#It's so frustrating because i WISH i could!!! I want to be profound and say things that MEAN something but i Cannot ! Augh

[medicasino]

I want to share my thoughts about things all the time but i can never get the words out correctly . Pain

[santaasi]

iris

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: jj maybank struggled all his life just to finally find home in your arms

warnings: fluff, slight angst at the start, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 3.9k

a/n: bringing myself comfort after the spoilers for the final of s4. my baby boy deserved a lot more.

ᯓ★ now playing…

goo goo dolls - iris

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

IT WAS SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT — something so profound that JJ couldn't begin to describe it in words. Yet, he felt it in every cell of his body, in the deepest, most secret corners of his soul. It was as if he was staring into the vastness of the universe, into the boundless, all-consuming darkness that had terrified him since childhood. But now... now it glowed with a hundred, a million, a billion tiny stars — simple, yet magnificent clusters of light that transformed everything in an instant. You became his universe, his everything, and in that moment, everything changed.

JJ would be lying if he said he didn’t remember the exact moment — the exact second — he first met you. He remembered it vividly, like it was etched into his very bones, because that moment was his Big Bang. It was the spark that created the whole universe from nothing, with you as its center, pulling him into an orbit he never thought he’d find.

It was an ordinary day — at least, by JJ’s standards. A typical day filled with drinking, weed, hanging out with Pogues, and the all-too-familiar beatings from his father. After the last one, all he craved was solitude — just to be alone, to fade into the nothingness. To disappear. To stop feeling the weight of pain, to stop wondering what he had done wrong, to stop seeing the pity in his friends’ eyes whenever he showed up at the Chateau, bruised and broken.

For a fleeting moment, he wished he could stop being JJ Maybank — the lost, troubled boy everyone knew — and just be... himself. If only he knew who that was anymore.

It was night — a surprisingly cold summer night. The air carried a chill that seemed at odds with the warmth of the season, but even so, JJ found his haven between the soothing waves. The ocean cradled him gently, rocking him like a child in a mother’s arms, as if the water itself was trying to heal him. He lay on his stomach, his face dipping under the surface, seeking solace in the cool embrace of the sea, trying to drown out the swarm of thoughts buzzing endlessly in his mind.

How long had he been lying there? He couldn’t say. Time had blurred into the rhythm of the waves, and for a moment, he didn’t care. He didn’t expect the next moment to be so... startling.

You stopped just a few meters away, your breath coming in quick, heavy gasps. Your hair clung to your face, and the water began to bite at your skin with its coldness. And yet, in that brief flash of moonlight, JJ swore he’d never seen anything more beautiful than you — divine, even. The glow of the moon reflected off the water, casting a silver sheen over you, making everything seem surreal. Your slightly parted lips, your wide eyes, all caught in the stillness of the night, made something inside him twist. At that moment, he realized something, something terrifying: he was a goner.

"What the hell?"

The words slipped out in unison, an awkward moment of shared surprise. You raised an eyebrow, the frustration and relief mixing in your gaze before you splashed water in his face.

"Are you asking me what the hell?" you said, voice tinged with disbelief. "You were literally floating face down! I thought you were dead!"

JJ blinked, caught off guard, and shook his head, sending droplets flying in every direction. He didn’t respond immediately — his mind was still trying to catch up. He just stared at you, the way the moonlight danced on your skin, how the cold seemed to wash away everything else. There was something about you that both unsettled and comforted him, a mix he couldn’t quite place.

"Yeah, well," he muttered, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips, trying to brush it off. "I wasn’t, like, dead. I mean, not really." His voice was hoarse, raw with something he hadn’t let anyone hear in a long time. It barely masked the emptiness he’d been drowning in just moments ago. "Just needed a swim. Didn’t mean to scare you."

You crossed your arms under the water, rolling your eyes, but a soft smile played at the edges of your lips. "Just an ordinary midnight swim, huh?" you teased. But there was a knowing look in your eyes, like you could see through the mask. "I thought I was going to have to explain to the police tomorrow that some guy was found swimming in the ocean. ‘Local girl finds body in the water,’ you know? Not exactly the first week I imagined."

JJ raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "Wait... you’re new here?"

You nodded, brushing your wet hair from your face, a small sigh escaping you as you did. "Yeah, I moved here a few days ago. Needed to start fresh, I guess." Your gaze shifted toward the shore, distant, but not quite lost. "Thought the ocean might help clear my head."

He could relate to that, more than he wanted to admit. He nodded without thinking, something about you felt... different. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice almost vulnerable. "Outer Banks isn’t paradise, but... it could be worse." The words slipped out before he could stop them, softer than he wanted, like a door that had been closed for too long suddenly creaking open. He hadn’t expected to share anything, but with you, it didn’t feel like sharing — it felt more like breathing.

The wind picked up, sending a chill over the water. You shivered slightly, pulling your arms tighter around yourself. JJ noticed, instinctively stepping closer, despite still standing in the water.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern. "Cold night for a swim."

The irony of the moment wasn’t lost on him — he, too, had come to the water to escape, to disappear. But with you standing there, he didn’t feel quite as invisible. And that scared him more than he wanted to admit.

You shrugged, looking toward the shore, but your eyes softened. "Yeah, just... a tough day, I guess. I thought the water might help me forget for a little while."

A bitter laugh slipped from JJ’s lips, and he didn’t try to hide it. "Well, looks like you found the right company for that," he said, his words more raw than he’d intended. But somehow, it felt natural to talk like this, to say things he hadn’t said to anyone in a long time. With you, it didn’t feel so forced.

You turned toward him, your expression softening. There was understanding in your eyes — like you’d been there too. "Tough day too, huh?" you said quietly, your voice almost lost in the stillness of the night.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The world seemed to hold its breath, the ocean around you a calm, sacred space. In that silence, something passed between you — unspoken, but real. As if for that moment, you both shared something intangible, something neither of you could put into words.

Finally, you broke the quiet, your voice teasing but gentle. "So... are you always this mysterious, or did I just pick the perfect time to meet you?"

A laugh escaped him, more genuine than he expected. "Maybe a little of both." He let the silence stretch on, comfortable now. For the first time in ages, he felt seen, and it wasn’t as frightening as he thought it would be.

It was ridiculous, he thought — how could a complete stranger, someone he’d just met in the middle of the ocean, at some ungodly hour, feel like they were filling a space inside him he never knew was empty?

But when he looked at you, he felt something shift, something deep inside. Something real. Something alive.

"JJ," he finally said, his voice breaking the silence. The sound of his own name felt unfamiliar, like a piece of himself he hadn’t shared in too long.

You gave him a soft smile that reached your eyes, warm and knowing. "Nice to meet you, JJ."

AND THERE IT WAS — his universe had changed. The Big Bang.

After that night, JJ couldn’t think about anything but you. Your presence consumed him, yet in a way that felt like coming alive for the first time. He found himself drifting into your orbit, again and again, as if fate itself had been guiding him toward you all along. But while he believed in fate, you thought it was just chance.

It wasn’t long before JJ began to learn more about you, obsessing over every little detail. He learned that you loved spending your free time on the beach, reading books. Books that he had never bothered with before, but now he listened to them at double speed just to be able to talk to you about them. You had a habit of finding solace in the water, the way the waves seemed to ease the weight of the world from your shoulders. And he learned that you worked in a small diner on the Cut, a place that barely registered on anyone else’s radar but was now a part of his daily life.

It became his mission to visit those places. To catch your eye, exchange a few words. He even went to some Save the Turtles event with Kie — something he’d never have attended before — just to see you, just to find a reason to talk.

He didn't know why he was so drawn to you. Why waking up felt a little easier when he thought about you. Why his days felt less suffocating when he could see you by the ocean, or feel your warmth when you wrapped him up in your arms. And most importantly — why, in a world where he wanted to stay invisible, he wanted you to see him. Because no one, not even the closest people in his life, had ever truly understood him like you did.

It might have sounded corny, but JJ knew you were different. He didn’t want to undress you or get you into bed first, like he did with other girls. He wanted to talk to you. He wanted to know you. He wanted to be near you — not in a rushed, desperate way, but slowly, patiently, like the world had all the time for them. And that terrified him. Because everything in his life felt like it was bound to break, and he was scared of getting too close, only to watch it all fall apart.

But you made him feel like he was floating, like he was finally seeing the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. And even if it didn’t last forever, he would take it. It was worth it.

Because at some moment you became his safe place. His home.

JJ DIDN'T REMEMBER THE EXACT MOMENT HE FIRST CAME TO YOUR HOUSE, or why he couldn’t go back to the Chateau after the latest fight with his father. He just knew that he had found his way to you. It wasn’t a conscious choice. It was as if the universe had decided that, for once, he deserved peace. So, he climbed up to your balcony, hiding from the world, just to see you.

The moment he stepped inside, he felt the weight of everything lift from his chest. You didn't need to ask questions, you didn’t need explanations. You just held him — no judgment, no demands. Just there. Your hands gently cupped his face, and in that simple gesture, everything felt easier. It was like you knew exactly how much he needed to be held together. The comfort in your touch was so raw, so real, that it felt like he could stay there forever and nothing would ever hurt him again.

"Hey, JJ," you whispered softly as you cleaned the cuts on his knuckles. "You're okay. It's just another day. We'll get through it."

Your words were soft, but they carried a weight. The kind of weight that made him feel like, maybe, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t carrying all the burden on his own.

"Yeah, we will," he whispered looking in your eyes finding solace in it. "How'd your day go?" he asked quietly, almost as an afterthought, as you dabbed at a cut on his forehead.

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You know, the usual. Serving coffee, cleaning tables... Same old stuff. But then again, it’s a good distraction.”

And JJ realized, right then, that this wasn’t just about him. It wasn’t just about the mess of his life. It was about the way you understood him without needing to understand everything. You were healing him, piece by piece, without even knowing it.

You were there, not because you had to be, but because you wanted to be. And when you laid him down in your bed, curling up beside him, you whispered about your day at work, your own small struggles. You shared your world with him, and somehow, it made his feel a little less heavy.

IT WASN'T LONG BEFORE JJ OPENED UP TO YOU, really opened up in a way he had never done before. It was a slow burn at first. He kept his distance, guarding you from the mess that was his life. But the longer he stayed, the more he realized that you were the one who saw him. All of him — the messed-up, broken parts that he tried so hard to hide from everyone else. And when he realized you weren’t scared of that, he finally let go.

"I used to think that if I told you about my life, you'd leave," he admitted one night, his voice thick with raw emotion. "But... you didn’t. You stayed."

You looked at him, your expression tender, your hands tracing the edge of his jawline. "I'm not going anywhere, JJ. Not unless you want me to."

And that was the moment he knew — he had found someone who understood him in a way no one ever had. No one ever would.

One night, after sharing stories and secrets until the stars outside had started to fade, you both found yourselves standing close, the air thick with unspoken words. There was a nervousness between you, but also a tenderness that neither of you had known before. JJ leaned in, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was soft, hesitant, and filled with the kind of understanding that only comes when two people truly see each other. His lips were warm against yours, the moment suspended in time. And as he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he whispered softly, “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

You didn’t need to say anything in return. The truth was already in your eyes, in the way you pulled him closer, your hands tracing the lines of his back like you were memorizing him. He didn’t need forever. He didn’t need promises. He just needed this. You. Now. And that was enough.

THE EVENING WAS SETTLING INTO ITS QUIET RYTHM AT THE CHATEAU. The Pogues were scattered around, some laughing, some lost in their own thoughts, and some just lounging by the bonfire. The air smelled faintly of saltwater and smoke, the crackling warmth from the fire barely reaching the edge of the pier. The world felt suspended in a beautiful hush, as though the universe itself had exhaled, and for the briefest of moments, everything stood still.

But despite the presence of his friends, despite the fire, the laughter, and the constant noise that filled every corner of the Chateau, JJ was focused only on you. Your presence was like gravity, pulling him closer to something real, something tangible. You were his escape, his universe — shaped not by chaos and pain, but by a quiet peace he had never known until you.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked softly, lifting your head from his shoulder. Your voice was gentle, threading through the sea breeze that fluttered your hair, causing it to stray in wisps across your face. You frowned slightly as the breeze brushed against your skin, the hair teasing at your cheek in an almost playful, yet annoying way. He loved how you could get lost in these little moments, how even the simplest things seemed to pull you in.

JJ, ever the thinker, gazed out at the vast ocean, where the horizon was a delicate line between the fading light of the day and the endless mystery of the night. There was something about the sea — so unpredictable, so endless — that made him feel both small and infinite. It was like he could feel the weight of the universe pressing on his chest, but at the same time, it gave him a sense of freedom, of release.

He shook his head, not really having the words to explain the depth of his thoughts, of how you had become his entire universe in such a short time. He leaned down, brushing his lips against your forehead in a kiss that felt like a promise, like a quiet vow he was ready to keep forever.

"I love you," he said simply, the words falling so easily from his lips it startled him. It was like his heart had always known the truth, but now, with you, it could finally speak it. He turned to face you, his hands gently cupping your face, and pushed a strand of hair back behind your ear. Your hair had tangled slightly in the breeze, and his fingers brushed against the soft strands as if trying to keep you grounded in this moment.

You smiled up at him, your eyes warm with affection, and for a brief second, JJ wondered if he had been imagining all of this — the way your touch made him feel alive, how your laugh filled him with a joy that felt as though he was living in a dream. He had never been one to express his feelings out loud, never been able to put his heart on the line like that. But with you, everything felt different. Everything felt right.

"I love you, too," you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips, but JJ felt the weight of them — felt how real they were, how they shifted the space between you, making it smaller, warmer, more intimate. It was like the universe had shifted in that moment, like the stars aligned just for the two of you.

But you, ever the one to keep things light, laughed softly, breaking the moment in the most perfect way. Your laugh rang out like music, a melody he couldn’t get enough of. "But everyone knows that, stupid! It’s no secret that you’re head over heels in love with me," you teased, brushing his hair out of his eyes, as if trying to bring him back down from whatever cosmic place his mind had drifted to.

JJ chuckled, the sound deep and sincere. There was no pretense, no walls. Just the two of you, surrounded by the night and the ocean, and for the first time, he felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. His smile was soft but real, and he kissed you once, gently, on the tip of your nose, then moved to the corner of your lips, then your cheek, your forehead, each kiss like a reassurance that this moment, this feeling, was real.

"You don't get it, do you?" JJ murmured, his voice a little more serious than the moment required. He let the silence stretch between you before continuing. "It’s not just... about love, doll. It’s about everything. It’s the way you make me see the world in a way I never thought I would. The way you make me feel like... like I’m enough." His voice softened with a vulnerability he hadn’t known he could express. "Before you, everything was just a blur. I didn’t even know how to be, to feel. But with you? It’s different. You make me real, love."

You looked at him, your gaze tender, understanding. Your eyes softened, and without a word, you reached out and pulled him in for a tight hug. JJ rested his head against your shoulder, inhaling the soft scent of your skin, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop spinning. It was just the two of you, and for the first time in a long time, JJ felt truly alive.

He had spent so many years running from everything that hurt him, pushing away anything that could cause him pain. But in that moment, wrapped in your embrace, the fear was gone. There was nothing left but the two of you, standing on the edge of the world, with the ocean stretching out before you like an endless promise.

"I never thought I’d say it," he whispered, his words coming out in a quiet rush. "But you’re my Big Bang. The thing that changed everything for me. Before you, it felt like I was drifting through the void, like there was nothing in this world worth holding on to. But now..." He pulled away slightly, looking at you with a newfound intensity. "Now, you’re my everything. You gave me a reason to stay."

Your fingers lightly brushed against his cheek, the touch so gentle it felt like a feather. You looked at him, eyes searching his face, and you smiled softly. "You don't have to be alone anymore, JJ. You’ve never been alone." Your voice was quiet, but the sincerity behind it struck him like a bolt of lightning. "We're in this together."

A small laugh escaped him, a sound that felt almost foreign but so freeing. The way you made him feel — like he was seen, understood, held — it was beyond anything he could have imagined. You were the gravity in his universe, pulling him in, holding him steady. And no matter how far out he drifted, he always knew he'd find his way back to you.

"You make me feel like the world is full of stars," he murmured, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. "Like everything that’s ever happened to me — good or bad — led me to you. Like I was just waiting for you to come and show me what it’s like to be."

You grinned, a playful glint in your eyes. "Well, don't get too carried away, Maybank. I’m not that amazing."

JJ smiled, but there was something raw in his expression, something that hinted at all the things he could never quite put into words. "You are," he said softly. "You are my everything. And for once, I’m not afraid to let myself feel it."

The world stretched out before you, both of you standing at the precipice of something so beautiful, so uncertain, yet so undeniable. The stars above shimmered like tiny promises, like constellations forming their own quiet narrative about two souls finding each other in the vast, infinite expanse of the universe. And in that moment, the ocean, the stars, the wind, and the night itself seemed to pause, holding its breath.

"I love you. So much," JJ whispered again, his voice filled with the certainty that had settled deep within him. It was simple, but it was everything. The words echoed, not just through the air, but through his heart, through his bones, reverberating in a way he never thought was possible. And as the night embraced them both, they realized that they had found their place in the world. Together.

And for the first time, JJ Maybank wasn’t afraid to be seen. Because you saw him. And that was enough

thankx for reading <3

so, that’s it. jj maybank deserved the whole world but only got this shitty ending. am i gonna watch obx4 now? probably not. am i gonna write for jj like there’s no s4? definitely yes! i think we’ll all agree that obx ended on s3 and after that nothing happened.

but every time i see the posts about jj i feel so sad… like it literally hurts on some level because he deserved his happy ending more than anyone. even if rudy wanted to leave the show they could have written a good ending for him. not one more fucked up father, but one that would take him to see the world or shit like this. i just wanted him to be happy.

i chose iris because this is so jj coded for me. i haven’t listened to this song in ages and when it popped up in my shuffle yesterday – i just wanted it to be about jj. with all his struggles, all his pain, but also with a hope for something good. so, i rly hope that you liked this work.

and again thank u for reading. thank u for liking, reblogging and commenting - it’s rly means a lot to me. you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

masterlist

[dontcallpanic]

I was tagged by the unbelievably incredible @patolemus to do a not-wednesday WIP. And it's wednesday! So have a not-wednesday wednesday WIP!

Because you are the queen of breaking and filling my heart with your beautiful writing I wanted to share something deep and meaningful and profound. But I can only write goofy situational humour. So have this from the small strange town au WIP instead!

____________

Stiles only makes it about ten paces down the street before he hears the bang of a door and angry sounding footsteps. He’s not even sure how footsteps can sound angry but somehow they do. He doesn’t turn around because hey, not everything is about him and in this case, he really hopes it’s not about him. Besides he only knows Alison in this town and he may not know her well, but he knows her well enough to know she doesn’t stomp.

Then someone shouts his name.

Again? Seriously? How can this many people want to talk to him, he’s barely been here a day!

He turns around slowly, exercising a healthy amount of trepidation, wondering what the hell is going to happen now. His worries aren’t at all assuaged when he sees Cora of all people, stalking towards him with a perpetual scowl drawn across her face.

Stiles tries his hardest, he really does, but he can’t help taking a reflexive step back in the face of such unwarranted aggression. He does however, manage not to raise his hands in surrender as she walks right up to him and thrusts a paper bag into his chest.

“Here,” she says baring her teeth at him in what Stiles thinks is supposed to be a smile. Or an intimidation tactic.

It’s definitely an intimidation tactic.

“Wha – what the. What?” Stiles says eloquently, flinching bodily as if she has just handed him a live racoon. “What is it?”

Cora rolls her eyes.

“It’s food?” She says. The dumbass is implied.

Stiles blinks and stares suspiciously at the paper bundle. “Why is it?”

Cora rolls her eyes again and Stiles watches in awe as the corner of her mouth actually curves up in a sneer. He wishes his own sneer was that effective. This one could wither a man’s testicles at 50 paces. 10/10. Very effective. He swallows hard.

“Laura called,” Cora snaps. “She said you probably hadn’t eaten today and I had to give you food if you showed up – or whatever.”

She literally looks like she is too cool to be having this conversation with him and Stiles can’t help but feel like he’s the one who inconvenienced her, even when she was the one who chased him down. He quite literally, does not know how to feel about any of this.

“I uh. Wow. Um Thanks? That’s… nice?”

“Yeah, calm down. It’s just yesterday’s leftovers.” She turns to walk away before she abruptly spins back around and pokes a very threatening finger towards his chest.

“And stay out of the woods.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Wh - why should I stay out of the woods? What's in the woods? What do you know about the woods?”

Cora literally growls in frustration and throws her hands up in the air.

“Or don’t – whatever. I don’t care. But don’t say I didn’t warn you, okay!”

And with that she spins around and stomps back into the coffee shop leaving Stiles gaping after her.

“Ohmygod, this town is weird,” Stiles mutters to himself, shaking his head and throwing an arm up in exasperation or despair – even he’s not sure at this point.

“Don’t worry dearie,” says a little old lady, awkwardly patting his elbow as she shuffles past. “She’s like that with everyone.”

“Oh. Great – thanks!” Stiles calls after the lady’s retreating back. “That makes me feel… so much better,” he trails off, the usual sarcasm falling a little flat but he supposes that’s only to be expected after receiving both threats and lunch in the same conversation.

Unfortunately, for Cora at least, she needn’t have bothered. All Stiles heard is ‘there’s definitely something going on in the woods. You really need to check this out.’ And let’s face it anyway, who really hears ‘don’t go into the woods’ and thinks ‘huh. That’s not suspicious at all. There’s definitely nothing there and I’d better not look.’

People just love to be dramatic.

______________

I always feel awkward tagging people in these because I'm extremly conscious of how incredibly well all the amazing people I could tag can write (and that they might have to read this if I tag them!) and I also don't want to bother anyone! But there's so many people I'd love to read snippets from sooo no pressure tags include:

@gege-wondering-around @hellameyers @oldefashioned (just if you want to share at any point when you're back <3) @patolemus (again if you wanna share anything else now or in the future!)

And anyone else who wants to - feel free to tag me too!

I have been obsessed with what everyone has been sharing recently! There have been SO MANY amazing words I can barely cope!!

[midlandslady]

Writers and audience impact

I hate hate hate when the writers/ producers/ directors wait for the audience's reaction to see if they should push a pairing in or not.

Like wtf? By the time they get our reaction, we have already been fed a story. And some of us will have loved it and others hated it but it was the story they created. Changing the pairing later based on the fandoms is so f* stupid.

I have stopped watching countless of tv shows because of this.

Examples: Vampire diaries. I really liked it at that time of my life. And I liked Stefan and Elena. They were a bit too lovey-dovey and boring? Yes, but I liked them. The story was about them. The books too. But because Damon was more handsome and sexier and had, according to the audience, better chemistry with Elena, they decided to give what the audience preferred, going against the original book.

The 100 is an odd example. Everyone loved Bellamy and Clarke, they are also the romantic pairing in the book. But the tv show created such a deep profound connection between them that was better than the book. It was an enemies-to-lovers trope developed to perfection. But what did they do? They destroyed it in what seems to be a clear defiance of what the public loved and the book. It made no sense at all. I stopped watching when I realized it was going in that direction and decided to wait for the finale. And I'm so glad I did. Horrible thing. I hate even the memory of having loved it.

Another example. Never have I ever. Yes, Paxton was the hot boy that we should begin to hate at some point in a very cliché fashion. And Ben is the rival that will become a friend and then a lover. All good. But then they developed Paxton and Paxton was ten thousand times better than Ben. And by the end of season 1 and particularly season 2, I was sure Team Paxton had won. But I was wrong. There comes the shift. For 2 seasons I loved Devi and Paxton but then all that development and fairytale-like ending is put into the garbage and I am supposed to pretend it never happened because now the main pairing is Ben and Devi. I did not watch season 3 and season 4. To me, it ended in season 2 and what an amazing ending it was.

So yes, I was afraid that House of the Dragon would be the same. They created a story between Daemon and Rhaenyra in season 2 that was special and magical in a very hauntingly gothic fashion. It was perfection, the chemistry, the between-the-lines feelings, the desire, the attraction, the frustration. My god, we could feel it all. And every episode was so exciting because of that. People loved it, not everyone, but most people loved it. People were in love with Daemyra and with Daemon and with Matt Smith. There were hundreds of videos on youtube, pages on the internet talking about it, it was everywhere. It couldn't have been more successful. But the writers somehow, despite creating such a beautiful thing, were surprised that the public loved it so much. So they came out saying: you're seeing it wrong. Daemon is mean, evil, selfish and cruel and you need to see that. So they create a season 2 to make us hate daemon, to make us fall out of love with Daemyra. Yet they were fearful of pushing it too far so they still gave us a happy ending to keep us satisfied. But are they waiting to see if we have given up on Daemyra and would be more open to other pairings that they wish to introduce? I want to believe they won't do it, but do I trust it 100%? Of course not. Similarly, they are giving contrary information about Helaemond to see how we react and if they can push it or move away from it in season 3. I also think they didn't make Rhaena claim sheepstealer to see how fans would react to the potential elimination of Nettles. And I hate that they do it! Just be consistent, for god's sake! Write the damn story as you did before knowing how the public would react but be consistent with what you started.

[strnsvt]

joshua hong — unwritten constellations: love beyond royalty.

joshua leaned casually against the polished car, a gentle smile gracing his features as you stormed out of the grand doors, your eyes flashing with frustration, "take me far away from this royal chaos," he nodded silently, opening the car door for you.

the car sped through the winding city streets as joshua glanced at you. a subtle smile played on his lips as you stared out of the window, letting a tear roll down your cheek which didn't go unnoticed by joshua.

wordlessly — he reached into the compartment, giving you a delicate handkerchief, knowing not to speak unless spoken to.

"i hate this, joshua," you say, dabbing away the tear. joshua's gaze remained steady on the road ahead, "i understand, princess," he replied in a soothing tone.

"don't call me that," you sniffled.

despite your plea, joshua couldn't help but push back with a teasing tone, "alright, princess. even in the chaos, there's a certain elegance to your rebellion."

"stop calling— oh my god," more tears streamed down your face and joshua only chuckles.

"so, where are we headed, princess?"

"..."

"where are we headed, y/n?" joshua asked again, the anticipation hanging in the air.

you sighed, gazing out the window at the passing city lights. "i don't know, joshua. just drive,"

"won't your parents—"

"no. don't talk about them,"

"i might get fired if—"

"just drive," you interrupt, refusing to let him finish his sentences, "for an hour or two or three,"

"a three-hour long drive. noted," joshua says, adjusting the rearview mirror. "but before that, we have to visit the gas station," you simply hum.

the car pulled into a dimly lit gas station, the soft glow of fluorescent lights casting an otherworldly ambiance. joshua parked — as you both stepped out into the crisp night air.

as he began refueling the car, you leaned against the side, deep in thought. "it's strange, finding sanctuary in a place like this,"

joshua chuckled, his hands still busy with the pump. "sometimes, unexpected stops lead to unexpected revelations,"

you glanced around at the flickering neon signs and the distant hum of the highway. "i never imagined a gas station could be a refuge,"

he finished refueling and joined you, a playful glint in his eyes. "life is full of surprises. now, shall we continue our journey into the unknown?"

"..."

"princess?"

"joshua, my parents...they've already started arranging suitors for my marriage," you admitted, the weight of their expectations heavy in your voice.

a subtle change crossed joshua's expression, a fleeting emotion surfacing in his eyes when the topic of suitors arose, "oh," is all he exhaled out.

"joshua?"

"yes?"

"...lets go?"

he simply nods, with a shared understanding hanging in the air, you both climbed back into the car, leaving the gas station's ethereal glow behind. the engine hummed to life as joshua merged onto the open road, the city lights fading into the distance.

"three hours of silent drive. am i right, princess?"

you turn your head to look at him, "no, not silent,"

"do you wish to play some music then?"

"no. i want to talk to you. and i want you to talk to me. like a friend. we're hardly two years apart, joshua,"

"im afraid, i can't do that," he says, changing the gear.

"why not?" you asked, the quiet urgency in your voice breaking the serene atmosphere.

"because, y/n, every stolen glance, every shared silence, they echo with something more profound. i can't simply be a friend when my heart whispers a different story,"

"...what do you mean?"

joshua simply takes your hand in his, holding it so delicately, his lips brushing against your skin in a tender kiss.

joshua, sensing the need for a moment of solitude, steers the car toward a isolated place.

"why here, joshua?"

"because, i need to do this," he replied, undoing the seatbelt and leaning towards you. in that secluded haven, he captured your lips with his in a chaste kiss, a gentle exchange of emotions that spoke louder than words.

the night enveloped you both in its quiet embrace, the car now parked in solitude. joshua's kiss lingered, a silent promise between the flickering stars above.

"unexpected turns," he murmured, his voice a soft echo in the stillness. you met his gaze, finding solace in the unspoken connection.

"what now, joshua?" you whispered, the vulnerability in your words hanging in the air, "what about the suitors?"

"let them chase shadows," he replied, intertwining his fingers with yours. "our story, princess, is written in the stars, not in the scripts they pen."

and so, the road unfolded, weaving a narrative of love, rebellion, and the quiet strength found in the spaces between whispered confessions and stolen kisses.

[thrawns-babygirl]

Hello there lovely, is there any chance that you could write something - anything really idc if it's a drabble, hc or oneshot- involving tatted Crosshair and his send nudes tattoo?

No pressure of course. love your stuff and keep it up^^

have a nice day <3

This was only meant to be a drabble but I got carried away.

And yes I know this fic starts off almost identically to one of my other fics (I think it was one of the follower celebration ones) but for this specific fic I needed to reuse an old trope dont @ me please I've had writers block （；¬＿¬)

This is also another one of my classic medic!reader fics because I wanted it to be gender neutral and doc is the easiest gender neutral nickname I can come up with.

I am not a creative person lmao.

anywho, this is based off of @cloned-eyes absolutely sinful art, which is honestly some of my favorite Crosshair art of all time.

Rating: E (18+) Warnings: Sexting (I think that's it lmao) Words: 2200+

Been a while since ive written anything this long so i hope my writing is still up to snuff

Masterlist

Where could he be? Where on this maker forsaken facility could he possibly be? You storm through the halls of Kamino looking for Wrecker, the errant clone needing to come and see you for updates to his immunisations before he or the rest of clone force 99 are allowed back out into the field.

It’s not surprising that he’s avoiding you, out of all of them, Wrecker is by far the worst with needles. The man can’t stand them, avoids you like the plague when he knows that it’s time to keep his vaccinations up to date and for what its worth you can’t really blame him. No one enjoys needles.

You huff and place your hands on your hips as you think about where the lovable giant could possibly be. You’ve already checked the mess, the armoury, the Marauder and the training centres with zero sign of him. When you got to the marauder Tech just gave you that look that says, “I understand you need to find him but I’m not going to rat him out” and while you often applaud clones for their loyalty to one another, when it stops you from doing your job it makes you want to rip your own hair out in frustration.

You make your way over towards their barracks, hoping and praying to whatever deities that will listen that you’ll find him and be able to get on with the rest of your job. You take a deep breath, standing out the front of their doors, before keying in your medical override and stepping inside.

You don’t find wrecker, and you wish you had knocked.

Standing in front of you is Crosshair, in just a towel, dark lines of ink on full display over his tanned body. You’ve never actually seen him without his shirt on before, never needed to. The sniper usually manages to stay out of trouble and doesn’t need any assistance when the boys return to Kamino so you had no idea he was covered in tattoos.  

You run your eyes over his chest, taking in all the impressive art that litters his toned form. The silhouette of his beloved 773 Firepuncher that stretches along his chest, the artfully done letters of aurebesh that stretch above his stomach, the other smaller words and phrases that extend down his hips, tantalizingly low, slightly obscured by the fabric of the towel that’s gripped in his left hand.

You run your eyes up his arm towards his face, knowing that he’s going to be wearing that sickeningly infuriating smirk of his and wanting to avoid the cliché “Like what you see?” you know he’s going to drawl at you like you’re in some terrible holodrama.

As you brace yourself to face him, your eyes catch on a single phrase tattooed on his left arm, slightly more patchy and faded than his other ink as if it were the result of a drunken night out in some shady tattoo parlour in the Uscru District of Coruscant. Two simple words that have a profound effect on your physiology causing even more heat to rush to your face, deepening the blush that you know is already far too pronounced on your cheeks and ears.

“Send Nudes”

You finally have the courage to snap your eyes up to his and just as you expected you’re greeted by his frustratingly handsome smirk, his eyes boring into yours, as if he’s waiting for you to say something, as if this is going to be the final nail in the coffin for your poorly hidden mutual attraction to one another that’s been simmering the last few cycles that’s threatening to reach boiling point as you maintain eye contact.

You lamely open and close your mouth trying to find something to say to the barely covered man in front of you before he decides to end your suffering, breaking the silence with the just as cliché “See something you like doc?” he raises an eyebrow at you before walking over towards his bunk, reaching into a pouch on his discarded armour and producing a toothpick, slipping it between his lips as he looks you up and down.

“I um-” you finally look away from him, suddenly finding the old training posters above his bed intensely interesting trying to figure out what to say to him as if you weren’t just ogling his naked chest and arms for an unprofessionally long amount of time.

You clear your throat “I was just looking for Wrecker… he needs his shots” your eyes dart around the room, avoiding his smug, self-satisfied face for as long as humanly possible.

You cringe at how your voice falters, yours and Crosshair’s interactions are always a battle of wits and snark, constantly trying to one up each other as the rest of the batch endeavour to ignore your vague attempts at flirting with one another. Both of you trying your best to goad the other into making the first move, dancing around the invisible line you’ve both drawn in the sand but never crossed.

From the corner of your eye, you see him walk towards you, you see his arm adjusting the towel around his hips and your eyes are drawn to that stupid tattoo on his arm again, the one that makes you want to throw professionalism out the window and jump his bones regardless of any regulations or rules that would get in the way and muddy the waters.

“Wrecker’s not here” his voice has dropped an octave, as if getting you alone in his room has made him realise that there is nothing physical stopping the two of you from muddying the waters of your relationship and taking that final step. You swallow the saliva that’s started pooling in your mouth, attempting to remind yourself that you’re on duty, you’re in the barracks, any one of the rest of his squad could walk through those doors at any moment an interrupt whatever lewd and improper things you both want to do to one another.

While you were wrestling with your own thoughts and feelings you miss how close he’s managed to get to you, his silent footsteps bringing him directly in front of you and you stare up at him. Has he always been this tall? You lock eyes with him, neither of you saying anything as you just stare at one another, each of you silently willing the other to close the distance between the two of you and take the leap.

He begins moving his face closer to yours, his warm breath brushing over your face, it smells minty you vaguely register as you move your face closer to his, closing your eyes and the distance between the two of you when suddenly you hear loud, boisterous laughter approaching from the other side of the door.

You curse under your breath. Despite this being the whole reason you’re in the barracks to begin with, you would give anything for a few more moments alone with Crosshair. Both of you pull away from one another, Crosshair grabbing a spare change of blacks and walking back into the refresher before the door to the barracks opens and you see the wayward clone himself stare at you with wide eyes. He knows he’s got nowhere to run now as you fix him with a glare that one would assume is because of the amount of time and effort you put into finding him and not because of the fact he just interrupted… whatever was about to happen between you and Crosshair.

You walk out of the barracks with Wrecker in tow, attempting to push whatever it was that was happening with Crosshair to the back of your mind, at least for now.

After another few hours on duty, you finally return to your quarters, sore exhausted and replaying the interaction you had with Crosshair over and over again in your mind. No matter how you try to distract yourself, whenever you close your eyes, you see the dark lines of ink that cover his sculpted body. Does he have more tattoos? Do the go lower? You mind is reeling, and you can’t focus on anything else, you can’t even sleep all you can think about is stupid Crosshair with his stupid tattoos and that stupid send nudes tattoo he has on his stupid arm.

You sigh, picking up your datapad in a vague attempt at tricking your brain into doing something productive when you get an idea. Arguably a terrible and stupid idea that could have a negative affect on your career but… an idea, nonetheless. Sighing and shaking your head you throw your datapad down onto your bed as you stand up to take a shower.

No… this is a terrible idea.

You undress and stare at yourself in the mirror. Maybe… its not a terrible idea? Your mind keeps going back to his tattoos and you decide to throw caution to the wind. Walking back into your bedroom you snatch up your datapad and open an encoded chat with Crosshair’s personal frequency double and triple checking the recipient to make sure what you’re about to do doesn’t end up in the wrong hands before steeling your nerves and standing in front of the mirror. The lighting isn’t the most flattering but you don’t let yourself dwell on that for too long before you strike what you hope is an appealing pose and taking a series of pictures, attempting to highlight your assets.

You flick through the pictures selecting the ones you think are the most flattering and before you have a chance to second guess yourself you send them through to Crosshair with the caption “As instructed”.

You wait for a moment, encrypted chats don’t have notifications for when the recipient has seen the messages so you wait with baited breath for a response. When one doesn’t come immediately you throw your datapad down onto your bed and run your hand through your hair, deciding that maybe he’s just not looking at his datapad right now you finally take your shower, attempting to wash away your nerves and embarrassment, pushing your fear of rejection out of your head as you let the warm spray wash over you.

When you exit the shower and towel yourself off you look at your datapad and see a reply from Crosshair. Your breath catches in your throat as you move to open the message and see that it comes with an attachment.

Holding your breath, you open the attachment only to be greeted by a picture of Crosshair, standing in the refresher in his barracks, wearing only a pair of loose fitting black pants that are pulled down to his thighs revealing what can only be described as the nicest cock you have ever seen. You’ve never thought that cocks were attractive before, but somehow he’s managed to change your mind. It’s long and thick and the way his slender fingers wrap around his girth makes your mouth water.

After spending far too much time searing the sight of it into your memory you read the text that he sent along with the photo just one simple word; “More”.

You dive into bed, datapad in one hand, legs spread however before you get a chance to take and pictures you receive another message from Crosshair, this time there is no text, only a video. You open it and press play.

You watch in pure delight as the recording of Crosshair’s hand moves over his hard, weeping length, his fingers tightening as he gets to the tip creating more pressure around the head. Small sighs and choked breaths can be heard from the audio as his hand works his cock and just as the video ends you swear you hear a whisper of your name.

You scramble to return the favour, attempting to capture the best possible angle as you manoeuvre one hand down between your legs to begin working yourself over. You have the luxury of not needing to share your living space with anyone, so you put on a bit of a show, moaning and whimpering and gasping his name as you touch yourself and push yourself over the edge with a final long moan of his name. Your chest rising and falling as you hit send before you can change your mind or second guess yourself.

Not long after that you receive the final video of the night, your mouth waters and you can feel heat rushing down south again as you watch Crosshair vigorously stroking his cock, muffled gasps and groans coming from his end as he works himself, the head of his cock is so red it’s almost purple and you can see beads of precum leaking out of the tip and running onto his hands as he brings himself closer and closer to the edge. You watch as he bites his lip, face contorting in pleasure as the lines of ink on his skin move with the rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to stay quiet.

He screws his eyes shut and bites his lip so hard you think you see him break the skin, as he stifles a moan of your name, spilling ropes of cum over himself, his hand and his chest, panting before the video ends.

You get one other message from him on the encrypted channel.

>Might need to see you in medbay tomorrow for a busted lip

@where-is-my-mind-tho@antishadow2021 @healingskywalker @crosshairlovebot@ilovestarwarsmen725@vincentferard

[zalrb]

OTH Rewatch Review 3x07

IIIIIII DON'T WANNA BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN WHAT I'VE BEEN TRYNA BE LATELYYYYYYYYY

Jesus Christ

So, like, here's the thing about this fucking Inception dream sequence. What is happening? Is Nathan dreaming about Haley making out with Brooke after waking up from a nightmare about Lucas and Chris in bed together after Lucas woke up from dreaming about being in bed with Brooke? Because it's a dream within within a dream. I don't know what your subconscious is like Nathan.

Nathan's grin. I mean, technically you've slept with both of them. AND HALEY'S SISTER.

"What is she doing talking to that troll?" "By troll do you mean Peyton?" Oh, Haley. How I love you sometimes.

Because Peyton fucking SUCKS.

"I'm over possessive-best-friends-with-weird-lesbian energy. And Haley!" That was actually a good delivery but if anyone has the lesbian energy here, it's Brooke and Rachel.

"Well, at least somebody wanted me." Oh, preteen Zal was SO frustrated with this ENTIRE storyline.

"HALEY, YOUR BOYFRIENDS ARE HERE." lol.

"You look so..." "Overdressed." Good delivery. But also Haley, my girl, the SUN is out, why are you wearing a little black dress?

I mean "little black dress" this is still OTH.

They really felt uncomfortable in the clothes they had to wear??

This is so dumb, she's clearly going out with Nathan and Haley too, Lucas.

YOU ALL HAVE CELL PHONES. CALL HER.

Ugh, Skills.

"I've been on kinky dates before..." with who? I guess s1 Nathan would've done something weird.

Remember how s1 Nathan was like a legit emotionally, verbally abusive villain?

"Let's spring [the senior in the nursing home]! It's just a couple of hours, what harm could it do?" If this was a dark comedy, he'd die.

Chris tipping a random woman on the beach and slapping her ass is just ... ugh. She should've slapped him. Alas, Mark Schwahn.

Haley having a quiet but profound breakdown. Brooke, "It's OK. Let's just go to the mall." And she is being helpful and it is very sweet but that's also hilarious. Uhhh, sorry that your wedding spot is being destroyed, let's just go to the mall instead. You know? Nothing profoundly sad happens at the mall.

"I can't believe she's doing this." IT WAS A GROUP DATE, LUCAS.

"This guy has caused a lot of trouble, Brooke knows that." Lucas, the people that he caused trouble between WERE WITH HER GETTING INTO THE CAR. YOU SAW THEM.

I swear to god Lucas, I would hit you. SHUT UP.

24. Braley are such better friends than Breyton.

25. I REALLY wish we got more Nathan and Brooke scenes because they had a really fun chemistry together and I liked that they were both being courted by Haley and Lucas and they could both understand where the other was coming from

26. Haley's laugh at Chris saying "Maybe he's afraid of me" is hilarious because she stops and continues. But Chris shutting her up with "Maybe he doesn't care anymore" was mean but well-played.

27. It's funny how Chris Keller is a better Damon than Damon. Because he's not a good actor but he doesn't overplay it.

28. Aww, jealous Nathan

29. James Lafferty's shoulders are quite broad this episode.

30. Nathan is vulnerable and you were practically giving the enemy a LAP DANCE. I mean she wasn't Brooke but the exaggeration is very Brooke and also very high school. I remember in high school we were at a school dance and this girl's boyfriend was getting jumped outside while she was dancing with another guy and all of us girls were like WHAT THE FUCK??? [INSERT NAME] IS GETTING JUMPED AND YOU WERE BASICALLY HAVING SEX ON THE DANCE FLOOR! What did we expect her to do? Get jumped with him?? Teenagers.

31. "I didn't do anything!" "Except for kiss Chris and run away with him?" I mean, she's got a point Haley. "What about you messing with Lucas and hiding all those letters you wrote to him under your bed?" I mean, she's got a point Brooke.

32. "I know this is where we made love in the rain." I mean, it wasn't ON the balcony though. It should've been.

33. "I still feel our past just like you do" well especially considering that you were the one who was left.

34. Rachel calling Lucas gay because he's CLEARLY into Brooke and is like please stop getting naked around me because I LOVE BROOKE is hilarious because what?

35. Chris also getting Brooke more and more drunk so they can have sex is incredibly gross.

36. "All of the celebrity..." she had ONE original song and was doing covers and opening for actual celebrities? WHAT ARE WE TALKING ABOUT HERE?

37. We could also talk about the fact that Nathan was the one who encouraged her to sing in front of people etc. etc. and she wouldn't have been a "star" without him in her life at all.

38. Mouth's reveal that Mel is his grandfather is ... OK? I know this is supposed to push Peyton to Ellie but meh.

39. "SHE NOTEBOOKED YOU?" "I totally Notebooked him" lmao these references.

40. Nathan keeping a flower from the beach is Lucas keeping a feather from Brooke's wings.

41. *SIGH* Brooke and Chris. What, it takes like two more episodes for them to be together?

42. I also absolutely do not believe that Brooke wouldn't have kicked Chris out of the house right after sleeping with him. She'd be disgusted.

[lexsnotdead]

Sometimes i forget that Delilah/Breanna aren't 100% canon to everyone bc of "ambiguous relationship" part and some people not wanting to see them as bi & lesbian

And it drives me insane

Everytime i see fic where Delilah or Breanna call each other friends while being alone (or in their own thoughts) I want to bite 😭😭 Something or someone

I sit here and think "Breanna sacrificing 10+ years or her life to save Delilah from her death AND falling on her knees for her is so friendly fr"

I'm okay with people who think that they're way too toxic or something/"Delilah can't love" but Breanna is a walking fruit basket. She radiates "gay".

~~~~~~~~

Sorry for whole essay about Bree and Del but my anonymous ass trusts that you'd understand me at least to some degree bc you ship them

Hope ur doing well, sending best wishes for the week lol

HI ANON YOU CANNOT IMAGINE THE AMOUNT OF SEARCHING I DID FOR THIS. anyway. okay... deep breath... yeah, i know, it drives me insane as well. although i haven't come across a Hot Take like that in ages, most likely because i was blocking on sight for this. "not 100% canon to everyone" have we played the same game? maybe it's easy for me to say because i myself am a wlw and i KNOW yuri when i see one. it is really hard for me to imagine how can one look at the way breanna and delilah talk to each other and fail to spot the profound pinning.

• delilah saying "murderer! you can't understand what she meant to me", when you kill breanna in front of her.

• delilah saying "you're the only one i trust".

• delilah swinging her sword at you with "this is for what you did to breanna", in the last mission.

• a with in the royal conservatory saying "breanna was with delilah when you were sucking on your mother's tit. it's not a joke to them"

• breanna's surprise when she spots corvo "a man? here?!" is truly a Peak Lesbian Moment. - i could go on and on.

OHHH AND THE LETTER. THE LETTER!! it makes me lose my mind every time i read it!! whatever breanna had going on in there is more lesbian than eating pussy.

"When we can't talk, I write. There are things only you will understand. (...) If we were together, I could say more! It is as if I can see beyond the air, into another time or place. (...) Oh, Delilah, strange and beautiful whispers are carried on the breeze. I am forever grateful of being your instrument." >>> i'm madly in love with you.

how can you read this and go hmm yeah they were definitely besties! MUST EVERYTHING BE DIRECT FOR YOU PEOPLE?? sorry to disappoint, but that's not how sapphics express attraction. learn to read between the lines. because this, too, is yuri.

and the wiki page is to blame for the "ambiguous" part. BECAUSE HARVEY SMITH DIDN'T SAY "AMBIGUOUS". HE DID NOT. harvey confirmed their relationship some time back in 2016, but since then he deleted all of his tweets and we were left with no elaboration. and as for now it is almost impossible to find sources. "almost". he-he. wink. i saved that from a tumblr post god knows how long ago and couldn't find the op. if anyone knows who to credit for this, i'd be grateful.

does "i totally assumed that" equal uncertainty? maybe my non-native ass is missing something, but it all seems very clear to me.

which makes "some people not wanting to see them as bi & lesbian" part even more frustrating. they are both indisputably queer! and that being stated by the dev and not in the game itself is not an excuse to deny their sexuality and ship breanna with men.

harvey's tweet and in-game lines combined should be enough evidence to prove that delilah and breanna were, in fact, lovers, and if anyone says otherwise, it's a conscious choice to deny/ignore it for whatever reasons, not because there isn't enough evidence for their relationship. believe me, anon, i share every drop of irritation you have in double.

and "delilah can't love" is another very big topic where i could talk for hours and i would rather not make this reply any longer than it has to be. i already ranted quite a lot here haha. anyway, ty for the ask! :] i'm always happy to write mini-essays about delilah and breanna. i hope you have a great day as well!!

[leojurand]

i see people on booktwt praising the radiant emperor duology very often and every time, instead of remembering that i actually had fun reading those books, i think about how flawed they are, and i wish i could understand the endless praise they get. but i sadly do not.

and then i remembered a tweet by shelley parker-chan about dunnett and her novels that actually explains, in a way, why their writing doesn't work for me. the tweet was a reply to someone and it was:

but Dunnett in general never feeds me the (emotional) food and I get frustrated. like bitch these power plays are so good but why don’t you make it JUICY. don’t make me have to use my imagination

it's actually very funny how this explains exactly the problems i have with their duology. clearly, dunnett is a big fan of subtlety. also very clear, SPC is not, and doesn't utilize it much (at all) in their novels.

and the complete lack of subtlety is something that really bothered me in the radiant emperor duology. that, hand in hand with the endless repetition, makes sure you don't have to use your imagination when it comes to the characters. ever. you will be told how they feel about each other and about what's happening and about what they've done and will do. constantly

but that, for me at least, doesn't make you connect with those characters more, and it doesn't make them more complex (in fact, sometimes they feel like two emotions in a trenchcoat lol). of course too little emotional food can leave you hungry, but too much can cause indigestion

the thing is, i don't need dunnett to tell me that, for example, nicholas was battling with the pain of gelis's betrayal and the profound grief of the loss of his closest friend post-SoG. i know he's dealing with those feelings, i'm seeing it, because he fucked off to be a menace in scotland and he's wearing all black and he's kidnapping people to torment them for a while (lol). and that's so much more interesting than writing paragraph after paragraph of his emotional breakdown. because, yes, i can use my imagination. i like doing that!

would the lymond chronicles be better if we got descriptions of how lymond is drowning in pain and self-hatred during basically every chapter in RC or CM? it's obvious that that's what's happening to him. i think it would actually make the books and the character worse, because doing that doesn't fit who lymond is, just like it wouldn't fit nicholas.

the constant repetition of how zhu, ouyang, and baoxiang feel are not "juicy" to me. they're fine characters and i like them. i would even say they're pretty interesting! but you could pretty much define each of them with a couple of words and you would get like. 90% of who they are. no subtlety. no imagination.

you can't define lymond with two or three or ten words. same with nicholas. even dunnett's characters who seem more simple and straightforward, like richard or julius, are more complex than that

another thing is that focusing so much on the emotional journey of the characters means that other parts of the book are completely neglected. the radiant emperor duology is a low fantasy historical fiction. but the historical part of it is given almost no attention at all. if i pick a histfic book, i want to feel immersed in the time period it's portraying. that didn't happen at all while reading these two books. you may like dunnett's minute historical details more or less (hell, i'm a huge fan and even i want to skip most of the historical mumbo jumbo in some of her novels (the ringed castle)), but goddamn she makes you feel immersed in the 15th and 16th centuries

anyway, the conclusion here is that SPC doesn't love dunnett's style, and i don't love their style. i will probably still read their following books when they get published, but i really, really hope they learn just one thing: sometimes (most of the time) books that are subtle, are better

[1indigoisles]

Chapter 6 - Excerpt 4

Back to Kenneth's POV 🤡

x

“Wait, wait, wait,” I chanted. “Wait. You’re essentially trying to tell me that you built this”—I waved my hands in a gesture that I hoped encompassed the entire room—“this secret hideout, for a situation that at the time of building may have—must have—seemed utterly far-fetched, all for your friend, within your government base, like what? Over the weekends? As a school project?”

Jolene, unbothered bitch that she was, smirked teasingly, “Yeah, you could say that.”

I wanted to throw my hands apart. I wanted everything to go wrong so that I would be too caught up in that to worry about all the ways in which everything could go wrong.

Because everything could go wrong, and I was more than sure I would never be able to catch up to it in time.

Because when we had quite literally fallen through an entirely random patch of floor, I’d genuinely thought we were going to die. That everything actually had gone wrong and that that was to be it for all of us. Time had stopped for a few seconds and a world-ending fear I had no idea I could ever possibly feel hit me like a freight train. It was so profound that I had found myself wishing for the end to come faster, just to get out of feeling that way.

But no, death was apparently not in the cards for the six of us, since we had proceeded to only connect violently with what felt like and was an obscenely large net made of thick fibrous rope. I had no idea how far we’d fallen, but judging from the way we bounced and flew around in a graceless, rag-doll-like fashion, there had been a bit of a velocity. Our bodies were thrown on top of and against each other, and since the room—or wherever we were—didn’t have a single ounce of light in it, it was impossible to tell who collided with who.

Desiree had shrieked even when we’d stopped bouncing. “Rowan, get off me, you just elbowed me in the face!!”

“Well, if you can’t tell already, I am trying to move,” Rowan had replied to Desiree’s cries, “but both my arm and leg are tangled with the rope, so if you could just give me a second!”

“Jolene!” Scarlett shouted.

“Yes, okay, Rowan, I’ll try to move from underneath, yeah?” Desiree struggled. “See if that works.”

A moment passed as bodies moved and the net shifted under my own.

“Okay, that’s not working,” Rowan said, his voice strained. “Don’t move for now.”

There was a growl of frustration. “This net system is absolutely fucking ridiculous,” Scarlett declared. “JOLENE.”

“Well, fuck,” Lila grunted at last, which pretty much summed up our life story. Her voice sounded a little soft, like she wasn’t quite as near as I thought she was.

I didn’t know about the rest, but I’d fallen on my front, my hands scraping violently against what felt like tough jute rope, my chest aching a bit from the sudden pressure. I also felt strangely winded somehow, but that was the least of my worries.

Because that had been the moment that Jolene, who’d been silent as a fucking monk right up until then, chose to call out cheerfully through the darkness. “Well, that was a blast, wasn’t it?”

Scarlett promptly let out a stream of profanities as the net jerked violently. “Jolene Frost, when I get my hands on you-”

“Oh, so you want your hands on me?” came the amused and most generic reply ever. “I hate to disappoint, but my interests are unfortunately held up by the opposite sex.”

Silence reigned for a moment. And then, “oh, you know you have a kink for me.”

Jolene barked out a proper laugh.

I blinked. Either me, Scarlett, or all of us were drugged, I decided then. In any case, someone had to be drugged, because there was no way in hell Scarlett had just made a sex joke.

“That I do, unfortunately,” Jolene replied a little sadly. “Only for you, then.”

“Well, fuck,” I insinuated, repeating Lila’s former statement. It really was a stroke of literary genius.

The net jumped again as Rowan and Desiree’s struggles finally grew fruit, resulting in a loud thump and a pained yelp as Rowan seemed to roll off the net and land on what sounded like solid ground. The room was still very dark, and some voices were close while others were farther away, and it was difficult to make sense of what our exact positions were. I had quite literally nothing to work with there, in the physical sense.

“Jolene!” Rowan had groaned. “The fucking lights, if you would be so kind.”

“This place has lights?” Lila had asked.

“We,” Scarlett had then declared, “are going to be having some very serious conversations about the layout of this dungeon, and the first point of discussion will be regarding this wretched net.”

There was a quite chuckle at that, and all too suddenly, with only a loud click for a warning, the entire room was filled with bright white light, almost blinding, although it may have only seemed that way because our eyes had grown so adjusted to the dark.

When I was halfway through convincing myself that I had not, in fact, gone blind, I found myself lying face-up in a fairly medium-sized grey room with a dirt floor and cement walls. The net took up a section of the room, four corners attached to two opposing walls, right up against a third wall adjacent to it.

I sat up, then looked up at the ceiling. The hole we’d fallen through to get here was gone, instead replaced by the unmistakeable outline of a trap-door.

Yeah, this town’s batshit crazy.

Which brings us to the present moment.

The dull white of tube lights fell over the room. Jolene was standing in the center of the room, wearing the feral sort of grin on her face that comes from having enjoyed something... insane.

Although she could just be laughing at us.

I mentally reinsinuated just how much I hated her.

Rowan had stood up and gone to her in the time I had taken to observe the room. Lila, I found, was on the far side of the net, Desiree was lying somewhere in the center, and Scarlett was jumping off the net and onto her feet just to turn her head and give the net a last glare as though it had personally offended her, which it probably had. As long as it existed, anything could offend Scarlett Raynott, I’d come to learn.

The room was far from empty. There were three open racks stacked together at the left wall, with cardboard boxes perched on each shelf by the dozens, containing I didn’t know what. They were wide, and whatever they held, it was a lot. On the right wall, there were seven beds—white, narrow, portable and a downgrade from the ones in the ‘resting-room’. In one corner of the room, there was a large grey blanket that lay curiously spread out across a patch of the dirt floor.

It’s hiding something.

I had no idea where the thought had come from, or what my head was even referring to at first, but when my eyes lingered on the blanket, I felt the whole room grow dimmer.

Realistically, that was not the case. The room was not dimming, it was only my vision that had been zeroing in on the blanket and made everything else around it slowly black out.

I got off the net, and in only a second I was past Jolene and away from the group in general, and don’t ask me how, but I was suddenly standing in front of the blanket, crouching next to it and bringing my arm out to tug it off whatever it was hiding.

A cold hand clamped down on my shoulder and pulled me back.

“Not so fast, Teigen,” Scarlett said.

I snapped myself back to reality and turned towards her. “Why not?” I asked, still a little out of it. I felt like I needed to shake my head to get rid of the weirness. “What’s underneath?”

“Nothing,” Scarlett said, at exactly the same moment Jolene said, “a Void.”

I chose to believe Jolene’s answer. “That’s concerning,” I remarked. “Haven’t you considered maybe not building a safe room around the exact place from which, I don’t know, a Shadow could pop out at any random moment? A bit risky, just saying.”

Jolene rolled her eyes at my sarcasm. “That Void’s actually the only thing that keeps this place undetectable on the Chambers’ radar. Voids are ridiculously hard to trace—you can’t exactly just stumble upon them on your morning jog—which is why an entire sector of people are tasked with tracking them down and closing them. Also, that particular Void there is inactive, has been for a long time, and even if it wasn’t, Scarlett’s mere presence would scare the fledgling Shadows away, since her own Shadow is so powerful.”

“So Voids can just do that? Go inactive?” I asked.

“Yes, but very rarely. It was a stroke of pure luck that we found this one.”

“So,” I began again, “because of that Void, nobody’s going to find us here?”

“No.”

“Why cover it up?”

“Isn’t exactly a pretty thing, is it? Pure darkness, blah, blah, and also, it would just clash too hard with the grey.”

I looked over at Lila, who was now standing next to Desiree. I wondered, I worried. “So we’re safe.” I said it uncertainly.

It was Desiree who replied, softly. “Yeah, we got away.”

x

Ugh this was a bland end to Chapter 6, but there's plenty action to come... just not in Chapter 7.

I have realised that I may have written a lot of action-packed scenes, with the last Excerpt of Chapter 2, Chapter 4 - Excerpt 1, and obviously, the beginning of this chapter itself.

Chapter 7 will be, to say the least, a breather chapter. Time will have passed, weeks maybe, in hiding (Jolene and Rowan are extremely proud that the gang is safe because of them, but that, predictably enough, won't last). Relationships start to really show here on out, you get to see the Chaos Twins (Jolene and Rowan), the Raynott sisters, and more on the character of Lila Teigen (such a queen for putting up with the teens' shit).

And, obviously, in Chapter 8, things go traipsing happily and merrily down to the pits of hell, because this is my story and I'm evil, so there. [I promise this is necessary; shit WILL go down.]

Also, side-note, in the document where I'm writing the novel, Scarlett made the sex joke on page 69, I'm not even joking, I swear.

Taglist: @jeahreading, @damn-this-transgirl-hella-gay, @mayaheronthorn, @cherryblossempearl.

[cerise-tears]

on aphelios

I haven’t seen Shrek. 

That’s not entirely true. I’ve seen the first... fifteen minutes? My cousins were watching it one Christmas and I happened to be in the room. It didn’t really interest me at the time. But I haven’t seen the full movie, much to the horror of my peers. At this point it’s a recurring bit, and if I watched Shrek I wouldn’t have that anymore. What would be the point?

I am constantly in awe of people who put “CEO of *insert char here*” in their bios, descriptions, regardless of fandom. I have read countless fanfiction and headcanons about Victoria Chase, tried my hand at some fanfiction that I hated because I find my writing pretentious and lofty, commissioned people to draw her, etcetera, and I would never call myself the CEO of Victoria Chase, or assume any such divine knowledge. That’s the beauty of reading art - it’s the ability to have infinite discussions with people about how they’d see the character in various situations. I don’t call myself the “____ gal” for anyone. I worry not invoking this makes me seem like just a casual enjoyer of things. I want to be taken as seriously as any insane person here. 

I want to disregard the community around Settphel. I want to disregard the racism, disregard the fanatics, and talk about the ship itself. I want to talk about how I don’t see Aphelios as stunted emotionally, but socially. I want to talk about how I wish Alune hadn’t been his sister, but instead his only friend. I want to talk about the frustrating “both sides bad” nature to the Solari/Lunari conflict and how if we wanted better storytelling Aphelios should not exist in his current state. But I can’t do any of that because the fans are the ship. Through a cascade of circumstances from the origins as a lite crackship, to genuine dipshits saying Sett is “too cool to be into men”, to Aphelios being a little too good of a character to self insert as, to a genuine lack of proper queer rep, there is a grafting that cannot be untethered. 

I want to be so good of a writer that there is sorcery in my words. That I could show someone that they are wrong about something and have them change on a fundamental, primal level. I want to be able to curse someone and have them thank me. And when I can’t even do that with my favorite characters, characters that have a head start from excellent writers laying the groundwork, it fills me with a profound despair that in fact I will never be that good. I will always just be the town heretic, shaking my fist at the passerby telling them that life could be better, that they’re thinking about it all wrong, that they could be drinking wine instead of tar. I don’t want to be known for swatting cups out of people’s hands. Maybe they’ve been thirsty for their whole lives. 

Aphelios drinks noctum, a toxic plant that constricts his vocal chords and causes him immense pain in exchange for incredible prowess. He also gets to hear his sister, but he can’t talk to her. I think that’s worse than being alone. I think that sometimes I feel that way trying to engage with league lore. I think I’ve been granted incredible knowledge but can never communicate it. I think I am literally Aphelios, practiced and intelligent and cool and alone. 

I think I’m no better than his fans. 

[distopea]

How would Oliver’s life look like if he didn’t run away from home? Does he daydream about it sometimes? Does he regret the decision and wish to turn back time? And if yes, does he romanticise the past? Is there someone from his family that he misses ( a grandparent or a distant aunt ) that he wishes he could reach out to?

@nezumivc103221

I must say, he probably would have had a very frustrating life. Oliver was the heir of his family, so he was meant to get involved in their business and pushed aside all of his dreams. His father was always on the road, going to meetings and conferences, he was invited to parties and worked every day, but he was passionate about his job. For Oliver, the simple thought of doing business had already been a mental torture since he was little. His family had never accepted his dancing passion, even less the fact he was definitely not made to do business and to assure the King's name in the retail world and household technology. If he had stayed there, not only his dreams would have been forever crushed, but his whole identity would have been swallowed and destroyed.

He rarely daydreams about what he could have had… At least, not anymore. In the end, even if his family casted him for his sexual preferences and his identity, then he believes it was for the best. Surely, the only thing he would have done differently was change his misfortune with the Cleaners, being less greedy, but he was only 16 when he found himself homeless and famished, and he was trapped by ruthless people who had bad intentions. Anyone of that age could have fallen for the bait, so he feels quite more indulgent with himself over the years, but still regrets his profound naiveness. 

Regarding his family, he doesn’t miss anyone. He had always had to hide who he was, whether it was because of his opinions, his passions, or his preferences. He had never found anyone to chat with, and he had truly experienced a sense of freedom when he could finally live by himself. For sure, his life is miserable and he’s the favorite toy of shitty man, but outside of this nightmare, Oliver can dance, eat, chat, laugh about anything he wants. He doesn’t miss his family, not at all, not for one second, and doesn't wish to contact anyone either. He was truly born when he was 16, through pain and sorrow, but through art and passion as well. 

[hotdrinks]

Honestly, at the start of the book I was very invested in Truant and the way Zampanò's work seemed to have a tangible effect on his life. But later on his footnotes mostly devolved into lengthy gratuitously detailed sexcapades, not to mention him having, let's just say, not the greatest views on women. All of this capped off with one of the most baffling, but oddly fitting, ends to his story that left me not knowing how to feel about him.

However, the middle of the book itself, the one that focuses on the fictional cult (as in cult around a movie) surrounding the Navidson Record and, ofcourse, the exploration tapes dwarf any lackluster writing in the footnotes. The Navidson Record has to be one of the most if not the most profound and innovative peice of horror media I have ever encountered. I envy anyone who gets to read it for the first time. It's a huge book, but I wish I had set a stricter time frame for myself when I first read it because it's a visceral experience that can lose its punch if dragged on for over a year.

WAUGH!! Okay anon I hope you're still there. I waited to read this message until I finished the book just to keep my perceptions of everything as uninfluenced as possible.

First of all, the way women are written in HoL is something I definitely struggled with the most. Trying to parse through Watsonian/Doylist interpretations. Sort of wondering for a while if maybe Danielewski just doesn't (or at least didn't at the time) write women very well (still not sure where I stand with this one but Karen's chapter did definitely help me feel a little bit better about it).

And yeah Truant's sexcapades put me off for a minute but once it became clear that they were just his way of trying to bury his grief and what was happening to him they annoyed me less. And while it frustrates me that women are often used as plot devices in this way (without being given their own agency or depth) I do think this part of his story was necessary to his character development and narratively relevant (I was worried for a second that it wasn't lol) and personally it endeared me to him once he moved past it.

I also think his poor view of women is condemned in the text. Or at least it's something he outgrows. Like how he convinced himself he was so in love with "Thumper" without ever knowing her name, and when he finally asked it was too late. He was just looking for something easy to save him, missing out on connections because he was seeing everyone as a life raft and not a full person. The parental trauma of it all. (This is where my thoughts about women in HoL start spiraling fhdjs)

Overall I stayed really liking him the whole time, even though I didn't expect to! I just found him really sympathetic. The pekingese footnote had its intended effect on me I think lol. Also I like a sorta purple style of writing sometimes, so I didn't personally find his footnotes lackluster, but I can understand how they could grate on others. There are just certain lines in those notes that I think I'll remember forever, just because I think they were written so beautifully.

Also!!! "Visceral" is the perfect word to describe the Navidson record!!!! The format making you experience the House alongside everyone is soooo effective. It really does just instill grief in you while you read it, there were parts that made me cry and cry like a little baby boy in my own home. I was like shouting and talking to the characters while I was reading. And the ending was perfectly bittersweet to me. It's so good and so special I'm really happy I read it, I definitely want to read it again eventually.

[avesseloflanguage]

I want there to be a soundtrack to my life. I want there to be a song there for me when I need it. 

I listen to a lot of sad music. A lot of poetic lyrics about breaking and healing and hoping and not knowing. That’s what I need a lot of the time. I wish it wasn’t.

But I fall in love so easily. I don’t know if I am capable of just liking someone; the second I get anything to work with my heart goes running with a little bit of love and with each passing moment there’s a little bit little bit little bit more until suddenly it’s more than I know what to do with.

That’s not entirely true. That’s only what happened with him. With her, it was slow and confusing and painful. Stumbling into love, I guess. Then falling out. 

Maybe there’s something wrong with me. It’s silly to base my understanding of my own sanity on whether there’s a song to accompany any given moment in the imaginary — and incredibly mundane and boring and poorly written — biopic about my life. 

I could read off a nightmarishly long list of songs that I loved because they were written with love about the same love that I loved her with. I still have the playlists. I don’t think I’ll ever delete them. I don’t listen to them, but last summer I was able to listen to the Looking For Alaska soundtrack again without thinking of her. 

When I broke her heart — twice, twice, cruelly and horribly again — I found every song I could about being left behind, every lyric about a lover not loving enough, every melody that ached of being broken up with, and listened to it, knowing that I was the one the song was about. I was the one who drew blood and left something broken behind. I don’t know why I collected the songs like that. Maybe it was a twisted sort of comfort, knowing that I wasn’t the only cruel person in the world, or maybe I just needed the reminder that I had done what I’d done. 

Loving her and unloving her was scored to perfection. Every moment had a melody and something to perfectly and poetically and pristinely sum up all the emotions and feelings we had and shared and lived in. But that was also the problem. When you only have poetry, how do you say anything ugly? How do you go through the hard conversations and uncomfortable questions and angry or sad or frustrated thoughts when every moment was supposed to be perfect and poetic and pristine?

With him it was different. It was so different, and I was certain that meant it was the right way, the real way, to fall in love. It was awkward, and funny, and simple. I made a playlist before our first date, one full of every song about a crush or new relationships I could find — at least, all the happy and fun ones. The ones that sounded like joy and bright sunshiney beauty. I made it so I could dance around while I got ready, because I was so, so nervous. But none of them felt like they were capturing how I felt. They all felt silly and disconnected and I loved that. I loved that what I was feeling was real and my own, not something that was so easily packaged into a song.

After two weeks I wanted to make a new playlist, one that sounded like my feelings for him then. Soft and gentle and not love but something I could see — I wanted to see — turning into it someday. I couldn’t find almost anything. It was all about silly little crushes or this deep profound love and it didn’t make sense to me. I felt like I finally got it right. A boyfriend who was kind, who told me honestly how he felt and what he thought, one who I didn’t feel like I had to lie to or bury anger around. That’s what I wanted. But they don’t write songs about the easy things, I guess.

It was comforting to me. At least, I told myself it was. It was so far from her that it had to be better, because I was so awful with her. 

But now I know that they don’t make songs about being let down gently, either. They don’t make songs about the boy who wasn’t falling in love back, who would never fall in love back with you. At least, not ones where the boy is still kind and gentle and a good boyfriend, where he’s not using you or manipulating you. Because he was still honest and that was why it ended, because I was choosing to be blind and would have let myself become in love with him while he watched. But he didn’t do that to me. He didn’t want to hurt me and now I can see just how much careful calculation went into it, the moment he told me that he didn’t think he liked me, not like that, that he might never like me like that and that he wished he could and that it wasn’t my fault. Two months and a few weeks. Not a short match that burned you at the fingertips and not a flame that lasted so long I wouldn’t be able to recover from the cold of its absence. A successful relationship. A kind goodbye.

It's okay, it's okay, it's okay. He is still my friend. I am still holding on to that little bit of love but I am trying to learn to lose that. I am finding songs but they're all about betrayal and cruelty and that's not what it was, I listen to them and I cry but I know that’s not what it was.

I don’t know if I want the songs anymore. Maybe the soundtrack is holding me back, restricting me to a path I don’t know how to escape from. Is it really comfort, is it really loving that somebody you will never know seems to know you anyway, seems to capture every ache in your heart? I am afraid of what else it might be but I think it’s time to say goodbye. Listen to something new. Heal. Sleep. Cry and laugh or laugh and cry. Move on.

[billyranger]

Book Opinions: Casey McQuiston - Red, White & Royal Blue

This is not a book review, this is just me being absolutely frustrated with this book.

I have been in a bit of a reading slump and I wanted to get back into reading. I have a lot of books that I want to read and where I know I will enjoy them, but some reason I kept reading the same 5 fanfics again and again.

I have wanted to read Red, White & Royal Blue for a while, mostly because I remember the tumblr post that started it all and it did sound cute if a bit fanfic-y. So I thought it was a good transition book from fanfic to actual literature for me.

This book is kinda meh in general and very bad for me specifically.

It was sold to me as enemies-to-lovers romance with the "First Son" of the United States and a british prince. I thought it could be fun. I was wrong. I am not having fun. I am about halfway through this book and I am not having fun with this book.

Let's start with the characters. The main character is an asshole, but the book really, really wants you to like him. He is also very smart and witty, which in this case just means he talks like a Joss Whedon character (post Avengers). The other character just straight up does not have a character. I think he likes Star Wars? The other characters are all very diverse, which is mostly nice, but occasionally feels like a checklist. Especially because they don't seem to have a lot of character otherwise. There are two girls (first sons sister and veeps granddaugther) who are also very prominent in the book and as far as I can tell is that one of them wants to be Nate Silver and the other Ronan Farrow. The British in this book have a very bad case of being written by an American

And now the romance between the two main guys. It's boring. It is so damn boring. They are not "enemies". One of them was slightly rude to the other, so they disliked each other for the first two chapters and then they kiss and their fine. The book also does not know if it wants to be a romance for adults or YA. The sex scenes feel like the author wrote a full on explicit sex scene, but then took out everything too explicit and now half of it is just missing. Which is bad because sex is about all these two do when they meet. So their relationship feels mostly bland.

And here is the shit that was annoying to me personally.

The politics

The fucking politics.

I generally do not mind politics in my romance/media. I enjoy it. Its a good source for conflict. I am also way (WAY) too into american politics and know too much about british politics (and the monarchy. ugh. I wish i could delete that knowledge). This book acts like it wants to say profound stuff about politics, but it is so surface level. It is like the author made the world into a weird rainbow capitalism version of the real world. On the one hand the author references a lot of actual people and events, but on the other hand shit happens, that would not happen in a world where these people and events exist. The world building just does not make sense. It is too close to our real world, which makes everything feel very off.

The mother of the first son is also such a Hillary Clinton character, but it took me so long to figure it out, because they basically took out everything slightly negative about Clinton. So now she is just a slightly high-strung politician. And also a divorced democrat from Texas. Which could have accepted actually. What I am way more angry about is that apparently she was Speaker of the House in circa 2012. That fact is just dropped in a half sentence and I am still obsessing over it.

Also the book was published in 2019 and all of the pop culture references already aged so very badly. Most of them are Harry Potter, Star Wars or MCU.

I have not yet finished the book, but I will try to do that. Though halfway through the book a private email server was mentioned and I threw the book against the wall. So we will see if I can manage that without further damage.

[albumstrackbytrack]

Jungkook album Golden song meanings

1. "3D" (featuring Jack Harlow)

On the song, Jung Kook expresses his strong feelings for someone he can’t reach with a witty touch. Since he can’t be there with his significant other, he chooses to watch in “3D.”

2. "Closer to You" (featuring Major Lazer)

is an enchanting track that beautifully encapsulates the yearning to be closer to someone special. The lyrics, woven into a tapestry of emotive melodies, convey the profound emotions the protagonist harbors for their beloved., In the lyrics brought to life by Jungkook’s powerful vocals, there is a continuous theme of a person who will always fight for their partner; someone who doesn’t care about what anyone else says and will stand strong in their love and desire. Through this theme, it can be seen that this song is a part of the exposition of the story told throughout the album, “Golden.” It is a story about a person’s journey through a relationship from falling in love to breaking up., describes the stage of falling in love through lyrics that depict the desire a person has for their prospective partner. The lyrics make sure that the protagonist’s desire is built on a strong foundation of a vow to love and support their partner through every adversity. Additionally, they attempt to remove the fear usually associated with relationship problems by stating that those issues will only bring them closer., is a song about the hearts of two lovers who are irresistibly attracted to each other

3."Seven" (explicit version; featuring Latto)

Lyrically, "Seven" is a romantic serenade about wanting to spend every moment of every day with one's lover. The explicit version's lyrics express a more sexual desire, Throughout this bubbly track, Jung Kook serenades his listeners with his vocals, while painting a scenario where he would comfort his lover with both physical and emotional love throughout all seven days of the week.

-> https://youtu.be/QU9c0053UAU?si=x7m-2H6FbdlBgDPn

4. "Standing Next to You"

The song’s lyrics express the strong feelings the narrator feels for a loved one from simply standing side-by-side with each other. There are also small easter eggs in the lyrics that seem to reference Jung Kook’s past solo songs and some past BTS projects., It is a song that promises, ‘Because our love is deeper than anything else, I will be with you no matter what adversity comes.’

5. "Yes or No"

The song beautifully reflects the emotions of someone deeply in love as he expresses his overwhelming feelings and seeks confirmation from his significant other through the pivotal question: “Do you feel the same way as me?”

6. "Please Don't Change" (featuring DJ Snake)

It contains the wish, ‘No matter how far the distance between us is, my love for you will not change, so please do not change for me either.’, expresses a plea for someone to remain true to themselves. The lyrics convey deep affection and love for another person, emphasizing the desire for them to stay as they are, without any alterations or transformations., is a song that explores the challenges and pressures of fame and the desire for an enduring and unchanging love. It expresses a deep affection for someone and a fear of losing their unique qualities. The themes in the song touch on the tension between public and private life, as well as the yearning for constancy in a world of constant change. The emotions conveyed include love, longing, and a desire for stability in the face of the ever-changing nature of the entertainment industry.

7. "Hate You"

could be a metaphor for how Jungkook feels about someone who made him go through a painful experience. In the lyrics, Jungkook sings about how he wants to forget this person and not remember their memories, but he also expresses feelings of anger, frustration, and heartbreak that he can’t seem to shake. The song shows the complicated, difficult emotions that Jungkook is feeling, despite his desire to move on from the past and live in the present., delves into a complex emotional state where the narrator expresses their intention to hate someone. The lyrics suggest a desire to paint the person as a villain, even though they may not inherently possess those qualities. The narrator admits to blaming the person for things they haven't actually done. Ultimately, the act of hating becomes a coping mechanism to shield themselves from emotional pain.

8. "Somebody"

I feel that my relationship with my lover has changed and it is time to admit that I am not the one to be with that person in the future., the lyrics convey a sense of longing and a desire for connection with another person. The repeated line "Somebody to die" suggests a deep yearning to find a meaningful relationship, someone with whom Jung Kook can share his life and experiences.

9. "Too Sad to Dance"

It is a song about a confession that after breaking up with a lover, he danced and pretended to be okay, but instead of being forgotten, he was just waiting for a call from her, revolves around the emotions of heartbreak and regret. The lyrics suggest that the narrator is waiting by the telephone, hoping for a significant person to return. However, they come to the realization that the person they were waiting for is not coming back, and they blame themselves for not realizing it sooner. This realization and the subsequent heartache have left the narrator feeling too sad to even enjoy dancing.

10. "Shot Glass of Tears"

It is a pop ballad song that starts with a monotonous piano and adds a chorus to the playing of instruments such as guitar and bass to express rushing emotions. It is a song about a heart that has healed after experiencing the pain of a breakup and fears whether it will one day be able to feel new feelings of love again

Sources ;

https://www.songtell.com/jung-kook/too-sad-to-dance