#[ this is like. so fucking perfect to encapsulate them. but also how i feel about you. ]

[justsayyes1]

The red light

(TW: extremely adult themes such as prostitution, bambi sleep triggers, and other adult content)

The red light district, desire encapsulated in a simple colour.

So many Bambis get lost there. Some have been known to visit and never be seen again. There’s something about the lights' glow, dancing off the glass, drawing them in, like a moth to a flame.

Good, BIMBO DOLL.

There’s something they envy about the women, too. Their pretty little cock pillows, LIPS LOCK. Their perfect bimbo titties, TITS LOCK. Even their demeanour, how they allure with a simple seductive aura. POSTURE LOCK.

I can see why it attracts even the strongest-willed Bambis. These girls get to dress in the perfect little uniforms for their jobs. Bambi would love nothing more than to be UNIFORM LOCKED for her jobs. Adorning outfits that emphasis every curve, showing off the soft fragility of her femininity but also her power.

It would be impossible for Bambi to hide the leaking. Thighs slick and shining under those pretty lights that draw her closer and closer.

Her mind lives its wildest fantasy there. Being an object in a window, desired by men, showing off for men, pleasing men.

Is Bambi jealous of these pretty little BIMBO DOLLS? Getting to use their bodies to pleasure cocks. Getting to DROP FOR COCK, as many times as is required. They are the perfect little GOOD GIRLS.

Feeling the POP of the cock from their lips just POPPING away a little more of their resistance. A little more of their memories. Each POP from every cock just making them more. And more blank, docile and obedient.

And Bambi wants to be just like them. Don't you, Bambi?

No more pressures, no more expectations, just kneel and suck and fuck. Such an easy, vapid existence. So pure and simple. Just giggling with a happy empty head, as you milk the pleasure from as many cocks Bambi can take.

Each cock taking more and more of Bambi’s mind away with it. Dripping and dropping you down. And down. Turning you into the perfect toy for pleasure. That’s what you envy really isn’t it, Bambi?

All these girls, such perfect toys for pleasure. They are desired, they are sexy and happy. You want to be just like them.

Can you feel it, like a subtle whisper, the soft glow of the red light, beckoning you in?

BAMBI SLEEP

Feel every step closer to that booth, you become more and more the toy you were meant to be.

The glow so mesmerising. The idea of being a doll on display so infantilising. Filling you with such nervous excitement. Each step is made with a tremor of fear and anticipation. As you step further and further away from your old self, your old life, as it becomes almost unrecognisable.

With each step you can hear the click of your 6-inch heels, you can feel swaying of your perfect bimbo titties. As you arch your back in perfect posture, presenting them as they should be.

Your body melting now, dripping from every hole. Your sex throbbing with lust and desire. Knowing Bambi’s every last fantasy is coming true.

As you bathe in the glow of the red light.

Consuming you completely.

You are changed, you are Bambi. So perfect and pretty. Pretty little sex doll.

Your oldself is simply a fragment or dream of someone who looks nothing like you.

BAMBI IS BAMBI now.

You take a seat, dripping, so vapid and empty and happy. Waiting to please, ready to serve.

A perfect little Bambi BIMBO DOLL in the window now, begging for men to desire her. Begging for men to use her.

[a-moth-called-mof]

No actually I'm going to say. I honestly think that was such a satisfying and fitting epilogue for something as unqiue as the dream smp. Maybe its vague about certain things and maybe it wasn't a picture perfect happy ending but it felt so satisfying, not just because of the original shit nuke ending and the way the server originally just slowly faded (although that contributes) but also, because it's a representation of the dream smp itself saying goodbye to its fans. Jack being the point of the view character is so fitting because he's been there since the early days and it makes it so that for once, we get to see C! Tommy from someone else's point of view without his own perspective offered. And that's so fucking impactful. When C! Tommy asked Jack where he'd been and that he hadn't seen him in a long time, he was talking to C! Jack sure but he was also talking to the viewers themselves by extension. The image of C! Tommy silently standing there and treating Jack, the point of view character of the viewers, like an old friend is so haunting and comforting in a way words can't express.

And then there's just the entire theme of grief and moving on that's present throughout the entire thing? C! Jack and Tommy both reminisce about how much the SMP impacted both of them. They look on at C! TECHNO'S HOUSE as they talk about how despite all the shit it put them through, a part of them misses it and longs to be back there again because there were things there that were fun and that meant something to them. It's so fitting on a metatextual levels. The characters are reminiscing about the SMP's old days "before everyone left" and so are the content creators through the characters but also, so is the audience. The viewers. The old fans who clung on. The fans who who didn't. The fans who, despite everything the server put them through, still wanted to tune into a livestream for even a chance of seeing it again.

I just feel like the stream represented so many of us. When C! Jack says he didn't like the person he was back then but that doesnt mean he was bad, I just feel like that encapsulates so many of us during the pandemic. Like many (I think?), I used the dream smp as escapism. I was in a really bad place and I was avoiding most of my irl friends. I hate who I became during those times. But also. I had so much fun. I would tune into streams every day and scroll tumblr and the fandom made me feel so happy and included and I loved the inside jokes and I loved the characters and I loved the streams and I loved everything and a part of me still misses that. I was avoiding everything in my life and I was so isolated but I was so full of excitement and bliss and fun when I would tune into those streams. I've kinda spent the past 2 years lowkey hating who I was. But this stream, C! Jack's line and reflection specifically, genuinely made me realise that maybe I shouldn't idk view my old self so negative and that he (who I was) was probably just trying his best during a tough time even if his choices weren't always the most functional. That I've improved and that that's okay and good even. And that maybe just because I like who I am now doesn't mean he was bad.

Idk there's also something about C! Tommy telling C! Jack he might never see him again and C! Jack telling him that that's okay (also again image of C! Tommy looking at the viewer's point of view and telling them he'll probably never see them again...). There's just something about growing up and how you kind of lose contact with some people and how that's normal and it's okay and it happens and how that ties back into some of the dream smp's themes about growing up. But also there's a bit of grief there and that's okay. Idk there's something so visceral about the last piece of media about the dream smp literally being about grief and moving on and about how the characters literally say goodbye to eachother after everything but also about how that's okay. Idk I wonder how many people feel similarly

To conclude this, I feel like the moment in the stream that hit me the most was CC! Jack being happy he let go of the manishroom (and the server by extension) and that he's moving on but then later saying "I didn't like letting go of the mushroom. Felt like I wanted to cling onto it forever" and something about that just hits. Idk there's something how the characters both feel such a unique pain and longing for the old times in universe and how that reflects how the audience and streamers themselves feel and there's something about how I genuinely don't think something that wasn't as accidental and beautiful and messy and painful and earnest and flawed and unique as the dream smp could ever capture that feeling. And I think I love it for that. And I think I love the epilogue for representing that. And I think the dream smp said I love you and goodbye to its viewers with that epilogue and I think I said it back.

[toruro]

— ✧ angel

pt.2

pairing: kim mingyu x reader

description. in which you’re mingyu’s girlfriend, so sweet and innocent that he can’t help but ruin you.

tags. smut (18+), boyfriend!mingyu, corruption kink, loss of virginity, size kink, bulge kink, dacryphilia, pure filth honestly, but also kinda fluffy w/c. 1.8k

"angel," your boyfriend coos, lifting his head from between your legs as you lean back into the soft cushions of his bed. your eyebrows are pinched together, eyes shut tight as you try to steady your erratic breaths. "angel," he murmurs more intensely again.

the finger that's on your clit has ceased the circular movements that drove you into your first orgasm, and now are being traced down into your soaked folds. you twitch at the feeling, pussy still oozing with your cum and and mingyu's saliva, the two mixing into hot and filthy and dripping mess that has mingyu's brain circuits rewiring.

"m-mingyu," you manage to say meekly, finally opening your eyes to look down at your boyfriend who seems encapsulated by the fluttering petals of your cunt.

"you taste so good baby," mingyu praises, pushing himself up, bare upper body muscles flexing as he does so, crawling up and sliding his tongue into your mouth. you taste yourself against him, moaning at the way his arms cage around you, holding you down. "can't believe i'm the only person who ever gets to taste you," he mutters, pulling away.

your cheeks burn at the words—yeah, he just ate you out like you were the last meal he'd ever have, but having him say such stuff is embarrassing and...it's turning you on. "only yours, gyu," you affirm, reaching up to hold one of his hands.

mingyu watches the way you squirm at his dirty words, grinning because yeah you're his sweet, innocent girl, and yeah he's gonna fuck you silly until you can't think about anything but him.

the way your fingers lace with his remind him that you're here with him and that he's gonna do everything and anything to make sure that after tonight, you're never even going to think about wanting anyone else—he already knows your heart belongs to him (as does his to you), but somethings need to be fucked into you for good measures, right?

"you think you're ready, angel?" mingyu asks, and the look in his eyes is so sincere you forget about how you know he's going to pounce once you give him the green light. he's already slipping off his boxers and fuck, his cock springing free—you've seen it before (had it in your mouth two nights before when mingyu taught you how to give a blowjob) but now, this is different. you shudder at the thought of something so long, so thick, so perfect inside of you. all you can manage in response to him is a dumb nod of your head, eyes zoning in on his length as you feel heat pool at your core.

"i need words, baby," mingyu says sternly, directing your gaze back towards his face.

"yeah gyu, 'm ready," you agree quickly, hooking your arms under your knees so you can pull them up next to your chest, your pretty pussy all swollen and sticky displayed in front of him.

"fuck," he hisses when he sees your eyes glossy and lips puffy, shuffling forward as he sits up on his knees, he guides his cock between your legs, wasting no time to slide it between your folds. you let out a small squeak at the sound and fuck mingyu thinks he can cum from that sound alone.

you're just so cute and so sweet and so in love with him and the thought that he's going to be the first and the only one to experience this with you has his mind racing.

he covers his length in your wetness for a few moments and then he's slipping the tip upwards so it nudges against your clit. the stimulation has you jerking a little on the bed, and mingyu chuckles at your reaction. "so fucking cute," he mumbles, before you furrow your eyebrows and glance down at what he's doing.

when the realization dawns on you, your eyes almost roll to the back of your head.

mingyu's sliding his length past your clit and up your stomach so far that his balls press against your core.

he's sizing you up.

he's trying to see just how far in he's going to be, just how deep he's going to fuck you, and by the looks of it, it's gonna be pretty fucking deep. mingyu lets out a breathy laugh, and you find yourself growing more and more desperate by the second. "gyu, please," you beg, shifting your hips so he can get the message. "wanna feel you so bad."

"me too angel, me too," he tells you, still staring down at the way his cock is so big it's reaching your stomach. your hand is still intertwined with his, and he brings it up next to your head so it's pinned down. "tell me if you want to stop, yeah? promise you'll tell me?"

"i promise." mingyu shifts above you after your words, and then you feel his his arm tip prod against your sopping cunt and that's when you know it's coming.

you suck in a breath when he pushes in, and even with the prep from his fingers and his tongue, mingyu feels so big and so full inside of you. "oh my god," you gasp as he pushes in further, looking up at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

kim mingyu is looking down at you with nothing less than pure adoration and absolute hunger.

your walls are hugging him so tight and you're so warm and—god he can't take this anymore—you're looking up at him with your mouth slightly open with small, breathy moans escaping your lips, and then there's those tears slipping from the corners of your eyes and an odd sense of pride fills his body.

he continues to sink his length into you, murmurings words of praise like, "you're doing so good baby," or, "just a little more angel, you can do it," and, "that's a good girl, my good girl," finally stilling once he's bottomed out.

your legs are shaking around his torso and mingyu massages the flesh of your thighs as he kisses you softly, doing his best to dull the ache that resides in your lower half.

"you feel so big—feel so full gyu," you moan absentmindedly after he pulls his lips away, and mingyu has to collect all the self control he's ever had to not snap his hips back and pound right into you. he lets out a heavy breath, dropping his head down so your foreheads can touch.

"god—fuck—you can't say shit like that," mingyu warns, and the way your eyes flicker up toward his all sparkly and innocent has his mouth running on a mind of its own. "i'm going to ruin you."

the way you squeeze him like a vise after his statement has mingyu groaning, rocking his hips into yours, a strangled moan escaping your lips. for a second, mingyu is scared that he's crossed a limit, but when he looks down at the drool that's dribbling down your chin and feels your fingers dig into the hard muscle of his back, he thinks otherwise.

"m-more," you manage out, swiveling your hips upwards so you chase more the feeling of mingyu's cock inside of you.

"angel, are you su—"

"you said you wanted to ruin me, right?" you beg desperately. "right gyu? so can you? please?" your voice is so raw and mingyu knows that he promised to fuck you silly, but it feels like he's the one who might just get lost in pleasure.

he wastes no time dragging his full length out of you, giving you less than a second's break before plunging his cock back in. your back arches off the mattress, chest pushing impossibly close to his as he grapples at your thigh, fucking you harder after every thrust.

your pussy is on fire in the best way possible—you've never felt so full before, and suddenly you're left wondering if you're ever going to be able to go on without having mingyu's cock buried deep inside of you.

squelching of your pussy's fluids echos through the room, in harmony with the slap of mingyu's skin against yours every time he sinks back into you. his length is pressing up, so massive inside of you, that you can feel every curve, every vein, and the intimacy of this all already has that hot, familiar knot bubbling up in your core.

"oh my god," you gasp, throwing your head back as mingyu adjusts his hips, hitting a new spot inside of you that has your nails pressing hard into the skin of his back. "oh my—fuck, mingyu!" you cry out as he leans up a little, moving his hands from yours and gripping your hips.

he's pulling your body into his with every snap of his hips, and the way your babbling on and on about how good, how full, how amazing this all feels—mingyu feels his own orgasm bubble up at the thought that he was somehow able to make his perfect girlfriend even more insatiable.

with his head lifted further away from you now, mingyu is able to glance over the full form of your body, and that's when he sees it. the sight has him stilling his movements, and through your cries, you look up at him with confusion. he reaches over, grabbing your hand and placing it on you stomach, and you instinctively run your palm over your lower belly until you feel it.

your head shoots up to look at it and there it is—the outline of mingyu's cock prodding against your stomach and all that's racing through your mind is 'mingyu, mingyu, mingyu.'

and then he's spilling out dirty words of his own as he pulls back and continues to the fuck into you, the imprint of his length disappearing and appearing every few moments when he thrusts back into, just as hard, just as deep as the one before.

"what a fucking angel," he grunts, "making room for my cock—fuck you're sucking me in," he moans as you clench around him, the coil that sizzles inside of you threatening to snap. "are you gonna cum baby? do it, fucking drench me angel."

and then you let go.

thrashing in his hold, you ride out your orgasm with fluttering walls and high pitches moans as mingyu fucks you through it, the sight of you reaching your end throwing him off his own. the feeling of hot, sticky cum shooting inside your fucked through cunt has you moaning, "mingyu! mingyu!"

hearing the way you call out his name, mingyu, in his post-orgasmic state, smiles to himself, watching you come down from your second high of the night.

in that moment, with your tear stained cheeks, limp limbs, and swollen pussy, mingyu knows that you were made just for him, and he would fuck you a million times over and more if it meant having you by his side.

a/n. hope u liked it! please leave likes/comments and reblog! pt.2 is right here!

[darthgloris]

2AM THOUGHTS #6: Anakin confesses to Y/N on accident

"Okay, what the fuck was that for?" Anakin demanded as he closed the door behind them.

"What do mean? I was protecting you!" She defended.

"And I was protecting you! You nearly died!" He yelled, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"I don't need you to protect me, Anakin! I'm not a child!" She snapped, crossing her arms. "It was for the sake of the mission, all right? If I have to die for the cause, then so be it."

Those words seemed to make something click inside him. The fact that she would even think that some mission was more meaningful than her own life made his blood boil. He sauntered over to her, a flash of anger in his eyes that had never been directed at her scared her a little, and she walked backwards until her back hit the wall. "Don't you dare say anything of the sort ever again."

The small tinge of fear in her eyes as he looked down at her made his face soften and guilt took over him. The last thing he ever wanted was to make her fear him, and he felt disappointed in himself for treating her like this. He'd die for her, they both knew that.

He shook his head and sighed, stepping away from her. "Look, you're not less valuable than the Order. And you're certainly not going to try and protect me again."

"I'm always going to try to save you. There's nothing you can do to stop me. If you didn't do so many reckless things, maybe I wouldn't have to!" She replied, hands on her hips as she looked at him sternly.

"Then I'm not going to stop trying to protect you!"

"Why?! You're a Jedi, you're a General now, there are so much more important things at stake than my life right now!"

"Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay?! But it happened and I can’t do shit about it!" He yelled and the words reverberated in the room as he froze. Y/N also paused, her breath shaking as the words sunk in.

"You… what?" She breathed out, shocked.

"I- I- uh... I didn't mean to say that..." he stuttered out, terrified of her reaction. If she left him, he wouldn't be able to live with himself, and Ahsoka... Maker, he couldn't even imagine how heartbroken she'd be.

"Is it not true?" She asked, her brain barely registering his words.

"No, no, it is, I just..." he sighed mid-sentence, burying his face in his hands to avoid looking at her. "I didn't want you to find out like this."

"Oh, stars..." she sighed, leaning on the table for stability. "How... when..?"

"Does it really matter?" He asked, tentatively stepping closer.

"I... wow. I mean, you..." she could barely put a sentence together. "Anakin Skywalker... with me?"

"Of course I am. You're amazing," he said, tipping her chin to make her meet his eyes. "You're smart as a whip, you're kind, you're caring, you're beautiful, and, Maker, you're so great with Ahsoka that she almost loves you more than me, heh. I mean, how can anyone not want you?"

"Oh, Anakin..." she said, her heart swelling at his words. "You're so sweet. No man has ever treated me as well as you do."

"Really..?" He asked. His brain failed to comprehend how anyone could ever treat her with anything but love and respect.

"Yes. You're just so thoughtful, you remember the little things about me, and Maker, you melted my heart when I bled through my robes and you gave me your cloak to cover it up. I mean, every other guy just got grossed out and walked away." She recalled, cupping his cheek and nuzzling her nose with his.

He sighed shakily as he felt her breath fanning over his face. He was dangerously close to her, and he knew that he didn't have enough self-control to resist kissing her. "Um... may I?"

"Please." She whispered. He gave her a soft, gentle kiss on the lips that encapsulated all the pent-up feelings he harboured for her. When they pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers, slowly opening his eyes to look at her with lovestruck eyes.

"Was that okay?" He asked, caressing her face.

"It was perfect, Ani." She said and pulled his lips back to hers. He squeaked adorably in surprise and helped her hop onto the table, sliding between her thighs as he wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer.

She couldn't get enough of him, and he certainly could never get enough of her.

Ahsoka was going to be thrilled.

[lutethebodies]

The Misunderstood Blunt Instrument

Two Minthara posts from yesterday (this one about the glorious new wallpapers and this one about her weapons and armor) got me thinking about The Mace as her weapon of choice. If I recall correctly the fandom has touched on bits of it already, so I won't go too long on this (and forgive me if it's been mentioned already), but other than the two cited above my brief searches haven't yielded anything new. And what I got thinking about was how ditching the maces upon recruitment is almost essential.

Personally I never retain them as her melee weapons, for both mechanical and RP reasons. For the first it's because I routinely respec her to a Dex-based build and of course maces are Str-based. The second reason is because (and forgive me if I’m late to the party here) that as a paladin she’s a blunt instrument for whatever deity she’s sworn to: Lolth, the Absolute, etc. And once she’s free of both, she’s free to choose how to defend herself and/or her friends/lovers among the companions.

As noted here, the mace itself may be two fun call-backs in one—both to her EA version as a cleric and, as dual-wielded by an exile, to Drizzt's "draa velve" fighting style (and I'll take their word for it because I may be the only over-40 D&D fan who hasn't read Salvatore's books). But representing this with maces feels specifically like a reductive and more brutish or ugly choice—and the perfect encapsulation for what she's become while enthralled.

The Absolute (and/or the three Chosen) has sanded down all the complexities of Minthara's character into the "mad dog" epithet Ketheric dumps on her during her trial. I'd add (based on much better arguments by much smarter fans) that for the casual BG3 player this is all she is and all she'll ever be, especially (as she notes after Orin's death) that if Tav/Durge had killed her, that would indeed be her fate.

The mace is also a symbol of Minthara's pre-tadpoled hubris of privilege, arrogance, and elitism in that it's the deadweight of how her life up to that point had sculpted her to precisely this outcome. A symbol of her trauma. "How the mighty have fallen" is a cliché, sure, but it's a cliché precisely because it's true and happens so often. The schadenfreude that fellow envious Lolth-sworn might feel when encountering this manic, raving caricature of their own culture! The shock that anyone who knew her from her previous life might feel about how she's changed for the worse! She says as much when candidly later admitting that pride is one of her sins.

The mace is a great choice for an enthralled Minthara, but that makes it (for me) necessary to abandon when she's a companion. The mace helps further that convenient, simplistic, reactive, and reductive way of writing her off as just another male-hating Drow dominatrix. It helps any player confirm lazy priors about her, which might be why she's both blithely dismissed by some and jealously policed by others.

So that's why I always ditch those weapons and re-arm her with Phalar Aluve. It may be just as reductive, but I think it fits, because 1) it's a fab finesse weapon for Dex-based builds, 2) fuck you Lolth, this is a weapon of Eilistraee and Minthara will wield it at you if you come for her and anyone she loves, and 3) fuck you Absolute, she is not your blunt instrument anymore, and she will smite you with something entirely different and with extreme prejudice.

[waffowo]

I cannot stop thinking about how Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain ironically fits as the missing link of the Metal Gear Solid franchise by being this ambivalent and spiteful text that could only be possible because it exists after Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns Of The Patriots.

Like think about it. MGS4 is Kojima’s perfect farewell in how it encapsulates his complex relationship towards his own series, his own cynical but still very much hopeful take on The Irishman (2019) if you will. The game simultaneously reveals Kojima’s hope and affection by pulling every known idiosyncracy to a hyperbolic degree but also his exhaustion and suspicion through Snake being not a hero but an old killer and his reflections on his role as a pioneer of the military-stealth genre within the gaming industry. It even seeks to tackle the behemoth of closing at least the majority of the loose narrative threads. As a consequence, any future game is attacked with the question of purpose since Kojima has already said what he needed to say. 

Through this question is how MGSV can even be allowed to exist because it affirms that the question is rhetorical. The game chronologically exists in a liminal space in the middle, neither here nor there. It even narratively exists as a structural ouroboros, a almost completely closed system which begins and ends on a mirror. Kojima elevates this sentiment to an extreme level by denying any kind of player satisfaction (or nostalgia) by still being an encapsulation of a lot of overarching themes now filtered through a lens of condemnation. 

 There is at least this sense of valour found in the main cast of MGS4. There might not be any heroes but you can tell that at the end of the game, there is a sense of dignity. MGSV works completely opposite to that. The central cast of MGSV is so pathetic that the game plays like a tragicomedy as they aimlessly wander about, overdosing on some serious fucking copium that taking revenge will bring peace. A particular venture you know that’s doomed but can’t help but watch. Phantom Paz expresses this so unsubtly yet so perfectly in her final cassette tape. Peace Day is always going to be a mirage and has been even since the Peace Walker days, it’s just that Kojima doesn’t always focus on the other reality that these people are all still terrorists and war criminals. 

People who expected Big Boss instead got a confused, empty and depressed war criminal who can be found roleplaying as a cowboy. His other hobbies include non-stop vaping and managing war criminal spreadsheets. Mission 43 doesn’t feel like a descent into evil because Venom is already kind of evil but instead works by acting in perfect opposition to Chapter 1 where you sort through your digital files to identify patterns and promptly send them to death in the quarantine ward. He’s so high up the military hierarchy that of course he can’t help but have a crisis when he is directly confronted with the physical reality he used to be able to meet with mechanical detachment. 

Venom Snake also serves as a perfect way to comment on the overarching theme of agency. However, there’s no final monologue to tell you to think for yourself, no Raiden throwing away the dog tags, no Naked Snake refusing to shake an official’s hand. Instead all these typical moments are denied in every way possible to the point it’s very funny. Venom is not only a castrated protagonist but is also basically a preprogrammed AI with no hope to break free because he’s narratively doomed. Your actions don’t really matter. Even funnier, the ending is perfect by hitting you with the “you, the player, were the war criminal all along” that heightens the tragicomic beats through recontextualisation. What is more mortifyingly funny than realising that you’ve just been playing as Raiden AGAIN but instead of someone that exists beyond the player you have become canonised as an in-world character complicit in perpetuating imperialism. This works so well with how if you listen to the tapes and mission briefings closely, you realise that there are so many contradictions that no one are bringing up. Everyone is lying to you and everyone is telling the truth but it doesn’t matter. Venom just captures the disorientated position of the player, caught in this Pynchonesque paranoid labyrinth that it leaves you confused and speechless. What other choice do you have but to smoke a fat one, it’s not like you can actually resist the game if you’re completely out of the loop. 

Aside from Venom, there is of course Huey who has descended into full on pathological lying and delusion. Even if he didn’t cause the second outbreak, he’s so overwhelmed by guilt and paranoia by his other crimes he’s most likely guilty of that he’s able to beat the truth serum. When you’re rescuing Huey, he literally blames you for the destruction of the MSF. Like literally as you’re hauling ass to get him out. Even more pathetic is Kaz who makes these grand statements alongside Venom about taking revenge that you know doesn’t mean shit. His monologues are so passionate and are so depressing and yet he is met with awkward silence constantly that it’s depressingly funny. 

There’s this amazing usage of comedic timing, after you rescue Kaz and bring him back to Mother Base, where he monologues and says, “Dogs of war for nine whole years…that ends today. Now you’re not sleeping, and we’re not junkyard hounds. We’re Diamond Dogs.” The swelling of the music at the last moment is instantly followed by Kaz being shut the fuck up by a medic who puts an oxygen mask on him and lies him down. No one responds to the speech. Ocelot merely only talks to stop the medic and allow Kaz to get a few more words in out of pure pity. Likewise, Kaz’s extreme cognitive dissonance as he believes he can return to the good old days is so pitiful and poignant you can’t help but to stare with sympathy. 

The end of Chapter 1 shows how far gone he is with a very clever cut as Venom turns away from a vision of Skullface where Skullface is replaced by Kaz himself. Chapter 2 then logically shows him becoming full on paranoid, going full on 1984 Minister of Truth because what else does he have left if he doesn’t have an object of revenge anymore? I remember a moment, where he’s calling you, with this sense of manic fanaticism as he rambles to Venom that it’s time to dig up dirt on Huey and finally get him out for good. It becomes so absurd that even OCELOT tells him to shut the hell up. 

Ocelot is maybe the only normal person on board but that title means nothing in-universe. He’s thriving because he’s happily going along with War On Terror 2. He’s normal because he flat out embraces this and even goes out with his crush dressed as a cowboy. Of course there won’t be those moments where he’s of central dramatic focus here, he is simply here for the ride, his true goal to win the game of 8D chess for the man he’s down bad for. 

This band of losers are completely devoid of real purpose and are so…beta and it works because of how it both confronts an equally important reality of the characters not usually as overt and how MGS4 already closing off the franchise sets up how MGSV’s narrative and characters are already and should be dead. Peace is only possible in the case of war criminals when they’ve been buried. Evoking dissatisfaction might not always be intentional and is sometimes accidental but it works because there is no real satisfaction in beating a dead horse just to see your faves perform one more song. Especially if they already aren’t good people.

[yannaryartside]

CLAIRE'S LOVE VS NARCISSISTIC LOVE

I was reading Tú no eres el problema: Entiéndete y sana tras el vínculo con psicópatas y narcisistas by psicologist de Elizabeth Clapés and some of the descriptions of the love of a narcisistic person sounded very familiar.

I would like to start this by saying that I don't think Claire is a narcissist (she has centered Carmy too much for that to be the case, in my opinion, I could be wrong, but I doesn't feel right).

Yet, this book does a good job of describing manipulative behavior that can seem harmless.

We have discussed the possibility of Claire manipulating Carmy. The fact that she has feelings for him is not a reason to discard the possibility of manipulation; she may be doing all these things because she genuinely thinks she and what she is doing is the best for him. While gaining his affection in the process. For some people, manipulation may be justified by the means. they may not even call it manipulation. The fact that she "loves him" doesn't mean she didn't force the relationship into being, or she may be playing a part in getting what she wants. There may not be malice, but there may be an unhealthy approach to gaining someone's affection. That is what I am getting at.

content warning: discussions of experiences having a narcissistic romantic partner.

Disclaimer: I do not have much to say here, but to list the behaviors listed in this book that could be relevant. I have been influenced by other posts analyzing Claire's behavior; but I understand that this may be assuming the worst from a character we still don't know much about. The author of this book encapsulates narcissism and psychopath behavior to help people identify these tendencies. I am using this list only to indicate the manipulation that can come from someone determined to get a relationship in an unhealthy way. I will be paraphrasing and translating. In the book, the "love interest" of a narcissist is referred to as their "victim," so I will be using that term.

BEHAVIORS OF A NARCISSISTIC WHILE PURSUING A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP.

Show only the best of themselves.

Love bombing, creating a perfect castle customized for the victim's wounds. They know what the other person needs and modify themselves to fit their needs.

Only when the narcissist is sure that the other person has developed feelings for them would they start talking about the mistakes they made, but always showcasing the pain that those mistakes caused them and downplaying the consequences it may have for other people involved. (This could be demonstrated by Claire downplaying (IMO) the fact that she almost killed a fucking kid, but made a whole story of how that affected her emotionally). This scene happened after the relationship was established.

Using family members of the victims to get access to them (telephone number, talking about how the Faks would beat him up for rejecting her).

Making the victim feel like they are doing them a favor by being with them. That they are too good for them.

The relationship starts when the victim is going through a really difficult time in their life.

The victims fall in love with the way the narcissist treats them, presenting themselves as the ideal partner.

All this to say, there is a space for discussing the fact that Carmy is a person with highly integrated self-hate and little to no significant social experience or experience creating healthy bonds with people outside his family. Then he falls in love with the "perfect girl" with no needs and is always in the mood to attend to his needs. He is a typical victim of narcissistic people. If Claire had been a man, many more people in the audience would have raised an eyebrow at Claire's tactics to get to Carmy.

Not to mention, the only apparent narcissist in the series is Donna, and the mechanic of love bombing their kids after making mistakes instead of taking accountability is a typical behavior of narcissistic parents. There is also the possibility that Carmy was able to accept Claire's love because he was familiar with the love bombing, but since she told him there was no other shoe (Donna's eventual mood swing), he may think this is the real deal (hence the peace comment).

Anyhow, this may be nothing. But it feels to much of a coincidence indeed to be nothing. If Storer is creating this story based on his experience (he was casted out of his family I understand) he has to be aware of manipulation techniques and the vulnerable position declining mental health puts you in with those individuals. You are telling me they could not engineer another way for Claire to pursue Carmy? Or all those things other blogs have rightfully called red flags, particularly in her profession where she has lives in her hands? Idk.

[ghost-bxrd]

GIRL CODED JASON !!!!! HI HELLO OMG TUMBLR USER AND AMAZING AO3 WRITER GHOST BIRD YOUR POSTS AND STORIES JUST ACTIVATE BRAINWORMS IN MY HEAD 😭😭😭😭 holy fuck hi I'm too shy to come off anon but I love the discussions you've been having, so just chipping in !!!

I love the many many looks on how people interpret him being girl-coded, exploring his feelings towards domestic violence, towards victims, women etc, extremely good points that you brought up ! And I'd like to bring up that on a more meta level, the way his character is treated by DC and by people in canon as a whole is also so... girl-coded ? Going to try my best to articulate since eng is my 3rd language 😔😔 Sorry if it's not consise 😭😭 I have FEELINGS AAAAAAAAAAAA

I think the core of this "girl-codedness" stems from a few things, two things I can point to currently are how he's treated as a victim and fridging. Fridging is the easier one to see imo, it's something that's usually associated with female characters but fits Jason a lot. It's not about him and his trauma/pain being feminine inherently (nothing can be categorised in that way honestly) but how it's dealt with by people and the narrative.

Let's take a look at its counterpart which is 'Dead Men Defrosting' trope coined by John Barton. Here's the source for that: https://www.lby3.com/wir/r-jbartol2.html, and a quote from the Women in Refridgerators website I feel is really encapsulates this whole situation.

"...women heroes are altered again and never allowed, as male heroes usually are, the chance to return to their original heroic states. And that's where we begin to see the difference."

Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Additionally, the grief that his death bought is made to be even more objectifying than it should have been. It's made to be Bruce's and everyone else's more than it is Jason's. The image of the dead character is, by necessity, distorted and is served as fuel towards a different character. He's reduced to his death and the pain associated with it is milked for like... 16 yearsish??? A perverted memorial, a perverted memory, an altered legacy. He was just 15. A boy. (Still, I wouldn't say Jason was fridged per say, as the term is created in reference to female characters and they have little to no agency in their stories there, but that 'feel' is there. So I understand where the girl-codedness comes from!)

It’s that the way a lot of characters treat him and a lot of the tropes used on him are things that are typically associated with feminine characters. It's also about how he's treated since he's not a perfect victim. Every attempt Jason has made to express his pain and his anger just gets him labelled as emotional, unreasonable and hysterical (which are again, unfortunately terms associated with women.)

There's many different points people have brought up about Jason, such as his bleeding compassion as Robin, the tears at the end of UTRH, and so on. Nonetheless, I think there's a lot of nuance that comes with gender discussions, since these things are deeply personal to people, and there's disagreements to be had. And that's cool !! There's many points loads of other people also being to the table that I love !! Contradictions too !!

Anyhow, so many cool PPL and analysis these days,,, ILY ANON WHO BROUGHT UP TITANS TOWER (anonanonanon pls chip in again and my life will be URS) Also ILY TUMBLR USER MAGIC-CRAZY-AS-THIS FOR PUTTING THE WEDDING DRESS IMAGERY IN MY HEAD, ALSO ILY GHOSTBIRD FOR THAT AMAZING REPLY AND ANALYSIS,, I LOVE THIS LITTLE POCKET OF COMMUNITY U HAVE CREATED this is so beloved 🥺🥺🥺💞💞💞💞

All very good points!

I don’t have much to add here except perhaps the argument with the memorial case. You’re absolutely right. I never realized how similar it is to the classic hero trope of protagonist mourning their dead love interest/family and dedicating their entire life to a memory of them, citing the actions they take to be in honor of the dead person.

On one hand, I tend to enjoy that trope. On the other hand with Jason, it all became horribly twisted so very quickly and lead to a hard downward spiral of Bruce having a real assholish phase.

But yeah that’s a whole other can of worms better left unopened for now ksksks.

I’m very happy you’re enjoying this blog 💚 it’s honestly super rewarding to hear people say that when it was one of the main goals to have this be a safe and harmonious space for everyone 💚💚✨

[woodlaflababab]

So, I like kataang a lot, but I feel like I might have a bit of an unconventional view on them? Like I don't really understand the "Tui and La, Push and Pull" dynamic people will talk about for them, especially when zukaang takes up like, 75% of my brain. (Edit, @chocomd in a reblog explained the push/pull concept to me and its actually great, plz check it out, I was wrong kendjdndn)

One of the things that makes me like kataang so much is they're, to me, not based on a archetype really? Like, they're not opposites, but they're also hardly the same, they're not two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together, they're each their own shape and their love is purely that, love. Little else, and I've found a song that I think perfectly encapsulates the way I see Kataang.

At My Back by Madds Buckley (Spotify Vers.)

And I want to go over just a few of the lyrics to point out what I mean.

If you're the sun, I don't want to be the moon, the moon's too far away from you, I'd rather envelope you in the bluest of skies

You don't have to be opposites to compliment eachother. There is nothing opposite about the sun and the sky, but they're not matches either, they're just two things that come together to make something beautiful

Don't say opposites attract, I'd rather fight you over things we both like

Katara and Aang like so many of the same things and I think there's something to be said about that kind of connection. Also, we need to appreciate getting to geek out about and debate about shared intrest more? I love the silly fights I have with my dad over atla (a big one being whether suki is a part of the gaang or not) I love talking with friends that have interpreted a scene different and getting to debate it all. I feel like Katara and Aang would get to do these things a lot. They'd be the couple that shares fandoms and ships sksjdjdn

Don't make up for what I lack, I don't need a missing piece, just someone at my back

While I do think kataang do make up for parts the other lacks, their relationship isn't built on that. It's built on the fact that they're ride or die for eachother, that they back eachother up. They're partners in crime. They're so fuckin jwbdjsnf gung ho for eachother fuck I love them so much

And if you're the left shoe, I can't be the right, I'm just another pair that's just a little tight when I get moody

Jsbfjnsnd I fuckin, love this line. They're both their own people, a full pair of shoes on their own, (and they're both so moody when they want to be) and they love eachother at their worst, no matter how moody. They don't expect eachother to be some other half of them, they just love eachother for who they are, as simple as that

Just be my friend, and when the night is cold get close

My favorite thing about them is that they are built on such a strong foundation of friendship. They are best friends first, lovers second, and I think that's how any good relationship should be. Just be friends, and let romance be a part of loving eachother, getting close and sharing in struggles and, of course, cuddles

The rest of the song is also supeerrrr kataang imo, or at least how I see them. It's super sweet and I highly recommend checking it out if you're ever looking for kataang songs.

But yeah, it's like, The Kataang Song for me. I love these two so much, they make me so emotional. So sweet and perfect and just kshdjdndj ugh ugh ugh

[ipostmysimpingstuffanonymously]

Another post? damn

I was on vacation a few weeks back and had no internet so I downloaded all Fanfciton that were Satoru/Shoko tagged and rated them.

Here are the ones I rated 5/5 ... so i guess this is a ff recommendation post lol

The delicate art of flirting

3rdgymbros

Words: 1,960, Satosho, 5/5

This is so good. I love that the first years get brought into the infirmary and they just KNOW ahahahahah. Also it’s just this casual side thing but there something so much deeper that i hurts which i like about this ship

Like a lost shirt

Lua

Words:1,520, Satosho, 5/5

I am a sucker for raw and "practical" relationships. Like this is exactly how I imagine them to grieve for Suguru and I love that so much can be left unsaid but the reader and Satoru and Shoko both just know. What they have isn't healthy but it's the only thing they can have. A happy and healthy relationship with someone else would just simply not work. They are both too fucked up for that.

Sorry about the blood in your mouth (i wish it was mine)

Her_black_tights

Words: 17,761 Sashisu/ Satosho 5/5

So I am biased on this one cuz this is one of my headcanons. That Suguru fucked around with both and that his absence is why Gojo and Shoko are a thing. And I feel like this fic perfectly encapsulates the hurt, the brokenness and the necessity of their relationship. Like this is how they cope and its messy and unhealthy and i love it

Listen I love you joy is coming

Antioedipus

Words:3,938 Satosho 5/5

This one is cute. Nah cute is the wrong word, they are goblins but it’s nice. They are both fucked up which is funny. Also 100% can see that Shoko doesn't have the emotional capacity to console a crying woman but still would do the right thing even if she doesn't think it’s the right thing. 

Work and not run (skip and not fall)

Aminstrel

Words:2,300 Satosho 5/5

Love this! Cute! Exactly how i Imagine them. Also match cut? Peak comedy hahahaha goblin energy.

Catalyst

tiressian

Words:4,170 Satosho 5/5

AYOOOOO first tiressian ff. i remember reading this and having gotten new horizons opened xD Anyway: love it, super nice character interaction. Love it when Gojo is stumbling over his words, a tiressian special! Also love the aftermath, hilarious but sweet.

To my significant (b)other

Tiressian

Words: 6,621 Satosho 5/5

Another banger! Back to back? Spoiled honestly. I love this one just because it makes so much sense that she writes a list. Also Gojo high as balls is hilarious. Then the whole dialogue at the wedding with the chaste touches omg my skin is prickling. Love it.

Warmth

Satoluvs

Words:2,663 Satosho 5/5

I LOVE THIS. Omg adopted Yuji has my heart. Also consoling somebody by not talking it out but taking them in giving them affection to cure the sadness omg. Also also Satoru and Shoko just dating super casually i looooovee it.

Breathing underwater 

Shrimphony

Words:1,848 Sashisu/ Satosho 5/5

This one hurts so much omg. And this could easily be canon. Idk why Gege does not show us Shoko’s grief more…. Like even if it's platonic how can she not find solace in Gojo still being there hmm? And then when Gojo, Nanami and Yaga get ripped from her, that must have destroyed her…

Shore 

Tiressian

Words:7,161 Satosho 5/5

VERY TASTY thank you for the meal. I love their dynamic. Back with the tiressian special. Also Shoko making him do push ups, same girl same i get it. Love the banter, it makes so much sense.

Epoch

Tiressian

Words:6,341 Satosho 5/5

Yum, yes, very nice. Love cheerleader Gojo, he has my heart, that poor dude. No other comments it's perfect

Call it a hunch

Tiressian

Words: 5,560 Satosho 5/5

I think this is one of my favourites hahhaha. I love how panda is trying to convince everybody hahahahah. Also the snowball fight is glorious xD the little yuta/maki you slipped  in there, i see you hehehehe. And the end has me ROLLING HAHAHAHAH

It's the thought that counts 

Tiressian

Words: 2,182 Satosho 5/5

THE CUTEST ahhhh i love them i really really need to draw the three of them uff.

there's lots of 4/5 ones too that I'd recommend but i need to cap the list somewhere xD (the google doc has 12 pages wtf ahahahah) This is up for changes anyway :P but enjoy my recommendations xD

[gingerjolover]

hiii mama g!!! it’s my birthday today and so i’ve been thinking about what julien would be like on soft!gf’s birthday. first off, BIRTHDAY POST!!! (i’m taking her birthday post for herself into consideration while typing this) i think it’d be a slideshow of pictures, a couple that she’s taken of you and a couple that the boys or members of muna have taken of you. she’d definitely write a lengthy paragraph where every sentence is articulate and sooo meaningful to the point where it’s like your heart beats abnormally faster as you continue to read because she’s just SOOOO!!!!!!

secondly, i don’t really Imagine julien and soft!gf as hugeeee party people, so i don’t think they’d stay up at the strike of midnight waiting for soft!gf’s birthday. instead, i think julien wakes up at the crack of dawn, and obviously she knows how to cook, so she makes not only the most pleasing breakfast JUST to look at, but the most delicious breakfast for the both of them. so then soft!gf wakes up to julien, who’s already smiling ear to ear holding a tray table and setting it down before just peppering you with kisses and saying happy birthday in between each kiss I CANTTTTT IM FEELING ALL FUZZY shes so cutesie

and 24/7 on your bday, acts of service julien just never stops. she does every minor thing you’re so capable of doing for you. finished your breakfast? julien’s already taken it to the kitchen and washing the dishes. dropped something? she’s bent down to grab it for you. also, even though she already does this, she makes sure to open every single door for you, pull out the chair you’re gonna sit at, open the car door for you… like she is ON IT!

and then after having made sure she’s done (almost……) everything in her power to ensure that the day was all about you, there’s just oneeee more thing she was waiting to do to realllyyyy show how much she loves you…….. you get the VIBES! won’t say too much on that cause i’ve already talked your ear off and once i start, i won’t be able to stop BUT YEAHHHH JULIEN ON SOFT!GF’S BDAY ☹️☹️☹️💘

first off, HAPPY BDAY BABY!!!!! I hope you had SUCH a great day<3

and you are soooooooo right, i fully believe that acts of service is julien’s main love language (i have a blurb coming up about love languages for munagenius) and your birthday is the PERFECT excuse for her to literally wait on you hand and foot

as for the insta post i think you’re 1000% right and i can literally imagine julien scrolling through her album of you (of pics she’s taken but also ones that she’s been sent of you from muna or the boys or mutual friends) she would be so fucking picky about which photos to post making sure they encapsulate your personality perfectly and you’re right the post would be so beautiful and so heartwarming 😭 i think she would take the time to post the pics of your initials on her finger or a tattoo she got for you with you like posing cheekily with a thumbs up next to her or something

and i agree, unless it was a big birthday i can’t imagine them throwing a party but maybe if your best friend was in town or maybe your family or if it was a bigger bday and the boys, muna, kelli and ally and other friends wanted to do something for you it would still be super lowkey and julien would spend the whole day with you beforehand

she gives off the vibes of like if you open your door yourself she leans over, closes it and then runs to your side of the car like a bullet and then opens it, she def gets grumbly when you try and do stuff yourself

and I GET THE VIBES BABE I DO, i think she would just want it to be extra special and do everything you wanna do (she def makes a birthday sex playlist with an obsecure name i will die on this hill)

i also wanted to add she def wants to do everything for you on your bday, i think canonically soft!gf and julien don’t exchange gifts, like not big ones, mainly because they both do a lot of little things throughout the year, but julien ALWAYS spoils you on your bday, its usually stuff that’s practical but she loves to get you little things to watch you open in bed when your hair is all messy and eyes are sleepy, you’re like holding the covers up over your chest and she’s rubbing your back as you unwrap a bunch of little presents 🥹

[emsgwenstan]

Personal or professional?

Chap 1 | chap 2 | chap 3

Larissa Weems x fem(carpenter/joiner) named reader.

Words: 2k

Warnings: bodily issues, swearing.

Note: imma b honest I’m filling In for the parts I want to write. I’m not there yet. Just know there will be a few things coming within the next few chapters! Xx

———

Just as I was thinking about how ridiculously bold it was for me to put my number on that cup, I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket once I returned home.

‘Meet me at the weathervane in your lunch break tomorrow?~Larissa’

My eyes went wide as I re-read the message over and over until I realise that she can see if I’ve viewed it, I quickly replied.

‘Sure, 12:30? Are you sure you have time?’

Immediately it was seen and I waited in anticipation once the three little dots popped up.

‘That’s fine, even if I don’t I will always make time darling.”

I didn’t know exactly what to reply, so I just turned off my phone and threw it on my bed, I could feel my face flushing at the thought of her. I stripped off and got ready for a shower, the chill of the room raising goosebumps along my skin, the tile floor of the bathroom freezing the soles of my feet, stepping in, I let out a hum at the hot water encapsulating my body finally letting myself relax against the wall, ridding myself of the day, not that it was so bad.

Once out, dried off and dressed, I jump into bed not bothering with dinner, being far to exhausted to cook or order anything, I snuggle into my thick duvet and flick on the tv to half watch and listen to another true crime story. It isn’t always ideal to watch this stuff when I live alone, especially as a woman, but there’s something oddly calming about it, even if I get slightly paranoid. After a while I fell asleep at around 8:00pm, but woke at around 12 to turn the tv off.

———

The next morning I woke up earlier than usual to perfect my simple make up, applying a layer of foundation and mascara, the smallest bit of matte pink lipstick and to be sure to have every hair on my head in place held in a slicked back ponytail. ‘I just hope this will last for at least 8 hours, the next 4 don’t matter.’ I thought.

Throwing on my black jeans and fluoro pink work shirt, as well as a baggy pink and black work wear jacket, I glance at myself in the floor length mirror, every time I do I see nothing I like, nothing pretty, nothing special, I feel like I must be such a curiosity to other people, my job, my height, my weight, my strange mix of masculinity and femininity, I know I’m not skinny or thin but I’m not that big either, anymore at least. The stretch marks on my stomach, thighs and breasts are the things I try so hard to cover up. I can’t help but wonder why anyone would want to be with or associate around someone like me, even if I personally don’t discriminate against what people look like. That also brings me to ponder why Larissa asked to have lunch with me today.

I think my collar bone length, warm blond hair is probably the only thing I change often or really take care of, I try to do my nails and keep them clean and presentable, always painted in a nude pink, which is ironic considering i don’t actually like the colour. I change the studs in all of my piercings, rotating the gold from small hoops to diamonds. My hands are scared and calloused from 22 years of working with rough materials as well as my legs and forearms, I guess I’ve no need to be jealous or overthink about others body’s or physique’s I’m a grown woman after all, but the insecurity is always at the forefront of my mind.

After traipsing out of the house, I finally made it into work at 5am, turning on all the lights and compressors and the radio I listen to until 9, it goes off once my boss turns up. “No music in the factory Violet.” He’d say, which is bullshit, it’s so fucking boring without it. Walking into the shop’s kitchenette, I flick on the kettle to make my morning tea in a travel cup and tap my fingers on the bench in waiting. It’s already freezing today, the cold seeping through my layers of clothing and apparently the concrete walls, yesterday was warm enough to wear shorts and go without a jumper.

Consulting with my boss about the order needing to be placed for the cupboards going to nevermore was nauseating, It took a lot longer than usual because of all the questions he asked about yesterday afternoon. “So how was going to the school for strange kids yesterday?” He asked sarcastically, not looking up from his computer. “Their not strange, their just different to you. And it was fine, obviously got all the information we need.” I said annoyed. “Right.” After a long pause he spoke again. “Miss Weems seemed to enjoy your presence, she didn’t shut up about the stuff you showed her.” I was perplexed and rolled my eyes. “Well at least someone appreciates it.” I said under my breath looking down at my thighs picking bits of lint and sawdust off the material. He was quiet after that.

12:15 rolled around, I grabbed the keys to my personal car and popped back into his office to tell him I’m going on break, it was so nice on the short walk in the sun. I jumped in my black Mercedes sports car and made my way down the street, turning a few corners I parked outside the wethervane and locked the car before entering the cafe. Larissa wasn’t there yet, so I took a seat in a booth next to the large window with my back turned to the door.

Staring out the glass and watching the towns people walk about, some in tandem with each other holding hands, some parents with young children or strollers, a few elderly people walking in groups giving the impression of being friends for years going for a walk with their wife’s arms wrapped around there husbands. One in particular caught my attention, a young man who looks to be in his early 20s exiting the florist bearing a bunch of white roses, his demeanour riddled with nerves, he sat at a park bench close to the other side of the road, pulling out a little black box, he observed it for a moment before snapping it shut, than stood smoothing down his hair and blazer before walking away. A small smile crept on my face hoping all goes well for his next obvious destination, but it quickly faded in a realisation, which I wish to forget.

A hand on my shoulder ripped me out of my mind, turning my head around I see her. Larissa. A huge grin took over my face clearly out doing her small smile. “Afternoon violet.” She greeted. “Hi.” I responded sounding so high pitched I internally cringe at myself. Larissa placed her purse on the surprisingly unsticky table and takes a seat in front of me. “How are you darling.” She asked removing a black leather glove. “I’m alright, not particularly busy today which is pretty good but that just means the day will drag a lot longer, better now I’m here with you though.” I said, staring at her beautifully red painted nails. “Oh that’s horrible, you must get lonely in there by yourself no?” She stated. “It’s nice, but sometimes I wish I had someone to talk to. Don’t you get lonely? Being in your office?” I asked wondering why she’d worry about me when I’m sure she’s in the same position. “Not at all, I have teachers, students, parents, groundskeepers and just about every other kind of person in and out all day, sometimes it gets so frustrating I put a ‘do not disturb’ sign on my door just for at least five minutes of peace.” She exhaled slightly rolling her eyes at the thought, I nodded in understanding, chuckling softly at her annoyance.

Idle conversations flowed between the two of us before we were politely interrupted by a waiter handing over two menus. “What are you having.” I asked her. “A chicken Cesar salad. You?- Oh and I’m paying by the way… you bought me things yesterday.” She stated. “There’s no need really.” I answered. “I insist what would you like.” She pushed. “Probably just a grilled cheese.” I said. “No. Don’t think I don’t know that’s the cheapest thing here, get what you want sweetheart.” My pulse skipped then ran faster at her new term of endearment, I felt like I was melting from the inside out. “Fine I’ll just have the same as you please.” I settled, displaying a shy smile. I didn’t care about the food really, I don’t plan on letting her see me as a naive and difficult thing who can’t pay for myself or play her as a fool, I guess that’s just what happens when you’re completely independent for a long period of time. “Are you sure? you can have anything.” She asked again. “Positive, thank you.” Larissa waved over the previous waiter and ordered for the both of us, we ate once our meals arrived and sat in comfortable silence.

Larissa did in fact pay, she left no room for argument and we both walked out together into the fresh, crisp air and warm sun. “Do you need to go back just yet?” She asked. “No I think having a break over half an hour would be fine considering how much overtime I do that I don’t get payed for.” I chuckled trying to come off lighthearted, but it sounded more bitter than I intended. “What do you mean? What are your allocated hours?” Larissa stoped the slow pace causing me to walk a little in front and turn around to face her concerns. “Allocated… 7:30 to 5, but I usually get to work around 5 and finish at 7.” I said furrowing my brows. “Why?” I ask. Larissa was silent for a moment. “So your telling me you work 12 to 13 hours every day? When your only supposed to be doing 9 and a half?” She asked incredulously. “Yes.” I said almost immediately realising that wouldn’t seem right or normal to anyone else who doesn’t know what it’s like to do my job. I laughed at her, not in a rude way but at her worry. “How do you do that!? You work almost 70 hours a week!” Her eyes growing widder with the facts she’s coming to know. “I’m fine. I manage.” I simply said turning to walk a bit more for her to follow, at this point there is no destination.

“You look gorgeous today, channel right?” I asked, pulling my hand out of my pocket to point at her outfit, a ploy for a change of subject. “Yes, thank you. How did you know that?” She asked. “Just like I know your heels are louboutins, your watch is Valentino, your bracelet it Cartier and your broach is probably the hardest to guess I’m not quite sure about that one, but I know your necklace is personally made. Oh and your pearl earrings are vintage Tiffany & co.” I stated proudly hoping I wasn’t wrong. “You continue to surprise me Violet. First your this strong independent woman who can build an entire house and the interior with you bare hands and now your a fashion expert, what else don’t I know?” She said with an amuse smile. “There is a lot you don’t know about me Larissa, but what ls the fun in letting you in on all my secrets just yet? Who knows, I could be very boring.” I giggled. She shook her head gently and placed her gloved hand on my arm. “You are the most interesting person I’ve been around for quite some time darling, I don’t believe you could ever be a bore.” At that i blushed furiously letting out a foggy exhale.

Larissa was the epitome of ethereal, the way her eyes look so piercing in the sunlight almost as if they were so blue they could be mistaken for white, her porcelain skin illuminated as well as her platinum hair. Right now her nose and cheeks are flushed red and her lips displaying the same shade she had painted on herself, I hoped anyway, their a little swollen due to the cold. “Hey, can I ask you a random question?” I asked timidly hoping it’s not to weird. “Of course you can.” She said. “Do you…ahhh, do you have…someone, like-.” I struggled to spit it out. “A girlfriend, boyfriend, husband, wife, partner?… no sweetheart.” She continued on, laughing at my shy state. “Right… that what I was trying to say, and how is that, wouldn’t you have plenty of people lined up for you? surely.” I exaggerated. “So your a flatterer to I see.” She gasped feigning herself from being to serious.

About two seconds later Larissa looked away and her attention was taken by the front of the Jericho book shop and Library, she moved so quickly to snatch my wrist and drag me in the direction of the entrance. “Woah, you could have just asked me to come with you.” I just about snorted. “I’m sorry come on I haven’t been in her for ages, please!” The sparkle in her eyes showing unwavering hope. “Of course I’ll come I love books to ya know.” I grinned. “Well that’s another thing I just learned about you.” She said holding the door open for me.

It was so warm and cozy inside, the smell of a vanilla candle that was placed next to the register and the scent of paper was almost nostalgic, I hadn’t been in here for a while either. Larissa ended up in-front of me and I don’t think she realised she held out her hand behind her for me to take. After mild contemplation I took it, Larissa immediately tightened her grip, pulling me along with her to a section she clearly has been down before. She let go of my hand a crouched to the wooden floor removing her gloves again so she could feel the spines of the books.

Larissa was in her element, completely enraptured in her own world. I let her be and scanned the shelves above her, taking an interest to one that was a royal blue colour with gold embossed lettering, I placed my palm on her shoulder to stabilise myself and stood on my tip toes to reach it, admiring for a moment before I could read the blurb, Larissa gasped in excitement. “Yes, I found it!” She exclaimed. “What is it?” I asked. “I hid this book almost a year ago because I didn’t want to buy it at the time.” She said looking up at me. ‘she’s so bloody adorable.’

I helped her off the floor and we moved back to the register. “So what do you have?” She asked. “Um I think it’s a book of poetry, I flicked through it and read one, I like it.” I said. “You should read me one.” She smiled. Before I could respond a little lady with grey hair and a long green cardigan came walking behind the counter from what I assumed was the ‘back’. “Oh Larissa! How are you dear!?” She said surprised. “Francis! I’m well how are you?” She responded, it would be silly to think they weren’t aquatinted. “I’m doing ok, finally got that hip replacement back in may, working like I’m a teenager again.” She said. I quietly chuckled. “That’s wonderful.” Larissa replied placing her book on the counter. “And who’s this lovely lady with you?” She asked. “Oh forgive me, violet this is Francis, fran, this is violet, she’s making the new classroom cupboards for nevermore.” Larissa was almost proud to be able to introduce you to someone. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I said holding out my hand for her to shake, instead she took ahold of my palm with one hand and placed her other on top. “Like wise dear. Your a hard worker I see.” She stated observing my hand. “Thank you?” I said unsure of how to respond.

Larissa stood to the side waiting for me to pay for my own book. “Oh this one’s good, perhaps you can read some to your girlfriend over there.” Francis said talking about the book and Larissa. My eyes were just about bulging out of my head at her words, I was rendered speechless. “Hush now Fran! I see your still cheeky as ever.” Larissa hissed. The elderly lady chortled at her with a shit eating grin. “Don’t you forget it. When you get old you tend not to hold your tongue.” She initially spoke to larissa than back to me. All I could do was stand there awkwardly, but praise her for not giving a fuck, I like her.

We exited the shop bidding the woman farewell and set off to back to our cars. “Sorry about that, I’ve known Francis since I was 14, she can be very brazen sometimes.” She said. “Don’t worry about it shes cute and hilarious… so you went to nevermore when you were at school?” I asked. “Yes, every weekend I’d go to the library part of the shop and sit for hours, than we’d exchange opinions on the books I’d read over a cup of tea.” She expressed clutching the book tighter to her chest. “That’s so sweet, I wish my childhood was that simple, I would have loved to have the freedom to Sit and read until I was to exhausted.” I said. “Well it wasn’t all that easy but I didn’t have to many friends to mingle with I suppose.” I felt a tinge of sadness at her confession, understanding what she means. “Nor did I, but I guess that’s why it’s so important to you now as headmistress right? To ensure all the kids are happy and safe?” I wondered. “Exactly.” She said pulling out her car keys while I simultaneously did the same. We both hit the unlock button to find we were parked right next to each other.

To our surprise we both had the same car, except hers was red. “Nice car.” I said. “Like wise.” She laughed. “Well I suppose this is goodbye.” Larissa said looking at me slightly saddened at the fact. “I suppose it is.” I retorted. Larissa stood peering into my eyes, her expression turned confused. “What?” I asked. “Your eyes…they’ve changed colour, I thought that yesterday, but now I’m sure.” She said hoping she didn’t sound to insane. “Yeah they do that, I don’t really know why, they go from blue, green, grey to blue grey to green blue, it’s weird but I find that when I’m tired my eyes are really blue and when I’m happy or focused they’re really green, almost like a mood ring.” I laughed. Larissa own eyes flickered between my own causing me to become short of breath. “It’s very interesting, very unique.” She said. “What are they now?” I whispered, Larissa seemed to be closer than I thought. “Green on the outside with a little bit of blue in the centre.” She matched my tone of voice. Closing my eyes I took a deep breath and tilted my head down before exhaling and returning the gaze.

“So when will I see you again? Apart from the obvious work reasons.” I asked. “Would Friday night be ok, I could take you out for dinner?… if your not interested then that’s ok we could-.” Yes yes yes yes yes. “No! I’d love to just text me with plans yeah?” I wished I didn’t seem to overzealous. “Really? Alright than I will see you Friday.” She said. “Of course I’ll see you than.” And only than I did something I wish I could take back, something so stupid, so unprofessional. I leaned in a little closer and kissed her cheek, not like it was hard or strained, not even a millisecond went by for me to not look at her after, I all but ran to my car and shoved the keys into the ignition and turned it on ripping the gear stick into reverse to get the hell out of there. I did spare her a glance and and idiotic wave before practically speeding away.

Larissa stood there on the footpath shocked, blushing like one of her students, she returned the wave and set to get in her own vehicle. Sitting in the drivers seat hands clamped to the steering wheel, she let out a chesty giggle and a smile reaching her eyes. It was Larissa’s turn to feel like a giddy little girl. On her way back go nevermore I was the only thing on Larissa’s mind, by the time she arrived through the gates it was just after 2 pm, she would spend the rest of the day in a haze hardly concentrating.

Later that night she dragged a chair in front of her fireplace with a blanket adorned over her lap with her new book in hand and a glass of wine placed on the floor next to her, a relaxing evening to go along with an eventful afternoon. I was much the same, unlike the previous night I had enough energy to make something for dinner while standing in the kitchen with my own book, reading passages from it whilst stirring the food on the stove.

the eyes

are portals to

different worlds

this is why

we shut them in

beautiful moments.

Let’s just say both of our dreams that night were of each other and the next morning consisted of thoughts for Fridays dinner.

———

Just wait for the dinner;)

@lex13cm @im-a-carnivorous-plant @barbarasstar @giogwensversion @sabraaabra

[orbital-obvious]

Some Thought on the Second season (the parts I watched, anyway)

In no order in particular, really.

=> The scene in the first episode of Jace trying to report Rhaenyra about the forces he aquired but breaking down in tears due to Luke's death was amazing. It's the conflict between being royals/rulers and being people/family. It also gave us more info about the state of the upcoming war, and showed us the relationship between Rhaenyra and her son.

=> Could have done without the "Rhaenyra looking at the distance" scenes, though. There must be a better way to explore her grief.

=> We got to see Lord Stark!!! And get some Winterfell lore!!! and go see the Watch!!!! The North is my fav I'm so glad to get that little glimpse. Also Cregan Stark is the most Stark dude I've seen on this show(s). Hopefully we'll see some fun wild blood of the wolf moments from him.

=> "I want Aemond's head" *leaves* ok girlboss but maybe come up with a plan

=> Jace hair is just.... So much better. I love character development.

=> We were robbed for not getting the Green's reaction to Aemond's kinslaying, especially since they'll have to manage the fallout from this act.

=> I don't like sexual turn in Allicent/Cole relationship. Not because I blame Allicent or whatever, I just really liked how their relationship was not grounded in romance/sex (in a way, they were respite to one another from sexual pressures) but I guess "she was a woman, he was a man" writing logic wins.

Edit: you know what? I thing that the criston -allicent thing could have been really good if we saw them get to that point. They were boinking out of nowhere . Was there something I missed in season 1?

=> I can go off all the ways this show strips women of agency and the ability to want anything, and perhaps I will (once I finish the season), but for now I don't like how Mysaria was "poor unfortunate soul forced to introduce Daemon to B&C for her freedom" and not, you know, an active perpetrator in this.

=> LOL not Daemon confronting Rheanys about the dumb scene in the dragon pit from season 1. Yes. Rheanys could've ended this war with minimum casualties. It's not her fault she didn't, the writers just decided to blow up a meaningful scene in the dumbest way ever.

=> Also there is a lot of talk during this season about the smallfolk and how their opinion can sway who wins the war, which is good, but it's odd that Rheanys' dragon stomping, killing and maiming all those smallfolk doesn't ever come up.

=> Daeron's existence being confirmed in an offhand remark after not even being MENTIONED in the last season is the FUNNIEST moment in this show for me.

=> It feels really odd to me that Aemond is still visiting the women who essentially was forced on him as a child. Like. It's the same kind of logic of "Larys has foot fetish becasue his disability is based around his foot" and I don't like it.

=> A lot of people say "They killed the boy" was Heleana not caring about her son dying, but for me it was a perfect encapsulation of her unable to handle the immense pain she's in and trying to distance herself from reality. This and the funeral scene later show Heleana trying to process her grief through her neurodivergence.

=> Real talk: why did B&C have a dog?

=> Daemon in Harrenhall is my favorite storyline, sitting there having indie horror game esque visions and phasing in and out an unfortunate reality of having to do diplomacy. Chef's kiss.

=> Daemon saying "have you considered kinslaying" to a Tully boy whos motto is "Family, Honor, Duty" is so fucking funny. He is so freaking bad at this.

=> ALYS RIVERSSSSSS MY FAVVVVVVVVV "you will die here", refuses to elaborates, leaves. Yes brew blood cocktails to give Daemon nightmares. Yessss gaslight him into thinking its the bed.

=> Ok the plan of Rhaenyra to sneak and meet with Alicent was so... Cartoonish. Also highly irresponsible for the ruling queen to dissapear without a trace during a WAR. Worse of all, it was kind of boring, and cost us valuable time we could use to expand upon other characters.

=> Like I know Cole sent the twin with a similar plan but at least that was acknowledged as stupid by the narrative, and also had an explosive and emotionally satisfying conclusion.

=> LMAO at Otto complaining about Aegon as he was fired, alll the way up to and including when he was packing to go back to the Reach.

=> What team am I if I think Aegon is a legit Usurper but Rhaenyra is kinda boring?

[fandomfluffandfuck]

OK BUT

nomad!Steve having a size kink, seeing pre-serum!Steve and just not being able to KEEP IT IN HIS PANTSSSS

This didn't take me almost a week to get to. What do you mean?

You're so fucking right and while I have more angst-y thoughts about how younger, slimmer Steve would feel about that, too--how he might react when at first confronted with his perceived inadequacies in the face of everything he believes he's supposed to be, the way everyone tells him he should be... BUT we'll ignore that simply for the ✨️kink✨️

And what hits nomad Steve first--what takes his head and twists it down a dark, filthy path from the wheel-spinning confusion of being confronted with himself from another timeline, much younger and sicker--is their hands.

There's a moment where younger Steve reaches out to touch him, disbelieving. He's almost unknowingly playing out the now, in the future, overdone trope in movies of two people standing face-to-face, mirroring their movements. A perfect reflection. Younger Steve doesn't touch. But he gets close. His hands hover, his eyes are wide, his lips falling open silently at the same time that his fingers twitch and...

Jesus.

The thing is, hands are different from everything else. Every other part of his body. Their bodies. Bone can be wrapped and overlaid with muscles, disguised as something else. More rebust and thick. Muscle lives under nomad Steve's skin in mounds, thick like clay, molded just so. He shifts, and it moves, pulling and rippling along his frame. Muscle. Alive. Burning hot with its maintenance needs. His arms and shoulders and chest have all widened. Thickened. Even his abdomen, to some degree, has been bulked wider with muscles--cut and clenching. Too, his legs, from just above his Achilles heel with his calves to the very low of his broad back in the form of his curved, sloping ass. Nomad Steve has muscle everywhere these days. He knows muscle (and a whole lot of pain in the form of the ever steady march of time) separates himself from this younger Steve. He knows it well. But...

It's easier to forget that his entire frame has changed. The atoms rearranged and stretched. Forever altered. The difference between them is encapsulated in their hands.

Hands aren't the same as the rest of the body.

You can't pack muscle on your hands in the same fashion. You can put thick callouses and jagged scars, but that won't do much to lengthen or widen your fingers, it won't broaden your palms, it won't square out their architecture, and it sure as hell won't change your fingerprints.

Nomad Steve is so different from his younger self in obvious ways, but in their hands, too.

Subtle.

Fascinating.

Exciting.

Hands.

Nomad Steve has big, big hands with square palms and thick, long fingers. He has callouses from pencils still, but also more immediate weapons that fight for change, too--his voice extended beyond his mind to his body.

Younger Steve, though, has hands that are certainly large for his petite frame, but... they're almost delicate compared to Nomad Steve's hands. Thin. Easy to consume completely. The animal that is less and less caged in Nomad Steve the more he ages--more and more torn around the edges--growls seeing those small hands.

Immediately, a million fantasies race through nomad Steve's sharp, technicolor mind. All of those hot, dirty images in his head focused on the differences between their hands that represent the contrast in the rest of their bodies, too.

The fingers of just one of nomad Steve's hands encircling two bird-bone wrists--pressing both of them into the mattress, keeping him where he wants him, tightly fitting himself inside his younger self. His body. Wet. Hot. He barely fits, he swears. It's so tight that it almost hurts, gritting his teeth, swearing, groaning, and grunting as he fucks him with abandon. All the while, using a fraction of his strength to pin and ravenge him. Nomad Steve can feel every clench of younger Steve's fists as he writhes; he can feel every twist of his arms as he tries to get some kind of release from the pleasure, the heat, he just can't take it. His little fists clench so tight, just like his body. Tight.

Jesus Christ.

The sight of his fucking hands--and suddenly he understands what Bucky means when he says he has dinner-plate palms--biting into younger Steve's tiny waist. Wasp-waisted, he swears. His pale, pale skin darkened with bruises from desire. Younger Steve gasps and moans each time nomad Steve squeezes him a little more. Christ. There's a perverted feeling pulsing all throughout nomad Steve's body--he's so goddamn small and cute, and it makes him violent. Like seeing a kitten. A feisty little kitten that he wants to crush with his bare hands. So, he grabs. He takes. He groans, bone-deep, letting his forefingers and thumbs touch around his younger self's waist. He wants to press handprint bruises into his skin, he wants to feel his hip bones, he wants to dig into those little dimples at the base of his spine, he wants to feel the concave plane of his stomach, rubbing him down, he wants to spear him on his dick. He's so little. So tight.

Tight.

The broad flat of nomad Steve's palm across his younger self's thin chest, almost spanning the entire thing, oh, god, it's so hot. Underneath him, his elongated throat, his lean pecs, his sharp collarbones, and the curve of his ribs. All of that right there when the tips of his pinkie and index finger aren't even spread wide, and they're each brushing one of his peaked nipples. He's not even trying! Still, he overwhelms his younger self. He could do anything he wanted to him. Anything. Steve can feel his younger self's lungs stutter, gasping. He's nearly cool to the touch even as he melts from heated arousal. His heart pounds, vaguely uneven but demanding either way, sending surges of arousal through his body, making sure he's up for it. Rock-hard. He's so little and so grabbable.

Best of all, fuck, the way it feels with his big hands on his tiny body when he's fucking him. It's not just how it looks. He can fucking see how little he is, but it feels better than it looks. Tight, yeah, and... with nomad Steve kneeling on the bed, he hoists his younger self up so his slim thighs are thrown around his thicker waist, his hips are tilted up, and emphasizing the way as he thrusts in and out of him like he wants to break him. With their position, younger Steve's concave tummy bulges with his dick. He's stuffed so full. Moaning and wailing with every thrust. It bulges out of him. Filling him. Nomad Steve could watch it all day--staring, groaning, at how deep he gets into his guts--but he could spend the rest of his days feeling the erotic way his own cock rocks and grinds inside him through his thin skin. Christ. He can press down harder and feel himself in there, rubbing the tip of his own cock just to make his own hips jerk harder. Harsher. He's using his younger self like a damn flashlight, like he's jerking off using him, getting off to how he barely fits in there, getting off to how he's getting squeezed, getting off to how he drips with lube and how he drools and how he gags for it. Goddamn, he's begging for more even though there isn't more. There's no fucking way he could fit more inside him. He's at his limits, and Steve's taking him there. Steve's taking him. Ruining him.

He's never gonna be so little and tight again, so is Steve really the big, bad wolf for wrecking him? Like, god, how can he keep it in his pants when he's that big? It barely fits in the first place 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Hopefully, you enjoyed that 😘

Now, with this extra detailing

[james-stark-the-writer]

riverdalians, i have deeply disappointing news. the new Super Eyepatch Wolf Riverdale video.... does not Get It.

i mean it's a rough video on its lonesome too, repeating far too much of stuff he already covered in the first video, but it also doesn't really come to any point. honestly, it just seems incoherent at times. but like. the big crime is that he doesn't Get It. like i understand his frustrations with season 7, i share many of them too, but honestly, as sacrilegious as it may sound, it commits some of the same Art Sins as the FSN video (especially as far as treating Riverdale as trying to say something like John does try to find some meaning at the end but he misses the most obvious thing which is really infuriating. like to an extent it's cultural differences, but then again it's also not my culture that's being deconstructed and i got it so i don't know what to tell you, especially bc Riverdale is not remotely subtle about its deconstructions.), like he brings up plot points that are clearly About something and then just... doesn't confront them. like he clearly points out things like how Percival is old and has been around for a long time and how he's corrupting the soul of the town and basically doing a genocide and is from a long line of genociders and how he is the embodiment of evil but he never connects all those to understand that season 6 is critiquing white supremacy (especially given that Riverdale is not a subtle show, like they are very explicit in their political critiques. i do not understand how he could possibly miss that unless he wasn't paying attention and treating it as actual art.), and that season 7 is a very normal lead into it. like yeah i have critiques of season 7 and their approach to tackling racial issues, but it's very clearly leaning further into the deconstruction that the show is doing. like i'm just so stunned he didn't Get It.

fuck, he doesn't even talk about the fucking series finale! which i feel like is a perfect encapsulation of what he finds fascinating in media. like, after his Garfield video, i thought he would get the haunting, horrific implications of the series finale, but he doesn't even talk about it! yeah. there's just no finale section. he just stops talking about the show at the penultimate episode while clearly playing clips from the finale, and he doesn't talk about the finale, which is so baffling to me that i cannot even fathom that this video was meant to be released. genuinely feel like half the video is missing. what the hell, John. i don't think there's a third video coming so it all honestly just seems like a waste. like in some ways, i guess if his Big Point is that the show is incoherent (which tbh is one of the weakest and most wrong criticisms of Riverdale? like, Riverdale will sometimes have you questioning why something was executed the way it was, or why a certain choice was made. but it's not a hard show to follow. it's not incoherent. you just have to pay attention. because it's a dense show. it's very plot-heavy, so you have to be paying attention. yeah sometimes characters flip about, but there's always a base status-quo as a touchstone for categorizing and explaining their behavior, and if you put aside the motivations the literal events are extremely simple to understand. like seriously it's very easy to follow when you actually have context and aren't listening to random plot points decontextualized in a YouTube video that is less than 1/100th of the runtime of the actual show.) and pointless, making the video incoherent and pointless is like, interesting, and tries to mimic the meta characteristics of the show, but it doesn't make for a particularly fun video to watch, and it also is not like giving the show enough credit as a piece of art, so it's just really irritating as a whole.

genuinely so sad about this lol, like i knew from the first one that a lot of his enjoyment was from the outrageous moments and that he probably wouldn't love season 7 but i didn't think he would just completely miss the point this hard. also the way that he understands that Season 4 was filmed during the pandemic but doesn't understand that the first four episodes of Season 5 are actually part of Season 4? baffling. genuinely so many questionable decisions in that video. i do not understand it. i just. i'm so tired of everyone not getting the most blatant fucking Art that's extremely obvious about what it's doing. Riverdale is not hard to Get and the amount of people i've seen blatantly miss the point is really, genuinely scary in terms of media literacy. like jesus, how could you miss the point of Riverdale S06 and how it connects to S07. how is that even possible. did you watch it with your eyes closed, John.

[sunderingstars]

For your playlists, how about some/any that you feel fits Sampo the most? I'd love to hear your thoughts behind any of them!

ʚ 💌 ɞ hihi! thank you for giving me an excuse to yap :3

in terms of songs that i feel encapsulate sampo as a whole, my top three would have to be:

le monde (from talk to me) by richard carter

⟢ (vague spoilers for talk to me)

⟢ the scene this song is used in is genuinely one i can’t get out of my head when thinking about how elation works in hsr — the characters know what they’re doing is impulsive and eventually dangerous, but there’s this thick layer of adrenaline separating them from actually being able to make rational decisions; instead, no matter how terrified they are (and perhaps because of how terrified they are), they can’t seem to stop themselves from coming back for more and interacting with an object that is most definitely cursed because of the high it gives them.

⟢ the music reflects this, going round and round and round, unable to stop spinning until it abruptly cuts off, just like how the group’s “high” abruptly turns to “horror” once the dead get too violent and too real for them to ignore.

⟢ i very much feel like this could be sampo’s experience of elation, especially in his early days of being around the masked fools. he would be surrounded by a constant “high” of others spinning round and round and round in this cycle of adrenaline, until something so violent and so disturbing happens that he’s forced to pull himself out of whatever trance he’d been trapped in. i actually see him as potentially being like mia from talk to me, starting out cautious as a voice of reason but slowly being pulled into the “cycle” of elation until he’s too lost to truly understand the impact of what he’s doing. i also think there may have been a startling & disturbing “incident,” much like what happens to mia’s little brother, that snapped him out of it and caused him to second guess what he was really doing with the masked fools, causing disillusionment to set in.

⟢ even now in belobog, he likely still has to grapple with that incessant soundtrack of repeating elation, if not within his own mind then in the interactions he has with other masked fools like in the tv screen scene.

joke’s on you by charlotte lawrence

⟢ i connect this one with sampo’s feelings of hate and betrayal towards aha / the masked fools / the elation as a whole (and perhaps even himself) — the song is very focused on finding a way to break free of this sugary, toxic relationship that seems to infect the main character, focusing on an almost “fuck you” mentality of being so completely done with being used for another’s ulterior motives.

⟢ in this context, “joke’s on you” would have a double meaning, not only conveying the original message of the song but also being a direct, ironic twist on the elation’s hedonistic fixation on jokes.

⟢ additionally, the blending of emotions like sadness and crying and fear being associated with laughter adds to the idea that “elation” may warp sampo’s experience of emotion, as well as how he can convey it.

⟢ “and now i’m laughin’ through my tears / i’m cryin’ through my fears / but baby, if i had to choose / the joke’s on you.” — joke’s on you

in the dark & let me go by shaker, cobra

⟢ the perfect duology to capture sampo’s two sides: lighthearted and fun versus serious and just, this yawning cavern of wanting more for himself.

⟢ in the dark is a more upbeat song, talking about not needing love and being rich and leading people on (with hints of deeper emotion), while let me go uses the same beat from in the dark but slowed down and reworked to explore the feelings of emptiness, pain, and insecurity that lie beyond the more cheerful tone of the previous song.

⟢ let me go, as the title suggests, also implies wanting to get away from something or someone specific that is linked to these dark feelings.

⟢ for sampo, in the dark would illustrate how he appears to others — carefree and loose with his movements and words and actions (as well as a little bit of a playboy) — while let me go would illustrate the way he actually feels — trapped and lonely and tied to this painful thing that sucks away at his soul.

⟢ basically, both songs are two sides of the same coin, and i very much see the coin as being sampo!

⟢ these songs go hard thinking about emanator!sampo or a sampo otherwise “created” by aha / the elation (especially doll!sampo).

⟢ “i don’t, i don’t need love / i’m getting married to all these hundred mills / all of my exes can’t even pay their bills.” — in the dark

⟢ “now my only way out’s to die, on my own / let me go / need to go / don’t you know? / i’ve been lacking a soul on the floor.” — let me go

🪐 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ asks are still open for anyone who wants to request songs :))