past it, you have permission to do that. You can always come back and completely dig it up later.

Overall, I think it's very important to write with acceptance that the plot may not turn out the way you planned it. The process is much more effective and much more enjoyable if you aren't trudging along on a predestined path. If the characters and story develop outside of the lines, see where they go. You'll always have the opportunity to return to the outline and tailor later.

Best of luck,

x Kate

#writing #writeblr #writespo #writing advice #writing tips

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months

Note

Hey Raven! Hope you're doing well, and I hope you had a great holiday, if you celebrate, that is.

I hate to clutter your ask box with something like this, and you don’t have to answer, you can just read this with an open mind, but I feel you're the only one I could go to with this without being straight-up attacked. It's also why I'm asking anonymously.

But, what's your stance on the whole war between the JP and EN versions of the game? I'm not asking you to pick a side or anything, I just wanna know your thoughts.

Obviously, I'm an EN player, and idk if you seen, but there's some hateful things out there about us, and honestly, it's hurtful and disheartening to every time I get up here. And it's always on this we as players can't control. Mainly the dialog translations and it's changes.

I've seen people calling us dumb and weak, saying we water down everything because we can't take it, etc. I've seen people saying we don't know how to really correctly and analyze characters and that we're not even playing the same game. They say we've ruined the game, the fandom, and that they wished it was never localized. I've also seen quite horrible things, but I don’t wanna repeat the things said, but yeah.

And the kicker is, it's only the JP side I've seen post this stuff. I've seen more hate come from that side more than anything, and of course not all, like you. You're my fave btw.

So yeah, thoughts?

Hello, hello! ^^ I’m not really a super big celebration person but I’m hunkering down for a cozy hibernation this winter ❄️ I hope everyone had/will have a good 2023 holiday season~

Before I provide my response to the question posed in this ask, I want to make sure we're all on the same page for this discussion first:

Please be advised that my perspective is coming from that of someone who started off playing JP in March 2020 and then picked up EN when it came out in January 2022. I have played on both servers since their initial launches.

When I refer to TWST JP and EN fans in this post, I am only referring to the English speaking fans (as in, English speaking fans who play JP and English speaking fans who play EN).

For the sake of simplicity, I will be disregarding “hybrid” fans (English speaking fans who play both JP and EN) as a separate category and will lump them in with “JP” fans (English speaking fans who play JP). This is because I assume most mixed fans started off with JP and then adopted EN later on.

I am not talking about ALL English-speaking JP and/or EN fans here; I am only talking about the ones Anon described in their ask.

As the Anon said, I ask that you go into this post with an open mind; do not assume that I will bash JP and/or EN, take sides, defend or condone toxic attitudes, or that this post exists just to “stir the pot”. That is not the purpose of my response. The purpose is to have a meaningful and constructive discussion about TWST’s fandom culture, particularly as it pertains to English-speaking fans. I hope that in talking about this, we can better understand “the other side” (however you may personally define that) and work toward making the fandom space more welcoming for all.

Please read the entire post and think about your own choice of words before commenting and/or sending in an ask about this topic, should you choose to.

To the Anon that submitted this ask and to anyone else that plays EN and may have had similar thoughts: I’m sorry to hear about the negative experiences you’ve had in the TWST fandom. I hope that this post brings you some peace of mind, if not at least some catharsis for what you may be feeling.

Firstly, it’s important to understand the mindset of both JP and EN fans. As such, I will delve into the background and the development of each side. It is NOT meant to justify either side, but rather to inform you on how each perspective originated and grew to what it is today.

The animosity and opposition to an official English version of TWST has been present for a while. An English version of TWST has always been contentious, even long before the localization was announced. Some wanted it to happen for accessibility reasons (as some people find it tedious to hunt for translations) or were supportive of the idea because it means a larger fanbase and thus more potential to make friends or to discuss the game. Others were more apprehensive of the quality of a localization (as much tends to be cut or censored to make the content more palatable) and/or claimed that expanding the fanbase in such a way would bring in more “bad apples”.

When EN first came out, it did, in fact, expand the fanbase. However, many were quick to notice the many (and I do mean many) errors and short sightings present in it: frequent spelling and grammar mistakes in the game and on official social media posts, inconsistent phrasing, incorrect translations, game-breaking glitches, frequent censorship, half-hearted promotions, etc. EN also became infamous for its absolutely brutal pacing of content in the early days, particularly related to the limited story event schedules (including back-to-back Halloween events). This, in combination with EN’s constant pushing of paid gems (which occurs far more frequently than in the JP server) has left a bad taste in JP fans’ mouths. To them, TWST EN did not make a good first impression and continued to misstep again and again. This is especially true of the many dialogue changes to make the TWST localization more “culturally appropriate” (which is the definition of what a localization is; there is a reason why TWST is not called a translation, which would be a more accurate/“faithful” or direct translation of the dialogue).

The claim that “EN fans are weak/can’t handle the real story” likely arises from how EN has removed or altered details which may offend western audiences. This includes things like the term “master”, the mention of Azul’s weight, Kalim’s “30-40” siblings, etc. These are conscious decisions made on the part of the game localizers to make TWST more broadly appealing and appropriate for a western audience, where such topics are contentious or considered taboo. This is adapting TWST to a new culture so that it can (in a dry business sense) perform well. However, I also want to mention that some cultural changes EN made do significantly alter the story/characters (such as Jamil no longer stating his family will be on the streets if they defy the Asims; in EN he only says his parents will be bad at him), particularly if you are viewing through an EN-only lens. Unfortunately 😔 as much as I can point the nuances of localization out, there will always be fans who still oppose any sort of censorship. This is also true of the anime and manga community in general, and this post isn’t large enough in scope to tackle those issues. I only mention this here to help you, the reader, better understand the changes from Disney/Aniplex.

A lot of the original negative feelings that were there before EN was announced were then confirmed by the official release, and this strengthened the dislike of EN on the part of JP fans. These JP fans may then become hostile toward EN fans who defend the localization (whether or not they have the context of TWST JP) because, in the eyes of the JP fans, the localization is not as good as it could be. Ultimately, it seems like their intense feelings stem from passion for what they love and not wishing to see it “desecrated” rather than an actual hatred of fellow fans. JP fans are upset because they fear EN fans are not getting the full scope of the characters and a story they enjoy, and they want others to appreciate those aspects of TWST as well.

Of course 💦 the fact is that EN fans are not responsible for the localization. But EN is there and that is what is the easiest and the most time efficient for English-speaking audiences, so most people will go with that rather than alternatives (ie hunting down fan translations). The issue is that some JP fans conflate simply consuming the localization as being bad or the “wrong” thing to do, and thus, by proxy, extend this frustration to EN fans themselves (especially those those are EN only and have zero prior knowledge of JP) and not just the product. Again, this is because they tend to see JP as the “full” version, without the changes or censorship present in EN. This inevitably leads to discrepancies in understanding between JP and EN, whether due to staggered release of new content or how the characters are presented differently between the two servers. To those who say “the versions are basically the same except for minor changes”, I disagree. There are several dialogue changes that appear small in isolation, but because TWST’s narrative is told primarily via dialogue, those “small” changes are actually very large and can drastically modify how one perceives a character or situation without explicit knowledge of JP to balance it out. When Jamil is made an “employee” rather than a “servant” and worries about his parents being mad at him instead of his entire family literally being on the streets for defying the Asims, it takes away the bite from his motivations. When Cater inserts a #WOW that wasn’t there in JP while Riddle is breaking down sobbing, or makes him come off as far more insensitive than emotionally aware. These are just a few examples, but they are very prominent ones that can change how an EN only fan sees things. The idea that “we aren’t even playing the same game” can ring true to some JP players because of this.

It cannot be helped that EN fans would interpret the characters and stories differently when the localization is their only or primary source of TWST content. Not everyone has the time or the desire to look for more accurate fan translations (not all fan translations are the same quality), as some JP fans have suggested. If EN fans want to, that’s great! It’s nice to expand one’s knowledge and to be cognizant of the changes between the versions. There are many blogs out there dedicated to educating people on these matters, and many EN and JP fans alike flocking there to be informed. But that level of engagement shouldn’t be demanded of anyone. To deem those that don’t engage in “further research” as “lazy”, “dumb”, or a “fake fan” is not acceptable, not in the name of love or otherwise. The expectation to “do homework” only puts pressure on EN fans to be a certain way or else be rejected by the fandom, and that only breeds more hatred and negativity. It makes EN fans feel “not worthy” of being a fan unless they study up, when the truth of the matter is that no matter how much we like TWST, it’s… media at the end of the day. People are free to consume their choice of media however they like, and that includes casually or at their own pace. It’s not fun to be in a fandom where others are breathing down your neck and policing everything you do, especially since these spaces are meant to be a temporary escape from reality. If JP fans meant to gatekeep in an effort to make others recognize the “real” greatness of TWST, then it’s failing because this kind of attitude only serves to drive new fans away.

Among EN fans, there is this idea that “JP fans are stuck-up”. I can understand where this thinking comes from, as I have witnessed hatred for EN myself which comes unprompted and has killed many conversations. Admittedly, some points are geared toward the company themselves (and those are valid), such as rushed and/or inaccurate translations or the pushing of paid gems, but I’ve also seen my fair share of nastier, invalid comments directed at EN fans. There are JP fans who actively hope that EN will shut down or who outright dismiss EN fans because of the version they play, thinking of their thoughts and opinions as “lesser” or doubting their media literacy skills. It’s true that this behavior is out there in the fandom, and that is unfortunately a sad reality.

That being said, JP on EN hate is not the only form I see, and nor is it the majority. It goes both ways (and I would say about equally for all, although this is just based on anecdotes and not objective data). There is plenty of JP on JP hate (particularly when someone spreads mistranslations around as though it were the truth) and EN on EN hate (arguments over what is and is not appropriate to ship, differences in headcanons, harassing fans that fall outside an “acceptable” age range, etc). There is also EN on JP hate which feeds into a dangerous back-and-forth with JP on EN hate. I briefly mentioned before that EN fans tend to believe JP fans are elitist, and this leads to assumptions being made about anyone that critiques EN and sometimes lashing out about it. I myself have previously been accused of “hating” EN because I often make posts commenting on the changes made between EN and JP (which ones I think work and which I think don’t). This preemptively defensive behavior drives another wedge between JP and EN fans, making JP fans reluctant to engage with EN fans, which then fuels the belief that JP fans think they’re “better” than EN fans (when really, some JP fans may be intentionally distancing themselves for their own wellbeing). Additionally, a lot of behavior deemed more acceptable in western oriented fandom spaces (such as moral justifications, taking pictures without crediting, callouts of other fans, and incorrect use of fandom tags) are not so for JP spaces (or those familiar with JP spaces). There have also been times when EN fans harass the actual Japanese-speaking side of the fandom (be it Japanese fans or the devs themselves) and demand (not ask, but demand) content that caters to them or free translations of fan comics they make. When EN fans fail to observe such “basic fandom etiquette”, it leads to JP fans thinking them rude or entitled, which makes JP fans reluctant to interact with EN fans and, again, feeds into confirmation bias. It’s a viscous system.

What is “ruining” the fandom is not just one side. There has always been turmoil present in fandom spaces. It just appears more visible now that TWST’s popularity has grown to this degree. Right now, both sides (JP and EN) are antagonizing each other because of a loud minority that’s attacking the other side. That minority then gets extrapolated and assumed to be behavior of the entirety of the other side, and that is what keeps the hate going.

If I’m being entirely honest 😔 I don’t think these tensions will realistically ever die out; the fandom is too large to “stomp out” what has already been established in its culture. When both sides are fueled by something so strong—a passion for TWST—it’s hard to seek out and/or to consider alternative perspectives. We become fixated on their own negative experiences and fail to think about where the “others” maybe be coming from, and then close ourselves off from discussion. That promotes isolation and contempt rather than friendliness and cooperation.

If we want change, then it starts at an individual level and in smaller TWST communities. We shouldn’t assume the worst of “JP” or “EN” fans; we are all TWST fans. Let’s keep open-minded and welcome other fans and their diverse schools of thought. And if you don’t feel comfortable with that, that’s also fine! You’re allow to keep a distance and curate your online space as you like; just please don’t go out of your way to disparage others, you have your own lane and others have theirs. Don’t encroach on other lanes.

Maybe we don’t necessarily agree with each other or we think may hold different opinions—but that’s good, isn’t it? The freedom of thought and the open exchange of ideas promotes flexible thinking and can lead you to see things from a new angle, or perhaps develop a new idea of your own. If we all thought the same way, then life becomes boring or it can cultivate an “us versus them” narrative that sparks online wars.

Let me put it this way to close off the post: isn’t this the message that Twisted Wonderland itself is trying to teach us? The true value of attending Night Raven College isn’t just about receiving a good education. Countless times it has been stressed to us (and often by Lilia, the oldest and wisest of the core cast, someone who used to be resistant to opening up to outsiders) that it is vital to understand other people in spite of how different we may be. Let’s take a page out of the students’ book and try to live up to that ^^

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst en #twisted wonderland en #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #question #advice #Azul Ashengrotto #Riddle Rosehearts #Cater Diamond #Scarabia #Kalim Al-Asim #Jamil Viper #Lilia Vanrouge

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thatbadadvice · 7 months

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Help! I Am Entitled To Do A Bone!

The Ethicist, New York Times, 14 October 2023:

My wife became pregnant soon after we met, when our relationship was “fluid” and non-monogamous. We agreed to raise the child together and, at my urging, to have an open relationship. However, our relationship since has been monogamous. My wife was injured during the birth of our second child and now finds sex painful and avoids it. (We had a terrific sex life before the injury.) When I broached the topic of having other partners and reminded her of our agreement to have an open relationship, she became irritated and said that having kids changed things. Subsequent discussions resulted in a stalemate. I very much enjoy my wife’s company and love her and our two kids. I have no intention of separating from my family. Nonetheless, I harbor resentments that my wife reneged on her commitment to me, and this, together with the lack of sex, is creating a wedge between us. Would it be ethical to take a mistress, given her earlier promise, and if so, can I do this discreetly so as to avoid tension and perhaps divorce? Or should I tell her I am planning to pursue this course of action? Or does the inherent risk of infidelity mean I should accept near-celibacy indefinitely? — Name Withheld

Dear Name Withheld,

The restraint with which you signed yourself "name withheld" rather than the more accurate "big fun deep-dicking from which I have been blocked by my hateful bitch wife" is admirable in the extreme. You are a credit to your gender, sir.

But on to the matter at hand, specifically, your hand, to which you have been relegated in lieu of the aforementioned big fun deep-dicking. Your wife waited to drop the vicious bomb of possession upon you until she had roped you, an unwitting fancy-free man of leisure (entitled to all the benefits thereof indefinitely and in perpetuity), into marriage and fatherhood of not one but two children — children you could have in no way have known would result from your consistently and entirely monogamous coupling over many years, and moreover, could never have expected would complicate the terms of the thing y'all talked about one time about boning other randos?? And now this self-interested harpy dares to refuse to you the clear promise of sex with absolutely anyone other than her at any time ever, which she made and guaranteed in surety after you'd been fucking for a minute? A promise you had in theory enjoyed by writ and at length in your mind based on a conversation y'all had years ago before the entire terms and nature of your relationship changed in deep and meaningful ways to literally the one other person involved in said relationship, to wit, the worst person?

A bait-and-switch of the kind your cruel and fickle wife has pulled on you cannot, should not, be tolerated. Are you — is any man, really — obligated to just not fuck his wife in addition to whoever else he wants to fuck ever? Just because she "finds sex painful"? Sex isn't painful for you, and doesn't that matter just a little bit more? Isn't it her job to have kind of a bad time so that you can have a good time? Isn't that what it is to be a woman and a mother? And she just casually eschews her duty to put up with whatever the fuck you propose? Because WHY? Because "having kids changes things"? I ask you: changes things for who? For the person who carried children in her body and experienced deep and lasting personal and physical injury? Or for you, the person who matters most?

It seems your wife has an unfortunately topsy-turvy view of partnership, one in which she believes two individuals are allowed to dictate the terms of a relationship that may change over time due to a variety of mitigating factors that one or both of you may or may not have control over. Would that she realized that her sexual needs are not merely incidental to yours, but actively irrelevant. If only she would simply give you that one, small thing (in addition to two children).

But alas, she seems sadly fixated on her own needs to the exclusion of the fact that you would like to do a bone upon her or frankly anyone, you are not picky, as long as she doesn't leave you or take your children away or do anything really to upset the world as you would like it to be, which is a classically controlling woman-type thing that women do because they are so self-involved.

Obviously you're really grappling with the profound ethical implications of lying to your wife about taking a mistress, and you're trying to find literally any other solution to just finding a girlfriend and fucking the shit out of her and hoping your wife doesn't find out. That's clearly the very last thing you want. But since you've shown such magnanimous restraint in not doing so, you probably should just do it and see what happens, it'll probably all be totally fine! And if it isn't, eh, idk? Were you supposed to just survive on beejays and handies forever? You tried your very best not to! And that's what will matter most to your children in the end.

#relationships #advice #bad advice #the ethicist #new york times #monogamy #polyamory #ethical non monogamy #just regular dude stuff #the men are fine #the men are very chill #childbirth #parenting #families #relationship advice

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mikkeneko · 3 months

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What we miss when we don't talk about friendship (in MDZS)

I'd like to open with the statement that this is not about shipping -- none of my thesis is to say "don't ship this" or "this ship isn't real." People can and have shipped whatever the hell they want and should continue to do so for as long as it makes you happy. It's not even a question of "sure you can ship it but it's not CANON," because the MXTX canon is wonderfully good at being ambiguous and supporting multiple interpretations.

What this thesis is to say is that some of these themes and motifs to explore are about friendship, and they don't tend to get talked about much, because people are mostly focused on the romantic and sexual dimensions of a dynamic. Romantic and sexual dimensions are great, but they don't annihilate or even subsume platonic dimensions -- yes, sometimes you can be a lover and a friend, but sometimes you can just be a friend and not a lover and that's no less important. As a post I saw recently said which stuck with me -- don't remember the poster, alas, but it was something in the vein of -- "it's not about the intensity of the relationship, but the flavor of it." Platonic character dynamics can be just as obsessive and consuming as romantic dynamics, they can be discussed and analyzed separately without needing to invalidate romantic and sexual dynamics.

So! That disclaimer aside, let's talk about: FRIENDSHIP IN MDZS, and what we miss when we don't talk about friendship as a dynamic in this story separate from romantic and sexual interest. Friendship shows up repeatedly in this story with its own sub-plots and arcs and undercurrents and hazards separate from the romance that's going on, and it's mostly going on with the Lans.

Part 1: Lan Xichen and friendship

A cornerstone of this analysis has to do with a meta post I read very early on in the fandom about the Lans when viewed through a Confucian lens. Lan Qiren in particular is a very, very Confucian character, and he raised his nephews to those traditions and values. The pertinent one here is the topic of the "Five relationships" which outline the relationships that a man of authority can expect to have throughout his lifetime: self to ancestors, self to descendents, self to authorities and subordinates, self to marriage partners, and self to friends. Each one comes with a set of strictures and requirements which when added up combine to a world that is very, very emotionally taxing and extremely short on interpersonal and emotional support. He is expected to obey and submit to guidance from his seniors, but he can't ask them for help. He is expected to lead and govern his subjects, but he can never be wrong or show weakness or doubt. It's especially important, I think, that Lan Xichen is raised to expect that even any romantic relationship he might have (read: marriage to a woman) would not actually be emotionally supportive to him in any meaningful way; it would be another set of obligations to uphold, another place he would be expected to be remote and poised and never show weakness or ask for help.

The exception is friendship. Friendship is the only relationship structure Lan Xichen can have in his life that has any hope of actually being nurturing and emotionally supporting to him, a place he can let down his guard and ask for help with the expectation of receiving it. It becomes very clear from very early on that friendship means everything to Lan Xichen as a character. He enters the story with a strong, supportive friendship with one of the only true peers a man of station can have (Nie Mingjue) and it's clear that this has formatively set his expectation of what a friendship can and should be. Lan Xichen really wants to be the Friendship Is Magic guy. He believes that friendship is the best way to solve problems, and that everybody would be able to solve their problems if only they had a friendship like his, and that belief is a lot of what runs him into a meat grinder later in the story. He thinks that Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao are capable of maintaining a friendship post-war, and does not understand why they cannot, and his attempts to friend-matchmake the two of them ultimately lead both to disaster.

Part 2: Lan Wangji and friendship

The header says Lan Wangji, but this is actually about Lan Xichen again, and about Wei Wuxian. A pretty common joke in the fandom is that Lan Xichen is "the #1 WangXian shipper," that he recognizes Lan Wangji's sexual and romantic attraction to Wei Wuxian from very early on and supports him in pursuing such a relationship. It's a nice joke, but I think it misses the mark, because the looming specter of their parents' disastrous and traumatic marriage means that Lan Xichen would never approach the idea of his brother entering into a romantic relationship so cavalierly. (Lan Qiren, in some ways, had a clearer notion of what shape Lan Wangji's interest in Wei Wuxian had the potential to be than Lan Xichen did, perhaps because he doesn't have the same obsession with friendship; if he has any close friendships of his own, we're not shown them.)

Lan Xichen is not encouraging Lan Wangji to have a romantic summer fling. Lan Xichen encourages his association with Wei Wuxian specifically because he thinks Lan Wangji needs friends. Not just in the sense of any parent or adult wanting their child to make friends, but specifically in the context of these restrictive hierarchical relationships that hem in their world. Lan Xichen is afraid that Lan Wangji will be alone, and emotionally starved, and have no one he can ask for help or rely on, because that is his experience of a world without friendship. (Lan Wangji, of course, is not in the same position as Lan Xichen because he has Lan Xichen to rely on.) Lan Xichen wants Lan Wangji to have the same kind of friendship that he himself has with Nie Mingjue, and he thinks that Wei Wuxian has the potential to be that kind of friend. That is the context in which he encourages their association, and tries to arrange for them to have time together, and to become closer; not as a potential romantic partner but as a steadfast emotional and logistical support through Lan Wangji's adult life.

If Lan Xichen knew that Lan Wangji would fall in love with Wei Wuxian (had already started to,) I'm not at all sure that he would have encouraged that. In pretty much any arc past the Lan Lectures, he doesn't, both because Wei Wuxian stopped being a good candidate for supportive friendship (he's clearly got too much of his own shit going on) and because he realizes that what is developing in Lan Wangji bears very little resemblence to his own relationships. He might not outright try to sabotage the relationship but he's clearly worried about its potential to bring disaster on Wangji -- and he's very correct to be worried, as it turns out.

Part 3: Lan Sizhui and friendship

So, All Of That Happens; Wei Wuxian dies, Lan Wangji is laid low for years and seems poised to grieve for the rest of his life; Nie Mingjue dies and takes Lan Xichen's support with him. Now we come to the present day, and the present day has Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi.

Let's take a moment to step back and ask from an analytical perspective: Why is Lan Jingyi, as a character, in the story? Assuming that in a novel as polished as MDZS, each element is included for good reasons. Why is Lan Jingyi in the story and why is he Lan Sizhui's best friend? In the new world we're introduced to, the Lan are already represented, and very positively represented by Lan Sizhui. Lan Jingyi provides a convenient avenue for both exposition-dumping and sass -- saying the things that everyone else is too polite to say -- but we could have gotten that through another character (Jin Ling also plays this role) or introduced another Junior who isn't Lan, like Ouyang Zizhen. Why is it important to the story that Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi are friends?

The Juniors in general represent hope for the world to change, hope for the new generation. In Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi, we see that the terrible loneliness that drove their seniors to disaster in the previous generation, is averted. Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi have a friendship that is close and true, and we are never given reason to doubt it. Their priorities are aligned; it's unlikely that Sect politics or personality conflicts will ever drive them apart. They have what Lan Xichen craved: a friendship that will support them through tragedy and disaster. Their friendship stands to demonstrate that in the new generation, things will get better.

#untamed meta #lan xichen #nie mingjue

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littleprince612 · 7 months

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Lies of P - ENDING EXPLAINED, THEMES & FAQ

MAJOR SPOILERS MAJOR SPOILERS ENDING SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

By the way, this is not a lore analysis at all, this is a discussion on the thematic ideas in the story, and I refer to the player character interchangeably as "we" or P/Pinocchio. This is also all just my personal interpretations on the story, and is subject to inaccuracy.

Please enjoy my spark notes-esque analysis on Pinocchio souls!!

Was Carlo evil?

My answer is no. This is a bit complex, so I’ll try to answer within two questions.

In one of the endings, P surrenders his heart and Geppetto then uses it to revive Carlo, his biological son. Carlo then ends up killing everyone in the hotel if we choose to "save" him. He steps out into the rain, looks at Geppetto, and smiles (something that P doesn’t do), seemingly confirming his newly found humanity.

This does seem like a happy ending at first, doesn't it? By submitting to him, We/Carlo may win the purely conditional love of our father, but this comes at a cost. He has surrendered a part of himself in obedience. He no longer has any agency. Thereby making him a puppet in the ideological sense:

The game has a meaningful mechanic where our hair will grow during the duration of the game. Carlo's presented with short hair, but he's also wearing the same outfit (white blouse) we had in the train station; This is the version of ourselves from the beginning of the game. Like showing all that development we made is now gone for submitting to our father, we're right back to where we started, even as a "real boy”: a non-realized being who is at the call of someone else, a (Gasp!) puppet.

Why does Geppetto sacrifice himself instead of calling the attack off?

Let’s say instead of giving away the heart, we refuse. Geppetto, disappointed, then opens the suitcase he’s been carrying since the first trailer. He reveals the unnamed puppet boss, raises up the unnamed puppet on strings, and attempts to take the heart by force.

If you survive the first phase of the fight, P is able to slice the top his head off. There's then an animation of the "strings" around the nameless puppet being cut, becoming more ethereal.

The fight goes on as it does, and then something strange happens. The nameless puppet seemingly defies Geppetto, and nonsensically attacks the heart Geppetto so needs in the first place, at which point he is so desperate for Carlo's revival that he dives in front of us.

Geppetto asks, shocked, "Were you trying to destroy Carlo's heart?"

What’s in the box?

Geppetto opens the suitcase we’ve seen him carrying since the first trailer, and raises up the nameless puppet. In the other ending, we can see that the body in the suitcase is indeed Carlo.

I think that Carlo/Nameless puppet regained some amount of sentience after being damaged. After the "real boy ending", Geppetto has him kill the rest of the people in Hotel Krat. Carlo being revived would mean Geppetto still has absolute control over his son.

Short answer: He lost control of the puppet in the second phase and it either sabotaged him or acted purely of its own accord to end the fight. I think the implication was that even Carlo knew being brought back was a bad idea. Damn :(

[note: people online have pointed out: It’s implied that Geppetto seems to have heavily neglected Carlo, and Carlo may have hated Geppetto in reality ("I don't care if an old man like that kicks the bucket!"). This reinforces the idea that the Carlo we see at the end is just a pawn.]

Is Pinocchio = Carlo?

I think this is one of the more interesting points. This is either ambiguous or left unresolved by the game; but I think it's probably true that Pinocchio and Carlo are virtually the same person. If Geppetto had just accepted our/P's decision not to surrender the heart, he may have still gotten the son back that he always wanted anyway. But for all intents and purposes, the game seems to answer that it doesn't matter. Antonia's final letter to us rather profoundly chooses not to answer the question.

Why Antonia is a real one

This is Antonia's final message to us, contrasted with Geppetto's role with us as a parent in our final battle. [emphasis mine]

To the wonderful gentleman who gave my precious time back to me, That time I met you was light itself. Whether you're that child or not, I think you're a kind, precious child. Thank you for giving my joy back to me in my last moments. To the young gentleman who resembles Carlo, Antonia Cerasani

[Remember, these are Antonia and Geppetto’s respective last words to us]

To be very fair, Geppetto was Carlo's actual parent; Antonia was not. But this seems to contrast with Geppetto asserting to us during the final boss sequence that we are just a puppet. The word "precious" is also very particular, as it's a word that Geppetto uses to refer to us near constantly ("Always remember that you're precious to me"/"it pains me to send someone so precious into such peril"). But while it could be read that we are only precious to him for ulterior reasons (because we carry the organ needed to revive Carlo), Antonia asserts that we are precious regardless. I see that as a truer, non-possessive love.

[also: Carlo's eyes are very noticeably brown (also seen in the painting), Our/P’s eyes are blue. Eyes, nearly always, have quite the symbolism! "The window to the soul", remember? While P and Carlo may have had a near-identical shell, I think this might be the game telling us that P and Carlo weren't truly the same. ]

Who’s a good boy?

Geppetto calls us "good boy" quite a lot. It's been fun watching various streams of this game, and whenever Geppetto calls us a "Good boy", I remember the chatroom filling up with messages of disgust, like: Good boy has real "Would you kindly" vibes! and: I squint my eyes at him every time he calls us a good boy like a dog.

It really reminds me of Mother Gothel! When Mother Gothel calls Rapunzel "pet" and consistently dresses her in undersized dresses, she's infantilizing Rapunzel to take away her agency. Cleverly, each time she tells Rapunzel she loves her, she seems to be directing that love to her hair! She's also constantly touching and caressing it. She isn't interested in Rapunzel as a person, but in the functional idea of her. Geppetto also expresses discomfort seeing us age (our hair growing), in contrast to Sophia's honest and enthusiastic interest. It's symbolic of his disdain towards our growing self-autonomy (growth into an adult).

[Even in the last hug with P, it’s a basically a ruse to grab the heart, and he never gives P a second look when he collapses for dead on the floor.]

[To be somewhat sympathetic to Bad Dad Giuseppe (I'm not defending him), it's also probably because we are now growing past the age that Carlo died. Essentially, we're starting to outlive him, and Geppetto has to witness the growing that Carlo never got to reach. That's got to be hard to bear.]

What does P actually stand for? P stands for Puppet, Not Pinocchio

People have noticed since the demo that we are never actually, explicitly referred to as "Pinocchio". The NPCs seem to dodge around saying "Pinocchio", opting for words “like Geppetto's puppet" or “child” instead. Given the story's inspiration and the game's title, however, it could be inferred that our name is Pinocchio. Why not just call us by name?

Well, the doylist interpretation is that maybe they just didn't want to stir up some kind of trademark trouble with a certain Walter Mouse. But the game does something clever with this, lore-wise. After our "betrayal" at the hands of our father, I think the big reveal is simply that we are unnamed. Giuseppe gave us no name, showing he didn't view us as a true autonomous being.

Why does Geppetto apologize in the alternate "good ending"?

Both the endings are near identical, but when Geppetto is beginning to curse Pino, he apologizes instead. The beginning of the end cutscene is the same as the second “good ending”, where Geppetto tells us that we’re “just a useless puppet”. He's beginning to say this, except for when he sees the tear fall, at which point he seems to relent.

I think it's supposed to imply, seeing Pinocchio seemingly mourning for him, that in the very last moment Geppetto understood that either 1. Pinocchio was truly Carlo or 2. that he was sentient enough to be his tangible son anyway.

Is Pinocchio still alive? (+ Collodi's journey to Adulthood)

I think so!

If you've taken certain paths, you unlock the third ending, which is like the second ending, except with an additional scene where we can see P returning to the Alchemist's tower to look at a peaceful Krat. P then uses the ergo from Sophia into a puppet replica, at which point he collapses, seemingly from exhaustion. Sophia cradles him as he sleeps and serenely tells us it's good to see us again.

In the book, Pinocchio, after travailing to support both his ailing father and the sick blue fairy, falls asleep and dreams that he is visited by the blue fairy. The fairy, now whole and healed, tells him he hasn't been the best son, but that boys who support their parents are "deserving of great praise". When he wakes, he is a human boy, and his puppet form lies lifeless on a chair. It isn't Pinocchio showing pure obedience that makes him into a real boy, but the selfless act of caring for his father (the reversal of the parent-child structure). In my interpretation - her final message is this: That he was never perfect, (and perhaps he would never be perfect), but the bottom line was that he loved his father, and that was enough to make him human. [I think there's something in my eye!]

(Easter - The Resurrection of Christ, Rebirth, Death and renewal, Spring)

In case you don't know (I didn't btw), the statue in the Exhibition is actually Michelangelo's La Pieta. Its inclusion in the game not only alludes to the novel's Italian origins, but also serves as a central visual motif as it's representing Jesus's death in the arms of Mary. This visual motif is revisited by P and Sophia at the end of the game in the “true” (canonical) ending. Symbolically, In the selfless act of reviving Sophia and at the end of his journey, he has transcended and broken the "egg shell of his puppet body" into a true adult (a human being).

Does lying make us human?

At the centre of Collodi's Pinocchio is a father-son relationship wherein underlies an unconditional love. But this game has quite the different father-son relationship. When puppets are made, they are meant to follow under the laws of the Grand Covenant, and our father is the father of all puppets. Namely, each time we lie, this is in defiance of our father figure. Remember, the rule is that a puppet cannot lie. Lying doesn't have the connotation it has in the book or in popular culture adaptations of Pinocchio. Rather, lying in the game seems to infer choice and not deception.

It isn't just the act of disobedience (Self-agency) that gives us our autonomy ("A man chooses", mirroring Bioshock), In many cases in the story, we are asked if it’s better to comfort someone with a lie than telling them a truth that maybe wouldn’t serve them. In that way, you can also view lying as the selfless act of taking a burden.

Again, this adapts Collodi's psychological ideas in the book on the growth of the self-interested nature of the hedonistic, narcissistic child into the empathetic "adult" that works to serve others. [I know I might come across as harsh here, but bear with me, I’m just trying to speak in literary terms.] But while Collodi's Pinocchio focuses on the selfless nature of a parent, Lies of P focuses on the self-agency of an adult.

So why is Lies of P so dead serious about Pinocchio? Well, it's an elaborate metaphor for self-autonomy.

In Conclusion…

Does Lies of P have an identity issue in of itself? Great soulslike? PuppetBorne 2.0? But it's also a beautifully rendered Pinocchio adaption. Quite unusual, perhaps, but there's a quote that bizarrely enough comes to mind when I think of the audacity of a Pinocchio themed soulslike - Talent is hitting the target nobody else can hit, while genius is hitting the target nobody else can see. I think there is a reason why the tale of Pinocchio persists and persists.

#lies of p #LOP #lies of p spoilers #spoilers #spoiler #pinocchio #carlo collodi #liesofp

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skogjeger · 10 months

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Connecting With Your Spirit Guides ❁ཻུ۪۪ ━

‧₊˚. : · •. * • ˚ . · * ✶ : · • * ˚ ✵

In this discussion, we will explore various methods for establishing a connection with your spirit guides. It's important to note that this is not a definitive guide dictating what you should or shouldn't do, but rather a collection of different approaches that can help you discover what works best for you.

However, I will say this, and it's nothing bad. When establishing a connection with your spirit guides or receiving their signs, it's important to release the belief that it will be an extraordinary encounter where they manifest in front of you with physical forms, complete with wings or even a motorbike. By letting go of expectations regarding their appearance, status, and more, you can better open yourself up to recognizing the subtle signs that you might otherwise miss if you cling to such unrealistic expectations.

𖤣𖥧˚ Set Your Intention

Start by clarifying your intention to connect with your spirit guides. Clearly state your desire to establish a connection and seek their guidance and support.

𖤣𖥧˚ Ask For a Sign

If you're seeking guidance on a specific issue, ask your spirit guides for a clear sign to confirm their presence or provide direction. Be open to receiving the sign in unexpected ways, such as through conversations, songs, or encounters with specific animals or numbers.

𖤣𖥧˚ Pay Attention to Signs and Synchronicities

This goes back to the second part of this list. Throughout your day, be mindful of any signs, symbols, or synchronicities that catch your attention. Spirit guides often communicate through subtle messages in the form of numbers, animals, repeated patterns, or meaningful coincidences. My spirit guides would catch my attention by using feathers and placing them in unordinary spots.

𖤣𖥧˚ Practice Active Listening

Be patient and receptive during your connection attempts. Practice active listening by quieting your mind and being open to receiving messages or guidance from your guides. Pay attention to any thoughts, ideas, or insights that arise.

𖤣𖥧˚ Create a Sacred Space

Find a quiet and comfortable space where you can relax and focus without distractions. This can be a corner in your room, a meditation area, or anywhere you feel at ease.

𖤣𖥧˚ Call upon your guides

Silently or verbally call upon your spirit guides. You can address them by name if you already know it or simply ask for their presence and guidance. Be sincere and open-hearted in your communication.

𖤣𖥧˚ Dreamwork

Before sleep, set the intention to connect with your spirit guides in your dreams. Keep a dream journal beside your bed and record any dreams or messages you receive upon waking. Your guides may use dreams as a way to communicate with you.

𖤣𖥧˚ Keep a journal

Maintain a journal or notebook dedicated to your spiritual journey. Write down your experiences, any insights or messages you receive, and any signs or synchronicities you notice. This helps you track your progress and gain clarity over time.

𖤣𖥧˚ Nature connection

Spend time in nature, whether it's going for a walk in the woods, sitting by the ocean, or simply being in your backyard. Nature can provide a serene and harmonious environment to connect with your spirit guides and receive their guidance.

𖤣𖥧˚ Meditation

Meditation can quiet your mind and create a receptive space for communication with your spirit guides. Additionally, listening to music or following a guided meditation centred around connecting with your guides can be beneficial. In my personal opinion, the duration of your meditation session is not as important as the intention behind it. Whether it's a brief 30-minute session or a shorter period, the ultimate aim remains the same: establishing a connection with your guides.

#paganblr #eclectic witch #beginner witch #witchblr #witchcraft #eclectic pagan #paganism #witch community #pagan blog #pagan #spirit guides #spirit work #spirituality #spiritualism

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infiniteko · 2 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/illusionaurie/743221144282398720/hey-mystic-i-was-gonna-link-an-ask-from-earlier?source=share

👁️👄👁️ why is correcting misinformation / contradictions / massive over complications considered "mean"? these people realize they’re on the internet, right? if you’re still learning about ND/AV, you can literally just write down your thoughts in a private journal so you’re not responsible for spreading myths and false info on the internet to confused, vulnerable people. i’m sorry to be harsh but so many young people enjoy the title of being a "blogger", but without any accountability or experience in what they’re actually claiming to "teach". people are allowed to publicly criticize other people’s public claims, it’s the internet and it’s part of having a platform. 🤷 any ounce of criticism doesn’t equate to bullying or hatred. be open to discussion that’s not always positive and don’t take it as such a personal attack…

when people are tagging their posts with ND/AV, but aren’t using these concepts at all accurately, it’s totally fair to correct them. the same way if i came on here talking about how jewish theology considers jesus to be a messiah, i’d expect someone to tell me otherwise. it’s just blatantly untrue lol. it’s harmful and also extremely pointless to talk about things you don’t know anything about as if you know, when you can just take a tiiiny break from the internet, go within and… actually know it for yourself?

it’s veryyy transparent who here speaks from experience of knowing themselves (you + RW mainly, also i think Ada was mostly right just massively over conceptualized) versus who simply says whatever words they think sound good lol. it’s a shame to see people be wilfully ignorant but oh well🤷 it’s only themselves that they’re keeping seemingly stuck and unhappy, forever chasing (as that anon themselves said) "manifestations" and "desires" that bring about no meaningful or lasting happiness. 👎

sorry btw ik you probably can’t post this because of 🫨the controversy!!!1!1!🫨 but i had to indulge myself just a lil in the pettiness… i was bored, and i’m so tired of hearing people label SHORT + SIMPLE sentences as "riddles" just because they don’t want to put on their big girl pants and know this for themselves

Oh Anon you're speaking from the depths of my soul. I couldn't agree even more. Most of these "ND/AV" "bloggers" talk nonsense and get extremely defensive whenever they are corrected. They enjoy having people who listen to them and you can always tell who is talking from straight direct experience and who isn't. It's considered rude and "bullying" because they're asleep. But I'll be quiet🙆🏻‍♀️

#ask

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writingwithcolor · 1 year

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Jewish dryad character: non-human Jewish characters

writingthrowaway asked:

Is it ever acceptable to write a non human Jewish character as a goyim? I am writing an urban fantasy story with a mostly non human cast, and there Is going to be a discussion of religion at one point and one of the characters (a part human, part dryad) is explaining that being non human and having magic doesn’t give any answers, just different questions. His character feels very Jewish to me, but I am wary of creating a non human Jewish character due to the history of anti semitic portrayals of Jewish people as non human. I would avoid things like horns, green skin, etc, but am still worried.

At risk of being redundant, a grammatical note: “-im” is a plural ending in Hebrew and Yiddish. Seraphim, Nephilim, lechayim, and yes, goyim, are all plural. The singular is goy. It’s also not necessary or particularly more respectful to express that you’re not Jewish by saying “I’m a goy” than by saying “I’m not Jewish.” It’s not disrespectful, it’s just not necessary. If something feels meaningful to you about saying “I’m a goy,” “I’m a gaijin,” “I’m a gringo,” etc, you do you, and now you’re able to do it less incorrectly.

As to your actual question, I think it’s lovely to show non-human, non-villainous characters practicing Judaism. Although we don’t proselytize, we do accept converts, and there’s a lot to play with in questions about how someone with different biological and potentially social needs would practice Judaism, although that would require a significant amount of research to write from the outside. Having that person be linked with trees is especially interesting, since Judaism has a lot to say about trees in a lot of contexts. If the character is half human and half dryad, that might open the door for you to learn more about the experiences of multiracial and mixed Jews, as their experiences might mirror those. I might point you to Rabbi Angela Buchdahl, who has written publicly about her experience as a mixed-race Jewish child and public figure, as a possible inspiration.

You listed a few tropes of non-human character attributes to avoid, and you’re right about them. I encourage you to consider also the negative tropes attached to Jewish human characters. In a previous ask I listed some negative stereotypes of Jewish masculinity, and noted that many of them are only negative if the context is set up to frame them that way. You could choose either to avoid giving your Jewish, half-human man any of those attributes, or to include some of those attributes but frame them as positive or endearing, particularly the ones about a character’s looks or intellect, but for instance I would avoid demonstrating his Jewishness through tropes like having poor boundaries with his mother or being unusually cowardly. I don’t think you’re headed in that direction but it was worth saying.

Honestly I love the idea of non-human Jewish characters, it sounds like you’re conscious of the tropes involved, and I think you’re on the right track for creating this character sensitively and well.

-Meir

Since we have an actual Jewish tree holiday and your character is part tree creature I'd love to watch a character like that celebrate Tu Bishvat 💚

I agree with Meir that yes non human Jewish characters! But I disagree about gentiles/outsiders/etc. using “goyim” for themselves just because it’s a word in another language that you don’t actually need. It means “nations” and to me it has an “everyone else” connotation. But I’m just one person so feel free to listen to either one of us on this. I think the reason it strikes me as off is the use of a random word in a language you aren't using for anything else but that specific word, when there is a word in your language. Like it has the same vibe to me as saying you want the atmosphere in your reading nook in your apartment to evoke "shalom" rather than just saying you wanted it to evoke peace, if you're an English speaker. But yeah my response is mostly the "everyone else around us" connotation I'm used to associating with the word. Again, please don't take either me or Meir as law, we're just demonstrating the two Jews three opinions phenomenon.

—Shira

#Jewish #supernatural beings #dryad #goya #Jewish holidays #Jewish culture #representation #asks

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timemachineyeah · 2 years

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Ready for my hot take?

The Last Airbender (2010) was ultimately a force for good.

It was a terrible, terrible movie. Adapted from a very popular show.

ATLA was at the height of its fandom. And it was a toxic fandom. Ship wars and mocking each other and general anger were pretty hard to avoid, even when carefully curating your fandom experience.

And then this very bad movie came out and we all had a common enemy.

No, my point is not that the movie temporarily united a divided fandom against a common enemy, though it did do that. And I think that helped.

My point is everyone agreed the movie was bad.

And fandom’s favorite thing to do, then and now, is to morally justify their taste.

Not just fandom. Critics. Analysts. We love to pretend there is a deep meaningful truth underneath what we do and don’t like. (There isn’t, but that’s okay).

The fight against the whitewashed casting was the first time many people had heard of the history whitewashing in Hollywood. The campaign against it gained mainstream press coverage.

But in a kind of, “Are these criticisms right? Is Hollywood racist? Or do they just hate fun? You decide!” way.

As someone going “uh, this is super racist”, it was both frustrating and eye-opening to learn how not mainstream that take was.

Before the movie came out, arguments about the whitewashing were heated and divided. Who says these characters have to be Asian? Maybe they just cast the best actors! Why does everything have to be about race? I had these conversations both online and in person.

But then people actually saw the movie and it sucked.

And they were pissed off about it. They felt a moral outrage at how badly their beloved show had been adapted.

But that’s a subjective moral outrage. After all, how bad of a crime is making a bad movie, really? But racism? That’s a real moral failure. One you can point to to buoy the opinion you already want to have.

After the movie came out, people defending its whitewashing basically disappeared. It was fun to dunk on the movie, and no one wanted to defend it any more anyway. The irony of things like it butchering the pronunciation of Aang’s name under the guise of “authenticity” while casting a little white boy to play what is clearly a Tibetan Monk was just too delicious a hypocrisy to lay at its feet.

Basically, accepting that the characters were Asian and Indigenous, and that it’s bad to cast white actors to play characters of color, was thrust into more popularity by the movies other failures.

People who hadn’t been privy to these conversations before the movie came out went to see this movie, had a terrible time, and were predisposed to accept criticism of it. So they were fully in a perfect mood to be given a lesson in Racism and Representation 101. And public consciousness spiked.

The organized effort to move the needle of popular discussion around casting in Hollywood would likely have actually been stymied if the movie had been good cinema. People would not have wanted to hear legitimate criticism of that really good movie they just saw.

Obviously the best outcome would have been both a good movie and an appropriate cast for said movie. A blockbuster action adventure family film led by an entirely poc cast that was critically acclaimed good entertainment in 2010 would have been incredible.

But that was probably never likely. Let’s be honest, sticking the landing on that adaptation was always going to be tricky (though I certainly never expected it to be THAT bad). And if it had been a flop and had an Asian cast, the 2010 media analysts would’ve blamed the casting.

So all things considered, the outcome we got was probably one of the better ones? If you do racist casting, then being a catastrophic failure on every other level is probably for the best. Then we can blame the failure on the racism, and Hollywood can seriously sit back and ask itself, “should we… at least talk about… being less racist? Maybe?”

And then they go on to whitewash a bunch more movies, but at least going “dude that sucks” is a way more mainstream response afterwards.

#timemachine wuz here #atla #avatar the last airbender #the last airbender

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writingquestionsanswered · 5 months

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i want to write a character that acts as a mom friend/caretaker and show the emotional toll/baggage that comes with constantly acting as that role. however, i struggle because i don’t want to depict them as some sort of savior. do you have any ideas on how to emphasize their role without making it feel like that?

thanks! :)

Avoiding Saviorism in Caregiver Character

1 - Examine Their Motives - Saviorism occurs when the help provided is self-serving in some way. So, one of the first things you should do (both as the writer and in the story) is examine the caregiver's motive for providing this help in the first place. Why do they think this person needs help? Are they doing it out of kindness or caring for the person, or is there some other benefit that is fully or partly behind their actions. Make sure they don't brag, romanticize, or show off their role in caring for this person or trying to help them. Make sure they examine their own privilege and bias and how that impacts their motivation to help, the help they want to give, and the way they want to give it.

2 - Avoid "I Will Save You" Mentality - Another element of saviorism is positioning themselves as the rescuer and the other person as the victim they are saving from danger, poverty, an unhappy life, etc. They're so focused on saving the person, they never consider whether their help is wanted or needed, or how their biases and perception envisions problems that don't exist for this person.

3 - Avoid Forced Advice/Help - Make sure this character is only offering help and advice that is asked for/welcome. Advice and help that is unsolicited and even forced can be problematic. You should also make sure the character doesn't just assume their help is wanted, needed, or the best solution. Give them opportunities for meaningful discussions about what the person actually wants and needs from them, and have the caregiver character truly listen and respect their wishes.

4 - Avoid "My Way or the Highway" Help - The "help" provided by saviors often comes with strings attached or a controlling mentality, so avoid that and make sure the caregiver character isn't attempting to control the person they're helping. Any help and advice they give should be no strings attached.

5 - Make Sure the Support/Care is Consistent - Because saviorism is usually self-serving, the care and support is usually only offered when it is convenient or relevant to the savior. So, make sure your character's care and support of this person is consistent, always evident and always available, and never wavers just because it's not a good time for the caregiver or beneficial in some way.

6 - Don't Make the Caregiver the Hero of Person's Story - As the writer, it's super important that you don't position the caregiver (or help giver) as the hero of the other person's story. Avoid centering their role as an agent of change in the character's life, or suggesting that they aren't capable of helping themselves. Show the person's ability to stand on their own two feet and "save" themselves, and illustrate the benefit of the caregiver's help and that it is indeed welcome and not unwanted or forced.

By taking the above into account with your portrayal, you should hopefully be able to avoid making the caregiver character feel like a savior.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 7 days

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Surprise Visit Pt 2 (Thor X Son!Reader)

Characters: Thor Odinson X Son!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: None

Pt 1

Request: Hi, I'm just finish Poco's udon world, and right of the batch I thought what if Poco is Thor's son, Poco has some of his feature too and I remember your fic Surprise Visit. Can you please do a Part 2 of it?🥺 reader is like Thor but he quite shy and always bring with books that his mother read before bed they bonding by activities together Thor bring him to Asgard to meet his grandparents Loki read them books, tell them stories, show and teach them magic (Harry Potter) with Freyaa and all fluff❤

The first few days after finally meeting your dad had been awkward to say the least. You were spending almost every waking moment either with him, or your uncle. You had expected that Loki would be a lot more awkward with you- or straight up wouldn’t like you from the get go, but it ended up being kind of the opposite. Thor had been a bit too eager from the get go to play the fatherly role, and you found it unnerving, and when Thor realised that (with help from Clint and Steve pointing it out for him) he backed up and started to just try and get to know you, your interests, your dislikes, and take things a little slower. Loki, on the other hand, was nowhere near as pushy, gave you space, and didn’t force conversation on to you. Eventually though, you ended up finding something to bond with Loki over; Books.

You had been interested in the books he read, even if you couldn’t read the language, and worked up the courage to ask him about it, and after an explanation, he asked what kind of books you liked, and it was a start of an actual long and meaningful conversation. Loki took that, and hinted that Thor should look into those books. The next day, Thor showed up to your room with a pile of books in his arms and a grin on his face.

Things since then had got a lot better between you and your dad. Instead of forcing it, or acting the part for the sake of it, Thor had naturally fallen into the father role that made it a comfortable change for you. Thor had little interest in books, but you had the ritual with him now of him buying a book for you, you read it, and after every chapter, you give him a rundown of what happened in detail, and you’d discuss it. You’d opened up a bit with him over the weeks, about what your life was like growing up with mum, holidays, key memories for you, and the rituals you two had- including reading books before bed together, which was where your love for books came from. Thor soon got you some of the books you mentioned, so you could do it with him. You got into a nice rhythm of living with and being around your dad and uncle, to the point where you were expecting it when an advancement was suggested.

“How do you feel about going to Asgard with Loki and I, tomorrow?” Thor asked, as you were tidying up after another late night discussion about a book you had been reading- this one actually a recommendation from your Uncle Loki. You stopped what you were doing, and looked over at Thor, who waited patiently.

“Uh… sure. Okay.” You agreed hesitantly, and immediately his face lit up. You had long guessed this conversation would happen, so you had time to prepare for it, though you knew that was actually impossible. What could prepare you for going to the land of gods- where you know you didn’t belong, even if Thor was your father? “Do… Do they know about me?” You asked cautiously.

“Of course!” He immediately answered. “As soon as I returned to Agard after we met, I told mother and father about you, and my friends! I wanted to tell the entire kingdom, but mother- your grandmother, insisted we wait till you met them all first before telling the rest of Asgard. Freya, your grandmother, is the most eager to meet you.” He gushed to you. You’d heard a lot about your grandparents through both Thor and Loki. Admittedly, Thor was the only one who talked about Odin, and while Loki didn’t talk much about them, when he did, it was always about Freya, about how she was also a bit of a bookworm, and how she taught him magic.

You got up early the next morning, mostly due to struggling to sleep from the anticipation, and you didn’t have to wait for either your dad or uncle to be ready either, though you couldn’t tell if it was due to excitement or nerves, or maybe they were both feeling those things- your dad the excitement, and Loki the nerves. It didn’t help that your dad was a raving optimist, and your uncle was a pessimist, so you couldn’t tell who was feeling the right way, so you just adopted a bit of each of their emotions. Cautiously excited.

You honestly wasn’t sure what to expect when you actually got there, or even the process of getting there in the first place, but as soon as you left the Bifrost, you were in awe. Sure, they had told you all about Asguard- the rainbow path that led to it, the great kingdom, the beauty of it all, but none of that was in comparison to what you were actually seeing. You remained in stunned silence the entire walk up the bridge, actually entering into Asguard, past the several hundred people who came to welcome them back and ask about you, up until your father actually called for you, after seeing you distracted by something else further away. You turned, seeing several people stood with your father and uncle, looking at you smiling. “Y/N, these are my friends, Fandrall, Hogun, Volstagg, and Sif.” Your father introduced you.

“So this is the little prince?” Sif questioned with a smile.

“Little? Thor, you said he was a boy! Give it a few years and he’ll be ready to be king!” Volstagg laughed, though the mention of such a role made you look at Loki quickly, and then your dad.

“He is a boy! The very idea of being king is still a long way away- you make it sound like he’ll outlive me.” Thor defended.

“Speaking of Kings.” Loki spoke up, placing hand on Thor’s shoulder.

“Right! Haven’t had the chance to introduce him to the rest of his family. We’ll pick this up later, promise.” Thor told them motioning you over, and guiding you deeper into the kingdom, down several expansive corridors, before you turned a corner, and spotted a group of women talking in the hallway ahead, and your father and uncle stopped. “Loki, stay here with Y/N.” Thor requested, before going towards the group, and you looked up at Loki confused, who patted you on the shoulder. You watched as your father approached the group, made some small talk, before all the women except one left down another hallway, and Thor stepped to the side, motioning the woman towards you and Loki, and you realised who she must be. Freya. Your grandmother.

As soon as she saw you properly, she smiled warmly, hands clasped and pressed against her chest with excitement, and any fear you had- fear of not being liked, or not meeting their standards, of being a disappointment, being looked down on for being half human- it all faded. You could feel the love and acceptance radiating off the woman as she reached out her hands, and took your own. “Y/N, words cannot describe the absolute joy I feel to finally be in your presence finally after all of Thor’s descriptions.” Freya told you, gently squeezing your hands, and you couldn’t help but smile too.

“I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you too from dad and uncle Loki.” You told her, and her smile grew, before she pulled you closer and wrapped an arm around you.

“Thor- Loki, go tell your father that you’re here with Y/N- I’ll give Y/N a tour of the palace- we’ll be in the library when you’re done. We have a lot to talk about.” Freya decided, already walking away with you, and you didn’t fight it, leaving with her.

Thor and Loki did as ordered, finding their father, letting them know they’d also brought you, and after a bit of back and forth questioning where exactly you were, and Loki explaining their mother had already stolen you away herself, and Odin simply sighed, and got up to follow his sons to head to the Library.

By the time they met back up with you and Freya, you and her were already getting along like a house on fire- she’d asked about your mother, her health, your childhood, her own expieriences that related when raising Thor and Loki, and when she heard about your little tradition with Thor with books, she picked out a book for you to take home to read, and to keep. You felt comfortable enough with her to ask about Loki and Odin’s relationship, the comment Thor’s friends made about being King one day and how you weren’t big on the idea, and also how according to how your dad and Loki talked about Odin, you were much more worried about meeting him than her. Freya had answers your questions, reassured you of your worries, and promised Odin would be on his best behaviour, and she helped your first meeting with Odin a lot from the get go.

As soon as Freya saw her husband, she stood first, smiling. “Odin, thank you for joining us. I was just about to ask Y/N if they’d like a private family dinner. What do you think?” Freya asked him, wrapping an arm around you again, and you smiled nervously at your grandfather, who was a lot more intimidating than you had anticipated. Odin didn’t talk at first, stepping a little closer, and you panicked internally, not knowing what to do, if you were supposed to do something- but Freya had kept her arm around you, gently rubbing your arm in reassurance.

“That can certainly be arranged. It’ll let us get to know our grandson. Thor, will you come with me to make the arrangements?” He asked, of his oldest, who nodded. “See you at dinner, Y/N.” He told you, before making his leave, Thor smiling at you, before following after him.

“In the meantime.” Freya spoke up once the two were quite a distance away. “Y/N, want to learn some magic?” She asked.

“Mother, I don’t know about that…” Loki fussed.

“Just beginning spells, nothing serious… we’ll save that for later. Maybe you could mentor Y/N as well when back on Midgard.” She suggested, and you realised that maybe, just maybe… Loki got some of his mischief from his mother.

“Am I able to do magic? Since I’m half human?” You questioned.

“I believe so, it’s worth a try. You coming Loki?” Freya questioned her son, who simply sighed, and followed after, deciding to be apart of his mother’s antics, knowing that Thor might lose his mind when he finds out about this.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my Gif

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