#but I don’t honestly believe there’s zero things to enjoy about this book

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 68 - Babel by R. F. Kuang

Overview

I came to Babel with extremely little knowledge about the actual contents of the book but a deep sense of all the vibes swirling around its reception – that it was robbed of a Hugo nomination (if the author didn’t outright refuse it), that it’s probably the single buzziest and most Important sf/f release of 2022, that it was stridently political, and plenty more besides. I also went in having mostly enjoyed The Poppy War series and being absolutely enamoured by the elevator pitch of an alternate history Industrial Revolution where translation is literally magic. And, well-

It is wrong to say I hated this book, but only because keeping track of my complaints and starting organize this review in my head was entertaining enough to keep me invested in the reading experience.

The story is set in an alternate 1830s, where the rise of the British Empire relies upon the dominance of its translators, as it is the mixture of translation and silverworking, the inscription of match-pairs in different languages on bars of worked silver and the leveraging of the ambiguity and loss of meaning between them that fuels the world’s magic. The protagonist is pluckted from his childhood home in Canton after his family dies in a cholera outbreak and whisked away to the estate of Professor Lowell, an Oxford translator he quickly realized is his unacknowledged father. He’s made to choose an English name (Robin Swift) and raised and tutored as a future translator in service to the Empire.

The meat of the story is focused on Robin’s education in Oxford, his relationship with the rest of his cohort, and his growing radicalization and entanglement with the revolutionary Hermes Society. Things come to a head when in his fourth year the cohort is sent back to Canton to, well, help provoke the first Opium War, though none of them aware of that. The final act follows the fallout of that, by which I mean it lives up to the full title of “Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution”.

To be clear, this was technically a very accomplished book. The writing never dragged and the prose was, if not exactly lyrical, always clear and often evocative. Despite the breadth of space and time the story covers, I never had any complaints about the pacing – and honestly, the ending was, dramatically speaking, one of the more natural and well-executed ones I’ve read recently. It’s very well-constructed.

All that being said – allow me to apologize for how the rest of this is mostly just going to be a litany of complaints. But the book clearly believes itself to be an important and meaningful work of political art, which means I don’t feel particularly bad about holding it to high standards.

Narrative Voice

To start with, just, dear god the tone. This is a book with absolutely zero faith in its audience’s ability to reach their own conclusions, or even follow the symbolism and implication it lays down. Every important point is stated outright, repeated, and all but bolded and underlined. In this book set in 1830s England there are footnotes fact-checking the imperialists talking heads to, I guess, make sure we don’t accidentally become convinced by their apologia for the slave trade? Everything is just relentlessly didactic, in a way that ended up feeling rather insulting even when I agreed with the points Kuang was making.

More than that, and this is perhaps a more subjective complaint but – for an ostensible period piece, the narrative voice and perspective just felt intensely modern? This was theoretically an omniscient third person book, with the narrative voice being pretty distinct from any of the actual characters – with the result that the implicit narrator was instead the sort of person of spends six hours a day getting into arguments on twitter and for this effort calls themselves a progressive activist. The identities of all the characters – as delivered by the objective narration – were all very neat and legible from the perspective of someone at a 2022 HR department listing how diverse their team was, which was somewhere between a tragic lost opportunity to show how messy and historical racial/ethnic/national identities are and outright anachronistic, depending. (This was honestly one of the bigger disappointments, coming from Kuang’s earlier work. Say what you will of The Poppy War series, the narration is with Rin all the way down, and it trusts the reader enough not to blink.) More than that it was just distracting – the narration ended up feeling like an annoying obstacle between me and the story, and not in any fun postmodern way either.

Characters

Speaking of the cast – they simply do not sound or feel like they actually grew up in the 19th century. Now, some modernization of speech patterns and vocabulary and moral commensense is just the price of doing business with mass market period pieces, granted, but still – no 19th century Anglo-Indian revolutionary is going use the phrase ‘Narco-military state’ (if for no other reason than we’re something like a century early for ‘narco-state’ to be coined as a term at all). An even beyond feeling out of time most of the characters feel kind of thinly sketched?

Or no, it’s not that the characters are thinly sketched so much as their relationships are. We’re repeatedly, insistently told that these four students are fast friends and closer than family and would happily die for each other, but we’re very rarely actually shown it. This is partly just a causality of trying to skim over a four-year university education in the middle third of one book, I think, but still – the good times and happy moments are almost always sort of skimmed over, summarized in the course of a paragraph or two that usually talk in terms of memories and consequences more than the relationships themselves. The points of friction and the arguments, meanwhile, are usually played out entirely on the page, or at least described in much more detail. In the end you kind of have to just take it as read that any of these people actually love each other, given that at least two of them seem to be feuding at any given point for the entire time they know each other.

Letty deserves some special attention. She’s the only white member of Robin’s cohort at Babel and she honestly feels like less of acharacter and more a collection of tropes about white women in progressive spaces? Even more than the rest, it’s hard to believe the rest of the class views her as beloved ride-or-die found family when essentially every time she’s on screen it’s so she can do a microagression or a white fragility or something. Also, just – you know how relatively common it is to see just, blatantly misogynistic memes repackaged as anti-racist because it specifies ‘white women’? There’s a line in this that almost literally says ‘Letty wasn’t doing anything to disprove the stereotype of woman as uselessly emotional and hysteric’.

Also, she’s the one who ends up betraying the other three and trying to turn them in when they turn revolutionary. Which is probably inevitable given the book’s politics, but as it happened felt like less of the shocking betrayal that it was supposed to be and more just, checking off a box for a dramatic reverse. Of course she turned on them, none of them ever really seemed to even like each other.

As a Period Piece

So, the book is set in the 1830s, in the midst of the industrial revolution and its social fallout, and the leadup to the First Opium War (which is, through the magic of, well, magic ,but also mercantilist economics, make into a synecdoche for British global dominion more broadly). On the one hand, the setting is impeccably researched, recent and relevant historical events are referenced whenever they would come up, and the footnotes are full to bursting with quotes and explanations of texts or cultural ephemera that’s brought up in the narration.

On the other, the setting doesn’t feel authentic in the slightest, the portrayal of the British Empire is bizarrely inconsistent, and all that richly researched historical grounding ends up feeling less like a living world and more like a particularly well-down set for a Doctor Who episode.

The story is incredibly focused around Oxford as a city and a university. There’s a whole author’s note about the research and slight changes made into its geography and I absolutely believe its portrayal as a physical location and the laws about how women were treated and how the different colleges were organized and all that is exactly as accurate as Kuang wanted them to be. The issue is really the people. With the exception of a few cartoonish villains who barely get more than a couple pages apiece, no one feels, sounds like, or acts like they actually belong in the 19th century. The racism the protagonists struggle with all feels much more 21st century than Victorian, and the frame of mind everyone inhabits still comes across more as ‘unusually blatantly racist Englishman’ than 19th century scholars and polymaths.

This is especially blatant as far as religion goes. It’s occasionally mentioned, sure enough, but to the extent anyone actually believes in Christianity it’s of a very modern and disenchanted sort – this is a society that sends out missionaries as a conscious tool of colonial expansion, not because of anything as silly or absurd as actually wanting to spread their gospel. Also like, it’s Oxford, in the nineteenth century. For all the racism the protagonists have to deal with, they should be getting so much more shit from ‘well-meaning’ locals and students trying to save their (one Muslim, one atheist, one probably Christian but black and protective of Haitian Vodou on a cultural level which would be more than enough) souls.

Or, and this is more minor, it is a central conceit of the whole finale that if a few (like, two) determined revolutionaries can infiltrate Babel they’ll be able to take the entire place hostage with barely any trouble. This is because the students and professors there are, basically, whimpy bookworms who’ll faint at the sight of blood and have no stomach for the sort of violence their work actually supports and drives. Which – look, I really don’t want to defend the ruling class of Victorian Britain here, but I’m not sure physical cowardice is really one of their failings, as a group? I mean, there’s an entire system of institutionalized child abuse in the boarding schools they went to to get them used to taking and dealing out violence and abuse. Basically every upper-class sport is thinly disguised military drill or ritual combat (okay, or rowing). Half of them would graduate to immediately running off and invading places for the glory of the queen. I’m not sure two sleep-deprived nerds with knives would actually have been able to cow the crowd here, is what I’m saying. (This would stick out less if the text wasn’t so dripping with contempt for them on precisely these grounds.)

Much less minor are our heroic revolutionaries themselves. And okay, this is more a matter of taste than anything but like – the Hermes Society is an illegal conspiracy of renegade current and former Babel scholars dedicated to using their knowledge of magic and access to university resources to oppose and undermine the British Empire in general and the work of the school in particular. Think Metternich’s worse nightmare, but in Oxford instead of Paris and focused on colonial liberation (continental Europe barely exists for the purposes of the book, Britain is Empire.) So! A secret society of professional revolutionaries in the heydey of just that, with a name that just has to be Hermetic symbolism, who concern themselves with both high politics and metaphysics.

They are just so very, very boring. This is the age of the Conspiracy of the Equals, the Carbonari, the Seasons! The literal Illumanti are still within living memory! Where’s the pageantry, the ritual, the grandiosity? The elaborate initiation rituals and oaths of undying loyalty? They’re so pragmatic, so humble, so (and I know I keep coming back to this) modern. It’s just such an utter wasted opportunity. Even beyond the level of aesthetics, these are revolutionaries with remarkably little positive ideology – the oppose colonialism and racism for reasons they take as self-evident and so don’t feel the need to theorize about it (and talk about them with the vocabulary of a modern activist, because of course they do), but they’re pretty much consciously agnostic as to what world should look like instead. They vaguely end up supporting a sort of petty-bourgeois socialism (in the Marxist sense), but the alliance with Luddites is essentially political convenience – they really don’t seem to have any vision of the future at all, either in England or the various places they claim as homelands.

On Empire and Industrialization

The story is set during the early nineteenth century, so of course the Industrial Revolution is a pretty core part of the background. The Silver Industrial Revolution, technically, since the Babellers translation magic is in this world a key and load-bearing part of it. Despite the addition of miracle-working enhancers and supports to its fundamental technology, the industrial revolution plays out pretty identically to history – right down to the same cities becoming hubs of industry, despite steam engines using enchanted silver instead of coal and thus, presumably, the entire economic and logistical system that brought this particular cities to prominence being totally unrecognizable. This is not a book that’s in any way actually about tracing how something would change history – which isn’t a complaint, to be clear, that’s a perfectly valid creative choice.

It does, however, make it rather galling that the single actually significant difference to history is that the introduction of magic turns the industrial revolution into a Legend of Zelda boss with a giant glowing weak point you can hit to destroy the whole enterprise.

On a narrative level, I get it – it simplifies things and allows for a far happier and more dramatic ending if destroying Babel is not just a symbolic act but also literally sends London Bridge falling down and scuttles the entire royal navy and every mill and factory in Britain. It’s just that I think that by doing so it trades away any chance for actually making interesting commentary on anti-colonial and -capitalist resistance. A world where a single act of spectacular terrorism really can destroy a modern empire is frankly so detached from our world that it ceases to be able to really materially comment upon it.

Like, the principle reason to not take the Luddites as your role models is not that they were morally vicious but that they were doomed – capitalism’s ability to repair damage to infrastructure and fixed goods is legitimately very impressive! Trying to force an entire ruling class not to adopt a technology that makes whoever commits to it tremendous amounts of money (thus, power) is a herculean task even when you have a state apparatus and standing army – adding an ‘off’ button to the lot of it just trades all sense of relevance for a satisfyingly cathartic ending.

(This is leaving untouched how the book just takes it as a given that the industrial revolution was a strictly immiserating force that did nothing but redistribute money from artisans to capitalists. Which certainly tracks as something people at the time would have thought but given how resolutely modern all the other politics in the work are rings really weirdly.)

All of which is only my second biggest issue with how the book presents its successful resistance movement. It all pales in comparison to making the Empire a squeamish paper tiger.

Like, the book hates colonialism in general and the British Empire in particular, the narrative and footnotes are filled with little asides about various atrocities and injustices and just ways it was racist or complicit in some particular atrocity. But more than that it is contemptuous of it, it views the empire as (as the cliche goes) a perpetually rotting edifice that just needs one good kick; that it persists only through the myth of its own invincibility, and has no stomach for violent resistance from within. Which is absolutely absurd, and the book does seem to know it on occasion when it off-handedly mentions e.g. the Peterloo Massacre – but a character whose supposed to be the grizzled cynical pragmatic revolutionary still spouts off about how slave rebellions succeed because their masters aren’t willing to massacre their own property. Which is just so spectacularly wrong on every axis its actually almost offensive.

More importantly, the entire final act of the story relies upon the fact that the British Empire would allow a handful of foreign students seize control of a vital piece of infrastructure for weeks on end and do nothing but try to wait them out as the national physically falls apart around them. Like, c’mon, there would be siege artillery set up and taking shots by the end of week two. As with the Oxford students, the Victorian elite had all manner of flaws – take your pick, really – but squeamishness wasn’t really one of them.

On Magic

So the magical system underlying the whole story is – you know how Machinaries of Empire makes imperial ideology and metaphysics literally magical, giving expert technicians the ability to create superweapons and destroy worlds provided that the Hexarchate’s subjects observe the imperial calendar of rites and celebrate its triumphs/participate in rituals glorying in the torture of its ‘heretics’? It’s not exactly a subtle metaphor, but it works.

Babel does something similar, except the foundational atrocity fueling the engine of empire on a metaphysical level is, like, cultural appropriation. As an organizing metaphor, I find this less compelling.

Leaving that aside, the story makes translation literally capable of miracle-working – which of necessity requires making ‘languages’ distinct natural categories with observable metaphysical boundaries. It then sets the story in the 19th century – the era of newborn nation states and education systems and national literatures, where the concept of the national-linguistic community was the obsession of the entire European intelligentsia. Now this is not a book concerned with how the presence of magic would actually have changed history, in the slightest, but like – given how fascinated it is by translation and linguistics you’d think the whole ‘a language is a dialect with a navy’ cliché would at least get a light mention (but then the book doesn’t really treat language as any more inherent or natural than it does any other modern identity category, I suppose.)

As an Allegory

Okay, so having now spent an embarrassing number of words establishing to my own satisfaction that the book really doesn’t work at all as a period piece, let us consider; what if it wasn’t trying to be?

A great many things about the book just fit much better if you take it as a commentary on the modern university with Victorian window-dressing. Certainly the driving resentment of Oxford as an institution that sustains itself and grows rich off the exploitation of international students it considers second-class seems far more apt applied to contemporary elite western schools than 19th century ones. Likewise the racism the heroes face all seems like the kind you’d expect in a modern English town rather than a Victorian one. I’m not well-versed enough on the economics of the city to know for sure, but I would wager that the gleeful characterization of Oxford as a city that literally starts falling to ruin without the university to support it was also less accurate in the 1830s than it is today.

Read like this, everything coheres much better – but the most striking thing becomes the incredible vanity of the book. This is a morality tale where the natural revolutionary vanguard with the power to bring global hegemony to its knees through nothing but witholding their labour are..students at elite western universities (not, I must say, a class I’d consider in dire need of having their egos boosted). The emotions underlying everything make much more sense, but the plot itself becomes positively myopic.

Beyond that – if this is a story about international students at elite universities, it does a terrible job of actually portraying them. Or, properly, it only shows a certain type; just about every foreign-born student or professor we meet is some level of revolutionary, deeply opposed in principle to the empire they work within. No one is actually convinced by the carrot of a life as an exploited but exceedingly comfortable and well-compensated technician in the imperial core, and there’s not really acknowledgement at all of just how much of the apparatus of international institutions and governments in the global south – including positions with quite a bit of real power – end up being staffed by exactly that demographic who just sincerely agree with the various ideological projects employing them. Kuang makes it far too easy on herself by making just about every person of colour in the books one of the good guys, and totally undersells how convincing hegemonic ideology can be, basically.

The Necessity of Violence

This is a pet peeve and it’s a very minor thing that I really wouldn’t bring it up if that wasn’t literally part of the title. But it is, so – it’s a plot point that’s given a decent amount of attention that Griffin (Robin’s secret older brother, grizzled professional revolutionary, his introduction to anti-colonialism) is blamed for murdering one of his classmates who had the bad luck to be studying while he was sneaking in to steal some silver – a student that was quite well-loved by the faculty and her very successful classmates, who have never forgiven him. Later on, it’s revealed that this is an utter rewriting of history, and she’d been a double agent pretending to let herself be recruited into the Hermes Society who’d been luring Griffin into an ambush when he killed her and escaped.

This is – well, the most predictable not-even-a-twist imaginable, for one, but also – just rank cowardice. You titled the book ‘the necessity of violence’, the least you can do is actually own it and show that violent resistance means people (with faces, and names, not just abstractions only ever talked about in general terms) who are essentially personally innocent are going to end up collateral damage, and people are going to hold grudges about it. Have some courage in your convictions!

Translation

Okay, all of that said, this isn’t a book that’s wholly bad, or anything. In particular, you can really tell how much of a passion Kuang has for the art and science of translation. The depth of knowledge and eagerness to share just about overflows from the page whenever the book finds an excuse to talk about it at length, and it’s really very endearing. The philosophizing about translation was also as a rule much more interesting and nuanced then whenever the book tried to opine about high politics or revolutionary tactics.

Anyways, I really can’t recommend the book in any real way, but it did stick in my head for long enough that I’ve now written 4,000 words about it. So at the very least it’s the interesting sort of bad book, y’know?

#book review #babel #r. f. kuang #sff #lesbian space atrocities #-ish #hatermode

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2023 Day 18: Lena

(Just a heads up, I won't be posting over the next few days (until the 24th at the earliest) as I'll be out of town. I hope you enjoy this one!)

ao3 fic link. series link.

Lena Luthor is nothing like Kara expects.

She’s beautiful, which Kara did know before meeting her, she’s seen photos, done enough research into Lex to know who she is, but seeing a photo and seeing her in front of her are two separate things.

She’s absolutely stunning, and Kara is having a hard time focusing on what Clark and Lena are saying.

Kara knew Lena was smart, you have to be to be CEO of a company like Luthor Corp. But she’s sharp, and witty, and clever in a way that makes Kara want to find a way to drag this conversation out, just to hear her talk more.

Kara expects lies from Lena, expects deceit, things she’s become accustomed to whenever the Luthor name is involved. Maybe Lena is just better at it than the rest of her family, but Kara can’t help but believe her as Lena speaks.

And then Lena is talking about her family and being adopted and wanting to make a name for herself outside of her family and Kara totally understands, feels it even more strongly with Clark standing by her side.

Lena hands Clark a flash drive and Kara just knows, she can feel it, that Lena is telling the truth, that they can trust Lena.

Not that she can tell Clark that, so she does something dumb, something that Clark would definitely disapprove of, something she spends absolutely zero time thinking about (which is honestly sometimes for the best) and she quickly places her notebook down on the edge of Lena’s desk. Quick enough that neither of them notice, not even Clark.

They leave Lena’s office, and Kara already maybe regrets her plan a little, but it’s too late now, because Lena has her notebook and she needs it back.

“Shoot,” Kara says as she steps onto the elevator with Clark. “I left my notebook behind, I’ll meet you outside.”

She steps out of the elevator as the doors close, leaving a confused looking Clark behind.

Kara takes a couple of deep breaths before knocking on Lena’s office door.

“Sorry, I left my-“

“Notebook?” Lena finishes, holding up the book in her hand.

“Yeah, sorry,” Kara stammers. “I’m not used to this reporter thing. Not that I’m a reporter, I was just here with Clark, which you know, so I mean…” Kara trails off, realising she’s rambling when Lena tilts an eyebrow up. “Sorry,” Kara says for a third time.

“Don’t be sorry, but I am curious as to why you left this here. Don’t think I didn’t catch you leaving it on my desk.”

Kara is pretty sure her cheeks were already red after her little ramble, but now she feels her whole face flush at being caught.

Kara takes a deep breath. Again, she’s not sure what she expected coming back here, not sure entirely what she wanted, but she may as well be honest, there’s no point in lying now. She’s embarrassed herself already, what’s a little more?

“I didn’t have a plan exactly, was more of a spur of the moment thing. But I didn’t want to leave without telling you that Clark might not believe you but I do. I’ll figure out why the Venture exploded and prove to Clark he can trust you too.”

“I’m not sure Mr Kent is very quick to trust.”

“He’s my cousin, I’ll make him see reason.” Kara hesitates. She could leave it there, but she has one more thing she wants to say. She’s never usually this forward but something about Lena feels like it’s pulling her in, and she wants to know more. “The other reason I came back is I wanted to ask for your number because I know I’d regret it if I never saw you again. I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

There’s that eyebrow raise again, this time Kara can tell Lena is surprised.

Lena picks up a pen and scribbles something on the notebook before she hands it back to Kara.

“Thank you,” Lena says, and Kara can tell she’s being sincere. “Not many people trust me because of my name, and I’ve never met anyone like you before either.”

Lena smiles and Kara feels her knees go weak.

“Have a good day, Miss Danvers.”

“You too, Miss Luthor,” Kara replies with her own smile, feeling more confident that Lena hasn’t laughed at her or had her thrown out. “I’ll see you around?”

“I hope so.”

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #supercorptober2023

[petersthree]

Okay I just cannot get Sam & Jay out of my head today and I just gotta get it out of my system but I love how much these two feel like actual friends and have such unconditional love for each other.

I feel like a lot of sitcoms I’ve seen with couples that start the show as an established ship, sometimes they unfortunately give off the vibe that they hate each other? And that’s something I honestly expected to see with Sam & Jay but they started and continue to be such a true, genuine partnership. They support one another and go all in for each other - Sam doesn’t want to sit there for hours translating for each ghost during DND but she does it because Jay is lonely and she loves him, Jay goes all in on believing ghosts are real with zero proof JUST because Sam insists that they’re real.

And like any good and true partnership, they don’t just blindly support each other, they also call each other out. Sam tells Jay how she doesn’t find any interest in DnD. At the end of the episode when Sam apologizes and plays Jay takes the apology and goes Well good because I joined your book club. Part of love is calling out when people misstep and holding those boundaries, and these two manage to do that and still continue on being loving and supportive of each other.

Obviously we don’t get a lot of subplots about their relationship but I think the Bela episode showed SO well how much they mutually love each other. There was a direct conflict there, with Sam’s secret and Jay’s family, and I think what Sam and Jay were willing to do for each other was just SO nifty to see. Because Bela was about to walk out the door if she didn’t know the truth, and to them, it was a matter of if she’d find out about ghosts and think Sam wasn’t in the right mind, or not and think Jay was a creep. And we see Sam & Jay do different things, both to protect each other. Jay loves Sam enough to let Bela walk out the door and Sam loves Jay enough to make sure that Bela didn’t.

These two love each other so much and it’s so clear. Jay knows all about the ghosts and takes active notes (and genuinely loves them and wishes he could see his friends!!), they defend each other against their bad guests, they talk about their work and their struggles and just share in their experiences. I can actually see why even with their differences, that they became friends and actually enjoy each other’s presence and love each other. And it’s just so genuinely wonderful to see because they’re just like, a silly goofy sitcom couple but also one of the most wonderful ships I’ve seen with a genuine foundation of love and I adore it so much.

#janie rambles #anyway!!!! love them so so much #I didn’t expect to get so obsessed with them when I started but here we are!!! #sam x jay #sam arondekar #jay arondekar #cbs ghosts

[drberfarious]

what none of you understand is that their hesitation and cluelessness often slows them down, which you can’t really have when disney is giving you only a certain amount of time on each episode (because time is money, and everything revolves around money, believe it or not). why even bother watching the show when you don’t like anything about it and just whine about every episode?

also, i’m sure you think you can do the show justice, but you can’t. you shouldn’t try and give advice to screenwriters, when your fanfiction lacks proper grammar.

Yeah, I know.

I would not have cared if they had to cut a few scenes to make room for their "hesitation and cluelessness." I would have understood that it was necessary. That's what I expected, actually. I think almost everyone expected that. I do care that they chose to keep almost all of them and still added more scenes and time to certain scenes, and, as a result, they hampered the action more than they needed to (at least in my humble opinion). If there's one thing I didn't expect, it was to be bored during most of the monster encounters (plus Procrustes).

The things I like (the humor and, on average, 30% of each episode) about the show are the reasons why I keep watching, so I'm not just here to whine. I do enjoy the good things in life, believe it or not. I keep watching, and do you want to know why? It's because I hope that the show can get better, so instead of sitting around being content with the possibility of missing the episode that could possibly turn the show around (and having to see the mostly unanimous joy on social media first, instead of experiencing it on my own), I've decided to come back every Tuesday/Wednesday with the hope that it will be better than last time. I was right when I sat down to watch episode 5, so why should I give up?

Honestly, considering the fact that I write all of my fics from 11pm-2am and the only thing you have to say about my fics is grammar, then I'm taking that as a compliment.

I don't think that I could do better (I'm sorry if I tend to come off as egotistical/elitist/your preferred word), as I have zero professional creative writing experience. I'm just a disappointed viewer who's making observations and making intuitive conclusions.

I'm also worried about season 2 because now that I've seen the effect of these constraints combined with Rick's insistence on rewriting the series (his changes should not have come at the cost of suspense), I'm worried that an adaptation of one of the less engaging books in the series will suffer a lot more.

Thankfully, the show has been successful in terms of money, so hopefully Disney will put more faith in the show and increase the budget. However, season 1 did have a $12-15 million budget per episode, and, on the high end, that's The Mandalorian's season 1 budget. There may be some budget mismanagement going on, and currently, I'm skeptical about how impactful a budget increase would be.

Do you like the characters' lack of "hesitation and cluelessness," or are you just resigned to this concept of the impossibility of improvement? You did say that I can't do the show justice, and your usage of "can't" implies that there is a 0% chance that I could do better: do you think that no one else could do better, or do you think that the writers and Rick just have some kind magic touch that allows them and only them to write the show properly? You also said that what I would theoretically be attempting to do would be to "do the show justice," and I'm assuming that you may have been trying to mock me and other people in the community who have criticized the show. Do you believe that the show is good enough as it is? If so, what are your reasons?

I'm sorry if this answer came off as passive-aggressive (it doesn't read that way to me, but I have been told that I am passive-aggressive) because I would actually like to see your responses to my questions.

#ask #no but like I'd actually be excited if the anon actually checked my blog and saw my answer #and then responded

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I scan the front page of Chortle every couple of days or so; I realize it’s not the best website in the world, has a bunch of flaws including its genuinely weird number of spelling errors (honestly, at this point I’m more confused about how they get away with that than I am annoyed about it, it’s a professional website, I know my own Tumblr blog is full of typos but it wouldn’t be if someone were paying me to write this shit), but it’s not a bad way to keep up with what major comedy things are going on. Usually there’s nothing interesting, but I’m just often enough alerted to some livestreamed event or some new show or comedy special or interesting bit of news to keep checking. I want to find out about new developments from somewhere, and I’d rather read a weirdly error-ridden website than start looking at Twitter regularly.

Couple of weird ones that jumped out at me today. It was mainly the usual stuff: here are the eight new comedians who’ve started a podcast in the last three days, here’s who’s hosting Have I Got News For You, here’s another update on the plot of The Windsors for some reason, here’s an interview with a guy who wrote a book that doesn’t look interesting.

But one article did catch my eye where I knew I was playing into the attention-grabbing culture war gossip by even clicking on it, but I did it anyway, and that led to something I’ve never expected to happen: I found myself agreeing with Leo Kearse. Who knew that was possible?

And now I’m giving this absolute bullshit further attention by writing about it, which I’m only justifying on the grounds that hardly anyone’s going to see this post and among those people none will care, and I just need to rant somewhere that yes, obviously Leo Kearse is right. Seriously, I believe Leo Kearse is right about something. It is ridiculous to be willing to appear on a Comedy Unleashed show, and then start drawing lines because you think some of the other performers are bigots. Not even because you can’t do one thing wrong and then still have standards – that’s fine. I enjoy some things that could be justifiably criticized as problematic; I reserve the right to dislike other, much worse things for being more problematic. But Comedy Unleashed’s entire ethos is that nothing is too problematic. That any objection to any level of bigotry is an attack on free speech. You can’t sign onto to that ethos and then still try to have principles. You can’t join something that advertises itself as being a safe space for racists and sexists and homophobes and transphobes and just general assholes, and then be surprised that there are bigots in there. For the same reason that you can’t vote for the Leopards Eating People’s Faces Party and then be surprised when people make fun of you on Reddit.

And her excuse seems to be that she’s only been in the UK for four years and didn’t know what she was getting into, which reminds me of a quote from Alasdair Beckett-King from the final episode of Mock the Week: “What I don’t get about the Kwasi [Kwarteng] thing is, he was flown back from a meeting in America [to be fired], he was talking about the IMF, and I read that he didn’t know why he was being recalled to the UK, which is weird, because I knew.” That’s my answer to that excuse. I have spent zero years living the UK, and zero years being on the comedy circuit in the UK, and I know what Comedy Unleashed is. You can’t not know that before signing up with them.

I don’t even know who this person is and I’m not about to look her up or anything, so I realize I’m writing this post from a place of maybe not really knowing what I’m talking about, but I am agreeing with Leo Kearse so it’s a weird day to be me. And I’m sorry to give this even more attention but I just need to briefly disagree with Leo Kearse, even aside from the obvious bullshit of suggesting that “misogynist” means the same as “working class”, because what the fuck, trying to equate that shit with Frankie Boyle? Claiming that Frankie Boyle’s said bad things in the past so if you don’t forgive the past misdeeds of a guy who’s currently on GB News, you’re a hypocrite if you forgive Frankie Boyle, who’s currently, you know, not on GB News. When actually, now that you bring it up, Leo, shouldn’t the left’s current veneration of Frankie Boyle be evidence that this cancel culture doesn’t exist?

It's complicated with Frankie Boyle. He’s said some absolutely reprehensible things in the past, many of which he’s hasn’t officially apologized for. He’s said he thinks some of the things he used to say were wrong. He’s called them “indefensible”. And he’s stopped saying things like that. He’s talked at length about his thoughts on the responsibility of comedians to think about the harm they cause, and how he tries to do that in ways he didn’t before. But he hasn’t officially apologized.

Personally, I think that’s worth more than an apology; anyone can do the spectacle of an apology, but he skipped the spectacle and just started doing things differently. Having said that, I realize that could be a weak defense for how much I like a guy who said reprehensible things and hasn’t apologized. I’m not 100% confident that it's a good enough defense. But I like him despite not being okay with everything he’s ever said, and doesn’t that knock down all the outrage about cancel culture? If the left were out there canceling anyone who’s ever said anything wrong, Frankie Boyle would be done. In reality, the only people who’ve canceled Frankie Boyle are the conservatives in 2009 who couldn’t handle someone showing insufficient respect to the queen’s pussy, and the BBC in 2023 that, I’m not saying his political views were a factor, but if they were, then that wasn’t leftist outrage doing the cancelling.

You can’t have it both ways, guys. Either the leftists are unforgiving machines that will cancel anyone who’s ever made a mistake, or we’re massive hypocrites who will forgive the past misdeeds of people we like while unfairly condemning the past misdeeds of others. Or, maybe there’s a fucking difference between the past misdeeds of a guy who went on to use his platform for what Frankie Boyle does these days, and a guy who’s currently on GB News.

Fucking hell, this post has now taken up a little over a page in my Word document, I am genuinely sorry for letting terrible people take up this much of my attention (or at least sorry for admitting to it, normally if I’m going to hate read/watch things I have the sense to not post it on a blog), but while I’m already at this I may as well do one more. There’s another article on Chortle’s front page with the headline: Heckler throws pint at comedian's head, to which my first thought was, “Wow, that is damning indictment of the behaviour of post-lockdown audiences, what a terrible thing to do.” Then I read the name of the guy it happened to, and my first thought was, “Oh, that guy probably deserved it.”

In my defense, at the time I was picturing someone keeping the glass in their hand, and just throwing the beer onto him. I then actually watched the video, and yeah, okay, that was really fucking dangerous and not even that guy deserved that. I mean, fuck that guy. Honestly, fuck that guy. He is the absolute worst. This might be the most I have hated someone about whom I know so little. I have heard him talk for two hours in total – one hour on one podcast and one hour on another – and my God, he is the absolute worst. It’s honestly impressive how many different types of the worst he managed to be in only two hours. When I heard him talk to Stuart Goldsmith, he sucked so much that not only did I hate him, I also lost respect for Stuart Goldsmith for the crime of liking him, even though I’d really liked Stuart Goldsmith.

But yeah, don’t throw glassware at people. It occurred to me that he seems like the type of guy who might stage that for publicity, this is the first time I’ve seen his name on the front page of Chortle, but then I watched the video and that would be one hell of a risk if it were staged. It barely missed him, if he’d been a split second slower at dodging he’d have had injuries that were much too severe to be worth getting on the front page of the Chortle website for one day. That’s criminal assault. It’s telling that he cut out of the video of whatever he said to piss the audience member off so much, and I can easily imagine that whatever he said was very bad, but don’t commit criminal assault even if someone is the absolute worst (note: I’m talking about small-time comedians who say shitty things on stage, violent protests against massive corrupt systems and the people who create and run them are a different thing). Don’t make martyrs of terrible people. For the love of God, don’t make me agree with both Leo Kearse and David McSavage in one morning. Come on. Don’t fucking do that to me.

...Thank you for your time, I will now go back to trying not to give my energy or attention to this sort of bullshit, and if I do, at least trying not to admit it too often on a public blog, because I know that only makes it worse.

[jamscandraw]

😭🌌🎙️ for Haku and 🌟🔪💘 for Zero please!

😭 CRYING - what makes them cry? do they cry easily?

Not much tbh, Haku is a pretty stoic person. Losing one of his “brothers” would be the only sure fire way to make him cry

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

Honestly I can’t remember for Haku? I think I just liked the idea of the three-colour split in the hair as a fun design choice, and then reverse engineered a quirk that could fit that aesthetic. I also wanted something intentionally a little bit OP to distance him from the other kids in the class

🎤 MICROPHONE - are they good at singing? what is their go-to karaoke song?

Haku does not sing lol. He would have to be physically dragged up to the front to sing karaoke and even then he’d only mumble along to the words of Don’t Stop Believing is someone else was up there with him belting it out (looking at you Mika)

🌟 GLOWING STAR - what do they think about when they look at the night sky? is there someone they want to star gaze with?

Zero would think about the girl in his class with literal stars in her eyes and think about how much he’d like to be enjoying the night sky with her 👀

🔪 KNIFE - how do they react to injury / misfortune befalling their loved ones (significant other, family, friends)? do they put themselves at blame?

Zero is usually able to stay pretty calm and pragmatic when someone gets hurt, directing others in how to assist and usually being the one to signal for help, but if it’s his fault it’s a different issue. He knows his quirk is a danger to others so if anything goes wrong with it and someone gets hurt he isolates himself and becomes very avoidant and quiet

💘 HEART W/ ARROW - what traits do they look for in a relationship? do they believe in love at first sight?

Someone fun, affectionate and shares at least some of his interests. He might be swayed by a pretty face but for obvious reasons appearances are not that important to him, and he would want a partner who also doesn’t judge a book by its cover

#ask meme #ask me about my ocs #haku mitsugumi #zero rei #made not born #my ocs #replies

[eyrieofsynapses]

Ah... huh. Redemption 2′s trailer is out. I... wish I could be as excited about that as I was for season 1. (Absolutely zero spoilers for the trailer beyond. I haven’t watched it and won’t for a while.)

*sigh* I started a post to explain fully, but it quickly went in a sour direction that I’d rather not go. Here’s the basics instead.

I’ve not seen The Jackal Job or anything past it. (The job just prior to Jackal was, I believe, alright, but most everything else was, ah... bittersweet at best, very bitter at worst.) Do I need to? Yeah. Do I want to? ...no. Not really.

I will be fully honest here: I have not much liked Redemption so far. It butchers Eliot and Parker’s characters and fails to properly maintain the tone of the original show, among other things. There are valid reasons for why it doesn’t work so well. I do adore Breanna, and I do like Harry, and I love Hardison and Sophie’s development. There are good things. But I cannot bring myself to enjoy it.

So, here is my current situation:

I’d much prefer to finish Redemption 1b before I watch the second trailer, and I refuse to fully judge the show before I’ve seen all of it, because that’s unfair. But I also don’t want to waste time getting pissed off when I have a lot of other things to do. (Among them is getting to the Mandalorian-centric bits of The Book of Boba Fett and various other Star Wars shows, for the sake of a good friend who’s dying to chat with me about them. But there’s also a not-insignificant stack of papers that desperately need to be done.)

I’m going to have to figure out when I’m going to sit down and watch them (and how not to spend half or more of the time muttering angrily under my breath). I cannot say for sure when that’s going to be, and I can’t say for sure when I’ll be able to post about Redemption. So... please be patient with me if you want to see me talk about it.

And I’ll say this--if all I have to say is “fuck this,” I’m not going to say much at all. I have no intentions of ruining anyone else’s day by dumping on it (or starting arguments). I’m really hoping that isn’t the case. I’m really really really hoping it isn’t. But it might be.

In regards to the second season: I’m absolutely not dismissing it out of hand. Heck, I honestly think it’ll be better, because they’ve had time to figure out what they could improve, Aldis Hodge has hopefully been able to do more with them (I’m not sure about that but I‘m hoping), they’re not filming in the heights of a pandemic (not that it isn’t still here, but to a significantly lesser degree), and the writers’ room has had more time to sort themselves out. (Also, I’ve made a point of not getting involved in Redemption spoilers, but I’m given to believe that Maria is out of the picture and that will make me very happy.)

TL;DR: I’ve not finished 1b and I can’t say I’m going to do it soon, or that I’ll enjoy it. But I do have hopes for the second season, and I will get to it sooner or later. Just... probably not that soon.

#leverage redemption #leverage redemption negativity #synapse talks #blog update

[taterturnspages]

IN A JAM BOOK REVIEW

Genre(s): Fiction, Romance, Contemporary

No spoilers, but does include description of events in the book that are not inherent to the plot

STAR RATING: 2/5

SPICE RATING: 3/5

SYNOPSIS:

Shay Zucconi, a Bostonite kindergarten teacher, has a tulip farm fall in her lap after her step-grandmother dies. Shay’s inheritance of Twin Tulip is conditional on two requirements. First, Shay has to move to the small town of Friendship, Rhode Island. Second, she has to be married within one year. 

This comes troubling to Shay, as she was about to say ‘I do’ in a few short hours when her ex-fiancé called off the wedding. Shay is not comfortable even thinking about marriage right now. However, she finds herself more uncomfortable with the thought of her only real childhood home belonging to someone else.

Noah and Shay formed a deep friendship during their time in high school. To Noah, it was more than just a friendship. He loved her deeply in high school, but he was terrified of confessing his feelings to the beautiful popular girl when he was too awkward to even string coherent sentences together.

Noah has his hands full running the family farm, several associated businesses, and raising his niece. Love is the furthest thing in his mind, except when Shay shows up in Friendship, Rhode Island and turns his life as he knows it upside down. 

READ THIS IF YOU:

Don’t mind miscommunication between hero and heroine

Enjoy cozy farm/cottage vibes

TROPES:

Grumpy x Sunshine

Marriage of convenience

Second chance

Small town romance

CHARACTERS:

Shay Zucconi:

Shay is a fun-loving, quirky kindergarten teacher that everyone seems drawn to. She genuinely seems like the life of the party, and it makes a lot of sense why she was the popular girl in high school. Shay quite literally puts the ‘sunshine’ in the ‘grumpy x sunshine’ trope. Shay had an extremely shaky childhood and it seems like those issues follow her into adulthood. After her ex-fiancé left her at the altar, those issues were really put under the spotlight. All things considered, Shay isn’t a bad person by definition, and she may even be likeable at times. However, her coping mechanisms were absolute trash. After Xavier called off the wedding, it was mentioned on several different occasions (several different days in book time) that Shay would drink away her sorrows during the day and would avoid any and all responsibility. To me, this seems like alcoholism even on a minor level. I’m sure the author didn’t intend this, but I could not shake the feeling that Shay was coping with stress and sadness by getting day-drunk and trying to romanticize it as if that isn’t a big deal?

Also, Shay is supposedly thirty-something years old. I honestly never would have guessed that if her age was never mentioned in the book. The way she handles problems, inconveniences, and communication with others screams immaturity. I realize that Shay has deep-seated childhood trauma and those actions in her adult life are trauma responses; which is obviously devastating and terrible, but now that Shay is well into adulthood, it is her (and only her) responsibility to resolve that trauma to make sure that she doesn’t hurt anyone in her life as a result. Shay frequently mentioned ill-feelings about her childhood, yet there is zero mention of her getting help, or considering getting help, for those problems.

Lastly, Shay repeatedly reiterated that her ex-fiancé meant nothing to her and anything bad that he said about her went in one ear and out the other. But that is abundantly untrue. Shay spent a large percentage of this book replaying the words that Xavier said, taking them to heart, and even genuinely believing them. To make matters worse, Xavier reached out to Shay asking to meet up with her in person after several months of no communication. Shay threw herself at this opportunity after she claimed to be invested in Noah and had feelings for Noah. Homegirl…if that really is the case, why are you crawling on your hands and knees for the trail of crumbs that your ex is giving you?

Like I said in the beginning of Shay’s character analysis, she is likeable at times. Her personality flourishes and she surely has a heart of gold. It really is hard to not like her, but for purposes of reviewing this book, I feel like I have to mention her extreme flaws.

Noah Barden:

It doesn’t take much for me to fall in love with the hero of romance books. The bar for fictional men is in hell in all honesty. But I strongly considered DNF’ing this book solely because of Noah Barden. Let’s get into it, shall we?

Noah is the kingpin of Little Star Farms and despite all of the headaches that come along with farm life, he seems to really enjoy his occupation. Before returning to Friendship, RI to take over the family farm, he was a big-shot lawyer in New York City. Noah brings both blue-collar and white-collar traits to the table, which is immensely attractive to me…usually.

To put it lightly, Noah is downright insufferable. He has the emotional intelligence and emotional maturity of a pond pebble, and he happily admits that in this book as if he is proud of that. Again, I never would have guessed that he is thirty-something years old. My absolute largest issue with Noah is that he takes the ‘grumpy’ trait a little too far. On top of that, he is physically incapable of communicating his feelings, so Shay believes for a very long time in this book (literally up until the last fifty pages) that Noah despises her. Honestly, I thought so too.

Did I say that was my absolute largest issue with Noah? Actually, I changed my mind. The real problem at play here is Noah gives off MAJOR narcissistic vibes. I’m sorry, but I feel qualified in saying that because I endured the wrath of two different narcissists in my life for several years. For example, Noah only ever did “nice” things for Shay when other people were watching. I have two examples of this (because there were only ever two scenarios of him doing nice things in the book): 1) Noah brought Shay homemade baked bread on ONE occasion, conveniently the ONLY occasion that Shay had company at her home in Friendship. Noah claimed to not be aware of her company, but they are literally neighbors. I’m sure he saw the vehicle in the driveway that was not hers. 2) He baked her a homemade cake and cooked dinner for her on her birthday, ONLY AFTER Shay’s best friend (Jaime) threatened Noah with the mafia if he didn’t do exactly that for her birthday. I’m not convinced he would have done anything for Shay’s birthday if Jaime didn’t ask him to, to be honest.

The cherry on top of all of that, is that Noah never ONCE talked about, let alone executed, a date with Shay. And the absolute monstrosity of it all, is that Gennie (Noah’s niece in his care) who is S I X  Y E A R S  O L D had to tell Noah to take her out on a date once in a while. Like, are we actually sure this man is thirty-something years old? And I’m supposed to believe Noah had feelings for Shay?

Again, Noah was insufferable. Regardless of if he’s attractive or not, this man has the personality of a wet mop on his best day. It felt like I was supposed to congratulate and romanticize Noah for doing the absolute human bare minimum. I refuse to do that. I truly don’t think I have one good thing to say about him, because every word out of his mouth seemed fake and never ONCE did his words match his actions (except for when he wanted to get freaky with Shay, only then was he the all-mighty communicator and sweet-talker). Narcissist.

Gennie (Imogen):

Gennie is the daughter of Eva, Noah’s sister. After Eva finds herself in trouble and is sent to jail for life, Noah becomes Gennie’s legal guardian. Gennie had a rough life before Noah, which is obvious from her mannerisms and defense mechanisms. I genuinely felt bad for Gennie and the trauma that she endured at such a young age, she didn’t deserve any of it. The issues I have with her are really reflections of Noah’s parenting style, because Gennie is just a kid at the end of the day, so I don’t think it’s appropriate or fair to give a negative character analysis on her. Gennie’s entire personality revolves around swearing in every sentence she speaks and possessing an alter-ego of a pirate. It was cute and funny in the first few chapters, but after there was essentially zero character development for Gennie (other than Noah briefly mentioning that “Gennie is doing much better in school” during the last couple of chapters) it began to get exhausting and (quite frankly) annoying. I felt like Gennie was failed in this book and I wanted so much better for her.

PRAISES, CRITIQUES, AND MY THOUGHTS:

With all my reviews, I praise the positives first and rail the critiques at the end. Don’t expect a lot of praises here, but there are some. For starters, I loved that Shay had a strong circle of friends that supported her endeavor to drop everything and run after her childhood farm. Shay’s friend group was everything she needed them to be, and they tried their best to kick Shay’s bad habits to the curb.

Second, and lastly, I loved the setting for this book. Friendship, Rhode Island is the small town us readers crave. The hometown football games, the seasonal festivals, and the cozy vibes of a weekend farmer’s market had me wishing I lived in the New England farmtown.

But not all glitter is gold, as they say. My problems with this book far outweighed the positives. I felt no chemistry whatsoever between Noah and Shay. Perhaps it was the fact that Noah constantly spoke in past tense about the ‘high school Noah and Shay’ as if he’s forgetting that they are now fifteen years past high school and both Noah and Shay have changed so much since the teenage versions of themselves. Noah made no attempt to get to know present-day Shay, and the only information he had about her was what he could see with his own two eyes and what Shay willingly told him without Noah asking. Shay made more attempts to get to know Noah, albeit they were weak and not frequent attempts.

And the spice scenes??!???!!! Are you kidding me? Reading those scenes felt like I was reading a story about two people who stumbled home drunk from a bar and were having a one-night-stand with no intentions of ever speaking to each other ever again. The way Noah treated Shay during their time under the covers felt borderline nonconsensual, ESPECIALLY during one of their last spicy moments when Shay was literally crying. It was abhorrent to read and at times, made me physically ill and made me cringe until my skin fell off. The chemistry was simply not there romantically. This truly felt like a story about two rekindled friends who made a friends-with-benefits pact (there’s nothing wrong with that, but I’m supposed to believe that these two people love each other??). 

One of the “terms” of Noah and Shay’s “relationship” was to keep Gennie out of it, because Gennie had endured enough confusion and disappointment in her lifetime. But, as I expected, they did the exact opposite of that. Noah and Shay placed Gennie almost perfectly in the middle of their problems. So much so that Gennie literally ran away from home out of fear and insecurity that Noah and Shay would have a baby and forget all about Gennie and stop caring about her. Noah claimed that he was focused on Gennie and that she came first, but that is clearly another bold-faced lie to make Noah seem like the perfect parent. Poor Gennie just moved in with Noah less than a year ago, so clearly she is not ready for any more changes. With Shay’s tendency to bolt when a slight inconvenience arises (and Noah is aware of this) I am SHOCKED that Noah let Gennie get strung into the crossfire. But also, I’m not shocked because Noah has a terminal case of tunnel vision and lacks all self-awareness.

I honestly could keep going, but I feel like I’ve defiled this book enough to get my point across. The sole reason that this was not a one-star read for me is because I give books that I DNF’d a one star. I rarely ever DNF books and in order for me to do so, the book has to be downright awful or offensive. In no way was this book either of those things, but I still had a tough time getting through it.

I can’t say that I recommend this book, but I know it’s extremely popular. I scrolled through Goodreads after finishing ‘In a Jam’ and I scrolled for a good couple of minutes before I found a negative review. So, maybe it’s just me? At any rate, do your research on this book and don’t say I didn’t tell you so if you end up hating it.

#romance books #in a jam #kate canterbary #contemporary romance #book review #book blogger #bookstagram #romance reader

[jeff-from-marketing]

So... tabletop roleplaying games, they’re pretty good!

As tempting as it is to just leave the post there and refuse to elaborate, I actually do want to talk about ttrpgs, both in general as a hobby but also some specific systems. Why? Because fuck you, this is my blog and I’m going to continue to make that your problem, that’s why! As will become the norm, I make absolutely zero promises on cohesion or this making sense. You have been warned.

So yes, ttrpgs are pretty great! It’s a wonderful combination of escapism, and just doing some silly shit with friends, and for my autism brain it’s great because the rules of the world actually make sense! Usually at least, but I may or may not get to that. Real talk, I genuinely believe that for most people there is some style of ttrpg for you out there. Obviously not everything appeals to everyone, and that’s okay, but there’s so many different styles of play and so many different systems to play that there’s a good chance there’s something out there for you. It goes far beyond just Dungeons and Dragons.

Though I guess that’s probably something worth talking about. I mean to be fair it’s hard to talk about ttrpgs without talking about Dungeons and Dragons specifically, as it’s kinda the “face” of the hobby. Heck, it’s the one I started with many years ago, and to be fair it’s much easier to go “hey, wanna try out D&D?” as opposed to any other system, just due to the sheer presence it has in popular culture. For something that’s somewhat a niche hobby, it’s actually fairly impressive come to think of it. But there’s some elements of D&D (and Wizard of the Coast’s handling of it) that kinda makes me wish it wasn’t the face of ttrpgs.

To preface: if you enjoy D&D fifth edition as it is, keep enjoying it! Do not let anyone shame you for what tabletop games or similar that you enjoy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still grateful for D&D for getting me into the hobby, without D&D and the sheer staying power it has I probably wouldn’t have gotten into the hobby to have some good times. But, especially with the trajectory it’s taking, it’s hard to go “but why are you like this” sometimes. For starters, man does WotC absolutely fucking hate DMs and supporting them at all. Not only does basically every supplement they release lately seem to be almost entirely player focused, to the point of some books being like “I guess here’s some rulings for the main draw of the setting, but you probably shouldn’t use them,” but even the prewritten adventure modules (y’know, the things meant explicitly to make a DM’s life easier and give them something to run out the box) require so much work and messing around with to get to an even functional level. The prewritten modules for D&D 5e give the person running the damn thing very little to actually work with, and basically mandate that the DM effectively do WotC’s job for them and just finish writing the other half of the module before you can run it. Compared to something like Pathfinder Second Edition, where Paizo gives you basically any detail you could possibly want when it comes to running a module, and it’s kinda shameful honestly. Especially since the DM is the most important part of playing a ttrpg. Without a DM, you have no game. And yet knowing this, WotC seem to shaft them at every turn. 

I suspect this is a part of why it’s so hard to find a DM for tabletop games. Even ignoring the fact that it is definitely a different style of play than being a player, if their only experience of DMing is with either incomplete materials or having to write out huge chunks of the adventure (potentially to just set that writing on fire later) then I don’t blame them for not looking forward to doing it more. I know that doesn’t apply to everyone, and that many DMs absolutely love making up entire campaigns, but that shouldn’t be the default expectation of someone coming into the hobby. They should have something they can fall back onto. 

Making matters worse is WotC’s latest approach to lore and worldbuilding. Namely, their stance of “there can’t be controversy if there’s nothing that can be controversial!” They have been on one heck of a warpath to gut out as much existing lore of their setting as possible, with entire chapters now simply just being a vague paragraph or two instead. Exemplifying this behaviour of “no lore = no controversy” is the controversy with the Hadozee, a race introduced in one of the newest (at the time of writing) books that had some questionable lore (with what little it had). Instead of addressing this in any way, WotC’s response was to simply delete the offending segment and swipe it under the rug never to be spoken of. Again, not a problem for those who would rather make their entire world to begin with, but it absolutely sucks for a newer player or for someone who would rather have a world to get immersed into out the box. Compared to so many other ttrpg systems like Cyberpunk, Lancer, and Pathfinder, all of which are so rich and full of life and a lovingly detailed setting, D&D just saddens me. I mean sure, the Forgotten Realms were never my favourite setting of all time, but it was at least a setting that had a decent amount of fleshing out and things to work with. Now there’s basically nothing, but not so little as to be truly setting agnostic. 

And I’m not even going into other issues like martial classes being incredibly dull, spellcasters overshadowing everyone, the action system being difficult to balance around, etc.

I guess what I’m getting at with all of this is: D&D has a lot of power to wield, and I feel like it’s squandered. It doesn’t look after DMs at all, making them more likely to burn out if they’re not interested in massive amounts of worldbuilding, and even players it does a poor job of catering to sometimes. Sure, most people may not even realise this when first getting into it, but that almost makes it worse. 

But like I said earlier, D&D is not the only system in the world. I myself have largely moved onto Pathfinder 2e for my fantasy fix as it does many of the things I wanted from D&D. Though they are very different games, I probably wouldn’t recommend Pathfinder to players new to the hobby since there’s a lot more rules covering a lot more things, and it is a bit crunchier, but that’s also why I like it myself. I like the crunchy rules for my autism brain. Plus all the rules are available for free, and oh my god it’s just so gay and full of actual rep... I may have to make a separate post on it. If you want more sci-fi, there’s also Cyberpunk for, well, cyberpunk dystopia, or there’s Lancer if you’re more into giant mechs. I could have whole rants onto those on their own... and I may do that if I feel like it.

But holy shit this has already gone on too long. Let me reiterate: if you enjoy D&D 5e and don’t feel the need to change, then keep enjoying it. The hobby is a lot of fun, and there’s many ways to have that fun! And hey, it’s still the easiest way to get people into the hobby, and if you’re like me who’s a bit jaded on it then it works as an excellent gateway drug to go “well if you like that, wait until you try this!” 

#ttrpg #holy shit I typed way more than I thought I would #someone please take this power away from me for the safety of us all #send help

[wingsandembers]

It’s 2021, we’re in a pandemic for almost a year now, it’s okay to enjoy a smut filled fantasy novel without overthinking it. That’s what nesta does.

#nessian #acosf #nesta archeron #acosf spoilers #I’m very critical of sjm #hello if you don’t know that you’re probably new here #but after the teasers and the first six chapters were leaked #like honestly the book turned out not as bad I thought it was going to be #my expectations were low I guess #and I get rants get more notes than merely saying I liked it especially in this fandom #but I don’t honestly believe there’s zero things to enjoy about this book

[thebibliosphere]

There’s a youtuber I watch, I won’t mention her cause I don’t want people giving her shit in the comments (not that I think most of you would, but y’know, it’s the Internet) and she’s recently got on this really... anti-tech bend in which she is referring to her enjoyment of cell phone usage as an “addiction”. And while for sure being constantly wired and “on” is harmful, especially doom scrolling twitter, the things she is describing doesn’t sound like addiction to me, but rather ADHD brains seeking dopamine feedback. And honestly? Making broad, sweeping comments like “cell phones are so harmful, and if you can’t just sit still and be present in the moment you have an addiction” is... making me very uncomfortable.

Like, you want me to pay attention to something? Sure, I can do that. For limited amounts of time. You want my sustained attention for hours? Not gonna happen. Unless I’m hyperfixating, nothing is going to hold my attention span for hours on end. And generally speaking, people enjoy the initial upswing of my fixations, but they don’t enjoy the prolonged outcome of me neglecting to self care for eight hours straight because my brain decided this is the only thing I’m going to focus on to the point where I forget to eat, drink, sleep, or even go to the bathroom. So when people tell me they want my undivided attention, I like to tell them they really don’t.

What I can give you however, is a rational amount of attention with the aid of things like stim and fidget toys to keep my brain from wandering for the duration of whatever we’re doing. Sometimes that can even look like scrolling mindlessly on my phone. Speaking personally, most of my attention will be on what you’re saying. I’m just giving my brain background noise to focus on while I actually process what you’re saying/doing.

And you know what? Learning to both do this and accept that I need to do this and I’m not a horrible person for not being able to 100% focus unaided, has been actively helpful and healthful for my mental health. I get fewer ADHD meltdowns, which yeah, can occur with both over stimulation and under stimulation as well. 

My brain needs some of that instant gratification because it’s dopamine starved. And what might be a problem for some people, and I genuinely believe it is... Making these sweeping statements about addiction, which is a very serious mental health issue, and making it part of your “I shun technology” spiel you’re on while running a business through YouTube is... not as sincere as you perhaps hope it is. But of course, it’s the shunning of technology as evil, so the comments are just filled with “god, you’re so right, we should all go back to before we had smart technology”, inevitably posted from an iphone with absolutely zero self awareness or sense of irony.

And then when I brought up ADHD and neurodivergency in the discord it was liked I’d just asked “who wants to kick puppies?!” and ended up muting the thread because it was easier to peace out than listen to the whole “you don’t have ADHD, sweety, you’re just highly sensitive” bullshit that is becoming more and more common in these types of groups.

Idk, the whole thing just... rubbed me the wrong way. Especially because the things she were labeling as “signs of addiction”, said in such a scandalized manner, were actually hallmarks of what I now recognize as neurodivergency. And while addiction is a major problem with ADHD—specifically with unmedicated and undiagnosed individuals who have been forced to try and rectify their lack of dopamine on their own—shunning what are honestly harmless coping mechanisms is not going to help those people. 

So you check twitter while watching TV. So what? Oh, you checked your phone ten times a day? So what? Is it actively harming you? Is it harming your mental health? Are you doom scrolling? Is it harming those around you? Are you idealizing Instagram too much and putting yourself down? Then yeah, those are bad. Maybe work on that. 

But also maybe consider you might just blaming the phone for other problems in your life you’re not addressing cause it’s easier to blame technology than it is to even consider for one second you might have ADHD.

Idk. Thanks for coming to my rambling TED talk. I’m off to read a book while listening to a podcast about a different book.

#adhd #rambling #long post

[darling-i-read-it]

Hug

Pelle x reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Danis grief and the things that come with that (crying, heaviness) 

Author’s Note: this was not on my list of things I wanted to write and yet 

I feel held by him okay 

Summary: You and Pelle meet through Dani and Christian (man I suck at summaries) 

Song: Run by Hozier

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

Dani liked you. She liked you a lot. You made her feel sane and that helped her in more ways than one. She liked the fact that you would always listen to her and tell her that she was right, even when she was wrong. She liked that your eyes never once flitted away from her when she spoke. She liked that you understood her grief in a way that most people would never try to. 

She almost had no desire to introduce you to Christian. She loved Christian, she really did, but you didn’t need to meet her boyfriend. 

Dani thought, even though you did appreciate her that you would never understand the way that he loved Christian. Maybe she didn’t even understand it. 

In any event, she wouldn’t be able to explain in an adequate way. 

But still, you pushed.

You were hanging out with her, in her room. She was walking around the room numbly, trying to understand why her head never seemed to be wrapped around the room when people were speaking. A sorrow was still hanging over her. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked. You were sitting on her desk, watching her anxiously pace back and forth. 

“No.” She stopped walking. “I’m sorry, that was blunt.” You shook your head. 

“Don’t worry about it. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want,” you told her evenly. Dani walked up to you and sat down at the chair in front of you. She felt a little more clear headed with you. It helped to be around people sometimes. Tears started to well up in her eyes but she quickly shook them away.

“Christian has been distant lately. I don’t know how to tell him I still need him without being...needy,” she said, avoiding your eyes.

“He should understand.” You gave her a narrow look and she sighed. 

“Yeah yeah. I know you wanna meet him.” 

“I just wanna learn about this guy who supposedly has absolute zero ability to read his girlfriends moods.” She sighed.

“You wanna meet him? Alright. You can meet him. But his friends will probably be there and if you don’t wanna-”

“I’d love to meet his friends as well. You can tell a lot about a person based on the company that they keep.” 

====

“This is Y/N. Y/N this is Christian, Mark, Josh and Pelle.” You shook their hands, a kind smile on your face. Mark eyed you for a second longer than he should have and you weren’t sure how to feel about them as a whole. A very basic group of boys that may not be all that they seemed. You were all at Christians place which was dirty. Clothes were on the floor and most of his books were strewn around. There was food on the kitchen counters. 

You ignored your initial thoughts and waved slyly.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you all.” Truth be told, you didn’t know much about any of them but Christian. You barely knew their names to faces. 

“You’re the only friend of Dani’s we hear about. You go to school here too right?” Josh asked. You nodded.

“Yes. It’s how Dani and I met.” Your eyes looked around the four of them and surveyed their expression. The man at the end, Pelle, had a very neutral and soft looking expression on his face. You admired him immediately. 

But you ignored that so that you were able to assess Christian better. 

“Now Christian, I think it’s about time I teach you how to treat your girlfriend,” you teased gently and the guys raised their eyebrows. Mark patted Christians back.

“She’s got her guns out. How are you going to respond?!” Mark asked loudly. Christian was laughing and so were you but you had been serious. He was a terrible boyfriend. If they had classes on how to be a decent boyfriend, you would force him to take them, for Dani’s sake. 

“You’re Dani’s friend which means you are my friend,” he said finally. Your lips twitched and you nodded slowly. “Can I offer you anything to drink?” 

“No, thank you though.” Dani sat down at the living room area and the boys quickly followed. Her and Christian were on the love seat, Mark in one of the chairs and you, Pelle and Josh on the couch. You were sitting beside Pelle on the left. 

He smelled good. 

“How is school treating you?” he asked. You turned to him, pleased to hear that his voice was as soothing as he looked. He had an accent you couldn’t place - you were hopeless with accents. 

“Well! At this rate, I should get through finals with only a few scratches here and there,” you told him. 

You could hear that Mark had asked Christian a question and they were having a conversation off to the side. 

“How about you?” you asked.

“Good, just about as good as you. I wonder, maybe if we have any teachers in common,” he suggested. You nodded. 

“It’s entirely possible. What are you studying?” 

“I’m in the Anthropology department.” 

“We may overlap. I’ll have to check your schedule.” 

Dani gave you a look but your eyes were not on her. She couldn’t distinguish what you and Pelle were saying because your voices were so calm while the other boys were booming. She was only a few feet away and still...whatever you were laughing about was lost on her.

====

You didn’t stay long. Dani and you had to get back so that you were able to study for finals. And by that, it was usually you studying with her in the room so she had someone to keep her in check. You didn’t mind. 

“You and Pelle seemed to get along well,” she noted. 

“I was there to make sure Christian seemed like a decent human,” you told her. 

“And?” You thought about it for a moment and she was right. You had talked to Pelle almost exclusively. 

“Pelle was really nice,” you conceded. She laughed gently. At least you were able to be honest with her. 

“I think he likes you. He’s a Swedish exchange student, if he didn’t tell you.” 

“That’s where the accent is from! It was bugging me. I was about to start speaking to Google,” you said laughing. She rolled her eyes playfully.

“You could have just asked him.”

“I didn’t know if it was inappropriate!” 

======

You ran your hand through your hair as you walked around your little apartment. It had about everything you could ever need and you loved it. Dani was sleeping on the couch you had managed to squeeze in. 

There was a knock at your door. 

You checked the clock on the wall and furrowed your brows in confusion. It was still pretty early in the day. You had to go to class soon.

You opened the door and Pelle stood in front of you, a kind smile on his face. 

“Pelle! What a nice surprise,” you whispered. He looked confused as to your whisper and you opened the door enough to show Dani sound asleep. He nodded understandingly. 

“I hope this isn’t inappropriate,” he said, in the same hushed tone.

“No, no. Although I do have to go to class soon. What is it?” You leaned against the doorframe.

“I thought our conversation the other day was really nice.” He paused for a minute, thinking over his words. You waited patiently. “I would like to take you out for coffee.” 

You were a bit surprised that he had come all the way to your apartment to tell you that. You assumed that Christian had given him the address. He had it so he knew where Dani was, she had given it to him. 

“I would like that very much. Although, you could have just called,” you said smiling.

“I prefer in person. I think it’s more personal.” You nodded but turned around, grabbing a pen off of your desk. You grabbed his hand and scribbled your number onto his palm.

“For when you want to tell me where to meet you.” He smiled and nodded once, pleasantly. 

“Until then.” 

“Until then.” 

====

Pelle called you that night to tell you where to meet him for coffee. You were pleased and excited. Dani woke up the next morning when you were getting ready to leave. It was Saturday so you didn’t have any classes to attend and you figured you were due a break from studying. 

“Where are you going?” she asked groggily. You cleaned up your bed and turned to her on the couch.

“I have a coffee date,” you said honestly. 

She raised her head up off the pillow and rubbed her eyes.

“Oh?” You nodded, fixing your hair in the mirror. You looked yourself over and nodded nervously at yourself. You looked good. You hoped it wasn’t too much for just a coffee date. “Care to share who it’s with?” 

You sheepishly looked at her through the mirror. 

“Pelle,” you said quietly. She laughed heartily. It was the first time you had heard her actually laugh in weeks. 

“Pelle?” 

“Yes. Go back to bed. I’ll probably be back before you get up.” She laid her head back down. 

“Have fun at your coffee date!” she called but her voice was muffled by the pillow. 

====

“Yes! I told Dani that but she doesn’t believe me. I don’t know, I think maybe we’re all a little too hard on her.”

The coffee date was going swimmingly. Pelle was funny and he was also able to give you good advice. You were amazed at his kind heart.

As for his feelings for you, he loved you. Dani had spoken about you and your kind heart before but he never thought you would be like this. He never thought he would love you this much so instantly. You were charming and honest and there was some quip left in you. He admired your qualities and was pleased to find that you liked him as well. 

He could never be sure but he thought you may like it back at his home. 

“You’re being a very good friend. Better than most,” he said honestly. He reached a hand forward and laid it on your hands which were sitting on the table. Both of your cups were empty. You looked down at his hand on yours and attempted to suppress your emotions. 

“Thank you Pelle.” 

You moved your hands apart so they were holding his hand between them. He smiled a bit, sheepishly. 

“I really enjoyed this.”

“I did as well.” 

You were very pleased to hear it wasn’t one sided. 

You both stood up and started for the door. His hand still held yours. It was within walking distance of both of your homes but in opposite directions. Before parting he turned to face you. You smiled up at him, trying your very hardest to not let him know how much you had enjoyed the date. 

That was when your phone rang. Your smile fell and you had to know who it was calling. 

Dani. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t worry. I will wait.” 

You picked up the phone and put it to your ear.

“Yes?”

“I-I need you.” She was crying. She didn’t like to ask for help so this must have been serious. You nodded stiffly.

“I will be there in a couple minutes. Hold on,” you said kindly. You hung up the phone and turned to him. “Dani needs me, I’m sorry.” He shook his head and before you could say another word, he was hugging you. 

You had thought he might kiss you but this was almost better. It was almost for sure better than a kiss. His arms engulfed your body and held you tightly. He was wearing a soft sweater and it felt so nice against your face. He smelled like herbs and trees. You hugged him back, tightly. He had his hand on the back of your head and he gently kissed your shoulder. 

He pulled away ever so slightly and kissed you softly. You had to pull away to smile. 

“I’ll see you soon Pelle.” He nodded and you were about to walk away when he strengthened his hold on you. 

“Mark, Josh, Christian and I are going to take a trip back to my home in Sweden for the summer. Dani will likely be invited too. Would you like to come?”

#pelle x reader #midsommar imagines #pelle imagines

[contorted-curruptions]

*-Mug Shot-*-Poly KiriBaku X reader-*-part one-*

Note: Surprise Saturday, I got carried away with the story and thought it might be best to section it off in two parts so you’ll be getting this one and another post tomorrow peeps, I hope you enjoy my first attempt at a story like this one. Smut is not in this one so if you are looking for that you’ll find it tomorrow, until then please feel free to enjoy this. Also all characters are aged up and the time the story takes place is when they are already pro heroes, so keep that in mind.

=============================================================

Running, running, the sound of bare feet harshly pounding across the hard surface of the ground below. The pavement cold and merciless on your bare feet, you feel the damage from all the running with no shoes.  As you run the sound of your terror echoes out across the soundless night, the streets so empty, not like how they usually are in the daytime. Not a soul will hear you and if they do it’ll be a little too late. It’s dark and only the street lights give you any semblance of where you are going. You hear and feel your heartbeat pounding away in your chest, that feeling becoming more painful with each pound. You feel yourself falter a bit more but you can’t afford to stop, can’t afford to stop running even for a minute. You know they have to be hot on your tail, know they won’t waste time in giving chase once they know you have fled the scene, that most horrifying scene that you left behind. The images flash through your mind as you ran churning your stomach and bringing fresh tears to your eyes. You stifle a sob but that makes your chest clench most painfully but worst of all in this panic while you turn into an alleyway you haven’t noticed the glass scattering across the entrance of the alley. Though you become sorely aware of it once your feet make contact with the shards causing you to let out a scream at the pain shooting through the fresh wounds the glass makes. You wind up tumbling to the ground, you scuff up your hands and knees as you make contact earning more painful noises from you. You fell unceremoniously on the ground in a small heap. Those sobs you kept in achingly inside your chest burst out and you howl out, hot tears now streaming down your face.

For a moment you lose your resolve while you lay there in that heap on the pavement. The pain from all the running through the city catching up with you. Your breathing erratic and you are finding it hard to catch the breath that you lost during this chase. You feel dizzy, your entire body aching in agony, and for this time all you can focus on is the sheer panic coursing through your entire form. You need to get up, need to, have to, you can’t just keep lying like this out in the open, they’ll find you. Another surge of adrenaline gives you the energy you need, you rise to your feet and start running again. You are ignoring the pain in your feet and in other areas of your body which is over-exhausting. You’re Focusing on what is dead ahead of you, a building that looks abandoned. You can focus on much of anything else except the idea of escaping, the idea you can hide and rest a moment. Though, you have to wonder what you are going to do. You can’t run forever and you doubt hiding will do you much good either. No, not when facing off with two pro heroes who are much more experienced than you. Two pro heroes and friends you never had thought until now would have done something like this in the first place and no one else will believe such a claim either. No one will convict two heroes that have done nothing but good. 

These thoughts alone left you feeling alone, so very alone. Who do you turn to in a time like this one? Who will even believe you? You, a simple book store clerk and hobbyist selling random things for fun? You are what most would call a nobody, just another face in the crowd, which is why you have to wonder what wound you up getting mixed up with these two in the first place. However, this is no time to think about that. There is no time to be drudging back into the past when what you need to focus on is finding a solution to your problem. A solution that doesn’t come easy or seemingly at all. The alarm of this chase slowly starts to dull into confusion as to why you haven’t been hearing anything from the two who should be hunting you down right now. You haven’t even seen a glimpse of either of the two males you figure are after you currently. Everything quiet and dark, not a sound, not a peep, nothing. You pause your running once reaching the abandoned building and making your way inside. You pant and groan, your lungs and everything else feeling like they are on fire. You place your hands on your knees and take in a deep gasp of breath before coughing loudly. You are choking and gasping after all that running, that dizzy feeling coming back to you. You stumble to the wall and lean against it, you in this tiring state slide down not caring about the filth on it or the ground under you, and there is trash along with other more grimy looking things all around, nonetheless at the moment, you choose to ignore it. Your body too worn and your mind still scattering about too much to really mind it all. All you need is to breathe, that is all you can think, you need a moment. Maybe if lucky, they aren’t chasing you after all. You can only hope that is the case yet you can’t be too certain so you know you can’t linger for too long.

“Fuck...fuck...it stings damn it…why…?!”

You curse under your breath finally starting to feel the glass in your feet you didn’t bother to remove before. You are fearful to even look at the bottoms of your feet right now, you can only imagine how torn up they must look currently, The blood. Looking off you can see the small trail leading to you.  You let out a small whimper as you raise your hands to look at them. They too sting badly from falling a few times before. Looking them over it seems they have been torn up pretty badly. A few rocks rest under the skin now, you poke at the bloody and bruising flesh trying to scoot a rock from under the flesh to get it out only to hiss from how it feels to do so and once more curse.

“Damn it…stings...”

You say in a whimper as you move to curl up into yourself, more tears start to cascade down your cheeks, that tight feeling in your chest returning.

“(BF/n), oh god...what am I...?!”

You curl up and start sobbing the images of your beloved’s corpse chard and beaten to a pulp on the floor creeping into your brain, it once more causes you to feel sick. It makes you want to vomit. The smell, the sight, the screaming before all that, those are things you know you’ll never forget. All of them tear you up inside, this is all your fault after all if it weren’t for taking on that project for the two pro heroes you wouldn’t have been winding up here, would you?

It had been a simple day, one like any other, the sky was bright and sunny dotted with a few clouds which you had remembered you stared up at that day. It was very nice unlike tonight, cold and unbearable regardless you remember you woke up beside your lover then. Your boyfriend had given you a good morning kiss like always ever since you had moved in together. Honestly, you hadn’t been in that house together all that long, only a couple of months but those moments spent together had been a dream. A dream you hadn’t wanted to wake up from. You would both get up and get ready to go to work. That morning you showered together, you both got a bit frisky that morning. You and your boyfriend would make out tongues danced together while your arms would be wrapped around each other. You could feel how well your bodies fit together. 

Hard to believe that is all over now, that lovely little dream with your boyfriend dead, as dead as he is now. You will never feel that perfect fit with him again. Knowing that sends another wave of pain through you and causes another sob to echo out from your chest as you shiver and wish for the warmth of your lover. Right now you feel more cold and alone than ever before.

Continuing that trip down memory lane, you could recall you left the house alone that day. Your boyfriend would take his car to work and you would walk, being that you didn’t live that far away from the book store which you work at. You can’t help but think that years ago you wouldn’t have seen yourself working in such a place and it’s not because you don’t like books more so you have problems dealing with people. It fills you with a lot of anxiety to deal with things most days. Honestly, you feel you might have just wasted away if it wasn’t for your boyfriend who always seemed to have your back when you needed it. What are you going to do now that he is gone? Are you going to spiral out of control? No, somehow you will stay strong for his sake. 

Regardless, continuing on. The day moved forward normally nothing seemed out of place, not even the random email you had gotten when you came home. The email was another commission for a project by another faceless person. You didn’t know that this request would wind you up in deep trouble later, in that deep trouble now. The commission seemed all too normal. The client wanted something special done for an anniversary gift for their boyfriend which seemed very cute to you. Really you sort of like hearing from the clients more than most do. The theme was simple it was to be a Red Riot and Ground Zero themed item or rather mugs. They wanted it to be a bit flashy or at least the art on them to be, it was something you could do, Honestly. Despite not being that into heroes, you were happy to do this for the client. You love making things and even more so making those who enjoy your work happy. So like with any other client you got to work after you sorted through the details, and actually, you were very excited. This was something you could do with your boyfriend, he was much more into the whole hero thing than you were and still are. Funny enough your boyfriend did like those two in particular. They were heroes that he very much enjoyed so that day you learned quite a lot about the pair of heroes in question.

The project went on as normal and with your newfound information, you made the gift extra special. You wanted to be very specific to the client’s taste so you tried to ask questions however they seemed very lax about everything they had said that they trusted your judgment. You didn’t mind this one bit. You had given the client updates and he seemed to like them. Eventually, the day came for the project to be done and you shipped them out. You had been very proud of your work and even your boyfriend was. Actually, Your boyfriend had got all pouty, he wished he could keep them which you had found funny then...what you would give to be able to hear him laugh again, to see that smile, and now that was stolen from you.

For a long while, things seemed alright, there had been no word from the client. However, you had been paid so you assumed they were happy with what they had gotten. It wasn’t until a full two months later that things started to kick off again. The day had started normal enough, you made it to the bookstore on time, and would work as you normally would. That day was quiet, not many customers, and most of the day spent slacked off with your coworker while doing what needed to be done around the store. Though at some point the bell on the door would sound it would call you back to the front of the store. A young man with crimson red spikey hair and eyes was the one who sounded the bell when he walked in. Upon further inspection your eyes would widen you would form a recognition with the redhead in the store, it was the hero Red Riot. You couldn’t help but stand there dumbfounded.

“H-Hello and welcome to Nook Books, how can I help you?”

That had been what you said when you finally had found your words, your voice had come out in a bit of a stutter and you had given him a small nervous laugh. He responded to your more shy behavior with merely a smile and offered up an adorable laugh of his own, which actually eased your own anxiety towards the situation at the time.

“Hey there, yeah I could actually use a bit of help finding a book.”

You would smile at the young hero and gave a small nod, you of course were always happy to help the customer, and there was no exception then either. Not to mention you were face to face with the hero Red Riot and at that time you had been oh too excited to be in his presence for the fact you could tell your boyfriend about the encounter. Maybe if you were lucky you could get an autograph, or maybe at least a picture, though to be honest you also hadn’t wanted to bother him so you so it was just a debate in your mind. you at the time though knew it would make your boyfriend happy if you would get it.

“Ah yes, well I’m happy to help, what book are you looking for?”

You would offer up one of your best smiles and try not to fidget too much however you had already shifted to and fro a bit out of nervousness already.

“Ah well, haha, I kinda don’t know…”

You would blink a moment in confusion but nod a moment before you responded.

“You don’t know? Are you buying for someone else?”

You would question a moment, you thought maybe his mind had been on someone else when he thought of the book he wanted, it might have been a gift if he wasn’t sure what kind of book he was on the look for however just as well he might just not had been sure what type of book he needed for himself, but something told you it wasn’t for him, you had a felt that way anyway.

“Haha, yeah, it isn’t for me, though he’s very special to me, he’s a bit difficult to buy for sometimes. Do you have any books that would be more action-packed and manly?”

You had smiled when you listened to his explanation for who it was for and even giggled when you heard what exactly he was had been in search for. There were many, many books on hand that could cover what he wanted but with so little given and that he said the other was difficult to buy for well it seemed like a slightly daunting task. Even so at that time you were determined to find the perfect book for this special someone that he had talked about. You smiled and worked very hard, you asked specific questions to try and get a better gauge on what type of book to get. If only you had known what you had been dealing with back then you wouldn’t have worked as hard as you did to make him happy. You wouldn’t have been as pleasant to him, but sadly you hadn’t known and you had been as positive and polite as possible. You even asked more than you would have given your normal comfort zone. You had tired yourself out on one customer something you wouldn’t usually do, but you wanted to impress the male. You wanted to make sure someone like him left very happy. You did manage that, you got him the perfect book, after you found that book for him you brought him over to the register to check him out.

“I think that book will make him smile, and if it doesn’t feel free to hold me accountable.”

You would chirp out as you rang up the book, you had a good conversation with the young hero. He’d even told you his name which was interesting to know. Kirishima seemed to talk about Ground Zero. Of course, it was said they were good friends so you supposed that was only natural, and he’d mentioned a few other interesting aspects about himself which had tickled you to learn about. It wasn’t every day you could have said you got to talk to a pro hero.

“Don’t worry, I trust your judgment, I don’t think you’d steer me wrong haha.”

You would nod and laugh as you placed the book in a bag and told him how much the book would be, Kirishima would pay you and you would hand him the bag, of course surprisingly he didn’t rush off after that, he would stick by the counter a moment.

“Before I go, would you like an autograph or something?”

He had given you a big grin and you would blink, you had held back and tried not to ask because you hadn’t wanted to bother him and there he asked you about what you had wanted from him, almost too eager you lept at the opportunity.

“Y-Yes actually I’d love that, my boyfriend is a big fan.”

At the first part of your statement it would seem that Kirishima was very happy to hear what you had to say but as you look back on it now you realize that he had twitched lightly, he had made a small change in his facial expression that said something else when you mentioned your boyfriend, you thought nothing of it back then but now it was very apparent that he was upset to hear you were with someone and that the reason you wanted a picture and autograph was because of him and not because you were a fan.

“Yeah? Alright then, glad I could help you make his day like you made mine.”

After that, you would get to pose with him for a picture and he would sign a piece of notebook paper for you, it was the only thing you had on hand at the moment, but he happily signed it for you. You also hadn’t noticed that he looked for more reasons to make conversation with you but your coworker interrupted and him unlike your boyfriend wasn’t very fond of heroes so he could care less that one was in the store other than the fact it meant that the store might get a good review from someone who mattered.

“(Y/n), I need you to do something for me in the back.”

Your coworker would speak up, you could tell from the tone of his voice he just wanted to hurry things along.

“Oh, I don’t want to keep you. It was nice to meet you, (Y/n). Hopefully, I’ll see you again.”

With that Kirishima had given you a small smile and wave before he made his way to the door.

“Yeah, you too, have a lovely day, I hope the person you were buying for enjoys your gift!!”

You would call back to him before he fully left, you hadn’t thought about how he used your first name, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t then, which would come to be a mistake later, many things would lead to being mistakes you couldn’t have fathomed being so problematic. After that meet with him, you had continued work only to be nagged by your coworker about doing your job in a timely fashion which irked you quite a lot but you hadn’t let it ruin your day. Like you assumed your boyfriend would be over the moon to see the autograph and to see the picture you had been so pleased to see his smile, that night was one to remember, Your boyfriend had been so excited he made love to you. Part of you doesn’t want to remember that part, only because it’s yet another thing that you will never have from him again, and giving the current situation, you find it inappropriate.

Suddenly you hear a loud bang echo out, a growl and cussing from not too far away from where you are in the building. Your heart begins pounding in your chest, it looks like those who were chasing you after you had fled are finally here to collect you. Your breathing picks up and you move scrabbling to your feet. If you stay here they’ll find you for sure, that is all that you are thinking about, you need to escape and now.

“Where the fuck are you (Y/n)!! I know you’re fucking here, can’t hide forever idiot!!”

#Kiribaku #Bakukiri #yandere #Xreader #fanfic #boku no hero academia #boku no hero x reader #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #my hero x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo #bnha bakugou #bnha kirishima #kirishima #kirishima eijirou #poly #part 1 #death #murder #twisted love #obsession #love #horror #dark #running #hiding #flashback #sad #boyfriend

[hazzasgayvodka]

Panty Thief - Harry Styles

So this is kind of a trial run for this fic, I’m inclined to make this a series but I’m not sure how the response to it will be. I have lots of ideas for more parts to this but only if it’s what the people want haha. Here is my belated Valentine’s Day gift to all you lovelies I hope you enjoy this heavy daddy kink/dom harry fic I’ve been working on for ages!

p.s. everyone say thank you Nathan for giving me lots of smut inspiration this is literally based on him sorta 

pairing: daddy!harry x oc

warning: sexual content, smut, daddy kink/dom vibes so if you’re not here for that this is not for you

word count: 5k

In which Harry is a new student at Harley’s university and he seems to just keep popping up everywhere. The tension between them is palpable and she can’t get away from him, especially when he happens to knock on her door with a pair of her favorite red lace panties she left in the laundromat dangling from his finger. 

I roll my eyes as the lady in front of me in line takes out yet another handful of coupons from her purse at the checkout counter. The cashier looks almost as annoyed as I am, but still sporting a smile despite the absolute exasperation rampant in her eyes. She takes the handful of coupons and starts scanning them begrudgingly as the woman digs around in her purse for anymore and I hardly even notice my foot tapping as my eyes instinctively roll once again. I just came to get toilet roll, ice cream, and a bottle of prosecco and the universe decides today is the day coupon Karen ends up at the checkout line five minutes before I do.

“I like your hair.” A voice speaks up behind me.

I know they must be talking to me, I don’t believe any other boring college blonde in this line warrants a compliment like that but the bright purple curls I sport tend to elicit quite the reaction from bystanders, especially the uninteresting conservatives of Publix.

“How do you uh, get it that color?”

I finally turn my head over my shoulder to face the voice, a tall guy with tousled brown hair and quite the shit eating grin on his face. He’s obviously very pleased with himself finally getting me to turn around but I can’t be bothered to entertain this excited puppy of a man with more than a word.

“Dye.”

I’ve barely even gotten the word out of my mouth before I turn back to face the cashier with an uninterested eyeroll. He scoffs behind me, clearly not giving up that easily.

“Wow,” He chuckles, “At least you’re straightforward.”

I turn back around without thinking to face him once again, “Hair dye, idiot.”

“Oh, well I could have guessed that much.”

I turn away from him again just as coupon lady finally pushes her rattling cart towards the exit doors and the cashier gestures for me to come up to the checkout. I drop my basket on the conveyor belt with a thud and she rings it up quickly, sensing my impatience and clearly wanting to get me the hell out of here as quickly as she can. I pay and grab my bags to head for the door and just before I’m home free the voice is suddenly behind me yet again.

“So, are you really not going to tell me?” He asks, catching up to me outside, “It’s going to keep me up tonight, I’m waiting with bated breath over here.”

“Tell you what exactly?” I huff, finally turning to face him.

“How you get your hair that color, of course.”

I roll my eyes, surely, he’s not keeping this bit up for the sake of hitting on me in the fucking supermarket, “Do you want something from me?”

He chuckles a bit, and I’m glad to see my utter frustration is amusing to him, “I mean,” He starts, rubbing the back of his neck, “Maybe your name would be cool.”

“No thanks.”

“Well, I’m Harry-“

I turn and walk away before he’s barely got the sentence out of his mouth. What was he even in line to buy? He wasn’t carrying any bags.

Mental note: always wear headphones to the grocery store.

 ***

“You’re late.”

I collapse in the seat next to my friend Danielle with a huff. She gives me a certain look that says something like you’ve been late the past three times too, but honestly at this point she should know to expect it.

“I’m always late,” I groan, attempting to lean back in the incredibly uncomfortable library chair, “So, why are we at the library?”

“We have a math test tomorrow, or did you forget about that?” She asks, scolding me over the top of her math book.

“Of course I remembered,” I say sarcastically, “Math is my absolute favorite subject how could I ever forget we had a test?”

She rolls her eyes, turning her book to the right page to start taking notes and I try my best to follow along, “So do you have a legitimate reason for the lateness or just regular Harley excuses?”

“Actually, I do,” I say matter-of-factly, sitting back up straight in my chair, “There was a freak at the grocery store, dude would not leave me alone.”

“What was he doing?” She asks, suddenly interested.

“Just talking? I guess? He like wanted to have a whole conversation waiting to check out.”

“So, a nice guy just struck up some conversation with you at the store and that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes,” I huff, closing the book once again, “I was just there to get groceries I didn’t need the extra human interaction.”

She opens her mouth to reply but she’s cut off as a group of guys walk in the front door of the library talking at full volume. I can feel almost every person in the room turn in the direction of the loud noise at the front and suddenly my eyes land on him. There’s no fucking way.

“Dani,” I whisper, sliding down in my seat so I can go unseen, “Dani that’s the guy, the guy from earlier.”

“What?” She whispers harshly, trying not to stare as the boys get scolded by the librarian at the front, “You mean grocery store guy?”

“Yes!” I huff, electing to sit in my chair backwards so my back is to him.

“No way Harley, it just looks like him-”

“No Dani, it’s him,” I whisper, “Tall one with the curly hair in the black hoodie.”

“That’s him?” She asks, “You had a problem with that talking to you?”

“Shh!” I huff, “God he’s going to hear you, are they still at the front?”

“They um, yeah,” She stutters, her eyes diverting to her book again, “They’re still up there, at a table now.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask, sensing the discomfort in her voice and turning around myself.

My eyes immediately lock onto his and I look away quickly, shielding my face from him with my hand and turning back towards Danielle.

“He’s staring right at you.” She says, trying not to be too obvious.

“Yep.”

“Are you gonna go over there?”

“Why would I do that exactly?” I ask, my eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“Because a hot boy is staring you down across the fucking library!” She whispers harshly, reaching over to smack me in the arm.

“More like a fucking psychopa-”

“Hey there,” I hear his voice cut in and my whole body cringes in on itself without my volition, “Fancy meeting you here.”

I turn around in my chair, forcing myself to face him while my whole face heats and I’m sure I’m the color of a rather ripe tomato. Something about the way he says hey there in that fucking accent makes my entire body tense up.

“Hey there,” I mimic, “Long time no see.”

I feel Danielle’s eyes on me as the words come out of my mouth, her gaze flickering between the two of us and watching the horrifically awkward exchange play out in front of her.

He laughs, electing to lean on the table, “What are you doing after this?”

“She’s doing absolutely nothing.” Danielle answers for me and I kick her under the table, making her wince.

“Glad to hear it,” He grins, his eyes zeroing in on me once again.

“I’m very busy actually,” I cut in, closing my textbook and throwing it in my bag, “We both are, but um, I’ll see you around.”

Danielle is looking at me with eyes the size of dinner plates as she frantically packs up her stuff, shoving it in her bag to follow suit. I stand up from my chair, slinging my bag over my shoulder and he rounds the table to stand right in front of me, the only thing between me and the front door.

“Can I at least get your name?” He asks, his voice incredibly deep clearly for only me to hear.

“Harley,” I quip, side stepping around him, “See you later uh, Harold is it?”

He gives me a very particular look as I walk away from him, taking steps backward and relishing in the smirk on his face. He knows what I’m doing. I feel Dani’s hand grab my arm and I finally turn around to face the door, walking through it, but even as I’m outside and carrying my feet down the steps I feel his eyes on me, drilling into the back of my head.

“The hell was that?” Danielle asks, “He was so cute and you just, you just blow it like that?”

“Harmless flirting.”

“You call that flirting?”

“Oh Dani,” I sigh, taking out a cigarette and lighting it between my lips, “I call that winning.”

 ***

I’m woken up with a start when I hear the loud roar of music start from Dani’s room. She always blasts music in the morning while getting ready for class. I look over my shoulder to check the time, at least she waited until 10 to start with the noise. My head is pounding ever so slightly, and I realize why when my eyes land on the empty bottle of pink Moscato on my bedside table.

I drag myself out of bed and into the tiny common space between our two rooms, “Good morning sleeping beauty,” Danielle teases, “I noticed the bottle of wine went missing from the fridge.”

“That’s bizarre,” I joke, “Must be a wine thief in the dorms. I’ll get on that mystery right away.”

She shakes her head at me, rolling her eyes as I grab my basket of laundry from my room. I slide on a pair of slippers electing to go put it in the wash, so I hopefully have a single clean pair of jeans for class tonight. I call to Dani letting her know I’ll be right back and as soon as I open the door to the hall I’m staring at him.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I groan.

He stops dead in his tracks, taking a glance over his shoulder to see me standing in my doorway. He’s dressed in only a towel, holding it closed while it hangs low on his hips. His hair is wet, clearly making his way back to his room from the showers and his chest and arms are rippling with muscles under his damp skin.

God those arms could crush me like a grape.

“Morning neighbor,” He grins, clearly getting a kick out of this, “Someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?”

“You’re in this building?”

“You bet, room 7C down the hall.”

“Well, neighbor, for future reference, most people in this building take their clothes to the shower with them.”

“You Americans,” He chuckles, starting to walk away from my doorway, “So prude, have a nice day Harley.”

He disappears down the hall and then behind his door and my mind gets to work on picturing what he looks like without the towel. You can nearly feel the tension between us in the air, it was palpable. I could even feel his eyes on me, looking me up and down and lingering on my lips. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to clear my head as I take a deep breath and start on my way to the laundry room downstairs.

I put a load in the wash, briefly tuning into the dramatic soap playing on the tiny TV hung on the wall. I decide to head back to my now empty room since Danielle left for class and end up wasting most of my day away on a bad Netflix original movie, only pausing half way through to go move my clothes to the dryer.

I order a pizza for dinner before my night class and go back downstairs to grab my laundry out of the dryer. Just as I’m opening the dryer and emptying my clothes back into my basket I get a text that the pizza guy is downstairs waiting for me.

“Shit, shit, shit.” I huff under my breath, quickly shoving all my clothes in my basket and slamming the dryer shut behind me.

I rush back to my dorm, chucking the basket of clean clothes inside before heading to the stairwell and nearly sprinting down them to get to the ground floor. I meet the rather impatient pizza guy downstairs before bringing the food back up to my room. I’ve just barely finished the first slice half way through a Criminal Minds episode when there’s a knock at the door. I groan, dragging myself from the couch and tossing the blanket off.

I open the door, rolling my eyes, “Dani, you have got to start remembering your key when you-” I’m cut off as I come face to face with him rather than Dani, “Oh, um, hi?”

“Hi,” He repeats, now dressed in a pair of grey joggers and a plain black t-shirt, “I believe you dropped something in the laundry room earlier.”

He reveals his arm from behind his back, holding out his hand with my bright red lacy thong dangling from his pointer finger. I can feel my entire face heat to match the shade of my panties, but I won’t let him get the satisfaction. I go to snatch them from his hand, but he stops me, gripping them in his fist instead and using them as leverage to pull me a bit closer to him.

“Probably want to be a bit more careful where you leave your panties lying around, darling,” He smirks, “Unless you want to leave them on my bedroom floor of course.”

It’s the final straw, those few words spoken in his deliciously deep voice absolutely dripping with that amazing accented tone, on top of the way he’s dressed, every muscle visible beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. I don’t know what I’m doing until I’m pulling him to me by my own grip on the lacy underwear between us, my mouth meeting his and his teeth instantly biting my bottom lip between them.

“Yours or mine?” He breathes out, pulling away from me just long enough to get the words out.

“Where’s your roommate?” I ask breathlessly.

“Vacation,” He says, “Till Wednesday.”

“Yours,” I laugh, pressing my lips back to his, “Definitely yours.”

He walks me backwards down the hall to his dorm room, shoving me up against the wall as he unlocks the door, his lips working down my neck. As soon as the door is open he walks me through it, bending down to grab the backs of my thighs and hoisting me into the air. He kicks the door closed with his foot and I laugh against his mouth as he carries me past his bedroom doorway, slamming that behind us as well.

He lays me out on the bed, nearly tossing me right on top of the mattress, my lacy red underwear still gripped in his hand.

“Any chance you got something this cute under there?” He chuckles, holding them up in both hands to really show them off.

“Why don’t you come find out?” I tease.

He rolls his eyes, finally kneeling onto the edge of the bed and crawling over to me. He starts to lean over me, but I shove his shoulder, forcing him to lay against the mattress before swinging my leg over him. I can feel him underneath me immediately and it makes my legs clench together on either side of him.

“Hi,” I breathe, planting my hands on his chest and meeting his eyes.

“Hi,” He repeats back to me, that bright smile of his making my stomach flip, “You gonna come down here or...?”

“Oh, shut up,” I laugh finally leaning down and connecting our lips once again.

His lips are ridiculously soft against mine while the feeling of his muscles under his t-shirt are quite the opposite. He reaches up to cup my face with both hands, trying to somehow pull me closer as if we aren’t close enough as it is. I can’t figure out exactly where I want to put my hands; his shoulders, his biceps, god, in that amazing curly hair.

My hips start to move against him without my volition and he groans into my mouth, a deliciously deep reverberation that makes me grind my hips into him even more. He grunts against my lips, finally pulling away and resting his forehead against mine instead, breathing heavily.

“You alright there tiger?” I tease him, threading my fingers through his hair, “Need a breather already?”

“Shut your mouth,” He chuckles, grabbing me around the waist and trying to flip us over so he’s on top.

He greatly underestimates the size of his twin dorm bed when he does so, both of us rolling off the edge and tumbling to the shag carpeted floor beneath us. I expect the mood to be ruined, for him to get up and usher me right out the door because how awkward is this, right? I’m beyond surprised when he starts laughing, both of us splayed flat on our backs and heaves out a sigh as he rolls over to face me again.

“That was pretty smooth of me, eh?” He jokes, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

I shake my head, chuckling too, “No I’m okay, just gonna have a massive bruise on my ass most likely.”

He laughs again, finally pulling himself to his feet and offering me a hand to help me up. I’m not sure what I expect past that, maybe a hug to send me on my way now that the atmosphere has completely changed but that tension is still between us, the same tension that’s been building since the moment he said a single word in the supermarket.

The second I’m back on my feet he shoves me onto the bed and I can’t even begin to hide the shock in my features. He’s back on top of me in seconds, his lips pressed to mine and I’m sure the surprised whimper that leaves my mouth fuels his ego to the gods.

“You alright there tiger?” He mocks, and I resist the urge to reach up and slap him.

“Careful.” I quip, pulling away from him to meet his eyes.

“Careful?” He asks, quirking up his eyebrow at me, “I’m sorry are you telling me what to do sweetheart?”

I gulp, the smooth but stern voice he’s using making my thighs quiver. He seems to notice, his eyes darting down between us and a small chuckle escaping his lips. He looks back up at me, his eyes dark and brooding, before they flicker to my hands at my sides. He grabs my left wrist roughly, holding it above my head against the mattress before doing the same to my right arm as well. I’m nearly squirming underneath him, my entire body steaming to the touch as his eyes bore into mine.

“Something wrong, love?” He asks, the condescending tone to his voice making my whole body shake.

“Course not,” I pant, my breath coming out heavier than I anticipated, “Just fuckin peachy over here.”

He chuckles a bit, his grip on my wrists growing tighter, “You’re not very patient, you know that?”

I’m not sure what it is that’s making me writhe the way I am; perhaps it’s the countless months I’ve gone without sex since my last messy breakup, or maybe it’s the way in which this all panned out with a stranger over some fucking underwear, or fuck, maybe it’s just him and the way that cocky smirk on his face makes my insides twist.

“Patience is a virtue,” I say carefully, making sure to keep my tone even, “I’m more about vices.”

His left hand releases my wrist and I prepare myself for his hand reaching where I need him most, sucking in a breath between my teeth and letting my eyes flutter closed but it never comes. My eyes peel back open to see his hand hovering over my neck instead. He meets my eyes before his fingers finally grace the skin of my throat, applying just the slightest bit of pressure almost as if to test the waters.

I’m nearly dizzy as he does so, the temperature in this room suddenly a million degrees. He removes his hand again, the pressure around my throat leaving me and I whimper in distaste, making him chuckle again.

“Poor thing,” He chastises, my legs clenching together on either side of him, “I can’t do it all though, if only there was a way I could hold down both your wrists and choke that pretty neck.”

I watch his hand dig into the pocket of his joggers and once again pull out the thin red lacy fabric of my panties, holding them between us.

“Mind if I use these?” He asks, clearly knowing the answer but wanting to get a reaction out of me anyways.

“Yes, god,” I gulp, “Please.”

He grabs my hands, moving them completely above my head before wrapping the panties around them a few times, tying them together. He tugs on them a bit to make sure they’re pretty secure before looking back down at me, his eyes completely blown out in lust, his pupil swallowing his surrounding iris.

His lips are back on mine in seconds, his now free hands roaming my body before one hand rests on my neck, gripping the sides and applying a bit more pressure than the last time. I whimper into this mouth and curse myself for doing so as soon as my eyes flutter open to see that cocky smirk on his face once again.

“Eager, sweetheart?” He teases, and my hand reaches up to smack him before I remember I’m bound in a pair of my own underwear, “Ah, ah, be a good girl and stay still.”

Hearing the words good girl come out of his mouth makes my entire body squirm and he grins again, that lopsided condescending grin and I know he’s getting off on this, making me writhe underneath him. He leans down to kiss my stomach, hiking my shirt up as he goes before working his way down and tugging my pants down my legs. I hold my breath in anticipation but when I look down the bed to meet his eyes he simply kisses the inside of my thighs, ghosting his mouth over the thin fabric of my panties.

“Fucking please,” I beg, my breath coming out in heaves, “Is this some kind of joke to you?”

“Please what, princess?” He asks, my legs threatening to squeeze his head between them, “Tell me what you want, hm?”

“You cocky bastard,” I huff, my mind getting fuzzier by the second the closer he gets to my center, “You know what I want.”

He stops abruptly, sitting back up from his small assault on my inner thighs, “What did you say, love? Care to repeat that? Couldn’t quite here you down here.”

There’s an edge to his voice, like glass, it cuts right through me and makes my thighs quiver, “N-no,” I stutter, “Didn’t say anything.”

“That’s what I thought,” He grins, leaning back down between my legs, “Now be a good girl and tell me what you want me to do to you.”

I suck in a breath sharply, but I won’t let him know how his words affect me, “Oh daddy,” I mock, rolling my eyes, “Need you so bad.”

He grabs me by the ankles, flipping me onto my stomach and sends an echoing smack to my ass, the stinging sensation that radiates afterwards making my toes curl. He flips me back onto my back, his dangerously dark eyes meeting mine as he spreads my legs apart once again, holding my thighs down against the mattress.

“Want to try that again, princess?”

“Fuck,” I gasp, the edge to his voice making the whispered swear fall from my mouth involuntarily, “Um, yes.”

“Yes what?” He growls, leaning down to hold my jaw in his hand, his eyes drilling into mine waiting for a response.

“Yes daddy.”

“Now you’re getting it, good girl,” He grins, his hand that was gripping my jaw moving to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, “Now open up,” I oblige, slowly opening my mouth and he pushes his middle and ring finger past my lips. It catches me a bit off guard, but he only nods his head, “Get them nice and wet for me love, don’t want to hurt you.”

He pulls them from my mouth, a small string of saliva connecting them to my lips. He chuckles a bit, clearly getting a kick out of how worked up I am for him before finally pushing my panties to the side and pressing his fingers into me. I instantly turn my head to the side, muffling the moan that escapes my mouth into my pillow. As soon as he realizes what I’m doing he grabs me by the hair, holding my head straight.

“None of that,” He says sternly, “Wanna hear your pretty sounds, babygirl.”

I’m dangerously close to the edge just from the words pouring from his mouth in that accented tone that makes my entire body shiver. That condescending smirk finds its way back to his lips and I know that he can tell I’m close, just teetering on the edge already.

“Needy little thing, are we?” He teases, “Already gonna cum and daddy’s barely touched you yet.”

His words are almost just enough to push me over the edge, but I hold off as much as I can, straining away from his touch as much as I can with my hands bound above my head and his weight on top of me. I feel the particular twist in my stomach, that burning sensation in the very pit of my abdomen just as my eyes squeeze shut and my vision goes white. His fingers work me through it, his mouth finally hovering over where I need him most, sucking my sensitive bud into his mouth and making me shake.

I feel his fingers withdraw from me and suddenly he’s pushing them past my lips once again, but this time I taste myself on them, swirling my tongue around each one to suck them clean. I meet his eyes as he pulls them from my mouth and my hips involuntarily buck up to meet the bulge prominent in his pants.

“Still needy, are we?” He chuckles.

“Please shut up and take your pants off already.” I beg, my hips bucking up to meet him again.

“You see I would but,” He starts, sitting back on his heels, “It seems I don’t have a condom, would you happen to have one?”

“Would I, no, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” I stutter breathlessly, my blood starting to boil in disbelief, “What kind of guy doesn’t keep a pack of rubbers around you idiot?”

“Careful,” He warns, his voice dropping into that deep calculated tone that makes me shiver, “And perhaps a guy that just moved in this week and hasn’t necessarily had buying rubbers on the mind,” He says, “That is until he met a spunky purple haired girl in the supermarket.”

His words make my stomach do a few somersaults, but I don’t let it extinguish the pissed off fire burning in my stomach knowing that I won’t be getting the relief I desperately need right now.

“You’re serious?” I ask, “You don’t have any?”

“Serious, darling,” He chuckles, “But instead of moping about it, you’re going to take what I give you and say thank you daddy when I’m done, understand?”

I nod my head vigorously, despite wanting to do the exact opposite. What kind of hold does that goddamn accent have on me?

“Good,” He smiles, clearly pleased with my response, “And maybe if you’re a good girl next time daddy will remember to hit the store.”

“Next time?” I ask, not filtering the shock from my voice.

He laughs a bit, reaching up to finally untie my hands, “Yes, next time, did you want this to just be a one-time thing, princess?”

I can’t form the words I want to say as I sit up a bit, rubbing my wrists only slightly from the rough fabric of the lace wrapped around them, “I um, I don’t-”

“That’s what I thought,” He smirks, standing from the bed and holding out a hand to me, “Now come on, didn’t you get pizza?”

I smile, taking his hand and starting to stand to my feet, my legs a bit wobbly and I’m thankful for the stability of his arm to lean on.

“Do you have anything to uh,” I start, cringing when I feel the wetness in between my thighs, “Clean up with?”

“Nope,” He says cheerfully, “You keep that pretty mess I made between those thighs, babygirl.”

My knees nearly buckle, and I’m cursing him for his lack of condoms and the ache between my legs as I pull my pants back on, following him to the door to the hall. He stops abruptly just inside the doorway, turning back to meet my eyes.

“What’s my name?” He asks cheekily.

“Harry,” I say confidently, “Why? Are you worried I forgot already?”

He grabs my ass in his hand tightly, squeezing the skin, his voice calculated, “I said, what’s my name?”

I gulp, leaning into his grip on me a bit more as my knees wobble, “Daddy.”

He releases his grip on my ass, giving it a quick smack, “’Atta girl, let’s get some pizza in you so you’re ready for round two,” He grins, throwing his arm around my shoulder and tucking me into his side as we walk down the hall to my room instead, “Maybe after we can hit the store, I seemed to have forgotten to pick something up last time I went.”

#harry styles #harry #harry styles smut #one direction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #one direction smut #harry smut #harry styles oneshot #daddy!harry #dom!harry #sub!y/n

[rainingpouringetc]

ok i’m going to try to articulate this as best as i can.

let’s say this character, i’ll call him fred for the sake of efficiency, is gay. he is canonically gay. in the original source material, he is blatantly homosexual. even if he never says straight out “i’m gay”, he still dates guys and talks about how much he loves men and author says later “yeah i never explicitly wrote it in the book, but he’s gay”, so you get it. he’s gay. now say someone writes a fic about fred where he’s straight. they don’t even try to hide it. and it isn’t just one person. it’s a whole part of the fandom that chooses to ignore the fact that he’s canonically gay and instead write fred as straight. they write him as having explicitly romantic and sexual relationships with women.

we all know that that isn’t cool. you can’t just be like “well i choose to interpret fred as straight, cuz that’s just how he comes off to me.” we would all point at that and say “hey you know you’re being kinda homophobic right. you know you’re purposely taking away representation from a marginalized group of people right. you know that’s not cool right.” we all agree on that? yeah? great.

now stay with me through this next part.

let’s say that fred isn’t gay. let’s say he’s aroace. he is conanically aroace. in the original source material, he is blatantly aromantic and asexual. even if he never says straight out “i’m aroace”, he still exhibits disinterest in men and women and talks about how much he hates romance and people in general and the author says later “yeah i never explicitly wrote it in the book, but he’s aroace”, so you get it. he’s aroace. now say someone writes a fic about fred where he’s gay or bi. they don’t even try to hide it. and it isn’t just one person. it’s a whole part of the fandom that chooses to ignore the fact that he’s canonically aroace and instead write him as gay. they write him as having explicitly romantic and sexual relationships with men.

this is where i’m going to lose some of you, but: these two situations are equally bad. it doesn’t matter that in the second situation, they are writing fred as a part of another marginalized community. because, here’s the thing, the aroace community is at the very least just as marginalized as the gay community. the aroace community is actively excluded not only from the straight community but also from the lgbtq+ community. plus, it doesn’t matter who is taking away the representation. you’re still taking away representation. people just aren’t as quick to jump and point it out because people don’t want to admit that gay and bi people can be just as aphobic as straight people can be homophobic.

if you haven’t figured it out yet, this post is more specifically about raphael santiago from the shadowhunter chronicles. i need people to understand that while writing fics about raphael and simon as a couple is fun and all, you’re still taking away representation from aroace people by ignoring his canon sexuality. and that’s not okay.

i’m not trying to tell you what you can or can’t write, or what you can or can’t read and enjoy. i’m just asking that you take a look around and realize that there are plenty of other characters to write about whose sexuality isn’t already a source of fucking discourse in twenty fucking twenty-one. i’m not trying to shame people who write about raphael and simon. i’m not calling you a bad person. i honestly believe that this issue stems less from malicious aphobia and more from simple ignorance. i’m just asking that see this and don’t immediately dismiss it. i’m asking that you see this and think about it.

tldr; writing canonically aroace characters as gay is just as bad as writing canonically gay characters as straight. that’s not to say you’re a bad person for doing this or reading about it, but please remember that there are other characters to write/read about whose sexualities aren’t already a huge debate in the community.

finally, i’m totally open to intellectual conversations about this topic, but if you’re just gonna come at me with blatant aphobia and zero interest in a productive conversation, you’ll be blocked, no questions asked.

#tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #raphael santiago #tmi #the mortal instruments #asexual #aromantic #aroace #cw cursing #artie tries to write #artie rambles #i wrote this more aggressively than i meant to but maybe that's a good thing #ik that someone's gonna get butthurt over this so i'm preparing myself for the rude comments and anon hate

[kumaradosha]

I’m seeing a whole lot of bad takes and ignorance of past/present content and lack of critical thinking or ability to understand character motives regarding this most recent Dream SMP lore. So please, allow me to lay down some facts, some sense, and also some speculation of my own. This’ll be really rambly, because I’m tired, and I want to say a lot. Rewatching ALL the streaming perspectives now, my thoughts start here:

Considering Sam doesn’t want to enter the cell to dirty his hands himself, he clearly has some aversion or moral qualms about torturing prisoners, but Quackity has convinced him to go along with it. Quackity spends a lot of time before he goes into the cell repeatedly making sure Sam won’t have a change of heart and intervene, which indicates Sam probably has some misgivings. Quackity feels he has to remind Sam that this is for the greater good and to stand back and let him do his thing and that this will probably be the last time. These are all reassurances and instructions that would not be necessary if Sam were known to be totally cool with it all already.

Sam believes the stringent measures Dream put in place for the prison are just desserts for him to suffer, but Techno doesn’t deserve the same cruelty, because Techno didn’t enact those rules. And that’s why Techno gets baked potatoes from Sam, and Dream doesn’t. Sam clearly believes this harsh treatment is justified, because Dream was going to do it to someone else. He thinks he’s being just. Of course, allowing the torture, though not his idea and not really comfortable to him, was still crossing a line, considering physical torture was not something Dream did to his victims (and besides, there’s the argument that not everything a criminal has done is morally correct to be done to the prisoner regardless). That, he was convinced, was for the greater good, to get the revive book. Quackity manipulated him; he thinks he’s doing what’s best, but no, of course that doesn’t make him right or his hands clean.

Sam wanted the dog dead because it’s a security risk, especially with Quackity entering the cell with two other people. He killed it later for the exact same reason. Y’all act like nobody else has ever killed an animal in Minecraft RP; get it together. Is Sapnap also evil? Tommy? He killed his own cat. Random animals are not treated with the gravity you guys are giving them; it makes no sense to call out this one time.

When Techno raised the point that he would be fine if Quackity killed him, because Dream could just bring him back, Dream countered with his warning that Techno doesn’t want to experience death, judging by how messed up it made Tommy. What motive would he have to argue that, aside from actually caring about Techno’s well-being? If Dream was only thinking of himself, he would benefit from Techno being willing to die and be brought back to life by him, giving him an easy reason not to give the resurrection knowledge to Quackity. I honestly can’t think of a reason he would argue other than the fact that he doesn’t want Techno to die even temporarily or experience death--that he cares. Interesting...

Dream hiding in the escape tunnel to make it look like he disappeared too was 5,000 IQ, but he didn’t do it just to be silly or smart. Quackity literally threatened to kill Dream when he came back. Dream HAD to pretend to disappear, because he was legitimately in fear for his life. You saw how terrified he was when Sam found him, how he just immediately begged him not to tell Quackity. He was afraid Quackity would come back and kill him before Techno managed to come back and break him out. He believed that would be his fate and had to make a last ditch attempt to avoid that outcome.

Phil confirmed on stream that the blueprints Techno was led to via coordinates are for the prison. Not Tubbo’s missing nuke, like I’ve seen speculated.

“Steve is your polar bear” was written on stream during the “Prison Podcast” Technoblade lore. This is not a mystery. Dream said he wrote it down when Techno started talking about Steve rescuing them.

If Sam doesn’t approve of Quackity killing Dream, why doesn’t he just tell Quackity Dream is still in the prison but not allow Quackity in anymore? Quackity needs Sam to lead him inside, to let him in. Since when did he have any power against Sam to force him to let him in? I don’t understand why Sam has to keep it a secret just to keep Dream alive. Just don’t let Quackity into the prison anymore. Clearly it was a bad idea, since all these security risks happened while Quackity was getting a free pass to not follow the rules of the prison.

Dream casually walking in the way of Sam’s pickaxe to disrupt his swing once Sam almost had the bell broken gets me every time.

The rapport between c!Dream and c!Sam in prison fascinates me. Clearly Dream is much bolder with Sam than Quackity and still seems to trust his sense of duty to a degree. Sam is also more malleable, convinceable, his fatal flaw being actually listening and talking to Dream, even after it clearly messes with him psychologically. He let Quackity manipulate him, too, and he compromises too much. That might seem weird to say, considering the harsh conditions he has Dream in, but. He does give in to a few things.

I’m wondering if Dream wanted to go to the courtyard hoping it was less secure and easier for Techno to break him out of.

Sam has no reason to lie and gaslight about Dream being the one to suggest raw potatoes and sealing up the courtyard. That’s not in his character to do. So clearly Dream suggested these things. In fact, we have proof. Search for the clip of Dream revealing a teaser for future lore, with him telling Sam the hole in the courtyard ceiling for the light is a security flaw. He straight up says that. Update yourselves. Furthermore, are the recordings we have of Dream suggesting nicer features for the prison even lore? Are they in-character, or was it cc!Dream and Sam making plans? I’m genuinely asking, because I don’t remember/am not sure. In any case, clearly the plans changed at some point, and they were Dream’s idea.

Dream said he didn’t realize how bad it was until after he experienced it. This could very well be a lie. However, it could also be a wake-up call. We just don’t know. Dream clearly possesses low empathy, and every person at some point doesn’t fully realize how poorly another being can feel in a bad situation. Sometimes it actually does take experiencing it yourself to realize how it feels. People can do cruel things to others before the empathy fully clicks. It is possible that Dream really does only now understand how harsh his plans were. Unfortunately, it’s just as likely he doesn’t care and is pretending to, because he has a history of acting, lying, and manipulating. We just do not know, and I think that’s part of the fun, the speculation. Note that none of this is excusing what he’s done; that bores me. I just like understanding characters and their psychology and motives.

Sam is ASKING if Dream had this prison built for Tommy. He is suspicious that that is the case. Dream did not TELL him this, because OBVIOUSLY Sam would have absolutely nothing to do with building a prison he knew Dream meant for Tommy. So no, Sam thought it was for something else. And guess what? It was. Back during the disc war finale stream, Dream told Tommy and Tubbo that the prison was originally intended for someone else (maybe multiple people, the number was not specified), but that he changed his mind and would now put Tommy in it (ha ha punny). Tubbo asked who it was originally intended for, and Dream wouldn’t tell him, preferred to keep it a mystery. Dream had zero reason to say this if it weren’t true. In fact, it would have been more impactful to pretend (or admit) he intended it for Tommy all along. Think of the horror, or even the betrayal finding out Sam, his friend, helped make it. So yes, there is every indication that it is the truth--Dream meant the prison for someone else at first.

And Dream didn’t argue with Sam’s accusations, because why WOULD he? If he didn’t tell Tubbo who it was for, he wouldn’t tell Sam now. Plus, he wouldn’t want to argue with Sam, make him more heated and less sympathetic, and risk him deciding to tell Quackity Dream was there after all. Dream has no reason to speak up. Let Sam think what he wants. Dream’s silence does not mean confirmation. This is not a new thing with him. He keeps things mysterious, and there is a lot about his planning and mindset he does not disclose.

Now, whether Dream made the prison harsher before or after he decided he wanted Tommy in it is up for speculation. We don’t know that timeline.

Anyway, Sam’s speech about Dream getting what he deserves is really delicious. All these people out here mocking Dream fans for Dream still being in prison (like Techno’s not imminently coming to break him out, hello?) and being told off by Sam, yet plenty of us are enjoying it, too, like?? Bruh, what kind of Mary-Sue-touting asshole likes characters who are flawless who never go through strife? Can’t be me. I love watching my favs through triumph AND despair, so this is all just a win for me, thanks.

It is possible to sympathize with a bastard who is highly flawed and wrong AND to understand his motivations without justifying his actions AND to realize he deserves punishment (though to what degree I don’t care to argue). All the black and white morality and taking one extreme stance of “this character is perfect!” OR “this character is wholly evil and only ever does things to be sadistic!” and polarizing the community is cringe, yo. You need to calm down. Enjoy the ride or like...get off?

Anyway, Dream is my favorite, Techno is my second favorite, I adore Sam, I really enjoy Quackity, and the SMP wouldn’t be the same without Tommy. So much love for all of this creative work and its creators. I’m having a blast.

#Dream SMP #DSMP #Dream #DreamWasTaken #Technoblade #Awesamdude #Quackity #TommyInnit #Tommy Innit #fandom discourse #Dream SMP lore #Dream SMP theories