#I'm not confident that any of this was intentional in the text because I know christian teachings conceptualise the soul differently

[mayasaura]

do you think tamsyn is intentionally drawing a connection between the Buddhist eightfold path and the eightfold word?

the eightfold path is supposed to lead to liberation from the cycle of rebirth (I’m drawing a parallel to lyctoral immortality) and the last element is right samadhi which is often described as “meditative absorption or union” (a parallel to the consumption of the cavalier and absorption of the soul)

idk just food for thought i’ve been mulling over

I've been pondering this for a while myself. I've never heard the word "eightfold" used in any other context. Like, it could very much be a coincidence because #-fold is a Portentous Word Form, and eight Houses contributed to the theorum, but let's assume for now there is a connection.

I would say it's less of a parallel and more of a reflection. This framing of the Eightfold Word would make it kind of a warped mirror of the Eightfold Path.

Following the Eightfold Path delivers you from samsara, right? The ultimate purpose is to break the cycle of reincarnation that binds a person to the worlds of mundane suffering. That last element, right samadhi, it's about the illusion of existence being transcended in meditation to see the true nature of being. The Path leads to understanding of the self as transient—an illusion created by a much larger whole. Or something like that. I'm not a priest or bodhisattva, or even a scholar dedicated to understanding these things.

Speaking the Eightfold Word is entirely the opposite. The lyctors have subsumed the other into the self, making the self the center of their being. They haven't been freed from the cycle so much as they've jammed the wheel, leaving themselves trapped in the suffering of their existence for, theoretically, eternity.

I don't know if it's an intentional reference or not, but I do enjoy considering the implications of lyctorhood from that perspective. John and the lyctors have become so consumed by their obsession with the self and ensuring its continuance, it's broken all the bonds that would make them part of a larger whole in this life and left them each alone together in their own private hells. Speaking the Eightfold Word means that they'll never reach the other shore.

[lisenberry]

141 when they find out reader has been crying:

(an earlier brain worm had me expanding this to all of them)

Price: He pulls you into his office and shuts the door. It barely closes before he turns on you, crossing his arms and looking down with his chin tucked against his chest. He rocks back on his heels once, twice, while he waits for you to spill.

You can only blink up at him, willing your tears not to fall while he's watching you so intently.

"What is it, sir?" You finally chance the use of your voice, but instantly regret it. Your miserable croak isn't hiding anything.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me why you've been crying." His tone is gruff, like sandpaper over rock salt, but his eyes soften imploringly.

For a minute, you want to tell him everything, but instead you just give in and cry harder. For a moment, he looks disappointed, but he simply pats you awkwardly on your shoulder and grabs a box of tissues from his desk drawer.

He motions to the sofa in the corner where you sob quietly for a half hour more while he finishes his paperwork. He doesn't know what's going on, but he's not going to let you do it alone.

Ghost: It doesn't matter where you hide, he finds you. The kitchen? He's in and out three times. Tea, a spoon for his tea, another tea. He crowds your space each time, no matter where you stand. Forcing you in circles as you try to keep your face averted.

For a silent man, he manages to make as much noise as possible to distract you to the point of almost asking him, "What the fuck, Simon?"

You finally move to a bathroom stall, but before long you hear the door open and two large boots stop just beyond the door. You know it's him by the size alone.

You hold your breath for a beat, and then two, so long that you wonder who is going to give in first. You know you've got about 3 minutes before you pass out. But just as you're about to stand up and face him, he turns and leaves without a word.

Exactly ten minutes later, he finds you in the rec room, dragging someone by the neck. It's not until Ghost kicks the man's knees out from under him, forcing him to kneel in front of you that you realize who it is. Some asshole from the other team who was giving you a hard time in training this morning.

With Ghost's knee pressed painfully between his shoulder blades, he grits out, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! It won't happen again!"

He's not the reason you're crying, but watching his face turn ten shades of purple does make you feel a little better.

Gaz: He keeps his distance and hates to see people cry because it always makes him cry, too. He doesn't know why. Movies, talk shows, commercials, they just get him right in the feels.

But every time you look up, his golden eyes meet yours, glistening with empathy. You simply shake your head at him and go about your day, until eventually, you get a text.

You mad at me?

-No, I'm fine.

You sure?

-Yep.

Fucking xxxx again, innit?

Of course he'd be the one to guess right. He paid the most attention, listened when you talked and remembered every detail. To be honest, he'd been the one you confided in the most for that reason.

He took your silence as a confirmation.

I hid some ice cream in the freezer. Unless Soap got to it first.

Soap: You head back to the kitchen again in search of the contraband ice cream, hoping it's the good mocha chip flavor you love, only to find Soap has beaten you to it. He innocently scoops out the last bite before seeing your face crumble and guiltily tosses it into the sink.

"Och, shit. Was that yours?"

"No, it's okay." Could this get any worse?

After dealing with these four, you just give up and slink back to your room.

"You know what you need?" He charges you before you can get any further.

"No, Johnny, don't!" Not one to listen, he pulls you up over his shoulder in one swoop and fireman carries you out to the gym.

"We're going to sweat it out, yeah? Always makes me feel better. Whether it's fighting or fucking is up to you."

You finally laugh at the absurdity of it, for the first time all day.

[lucysgraybird]

modern!university!coriolanus x fem!reader. part 2 here, part 3 here

notes: this is not set in panem -- if you're looking for a vibe, think harvard/uchicago/any of the old-guard, upper echelon US universities. i have another part in the works that i'll post tomorrow or thursday. also i promise that they both have some crazy in them . It will appear in later parts

“Please remember that I cannot accept late work for this essay,” your professor says as everyone packs up. “The deadline is the deadline for work for the semester, so everything has to be submitted by then. This includes any outstanding work you might have.”

She shoots a look at a boy in the front row when she says that, and he bows his head.

“Have a wonderful weekend, and I'll see you all Monday.”

You shove your laptop in your bag, sling it across your body, and make a beeline for the exit. This is your last class of the day and you have no intention of spending any more time in a lecture hall than you have to. Just as you're about to leave the building, someone catches you by the shoulder and pulls you back.

“Excuse you,” you mutter, turning to see who would do something so…well, to put it diplomatically, bold.

There stands a boy with a shock of hair so blonde it's nearly white and eyes so blue they're nearly translucent. It would be eerie if he didn't wear it well: angular and bright, it's like he's been carved from the purest block of ice. His pale features are offset by the rich ruby of his sweater. He looks royal, though you'd think a prince wouldn't go around grabbing girls by their arms.

“I'm sorry,” he says. “I've been wanting to talk to you for weeks, but you always fly out of the building and I didn't want to miss you this time.”

“Talk to me? About what?”

God willing, not about some group project that had slipped your mind. You're so careful about organization, but sometimes things slip through the cracks.

“Would you like to go out with me?”

“Who are you?”

His eyebrows (the only dark thing on his face) twitch, and you wonder if he's so arrogant as to assume you'd know who he is. He doesn't say anything, though, just extending a hand to you.

“Coriolanus Snow. Pleasure.”

You shake his hand, finding the official-ness of it a little odd. When you open your mouth to introduce yourself, he stops you.

“I realize this is going to sound…odd, but I do know who you are. You're the only person I listen to in that insipid class.”

“Oh.”

Because honestly, what are you supposed to say to that?

“Let me take you to dinner, please,” Coriolanus says. “At least for the conversation.”

Your pause must spur him on, because he continues, “And you're gorgeous. Honestly, you caught my eye before you even started speaking, and then…well.”

He's very forward, but it doesn't come off as desperate. He carries himself with such a confident air that if he hadn't tried to be suave, it would've been more awkward.

You allow yourself to be flattered, offering him a soft laugh. His poise must be a front, at least a little, and you can put up a façade too.

“Why, thank you, Coriolanus. I'd love to go out with you, but I'm so busy with finals coming up…”

This is partly true – you're taking the maximum number of credits your advisor would let you, which is over the credit load the school has set, so you have a good deal of work to do. However, you're not above playing a little hard-to-get, especially if you are interested in the person. Half the fun of a hunt is the chase.

“All the more reason to go out. I know a spot if you're free tonight – one more bit of fun before hitting the books?”

“What kind of fun, Mr. Snow?”

“Well, we'll see where the night takes us, if that's a yes.”

It can't hurt, right?

“It's a yes. I'll text you my address?” You extend your phone to him, a delicate smile gracing your lips.

“Perfect,” he says, putting in his number. “I'll pick you up at 7:30. Wear something nice.”

“Where are we going?”

“A surprise, but it's very classy. You'll love it.”

You can't wait to look this guy up when you get home. “I'm looking forward to it. See you tonight."

“See you tonight.”

—

“Classy” is an unhelpful dress code, you're discovering. It refers to such a range of places, so you're left to take a guess and hope you don't make some sort of grave faux pas. You're limited in being overdressed as a university student, so you select the nicest thing you brought from home. It's a wine-coloured dress that skims just the middle of your calves, with a cowl at the neck and a sweeping back that shows a tasteful (yet tempting, you hope) amount of skin. With a thin necklace and some earrings, you could fit in at most “nice” restaurants that would be appropriate for a first date with a nigh-stranger.

At 7:25, you slip on your coat and heels and head down to the lobby of your apartment building. Something tells you that Coriolanus has a tendency towards extreme punctuality, so you'd rather not keep him waiting a moment.

Just as you suspected, at 7:30 exactly the silhouette of a tall man appears at your door and your phone buzzes with a text.

Coriolanus Snow: I'm here.

When you open the door, he is, indeed, there, holding a bouquet of white roses and wearing a red vest and slacks with a white dress shirt. He is nothing if not coordinated, you suppose.

“Ah,” he says. “Hello. These are for you.”

It is a lovely gesture, and it garners a genuine blush from you while you accept the bouquet. “Thank you. They're gorgeous. I didn't even know they made white roses.”

He offers his elbow to you, which you accept. Though it's odd, there's something sweet about his anachronistic nature. You, like any college girl, have had many a bad first date, and it's pleasant to have one with a man who is, at the least, polite.

“My grandmother grows them. I dropped by and picked these up on my way here. You look wonderful, by the way.”

“Oh! Thank you. I wasn't quite sure what to wear because I don't know where we're going, so I'm glad I chose well.” You glance over at his outfit. “We match, sort of.”

“So we do.”

He smiles in a way that's almost indescribable – it's not quite aloof, though it has some of the same calculation behind it. It actually feels incredibly personal, and sets your heart racing. Why this boy gets under your skin the way he does – the way no one has before – is something you have yet to discover.

Your walk with him ends at a black car, for which he opens the back door and allows you to climb in before following you. A scan of social media earlier had turned up tragically few results, and every single thing Coriolanus does makes you more curious about him. He settles next to you.

“So are you a polisci major, or are you just taking the one class?” You ask, unwilling to let silence be for more than a moment.

“Polisci and philosophy,” he replies. “My goal is law school directly after college, and then politics.”

“I should've guessed,” you say.

“Oh?”

“Not in a bad way. Just…you're very smooth. Well-spoken, attractive, all of that. You'd do well in politics.”

The corners of his lips turn in a slight smile. “You think I'm attractive?”

You laugh. “I certainly do, Coriolanus. I do have standards, you know.”

“Then I'm very glad I'm meeting them. Are you looking to do politics too, then, or…?”

“Honestly, not right now. I think I might stick to academia for a while. I don't have the stomach for pandering that you have to have for politics.”

“It's my least favourite part, honestly. I did some work for a senator last summer and the endless word-parsing drove me insane. No one ever says what they mean.”

“Right. The image of it all is fun, though. Like playing a character. But you don't have to do politics to do that.”

Coriolanus nudges his knee against yours. “Are you putting on an image for me right now?”

“A lady never tells. Are you putting on one for me?”

When you turn, he's a lot closer than you expected. You can see the spires in his irises, like cracked moonstones, and can smell his cologne: whiskey and spice and something woody, clean.

“You'll just have to find out,” he says, his voice low in his chest. It's said as a secret – there's no one else in the car, but it's as though if he says it too loud the leather of the seats might remember. These words were for your ears only, the rumble meant to coast across just your skin, and you shudder.

[cybrsan]

congratulations!!

maybe a smut drabble with yunho of #106? best friends to lovers when reader’s ex cheats on them and reader was at the club a couple days later, looking for a rebound

yunho has been pining over reader and got jealous when he found out her intentions..

kind of angsty with possessive yunho!!

Thank you! Enjoy <3

Prompt:  106. "I'm going to fuck you until you forget that asshole's name." Pairing: Best Friend!Yunho x F!Reader Genre: Angst, smut Word Count: 2k Tags/warnings: Alcohol use, friends to lovers, rebound sex, unresolved feelings

Requests are currently closed, but my masterlist can be found here.

You sit at the bar, ordering another shot. You've lost count of how many you have had at this point, not caring in the slightest. In fact, you hope you get drunk. You want the sweet, sweet bliss of oblivion that comes with being blacked out so that you can forget the pain that has been eating at you ever since you walked in on your ex-boyfriend cheating a few days ago. 

Your friends who have accompanied you have all wandered off at this point, enjoying their own activities. Everyone except Yunho, who has stuck to your side like glue the entire night.  You love being around him, and you appreciate the fact that he wants to take care of you, but having a guy who’s 6 feet tall hovering around you is really getting in the way of your main goal—finding a rebound. 

Downing your shot, you swivel in your stool and face him. "Yunho.”

“Yeah, what’s up? How are you feeling?” 

“Suffocated.” 

“What?” 

He looks a bit hurt, so you backtrack, not having intended to come off so harshly. “Yunho, I love you. I do. You are my best friend, and I love hanging out with you. But I really want to find a guy to hook up with, and having you around is preventing anyone from approaching me because they think you’re my boyfriend.” 

“Wait, that’s why we’re here?” he asks, eyes widening. “I thought you just wanted to clear your head.” 

“Yeah, by having someone fuck the thoughts right out of me.” 

Yunho just stares at you, not saying anything. His ears are slightly red, and you can only assume your vulgarity has left him feeling embarrassed. You’ve never talked about stuff like this with him before; obviously, the alcohol in your system has made you a bit too bold. Feeling awkward, you stand up to leave when he suddenly reaches out and grabs your wrist, pulling you back toward him. 

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to go home with a random guy.” His words express his concern for you, but his eyes are laced with an emotion you can’t quite place. 

“Yunho, I’m a grown woman. I can make choices for myself.”

“I know that,” he says, grip tightening slightly. “But I don’t want you to go home with a random guy.” 

Your eyes widen. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating what you think he is. 

“Then who should I go home with?”

He doesn’t answer right away, teeth worrying his lower lip. He looks unsure of something, but his hesitance only lasts for a moment before he steels his gaze, looking at you with newfound confidence.

“Me.”

“You? Wait, Yunho, you mean—”

“Yeah. I’ll help you clear your head.”

Before you can argue, he’s throwing a wad of cash down onto the bartop and texting in your group chat, letting everyone know he’s taking you home. No one will think twice about it, knowing that he’s always the one who takes care of you after a wild night out. They wouldn’t ever think his words might have a different meaning.   

The car ride is quick, the air between you thick with anticipation. When you get to Yunho’s apartment, you aren’t sure what to expect. You think that maybe it will be something straight out of a movie—he’ll throw you up against a wall, confess his feelings for you, and take you right then and there. But that doesn’t happen.

It’s just like any other time you’ve been at his apartment, so much so that you almost think you imagined everything. He takes your jacket from you and hangs it up, then gets you a glass of water that you make quick work of, mouth dry from anxiety. He sits on one of the kitchen chairs, watching you as you stand there awkwardly, unsure of what’s to come next. 

“Why do you look so nervous?” he asks, tone light and teasing.

Hearing his voice relaxes you, helps you remember that this is Yunho you’re with—your Yunho—and you have nothing to worry about. 

“Why do you think?” 

He chuckles and beckons you forward, patting the seat next to him. You sit, and he pulls your chair closer to his, letting his hand rest on your thigh. His touch is featherlight, but it’s enough to make you jump. His thumb rubs soothingly against your skin and he lifts your chin with his opposite hand so that you’re forced to look him in the eyes. You hadn’t even realized you were avoiding his gaze until now. 

“Y/N… I need to know that you want this. That you won’t regret it.”

“So you were serious about what you said back there at the bar?” 

You shouldn’t be so shocked, but you can’t help it. People have always joked about the two of you having feelings for one another, and maybe there was something between you before you met your last boyfriend, but neither of you ever acted on anything. No drunken kisses, no hints dropped, no late-night confessions forgotten in the morning…

“Of course I was,” he says. “I want you. I have for a while now, even before everything with your ex.” 

“Yunho…” 

“I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings, at least not right now. I don’t care if we only keep things physical, but I need you to genuinely want it.” 

You should think this through, consider all the possibilities. Do you have feelings for Yunho? What will this do to your relationship with him? But the answer comes to you so easily that you don’t have time to fight it. “I do. I want this.” 

Once he has your full consent, it’s as if a switch inside of him clicks. His eyes darken, and he grabs your hips, pulling you off of your chair and halfway onto his lap as he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. 

“Good,” he murmurs, breath hot against your skin. “I’m going to fuck you until you forget that asshole’s name.”  

His words make your thighs clench instinctively, his boldness taking you off guard. He stands up, keeping you close, and walks you to his bedroom, tossing you unceremoniously onto the bed.  You can’t help but laugh at his eagerness, making him smile as he unbuttons his shirt. You ogle him, taking in his tan skin and toned stomach. His body is obviously that of a dancer’s, and you make a mental note to tell him that his hard work is paying off. 

“Like what you see?” he jokes, spinning for you as if showing himself off. 

“Yes, now get over here already.” 

Never one to deny you, he kneels on the bed and lowers himself on top of you. He returns his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily as his hands explore your body. He grabs the bottom of your shirt, fingers brushing over the skin of your stomach, and tugs it off of you. 

Having gone braless, your chest is immediately exposed to him, and he groans at the sight, eagerly taking all of you in. You thought you might feel shy under his gaze, but instead, he only makes you feel desired. He dips his head down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. You moan, arching your back as pleasure jolts through you. 

Once he’s satisfied, he trails kisses down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your pants. He looks up at you through his lashes, waiting. 

“Can I…?” he lets his words trail off. 

“Yes, Yunho, yes,” you beg, writhing underneath him, desperate for more of his touch. 

In the blink of an eye, he’s freeing you of your pants and your underwear along with them before eagerly shoving his face into your cunt. You can’t hold back your moans as his tongue moves against you expertly, as if he somehow knows exactly what to do to bring you to the edge. When he slides a finger into your entrance, prepping you for his cock, your thighs clench around his head. Unbothered, Yunho continues, teasing your clit with his tongue as he adds a second finger, scissoring them inside of you. You can feel your orgasm building with each passing second, and you tug at his hair, pulling him off of you. 

“Don’t wanna come like this,” you pant, chest heaving. “Want you inside me.” 

Yunho groans and pulls his fingers out of you. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” 

He hurriedly takes off his pants and boxers, letting his cock spring free. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of it; it’s long, longer than any you’ve had before, slender but curved in a way that has you desperate, clenching around nothing. He grabs a condom from his nightstand and slowly rolls it over himself, thrusting a few times into his hand. You’re pretty sure that you could come from that sight alone—maybe you can revisit that another time. 

“Come here,” you whine, grabbing for him. 

Never one to deny you, he kneels on the bad and lowers himself over you, kissing you as he aligns himself with your entrance. You tangle your hands in his hair and angle your hips to meet him, moaning as he pushes inside of you. He lets out a strangled noise, eyebrows pinching together. You can tell he’s struggling to control his pace as he lets you adjust to the size of him, but you don’t want him to be considerate. You need him, all of him, now. 

Hooking your legs around his waist, you pull him closer to you, spurring him on. He takes the hint and rocks into you fully, letting you feel every inch of him, before pulling out and slamming back into you. He sets a bruising pace, relentless as you write underneath him, barely able to think about anything other than him and how good he’s making you feel.   

He intertwines your fingers as he fucks into you, panting into your neck. “You’re mine,” he growls. “I’m not letting anyone else have you. Never again.” 

“Fuck, yes, I’m yours.”    

It only takes a few more thrusts and Yunho moaning your name for you to come undone, trembling underneath him. He follows shortly after, your walls clenching around him too much for him to take. You feel alarmingly empty when he pulls out of you to discard the condom in the trash, and the thought has you quickly getting up and disappearing into the bathroom. You pee and hop in the shower, needing time to sort out how you’re feeling.

You’ve never felt that way before, never said you belong to someone so easily. You’ve never missed someone the second they pulled away from you. It’s not hard for you to make sense of things—obviously, you return his feelings. But as to whether or not you’re ready for another relationship so soon after ending your last one, you’re not as sure.

You return to his bedroom wrapped only in a towel and grab one of his shirts, pulling it over your head. Yunho looks up at you from his phone and smiles, opening his arms in invitation. You go to him, letting him pull you close, and you can’t help but bury your face into his neck, breathing in the scent of him.

“Feeling okay?”

You may not be able to see him, but you can hear the worry in his tone.

“I feel great, Yu, I promise. That was amazing.” 

He kisses the top of your head. “Good, I’m glad. It was for me, too.” 

He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t press you for answers or ask you to tell him where you stand even though you know he was probably racked with anxiety the entire time you were in the bathroom. Instead, he shuts off the light and continues to hold you close as he shuts his eyes, content just from having you in his arms. As you fall asleep in his embrace, your last coherent thought is that you’re going to have a lot to figure out in the morning.

[vashtijoy]

something suggestive about balls: pool table proxy wars in akechi's confidant, rank 7

There's only one thing you really need to know about rank 7 of Akechi's confidant, and it is this: it happens on the day of the incriminating murder phone call.

We know this for several reasons:

It can't be locked for the name change ("family-name-kun" to "given name")—Akechi never calls Joker by name in conf 7. In fact, unless I miss my guess, he never calls Joker by name during the confidant at all, other than when you say hello in Kichijoji—probably because his term of address changes on 10/31;

Futaba will later tell us the call was recorded "a few days" after she bugged Akechi's phone on 10/29. From 10/29 to 11/2 is four days;

Given the importance of confidant 7, especially the rivalry discussion at the end, it's inconceivable that it happens before Joker hears the phone call. He goes there in full knowledge of what Akechi is, and what he intends.

Lastly, 11/2 can be summed up as "absolute chaos":

First, Akechi meets you on the train platform before school. He tells you he "won't be seeing you privately like this any more", once your deal is concluded—well, of course not, you'll be dead.

But this chat is so important that it appears to have two forms, unlike all the rest of Akechi's train platform appearances. One, the one I got in my playthrough, is quite gentle in tone. The other is much less so, much more dismissive, almost third semester in its bluntness. Assuming they're both in game, I'd guess the first is if you have the confidant levelled, and the second is if you don't. It's not legacy dialogue from vanilla P5; this scene looks to have been added for Royal. IDK, I don't know what triggers the two different chats, or if the other is even in game—but I'd like to.

If you haven't yet been to the hideout since 10/29, Morgana will force you to go after school. That's to say: you must have done Akechi's first hideout meeting, the first hideout of the Sae's Palace mission, by this date;

Last of all, Akechi texts you in the evening, for confidant 7 and its violent change in tone. "After all, losing doesn't sit well with either of us. Am I right?"

If 11/2 isn't the day of the phone call, I'll eat a nest of wasps.

boys and their toys

So. Joker walks into Penguin Sniper for confidant 7, in the a. full and b. very recently acquired knowledge that Akechi is a two-faced killer who's gleefully planning his murder. And what does he do?

Akechi has a lot of revealing things to say about balls in this scene, but we're not really here for him. Because look at how Joker is standing.

[screenshots below the cut, yo]

That's his usual "I have a pool cue" stance, with the cue held in front of him. Here he is doing it with the squad (plus one traitor):

See the difference? When he's with the others, Joker's facing the table—like you would at a billiard table, like Akechi is doing in the picture at the top. But in the confidant, when he's just learned exactly how malicious Akechi's intent is, Joker's not facing the table at all. Joker is facing Akechi. And that means he's keeping that cue firmly between them—whether as a shield or an impromptu weapon.

Now, like we said before, that's a standard pose—if Joker is holding a pool cue, he will hold it in that way. But it's the strange angle he's standing at, facing Akechi and not the pool table, that turns it into a message of sorts.

What happens next? Akechi leans down to take his shot, laying out his extended listen-I'm-going-to-murder-you-soon-and-I-haven't-fully-rationalised-it-yet metaphor all the while. Joker's eyes follow his to the table to watch. But he never turns to the table. He stays facing Akechi, and he still keeps the cue between the two of them:

The next thing is that you answer his question—"Hm, that sure sounds like a psychotic breakdown to me"—and Joker uses his hand to gesture....

... but then he gets the cue back between the two of them again, lickety-split:

The next thing that happens is that Akechi—probably deliberately, as part of his extended metaphor—misses his shot. The two of them pause to stare at the cue ball—in the Japanese text, Akechi has explicitly mentioned it as the ball you strike that starts everything unpredictably rolling. But Joker still keeps the cue between them, and still hasn't turned to the table:

(BTW, here's our old friend the sad sprite—there are some really interesting uses of it in this scene, that are worth watching out for.) But now we get to the point. "But even knowing all of that, you're still not going to quit, are you?"

Their eyes meet; the cue is still between them....

You can say "I've made up my mind" or "I won't miss my shot"; both mean, essentially, "fuck you"; both get the same result.

But now. Only now, as Joker goes to take that shot, does he finally turn to the table, exposing himself to Akechi. (coughs)

He nails it. And then they head out into the street to talk about rivalry. But take a look at their positions now:

Note that Akechi has not moved; only Joker has moved. But now the picture looks different. Now, it looks like Akechi is the one defending himself.

Joker has moved in and taken his shot, dropping his defence and opening himself up to attack in the process. Akechi hasn't moved or altered anything he was doing, yet now he's on the defensive.

And Joker's shot was successful, of course. Just like it will be on 11/20.

this is reaching, you should be ashamed

I see your point! Let's go back in time and have a look at confidant 2, for comparison. Here are the boys in happier times:

See? Joker is facing the table. Even though he's talking to Akechi, and looking at Akechi, he's turned to the table.

Here's another. This one's more dubious because of the angle, which means he does have the cue in front of him—but again, you can see Joker is pointed at the table, not at Akechi:

Funny you should say that, kid. Rank 7 Joker is on to you.

[dariaslookalike]

Building Houses and Burning Bridges Pt 11: Teasing and tit Jobs

Summary:

It seems, oddly enough, that Gregory House lives to annoy you. He takes 'arseholish boss' to the next level. Wake up in the morning, ready to have breakfast, and drive to the hospital where you both work? Nope, you're getting a text that says you're late to his impromptu 4:30 AM meeting where he's had the 'breakthrough of the century' on the team's latest case. Get your hair cut and walk into work, for once feeling confident? Nope, he's saying that he would have done a better job blinded, hands tied and going through Vicodin withdrawals. Finally, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, prove him wrong and attempt to wipe the cockiness off his face? Nope, you're simply slow because you didn't get to your diagnosis quicker and weak-willed because you didn't fight him for it in the beginning. Everything House does infuriates you, and it seems everything you do infuriates him. No wonder you end up pinned to the wall of your apartment and groping him like your life depends on. And knowing House, it very may well.

Warnings: Adult language, mature themes, eventual smut, female protagonist, no reference of y/n

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Current Status: Ongoing

A/N: An update! Lol, this fic has been rotting in my google docs for too long. so i'm procrastinating my uni assignments due tomorrow, and i'm updating here. hope to get chapter 13 out by the end of may but we'll see how that goes lmao

Masterlist: Building Houses and Burning Bridges

Next Chapter: Pt 12

Word Count: 4.2k

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

You’re off the medication, finally. 

That’s what your rational brain should have thought when you woke up, and no longer saw the white pills on the bedside table. No more gulping them down, no more harsh cough or aches. You were better.

You’re not thinking that however.

You’re staring at House while he’s sleeping; which is odd, you can admit. Maybe creepy. You don’t admonish yourself, however. How could you? He’s entrancing. You wish you had some paper here, hell, even a napkin or tissue, so you could scrawl and sketch, to have something tangible to look at later. 

You feel your heart twist at the notion. You might not wake up next to him again or ever; He might decide that just sex was horrible with you, and he never wants you in his bed again. Or he might have seen the way you looked at him last night, when you were rubbing his leg and easing his pain, and decided it was too much, too soon- decided that he was right at the start, and that there was no way you could ever stop your feelings for him from interfering with just sex .

Was he right? You knew that things had shifted in your heart after sleeping with him. Before, you could sidestep around the topic and push off any feelings as a simple whimsical thought, a school girl’s fantasy, and nothing more. Now, you want to kiss his lips and bite the apple of his cheek and suck his neck and tell him he’s yours and no one else's. Too much, too soon. You couldn’t do that, couldn’t tell him that- because House wasn’t yours. Sure, he seems intent on having more fun with you. But that was it. Just sex . He would never share the way you wanted him, he would never look at you with much else besides lust. 

But you don’t have paper, or a napkin, or a tissue. So you lay there, and as you stare at him, in the back of your mind you think this will do. If I can’t have him the way I want him, this will do.  

He looks at ease, for once. You know his leg is still bad and that even in his sleep, he’s probably scheming. But there’s no analysing gaze. He’s not staring down at some patient with mistrust and he’s not rolling his eyes at you and he’s not snapping at one of the ducklings. The notch in his brow isn’t so prominent and his mouth is open slightly as he breathes deeply. He’s relaxed, beside you. This will do.

His alarm goes off and you clench your eyes shut. 

You hear him shift, fumbling to hit the clock and finally flicking the right button to silence it’s blaring noise. He lays back against the mattress and settles with a sigh. You listen to him breathe and the overwhelming stillness of the room.

“How long have you been awake and watching, newbie?”

You flick open one eye, and he has his arms tucked behind his head as he gazes up to the ceiling. “How’d you know?”

“I felt psychically attacked by you- or should I say ravaged?” He looks at you from the corner of his eye. “Also you snore when you’re sleeping.”

“I do not!”

He smiles at the ceiling. “Yes, you do. You sleep talk too.”

“No! You’re lying.” You swing out an arm, landing a light blow on his chest. He recoils from it with exaggeration and twists himself to face you.

“If it’s any consolation, you only say random things when you’re sleep talking. Like ‘House just like thaaaaa’.” He trails off into a high pitched moan.

You scoff, but bury your flaming face in your hands. You peek out, briefly. “Are you serious?”

He smirks. “Yep. You’re all over me, even in your sleep.” He reaches out a hand, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His hand rests on the side of your face, and his thumb smooths over your cheek. “But don’t worry. I’ll only tell Wilson.”

You laugh, but move swiftly and twist yourself to lean on your forearms and knees. House’s eyes flick between the dangling neckline of his shirt that you’re wearing, where your cleavage is showing, and your arse that you stick in the air. 

“You’re not gonna tell Wilson anything.”

“Oh, yeah?” House cocks an eyebrow, flopping onto his back once more. He smirks at you. “What makes you so certain I haven’t already told him everything?”

“Because you were the one who had to stop a blowjob so you wouldn’t be a one pump chump. You can’t act like you didn’t want it just as much as me.”

He tilts his head, and tuts. “Yeah, I can. Last I checked, you were the one screaming- the one who lost the bet.” His smile drips with an overly sweet honey. “You still need to pay up, by the way. I take cash or checks.” 

You sit back and his cool eyes track your movements as you sit on your heels. “I want a rematch.”

“Not a chance. I won, fair and square.”

“You won because you didn’t let me suck you off like I wanted.” You say bluntly. “You won because you were able to hulk out and keep me under you.” 

His eyes darken at your words, but his lips still tilt up. “I’m a cripple and you’re playing the “you overpowered me” card?”

“No, I’m playing the “you had to top otherwise you would have been a goner” card.”

“Still not happening.”

“Double or nothing.” You clench your jaw. “But this time, I’m in control and you can sit there, and look pretty.”

House bats his eyelashes. “You know I’m the best at that. But trust me, you could tie me up and you’d still be the first one begging.”

You smirk, shifting on your knees slightly. “You wanna bet? Yesterday was a fluke on my part- I’ve been cooped up in here for weeks. It was cabin-fever induced touch deprivation.”

He scoffs, sitting up and crossing his arms with a level of self-absorbed-assurance you couldn’t master. But there’s a glint in his eyes. He knows what you’re getting at, but he’s letting himself play right into your hand. 

“Tie me up. You won’t win.” He moves, leaning up to whisper in your ear. 

You laugh, placing your hand on his shoulder and shoving him back against the bedding. “Let me find your belt first and you won’t be so sure.”

You scooch past him and his hand snakes out, pinching your arse as you stand up from the bed. You shoot him a withering look and he just grins. 

When you return, he cocks his head slightly. “I didn’t think you were serious about the belt. Gonna whip me too?”

You give him a pout dripping with fake sympathy. “Only if you beg.”

You scan the bed with a disapproving eye and he tracks your gaze to the solid headboard. “I can’t really tie you to that. So turn around.”

His eyes flick down you. “Just because we’ve committed the most unholy of sins together doesn’t mean you’re my boss now. Don’t go on a power trip.”

“Ohh, you’re so right, House.” His lips tilt up even though it’s obvious you’re mocking him. You lean forward, ghosting your lips against his in a smile. “Now be good for me, please, and turn over.”

You see him swallow, but he laughs you off and gives in, twisting around. You shuffle closer to him on the bed, and move his hands softly behind him. You loop the belt in on itself and place it around his wrists before tightening it. He hisses slightly when the edge digs into his skin, and you press your palm into his shoulder, spinning him back around.

He sits with his back up to the headboard, arms twisted behind himself. House glowers at you from beneath his brow. “I didn’t think you were serious .”

He stretches his legs out in front of him, and you see him already twitching in his boxers. You smirk. “You just don’t want to admit how much you like it.” 

His jaw clenches. 

“But,” you say, your voice dropping in tone. “If you don’t want this, at any point, tell me. No hard feelings.” You cross your fingers over your heart in a promise.

“I’ve known since I saw you that it would end with one of us tied up.” He tilts his head, raising his eyebrows up in an obvious fashion. “Next time, it’s your turn.”

Sitting beside his thigh, you pat it with mocking comfort. “Sure thing.”

He scowls at you but it’s quickly replaced by a sharp inhale when your hands reach out, pulling down his boxers. He’s half hard and you spit on your hands the same way you did last time. The action makes him tense. You reach out ghosting wet fingers across him and House hisses beside you. His attention is torn between your hands and your face. Eventually, you feel him decide to glare at you, and you look at him, a sweet saccharine smile in place. 

“You doing alright, House?”

“Not exactly. Feels like you’re trying to tickle my dick.”

You laugh, and the mask of power slips for a moment when you tuck your chin to your chest in a giggle. You look back at him coyly, and his jaw ticks. “‘M sorry. I don’t have to touch you there.”

House opens his mouth to protest when your hand abandons him, but the words are lost when you siddle in close to him and let your fingers dance across his chest. You lean in closer, face next to his and your lips ghost across his cheek. He says nothing, no cocky retorts or snarky remarks to be heard. You kiss his cheek, and trail down to his jaw, your hand making smooth shapes across the plane of his chest, his shoulder, his neck. You tug his shirt up and it stays wrangled up, showing the smattering of hair leading down his lower belly. You plant kiss after kiss on everywhere you can reach, soft and gentle. 

You find a spot on his neck and bite it softly before you continue across the smooth column of his throat, leaving wet kisses and marks wherever you can touch. Your other hand sneaks up behind him, entangling itself in his hair. You scratch against his scalp as you bite down on the junction between his neck and shoulder. He’s breathing heavily above you, and you finally abandon your own resistance, and lean closer, skating your lips across his. He leans into the kiss awkwardly, unable to support himself with his hands tied behind him, but he still pushes forward to you. You push him back, chasing after his lips and deepening the kiss. It’s intoxicating and feverish and your hand reaches down, this time firmly grasping his cock. He’s not half hard anymore, instead pulsing against your palm with heat. He gasps into your mouth and you smile against him.

You pull back, setting yourself beside him again. 

You pump him with your hand firmly, and he groans, hips bucking softly into your hand. You pull back, and he shoots you a confused look. 

You just smirk, staying silent. You pump him again, and pull back once more when he moves. He catches on quickly, hissing. “That is not fair.”

“Says who?” You tilt your head at him. 

“Me.” He scoffs, indignantly. 

“I don’t listen to crazy, tied up men.” You say, pouting sadly.

“Untie me then. I’ll prove I’m not crazy.”

“Nice try, House.”

You pump him again, and like the quick learner he is, he just grits his teeth and stays still. 

“Good job, baby.” You say sweetly, pressing a kiss to his neck. You stroke him again, this time tightening your grip each time you reach his head. You kiss at his neck, pumping him up and down, loosely and then firm in your fist. 

He swears beneath his breath softly. Not admitting defeat, but he’s getting there. 

You spit down onto your palm, swiping your thumb over his head. You pump him again, and again, your other hand reaching down to softly cup and squeeze his balls. 

He rolls his head back, leaning against the headboard with shut eyes. “Fuck, Newbie. The brothel teach you that trick?”

You hand tightens to the point of just-uncomfortable around his cock, and his eyes snap open as he groans. You snicker. 

“I’ve had a lot of free time- you’ve got so many pornos in your apartment.”

His eyes snap to yours, and even though he knows that he doesn’t own one porno that could have taught you any of this, his eyes get glossy with the thought. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.” You pump him in your hand, faster, quickening the speed. “You’d be gone for so long and I got so bored.”

He can’t even respond to you, and you let out a breathy, just for show, moan, face scrunching as you keep talking in a breathy tone. You pump him, bouncing on your calves slightly with the movement. “Had to fuck myself in your bed while you were gone. Did it when you were in the lounge room, sleeping on the couch.”

He’s enraptured, mouth open slightly and blue eyes pinned to yours as you continue. “Wasn’t enough. Just kept thinking I should go and wake you up and beg you to help me.”

His throat bobs. “You should have.”

You lean closer, running your mouth along his jaw. He just tilts his head back, giving you better access. “I will be.”

You pump him faster, the sound of his cock fucking into your hand obscene and filling the room. 

“Fuck.” He says, voice breathy. “I’m close.”

“Just gotta beg for, House. C’mon, you can use your words.” You mumble against his skin. “I’ll swallow it all.”

Maybe a small part thought that would break his resolve, but he shakes his head and you grin against him.

“No.”

You lean back, smirking at him. “Then you don’t get to cum.”

He glares at you, his nostrils flaring, but he says nothing, fine to be blue balled if it means you don’t win so quickly.

He expects you to stop your movement but you don’t. You keep pumping him, faster, harder, smiling softly at him. 

“W-what are you doing?” He asks, voice shaky, his hips stuttering into your hand- you won’t punish him for that right now. 

“Nothing.” You look at him innocently. “Just don’t cum.”

“Well, sweetheart.” He spits, still managing to sound like he has the power here. “I don’t have the willpower of a buddhist monk, if you keep jerking me off like this I’m going to cum.”

“I know.” You smile sweetly, pumping his cock up and down with your fist. 

He glances to your face, confused at what you’re playing at. He won’t understand until it’s too late, and so his gaze rips back down to where your hand is wrapped around him. 

“I’m-” He stutters. “Fuck, I’m going to-”

He can’t finish his sentence, as you keep jerking him at a brutal pace, his head lolling back. He groans, throbbing in your palm. 

You wretch your hand back at the last second and watch with a grin as his dick falls against his stomach, his cum splattering against his bare stomach. His voice is wrecked as he calls out, swearing. His breath is heavy, shuddering up and down. 

His dick is still hard and red, and his eyes fling open, glaring at you as you smile back at him.

“What the fuck did you just do , Newbie?”

You cross your finger over your heart. “A magician never tells her secrets.”

He opens his mouth to protest or cuss you out, but falls silent when you reach out and wrap your hand around his still hard cock once more. 

“Fuck! Fuck that’s so- fuck.” He groans, shaking his head. He lets out a wrecked sound from the back of his throat as you smear his cock in his own cum, using it to stroke him up and down once more. 

He’s oversensitive, but ruined. You look at him, jutting out your bottom lip. “You alright House? D’you want me to jerk you off again?”

He shakes his head and your movements instantly still, but then he nods. “No, yes. Fuck, that just feels so much more .”

Your hands resume their gentle movement as you grin wickedly. “That’s the point.”

 You pause, moving to nudge his legs apart and you resettle, kneeling between them. He sighs, relieved when your hand falls from his cock, giving him some reprieve. Instead, you spread your own legs, hand tracing down your soft stomach circle at that spot between your legs. You’re so wet, and you use the slick to run messy circles over your clit. You moan, your other hand falling to his non-injured leg for support. Your fingers dig into the skin as the pressure builds up in your core. He says nothing, and your eyes flick up to his, moaning out his name as you start to shudder. When you make yourself unravel in front of him, he doesn't say anything, but his cock bobs, neglected weeping at the head. 

You use your free hand to tug your shirt up, over your head. You spit into your messy palm, and reach up smearing both yourself and him against your breasts. 

“C’mon. Untie me.” 

Your eyes flick up to his, which are glued to your chest. “Beg.”

“No.”

“Then no.”

You shuffle backwards on the bed, and pat the mattress in front of you. “Move it, House.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m a tied up cripple. Did you think that one through?”

You shoot him a look, and he sighs but shuffles closer until he finally lays flat against the mattress, head still propped up by the pile of pillows. You settle between his spread legs, placing a kiss to his thigh. “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He scowls. “I got rope burn from my own belt.”

“Aw, you poor thing.” You look up at him, doe-eyed. “I’ll make it better.”

Your hand dips down to the apex of your thighs and once more you smear your slick against your chest. You spit into your hand too, and massage your breasts, squeezing them. 

You lean down, until you’re positioned perfectly over his cock. It bobs at your attention, and you look up, grinning at House. He still scowls at you, but there’s an excited glint in his eyes.

You nudge his cock between your breast, and move yourself, back and forward. You have to find a good rhythm first, but soon you’re guiding your slick breasts up and down his cock. 

“Shit. Fuck, Newbie.” He gasps, and you bat your lashes up at him, quickening your speed. Soft, wet slapping fills the room and you moan quietly.

He groans, cock still overstimulated. You just let drool pool onto your breasts, squeezing them tighter as give him a tit job. 

You hear him shuffle against the sheets and you look up once more, still guiding his cock in and out. 

He looks like he could murder you, but sucks in a sharp breath. “Please, let me cum.”

You tsk. “You call that begging?”

He groans as you keep fucking him, his own weeping pre-cum making it messier. 

“Please, Newbie.” He growls, voice drawing out into a groan. “Please, fuck, make me cum.”

“You lose.” You say softly. 

He nods, desperate, cheeks flushed, stomach tensing. He’s close, wrecked after his ruined orgasm. He needs this. 

You take pity on him, and still your movements. He whips his head up to look at you, aghast, but he curses when you quickly straddle him, nudging his cock closer to your centre, and sink down on him. 

You sigh as he bottoms out, while he groans loudly. He’s big, but with how wet and ready you are, you take him easier this time. He stills nudges up against your cervix, and you feel so full when you sit fully down on him. You don’t have it in you to play him any further, and instead begin bouncing yourself on him. It’s not harsh, but his moans have a desperation in them that coil that feeling in your stomach once more. 

“F-fuck.” He gasps, cursing when you angle him deeper. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Or vicodin.” You say, teasing.

He shakes his head, face scrunched up in pleasure. “You. It’s going to be you.”

“Yeah?” You breathe shakily atop him.

“Yeah.” He moans. “You feel so fucking good. Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me.”

You lean down, pressing your chest to his, kissing his neck softly. “Mmhmm. Just for you, House.”

“Just for me.” He growls, beneath you. At this angle, his cock nudges against that spongey spot inside you. Not having to ask for permission or be the one to beg, you hold that angle, fucking yourself on him, making his cock hit that spot again and again. 

He holds out well, but when you whine against his neck, and your orgasm rolls over you, clenching you against his cock, he lets out a loud groan. He bucks his hips into yours, and you sit back against him as he keeps cumming. He groans, and you feel his cock pulsing in you, throbbing against your walls. 

When he finally stops, he lets out a heavy breath, his chest falling and rising rapidly. 

“Fuck.” He says. 

“Fuck.” You agree, chuckling.

You swing your legs off him, his cum dripping out of you. You don’t care about ruining his sheets, and instead help him sit up, untieing him.

Even with his spend dripping out of you, and your slick smeared against his crotch, when his arms are untied he wraps them around your waist and pulls you closer, drawing you into a deep kiss. 

You smile against him. “Glad you’re not a sore loser.”

“‘M so glad you are.” He teases, lips tugging up.

[hms-no-fun]

i just want you to know that i read... i think Most of godfeels and had to stop because i was not enjoying it. but i think its really good and i really respect what you do. i think it's all too easy for people to mix up "this is not my cup of tea" with "this is bad and/or problematic". they dont take the time to see the artistry in it, why it is what it is, what it might be saying beyond their surface level read and the kneejerk reaction to it.

i also wanted to note that ive always been kind of scared of sharing fanworks for fear of writing "out of character" - and ive also even been afraid of it in original works. character isn't real and concrete, so anyone can decide something's out of character. so your exploration of that concept gives me more confidence as a writer. i really appreciate that and everything else you do. :)

thank you so much for this message! i'm glad you tapped out rather than force your way through something you weren't enjoying, that's a very mature response and something i wish more folks would recognize as a perfectly valid option. in fact i think pushing through and reading long after you've given up on the material, so to speak, is a great way to wind up angry at a writer for having "forced" you to endure such a trying experience. as i've said before, an author can't force you to do anything. you can close the book any time you like.

as far as the tension of "in character/out of character" goes, i think a lot of people in fandom struggle with the fact that "character" is very much in the eye of the beholder. sub-groups form within fandoms based on identities, politics, sexual predilections, etc, and typically gather around the fire that is their particular interpretation of a character. but from within that sub-group, it's rarely considered "an interpretation" so much as the obvious intended truth of the text. it's that intoxicating mood of finding people who share a perspective you rarely see elsewhere, like oh my god, you GET it, finally someone GETS it!

in homestuck fandom, for instance, quite a lot of people hate vriska and think she sucks, with a vocal sub-group of that sub-group still actively beating the drum that everything about her arc after [S] Game Over is the worst part of homestuck. but i love vriska, and my corner of the fandom very much organized around a full-throated defense of her. some folks think homestuck did tavros and gamzee dirty and that this is a fatal flaw in the text; when i countenance these people, i am convinced we read two very different comics. who's right and who's wrong? there are degrees. i can pull out any number of quotes from andrew hussie about the importance of vriska and the weenieness of tavros, but then, authors love to say things, and there's plenty of stories i love in ways that directly oppose to the authors' stated intent. the debate can never end because we are only ever talking about the version of a character or story that exists in our heads, based on the things that stuck with us when we read the thing (however long ago that was-- which is important because i find a LOT of people adamantly defending their headcanons haven't read the source text in a number of years. as time passes, your perception of the media you've experienced in the past morphs and distorts. someone who was right five years ago can be wrong today and not even notice the difference).

something i've realized in the last year is how much godfeels emerged from a very specific milieu, not just in terms of how we interpreted certain characters but in our approach to analyzing and talking about the text altogether. i believe most of the important stuff in godfeels is "in character" in most of the ways that matter, but it's built on a very specific meta that centered vrisrezi and transness and radical leftist politics and experimental hypertext. really, it's a post-Epilogues fanwork even despite the fact that godfeels 1 predates their release by a few weeks. and i think to this day a lot of homestuck fans haven't read the epilogues but have read fandom posts about how terrible they are (quite a lot of which will have either been written by teens, by people who already didn't like homestuck very much, or by one of the regressive stalkery weirdos prominent in the homestuck reddit/discord), and that misapprehension keeps them in the dark about just how many amazing tools the epilogues introduce to the homestuck formula that exponentially expand the expressive possibilities of attentive fanworks. and it of course elides the fact that the homestuck epilogues are a story about being in your 30s. i think we'll be getting a big re-appraisal of the epilogues in 5-10 years. it'll be the "twin peaks: fire walk with me" of homestuck, just you wait.

so these readers see my version of dirk being an unhinged murderous dick to a newly-out trans woman and go "he would never do that." then if i point at the epilogues, they'll say "i didn't read them/they're not even canon/that wasn't in character either." at which point there's nothing really to say, because we have two completely different perceptions of the text. who's right and who's wrong is almost always infinitely subjective, a circumstance that humans are notable for being very good at handling in a mature and politely discursive manner.

so i've got an "author's introduction" to godfeels baking in my docs to provide some context about the meta this story is built on, the milieu it came out of, that sort of thing. it won't make much of a difference in practical terms, but it'll at least be something i can point to.

in any event, thanks for this message. all i ever want is for people to give it an honest shot. i hope you can continue harvesting confidence from wherever it can be found. it takes a lot of audacity and backbone to be an artist, especially when you have something worthwhile to say. remember that you're not writing for the haters, you're writing for the kind of person, like you, who wants to see more stories like the thing you're writing. they're the ones who'll get it, they're the ones who'll stick around long after the haters have lost interest.

[gingerjunhan]

boyfriend headcannons - oh seungmin

☆彡 Grab your delulu pills. It’s Seungmin time.

word count: 710 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: all caps, struggles with confidence (mentioned), secret relationship (mentioned), not proofread, lmk if I missed anything!

← previous member | next member →

it’s time for my delusional king

I have a lot to say so let’s go straight into it

starting off strong with the FLIRTING and the TEASING

this man is ridiculous

he would never stop

yes he can be serious with you but if there’s ever a dull moment or if he gets bored, he suddenly starts playing the “Let’s Make (Y/N) Blush™️” game

he’s the king of nicknames

I’ve talked about this before but let’s run it back

“baby”/ “babe” (obviously)

“my love”

“angel”

“POOKIE” LMAO IMAGINE

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again… “princess” I’m so sorry

he also probably calls you something weird that you hate but he loves

like “pumpkin” or “sweetums” or something idk

it’s cringey but he thinks it’s soooo funny

I think out of the rest of the Heroes he’s the most stereotypical romantic

like, I bet Valentines Day with Seungmin goes CRAAAZY

but it bleeds into every other day of the year as well!

flowers

he brings you your favorite sweet little drink

MATCHING OUTFITS OOOOHHH—

I think he would looooove matching jewelry!

gym dates!

if that’s not your thing he just sends you gym selfies with a little “miss you 💜”

late night walks 🥹

stargazing

trying new restaurants

there’s never a dull day with him

even if you’re both lounging around on a day off it can be fun!

he pampers you always

the Princess Treatment™️ for sure

he’s always down to do face masks

feel free to tell me I'm wrong or call me crazy but I think your family might be a little iffy about him at first!

I think that he gives the most “bad boy” vibe out of all of the Heroes, but once you get him around your family enough they see that he’s just a huge nerd LMAO

I think he would make a huge effort to try and please your dad, brothers, or any of the men in your family

“What are your intentions with my child?”

“All good ones, sir.” 🫡

okay back to the romantics

I literally wrote about this one time and then never touched on it again but I think Seungmin would be big on skin-to-skin contact

I wrote this that one time months ago and haven’t stopped thinking about it so let me cook

your warmth makes him feel comforted so

you’re cuddling? his shirt is coming off

I’m blushing

sleeping next to each other? no shirt

lazing around the house? no shirt

he just wants to be close to you!

if you’re comfortable with it, he might ask you to be shirtless as well

if you’re not, he totally gets it, and he’ll opt to rest his hands on the small of your back under your shirt

if you’re not cool with that either, his hands find their way to your arms, hair, or wherever else you feel comfortable with

he makes sure to shower you in praise constantly

he wants you to feel as hot as he thinks you are!

if anybody tries to tell you otherwise he will throw hands

he’s the #1 (Y/N) protector

if you’re struggling with confidence he’s right there to give you the reassurance and support you need

he thinks you’re sooo gorgeous 🥹

when he’s away he’s constantly checking up on you

the texts, the selfies, the voice messages, the long phone calls

he’s truly in your pocket whenever you need him

he's probably clingy in secret (please don’t tell the others they’ll make fun of him)

sometimes he has you sit on his lap while he practices because “it helps him focus” mhmm okay sure

he brags about you all the tiiiiime

keeping your relationship a secret from villains literally kills him because they don’t know how cool you are :(

if he takes a selfie to send on bubble he gives you permission to say no because you want to keep it for yourself lol

he’s also your cameraman

“Oooo lookin’ good, baby.”

UGH I fear that I need him

moral of the story, he’s very flirtatious but also a simp so please hold his hand and tell him how much you love him before I do it for you EEEEE I 🩷 Oh Seungmin

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

[chaifootsteps]

Something that caught my attention in chapter 8 is that Lute's character is very inconsistent.

When Adam is killed, she runs to him and starts calling him sir, begging that he keeps his eyes open and calling him by his name in a heartbreaking way, like she's lost someone important to her.

Then, in the next scene she's like “he's dead so now I'm in charge, go to Hell and clean this mess, Lilith”.

Why did she cry then if in the next scene she doesn't feel hurt by the loss? Not even a little bit?

If I could rewrite that part, I would do something like this (a fair warning, I just woke up and my brain is working only with a cup of coffee, so maybe this is not that good):

Lute wants to get Adam out of the way, but she hopes to demote him, so she could be the commander and Adam is left out of the exterminations. She wants to expose him to the Celestial Court, explaining how he does whatever he wants, doesn't respect the rules of Heaven and all of that stuff.

Lilith offers her a deal, she'll help her take care of Adam since it aligns well with her plans, and resents him for what he did to her.

The deal is done, but while Lute thinks that she'll get evidence of Adam's lack of professionalism, Lilith is orchestrating everything to make sure that Adam dies, I doubt that she doesn't have any powers, so maybe she can influence his thoughts and emotions, making him more careless and too confident in himself so he'll make a fatal mistake.

Episode 8 happens, Adam is seriously injured by Sir Pentious's death ray (he deserves the heroic moment that we've been robbed of), but still Adam manages to kill him with a blast of holy light, and then is finished off by Charlie, who is angry and hurt, because she wanted to avoid all this and has lost a friend.

Lute didn't know that things were going to be like this, she just wanted to keep him away from exterminations and command the exorcists in a more respectable manner, not kill him. So she cries for him, says she's sorry, that please he doesn't have to leave her, when she has some flashbacks of the time they've spent together, because even if Adam is a manchild and sometimes is insufferable, she is accustomed to his presence.

Adam dies and Lute commands every exorcist to retreat and in the next scene confronts Lilith with her voice broken, her eyes are red because she's been crying, and she says “I didn't want him to die, just for him to be away from exterminations, are you happy now?” and Lilith instead of staying silent answers “You wanted him out of your way, but didn't specify how... At this point you should know better how important it is to be clear with your intentions”

Lute feels enraged at Lilith because she's been deceived, and at herself because she should've known better than to make a deal with her. And after seeing how Adam looked at her before his death, she knew that at some point, he could have resigned and given her the position of commander, because he trusts her and now he has died for nothing. And maybe she should have talked him out of the idea of bringing forward the extermination. But now it's too late to fix it.

I'm very sorry that the text is so long; and maybe not that good, but the inconsistency with Lute's character has killed me.

🍿anon

Man, I wish I could write this well right out of bed with only a cup of coffee fueling my brain. This is wonderful.

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

Gonta Character Thoughts

Someone asked me earlier today for some Gonta writing tips, and while I don't know fully how useful this wall of text is for that, it let me talk about Gonta as a character and about his motivations that I think some folks might appreciate either as people who like him or people who want to understand better why I'm so insane about him. It was also really fun to pull together my thoughts on him so I wanted to share!!

The main thing for me is that Gonta is pretty confident with himself when it comes to any situation that requires physical might. When it comes to lifting heavy things or fighting for his friends, Gonta is at ease and doesn't need to hesitate to consider if he Can do the thing. On the other hand, where he's a bit more nervous or hesitant is social situations. He's unfamiliar with and misses a lot of social cues and ends up stumbling and hesitant in situations he's never been in before (like class trials at the beginning of v3). In these situations he might look to follow someone's lead or even directly ask for help.

On the topic of familiarity, Gonta is also very well versed in knowledge related to bugs and survival, as well as nature, especially in the forest where he grew up. He is not very familiar with a lot of things other characters would take for granted as common knowledge (like computers, if its relevant at all he probably doesn't know much kanji). Gonta isn't Dumb but he is missing a cultural baseline for a lot of references and info that makes him struggle where other characters will have no issues.

Gonta's convinced that he's stupid because he lacks this baseline, and because of the reinforcement and teasing by those around him. He has pretty severe self-esteem problems, and he's convinced that all he's good for is his physical strength, as that's all people seem to value him for anyways. This led to a pretty bad complex during the killing game where he blamed himself for every single death ("if gonta could have just protected them this would have never happened. its all gonta's fault") which only got worse and worse. He's desperate to help out and be useful to the group so will go along with a lot if he thinks there's a chance he will be able to help. This is a major driving force for his character, especially in chapter 4.

Gonta is probably good with fine detail work (as he has to be to work with and mount bugs) but also will forget his strength if he gets excited or otherwise forgets himself. Very polite things like holding the door open for someone or offering to take someone's hand to help them down the stairs, or other things like that that aren't necessarily expected in every day life but definitely are of a stereotypical gentleman, Gonta will do whenever he can, but it's a very intentional thing. He might hesitate, remember he should be doing that, then go for it, which can end up a bit awkward. Gonta is very kindhearted by nature, so that will often come through even if he is a bit awkward about being gentleman-level polite. He's trying his best though.

Gonta is also very openly expressive. He can't hide or suppress his emotions very well most of the time, which means he emotes A Lot. He cries more easily than the other boys in v3, or really any of the characters in the v3 cast, and definitely cries more loudly and openly. But on the other hand, when he's happy, he glows.

The one emotion he tries his best to control is anger. A lot of Gonta's social isolation before he got lost (and even after tbh) came from the fact that he was bigger than the other kids and his neutral expression can be a bit intense/scary. He's not hotheaded in the way Kaito might be, but he's very careful with his words and himself when he's upset in this way.

Gonta will also make that intense expression where he grits his teeth and Looks angry when he's stressed or hurt. This can freak out his classmates to the point that he accidentally pushes them away when he needs their reassurance the most. (see: when you talk to gonta during the ch4 investigation, when he's freaking out about not being able to remember what happened and feeling useless, he makes this expression and Kaito gets scared.)

I need to stress though that Gonta is NOT aggressive. Almost every time in game where he considers physical violence as an option, he thinks through it carefully before acting (Defending Kaede before her execution, challenging Monokuma in ch4 before being talked down). A notable exception to this might be kidnapping people for the insect meet and greet, but that was less aggression and more Gonta being in a heightened state of emotion (convinced that everyone hates bugs, which upset him) so forgetting his strength.

Also, it's important to note that Gonta IS sometimes able to hide his emotions and tell lies, but it has to be very intentional and planned ahead of time. He can't suppress his tears at the loss of a classmate, and he can't lie easily (See trial 1 and 2 where Gonta very simply says that yeah he totally could have thrown the shotput ball or tossed ryoma into the tank /physically/, even though admitting this puts a target on his back). However, he was able to hide the truth of the outside world and the fact that he was likely experiencing some really intense emotions at the time from his friends as he and Kokichi executed their plan. Of course, the fact that they were virtual world avatars helps, but its not everything. I think he just has to plan to lie or prepare himself to put on a front in advance.

I know this is super long so just one last thing: Gonta will take a Lot of verbal abuse and teasing if it goes along with his already poor self image. Other characters will call him an idiot and he doesn't even bat an eye because he's convinced of the fact himself. That's why when Kiibo played back the audio recording of Kokichi during the Insect Meet n Greet the part that upset Gonta the most wasn't Kokichi calling him "simple-minded," but instead Kokichi saying that he didn't actually like bugs. He will stand up for himself (carefully, as he always acts when he's angry-upset) if other lines are crossed, though. Like in Ch2 when Kokichi says if Gonta keeps falling for his lies he will end up a victim of the killing game, to which Gonta says something like "Don't say that Kokichi, not even as joke."

I have more I could get into but that teeters more into personal headcanon territory on his friendships and backstory, so I'll hold off. but MAN I love Gonta and I love how genuinely deep his character goes. Its a shame so few people really get into his character beyond "sunshiney bug "himbo" ", there's a lot here that's fun to play with.

[princelylove]

Hmm I just have this question in my mind. Who do you think is the worst yandere to deal with and who is the easiest to deal with in Joestar blood line? (If can, I'd love to know your ranking on each person)

For me, I think the worst to deal with is Jotaro (he is too strong and smart to fight back) and the easiest is Jonathan (a gentleman, he is so sweet, so easy to manipulate)

~ 🏵️ anon ~

I included Lisa Lisa + Holly because nobody talks about them enough. I love women. Technically Lisa Lisa doesn’t count but shhh. I omitted Johnny because I feel like I should reread sbr… This is subject to change if my interpretation of any of these characters develops, but for now I'm fairly confident in it.

From easiest to worst:

I have to agree with Jonathan for the easiest. He hasn’t discovered free will or the fact that he has the potential to be a lot worse. Look at DIO- besides from the vampirism, that’s all Jonathan. That’s terrifying. A man of that size hunting you down is frightening, but you’re in luck, Jonathan has no plans of mistreating you. He’s very careful to respect your wishes- and mopes when you tell him no. He respects you, he’s not going to go against your wishes and escort you home without you wanting it. (He’ll just follow behind. Very far behind. No one is going to harm his darling on his watch.) He sulks if you flat out reject him, but he’ll leave you alone for a little while. It’s not gentlemanly to pursue someone after they’ve said no! It’s not gentlemanly to beat all of his love’s suitors to almost-death either, but that’s got nothing to do with you. “I just can’t afford to lose you. Won’t you please let me walk you home?”

The worst you’re getting with Josuke is his little random urges to act on his sadism, which is once in a blue moon. You’re fine. You even have the right to go outside and go places without him! He’s like the obsessive boyfriend that blows up your phone when you haven’t texted him in a while. If your phone has a do not disturb mode you’ll be alright. Just send him a selfie and a quick explanation of every little thing in the shot. He tends to cling when you return to him, but is that really so bad? Josuke’s your own personal weighted blanket, and doesn’t jump to conclusions when you miscommunicate. He’ll hear you out, let you explain yourself, take some time to think about it, and give you a little smack on the wrist if you didn’t do anything too bad. That isn’t to say that he won’t properly punish you, it’s just that it takes a lot for him to get there. He’s fair. “You’re going out? Kay, text me.”

Holly is a sweetheart, and by herself, should be much higher on this list.. Her son, however… is the worst. He likely learned his yandere tendencies from her in his youth, when she was still with his father. If you’re going to “parent” him, he’s gonna make sure you’re really fit to be around her in the first place. Holly knows how to read the room, she’s very good at picking up on someone’s true intentions. She’s seemingly very passive, but that isn’t really the case! Holly is very tolerant. She understands the stress, and just wants to help. You can lash out, say things out of stress, maybe even try to run away, but you’ll be back. If you’re not… Well, first you’ll receive a very special “pretty please” message, and second you’ll receive a very pissed off Jotaro, here to drag you by your collar back to where you belong. Holly truly believes that she knows better, and while she doesn’t have the personality to be firm and a bit mean to you to get you back in line, her son does. She doesn’t want to punish you! You’re her everything, your pain is her pain! You’re never in any real danger with Holly. Jotaro coming to get you, though? Fair game. “Oh, sweetheart… please let me put a bandaid on that. I’ll kiss it better!”

As long as you’re complacent, you’ll survive Joseph. Considering the lack of a physical threat, he should be a bit higher, but he’s more overbearing than Holly is, and more willing to trap you himself. Sure, he’ll follow you everywhere and insist on showing you every little thing he’s doing, but he means well. He’s very overbearing, but as long as you consistently show Joseph affection and the attention he’s begging for, you’re allowed to have a relatively normal life. It’s like having a big puppy following you around that thinks he’s a lap dog. He just won’t ever leave you alone. Or let you buy things yourself. Why would he?? He’s right there, let him do it! Not like he’s doing anything with that Joestar money. Joseph’s very touchy, he’ll almost always have his arm around you, or insist on holding hands. He needs you. He goes crazy without you. He can’t sleep, won’t train to his full potential, and barely touches his food if you’re not there. Joseph is obsessed with you, and can’t do anything without having a little hit of you first. Poor guy. “Have you ever thought about moving to new york?”

Jolyne can be an asshole, but she’s a lot better than the rest of this list. She tells it to you how it is- you’re hers, and she wants to be by you all the time. Jolyne’s not the most emotionally expressive, I see her a lot in younger Jotaro, but she is very verbally expressive. She has no mental filter; Nothing’s ever up in the air when it comes to Jolyne. She’s just sort of keeping guard over you most of the time, and is fine with just being around you, for a little while. She’s fine with physically threatening you if you get out of line, her muscles aren’t just for aesthetics. She does it in “subtle” ways- picking you up to move you out of her way, pulling you onto her lap, putting her well-built thigh over you while you’re sleeping together. She tells you to call her “Jojo” and won’t answer to anything else- I think she spent too much time with Gwess. She craves that mushy, disgustingly affectionate talk she used to get from her ex, and fully expects it from you. She’s terribly insecure, and needs the consistent reassurance that you’re into her or she’ll get in your face about it. You don’t like her anymore? What kind of stupid bitch changes their mind in a day? Did she do something? Are you mad?? What’d she do??? “You and me. That’s all you gotta think about.”

Lisa Lisa loves to micromanage. You don’t really need to think with her, do you. All of your needs will be met on her private island- there’s staff, luxurious utilities, and plenty of space for you to “free roam.” You might feel free in the beginning, but once you see people going about their day across the water, it’s clear how trapped you are. Lisa Lisa likes keeping you where she can see you, and if she’s busy with training, you can sit off to the side where it’s safe to watch. If it weren’t for Suzi Q, she’d ask that you bring her drinks every once in a while. Aht. Don’t forget her kiss, either. Lucky for you, Suzi Q is absurdly good at her job, and you won’t need to lift a finger. Just sit there, read your magazine in the sun, or pay attention to Lisa Lisa’s teachings. Not that she’d ever approve of you using hamon. You're meant to be hers, that's it. What's the point of teaching a lap dog how to be a guard dog? Just sit still and be pretty for her, or face the consequences. “Darling, come back inside.”

Jotaro does not know how to be normal. His yandere “habits” weren’t exactly discouraged in his youth, so he sees no issue with behaving this way. An older Jotato might be better to deal with- he’s more calm, more rational. I’d put older Jotaro in the high middle difficulty rather than being on top, since he has a lot more patience and won’t just rush to kidnap you, but young Jotaro? I’ll pray for you. Most of the people down this low on the list are intelligent, thorough, and aggressive. Jotaro meets all three of those categories. He just wants to protect you. Don’t be stupid and push him away. Controlling and way too overprotective, Jotaro sleeps well at night knowing that you’re exactly where you need to be- locked up where no one else can find you, and in his arms. He doesn’t really think much of physical affection- his mother normalized it so much that he truly doesn’t see anything wrong with always touching you. He’s just making sure your heart’s still beating, your lungs are still working, your stomach isn’t growling… Jotaro knows you need the sun, but to be honest, the most you’re getting is the courtyard, or an open window. He just can’t risk it. Maybe he can be convinced to give you some vitamins for what you’re lacking, as long as he can read the label and have some time to research where exactly it’s coming from. If you try to run away enough times, he’ll break your legs. He really doesn’t want to, and will hesitate riiiight before he snaps them both, but he will. He’ll nurse you back to health, and work you through physical therapy, so don’t whine. You did this to yourself. “Don’t be such a pain in the ass, I’m helping you.”

Giorno is not too keen on letting his possessions act on their own. That’s what you are, really. All of passione is under his possession, sure, the products, the money… the people. He views you as one of his things. That isn’t to say that he doesn’t love you, he very much so does, but there just isn’t room for doubt that Giorno views you as ‘his’ first, and a person second. He knows what he’s doing to you by clipping your wings, it’s a shame things have to be this way in order for him to obtain what he wants. He understands it's wrong to kidnap someone, and to restrain them, but in the end, isn't it for the better? It's like keeping a cat strictly indoors. You may underestimate him since he isn’t as physically built as the rest of his family- even Jolyne has considerably more muscle than him- but that would be unwise. Giorno’s thought of every possibility, and has prepared for it sufficiently- what he has on Jotaro is his ability to adapt, quickly. He's a very quick learner. Giorno can sweet talk his way out of any situation, whether that be through twirling his hair and giving you that doe eyed expression or through a genuine threat. He has both the foundation and passione twirled around his pinky. What makes Giorno so awful is his ability to read you, and the fact that if you ever seriously wrong him, you’ll never see Heaven. Once Giorno loves you, it's him or death- You get no warnings. It’s pointless to hide your true intentions from Giorno. You may think you have choices, but it’s all the same in the end. His expectations are very high, but to avoid disappointment, he’ll likely pick someone that already meets some of his requirements- Why would he go through the effort of fixing someone to his liking when he can find someone that’s perfect for him, and will stay perfect? Giorno is as alluring as can be, and once you’re finally within his grasp, there is no way out. “I expected more from you.”

[plazmafields]

It's ramble time because I started another playthrough of cyberpunk and have some Thoughts.

(Spoilers probably)

So I said in a previous post that I don't think Kerry is dating V just because Johnny's in his head, and I still believe that. However, I was also under the impression Johnny was a womanizer and way straight. However, now that they've fixed it so that what Johnny says is effected by your approval with him, Johnny's said some ... things. Things that make me think:

He's jealous of Kerry and V's relationship.

If you have high approval when Johnny gives you the quest Holdin' On, you can ask him why he and Kerry were always at odds. Johnny says something to the effect of: "Kerry could never decide if he wanted to fuck me or kick me out of the band. Problem was he has a dick, so I wasn't interested."

Now in my last 2.0 playthrough, my choices at the end of Phantom Liberty locked me into a low approval with Johnny that I couldn't come back from. With low approval, if you ask him in V's apartment if he's ok with you sleeping with Kerry, Johnny says (paraphrasing): "Sleeping with? He fucked you once. Don't get used to it."

However, with high approval he says: "Yeah. Kind of ironic, Kerry was always trying to get into bed with me and I guess he finally got what he wanted thanks to you."

V responds to this with: "You know, it's not always about you. Thought ever cross your mind?" And Johnny gives a snarky remark.

With low approval, Johnny is very defensive about Kerry sleeping with V. He and Kerry were friends, good friends, but even Johnny admits (while at his grave) that he never let anyone get too close to him. Kerry probably knew him second best after Alt, but how much of that was Johnny truly opening up, verses forced proximity? I really don't feel like Johnny is the type to be all "what are your intentions with my boy?" any time Kerry got a new boyfriend.

With high approval, Johnny still manages to make it about himself (as always), but for some reason his tone of voice sounds like he's not joking, he's genuinely thinking about whether this counts as him having fucked Kerry.

Now this leads me to ask: was it Johnny who had the crush on Kerry, and not the other way around? He brings it up all the time while you're doing Kerry's missions, but after Rebel Rebel, Kerry doesn't talk about Johnny unless you ask. None of the options when you talk to him at home mention Johnny, on the boat when he talks about Samurai, he doesn't bring up Johnny, and when he talks about starting a new chapter in his life you can ask "does this have anything to do with Johnny?" he says No very confidently, then takes a second to think and realize that none of this "rebirth" would have happened without V and Johnny. But (at least to me) he doesn't seem to consider Johnny part of his life anymore.

I think Johnny HATES that. I think Johnny always saw himself as hot shit and the most desirable man on the planet, and the idea that a gay man didn't want him drives him crazy. If Kerry were straight then of course he wouldn't fall victim to Johnny's charms.

If Kerry were bi (see my previous post if you wanna know my feelings on Kerry's sexuality in game vs in lore) then Johnny would have been able to convince himself Kerry just liked women more than men.

But he's not. Kerry's gay and somehow didn't want to ride Johnny seven ways to Sunday.

I don't know if that makes Johnny bi or not, but I really feel that Kerry wasn't the one who wanted to get into bed with Johnny, it was always the other way around.

~~~

I'm not convinced by this next part, but here's some tentative evidence to the contrary, if you wanna play devil's advocate:

In Kerry's sex scene, we see he likes something a little rough, and in some texts he mentions that he gets turned on when V is short with him (mainly thinking of the text convo you get if you start Phantom Liberty already dating Kerry).

Maybe Kerry likes when people play hard-to-get and ignore him, maybe he's got a bit of a humiliation kink going on, and maybe he got turned on by the way Johnny was always mean to him.

I feel like that's stretching things tho, we don't have a lot of evidence for that, just a text that was added after the initial release of the game, and a single slap in a cut scene.

Another thing to mention because I feel like I can't NOT mention it: why the fuck does Kerry look DIRECTLY into Johnny's eyes as he gets head from a fan on the stairs??? That kinda throws a curve ball into all of this and I'm not sure what to make of it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[potatomountain]

“Bad Week” -Yunho Comfort

Synopsis: after a bad week, and mother nature hitting, you try to deal with it yourself only for your ever attentive and loving boyfriend to catch on <3

Genre: Comfort/Fluff

word count: 2.2k

pairing: Nonidol!Yunho x (afab)reader

A/N: I decided to also do a wee bit of SMAU here or idk, just some fake texting <3 so any feedback is appreciated!!

tags: @candypop1611 @hwaightme-recs @justhere4kpop​ @layzfeelit​

You wish you could chalk up the whole week to nerves or stress, maybe even blame it on mother nature who reared her ugly head in the middle of your work shift: but that would be a lie. Simply too much happened, and you brushed each thing off with a simple "it's fine, I can handle it."

Things had always been tough since Covid struck, but you got through it. It hadn't helped you had moved to Seoul just before Covid, making adjusting to the large city harsher than you had expected, but because it had been so hard you had started working at a nearby arcade right after quarantine. Not many people would come in, there was still a pandemic going on, but your now boyfriend was a regular.

Over a year with him and despite the struggles he made it the best year of your life, that didn't mean he had to fix all your bad days. Grudgingly you moved through your apartment, looking for your heating pad as your lower abdomen twisted with pain sharp enough you felt bile rise in your throat. Yet you couldn't find it anywhere.

So it was going to be that kind of day.

Frustrated, you messaged your boyfriend, looking just where he had said a moment later. Your frustration spilled over with red cheeks, grabbing the pad and heading to your room with every intention of just curling in a ball and playing Minecraft, such an easy and mind-numbing game it'll be fine.

Accept it wasn't. You told Yunho he didn't need to come, that you would be fine, but as he announced he was on his way any reply died on your fingertips as an email flashed across your screen.

One click and your shoulders dropped further. "Another one…" this was the third gaming company to deny your application this week. It was a far shot to begin with, with nothing but your degree under your belt and the arcade your current job- well it wouldn't be at the end of this week.

Just a week ago you were given the news that this coming Sunday was the last day the arcade would be open, the owners wanting to cut their losses from Covid and sold it to some other company. You didn't know what company but you knew they were getting rid of the arcade, and in turn your place of work. You hadn't told Yunho yet, holding onto a small bit of hope you would have a new job by Sunday and that instead of the depressing news you could celebrate with him.

As you curled into your desk chair in sweats and one of Yunho's shirts hanging over your frame, heating pad over your stomach and blanket wrapped around you like a cocoon, you knew you were going to have to tell him. As no job meant no money, which meant no rent-

You cut the thought off, starting up your pc you built yourself, watching the three monitors come to life. Games were your passion, playing and making them, so computers and game systems were a second passion by association. You just weren't confident you were any good at it, the recent rejection email solidifying that in your heart a bit more.

You had just started building your starter base for the new game you started when you heard your front door, knowing Yunho was being true to your word but you just didn't have the energy to get up- or call out.

"CUPCAKE I'M HERE WITH CHOCOLATE!" You could hear him setting down bags, moving around the kitchen, only to pause when you didn't respond. "Cupcake?"

Footsteps and then the bedroom door was open, Yunho's tall frame leaning in and blocking most of the light from the hall filtering into the dark room.  You looked up and gave your best reassuring smile, but you could tell it didn't work. "Hey Yuyu bear, what about game night? Yeosang was looking forward to it, wasn't he?" It also might have just been the fact it was his turn to order the take out.

Yunho covered the distance between you two with ease, leaning down and placing a kiss on your forehead. "He'll have his chicken, and I convinced Mingi to take my spot- my baby needs me so of course this is where I should be."

"I'm fine-" Your immediate protest was cut off by his finger against your lips.

"Nu-uh, you only play minecraft when you aren't. And not just because of mother nature either." He turned the chair so you had no choice but to face him, his hand moving from your lips to cup the side of your face. "So movies or funny youtube compilations? Markiplier has a new video we can watch, or we can watch the guys' stream and watch Mingi epically fail? And of course with all the cuddles and snacks and chocolate!"

Yunho refrained from asking what's wrong but you could see the question in his searching eyes. Here he was ready to shower you with care, affection, and just overall baby you all night just because you needed it, no questions really needed asked. Yet you felt the need to tell him, just not yet, right now you wanted nothing more than to accept the comfort he was offering.

"I'd love that Yuyu… but I don't want to move." You whined, reaching up and placing your hands around his wrist, leaning into his palm.

"That's fine I can carry you." He was smiling so sweetly. "Save your game and shut it down, I'll go set everything up. Are we watching the guys?"

You nodded, watching him run off before saving and shutting down the computer. Moments later, after he took your heating pad, Yunho was picking you up bridal style in your bundle of blankets and carrying you down the hall. The lights were low, coffee table covered with your favorite snacks and drinks and candies, the bear Yunho had bought you for your birthday sat on one end of the couch with the heating pad in the middle where he set you down.

Several more moments, the stream playing on the TV already, and you were copied into his side with the bear on your other, snack in hand and laughing at something Yeosang was scolding Mingi for in the stream.  "They just started and Mingi is already getting on Yeosang's nerves." Yunho tsked, placing a kiss to the top of your head. "Tell me if you need anything, cupcake."

"Just you…" We settled together in comfort, eyes on the screen. He got more and more vocal as we relaxed, pointing out Mingi's mistakes and laughing as Yeosang roasted him, reading the comments as Yeosang was a big streamer anyways.

It was only when he finally addressed several comments asking where Yunho was, that your lightened mood plummeted once more. Right, he should be with them.

Your ever attentive boyfriend noticed, especially when you tried to shift away. "Cupcake… are you ready to talk?"

You weren't sure if it was the sweet understanding tone of his voice or the way he pulled you up into his arms and tilted your head back that did it, but when your eyes finally met his softened ones, the tears started. "I'm sorry- you're missing out on your friends because of me. Because I can't keep my shit together-"

"Hey. Hey hey hey none of that!" He stopped your ramblings with his thumb over your lips, only to push it gently over your cheek and wipe away your tears. "You are entitled to your breakdowns and sad days, and even if it's just a break day, you don't need to force yourself to be happy. Please don't do that for my sake either."

"But-"

"No buts, at least not those buts." He leaned down, pressing a few kisses along your brow. "I love you, on your good and bad and ugly days equally- in fact I want to love you more on days like this. You do that for me all the time. When I have a particularly complicated student that frustrates me or takes up more of my energy than usual, or have to deal with parents- or when everyone is being chaotic back at my house. You know living with three other men is no fun. Wooyoung alone can get on all of our nerves."

He kissed away each and every tear he didn't wipe away, holding you so close in his embrace it was hard not to feel safe and secure. That was the thing with Yunho, he really was like a big teddy bear. "No wonder Hongjoong moved out as soon as he could, despite the blow to Hwa's sanity."

"I'm surprised Seonghwa didn't leave with him- but that's not the point right now, you are and how much I love you. How much you do for me, how much you keep me sane and happy and help me. I want to do the same for you, but I can't if you won't tell me what's got you so down." He nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head now that your tears had slowed some, your hands gripping his shoulders as he held you closer.

"It's just…" Sighing, you knew he had a point, and you couldn't say no or keep anything from your love. "The arcade closes permanently this Sunday and I don't think I'm cut out to be a game developer. I haven't finished my solo project and I got my third rejection email this week… if I can't find another job, I don't know what I'm going to do- games are my life I-" You broke off on a choked sob, turning your head to cry into his shirt now that you have finally spoken your fears.

He held you tighter, muttering sweet words of comfort and urging you to let it all out. "It's okay, I'm here for you, cry all you want Darling. I got you. I always got you." His words just had you crying harder; why didn't you come to him sooner? Your sweet Yunho.

He didn't sound aggravated or annoyed with you once as you cried for who knows how long, in fact he teared up himself, berating himself for not noticing sooner and not taking care of you properly. This wasn't just a little something, this was a big change and he felt horrible that you felt like you couldn't come and talk to him about it just because it wasn't a good change. 

He racked his brain for a solution, for anything he could do to help and make it up to you, as a partner not just as someone in love with you. And finally, when your sobs died to quiet muffles, he spoke. "Don't get another job right now, why don't you focus on your game?"

Your head flew back to stay up at him wide eyed, shocked he would even suggest it. "I don't have a way to pay my bills, Yunho! I can't just-"

"I'll pay them. In fact, let me move in with you. I want to be with you, and I'm here so often anyways… I want to wake up to you and go to sleep with you every day. I want to take care of you, for as long as you'll have me." He smiled down at you, his sweet smile you adored with nothing but love and adoration in his gaze as he once more wiped your tears away. "So? What do you say, cupcake? Me, you, this apartment? I can afford to pay for it and take care of us both while you finish up- I promise."

You wanted to protest, not wanting to put all that weight on his shoulders, but you knew Yunho had been saving for his own place already- and you very much liked the idea of living with him. "I love you, you know that?"

"Mmm yes, but I can never get tired of hearing it." He nuzzled his nose against yours before placing a soft kiss on your lips. "I love you so much, let me take care of you. Let me support you and love you unconditionally in these apartment walls- come on, let me in."

You knew he meant more than just physically letting him into the apartment by those words, your heart softening further. "On one condition." You pressed closer, arms locking around his shoulders. Neither of you noticed the stream was over. 

"Name it. "

"You have to be the first to play my game when I finish it."

He gasped against your lips, holding you tighter in a bundle in his arms. "I thought that was already the plan!"

"Admit it, that's the real reason you want to move in- you want to play it sooner."

He chuckled, trailing kisses all over your face. "Caught red handed- I wanted bragging rights to be the first to play the next best game to exist; aside from the fact that my genius Cupcake is the one who built it."

Laughing at the assault of his kisses you could only accept. Just like that, a bad week, turned into the best week.

[anghraine]

firinnish replied to this post [a poll about headcanons for the in-story reasons that the Stewards were not in Gondor's line of succession despite being descendants of Elendil]:

for practical reasons. Gondor's late kings were BAD KINGS. That is a vital part of the text. There is even a part of the history where a 100% legitimate claimant comes along and Gondor is just like "nah". These are people who hold kings to a high fucking standard because they want their noble fantasy kings of old back & don't want to risk another shitty king It is explicit in the text that Aragorn is the rightful heir to everything, like, five ways from Sunday, but he does NOT just stroll in and be like "what's up yall take orders from me now". He first wins a battle for Gondor, goes among them as a stranger with healing hands (fulfilling a prophecy/legend), and rides to battle against Sauron before he dares actually assert that these people should ACCEPT HIM AS ABSOLUTE DICTATOR. His lineage isn't the thing that matters [...]

You left a ... lot of replies on my poll, so for the convenience of my dash, I'm putting the rest of your response below my reply, in italics, so people can see it and/or respond if they want.

I disagree at some level with almost everything you said. I'm not going to go into exhaustive detail about every point of disagreement, but Arvedui is very much not a 100% legitimate claimant in my view.

His argument that his wife Fíriel's birthright would make him king of Gondor under Númenórean law is simply false (Fíriel herself would have been ruling queen under Númenórean law and Arvedui no more than her consort; the only men who ruled Númenor through the birthrights of their wives were usurpers of those wives and/or of their children). The claim of the heirs of Isildur is debatable, in-story—the characters cannot know Isildur's intentions when "he forsook the South Kingdom", as The Silmarillion describes it—but Arvedui was not even heir of Isildur at the time that he made the claim. His father was still alive; Arvedui made the claim at the time he did simply because his wife's father and brothers had just died and he saw the chance (if a low chance) to seize power in Gondor.

Gondor's late kings made significant mistakes (as did many of the kings in Arnor and Arthedain) but were not, IMO, as bad as you're representing them. Eärnil especially seems to have been quite a solid character. In any case, I'm unsure what this, or your personal willingness to accept Aragorn over Denethor as absolute dictator has to do with my poll. I do prefer Denethor to Aragorn in general and think the Stewards historically have been better rulers than the kings of either Arnor/Arthedain or Gondor, so we're basically at "I would kneel to Aragorn and not Denethor" "well I wouldn't", which leads nowhere. But again, I actually don't know what Aragorn has to do with my post.

I also don't know why you're quoting movie Boromir in the course of lecturing me about Tolkien. This is all just kind of puzzling on my end.

The rest of the replies:

His lineage is what makes HIM certain that that is his destiny & causes people around him to react to him but they are also reacting to the obvious training/care/investment that has been made in him by people like FUCKING ELROND, his NOT SIGNIFICANT foster father, and to his deeds. any time he claims his lineage Tolkien writes about how he almost shines with confidence and the glory of the old days. He is the myth of a good king reawakened

You could be a completely legit ancestor of the most legit proven heritage & the people of Gondor could STILL JUST SAY NO. Heck Boromir reacts like that at first - "Gondor doesn't need a king". The people do not WANT a shitty king with a famous dad, they want to believe again, they want to be made to hope again, they want someone who inspires them to believe in the IDEA of a king again. Otherwise they could literally just say no lol

And this ties in a vitally important way into Tolkien's politics. Man was a monarchist and an anarchist at the same time. You can't put him in either box. The hereditary kingship in Tolkien's politics is only acceptable BECAUSE it is the freely chosen will of the people to be ruled by an absolute dictator who, for the most part, leaves them alone. The king gets his hereditary power from familiarity & belonging, just as much as from tradition

*not insignificant. Elrond is very significant

It really hinges on this idea that a good king can exist - like, a good family can raise some good kids and everyone in the area will be happy to accept them as the new rulers because they've known that family for generations and they know they're a good family and they are happy with the way things are and don't want to rock the boat & they really believe in these ideals of nobility and loyalty. That's part of the fantasy. The idea that that can work if you're good.

The return of the king isn't "the return of the guy with the right genes", it's "the return of the guy who can make us believe again in the idea that a good king can work, that the world can be as noble and loyal as it was in the elder days of myth and glory, that we could swear loyalty to someone who is absolutely worth it"

You cannot extricate the inability of the Stewards to be Kings from the decline of Gondor's self-image, the crumbling ruins of Tolkien's world, the rising threat of Mordor and the end of the Third Age. The stewards cannot be kings because Gondor cannot be a kingdom. Aragorn can be King because he is the man that made Gondor a Kingdom again. He freaking REUNITED THE KINGDOM AND USHERED IN THE AGE OF MEN.

I'd kneel before Aragorn. I'd fucking walk away if Denethor asked me to kneel before him. It has nothing to do with these strict legalistic ideas of who inherited what and much more to do with who actually has power. Same as in the real world - people got overthrown all the time by others who could command more troops/money. But in Tolkien's world it's about who deserves it more, rather than about who has money/force, and that's the fantasy he is selling us

The part of this fantasy that is deeply problematic is that Tolkien just doesn't really reflect on his ideas about how coming from a noble lineage and a good family makes you better, more deserving, or more honourable. It's a natural idea to him, and it isn't to us and that's why it's harder to understand. He thinks goodness is heritable, like height or intelligence or sporting ability is heritable, because he can't disconnect those things

To him, "Aragorn is descended from xyz" is saying the same things as "well Aragorn just deserves the crown more because he's a better person". Aragorn inherited more strength, grace, wisdom etc. And the modern world does NOT like talking about the idea that any of those things could be heritable because, well, that's usually used to defend racism and horrible inexcusable shit

But I think you CANNOT engage with Tolkien without grappling with that (except on a very shallow level)

I may have written too much in the replies but I got carried away. Sorry I like over analysing Aragorn

If Tolkien was ever actually asked "do you believe some races are better than others" he would have told you to fuck off. He was vehemently against the Nazis. But then he writes this book in which elves are very clearly better than orcs. ie. you cannot simplify him to a liberal icon or to an evil racist. He's fucking complicated. I think on some level he WANTS there to be this fantasy world in which race is that simple but he understands that in the real world it isn't

In Tolkien's head, it's NEITHER "Aragorn was entitled to the kingship due to his descent and didn't need to do good deeds" NOR "Aragorn earned the kingship thru good deeds and his lineage didn't matter". He proved his heritage through good deeds because only someone who INHERITED tons of awesome qualities would be able to do the stuff Aragorn did

The modern reader simply does not consider the idea that awesomeness is heritable so we don't engage with the idea that you could prove you're descended from kings simply by being really really awesome

He uses the ideas of the blood of old kings running strong in some people and being weaker in others to talk about the amount of awesomeness you inherited. The technical legality of the stewards' family tree does not matter. The stewards did not inherit enough awesomeness and are therefore insufficiently awesome to defeat Mordor and restore the kingdom

It is not a simple or a coherent ideology either. Compare how Tolkien's hobbits are "small unimportant people who can become heroes" yet we do NOT see small unimportant Men becoming kings. It's like a special exemption is carved out for hobbits, for a modern "anyone can achieve anything" philosophy, and the rest of the world runs on the older rules of "you can't rise above your destined station"

It's very comparable to works in the 90s which were trying to be feminist by showing a super awesome badass female heroine…. yet every background character beyond Token Badass Woman was still running on the old rules of "men are default characters, women only exist to be wives or damsels in distress" because they had not actually gotten to the point of questioning that underlying background ideology yet

like the half elves. He's trying to be a progressive person by being like "oh biracial characters exist and are awesome" but everyone ELSE in his world still fits neatly into the boxes of "you're either x or y". We have heroic half elves. We do not have masses of half dwarf quarter orc quarter elf characters chilling in diverse multiracial cities.

someday people will see us this way btw. at least I hope so. they will see our bravest progressive statements as the stumbling half steps towards truths that have become obvious to them, while in the background of our stories they can still see our limiting old ideologies showing through. I am not yelling at Tolkien I have so much empathy for this man who tried so hard in such a darker world

[kucho04]

ENOUGH!!!! I wanna hear your take on HimuKuro because now I think about them!!! And I blame your gorgeous drawings!!! (this is a request to unleash all the headcanons and thoughts and everything sorry i sound overexcited lmao)

Hello ❤️❤️ its so satisfying to see others liking it haha just according to keikaku...

I am still building out their dynamic and headcanons on my head, but I have a couple of things(also a sort of starting point). Kind of long post ahead

As I have mentioned in an older post(and I'm pretty sure you read it?) Himuro is a very emotional person, and Kuroko is a great support, chill to be with and listener. Not like harmful emotional dependence, its more a relationship of safe space and acceptance of each other.

Himuro has a tendency of being too harsh with himself and Kuroko could be a great influence changing that :)

I don't think Himuro would get in between Kuroko/Kagami, I see it happening if Kuroko feelings are unrequited therefore his heart got broken :'( Himuro heart got broken by Kagami once too so yeah. At first, he thought it would work between them, and surprisingly it didn't.

Kuroko in love gaze was still there, but with a pinch of sadness on it. On the few occasions they were all reunited, at some point Himuro noticed he was unconciously thinking about Kuroko in a different way, maybe seeing himself on it.

On a solidarity act 💔❤️‍🩹🤝 Himuro asked him to go eat something together without any particular reason(of course Kuroko figured out what was the reason behind). Although initial Himuro intentions were to comfort him a bit, as the conversation went on, and he knew Kuroko a bit more, he again empathized with him and did not wanted to see Kuroko so sad like himself were years back.

Not sure of what he was doing, feeling? compassion, love, friendship? asked Kuroko to hang out more often. Kuroko could get distracted doing activities with him + Murasakibara as a plus ^_^ "ooo muro-chin liking kuro-chin means I get to see kuro-chin more often..." haha

Occasional, though! Kuroko is still close to his Seirin friends and Kagami :D

Eventually Himuro acknowledges what he felt when seeing or talking with Kuroko, and asks him to have a date <3 in this field Himuro is more confident, if reciprocated. Kuroko is surprised, but happy to share this with someone like Himuro-kun ❤️ so cheesy forgive me.

Anyways... they could bond on similar past experiences. Also, I think they're breaking a pattern on the type of people they've liked before, and that's interesting for both. I like to believe that Himuro knows what he wants, and is an attentive, passionate lover in his own way. Kuroko is similar :)

In more headcanons, weekend visits are occasional, but very special! I think Himuro would visit Kuroko more often than the other way around, specially in surprise on fridays after class :) Kuroko at the beginning is still a bit shy in doing things like that but gains enough confidence to also appear from sudden in Akita :D the distance between them is big as hell but they do text a lot, when time is available.

Murasakibara is included, and invited into 85% of their plans. How could you not invite him

Himuro calls Kuroko by his name(Tetsuya), but for Kuroko it takes him longer and is difficult to do the same thing, forgetting it often. Tatsuya-kun is more fitting for him to say and uses it occasionally :)

That could be all for now! It can be longer, but I don't want to delay this ask more ahh

I think about them at least once or twice a day so more HimuKuro stuff to come :)c I am obsessed.

[breadvidence]

Today, on things I'm thinking about:

The medicalized model of the mind is more or less inescapable in the mainstream American consciousness (can't speak to the international scene, though I assume chapter five of the ICD has a similar hold as the DSM does in the States), to the point that I had a hell of a time choosing a phrase that wasn't speaking from that model. Whether the layperson's understanding and the clinician's understanding are the same is irrelevant to how it impacts media analysis, which is where I'm going with this, this is about Les Misérables, character analysis, and writing fanfic, what blog do you think you're on. I can't get out from under neurodivergence and mental disorder when looking at characters written by an author whose life predates those concepts, and there are two problems here for me, personally:

Victor Hugo's acuity in the description of the human experience (and his comedic faults in not depicting what I would call "neurotypical" people for shit) does not alter the inherent fact of fiction that you write from your understanding rather than reality—we're all in the cave—and his intent behind the characters' maladaptive, adaptive, and divergent behavior/personalities can't be meaningfully interpreted from the medicalized model—the author is dead, but he also dead-ass wasn't thinking about the diagnostic features of autism, either, or of autism as a neuropsychiatric way of being shared between humans across time and place. The fact that autism is a way of being that's existed across time and place (per my understanding!) is irrelevant. I'm putting aside, for the moment, the way Romantic tropes and symbolical choices impact verisimilitude as a journalistic depiction of daily life versus verisimilitude as the reality principle underneath... Y'know, no, I'm breaking off, what I'm saying is we're analyzing characters, their thoughts and actions, as if they have real people psyches and as such we're gonna leave aside the fun wacky way you can read, say, Éponine's ascent/descent from humanity to monstrosity, which prob cannot effectively be pointed to as a reflection of Hugo's understanding of how people work in the daily any more than it can be commented on as "hey, I knew somebody who did that, the doc said she had an adjustment disorder and that's why she became a ghoul with incredible powers over the plot". Anyway. When Victor Hugo writes of Valjean's eyes in 4.3.8 "they were those deep and glassy objects which replace the glance in the case of certain wretched men", I can pretty confidently say he's not thinking you know, a dissociative reaction, and that's a meaningful difference from an interpretive point than my looking at it and saying oh yeah, a dissociative reaction. To really feel how an author's understanding impacts their depiction of the human psyche, read literally anything written by someone who was a real close adherent to Freud. If you're just bip-bopping along looking for personal significance and meaningful patterns in the book this—don't really matter much, actually, we're not digging up the truth (there's no truth in literary analysis!) of the relationship between Hugo's framework for How Humans Work, In Their Minds and the book he made, we're just doing something fulfilling and fun. Still. It bugs me.

As you may know, I write little fanfics, which means (you also know, but to say it in a way that's fun for me to type out) parsing down the original text into a groundwork to then extrapolate from it in a way that is recognizable to readers familiar with it (sometimes very fucking familiar) (or sometimes readers familiar with other extrapolations from the text [I'm looking at you, Amis fandom], which I find mildly mind-blowing as a phenomenon tbh, just really neat—anyway). To some degree, point (1) kinda doesn't matter on whether or not I'm going to produce fic that makes readers happy, because fandom is about alteration of its beloveds (sometimes deliberate writing against its texts) as much as it's about mimicry, besides which y'all are also mostly living in the same cultural context as I am, reading Combeferre and Jean Valjean and Marius and whoever through the autism glasses right along with me. And yet still: it bugs me.

This matters less for Dammit, where the characters are living under the medicalized model¹, but it's disruptive to me when I'm working with the longer canon era pieces like Loup-Garou, where I'm aiming for a Hugo pastiche and the medical framework feels disruptive. Presumably the thing to do, here, would be to engage with some of the writing from canon era about why people experience outsized bad feelings and fuck themselves over—the root of psychiatry, right there—or to simply go "the fic does not actually suffer from this disruption, you have severe untreated anxiety and maladaptive perfectionism, you dipshit".

Which is a secondary roadblock to the present bigger problem with Loup-Garou, which is that I forgot to write down a note to myself about what the plot is and have forgotten it, because forgetting things is 90% of what my brain does. Oops!

Anyway, out of a resentful acknowledgment of my inability to escape thinking about social-mental ouchies and whoopses without medicalizing them, I will say that Loup-Garou Javert is deliberately not functioning with the same neuropsychiatric patterns as Dammit Javert—the latter has, at root, a history of severe crippling childhood anxiety that he has, as you do if you manage to survive to be an old functional lunatic, developed behavioral management for without medical intervention. He's functional. It's like a broken bone that heals without a cast, you know? And that characterization is based off of the line "When I have subdued malefactors, when I have proceeded with vigor against rascals, I have often said to myself, ‘If you flinch, if I ever catch you in fault, you may rest at your ease!’" (1.6.2—and in general Dammit Javert is more strongly aligned with the things that Javert says about himself in that scene than he is with what Hugo says about him in 1.5.5). Loup-Garou Javert has zero anxiety, he is Big Head Empty It's A Limpid Pool. In 5.1.1 we have "Thought on any subject whatever, outside of the restricted circle of his functions, would have been for him in any case useless and a fatigue", which fandom generally takes to mean he has not had thoughts: for Dammit Javert, he's had many useless and fatiguing moments in his life, he has thought things over, and his conclusions were either counterproductive/maladaptive/illogical or he bailed out before he reached them. Loup-Garou Javert aligns closer with the standard fandom interpretation of those lines. This is 100% because I wanted to play with an alternate take on the character. But that means I gotta somehow explain his perfectionism and rigidity and all without anxiety as a substrate, and I don't—actually 100% know where I'm going with that. Possibly puppy autism. Sometimes you don't know 'til you write it.

No real conclusion, here, just thinkin'.

(1) Lore! In one of those threads that inform the story but aren't visible, this impact Javert in particular—his medical record has OCPD as a diagnosis, F60.5 submitted on the insurance paperwork, and that means his psychiatrist [1] does not have a robust research literature to draw on when making medication decisions and [2] is working under the bigotry against personality disorders that doctors fuck over their patients with. If you ask me, the author, whether OCPD is a correct diagnosis, I would say [1] why do you want word of god, live your best Dammit interpretive life, if it's not on the page run free in the fields [2] I am highly cautious of the entire diagnostic framework of personality disorders as meaningful categories for human experience/psyches [3] without a sense of discontent over his career leveling out early, no close friends or family to push for change in damaging interpersonal patterns, and self-developed management of disruptive behaviors like angry outbursts, if I wanna armchair psych for a fictional character, there's not really something to treat as a medical problem, unless you wanna say that God this man is unpleasant in a way that fits a pattern of social maladjustment experienced by many people warrants medication the patient doesn't want, & so you might as well address his health problem under the label of an adjustment disorder and call it a day [4] all that being said, it's a better diagnostic framework than OCD, if you want a diagnostic framework, given all that maladaptive is consistent with his sense of self and he's not engaging in ritualistic behavior. Dammit Jean Valjean absolutely has gold standard PTSD and MDD tho, someone should diagnose that man and load him down with drugs.