Group: EXO Member: Lay Type: fluffy smut ( i think?) Warning: slight angst, jealousy, sexual content
inspiration song: Arctic Monkeys - That’s where you’re wrong
Big speakers blasting loud music, colorful spotlights, people screaming to eachother to get their voices above the noise and singing along, the slight smell of sweat and slippery, beer-covered floors. It feels like it’s been centuries since you’ve experienced these familiar sensations.
Going to concerts has become a rarity since you started college. The endless assignments and studying for mid-terms and finals made sure your social life was as exciting as a whole evening of watching vacation slides of your aunt who went to Tenerife. You were so glad you could finally relax and make up for lost time with your boyfriend Yixing.
You’ve been together for a few months now and it’s been perfect. Except for the fact you only saw eachother twice a week max. because of both your busy schedules. The group that performed at the concert was one of Yixing’s and yours favourites and you were having a blast, warbling and screaming along with the lyrics, occasionally having laughter attacks when one of you messed up, kissing throughout entire songs and ofcourse dancing your feet off, you went out with Zhang Yixing after all.
Request from anons: “Can u make a imagine/smut where Sammy and y/n go to ur family’s dinner night and at the dinner Sammy was horny so he was fingering u under the table and he acted like nothing was happening and then in the end he says to u “now who’s ur real daddy” and when u get home u can finish there😅 sorry if it was long!!!” “Could you please do an imagine where you’re pregnant with Sammy’s baby and he’s horny but you can’t do anything and you just laugh at him and don’t help him?”
“UNNNNGGGHHHH, do we have to go to dinner at your parents??” Sam groans in the driver’s seat. “Yes baby, you want to know why? Because we are about to be parents,” I rub my big ole belly, “And we won’t have time to visit my parents. So I just want to have a good visit before we have our first child. Okay? Please? I thought you like my parents.” “I do but your dad sometimes pretends he doesn’t like me and threatens me that he’s going to hunt me down and kill me if I don’t marry his daughter… We’ve been married for 2 years now!” “Hey, if you stay a good trooper,” I feel him pull over, “I’ll reward you.” I seductively said in his ear, smirking as I hear him groan a little. I kiss his cheek real quick, open the passenger and hop out as gentle as possible, waving hi to my parents that are standing at the window. I wobble up the stairs and in the house, “Hi mom, hi daddy.” I greet them with a hug. Sam walks into the house, carrying our luggage as he says hi to my parents too. “Samuel, hi baby.” My mom hugs him and kisses his cheek. “Hi mom. Hi dad.” He shakes my dad’s hand.
“You taking good care of my pregnant daughter?” My dad said in a serious voice. “Yes sir.” “Are you sure? Y/N, is he treating you good?” “Daddy stop threatening Sam. It was funny at first, now it’s just getting old. You know he’s taking good care of me.” I wrap my hands around Sam’s back, leaning my head on his shoulder. “Alright. Let me go take your things into the spare room. Go sit down Y/N. You shouldn’t be standing this long while being this far along pregnant.” He grabs our things and walks up the stairs, “Thanks daddy.” I yell up to him, then looking at Sam. “You might want to hide your bulge, daddy.” I whisper to him, winking.
After setting up the table with my mom, dinner started, my parents sitting on one side and Sam and I across from them. While eating dinner and my parents telling us stories of their trip to the Bahamas, I feel Sam’s hand set onto my thighs. I didn’t mind, or care because he always does that. As I ignored it and kept interacting with my parents, I felt his hands glide to the side of my thighs, and up my dress. I start fidgeting to make him stop but he just kept moving his hand closer and closer to my slit.
As his hand glided over my thighs, he pushed my dress to my waist, revealing my panties. You would think he would be struggling with my belly but knowing Sam, he’s slick with it playing it off like he isn’t even moving his hand. As my parents kept talking about their vacations, Sammy slides my panties to the side, moving his finger in circles on my clit. On the inside, I start screaming but on the outside, I’m smiling and nodding at my parents but not hearing one word from their mouths.
Sam continues this motion, also entering one finger in me slowly, in and out. “Honey, would you like to help get dessert?” My mom snaps me out of my blank stare. “No, my feet hurt. Sorry mom. Daddy, maybe you can help mom?” He nods, wipes his face then gets up, following my mom into the kitchen. Once they are out of sight, “You better make me cum before they get back in here.” I gritted my teeth together, eyes rolling to the back of my head. “Fuck.” I whisper. Sam starts kissing my neck, fastening his pace, “What’s my name baby girl?” He husks in my ear. I just moan lightly, “What’s my name baby..” He says again. “Daddy...” I whisper in his face, kissing his lips as I felt my body shake. I grab onto his wrist but he doesn’t pull away as I cum on his fingers, preventing myself from moaning loud enough for my parents to hear. “That’s my good girl.” Sam pecks my cheek, removes his hand from my slit, lowering my dress back onto my thighs, and licking his fingers. My parents come back in with dessert and we finished dinner.
Later that night, my parents go off to bed and Sam and I followed a couple of minutes later. Once I wobble closer to bed, Sam pops up from the bathroom ,smirking at me. “That was real risky what you did in there Mr. Wilkinson.” I pulled the blankets off my old bed so I could get under it. “Well Mrs. Wilkinson, you teased me earlier. So I had to get you back.” Sam winked at me. “Imagine if we got caught. My dad would have killed you.” I chuckled, hands on my hips, thinking. I look at Sam standing on the other side of the bed, staring back at me. I observe him up and down and see another bulge, “No.” I shake my head and he pretends to be angry. “Please.” He begs. “I’m pregnant. And my parents are next door. What do you expect me to do?” I sit down on the bed slowly, and lift my legs onto the bed. “At least suck it.” He looks down at it. I just laugh a little louder, “Funny.” I lean forward to grab the blanket. “I liked you better when you weren’t pregnant.” Sam huffs. “Me too..” I say as I watch him just stand there in his briefs. I just roll my eyes, swing my legs on the edge of the bed, and lift myself up off the bed. “Where are you going?” He asks as I wobble my way to him.
He opens his arms thinking I’m going to cry in his arms again because of how emotional I get but before he wraps his arms around me, I slowly get to my knees. “Wha-” He says before I drop his briefs, revealing his friend. “Babe, you don’-” I lick the tip making him shiver. I hear him groan with his mouth shut, his head tilted back as I slowly fist him, sucking the head. I start teasing so much he got weak to his knees that he caught himself on the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed, as I continued to stroke him, looking up in his eyes. I tarted sucking length by length till i could go as deep as I could. His slight groans made me so wet I started rubbing myself too. The more I stroke his shaft, the deeper his voice got in pleasure. Once he finally came, he wiped me clean, helping me up and onto the bed. He put more pillows behind my back thinking he was just tucking me in. Before I knew it, he spreads my legs and starts licking up and down my slit. “F-fu-” I covered my mouth so I wasn’t loud. His tongue does wonders, as he sticks two fingers in me, fingering me in and out, as he sucks on my clit. “Fuck daddy” I whisper, holding onto the sheets trying not to scream. He lifts his head up, but his fingers still going in and out, “Cum baby girl, you know you want to.” His face one inch from mines, breathing hard. My back arches a little, as far as my pregnant self could, releasing all over his fingers again. His lips smack onto mines to keep me from moaning out loud.
He licks me off, smirking at how horny I am from being this pregnant. He throws the blankets over me and rolls to his side of the bed, cuddling me. “MMM, that was nice baby. We haven’t done that in a while.” He says kissing my head. “Your dry spell has been too long, I’m accusing.” I giggle. “Too. Long. But it’s ok. It’ll be worth it in the end.” He rubs my belly, excited for the baby to arrive. “Now let me ask you something.” He says. “Who do you like calling daddy better? Me or your father?” He jokes at me, smiling big. I push his face off of me, “Good night.” I flip to my other side, ignoring his question. “Good night who?” Sam’s head pops up next to mines, “Good night daddy.” I peck his lips as we both fell asleep.
A late, late, late entry for Phanniemay Day 15, ‘Sci-Fi.’ Predictably, here’s some Space Au Danielle.
Space did funny things to people.
Then again, people did funny things in space. Strapping themselves to rockets and blasting themselves across the big empty. Even though everything they were was tailor-made from millions of years of evolution for one tiny world, they still had to ride off to all the other ones. Transplant themselves to a foreign body that would always reject them. It tended to make people a little crazy.
Dani could sympathize. Everything down to her blood and her bones endlessly craved a place that wasn’t, anymore. Always a mismatch. Never a someplace that ever clicked into her incompatible links.
Space stations were the real dens of crazy. Built to accommodate everyone and succeeding with nobody. Gravity too high or too low, never the right temperature, finicky air composition. A place with dozens of different species, nationalities, clades, gangs, and corporates like a box of mismatched pieces. The bad edges crushed together.
Not a single sentient belonged there, Dani especially. She was okay with it. The bar was offering half-off drinks for gals and gal-identifying.
a/n - happy new year! after seeing the boys’ pictures from bali i got inspired to write this one - enjoy!
calum hood & y/n word count - 4522 warnings - sexual content language
You didn’t even really want to be going
on this vacation.
Not that you weren’t grateful to your
parents for paying for you to tag along on their trip – you knew
that you needed to get away for a while, that a change of scenery
would do you good – you just didn’t exactly relish the thought of
spending 10 days with only your mum and dad for company.
Humanities professors will be like “Excuse me. Yes. This answer you wrote on the test about Michelangelo’s David is completely wrong. Even though you retained all the information from the text book (which I wrote) and you remembered everything from my vacation slide show, you are still wrong. I have seen David in person. Did I tell you all that I have traveled? Yes. I travel. I have seen David in person and that sculpture told me that it wanted to fuck me because of how cultured I am. That means I am better than you, because I have traveled the world and seen these sculptures in person. I don’t care if this is an elective credit. You will have to prove your worth to me.”
i have heard you: all who have voiced opposition to my conducting a writing and performing seminar at the nottoway plantation. i have decided to cancel the retreat.
when i agreed to do a retreat (with a promoter who has organized such things before with other artists and who approached me about being the next curator/host/teacher), i did not know the exact location it was to be held. i knew only that it would be “not too far outside of new orleans” so that i could potentially come home to my own bed each night (ONE GREAT THING ABOUT NOT BEING A SLAVE IS THAT YOU GET YOUR OWN BED, AND I REALLY, REALLY Like MINE). and i knew that one of the days of the retreat was slated as a field trip wherein everyone would come to new orleans together (KIND OF LIKE A TRIP TO THE ZOO).
later, when i found out it was to be held at a resort on a former plantation, I thought to myself, “whoa” (WHICH IS KIND OF LIKE THAT TIME I WENT ON THAT WATERSLIDE WHILST ON VACATION. THE SLIDE WAS WAY BIGGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE AND WHEN I GOT TO THE TOP I WAS ALL LIKE, ‘WOAH’), but i did not imagine or understand that the setting of a plantation would trigger such collective outrage or result in so much high velocity bitterness (I’M A FEMINIST BUT I HAVE TO CALL IT AS I SEE IT. BLACK WOMEN BE BITTER. AND NOT IN A REGULAR, TWISTED WAY, IN A HIGH VELOCITY WAY). i imagined instead (IN A MORE FORWARD THINKING WAY) that the setting would become a participant in the event (Like A FUN PERSON AT A RIGHTEOUS PARTY).
this was doubtless to be a gathering of progressive and engaged people (I KNOW THIS FOR SURE BECAUSE I GAVE THEM ALL AN EXAM ON THEIR RIGHTEOUS PROGRESSIVE CREDENTIALS BEFORE I TOOK THEIR CARD DETAILS), so i imagined (IMAGINING YOU’RE ANTI RACIST IS AS GOOD AS BEING ANTI RACIST) a dialogue would emerge organically over the four days about the issue of where we were (A BACKDROP OF A PLANTATION IS ABOUT THE ONLY WAY YOU CAN GET SO MANY WHITE LADIES TO HAVE A CONVERSATION ABOUT SLAVERY). i have heard the feedback that it is not my place to go to former plantations and initiate such a dialogue.
tragedies on a massive scale are not easily dealt with or recovered from (I KNOW THIS BECAUSE I USED TO BE A SLAVE. OH NO, WAIT, I DIDN’T.). i certainly in no way expect or want to be immune from that pain or that process of recovery. i welcome (and in fact have always pursued, [SINCE I WAS IN UTERI]) constructive (CONSTRUCTIVE IS THE OPERATIVE WORD, BITTER BLACK LADIES) dialogue about these and all political/social issues. my intention of going ahead with the conference at the nottoway plantation was not to be a part of a great forgetting but its opposite (REMEMBERING. BECAUSE THAT’S THE OPPOSITE GUYS. OF FORGETTING. REMMEBERING. IN CASE YOU HAD NOT NOTICED).
i know that pain is stored in places where great social ills have occurred. i believe that people must go to those places (I DIDN’T MEAN TO GO TO ‘THOSE PLACES’ ORIGINALLY, BUT WHAT’S THE PHRASE? WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU A RETREAT ON A PLANTATION, MAKE LEMONADE!) with awareness and with compassionate energy and meditate on what has happened and absorb some of the reverberating pain with their attention and their awareness. i believe that compassionate energy is transformative and necessary for healing the wounds of history. i believe that even though i am white, i can and must do this work too. if you disagree, i respectfully understand where you’re coming from and your right to disagree. i am not unaware of the mechanism of white privilege or the fact that i need to listen more than talk when it comes to issues of race (BUT I’LL TALK FOR ANOTHER PAGE OR SO ANYWAY). if nottoway is simply not an acceptable place for me to go and try to do my work in the eyes of many, then let me just concede before more divisive words are spilled (NOTE: DIVISIVE WORDS HAVE ALREADY BEEN SPILLED. I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU, BITTER BLACK LADIES. STOP SPILLING THOSE WORDS. KEEP THEM IN YOUR HEAD VASES).
i obviously underestimated the power of an evocatively symbolic (RACISM IS DEAD AND OLD PLANTATIONS ARE SYMBOLS. OR IS IT CYMBALS? EITHER WAY, NOTHING REAL IS GOING DOWN) place to trigger collective and individual pain. i believe that your energy and your questioning are needed in this world. i know that the pain of slavery is real and runs very deep and wide. However (HAHA, BET YOU THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO END IT THERE, DIDN’T YOU? NOPE! THERE’S A ‘HOWEVER’! GOTCHA!) in this incident i think is very unfortunate what many (BLACK LADIES) have chosen to do with that pain (WHEN I’M IN PAIN I ALWAYS CHANNEL IT APPROPRIATELY AND WRITE A NEW SONG. OH BITTER BLACK WOMEN, WHY CAN’T YOU BE AS CREATIVE AND SOULFUL AS ME?). i cancel the retreat now because i wish to restore peace and respectful discourse between people as quickly as possible. i entreat you to refocus your concerns and comments on this matter with positive energy and allow us now to work together (YES ANI LET’S WORK TOGETHER. NO WAIT, I’M TOO BITTER) towards common (STOLEN) ground and healing.
for myself (THAT’S ME, ANI DIFRANCO, BY THE WAY), i believe that one cannot draw a line around the nottoway plantation and say “racism reached its depths of wrongness here” and then point to the other side of that line and say “but not here” (BASICALLY, BECAUSE OF COLONIALISM AND SLAVERY AND EVERYTHING, DRAWING THE LINE ANYWHERE IS IMPOSSIBLE, SO LET’S JUST SAY ONCE AND FOR ALL THAT WHITE PEOPLE CAN GO WHEREVER THE FUCK THEY LIKE AND SAY WHATEVER THE FUCK THEY LIKE WITHOUT THERE BEING BITTER REMARKS ABOUT IT ON TWITTER). i know that any building built before 1860 in the South and many after, were built on the backs of slaves (YEAH, I’VE BEEN READING HISTORY BOOKS WHILE YOU GUYS HAVE BEEN WASTING TIME ON TWITTER. BET YOU DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT THE BACKS OF SLAVES, DID YOU?). i know that in new orleans, the city i live in, most buildings have slave quarters out back, and to not use any buildings that speak to our country’s history of slavery would necessitate moving far far away (AND I HATE MOVING. IT’S SUCH A HASSLE. ALL THE BOXES, NEVER KNOWING WHERE YOUR TIN OPENER IS. IT’S TERRIBLE. IT’S ALMOST AS BAD AS SLAVERY).
i know that indeed our whole country has had a history of invasion, oppression and exploitation as part of its very fabric of power and wealth. i know that each of us (EVEN YOU, BITTER BLACK LADIES. YOU’RE JUST AS BAD AS ME) is sitting right now in a building located on stolen land. stolen from the original people of this continent who suffered genocide at the hands of european colonists (YEAH I DIDN’T JUST READ UP ON SLAVERY, I WENT ALL THE WAY BACK TO THE AMERICAN HOLOCAUST. GET ME). i know that many of us can look down right now and see shoes and clothes that were manufactured by modern day indentured servants in sweat shops. i know that micro profits from purchases that we make all day long are trickling down to monsanto, to nestle and to GE (WHO’S WORSE, MONSANTO OR ME? YUP, MONSANTO. I’M LIKE PRACTICALLY AN ANGEL IN COMPARISON. THAT’S WHY I MADE THE COMPARISON). i know that a sickeningly large percentage of the taxes we pay go to manufacturing weapons and to making war. and on and on and on (I CAN’T BE BOTHERED TO LIST ANY MORE ATROCITIES.). it is a very imperfect world we live in and (WHITE PEOPLE CAN’T DO ANYTHING RIGHT. IT’S LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE. YOU CAN’T EVEN HOST A LADIES RETREAT ON AN OLD SLAVE PLANTATION WITHOUT SOME UPPITY BLACK WOMAN MAKING A FUSS ABOUT IT ON SOCIAL MEDIA) i, like everyone else, am just trying to do my best to negotiate it (THEY TOLD ME IN SCHOOL THAT ALL THAT MATTERED WAS THAT I TRIED MY BEST. I THINK THEY TOLD THE BLACK KIDS SOMETHING DIFFERENT, BUT HEY, I’M WHITE. I MEAN, HEY, THAT’S LIFE.)
as to the matter of the current owner of the resort and his political leanings, that was brought to my attention yesterday and it does disturb me. but it also begs further questions: who are all the owners of all the venues i or any other musician play? the performing arts centers? the theaters? the night clubs? i bet there are a lot of rich white dudes with conservative political leanings on the list (WE’LL NEVER KNOW THOUGH. I’M CERTAINLY NOT GOING TO BOTHER CHECKING. IT’S HARD ENOUGH TO BOOK VENUES AS IT IS WITHOUT MAKING SURE THEY’RE ALL ETHICAL AND SHIT. WHO AM I, GHANDI?). is it possible to separate the positive from the negative people in this world? (IS IT POSSIBLE TO ASK SO MANY GENERAL PHILOSOPHICAL QUESTIONS THAT EVERYONE FORGETS THE ORIGINAL ISSUE?) will those lines be clear and discernible with enough research?
is it my job to do this for every gig (BECAUSE I’M TOTALLY NOT UP FOR THAT. I CAN CANCEL AN EVENT EVERY NOW AND AGAIN WHEN BLACK WOMEN GET HIGH VELOCITY BITTER ON TWITTER, BUT I ALREADY HAVE A JOB. I’M A SINGING WHITE LADY, AND I SIMPLY DON’T HAVE TIME TO DO ALL THIS ANTI RACIST BULLSHIT ON TOP OF IT ALL)? is it possible to ensure that no ‘bad’ person will ever profit in any way from my existence or my work? again, maybe we should indeed have drawn a line in this case and said nottoway plantation is not a good place to go; maybe we should have vetted the place more thoroughly. (GOD I COULD REALLY LEAVE IT THERE BUT I FEEL A BUT COMING. A BUT OR A HOWEVER. MAYBE AN ALTHOUGH? NO, IT’S A BUT) but should hatred be spit at me over that mistake? (ANSWER: NO. I SHOULD BE ABLE TO ARRANGE AS MANY PLANTATION THINKATHONS AS I LIKE WITHOUT INCITING THE HATRED OF ANYBODY. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?).
i believe that we need every ounce of energy that we have to try to create a positive change in this world. and to work together. that energy is precious (AM I BEING TOO SUBTLE? THIS IS NOT A GOOD USE OF YOUR ENERGY, BLACK BITTER WOMEN! DO SOMETHING ELSE WITH YOUR TIME! WRITE SONGS OR TAKE MOUNTAIN WALKS OR COOK PIG’S FEET OR SOMETHING, ANYTHING, MY GOD, BUT PLEASE STOP DOING THIS, IT’S REALLY GRIPPING MY SHIT).
my focus for the righteous retreat was on creating an enriching experience that celebrated a diversity of voice and spirit (AND OF PEOPLE GUYS. YOU WAIT TILL YOU SEE WHO I INVITED). i invited my friends Buddy Wakefield, Toshi Reagon (TOSHI’S BLACK BY THE WAY! IN YOUR FACE, PEOPLE WHO CALLED ME A RACIST! THIS IS WHAT I MEANT WHEN I SAID ‘DIVERSITY’) and Hamell on Trial to impart their particular brands of spirit (‘DIVERSE’ PEOPLE ARE SO SPIRITUAL AND WISE. CERTAINLY SPIRITUAL ENOUGH TO OVERCOME OLD PLANTATION VIBES) and wisdom to the conference attendees.
i also planned to take the whole group on a field trip to Roots of Music, a free music school for underprivileged kids (PROBABLY A LOT OF BLACK KIDS IN THAT CATEGORY) in New Orleans. Roots of Music is located at the Cabildo, a building in the French Quarter which was the seat of the former slaveholder government where all the laws of the slave state were first written and enacted. i believe that the existence of Roots of Music in this building is transcendent (THEY MANAGED TO TRANSCEND THIS SLAVERY STUFF. WHAT’S YOUR EXCUSE?) and it would have been a very inspiring place to visit. (UNFORTUNATELY, THE AMOUNT OF INSPIRATION TAKING PLACE AT ROOTS MUSIC WILL NOW BE ZERO BECAUSE I WON’T BE THERE. ARE YOU PLEASED WITH YOURSELVES, BLACK BITTER LADIES?). i also believe that Roots could have gained a few new supporters (THEY ONLY NEEDED A FEW, BUT NOW THEY’LL BE GETTING NONE, BECAUSE I WON’T BE THERE. I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY BITTER BLACK WOMEN). in short (WELL, TO BE FAIR, IN LONG), i think many positive and life-affirming connections would have been made at this conference, in its all of its complexity of design (NOT ANYMORE BITTER BLACK BITCHES. YOU’VE FUCKING RUINED MY COMPLEX 4 DAY WEEKEND).
i do not wish to reinvent the righteous retreat at this point to eliminate the stay at the Nottoway Plantation. at this point I wish only to cancel (THAT’S MY ONLY WISH).
i ask only (JUST A SINGLE REQUEST. JUST ONE WISH AND ONE QUESTION IN 3 PAGES OF TEXT. DON’T ASK FOR MUCH, DO I? NOT LIKE THOSE UPPITY BITTER BLACK WOMEN WHO ARE CONSTANTLY ASKING FOR STUFF – CIVIL RIGHTS, EQUAL PAY, NOT HAVING RELAXATION EVENTS AT PLANTATIONS – WHAT’S NEXT, I ASK YOU? ME TO STOP PERFORMING ALTOGETHER?) that as we (THAT’S THE ROYAL WE) attempt to continue to confront our (THAT’S ALL OF US) country’s history together (THAT’S ALL OF US AT THE SAME TIME), let us (GOD IT’S GETTING COMMUNAL UP IN HERE. ARE YOU FEELING IT? THAT’S DUE TO THE COMMUNITAH VIBES AND SPIRIT OF TOGETHERNESS I KEEP ON BLESSING YOU WITH.) not forget that the history of slavery and exploitation is at the foundation of much of our (AGAIN, THAT’S ALL OF OURS, ONE BIG TRANSCENDENTAL COMMUNITAH) infrastructure in this country, not just at old plantation sites (I BET YOU FORGOT ABOUT THE INFRASTRUCTURE, DIDN’T YOU? YOU WERE TOO BUSY THINKING ABOUT THE PLANTATION TO REMEMBER ABOUT THE INFRASTRUCTURE. WHAT’S THE PHRASE? YOU WASTE ALL YOUR TIME THINKING ABOUT PLANTATIONS AND HAVING A SNOOZE, YOU LOSE?).
let us not oversimplify (LIKE YOU DID) to black and white (PUN INTENDED) a society that contains many, many shades of grey (I’M IDENTIFYING AS GREY HERE). and let us not forget to be compassionate towards each other as we attempt to move forward and write the next pages in our history. our (THAT’S US, COMMUNITAH, ALL OF US, TOGETHER) story is not over and, Citizens of the Internet, it is now ours to write (MINE AND EVERYONE ELSE’S, MAINLY MINE).
An Analysis of the Enforcers based on their living spaces
Here’s something to gnaw on:
I decided to rant about something random within the fandom…(I’m a poet apparently).
I was so enamored with Gino’s apartment that I felt I needed to study the functionality and differences between all the enforcers’ living spaces!!
Sorry No Photos…I gave episode refs, so go look. hit pause, soak in the scenery…
Analysis of Enforcers’ Quarters.
It seems that many don’t have windows… are they underground? Where is this? in an older part of the MWPSB building? or just lower levels? Stone archways, brick and cement walls, iron railings and stairs are present in every one. and the same sort of light fixtures are in every apartment. They all have main sitting areas, which are adjacent to the kitchen (all of which seem to be made of stainless steel) and dining areas. It seems there is a small door in the dining area that leads to a bedroom (and bathroom?). I am trying to figure out if they are decorated in holograms. Everything in their apartments seem to be decorated the old-fashioned way, by physical items, but I could be wrong…maybe the walls and floor are HOLO? Room details taken from episodes as following:
Kougami: S1E3, S1E7, S1E17Ginoza: S2E3Masaoka: S1E4Kagari: S1E6Shion: S1E22Ginoza’s Place is definitely turn of the century (19th-20th) French Country “Provincial"decor, largely decoracted in green victorian-looking wallpaper and neutral tones, accented by reds. The floors are at least somekind of imitation wood flooring (if they aren’t real hardwood, that is) and the bottom meter(ish) of the wall is a med-dark stained wood. Near the entryway and stairs is his little exercise/weight-lifting corner (no cardio equip’t). He even put up a tasteful divider to block the immediate view of his exercise area from the dining area. It seems Dime’s pen is on the other side of the stairs at the far side of the sitting room. There are (assumed by the one and a half that can be seen) three windows on that wall with red curtains. Gino’s coin collection is ALL OVER the walls, even in the kitchen/dining areas…seriously. He even has cases in which he displays them. He has a couch and a chair that are off-white, and an off-white marble-topped wood coffee table, all of which sits on a mostly red, white and gold persian/oriental-style rug. His dining set is also wood, but more of a French country style. (This means his taste in decor is like 200 years old in the year 2114!) He has fancy victorian-style china (tea set). And I believe there are some frames with STAMPS. (rly, Gino?I knew about the Coins, but stamps, too?) His Entertainment center sits kiddie-corner, so he can watch from his favorite chair. The vibe of his place is earthy and grounding, yet refined. Nice relaxing place for him and Dime.
Masaoka’s Place seems to have 5 cathedral style windows on the opposite as you enter the room. He has two couches immediately to the left at the bottom of the stairs, that are dark, sleek and utilitarian looking. In the corner opposite the stairs, near the kitchen, sits his easel and a small utility table for his brushes and palettes, so he gets the "natural light” from the windows. Although, as you come to the bottom of the stairs, there is another similar table and a chair…are there TWO easels? On the far wall, the entire “arch” seems to be a window, much akin to a studio apartment in NYC. There are at least TWO more canvases set up (one being the second chair and table were. there are canvases strewn about everywhere in that main area, it seems. The walls are greyish and seem painted, but have smatterings of what could be “accidental” paint . You get the feeling that his vibe is very much that of an artist: that it’s pretty much all Masaoka does other than work, sleep and eat. The windows are the important element of his apartment, so that he can paint. He doesn’t care to really decorate, because he’s too busy creating.
Kagari, ever the eternal youth, has a pool table, a “hook”/“grab-it” style machine and around nine arcade games from the late 20th/early 21st century! Not to mention, a jukebox, a bike/scooter, remote-control car, a row of 25-cent bubblegum/candy machines and various weird paraphenalia from the 20th century. the decor has a mixed vibe of “50’s diner, 60’s mod, and 80’s arcade”. Super fun and Kitschy, just like him. The floors are checkered black and white tiles with yellow mod bucket seats and couch, and a kidney bean shaped kitchen table. His walls seem to have no windows, and are seemingly grey and utilitarian, only enhanced by the wall hangings everywhere. HIS light fixtures are different.
Shion, oddly doesn’t use her bedroom for her bed. it’s right in the same place gino has his work out area. Right in the little alcove next to the entryway stairs. I was unsure of the holograms, at least to a certain extent. The WALLS are definitely hologram-programmable. Windows are definitely holograms. Shion’s room tells me this FOR SURE, as she has it set to a tropical getaway theme. There is a “beach” or pool “outside” yup. Those palm trees? yup, definitely a hologram. Her light fixtures are different, too, like something you’d see at an outdoor wedding. She has a deck/patio table and chairs near the “pool/patio” door/window. Wood floors, which I am now assuming the floors, all which are different, are also holo-programs. She has another table in her kitchen area round, seats four, still small…there seems to be a carpet in her dining area too. simple. not fancy.seemingly tan/beige. A little table near the bed with a vase of flowers on it…purple…are they forget-me-nots?
Kougami…You can tell, he doesn’t give a flying fuck. No holograms, not a single excess detail. He has his exercise equipment, a closet/dresser thing, the blue couch and chairs a plain glasstop coffee table, blue rug… and that’s about it. oh yeah, he has a television. the bare necessities…Until you follow him into his room, where his old office apparently threw up. Bookshelves/hutches, filing cabinets, with boxes piled on top. And a couch, not a bed…A desk with a lamp, and pictures of the case ALL OVER HIS WALL. *cue Jim Carrey ala Ace Ventura* “Obsessed much?"
So there you have it: Bri’s Observation and analysis of the different enforcers and their living spaces.
1) Ginoza is the only one that made his place "feel like home.” It feels like a house. It shows that Gino is incredibly observant and pays attention to detail. I mean, I personally grew up with a family that was heavily influenced by victorian and provincial/country style. That rug he has reminds me of ones that my mom and grandmother had when I was a kid. Shit, I have one in my dining room. The only other thing was, why was Dime confined to his pen?? because of company, I’d assume the only reason…
My Gino baby has good taste. ;)
2)Kagari is FUN. I’d be his roommate a close second to Gino, just because we’d drink and play video games ALLLLLL the time. My problem is that my personality vascillates between Kagari and Gino on a daily basis. Who would I choose to live with??? Fun? or Chill?
3) Shion breaks the mold a little bit…and It makes my wonder what she uses her actual bedroom for? I understand her need to be on a permanent vacation. If only those sliding doors were real…to me that would be MORE depressing.
4) Lastly, The sparseness of both Masaoka and Kougami’s spaces show that they truly have the intensely obsessive personalities. They don’t give a crap about their surroundings. It’s all about their need to DO something with themselves…Masaoka with his Art, Shinya, well, mostly his job, and exercising away as much of the stress that he could…(it didn’t work).
Is it me, or do their apartments look like fragments of an old subway line??? I was trying to figure out the brick and stone, the arches…it was the only thing that came to mind.
Oh yeah… and where the hell are the bathrooms??? I could envision the ENTIRE layout of those spaces…but there was no indication of a private bath…weird.
Do you think we'll learn anything about The Inquisitor (Season 1)? Maybe like a comic book series or flashbacks? I mean I don't mind it to much cause the whole mysteriousness adds to his calculating demeanor.
The idea of Inquisitors is really interesting and I would definitely want to know more backstory, but the Inquisitor himself? I dunno. As long as it’s not some ‘Hear my tale of woe personal backstory’ that he regales to Kanan via vacation slides flashbacks.