#the novel said: we can make it worse

[justanotherfanfolks]

Detective Time! Book 2 keeping the ball rolling with mystery, lore, Grilled Cheeseburglers, and wild Malleus appearances.

[vulpinesaint]

it's me and all the women in literature described in despondent unhappiness in a marriage that they don't hate but don't enjoy as they should and who feel as if they're not the way a woman should be and who yearn to be free of their husband and children not because they despise them but because they're not for a husband and children and who can't say that they're miserable but who feel a numb kind of despair in all that disconnectedness and disconnectedness and disconnectedness. they are just like me for real

[asgardian--angels]

Now that I've ranted on the phone to my fam a bit, I'll just say this. I call utter bullshit here. I refuse to believe no other streamer wanted to make a deal - David implied as much when he said there were many complimentary meetings. This was Zaslav refusing to sell for anything but an insane price tag just like Coyote vs Acme. He knows it would be a hit anywhere else that was willing to fund and market it. And he'd rather sink our ship and take himself down with it than let it flourish and make his company look bad (as if it can look worse at this point).

So you know what? Fuck all this. This is the hill I'll die on. David may have waved the white flag but I won't. We were prepared for a marathon, not a sprint, and two months is not nearly enough for me to throw in the towel. I want to see WBD implode. I won't rest until we get something, anything - a movie, a graphic novel, a Samba's cell phone basement version of s3, I don't care. If streaming is dying, let us put that final nail in its coffin for what it did to us and so many others who have asked for so little and been spat at.

Make some fucking noise about this. It's not over until we say it's over. I love and respect David dearly, but I have a lot of fight left in me.

[unequivocallyreid]

Stay With Me Till Morning

hi guys! another fic for you :) i got a little carried away at the end, but you know how it goes. this is for any munch!spencer fans 🤗

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary:

Spencer and you are co-workers, strictly co-workers, despite your feelings for him. A few nights sharing a room won’t change that, right?

warnings: mentions of body-specific insecurity, fluff, smut, oral sex (fem receiving)

wc: 3.2k

if i missed anything let me know!

One of the worst things about being a newbie, at any job, is coming into a place where connections have already been made. Working at the FBI, more specifically the BAU, was no different.

Now don’t get the wrong idea, working there was a dream for you, but there was no doubt that you were severely lacking in personal relationships compared to others. Derek and Reid had a sort of brotherly bond, JJ and Emily’s like sisters, and Hotch and Rossi’s went unspoken but still glaringly obvious. You existed in their orbit, and while you had all grown to love each other, you still felt a bit like an outsider sometimes.

Unfortunately for you, this feeling intensified whenever the topic of room sharing came up. Sure there were benefits, like having a room to yourself on occasion, but usually it just served to worsen your imposter syndrome.

The case that you were working currently, sans Rossi (he was on a book tour following his latest release), pushed this feeling to surface even more.

You all were in Upstate New York investigating a series of homicides that seemed to mimic a string of murders that had occurred 20 years ago. The town you were in was on the smaller side, so the only place you could find accommodations was a small bed and breakfast.

Said BnB did not have enough rooms available for anyone to ride solo, and with Rossi gone, Hotch and Morgan were buddied up, leaving Emily and JJ and Reid and you. Naturally, Emily and JJ bunked up together, leaving you to share a room with the boy wonder.

It’s not that you didn’t like Reid, quite the opposite actually, you liked him too much. You’ve always had a propensity for falling incredibly deeply incredibly fast, and when you met Spencer for the first time you proved you reputation correct.

Your first impression probably put him off slightly, but he was gracious enough not to show it. When Hotch introduced you, the first thing you thought was how ridiculous attractive the man in front of you was. His high cheekbones and big, brown eyes drew you in immediately. To make matters worse, he was fucking adorable. After snapping back to reality, you offered Spencer your hand, which he declined citing the pathogens and it being safer to kiss.

In one of your more impressive displays of cluelessness you said, “I think we could make that happen.”

This caused Spencer to flush and a ghost of a smile to grace Hotch’s face. Thankfully, in the last few months you had redeemed yourself slightly, developed a rapport with the doctor, and stood by hopelessly as you crush developed into a nasty little monster.

So, no sharing a room with Spencer wasn’t really an issue, but still, might just be the thing that breaks you.

~

“There’s only one fucking bed?”

You’d spoke far too soon.

After assuring Spencer you were completely fine and not at all uncomfortable with sharing a room with him, you and him walked together to your room, only to find a scene straight out of a shitty romance novel.

When Spencer heard you and noticed that there was in fact, only one bed, he immediately said, “I can sleep on the couch.”

Maybe you should’ve just agreed and saved yourself from a week of sexual frustration, but you couldn’t.

“Spence, that couch is maybe five feet long. I don’t even think I could sleep on it.”

You looked at him then to muster up some courage, “We can share the bed. We’re both adults.”

He looked slightly pained, which panicked you a bit. God, how fucking embarrassing.

“Or I can take the couch. I wont let you, but if you’re uncomfortable I can. I’m a bit shorter.”

Spencer hurried to speak, “No!”

His outburst took you by surprise but he quickly went on.

“I mean, no. I’m not uncomfortable. I just don’t want you to be at all or feel like I’m forcing you to sleep with me. Fuck, or I mean next to me-“

You cut him off before he could fall into a tailspin.

“We’ll share then.”

~

Sharing the bed had actually not been that bad for you at first. You were on your third day in New York, and you were making steady progress on the case. Hopefully, it would be wrapped up in a day or two.

Aside from the fact that you barely spent any time in the room, you had managed to stay on your side bed. The only spot of trouble was the dreams you were having, dreams about the person next to you that would turn even the worst sinner’s cheeks red. Still, Reid was acting no different, so at least you were confident you weren’t talking, or, god-forbid, moaning, in your sleep.

It had been an incredibly hard day. Not only was it freezing, but you had been outside and away from temperature controlled environments for far too long. Immediately once you got back to the Inn you were staying at, you asked Spencer if he’d mind you taking the shower first.

“I’m freezing my ass of right now. You don’t mind do you?”

“No, of course not. You know it’s kind of a superstition, but there’s some actual evidence that being cold can make you sick. I just read a study which showed 10% of people exposed to-“

You cut him off before he could finish.

“Spence, I’d love to hear about all that, but please just wait till I’m out of the shower.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course. Sorry.”

You shook off his apology as it wasn’t needed. That was one thing you didn’t get about the rest of the team; you loved hearing all the little tid bits of information that Reid let out. Yeah, he was like a literal encyclopedia at times, but it was never annoying. If anything it made you like him more. You loved the way he lit up when he told you about something he’d just read about, or read about 15 years ago. It was cute.

Getting into the shower was like a blessing. The water rolled over your cold skin and helped to loosen the muscles you’d been stressing all day. If you were bolder, or clueless to Spencer’s aversion to touch, you’d ask him to give you a shoulder rub. Your mind wondered off to where else he might touch you, but that was just wishful thinking.

After spending a near gratuitous amount of time in the shower, you shut off the water and reached for a towel. Only once you’d started drying off did you realize in you haste to warm up you’d forgotten to bring your sleep clothes into the bathroom with you. Now, you had to walk out in a tiny, hotel towel right in front of Reid. Sure, it was the start of a few of your fantasies, but in real life the idea seemed mortifying.

As quietly as possible, to not draw attention to yourself, you opened the bathroom door. With one hand gripping the point where the towel connected with itself, you tried to tiptoe unnoticed to your suitcase.

“Y/n?”

You looked up to see Spencer watching your frame like a hawk. As he took in your damp, barely covered figure, you wished to yourself that the lights in the room weren’t so fucking bright.

“I, uh, forgot to bring my clothes in,” and with that, you raced back into the bathroom to change.

After taking a minute to collect yourself, you make your way out of the bathroom again. The room is, thankfully, much darker and you see Reid tucked into his side of the bed. You climb in next to him.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was weird. I, I won’t forget my clothes again.”

“It didn’t, Y/n, don’t worry.”

With that, you both tried your best to fall asleep and put the day behind you.

~

When you wake up, it’s decidedly not light out and you are decidedly not alone on your side of the bed. One of Spencer’s arms is over your waist, holding you against his body. Still, you don’t know why you’ve woken up.

You tend to be a pretty heavy sleeper, and you know that some light spooning wasn’t enough to wake you up. As you lay awake, trying to figure out why you are up and what to do next you feel Spencer move behind you.

Now, you definitely know what woke you. Spencer, who could barely look you in the eye after seeing you in a towel, was grinding into while you slept. Obviously, he was asleep too, but that didn’t stop the shock of it all from hitting you like a fucking bus. He was silent aside from the occasional whimper, which sent shockwaves straight to your core each time he let one slip.

Despite this, again, being the start to a few of your own wet dreams, you were pretty literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. You felt like you’d be taking advantage of Reid if you didn’t wake him, but if you did you know he’d just about die from embarrassment. Or, worse, he’d think that you somehow executed all of this in a sick ploy. Not likely, but still a source of anxiety.

It took you a few minutes to get your head on straight, what with the burning feeling brewing in your abdomen, but eventually you realized that waking him up was pretty much the only thing you could do.

“Spence,” you said while gently shaking his shoulder.

“Spence, love, you gotta wake up.”

You were turned toward him now and saw his eyes open a crack, “Y/n? What’s wrong what’s goin-“

The realization of your situation also hit him like a truck, which was sort of comforting because at least you weren’t alone in the feeling.

“Oh my god, Y/n. Fuck, I’m so sorry. Jesus, I, I can’t- Fuck I’m so sorry.”

He went to spring out of bed, but your hand grabbed his arm before he could.

“Spence, it’s okay I promise. Honestly I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier.”

“No, no it’s not. You don’t even like me that way and I was all over you-“

You cut him off when you heard this, “Spence, what do you mean I don’t like you like that?”

“You heard me right? I said your name?”

The world stops spinning, “What?”

“Oh, oh no. Look, I’m so sorry. I’ll go sleep in one of the cars. Fuck, I’m so-”

“Spencer stop. Please stop apologizing.”

It’s like an old Western showdown for a moment, the two of you staring at each other without making a move.

“Were you dreaming about me?”

He nodded, about to speak and likely offer more apologies. But, before he gets the chance you push your lips to meet his.

The kiss is soft and gentle. At first, his lips don’t move against yours, and you start to pull back, worried you read the situation wrong. Fortunately, before your lips could even part from his, he’s pulled you back in. His hands find the side of your face and his lips pressed into yours with a bruising intensity. Slowly, his hands moved to your waist, holding you in place.

The feeling rushing through you was unlike any you’d ever experienced. His lips molded to yours so perfectly it was almost unbelievable. If you’re hands weren’t so preoccupied by his hair, you’d pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. With a move you didn’t think he’d possibly pull, Spencer bit into your lip, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to press further into the kiss, tracing your tongue with his.

Before you could fall completely into the kiss you pulled away to ask, “Spence, are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since the day we met, Y/n.”

With that, he pulled you back in. His hands moved more surely on you, dipping below your shirt. The feeling of his skin on yours sent shockwaves through your body. You moved to take off his shirt in turn, desperate to feel even more of him. He was relentless, breaking free from your lips to drag his mouth down your neck and over your exposed collar bone.

You felt needier than ever, and evidently so did he. In another move you didn’t expect (maybe you should throw your expectations out the window at this point) he grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap. With you straddling him, he moved to take your shirt off. Insecurity grabbed hold of you before you could push it away.

You stilled his hands in yours, “I haven’t let anyone see me like this in a long time. Just, please don’t be disappointed by what you see.”

His face morphed into one so full of love that it made your teeth ache.

“You’re my dream, Y/n. You’ll never, ever disappoint me.”

You let go of his hands and they resumed their previous journey, pushing up your shirt and letting that part of you be bare to him. Admittedly, you had to fight the urge to cover yourself, but when you saw his face you knew it was pointless. He was ogling you, not offensively, but more like he couldn’t believe you were actually in front of him.

“You’re so, so beautiful.”

His words didn’t erase the thoughts you had, but they certainly made them easier to ignore. Moving up from your waist, he went to cup your breast, fingers playing with your nipple which made your back arch into him. He took the opportunity to flip you over so you were laying underneath him. The weight of his body over you was heavenly. You felt him press himself into your center through his sweatpants. There were just thin layers of clothes between you now.

“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been dying to.”

You’re stunned from words but you manage to nod your head. As he moved down your body, he took your shorts and panties with you, leaving you completely exposed. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel scared of the feeling or his reaction to you. With Spencer, you felt completely at home.

You felt him kiss down your things, teasing you in a way that made you feel completely crazy. His breath ghosted over your core, but he still hadn’t made contact with where you needed him most.

“Spencer, please.”

Hearing your voice must have broken his resolve. He dove in like a man starved. In the past, you hadn’t found yourself enjoying the presence on a man’s head between your legs. Not that you had much experience, but the men who had you in that way always seemed to treat it as a means to an end. One of the two boyfriends you’d had refused to go down on you at all, and the other wouldn’t unless you were completely shaved. Safe to say you didn’t feel like you were missing much.

Everything was different with Spencer. He licked into you there was no place he’d rather be. His tongue over traced over your cunt as he tried to find all the places that drove you wild, and god did he. The noises in the room were obscene, from the moans falling from your lips to the sound of his driving you to an orgasm.

You locked your hands in his hair, grinding into his face without even noticing that you were. You were so close, and you found the final push in his fingers. God, his beautiful fingers.

His mouth was on your clit as he pushed two digits into you, curling in before pulling out, over and over until your legs begin to shake. His unoccupied hand pressed on your lower stomach, building up the feeling until you burst.

You repeated a mantra of his name as you came harder than you can ever remember coming before. The sensation took you out for a minute, but when you came back down and looked down at Spencer, you saw him staring at you in awe and completely soaked.

“Fuck, Y/n. Have you, have you done that before? I think that was the sexist thing I’ve ever seen.”

You were confused for a moment, wondering why he’d think you hadn’t orgasmed before. That was before you felt the damp fabric of the bed beneath you.

“Oh! Oh god, uh, no I haven’t. I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“Don’t apologize for that, Y/n. Fuck, I’d spend the rest of my life between your legs if it meant I could see that again.”

The constat praise falling from him had you noticeably riled up, and you pulled him up, back on top of you.

“Spencer, please. I want you. I want you inside me.”

“Fuck, Y/n.”

He made incredibly quick work of his own pants, freeing himself. Your mouth dropped open as you took him in. He was big, the biggest you’d been with, and he was pretty. You would have drooled if it wasn’t for his lips pressing into yours. He ran his middle finger through your folds before grasping himself. He followed his own path and ran his member through your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect.”

The pet name made you even more desperate, “Please, Spence. Fuck, please.”

He put you out of your misery, sinking into you in one motion. You had to adjust to his size, but the feeling of him inside you, as close to you as possible had you reeling. You bucked your hips up, urging him to move.

He gave you exactly what you wanted, pushing into you at a perfect pace as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

You were overcome and all you could mutter was “thank you, thank you, thank you” in time with each of his thrusts. When he started to push into you harder, you couldn’t help but squeeze down on him.

His hips stalled, “You’re gonna make me come, Y/n. You’re so fucking tight”

You let your hands take down his back, “Please, Spence. Want you to, want to feel you come in me.”

His pace picked up, and you could feel how close he was. Still he wasn’t done. His fingers again found your clit and rubbed circles on it.

“Need to feel you come on me first baby. Need you to come.”

His words made your head spin. It only took a few more thrusts before you were coming again, just as intense as the first time. You pulsed around him and it pushed him over the edge. You felt him come inside you, filling you completely.

“I love you.”

You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, but you froze immediately after saying them, worried that you had ruined everything. But, just as he had done before, Spencer quelled your worries.

“I love you too. God, I love you.”

~

The next morning was bliss. You woke in Spencer’s arms, and let him into you again. The sex was slow and you each let the three words spill uninhibited.

When you went downstairs, ready to finish the case, you were met with the sheepish faces of your team.

Derek spoke first, “I’d say congratulations if you both weren’t so loud last night.”

While you were mortified, watching the rest of the team hold back their chuckles, you couldn’t help but agree that this was all a moment to celebrate.

End

let me know what you think!!

[poetglasses]

In Defense of Jacks in ACFTL

I do have spoilers, so this is your warning not to venture further if you haven't finished reading.

First off, I love how the story was told and how it ended. Could we have gotten more of the other characters? Yes. Did we really need to? Maybe, but I certainly didn't mind the absence. I didn't think we needed to address every character that we've met. We saw Castor and Lala, and I was happy about it, but I was strictly here for Evajacks story, and that's what I got.

I think Eva and Jacks had character development in this novel.

Eva isn't as trusting and hopeful as she was in the previous two books, and I was happy about it! Girl was getting murder attempted on her, and her husband is a narcissistic, manipulative psychopath. The only people she could trust were 1) being kept away from her or 2) avoiding her because they thought they were doing the best thing for her if they did so *cough* jacks

Jacks watched the girl he loved die! He blamed himself for what happened to Eva, and then continued staying away because he felt guilty and thought he was keeping her safe in doing so. He didn't know Apollo took Eva's memories away. He was too busy making sure Castor didn't go within 10 feet of Eva because Castor did attack Jacks after he went back in time to save her! He was still around Eva, he was just hiding in the shadows or out in the balcony peering through the windows. He genuinely thought Apollo was the better choice for Eva because at least Apollo hadn't done anything to her (as far as he knew).

Jacks apologized to her under the phoenix tree, saying that when he went back in time, he thought the stones would have taken something from him, not Eva, or are we all ignoring that because of that beautiful love confession Eva gave? He wanted our girl to live! When Eva met Castor in the Cursed Forest, Jacks literally put a knife through his best friend's chest in fear of having a repeat of the first timeline! Castor wasn't even doing anything, he was just trying to have a conversation with her.

Jacks was the tortured lover we all knew him to be. He wasn't Jacks, Prince of Hearts, with a trail of deadly kisses in search of true love in this novel. He was Jacks of the Hollow, a man who loved his girl so much he wanted her to live instead of dying at his kiss. We all know how badly Eva wanted to kiss him, and we all know Jacks can hear her thoughts. Can we blame him for staying away? He literally said that if she died again, he could not bring her back. The idea of that was terrifying to him. He already used the stones, and going to Honora would have the possibility of turning her into a vampire, maybe worse.

Jacks felt different in this novel because he finally admitted how much he loves Eva. We've seen him do so many things for her throughout the series. Was he holding back in the other two books? I'd argue not really, but he certainly wasn't going to let her be with him. He didn't want to admit he was in love with her. Dude literally held her like a grudge in the first novel, a secret in the second novel, and then a promise in the third. The hints were there for us. He would literally do anything for her. He just didn't want to admit to himself he loved her because if he allowed himself to there was the possibility that she could die.

Does Eva die in this book? No, thank god. But don't act like you read their kiss scene and didn't fucking break a little when Jacks went "No! Not again".

[circeyoru]

Unwanted Soul _ Part 9 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9 (here)

The days when you worked for Lucifer were dull and boring, you saw nothing to gain even though you’re the one doing all the information searching and collecting. You went belong Lucifer’s expectation when you said you’ll infiltrate and plant yourself close to the source so that the information collected was reliable 

Lucifer told you directly that he expected for you to just listen and gather what rumors were around and tell him, or what information was available then you report to Lucifer in a neat pile. Never did he think you’ll go above and beyond, considering your mood and status of wanting to get yourself a second death

Well, you didn’t really mind it all. Back when you were writing your novel, you had a ton of characters, each with different backgrounds and personality. You tried just researching online to get the information, but there wasn’t that feeling when you were writing them. You needed to get the feel of it. So you actually tried out part-time jobs from all over the place to get it

Turns out it worked since even a copy of the novel got such fame and wealth…

Now, you realized you didn’t need to create something for you to know what you have. With your new power, you seem to have something akin to photographic memory to the point you’ll be able to keep what you see and know like a compute file system. Very convenient and steal-proof

Your main target happened to be Vox, the TV Demon and an Overlord that is acquainted and in alliance with another two Overlords Velvette and Valentino. Lucifer requires newer information of the modern Overlords, so you went to the V Tower to sneak within their ranks

That was before your charm abilities from your pages developed to what you have today, so Lucifer gave you an entirely new look and some common powers so you didn’t make an impression on Vox or the other two Overlords

It was through Vox that you learned of Alastor as well. While you never saw him, you heard plenty from Vox to know they weren’t overly fond of the other. Alastor seem to tolerate Vox and didn’t even see Vox as a treat since it was all so childish from on outlooker’s perspective

But what you learned from within was even worse. Vox was controlling, very controlling. He not only hypnotizes the customer and reporters to boost his fame and gain loyalty, he treats his employee the same and than some. His people were treated as slaves, dehumanized, and worse than animals. All for Vox’s entertainment

“Don’t.” You firmly declined, “Let’s just get on with it.”

“Wow, you’re really into all that redemption thing? Goody-two-shoes huh.” Vox smirked condescending, “Can I get your name or?”

You glared, feeling the shadows riled up by the second, you back up away from Vox. “No. This is strictly business. I hope we don’t see each other after this.”

“Hot and feisty. I like that in a demon. Let’s see how you’re at persuasion.” He turned to the lift and gestures for you to follow him. “Well, come on then, representative.”

Throughout the entire time Vox was bringing you to the ‘meeting room’, he had been so annoying with his small talk. There were a few times he tried hypnotizing you already but you acted like nothing happened, it was fun to see him try

You declined any drinks and food he offered, he set them on the coffee table between the two couches you two were sitting on. This setting was quite perfect for him to try a more direct hypnotizes, even if you were to accuse him of so, he can say it was a glitch in the system or it’s just his screen acting up

Everything was set to give himself the advantage he needs and wants

As expected the only thing he had against the hotel and Charlie was the fact that his merchandise were all destroyed without his knowledge. Though he even come clean as to why he would be aware of they were gone or not, he lied and said it was to ensure his services were top-notch and that he could send his employees to repair or replace them with new ones

Why he was doing this was to show his appreciation to the epic battle Charlie and the hotel put up. To defend all of Hell and the other sinners even when no one asked, to give everyone hope that there was good in this hellhole. It moved Vox’s metallic heart beyond words

Such flattery. You know information that Vox tried to watch the battle, you panicked when you wonder if Vox saw your powers when you defended and saved Alastor. It doesn’t seem like he knows by the annoyance and degree he went to ensure the hotel was under surveillance. He’s finding that one demon that interrupted his show. He’s looking for you

To compensate, the hotel is to either send someone to work for Vox, of course without a soul contract but a business deal only, or give them Angel. What it means was that Angel was to stay at the V Tower for as long as it take for him to individually produce all the cost of the materials used to make the devices Vox installed in the hotel

It was basically a contract that would ensure that Angel doesn’t get redeemed, stays under the Vees’ or rather Valentino’s hold, and continues to bring profit or even more to the three Overlords. You heard that Angel’s boss was Valentino, you also heard about the little stunt Angel did to his boss outside of the studio. Valentino sworn revenge. This was it

When you weren’t agreeing immediately, you were in for a shock when Valentino and Angel appeared through the doors. They took a seat in the couch between yours and Vox’s, Angel forcefully gapped between Vox and Valentino so that if anything happened, they’d have a hostage. Because unlike them, the hotel and its people are oh so very kind

“Angel here volunteers to work on top of our contract on this little mishap.” Valentino grinned, playing with his pipe as he released a puff of red smoke. “Angel came all on his own too.”

“Then why isn’t he speaking on his own?” You challenged, it’d take a blind person to ignore the nervousness and uneasiness Angel was displaying. From what you observed, Angel truly likes it at the hotel. He wouldn’t willingly leave it and everyone. “Why are you speaking in his place?”

Vox raised a hand, answering as if it was all rehearsed. “Val is Angel’s boss, so it only makes sense he speaks on Angel’s behalf on something so important.”

Your eyes narrowed, “You got it backwards. On matters as important as this, the one directly involved should be the one talking.” You glared at Valentino, “Not to be spoken on behalf by.”

Vox laughed, “You forget. You’re at our mercy now, we don’t need to care for your wants.” He got up and strolled over to you, “You know, you’re quite talented. We could use someone like you here. If you agree to take Angel’s place, then Angel can go free from this deal. I’m sure with your talent, you can make up that number in no time.”

“That wasn’t what you offered.” You hissed, you could feel Alastor growing rage as well. 

“Oh, need more incentive?” Vox smirked.

The moment he said that, the doors opened and revealed Velvette though it was what was dragged behind that caught you off guard. Husk, all beaten up and bantered, was being pulled into the room by some hellhounds that was in servitude to Velvette, or maybe the Vees. 

Velvette gave a cunning grin, “You called?”

This was obviously a bad situation. Two hostages and three Overlords, one of them were in the worse pairing possible as well. This was all a trap

There was a high possibility that Angel didn’t want to answer Valentino’s calls and was dragged to the V Tower where he’s be powerless. Husk most possibly saw what happened and tried to stop it since you were going to the same place later on

In the end, two were caught and used as leverage to convince you into servitude of Vox. Maybe you shouldn’t have came, but you didn’t want them to get hypnotized again and this was their domain so Vox holds more power here

You’ll admit, you’re cornered. Do you call for Alastor? But Alastor couldn’t care less about Angel or Husk went you were on the line. He’d even agree with the deal Vox offered just because you would be out of harm’s way. You just know Alastor will do that. While he cares for your decision, but when it was your time away from him on the line, he’ll do anything to keep you within his hold

In that case, you’re left with one option

“You want compensation for your broken devices, yeah, I can handle it. But I will not be working here.” You spoke firmly, “The hotel has a 16 floors, each floor has around 10 rooms, each room has a VoxTech TV and a pair of speakers that were installed, in total that’s 160 TVs and 320 speakers. The lobby has a large screen made of 6 TVs and 8 pairs of speakers to provide high quality sound transperance, the top floor has a cinema that is made with 10 TVs and 10 pairs of speakers aligning the walls.”

As you were listing, everyone was surprised with how well you knew everything. Especially Angel and Husk since you were rarely out of your room or around. How you knew all this was a mystery to them.

“So in total, you require the compensation of 176 TVs and 356 speakers. I can provide all of them back to you in the newest condition, but I will not be working here.” You concluded.

“Wow, crazy math, but how can we be sure you can give us high quality goods?” Vox questioned, “We can’t trust that you’ll leave us high and dry after we agree. You can even give us cheap knockouts like some copycat off the streets.”

You opened your hand, “Give me something, anything.”

The Vees all looked at each other, then Valentino passed a gun of his to you. They eyed you suspicously while you plainly inspected the object, Angel and Husk watched in confusion of what you were doing

You ignored all the stared. This was your last result. You’ll show them your power and ability with a page, they wouldn’t know how you did it and they wouldn’t be able to control you since you have Alastor’s protection and you could always put Lucifer on the table. They wouldn’t dare touch a servant of the King of Hell

Your fingers brushed through the curves and texture, feeling where the edges were and how they felt. Then you began taking it apart. Vox kept Valentino in place when you began, Vox keeping an extra close eye on what you were doing. You laid out the parts in front of you, then you inspected each part like how you did to the gun as a whole

When you were done, you reassembled it all. You quickly aimed a shot into the wall behind you so they wouldn’t say you attempted assassination to add compensation. You got the gist of what was used to make it and how it was made. You remember the parts and you remember how to assemble and take it apart. The conditions are set. You can do it

You moved away your oversized coat and took out your book, writing the words ‘Valentino’s gun’ on the page before tearing it out and blew on it. Then in your hand appeared the exact same. You gave to Valentino to inspect them

He was surprised his gun was replicated to perfection. He didn’t mean to say it since he was shocked and covered his mouth

That’s all you need to hear. You took Angel and Husk to your side, telling Vox, without giving him the room to deject your offer. You will reproduce those TVs and speakers, Vox just need to wait patiently and you can have it done within a few days. Someone will come delivery them. End of story

“It’s you! Hahahaha! So it’s you all along!” Vox laughed, falling back down into the couch, “You win this! So you’re not bad at persuasion too.” He grinned, “Now I really like you.” 

“Well, I still don’t like you.” You snarled. 

“Playing hard to get, huh.” He waved his hand, “Sure, I’ll wait and see. If it’s not delivered in time, I’ll expect you to work for me.”

As quickly as you came to the bright studio that blinds your eyes, you left with Angel and Husk hand in hand just in case they tried something. The moment you were out of the building, Alastor reappeared and hugged the living daylights out of you, you returned the hug, melting into his hold

It was such a scary experience, but you know you got through it because Alastor was watching and listening all that time to support you

Alastor sent Husk and Angel back through the shadows to retell the message of a smooth negotiation and nothing else. They were to have the cover story of meeting you and Alastor on the way back and to pass the message along while the two of you enjoyed a stroll for the hardwork. Needless to say they agreed easily to that plan

You walked with Alastor arm in arm, leaning against him for a more physical support. You closed your eyes to rest a bit since it was way too bright in the studio and you trust Alastor enough to lead you on the right and safe path

Being the radio host he is, he talked and talked about anything and everything he could to fill the silence and give you the perfect voice to listen to. At the sight of Alastor, a number of demons left the area and stayed clear of him

Everything was very peaceful, just you and him strolling down the streets. It reminded the two of you during those days when you both were in your home area. You’d sometimes want to just stretch your legs and walk around. Alastor would accompany you to keep you safe

In the beginning, it was just you and your music while Alastor was busy with whatever bloody methods to keep the demons’ eyes off of you. Then you and Alastor made small talk so Alastor’s attention wasn’t on destroying some poor demon that was minding their own business. Turns out, that was one of moments that got you to see another side of Alastor

You smiled as you hugged onto Alastor’s arm, you felt Alastor’s miniature jerk before he relaxed again. You really wanted to tickle him, but you’ll save it for when you two are back behind closed doors to have more fun

“You! You in the giant stupid coat! Stop!” A voice shouted behind you and Alastor. 

Alastor looked down to you, you nodded as you opened your eyes again. Alastor turned around, shielding you from the unknown demon’s sight. “What is it that you need from us?”

“I’m not talking to you, f**ker!” The demon exclaimed at Alastor, “Move aside or else.”

“Else?” Alastor’s head tilted to the side with his smile growing to a threatening grin, “Quite bold of you to assume you have a chance here.”

You peeked from behind Alastor, this demon was unfamiliar to you, not someone you messed with nor did you gather information on them for anything in discriminating. You wonder if you should let Alastor have at her since you already dealt with Vox today. But something bugged you with how desperate she was acting, very familiar. So you stepped out, “What is it?”

Her eyes seemingly light up and came over to you, gripping onto your shoulders tightly with that crazed look in her eyes. “You’re the one he wants. It was never me. Whatever he wants with you has nothing to do with me. It was all a lie. The contract, the flattery, the money, everything!”

“Huh?” You glanced over to Alastor with confusion, Alastor didn’t return the sentiment as he looked ready to rip the demon apart. “Uh, what do you mean?”

“I saw your powers over the pages, you’re the one he wants! I don’t know how we have similar powers, but yours is much more superior. Trade places with me, I’m begging! I can’t work for Vox!”

You backed up and slapped away her hands, retreating back to Alastor’s side. “Similar powers?”

You wondered if it was her, that friend of yours. You watched she continued to rant on about the benefits of working for Vox like she prepared to pitch it to a customer. This desperate plead was like her asking (demanding) that you continue writing that novel she stole so she can go publish it in her name

Do it in the name of friendship, she said. It started small, she asked for some tips to writing, it moved to asking for character reference sheets, then ideas on a sequel, last was your help to write the entire thing

She knew you have written it beforehand, she was aiming for that in the beginning. Again, she stole it while you were distracted with setting up a sleepover for her. You remember that empty look you had when you saw the barely closed front door, the pillow you were hugging fell from your grasp

The next week or so, the sequel to her (your) novel was out. Millions and billions of people flooded the bookshops, mass sell out signs for that book was taped to the display for the novel. She came back and praised you for a job well done, you hanged out with you and shared so much with you

All that time, you smiled and enjoyed the peace. Anything to help a friend, you innocently spoke. After all, she was there for you when you broke up with your boyfriend. She was your closest friend, things like these happen. See? She’s back at your side

She appeared on TV, she appeared on podcast, she appeared in interviews, she appeared in best selling author signing sessions, she appeared as a professor to teach young aspiring writers. She was everywhere. That was because the novel was everywhere, it was adatped into movies, TV shows, cartoon series, it has audiobooks and was references in a number of places

People loved your work. You were content with that. It was fine. As long as your friend is by your side. You can take it all. Yet you can’t help it when tears flow down your face in the dead of night. You hugged your pillow so tightly

It was all supposed to be yours, yet it wasn’t… You gave it all up to someone that’s not worthy of it

“See?” She threw a bunch of papers into the air from her side bag, with a snap of her fingers, the pages turned into paper daggers and flew around her at command. “If you can summon things, then you’re a such better fit! Please, come back with me to the V Tower and take my place.”

“Shut up.” You spoke, your hands unconsciously gripped onto Alastor’s wrist tightly that it could have snapped. Reacting to your obvious hatred, Alastor snapped his fingers and fires burn down the pages that she was so proud of. “Ha, I can’t believe you haven’t changed.”

She raised a brow, “What?”

You sighed, “Karolina, so you died, huh. Did you have a good life? Must be good as the famous author, right?”

Kat’s eyes widened, now it was her turn to back up, “No way… You can’t be serious…”

“Dearest, do you know her?” Alastor inquired with a cute head tilt, his ears moving along. 

“Yeah, I know her.” You smiled, you know what will happen after your words because you know Alastor, “Meet Karoline, my former best friend while I was alive, but most importantly… The one that stole my precious writing.”

Note: Another one~ There's one more part to this and the involvement of Kat arc is done. I think I might end this series after that. The unanswered questions could be counted as trivia or extra mini moments. Cause I feel like this series is getting a bit too long. What do you guys think?

Circe Y. 

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @nevermore-ramblings @justboredforreal @youroneandonlysimp @falsemain @scenteddelusion5 @anni1600 @readergirlstuff @salutations-demonsanddappers @mistpurpl3 @haruskrd @biadoll21 @speedycoffeedelight @wendds @paninibit @emperatris-rinaka @lucifers-silhouette @an-idyllic-novelist @cyannese-rose @type-ink

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

Hey! Hope you’re having a good day! Just wanted to say I’ve become obsessed with your psychology analysis on the Vees and VoxVal. I’m curious, since the relationship is definitely toxic, how do you think the cycle of relationship abuse would work with them? (Honeymoon phase, tension, incident, ex)

Awww I'm so glad you like my silly headcanons, I fucking love writing them <3

(headcanons in question because they are relevant to this post: Vox and NPD | Valentino and BPD | random Vees headcanons)

You know, I believe their relationship is toxic because neither of them is particularly well-adjusted. However, I wouldn't apply the cycle of abuse theory to them. As far as I know, that theory is used to describe relationships that are highly unequal with clearly defined roles of abuser and victim. For instance, during the tension phase, tension grows in the abuser while the victim "walks on eggshells," trying their best to calm the abuser and constantly living in fear of an incident. I can't really imagine Vox or Valentino being that frightened of each other. Actually, that's why I think they are meant to be together - they can handle each other.

That being said, I do believe they have some relationship issues. In episode 2, we witnessed Vox calming Valentino (by yelling at him so very toxic) when he was angry. Vox hates Valentino's unpredictability because he is a total control freak. While he finds Valentino's fiery temper extremely alluring, he also wishes Val would tone it down. He'd like to have a more reliable partner, especially because for him, falling in love was a significant and risky investment.

On the flip side, immediately after Vox managed to calm Valentino down, Valentino essentially provoked him into a temper tantrum. Look at this shit-eating smile; he knew damn well what he was doing.

Vox usually keeps his emotions hidden behind a polished facade, staying detached. Valentino, on the other hand, is all about intense emotions—loves passion, violence, and desperation. He digs Vox's cool business daddy vibe, but it drives him nuts when Vox gets all emotionally distant from him. Vox tries to guard himself because he knows Valentino can easily weaponize people's emotions against them, and he's lowkey scared of being vulnerable. So when he's going through some tough shit, Vox puts up this wall, becomes all distant, and then Valentino feels rejected and starts being a total jerk, pushing Vox away because he's hurting (if you've read my BPD Valentino headcanons, you get what I mean).

So those are the main sources of tension in their relationship. Sometimes one of them snaps. In Vox's case, it means complete withdrawal from the relationship and sinking into work (since he wants a perfect relationship, he rarely even admits he's angry, he's just like "It's fine I just don't have time to see you") which obviously drives Val crazy. Because he's obsessively in love. So to fix the situation he doesn't apologize (since Vox "wasn't even angry") - he just invites himself to Vox's apartment/office and seduces him by acting nice and submissive so Vox can feel in control again.

In Valentino's case, snapping means a violent outburst (though, I don't think he's physically abusive because he knows Vox is not afraid of him and could easily bite back or, even worse, leave him for good). These outbursts make Vox furious because he can't stop them. Then, they end up yelling a lot, throwing stuff around, and sometimes even breaking up. After that, Valentino goes on a week-long bender, just partying and hooking up with dozens of people. Vox, being obsessed, watches everything, and his jealousy always gets the best of him. He finally breaks and sends someone to bring Val back home. Or he personally intervenes, kills whoever Val is fucking, gives him a giant bouquet of roses, and goes all out to prove that he's the best guy Val could ever have. Vox is a showman, so he acts almost like a charming and obnoxiously rich mafia boss from a smutty novel, who wants nothing more than to please his princess with grand gestures.

Oh also I think Val is very sensitive about Vox treating him "like a woman." He's actually very secure in his masculinity; he feels comfortable enough to present himself in feminine ways while still acting masculine. Like I mentioned, he's queer and he totally owns it. On the other hand, Vox still grapples with some deeply internalized heteronormative ideas, occasionally treating Valentino like his bitch. Valentino hates it because he's aware of Vox's sexist tendencies, and he refuses to allow Vox to treat him as though he's beneath him. He genuinely believes in the concept of an equal partnership in their relationship and can't stand Vox's attempts to alter the power dynamics in his favor.

If you like this post you may also like my VoxVal fanfiction

[brostateexam]

While public appetite for Covid news is low, experts say the stakes for communicating about respiratory illnesses are deceptively high. An ongoing bird flu outbreak and a small but deadly swine flu outbreak in Colombia this year have public health experts worried that another flu pandemic is all but assured in coming years. As government officials downplayed Covid, flu, and other deadly viruses in recent years—shortening Covid isolation times and lifting restrictions—misinformation about measles, another respiratory illness, has proliferated. A massive measles outbreak is currently roiling Europe, and Florida has now reported multiple cases at a single school. State officials who rose to prominence by opposing Covid measures said the 200 unvaccinated students who had been exposed did not need to quarantine.

Then there is the threat of more novel viruses; dangerous new coronaviruses have emerged every seven to nine years in the past two decades, which means we may be soon see another. In the meantime, Covid is still hospitalizing and killing people even with current guidelines; it could get worse when people are urged to move more freely while contagious.

In theory, we should be better equipped than ever before to counter these threats. “Covid has elevated the amount of access and information and awareness that we have [of] seasonal respiratory viruses,” said Erin Sorrell, senior scholar at the Johns Hopkins Center for Health Security. Covid taught us that these respiratory viruses can be airborne, that asymptomatic people can still infect others, and that the time it takes to stop shedding the virus can vary widely; we also learned what we can do to lessen these challenges.

The CDC has yet to make the proposed changes public—or even confirm the Post’s report. When I contacted the agency for comment on this piece, a spokesperson responded that there are “no updates to COVID guidelines to announce at this time,” and the agency “will continue to make decisions based on the best evidence and science to keep communities healthy and safe.” But the guidelines outlined by the Post’s three sources would run counter to the available research on Covid and other respiratory illnesses—presumably in order to satisfy economic and political interests. The consequences both for contagion and public trust, should the agency follow through on these plans, could be severe.

[dangermousie]

2023 End of Year Post - kdrama edition

Yes, we have a some of December left, and I want to check out Death's Game but whatever. I got time for this now and not sure if I will have later so here goes.

This is only going to cover kdramas that aired in 2023; if I watched it but it was made in a different year, it’s not on the list. This was an excellent kdrama year, the likes of which we hadn't had in a long time.

DRAMAS WATCHED

In order of liking from least to most as opposed to pure quality so pls don't come for me, fans of some popular dramas that are on my nope list. Also, I am including if I’ve seen enough to make up my mind; yes I realize that’s inaccurate, but that’s my list.

33. The Escape of the Seven - this is so aggressively stupid and mean that it feels like the makers are playing a practical joke seeing how much their audience will take. This has a season 2 coming, so the answer is a lot.

32. Behind Your Touch - the FL gets superpowers by touching people's and animals' butts. Yes, you read this right. Do I really need to add anything?

31. King the Land - yes, it was a hit. Yes, it stars popular actors. I HATED IT LIKE IT TOUCHED MY BUTT TO GET SUPERPOWERS!!! Plastic people in paint by the numbers story, with about as much genuineness or retability as a barbie aisle in walmart. I never expect much from Yoona so whatever, but to have LJH go from The Red Sleeve to this boggles the mind.

30. Mrs Durian - this is so dumb that I think I lost a few IQ points watching this, but its insanity becomes entertaining - I mean what kdrama can you name where a daughter in law declares her love and lust for her mother in law at a family dinner?

29. The Matchmakers - there is nothing offensive about this drama at all. But there is nothing in the least interesting either. If elevator music took drama shape, it would be this show.

28. Destined with You - sorry, Rowoon, I am still fond of you, but you are two for two in drama duds department this year. This is a drama where I loved ep 1, liked ep 2, was indifferent to 3 and...you get the point. Each ep was worse than the one before, and I bailed before I was dragged into a cosmic singularity.

27. Oasis - great first two episodes. Unfortunately it was not a two ep show. The performances are solid but the story is just not there - the effect is like a fancy chef making an amazing sauce to put on pig slop.

26. Boyhood - it's not you, it's me in action. I can see why people would like it but a 34-year old playing a high schooler in a Weak Hero Class 1 Slapstick Edition is no go for me.

25. Castaway Diva - it's so precious and kooky in the most annoying ways, with the most well-adjusted abused castaway in history. I like magic realism when done by Jorge Amado, but this ain't Amado.

24. Island - it had a good concept, good cast and fun visuals but the execution deserved one of ML's swords through the neck.

23. The Worst of Evil - if I wanted an American show, I'd watch one. Very solid performances though.

22. Song of the Bandits - period edition of what I said about The Worst of Evil.

21. Welcome to Samdalri - and goodbye to any hope of emotional involvement.

20. Joseon Attorney - I have yet to like a single sageuk centered around a profession and this was not an exception. I guess it could be worse but it also could have been so much better.

19. Twinkling Watermelon - everyone loved this drama. Everyone except for me. It's the kind of precious that sets my teeth on edge and I couldn't stand half the main characters we were supposed to root for. I guess I like my fruits to shine steadily.

18. Our Blooming Youth - probably the biggest disappointment on this list. This is not a bad drama by any means, but with that cast and that story (I loved the novel), I was hoping for a memorable sageuk not merely all right.

17. Vigilante - it has the emotional complexity and nuance of a punch to the throat but it gives us quasi-gay openly-murderous dudes going after psychos and Yoo Ji Tae holding feral Nam Joo Hyuk by his hoodie at his feet.

16. The Forbidden Marriage - expected nothing but it was a surprisingly enjoyable trifle of a costume drama that was also quite pretty.

15. Arthdal Chronicles: Sword of Aramun - a hot mess but such an entertaining epic one. And it gave us TWO Lee Jun Kis in period gear and who am I to cavil at the bounty of God?

14. The Story of Park's Marriage - it's a trifle, a souffle, so light it might blow away, but it keeps my attention and is so fun and sweet.

13. My Lovely Liar - a huge surprise, that manages to mix a murder mystery and a romcom, and shocked me by showing Hwang Minhyun can act.

12. Tale of the Nine Tailed 1938 - the original ToNT was my fave drama of its year and I did not think it needed a sequel. But this is not a sequel but more of a side-quel and is such a total delight with brotherly love, adventures, romance and hijinks. It's a joy.

11. Perfect Marriage Revenge - it's actually very hard to do a soap right but this slim 12 ep drama managed. So fun, so crazy, such a good ship!

10. My Lovely Boxer - not really about sports, but about two broken people finding salvation because of and in each other. Also, if you like age gap romances, this is delicious. Sort of loses steam by the end but c’est la vie.

9. The Secret Romantic Guesthouse - this was a sageuk that was not on my radar with a bunch of actors I was not familiar with but it took my heart away. A good plot that was perfectly paced, characters and ships I adored, a logical ending. This is one of the biggest positive surprises of the year for me.

8. Tell Me That You Love Me - a slice of life remake (sort of, it's more "inspired by") of my favorite jdrama of all time. It's not as good as the jdrama because nothing could be, but it's an aching lovely story with some incredible performances.

7. See You In My 19th Life - funny and romantic and haunting and hopeful and odd. This was one of my favorites of the year.

6. Alchemy of Souls: Light and Shadow - it's rare for me to like a (1) sequel (2) with FL actress change (3) that is a Hong Sisters drama. But this was such a gorgeous, surprisingly achy story of love and loss and love regained with some cool monster fighting in the middle. Between the two seasons, this is the first Hong Sisters' drama I enjoyed from beginning to end in well over a decade.

5. My Demon - so tropey (chaebols, supernaturals) but it proves that these tropes are popular for a reason. The chemistry is fire, the story is unpredictable and the whole thing is an addictive delight. A rare drama where I like each new ep more than the last one.

4. Goryeo Khitan War - an old school sageuk in every meaning of the term (no romance, no eye candy, lots of bearded men, battles and politics), this feels like watching an epic movie more than a drama. The vast cast all earns their place and the performances (mainly from character actors given a chance to shine) are incredible.

3. Call It Love - two very very damaged people finding love and healing with each other. This is a narrative very hard to do to my satisfaction but when it's done well, as here, there are few things that can hold a candle to it.

2. My Dearest - a masterpiece of cinematography, narrative, performances. This is an old-school epic romance in the best sense of the term. If it doesn't make you swoon or break your heart, there is something wrong with you. A story of two untraditional, strong-willed, flawed people who fall in love in the middle of the horrifying Qing invasion of Korea and have to deal with all that the world throws at them, this is a bona fide masterpiece.

1 - Moon in the Day - who knew my favorite kdrama of the year will star a store brand Domyoji from Extraordinary You and an actress I was never familiar with. But this part period/part modern fantasy tale of doomed cursed lovers is everything I knew I wanted and everything I didn't know I wanted but did. Two lovers where their love did not save them and in modern day it might not again, has got me obsessed the way I haven't been in years.

FAVORITE DRAMA

Moon in the Day - if there is such a thing as a drama made perfectly for me, this gorgeous, emotionally haunting, utterly romantic, twisty tale is it.

WORST DRAMA

The Escape of the Seven. This drama is proof that demons exist and not sexy ones like Song Kang but horrible nasty ones who delight in the torment this hot mess inflicted on its viewers.

FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER

Do Ha, Moon in the Day - a Silla general and a consummate killer who committed atrocities on the orders of his monster father and yearned to die for them, who found the meaning in life in loving his enemy but it did not make him better, a man so obsessed he literally was around for 1500 years of horrifying ghostly existence and still went "worth it" for a woman who killed him as long as he knew she loved him while she did it. He's intense and competent and beyond fucked up and has never had a normal day and I love him so so so very much from a safe distance.

FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER

Gil Chae, My Dearest - she starts out as vain and spoiled but the horrors that break so many others bring out all her fierce survivor potential and she becomes such a force of nature - capable of incredible love but also sacrifice and strength and compassion.

Runner Up: Shin Hye Sun's reincarnator in See You In My 19th Life - quirky, damaged, strong, so odd and so vulnerable at once.

NEEDS TO BE MURDERED

There are a lot of characters who fit that category (King Injo in My Dearest? My God) but the crown belongs to So Ri Bu from Moon in the Day. You think you've seen abusive parents but until you've seen a man abuse his son his whole life and then continue for 1500 years after his death, you ain't seen nothing!

FAVORITE SHIP

The doomed by the narrative OTP of Moon in The Day. Only thing that's better than enemies to lovers is enemies while lovers and their impossible relationship where her killing him is a supreme act of love and his refusing to let go is so strong that he stays around for 1500 years watching her, helpless as she dies over and over again, is everything you ever want.

Runner up: Jang Hyun/Gil Chae, My Dearest. They are so strong and so damaged and it takes them so long to figure out what they feel and what the other person feels but their love and sacrifice and complexities are perfect.

FAVORITE SECONDARY OTP

Kim Shi Yeol/Hong Joo, The Secret Romantic Guesthouse - an assassin bodyguard pretending to be a carefree scholar and a widow of the man he killed to protect his king (and whose life was destroyed as a result.) I enjoyed the main OTP of this drama but I was utterly and completely unhinged for the secondary couple.

I'd have probably picked Rang and his mermaid from TotNT 1938 even over them, but they really were the main OTP of that drama.

NOTP

King the Land couple seems like an easy target but honestly, they are both so terribly bland and antiseptic and marketing by committee, they kinda deserve each other. So I am gonna go with Destined with You, one half of which thinks supernaturally roofying someone into loving them is cute and the other half thinks dating one woman while wooing another is totally a-ok. Ugh.

FAVORITE SCENE

There is no competition for the scene in the slave market in My Dearest, where Jang Hyun finds Gil Chae - the way he screams and tries to clutch the hem of her skirt will live in my head forever.

And the scene where he 'wins' that horrifying bet, or the scene where she finds him in a pile of bodies - they are as good also. Or when he fights off a squad to protect her even though he's sick. That whole drama is perfect.

Runner up: the scene of Do Ha executing Ri Ta's family, covered in blood, as she looks at him from the crowd in Moon in the Day.

Or the scene where he talks about how he cannot live as a person but at least maybe she will kill him and he will die as one. Or when her confession in the past intercuts with his walking in the present, or when he comes home in his bloodied armor and she finds he has a fever and it's the first tender touch he's probably ever known. Her murdering So Ri Bu saying she knows she's going against filial piety in loving her parents' murderer, the way they hug, both bloody, as he says "let's live." The way she says she can't go on as she's hit rock bottom and he replies she cannot quit because she must accompany him to his rock bottom now. Honestly, the drama is a font of amazingness.

Also, the opening scene of Goryeo Khitan War or the scene of Yang Gyu ordering to shoot the captives and having to do so himself.

The OTP meeting again at the intersection at the end of ep 1 of Tell Me That You Love Me. SHS comforting ABH as he's having a traumatic breakdown in 19th Life. The love-making scene in Call It Love. There were a lot of great scenes this year.

BIGGEST CRUSH

Lee Jang Hyun, My Dearest - is that even a competition? He's flawed - vain, often emotionally closed off, not great at processing emotions, lashing out when hurt. He is also incredibly heroic in a real, knows the cost but bears it, kind of way. Whatever he does, he commits utterly but it's never without understanding the cost. He felt both larger than life and utterly real. He went through hell and maintained his soul and the way he loved Gil Chae was breath-taking to behold.

Runner Up: Yang Gyu, Goryeo Khitan War - an experienced military commander who wins an impossible victory even as it ravages his soul. Competence is sexy as fuck.

BEST SCENE STEALER CHARACTER

Rang, Tale of the Nine Tailed 1938 - 1938 really was Rang's chance to shine and he took it. For a character I started out disliking in the original, he really stole my entire heart in this drama. I am so glad he got his happy ending with his brother and his girl.

Runner Up: Crown Prince, My Dearest. He started out as a sheltered, spoiled aristocrat, convinced the world owed him for existing. He grew up slowly and painfully into an amazing man. And then was murdered for it and I cried.

NEEDS A SEQUEL

Arthdal - it leaves the story at a good stopping point but it's very much a "world in flux, adventures and conflicts continue" ending and I would love to see more of these characters. I know we won't but it would have been nice.

NEEDS SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

Behind Your Touch - should have been snipped at birth.

TOO MANY SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

Vigilante - I don't mean it had scissors taken to it because it's not cdrama and there is no NRTA, but this drama would have benefitted from being longer. I mean, I love fights and gay polycules as much as the next tumblr person but a bit more character development would not have come amiss. (ahaha - I said come. Leave me alone.)

TROPE THAT NEEDS TO DIE

I don't care about cops/doctors/trash collectors/whoever - workplace drama centering on their "cases" needs to die. I hate procedurals from any country and Korea is no exception.

FAVORITE TROPE WE’VE SEEN A LOT OF

Supernatural critter devoted to their OTP with all the power of their long life.

BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT

Our Blooming Youth - it was far from terrible but it was a giant meh. I was so excited to see Park Hyung Sik in a sageuk (that wasn't the hot mess that was Hwarang) and I adored the source novel. It actually started well and then...it's like Revenge of the Beige!

BIGGEST GOOD SURPRISE

I want to say Moon in the Day but to be honest, I was excited by posters and trailers so it wasn't wholly a surprise despite not having much of an opinion on the actors before I saw them. So I am going to say My Demon. I was bored by the trailers, I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a Kim Yoo Jung drama and before this year I would have said Song Kang was an incredibly limited actor in everything I've seen him in and not appealing to me at all. And here I am rabidly rabiding for this drama!

If I am not limiting myself to dramas but can use this for actors - Hwang Minhyun in My Lovely Liar. I genuinely did not think the man could act and then he gave such a pitch-perfect, nuanced performance out of nowhere!

2023 DRAMAS I HAVEN’T SEEN THAT I MOST WANT TO WATCH

I have actually watched all the kdramas that aired this year that I wanted to check out except for Evilive. I am saving this for when I have time.

BEST NON-2023 DRAMA I’VE WATCHED IN 2023

I don't know if I'd say it's the best but Say You Love Me (2004) with Kim Rae Won as a quasi monk seduced away from his true love by an evil older woman was a hell of a ride.

MOST ANTICIPATED

Love Song for Illusion (Lady assassin falls for her royal target who has two personalities), Captivating the King (lady spy falls for her royal target who is tormented) - notice a theme? Also Flower that Blooms at Night because Honey Lee in a sageuk, The Life of Mrs Ock (Lim Ji Yeon in a sageuk), The Love Story of Chun Hwa (an "erotic" sageuk, hmmmm, what?!), Hong Rang (Lee Jae Wook in a super angst sageuk), Queen Woo (that cast and set in Goguryeo!), Wong Kyung (about Lee Bang Won's wife and I love the cast.) Basically, if it's period, I am there with bells on.

[houpss]

The last moment of affection

Peiring:Lee Minho x Han Jisung

ONLY APPEARANCE AND A LITTLE CHARACTER ARE TAKEN FROM REAL PEOPLE. DOES NOT REFER TO REAL IDOLS.

Tag:doomed love, angst, suicide, drugs, death.

Minho and Jisung had a complicated and complex history. Their relationship was riddled with complex emotions and tension, laced with doubt and deception. They managed to change each other's lives, but, unfortunately, not for the better. How did this story begin? What happened at the end? A love story is never happy, love is cruel, and trust destroys hearts.

They began writing this story when they were students in high school.Both are only 17 years old. Minho is the leader of the basketball team, and Jisung is a very attractive guitarist in the school band. Minho is harsh and rude, while Jisung is loud, cheerful and very gentle. Minho immediately noticed Jisung in the crowd, bright blue hair visible in the crowd. Jisung dressed the way he wanted, he did what he wanted...and then Minho wanted Jisung. Jisung immediately fell in love with Minho, maybe this story is about true love? Jisung also paid attention to Minho, but noted him as a very rude and wayward young man.

–"Look, Sonnie, Minho is staring at you again,” Felix whispered in Jisung’s ear and glanced towards Minho, who was sitting at the opposite end of the dining room.

–"He recently invited me to his home..” Jisung whispered mysteriously in response and looked at Minho and waved his hand.

–"And what did you do?"

–"Damn, first we watched anime... and then... he kissed me." Jisung's cheeks turned red and he was sure that Minho was grinning at such Jisung. Felix's eyes widened and he squeezed Jisung's shoulder approvingly, "YOU HAVE TO TELL ME EVERYTHING."

This was the beginning. Everything was like something out of a stupid novel or, even worse, a romantic drama. The relationship started fast and furious, Minho loved a lot of emotions and Minho loved Jisung. Jisung always dreamed of being loved and wanted to love. Minho lifted Jisung to heaven.

–"So gentle when you're embarrassed"

–"Please,Ho..Kiss me again"

Soft laughter, hot hands under a T-shirt and such familiar lips on the skin. The idea of falling in love with Lee Minho was the best thing in life.

–“You look like my dream...you feel like the most pleasant alcohol,” Lee whispered and kissed Jisung aggressively, hovering over him on the sofa. They met at Minho's house, these were secret meetings. Jisung's family only knew Minho as Jisung's friend. But should friends kiss?

–"Sonnie, play the guitar for me. You play so beautifully" Jisung would compose hundreds of lyrics for Minho, Minho would become his eternal muse.

Minho gave Jisung the brightest love, they call it "Eros". Such love is passionate and flaming, implying a loss of control due to love... they have long ceased to control themselves. They seemed to shine with each other. They had so many moments together, so many tender and sweet memories.

And also, as Jisung said, Minho fucks him well. Yes, with Minho it was definitely the best sex, leading to languor and stars in the eyes. Lee Minho knew how to make things pleasant.

Jisung thought about Minho before bed, thought about him in the morning, and thought about him always, absolutely always. Minho settled in Jisung’s thoughts and in his heart, becoming Jisung’s very dream. Han Jisung knew how to love. And Minho...oh dear Minho. Minho never thought he wanted to settle for just one. Lee Minho wanted to take everything at once.

Minho has always been a person prone to cheating. He couldn't stop at one person, one story. But when he decided to cheat on Jisung, his long-term partner and lover, it was too much even for him.

Minho:Hyunnie) can you come to my house by 7:30 pm?

Hyunjin:I can, Minho, what happened?

Minho: Jisung and I had a fight, I'm so bored...

Hyunjin: Omg, I'll be there soon. wait with alcohol.

Minho: Tanks 💌👌🏻

Oh yeah. Minho and Jisung started arguing a lot. Minho often disappears, he's just bored with Jisung. Jisung is too nice, Jisung is too soft and Jisung loves him too much. It was suffocating Minho, he wanted freedom and more lust, Minho wanted more sex. Jisung tried many times to have a normal conversation with Minho, but every time the same short message awaited him: “Don’t bother me, I’m busy.”

Busy...When will you find time for Jisung?

–"Haven't you talked again?"

–"Lix...he always disappears somewhere, he always goes with Hyunjin...it's like I'm nobody"

–"Please Jisung, talk to him."

–"But I don't want to hurt him."

–"Aren’t you in pain yourself?”

Those around Jisung clearly noticed how he was losing interest in life. He couldn't understand how he could think like that...he would never leave Minho, and that thought haunted her every night. He could not fill the emptiness in his soul, and the moral pain became unbearable.

–"I want to watch a movie with you, Sonnie"

–"Min!! I'm so happy, of course I'll come...how about tonight?"

But there were no films. Minho loved the body, Minho doesn't need Jisung's soul. He invited Jisung to indulge in the passions of the night. Jisung is in pain again, but he allows Minho to do it.

Jisung:Minnie, We need to talk

Minho:About what?

Jisung:I know it will hurt. forgive me, you were my best boyfriend...I really love you so much, I always do. I love you until my knees tremble and my heart hurts... but it’s time to end this. You always disappear with Hyunjin or Chan, you always avoid me, it hurts me. I want to end this relationship.

Minho:Oh so pretty)Yeah, we are breaking up. I do not love you. Sorry, I'm late for Chan :)))

Pain.Jisung is so stupid, yes, stupid. It hurts so damn much. It’s as if a tormenting frost has set in on your soul, and the flowers are dying in the frost. as if his heart had been torn out of his chest and left him, leaving only emptiness in him. Full of despair, he experiences a loss of interest in life. Further we go, worse it becomes. Previously, he could find joy, happiness, pleasure in life even in the little things. But now all the days have become gray, devoid of meaning and purpose. It’s dark inside him, a dark forest, as if his soul is immersed in absolute darkness.

"Can I just leave?" - such thoughts arise in him more and more often. What does he have to lose? He lost his soulmate, his family, his love. What's left? Endless emptiness and pain. It's so easy to just stop existing. It's so easy to stop feeling pain. Jisung is unable to live without Minho. Jisung's soul completely dissolved in Minho, but he just laughed at him. Probably Jisung has no value since Minho cheated on him... probably Jisung is not good enough for Minho... Jisung promises to improve. Jisung wants to go back to Minho, but sees him either in Hyunjin’s company or in Chan’s Company.

Jisung's too kind heart hurts, he completely stops socializing. He leaves the group, now the guitar is his past. He dyed his bright blue hair black and permed it, so he's now curly. Jisung wears glasses and dresses modestly, Jisung has lost himself. Han Jisung killed himself. The world is like cracked glass, fragments fly in different directions. Jisung only allowed Felix to come near him, and Felix’s heart ached so much for his friend. Felix doesn't want to lose Jisung.

But Felix didn't have extra ears or eyes, he couldn't always be with Jisung, and Jisung only communicated with Felix. This night will be the loneliest.

Night. White sheets, the silence of the night and only the cool air brought Jisung to consciousness. What a terrible feeling, why does love hurt so much? He missed Minho, he believed that Minho was not bad, but it hurt so much. It hurt as if I had been hit with all my might right in the chest. Jisung saw life next to Minho. Jisung destroyed himself, he gave up his dreams and career. Jisung can't be himself anymore, so what's left? Black curls fell on an unnaturally pale face, Jisung got out of bed and found some pills in the medicine cabinet, he didn’t care what they were. Jisung didn't realize what he was doing or why he was doing it. He just wants to stop feeling pain, pills relieve pain.

Jisung:Sorry, Felix

Jisung:It will be better, better for everyone.

Jisung:I'm so scared, but I have to do it.

Jisung:Sorry bro...you were the best.

Han Jisung turned off his phone without seeing Felix's tirade and the message "I'M ALREADY ON THE GO, PLEASE DON'T DO ANYTHING." Oh.. Jisung just didn't want to be stopped.Death for lunch today, bon appetit.

Jisung looked at the pills that were lying on a snow-white plate. There is no doubt that Jisung is just tired. Many people say that after death... it is calm and good there, which is what Jisung wanted. Jisung locked himself in the kitchen after changing into a black shirt and black pants, his black curly hair falling over his face. First pills...second...third...fourth...he lost count, I think there were about 30? The last thing Jisung felt was the feeling of doomed love, “I’m sorry that I love you so much, Lee Minho,” Han Jisung’s very last thought.

But Lee Felix didn’t have time, he had to break down the door to the kitchen, where he saw Jisung already dead. He sat just like he was alive, only he would never speak and would never walk. Lee Felix will blame Minho and tell everyone to blame him for Jisung's death. Han Jisung is no longer in pain, he is no longer afraid or in love.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 47: The Maestro's Diversion

Prev > Masterlist > Next

September 1925

TW: mind control, body control, captivity, kidnapping

Despite Alexander's attempt at soothing him, Oliver felt himself growing more and more anxious as the ballet continued. As much as he tried to focus on the dance, but now that he knew about the strange man's identity, he couldn't help but sneak glances over at him and fret. 

Objectively, he didn't look that dangerous - a very slight older man with a sharp gaze -- but there was a certain something dreadful about him that Oliver could sense from across the theater. Or perhaps it was just his imagination, borne of the fact that Alexander was still very much on edge.

The ballet itself did not calm his nerves either. The dancing was growing more and more feverish and abstract, the costumes wilder, with bright red beads and ribbons that seemed to signify wounds. The climax was what appeared to be a human sacrifice, where the prima ballerina danced upon an altar, red ribbons tied around her hands and feet and neck, finally collapsing among raucous, atonal music.

Oliver's anxiety was reaching a fever pitch as the ballet came to a close. He clapped politely as the dancers took their bows, glancing over at the strange man.

He was clapping, but he wasn't looking at the stage any more. No, his eyes were trained directly on Oliver. They locked gazes, and Oliver felt a chill run down his spine.

"We will wait until most of the audience has cleared out," said his master. "Then we'll go attend to my master in his box. We may be in luck. He may be in an unusually pleasant mood."

Oliver had no idea how that icy gaze could count to Alexander as "unusually pleasant." "Must we meet him?"

Alexander didn't answer.

"Couldn't we just... leave?"

"No."

Oliver had never imagined he could feel so much dread simply watching men in tuxedos and women in fancy evening dress chatter and mingle as they made their way to the exits. His hands hurt, and he realized that he was gripping the arms of the chair so hard that they were making imprints. Alexander said nothing, stoically staring down at the empty stage. 

Alexander was being so terse, so stiff, so unlike his normal self. But Oliver, of course, had no choice but to follow, no matter how badly he wanted to dig in his heels and not go. He feared that any struggle right now would not be met with Alexander's gentle spell correcting him, but with something far worse.

They made their way around the theater in silence, entering the box and entering the presence of Alexander's sire.

He looked upon Alexander with harsh judgement in his eyes, which Alexander took stoically, and then he looked upon Oliver with...

It was something like approval, perhaps even the ghost of a smile, and it was somehow even worse than his look of disdain.

"Good evening, sire," said his master with a practiced bow. "Was the ballet to your liking?"

"It was passable," the Maestro said, his voice like a musical instrument from another place and time. "While far from perfection, the bold direction was at least more interesting than what usually passes for art in this city. Unusually, I find myself craving the new more and more these days." He was staring at Oliver, not Alexander, as he said this.

"It seems as though you've spent the last few seasons confined to your chambers, sire," said Alexander, with measured words. "That may account for your desire for novelty."

"...A fair observation, child," he said. "Let's speak more of the new and novel, then. This must be your recently acquired thrall, young Oliver, is it not? I've heard that there was quite a stir at the auction house."

"He has very fine blood, sire, as you no doubt can tell. He is naturally docile and obedient, and has great potential."

The Maestro nodded slowly as he looked Oliver up and down. "Come, Oliver. Kneel."

Oliver's breath caught as he felt the tug on his body, puppet strings entangling his arms and legs, as he stepped forward. He remembered his master's words, and had been bracing himself for this, willing himself to relax and stay calm. Oliver would be unharmed, Alexander thought, as long as he behaved. So he didn't resist as his body fell to its knees before the Maestro, his posture straight, his hands clasped in his lap, his head tilted slightly downward, demure.

Alexander's sire took him by the chin and brought his face upwards, his fingers delicate and cold. He examined Oliver as though he were a specimen under glass, searching every inch of him for something that Oliver didn't understand. Oliver could feel the control wrapped around him, as though his very heart was forced to beat in time with the Maestro's whims.

"You've made an appropriate choice for once, Alexander," said the Maestro after what seemed like an eternity. "This is a fine acquisition, and you were quite right to not let him fall into the hands of the likes of Jameson. Well done, child."

Alexander looked every bit as surprised as Oliver felt. "Thank you, sire."

"In fact, I find myself inspired for a new acquisition of my own. As you've correctly observed, existence has become ever so dreary, and I need a new diversion." He leaned back in his seat. "Which is why you're going to pluck the prima ballerina from her perch."

Oliver nearly choked on his breath as Alexander's eyes went even wider. "The ballerina from this show, sire?" he said in a strained tone. "I don't mean to question you, but are you absolutely sure? She's well known and her absence will certainly be noticed."

"Of course. Don't take me for a fool by stating the obvious." His glare was boring a hole into Alexander. "It doesn't matter how well known she is. Once she's in my grasp, she will not be found."

"Yes, sire. My apologies."

"You must fetch her for me. Your power is much gentler than mine, befitting a lovely flower. Bring her here, so that she may dance for me and only me."

Oliver couldn't help his gaze flitting over to his master, who seemed to be struggling to keep his composure. Was he actually going to do it? Simply kidnap the ballerina, on his sire's orders?

"As you wish, sire," he said, meekly. "Oliver, come along."

"No, that won't be necessary," said the Maestro, laying his hand on top of Oliver's head before he could stand up. "I will be content to watch over your thrall while you take care of business."

The hand on his head felt oppressive, and Oliver fought down the urge to beg his master not to leave him here, alone with his sire -- to not steal away a dancer with a bright future and plunge her into a nightmare. But he could already tell from the look on his master's face that he was going to follow his sire's wishes.

"Thank you for watching over him, sire. I will return with your new thrall." 

With that, his master left the box, and Oliver was left alone with his master's sire, whose full focus had turned back to him. The Maestro ran his hand through Oliver's hair, and then tilted his head up to look at him once more.

"Hm, yes, a precious find indeed," he said, more to himself than to Oliver. "You will answer my questions truthfully, child. Do you fear me?"

The correct answer, Oliver thought, was to tell the Maestro that he did not fear him, that he was always happy to serve a vampire. But Alexander had warned him so strictly about being honest... "Yes, sir."

"Good. You're correct to do so," he said, apparently satisfied. "What do you fear from me?"

That question was far more complex, a half million nightmare scenarios crowding Oliver's mind at once. "Many things, sir," he said. "Primarily that I'm aware that you have the power to harm me at any time, in any way you wish. I hope you will be merciful, sir." 

"Merciful, hm." He seemed as though he were considering an idea he'd never heard of before, and Oliver worried he'd overstepped. "Well, you have been honest so far, so I will be honest with you, child. If you continue to be as truthful and obedient as you are now, I will have no reason to do you harm tonight."

"Thank you, sir," said Oliver, not feeling all that reassured. He felt the control over his body loosen, but before he could move, he realized what the meaning of this was when combined with his previous words -- this was a test, an obvious one at that. He steadfastly remained in the position the Maestro had placed him, trying to keep his posture straight.

"Perhaps I'm in a rare good mood from the fine night air and a half-decent ballet, but I find myself enjoying you, child. Do not take this as an invitation to be bold," he said in his musical voice. "Tell me, do you like being enthralled by my Alexander?"

Although his feelings on this were somewhat complicated, the first response that came to mind was both safe and sufficiently honest. "Yes, sir, I like it very much."

"Does he treat you well?" the Maestro intoned.

"Yes, sir," said Oliver with uncertainty, increasingly worried about this line of questioning. "I want for nothing, and the feedings are gentle and pleasant."

"I see. And does he afford you a great deal of freedom?"

So that's where this was leading. He was trying to get Oliver to admit to his master's soft treatment of him, no doubt so his master could be scolded or punished. His instinct was to protect Alexander -- to tell the Maestro that Alexander was very strict and kept him on a tight leash.

But Alexander had been adamant that Oliver must be honest, and he felt sick at the idea of disobeying a direct order from his master. "He offers me some freedoms, but not others, sir."

"Elaborate. What freedoms do you have?"

"I am not allowed to leave his manor, sir, but I am allowed to inhabit any part of it, except for my master's private chambers. When I am not feeding or waiting on my master, I am given free time to do what I wish." His heart thumped. He knew that was the wrong answer. He fought to keep himself in position, and felt the claws of control tightening around him again.

The Maestro's gaze drilled into his soul. "That is disappointing, but wholly unsurprising," he said after a long, tense minute. "Interestingly, that's the first time I've felt any sort of resistance against my control. You're otherwise obeying perfectly. Why choose that moment to struggle?"

"I want to be honest, as you ordered, sir, but I also don't want to say anything that could bring down punishment upon my master."

"Loyalty, then. An instinct to protect your master. Despite his continued shortcomings, he seems to have done a passable job when it came to enthralling you, especially compared to previous thralls," he said. "That's also my sweet Lily's work. I could sense it in you from the moment you opened your mouth. Obedient, loyal, but with too many thoughts in your head, as is her preference. Unfortunate, really." He gave Oliver a long look. "I suppose it can't be helped. For once my wayward children have brought me something worthwhile. You can always be perfected in time."

Oliver's heart filled with dread. "...Thank you, sir," he said, not knowing what else to say to that.

Before the awkward interaction could continue, Oliver heard a gorgeous, ethereal voice coming from outside of the box. He breathed it in deep, and it filled his mind with a sensation like morning fog, dampening the racing thoughts that the Maestro had criticized. The melody was beckoning him, wrapping around his limbs, enticing him to stand and follow.

Alexander. His master had returned. Follow me, follow me, he sang, a vampiric pied piper.

The pull of his song was strong enough that his master's previous command to obey the Maestro and not resist was completely overridden. He would have sleepwalked to Alexander's side in a heartbeat if it weren't for the Maestro's control preventing him, weighing down his body even as his heart yearned, and Oliver felt that he might be torn in two if this continued.

The struggle was ended when Alexander entered the box and bowed to his sire. Behind him was a young woman, thin but athletic, wearing a simple house dress that contrasted sharply with her dramatic stage makeup and the elaborate hairdo that was halfway to falling down. 

It was, of course, the prima ballerina, who had apparently been ensorcelled in her dressing room, just after changing out of her elaborate costume. Her eyes were so far away, so dreamy, as she walked gracefully, a soft smile on her lips.

Oliver's heart sank. He knew from experience how hard it was to escape Alexander's power -- and even worse, she was being given over to the Maestro's thrall. She might never see the stage again, never dance for an audience, never see her family or friends, never laugh and talk with her fellow dancers after a rehearsal. She was to be locked away like a doll in a music box, rotating slowly on command, and she most likely didn't even realize her fate yet.

The Maestro rose from his seat and wordlessly examined her as he had done to Oliver. Alexander was still humming something under his breath, something intended to keep the ballerina calm, and Oliver let the spell soften his thoughts as well, all too eager to dissociate from this scene.

He watched as, with the slightest change in expression and quirk of an eyebrow, the ballerina struck one pose, then another. She was nearly up on her toes despite wearing slippers and not proper shoes, twirling so slowly, and although her face maintained a placid expression, there was fear in her eyes, now.

"Acceptable," the Maestro murmured, as she turned and assumed a different pose. "This will do for a diversion this winter, I think. Well done once more, Alexander."

"Thank you, sire."

"It's been a long time since I've come calling, hasn't it? I do believe I have the evening after next free. I trust I'll be offered quality refreshments?" He gazed at Oliver meaningfully, as the meaning of his words penetrated through the fog.

This strange, distressing vampire wanted to drink from him. Surely his master wouldn't allow that. Surely he was only for Alexander.

"...Very well, sir," said Alexander through gritted teeth. "You're welcome at my manor at any time, of course."

"Excellent. You're dismissed, then. Take your sweet Oliver home, and I'll take my new prize." He picked the ballerina up as effortlessly as he might a kitten, and she lay unmoving in his grasp.

"Good night, sire."

"Good night, child."

Prev > Masterlist > Next

Well, this went well.

Next week, Fitz has a plan.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot @cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme @strawbearydreams @ghost-whump

[ooctlt]

I really like this blog most of the time, but sometimes you take reasonable earnest asks that are trying to be thoughtful, and are such a dick about it.

Like if it's the characters being dicks, fine. But you could say something in the tags or post to indicate you're not just viciously mocking someone for trying to engage.

I still haven't submitted an ask since seeing your response that led to comments along the lines of "anon should go die in a hole" for asking, pretty reasonably, why harrow would want to stay with people she didn't seem to like or want to be around or interact with.

(i know, because she does like them and does want them around but doesn't know how to show it) but it's an ASK blog. How do we hear that from her unless someone ASKS

i understand it might be surprising and a bit hurtful to see an ask answered with the characters being mean/flippant, and for that i do apologize that it wasnt made clear that it would be a common thing in this blog. id like to issue the disclaimer: there is always the possibility that the characters here will not take your question well. they might answer rudely, and instigating behavior is not only encouraged but expected on both ends. this does not reflect my personal opinions as the artist; there are over 250 asks even after i constantly compile duplicates, and i will answer the asks that i personally like.

i will assume you are referencing the two most recent posts where gideon acts rudely and i repost an old panel: for the former i thought anon was really sweet for being so heartfelt and encouraging, but gideon isnt the kind of person who needs to be told shes brave for doing that by a stranger. it was a simple act of survival. and harrow is still very much in the passive deprogramming phase. the latter response was meant to kickstart (spoilers) what i will call the "dicks last resort" arc, where i clean out the inbox and share more simple, low effort, but potentially rude responses*. this is because i have roughly drawn almost daily for 87 days straight, and would like to recuperate without being burnt out because i love this blog and i love art.

this leads me to my next point: some of these answers will be curt and short and rude, because they are easy to draw. if i only prioritized the "good" asks or to make certain ask responses kinder, or longer, it wouldnt be a daily blog. it would be a monthly blog where 5 asks get answered among 100s. i didnt anticipate people asking about harrows piercings, and i considered shutting it down by just having harrow say she likes them etc. but i did want to give more insight into harrows character even if she wouldnt say so herself, and that took roughly 3 full unemployed nights. if i treated every ask in good faith the same way i wouldnt have time for anything else, because they take more effort and have to be seriously considered for the future. i can retcon their favorite ice cream or play off griddlehark fighting - it takes more to keep track of a narrative about people talking Around their issues

* by rude responses i mean "this will affect the 679ers negatively, much like making your sim 🧑‍🤝‍🧑➖➖ someone" there are a few asks planned to hurt in the same way one drafts a bad end in a visual novel, and this type of interaction is encouraged. of course if you dont want them to get worse dont send asks telling gideon she should flirt with MILFs (you cant send this ask now i already said it), but i encourage the banter.

TL;DR this is the "characters think you are weird for personal questions" blog. i am sorry i didnt warn of the ask-response banter, because i also enjoy drawing these characters being dicks. i do like when aggravation and conflict leads to character development. "how do we get earnest answers unless someone asks" sometimes you will never explicitly get that from them, and thats what the dead ends are for: to let you know to try something else and read between the lines

[phoenixyfriend]

Post-O66 Mace going into hiding as a pirate with a crew like Hondo's, is that anything?

I got a bunch of input on discord. Calling this one:

A bunch of pirates, a Jedi Master on the run, and a traumatized twelve-year-old.

Kicking off with a key part of it all is @atagotiak (Tia):

He’s annoying because he’s such a stick in the mud (by which I mean it’s rather inconvenient for a pirate crew when the new recruit has morals and stuff) But he’s too valuable to get rid of, due to having all that experience with administration

I am enamored with the idea of Mace's main job being just. Pirate Admin.

Mace: So this is what I am reduced to. Aiding and abetting… in tax evasion. Hondo: And piracy. Mace: The tax evasion is a bigger hit to my pride.

Tia:

The pirates are annoyed that despite him stopping them from going through with the more immoral (and lucrative) plans they’re still making more money than before

Pirates: How are we making more money now-- Mace: Have you heard of a budget.

@jebiknights (knights):

okay but traditionally pirate ships have a quarter master who is high ranking, in charge of the bounty of every prize and therefore in charge of dividing everything up fairly like that could work really well lmaooo

The crew runs into Obi-Wan during the Leia incident and it's just time for "I can explain" on both ends.

Tia:

Hey, d’you think the pirates go after force sensitives? Mace managed to talk them into recruitment and/or relocation instead of selling to the empire. (And that’s another thing that could possibly have worked out better for them than the immoral option (not least because the empire doesn’t really treat its allies well)) Obi-Wan: and how are you dealing with Hondo’s… nonsense? Mace: eh, it’s not like he’s any worse than you or Yoda. (Mace is probably just messing with Obi-Wan. Probably)

Also I'm thinking that one of those initiates that Hondo let go(?) that one time finds them because a pirate might be likely to sell them out but they're demonstrably competent at evading arrest, so maybe-

And that's how Mace ends up with another padawan. Maybe Katooni.

@dracothulhu:

Hondo would put him in so many stupid costumes

knights:

i also just realized that mace loses both of his hands in rots..... hondo tries to convince him at least one of said hands should be a hook or a lightsaber

Tia:

Probably deliberately playing straight man about it. He doesn’t care about dignity that much, but there’s benefits to exaggerate how humiliating he finds it Hey, y’know what’s piratical? Eyepatches

[vibrates in response to baiting for Nick Fury jokes] Love it

Tia:

I do think as much as jokes about Samuel L Jackson’s other roles are fun, pirate Mace shouldn’t swear much, even after becoming acclimated to pirate life.

knights:

also i agree i think pirate mace shouldnt swear much, he should get to use his classically trained acting chops and give dramatic speeches like hes the love interest in a pirate romance novel hondo is swooning in the background .... nixy im about ready to start crack shipping them bc of this dammit this is going to pick at my brain isnt it dhgisrjgser (pirate mace not the hondo/mace part) honestly the funniest thing is that mace would probably really enjoy being a pirate after all of the beauracracy he had to deal with in the senate during the war. things are much more simple even if everyone drives him nuts lol listen mace didn't intend to get directly involved in the actual like heists probably, he is there to lay low and also to keep the ship organized and make sure hondo doesnt blow all their money on booze and "investments", but then hondo's dumbass probably gets in over his head along with his first mate and some other crew members and mace is starting to like the life hes living esp bc he is still able to help people on the Path in between thievery and tax evasion, so he goes to rescue them and is like... what am i supposed to do i am too recognizable i am supposed to be dead and puts on a disguise and just goes for it

Another thing Mace is good at is contracts He is. Painfully good at it. He doesn't enjoy it, but watching Hondo draft up a contract is almost painful. (Hondo is smart at this. He's clever. He's experienced. But he didn't take multiple classes on contract law.)

Tia:

Hondo never seemed especially book smart, and he never made a promise he hadn’t at least considered breaking so contracts would be a weak point for him

[mrsparrasblog]

Mission save the human race pt.4

Previous part next part

TW: Breeding kink, Rough sex , Smut, degrading

Before you could realize what was happening, Simon had already grabbed you and carried you down to the room where Johnny was. He was faster with you in his hands than you could be on your own.

You thought he was getting better. He lay in the bed, uncovered, his body glistening full of sweat, and he was shaking. Fever, possible sepsis—fuck, fuck.

You dont have any medication to save him from sepsis - if that were the case. You could stop a fever with your trinkets and the medication you prepared. Hell, you could try this natural healing stuff your grandma swore by, but you are fucked right now, and Johnny too. You can't panic; you need to stay calm for Simon's sake and his friend's sake. They'd make your attempts to save Johnny even worse if they knew how overwhelmed you are right now.

"Cold water, towels, onions, and Paracetamol now." Simon immediately ran down, gathering all the things you would need to save Johnny.

"What the fuck?" Kyle questioned.

"I don't have anything better. As long as none of you are ready to raid a hospital now, this must do the job," I screamed at him.

"Where is the nearest hospital?" John asked.

"16 miles away."

"We will be back in a day. What do you need?"

"Paracetamol, Morphine, Tylenol, gloves, new surgical equipment, as many disinfection wipes or solutions as you can get, new bandages, everything you can get."

"Yes, ma'am," Alex chanted.

The boys left the house in minutes, fully equipped with gear. If you weren't so focused on Johnny's safety, you'd notice the ache between your legs as soon as you saw them with your gear and how Kyle kissed you goodbye with so much passion.

"Gathered the stuff." Simon came up with all the things in his bulky arms. You took the towels and soaked them in cold water, putting them on his muscular legs. Simon watched every movement, making sure you saved his Johnny.

"It's just a fever, probably, and John went away with the others to gather some stuff from a nearby hospital."

"I can't lose him."

"I know."

You repeated that procedure for over an hour until his fever went down. He was still a bit drowsy, but he was safe.

"You saved him again."

"I did."

------------------------------------

Two days later, Johnny was as healthy as he could be. He still slept a lot, but he woke up more often. And he was a pain in the ass; he never took his medication and always flirted with you, telling you that you're a pure angel and that he can't wait to finally be on his feet again. And how the others wouldn't be able to put some cubs in you like he could.

You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren't charmed by him. He made butterflies pop up in your stomach, and when you saw him kissing Simon, it was over for you. You wanted both so badly. The others still haven't returned from their raid, so you lay on the couch with Ghost, reading a book; he gave you one of his shirts to wear around the house.

"Can we cuddle a bit? It's getting cold in here."

"Sure, go ahead," he replied, sitting back down on the couch. He patted the spot next to him, indicating for you to join him. As you curled up against him, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer. "What are you reading?" His eyes glistened with interest. You waited years for someone to be interested in you, and now you had five men—well, seven—but you didn't meet the other two, who were completely interested in you.

"Just a romance novel," you replied shortly. You knew it was a bit steamy, but you didn't want to tell him.

"Ah, I see. Well, make sure you share the juicy parts with me," Simon teased. He leaned his head against yours and started to flip through the pages of the book. "This isn't too bad," he commented after a few minutes. "Oh, do you like these things?" He pointed to a passage where the male spanked the woman, and you couldn't stop blushing; of course, you liked that.

"No, it's embarrassing when you read it. Stop, Simon."

Simon chuckled and closed the book, setting it down on the coffee table. "Alright, alright, I was just trying to be nice," he said, pretending to be hurt by your response. He leaned back onto the couch, letting out a content sigh.

You leaned against him, burying your face in his pecks. You lingered in his smell; he smelled fantastic, like sandalwood and pine. You inhaled his scent and sighed contentedly.

Simon's eyes closed as you buried your face in his chest. He could feel his heart racing and his breath becoming short. This wasn't supposed to happen, he told himself. But the warmth of your body against him, the softness of your skin—it was all too much.

"Si, do you think we are alone for a long time?" You wondered when the others would come back.

Simon opened his eyes and looked down at you. "Honestly, I don't know," he said quietly. "We could be here for hours, or we could be interrupted at any moment." He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

"You saw Alex and me, didn't you?"

"Yes"

"He made me feel good," he did; in fact, he made you feel desired. Every one of them did, but in different ways, but you still weren't sure about Simon. He loved Johnny, and even if both of them desired you, they had each other. Maybe they just wanted to use you as an incubator to get them a child, but nothing more. Alex at least gave you the feeling of truly respecting you, while Price worshiped the ground you walked on. Johnny was amazed by your appearance, but Simon awakened a lust in you.

Simon frowned at your comment. "Alex made you feel good?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even. "Is that why you went to him instead of me?" He sounded jealous. How did they agree on sharing you when all of them were so possessive and jealous all the time?

"No, look, I'm just sometimes not sure if you see me like that. In one moment, you're cuddling me, and in the other moment, you glare at me like I'm some scum."

Simon sighed heavily, knowing he'd messed up. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I don't mean to treat you like that. It's just... sometimes I get frustrated and take it out on you." He paused for a moment.

"I can understand that with Johnny's injury, it took a toll on you."

"Yeah, well, that's no excuse," Simon said with a frown. "I should be able to handle my emotions better than that." He paused for a moment before reaching out to gently squeeze your hand.

"Did you like how I took good care of him?"

Simon hesitated before speaking. "It was nice of you to help him, but I wish I would have been able to be as useful as you," he said eventually.

"You aren't useless. I'm useless. I can't even use a fucking gun," you admitted.

"Yeah, well, things are complicated," Simon admitted. He squeezed your hand again before letting go and standing up. "I'm gonna go take a shower or bath or whatever you call this."

"It would be good in times like this to save some water," you said cheekily, sounding like a fucking man on Tinder. You needed to improve your flirting skills.

Simon rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Alright, smartass," he muttered under his breath before heading into the bathroom to clean himself.

You were thinking of joining him, but you didn't want to intrigue him or make him uncomfortable.

You thought about using the short alone time you had to acknowledge the ache between your legs. You slowly started to remove the lingerie under his oversized shirt and rub your clit. It felt so good; you missed Alex's touch and John's. You needed them all.

You started to finger yourself, pumping your short fingers in and out in frustration since they didn't reach the right spot. You were so concentrated on getting the slightest bit of satisfaction that you didn't notice him joining the room again.

Your one hand was pinching your hardened nipple, the other fingering your sweet spot, your back ached, and you noticed how you got closer to the sweet release you needed: "Fuck Simon, fuck me."

Simon couldn't help but chuckle at the sight before him. You were so caught up in your pleasure that you didn't even notice he was there. He stepped closer, his hard-on tenting his towel, as he watched you pinch your nipple and finger yourself.

"Mhm, fuck," you whined as you slipped in another finger. The sound of your moan and the sight of your fingers sliding in and out of your moist folds sent a shudder of desire through him. You were so wet and eager for release; it made him want to pull you up for a rough fuck.

He slowly started to stroke himself. The sight of his shirt coated in your juices only made him harder. He loved the thought of you being so turned on by him that you couldn't help but cum all over his clothes. "Mmm, you're such a dirty little slut."

"What? Oh god, Simon, how long are you watching?" you said, removing your fingers that were coated from your throbbing core in embarrassment. In all your years alive, you had never been caught masturbating before.

"Long enough to see you get yourself off," Simon smirked in response, his voice laced with amusement. The smell of your arousal, mixed with the steam from the shower, was driving him wild. His cock twitched at the thought of being buried deep inside you.

"Oh fuck, I'm so sorry, I was just so woken up."

"Don't apologize," Simon said, his voice low and rough. He stepped closer, his towel dropping to the floor as he revealed his erect cock. "I quite enjoyed watching you pleasure yourself."

You swallowed as you saw his hard-on. When you thought John was big, you were wrong. Simon was massive; he had at least 9 inches. How was this even possible? He was deliciously curved with an oh my god, is that a piercing?

"Oh god, it's fucking big. How does that fit in someone?" he just smirked before replying.

"I'll make sure it fits perfectly inside you," Simon replied, a sinister grin spreading across his face. He walked towards you, his massive cock bobbing with each step.

"Now, why don't you take care of that for me?"

You glided down on your knees in front of him, licking all over his tip and savoring his delicious pre cum "Oh god, I love your piercing down there."

Simon let out a low groan as you began to worship his cock, your tongue flicking over the piercing at the tip. "Yes, I have one," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Now suck on it and show me how much you want my cock inside you."

"Will it hurt if you fuck me?" You couldn't deny the fear of his dick splitting you in half.

"It might initially, but trust me, it'll feel fantastic," Simon replied, running his fingers through your hair. His other hand gripped your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. "I promise I'll take it slow and make sure you're ready for my cock."

You slowly wrapped your mouth around his cock, trying to fit it all in your sweet mouth, but it was too big. You almost gagged, and tears fell on your beautiful cheeks from the sudden loss of air.

Simon couldn't help but chuckle as he watched you struggle to take his cock in your mouth. "You're doing great, baby girl," he said, pulling back slightly. "Just take it slow and try not to choke."

You slowly bobbed your head up and down, and his tip hit your throat. Simon couldn't help but let out a moan as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft. The feeling of your soft lips and warm tongue wrapped around him was driving him wild. "Fuck, that feels good," he muttered, reaching down to stroke your hair gently.

Simon's hips began to thrust involuntarily as you continued to suck on his cock, your moans vibrating against his shaft. He gripped your hair tighter, pulling you away from him slightly. "Fuck, Babygirl, you're killing me."

You grabbed his balls and squeezed them in a teasing manner.

Simon groaned deeply, feeling the pleasure shoot through his body. "God, that's it," he murmured, pushing into your mouth again as you began to stroke his balls gently. "You're such a naughty little slut." The mixture of degradation and praise made you go crazy.

You bobbed your head faster, and Simon's moans turned into grunts as you took him deeper into your mouth, the head of his cock brushing against the back of your throat. His hips bucked forward, pushing against your face as he lost control. "I'm going to cum," As he felt his orgasm approaching, Simon gripped your hair tighter, pulling you away from his cock just enough for him to slide it out of your mouth. "Swallow," he commanded, his voice dark and demanding.

You swallowed it, but it was way too much; it ran down from the curve of your lips to your perfect breasts, making you look like a painting.

Simon watched as you swallowed his cum, a mix of satisfaction and pride filling him up. He admired the sight of it running down your breasts, making them glisten in the dim light. "That's my good girl," he praised, reaching out to cup one of your breasts. He scoped the cum from your nipples, putting it in your mouth.

He smirked as he watched you clean his fingers with your tongue, enjoying the taste of his cum. "You're such a dirty little slut," he said, his voice low and seductive. "But I love every fucking second of it."

"I'm not a slut; I'm a good girl," you protested.

Simon raised an eyebrow at your comment. "Is that so? Then why are you sucking my cock and letting me cum all over your face and tits?" he asked, his tone full of sarcasm. "Sounds like slutty behavior to me."

"Because I'm a good girl, and good girls satisfy their men."

Simon couldn't help but chuckle at your response. "Well, I guess that makes sense," he admitted, his grip on your breast tightening slightly. "You're a good girl when it comes to pleasing me."

"Can you maybe return the favor?" you asked shyly.

Simon grinned at your request. "Of course, baby girl," he said, reaching down to stroke your pussy. "You've been such a good girl for me today; I think it's only fair that I return the favor."

He admired the sight of your wet pussy, glistening in the dim light. "Fuck, you're so fucking sexy," he growled.

"I need your tongue there, please."

With a devilish grin, Simon leaned down and teased your sensitive folds with his tongue. "You want my tongue, huh?" he asked before pushing past your entrance and thrusting his tongue deep inside you. Simon chuckled at your moan as he continued to lick and probe your tight little pussy. He loved the way you responded to him, especially when you begged for more. "That's it, baby," he whispered between licks.

"Fuck Simon, so good."

Simon loved hearing you moan his name. It only fueled his desire for you more. With one hand on your hip, he used the other to slide two fingers inside you, finding your G-spot and massaging it while his tongue continued to lap at your pussy like a hungry dog. "That's right, baby," Simon growled against your wet folds. "You like that? You want more?"

He picked up the pace, his fingers thrusting deeper inside you as he sucked harder on your clit.

"Yes, please, more feels so good."

He grinned at your enthusiastic response. "Good girl," he praised you, sliding his fingers in and out of you while still working your clit with his tongue. "You're so wet for me. You taste so fucking divine."

"Please Si"

"Please, what, baby?" Simon asked, lifting his head to look down at you with a smirk. "You want to feel even better?" He asked, sliding his fingers deeper inside you before circling his thumb around your hard, swollen clit.

"Make me cum, please. Simon's thumb began to rub circles around your clit, making you squirm beneath him.

"Cum for me, baby girl," he demanded, his voice rough and full of desire. "I want to see you lose control." You came on his tongue, screaming, whining, and shaking. Simon felt you tighten around his fingers as your orgasm hit, and he couldn't resist sucking harder on your clit to milk every last drop of pleasure from you.

He loved the way you screamed and whined, your body shaking with the intensity of your release.

"Stop Stop it too much."

Simon smirked as he felt your walls clenching around his fingers, knowing that you were on the brink of squirting. "Go ahead, baby," he encouraged you. "Let it all out for me."

"Mhm, fuck Simon too much."

Simon chuckled as you begged him to stop, but he couldn't resist the urge to push you further. With one hand, he gently pressed against your belly to make it even worse, while he continued to stimulate your clit with the other. "You like being controlled?"

You tried to move your legs away, pushing them together, not wanting to lose control.

Simon watched as you tried unsuccessfully to move your legs away. He smiled cruelly at your futile efforts before tightening his grip on your thighs. "I think you need to learn who's really in charge here," he growled.

Simon relished in the power he had over you as he brought you to yet another orgasm. He could see the pleasure and frustration warring on your face, and it only fueled his desires. "Do you like feeling so helpless?"

"Yes, Simon," you whined, enjoying his dominant behavior.

"Good girl," Simon praised you, his voice thick with satisfaction. He continued to tease you, pressing his fingers inside you just a little bit deeper each time, seeking out any remaining pleasure centers within your tight little pussy.

He started to place small slaps on your abused clit.

"Ahh, fuck."

Simon moaned as he felt your walls clench around his fingers. The combination of pleasure and pain from your reactions was addictive. He couldn't help but increase the intensity of both, slapping your clit harder with each passing moment. With a hard slap, you came a fifth time, squirting all over his face - coating him completely, and the couch under you,

He let out a low growl of satisfaction as he felt your pussy clenching tightly around his fingers one last time before releasing them from their grip.

"I'm sorry," you said.

"Don't apologize," Simon murmured, his gaze lingering on you. "That was fucking beautiful; you taste like pure heaven."

You looked at his throbbing dick, reaching for it.

Simon saw the look in your eyes and grinned, wrapping his hand around his throbbing erection. "You want more?" he asked, already knowing the answer. "You're such a greedy little slut," he teased you before guiding his cock to your entrance. You winced as he put it inside you, inch for inch.

"I know it's big, but you can take it," Simon grunted, his eyes locked on yours as he began to pound into you. The head of his cock hit your cervix with each powerful stroke, filling you.

You were so tight around him that it felt like heaven itself was wrapped around his shaft.

Feeling your legs wrap around his hips, Simon groaned low in pleasure. The sensation of being so tightly held while he thrust into you was exquisite. He reached down between your bodies, his fingers finding their way to your clit.

"No too much, Si."

Simon couldn't help but laugh at your attempts to pull him out. "I told you it was going to be big," he teased, slamming himself into you harder. His hand on your clit moved faster, his fingers tracing over the sensitive nub.

"Hurts so good," you admitted.

"You like pain, then?" Simon growled, his face twisted with lust and anger. With one last hard push, he buried himself deep within you, as far as he could go. "Say it, you fucking slut. Tell me you love it."

"I love it when you're rough with me, Si," you moaned. He felt like heaven and hell at the same time inside of you. His big cum-loaded balls hit your ass all over again, leaving his mark on you.

"Fuck yes, you do," Simon hissed, grabbing your hips and slamming himself into you over and over again. His fingers on your clit were relentless, rubbing in circles to drive you closer to the edge. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight," Simon warned, his voice low and rough. He pulled out of you with a wet pop and spun you around, pushing you on all fours and arching your back.

Simon slammed himself into you from behind, his hands gripping your hips as he thrust into you with all his strength. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, and he could feel you clenching around him, trying to keep up with his powerful strokes.

Simon's fingers dug into your hips as he pounded into you, his breathing becoming ragged. "You like that?" He asked roughly, knowing the answer well. "You love it when I take you hard and rough, don't you?"

"Yes Si"

Simon's pace quickened, his movements becoming more frantic as he reached the edge of release. He leaned down and bit your shoulder, growling incoherently as he felt himself about to cough. "Your pussy is so fucking tight."

As you begged him for more, Simon's cock throbbed even harder, the head hitting your cervix with each powerful thrust. He grabbed your hair and pulled your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry mouth. "No one took me so good as you did."

"Mhm, fuck, best cunt you ever had?"

Simon grunted as he felt himself about to explode inside of you. "Best cunt I ever fucking had," he growled into your ear, kissing you all over your neck.

"Mhm, Si, please fill me up."

He smiled, his teeth bared in a devilish grin. "You want my baby in your belly?" he asked, his voice a low growl. For the first time, you betrayed yourself and nodded. You wanted his fucking baby and nothing more than it.

"I'm going to fuck a baby inside of you." Simon's thrusts became even more powerful, his hips slamming into yours as he felt himself reach the peak of pleasure. "You're going to be a Riley," he growled, feeling his cock twitch and throb inside you as he filled you with his seed.

As you both came together, Simon's seed mixed with your sweet nectar. He continued to push his cum over and over again into your cervix, lifting your legs, not allowing one drop to escape before he impregnated you.

After he turned soft, He pulled out of you and collapsed on the couch, panting heavily as he watched his thick, white cum drip from your pussy onto the fabric.

You couldn't stop laughing as you saw his cum dripping from your fucked-out core.

Simon grinned at you, his eyes glinting playfully. "You think that's funny?" He asked, reaching over to give you a light swat on the ass. "Just wait until we have to deal with a tiny little mini-me running around."

"Oh god, that will be hell." You laughed, but somehow you wanted this baby to be his. It was selfish; he had Johnny, and you were only a tool for him.

"You know you aren't a slut; I just thought you liked the degrading," he kissed you on your forehead and then down to your nose, to your plump lips.

"I loved it."

"You look sad for someone who had six orgasms."

"It's just that sometimes I feel like an incubator for all of you, not like a person." Small tears escaped your eyes, and you felt pathetic. You should have said this to Alex and not to Simon.

"Oh, baby girl, you aren't. The captain is smitten with you. Gaz is obsessed with every word you say. Alex made love to you. And Johnny and I look. I know we're a couple, but we are Poly, and we don't want to have just your baby. All Johnny talks about is the sweet angel who saved him. You are important, and I'm sorry if I made you feel that way." Your heart swells at his words.

"You made me feel amazing, Si."

"And I will continue, baby girl, and now on your belly, let me give you a massage. You deserve it after taking it like a champ."

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The (open) web is good, actually

I'll be at the Studio City branch of the LA Public Library tonight (Monday, November 13) at 1830hPT to launch my new novel, The Lost Cause. There'll be a reading, a talk, a surprise guest (!!) and a signing, with books on sale. Tell your friends! Come on down!

The great irony of the platformization of the internet is that platforms are intermediaries, and the original promise of the internet that got so many of us excited about it was disintermediation – getting rid of the middlemen that act as gatekeepers between community members, creators and audiences, buyers and sellers, etc.

The platformized internet is ripe for rent seeking: where the platform captures an ever-larger share of the value generated by its users, making the service worst for both, while lock-in stops people from looking elsewhere. Every sector of the modern economy is less competitive, thanks to monopolistic tactics like mergers and acquisitions and predatory pricing. But with tech, the options for making things worse are infinitely divisible, thanks to the flexibility of digital systems, which means that product managers can keep subdividing the Jenga blocks they pulling out of the services we rely on. Combine platforms with monopolies with digital flexibility and you get enshittification:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

An enshittified, platformized internet is bad for lots of reasons – it concentrates decisions about who may speak and what may be said into just a few hands; it creates a rich-get-richer dynamic that creates a new oligarchy, with all the corruption and instability that comes with elite capture; it makes life materially worse for workers, users, and communities.

But there are many other ways in which the enshitternet is worse than the old good internet. Today, I want to talk about how the enshitternet affects openness and all that entails. An open internet is one whose workings are transparent (think of "open source"), but it's also an internet founded on access – the ability to know what has gone before, to recall what has been said, and to revisit the context in which it was said.

At last week's Museum Computer Network conference, Aaron Straup Cope gave a talk on museums and technology called "Wishful Thinking – A critical discussion of 'extended reality' technologies in the cultural heritage sector" that beautifully addressed these questions of recall and revisiting:

https://www.aaronland.info/weblog/2023/11/11/therapy/#wishful

Cope is a museums technologist who's worked on lots of critical digital projects over the years, and in this talk, he addresses himself to the difference between the excitement of the galleries, libraries, archives and museums (GLAM) sector over the possibilities of the web, and why he doesn't feel the same excitement over the metaverse, and its various guises – XR, VR, MR and AR.

The biggest reason to be excited about the web was – and is – the openness of disintermediation. The internet was inspired by the end-to-end principle, the idea that the network's first duty was to transmit data from willing senders to willing receivers, as efficiently and reliably as possible. That principle made it possible for whole swathes of people to connect with one another. As Cope writes, openness "was not, and has never been, a guarantee of a receptive audience or even any audience at all." But because it was "easy and cheap enough to put something on the web," you could "leave it there long enough for others to find it."

That dynamic nurtured an environment where people could have "time to warm up to ideas." This is in sharp contrast to the social media world, where "[anything] not immediately successful or viral … was a waste of time and effort… not worth doing." The social media bias towards a river of content that can't be easily reversed is one in which the only ideas that get to spread are those the algorithm boosts.

This is an important way to understand the role of algorithms in the context of the spread of ideas – that without recall or revisiting, we just don't see stuff, including stuff that might challenge our thinking and change our minds. This is a much more materialistic and grounded way to talk about algorithms and ideas than the idea that Big Data and AI make algorithms so persuasive that they can control our minds:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

As bad as this is in the social media context, it's even worse in the context of apps, which can't be linked into, bookmarked, or archived. All of this made apps an ominous sign right from the beginning:

https://memex.craphound.com/2010/04/01/why-i-wont-buy-an-ipad-and-think-you-shouldnt-either/

Apps interact with law in precisely the way that web-pages don't. "An app is just a web-page wrapped in enough IP to make it a crime to defend yourself against corporate predation":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/27/an-audacious-plan-to-halt-the-internets-enshittification-and-throw-it-into-reverse/

Apps are "closed" in every sense. You can't see what's on an app without installing the app and "agreeing" to its terms of service. You can't reverse-engineer an app (to add a privacy blocker, or to change how it presents information) without risking criminal and civil liability. You can't bookmark anything the app won't let you bookmark, and you can't preserve anything the app won't let you preserve.

Despite being built on the same underlying open frameworks – HTTP, HTML, etc – as the web, apps have the opposite technological viewpoint to the web. Apps' technopolitics are at war with the web's technopolitics. The web is built around recall – the ability to see things, go back to things, save things. The web has the technopolitics of a museum:

https://www.aaronland.info/weblog/2014/09/11/brand/#dconstruct

By comparison, apps have the politics of a product, and most often, that product is a rent-seeking, lock-in-hunting product that wants to take you hostage by holding something you love hostage – your data, perhaps, or your friends:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

When Anil Dash described "The Web We Lost" in 2012, he was describing a web with the technopolitics of a museum:

where tagging was combined with permissive licenses to make it easy for people to find and reuse each others' stuff;

where it was easy to find out who linked to you in realtime even though most of us were posting to our own sites, which they controlled;

where a link from one site to another meant one person found another person's contribution worthy;

where privacy-invasive bids to capture the web were greeted with outright hostility;

where every service that helped you post things that mattered to you was expected to make it easy for you take that data back if you changed services;

where inlining or referencing material from someone else's site meant following a technical standard, not inking a business-development deal;

https://www.anildash.com/2012/12/13/the_web_we_lost/

Ten years later, Dash's "broken tech/content culture cycle" described the web we live on now:

https://www.anildash.com/2022/02/09/the-stupid-tech-content-culture-cycle/

found your platform by promising to facilitate your users' growth;

order your technologists and designers to prioritize growth above all other factors and fire anyone who doesn't deliver;

grow without regard to the norms of your platform's users;

plaster over the growth-driven influx of abusive and vile material by assigning it to your "most marginalized, least resourced team";

deliver a half-assed moderation scheme that drives good users off the service and leaves no one behind but griefers, edgelords and trolls;

steadfastly refuse to contemplate why the marginalized users who made your platform attractive before being chased away have all left;

flail about in a panic over illegal content, do deals with large media brands, seize control over your most popular users' output;

"surface great content" by algorithmically promoting things that look like whatever's successful, guaranteeing that nothing new will take hold;

overpay your top performers for exclusivity deals, utterly neglect any pipeline for nurturing new performers;

abuse your creators the same ways that big media companies have for decades, but insist that it's different because you're a tech company;

ignore workers who warn that your product is a danger to society, dismiss them as "millennials" (defined as "anyone born after 1970 or who has a student loan")

when your platform is (inevitably) implicated in a murder, have a "town hall" overseen by a crisis communications firm;

pay the creator who inspired the murder to go exclusive on your platform;

dismiss the murder and fascist rhetoric as "growing pains";

when truly ghastly stuff happens on your platform, give your Trust and Safety team a 5% budget increase;

chase growth based on "emotionally engaging content" without specifying whether the emotions should be positive;

respond to ex-employees' call-outs with transient feelings of guilt followed by dismissals of "cancel culture":

fund your platforms' most toxic users and call it "free speech";

whenever anyone disagrees with any of your decisions, dismiss them as being "anti-free speech";

start increasing how much your platform takes out of your creators' paychecks;

force out internal dissenters, dismiss external critics as being in conspiracy with your corporate rivals;

once regulation becomes inevitable, form a cartel with the other large firms in your sector and insist that the problem is a "bad algorithm";

"claim full victim status," and quit your job, complaining about the toll that running a big platform took on your mental wellbeing.

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/18/broken-records/#dashes

The web wasn't inevitable – indeed, it was wildly improbable. Tim Berners Lee's decision to make a new platform that was patent-free, open and transparent was a complete opposite approach to the strategy of the media companies of the day. They were building walled gardens and silos – the dialup equivalent to apps – organized as "branded communities." The way I experienced it, the web succeeded because it was so antithetical to the dominant vision for the future of the internet that the big companies couldn't even be bothered to try to kill it until it was too late.

Companies have been trying to correct that mistake ever since. After three or four attempts to replace the web with various garbage systems all called "MSN," Microsoft moved on to trying to lock the internet inside a proprietary browser. Years later, Facebook had far more success in an attempt to kill HTML with React. And of course, apps have gobbled up so much of the old, good internet.

Which brings us to Cope's views on museums and the metaverse. There's nothing intrinsically proprietary about virtual worlds and all their permutations. VRML is a quarter of a century old – just five years younger than Snow Crash:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/VRML

But the current enthusiasm for virtual worlds isn't merely a function of the interesting, cool and fun experiences you can have in them. Rather, it's a bid to kill off whatever is left of the old, good web and put everything inside a walled garden. Facebook's metaverse "is more of the same but with a technical footprint so expensive and so demanding that it all but ensures it will only be within the means of a very few companies to operate."

Facebook's VR headsets have forward-facing cameras, turning every users into a walking surveillance camera. Facebook put those cameras there for "pass through" – so they can paint the screens inside the headset with the scene around you – but "who here believes that Facebook doesn't have other motives for enabling an always-on camera capturing the world around you?"

Apple's VisionPro VR headset is "a near-perfect surveillance device," and "the only thing to save this device is the trust that Apple has marketed its brand on over the last few years." Cope notes that "a brand promise is about as fleeting a guarantee as you can get." I'll go further: Apple is already a surveillance company:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

The technopolitics of the metaverse are the opposite of the technopolitics of the museum – even moreso than apps. Museums that shift their scarce technology budgets to virtual worlds stand a good chance of making something no one wants to use, and that's the best case scenario. The worst case is that museums make a successful project inside a walled garden, one where recall is subject to corporate whim, and help lure their patrons away from the recall-friendly internet to the captured, intermediated metaverse.

It's true that the early web benefited from a lot of hype, just as the metaverse is enjoying today. But the similarity ends there: the metaverse is designed for enclosure, the web for openness. Recall is a historical force for "the right to assembly… access to basic literacy… a public library." The web was "an unexpected gift with the ability to change the order of things; a gift that merits being protected, preserved and promoted both internally and externally." Museums were right to jump on the web bandwagon, because of its technopolitics. The metaverse, with its very different technopolitics, is hostile to the very idea of museums.

In joining forces with metaverse companies, museums strike a Faustian bargain, "because we believe that these places are where our audiences have gone."

The GLAM sector is devoted to access, to recall, and to revisiting. Unlike the self-style free speech warriors whom Dash calls out for self-serving neglect of their communities, the GLAM sector is about preservation and access, the true heart of free expression. When a handful of giant companies organize all our discourse, the ability to be heard is contingent on pleasing the ever-shifting tastes of the algorithm. This is the problem with the idea that "freedom of speech isn't freedom of reach" – if a platform won't let people who want to hear from you see what you have to say, they are indeed compromising freedom of speech:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

Likewise, "censorship" is not limited to "things that governments do." As Ada Palmer so wonderfully describes it in her brilliant "Why We Censor: from the Inquisition to the Internet" speech, censorship is like arsenic, with trace elements of it all around us:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uMMJb3AxA0s

A community's decision to ban certain offensive conduct or words on pain of expulsion or sanction is censorship – but not to the same degree that, say, a government ban on expressing certain points of view is. However, there are many kinds of private censorship that rise to the same level as state censorship in their impact on public discourse (think of Moms For Liberty and their book-bannings).

It's not a coincidence that Palmer – a historian – would have views on censorship and free speech that intersect with Cope, a museum worker. One of the most brilliant moments in Palmer's speech is where she describes how censorship under the Inquistion was not state censorship – the Inquisition was a multinational, nongovernmental body that was often in conflict with state power.

Not all intermediaries are bad for speech or access. The "disintermediation" that excited early web boosters was about escaping from otherwise inescapable middlemen – the people who figured out how to control and charge for the things we did with one another.

When I was a kid, I loved the writing of Crad Kilodney, a short story writer who sold his own self-published books on Toronto street-corners while wearing a sign that said "VERY FAMOUS CANADIAN AUTHOR, BUY MY BOOKS" (he also had a sign that read, simply, "MARGARET ATWOOD"). Kilodney was a force of nature, who wrote, edited, typeset, printed, bound, and sold his own books:

https://www.theglobeandmail.com/arts/books/article-late-street-poet-and-publishing-scourge-crad-kilodney-left-behind-a/

But there are plenty of writers out there that I want to hear from who lack the skill or the will to do all of that. Editors, publishers, distributors, booksellers – all the intermediaries who sit between a writer and their readers – are not bad. They're good, actually. The problem isn't intermediation – it's capture.

For generations, hucksters have conned would-be writers by telling them that publishing won't buy their books because "the gatekeepers" lack the discernment to publish "quality" work. Friends of mine in publishing laughed at the idea that they would deliberately sideline a book they could figure out how to sell – that's just not how it worked.

But today, monopolized film studios are literally annihilating beloved, high-priced, commercially viable works because they are worth slightly more as tax writeoffs than they are as movies:

https://deadline.com/2023/11/coyote-vs-acme-shelved-warner-bros-discovery-writeoff-david-zaslav-1235598676/

There's four giant studios and five giant publishers. Maybe "five" is the magic number and publishing isn't concentrated enough to drop whole novels down the memory hole for a tax deduction, but even so, publishing is trying like hell to shrink to four:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/07/random-penguins/#if-you-wanted-to-get-there-i-wouldnt-start-from-here

Even as the entertainment sector is working to both literally and figuratively destroy our libraries, the cultural heritage sector is grappling with preserving these libraries, with shrinking budgets and increased legal threats:

https://blog.archive.org/2023/03/25/the-fight-continues/

I keep meeting artists of all description who have been conditioned to be suspicious of anything with the word "open" in its name. One colleague has repeatedly told me that fighting for the "open internet" is a self-defeating rhetorical move that will scare off artists who hear "open" and think "Big Tech ripoff."

But "openness" is a necessary precondition for preservation and access, which are the necessary preconditions for recall and revisiting. Here on the last, melting fragment of the open internet, as tech- and entertainment-barons are seizing control over our attention and charging rent on our ability to talk and think together, openness is our best hope of a new, good internet. T

he cultural heritage sector wants to save our creative works. The entertainment and tech industry want to delete them and take a tax writeoff.

As a working artist, I know which side I'm on.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/13/this-is-for-everyone/#revisiting

Image: Diego Delso (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Museo_Mimara,_Zagreb,_Croacia,_2014-04-20,_DD_01.JPG

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/

[alittlebitofloveliness]

In defence of Steve Randle

Listen guys, Steve Randle gets a lot of hate in this fandom and as much as it pains me, it's valid. Everyone has their own interpretation of the source material, and fandom is supposed to be fun, so it is absolutely valid and ok to hate or love any character you want. You can hate Steve for many reasons or for no reason at all! This is fandom! That's ok! The story is for you interpret and love and play with and hate on to your hearts content. HOWEVER, to say that Steve Randle isn't an important character to the novel is simply not true, and to say that he hates Ponyboy requires ignoring or downplaying some pretty key moments of the book. This is especially true for those of you who love Dally but hate Steve, because Steve gets a lot of hate for being kind of a dickhead (which lbr, a lot of seventeen years old are, especially to their friend's little siblings) while Dally gets less for doing a lot worse (harassing Cherry, jumping kids, etc). This isn't to say that either character is better- they're both great, nuanced characters who have done bad things, but the fandoms attitudes towards them when they share a lot of characteristics is really telling. Even Ponyboy's narration about them is pretty similar- Pony doesn't particularly like Steve, and he was canonically scared of Dally, but they're both members of his gang and he doesn't hate either of them. You don't have to like Steve as a character, just like you don't have to like Dally or Darry or Tim Shepard or even Ponyboy, but he is important- and he doesn't hate Ponyboy, nor does Ponyboy hate him.

A really important moment in the book is when Ponyboy and Johnny defend Dally after he harasses Cherry and Marcia.

"Dally's okay," Johnny said defensively, and I nodded. You take up for your buddies, no matter what they do. When you're a gang, you stick up for the members. If you don't stickup for them, stick together, make like brothers, it isn't a gang any more. It's a pack. A snarling, distrustful, bickering pack like the Socs in their social clubs or the street gangs in New York or the wolves in the timber."

This line here is super important. Pony and Johnny were willing to defend Dally after he sexually harrassed Cherry and Marcia- soc girls who they clearly liked and were intimidated by- in the name of being a good friend, because that is what's important to them and their gang. If they're willing to do it in this context for Dally, you'd best believe they'd do the same for Steve, and him for them. Steve can and will rag on Ponyboy within the gang, but he'd never dream of bad mouthing him to anyone else. Dependability is important to the gang, and Steve would never publicly shit talk Pony, and vice verca. Regardless of their squabbles within the gang, at the end of the day they've got each others backs. They're buddies. We see evidence of this at the end of the book, when Pony grabs the bottle and threatens the socs with it.

"You really would have used that bottle, wouldn't you?" Two-Bit had been watching from the storedoorway. "Steve and me were backing you, but I guess we didn't need to. You'd have really cut them up, huh?"

The important thing here is that along with Two-bit, Steve was backing Ponyboy, no questions asked. Sure most of it boils down to Pony being a member of the gang and that deep rooted loyalty to one another, but the context for this scene is that Ponyboy was sitting on Steve's car waiting for Steve and Two to stop flirting with some girls. The three of them were hanging out- without Darry, without Sodapop. It's their school lunch break. We know Ponyboy has middle class friend's at school, or that he could've spent time in the school library. It was a deliberate choice to hang out with Two and Steve. He wasn't forced into it. Canonically, Steve and Ponyboy hang out. Never alone, but they're decent enough friends to hang out together in a group. Doesn't everyone have friends like that? I do. This isn't the only textual instance either where they hang out without the entire gang being present. Early on, Pony offhandedly mentions that sometimes Steve and Soda will buy him pop and teach him about cars if he hangs around the DX.

"I had walked down to the DX station to get a bottle of pop and to see Steve and Soda, because they'll always buy me a couple of bottles and let me help work on the cars."

He could've just said Soda's name here but he didn't. Steve buys Pony pepsi and teaches him about cars, even though he gets annoyed with him when Soda invites him to hang around with them too often. And honestly, who wouldn't? I'd be annoyed if my best friend always invited her little brother along with us, even if I liked the kid. Wouldn't you?

Now, we do need to address the elephant in the room. I'm talking of course, about this quote;

"I'd never tell Soda, because he really likes Steve a lot, but sometimes I can't stand Steve Randle. I mean it. Sometimes I hate him."

I feel like very often people forget the context this quote comes from, and so it's magnitude is blown way out of proportion. Ponyboy has just been jumped and then immediately scolded by his brother who constantly makes him feel foolish and unwanted. He's already scared, embarassed, and defensive and then Steve goes and makes him feel even more unwanted. Of course he wants to lash out. Of COURSE he feels like he hates Steve in that moment. I did even reading it. But Ponyboy doesn't truly hate Steve. This moment is PEAK fourteen year old having a rough night energy, it's not truly representative of Steve as a character or of Ponyboy's feelings towards him. In truth, Steve actually kind of likes Ponyboy and is at very least protective over him. This is evidence by the previous quotes, but also when Ponyboy comes back from Windrixville, and is worried about the state placing him in foster care;

"'No, [Ponyboy said] 'they ain't goin' to put us in a boys' home.' 'Don't worry about it,' Steve said, cocksure that he and Sodapop could handle anything that came up. 'They don't do things like that to heroes.'"

It's subtle, and not immediately obvious to the traumatized fourteen year old who is used to Steve's cocky nature, but this is both a reassurance and a very bold claim. Not only is Steve trying to look out for Ponyboy the way the rest of the gang models- by treating him like a kid, letting the 'adults' worry about grown up issues in a misguided attempt to protect Pony- he is also throwing in his lot to make sure nothing does happen. Based on this quote and the rest of Steve's characterization throughout the book its not hard to infer that Steve would fight tooth and nail to make sure Ponyboy stays safe with his family. Sure, part of it is gang loyalty, part of it is his devotion to soda, but part of it is because he and Ponyboy are buddies in their own right, no matter how much they fight. They are friends- and Steve is an incredibly important character for many reasons, but particularly to add depth to Pony's character, to the bond between the Curtis gang, and to highlight how the Curtis gang differs from the other gangs in Tulsa. Steve is just as much an outsider as the rest of the gang, and it's disingenuous to say otherwise no matter how much you may hate him as a character.