#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.

[thedensworld]

Top 10 Anime Betrayal | K.Mg

Genre: fluff, est. Relationship

Summary: It's hot news, and you can't help but share it with your boyfriend because Mingyu always loves your stories—top 10 anime betrayal level.

Author note: literally based on a recent experience of mine. I'm done with them凸( •̀_•́ )凸

“I swear this one takes the top spot on my list,” Mingyu giggled, recalling your earlier struggle to articulate what had left you so speechless. You had been fuming, your voice caught somewhere between disbelief and anger, too stunned to say anything coherent when he first asked you what was going on.

“So, now you’re ready?” he teased, leaning back as he observed you intently. He noted that your breaths were steadier, your flushed cheeks had regained their normal color, and the fire in your tone had simmered down, if only just a little.

You nodded, taking a deep breath before starting. Mingyu tightened his hold around your waist, drawing you closer. The two of you were sitting on the couch, your legs draped over his as you straddled his lap, his face inches away from yours. The proximity between you revealed just how eager and passionate you were to share this news.

“I told you about Yunji last night, right?”

Mingyu’s eyes lit up with recognition. Of course, he remembered Yunji—one of your closest friends. She was a sweet girl, full of kindness and patience, but she had unfortunately ended up with a very toxic and manipulative man. Yunji had been dating this guy for five years, and you and your other friend, Dain, had tried numerous times to show her what kind of person he really was—a cheater, a liar, and emotionally abusive.

Mingyu’s jaw had dropped when you first told him about the time Yunji’s boyfriend almost slapped her, and how he always tried to undermine her achievements, belittling her and making her feel small. You had recounted how you confronted Yunji with all the things you’d uncovered about him, only for Yunji to respond with words that had left you devastated. “I don’t know who to believe.”

“She didn’t believe me, babe. It broke my heart,” you’d confided in Mingyu that night, tears of frustration and hurt streaming down your face. Mingyu had held you in his arms for hours, whispering comforting words and stroking your hair until you finally drifted off to sleep, both of you still aching from Yunji’s refusal to see the truth.

Last night, Yunji had texted the group chat in a frenzy, saying she’d finally caught him cheating. She’d found messages on his smartwatch, which he’d accidentally left at her house. You’d been beside yourself with joy and relief. “I can’t believe the time has finally come! Oh my God, I’m so happy!” you’d exclaimed, clutching Mingyu’s arm as you read out the messages. Yunji had said she was going to break up with him for good, and Mingyu, despite being half-asleep, had listened patiently to your excited ramblings, smiling softly as you kissed him goodnight. “I always knew he was a cheater. I’m just glad she’s finally aware now. Thank God you’re not like him, love.”

But now, here you were, with an entirely different expression on your face.

“It was a misunderstanding,” you muttered, the words tasting bitter as they left your mouth.

Mingyu’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean, honey?”

You let out a frustrated sigh. “The messages weren’t his. They were his brother’s. Apparently, his brother had been using the smartwatch until just yesterday, and the messages got left behind when they switched.”

Mingyu still didn’t get it. “But… they’re still breaking up, right?”

You scoffed, bitterness seeping into your tone. “I wish.”

Mingyu’s eyes widened. “No? Really? She’s staying with him?”

“And you know what she said after all of this?” You paused, glancing at your phone, as if reading her words would make them any less painful. “She said, ‘It was a misunderstanding, and I have to settle everything. Let’s not talk about this for now.’”

Mingyu blinked, sharing your expression of betrayal. “That’s it? After everything you and Dain did for her?”

You shrugged, showing him the last text you’d sent in the group chat. “I told her I’m done with this shit.” Your voice shook as you remembered the sleepless nights and the hours you’d spent worrying about her, all gone to waste. “I told her I’m here for her if she needs company, but if she wants to vent about her sad life with that shitty boyfriend, I’m out.”

Mingyu scanned the message you’d sent, his gaze softening as he looked back up at you. “You did the right thing,” he murmured, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. “I know she’s your best friend, but she really discredited you and Dain by saying that.”

“I know,” you mumbled into his neck, fighting back the urge to cry. “I didn’t lose sleep for nothing!” Your voice wavered, your exhaustion seeping through.

Mingyu chuckled softly, rubbing small circles on your back. “Let’s go to sleep, baby. You need to rest. No more thinking about them.”

You lifted your head, nodding with a resigned smile. “Right?! I don’t need to think about them. I don’t have to care anymore. Screw them both. If she needs me, I’ll be there, but I’m not wasting any more energy on this drama.”

With a soft grunt, Mingyu stood up, carefully cradling your body that still clung to his. “Alright, baby girl. Now it’s time for you to get some real rest.”

You hummed contentedly, nuzzling into his neck as he carried you to bed. “I love you…” you whispered.

Mingyu smiled, his heart swelling with warmth as he gazed down at you. “I love you more, love. Now sleep.”

With him holding you close, the weight of betrayal and heartache slowly began to melt away, leaving you cocooned in the safety and comfort of his embrace. And for the first time in days, you felt like you could finally breathe again.

[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.

[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.

[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.

[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.”

[danrifics]

15 years is a long time...

I've been lucky enough to be here for about 13 of those years and while I didn't get myself too involved in the phandom until 2019, outside of religiously watching phan proof when i was 16, Dan and Phil have been there on my screens since i was a teenager. Their videos quite literally raised me. I would sit and listen to the radio show every week and my friends and I would post about it on facebook, those post still haunt me to this day and make me feel incredibly old every time memories tell me how long ago it was.

I think today is really fitting for me to write a little personal essay on my journey and my feelings here, so i guess if you're interested then you can click the read more <3

I don't know if i fully have the words to describe properly what Dan and Phil and the Phandom mean to me, but i'll try. (I'm gonna do this in context of the last 5 years because that's when i've been most active and when I think they've impacted my life more than they ever did before.)

In 2019, I'd previously been in the Shadowhunters fandom, but as that show finished in May of that year I'd basically lost any form of fandom I had and I felt lost because fandoms are always a big part of my life and to suddenly feel like I didn't have one was hard so in June 2019 when Dan posted his coming out video everything suddenly clicked into place.

This was a community i'd loved from afar for many years and there was an opening for me to jump in. So I did. That was the best thing to ever happen to me. I'm not exaggerating, finding a place in this fandom changed my life for the better.

For the first time in my life I felt like I had friends online, from the first discord server i joined (TY LY Trashcans/ the phannie pack you'll always be famous) to Kris and Leo and to all the amazing mutuals I made, 2019 was really a cool time for me. Unfortunately a lot of these people have come and gone from my life but I often think back to what an impact they all had on me.

And then to my group now, the Rat Relaxation Chat (RRC!!!) without the hiatus ending I wouldn't be friends with any of you guys. See thats the thing, Dan and Phil didn't just bring themselves back into my life. They did something even better, brought the community back. The hiatus was hard, i've seen many of my mutuals just stop posting one day and never come back, it felt like every week we'd get smaller and smaller but then DAPG came back and so did a bunch of people and we even got some new faces and the community picked itself back up again.

As a result of that the RRC was born. For the first time in my life I was meeting my friends outside of discord, from WAD to TIT, Im literally gone end up having met all my best friends <3 (as well as so many mutuals)

I've loved so much over the last 5 years making gifs and memes and video edits and heartbreaking text posts. I'm so grateful for all the people who have ever follewed me, interacted with me, sent me hate messages, All the people who helped me make it possible for so many people to watch the WAD premiere, The people who help me with DGPdaily and the TIT blog.,The other amazing artists and gif makers and writers and archivists and anyone who has ever called themselves a phannie.

The Phandom is special, it's a community like no other. We really are a family, Dan and Phil really are our dads.

It's funny I stared this with full intentions of saying what Dan and Phil meant to me, but in the end it became all about the community they let us build. This is why I can't come up with enough words to tell them what they mean, because they mean the entire world to me because they created that world.

Dan and Phil are my friends, my best friends. They're my heros, the people I look up to most in the world because they make me feel safe and loved and I feel that love now more than I ever have before. Watching them grow older and gayer, watching the confidence grow over the years, watching them find themselves. Its a feeling like no other.

They deserve everything good in the world and i'm so glad to see them so happy and honest and open.

I don't know what the future holds for us but I know whatever it is is gonna be amazing and I hope I get to do this with you all for many more years to come.

15 years is a long time...

[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!

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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.

[pygmi-says-hi]

just wanted to pop in and say that I appreciate the tips you gave on flow. You answered what I needed and the tips are very helpful to me, thank you!

I'm a bit curious though—judging by your other posts, your writing seems so very intentional down to the very words used (I mean, as it should be) but are you typically thinking about all this stuff as you're writing down a first draft? Or do you just kind of word-vomit just to get all the story down first and then you consider all the technicalities when you're editing? I guess this has just turned into a 'what's your process' kind of question haha

oh hi anon! thanks for coming back!

this is gonna be the most disappointing answer ever because my process is all over the place. it depends on what I'm writing, the length, how invested I am in it....

if it's something academic.

I outline the most. I have so many sheets of notes and half-written papers before I even begin the actual rough draft. I write in just the sources, then all the connecting commentary, then I mix it up, I do a bulleted summary and then I start the draft.

If it's multi-chaptered.

I always like to have some kind of list or outline when I start. Just a general collection of plot points and only minor elaboration in case I get lost. That way I have something to stand on if I feel lost.

Big projects sometimes are hard on my confidence so I like to go scene by scene, chapter by chapter, and then the whole story. Knowing the ins and outs of my plot before I start improves my motivation and confidence with sentence choice.

It usually ends up being a word vomit initially, but as I write, I get warmed up and really start looking for the right stuff. I personally don't find the 'write whatever even if it's all messed up' advice to be helpful, because if I lean too hard into that it gets so messy I end up losing the plot.

It's a tricky balance for me, because if I get too caught up in the details before I even start, I get into my own head and lose the motivation because of all of the info. A loose structure is best.

if it's something short.

garbage. hot steaming garbage, honey. Just straight from the can, all over the page. I do not plan out one-shots or drabbles. Usually I was inspired based on a random song or picture and I go off vibes. After a moment I find a groove and go with it, but it is not uncommon for me to write and rewrite like a dozen times.

if it's something I have no idea how to do.

I have written plots that fizzle out halfway through before and at that point all I want is to go off grid from irritation. I've been a part of research papers and anthology collections that are perhaps the most confusing projects on the planet. and that's fine but I hate it actually. It kills the vibe so hard.

In these cases I just stick to what I know and go in baby steps. Taking huge bites to start gives me a writing tummy ache. I'll write a paragraph, edit it till it's polished, and move on.

I do editing phases.

Initially I get all of the typos and grammatical errors out of the way. this is when I use grammarly or something like that. it's so hard to even focus on the plot when glaring errors are in the way.

Then I go over sequencing. this is when I do not use editing software. AI does not know what this is supposed to sound like, I do.

** part of understanding how to write critically is knowing how to edit. I usually discourage using software for personal/creative writing because AI is a developing art and cannot understand abstract fiction. work those editing muscles!!!

anyway, that editing phase is for comprehension. does the sequence of events make sense? does it match up with the plot map and if not, is the deviation still comprehensible and interesting? This is when I move around dialogue and do most of my chunk deletion.

The last editing stage is flow and artsy stuff. Any interesting metaphors or text editing to help with the vibe; the finishing touches. I usually do this two or three times.

hope this helps!

xox

[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.

[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)_/¯