#focusing too much on getting it perfect IMMEDIATELY has really killed my productivity over the past year O_o | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

obey-me-rot · 3 years

Text

You're Mine

A/N: I guess as a writing blog I should be doing some writing right? Honestly this has just been the biggest headcanon I've had in a while since I started playing Obey Me of the brothers just...like Devildom culture must be so different! And then the whole pact thing with human masters must be so different as well! I just view them as big animals just wanting to get your attention u wu. Warnings: Jealous boys, public shows of dominance and a lot of biting.

It's almost painful being in the Devildom sometimes.

A cultural exchange program amped up to 100 %.

As much as you loved the brothers, you also were meeting some pretty cool demons in RAD. Surely you were the human student everyone was so excited to meet, but none of them really talked to you, you know? But there were some that were brave enough to overlook your pact marks and dive into a conversation.

Even some were bold enough to talk to you out of school!

Making so many friends was so exciting, especially since you still thought of yourself as new! Wait till the brothers see how many new demons you have met!

Problem is you forgot how weird demon culture is, especially when it has to do with a demon and their master.

"MC?"

Lucifer blinks as he notices the demon approaching the two of you, pausing your daily walk with him as confusion turns to familiarity and you run up to greet your friend.

The first thing he notices is how they are a low ranking demon, so there’s no need to be hyper aware of any sort of threat. In this instance he doesn’t need to look to make sure his pact mark is visible to the demon.

His mark was embedded right in your iris, so anyone could see whose protection you were under.

He smiles politely as you turn around to introduce them, the demon waving at him shyly as if remembering that, yes, this human made a pact with Lucifer and therefore should not be messed with in any way. Yet there was no sort of violent tendencies coming from this demon, which put him at somewhat of an ease.

That is, until the demon takes a hold of your hand.

It’s a simple touch, one that a human would mistaken for a sign of friendship and camaraderie. The demon was speaking excitedly about a new flower they had seen over at the Botanical gardens and how much they wanted to show it off to you.They tighten their hold and Lucifer has to dig his fingernails into his palm from ripping their hand off.

You had no idea what it meant and the action would most likely scare you.

And Lucifer wanted you to trust him as much as possible.

“Would it be okay if Lucifer comes along?”

“...y--yeah! I don’t mind!”

Hesitation mixed with fake happiness, this demon really thought that he would get some time alone with you, didn’t they? They probably planned this whole thing out and whatever excitement they were showing you was just a front to hide their true intentions. Besides, look how they are hanging off of you, they want to make a pact with you so badly it’s almost disgusting.

Might as well get rid of the pest now.

“Come on MC, I want to show you the huge petals--!”

“OW!”

You and the demon look back to see Lucifer biting down on one of your fingers, your ring finger to be exact, while making eye contact with the pest. His teeth are not necessarily breaking skin but the pain of the bite made all your attention go back on him, turning around to tug your finger away and cradle it close. “Lucifer what the hell!”

He smiles and tells you not to worry about it, your retort falling on deaf ears as Lucifer’s eyes fall on the demon one more time. Their eyes are wide and they have immediately taken two steps back, their back as straight as a needle as Lucifer sends them one last look that lets them know of his intentions.

Leave now or I will gut you in front of my human.

You turn to apologize to your friend for putting them in such a weird situation but the demon is already long gone, no sign of them ever being in your presence as you look around aimlessly.

“They left...” you frown and look at Lucifer, “Next time at least warn me.”

“If I did then you would have probably forbidden me from doing so.”

The Avatar of Pride smiles as he takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as you kept talking about how you would apologize the next day. But Lucifer wasn’t listening, he just kept staring at you as you talked, happy that his master wasn’t particularly mad.

That demon would have to learn to get his own, this human was already his.

He had finally gotten you all to himself.

Mammon had a photoshoot today, making you tag along so he could finally show off his modeling skills. And it would help him out as well. The product they were trying to sell did not appeal to him one bit and he just really needed you as inspiration.

And inspiration did you give.

“Oh gorgeous Mammon gorgeous! Lean back and close your eyes.”

The cameraman was giving him compliment after compliment, excellent after excellent, it was as if all eyes were on him at that exact moment. He smiled as he thought about how you must be looking at him. His shirt was open, letting the cloth hang off the side of the couch as the camera focused primarily on the low riding jeans that showed off the boxers he was promoting.

“Perfect! Perfect!! Now turn around and stare into the camera!”

His eyes opened and his head turned expertly, Mammon smiling as he tried to make eye contact with you--

Only to see that you were gone.

Camera flashes stop as he bolts up, turning to look for you before his eyes focused on your form.

There you were...talking with someone else.

“Mammon?”

He doesn’t stare at the cameraman, only gets up and stalks towards you and the demon currently holding up the lights. Both of you turn to face him, a voice speaking loudly about a five minute break as Mammon stands behind you and hugs you from behind, placing his chin right on your shoulder as he looks at the interloper.

“Are you taking a break?”

Mammon smiles as he buries his face in your shoulder, hugging you tight as the demon tells him he did a wonderful job. Without raising his head, Mammon speaks up.

“MC, who is this?”

“Oh right! Haven’t introduced you. He is a friend from RAD! We sit together in Pactology 101.”

“Well we used to sit together...”

“We talked way too much in class, didn’t we?”

It’s like nails on a chalkboard when he laughs, Mammon feeling glad that he was closer to you so he could hear the sound of your laughter instead of the ugly screeching of the intruder taking up your attention. Did this guy think he was stupid? That he couldn’t notice all the goddamn pheromones he was releasing? Mammon shakes his head back and forth, breathing in your scent heavily as he tries to leave his own behind.

This guy was embarrassing himself with how badly he wanted to form a pact with you.

“MC.”

“Oh oh, remember when the teacher caught us texting in class?”

“I think he might want to just put us back together cause we are still causing trouble!”

The Avatar of Greed frowns, did you not hear him?

“MC…”

“Well the teacher knows we are a good match, doesn’t he?”

“A match made in hell, I would say.”

Why was this guy still talking? Why were you still listening to him?

“MC….”

“Hey after this...would you want to go get some coffee, MC? If you’re not busy.”

“Nah, I only have this toda---FUCK!”

A pair of teeth tug at your earlobe, Mammon growling in your ear as he makes eye contact with the annoyance in front of him. He should be counting his lucky stars that you were still in the room, if Mammon found him anywhere else this demon would be nothing more than a meal for his familiars.

“MC, you have to stare at me or else I’m going to take longer.”

You rub at your ear as Mammon lets go of you, breaking eye contact with the other demon as he gives you his signature pout. He didn’t want you to see him be all scary, Mammon wanted you to see him like the number one demon he always tried to be for you.

“And you had to bite me because of that!?”

“Because you weren’t paying attention! You have to keep your eyes on me or else I’m not going to sell this stupid product. In fact--”

He drags you back to the couch, yelling at the cameraman that he would be posing with you so he could actually get through this photoshoot instead of doing a solo shoot. The man sighs but calls makeup to get you ready, Mammon smiling as he sits down right next to you.

The farther you were from that guy the better, all of his master’s attention needed to be on him after all.

Of course something like this would happen. Bad luck seemed to follow Leviathan wherever he went.

"Did you see the finale of it live?"

"I did!!! My movie theatre put it on the big screen and everything!"

Levi was glad that you were a nerd just like him. It was refreshing and probably one of the biggest reasons he had decided to make a pact with you.

Well, he had tried to kill you first and then make a pact with you but it was still a special story! Who would have thought that he would land himself a human master with his own interests!

Though he guessed that was a bad thing now.

He couldn't keep his thoughts in check as the clerk of the comic store kept talking to you, Levi annoyed that he couldn't keep up with the conversation you two had. It was about some comic cinematic universe that had been adapted in the human world and he honestly didn’t want to put anymore thought into it because of how close the clerk was getting.

Dammit he should have bought the new manga volume in Akuzon...but you had been so cute irl asking him to get the manga in this comic store you found,and if his master was begging him so cutely then what else could he do?

“I actually got the limited edition of this one movie--”

Nobody cared.

“It was up for a lot in Akuzon but I’m glad I got my hands on it--”

Stop talking!

“And I have a pretty cool viewing set up in the back--!”

Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking, stop talking to MC!

Levi frowns as you gush about the movie some more, glaring down at you for letting your attention stray from him. But why should he be surprised, of course your attention would stray. Him being the yucky otaku that he is, of course you would go with the demon who took his interest and actually turned it into a profit--

No.

No! It wasn’t your fault! It wasn’t even his fault! It was this demon’s fault!

Thinking they looked so cool with their most basic of interests. If Levi could expose them for the fraud that they were, MC would be able to see the absolute fool that this demon was making themselves out to be. Smiling a lot more, inching closer as they talked, even offering to take you to the back of the store--!

People may say what they want about Levi but at least he wasn’t this desperate to get on the good side of a human...at least the first time he met you.

His eyes fall on the back of your neck, hair conveniently placed out of the way as he remembered something Lucifer had discussed with him and Mammon after they had made their pact.

You will not think rationally when you are with them, make sure to monitor your actions so you don’t embarrass yourself.

That’s what he said but…

Surely Levi wasn’t going to embarrass himself more than this demon already has.

“This is the one with the symbiote creature, right? And you got the bonus deleted scenes! Honestly I would be so down with watching it right--EEP!”

Levi made sure to let his tongue lick the back of your neck first before biting down, wanting to make the bite as painless as possible. Although he guessed that not making you feel pain was out of the question as he felt you tense up, his tongue swiping against your nape one last time as he pulled back and tugged on the back of your shirt.

“MC let’s go. They don’t have it.”

You turn to look at Levi, hand on the back of your neck as you tell him that he could have gotten your attention in any other way, but he knew for a fact that he had made his point across with the demon in front of him.

Summoning Lotan in his own home was one thing, summoning Lotan in a store would probably cost a lot…

Even if he knew brothers wouldn’t blame him with how nauseatingly this demon was trying to approach their master.

“MC, here.”

Satan breaks his pencil, but it seems the two other people don’t seem to notice.

“And it's the first edition too, but I took it out just for you.”

You smile and mention about how you didn’t need anything fancy for the assignment, just a simple book that talked about Devildom history. Which Satan agreed, this bug was acting like he owned the entire Royal Library. A pass to get a first edition title wasn’t that rare of a fucking find--if he wanted, Satan could call up any of his connections and get about 16 copies of different first edition titles that spoke not just about the Devildom history but about whatever the hell topic he could get his hands on.

This guy wasn’t that special yet he was acting like he had just given you the world on a silver platter.

The demon sat down at the table you and Satan were studying at, looking at you the entire time he explained how to open the book and how to make sure it stays in its pristine condition.

Which made Satan break another pencil.

From what you had mentioned, this guy was just someone you knew from RAD. You labeled him as the ‘smartest person in the class’. Which was a bit of an insult on his part but he guessed that as long as he wasn’t the one in your class it didn’t count as an insult towards his person.

He, of course, being the smartest demon you know.

But Satan didn’t have to be the smartest demon in RAD to know what this nuisance was doing.

If he were to read you any book on Devildom demonology, certain demons needed a human master. This insect in front of you would count as one of them. Lower demons usually tend to be without guidance and need a soul to feed from. In comes a human master, being able to fulfill that need with a pure soul of their own. The demon feeds and in return, develops a sort of ‘affection’ towards their master since they are now the hand that feeds them.

The same couldn’t be applied to Satan or his brothers, however. As the seven demon lords, they are able to gain the sustenance they need from the feed of other lower demons under the sin they were made in.

They are free to form pacts, but it’s not like they need it.

A good metaphor would be that they are essentially ‘picking off the plate’ of the lower demons, making the lower demons only cause minimal casualties up in the human world as they feed and keeping the seven lords from going feral with hunger.

Of course, things were different now. Satan had you now, a human all of his own.

Essentially, someone was trying to ‘take a bite’ of his favourite food, and Satan hated sharing.

Friends be damned, politeness be damned, he needed to show this demon his place.

“Isn’t it fascinating? The cover was made with a demon’s skin.”

“....really?”

“Yes. I believe it was from recently dead demon’s during the first Celestial War. Do you want to feel?”

You nod, curious about the black and shiny cover as the demon holds out his hand for you to take--

Only for you to yelp as Satan takes it first, dragging your hand back so it would be close to his lips as the Avatar of Wrath’s teeth bite at the skin near your wrist. You hiss in pain at the sudden sharpness, quickly pulling your hand back and staring at your demon as he gives the annoyance one last pointed stare.

“That is how demons started their pacts before we arrived in the Devildom, wasn’t it?”

The demon nodded slowly, his eyes darting to the mark on your wrist and then back at Satan. He opened his mouth to try and speak up but seemed to decide better against it, giving you one last smile as he stood up. “...I’ll...I’ll go get you the second volume. That one might include more accurate and updated information on pact markings.”

Satan smiles and nods as he scoots his chair close to you, looking back at you tracing the mark on your wrist with a frown before putting all your attention back on him.

“Did demons really used to form pact marks like this?”

The Avatar of Wrath shrugs.

“I was only guessing, he was the one who left thinking it was the truth. Here, let’s go look for a book on our own.”

Asmo would like to think that he had perfected the fake smile to the point he could keep it up for an indeterminate amount of time.

“MC! Try this!”

Yet the corners of his mouth twitched as he watched one of your friends, who happened to be a store clerk at Majolish, open the door to your dressing room to hand you another outfit they had picked out. And it wasn’t a bad outfit--!

Just...did they have to keep opening the door every single time?

Granted, he shouldn’t be in your dressing room in the first place but he insisted he would stay since you were only trying some shirts on! It wasn’t like he was seeing anything inappropriate and your pants were staying on the entire time.

This sight was okay for him because he was your demon and you were his master.

So it wasn’t right that some random nobody kept coming in to hand you shirts that they thought looked cute on you! That’s what you had Asmo for!

Yet here he was, secluded to sit down on the little chairs that someone would usually toss the unwanted clothes they wouldn’t buy. Which was already doing horrible things for his self-esteem.

“I learned a couple of things by working here. See? The color really matches your hair.”

The Avatar of Lust scoffs when he hears that. What exactly did the demon learn? How to match colors? Oh look, someone learned the basics of the color wheel, someone give them a medal.

“And since you are wearing something long at the bottom, it’s only fair that you go with something short on top.”

This demon is going to win an award for making basic observations, Asmo could already see it. What a future they had ahead of them.

“These colors are summery too so...it goes great with the weather!”

Oh he wants to gag, Asmo’s heard enough.

“You don’t think it’s too revealing? I do like the color though…”

Before the demon can answer, Asmo grabs your shoulders and pulls you back to him with a smile as he makes you look in the mirror.

“I think it’s revealing enough for the summer look you are going for...except can you maybe get it in a light pastel? Any color would do it just needs to be a pastel color if we want it to go with the light color of your bottoms.”

The demon deflates at the sudden lack of contact with you but nods as they step out, waving goodbye and stating once again how ‘gorgeous’ you looked. Which Asmo guessed was the only compliment they had in their arsenal.

Gorgeous didn’t even begin to describe you.

“I did like this color, Asmo. Does it not look good?”

“No it looks perfect on you! But--”

He tugs on the floral print top and smiles as he wraps his arms around your shoulders.

“Floral prints are extremely last season and I want you to be on a more neutral type of clothing. Just simple colors. This way we can add some jewelry--some of my own creation of course.”

Asmo smiles when you giggle, fixing your top and looking at yourself in the mirror a couple more times as you mumble to yourself about how Devildom summers seem rather temperate compared to the ones you were used to and how you wouldn’t need anything sleeveless.

Damn the Devildom summers, if they could even be called that at all.

His ears twitch as he hears the pest start to make their way back, Asmo’s smile dropping slowly as he looks down at your neck. This was the spot they kept staring at, wasn’t it? Shame it wasn’t decorated--

But he could fix that~ “I found some other colors that would go well with you MC, do you want to--”

“OW OW OW!”

Asmo’s teeth are right on your neck, turning to look back at the clerk with a smile and a little wave as he hums at the way you clench and unclench your fingers while looking at him through the mirror, wanting to ask just why he was doing this but the pain keeping you quiet. It was cute how much you were hurting but how you were doing absolutely nothing to stop him. This could technically mean that you approved of what he was doing, correct?

He lets go as the clerk immediately closes the door, you calling out for your friend but Asmo brings you back and makes you look at the mirror one more time.

“There we go. That’s a pretty mark, right MC? An Asmodeus Limited Edition item, just for you~”

If this kept happening, Beel was going to eat this demon.

“You need to try some Devildom food, MC! I promise it's good!”

Beel stomach growls again as you laugh, ignoring the parfait in front of you. He gives you a tap on the shoulder and your attention is right back to him. “Oh sorry, Beel. Here!” You scoop up the delicious frozen treat and feed it to him, Beel smiling as he takes another two bites of his hamburger and watches you and your friend talk. He actually had no idea that you had any friends in RAD and was happy to see that at least some demons were treating you nicely, compared to theo ones who had teased you when you first arrived.

Well he said teased, more like threatened to eat you.

He figured you would make friends fast though, you were nice and all the demons here were already attracted to human souls so it was bound to happen that one of them would have the courage to talk to you.

Yet this one seemed rather...eager.

“How about this. Hell’s Kitchen serves good food but I know this awesome corner in the wall place we can get some grilled bat sandwiches. Guts and everything.”

His stomach growls again, he knew of the place this demon was talking about and would most likely want to take you there himself if you ever asked.

Beel takes another two bites before waiting for you to feed him the parfait.

Nothing.

He frowns and stares at you again, the demon keeping your attention all to himself as you spoke about how you didn’t necessarily want to eat anything with guts in it. His eyes went to the parfait, watching some of the perfectly placed scoops slowly melt and droop down on the plate.

MC, pay attention to him!

This was his time with you! He didn’t mind if someone else stepped in and he was glad you were making friends but this demon was interrupting his mealtime!

He ate his burger, you fed him ice-cream, this is how it had always worked!

People could say what they wanted but Beel was a creature of habit, and he was in the habit of having you feed him.

Not just that, he was in the habit of having your attention all on him when it was his time to hang out with you.

Wasn’t this demon just being a bother? Didn’t you also want them gone?

They kept talking about all the stuff that clearly grossed you out, seemingly delighted with your reactions as they kept trying to egg you on to say yes to an outing. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were smiling the entire time, Beel would have already made the move to unhinging his jaw and--

“I promise I’ll treat you to the best ghost pepper pizza you’ve ever had. You’re free after this, right?”

Beel’s stomach growls, whether in hunger or anger Beel wouldn’t be able to say. All he knows is that this demon is bad news for both him and you.

So what would be the quickest way to make him back off?

“I’m not but I can take a raincheck--!”

You drop the spoon you were holding as Beel bites your cheek, throwing the demon one quick glimpse before letting out a few sounds that seemed to make up your name. The demon stares at you and Beel as the Avatar of Gluttony pulls away from you, licking his lips as you slowly put a hand on your cheek and turn to look at him.

“The parfait is gonna melt. I want another bite.”

“Beel…”

Eyes turn to the demon once again, Beel frowning as he takes a hold of your hand underneath the table.

“Please leave. If MC is going to eat Devildom food then they’ll eat it with me. The only thing you are going to do is gross them out.”

“So what did you want to talk about?”

Belphie frowned as your fingers gently played with his hair. That is not what he had asked for when he asked to lay on your lap. Belphegor wanted the usual way you would comb through his hair, both of you gently whispering to each other as the planetarium ambience lulled him to sleep.

“Well...uhm...I wanted to ask something important.”

And who the hell was this person? He peeked up to look at you smiling at the screen, frowning that you still didn’t seem to notice you were doing a shit job at giving him the attention he needed. Whoever this was had been on the line with you for a good solid ten minutes, talking about useless subjects such as their day and what they had for lunch. If anything, Belphegor had no idea how this thing was taking your attention. You were doing most of the talking anyway, they should just hang up and leave you alone to pay attention to your demon.

“We’ve known each other for a while.”

Belphegor most likely knew MC for longer...maybe.

“And honestly I haven’t met a human like you before. You just...I just expected humans to be something and you aren’t that so it threw me off.”

The Avatar of Sloth yawns as he buries his head in your lap, smiling at the darkness he found in the small crook of your thighs. He yawns again and closes his eyes to try and fall asleep but the grating voice of the demon on the phone was sending nothing but warning signals to his brain.

“So I wanted to ask something I didn’t think I would ask a human before.”

He really wanted to yell ‘get to the point’ or ‘hang up the phone’ but he knew that you would most likely shush him and tell him to be patient, which would then result in you gently pushing him away so you could talk somewhere more private. And he wasn’t ready to lose his favourite pillow just yet.

So he continued listening, tracing random shapes on your thighs as he felt his eyelids start to droop.

“I know you have seven pacts already…”

Damn straight.

“But would an eight be too much for you?”

That wakes Belphegor right up, eyes wide open and head turned to face up at you to see your reaction. Of course you would be surprised, this demon really had the guts to ask the current master of the Seven deadliest demons in the Devildom for a pact?

You better be grateful that Belphegor found comfort in your lap and would prefer to stay here, rather than go break the neck of the demon insolent enough to try to take his master away.

So go ahead, reject him.

“A pact? With me?”

What were you doing?

Don’t give him such a hopeful answer! Belphegor had to share you with six other demons constantly and those demons were his siblings! He was okay sharing with Beel but he drew the line at anyone else! Adding an eighth demon to that would be like asking for a bloodbath, a bloodbath with only one target.

Belphegor frowned as the demon started talking again, stuttering and jumping over his words like he was a dog who asked to eat their masters table. Which essentially he was, not like there was room for him anyway.

“I know I’m not like those brothers--”

Damn straight.

“But making a pact with you would make me really happy...is what I am trying to say.”

He wants to gag.

A part of him couldn’t blame the demon, you were perhaps the best master a demon could ask for, but you were already t a k e n.

And you were to blame too, you know?

You weren’t rejecting him like you should. The face you were making was far too surprised and flattered at the proposition given to you. Were you that greedy? Had Mammon rubbed off on you? You had seven of the most powerful demons under your command, what more could you possibly want?

As a master, you were doing a bad job at rejecting this insect and an even more horrible job at not paying attention to the actual demon you were tied to.

He turns his head back to the darkness of your thighs, feeling you shift as you also struggle to find an answer. This was becoming too much, if Belphegor didn’t act fast you were most likely going to say yes, just because you didn’t know any better!

Fuck it, you could try to push him off but Belphegor would hold on tightly, he had to save you from your mistake.

“Uhm. Well that is honestly really flattering. And eight pacts wouldn’t be so bad--”

You slap a hand over your mouth, your teeth biting into your tongue as you look down at the demon nipping at the inside of your thigh. Belphie looks up innocently, batting his eyelashes at you as he bites down a little harder--

“I’ll-try-to-have-an-answer-for-you-later-got-to-go-bye!”

Fingers hurry to end the call as Belphegor quickly lets go, smiling as you gape down at him.

“I was in the middle of a call!”

“I know.”

“Then what was that about!?”

The Avatar of Sloth shrugs as he closes his eyes.

“You weren’t paying attention to me. It made me mad.”

You sigh and lean back, Belphegor waiting for a few moments before smiling as he feels your fingers combing through his hair.

“Next time,just talk to me, Belphegor.”

He would have answered, but that would make him promise something he most likely was not going to do.

6K notes · View notes

wroetospotterwp · 3 years

Note

death eater x harry???? oR SOMEONE ELSE IDK AH

Dark Red

Pairing ✨: Harry Potter x Death Eater!Reader (Fem!) (also implies that reader isn’t in gryffindor n also set during OOTP)

Summary 💓: Y/N has been forced by her parents to follow in their footsteps and join the death eaters, it doesn’t help that her boyfriend is Harry Potter.

Word Count 🖊: 2,613

A/N 🗣: FIRST REQUEST FROM THE LEGEND HERSELF 🤌🤌 she first sent me an edit on tiktok and she was like idea, so we’ve went for it, also first song imagine! all the lyrics i’ll be using will be in italics but i’ve had to change pronouns to fit harry :)

Warnings ⚠️: swearing and made my heart ache a little, manipulation

Requested? 📮: yes! :)

Masterlist

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The rain was pelting hard against the window in Y/N’s dorm, the loudness of the rain drops smashing against the glass had awoken the girl from her slumber. She sat up from bed and leaned against her headboard.

Rubbing her eyes, Y/N adjusted to the dim lighting in the room. Everything in her life was just perfect, her grades were good, she had lots of friends, and last but most definitely not least there was Harry.

They had been dating for over a year now and Y/N could see it lasting, what she felt with Harry was something so indescribable, but it made her so happy. The two of them distracted each other from their lives. Y/N helped him take his mind off He Who Must Not Be Named, and he distracted her from her parents.

Her parents did not approve of their relationship, and Y/N knew it probably had something to do with the fact they secretly supported Voldemort. But she hadn’t ever told him that, for the matter she hadn’t told many peoples.

Y/N was staring at the top of her bed, her stomach beginning to turn. This usually happened when she got a bad feeling. Y/N focused on trying to figure out what might happen, fail a test? Have an argument with someone?

Y/N thoughts were going fifty miles an hour that she didn’t hear her friend wake up next to her. “You look deep in thought.” She joked, Y/N turning to face her. “What’s the matter?” Her friend questioned.

Y/N let out a sigh. “Something bad is about to happen to me.” She mumbled, knowing how ridiculous it might have sounded.

“You’ve been listening to Trelawney too much.” Her friend brushed off with a smile, but it slowly dropped when she saw Y/N’s expression. “Come on Y/N, what could possible happen?”

“I don’t know what, but I feel it coming.” Y/N voiced her thoughts to her friend.

“Let’s do something to take your mind off this.” Her friend suggested. Y/N thought that be the best. Normally when she didn’t feel great, if she did something else to busy herself, the thought usually disappeared.

“Where are you planning to take me?” Y/N questioned, she got out of bed and collected her clothes that she would put on.

“I need to go down to Owlery, I promised to send my sister something from Zonko’s.” Her friend informed her, going into the toilet to get dressed.

Y/N decided to just get dressed in the dorm, the other three girls were fast asleep so she felt comfortable changing. The two girls them left the dormitory once they were ready and headed out their common room.

There wasn’t many students around the castle yet, but this was around the time many of them would be waking up. Many would wake up so thankful it was finally the weekend and they could have some sort of freedom.

Umbridge’s rule over the school was making many reach breaking point, there were new rules almost every day and it was completely turning Hogwarts into a prison. They weren’t allowed to do anything, couldn’t act like normal teenagers, she was determined to make everyone prim, proper and to not challenge the Ministry.

There only hope was Dumbledore’s Army, the only freedom they had. But Marietta Edgecombe had ratted them out, and they were all severely punished. Y/N felt sorry for Harry, it was all going so well and once they were caught, he blamed himself. Y/N tried to reassure her boyfriend that it wasn’t his fault, but she couldn’t get through to him.

In fact, the two of them hadn’t really spoken since Umbridge began giving them punishments, Harry was isolating himself and kept his distance. Y/N was missing him but sometimes he did this, so she decided to let him have a moment to himself and then he would be back to normal.

The girls eventually reached the Owlery, Y/N’s friend immediately heading to find her owl so she could send the products from Zonko to her sister. Y/N looked around at the different owls, but one caught her eye.

It was her parent’s owl. And it had a letter tied around their talon. Y/N untied the letter, about to read it until her friend appeared behind her.

“Has Y/N got a love note from Potter?” Her friend teased her.

“Parents owl.” Y/N informed her friend, who raised both brows. Y/N’s parents hadn’t really kept in contact with her much when she was at Hogwarts, so receiving a letter was unusual.

“What did they say?” Her friend questioned.

“I’m not sure, I haven’t read it yet.” Y/N replied, laughing slightly as she thought of something. “Might be so sad, might leave my nose running.”

“If it’s just to bring you down, ignore them.” Her friend reminded her, her arm wrapping around Y/N’s shoulder. “Let’s head back up, I’m starving.”

Y/N agreed, the two girls heading up the castle for breakfast. They entered the Great Hall and were about to sit at their own house table before Hermione waved them over.

“What’s that?” Hermione questioned immediately as they sat down in front of her, the girl’s two best friends were nowhere to be seen, but not unusual for them to be late for breakfast.

“Nosy are we, Hermione?” Y/N’s friend joked, Hermione playfully shrugged it off.

“It’s a letter from my parents.” Y/N told her, placing the unread letter onto the table.

“Oh.” Hermione mumbled, most people knew what Y/N’s parents were like, she had either told them or heard Harry’s complaints about they didn’t approve of him and the relationship. “Is everything alright?”

“I haven’t read it yet. I will after I have something to eat.” Y/N replied, scanning the table to try and find something to eat. “Where’s the toast?” Her friend reaching and grabbing a piece of toast for Y/N.

The three girls just quietly ate breakfast for a while and enjoyed each other’s company, Ron tiredly stumbled towards them. “Nice of you to finally join us Ronald.” Hermione greeted as he sat down beside her.

“Hermione, I was exhausted.” Ron huffed, grabbing as much food as he could onto his plate, he always acted like he barely eats.

“You always are.” Hermione mumbled under her breath, going back to eating some porridge.

“Where’s Harry?” Y/N blurted out, poor Ron had been harassed by her since Harry started to isolate himself. Ron most definitely knew more than she did.

“Still getting ready, mate.” Ron spoke with his mouth full, Hermione pulling a face and scoffing. “I think he’s alright today, you know, I’d have a chat with him today.” He suggested.

“Thanks Ron.” Y/N smiled, finishing what she was having. Her eyes caught the letter again, she really didn’t want to open it but she was also desperate to find out what they want. With a quiet sigh, she picked up the letter and began to read it.

Dear Y/N,

We hope you are well at Hogwarts, Umbridge seems to finally be turning that school around for the better, I’m sure you’d agree.

Well you would have when you were younger.

We miss our old Y/N, always following the rules and in our footsteps. But every since you started to attend Hogwarts with that daft old man as your head teacher, you changed.

And of course that boyfriend of yours didn’t help either, just like his father, always in trouble. Poor Lily should’ve saved herself.

As you know, the Dark Lord is back. You know how we always felt towards him, but we fear he will target us because of your choices. Many have heard he won’t accept us, because of your closeness to Potter.

He may come after us Y/N, we need you back on our side. Otherwise we’re all dead, you don’t want Potter finding out you’ve been killed by him? He can’t lose another loved one to the Dark Lord.

Write back to us as soon as you can, we can guide you along the way.

All the best,

Mum and Dad.

Y/N eyes began to well up, she knew that feeling from this morning meant something, but for it to be this bad? How on earth she was meant to tell Harry this? “Everything alright?” Her friend put a hand Y/N’s shoulder, the latter had completely forgot where she was at the moment.

“I need to go.” Y/N informed them, quickly jumping up from the bench.

“What did they say to you?” Hermione questioned, but Y/N didn’t answer her. The girl made her way from the hall, eyes trained on the floor to avoid any eye contact from her friends. But that made it difficult to watch where she was going.

Y/N crashed right into someone. “I’m sorry.” She quickly apologised as she refused to look up, she just wanted to go back into her dorm room.

“Y/N?” A voice she could instantly recognise.

“I can’t talk right now, Harry.” Y/N rushed past him, she needed to think what she was going to tell him, if she was going to tell him.

“I just hope he don’t want to leave me.” She mumbled to herself.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It had been a few weeks and Y/N hadn’t said a word to anybody, her and Harry had completely switched places. She was the one isolating herself, trying to decide what to do. Ignore what her parents said, stay with her boyfriend and friends and hope to God nothing happens to them. Or risk listening to her parents, and possibly lose her relationships at Hogwarts?

She had been exchanging letters between her parents in the meantime to see what she needed to do, and it seemed to be to just join them at the Ministry, which didn’t seem so bad. Her parents worked high up for the Ministry anyway, so as long as they gave her permission to leave, Umbridge would let her.

Y/N had pretended to stay asleep until the rest of her dorm mates left, including her friend, before eventually getting up. The feeling in her chest was back from before, the one she got before her parents letter. “Something bad is about to happen to me.” She sadly mumbled, even the weather had mirrored her emotions, it was a dreary day, grey skies and gloom surrounded the castle.

Y/N fidgeted with her hands as she thought what would happen, anxiety fuelling her veins. “Why I feel this way? I don’t know…” She took a deep breath. “Maybe-“

The dorm door opened and revealed Y/N’s friend. “What the fuck is going with you?” She demanded. “What did they say to you to make you like this?”

“It’s complicated.” Y/N brushed off, should she tell her? She did tell her friend everything and maybe it would be good to have some advice.

After some deep breaths and forcing tears to stop falling, Y/N confessed to her friend everything. By the end of it, her friend was in complete shock, face contorting from confusing, to anger, to annoyance.

“And I just don’t know what to do about Harry.” Y/N sadly mumbled. “I think of him so much it drives me crazy.”

“Y/N, this is bad.” Her friend managed to stammer out.

“I just don’t want him to leave me.” Y/N cried, finally allowing the tears to fall.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N.” Her friend snapped. “Of course he will. Joining the people who support the being who killed his parents?” She raised a brow. “I’d definitely forgive you.” Sarcastically she finished.

“But he knows what my parents are like.” Y/N countered.

“I don’t think he’ll care.” Her friend pointed out, deep down Y/N knew the same, Harry would be extremely hurt by this. “How the fuck are you gonna get out this?”

“I don’t know.” Y/N shrugged. “You Know Who will kill them if I don’t help them.”

“Are you forgetting who your boyfriend is?” Her friend raised a brow.

Oh yeah, it would be completely fair on Harry to force him to protect her family. “Like he’s gonna show mercy.” Y/N huffed. “Harry was with Cedric and look what happened, he wants Harry and to just kill who gets in his way.”

It was silent for a moment, neither of them knew what to say. “What are you gonna tell him?” Her friend quietly spoke up, Y/N didn’t say anything. Her friend’s mouth fell open and eyes widened at Y/N’s lack of an answer. “You need to tell him.”

“And say what?! Sorry, I need to go help my Death Eater parents and probably do something for You Know Who.” Y/N snapped.

“I don’t know how to help you.” Her friend awkwardly mumbled.

Y/N knew she couldn’t. She was now trapped with no escape.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Y/N was at the Ministry with her parents, she still had no idea what they were doing or why they needed her, but it wasn’t as bad as she thought. The family got into an elevator and started to head down a few floors.

“Now, whatever you do, don’t talk.” Her mum warned her before the elevator stopped, the girl nodded and they walked out as the doors opened. Y/N could see Draco Malfoy’s father and another woman with curly black hair.

“Did it work?” Y/N’s father asked Lucius.

“I believe so.” Lucius replied, nobody really taking notice to Y/N.

“I can’t wait to meet him.” The black haired woman cackled.

“Now, now, Bellatrix. We have to leave him for the Dark Lord.” Lucius reminded her, the woman huffing dramatically. Y/N’s eyes widened, oh how she was praying they weren’t taking about Harry.

Please don’t be talking about Harry.

“What if he’s fine?” Y/N thought to herself. “It’s my mind that’s wrong. And I just let bad thoughts linger for far too long.”

“We’re going in. Have your wand ready.” Her dad whispered to her. They walked through a door with a handle in the middle into a huge room filled with crystal balls. She couldn’t study them for long before being dragged into the darkness.

The door had opened again a few minutes later, but Y/N couldn’t see who had walked in, only dragged by her parents deeper into the room.

“They should be here!” Harry’s voice was heard, Y/N’s heart dropping to her stomach. Why did he have to come here?

“Harry? It’s got your name on it.” Neville informed him.

“Follow Lucius.” Her mum whispered in her ear, Y/N reluctantly following him, who was now wearing a Death Eater mask.

“Harry!” Here it goes, Y/N kept back from Lucius as the group’s wands lit up the path, she desperately wanted to stay hidden and they would never know she was here.

“Where’s Sirius and Y/N?” Harry demanded as Lucius approached him.

“How fortunate we are to have Y/N right with us.” You could hear the smirk in Lucius’ voice, Y/N wanted to run and escape, but how could one girl manage to escape four Death Eaters?

“What are you talking about?” Harry angrily asked.

“Come on Y/N, don’t be shy.” Lucius gestures for her to come forward. Slowly and painfully, the girl got closer to Harry and the words kept repeating in her head.

“Don’t you give me up. Please don’t give up.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

thank you so much to @drearyxo for being my first request!! i hope this was class enough for you, no hate comments from you 🙄🙄

I HAVE TO SAY I LOVED WRITING THIS SO MUCHHHHH DEFO A FAVE i think you all know by now i’m definitely better at the dialogue part then anything else, but i’m quite proud of it all today :)

there could be a part two to this??? maybe, depends if people want it

hope you enjoyed!!

Taglist: @malfoysstilinski @drearyxo @just-a-bittersweet-tragedy @fizzleberries

#wroetospotterwp #harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter fluff #harry potter angst #harry potter fanfiction #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter imagine #harry james potter

152 notes · View notes

xshinigamikittenx · 3 years

Text

The Quiet Game

NSFW Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

MINORS DNI

You swear this class is going to kill you. With this much of a class load, there’s no time for friendships or romantic relationships, and that’s fine with you. They were just distractions anyway. It’s usually just the attendants and other students completing work studies at the library this late. This is usually perfect on most nights, but today is Friday, and you forgot he would be here...

Thank you SO MUCH to TrashyBee on Twitter for bringing Katsuki to life here. Good lawd 😩

A/N: Whew. Yet another one shot that ran away with me. lmaoooo. Couldn't really help it though, I mean...sheeeeesh. But child, anywaaays...this was fun. :) I'm also hoping you've been to a library and seen what the private study rooms look like, because it's kindof important here 😅 but if not here's an idea. Hope your future library thoughts are full of smut productivity!

9.5k words

CW/TW: semi-public sex, oral sex, clothed sex, vaginal sex, biting, swallowing, light degradation, gagging, fingering, hair pulling, deep thrusts, praise

You swear this class is going to kill you. Why the fuck did you choose to take on so many credits this year? Take more classes at once so you can finish early. The goal from the beginning was to get through university as quickly as possible so you could start making the money you knew would help keep you far away from home. Wealth is not something that runs in your family. Everything you get, you work for, and your degree will be no different. You keep your head down, focusing on one goal, to make enough money to support yourself and live the way you want. With this much of a class load, there’s no time for friendships or romantic relationships, and that’s fine with you. They were just distractions anyway.

Your roommates, however, don’t have that same logic. Some nights when you’re up studying, you can hear them, and whoever they brought back to the dorm moaning, the bed sometimes rhythmically bumping into the paper-thin walls. “Just like that...yes-yes-mmmmore. Ffuck! ” It’s...distracting, to say the least, and frustrating because your body’s reaction constantly betrays your mind's focus. Your thighs clenching together, your pulse quickening; no way in hell you can study in your room, especially not at night.

You shake the thoughts out of your head, looking up at the massive main library, your feet unconsciously moving forward. This is your sanctuary, the place you feel you can be most at peace, and finally give way to the maintained focus you knew you needed. The warm glow of the lights through the windows always makes you feel calm. The cold air whips into you as you push open the door and take in the endless rows and layers of books keeping you company. There’s hardly ever anyone here at this time, a discovery you made one night when you found yourself packing your books in frustration to escape the sounds coming from the next room in the middle of the night.

It’s usually just the attendants and other students completing work studies at the library this semester. This is usually perfect on most nights, but today is Friday, and you forgot he would be here. Your eyes land on his back, surveying him at a distance. The fact that he works here doesn’t quite compute with you. He’s built like he should be throwing a ball somewhere, all broad shoulders and toned arms. The sleeves of his olive green sweater are rolled up, emphasizing the lines and ridges of his toned muscles. It’s borderline irritating how good he looks, entirely focused on a mundane task. His blonde hair is somehow perfectly dishevelled, the lean form of his body bent over the desk, filling out some kind of paperwork while you walk in his direction. Usually, you would try to avoid him; talking to people, in general, is not a specialty of yours, let alone talking to someone who seems to have a short fuse.

You wait for a few seconds, thinking he’s got to know you’re there. He had to have heard the door open, right? But he hasn’t turned around yet, and thinking about actually opening your mouth to speak to him felt like the air was getting sucked out of the building. You were already introverted with high anxiety, and you did not need to feel uncomfortable right now, especially under the looming stress of this project which was due in two days. So you waited, hoping the subtle noises you were making, readjusting your bag, and taking a deep breath, would possibly get his attention. Fuck, this is taking too long; I’ve got to say something. “Um...hey.” Jesus Christ, really couldn’t think of anything better to say? You practically sneer at yourself at how lame you sound, but this certainly got his attention. He turned half of his body towards you, one of his scarlet eyes glaring at you over his shoulder. His face was rather expressionless, betraying the scorching feeling his eyes deliver, making you suddenly self-conscious of what you looked like standing in front of him. You didn’t think about what you were wearing when you left your dorm, throwing on a go-to pair of leggings and the first hoodie you saw before storming out of the overly cramped room, leaving the heavy breaths and moans of your neighbour behind you.

“Oi, you need something? Speak up.” Your face immediately flushed. The heat rising up your neck and blooming across your face, triggering your palms to start sweating. You didn’t think you were unnecessarily quiet; it’s a fucking library. You knew he was an asshole, but what the fuck did you do to him? Before you think about it anymore, you shift your thoughts towards how to respond to him, coming up blank. You grip your bag tighter, your mind racking itself, but the anxiety has already caught hold of you, and it’s as if you're stranded on an island with no help in sight. So you resort to your usual defensive mechanism; you bite back.

“So, what...? You want me to scream to get your attention?” He turns his body toward you, putting the full picture of himself on display. You’ve never been this close to him, actively avoiding him after hearing him ream other students out for being too loud or misplacing books. You didn’t realize how intimidating his stature was until now, being less than six feet away from him.

He wasn’t excessively tall, but his posture would convince you otherwise. Even as he leaned back against the length of the desk behind him, he was still probably a handful of inches taller than you. He lifts his glasses to rest on the top of his almost unruly blonde hair as he speaks, “Can’t say why I would find screaming necessary in a library, but if you need something, you should say it clearly so I can help you and not have to spend five minutes of my time explaining common courtesy to someone who knows better.”

Your annoyance is suddenly replaced with rage at his words. What the fuck? Is he trying to put this on me? Doesn’t he fucking work here? Isn’t it his job to pay attention if someone needs help? You’re even more pissed because you wouldn’t have to deal with this shit if you could study in your room. The constant reminder of your roommate getting railed while you were trying to work made that impossible, so here you are. It’s not like you wanted to ask him for help, but you need access to a private study room, and you have to request it from the attendant. Except for tonight, when you’re pent up and stressed, you have to deal with him. “I wouldn’t have to speak up if you were doing your job, asshole.” Fuck. He’s distracting me. I don’t have time for this. You watch his face as one of his eyebrows lift while he places his large hands on the ledge of the desk behind him, baring the outline of his toned chest stretching the fabric of his sweater. “Now, I know you’re not that much of a dumbass. What do you think I was doing before you walked in here and started wasting my time?” Your eyes widen, inadvertently travelling the length of his body, from the smug ass expression resting on his face to his rippling arms, tense as his hands grip the dark wooden desk. For some reason, this annoyed you even more; why did he have to be insulting and infuriatingly attractive?

His lips curl into a smirk, revelling in the glare you’re aiming at him. Dumbass? Is this asshole for real? At this point, he’s pissed you off past the point of giving a fuck. You would’ve walked away by now if you didn’t actually need his help. But if he wants to play this game, fine. A smug smile spreads across your face as you speak, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was speaking to someone who was unable to multitask. Your life must be so hard, huh?” He drops his head, laughing as he pushes himself off the desk, taking a step toward you. Your hands grip your bag tighter as he comes closer, lifting his head so his ruby-coloured eyes meet yours. “That’s pretty fucking hilarious coming from someone who’s at the library in the middle of the night on a fuckin’ Friday.” He straightens up, shoving his hands in his pockets as he continues, “Seems more like your life is hard, and you’re just pissed off about it.” His gaze is piercing, attempting to slice through your facade of confidence, but you’re currently too livid to give a shit. You’re done talking to him, you just need to get into the study room and away from this asshole.

“No,” you seethe, “I’m pissed off because I can’t work in my room, I have shit to do, and this conversation is a waste of time.” You lift your head higher, meeting his gaze as he smirks down at you. “Oh, seems like I’m not the only one who can’t multitask then, huh?” He chuckles, watching you as you fold your arms and turn your head, breaking eye contact with him. “I just need one of the study rooms opened.”

“Oh, so you do need something,” he says, his voice dropping as he leans forward, bringing his face into your line of sight, his sharp features coming into focus. “You said it yourself, you wasted my time, so I think you can ask a little nicer than that.” You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to punch someone more than how much you want to punch his perfectly fucking chiselled jaw in that moment. Regardless of how much his face appeals to your more violent tendencies, you realize you don’t have an option. All of this bullshit will have been for nothing if you’re unable to get into that fucking room. Your jaw clenches, your teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek as your eyes bore into him. You make a point not to break eye contact when you speak through the smile you’ve painted on, “Oh, where are my manners...would you...please...open a study room so that I can get away from you?” You smile wider, contrasting the cold glare you shoot at him as he grins, watching your edges fray. He slides one of his hands out of his pocket, assessing you while he tosses the keys up in his hand, the dull metallic sound of their impact in the palm of his hand, peaking your annoyance further. “Well hell,” he says, “it’s about damn time.”

You roll your eyes as he catches the keys a final time, smirking at you before he turns to exit the enclosed space of the front desk. You readjust your bag and look up to follow him, balking at seeing him walk in front of you. He takes a few steps ahead of you, his coffee colored pants clinging to the muscles of his legs as he heads towards the back of the library where the study rooms are located. Fuck, his ass looks good. You’re grateful when you take a glance around you, suddenly conscious of what your borderline heated exchange probably looked like to anyone who could’ve seen it. Not to mention the fact that it probably definitely looked like you were staring at his ass just now. You refocus, remembering that you’re supposed to be following him. You train your eyes on the back of his neck, trying to keep yourself from fixating on his perfectly sculpted form; when you see him turn his head, eyeing you. His gaze travels up and down, then up to meet your eyes before he speaks, “For someone who claims to dislike wasted time, you sure are slow.”

Fuck. Did he catch me looking at him? Your chest tightens at the thought. Just hurry the fuck up and get to the room so you can do what you came here for. You signal your legs to pick up the pace until you’re almost in stride with him and looking straight ahead. You know where the study rooms are; you just need him to open it for you, but why does it feel like it’s taking forever to get there? Your body grows warmer, anxiety still pumping through you from your previous conversation. Now being alone in this giant space in silence is adding emphasis to the fact that you’re practically alone. You try to distract yourself, feigning interest in the books that line the shelves as you walk past them. We’ve got to be close now; just focus on the room. You look ahead, expecting to see the study rooms’ glass windows but instead are met with more shelves of books. What the fuck? Did they move them? How long have we been walking? You glance over at him, accidentally making eye contact because he was already looking at you.

Without thinking, you look away, and then you hear him speak, “Ya know, no ones usually here at this time on a Friday. Don’t you have better shit to do?” Seriously? If he’s going to be a dick, why is he even wasting his breath talking to me?

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t,” you bite back, too tangled up in your own thoughts to decipher anything less aggressive, “and I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want me to be here.”

He continues walking, and you push ahead of him, attempting to put some distance between you. You don’t need him to lead you to the room; the library is only so big. Getting there on your own and waiting for him to open it would be better than dealing with this bullshit. You see him looking over at you in your peripheral vision as you pass him, and he laughs. “You don’t wanna be here, but all of a sudden, you’re in a hurry. A little conflicting, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes. Fuck off. Is what you would’ve said if you wanted to continue this conversation. He would definitely have something to say to that. “Are you forgetting that I’ve got what you want?” You stop dead in your tracks and spin on your heels to face him, “Excuse me?” He doesn’t even flinch at your raised tone, you could practically hear your own voice echoing around you as he walks up to you, stopping inches away. He’s so close you can smell him, a warm scent of amber and oak catching you off guard as you hold your ground. His lips lilt into a mocking half-smile as he moves his hand towards you to dangle the keys directly in front of your face. “What? You want to get into the room, don’t you?” Your focus shifts from the keys to his crimson eyes, blurring everything else around you as your body reacts to the heat radiating off of his skin. He feels...warm. I wonder - Your gaze drops to his lips, maddeningly curled into a taunting smirk. “Well, now I’m wondering what you thought I was talking about.”

He pulls the keys into the palm of his hand with a metallic snap, the sound almost making you jump as your eyes widen. You find yourself holding your breath as the tightening in your chest climbs up to your throat. Say something. Fucking anything. Your face must tell him everything he needs to know, because he doesn’t wait for a response. “How’s this, I’ll let you off the hook if you tell me why you’re here, dealing with my bullshit, when you could be studying in your dorm.”

This is none of his fucking business, but it’s easier to answer than the previous question, so fuck it. “I can’t focus there.” He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly not satisfied with your answer. You roll your eyes and sigh, “It’s just...noisy. I can’t think straight.”

He laughs at your response, “Yeah I can see that you're easily distracted.” You feel his eyes hovering over your body before meeting your gaze and shifting his weight to start walking again. You take a deep breath, silently relieved that whatever the fuck that was is over. “There’s this invention,” he says as he walks ahead of you “called headphones, ever thought of using those?” You shoot daggers into the back of his head as he turns the corner and you see the study rooms up ahead. Thank fucking god. He sifts through the keys as he walks, locating the one he needed to open the door. His hands move to slide the key into the lock, “Tch. Unless you’ve got roommates that are loud when they fuck. Headphones might not help much.” You know this is a joke but the heat spreading through your face, and the way your body tenses up catches his attention. “Did I strike a nerve,” he asks, smirking at you as his hand grips the door handle.

“Just open the door.” He raises an eyebrow and you release an exasperated sigh, “Please.”

He swings the door open, holding it open as he waits for you to walk through. Finally. I can get this asshole out of my face and work. You walk towards the door, and you notice he isn’t moving. I can hold the door on my own. Why is he still standing there? As you move you eye the entrance to the room, realizing you’re going to need to get insanely close to him to get through the doorway. Fuck it. Just slip by him and move on. “Listen, I don’t bite,” he says, noticing your moment of hesitation with a sly smile. You roll your eyes, making a point to look him in the eyes as you attempt to get by him. His piercing gaze slices through you, stoking the flames within your core you’ve been harnessing all night; fuck, maybe all semester. You fail to keep the flush from blooming across your face, turning your head away from him as you attempt to brush past him. You can feel him watching you, it feels like heat is emanating from his skin, pulling you closer as you hear a low voice directly in your ear, “Unless you want me to.”

What? It was a split second that you were close enough to hear him. Your breath catches as you finally make it past him, his words echoing in your head. Did he just-? You turn around to face him, “What did you just s-“ but he was already leaving, walking back towards the front of the library, probably to finish working on whatever the hell had him so focused when you arrived earlier.

You turn away, your back towards the floor to ceiling window of the small room as your mind reels from the last thing he said to you. I swear I heard him correctly. But why would he say that? Am I fucking crazy? You mindlessly unpack what you need out of your bag and sit at the desk, trying and failing miserably for almost an hour to focus on your work. You find yourself repeatedly scanning the same page because you can’t stop yourself from looking over your shoulder to see if he’s nearby. You nibble at the tip of your pen, looking at the book in front of you and unable to comprehend a single thing. Your oral fixation is running rampant and your thoughts are nowhere near where they should be when the image of his lips slip into your head. What do they taste like? Your body reacts to the thought, squeezing your thighs together as your core tightens imagining his hands gripping your skin, his teeth sinking into you. Fuck. Fuck!

You turn your head again, wondering if there was any way he would be looking in your direction; his thoughts riddled with the same infuriatingly erotic images on a loop in your head. Then, you see him. His back towards you as he holds a stack of books in one arm to place on the shelves. Your eyes travel down the length of his body, the lines of muscle subtly evident through his clothes. You watch him as he reaches up to a particularly high shelf, and his sweater lifts just enough to see the definition of his lower back. Heat is building inside you, the stirring in your core causing your walls to clench, thinking about raking your nails across his back. Ffuuck...NO. Get your fucking shit together. Why would he want to fuck someone who has nothing better to do than study on a Friday night? Fucking focus. You try to gather your thoughts, but must’ve mistakenly zoned out while you were looking at him, because as soon as your eyes refocus you see his head turned in your direction, one cinder red eye smoldering into you.

Fuck! Your body stiffens, unsure what else to do besides just go back to pretending you were working on this project. That’s basically what you’ve been doing since you sat down anyways. And for what? Just for you to embarrass and distract yourself just enough for this entire ordeal to be a colossal waste of time.You start to gather your things, applying more force than necessary to shove everything back into your bag. Fuck this. I haven’t gotten anything done and it’s been two fucking hours. I should’ve just stayed in my room, used my vibrator and moved on. At least I would’ve been able to think straight.

“You must do that often, huh?”

Your eyes widen and you immediately turn your body towards the source of the voice coming from the doorway. Your eyes land on his waist, then to the large hands in his pockets as he seems to take up all the remaining space in the room. You catch a glimpse of the student ID on the lanyard threaded through his belt loop. Katsuki Bakugo. You didn’t even bother to check the picture before you looked up, eyes connecting with the same asshole smirk you’ve been replaying in your head since you sat down. I didn’t say all of that shit out loud did I?

“What are you talking about,” you snap. You really don’t feel like playing this game with him. You already made up your mind that you were leaving, there was no way in hell you were going to stick around to get made fun of. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Ha. That’s a good question,” he takes a step, crossing the length of the room to lean against the desk inches away from you. “I have a better question though. How long have you been watching me instead of working?”

It feels like your brain short circuits. Did he catch me looking for him earlier? Fuck!

“I-” it suddenly dawns on you that the only way he would’ve seen that is if he was looking at you. You just didn’t see him.

You smile up at him, crossing your arms as you lean back in your chair. “The only way you could even think that, is if you were watching me. So you tell me, Katsuki, how long was it?”

He grins as he places his hands on the edge of the desk on either side of him and leans down towards you, his face inches away from yours. His eyes hold your gaze, his crimson eyes blazing like an unhinged wildfire as he speaks, “See, it’s my job to watch you. I work here, dumbass,” he says, his eyes dropping down to your chest as you cross your arms even tighter. God, I’m such an idiot. Of course he’s watching me because he has to. What the fuck was I thinking? Further embarrassment creeps across your face at the thought of even considering that he wanted you. Then, he leans in closer, the sound of his voice a warm whisper against your ear as he speaks, “What’s your excuse?”

You almost stop breathing. Your thoughts frantically trying to come up with something; anything that wasn’t the truth. You come up blank, your expression must’ve given him the answer he was looking for, because he laughs. He laughs in your face, and as much as you want to be completely pissed off, you’re distracted by the glint of the piercing poised in the center of his tongue. Fuck.

Subduing his laughter he sits up just enough to look down at you, raising an eyebrow as he smirks, “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? That I was watching you because I wanted to?” You glare at him, the all consuming mixture of rage and embarrassment spreading through you as your face flushes. Your nails are digging into your arms so hard that you can feel it through your sweatshirt. You can’t think of a single thing to say, but your mouth moves without thinking.

Your eyes connect, and you spit out exactly what your mind is silently screaming, “Fuck off.” You make sure you don’t look away, pointedly challenging him to say anything remotely clever in response. The grin spreading across his face is the first sign that you’ve lost that challenge.

“Pretty nasty mouth for someone who’s in the library more often than her own room.”

You flare up, everything you’ve been holding in boiling over as you bite back at him, “You don’t know shit about me,” your voice is tight, and growing louder as you let the words spill out of your mouth, “I’m here all the fucking time because I can’t deal with the fact that I have to watch everyone around me have a life while I bury myself in school. I don’t have friends or shit else to do because I don’t have fucking time. I just want to get through this hell so I can finally just do what I want! So could you, please, get the fuck out of my face so I can go.”

“The door’s right there, you could’ve left a long time ago, but here we are,” he says, his smirk dripping with sarcasm.

I’m so fucking done with this shit. You move to get up, grabbing your bag off of the desk as you turn towards the door. Your hand is reaching for the doorknob when you hear his voice again.

“Did you not hear me?”

“Loud and fucking clear. I’m leaving aren’t I?”

“For someone who’s so fucking smart you really are a dumbass,” he says, standing as he takes a step towards you.

Why haven’t you left yet? Why haven’t you opened the door and - It hits you. You replay his words in your mind, picking up on something you were too pissed off to realize until this moment.

You turn around to face him, and you’re eye level with his shoulders, inches away from you. The warm amber scent of him enveloping you as your gaze travels up his neck to the angle of his jaw, finally making eye contact as you speak, “How would you know I’m here more often than my own room?”

“Tch. Like I said before, I work here,” he says, before moving closer, the heat of his breath brushing against your face as he continues, “but I’ll admit getting to see you makes my job less shitty.”

Your chest tightens, the fluttering in your core enough to make your pulse quicken as your lips part slightly.

He’s watching your face, smirking as your body tenses up when he closes the space between you. “But if you really want to leave...” he whispers against your skin, careful not to touch you as you look up at him with pleading eyes. He brings his lips a breadth away from yours, dropping his gaze to your mouth. “I’m going to fuck you on the desk.” he says, his hands still in his pockets as his words melt into you, “If you don’t want me to, tell me right fucking now.”

He’s so close to you, all you had to do was tilt your head up just a little more and your lips would touch. The thought invaded your mind, your breath catching in your throat as your body reacted to his words, tightening your core to the point of aching. You lift your eyes to meet the heat of gaze as you speak, “Do it, then-“

“Fucking finally,” he growls, his voice raspy and low as he makes contact, his lips moving against yours as the palms of his hands travel up to your face. They slide into your hair at the nape of your neck, collecting it in his fist, while the other hand grips your hips. He pulls you into him, moving you against the wall adjacent to the door. Your back meets the wall, the impact strong enough to make sound and your mind is blank. The feeling of his hands, his lips, his body pressed against yours, overwhelming your senses as you grasp onto the fabric of his sweater. His kiss is hungry and breathless, low groans vibrating against your lips as his pierced tongue slips between them, tasting the heat of your wet mouth.

You whimper into him, your body on fire from the inside out as the thin thread of self control you have left is priming to snap. His lips curl up into a smirk at the sounds lilting out of you and a growl ripples through him as he bites your bottom lip hard enough for you to open your eyes. He releases you, his breaths heavy as he presses his forehead against yours. His scarlet irises bore into you as he speaks, “We’re going to have to do something about all that fucking noise you’re making,” he smirks, his eyes traveling from your swollen lips to your legs, taking note of how tightly you’re clenching your thighs together. “You’re a mess already aren’t you?” His breathy laugh brushes against your face as he pulls away hooking his index fingers into the waistband of your leggings and tugging just enough for them to snap back once he releases.

A soft gasp escapes your lips at the impact against your sensitive skin, the heat pooling between your thighs as your insides clench. Your body is screaming, begging for him to touch you and your mouth moves on its own. “Please,” you whisper up at him, your hands finding the hem of his sweater as you spread your fingers against his skin, feeling every ridge of hardened muscle beneath it.

He drops his gaze down to your hands as your fingertips explore the surface of his skin. A low rumble vibrates through his chest, as his eyes sear into you, “Don’t forget, you fucking asked for this.” His hands move, pulling your sweatshirt over your head and dropping it onto the floor before he leans into you, pushing his leg between your thighs while he holds both your wrists in one hand above your head against the wall. His other hand grips your hip, his fingertips digging into your skin as his lips meets your neck.

You start to move against him, trying to get a taste of the friction your body is aching for while he teases your neck with open mouth kisses. His breath is hot against your skin, teeth sinking into you, as low groans escape his lips. He feels so fucking good and you haven’t been fucked in so long you might cum before he even gets to feel how wet you are. His lips move up to your ear, his voice low as his breath caresses your skin, “You’re riding my thigh like it’s something else, baby girl.” The hand gripping your hip slides under your shirt as he speaks, palming your breast while he kisses the space behind your ear. His teeth graze against your skin as a rippling growl erupts from him, pulling a whimper from your lips while your pussy grinds against his thigh.

You can feel the length of his hardening cock against your leg as you press yourself against him. He pinches your nipple, igniting every nerve in your body as he grins against your skin, feeling your body bend for him. A gasping moan escapes your lips, the sound filling the space around you as your head drops back against the wall. He pulls his head back just enough to watch your reaction; your eyes squeezed shut as your whines spill from your open mouth. “I can feel your pussy clenching for me, y/n,” he says, his lips trailing down your exposed neck as his hand moves to your other hardened nipple. The pressure he applies is sharp and delicious causing every muscle in your body to tighten, your panting breaths mingling with his hums of satisfaction as he feels you on the edge of unraveling at his touch.

“Fuck...ha...hahh...Katsuki...” You’re on your tiptoes relishing in the feeling of his teasing fingers as your insides coil imagining the feeling of him stretching you out. He grinds against you, his arousal pressing against your leg as your nails dig into the palms of your hands. “Mmm, You’re so fucking sexy, so desperate for this fucking cock aren’t you?”

Your lips are moving before you think, your mind consumed with the heat swelling inside you, “Yes...yes...please.” You lean forward in an attempt to meet his lips but he pulls away, releasing your hands as he moves to grip your hips. You let out a small yelp when he picks you up under your ass, and turns to put you on top of the desk. His hands slide down to the crook of your legs as he stands between them, eyeing you beneath his lashes when he speaks, “Pull them down.” You lean back, searching his face as you try to collect your thoughts. You must’ve taken longer than he wanted because he leans in, placing his hand on the wall behind you as his crimson eyes burn into yours, “You’re taking your sweet fucking time, and you’re already soaked down here?”

His fingers move to your warm center, feeling your arousal soaking through your leggings as he presses circles against your aching clit. Your legs involuntarily squeeze around his hips as his hand drops from the wall to grip a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to make you look at his face as his voice drops, “Spread...your fucking...legs.” Your pulse quickens, your blood heating up as he slows the pace of the pressure he’s circling around your clit and you whimper up at him, giving into the ripples of pleasure coursing through your body.

You want more, you lean back on your hands, hips moving to the rhythm his fingers play against your drenched core as your pleading eyes meet his gaze. You’re in a fucking library, in a room with a huge ass window. But the thought of someone seeing you makes your pulse speed up, sending a heightened thrum of pleasure streaming through you, “Hnnngh...ffuckk…” your hips move faster, cloying for more pressure, more friction, more feeling. Katsuki notices your body’s reaction, tightening his hold on your hair, causing your eyes to squeeze shut from the slight prickle of pain. “You wanna cum so fucking bad don’t you? That pussy of yours is begging for this fucking cock.” All you can do is pant in response, your eyes opening to see his face, smirking down at you as his fingers push harder, “Show me, show me how much you want it so I can see that dripping pussy.”

A breathy moan slips out of your throat as you sit up to push the fabric of your leggings down to your ankles. Katsuki releases his hold on your hair, watching your every movement as his gaze drops down to the essence glistening against your swollen lips. You hear his sharp intake of breath, the air hissing between his teeth as his eyes hungrily take you in before he meets your gaze again. His hooded eyes are a shadowed crimson, the heat rising up to your cheeks as you squirm beneath him.

One of his hands moves to grip the top of your thigh, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin as he slips two fingers from his other hand into his mouth. Your pussy tightens, watching him give his fingers a gentle suck as his gaze locks onto yours. The image is lethal, your breath catching at the sight of his wet fingers sliding past his lips and dropping to your aching pussy to tease your entrance. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet baby,” he hisses between his teeth, as he pinches your clit, the pressure enough to pull a gasping moan from your throat.

Your eyes flutter closed as you stifle a moan and lean your head back against the wall. His fingers maddeningly toy with you as you hear him unbuckle his belt. Sheer curiosity makes your eyelids hover open as you look down, taking in the size of him, his hand wrapping around his thick shaft and gliding over the prominent veins to his cherried swollen tip, dripping pre. You want to taste him so badly, your mouth begins to water and all you can think about is feeling his throbbing cock inside you. You don’t give a fuck if it barely fits. Your pussy clenches at the thought, wordlessly begging to be stuffed to the brim.

A low growl ripples through his chest, “I don’t even have to look at your face to know your pussy’s begging for this cock.” He thumbs the throbbing head of his dick, swirling the pre around his tip while his eyes bore into you. You couldn’t look away from his gaze if you wanted to, even as his fingers leave your aching core to pull you down with a rough tug at the crook of your legs, forcing your ass to the edge of the desk. He leans over your body, bringing his face inches away from yours, sliding a pre soaked thumb into your awaiting mouth flattening your tongue against his calloused finger. You wrap your lips around it, gently sucking and swirling your tongue, tasting his arousal for the first time.

A low moan rises from your throat, vibrating around him as you watch his eyes darken. He presses down against your tongue, forcing your mouth open as he growls, “Mmm you’re a naughty little slut aren't you...” His words send your insides fluttering, your hands balling into fists as your muscles tighten, your walls clamping around nothing but air as you pout. You don’t give a fuck anymore. Someone could stand directly in front of that massive fucking window and record the whole fucking thing. It doesn’t matter. You want him, right fucking now. You roll your hips, grinding your wet pussy against his hard cock. His dick twitches in response grinding through your slit and hitting your clit sending a simpering moan spilling from your open mouth.

You feel him press harder against your tongue and his voice drops, “Such a fucking tease,” he slides his length through your swollen lips, his heat seeping into you as he whispers, “You want this fucking cock? Let’s see how quiet you can be and maybe, I’ll let you cum.” He releases your tongue, slipping his hand under your shirt to swirl his slick fingers around your nipple. You bite your lip, attempting to silence the whimpers rising from your throat as your back arches at his touch, your hands craving to touch him. You reach up, sliding your hands under the fabric of his sweater as you drag your nails down his back. A guttural growl emanates from his chest as he ruts against you, every ridge of his thick cock sliding into your clit.

You can feel yourself melting beneath his hands, his fingers tugging at your nipples as his body moves down leaving soft bites and licks in his wake. The heat of his breath and the cool kiss of the metal stud in his tongue meets your dripping center and it’s enough to send goosebumps flooding across your skin. In one swift motion he’s on his knees between your legs, the back of your thighs resting on his shoulders and his hands gripping you to pull your plush wet lips closer to his smirking mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m not going to be able to- “Shhhh,” you watch his lips as he smiles, looking directly at you. You swallow the moan threatening to escape your lips but your shallow breaths are giving you away, he fucking knows I won’t be able to take this...

Then, he’s inhaling you, his tongue slipping into your clenching pussy, licking from your entrance to your clit while he looks directly into your eyes as he pulls away, “Fuck. You taste so fucking good.” His voice is heated and low, the evidence of your arousal glistening on his lips as he speaks. The image sends your insides fluttering, your muscles tensing down to your toes as your legs attempt to constrict around him. You’re squirming already but he’s got you pinned, wide open and spread out, at the mercy of his vicious fucking mouth.

He doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath before he’s latching onto you, his hot wet tongue delving into your silky walls as his piercing vibrates against you with even the slightest groan. You gasp for air, eyes squeezed shut, fingers intertwined in his hair you grind into him, completely blissed out and swimming in the waves of pleasure ebbing through you with every flick and suck. You’re a fucking mess, trying to maintain some modicum of control as he mercilessly swirls his tongue around your pulsing clit. His teeth nestle around it, gently rolling your bundle of nerves between them as he flicks his piercing against you, pulling a low groan from the depths of your core.

He growls, licking your pussy from your clenching entrance to your base of your clit before he looks up at you, “How am I gonna fuck you if you can’t keep quiet with just my fucking tongue, hmm?” The loss of pressure makes you whine, you’re so fucking close. He smirks at you, one of his hands releases your thigh, dropping down to push two of his thick fingers into your warm weeping center. His eyes follow his movements, watching as you take him in, curling his fingers to brush against your most sensitive spot as he slides in and out of you. It’s too much, but you choke down the sobbing whimper cloying in your throat. Your legs shake, breasts heaving as your panting breaths quicken with every thrust of his fingers. You’re biting your lip so hard to keep quiet you might draw blood, but you lean back, putting your weight on your hands to lift your hips and roll into him, letting his long fingers push deeper inside you.

You clamp down around him, your body begging for more; more feeling, more friction, more pressure, you want every little piece of it. You’re at the edge of your control, your mouth falling open in a silent moan as your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back. You can feel him watching you, humming his approval as his other hand releases your leg, “Mmmm, such a good fucking girl with this greedy fucking pussy. You wanna cum for me don’t you...?”

“Yes-yess, pleeease...haah-fuck, FUCK.”

He breathes a soft laugh over your sopping pussy before he devours your soft lips hungrily, lapping up your slit as the rhythm of his fingers speed up.

“Hnnngh...hah-haah, please-fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He’s drowning you, your senses overflowing with the feeling of heat through your body, pushing you to the brink of release. Your pussy clenches around him, his tongue sending sparks through every nerve, punishing you with his thrumming piercing as he moves to sit up on his knees, pushing further into you. He knows you’re close; his hand slides up your body, his nails dragging across your skin until he reaches your lips, sliding two of his fingers into your panting mouth.

He moans into you, making his piercing vibrate faster. Your mouth waters as you wrap your tongue around his fingers, nibbling and sucking on them. You’re a mess, unable to conjure anything except slurred muffled groans around his thick fingers. His lips pull away just enough for you to feel him growl at you.

“Cum for me, right fucking now.”

Fuck...fuckfuckfuck! Your body reacts to his words, wrapping both hands around his arm, digging your nails into his skin as your climax crashes into you. You’re struggling for air but you don’t need it, the blinding light behind your eyelids rippling with the waves of pleasure imploding from your core. He doesn’t stop, his fingers milking your insides, extending your orgasm for everything you’ve got until he slips them out of you, only to delve into your tightening entrance with his tongue, lapping up every drop of your cum.

“So fucking sweet,” he breathes, slipping his fingers out of your mouth, using both of his hands to push the back of your thighs up, inhaling everything you have left as the last tremors spiral out of your body. Eyes closed, floating in the afterglow of your release, you feel him pull your legs back down as he stands in one swift motion. He grips the top of your thighs, roughly tugging you down until your throbbing core kisses the ridges of his dick. Your eyes snap open. Fuck, he’s fucking huge.

Your expression must’ve voiced your thoughts because he expels are a breathy laugh, “You feel that don’t you, how fucking hard I am from tasting your perfect fucking pussy.” His cock twitches against you and your hips roll into him as you moan, gripping the edge of the desk with both hands as you look up at him. Your legs wrap around his waist, tightening from the flush of heat emanating from your core. You want him inside you, to feel the mind numbing combination of pleasure and pain as he stretches you out.

Your voice is a whimper, “Katsuki….please.” You continue to grind against him, your arousal and his dripping pre making you slick and hot. A guttural growl rips through his chest as he leans over you, the palm of his hand slamming on the wall as he brings his lips to your ear. Your body stills, your breaths coming in shallow pants as his muscle toned body presses against you, “Please, what? Tell me what you want, y/n.”

His tongue flicks at your neck, making your words come out in gasps, “Fuck...fuck me...please, please…” Your hands glide beneath the fabric of his sweater, splaying out to pull him closer into you while your nails dig into him. Your back bows off the surface of the desk, tightening your legs around him trying to gain more friction to appease your swollen clit.

“Be a good girl,” he breathes into your ear, “ and control that pretty mouth of yours or I’ll have to do it for you.”

You bite your lip, your need for him coiling inside you as you feel him push himself up far enough for you to feel him hovering over you. Your eyes meet and his hand moves to position himself into you. The head of his cock presses against your soaking entrance, slowly slipping into you as you fight the low moan rising from your throat. He hisses between his teeth as he watches you, “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” Both of his hands press into the desk, his arms caging you in, as he looks between your bodies, watching himself ease into you inch by inch. He’s already stretching you out, your velvet walls clenching around him as his wet cock slides inside of your clenching pussy. The muscles in his arms tighten, his body tensing as he begins to move his hips, pushing further into you.

“You’re clamping down on me and I’m not even all the way in yet,” he smirks at you, watching your face flush as your pulse quickens. Fuck...he’s going to fucking break me. But you’re too far gone, you want him, and your body speaks for you, lifting your hips as your nails claw into his back. A growl rips through his chest as his head dips, bringing his forehead to yours, “You want it? Okay then…”

Before you’re able to take another breath, he snaps his hips, pulling a yelp from your mouth when he bottoms out inside you. “Fffuck, you feel so fucking good.” You’re whining, struggling to accommodate his size but relishing in the mind numbing feeling of fullness your pussy was already becoming addicted to. “Not so cocky once that pretty little cunt is fucking full, huh?”

The only response you can offer is a whimper as he starts to move. He rotates his hips, grinding deeper into you, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. You turn your head, your eyes squeezing shut as you try to stifle the sounds rising from your throat. Your open mouth meets his arm and your teeth sink into him as he pulls out just enough to slam back into you hitting your limit. It takes everything in you not to cry out, but the pain is dulled by the overwhelming feeling of pleasure each deep powerful thrust rains down on you.

“Haah-hah, fuck baby, you’re taking me so well.” His movements find a rhythm, rolling his hips again and again filling you to the brim with every snap. The curve of his cock pushes his tip against your most sensitive spot, stirring your insides, making your body temperature rise with every panting breath. The feeling is intoxicating, drunk on the way your bodies move together, every nerve firing, desperate to drink him in more. You roll your hips, taking the full impact of every merciless thrust, your breath hitching as you choke back a sob. Your nails drag across the span of his back as you hear him hiss through his teeth. His muscles tense, back arching as a growl vibrates through his body. “Ah- FUCK. Ooooh, you want it don’t you. Yeah? You want it?”

“Katsuki, please, I want- I want more.” You’re a sputtering mess, your walls fluttering around his hard cock as he pushes off the desk, gripping your thighs in both of his massive hands. He pulls you further down bringing your ass off the edge of the desk. Your body is completely at his mercy as he pushes deeper into you, his fingertips digging into your skin as his pace speeds up. You don’t have time to adjust to his movements, he drives into you, snapping his hips, impaling you over and over.

“Ahh-ah-fffucckk,” you moan, failing miserably at staying quiet, it’s fucking impossible. It feels too good, you’re too full, overflowing with the sensations pulsing through your body. You grab onto the edge of the desk, fingers gripping the wood as his heavy sack smacks against your ass. “Mmmm,” he growls, What? Can't fucking take it? Fuck- cant control that slutty fucking mouth can you? Pussy drooling all over my fucking cock.” He lifts your shirt with one hand pulling it up to your open mouth and you immediately bite down, the fabric doing everything it can to muffle your stuttering moans.

“That’s right. Such a good fucking girl,” his fingers trail down your body, groping your breasts, pinching your nipples as every ridge of his cock fills all the space you have inside you. “Fuck- your so fucking sexy baby- you wanna cum don’t you...keep biting down on that fucking shirt.” You’re so close, so fucking close, the coil in your core threatening to snap. He feels you clamp down on him, moving one hand to press down on your stomach and the other to your throbbing clit.

The pressure pushes your spot against his dick, his punishing thrusts slamming into it every time as he rubs maddening circles around your clit. “Hnnnnf-hnnnngh!” Your shirt muffles your sobs as you squeeze your eyes closed, the tears prickling at the corners as your back arches, your head thrown back as far as it can go. “Fuck yes- cum on this cock baby...cum for me.”

His words are your undoing, any ounce of control you have left exploding into the myriad of colors flashing behind your eyes. The thin thread at the base of your spine snaps, catapulting you into the stratosphere, overheating and gasping for air. The feeling saturates you, expelling any and every thought your mind could attempt to conjure. You squeeze your legs around him, every muscle in your body tightening as your pussy clamps down on his throbbing dick.

“Fuck- FUCK-mmmm, get ready to swallow every drop of this fucking cum baby.” His voice washes over you, the waves of your orgasm still rippling through your body as you feel him slide out of you. He hooks a finger in the neckline of your shirt, pulling you to sit up as he steps back between your legs. Your eyes land on his straining cock, slick from your arousal and the dripping pre his hand is fisting up and down his shaft. “Open...your fucking…mouth.”

You want to taste him, your mouth waters watching his cock twitch in his hands. Your body is so fucking spent, your legs would give out if you tried getting on your knees. You push your ass back, hinging at the hips and leaning forward, looking up at him through your lashes as you hold your tongue out of your open mouth for him. “Ughggh, fuck,” he groans, watching you as the heat from your breath caresses his dick.

His hand moves faster, his breath catching as his muscles tense. “Fuck-FUCK- you’re so fucking sexy baby, you’re gonna take all this fucking cum aren’t you...yeah? Show me...wrap those lips around my dick baby.” Your insides flutter as you swirl your tongue around the swollen pink head of his cock, tasting the mixture of his pre and your arousal. You inhale the intoxicating scent of him before hollowing your cheeks and taking in as much of him as you can. “Hah-haah, just like that baby-FUCK.” He moves his hand from the base of his dick to the back of your head, your eyes widening as he starts to thrust into your mouth.

His other hand rests under your throat, holding you still while he face fucks you. A low moan rises in your throat, vibrating around his cock as his uneven breaths melt into groans and hisses. “So fucking perfect,” he’s panting, his voice raspy and rumbling, “Taste your slutty fucking pussy on my cock baby?- haah-hah- all this cum I’m gonna shoot down your throat’s cus’ve you.” He’s thrusting harder, his pace speeding up as he stretches you out, hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, your saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as tears begin to fall, “Choke on that cock baby, that’s right- take - all of it- fuck, Fuck-FUCK!”

The hand on the back of your head fists your hair as he throws his head back, all of his muscles tensing up as he bucks into your mouth spraying hot thick ropes of cum down your throat. You swallow every drop of him, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths as he slides his dick out of your mouth and pulls your hair, making you sit up. His lips crash into yours, his tongue lapping into your mouth, tasting the remains of your combined arousal. He releases the grip on your hair, bringing his hand down to your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he pulls you in further, sighing into you before he pulls away.

You look up, your gaze meeting the smirk on his face before noticing the smug fucking look in his eyes. You roll your eyes, curling your lips into a grin, “What’s that look for?”

“You had a hard time staying quiet in public,” he says, smiling mischievously at you. “I’m wondering what you’d sound like if I fucked you somewhere else.”

Your eyes narrow. How is he still such a sexy fucking asshole. “I wouldn’t mind testing that theory,” you say, smirking as you lean in, looking up at him, legs dangling off the desk.

"Tch," Katsuki eyes you, his scarlet eyes scanning your body as he steps out from between your legs, pulling his pants up and buckling his belt. He looks over at you, "Then, I don’t know what you’re still sitting there for. I’ve gotta clean up the mess you made.”

You grin at him, the irony of him fucking you until your neighbors can hear you screaming almost makes you laugh, pushing the thought of your class project completely out of your mind.

Tags: @sweet-darling91 @aztecbrujeria @tarot-milktea I love you guys 💜 If anyone else wants to be tagged lmk :)

#bakugou katsuki #bnha smut #university au #college au #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugo x female reader #bnha fanfic art #mha fanfiction #mha smut #aged up characters

288 notes · View notes

luvyanfei · 3 years

Note

EVEEEEE CONGRATS ON THE NEW BLOG I HOPE YOULL HAVE LOTS OF FUN WRITING 💜💜💜💜 Let’s see though,,, for my request,,, May I request hcs of Vil x a reader who’s a graphic designer and she edits his magicam posts and whatnot 👀💖

ue ue,,, forgive me if i mischaracterize vil. i also got a bit carried away and this ended up kind of lengthy. thank you vivian! <3

VIL SCHOENHEIT.

when vil finds out about your apparent talent, he’s impressed, to say the least. he knows how diligent you are with your studies, he’s seen with his own eyes the way you organize your notes proficiently and listen thoughtfully during lectures. the effort you pour into your academics is an admiring trait. he’s just, never thought you’re skilled in the creative side of the spectrum as well.

as usual, he’s having difficulties trying to outshine his competitor, neige leblanche. with rook’s advice, he sought out to spice up his contents and produce something that will successfully attract the public’s eye. newer is better, as the saying goes. he exits out to the school’s library after class has finished for the tiresome day to reflect and craft up a plan. he doesn’t expect to see you sitting down on one of the desks, typing things down on your computer once he gets there. ah. you must be starting the new assignment crewel has assigned, he guesses. well, that’s what he thinks, until he walks past you to secretly glance at the screen you’re focusing all your attention on which are, e-edits? how... intriguing. vil can’t help but be silently amused as he watches you skillfully colour in images and create appealing layouts. gears suddenly turn in his head and he ponders deep in thought, inspiration hitting him hard.

“vil, what are you looking at?” shoot. he’s so absorbed in your work that he fails to realize you’ve spotted him staring.

“potato, you’re quite good at editing.” he crosses his arms nonchalantly, nodding his head to gesture to your laptop. you sheepishly look down at the ground and a faint blush dusts your cheeks.

waving your hands in front of you, you rebuke his compliment. “no no. i’m not, really. you’re the one who’s talented between the two of us.”

ah, so you’re the insecure type. he clear his throat to change the topic, much to your relief. “anyways, i’ve been having a bit of a dilemma concerning my posts, lately.” he carefully explains the situation at hand and you nod along. “well, care to lend me a hand. i’m positive you have the skill to make promising results.”

you’re astounded, for a brief moment. vil schoenheit, one of the most popular social media icons in the school and your secret crush, is asking you for help? still in shock, you accept his proposal nonetheless, a wave of excitement washing over the prickling doubt in your head. and that’s how you became his personal graphic designer and your relationship with him takes a more positive turn towards the romantic light.

as you work and combine your talents together, vil admittingly forms a budding affection for you which blossoms into a full-on crush. how can he not? your effervescent smile that emanates warmth as you’re editing the latest posts he’s going to publish for the day gives him a rush of tingling happiness and he reciprocates your smile with a tiny beam of his own, highlighting his beauty.

he tries to pay you back with cash or gifts, but you quickly shake your head and reassure him that he’s worth the time. plus, you’re quite fond of editing so it’s killing two birds with one stone. he makes sure to at least credit you since it would be inconsiderate of him to take all the glory for himself.

after days of preparation and hard work, vil posts the finished products for all to see while you watch him in anticipation. immediately, your budding anxiety is quenched down by the multiple notification noises of his phone and, to both of your amazement, his posts have received generous number of hearts and comments filled with genuine praise in under a minute. what’s most surprising is the fact that he has now gained almost more than the massive followers that neige has. almost. vil should be feeling bitter and scornful for not being more popular than the rsa student is, but he’s... content. after all, he has something - or rather, someone, that neige will never have - and that’s you.

he strives for perfection, and he hopes you - his cherished lover and adoring graphic designer - excel too. it’s always better to journey hand in hand to the top instead of venturing alone, right?

you’re busy typing away on your laptop, concentrating hard on perfecting the edits for vil. the sky outside is dark and the moonlight beams through the many windows in the room. your eyes feel heavy and it’s tempting to close them to give way to slumber, yet you force yourself to battle against your drowsiness. the knocking of the door alerts you to turn around to the source of the intruder as vil himself swiftly enters pomefiore’s common area with a mug of hot cocoa in one hand.

“ara ara, potato, what are you doing up so late?” he places the cup down beside you and grips your shoulders firmly, yet gently, pressing your back against his chest as he straightens your posture. you automatically blush at the close proximity and offers him a little smile.

“i was trying to finish the work for today,” you gesture to your open laptop, ushering him to view your unfinished edit. he studies it closely. beauté as always, he muses to himself, just like you.

you take a sip and breathes out a sigh of satisfaction, letting the decadent taste of the drink trickle down your throat. he cups your chin and his lilac pupils bore into yours. unhesitating, he captures your lips in his perfectly, interlocking his tongue with yours for good measure. your eyes widen for a split second, but you close them reflexively and slings your arms around his neck to further deepen the intimate moment.

you stay together like this for a few full minutes, until he pulls away reluctantly. “[name],” his fingers comb through your hair, as if to lull you asleep, “don’t overwork yourself. you may have your flaws, but that’s what i find so endearing about you. rest now, my love.”

and with that, he seals your day with a fluttering kiss to your forehead before you finally drift into unconsciousness.

#twst x reader #vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland

80 notes · View notes

wolvesandpetals · 3 years

Text

Loki x Sylvie Playing House Part 3 (Humor, Romance), Rated T. Full on Sylki hijinks, as promised!

Masterlist of my Sylki fanfics here.

---

The first thing she does when Thor leaves is Google herself. Apparently, she was a child actor and made a fortune there, before transitioning into modelling, and later into a successful influencing career.

"That makes perfect sense to me", Loki comments. "If I was not a prince, I would have chosen to be an actor too. Just imagine, legions of fans screaming your name, begging for your attention for just one moment, hanging onto your every word, willing to worship the very ground you walk on. Now, that is the dream." He pauses, cherishing the image in his head. "There's also the money. Looks like you and I will never have to work a day in our lives. We can just live off your money."

[[MORE]]

Sylvie feels the muscles in her laws instinctively tense. This is not her life, or her reality. She can't imagine spending eternity here. She looks at Loki sternly. "We can not. We have to return to the TVA."

"Yes, of course." He agrees immediately. A part of him likes this life. But another part of him knows there is never a gain without a loss. The universe finds a way to make him pay for every bit of happiness he ever gets. Who knows what the price may be if he chooses to stay, with his family, and with Sylvie right here?

Sylvie sets down the laptop on the bedside table, ignoring the danger of Loki's glass being knocked over and drenching it. She cannot let herself be concerned with such simple things. Ignoring them is the surest way to covince herself she hates it here. "I was wondering, if Thor can get into this town, and if he remembers us leaving this town in the past, does it mean we are free to leave?"

Loki studies her features, the resolute glint in her eyes and the defiant stance of her chin. It is clear that she will stop at nothing to get back to the TVA. "We should test it out." He says, trying to sound as calm as possible. "Where do you wanna go?"

"Maybe we can go to Oklahoma? See my supposed parents?" She attempts to play it off like it's nothing, even though she knows exactly what it means- temptation. The urge to see what this life looks like is ever-growing.

"Why can't we go to Asgard and see my parents instead?" He counters immediately.

Sylvie purses her lips, trying not to reveal her emotions. She doesn't remember her Odin or Frigga at all. A part of her longs to meet this version of them, but another part wonders how overwhelming it would feel, watching Loki occupy her place, have her life, her "parents" in this timeline. "Fine. How about we pick a neutral location first?"

"Fine." He replies curtly.

"Fine!" Her irritation escalates. She grabs the laptop again, opening up a tab to a travel website, ready to book a flight.

"LA?" He suggests.

"You just want the paparazzi attention, don't you?" She points out, but doesn't resist. "Alright."

September 1st. The date is set. They will be off to LA within three days, and if whatever being that has placed them here does not want them to leave, they will know by then.

---

"Do you really need all of these sunglasses?" Sylvie asks, after Loki stashes the fifth one in his backpack.

"Of course, I do." He defends. "Style? Remember?"

"Travelling light, remember?" She hits back, taking out two random pairs and throwing them back on her dresser. "Just take what you absolutely need."

"I absolutely need my sunglasses." He says stubbornly.

She can either give in on this trivial matter, or she can dig her heels in and fight it out with him. A stupid pair of sunglasses is not worth the effort. "Fine." And in return, there's something that he has to compromise for her as well. "Only if you help me get my swords past security."

"With pleasure." He says with a grin, and with a wave of his hand, the newly arrived swords from eBay are magically cloaked.

Sylvie looks at her own luggage. She has never really owned anything. She jumped from one apocalypse to another, with only her life, and sometimes food supplies for a few days. It feels surreal to look at the clothes in her wardrobe now. The thought of carrying them with her feels even more foreign.

She looks at the tons of products on her dresser, skin creams, lotions, toners, cleansers and heaven knows what else. All the luxuries she never had.

All the luxuries she does not want.

"I'll just pack a change of clothes." She says finally.

"You don't want anything else?" He asks, surprised.

"These are just things, Loki." She explains. "They can be replaced. I have no attachment to them."

---

She regrets not booking first class. She has been on planes before, using crashing aircrafts as a temporary hideout spot to regroup when the TVA was on her tails. As a stowaway, she never realized just how annoying a plane journey can actually be.

Loki graciously offers her the window seat, noting her unease as soon as they board. She thanks him with a smile, and they nod in mutual understanding.

She stares out of the window, at the town that is supposedly her home, and for the first time ever, she feels a pang of homesickness for a place that is not Asgard. She has been here for just five days now, yet, the thought of sleeping in her own bed is so tempting.

Sylvie notices how she is thinking of the bed as her bed now, but tries not to dwell on it too much.

The plane takes off without incidence, and she dozes off quickly. When she wakes up, she notices a thin comforter wrapped around her shoulders. Turning to her side, she sees Loki sleeping as well, his mouth slightly agape. She snuggles close to him, suddenly needing the comfort of his warmth, and the woman on the aisle seat gives her a dirty look. There's a baby crying somewhere in the back, and what feels like the beginning of a massive headache. But all that fades away when she lays her head on his shoulder.

---

When the flight arrives at LAX, they are both a little scared to leave its comfort. They are about to find out if they are free to travel wherever they want, or whether the action had any consequence. Sylvie is the first to take a step out, and they are both relieved to see nothing happens. The baggage claim goes smoothly, though slowly, and they get a cab quickly. Sylvie hides her grin when she sees Loki put on his sunglasses.

"So we're here." He says, staring at Sylvie, while she stares out of the window.

She only hums in response.

"Is this your honeymoon?" The driver asks.

Loki laughs nervously. "No, no. We've been married for quite a long time. This is just... a vacation."

The driver recommends them a lot of tourist places. Sylvie tunes him out. This is just a test. She has no interest in touring LA. They have their return flight scheduled for the next day.

They check into their hotel room, and she plops down on the bed immediately. "It seems we are free to leave the town. Just not the reality, I suppose." She runs her hands over the silky sheets, amused. "I must say, whoever placed us here has taken every measure to make this prison comfortable."

Loki follows suit and takes a seat beside her. "I suppose that is indeed generous of him. Or her."

Sylvie turns to the side to look at him. "So how do we get out of here then? Got any plan?"

He shrugs. It's not like there's a book called What to do when you find yourself trapped in an alternate universe with your alternate self for Dummies. "Right now, the plan is to get some dinner, then some sleep. Then perhaps in the morning we can see a bit of LA?"

"You want to play tourist?" She asks in a neutral tone.

He replies in kind, testing the waters. "We are here already, and we have the time, so why not?"

"Okay." She replies, a little unsure, but not entirely opposed to the idea. The weariness of the journey starts taking its toll on her. She messages her temples with her fingertips. "Should we order room service?"

Loki contemplates for a moment. On the one hand, she looks really tired, and she could use a good night's sleep. On the other hand, she has been completely on edge and razor focused on the mission since they got in this mess. Well, since they met, actually, and probably for centuries before that. She could also use a bit of fun and relaxation.

With that in mind, he carefully voices his proposal. "I was thinking maybe we can go down to the restaurant and have a proper dinner."

Sylvie looks up, grinning mischievously. She's about to call his bluff. "What, like a date?" His deer-in-the-headlights reaction makes her laugh. "Calm down, I'm just teasing you."

---

It's not a date, but it kind of is. It's a four course meal and a fine bottle of champagne over candlelight, after all.

"Was it like this? Back at Asgard?" Sylvie wonders.

"Mostly. But Asgard was grand, elegant. This is..."

"A cheap replacement." She completes.

Loki smiles. "Precisely."

They talk about their Asgard bedrooms, the similarities and the differences between their safe haven in the palace. An hour passes swiftly.

"The wine is good." Sylvie comments, sipping on her first glass of wine, when the champagne is drained.

"Yes, quite good." Loki agrees, on his first glass as well.

The tiniest buzz starts to take root in him, and his mind wanders into the realm of possibilities, the future he can have, here and now. His eyes focus on the brighest object in front of him- Sylvie.

She feels her cheeks flush under his gaze. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You are just so..." He blinks. What is another word for Asgard's Sun when it disappears into the azure lakes? "Breathtaking"

Her lips curve into a shy smile. This is the beginning of the same foolishness he showed on the train in Lamentis-1 that almost got them killed. But right now, their life isn't in imminent danger. Right now, she is just amused. "Wow, you really can't hold your liquor, can you?"

"Of course I can. I am Loki, Prince of Asgard." He declares proudly.

"Yes, yes, I've heard the speech." She says it with a smile and an eye-roll. "We should get you upstairs."

He objects immediately. "But I'm not done yet."

"Oh, I think you're quite done." She beckons the nearest waiter. "Can we get the bill, please?"

He can still walk surprisingly well, but she holds his hand tightly, just in case he decides to take a detour, and drags him into the elevator.

"Blonde looks good on you." He comments out of the blue. "Maybe I should go blonde too."

She grins. "Like Thor?"

He glares at her. "You're a buzzkill."

---

Sylvie opens the door after fumbling with the keys for a minute. She is starting to feel the effect of the alcohol as well. She takes off her shoes and her earrings, while Loki runs to the loo.

"Why did you book a room for two?" He asks in a serious tone, leaning against the door-frame of the bathroom.

Sylvie freezes, her hand hanging mid-air for five uncomfortable seconds before she awkwardly drops it to her side.

Why did she book a room for two? She could have just rented separate rooms, or at least ones with separate beds. It's not like she and Loki are actually together.

But they have been. At least for the past few days. Why do they need separate rooms here when they share a bed back home?

Home. Sylvie realises with alarm that she's thinking of her prison as her home.

Is this reality starting to mess with her mind now?

"It's okay, I don't want to leave you either." Loki's voice pulls her out of her inner monologue. She turns around quickly in his direction. He's still drunk, and it shows, but he has a look on his face that she has never seen before- a mix of resolution and fondless. His eyes whisper silent vows of loyalty, and something else, something he can't quite express yet. "I will never leave you."

Sylvie smiles, closing the distance between them and standing next to him. Her hand finds his by sheer instinct. "Good to know."

"I mean it, Sylvie." He gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, before he tugs her along with him as he sits down on the bed, unable to stand any longer in his inebriated state. She is grateful to be seated too, and she's unsure whether it is just the alcohol. "I know you hate it here. But I like this." He indicates at her, then at himself, then back at her. "I like falling asleep next to you, and walking into the kitchen first thing every morning to see you cursing at the microwave. I like how you hum in the shower and scream at the TV."

Sylvie listens quietly, her eyes focused on the feeling of his hand in hers. She is trying to memorize this moment, burn the shape of his fingers and the feel of his touch into her brain, so that when it's gone- when he is gone- like everything in her life always is, she will have another good memory to relive again and again.

Loki continues. "I like the way you burn the pasta every time you try to cook."

"I don't burn the whole dish." She retorts playfully. "Just the bottom part."

He shakes his head to show he disagrees. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Her heartbeat quickens. Is he going to confess that he has feelings for her?

Does he have feelings for her?

"Sure." She barely whispers back.

Loki double-checks. "Promise me that you will never tell yourself?"

She laughs softly. "I promise."

Loki tenses, suddenly looking sober. He lets go of her hand, to rest his by his side, his fingers clenched into a fist. Mastering all his courage, he finally speaks. "I don't want to leave. Ever. I like it here."

Sylvie looks away, suddenly needing air. Hearing Loki say that makes her feel irrationally angry. He promised to be on her side every step of the way, but the minute he finds a life he likes, he's ready to throw in the towel.

A part of the anger stems from the fact that she knows, a major reason he wants to stay is her, this life he has with her. Two Lokis on any other timeline will cause Nexus events. But here, they are free to be together. Timelines don't start branching off like a growing vine on timelapse video every time they touch. And he wants that. She knows this because he has all but said it with his words and his actions.

And because she wants it too. Damn it, she wants it so much. She is getting sucked into this reality, indeed.

But she knows she has to finish what she started- she owes it to herself, and to the people out there who need her help, who will be robbed of their lives if she doesn't stop whoever is doing this.

She wants to-

- But she can't.

"Loki, I-" she stops when she turns around to see he has already fallen asleep. Wordlessly, she wraps the comforter over his sleeping form, before crawling under it herself. Turning to her side, facing away from him, she wonders what's next for them.

#loki disney+#loki x sylvie #sylvie x loki #pro sylki #sylki #sylki fanfic #fanfiction

20 notes · View notes

i-watch-too-many-movies · 3 years

Text

5 Favorite First Viewings of July 2021

Quick note: Hi everyone, I'm back, things have honestly been getting better for me, and I'm glad to be on this site full of cinephiles, people that are too horny, and cinephiles that are too horny. I'll be more active on here. But anyway, let's talk about some movies.

Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970) (dir. Russ Meyer)

CW: Abortion mention

What a picture. What a gorgeous, sexy, horrifying slice of what Hollywood and star life can do to a bunch of bright-eyed young people looking for success. Also is a critique of how macho nature can ruin friendships and romantic relationships with total ease. I was obsessed with the scene transitions, like Pet pouring pancake mix onto a plate after the abortion scene, or Kelly singing after someone screams before their murder in the opening scene.

Great, campy flick with exceptional music too.

Deep Cover (1992) (dir. Bill Duke)

Laurence Fishburne plays Russell Stevens, a Cincinnati police officer who hopes to do well by the community, to make a difference. He’s traumatized by the death of his substance-abusing father, and wants to make sure that he can help the people of his own town. He goes undercover on assignment as a drug dealer, where his boss orders him to take down the kingpin. Stevens realizes the police’s own failings while on assignment. The racist abuse he takes from Agent Carver, and the realization that the police department is protecting drug kingpins like Gallegos and Barbossa. Giving drugs to Black kids and Latinx kids so there will be less of them. The cops are no different than the drug kingpins looking to make filthy amounts of money.

Fishburne’s performance is excellent, as Stevens feels he has to maintain a stone face so he doesn’t get caught by Jason or Barbossa or any of his cronies, but also he maintains a stone face to try and hide his emotion, his trauma. But when he gets pissed, Fishburne acts it beautifully, as is when he has to deliver a funny quip to counter Jason’s douchebaggery. And the production design, holy fuck, the sets and the lighting.

A perfect neo-noir for the HW Bush years, arguably one of the most timeless commentaries on the era, as well as the police as a whole.

Fast Five (2011) (dir. Justin Lin)

I was torn between including this or Furious 7, but I ultimately went with Fast Five because it felt like an important turning point in the series, it's a great heist film, and it reached the same chaotic highs and genuinely excellent filmmaking that I had been waiting for since 2 Fast and Tokyo Drift.

Fast Five opens where Fast & 4ious left off. Dom is hauled away to prison on a bus. Mia and Brian drive in their high-tech cars and knock the bus over, helping Dom escape. The title drops. Fast Five. It’s such an intense yet short action scene, and dropping the title immediately after it lets the viewer know that this movie is not fucking around. It’s arguably gonna be more intense and insane than the previous one.

And it is. The filmmakers made the decision to use a lot more practical stunt work for the film, and as a result, it leads to, so far, the best action in the entire series, since 2 Fast and Tokyo Drift. It’s not just how it’s shot or edited, it’s the geography of the locations, the rooftop chase echoes the rooftop chase of Jackie Chan’s masterwork Police Story, particularly the way each character bounces from top to top.

And of course, there’s the silliest moment in the movie, the one that matches the intensity and kineticism of a film like 2 Fast, which is driving the Reyes’ bank vault throughout the street, getting chased by corrupt cops.

I know we make fun of Vin Diesel for saying “family” all the time in these films, but there’s a reason we remember him saying all of these impassioned monologues. Because he’s unbelievably sincere, and has so much love in his heart for every single person in the room. Anytime he delivers a speech to any of them, it’s genuinely heartwarming.

This is the film that finally shows La Familia in their best environment, which is working together, in a movie genre that allows them to work together, which is a heist film. And a great one at that.

Last Days (2005) (dir. Gus Van Sant)

CW: Mention of suicide

Several films have been made about legendary rock artist Kurt Cobain, and for good reason. He is one of the most tragic figures in rock and roll. A tortured genius who has written and performed classic song after classic song with his band Nirvana. He was called the voice of a generation, and helped change the face of mainstream alternative rock music as we know it. But with that fame, and all of those expectations came a worsening depression and further drug abuse, and his eventual death. But most of the films about Kurt Cobain ask one question which gets under my skin way too much:

“Who REEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLY killed Kurt Cobain?”

It was him. He did. And it’s okay, I’m sad too. Thinking that Kurt Cobain was murdered is completely ignoring the depression that he faced. And despite Last Days being more inspired by the death of Cobain rather than actually about it, it feels much more honest than the conspiracy documentaries on his death, wanting to leech off of his dead body.

This is the last installment of Gus Van Sant’s “Death Trilogy”, the previous two installments being Gerry (2001), and Elephant (2003). While I have not seen Gerry, I have seen Elephant though, and love that film for its minimalist, raw nature, and its boldness for not romanticizing the school shooter or the lives they had taken. Last Days falls into that trap once, as I don’t agree with the shot of Blake’s soul climbing up a ladder, that always struck me as cheesy in a film that is anything but.

Last Days is similar to Elephant in terms of the way it is filmed. Its usage of long takes, and still shots of characters doing various things, such as Blake playing his guitar behind a drum set. The way these moments are shot is similar to a Chantal Akerman film, particularly Jeanne Dielman. Where the acts of the mundane are the stars of the film. Blake wanders around an empty house, and the viewer can feel the pain, not just through Michael Pitt’s acting, but from the house itself. Its decay, its paint peeling from the walls, from the soft glow of the lamp that lights his face.

I say this is the most honest film about Kurt Cobain, because, despite the characters technically being fictional (the main character who looks, walks, and acts like Cobain is named Blake), this film focuses on the mental state of a person before they eventually take their own life. They’re still working, still making music, still trying to talk to friends and bandmates, but the depression lingers on. Not once does this film try to make you believe that someone else killed him, because you can see the signs of his own suicide taking place just through the film’s excellent cinematography by Harris Savides, showing his mental state only growing worse through the production design.

And it’s empathetic with him. There’s no judgement for leaving rehab, there’s no finger-wagging at him or the people he was with, there’s just a silent prayer at the end of the film, hoping that he is in a better place than he was.

Sometimes you don’t need to show every event that led you to where you are, all you can show is the moment, which also makes this better than most biopics as well, as it never feels messy or muddled, just showing one moment of Blake/Kurt’s life.

I really loved this film, and I’ll be writing about it in full soon.

The Village (2004) (dir. M. Night Shyamalan)

The Cracked.com/Channel Awesome audience stuck in 2012 will tell you that this was the beginning of the end for Shyamalan. That this was when people stopped taking him seriously, that this was when he became more of a punchline because of his twist endings.

But why?

The Village was released in 2004, deep in the Bush administration, during the early stages of the Iraq War. The leaders of the time were talking about imaginary boogeymen, terrorists that would attack the civilians if they could. Because of 9/11, politicians could get away with these false ideas with the majority of Americans fully believing them. The boogeymen in The Village are “The People We Don’t Speak Of”, monsters attracted by the color red. Yet we find out that they are all costumes made by the Elders of the land, designed to prevent people from going outside the land. They rule by fear disguised as love. They’ve gone through their own traumas through the deaths of their family members, but they’ve decided to completely abandon the lives that they’ve had and have their children living lies.

9/11 impacted American life by teaching citizens to live primarily by fear, to not trust anyone but their own people. And yet, post-9/11, all that increased was not “coming together”, but hate crimes against South Asian people. The rage white Americans had felt led to conservative politicians pushing fear-mongering agendas, and said white Americans blindly accepted. The outside world was progressing, but too many people were fine with living with further conservative politics only regressing American life further and further back, all for the illusion of safety. Meanwhile, the only threats to them were not the brown citizens outside of America they were so afraid of, but the white elders, the white politicians.

The Village explores these fears so eloquently, all while having a terrifying atmosphere, an enchanting score, and brilliant sound design. I enjoyed this movie very much.

Other viewings I enjoyed:

Beavis and Butt-Head Do America (1996) (dir. Mike Judge) (re-watch)

Blow Out (1981) (dir. Brian de Palma) (re-watch)

Clueless (1995) (dir. Amy Heckerling) (re-watch)

Furious 7 (2015) (dir. James Wan)

The Long Goodbye (1973) (dir. Robert Altman)

Lupin III: The First (2019) (dir. Takashi Yamazaki)

Unbreakable (2000) (dir. M. Night Shyamalan) (re-watch)

Velvet Goldmine (1998) (dir. Todd Haynes)

The Visit (2015) (dir. M. Night Shyamalan)

#favorite first watches #these movies are (chef's kiss)#beyond the valley of the dolls #russ meyer #deep cover #bill duke #fast five #justin lin #last days #gus van sant #the village #m night shyamalan

21 notes · View notes

armageddon-generation · 3 years

Text

Articulating Why His Dark Materials is Badly Written

A long essay-thing with lots of specific examples and explanations of why I feel this way. Hopefully I’ve kept fanboy bitching to a minimum.

This isn’t an attack on fans of the show, nor a personal attack on Jack Thorne. I’m not looking to ruin anyone’s enjoyment of the show, I just needed to properly articulate, with examples, why I struggle with it. I read and love the books and that colours my view, but I believe that HDM isn’t just a clumsy, at-best-functional, sometimes incompetent adaptation, it’s a bad TV show separate from its source material. The show is the blandest, least interesting and least engaging version of itself it could be.

His Dark Materials has gorgeous production design and phenomenal visual effects. It's well-acted. The score is great. But my god is it badly written. Jack Thorne writing the entire first season damned the show. There was no-one to balance out his flaws and biases. Thorne is checking off a list of plot-points, so concerned with manoeuvring the audience through the story he forgets to invest us in it. The scripts are mechanical, empty, flat.

Watching HDM feels like an impassioned fan earnestly lecturing you on why the books are so good- (Look! It's got other worlds and religious allegory and this character Lyra is really, really important I swear. Isn't Mrs Coulter crazy? The Gyptians are my favourites.) rather than someone telling the story naturally.

My problems fall into 5 main categories:

Exposition- An unwillingness to meaningfully expand the source material for a visual medium means Thorne tells and doesn't show crucial plot-points. He then repeats the same thing multiple times because he doesn't trust his audience

Pacing- By stretching out the books and not trusting his audience Thorne dedicates entire scenes to one piece of information and repeats himself constantly (see: the Witches' repetition of the prophecy in S2).

Narrative priorities- Thorne prioritises human drama over fantasy. This makes sense budgetarily, but leads to barely-present Daemons, the Gyptians taking up too much screentime, rushed/badly written Witches (superpowers, exposition) and Bears (armourless bear fight), and a Lyra more focused on familial angst than the joy of discovery

Tension and Mystery- because HDM is in such a hurry to set up its endgame it gives you the answers to S1's biggest mysteries immediately- other worlds, Lyra's parents, what happens to the kids etc. This makes the show less engaging and feel like it's playing catch-up to the audience, not the other way around.

Tonal Inconsistency- HDM tries to be a slow-paced, grounded, adult drama, but its blunt, simplistic dialogue and storytelling methods treat the audience like children that need to be lectured.

MYSTERY, SUSPENSE AND INTRIGUE

The show undercuts all the books’ biggest mysteries. Mrs Coulter is set up as a villain before we meet her, other worlds are revealed in 1x2, Lyra's parents by 1x3, what the Magesterium do to kids is spelled out long before Lyra finds Billy (1x2). I understand not wanting to lose new viewers, but neutering every mystery kills momentum and makes the show much less engaging.

This extends to worldbuilding. The text before 1x1 explains both Daemons and Lyra's destiny before we meet her. Instead of encouraging us to engage with the world and ask questions, we're given all the answers up front and told to sit back and let ourselves be spoon-fed. The viewer is never an active participant, never encouraged to theorise or wonder

Intrigue motivated you to engage with Pullman's philosophical themes and concepts. Without it, HDM feels like a lecture, a theme park ride and not a journey.

The only one of S1's mysteries left undiminished is 'what is Dust?', which won't be properly answered until S3, and that answer is super conceptual and therefore hard to make dramatically satisfying

TONAL INCONSISTENCY

HDM billed itself as a HBO-level drama, and was advertised as a GoT inheritor. It takes itself very seriously- the few attempts at humour are stilted and out of place

The production design is deliberately subdued, most notably choosing a mid-twentieth century aesthetic for Lyra’s world over the late-Victorian of the books or steampunk of the movie. The colour grading would be appropriate for a serious adult drama.

Reviewers have said this stops the show feeling as fantastical as it should. It also makes Lyra’s world less distinct from our own.

Most importantly, minimising the wondrous fantasy of S1 neuters its contrast with the escalating thematic darkness of the finale (from 1x5 onwards), and the impact of Roger’s death. Pullman's books are an adult story told through the eyes of a child. Lyra’s innocence and naivety in the first book is the most important journey of the trilogy. Instead, the show starts serious and thematically heavy (we’re told Lyra has world-saving importance before we even meet her) and stays that way.

Contrasting the serious tone, grounded design and poe-faced characters, the dialogue is written to cater to children. It’s horrendously blunt and pulls you out of scenes. Subtext is obliterated at every opportunity. Even in the most recent episode, 2x7, Pan asks Lyra ‘do you think you’re changing because of Will?’

I cannot understate how on the nose this line is, and how much it undercuts the themes of the final book. Instead of even a meaningful shot of Lyra looking at Will, the show treats the audience like complete idiots.

So, HDM looks and advertises itself like an adult drama and is desperate to be taken seriously by wearing its big themes on its sleeve from the start instead of letting them evolve naturally out of subtext like the books, and dedicating lots of scenes to Mrs Coulter's self-abuse

At the same time its dialogue and character writing is comparable to the Star Wars prequels, more childish than media aimed at a similar audience - Harry Potter, Doctor Who, Avatar the Last Airbender etc

DAEMONS

The show gives itself a safety net by explaining Daemons in an opening text-crawl, and so spends less time showing the mechanics of the Daemon-human bond. On the HDM subreddit, I’ve seen multiple people get to 1x5 or 6, and then come to reddit asking basic questions like ‘why do only some people have Daemons?’ or ‘Why are Daemons so important?’.

It’s not that the show didn’t answer these questions; it was in the opening text-crawl. It’s just the show thinks telling you is enough and never shows evidence to back that up. Watching a TV show you remember what you’re shown much easier than what you’re told

The emotional core of Northern Lights is the relationship between Lyra and Pan. The emotional core of HDM S1 is the relationship between Lyra and Mrs Coulter. This wouldn't be bad- it's a fascinating dynamic Ruth plays wonderfully- if it didn't override the Daemons

Daemons are only onscreen when they serve a narrative purpose. Thorne justifies this because the books only describe Daemons when they tell us about their human. On the page your brain fills the Daemons in. This doesn't work on-screen; you cannot suspend your disbelief when their absence is staring you in the face

Thorne clarified the number of Daemons as not just budgetary, but a conscious creative choice to avoid onscreen clutter. This improved in S2 after vocal criticism.

Mrs Coulter/the Golden Monkey and Lee/Hester have well-drawn relationships in S1, but Pan and Lyra hug more in the 2-hour Golden Compass movie than they do in the 8-hour S1 of HDM. There's barely any physical contact with Daemons at all.

They even cut Pan and Lyra's hug after escaping the Cut in Bolvangar. In the book they can't let go of each other. The show skips it completely because Thorne wants to focus on Mrs Coulter and Lyra.

They cut Pan and Lyra testing how far apart they can be. They cut Lyra freeing the Cut Daemons in Bolvangar with the help of Kaisa. We spent extra time with both Roger and Billy Costa, but didn't develop their bonds with their Daemons- the perfect way to make the Cut more impactful

I don't need every single book scene in the show, but notice that all these cut scenes reinforced how important Daemons are. For how plodding the show is. you'd think they could spare time for these moments instead of inventing new conversations that tell us the information they show

Daemons are treated as separate beings and thus come across more like talking pets than part of a character

The show sets the rules of Daemons up poorly. In 1x2, Lyra is terrified by the Monkey being so far from Coulter, but the viewer has nothing to compare it to. We’re retroactively told in that this is unnatural when the show has yet to establish what ‘natural’ is.

The guillotine blueprint in 1x2 (‘Is that a human and his Daemon, Pan? It looks like it.’ / ‘A blade. To cut what?’) is idiotic. It deflates S1’s main mystery and makes the characters look stupid for not figuring out what they aren’t allowed to until they did in the source material, it also interferes with how the audience sees Daemons. In the book, Cutting isn’t revealed until two-thirds of the way in (1x5). By then we’ve spent a lot of time with Daemons, they’ve become a background part of the world, their ‘rules’ have been established, and we’re endeared to them.

By showing the Guillotine and putting Daemons under threat in the second episode, the show never lets us grow attached. This, combined with their selective presence in scenes, draws attention to Daemons as a plot gimmick and not a natural extension of characters. Like Lyra, the show tells us why Daemons are important before we understand them.

Billy Costa's fate falls flat. It's missing the dried fish/ fake Daemon Tony Markos clings to in the book. Thorne said this 'didn't work' on the day, but it worked in the film. Everyone yelling about Billy not having a Daemon is laughable when most of the background extras in the same scene don't have Daemons themselves

WITCHES

The Witches are the most common complaint about the show. Thorne changed Serafina Pekkala in clever, logical ways (her short hair, wrist-knives and cloud pine in the skin)

The problem is how Serafina is written. The Witches are purely exposition machines. We get no impression of their culture, their deep connection to nature, their understanding of the world. We are told it. It is never shown, never incorporated into the dramatic action of the show.

Thorne emphasises Serafina's warrior side, most obviously changing Kaisa from a goose into a gyrfalcon (apparently a goose didn't work on-screen)

Serafina single-handedly slaughtering the Tartars is bad in a few ways. It paints her as bloodthirsty and ruthless. Overpowering the Witches weakens the logic of the world (If they can do that, why do they let the Magesterium bomb them unchallenged in 2x2?). It strips the Witches of their subtlety and ambiguity for the sake of cinematic action.

A side-effect of Serafina not being with her clan at Bolvangar is limiting our exposure to the Witches. Serafina is the only one invested in the main plot, we only hear about them from what she tells us. This poor set-up weakens the Witch subplot in S2

Lyra doesn’t speak to Serafina until 2x6. She laid eyes on her once in S1.

The dialogue in the S2’s Witch subplot is comparable to the Courasant section of The Phantom Menace.

Two named characters, neither with any depth (Serafina and Coram's dead son developed him far more than her). The costumes look ostentatious and hokey- the opposite of what the Witches should be. They do nothing but repeat the same exposition at each other, even in 2x7.

We feel nothing when the Witches are bombed because the show never invests us in what is being destroyed- with the amount of time wasted on long establishing shots, there’s not one when Lee Scoresby is talking to the Council.

BEARS

Like the Witches; Thorne misunderstands and rushes the fantasy elements of the story. The 2007 movie executed both Iofur's character and the Bear Fight much better than the show- bloodless jaw-swipe and all

Iofur's court was not the parody of human court in the books. He didn't have his fake-Daemon (hi, Billy)

An armourless bear fight is like not including Pan in the cutting scene. After equating Iorek's armour to a Daemon (Lee does this- we don’t even learn how important it is from Iorek himself, and the comparison meant less because of how badly the show set up Daemons) the show then cuts the plotpoint that makes the armour plot-relevant. This diminishes all of Bear society. Like Daemons, we're told Iorek's armour is important but it's never shown to be more than a cool accessory

GYPTIANS

Gyptians suffer from Hermoine syndrome. Harry Potter screenwriter Steve Kloves' favourite character was Hermione, and so Film!Hermoine lost most of Book!Hermoine's flaws and gained several of Book!Ron's best moments. The Gyptians are Jack Thorne's favourite group in HDM and so they got the extra screentime and development that the more complicated groups/concepts like Witches, Bears, and Daemons (which, unlike the Gyptians, carry over to other seasons amd are more important to the overall story) needed

At the same time, he changes them from a private people into an Isle of Misfit Toys. TV!Ma Costa promises they'll ‘make a Gyptian woman out of Lyra yet’, but in the book Ma specifically calls Lyra out for pretending to be Gyptian, and reminds her she never can be.

This small moment indicates how, while trying to make the show more grounded and 'adult', Thorne simultaneously made it more saccharine and sentimental. He neuters the tragedy of the Cut kids when Ma Costa says they’ll become Gyptians. Pullman's books feel like an adult story told through the eyes of a child. The TV show feels like a child's story masquerading as a serious drama.

LIN-MANUEL MIRANDA

Let me preface this by saying I genuinely really enjoy the performances in the show. It was shot in the foot by The Golden Compass' perfect casting.

The most contentious/'miscast' actor among readers is LMM. Thorne ditched the books' wise Texan for a budget Han Solo. LMM isn't a great dramatic actor (even in Hamilton he was the weak link performance-wise) but he makes up for it in marketability- lots of people tried the show because of him

Readers dislike that LMM's Lee is a thief and a scoundrel, when book-Lee is so moral he and Hester argue about stealing. Personally, I like the change in concept. Book!Lee's parental love for Lyra just appears. It's sweet, but not tied to a character arc. Done right, Lyra out-hustling Lee at his own game and giving him a noble cause to fight for (thus inspiring the moral compass of the books) is a more compelling arc.

DAFNE KEENE AND LYRA

I thought Dafne would be perfect casting. Her feral energy in Logan seemed a match made in heaven. Then Jack Thorne gave her little to do with it.

Compare how The Golden Compass introduced Lyra, playing Kids and Gobblers with a group of Gyptian kids, including Billy Costa. Lyra and Roger are chased to Jordan by the Gyptians and she makes up a lie about a curse to scare the Gyptians away.

In one scene the movie set up: 1) the Gobblers (the first we hear of them in the show is in retrospect, Roger worrying AFTER Billy is taken) 2) Lyra’s pre-existing relationship with the Gyptians (not in the show), 3) Friendship with Billy Costa (not in the book or show) 4) Lyra’s ability to befriend and lead groups of people, especially kids, and 5) Lyra’s ability to lie impressively

By comparison, it takes until midway through 1x2 for TV!Lyra to tell her first lie, and even then it’s a paper-thin attempt.

The show made Roger Lyra’s only friend. This artificially heightens the impact of Roger's death, but strips Lyra of her leadership qualities and ability to befriend anyone.

Harry Potter fans talk about how Book!Harry is funnier and smarter than Film!Harry. They cut his best lines ('There's no need to call me sir, Professor') and made him blander and more passive. The same happened to Lyra.

Most importantly, Lyra is not allowed to lie for fun. She can't do anything 'naughty' without being scolded. This colours the few times Lyra does lie (e.g. to Mrs Coulter in 1x2) negatively and thus makes Lyra out to be more of a brat than a hero.

This is a problem with telling Northern Lights from an outside, 'adult' perspective- to most adults Lyra is a brat. Because we’re introduced to her from inside her head, we think she's great. It's only when we meet her through Will's eyes in The Subtle Knife and she's filthy, rude and half-starved that we realise Lyra bluffs her way through life and is actually pretty non-functional

Thorne prioritises grounded human drama over fantasy, and so his Lyra has her love of bears and witches swapped for familial angst. (and, in S2. angst over Roger). By exposing Mrs Coulter as her mother early, Thorne distracts TV!Lyra from Book!Lyra’s love of the North. The contrast between wonder and reality made NL's ending a definitive threshold between innocence and knowledge. Thorne showed his hand too early.

Similarly, TV!Lyra doesn’t have anywhere near as strong an admiration for Lord Asriel. She calls him out in 1x8 (‘call yourself a Father’), which Book!Lyra never would because she’s proud to be his child. From her perspective, at this point Asriel is the good parent.

TV!Lyra’s critique of Asriel feels like Thorne using her as a mouthpiece to voice his own, adult perspective on the situation. Because Lyra is already disappointed in Asriel, his betrayal in the finale isn’t as effective. Pullman saves the ‘you’re a terrible Father’ call-out for the 3rd book for a reason; Lyra’s naive hero-worship of Asriel in Northern Lights makes the fall from Innocence into Knowledge that Roger’s death represents more effective.

So, on TV Lyra is tamer, angstier, more introverted, less intelligent, less fun and more serious. We're just constantly told she's important, even before we meet her.

MRS COULTER (AND LORD ASRIEL)

Mrs Coulter is the main character of the show. Not Lyra. Mrs Coulter was cast first, and Lyra was cast based on a chemistry test with Ruth Wilson. Coulter’s character is given lots of extra development, where the show actively strips Lyra of her layers.

To be clear, I have no problem with developing Mrs Coulter. She is a great character Ruth Wilson plays phenomenally. I do have a problem with the show fixating on her at the expense of other characters.

Lyra's feral-ness is given to her parents. Wilson and McAvoy are more passionate than in the books. This is fun to watch, but strips them of subtlety- you never get Book!Coulter's hypnotic allure from Wilson, she's openly nasty, even to random strangers (in 2x3 her dismissal of the woman at the hotel desk felt like a Disney villain).

Compare how The Golden Compass (2007) introduced Mrs Coulter through Lyra’s eyes, with light, twinkling music and a sparkling dress. By contrast, before the show introduces Coulter it tells us she’s associated with the evil Magisterium plotting Asriel’s death- “Not a word to any of our mutual friends. Including her.” Then she’s introduced striding down a corridor to imposing ‘Bad Guy’ strings.

Making Mrs Coulter’s villainy so obvious so early makes Lyra look dumber for falling for it. It also wastes an interesting phase of her character arc. Coulter is rushed into being a ’conflicted evil mother’ in 2 episodes, and stays in that phase for the rest of the show so far. Character progression is minimised because she circles the same place.

It makes her one-note. It's a good note (so much of the positive online chatter is saphiccs worshiping Ruth Wilson) but the show also worships her to the point of hindrance- e.g. take a shot every time Coulter walks slow-motion down a corridor in 2x2

The problem isn’t the performances, but how prematurely they give the game away. Just like the mysteries around Bolvangar and Lyra’s parentage. Neither Coulter or Asriel have much chance to use their 'public' faces.

This is part of a bigger pacing problem- instead of rolling plot points out gradually, Thorne will stick the solution in front of you early and then stall for time until it becomes relevant. Instead of building tension this builds frustration and makes the show feel like it's catching up to the audience. This also makes the characters less engaging. You've already shown Mrs Coulter is evil/Boreal is in our world/Asriel wants Roger. Why are you taking so long getting to the point?

PACING AND EDITING

This show takes forever to make its point badly.

Scenes in HDM tend to operate on one level- either 'Character Building,' 'Exposition,' or 'Plot Progression'.

E.g. Mary's introduction in 2x2. Book!Mary only listens to Lyra because she’s sleep and caffeine-deprived and desperate because her funding is being cut. But the show stripped that subtext out and created an extra scene of a colleague talking to Mary about funding. They removed emotional subtext to focus on exposition, and so the scene felt empty and flat.

In later episodes characters Mary’s sister and colleagues do treat her like a sleep-deprived wreck. But, just like Lyra’s lying, the show doesn’t establish these characteristics in her debut episode. It waits until later to retroactively tell us they were there. Mary’s colleague saying ‘What we’re dealing with here is the fact that you haven’t slept in weeks’ is as flimsy as Pan joking not lying to Mary will be hard for Lyra.

Rarely does a scene work on multiple levels, and if it does it's clunky- see the exposition dump about Daemon Separation in the middle of 2x2's Witch Trial.

He also splits plot progression into tiny doses, which destroys pacing. It's more satisfying to focus on one subplot advancing multiple stages than all of them shuffling forward half a step each episode.

Subplots would be more effective if all the scenes played in sequence. As it is, plotlines can’t build momentum and literal minutes are wasted using the same establishing shots every time we switch location.

The best-structured episodes of S1 are 1x4, 1x6, and 1x8. This is because they have the fewest subplots (incidentally these episodes have least Boreal in them) and so the main plot isn’t diluted by constantly cutting away to Mrs Coulter sniffing Lyra’s coat or Will watching a man in a car through his window, before cutting back again.

The best-written episode so far is 2x5. The Scholar. Tellingly, it’s the only episode Thorne doesn’t have even a co-writing credit on. 2x5 is well-paced, its dialogue is more naturalistic, it’s more focused, it even has time for moments of whimsy (Monkey with a seatbelt, Mrs Coulter with jeans, Lyra and Will whispering) that don’t detract from the story.

Structurally, 2x5 works because A) it benches Lee’s plotline. B) The Witches and Magisterium are relegated to a scene each. And C) the Coulter/Boreal and Lyra/Will subplots move towards the same goal. Not only that, but when we check in on Mary’s subplot it’s through Mrs Coulter’s eyes and directly dovetails into the main action of the episode.

2x5 has a lovely sense of narrative cohesion because it has the confidence to sit with one set of characters for longer than two scenes at a time.

HDM also does this thing where it will have a scene with plot A where characters do or talk about something, cut away to plot B for a scene, then cut back to plot A where the characters talk about what happened in their last scene and painstakingly explain how they feel about it and why

Example: Pan talking to Will in 2x7 while Lyra pretends to be asleep. This scene is from the 3rd book, and is left to breathe for many chapters before Lyra brings it up. In the show after the Will/Pan scene they cut away to another scene, then cut back and Lyra instantly talks about it.

There’s the same problem in 2x5: After escaping Mrs Coulter, Lyra spells out how she feels about acting like her

The show never leaves room for implication, never lets us draw our own conclusions before explaining what it meant and how the characters feel about it immediately afterwards. The audience are made passive in their engagement with the characters as well as the world

LORD BOREAL, JOHN PARRY AND DIMINISHING RETURNS

At first, Boreal’s subplot in S1 felt bold and inspired. The twist of his identity in The Subtle Knife would've been hard to pull off onscreen anyway. As a kid I struggled to get past Will's opening chapter of TSK and I have friends who were the same. Introducing Will in S1 and developing him alongside Lyra was a great idea.

I loved developing Elaine Parry and Boreal into present, active characters. But the subplot was introduced too early and moved too slowly, bogging down the season.

In 1x2 Boreal crosses. In 1x3 we learn who he's looking for. In 1x5 we meet Will. In 1x7 the burglary. 1 episode worth of plot is chopped up and fed to us piecemeal across many. Boreal literally stalls for two episodes before the burglary- there are random 30 second shots of him sitting in a car watching John Parry on YouTube (videos we’d already seen) completely isolated from any other scenes in the episode

By the time we get to S2 we've had 2 seasons of extended material building up Boreal, so when he just dies like in the books it's anticlimactic. The show frontloads his subplot with meaning without expanding on its payoff, so the whole thing fizzles out.

Giving Boreal, the secondary villain in literally every episode, the same death as a background character in about 5 scenes in the novels feels cheap. It doesn’t help that, after 2x5 built the tension between Coulter and Boreal so well, as soon as Thorne is passed the baton in 2x6 he does little to maintain that momentum. Again, because the subplot is crosscut with everything else the characters hang in limbo until Coulter decides to kill him.

I’ve been watching non-book readers react to the show, and several were underwhelmed by Boreal’s quick, unceremonious end.

Similarly, the show builds up John Parry from 1x3 instead of just the second book. Book!John’s death is an anticlimax but feels narratively justified. In the show, we’ve spent so much extra time talking about him and then being with him (without developing his character beyond what’s in the novels- Pullman even outlined John’s backstory in The Subtle Knife’s appendix. How hard would it be to add a flashback or two?) that when John does nothing in the show and then dies (he doesn’t even heal Will’s fingers like in the book- only tell him to find Asriel, which the angels Baruch and Balthamos do anyway) it doesn’t feel like a clever, tragic subversion of our expectations, it feels like a waste that actively cheapens the audience’s investment.

TL;DR giving supporting characters way more screentime than they need only, to give their deaths the same weight the books did after far less build up makes huge chunks of the show feel less important than they were presented to be.

FRUSTRATINGLY LIMITED EXPANSION AND NOVELLISTIC STORYTELLING

Thorne is unwilling to meaningfully develop or expand characters and subplots to fit a visual medium. He introduces a plot-point, invents unnecessary padding around it, circles it for an hour, then moves on.

Pullman’s books are driven by internal monologue and big, complex theological concepts like Daemons and Dust. Instead of finding engaging, dynamic ways to dramatise these concepts through the actions of characters or additions to the plot, Thorne turns Pullman’s internal monologue into dialogue and has the characters explain them to the audience

The novels’ perspective on its characters is narrow, first because Northern Lights is told only from Lyra’s POV, and second because Pullman’s writing is plot-driven, not character-driven. Characters are vessels for the plot and themes he wants to explore.

This is a fine way of writing novels. When adapting the books into a longform drama, Thorne decentralised Lyra’s perspective from the start, and HDM S1 uses the same multi-perspective structure that The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass do, following not only Lyra but the Gyptians, Mrs Coulter, Boreal, Will and Elaine etc

However, these other perspectives are limited. We never get any impression of backstory or motivation beyond the present moment. Many times I’ve seen non-book readers confused or frustrated by vague or non-existent character motivations.

For example, S1 spends a lot of time focused on Ma Costa’s grief over Billy’s disappearance, but we never see why she’s sad, because we never saw her interact with Billy.

Compare this to another show about a frantic mother and older brother looking for a missing boy. Stranger Things uses only two flashbacks to show us Will Byers’ relationships with his family: 1) When Joyce Byers looks in his Fort she remembers visiting Will there. 2) The Clash playing on the radio reminds Jonathan Byers of introducing Will to the song.

In His Dark Materials we never see the Costas as a happy family- 1x1’s Gyptian ceremony focuses on Tony and Daemon-exposition. Billy never speaks to his mum or brother in the show

Instead we have Ma Costa’s empty grief. The audience has to do the work (the bad kind) imagining what she’s lost. Instead of seeing Billy, it’s just repeated again and again that they will get the children back.

If we’re being derivative, HDM had the chance to segway into a Billy flashback when John Faa brings one of his belongings back from a Gobbler safehouse in 1x2. This is a perfect The Clash/Fort Byers-type trigger. It doesn’t have to be long- the Clash flashback lasted 1:27, the Fort Byers one 55 seconds. Just do something.

1x3 beats into us that Mrs Coulter is nuts without explaining why. Lots of build-up for a single plot-point. Then we're told Mrs Coulter's origin, not shown. This is a TV show. Swap Boreal's scenes for flashbacks of Coulter and Asriel's affair. Then, when Ma Costa tells Lyra the truth, show the fight between Edward Coulter and Asriel.

To be clear, Thorne's additions aren’t fundamentally bad. For example, Will boxing sets up his struggle with violence. But it's wasted. The burglary/murder in 1x7 fell flat because of bad editing, but the show never uses its visual medium to show Will's 'violent side'- no change in camera angle, focus, or sound design, nothing. It’s just a thing that’s there, unsupported by the visual language of the show

The Magisterium scenes in 2x2 were interesting. We just didn't need 5 of them; their point could be made far more succinctly.

In 2x6 there is a minute-long scene of Mary reading the I Ching. Later, there is another scene of Angelica watching Mary sitting somewhere different, doing the SAME THING, and she sees an Angel. Why split these up? It’s not like either the I Ching or the Angels are being introduced here. Give the scene multiple layers.

Thorne either takes good character moments from the books (Lyra/Will in 2x1) or uses heavy-handed exposition that reiterates the same point multiple times. This hobbles the Witches (their dialogue in 2x1, 2 and 3 literally rephrases the same sentiment about protecting Lyra without doing anything). Even character development- see Lee monologuing his and Mrs Coulter's childhood trauma in specific detail in 2x3

This is another example of Thorne adding something, but instead of integrating it into the dramatic action and showing us, it’s just talked about. What’s the point of adding big plot points if you don’t dramatise them in your dramatic, visual medium? In 2x8, Lee offhandedly mentions playing Alamo Gulch as a kid.

I’m literally screaming, Jack, why the flying fuck wasn’t there a flashback of young Lee and Hester playing Alamo Gulch and being stopped by his abusive dad? It’s not like you care about pacing with the amount of dead air in these episodes, even when S2’s run 10 minutes shorter than S1’s. Lee was even asleep at the beginning of 2x3, Jack! He could’ve woken from a nightmare about his childhood! It’s a little lazy, but better than nothing.

There’s a similar missed opportunity making Dr Lanselius a Witchling. If this idea had been introduced with the character in 1x4, it would’ve opened up so many storytelling possibilities. Linking to Fader Coram’s own dead witchling son. It could’ve given us that much-needed perspective on Witch culture. Imagine Lanselius’ bittersweet meeting with his ageless mother, who gave him up when he reached manhood. Then, when the Magisterium bombs the Witches in 2x2, Lanselius’ mother dies so it means something.

Instead it’s only used to facilitate an awkward exposition dump in the middle of a trial.

The point of this fanfic-y ramble is to illustrate my frustration with the additions; If Thorne had committed and meaningfully expanded and interwoven them with the source material, they could’ve strengthened its weakest aspect (the characters). But instead he stays committed to novelistic storytelling techniques of monologue and two people standing in a room talking at each other

(Seriously, count the number of scenes that are just two people standing in a room or corridor talking to each other. No interesting staging, the characters aren’t doing anything else while talking. They. Just. Stand.)

SEASON 2 IMPROVEMENTS

S2 improved some things- Lyra's characterisation was more book-accurate, her dynamic with Will was wonderful. Citigazze looked incredible. LMM won lots of book fans over as Lee. Mary was brilliantly cast. Now there are less Daemons, they're better characterised- Pan gets way more to do now and Hester had some lovely moments.

I genuinely believe 2x1, 2x3, 2x4 and 2x5 are the best HDM has been.

But new problems arose. The Subtle Knife lost the central, easy to understand drive of Northern Lights (finding the missing kids) for lots of smaller quests. As a result, everyone spends the first two episodes of S2 waiting for the plot to arrive. The big inciting incident of Lyra’s plotline is the theft of the alethiometer, which doesn’t happen until 2x3. Similarly, Lee doesn’t search for John until 2x3. Mrs Coulter doesn’t go looking for Lyra until 2x3.

On top of missing a unifying dramatic drive, the characters now being split across 3 worlds, instead of the 1+a bit of ours in S1, means the pacing/crosscutting problems (long establishing shots, repetition of information, undercutting momentum) are even worse. The narrative feels scattered and incohesive.

These flaws are inherent to the source material and are not the show’s fault, but neither does it do much to counterbalance or address them, and the flaws of the show combine with the difficulties of TSK as source material and make each other worse.

A lot of this has been entitled fanboy bitching, but you can't deny the show is in a bad place ratings-wise. It’s gone from the most watched new British show in 5 years to the S2 premiere having a smaller audience than the lowest-rated episode of Doctor Who Series 12. For comparison, DW's current cast and showrunner are the most unpopular since the 80s, some are actively boycotting it, it took a year-long break between series 11 and 12, had its second-worst average ratings since 2005, and costs a fifth of what HDM does to make. And it's still being watched by more people.

Critical consensus fluctuates wildly. Most laymen call the show slow and boring. The show is simultaneously too niche and self-absorbed to attract a wide audience and gets just enough wrong to aggravate lots of fans.

I’m honestly unsure if S3 will get the same budget. I want it to, if only because of my investment in the books. Considering S2 started filming immediately after S1 aired, I think they've had a lot more time to process and apply critique for S3. On the plus side, there's so much plot in The Amber Spyglass it would be hard to have the same pacing problems. But also so many new concepts that I dread the exposition dumps.

86 notes · View notes

gizkasparadise · 4 years

Text

cdrama rec/review: go ahead

KDRAMA AND CDRAMA MASTER LIST OF REVIEWS

Series: go ahead Episodes: 40 Genres: family, healing/melodrama, slice of life, romance Spoilers in the Rec: for the first 20% ish/set-up If You Like, You’ll Like: reply 1988, le coup de foudre, find yourself (same production company/main male actor), rain or shine/just between lovers, found family stories, meet again stories

Rank: 10/10** (see Drawbacks section)

PREMISE

widower hai chao and his 6 year old daughter jian jian live happily above his noodle restaurant despite the recent, tragic death of his wife. one day, dysfunction junction a married couple (he ping, a police officer, and chen ting, a real piece of work) move into the same building with their 7 year old son, ling xiao. immediately, jian jian attaches herself to ling xiao, who is unexpectedly grim for a small child.

because ling xiao’s family is less-than-healthily grieving the loss of their youngest child, ling xiao’s sister who died in a terrible accident. The Apartment of Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms eventually implodes, ending with chen ting abandoning her husband and son. he ping, suddenly a single father, and hai chao come to a friendly partnership that is clearly alluding to gay marriage where they co-raise both of their kids--hai chao as the primary caregiver, and he ping supporting them financially through his job as a policeman.

meanwhile, the neighborhood busybody is dead-set on getting hia chao remarried. eventually she introduces him to a divorced single mother, he mei, and her son zi qiu, who is ling xiao’s age. they sort of start to date, but it culminates in he mei skipping town and leaving zi qiu behind. hai chao, man with a heart of gold, informally adopts him and zi qiu becomes jianjian’s foster brother.

from there, the trio grow up happily and become inseparable. but once zi qiu and ling xiao graduate high school, the bullshit parade their respective childhood skeletons reappear in their lives. circumstances lead to the boys moving overseas, leaving jianjian and their fathers behind.

they reunite after 9 years, when the boys return to a home where they hope to pick things back up from where they left off. things are more complicated than that, as jianjian finds herself in a new life and surrounded by new people.

MAIN CHARACTERS

li jian jian

hai chao’s daughter and the only girl in the family. she attended the required short-hair-low-grades training program required of all cdrama youth female leads. super positive and outgoing, as well as the youngest of the three pseudo-siblings, jian jian grows up spoiled and over protected by her father and brothers, and as a result is completely devastated once her family falls apart. it’s so sad.

after the time skip, she’s an on-the-verge successful artist who makes woodcarvings, and exudes big art bro energy. inhales sugar like it’s nobody’s business. she inherited her father’s disease called caring too much, and it’s incurable!!

ling xiao

the eldest brother and resident fun police. ling xiao comes from a seriously toxic home that finally seems to improve once his mother leaves. but then she comes back. fucking great. introverted to the point of being withdrawn to anyone but his chosen family, ling xiao’s had to carry a lot of emotional weight that takes a larger and larger toll on him as the series progresses. please get this boy some therapy.

becomes a dentist because jian jian needs one. wears a lot of monochromatic outfits with low necklines because heavy angst but make it fashion. has been in love with jian jian since high school and is still carrying that torch 9 years later.

he zi qiu

the middle child who grows up in hai chao and jian jian’s home, and is her foster brother in all but paperwork. hotheaded, zi qiu and jian jian basically share two brain cells that ling xiao routinely takes from them for safekeeping. he spoils jian jian, sneaking her snacks and junk food and wants to become a pastry chef so he can open a sweet shop for her!!

my favorite character. just wants to be wanted 8( him and hai chao’s relationship is my favorite dynamic in the series. will sob while driving a pink moped. is too proud to beg

li hai chao (left) and ling he ping (right)

the greatest (hai chao) and okayest (he ping) dads in the world! noodle dad/hai chao has never done anything wrong in his life, ever, and we know this and we love him. he ping isn’t a bad person, but demonstrates pretty classic absentee parenting/isn’t as emotionally present in his son’s life as hai chao. hai chao is the heart of the family, and would do anything for his kids 8(

SOME SUPPORT CHARACTERS

tang can (left) and qiu ming yue (right)

jian jian’s #GirlGang and roommates. they, like literally everyone in this drama, have some severe mom issue hang-ups. tang can (left) is a former child actress who is struggling with her lack of success as an adult and gives well-meaning but absolutely terrible advice on the regular.

ming yue (right) is jian jian’s best friend since childhood and as an adult is trying to break free from her mother’s controlling nature--she’s also had a thing for ling xiao for the last 9 years. raises fish for symbolism purposes.

chen ting

ling xiao’s mom and certified garbage human. unable to cope with the death of her daughter that was her fault lbr, she abandons her family and disappears for ten years. she forces her way back into ling xiao’s life when he turns 18, where it’s revealed that she’s remarried and ling xiao has a younger half-sister chengzi (”little orange”). shit goes down, and soon ling xiao is forced to move back to singapore to serve as primary caregiver to both his mother who abandoned him and the half sister he barely knows.

emotionally abusive and basically hits every single square on the toxic parent bingo card. i just. i just hate her. even typing this out is making me mad.

he mei

zi qiu’s mother. after a few dates with hai chao, she ends up ditching her kid and disappearing for unknown reasons. is a slightly better parent than chen ting but that’s like saying some poison kills you slower. the show tries to bring us around on her but it didnt work for me.

SOME OTHERS

zhuang bei, zi qiu’s best friend growing up who i would like a lot less if he wasn’t played by the same actor who played my beloved dachuan

zheng shuran, jian jian’s first boyfriend and fellow artist who’s got a weird thing for women’s waists and pretentious artists’ statements

du juan, jian jian’s friend who co-owns their woodworking studio. has absolute trash taste in men

chengzi, ling xiao’s half-sister who can be a brat but dear god does she need to be protected/saved

**DRAWBACKS

so this is a weird one for me. what i didn’t like i really didn’t like, but what i loved i really loved. ultimately, the factors/uniqueness of this show and the loveability of the main characters outweighed the negatives and it’s one of my favorite dramas.

THAT SAID. i got some #thoughts on this one.

first, there are literally no positive mother figures in this show. not a damn one. they are all negligent or controlling at best or down right abusive at worst. no woman over 30 is portrayed positively and that’s a big No from me.

the last 10 eps have some pacing issues and focus on the wrong people. spending the remaining episodes focused on one of the most universally hated characters vs. the main family was a bad move

the show tried to redeem or make us sympathize with characters that were, to me, completely irredeemable. one case is worse than the other, but both of them were terrible people that deserved to be cut out of the main family’s lives.

REASONS TO WATCH

the main family. the characters are so wonderful and nuanced, and their dynamics with one another were amazing. you’ll fall in love with hai chao aka noodle dad and the trio. they go through so many trials but they still stick together and it’s ultimately a healing drama and i loved it very much.

the central romance was less in focus, but the pining is enough to make jane austen emerge from the grave. i loved the leads together, and while LOL ling xiao’s attachment to jian jian was not always healthy, they supported each other and it made me smile. i love me a tortured pining dude.

#Acting. everyone played their parts to perfection. the child actors in particular were so well-cast (esp baby zi qiu)

the soundtrack lmao. you watch the opening credits and know you’ll need to buckle up

idk it’s a very unique show, and i haven’t seen one like it. reply 1988 comes close, but it doesn’t tackle the same issues and it was all just very real and earnest.

Final Thoughts.

GOODNIGHT, GOOODBYYYYYE MY CHILDREEEEEEEN

#go ahead #song weilong #zhang xincheng #tan songyun #cdrama #gizka does kdrama

96 notes · View notes

stormkrigeren · 3 years

Text

Whumptober Day 6!

Link to the Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34210837/chapters/85417618

Title: Bruises - Clark

Prompt: No. 6 ‘Touch And Go’ - bruises, touch starved, hunger

Word Count: 1231

Clark gingerly touched his shoulder, which was quickly turning a dark, clouded purple beneath his shirt, and glanced through the sparse contents of the little medicine cupboard in the bathroom. Superman had heard the hill tremble right before it collapsed but he had been focused on the evacuation efforts and hadn’t really had the time to move out of the way when six-hundred cubic meters of dirt and rocks hit him full force. Any humans that may have been caught in the slide might have been killed almost immediately, though luckily everyone nearby had been moved a safe distance away and the only victims were a few head of cattle and Superman - who despite his extraterrestrial invulnerability was having a bit of a bad day and was pretty decently bruised.

It wasn’t that big of a deal, he told himself. He healed fast, especially in full sunlight, but today really wasn’t his day considering how overcast it was in Metropolis. The bruise would probably take a few hours to patch itself up before he could go back to using all of his limbs normally and painlessly. That’s why he was in the medicine cupboard - Clark was pretty desperate for some pain meds.

“Smallville?”

Clark nearly bumped his head on the counter, he looked up so fast at the sound of her voice, and he quickly located the source of it leaning against the open bathroom door, watching him with a look of curiosity.

“What’re you doing in the tampon cupboard, babe?” Lois asked, folding her arms over her chest with a playful smile, “Nosebleed?”

“No,” he answered shyly, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand despite himself and glancing back at the shelf to confirm that yes, Lois’ collection of feminine products was conveniently situated right beside the box of Nyquil and bandages, “I was looking for some ibuprofen… or something...”

“I thought your metabolism was too fast for any of the over-the-counter medication,” Lois pointed out, and he shrugged. A Kryptonian metabolism was much faster than a human one, resulting in Clark constantly being just a little bit hungry and having generalized immunity to everything from coffee to poison to alcohol and even most medicines. Lois was right - he would need to overdose on ibuprofen to feel so much as mild relief.

“While we’re on the topic, are you going to tell me why you were looking for meds in the first place?” she spoke up, interrupting his train of thought and dragging his attention back to her. Clark paused at the question despite himself, resisting the urge to touch the bruise covering most of his left side as he answered quietly.

“I was feeling a bit sore.”

Lois’ eyes narrowed instantly, and he knew what she was thinking because he was thinking it too: soreness usually came from an injury of some sort, and Clark never got injured.

Or at least, not very often.

“Ooooookay,” she said slowly, drawing the word out as she stepped closer to him, “Any particular reason you might be feeling sore? Something you’re not telling me about?”

“It’s not a girlfriend, I promise,” Clark joked half-heartedly, but one look at her face and he knew that it had been a bit out of taste. This was Lois Lane, after all - Pulitzer Prize-winning investigative reporter and generally someone not to be messed with (not to mention absolutely perfect in every way, if Clark was making the list) - and given the context of the situation, she had been clearly asking about world disasters and not a nonexistent affair.

“I got a few bruises after getting caught in a landslide,” he sighed, “Nothing big, just-“

“Where?”

“Venezuela.”

“Fuck, no, I mean where are you bruising?” Lois corrected herself, and Clark glanced sheepishly up at her from his spot on the tiled bathroom floor.

“My left side mostly, though it’s not that bad and will heal soon. I think I threw my shoulder out of socket, but it healed as I got home so it feels almost fine now-“

Clark knew his reflexes has slowed quite a bit, but he was still surprised to discover that they were slowed enough that Lois was able to pull up the hem of his shirt before he got the chance to react, her eyes widening at the sight of the faded yet still quite large purple and green bruise covering most of his back and side.

“Shit, Clark, it looks like you got hit by a bus!” she exclaimed, “When did this happen? Recently?”

“Maybe forty-five minutes ago. It’s not that bad, it felt way worse when I first got it.”

“Did you ice it as soon as you got home?” she pressed, only for Clark to shrug an obvious ‘no, I didn’t think of that’.

It was at that moment that realization dawned on Lois, and it suddenly occurred to her that this Kansas farm boy who never got into fights or earned so much as a scratch or bruise in his daily life had no idea what to do when the unexpected happened. She sighed, “You have no idea how to treat a bruise, do you?”

Clark, being Clark, flushed bright red and stared at the floor, thoroughly embarrassed as he shook his head, “I always just sat in the sun for a bit. It seems to work just fine.”

Lois didn’t know enough about that particular aspect of alien physiology to argue with him, so instead she shut Clark up by sitting down on the floor beside him and yanking open a different cupboard door. After a brief scrounge through its contents, she found what she was looking for: a small stash of HotHands packets purchased for her return to trip to Ellesmere Island during her search for the Kryptonians. There were still a few left, so she promptly pulled one out and snapped the activator, shaking it a little bit to get the warmth to spread faster while Clark looked on with interest.

“Always treat bruising with ice ASAP. It helps to slow the flow of blood and prevent the clotting we see as a bruise,” she lectured, pressing the packet against the discolored skin beneath his arm and silently noting that he didn’t even try to resist or ask what she was doing. It briefly reminded her of all the times she had treated her own injuries in the same way while growing up on various army bases doing dangerous shit, and later embedded in military conflicts whilst still doing dangerous shit. But Clark didn’t need to know that.

“Since it’s a bit too late for icing it, we’re going to use heat instead to encourage blood circulation and remove the clotting,” she continued, “It’ll still take a bit, but it’s hopefully faster than waiting for your magical plant powers to kick in.”

“I thought you decided to call it ‘charging’. ‘Sunlight charging’, or something along those lines. We both know I heal faster when energized,” Clark teased, and Lois had to bite back a chuckle at his attempt at snark.

“Well ‘Bond, James Bond’, I’ve decided that you are now a plant and would photosynthesize a bit better if we sat in the living room with the curtains and windows open,” she snarked back with a grin, “It’s a beautiful evening, and it’ll do you some good to sit in the sun.”

#whumptober2021 #no.6 #bruises #DCEU #Clark Kent #fic #Red Capes #Lois Lane #Superman

2 notes · View notes

goose-books · 3 years

Photo

goose-books productions: a 2020 review

view the image in higher quality here! (open the image in a new tab to zoom in.) thank you to my dearest @yvesdot for the template

transcripts and month-by-month details under the cut! for reference, you can find my projects here :-) overall, new and old followers, thank you for another good year over here! [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your h

january

i spent late 2019-early 2020 working on 2019’s nano project, quark, aka the speculative fiction thing about new york city and prophets and dissections of the chosen one trope and gay people. quark is my second-oldest project (five years!), but it’s also probably the most ambitious, so it’s been... difficult to wrangle into place, and i didn’t end up finishing a first draft. oh, well.

enjoy a snippet that is devastatingly emblematic of everything about quark. the tone. the homoerotic tension. the ensemble cast all talking over each other. the fact that caelum has spent pretty much this entire scene crying. fun autopsy report meeting.

Marble stares at the notebook in Shade’s hands. Or maybe he’s staring at Shade’s hands. Dawn feels a little voyeuristic, so she does what she does and says a dumb and unrelated thing: “Augustus, I think this pizza-on-the-floor thing is hurting my ass.”

Augustus flutters his hands. “Sometimes nonconformity is painful.”

“At least we’re originals,” Caelum mumbles into his sleeve.

“Exactly,” Augustus says.

“True originality doesn’t exist,” Marble says.

“Oh,” Shade deadpans, “it’s going to be a fun autopsy report meeting.”

It isn’t.

february

in january i stressed myself out trying to make the plot of quark work. so in february, i decided to take some time and write something Entirely For Fun. like, entirely for fun, no rules. and. my god. how do i explain the project i started calling “third eye for the bad guy.”

it was an unholy mashup of many of my past hyperfixations, including the gone series, a tale of two cities, warrior cats, and the left hand of darkness. one of the characters was a canon scalie and one was a canon fictionkinnie. it centered around a polycule of wannabe-evil-overlord high schoolers. i only wrote like three chapters but i was lost in the sauce for all of february and then i just… like… wiped it from my mind and moved on? somehow??? one character was a werewolf and that literally wasn’t relevant at ALL

Someone was going to die on these steps.

This had been Ivy Lee Palomo’s thought last year during the all-school photo, and it rose in her mind again now. The one hundred marble stairs leading up to the great double doors of Saint Constantine Academy were the school’s pride and glory, steep as the mountain, sharp as the blade under Ivy Lee’s skirt. With the cutting wind and snow glazing the stone more often than not, with the freshmen wild and wired on their first day of their first year, it was really only a matter of time before someone slipped and cracked their fucking head open.

It wasn’t going to be her. Not when she had Doc Martens and reflexes like an electric coil. Still. Ivy Lee didn’t want to watch someone die. She didn’t get along with dead people.

march

in march, i got back to the project i’d started in 2019 - AMT, my podcast! it’s a shakespeare retelling set in a modern high school; this excerpt is funnier and also more unnerving in context. (double, double, toil and trouble...)

INDRAJIT: What the hell are you doing?

[PAUSE.]

DEE (like she’s lying): Making pasta.

[ALL THREE OF THEM LAUGH.]

NONA: That’s right.

MORA: We have the keys to Mab’s office.

DEE: We’re using her stove.

NONA: To make pasta.

DEE: Do you want some?

[A TENSE PAUSE.]

INDRAJIT: No.

april

and darkling rears its head! all of my other projects have existed for at least a year; darkling (specfic king lear retelling) is... special. it was conceived in april, when i started hyperfixating on king lear, and i still managed to write an absolutely ridiculous amount of content for it. it was like the power of hyperfixation let me speedrun the entire process. which. okay.

iv: control

They say Cressida Stayer was nine years old when she turned her hair to gold. They laid her down in bed blonde, and the next morning, the waves cascading down her shoulders were solid metal, glinting harshly in the sunlight, weighing her down, creating that odd head-cocked expression she still wears now. Nine years old. Two or three years before most people develop enough magic skills to dye a single curl. Much less transfigure their hair into precious metal.

People also say Leovald Stayer’s immediate reaction was to hack it off her head and melt it down for cash. But generally they say that part a lot quieter.

may

in may i wrote AMT episode 15, by which i mean that in may there was a day when i sat in my room with the door shut for literally five straight hours listening to the same three songs on loop as i wrote the climax of one of the plotlines of AMT. so. that sure was… a day.

ISAAC: Do you want… do you want someone to drive you home? Hawk, you’re worrying me -

HAWK (almost cutting him off): Don’t. Don’t say that. I’m here to help. With your… thing.

ISAAC (quietly): I… don’t know if you should be here to see this.

HAWK (a little louder, more audibly upset): Well - what else am I going to do? Go home and - and have my dads talk at me and - and not be able to answer them? Because I can’t? I can’t. I don’t know what to say.

[PAUSE.]

ISAAC (V.O.): I wonder if this is what he feels like, on the outside, looking in at me. Watching someone else hurting. Helpless and afraid.

He still fits perfectly in my arms. I rest my chin on top of his head and pull him close to me, like I can stop him from shaking, like I can stop anything from happening the way I know it’s going to. I bury my face in his hair. He smells so familiar. He’s so warm.

God, Hawk. I love you so much. You shouldn’t be here to see this. Something bad’s gonna happen. And you’re not the kind of person who belongs in a tragedy.

june

okay, honestly, i should talk about “night shift” here, because in june i wrote a whole short story in one night (and then foamed over it for a week), but i am still in the process of submitting it places! so i am terrified to put even a sentence of it online. instead: the other thing i did this month was to finish AMT! (sixteen episodes and somewhere around 175k, iirc, but don’t quote me.) these lines are the opener to the final episode!

RAHMA (V.O.): The combined series of sophomore year disasters stretched through November. It’s June now. It’s taken me… a long time to get this all put together. I was going to make a vlog about it, initially - well, calling it a vlog sounds frivolous. I was going to make a video recounting the whole deal. All of it. From when I kissed Avery Fairchilde to the very last night. I scripted dozens of drafts; I put together dozens of bullet-pointed lists of what to cover… and it was never enough. Because Avery and I weren’t the only ones involved. Even if I was only focused on the two of us, it wasn’t just the two of us.

So… I gathered up everyone else. The whole town of Ellisburg is still talking about the week the town went crazy, but it wasn’t just a week. There was a lot leading up to it. And I think if anyone’s going to talk about it, it should be us. The people who lived it. So here we are. The most ambitious Rahma Ashiq production of all time - at least so far.

july

every july i pause whatever else i’m doing to celebrate the birthday of aurum & argentate, twins from my oldest and dearest WIP The Mortal Realm. july fifteenth! mark your calendars. they’re princes, though argentate would really rather not be; you can read the full birthday piece here.

“Do you… plan to get dressed?” A bit of the usual humor crept back into Aurum’s voice. “Although if you want to speak to the kingdom in your underthings, by all means, you have my full support.”

Argentate scrubbed at his face. He wasn’t dressed, no, but the usual malaise hung over his shoulders like a cloak. Guilt. Nerves. The sick sense that he hadn’t done something he was supposed to. The numb knowledge that it was too late to change a thing.

“I meant to,” he said. “Get dressed, I mean.” The rest went unsaid: I have just been sitting here. On the floor. Thinking about how I should get dressed.

“Ah,” Aurum said, extending his hand. “The traditional route. We’ll save the nude speeches for the future, then.”

Argentate took his hand, stumbling a little as Aurum pulled him to his feet. He steadied himself on the closest wall, taking a few deep breaths. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. His hands found their way to the cross, again and again.

august

this summer, i wrote an entire draft of Valentine Van Velt is Dead, AKA “holden caulfield goes to exposure therapy,” AKA the weird little personal side project i keep tucked into my coat. interesting features include second-person narration from a narrator who doesn’t like the main character all that much. so reading it is kind of like the book wants to kill you? with an added dash of general melancholy.

You used to live here. That’s the thing that’s got you feeling so off.

You didn’t recognize your old house. I mean, you kind of did. You remembered that the road was on a hill. That hill felt like a goddamn forty-five degree angle when you were a kid. But if you didn’t have the address written down you wouldn’t have known it at all. It would have been just another little suburban house in rows of perfect little towns that make your skin crawl.

So now you’re in this diner looking out a gross smudgy window trying to block out the elevator music pumping through the speakers in the ceiling or whatever. I don’t know how speakers work. You’re trying to tune that shit out. The waitress comes over and catches you by surprise so you just point at some coffee thing on the menu so she’ll go away. For the record: you don’t drink coffee.

There’s a public library across the street. A little square building. You probably used to go there. The lady comes over and thunks your coffee on the table and gives you a kind of look, like she wants to know what in the goddamn hell you think you’re doing here and not at school. You sip your coffee and look out the window until she leaves you alone again. And then you spit it back into the cup because, for the record: you don’t drink coffee.

september

i spent september and october prepping for nano, so i was mostly working on darkling...

It’s late spring; still, at this time of night, on a rooftop, there’s a chill. The wind plays with the end of Ruby’s coat, with her hair. She hands the bottle off to Jasper, stares up at the fogged-over sky, wishes she were lying in Dany’s arms in Dany’s bed instead of here. Wishes, even, that Dany were the one on the roof with her. At least then they’d be cold together. At least then she wouldn’t have to imagine what Dany would say; she could just listen, and watch Dany’s flashing smile and her flinty eyes.

(She cuddles. This is another thing Dany does that Dany probably shouldn’t do, based on everything about Dany; it’s not like rattlesnakes cuddle. But Dany likes to nuzzle into Ruby’s side and rest her head on Ruby’s collarbones and toss an arm over Ruby’s chest, and hold her down like she’s worried she’ll float off somewhere. She’ll card her fingers through Ruby’s hair and hum. Even though they could get caught, even though she’s probably got better places to be - Dany cuddles.)

Ruby imagines it, momentarily, both of them on the roof together, sprawled like horrifyingly beautiful gargoyles, sharp teeth flashing, blood running hot. Up here - it’d be like they ruled the world.

But whatever. Jasper’s fun. He’s hot. He’s got a sharp tongue in a lot more ways than one. And she likes when he lets the mask down. She likes seeing the soft bits underneath. She wants to sink her teeth and nails into them so hard she draws blood. Masks don’t bleed. Ruby would know; that’s why she is what she is.

october

...though i was also in creative writing class in school, and thus ended up writing a bunch of poems of varying quality (my teacher had a real thing for poetry) and also one darklingverse short story where rory and cressida hold hands! which you can find here.

Lorelai Rory Flowers is afraid of thunder.

This is a bit of an embarrassing thing to admit, as they’re seventeen (“at least seventeen,” they like to tell people, “maybe two hundred, who’s to say?”) and generally wise beyond their years, or whatever it is that adults say about kids with too much psychological baggage. Being afraid of thunder is not a very wise-beyond-one’s-years trait. And yet the state of affairs remains: loud noises make Rory want to melt into the earth. Back when they still went to school, even the fire alarm sent them scuttling under their desk to hide.

Right now, in the elevator, all they can do is shrink into their sweater.

They haven’t let go of Cressida’s hand yet.

november

and then november of course was nano which was an adventure all the way through. (opening tumblr on the fifth day of nano to find out about d*stiel... was something.)

“Apologize to me. Or get out of my house.”

Gracen’s voice is very, very low. For a moment she thinks he hasn’t heard her at all. Then he spins, eyes blazing. “What did you say?”

Gracen watches her own chest heave. She pushes herself up off the desk, stands with the effort of pushing a mountain off of her back. Leovald is six-foot-four. Gracen is six-foot-two. In her heels, in the heels she must wear to be a professional woman, to be a lady - they are the same height.

Gracen wipes her nose. When she lowers her arm, there’s a streak of blood across the back of her hand. Fire shivers in her chest; her heart rings in her ears; her voice could cut steel.

“I said,” she says, low, slow, volume building, “apologize to me. Or get. Out. Of. My. House.”

december

and finally, the poem i posted this year! it’s called the beast sonnet, and you can find it in its own post over here (with commentary! how sexy.)

i kill the beast and drop down to my knees, my blade stained dark with blood of stygian hue, and for a moment these scarred hands shake free, and hold a world unfurled for me anew. but once-mourned victims, victors, vices find; fear winged me; now its absence strips me bare. my sword now dulls, my legs, my voice, my mind; the beast, pried from my throat, leaves no skill there. and still i hear it laugh, O DEVOTEE— O CHILD DEAR, NO GLORY WITHOUT ME.

i was quite productive this year; i have to think it was because i was avoiding things... the peak of my productivity happened over the summer and in november, AKA, college app hell. (almost done with the last applications! pray for me.)

a general breakdown of what occupied me this year:

(no, i don’t know why the “various other things” category ended up so large... i blame all the one-off projects i wrote a single page for, and also whatever the fuck happened in february. yes, i do know why it looks hideous; it’s because each of my WIPs has a theme color

thank you once again for spending some time at goose-books dot gov this year! what to expect for next year: well, i very much hope i can produce AMT... also hoping to get darkling ready for beta readers, so keep your eyes out!

#max.txt #and that's a wrap!!! what a goddamn year.#okay. breath in. tags:#quark tag #third eye tag #(i think there are like. two posts in that one?)#amt tag #darkling tag #tmr tag #vvvid tag #wow that was a lot of text. if you read all this... [blows you a kiss] thank you!#max actually writes #year in review

15 notes · View notes

emma-nation · 4 years

Text

Unfinished Business - F!Sam x MC Fanfiction

Summary: When Sam Dalton is caught in a scandal, Anna Schuyler is the only one who can help her. But will her former nanny be able to leave the past behind?

"Samantha Dalton was like one of good dreams you don't want to wake up from. You close your eyes, you force your brain to remember every minor detail, you begin to imagine what comes next... hoping to be in control. You want to fall asleep again. You want it to continue, but it's too late now. You're wide awake."

Genre: Angst, Romance

Notes: Hell yeah, three ongoing multichapter fics. I'm so screwed 😎

Tag List: If you wish to be tagged in future chapters and fics of this pairing, let me know.

"I can't do this anymore, Sam," Anna did the best to avoid her eyes. With the right look, they could melt the ice that had formed around her heart for the last few weeks. One look could make things warm again, but only for some time. Time enough for her to open up and fall in love once more, immediately followed by the realization all of that was nothing more than an illusion. She'd be fooling herself again.

This time she just had enough. It was the end.

"Anna, I'm sorry," the CEO didn't know very well what to say. Despite her usual calm voice tone, Anna could sense the nervousness in her words. "But Sofia is my wife."

"And I'm only the nanny."

"This is not what I meant. We just... we allowed ourselves to get too carried away. It was good while it lasted but now, we must face reality."

It was just a dream. Samantha Dalton was like one of good dreams you don't want to wake up from. You close your eyes, you force your brain to remember every minor detail, you begin to imagine what comes next... hoping to be in control. You want to fall asleep again. You want it to continue, but it's too late now. You're wide awake.

----------

Anna collected her stuff from the desk, giving one last emotional glance to the classroom in front of her. Before leaving for Summer, her fourth grade students had prepared her a small surprise. A little party with cake, snacks and a "Thank You, Ms. Schuyler" sign hanging in the back of the room. They also drew her some cards, which she saved for when she got home. It could become very emotional for her workplace.

"Anna," the principal appeared at the door, catching her attention, "I came here to congratulate you. It was your first year as a Science teacher in our school and you captivated all the kids, as well as their parents."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Rockwell," Anna smiled. "I love working with children and now I see I made the right decision taking this job. This year was the most rewarding experience of my life."

"So we can expect you to return next year? I'm sorry, the parents keep me asking this question all the time."

"Absolutely!"

"They'll be glad to hear that. Have a nice Summer, Ms. Schuyler."

After living in New York for the last two years, Anna was finally ready to drive to her mother's home in Rhode Island. They both had saved enough money for a road trip across the country. Her mom deserved to live that dream after caring for her ill step-dad for some long months, until his recovery.

When she arrived at her apartment, her best friend, Jenny, was still at work. What meant she'd have enough time to finish packing without having to stop to hear the latest gossip about the company she worked for, or unsolicited dating advice.

"But first," Anna pulled the small pile of cards from inside her purse, "let me cry my eyeballs out."

And she did. She learned how to love and connect to each one of her students. Those cards need to be kept in a special place, where she'd always be able to read them and remember the sweet moments she shared with those children.

Grabbing a box in her closet, Anna accidentally came across a picture of the Dalton twins. She didn't even remember where she had placed it, when she was getting rid of everything related to that family. All she wanted was to keep those boys' memory out of sight. She missed them too much for words. They were the reason why she accepted that job as a teacher in first place.

"I wonder how different they must look now," she thought. "They're already nine."

With a tightness in her chest, Anna placed the picture back in its secret spot.

"I still can't believe you're really going!" Later that evening, Jenny complained in the living room, where she divided her attention between painting her nails and watch TV.

"Well, it's time for you to come with terms with that. I'm only returning by the end of Summer," Anna responded from the kitchen, while she finished washing the dishes.

"Anna, we could have the Summer of our lives. Think about all the hot men and women you could meet, all the parties we could attend..."

"I promised my mom, okay? We've been planning this trip since I finished college."

Jenny was suddenly teleported back to her side, wrapping her arms around her like a clingy teddy bear.

"But I'm gonna miss you," she spoke with a mournful voice.

"I'll miss you too," Anna assured her. "I'll keep you updated on every detail. Don't worry."

"I know your mom is going with you but... Anna, it's time for you to find someone. Even if it's only a one night stand."

"This is not the main purpose of this trip. This isn't about my sex life, I want my mom to relax."

"It has been two years, for god's sake."

"I know. And I'm glad I've set my priorities straight, I live with my best friend in a nice apartment, I got this amazing job and I love my students. I don't need anyone else in my life to be happy. I am happy."

Jenny rolled her eyes, crawling back to the couch. She should know it was useless to bring up this subject. Anna's heart was indefinitely closed for balance. If that was one thing she learned from her last experience was that shouldn't open up so easily.

"Shut the hell up!"

Jenny yelling so loud in the living room, made Anna almost drop the plate she was holding.

"You need to come here right now and watch this," she added.

"I'm sorry, Jenny. You're not getting me into that steamy TV show you're always obsessing about."

"It's a really good TV show, okay? But it doesn't matter at the moment. You need to watch the latest news!"

Jenny was actually watching the news. Nothing good could've happened to spark that sudden interest. That had to be something stupid or celebrity gossip. Against her best judgment, Anna approached the TV.

"If that's something silly, I'll kill you for interrupting my tasks!" Anna's mouth suddenly dropped when she read the headline on her screen. "Oh."

"Dalton Enterprises Scandal: CEO Sam Dalton accused of insider trading."

Images of police officers closing the company and carrying out boxes and computers for further investigation appeared on the screen. As well as Sam being conducted to the officer's car while journalists and photographers chased after her.

"Karma's a bitch, huh?! Mrs. Perfect is going down!"

Anna didn't answer to her best friend. She was still trying to process what her eyes were watching. Her heart seemed to stop for a second as the camera focused on Sam's face. In just a few seconds, her eyes had the desperate need to capture every detail. She wanted to know if she looked any different, if she had changed her hair or even her clothes. She wanted to know if some make-up was trying to hide the bags under her eyes for lack of sleep, or if she had been so happy with her marriage she was appearing even younger. Any minor signs that would make her mind create a possible scenario of what Sam's life could be right now.

She hadn't seen or heard of Samantha since quitting her nanny job. Though it was difficult, she managed to avoid any news related to the Dalton Enterprises CEO. They didn't part in good terms, yet one thing she was sure about, Sam was a decent person. She would never get involved in such a scandal. She had a reputation to keep.

"I... I don't know what to say," Anna was finally able to mumble some words. "Honestly I don't think she'd do that. There must be a misunderstanding."

"Anna! Are you seriously defending her?! After everything she's done to you?"

"No. I just..." Two years had passed since the wedding. Anna realized a lot could've changed. Sam could've changed. She had changed. "Maybe you're right."

As she lied in bed, millions of thoughts started running through her mind. What would be of the boys? Who would have their custody in case Sam went to jail, her parents or Sofia? Could Sofia or Robin have any involvement in that scandal?

Anna didn't get any sleep that night. When she woke up in the morning she was still exhausted.

The apartment was silent and peaceful. Jenny had already left to work. She was alone. No one would witness or even judge her next action. After preparing herself some coffee she sat down and started to research more about the insider trading scandal.

"I'm not interested, only curious," she mentally assured herself as thousands of articles started showing on her laptop screen.

Not only Sam was being accused to cheat on Sofia with another woman, but she tried to cover up the affair by giving her mistress a check to purchase Dalton Enterprises stocks. The launch of a new and revolutionary product in the coming weeks would surely grant her some cash. In the following days of the launch, the woman and her husband made millions of dollars.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Sam?"

The trials were scheduled for the next few weeks, and in case of conviction, the CEO could spend over 20 years in prison.

Only a couple of days later, Anna was in the garage placing all her luggage inside the trunk. She had to leave immediately, for her own sanity. The scandal was a great reason to stay away from New York City. The television wouldn't stop talking about that subject, or show the face of the woman she once loved.

"Dammit," entering the car, Anna noticed she had forgotten her cell phone upstairs. The latest events had impacted her more than they should. She was constantly distracted and anxious, secretly following the last developments of the case.

She picked up her phone, returned to the car and turned on the radio. Playing some loud music always helped her to relax. The crowded streets and the buildings slowly started to stay behind as the road approached.

"And I'm here, to remind you of the mess you left..."

Anna sang aloud, completely involved by the song. And then, her eyes almost missed it. Through the rearview mirror she saw a blur moving on the back seat.

"What the..." she needed to remain calm and act cautiously. The roads were impressively calm and deserted, a perfect scenario for murder, like in every horror movie. She slowly slipped her hand into her purse, grabbing the pepper spray. "I'm not one of those chicks who die so easily."

In one sudden fast move, she stomped on the breaks and turned around, spraying whoever was hiding behind her seat.

"Anna!" She was able to take a better look. The figure was wearing a hoodie and sunglasses. "Stop, please!"

She was able to recognize that voice even among millions of people. The years hadn't erased it from her memories.

"S-Sam..." Anna pulled the disguise, confirming her suspicions, "what are doing here? In my back seat?"

"I can explain."

"You better."

She returned to the driver's seat, attempting to relax. Samantha Dalton was inside her car, for some very screwed up reason.

"I know it's strange," and now she had moved to the passenger seat, being at a short distance from her. Close enough to notice how her presence was making her nervous. Close enough to notice she wasn't breathing. Close enough to see her hands shaking. "But I needed you to hear me."

"You could've called, Samantha. Or even showed up at my door! You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"You wouldn't answer. Would you?"

And that was it. One look and all the walls melted away. Her heart started beating faster, reminding her of the moments they shared two years before.

"No," Anna answered, fighting those feelings. "I wouldn't."

"I need your help, Anna," Sam touched her arm briefly, but enough to know she'd cause impact. "I'm in serious trouble and you're the only one that can help me."

#playchoices #the nanny affair #sam dalton #sam dalton x mc #sam x mc #f!sam dalton x mc #f!sam x mc #the nanny affair fanfiction #tna fanfiction #unfinished business #choices stories you play

49 notes · View notes

sazorak · 3 years

Text

Every Game I Played in 2020, Ranked

2020. Boy, what a garbo year huh? Didn't actually play that many games this year all-in-all. Happens! My backlog is getting pretty big, but I just find it hard to focus on games when I could be working on something. Or put off working on something, as it may happen to be at times.

My arbitrary decision from years ago to only attach a numbered ranking to same-year releases is getting increasingly silly, especially given my propensity to wait on playing games until I’m in the right mood, but whatever. That order matters than the dumb numerical numbering anyway.

2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018 | 2019

Later Alligator – 2019 – Steam – ★★

The style of this game is very cute, and the jokes are funny enough. But… ok, look, I’m not one to be precious about what is or isn’t a game. But this really isn’t a game. It’s a series of disconnected, unrelated challenges clipped from Atari Free Mini Game Collection 100, wrapped in a very non-interactive adventure-game. It’s cute, it’s kind of sweet, but it’s dull. Dull dull dull. There’s a pointless, mandatory sliding block puzzle early on that infuriated me by its mere existence. Them giving the ability to skip it because “wow you’re bad at this huh”, which, while accurate, also just sold the whole point meaningless of the “““interactive experience”””.

Also: when a huge part of your game is WOW WE ANIMATED EVERYONE REALLY GOOD, text boxes that reveal word-by-word, far away from the animations that occur when said characters talk? Kind of stinks!

8. Carrion – 2020 – Steam – ★★

What Carrion does well— the whole “You’re controlling The Thing and just rippin’ people apart!” shtick— is really neat. They made that bootleg The Thing animate real-ass good.

The actual game as a whole though? Kind of garbage. Imagine a Metroidvania with zero actual exploration, where every opportunity you have to venture off the path instead results in immediate railroading with constant, utterly inexplicable one-way pipes. It’s not that it’s linear, it’s that it actively slaps you when you attempt to explore. It’s very frustrating! Add the fact that the tentacle-monster-shtick makes challenging to actually, y’know, move around and control all your bits… the only reason I finished the game was due to foreknowledge of its extreme brevity.

I think if the game were more open and less obsessed with constantly handing out upgrades, as well as having less of a focus on pure combat, I think I’d have enjoyed it more.

SD Gundam G Generation Cross Rays – 2019 – Steam – ★★

It is well documented at this point that I am both an active Gundam fan, and as well as an on-again-off-again tactical RPG aficionado. A SD Gundam game appearing on Steam with a good English translation and localization is… exciting, to say the least. That said, I have never had much context for this game series beyond the basic facts that the combat tended to be pretty well animated CG, and that it’s vaguely similar to Super Robot Wars. Turns out… it’s really different from SRW? I dunno how the rest of the series fairs, but Cross Rays is weird as hell.

For one, there’s zero tutorialization at all. None. Almost all of what I’m going to explain here is me figuring stuff out by trial and error, or by reading junk online. Gundam is insanely popular, you’d think they’d be interested in explaining how it all works, but… nope. Even Super Robot Wars has multi-level introductory bits for new folks to show them the rope these days.

So: Cross Rays is a tactical RPG where you can playthrough the storyline of various Gundam AUs. You can play through them in any order. These playthroughs are fairly literal translations of the stories. You take control of the lead mecha from those series, fight enemy mobile suits that show up in SRW-like tactical RPG combat, until all reinforcements cease. Pretty straight forward. There are occasionally mission variants like “prevent enemies from reaching X” or “prevent enemies from destroying Y”, but even those can be just reduced to “kill everything very quickly please.”

But here’s the thing: while there is a story progression, the characters in the story itself actually have no character progression. These characters and mecha are actually considered guests, despite it being ostensibly their story. Instead, you are able to field “permanent” mecha and pilots of your own choosing, which do have progressions. There is no plot justification for this or anything like it. The game does not recognize that it’s weird that during Iron-Blooded Orphans intro where nobody knows what a Gundam even is, you can have 25 Gundams show up at once and just fire lasers at everything. That’s because this game is actually about repeatedly grinding the same set of missions over and over.

Pilots are recruited by completing certain in-mission requirements. Mecha are acquired by either by getting enough kills with the progression-less “guest” mecha, combining mecha you already have gashopon-style, completing certain quests, or by leveling up mecha and then “evolving them”. This is the actual core of the game.

SD Gundam G Generation Cross Rays is basically Disgaea, it turns out? You’re grinding story missions at various difficulty levels in order to complete missions, try to recruit specific pilots, equip them with stats and levels to make them stronger, and then hitting mecha together in a sort of quasi-SMT fusion system until you get all the powerful mobile suits you desire.

The combat itself is kind of… bland? There’s a lot of systems, but they mostly seem in service of making an already easy game easier, or burning through tedium. There are four different difficulty modes, because there’s not actually that many different missions you can play through. The expectation is you’ll just work your way through every story beat while ramping the difficulty up over time to where the “guest” mecha would not be able to handle on their own. In fact, letting the story mecha act out the story beats is actually bad after a point, unless you’re still trying to get those lead mobile suits, or if you’re trying to complete some mission requirement in order to recruit Named Wing Grunt Pilot #246.

There is something to the notion of “I want to get N and N and N and N on a team, piloting weird but powerful mobile suits, and just solo every Gundam AU in a row,” but the whole premise seems kind of against purpose. Why bother recreating story beats at all, then? It’s not like the game even acknowledges any of that going on.

If the point is that I’m supposed to be, like in other grind-heavy tactical RPGs, breaking the systems to my own end in order to proceed… why not make the missions you play challenges focused towards that? The story progression literally only exists to facilitate the mission-based unlock conditions, which makes all the energy put into making them JUST LIKE THE ANIME really damn pointless.

I like tactical RPGs, I like breaking RPG systems so as to beat hard challenges (I beat all the insanely hard extra bosses in FFXII for crying out loud), I looooove Gundam. I should like this. But I don’t really have the “god, I NEED TO FILL THIS LIST” gene that some folks have… except as an excuse to continue to engage in gameplay I enjoy. The gameplay here seems in service of the collection, rather than the way around.

7. Pokemon Sword: The Isle of Armor – 2020 – ★★★

Pokemon’s first foray into actually doing DLC is… a mixed bag. As a positive, they’ve improved the Wild Area concept I liked from the main game, and even brought back buddy Pokemon walking behind you. That’s neat. On the other hand: the actual progression in it is completable in like an hour, it doesn’t scale with you, so you’re bound to be over leveled for it, and all the raid stuff, while still conceptually neat, is just as flawed as in the base game. And so, you’re just left with even more new Pokemon to RNG grind on to continue to catch-them-all. Nah, I’m good.

Astral Chain – 2019 – Switch – ★★★

Platinum knows how to make good character action games. They’ve made a bunch of them. Bayonetta, Nier: Automata, Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance. They also know how to make some kind of mediocre character action games. Transformers: Devastation, Wonderful 101, their various shovelware character action games like Korra. Astral Chain falls somewhere in the middle, I guess?

Astral Chain has all the production of their good games. It has some stylish, cool action. It has a neat core mechanical idea, in that it’s essentially a two-character action game where you control both characters at once. It has a lot of the old mechanics from some of their best games brought in; witch-time last second dodging from Bayonetta, Nier’s shooting-and-slashing combination, the Zandatsu mechanic from Metal Gear Rising, even Wonderful 101’s multi-unit shenanigans. The setting is different, and there’s some neat world flavor all in all.

But, of all games I’ve played over the past few years, Astral Chain made me more vividly angry than any other. It’s not that it’s too hard— far from it, really, I found its combat incredibly mashy. No, the problem is that it has so many shitty mechanics slathered on that it become a chore to get to the “good bits”.

Why would you put forced stealth sequences in your character action game, especially when your movement controls are not suited for it?

Why the HELL would you put platforming sections in your character action game, constantly, especially when your stupid ghost buddy can accidentally yank you off the edge, your auto-combos can just throw you off the edge, or literally anything can knock you off the edge and make you lose life?

Why would you put so many constant excuses into the world to force me use the digital sensor in the game, that also makes it miserable to walk around while using it?

WHO THE LIVING FUCK THINKS THESE SHITTY BOX BALANCING MINI-GAMES ARE FUN???

These games are supposed to encourage me to perfect everything, right? Why keep putting fucking fights you need to complete in order to get an S rank behind backtracking, or Legions I don’t have yet? That isn’t adding replayability, that’s just wasting my time. There are even in-level missions that have fail conditions that you never even know about. Surprise!!! A lot of them involve chasing after guys and catching them with your chain, which is really obnoxious to do!!!! SURPRISE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The story is just Bad Evangelion, straight up. Every story beat from Evangelion is here, executed worse. They also make your character have a twin just so they can have a character who can talk and feel emotions, because your boring-ass protagonist is stuck being an emotionless audience cipher. Cool!!!

Tetris Effect – 2018 – Origin – ★★★

It’s drugs Tetris. I personally don’t use, or have synesthesia for that matter. I imagine this game is better if you do. It’s an enjoyable enough experience but it feels incredibly slight for what I was expecting from it, or even compared to something like Lumines, which has tons of replayability by way of its difficulty. Tetris just isn’t that hard, unless you’re forcing yourself to do weird shit to get points. I WILL NEVER LEARN HOW TO T-SPIN. Never.

Castlevania Anniversary Collection – 2019 – Steam – ★★★

Kind of an unremarkable Castlevania collection. Neat that it has an official translation of Kid Dracula in there, but also… look, I prefer Metroidvania Castlevanias, OK?

6. Spelunky 2 – 2020 – Steam – ★★★

I’m not entirely sure why this doesn’t click for me where Spelunky 1 did. More annoying intro levels? Too many fiddly requirements for different ending-progression? Gameplay additions that just make things more annoying? Spelunky 1 was hard, but there was a kind straight-forwardness to it, even with its weird secrets, that made it much easier to grok and continue banging your head against. I’m just not having as much fun with this. Difficulty should be challenging, not a hassle.

5. Stellaris: Federations – 2020 – Steam – ★★★

This is the year that Stellaris just broke for me.

Federations itself is a good DLC; it adds some really interesting mechanics tied to various types of multi-national unions (the titular federations, as well as the Space UN), as well as the addition of unique “origins” that allow you to further specialize your gameplay. The origins in particular are a great addition that allows more specialization and roleplay.

I’m just tired of the sheer amount of busywork Stellaris forces you to do. Every DLC adds more junk you need to keep an eye on, and the fact that the AI doesn’t even bother with it (compensating with copious economy boosts in order to keep up) makes the whole thing frustrating. It’s like playing fetch with yourself; you just get tired of chasing after your own ball after a point.

I have to wonder if they’re pivoting towards a notional Stellaris 2 at this point? Might not be a bad idea for them, though it is weird with all they talked up adding more origins when Federations came out.

4. GranBlue Fantasy Versus – 2020 – Steam – ★★★★

This is probably the fighting game I got most into over the past few years. There’s just this nice, almost Street Fighter-esque ease of execution to the controls, and that Arc Systems Works 3D-as-2D style continues to just do work. I don’t give a single shit about GranBlue Fantasy (frankly, I think I’d enjoy this game more if it wasn’t attached to a property) but the characters are fun enough to play and look at.

The big problem here is two things: no crossplay, and no rollback netcode. In the span of a month, this game became a total ghost town on PC, and it doesn’t sound like PS4 faired that much better.

Ring Fit Adventure – 2019 – Switch – ★★★★

I’ve fallen on-and-off this game all year. At its heart: it works, it’s a fun exercise game. I don’t think it really feels like a “game” (in the sense that I’m not really coming to it for riveting gameplay or anything) as much as just a guided exercise experience, but… that’s fine? The in-game story is kind of flat, but funny in the fact of it existing at all. Buff Nicol Bolas and all.

XCOM 2: War of the Chosen – 2017 – Steam – ★★★★

XCOM2: War of the Chosen is a great answer to what XCOM2 struggled with. As I discussed back in 2016 (Jesus Christ), XCOM2 tried to push against player’s worst instincts by incentivizing them to keep being aggressive through a whole bunch of timers— which, kind of just weren’t fun given how much accidentally walking into an ambush could “ruin” dozens of hours of play. War of the Chosen dials that back in some intelligent ways, by instead making the encounter designs themselves, as well as much more grab-and-bail mission types, encourage players to push ahead instead. Smart!

The addition of the Chosen makes the game feel more alive, and they really do make missions harder— particularly early on. But they’ve somehow accidentally fell into the hole, where XCOM just… isn’t that hard? Early on it’s challenging, particularly with the resource restrictions and all. But they keep giving you more and more options (that aren’t especially meaningful choices) that make your team more and more powerful, without increasing the strength of the enemy as time goes on. By the five-hour mark, you basically know if you’re going to steam roll the game or not.

The amount of additional character and variety in the gameplay is great, I just wish it had a more challenging difficulty curve. Maybe make the meta-layer of when enemies show up more targeted to where players are at. If a player is doing well, ramp up the difficulty, if they’re struggling, pull it back a bit. I should always feel like I’m just barely keeping ahead with XCOM, not like I’m bored. And by the end of War of the Chosen, I was kind of getting bored, really. Oh well.

3. Animal Crossing: New Horizons – 2020 – Switch – ★★★★

This is probably the video game that I spent the most time with hours-wise this year. I’m not entirely sure why? It’s a nice evolution of New Leaf, in that the crafting, environment shaping, and general quality-of-life improvements made are quite nice. There’s clearly been some thought on how people play these games, and ways to make the experience less frustrating.

… and yet, they kept so much tedium in the game. Like yes, the schedule stretching is the point, I get it. As someone who for some reason decided not to play with the clock, I only just recently finished the fish, fossils, and insects for the museum. But there’s just so many weird, little things that just make it hard to keep coming back to it. It’s like… to what end? When I’ve unlocked everything, and basically seen the entirety of the item list at this point, and the holiday events all being the game meaningless collectathons…. Why? I’m not going to try completing the collection; the museum stuff is about my limit, really (and even the paintings I can probably pass on).

I guess even an idealized, digital representation of a quasi-domestic life has the spiritual emptiness of consumerism-for-consumerism sake. Thanks???

Hypnospace Outlaw – 2019 – Steam – ★★★★

I grew up on the internet of the early 00s. I had an AngelFire website, mostly consisting of shitty sprite webcomics and hosted Gundam pics. I remember when Google wasn’t really a thing and you would heavily rely on website compilation sites like the Anime Web Turnpike in order to find anything of value online. It was weird, it was wild. It was exciting!

The internet seemed so different back then. There was a ton of garbage online, but also, like… there was a sense of optimism to it. Folks were shitty, there was plenty of bad stuff online, but it felt so disconnected from the fabric of the physicality of real-life that it was at the same time a perfect escape.

I was young when I first got “online”, something like 12. I remember having this notion that the internet was going to be this great equalizer, that it had infinite potential to change how people behave and interact. Boy, huh.

Hypnospace Outlaw is essentially a splendid alternate universe GeoCities recreation, where you’re a volunteer moderator of a grouping of websites on HypnOS, an internet-analog you access while you are sleep. At the surface level, it’s mostly about poking around the weird alternate-historical version of the internet they created, full of kids feuding, bizarre historical divergences, and plenty of amazing bespoke weirdness. All of this is great; there’s an incredible amount of content that’s just great to poke at, listen to, and explore.

Below the surface, there’s also a rolling plotline about the ethics of this industry-owned platform, those who run it, and the way corporations handle new technology, new platforms, and emerging digital societies. There’s a late game turn that’s pretty damn affecting. And as someone who has moderator his share of internet forums in his time, trying to balance ‘do it for the community’ and what your ostensible ‘bosses’ require of you, it was kind of a weird throwback in more ways than one.

Minecraft – 2011 – PC – ★★★★★

Turns out, Minecraft is really as good still who knew??? Started playing a bunch more of it this year due to Giant Bomb deciding to do so, and yeah: still good!

2. Hades – 2020 – Steam – ★★★★★

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again— Supergiant makes damn good games. I’d been holding off on checking out Hades until its full release due to my tendency to burn out on games easily, and I’m glad I waited. Hades is a fantastic rogue-lite experience. The way it makes narrative progression part of the reiterative, randomized rogue-lite structure is just perfect.

It’s got all the usual Supergiant bullet points. Great characters, voice acting, narration, and music. In terms of gameplay, it’s probably their least ambitious game— playing something like a cousin to their original game, Bastion— but it’s also been polished to a mirror sheen. It just feels really damn good to play, over and over and over.

That being said, the second (final?) ending feels kind of…. Tacked on? It’s fine as a goal to go for while continuing to do the game’s relationship mechanics for additional story bits, but it ends up feeling kind of unfulfilling compared to the payoff of the first one.

1. Crusader Kings III – 2020 – Steam – ★★★★★

I never could get into Crusader Kings II. Despite my interest, the sheer mechanical heft and unintuitive interface made the game a wall that I just couldn’t get over. I’m sure if I’d dedicated myself I probably could have learned it, but… ehhhhhh.

Crusader Kings III, on the other hand, has a good tutorial, a cleaned-up UI, and a very helpful highlight and tooltip system that make it much easier to understand how to actually play the game through resources inside the game itself. And, as it turns out: I rather love this game.

I mean, conceptually it’s an easy sell, isn’t it? Historical politics is something I enjoy broadly. I liked Stellaris but wish it had more narrative, roleplaying elements. They outright say that “winning” isn’t really the point of the game. Instead, it’s more about emergent storytelling and playing with the different systems and seeing what you can do with it.

My current game has had me taking the Haesteinn dynasty from its Viking origins into England, forming a London-seated Northern Sea Empire that encompasses all of Britannia, Iceland, Holland, Norway, and Denmark. I am currently working on hegemonizing Norse religious control over enough Asatru holy sites to finally reform the religion, such that more unified feudalization can occur. To that end, my current ruler’s predecessor invaded West Francia and conquered the whole of its territory, substantially reducing the foothold of Catholicism in mainland Europe… which seems to have kicked the hornet’s nest, given the Crusade I’m going to need to contend with next time I boot up the game.

Of course, a complicating matter is that my current ruler— the Emperor of the North Sea, King of Ireland and the Danelaw, liege of the King of Denmark, was elected from the extended Haesteinn family via Thing, the Scandinavian council of his erstwhile vassals. Where the previous emperor, the one who manufactured the invasion of Francia, was quite religious and beloved for his adherence to the old ways, I discovered as I took over as his successor that he really, really is into just boning down across Europe. We’re talking constantly attempting to seduce neighboring Queens and Princesses. His vassals are not thrilled with this. They also don’t care for his propensity for torturing people to death, constantly.

I had no real say in this; attempting to stay on top of a dynasty is kind of like riding a bucking-bronco, so many things are only tenuously under your control that some weird shit can happen. This is especially true when you use the systems that make it easier to maintain the coherency of your domain. The Norse religion encouraging concubinage results in you having a lot of kids, which means there’s a lot of domain partition going on (someday, primogeniture, someday). Naturally, using Thing election reduces that, but also makes you sometimes end up having to play Emperor Stabbo-Fucko because they thought he was the best candidate at the time. Hell, I thought he was the best candidate at the time until I discovered just how many people he’d be laying with on the low. But you just have to roll with it.

The way the game forces you to play ball with character traits is great. Doing things that match with the character’s traits makes them lose stress. Doing things against their character increases stress. Too much stress can force you to make the character take up vices (which can make them suffer health or opinion maluses, as well as altering their aptitudes), or even die outright. And sometimes those vices and attitudes can be boons, given they open up opportunities for different character interactions.

Emperor Stab-and-Fuck-Kingdom is perhaps the most relaxed person alive, it turns out, because his sadism makes him really enjoy sacrificing infidels, which makes the gods happy. It also freaks the fuck out of all of his vassals, so they’re a good supplicant mix of both appreciative of my religious sentiments and also utterly terrified of my skull piles. Some especially brave vassals occasionally try to assassinate me, but my lovers keep jumping in front of the knife and saving my life mid-coitus. Iiiiiit happens! :D

The game can be incredibly fun to just watch, as it becomes emergently weird. Georgia right now is incredibly Jewish in game. I’m not sure how that happened; I guess someone made a random Jewish guy into a vassal, who somehow moved up enough in the world to make it a movement? The Byzantine princes elected a Coptic as Emperor, which over the course of the decade resulted in very accelerated balkanization as Byzantium just lost its shit. The Middle East and notional HRE haven’t really unified in a meaningful way, so I’m curious how things are going to go if/when the Mongols unify and roll-on in.

It’s one of those “Just one more thing” games that can completely devour time. I have more than a few times checked the clock mid-game to see that it’s 4AM and that I’ve totally ruined my sleep schedule in the process of play. Oooooops.

I highly recommend checking it out if you’re curious; the introductory, pre-release video series Paradox put out showing off the game does a pretty good job of showing the core gameplay loop and also how weird it can get.

#GAME OF THE YEAR #GOTY #nonfiction #thinkpiece #2020 #Crusader Kings 3 #Hades #SD Gundam #Animal Crossing

9 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Quarantine On Crack...yet again

PART ONE

Until Dawn Gang + Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Underage Drinking, Shameless Flirting

Genre: Crack, Humor

Summary: Time to check on our favorite gang who are still quarantined together and have still surprisingly not murdered one another. The lodge is still intact, which is promising. And everyone still has all seven of their limbs. How long will this simulation of peace last for is the real question.

Requested by my dear Until Dawn Anon who I haven’t heard from in so long 🥺 Hii dear! I have missed you tremendously! Here we are again to witness the craziness of our babies and I hope you’ll join me on the rollercoaster once again! Sorry it has taken me so long to write the long-ago-promised part 2 to the crack fic but here it finally is! Hope you enjoy it! Love and miss you, Vy ❤

“Alright folks, the delivery has arrived!“ I announce as Josh, Sam and I stumble through the front door of the lodge, each one of us carrying large boxes of food and toiletries. Bless the Washingtons for still sending us food, if I were them, Lord knows I’d either forget to do so or simply not do it because I didn’t feel like it. Hey, I’m not saying I hate these people, I’m just insinuating that they would not among my priorities had I been the one responsible to send them food. They should be in that case - but I’m being very honest when I say they wouldn’t be.

“Finally!“ Jess and Emily are so in sync for two people who supposedly can’t stand each other, it’s scary. Not that I wasn’t already scared of them to begin with. I just have a hard time dealing with them. But they are good in bed so I keep them around...

“What do you mean ‘finally’? We still have food from last week.“ Matt points out, a slight frown on his face when he lifts his head from the book he’s reading.

“We ran out of coffee capsules, duh!“ Jess says as though she’s addressing the most obvious thing to a person with very low IQ.

Matt does the smart thing of rolling his eyes and returning to his book. Speaking of which, I’m sending another blessing to the Washingtons for having the GRAND library here. I know I would’ve gone nuts and murdered half of these bitches if I didn’t have a book or two to keep me busy. That’s how things are with me, I either have a book to read or I’m committing a murder rampage. No in-between, at least not with these people.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs attracts our attention. Mike, Mr. Golden Boy comes down the stairs and plops down next to Jess, wrapping his arm around here, “There better be some beer in there.” He winks at me. Yeah, that’s Mike alright - has his arm around one girl, winks at another.

“I swear to God, if you two try to have a sword fight with empty beer bottles again, one of you is getting sent to the cabin.“ Josh warns us, taking on the parent role for once.

“Whoa there, Dr. Phil! Send us to the ranch next, why don’t ya!“ I roll my eyes at him, seeing his expression beg to change into a smile at my joke while he’s trying to maintain his no-funny-business look.

“Can we go unbox these things already? My arms are dead by now.“ Sam complains and doesn’t wait for an answer from us as she takes off with a rather fast pace towards the kitchen.

Josh and I are quick to follow. Much to my dismay, in order to reach the kitchen, we have to pass by where Emily is sitting. Since I haven’t already put in a request for a restraining order against her, passing within grabbing distance of her is risky as all hell. But you know me, I love risks. Passing in front of her I get ballsy and even give her the finger as I go.

“You’ll regret that, Y/N! You’ll fucking regret it!“ She calls after me in teasingly threatening manner that almost makes me chuckle, however I keep my features as still as the ones of a statue and I don’t turn back around.

Sam and Josh have already cut the boxes open and have started moving the products from the box onto the kitchen counter and island. I grab the box cutter from its spot near the sink and cut the box open as well. To Josh’s dismay but my incredible luck, there are indeed a few beer bottles in my box. I cheer silently as I take them to the cooler.

“You know, Sam...“ Josh’s voice interrupts the silence just as I’m about to close the cooler. I’m honestly intrigued by what he has to say to Sam, and eavesdropping might be wrong, but it’s not like the fuckers can’t see me standing five fucking feet away! - so I pretend I’m organizing the cooler so I don’t have to return to the center of the kitchen where the two of them are crouched by their packages. A quick look over my shoulder confirms that they are indeed having a *MOMENT*, one I wouldn’t want to interrupt.

“Yes, Josh?“ Sam responds, giving me an urge to go grab some popcorn before any more progression happens. I know these two have eyes for one another, but they are both massive hypocrites! The are doing the very thing they hold against Chris and Ashley: hiding their feelings. Since I’m Josh’s unlicensed and unpaid therapist, I have a bit more intel on what’s going on in his head. It’s basically: 30% what am I doing with my life; 30% I need a drink; 40% Sam. You’d be surprised if you knew how often he mentions her when he’s venting. I’ve encouraged him to make a move countless times but it’s like trying to talk me into not killing Mike - impossible.

“You could melt the snow outside.” It takes me all my might to hold back from facepalming. Oh God, if this is what he thinks I meant when I said ‘tell her how you feel‘ he couldn’t be more wrong.

“Ok, lovebirds!“ I have never been happier to hear Chris’ voice. He saved me the trouble of having to step in and end the awkwardness myself. I turn around with a what I hope is a casual and friendly and totally not distressed smile. Behind Chris stand Ashley and Mike. “Need any help?“

“Yeah, you guys could come in handy.“ I tell them, waving them over almost desperately, “Ok, one of you help me with the rest of the things in the box. The other two can organize the shit that’s on the counter.“

I duck back down to continue unboxing. There’s bags of dried fruit, tea, the coffee capsules Jess was talking about, some spices which I’m not sure why they’re there but I’m not complaining.

“Heard you needed help.“ Oh for fuck’s sake, Mike again. Why couldn’t it be Chris or Ashley, or Satan for that matter. I’m really not in the mood to be cleaning blood off the kitchen floor tiles.

I tilt my head to the side and it’s only then that I realize how close he is to me. My eyes immediately travel to where I left the box cutter. “Back it up, Michael, or....“ FUCK IT’S NOT THERE. I swear I left it there! Where the fuck is it?!

“Or what?“ He reads my confusion and holds up his hand that is holding the box cutter I’m searching for. I’m afraid the more time we spend under the same roof the more experience he’ll have in defending himself and disarming me.

“Motherfucker...“ I growl and grab the tea and coffee capsules and stand up, “It’s a pandemic, damn it. Six feet apart at all times, buddy. I wish you’d put a mask over that mug of yours too.“ I narrow my eyes as I look down at him, resisting the desire to kick him.

“Only if you were the mask.“ Oh this fucker...he even has the audacity to stand up and step closer. Why are the four other people not noticing this? Ok yeah, cause they don’t wanna be witnesses to the murder of their old class prez. I got it.

“Six feet apart or six feet under, Munroe. Your call.“ He cockily waves the box cutter, not as a threat but as a remainder that I don’t have a weapon. “Bold of you to assume I need that to kill you.“

“She could always snap your neck.“ Chris pipes in.

“Or poke your eyes out.“ Ash does too.

“Or strangle you.“ Sam adds.

“The latter doesn’t sound so bad...“ He smirks at me, earning himself mortified looks from the peanut gallery.

“I. Hear. FLIRTING.“ Jess’ voice cuts through the tension that has built up in the kitchen. Mike and I turn to the doorway simultaneously as well as every other head in the room.

There is Jess looking like a pissed off cartoon toddler - aka: my escape.

“And I hear the void calling me.“ I catch her off-guard and put the items I was carrying in her arms, “I better go see what it wants from me. Byeeee.“

I all but hightail it out of there. I mean, say what you want about Mike’s shitty personality, or lack of personality all-together, but the fucker’s got sexappeal. Not that I’d ever admit it or fall under its effects.

In the living room I find Hannah and Beth with no traces of Emily or Matt. I feel slightly relieved, to be perfectly honest. Seeing the perfect stress relieving opportunity, I sit down next to Beth on the couch and lie down, placing my head in her lap. “Hi!” I give her a cheeky smile.

“You’re the Devil.“ Beth mutters without giving me as much as a glance. I turn to wave at Hannah and that’s when I see the chess board set up on the coffee table. So that’s what she’s so focused on.

“Oh please, you’ll make me blush.“ I fake a giggle and blow her a kiss while she remains completely unbothered.

“Whatever’s going on over there - I DON’T LIKE IT!“ Josh says menacingly as him, Sam, Chris and Ashley enter the living room.

“ME NEITHER“ Oh no, that’s Emily’s voice. Her and Matt have just walked into the lodge after another stroll - they have those when they wanna make out in private. Speaking of making out, I don’t see Jess and Mike anywhere, much to my relief - one of them wants to kill me at the moment but they both wanna sleep with me too so you get why it’s a situation I’d like to avoid.

“No jealousy, guys, please. I love you all the same!“ I prep myself up in a half-sitting position to give them an apologetic but seductive look when a pillow whacks me in the face, “What the hell?!“

“I thought you loved me more!“ Beth barks back angrily.

Well, I’m in some serious trouble now. Not only is Beth DEADLY when angry, but she also has two siblings who are more than capable of kicking my ass.

“I do! I really do, Beth, I swear!“ My apologies are put to an end by another hit with a pillow. “You know I do!“ I sit up completely and turn to look at Beth who has turned the opposite direction. “Pwease?” I give her the best puppy-dog eyes I can pull of despite feeling utterly ridiculous.

“So you do have a favorite member after all? And it’s not me? Wow, Y/N.“ Ash glares at me as well, crossing her arms and also turning away from me.

“I SECOND THAT.“ Emily stomps her foot down and storms out of the room

Oh fuck.

“I do too, honestly. I’m really hurt, Y/N.“ Matt the person I can always trust to be on my side has turned his back to me in this time of need.

Oh fuck squared.

“You’re in some deep shit now.“ Hannah laughs almost evilly as she leans back in the armchair she’s sitting in.

“Josh, could you set something on fire again? Preferably me this time.“ I mutter with a monotone voice. I’d like to picture there’s a rain cloud above my head just pouring down on me. And zaps me with lightning every now and then for good measure.

“Nah, that’d be too easy on you.“ This motherfucker....

“Oh so you WANT me to tell a specific someone what you think and say about them when they aren’t around?“ I change the meaning of ‘death glare‘ with this look I give him. I’m sure that if I keep staring at him like this long enough I’ll burn holes into his skull.

After a few moments of still silence and intense glaring he finally breaks, “Alright fine, I’ll get the deodorant and lighter.“

I sigh in relief. I suppose there are worse ways to leave this world...

“No!“

“Don’t you dare!“

“No way!“

Beth, Ashley and Matt all jump up as soon as Josh gives any effort to stand up.

“Washington, I swear to God!“ There go Emily and Jess in sync again as they both enter the room armed. Jess is only in her underwear but we don’t talk about that. What’s important is that she’s carrying the box cutter from before while Emily is armed with a dull butter knife. Knowing how determined she can be, I wouldn’t underestimate her power due to the lack of sharpness to her weapon.

Josh is rightfully stunned by the sudden turn of events and sits his ass back down with hands raised in the air. I almost feel bad for him. Almost.

“Y’all love me!“ I smile at them, putting a hand over my heart.

Jess turns to me in a split-second, angry as fuck, and points the box cutter at me. “Y/N, I swear to God-”

“Alright, alright, alright...“ I too raise my hands in surrender.

This is how shit goes down over here. Just pure fucking CHAOS, a lot of drinking, flirting and sex jokes. And so much wondering how we’re all friends.

98 notes · View notes

tsipasce · 4 years

Text

Same Difference, ch.02

A/N: “Overwhore has now entered the chat”

Chapters: 01 | 03 | 04

After her last appointment, Nanami made her way back home, trying her best not to replay her feeble attempt at playing hero in her head. “Why the hell did I do that? A real hero would have seen it and helped him… Eventually” she said aloud talking to herself on the drive home. After how serious things got today, putting on music just didn’t seem right. “Besides, he looked like he had a quirk that could’ve helped him” But he also looked afraid her own thoughts cutting her off. No matter how reckless it was to use her quirk in front of someone else—much less a stranger—Nanami knew deep down it was the right thing to do. Whatever consequences came with it, she’d be able to accept them if it meant saving a life. How noble~… and also really, really reckless. Shaking off the last sting of self-chastisement, she reminded herself that tonight was for relaxing. Whether or not some pointy haired guy blabs about one of my biggest secrets, the relaxation train is still going to pull into the station, right on schedule.

Cruising up to her apartment complex, she gazed longingly at her place, her sanctuary. There was a bath bomb and a glass of wine with her name on it. After a long soak and a glass or two, she slid into bed trying her best to forget about anything that might kill the very carefully cultivated vibes.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next day Nanami awoke refreshed, her skin glowing from all the pampering and soaking the night before. She had grand plans of being productive and running some light errands, but she was damned if she wasn’t going to look good while doing it. She’d usually dress as comfortably as possible for simple errands, but she was feeling cute and self-indulgent, so why not dress the part? After having to cover up so many cute outfits with my white coat, I deserve it. She thought, resolutely.

After rummaging through the closet for a bit, she found the look: a soft baby blue dress with a sweetheart neckline and subtle ruffles at the hem and sleeves. She grabbed her small white bag and sneakers then did a quick sashay in the mirror for good measure. It was wild to think she looked this cute and carefree, even after the panic caused by yesterday’s little incide—nope. No. We’re not thinking about that, today is going to be fun, damnit. she convinced herself.

With that settled, she headed out the door and walked to her favorite neighborhood tea shop for a quick drink. The weather was somehow better than it was yesterday, and the perfect breeze wicked just the right amount of heat off her sun-kissed skin… but something just didn’t feel right. It felt as though someone was watching her. No, that can’t be right. I’m just still shaken up from yesterday. Stop being so paranoid and just enjoy the day. Fun and Carefree, remember?

Brushing off it off, she went about her day, but the feeling of eyes on her never seemed to go away. At the post office, it felt like someone was just in the background, sneaking around in her blind spot. In the grocery store, it felt as if someone was just on the other aisle, peering through the boxes. And on the platform for the train, she was convinced someone was going to emerge from the crowd and make a B-line towards her –she had had enough. Maybe I just need to take a moment and sit down to relax. If someone is tailing me, I’ll at least get a chance to spot them if I stay in one place, she concluded.

With that decided, it was high-time for a coffee break and a much-needed pick-me-up. Considering she barely got to sip her order from yesterday before it was unceremoniously spilled while saving that stranger, she decided to give the cafe Dr. Tanaka recommended another go. She ordered her drink and treat, choosing a table by the window. She decompressed, relishing in the moment, as she found herself sitting alone in a cute, little coffee shop, cracking open a book while she waited for her order. After a couple minutes she could feel someone approaching. Assuming it to be the barista, she didn’t look up until they were close, too close.

Her order was slid in front of her, and it’s wrong, but it’s also the exact same order she spilt yesterday. She lifted her gaze in confusion and--Oh no.

It was him, the same stranger from yesterday. Damnit. What’s he doing here?

Before she got the chance to ask, he began, “Hello, miss.”

She panicked and defaulted to the ol’ play dumb routine, “Hello sir, do I know you?” she asked innocently.

His expression didn’t waver and she could tell he wasn’t buying it, but he continued anyway, “Of course, you do.” He smiled knowingly, “Remember? A rather large steel beam was about to crush me yesterday but you swooped in and turned it int—”

“Sh. Sh. Sh. Please. Stop talking,” she raised her hands pleadingly as she took a cautious look around, hoping no one was eavesdropping on the exchange.

His smile faded, but his face remained soft, “I wanted to thank you for your…impressive reflexes yesterday. You saved me.”

“Look, I understand if you might want to thank me, but it’s really not necessary. I’m not a hero by any means, so I’d just like to put this behind us, okay?”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he replied resolutely. “Could you please come with me for a moment? I have someone who would like to speak with you about what happened yesterday.”

“Well, I definitely don’t want to speak with them. And what do you mean you can’t?” exasperated, she continued “If you really want to thank me, you’ll leave this alone and refrain from creepily asking me to go anywhere with a total stranger.”

He was slowly becoming irritated now, and she wondered why he was so determined to continue this interaction. “It is because I am grateful that I am only ‘creepily asking’.”

“’Only’? Is that a threat?” She asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he replied matter-of-factly. The nerve of this guy.

“Yeah. Hell no. I’m not going anywhere with you, and this conversation is over,” Nanami began packing up her things in a huff, preparing to storm out.” Follow me and you’ll regret it,” she threatened, though it was half-empty. She didn’t have much in the way of combat skills, but there was no need to let him know that.

As she got up to leave, he firmly grabbed hold of her wrist. Before she could protest, she was caught off-guard by the sincere look of concern in his eye as he pled with her:

“Please.”

Is he…worried?

She ignored the thought and snatched her wrist back, “Like I said, don’t follow me.”

She made a swift, stormy exit praying he didn’t decide to call her bluff and pursue the interaction any further. What the hell was his deal? This is really not my day... Her stomach grumbled and she lamented the lost treats for the second time this week. She got so lost in thought that she strolled right past the blacked-out car parked in front of the café. Before she knew it, the door flew open and she was pulled in, bumping her head as the door slammed behind her.

“What the hell?” she asked to no one in particular, trying to get her bearings.

Her eyes began to focus on what looked like.. a beak? No, a plague mask, then piercing yellow eyes—wonderful eyelashes though. The man sitting before her seemed to be studying her quite intently before he spoke.

“Who are you?” He asks with equal measures of malice and curiosity.

“Who am I? You abducted me! Who the fuck are you ??” She returned the question incredulously. There were way too many men who were way too comfortable manhandling her today, and it was starting to piss her off.

He didn’t seem to appreciate her response as his eyes hardened further and his eyebrow twitched as though he was barely containing a fit of rage. He leaned forward, now tugging upward at the hem of his glove, “I won’t ask again. Who are you?”

Taking full stock of her situation, she realized three things: One, she’d just been kidnapped (though the car hadn’t moved yet). Two, she was on the floor of said car, and seemingly at the mercy of her kidnapper who by now she guessed was going to use his quirk on her if she didn’t answer his questions. And three, she was mad as hell and not going down without a fight. Knowing this, her mouth moved before her brain could intervene:

“Fuck. You.” she replied, her words full of venom, “I don’t have to answer to some—” before she could finish her sentence, he swiftly removed his gloves and grabbed her by both arms roughly. She prepared for the worst as all the muscles in her body tensed, bracing for impact and she felt…nothing. I don’t feel a thing.

Judging by the look on his face, she could tell he was focused and obviously trying to do something, but nothing was happening. A look of genuine confusion settled on what she could see of his face and she could tell that whatever he meant to do hadn’t worked out. At all. Taking it as her only chance for escape, she raised herself up and towards him, now in between his legs on the backseat of the car. Running on pure adrenaline, she deftly slid her hands under his jacket and placed them on his waist. He’s much more muscular than I thought the thought came and she immediately rolled her eyes at herself. Gross. Stay focused, she chastised herself. She easily found the spot she was looking for and used a technique she had honed as a young girl upon first discovering her quirk. If anything could get her out of this situation and out of his grasp, it was this.

She took a deep breath and focused: Reverb. His eyes shot wide open for a moment and she knew it had worked. Now to wait for the…

“AHAHAHAHHAHAAAHAHAHA” He began to cry out, laughing uncontrollably.

There it is. She thought triumphantly. She gave it a cool name like “Reverb”, but it was really quite a simple and relatively harmless “attack”. Right now, the nerve fibers around his abdominals were rapidly being broken down and rebuilt, causing them to fire and contract in waves. In laymen terms: her bird-mouthed abductor was now experiencing the most thorough tickling known to man.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?” He managed to yell out between fits of laughter.

The driver began rolling down the partition, confusion evident in his voice,

“Overhaul? What’s happening back there?”

Knowing she only had another 30 seconds or so until the effects wore off, she slipped away. After frantically disassembling the locked car door and reassembling it into a solid block of metal and plastic, she bolted down the street and out of sight. She was tempted to look back, but upon hearing the cackling mixed with “I’LL KILL YOU FOR THIS” she found the resolve to stay focused and keep going for the next couple blocks.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She made it back to her apartment and slammed the door behind her, slumping to the floor.

What in the hot hell just happened back there?? She thought frantically, realizing the adrenaline was wearing off and she would soon have to face the reality of the situation: She was almost kidnapped.

Not only that, but she was almost positive it was because of the guy she saved yesterday.

Why was he trespassing like that on a construction site anyway? Who or what is “Overhaul”? What was he trying to do to me back there?

Her mind was racing a mile a minute, but she knew she needed to calm down and get it together. After a couple, solid “woosahs”, she formulated a plan: Call the cops and report this immediately like a normal, law-abiding citizen.

Except now I’m not law-abiding anymore after “illegally performing an act of heroism”. What if it all gets traced back to me? They’ll discover my quirk and… No. I can’t risk them knowing…

She knew she couldn’t report it, but at the very least she could phone a friend. She needed to get this off of her chest and alert them. If she weren’t lucky enough to escape the next time, at least they’d know where to start looking. She let out a long sigh and reached for her bag but came up empty.

Shit. I left it in his car

#overhaul #overhaul fanfic #overhaul x oc #bnha fanfic #mha oc #mha fanfic #mha #oc #fanfiction #chisaki kai #kai chisaki

17 notes · View notes

overthinkingkdrama · 4 years

Note

Hi! So, I’ve just recently gotten into K-Dramas, and... I have a small issue, and that is though I LOVE them in the beginning, by the end they always disappoint me? Like, they start lighthearted and fun, and then by the end suddenly everyone’s in mortal peril, and I don’t care? Or they start all fantasy, and then it’s all about the romance in the end? So... Could you possibly recommend me ones that are good, or tone consistent, throughout? Please?

Hi! Thanks for dropping by for recs. These are some of my favorite asks. I just love going back through my watch list and finding dramas that fit a given criteria. It gets more fun the more dramas I've seen.

The thing about Kdramas that makes them a uniquely sticky beast is that many of them are live-shot week to week, at least for part of their run, and often the scripts are not fully written before filming begins. Popular Kdramas will also occasionally receive extensions which can cause further pacing and plot issues and (sometimes) cause a story to sputter out entirely. With the increasing prevalence of entirely preproduced dramas there's been an increase in overall drama quality and consistency in past years. That being said, Kdramas are still a decidedly mixed bag in terms of overall production quality. So it pays to either drop things with extreme prejudice if you stop enjoying them and watch widely, or to have a good drama filter friend (like me!) to give you vetted recs. As a genre a lot of the more "classic" feeling dramas have a tendency to start really light hearted and then swing super dramatic in the latter half. That's something I occasionally like, but lucky for you not all dramas are like that!

Your ask doesn't really tell me what genre of Kdrama most appeals to you, so I went through my list and tried to find you wide a variety of dramas that I think of as being well-paced and tonally consistent throughout. I've also tried to limit myself to dramas that I rated highly on MDL, although my primary criteria was "good and tonally consistent" so this list of dramas is kinda all over the map. But then, so are my tastes. Also, I kinda got the impression from your ask that you're not a fan of the uber-melodramatic side of kdramas and you want something a little more restrained and less soapy, so I tried to steer away from those more makjang dramas but did not entirely succeed, lol. I gave a couple sentences of description so you can more readily narrow down what you're interested in, and if you would like a more thorough review of the dramas some of these have full reviews on my blog which I went ahead linked where they exist.

Age of Youth: A well written slice-of-life ensemble drama about a group of 5 college age women who end up boarding together. There are a couple moments of high drama/trauma toward the end of the show that might be a turn off. But other than the finale the tone is consistent. 9/10

Arang and the Magistrate: A dark fantasy fusion sageuk with a romance. I included this drama because it does a good job of developing the creepy worldbuilding and fantasy throughout. Though at points it can be a bit slow and the special effects are hella cheesy. 8/10

Argon: A tight, journalism driven suspense drama. Not always my genre but I found it very engaging, and at eight episodes it does not overstay its welcome. 8/10

Be Melodramatic: Another female-centric slice-of-life ensemble drama, though with an emphasis on fourth wall breaking comedy and clever dialogue. Very funny and heartfelt. 8.5/10

Cheese in the Trap: Maybe a controversial inclusion, but I very much enjoyed this drama. A slice-of-life college romance with psychological thriller elements. Some critics felt that the drama focused too heavily on the second male lead in the later half of the story, but YMMV. 8.5/10

Coffee Prince: Classic cross-dressing romance and still probably the best of its kind. A wonderfully nuanced and progressive handling of the subject matter, even after 13 years. Deals with serious subjects but doesn't go too melo with it. 8.5/10

Children of Nobody: My best of 2019, a dark psychological thriller about a child psychiatrist and a police detective who have to confront gray morality while attempting to track down a serial killer who only targets unrepentant child abusers. 9.5/10

Ex-Girlfriend Club: On the lighter side, a friends-to-lovers type romantic comedy about the writer of an autobiographical webtoon who has to figure out a way to get along with a group of his ex-girlfriends to make a movie based on his work. Only 12 episodes. 8.5/10

Go Back Couple: Also only 12 episodes (these shorter dramas tend to be better paced I find) a time-slip drama about a divorced couple who get the chance to relive their twenties and end up realizing they still have feelings for each other. This drama is both very funny and it had me bawling on multiple occasions. 9.5/10

Healer: A favorite of a lot of drama fans, this is an action-focused romance about an awkward soft boy with a secret identity as a highly skilled errand boy to criminals and an intrepid tabloid reporter who is his biggest fan. This drama is pretty tropey, but it's fun and the romance is great. 8.5/10

Hello Monster (aka I Remember You): A police procedural with a background love line about a criminal profiler looking for his lost brother and a detective looking for her father's murderer. One of my personal favorites. 10/10

Hit the Top (aka The Best Hit): A time-slip fish-out-of-water comedy about a 90s pop star who winds up in modern day Seoul and ends up befriending his biological son and meets old friends who his disappearance left in the lurch. 9/10

Incomplete Life (aka Misaeng): A realistic office drama that gave me real world work anxiety, focusing on a failed Go player who winds up an intern at a highly competitive shipping company and has to find a way to earn his keep even without the background and college education of his coworkers. Unbelievably well done ensemble drama. 9/10

Just Between Lovers: A romantic melodrama about two people whose lives were irrevocably changed by a tragic mall collapse that nearly killed them as children, meeting again as adults and finding comfort and healing in each other. A rough sit at times, but a wonderful love story with incredible acting. 9/10

Just Dance: High school, slice-of-life, drama about a dance club in a technical high school and a group of working class kids who reluctantly become involved in this club and befriend each other. Only 8 episodes (or 16 thirty minute episodes, depending on how you recon it.) 8.5/10

Life on Mars: Remake of the British show of the same name, this is a surreal time-slip police drama, about a forensics expert who gets shot in the head and wakes up in 1988. Or does he? He could also be dying on an operating table. It's hard to tell. Dark, suspenseful and trippy. 9/10

Matrimonial Chaos: An off-beat comedy about two dysfunctional couples who become inescapably mixed up in each others lives. One that's having a hard time getting divorced and another that's having a hard time getting married, and all the messy weird emotions that go along with that. This is another one of those, makes you laugh/makes you cry throughout dramas I have an affinity for. 9/10

Moment of Eighteen: A heartfelt high school drama about a straightforward but awkward loner who is forced to transfer to a new school, immediately earns the ire of a powerful student and experiences first love. Not my usual thing, but very well written with complex and likeable characters. 8/10

Mother: A cold and socially isolated woman becomes a temporary teacher and upon discovering one of her students is being severely abused and neglected, decides to pose as the child's mother and go on the run with her. Like Children of Nobody, this can be a bit of a rough watch because of the subject matter but it is very well done. 9.5/10

My Mister: A healing, human drama about a structural engineer in his 40s and a debt-ridden young woman in her 20s who end up crossing paths and saving each other from a miserable existence. My current all time favorite drama. Cannot say enough good things about it. Practically perfect in every way. 10/10

One Spring Night: A very restrained and naturalistic slow-burn romance about a woman who is about to get married and suddenly begins to question her relationship and a single father who had given up on love who find themselves irresistibly drawn to one another. 9/10

Prison Playbook: An ensemble slice-of-life drama centered on prisoners and correctional officers in their day to day lives. I find the actual het romances in this drama totally useless, but it's a large and talented cast playing a variety of lovable characters. 8/10

Psychopath Diary: Recent fave. A screwball black comedy about a mild mannered pushover who loses his memory and finds a diary that convinces him he's a psychopathic murderer, which gives him a huge boost of confidence from his new found identity, much to the chagrin of those around him and the actual owner of the diary himself. 8.5/10

Queen In Hyun's Man: A drama about a Joseon scholar who time travels to modern day Seoul and meets an actress who just landed a part playing the queen he served in the past. This one might be on the border line of too dramatic or tonally inconsistent, but it's got one of the most pitch perfect finales in Kdramas and the 45 min episodes keep it a snappy watch that doesn't drag or meander too much. 8/10

Reply 1988: A late 80s nostalgia drama about a group of families who all live off the same alley. Lovely family drama, comedy with a variety of romances. Long ass episodes especially later in the run, but I have rewatched the whole thing and I loved every minute of this show. 9.5/10

Save Me: A dark drama about a young woman who finds herself forced into a dangerous cult by her family, and is desperate to escape, and a group of 4 local young men who try to help her. One of the more unique and well done OCN thrillers. 9/10

School 2013: High school ensemble drama that launched a whole bunch of careers. In general I avoid school dramas (I know there have been three on this list so far, but those are like the only three, lol) but this show got me so invested in all these students and teachers. Also the two male leads are so shippable. 9.5/10

Secret Love Affair: A romantic melodrama about a piano prodigy from an underprivileged background who catches the eye of a married older woman and the two fall into a passionate affair. This drama involves cheating (obviously) but it's beautifully filmed and written and the music is to die for. 9.5/10

Signal: This is a supernatural crime thriller and a perennial favorite in the Kdrama community. An imbittered criminal profiler finds an antique police radio which allows him to speak with a police detective 15 years in the past, and uses this to crack cold cases and try to prevent brutal crimes from ever happening. 9/10

Six Flying Dragons: This one is a bit different from the others on the list, first of all because it's a more traditional historical drama, and secondly because it 50 episodes long. But it is so, so very good. And if you're looking for overall consistency in terms of storytelling and tone this drama has it in spades. 9/10

SKY Castle: A unique melodrama about a group of affluent competitive mothers who will go to any lengths to get they're children into the best medical schools, and a mysterious school coordinator with shady motives who gets brought in as a ringer to give them an edge. This show is kind of hard to sell but very entertaining and watchable. 7.5/10

Stranger (aka Secret Forest): The story of a stalwart prosecutor who, due to a childhood trauma is unable to feel the full spectrum of emotions, works with a bighearted police detective to root out corruption around a series of murders. This one’s rather cerebral and requires your full attention but the leads are amazing and there's a second season coming out this year I'm very much looking forward to! 9/10

The Nokdu Flower: Another sageuk drama about the latter years of the Joseon Dynasty surrounding three people who fall on different sides during the Donghak Peasant rebellion. Incredibly well written and involving historical drama. If you're not sure you're ready to commit to something like Six Flying Dragons, I think this would be another good entry point into the genre. The acting is amazing. 9/10

The Smile Has Left Your Eyes: A romantic melodrama and psychological thriller about a dangerous enigmatic young man on the cusp of becoming either a human being or a monster. He becomes involved in a fraught relationship with the sister of a police detective at the same time her protective older brother begins to focus on him as the prime suspect for a murder. High key moody and tragic if you're into that kind of thing (I am). 9/10

Touch Your Heart: On the complete other end of the drama spectrum, this show is pure unadulterated fluff, which managed to keep me giggling and swooning throughout the run, even though it's typically not my thing. An actress joins a law office as research for a role and falls for the ace attorney she's assisting. 8.5/10

WATCHER: Another OCN thriller about three different people with shady motivations who are connected to the same murder case and become involve in a corruption task force looking into dirty cops. One of those "trust nobody, everyone's a suspect" dramas with lovely complex characters and a fully engaging plot. 8.5/10

Sorry that got so out of hand! This is what happens when you don't give me a little more direction I guess. These are all dramas I quite enjoyed and I believe you will find something in there that will suit your fancy. This is a pretty accurate cross section of my tastes.

Happy watching!

Jona

#asks #answered #kdrama recs #this got stupid long #i got half way through writing my two sentence plugs and was like #omg why did i put so many dramas on this list #lemme just casually throw together a list of 30+ titles that’s what you want right #like wtf #oh well #hope you find something you like anon #i have no idea why i’m this way either

77 notes · View notes