#but the action will only succeed positively with will and not el.

[museofhestia]

Astrology Update:

Mars Opposition Pluto

Mars in Cancer will be in Opposition to Pluto in Capricorn for the next couple of weeks.

This is the first of three Mars-Pluto Oppositions we will have over the next six months, but it is the only one that happens through the Cancer- Capricorn Axis. The next Mars-Pluto Oppositions will be through the Leo-Aquarius axis. First, let's review the energetic lessons of Pluto in Capricorn and Mars in Cancer:

The Final Month of Pluto in Capricorn: Oct 12 - Nov 19

Pluto in Capricorn represents a profound period of transformation, particularly in structures related to authority, government, and long-standing institutions. Pluto is the planet of power, transformation, and regeneration, while Capricorn rules over ambition, discipline, and societal frameworks. When Pluto moves through Capricorn, it brings a powerful urge to reform and restructure these areas, often exposing underlying weaknesses or corruption. The lessons of this transit involve facing the truth about outdated systems or personal ambitions that no longer serve a purpose, allowing them to be dismantled or reformed. It's a time for embracing change, even when it feels challenging, to create more resilient and authentic foundations for the future.

Mars in Cancer: Sept 4 - Nov 3 (and again Jan 6 - April 18)

Mars, the planet of action, drive, and ambition, typically encourages direct and bold behavior, while Cancer, a water sign, is associated with emotions, home, and nurturing. When Mars transits Cancer, our actions and motivations become closely tied to our feelings, family, and need for security. This transit can lead to protective and defensive behavior, as well as a strong desire to care for loved ones or defend personal boundaries.

Mars is "Fallen" in the sign of Cancer, in opposition to Capricorn where it is exalted. Fallen Mars struggles to assert itself in the sign of Cancer, where empathy, emotion, and compassion are prioritized. The lesson of Mars in Cancer is to learn how to channel assertive energy in a way that respects emotional needs and prioritizes the well-being of oneself and others. It's a time to balance action with empathy, using passion to support and protect rather than to confront or compete.

Mars is also in the Pre-Shadow of it's upcoming retrograde. While the Mars Retrograde will not begin until December 6 in the sign of Leo, it will come back to Cancer while retrograde in January - and it is currently in the section of Cancer that it will revisit during the retrograde. The lessons of Mars in Cancer that we encounter now may be revisited during the Mars Retrograde in early 2025.

Mars Opposition Pluto

Mars is in Opposition to Pluto through this entire week, and the aspect gets stronger and more intense as Mars approaches the last degree of Cancer. This aspect is building a lot of tension and holds a potentially explosive energy that we will likely all feel just below the surface. Pluto is in the critical anaeretic degree of Capricorn, and Mars is in Detriment while in Cancer, so there is added volatility here from both sides of this aspect.

This is a potent and transformative transit that can bring to the surface intense power struggles, deep-seated emotions, and significant life changes. On the positive side, this aspect can fuel ambition, determination, and a strong drive to succeed. It can also empower individuals to confront their fears, break free from limiting patterns, and undergo personal transformation. However, this transit can also lead to destructive tendencies, obsessive behaviors, angry outbursts, and a desire to manipulate or control others. The challenge lies in harnessing the intense energy of this aspect in a constructive way and avoiding destructive impulses.

Be aware: This transit really starts to amplify around October 25, building in intensity, and it will finally start to ease up a few days after Mars enters Leo - around November 7. In the USA this aspect is a major player during the election, so it will be very important to avoid outbursts and try to find soothing activities to relieve stress and tension.

[monterraverde]

How Paldea works (Monterra edition)

Paldea has a constitutional parliamentary democracy and a prime minister, but while in the past this body has essentially ruled over the region, the last ten years they have become increasingly hands-off, only focusing on funding and legislation. Everything else is more or less funneled through the pokemon league. Geeta is, by the amount of duties and responsibilities she has, the proper head of state, and is actively working to essentially merge the two to further her dream of a better Paldea.

The Champion Assessment and all its parts was devised as a way to keep just any trainer from being champion. The Interview is unflinchingly upheld to keep out people who will simply abuse the title or are just looking to collect champion titles like they're trading cards. Champion rank in Paldea is an extreme responsibility, you'll be asked to assist with league operations, and called to action if anything ever threatens the region (assuming you're physically able to do so), therefore only those who genuinely, honestly answer the questions correctly are permitted to even challenge the Elite Four. Rika can (and will) fail you on vibes alone if she determines you're only reading from a script and not being honest with your answers

Because of the nature of the Top Champion position, it is inherited. The current Top champion will select a current champion ranked trainer to personally train to eventually take over their position, this is currently happening with Geeta training Nemona.

The Elite four are chosen primarily on a sponsorship system, where a current Elite four member will pick and train a champion ranked trainer when another member has indicated their intent to resign/retire. The sponsored champion is then subjected to a far harder version of the champion assessment, where they must run the gauntlet again, but against the other members higher leveled teams. If they succeed, they earn the title. If not, it's another year of training, or they drop out completely.

The E4 and champion have two separate teams. One is known as the 'regulation' team, and is only used when students are challenging the league. Its a strong, but intentionally flawed team build, forcing them to sandbag a little so the kids have a fair chance. Students can be molded further into the champion rank through deeper training, which prompts the need for holding back against them. Anyone older then 17, though, takes on a much stronger version of these teams, where the Elite four and champion are allowed to take the proverbial gloves off and go a little harder, utilizing more competitive strategies to really challenge the applicant, as an adult should have more of a grip on pokemon battling then a child.

An Elite Four has the capacity to become Top Champion in case anything happens to the current one, similar to how the US president and Vice president line of succession works. If Geeta, for whatever reason becomes unable to perform her duties as top champion, the duty falls to the next in line. The current line of succession is: La Segunda (Rika), El Tercero (Larry), and El Cuarto (Hassel), El Quinto/La Quinta is currently a vacant position because Poppy is too young to inherit it, but it would likely fall upon Nemona or the MC should the title ever need to be invoked.

AREA ZERO IS STRICTLY OFF-LIMITS TO ANYONE AND EVERYONE. THE ONLY WAY TO BE GRANTED ACCESS IS TO BE INVITED BY THE PROFESSOR THEMSELVES OR GRANTED EXPRESS PERMISSION BY THE PALDEAN GOVERNMENT. There are cameras and motion sensors EVERYWHERE that will IMMEDIATELY alert the Elite Four and champion if a human presence suddenly enters the space, prompting search and rescue efforts and heavy punishment for the perpetrator, up to stripping them of their trainer license and jail time- if they're not immediately killed by paradox pokemon of course.

Paradox pokemon escape from the crater occasionally, and their existence is kept as an extremely confidential secret. The Elite Fours main duty outside of the usual is to capture and contain these escaped paradoxes, which usually sees them closing off roads to make sure trainers keep a wide berth under the guise of a 'vicious pokemon outbreak.' The Hospital in Levincia is uniquely partnered with the league to keep knowledge of these pokemon from getting out while they treat any elites injured because of the paradoxes.

Paradox pokemon DO NOT PLAY FAIR. They'll attack the trainer giving commands as well as the pokemon itself- whichever one is the bigger threat in the moment, they're incredibly dangerous and unpredictable.

Tera orbs are obtained only through a letter of recommendation from either the academy staff or a current champion ranked trainer. They're attached to your trainer ID and heavily tracked, as the level of power they command has the potential to cause damage to both the region and other people if not used correctly.

(Will add more to this as needed, feel free to ask questions if you need anything clarified/are curious about other aspects)

[queer-coded-camaro-driver]

The Eye and Hand of Vecna

So I’ve already discussed how I think El is a good reflection of the Raven Queen based on the Forgotten Realms lore. Now I’d like to explore the roles of the Eye and Hand of Vecna, two incredibly powerful magical artifacts from the original Dungeons & Dragons game.

The Eye of Vecna: 

“The Eye of Vecna allows its wearer to cast the clairvoyance, crown of madness, disintegrate, dominate monster, and eyebite spells a limited number of times. It progressively regains its magic at every dawn. Using the artifact to cast any spells incurs a small risk of Vecna himself tearing the wearer's soul apart, devouring it, and taking control of the wearer's body, using it as a puppet.” 

The wearer of the Eye of Vecna also gains the ability to use Truesight:

“A monster with Truesight can see in normal and magical darkness out to a specific range, see invisible creatures and objects, automatically detect visual illusions and succeed on saving throws against them, and perceive the original form of a shapechanger or a creature that is transformed by magic. Furthermore, the monster can see into the Ethereal Plane within the same range.”

The first Eye of Vecna was Will Byers. He broke free with the help of his friends, who essentially banded together and repeatedly cast Dispel Magic (by offering happy memories and support for Will to use as ammunition). This also left him with the residual ability to sense Vecna’s presence (Truesight).

The second Eye of Vecna was Billy Hargrove. Alone, angry, and good at picking up the details around him, Billy provided an excellent window into Hawkins High for Vecna and the Upside Down. Unfortunately, despite El’s best attempts to save him, Billy was torn apart and “devoured” by the Upside Down. He lost his soul and became one of Vecna’s puppets, as seen in Season 4′s “Dear Billy”. 

And who’s my prediction for the new Eye? Max Mayfield. 

Ironically blinded by her run-in with Vecna at the end of Season 4, Max is now in the best position to become the new Eye. Related to a past Eye (Billy), emotionally vulnerable, and proven to be an aggressive and skilled ‘warrior’, Max meets all the criteria for a possession. She also has close ties with El (our Raven Queen) and therefore offers Vecna the best possible ticket to victory.

The Hand of Vecna:

This artifact grants supernatural strength to its wearer, as well as a boost of cold energy to spells and attacks dealt with a weapon held by it. In addition, the Hand of Vecna allows its wearer to cast the finger of death, sleep, slow, and teleport spells a limited number of times. It progressively regains its magic every dawn. Using the artifact to cast any spells causes it to demand its wearer to commit an evil act shortly thereafter, in a manner similar to the suggestion spell.

Claiming the Hand also gives its user the highest possible Strength (20). 

I would argue that the first Hand was Steve Harrington. He hindered the initial investigation, antagonized the Party/Nancy/Jonathan, and balanced his ‘cute boyfriend moments’ with semi-random acts of evil (we hear Steve say WAY worse things than Billy ever did throughout the course of S1). 

Jason Carver was the Hand in Season 4. He incited violence, kept the sheriff’s department from making progress by insisting on a false narrative of Eddie’s actions, and appears at just the wrong moment every time. His strength comes not only from physical/athletic prowess, but from social power. 

I think the next hand might be Dustin Henderson.

Hear me out: 

He’s lost the most important people to him over and over. Will, Mike, Lucas, and now Max have all left him in one way or another. They come back, but their temporary loss weakens his already unstable foundation (I could write several papers about the experience of living as a child of divorce/under the roof of a single mother). Combining his intelligence and curiosity with his feelings of loss and frustration would be easy for Vecna.

Anyway, these are my thoughts.

[whynotimtired]

Thinking about how in st2 Mike pitched his idea to set the hub on fire as "distracting the demodogs so El has a chance of getting in there and closing the gate" when what mike REALLY succeeds in doing is being the breaking point for the mindflayer in wills exorcism. His plan was the thing that finally broke the hold and FORCED the mind flayer get out of him. He saved Will. Hopper was the one who ended up keeping the demodogs away from El.

[findmeagreenlight]

The thing is, these three conversations are all about something slightly different.

The first is El and Mike connecting because they have both been bullied. El understands that Mike was reluctant to tell her, she understands the kind of shame and fear or retaliation that it brings, that he didn't want her to see him differently.

The second is Will and Mike talking about their respective traumas: Will about his visions of the Upside Down and Mike reciprocates by sharing that he sometimes still thinks he sees El, even though she is likely dead. Neither of them know what is reality and what is hallucination. Mike has never mentioned this to anyone else before and Will doesn't want to tell the others because he doesn't want to be viewed in a less positive light, doesn't want to be treated differently - which the others already do. That's why Mike says El would get it.

The El and Mike conversation in s4 isn't just about being bullied, it's specifically about their reactions to it.

It's established in s1 that Mike (and the Party) try to ignore bullies or relent to them. It's only with El present that Mike first tries to fight back, regardless of whether he wants to impress her or is inspired by her. But he never succeeds in fighting back - El does.

She intervenes at Will's memorial and when Troy threatens Dustin with a knife. Mike would rather jump off a cliff than have a friend hurt in the fight: he does something very brave but very, very stupid. He would have died by being a live shield for Dustin.

El doesn’t turn the other cheek: she has the ability to go up against others. She wants to hurt back when she’s hurt, which is understandable considering her awful upbringing where she was actually encouraged to hurt living beings. Remember when they wanted to make her hurt/kill a cat? She wasn't willing to so they tried to force her into solitary confinement, which she was scared of. She became so upset she killed the two people bringing her there - threw one into a wall and snapped the other's neck. Brenner praises her for it.

When Mike and Lucas started fighting in front of her in s1, El threw Lucas across the field to make them stop. When she first sees Max with Mike, she pulls the skateboard out from under her. When she and Hopper have a fight in s2, she brings half the house down: she throws a book at Hopper, pushes the couch into him, makes a bookcase fall over and when she screams in frustration, the glasses shatter. Hopper asks, "what the hell is wrong with you?"

(Hopper also doesn't handle this fight well and has some physical reactions like slamming the door, slamming his hand on the table etc. but he never directs it at her. It's El who escalates when she can't counter being grounded. They both have anger issues, like father, like daughter.)

Her fear isn't about hurting people in general (she has no issues with self-defense) rather that her reaction will be too extreme for the situation, get someone permanently hurt and she will later regret it - and how that would change the way others looks at her.

In s4 she suppresses that instinct to get back at Angela so much that when she comes to a boiling point her reaction is too extreme for the situation. Angela was awful but she didn't resort to physical harm so El shouldn't have either, as cathartic as it must have felt.

El is afraid of causing more harm than warranted, especially to people without powers. It’s loss of control, both over her powers and over her reactions/emotions in distressing situations. Mike can't understand that because he can't throw people into walls out of sheer emotion or open a portal to the Upside Down in sheer terror. He tells El in season 1 she's not a monster because she saved him - but would he still think the same if Will was permanently lost? El's actions, with intent or not, have greater consequences than Mike's.

That's why when he says "They just don't know you", it's not comforting: when El wanted to break up the Lucas-Mike fight and instead got Lucas hurt, Mike got upset with her too. Him starting a scuffle with Lucas was unlikely to cause serious damage. But El throwing Lucas across the field could have and made Dustin and Mike scared for him when he wouldn't wake up immediately.

Again with the "what is wrong with you?" Quite a contrast to Brenner's "Incredible."

That is why she had to confront her past and Brenner's manipulative role in it in season 4: to know herself more, thus have greater control and alleviate some of the guilt and responsibility she's been shouldering since opening the gate. And that's why it was good she heard Max's own struggle to forgive herself: El worried about doing too much in a moment led by emotion; Max worried she hadn't done enough.

And I imagine next season she will need to decide how much harm she is willing to do when it's not a momentary but a well-considered decision - leading us back to Kali.

[thevindicativevordan]

Superman in 2021: Year In Review

What a fucking year it's been for Superman. Might be his best year ever? Certainly his best year of the 21st century so far I would argue, we're at the point now where there's seemingly a Superman project for everyone either out now or in the works. Felt like doing a brief overview of my opinions concerning the major projects he's been featured in this year:

Future State - All the Superbooks were good to great for me at least. Standouts were PKJ's Worlds of War and House of El, Watters Superman/Wonder Woman, and Williamson's JL.

Superman & Lois S1 - The first major piece of Superman media outside of a comic since Smallville to not only be good but actually be well-received by the public at large? Man was that a nice experience. Hoechlin is on his way to becoming my favorite live action take on the character, and Tulloch really wowed with some great Lois scenes that show she has what it takes to be my favorite Lois as well. Plus of course our second live action Steel, with Parks already cementing himself as my favorite live action Steel (sorry Shaq).

The Suicide Squad - Bloodsport became the third Superman villain to show up in film, defying any conventional logic. Furthermore he became the second Superman villain in the DCEU to not be complete crap after Zod. Fun movie and Elba gave a great performance, I hope Bloodsport being introduced to a wider audience means he'll show up in MAWS. Gunn has teased more TSS spinoffs which knock on wood means we could get a Bloodsport HBO Max series. Hopefully Bloodsport will return for TSS2 if that gets made, or show up in other DCEU projects.

Injustice movie was ass - You better believe I gleefully drank in the tears of all the Injustice fanboys on Twitter crying about how DC "butchered" their favorite story. Sucksssss to be you guys! Petty cackles were had at everyone complaining that Flash's death was stupid, like the entire goddamn comic they love so much doesn't run on jobbing and people forgetting how their powers work. Hope that's the end of adapting the Injustice stories outside the games, the movie basically adapted the I1 and I2 comics as well as ending in a place where Superman and WW have realized they were fucking evil. I will allow that a loose adaption of the I2 game with a Superman who has realized he became a monster and wants redemption could be interesting, but otherwise I would love to see this Earth get nuked by the Anti-Monitor in the rumored CoIE trilogy.

PKJ Superman/Action - Despite starting off weak (the two-part Golden Age crossover between Superman and Action was apparently a last minute mandate and his brief Superman run was clearly just buying time for Taylor) from Action Comics #1030 onward PKJ has been the best Action Comics writer since Morrison. Even over Pak who I consider hugely underrated, PKJ has brought a level of worldbuilding, ambition, and stakes to the book that have been sorely lacking for years. His take on Mongul is the best since Alan Moore, he has a solid grasp of Superman's voice, the art has been fantastic, and Action is the book I'm most excited to read every week it comes out. Issue 1038 which came out this week was the first time in a long time where "hope" as a concept came up and felt meaningful. PKJ is putting Superman through hell yet it's being done not to tear him down but to build him back up better than before. I pray he gets a long run on the title, if he can maintain his current level of quality this is going to go down as an all-time great Superman run.

Taylor Superman: SoKE - Tough to give this an analysis. On one hand it's done some things I like: Made Jon bi, brought in Wildstorm concepts, seemingly helped establish Jon as Superman, and so forth. Despite Yara and Jace acquiring greater initial interest, it's Jon who seems the best positioned to succeed in the long run given Taylor's sales success. Until now however Taylor really hasn't lived up to the idea of Jon being the one to deal with "real issues" and the series feels meandering and lacking in direction at times. Normally I'd attribute this to Taylor's weakness with villains - he usually can't write any villain well bar the Joker in my opinion - but his recent SSOKE Annual where Lex and Jon met for the first time since Jon became Superman... was actually very good? Lex felt in character in a way I personally didn't feel he was in other Taylor works that used him. Continuing to pull it and see where Taylor plans to take Jon for now, but I need Taylor to actually give me a sense of what the long term vision for this book is, and build up the villains in addition to Jon. Others have wondered if Jay is going to become Jon's "Magneto" and that could be interesting.

Superman & the Authority - Morrison's swan song for their time with Superman was bittersweet. On one hand full of regrets that for all their hard work, they still aren't sure if they were able to elevate Superman back to the heights they dreamed of when they made their Superman 2000 pitch. Yet also a final goodbye to a character they've undeniably left a mark on, brimming with ideas, and with an optimistic faith that perhaps the next generation will be able to carry the character onward to greatness.

Yang Batman/Superman - Short but sweet, we already knew Yang was a good Superman writer, this showed he's a great Batman & Robin writer as well. I hope to see Yang back in the Superline given the new head of the Superbooks, Paul Kaminski, has edited pretty much every book Yang has done at DC, and Javins edited SSTK for him. Kaminski was also the editor for New Super-Man so I maintain a faint spark of faith that we will get Kenan in something soon.

Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow - Along with the Andrekyo run and Future State, this has convinced me that Kara works best out in space and away from Earth. Really enjoy Supergirl meets True Grit, with a grand tour of the DC Cosmos as the setting. It's my belief that Kara will take on the name Superwoman at the end of this and maybe we'll get a new Superwoman ongoing afterwards? PKJ has said on Twitter he has plans for Kara in the near future but no clue if those are going to take into account what King has done with her here. Be nice if Ruthye stuck around as part of Kara's supporting cast.

Calvin Ellis in Infinite Frontier and Justice League Incarnate - Williamson pairing Calvin and Thomas makes for a fun twist on the World's Finest, Brandon Thomas wrote a great oneshot issue that gave us a "day in the life" of President Superman, and I'm enjoying JLI so far. Calvin and Dr. Multiverse could make a cute couple, I hope they do get together, and am looking forward to Calvin hopefully having a big role to play in the 2022 event that's coming.

Superman vs. Lobo - Unfortunately this turned out to be a dud. Was really looking forward to Seeley on Supes, but neither the attempted humor nor the plot could hold my attention. Shame because I expected to love this given Seeley being a clear fan of Morrison and having done a good job with Superman previously elsewhere. Hope we get a good Superman story with Lobo in it one day, I'm fond of pitting the two against each other.

Superman Red & Blue - Another overall disappointment unfortunately. There were a handful of great stories spread across the six issues, but waaaay too many of what we got were rehashing the same basic story concept over and over. Less of a showcase of the breadth of Superman's world than it was a window into the limitations of the creativity displayed by multiple writers, I have to regretfully label this a dud. Great art let down by tepid storytelling. If I never have to see a "Ma and Pa teach Clark a lesson" or a "civilian saves Superman" or a "Superman comforts a child" story again I will be quite pleased. Maybe I've become jaded but those kind of stories have become too commonplace and have lost whatever impact they used to have for me.

Superman '78 - A very solid nuts-and-bolts Superman story set in the Donnerverse and with the classic status quo for those not enjoying what PKJ and Taylor are doing. Oddly enough reading this is where the brilliance of what Morrison was trying to do with Brainiac really clicked into place for me. Wonder if Venditti was inspired by Morrison's take at all for his own conception of Brainiac here?

World of Krypton - Solid so far and I really love Oeming's portrayal of Krypton. Dude can do trippy scifi like no other. Venditti has been enjoyable so far on these side minis, I wonder if the new head editor for the Superline will keep giving them to him? They don't sell great but they've been well received critically from what I can tell. I'd love to read a Zod mini from Venditti, he's probably the best Zod writer... ever honestly? Unquestionably ruthless but you get a sense of nobility in Venditti's handling of the character that again is present here. Intrigued to see how Venditti handles the Jor-El/Zod split and also hoping for more Kara from him given how well he handled her in his Annual.

Additionally there's stuff coming up in the future that was announced this year which I have thoughts on:

Battle of the Super-Sons - Kid Jon fans get a win! DC animation has had it's fair share of misses lately so this isn't guaranteed to be good, but it at least will provide some new content for people who want their boy back. Going CG animated over traditional animation should be interesting, wonder if it will go for a similar style as the GL show?

My Adventures With Superman - Sucks that it's been delayed until 2023, but on the upside that means it's debuting for Superman's 85th anniversary! Very excited for this, even if it ends up not appealing to me personally it's the first major Superman project in a while to focus solely on him, and will hopefully win over a new generation into thinking he's cool. What we've been shown so far looks great, I hope they do a good job with the villains, and it would be awesome if Steel and Kenan managed to show up in this.

Legion of Superheroes HBO Max animated series - And for us Teen Jon fans and Bendis defenders there's this! Early in preproduction still but Bendis has specifically said this will be using his run as a base, which almost assuredly means it will be using Jon as the POV character. If it does get made I'll definitely check it out.

Mark Waid/Dan Mora Batman/Superman - Another project that seems made to give those not feeling the IF status quo a chance. Excited to see what Waid will do with Mora, he mentioned that he had to reign himself in because he went really heavy on the Superman Rogues at first. Also talked about on Word Balloon how he doesn't want this to be a "retro" book, he's aiming for contemporary storytelling. Apparently Dick as Robin will be in every issue as a return to the true "World's Finest" trio, with Dick making jokes as comic relief. Want Waid to do well and hope he'll turn in something on the level of his Dr. Strange run if not his Daredevil run.

Mark Waid/Bryan Hitch Superman Black Label project - Besides mentioning that this will be set in the Birthrightverse on other podcasts, Waid talked a bit about this on a recent Word Balloon interview. He mentioned that this will explore why Superman doesn't kill. This is totally going to be a pointed "fuck you" to the Snyder fans who kept using Birthright to defend Snyder's take won't it? Heh well I'll check it out, same as his B/S series I'm hoping Waid can knock it out of the park given this is likely his last chance with Superman.

League of Super Pets - Trailer was funny and the relationship between Krypto and Superman looked great. If it does well I hope to get a sequel and maybe even a solo big budget Superman animated movie.

Superman & Lois S2 - From what they've shared so far there's going to be a "Superman" villain and a "Lois" villain, with the two not working together but both threatening the Kent family. Guessing Anderson is just the opening foe like how Irons was, most interesting part for me is seeing how the Superfamily and the Steel family interact given the tension that's sure to be there from living together.

Possibly an animated Crisis on Infinite Earths trilogy - Apparently the rumor mill is saying that the 2023 DC DTV animated movies will be a three-part adaption of CoIE. Word is that it will involve every animated DC property ever created, from Super Friends, to the DCAU, to the DCAMU, to the standalone animated movies, and more. Sounds like it could be entertaining if they actually get the budget for it.

Supergirl movie - Curious but need to see Sasha in action before deciding whether to go or not. My guess is that if this actually gets made, it will be a loose adaption of Johns/Frank Brainiac arc in the comics. Maybe Cavill will show up as a co-star here if he's actually in The Flash and WB can come to terms with him.

Val-Zod HBO Max series - Don't care, don't like Val, don't plan on watching. Should be good for those who like the character however. My guess is it will be another Supergirl/Miles situation where they take stuff from Clark and give it to Val. Long as it's not adapting the evil Superman "Brutaal" bullshit and it doesn't screw over S&L from doing whatever they want by poaching villains, I'm fine with this show existing much as I would've preferred Kenan be the one getting a show.

Coates Superman reboot - This on the other hand I'm expecting to be garbage. Coates' time writing Black Panther and Captain America was terrible, he name dropped the DCAU incarnation as a source of inspiration, which I'm not a fan of, and nothing so far has given me any reason to believe WB knows how to make a good Superman movie. With what has been rumored so far - black Clark, Elseworld, set in the past, based on the "original" Superman - my guess is this will be a loose adaption of Superman Smashes the Klan. Fits in with what we've been told so far, lines up with Coates historical interest, and makes for an easy Oscar bait movie about racism which I assume is what this is going for. They should've tapped Yang for this.

Possibly a Superman game in the works at WB Montreal? - No real reason to believe this is coming but with the Monolith WW game announcement we suddenly have proof that WB might actually be willing to greenlight DC games that don't star Batman. They're gearing up pre-production on a second DC game so there's a chance, and given I've written off film Superman as a lost cause at this point, just give me a goddamn Superman game and I'll be happy.

While we're still far behind the highs experienced by the Spider-Man and Batman fanbases, Superman fans have a lot to be thankful for and to look forward to. Situation isn't perfect, there's still projects coming that I'm not looking forward to, such as the inevitable Injustice 3, but for now I can say I genuinely am happy with where Superman is at and I feel optimistic about the future. Seeing people clown him across social media platforms recently when someone suggested the idea of a Supermen multiverse team up in the vein of No Way Home was depressing, I have to admit that. But there's been plenty of great Superman stories that came out this year and most of the upcoming Superman projects appeal to me. The 20s seem poised to make up for the 10s being his worst decade ever. Perhaps at the end of this decade the idea of a multiversial Supermen team up will inspire excitement instead of scorn.

[penelope1597]

https://www.handmaidsbrasil.com/2021/05/por-que-e-errado-shippar-june-e-nick-em-the-handmaids-tale.html?m=1

And here is exactly why the antis hate Nick. There are so many things wrong in this article…it’s really not incorrect when we assume they are watching a completely different show.

Nick accepts Pryce's invitation. He likes the idea. Even before the coup came into action, Nick was already working for the first Commanders as a driver, disguising his position as Eye, a position of trust, after all it is no wonder that the Eyes are also known as "untouchable".

Nick makes his contribution to the planning of the system of ceremonies involving handmaids, when Fred asks, "What do you think of all this? The issue of the handmaids." Nick replies "I think you're right, sir. Better not to create bonds."

As I look before the coup, it is presumed that he was clarified about the group's intentions. There were numerous possibilities of actions for Nick to do something even to prevent the Sons of Jacob from executing the Coup and being able to establish Gilead, such as having asked for government protection and having delivered what the Commanders planned, he did neither that nor anything else, why?

When Serena suggests Nick do the Ceremony in "Faithful", he had the power and duty to hand over Fred's wife without being harmed, after all, in addition to Serena being just a Wife and this giving her almost no power, Nick is not just a driver, it is "untouchable". However, even though he has power and duty, he not only fails to denounce Serena but also goes ahead and rapes June in another Ceremony.

In "Unwomen", when Offred is hidden in the premises of what was The Boston Globe - an escape that was engineered by Mayday - Nick mocks June by refusing to stone Janine. "You played the heroine in the stoning when rebelling. You chose." Complicated, Nick. June's fault now?

Nick once again disappoints. Gilead is trying to get back Nichole, Fred and Serena's "daughter". June asks Nick, as Commander, to hand over information to the Swiss committee so that Nichole remains safe in Canada. On a date, June even begs "This is your chance to be a father to our daughter." What happens? Nick goes to Chicago and ignores the call for help.

When June discovers that now Nick is a Commander, tells him that with more power he can take her and Hannah out of Gilead, once again Nick deviates and nothing happens.

On his return as Commander, Lawrence proposes a ceasefire in the Chicago area where Janine and June are. However, before the truce, Nick is appointed to command a bombing in the conflict area, the bombs fall on the backs of June and Janine, who almost come out dead from what happened.

In the final of the third season, in "Mayday", Serena loses the rights to meet with Nichole after Fred handed Mark Tuello that Serena orchestrated Nick's "rape" with June. Tuello delivers in this scene what should have been understood since the first season, was a rape. Serena is guilty of suggesting, but Nick, who had the power and duty not to, executed the idea. Rapes are not love stories.

But what about escape, why didn't Nick succeed? We have to remember that the first time, it was not Nick who planned June's departure, Mayday executed the idea,

I translated it to English because it’s in Portuguese….and I now need a palate cleanser

Thank you @melicaffa for sharing the link with me

#wtf did I just read #what are you watching #do they air a different version in that area #did I miss something #holy fuck

[yamayuandadu]

Rider of Clouds

A a loose adaptation of the Ugaritic Baal cycle of myths, with some changes and the holes patched up with other myths and historical trivia. It will probably go on and on as some sort of silly “myth crossover” thing. Mount Saphon, the spiritual center of a large but poorly defined area spanning from the Mediterranean Sea to the Euphrates and the residence of many gods, needs a new king. While the former king of the gods, El, favors his distant relative Yam, this decision is not popular with the other deities and would be a disaster for their human followers; however, few dare to question El decisions in public. The exception is Baal, the heir(ess) of El's popular but not very ambitious rival Dagan, determined to take Mount Saphon to the bright future of the late bronze age.

Protagonists

Baal (Hebat) – the eponymous Rider of Clouds (a real title used in myths and cult texts), a young weather deity born to Dagan and Shalash (not pictured), semi-retired agricultural gods who settled in Tuttul on the Euphrates shortly before Baal's birth. Dagan hails from Mesopotamia proper, while Shalash is Hurrian. While the mythical  Baal Hadad is male, my version is a woman – the idea started as a joke about conflating Baal from the Baal cycle with Baalat Gebal, a female figure associated with another levantine bronze age city (BG's actual identity is an object of much scholarly debate) being more valid than conflating him with much later Baal Hammon from Carthage (or rather with Roman hot takes about this deity), which happens a lot online, but I got attached to it o now here we are.   She nonetheless uses a male title inherited from her father, much like a few historical female rulers did. In my version “Hadad” is only a title (or rather a me, eg. divine attribute), and her real name is actually Hebat. Irl Hebat was, among other things, the name of a goddess mentioned in one inscription as Dagan's daughter, and thus a featureles sister of Baal. As the levantine/syrian Hebat lacks a defined character in real mythology (”another” Hebat was regarded as the Hurrian storm god's wife but was at times replaced in this role by the more interesting sun goddess of Arinna and that's about it; I'm not going to use that one in my story) it should be fine to conflate her with Dagan's best attested divine child, I think? Baal is impulsive and follows a moral code which, depending on the point of view, might be either naive or heroic, which means she's not exactly the optimal person to get involved in n-dimensional divine politics (the ideal person to be the protagonist of an Ugaritic epic poem, as evidenced by history), but that's not enough to stop her from trying; the popularity with humans helps, too. The story documents her rise to the position of the head god of the pantheon residing on Mount Saphon, ruling over Ugarit and other surrounding areas.

Astarte (it should be Ashtart for maximal accuracy but everyone knows the later form of the name better so...) – a goddess of humble origin and no particularly well defined attributes, who attaches herself to Baal initially in hopes of advancing own career, though the two eventually develop a more genuine relationship. She patterns herself after the much more famous Mesopotamian Inanna, seeing her as an ideal to strive for. While Baal has the name recognition and disposition fitting for a major deity, Astarte is the part of the duo actually capable of navigating politics, and takes the title of Face of Baal, negotiating support for Baal's bid with other gods. The image of Baal she projects differs slightly from reality, though not enough for most onlookers to notice. Astarte is also a connoisseur of foreign clothing (as pictured above) and art.

Anat (art courtesy of my girlfriend who sadly isn’t on tumblr but who helped a lot with figuring out a lot about this story) – the younger daughter of the ruling couple of Mount Saphon. Her philosophy differs greatly from her parents' and as a result she isn't really seriously considered for succession. Her hobbies include bladed weapons, gambling and heroic epics; in the past she attempted writing her own self insert one. Her temperament means she was never considered for succession, which she doesn't particularly mind. She's deeply invested in Baal's ascendance, and is probably the god Astarte wants to recruit for their cause the most.

Gupan and Ugar – two minor gods who might be some of the only allies Baal recruited herself rather than with Astarte's help. They play a minor role in the story as her messengers and heralds (just like in the real myth!). They're also a couple. The cuneiform on their coats says “Baal.”

Kothar-wa-Khasis – a craftsman god who, by own admission, only works part time in Ugarit and travels the world for the rest of it. He's kind and dependable and his wares are both affordable and of great quality, but his real motives are hard to ascertain. His real identity is likewise a subject of much speculation among other gods – while his preferred manner of clothing hints at an egyptian origin, nothing is known for sure. His true name is that of the god Ptah of Memphis; he spends most time outside it and incognito because he thinks smaller pantheons on the periphery of Egypt's influence offer more artistic freedom. He speaks in a very poetic pointlessly complex way (basically... imitating the style of ancient poem translations). While an architect first and foremost he a reneissance man - architect, sculptor, engineer, armorer, musician. He isn't very fond of Yam due to the latter's lack of aptitude for art and cost cutting suggestions.

There are actually two gods hiding behind the title “Kothar-wa-Khasis,” with the second one hailing from Caphtor (Crete) from where  Kothar arrives when commissioned to build Baal's palace in the real myth. She's shy and refuses to reveal her real name and hides behind the title “Mistress of the Labyrinth” and the labrys symbol. Her arrival is generally a sign of the duo taking a project particularly seriously.

Shapash – El's firstborn daughter, serving as “the torch of the gods”, a royal herald and solar deity. She also handles her parents' “foreign policy” on their behalf, which in practice means figuring out how to placate neighbors whose decisions aren't guided by the need to avoid angering various reviled figures.

Antagonists

Yam (right)  – a sea monster more than a god, presiding over the nearby section of the sea and all that dwells in it, including the commercially significant sea slugs. He's also the son of the formerly influential Anatolian god Kumarbi, banished to the underworld by the current head god Teshub due to his many past misdeeds. As a result of his father's past influence over the world (and current influence over the ruling couple), Yam gained El's support and received many titles, which de facto makes him the most likely to succeed El as the king of local pantheon.  He's capricious and inconsiderate, but maintains a larger than life public image meant to make him palatable to potential backers. The exact circumstances of his arrival in Ugarit are shrouded in mystery, and may or may not be responsible for his unusually strong hatred of Baal. Mot (left) – profoundly unpleasant and unsociable being kept around by Anat's parents for unclear reasons. He resides in the great offering pit in the abandoned city of Urkesh, formerly the center of Kumarbi's sphere of influence, reduced to a ghost town.   While his equivalents in neighboring areas generally view themselves as impartial or as a necessary evil, Mot gets his kicks from posing as a personification of death itself, and is notoriously corrupt. El and Athirat – the ruling couple of Mount Saphon and parents of Anat and Shapash, currently pondering retirement, which stirs many contenders to the throne into action. El is a lifelong opportunist changing views and allegiances as he sees fit, though he pretty consistently favors his distant relative Yam as his main underling ever since the latter arrived in the area.

El was originally Amurru, a courtier of the sky god Anu, overthrown by the nefarious Kumarbi. For unclear reasons Kumarbi made Amurru his vassal and bestowed the name Elkunirsa, or El for short, upon him.

Athirat is largely responsible for El maintaining his title for so long, and is a much craftier politician than he is. She comes from an influential dynasty of sea gods, but lacks dominion over the sea herself.

She and Yam are related, as seen here.

Abduyam – an attempt at developing an obscure figure from the original myth, Yam's nameless and seemingly rather rude and infuriating messenger, into a full blown character. The theophoric name he uses (there are real theophoric names invoking Yam, surprisingly) is just a pseudonym, and his real identity is a mystery. He interned under a variety of famous mythical villains in order to gain a greater understanding of their ways, and currently serves as Yam's messenger, adviser, doorkeeper and punching bag.

Ashtar – a feeble opportunist who sides with Yam, hoping to receive a share in the gains he's making thanks to El's blessings. He's pretty content with playing the role of a toady though his aspirations might be different, as Baal and Astarte suspect due to his love of gaudy imported textiles. Megalomania doesn't necessarily equal malevolence, though. He also loves sea slugs.

Foreign dignitaries

(ignore the ?, it’s just Baal) Marduk (right) – the tutelary deity of Babylon, a prominent and internationally renowned god. While technically the area encompassing Mount Saphon, where the events of the story take place, isn't directly under the control of the Babylonian pantheon, as one of the oldest in the world and the source of the writing it nonetheless has a tremendous impact on smaller neighbors. Formally Marduk is merely a representative of his father Enki and the assembly of the gods in Nippur, but as the old gods are not very mobile, he's the de facto acting head of the pantheon in foreign relations. He doesn't have a unified mythical narrative about himself yet at this point in time, despite his position, which is a source of insecurity for him. During travels, he's assisted by his personal aide and biographer, Nabu (not pictured), and his pet mushussu, Tishpak. Seth (left) – in real life, ancient Egyptians equated many gods of their neighbors with Seth; therefore in Rider of Clouds Seth serves as an ambassador of the Egyptian pantheon, usually residing in Gebal near Mount Saphon – a city whose gods (and human rulers) take pride in trying to be more Egyptian than the Egyptians themselves, and regard Seth as their spiritual liege (under the title “Lord of Lebanon”). While ultimately Marduk's judgment matters the most, Seth gets the right to veto his decisions when it comes to validating claims to local thrones. On good terms with Kothar-wa-Khasis, which is a subject of much gossip among other gods. Teshub (center) – the head of the Hurrian pantheon, technically capable of projecting the most power in Mount Saphon politics due to the Hurrian influence on huge number of other local pantheons, including that of the Hittites, thanks to his marriage to the Hittite sun goddess of Arinna; however, as the local gods for the most part share closer affinity with Mesopotamia than Hatti, he competes with Marduk for political influence. As he and Baal are a very similar type of god, he's the most outspoken supporter of Baal's ascension to the throne out of all 3 foreign dignitaries. El’s support for his nemesis is probably a factor, too.

Kubaba – the head goddess of Carchemish; much like the king of Carchemish served as a Hittite viceroy taking care of affairs of the vassals irl, she acts as Teshub's ambassador in the southeast, mediating between the Anatolian and Syrian gods. She hopes that Baal's rise will normalize foreign relations to the benefit of her human followers – El's erratic behavior and sympathy for a number of widely detested figures made that rather difficult. While she's not much older than Baal, she poses as an ancient deity and dresses like someone twice her age. She also seeks opportunities to insert herself into suitably ancient narratives. In another time and place she'll be known as Cybele, and eventually as the Roman Magna Mater, but this is not the story about it.

Plot-relevant but not present in the story physically

Inanna – the celebrity superstar of every pantheon from Hatti to Elam. After being elevated to one of the foremost positions among the gods she started a profitable franchising business, offering help with setting up own cult system and the right to use the title of “Ishtar” and the eight pointed star emblem in exchange for a share in potential profit and a spot in the franchisee' home pantheon. As her fame is unique even among the greatest of the gods, this isn't that bad of a deal. Other benefits of the franchising program include free tickets to the annual Ishtar meetup in Uruk and a 24/7 tech support line ran by her sukkal Ninshubur. Asides from Astarte, prominent members of the franchising program include the Hurrian Shaushka, the Elamite Pinikir, and the night goddess of Kizzuwatna.

Kumarbi: an agricultural god of the Hurrians who seized the kingship of their pantheon violently before being overthrown himself by Teshub and his allies. Now he resides in the underworld and plots, aided by a network of allies – some opportunistic, some stupid, some simply malevolent. His will is usually carried out by an unspecified number of identical fate goddesses, possible to differentiate only by the numerals on their veils. At the core he and Baal's father Dagan are very similar gods in function, but not in temperament.

[whereflowersbloom]

Shadows and thorns

Part IV.

Ahsan Manzil, the main residence of the royal family had been silent and mostly empty after welcoming the visitor, royals and nobles last night. The silence had been as comforting then as it was now as Damian did not want this conversation to be heard by the wrong ears. Even in his own chamber they had to be cautious so the Prince had given orders to the servants that he and Jon were not to be bothered. Not even Timothy Drake who had helped come up with this plan in the first place, was there. Damian did not wish to catch the eyes of his grandfather’s spies.

Richard Grayson watched his good friend and Prince pace restlessly in his royal chambers for what it seemed like an hour. Damian had to announce the betrothal to his Grandfather and the whole kingdom before the tourney ended. Yet, the man stuck himself in deep thoughts, instead of actions. That was unusual. It was the first seeing his friend grossly unsettled.

Damian felt his pulse elevating slightly, there was a dull pounding in his head. His plans for the day included persuade Jon to join his cause, with the house of El by his side and the Shadows,he was positive his strategy could assure the other a noble houses, the coup endeavor would succeed. Here he was, ready to tell his best friend, the man he trusted with his own life, the ploy to overthrow his grandfather who was no longer in condition to rule. Damian was aware that his words could be considered treasonous if anyone else heard them, and anyone who knew his grandfather, Ra’s wouldn't bat an eye to order his own flesh, his only grandson’s execution.

He also admitted to himself, he felt conflicted for what he was about to ask Jon as it shamed him a bit. It was an unbecoming and unfair task to put to Jonathan when the man only ever strived to be as honorable as possible. But the Al Ghul house had to do what was necessary, the security of his nation was in danger. Damian would not disappoint his people, letting them suffer the King’s ruthless cruelty. It was enough.

“May I enter, your Grace?” The soft and gentle voice of Jonathan El resonated, pounding on the copper covering Damian’s chamber massive wood door. The door opened a crack, revealing the imposing figure of Richard. The servant step aside and let Jon inside the room, handsomely dressed, with a shy half-hidden smile. Damian stopped wandering around the room instantly, standing next to a ormolu mounted, ebony and fruitwood table, several rolls of paper lying there. Damian gave his friend a serious look before speaking.

"I urge you to keep the words from this room secret for the nonce.” The crown Prince continued. "In time, I will reach out to other houses, but for now I would rather my plan be of the utmost secrecy." The somber expression on Damian’s expression made an impression on his friend, for the characteristic smile on Jon’s friend disappeared as he frowned. Jon looked shocked, but composed himself after a few seconds, confusion in his expression was an obvious thing, but who could blame him.

Both Richard and Jonathan. Each man nodded solemnly, aware of the implications of their actions. If the prince asked for their silence, it meant even speaking with the prince about this, was possibly considered an act of high treason, punishable by death or any other punishment the King saw fit.

"The King is paranoid. He thinks the other Nations are plotting against him and he is preparing for the battle before they take action first." The heir of house El’s frowns as he takes a seat, his mind completely muddled. Damian continued after giving him several seconds to process the information. "I believe the King is no longer apt for the Al Ghul throne. You know what they call him, Jon. The demon King. And each day it's worst. I'm deeply concerned for the realm.”

He saw the dark haired man's face turn to stone, an understandable reaction considering who his grandfather was, the Demon King commoners and nobles equally called him, and when a cruel King as Ra’s was, sends a party to your lands, it is a reason to be concerned.

“Damian, you understand what it means. My house..” Jon muttered severely. His sapphire eyes widened at the revelation, frozen in his seat. The words that just left his Prince’s mouth were dangerous if listened by the wrong person. He had a clue were the conversation was going and a chill climbed up his spine. What his friend wished to ask him. Treason, was the word crossing his mind incessantly.

“I need you Jon.” His old friend said a harder note coming into his voice.

"What will you do?" he asked in a serious tone, staring expectantly at the young heir, man in front of him, and Damian had never felt so pressured before in his entire life. He did not want his friend to be severely punished, bring dishonor to his house name. It was a matter of life and death now. Theirs and his people.

“I’m sorry Jon. It must be you. You’re my only trusted friend from a high-born house I can share my idea with.” He continued, giving Jon an apologetic glance, asking silently for his help when he needed it most. “For reasons I can’t say, we must be wary now. We may have enemies in the realm.” He breathed darkly, his green eyes narrowed.

Jon considered carefully and wisely the prince’s petition. Treason was involved. A coup was required for Damian to take the throne. He had chosen his friend as his king, he had sworn him his sword and his support in his attempts at ushering change in the Kingdom. Damian wanted to call a Great Council, members from the most influential noble houses of Nanda Parbat, who would speak on behalf of the others, considering their needs and interests. Jonathan was resolved to stay by his friend and prince side whatever may come.

“When the time comes, you’ll have my support, my friend.” Jon exhaled in agreement, promising his word and sword to his friend, feeling a pressure in his chest and head built to new heights. But he was willing to risk his head for his friend and the future of Nanda Parbat. “Now all you must do is marry and have a heir as soon as possible. Have you chosen a bride already?” He stood and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, smiling warmly at him, with genuine affection.

A vivid image of his lovely Rhachel’s slender waist curved with pregnancy came to his mind. He closed his eyes, remembering, feeling the sudden urge to see her and hear her daring, charming voice, touch her flawless fair and silky skin. “I have. There’s some arrangements to be discussed before I can announce it publicly.” He took a deep breath, changing direction for a moment. "I hope to take the throne with as little bloodshed as possible.” He sighed as he thought of the battle to come, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. Only then he noticed just how tired he was, his fatigue mounting considerably. Exhausted of his grandfather’s madness, his wickedness. The things he did to his father.

“Now you must tell the details about this Lady. Who’s the bride to be of Damian Al Ghul?” Jon asked curiously, a perky and boyish smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he began patting on his boyhood friend’s back. "Rhachel Roth from Azarath.” Damian breathed with a broad smile on his lips. She was a beauty, truly stunning with those moonlight locks and amethyst eyes on fire, but he knew what hid under that beautiful exterior. He let out a musical, wholehearted chuckle the moments Jon’s eyes were wide open by the surprise, and proceeded to delineate with precise details the situation to his cheerful, gentle friend, who was overwhelming him with numerous questions.

The corner of his eyes catching a glimpse of Richard’s face, trying his best to repress a mocking chortle.

Rhachel Roth was a storm and Damian Al Ghul was unexpectedly and helplessly falling for her.

~~~

A hot bath was already waiting for her, when she reached her chambers, a bed full of pillows in silk covers that seemed so tempting after her long day were calling her in. A mound of different bright colored fruits rested upon a bronze recipient in a wooden table next to the balcony. She walked to the balcony and looked out. She could see the night sky adorned with ancient and brilliant stars. The wilderness stretched before her in a never ending landscape of dense forests and rolling hills. It was as if the was discovering a whole new world, her eyes roaming across mysterious lands that would take her weeks to ride through with Melchior. If only she could stay. But she couldn’t. At least she could't complain of her accommodations. It was a glorious and majestic palace.

The single thought of her wedding made her sick, thinking of all the people that would be attending, people she didn’t know expecting her to act like the princess she was supposed to be, a dutiful, committed wife and queen. After that, her old life would be gone. She’d say goodbye to her home and Constantine. Everything she knew would be left behind and a new beginning awaited her in Westland. With Wallace West. Not Prince Damian. She did. She was struck breathless the moment he saw him but she didn’t allow her lips confess the truth. It didn’t matter how much they longed for each other.

She lowered her body underneath the covers of the enormous bed, curling up on a pillow. Her mind filled with thoughts of Damian. Damian sleeping beside her, his hands circling her waist, holding her heart-shaped face, her legs entangled inhis manly ones, her hands tenderly wrapped around him, his vivid eyes looking deeply into her violet ones. Her rational mind stopping her deep romantic nature from demanding what she wanted, from asking for that quenching. She wanted it to come freely, like flowers that are given and not requested. She fell asleep gradually, dreaming of his dark haired prince, with olive skin and emerald eyes, his lips wandering every inch of her pale skin.

~~~

“My Lady Roth. It is time to wake up.” A young was shaking her shoulders gently. “Lady Rhachel, please. I brought a present from the Prince, for you. “ The woman continued shaking her shoulder with more strength now. She finally blinked open her amethyst eyes,wincing at the sunlight streaming through the windows. The woman she did not recognize sighed with relief and smiled at her enthusiastically. “Oh finally! My Lady, I’ve brought a present from the crown Prince. You must wear it for the tourney.” The unknown woman tmurmured as she pulled back the dark duvet.

“You look dreadful, my lady.” The maid told her blatantly. Rhachel blinked at her words. This lady was evidently brutally honest. “Apologies, Princess. I am your maid in waiting, Korinna Anders.” She covered her mouth when she realized she had spoken out of term and bowed to greet her formally.

“My maid in waiting? A present?” She sat up on the bed, studying the woman in first of her. The had bronze complexion, dark red locks and green eyes that remind her of limes. She seemed to be a candid and good-natured woman, someone she could trust she hoped.

“The prince ordered me to come here and serve only you. I apologize for disturbing your sleep, my Lady.” The red-haired woman said calmly, curtsying low as she opened the box she had been carrying. Out of it she pulled the most splendid gown she had ever seen.

“I found myself utterly exhausted after the feast.” She told her new maid in waiting as she almost stumbled getting out of the bed. The maid passed her a robe and a basin of cold water. She splashed it over her face. It was revitalizing, the weather was too hot for her liking today. “It’s exquisite. Will you help me put it on?” She asked softly.

Kori as she called her in her head fetched her breakfast while she cleaned herself up, and by the time she was finished, there was freshly made bread and fruit waiting for her.

Eventually she had to stand to get dressed, and the cloth came away. She shook her head in bewilderment. What were Damian’s intentions sending her a gown? Hidden motives she thought. The maid laced her up into a heavy magnificent gown.

The bodice, embroidered with pearls and diamond-like shiny stones, tightened her already small waist in a way that accentuated her curves, the cleavage seemed to adapt to the form of her breasts, leaving a little uncovered area at the center of them in a way that it almost made her blush, her shoulders were bare and left her back free of any fabric in a V shape. The skirts were a vision in shades of pink and light lavender silks.

Her long white hair had been braided in several braids down her back, adorned with small white roses and lilac flowers. Wisps of loose hair fell around her face, tendrils wild and romantic-looking. Her reflection in the mirror astonished her. She felt beautiful. Desirable. Was that really her?

“You’re a beautiful sight to behold, my Lady. You’ll take the breath away from all the Lords and Knights.” Kori’s words assured, speaking incessantly about her blinding, unique beauty.

She was ready to attend the grand tournament. If Damian wanted to play with fire, both could play it.

Im back with a new chapter 🙈🙈🙈🙈😂😂💜💜💜💜❤️❤️

@deep-in-mind67 @chromium7sky @ravenfan1242 @andthendk

[antoine-roquentin]

Barring last-minute intervention, Orlando Hall will be the eighth person killed at the federal penitentiary in Terre Haute since July. The execution spree is unprecedented in more ways than one; according to the Death Penalty Information Center, Hall’s execution would be the first lame-duck federal execution in over a century.

Yet even as Covid-19 spreads out of control, the Trump administration plans to kill two more people in December. One is Brandon Bernard, the co-defendant of Christopher Vialva, whose jurors have signaled support for a commutation. The other is Lisa Montgomery, the only woman under a federal death sentence. Last week, attorneys for Montgomery, who has severe mental illness, revealed that they had tested positive for Covid-19, almost certainly as a result of traveling to see her in prison. In a hearing on Monday, a federal judge seemed reluctant to grant more time for her clemency petition.

Hall’s attorney, Robert Owen, who also represents Bernard, has declined to be in Terre Haute for the execution, out of concern for his health. “It alternatively fills me with rage and despair that the government is being allowed to pretend as though the pandemic is over when it is not,” he said. This week a federal judge denied a stay of execution in light of the pandemic.

In Terre Haute, where only two of the seven men put to death have had their attorneys present, fear of new execution dates is compounded by a sense of invisibility. In emails, a friend of Vialva’s reiterated the dismay he felt at the silence from politicians in Washington before he died. “I think Christopher wanted the Democrats to be true in action to their position against capital punishment and to take a public stand … against Trump’s executions, no matter the nature of the crimes,” he wrote.

For Democrats, opposing the federal executions would mean confronting a policy that President-elect Joe Biden did much to create. Hall’s case was one of the first capital cases tried under the 1994 Crime Bill, which dramatically expanded federal death row. The 1996 Antiterrorism and Effective Death Penalty Act curtailed federal review, making it harder for the condemned to challenge their convictions in court. Although Biden was instrumental in these “tough on crime” reforms, today he has vowed to eliminate the federal death penalty....

Last week, a group of Democratic lawmakers called on Attorney General Bill Barr “to suspend all federal executions so the incoming Biden-Harris administration can evaluate and determine the future use of the death penalty by the federal government.” The American Bar Association also sent a letter urging reprieves for Hall, Bernard, and Montgomery to allow attorneys to safely and fully advocate for their clients. But neither appeal seems likely to succeed. The Trump administration has refused to acknowledge the election results, much less the ways in which Covid-19 has stymied efforts to save people on death row.

Whatever the future of the federal death penalty, Hall’s case is not the type most likely to spur calls for abolition. The harrowing details have been repeatedly recounted in true crime documentaries and podcasts, which memorialize his teenage victim, Lisa René, and decry the brutal violence she endured. “In the years that I’ve been doing this, she is actually probably the most innocent victim that I’ve ever worked a case on,” Detective John Stanton said in an episode of “The FBI Files.”

Yet other parts of the story have been neglected, including critical context about the failures of the legal system that convicted Hall. Last year, his co-defendant, Bruce Webster, saw his own death sentence vacated after a federal judge was persuaded by an argument his trial attorneys tried to make almost 25 years ago: that his intellectual disability made him ineligible for execution.

Hall, meanwhile, was convicted by an all-white jury. Although his victim was also Black, in contrast with the majority of people on federal death row, the exclusion of Black jurors in his case is a disturbing emblem of the death penalty’s racist roots. Hall’s attorneys also point to significant failures by his court-appointed trial attorneys, particularly when it came to the critical investigative work that could have moved jurors to spare his life.

Among these documents are declarations from investigators, relatives, and members of Hall’s community in his hometown of El Dorado, Arkansas, who describe Hall’s expressions of remorse as well as his positive attributes. Several describe how Hall once saved his young cousin from drowning in a motel swimming pool. The same records describe a childhood marked by violence, abuse, and neglect — factors that help explain how he came to commit such a heinous crime, but most of which his jurors never heard.

[nobuverse]

@despairfiles​ said :  ‘plot please!’ (one for each of yours?)

send ‘plot please!’ and I’ll give you a plot I want for our muses!

{ I really wanna see Nobunaga and El-Melloi probably not get along at all. 

While they’re both known for being great tacticians, Nobunaga’s strategies do seem to succeed a lot of time based off either pure luck or the tactic being so out of this world that it’s noting the enemy would ever expect. Nobunaga is incredibly loud, immature and irresponsible, while El-Melloi definitely looks like the type of person she would have hated in her mortal life

 I think they’d have two completely different views on how to do things and that would be really fun to play with if say....they got stuck in a singularity where they’re cut off from communications at Chaldea? I think that would create a bit more tension in this case, as the difference between servant and pseudo servant would actually put Nobunaga at a significant disadvantage. She can’t be cut off from her master the same way the El-Melloi can, as her independent action only allows her to manifest for a few days in this state. She might actually have to listen to someone for once. Shocking ! }

~ and now we go into read more because i have a lot more of these to write~

{ Alright, pick of a weird pick here buuut I’d really love to see Summer Nobu with Gray-! Though their personalities are very much on opposite ends of the spectrum, I also think the specific way I play Nobunaga in her beserker form could form an interesting connection with her. They both have this overarching theme of sealing power magic that they can’t really handle behind restrictions of different sorts, even if the circumstances that led them to is really different. 

Nobunaga has a pretty positive outlook on life I’m sure her summer version would be better at trying to share with someone than her less mature archer manifestation. Given that she’s supposed to be on a world tour being away from Chaldea though, maybe we could justify them meeting by some people wondering where the heck she’d just disappeared off to? ( I guess she hasn’t gained that much of a sense of responsibility. whoops. ) }

{ I feel like Angra Mainyu and demon king Nobu would have some....interesting differences for their existences as avengers. After all, the demon king’s reason for their hatred is...hollow. It’s something that was made up by t he man that sculpted them in his idea image, not a part of the orginal Nobunaga, who hardly has any regrets about they way they live  their life. We’d probably have to do this before the time the Demon gets to killing Ritsuka, though. Since the power level between the two is....uh, somewhat significant, yeah? Just something in place to keep the Demon King from killing your Angry Mathew alskdjf }

{ LOST, the mini Nobu, would very much like to help the great rider Snoopy on his deliveries !! She is the king of running errands !! }

{ I would like Nobukatsu to talk to a regular human being that’s not going to bully him. Maybe someone like Shirou Emiya or some weird AU with koromaru being a master to raise his self esteem just a little? I get bummed out hearing him insult himself all the time and not living his own goals. This guy needs to learn that he make one (1) friend outside of his sister. } 

{ Is it just me, or could I kinda imagine Archer Emiya becoming a sort of pseudo-father figure to chacha? Seeing how her last relationship with her last adoptive ‘father’ was uh....probably not all healthy, I’d really love to have someone that can firmly say no to her nonsense and infinite demands. And, in much the same that happens with children, she might end finding comforting in having limits and rules. 

I mean there’s also like...a ton of trauma Chacha hasn’t exactly come to terms with but that can be dealt with later. Probably. One thing at a time. }

{ Okita and Sieg trying to understand the world together!!! please !! They both have basically come to life and conciseness with adult/teen bodies but absolutely no real world experience, so it could easily turn into absolute chaos from not understanding basic human technology or social principles. Could even be something super simple - like a reading a common children’s book everyone else has already heard a thousand times or learning how to do house chores they’ve never had to do before }

[stutterfly]

Love Bytes 06 | Boolean Logic  | KNJ (M)

Last time on Love Bytes 05: Your friends have good intentions when eavesdropping on your first tinder date. When things don’t go exactly as you imagined, there’s comfort to be found elsewhere. A charming gesture takes your breath away and you find yourself dangerously close to crossing a line you’d never thought of before.

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Word Count: 12.8K

Series: Love Bytes (6/?)

Genre: F2L, fluff, humor, SLOW BURN, friendship feels, ANGST! pining, sexual tension, smut, Bestfriends!au, CollegeProjessor!Namjoon, S O F T Namjoon, did i mention slow burn??? :)

CW: anxiety, panic attacks, some negative self-talk, dirty talk, teasing, grinding, dry-humping

Pairings: Namjoon x Reader, brot7 masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

Do not repost.

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It’s been twenty minutes since Seokjin barged into your apartment and started listing all the things you did wrong on your date. You’d be mortified if you hadn’t already dealt with Yoongi earlier in the evening, telling you much of the same. He’d already covered the basics of looking at your date and given you a touching pep talk about knowing your worth. You’d be double mortified if not for the fact that you’re slightly distracted.

Not even thirty seconds before Jin walked in, you’d willingly put Namjoon in a position to grope your tits and it’s been on a relentless loop that surfaces between every other word Jin has to say. Kim Namjoon. Dorky professor? Firewall enforcer? Clumsy bestie? Thorn in your goddamn side? It’s only consuming every bit of brainpower as you wordlessly nod along to Jin’s lecture about the importance of posture in showcasing one’s demeanor.

Namjoon has been sitting across the room with a plate of half-eaten food before him, growing more amused by the tale Jin spins of your disastrous behaviors. He’s blowing everything way out of proportion, but you can’t muster the energy to fight him on it, not when the gears are grinding so hard to form a solid reasoning behind your earlier actions. But every time your eyes gloss over and you replay the scene in your mind, your stomach forms knots that cause you to repeatedly cross your legs over one another. You’ve done it at least three times now and both men have definitely noticed so you’re consciously fighting the urge to repeat the action.

Jin attributes it to your fidgety nature, tying it back to the way you had squirmed under the scrutiny of your date. “Y/N, I don’t think you’re really getting it. I need you to pretend we’re on a date. Here. Namjoon, be the observer.”

“Gladly,” Namjoon replies, happily slurping up a mess of noodles and fixing his gaze on your reaction.

You don’t even bother wasting a glance on the man on the floor as Jin angles his body towards you. He folds a leg over his lap, plants an elbow on the back of the sofa and rests his cheek on his palm as he leans towards you. The famous panty-dropping smoulder makes an appearance and you can’t help but feel a bit flustered by the intensity he brings to the charade. Your shoulders raise like they might shield you from the attack of such a gorgeous face. “Tell me about yourself, Y/N.”

This is torture.

You drum your fingertips on your thighs and look down at them briefly before remembering your conversation with Yoongi. Nervous eyes tear themselves away from the stubble coming in on your kneecap, forcing you to focus on the piercing gaze of Seokjin.

“Well…” you begin, fully intending to let this play out, but freeze once your eyes land on his face. “Why do you look angry? I can’t talk to you when you look like that.”

“What do you mean? Do I really look angry to you?” Jin’s brow sinks even lower towards the bridge of his nose.

Stifling a giggle, you nod and smack your lips. “It’s good practice if I ever go on a date with grumpy cat. So cute, yet so grumpy.”

You boop him on the nose and he swats your hand away. “Are you going to tell me about yourself or continue to dishonor the memory of grumpy cat?”

A sigh passes your lips. “I don’t know what to say,” you finally admit with a wince. “My life is so boring. Like, what am I supposed to say? Hi, I’m Y/N. I work on people’s computers all day and answer boring emails and support calls. In my free time I like getting drunk and laughing at videos of cats falling off of things, playing video games with friends --most of which are men by the way, is that cool?-- and going for walks at sunset.” You pause and let him take that in. “Ooh, or should I be like every generic profile I’ve seen? I like going on adventures! Hanging with friends! Living my best life. I’m an old soul. Here for a good time, not a long time! EL OH EL hit me up on Snapchat.”

The animated nature of your features quickly fades as you slump against the cushions. “I mean and here I thought I was boring as fuck. But Chul comes along and actually proves to me that I can be topped. And not in the yummy dom way.”

Namjoon chokes on a piece of pork and smacks his chest a few times, successfully dislodging it from the back of his throat.

Jin curiously roams his eyes across your face, flickering back and forth between your eyes and lips. “Ah, so... you prefer to be the sub?”

A heat rises to your cheeks and you know answering is a trap, but the longer his question hangs in the air the more flustered you become. “Are-Are you kidding? Like I’m gonna be the sub. You know I have to control everything.”

Lies are easier to tell when they’re coated with a layer of truth, no matter how thin that layer may be.

“True.” Namjoon swallows, the remnants of his cough sputtering from his mouth.

Jin considers your answer for a moment and grins, flashing you his pearly whites. “So you dom then? What’s that like?”

The other man in the room dribbles water onto his shirt at the question. He’s about ready to give up on breathing altogether. Jin knows it, too. That’s what makes this game so much fun.

You drag your teeth across your lip, trying not to think about the implication that Jin is also not a dom. “So! Enough about me. Tell me about yourself, Jin.”

With that, Seokjin snaps his fingers and points at you. “Ding ding ding! We have a winner! People love to talk about themselves. If you’re out of ideas on what to talk about, ask your date something about himself based on whatever random information you have. Give him a chance to impress you. Take me, for example. I am the head chef at Heart & Seoul, where I give everyone a taste of my heart … and soul. Everyone who has ever tried my food says it reminds them of home. You should come by sometime. I’ll make a plate special for you, courtesy of the handsome god of cookery.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, that’s certainly a statement.”

“Ask me about my food!” he prods, nudging you with his elbow. “Don’t you want to know what kind of plate I’d make for you?”

“Jin, I already know your food is good. I don’t need to ask--”

“It’s Barbe-cute,” he blurts, clearly proud of himself.

“You’re so…” You try to finish the thought but start laughing as he breaks into his own windshield-wiper cackle. A defeated half sigh, half grumble follows the trail where your laughter leaves off. “I just feel like this is the worst part, you know? Trying to explain to people who I am and why I matter. It’s like, on one hand, I don’t care! This is awful! And I don’t have to prove anything to anyone. But then… on the other hand… What if they don’t like me? Like Chul? Chul made up his mind the moment he saw me in person. He didn’t like me and I don’t know that there’s anything I could do to change that. I feel so stupid! ‘Cause I’m like, bro, didn’t you see my photos? Didn’t you look at my profile? Like why you gotta be so judgy when we talked all day?”

The man on the couch next to you uses his large hands to anchor the wrists that you’ve unconsciously been waving around during your tirade. “Okay see, this is what I’m talking about. You need to slow down and stop waving your arms whenever you speak. Imagine you’re a sloth. Slooow motions.” He uses his grip to slowly push you back against the cushion. “Relax.”

You puff air out of your lips indignantly. “Jin, I can’t. I’m not wired like a sloth. I’m more of a...a...” You shake your head, unable to find the word you’re searching for.

“Hummingbird,” Namjoon chimes in quietly, rapidly flapping his fingers up and down to mock you.

Jin laughs at the comparison, pushing you back against the seat when you begin to rise. “Oh, little hummingbird. Sit. Stay.”

Your brow furrows and a pout stains your lips as you comply, rigid shoulders resting flush against the couch.

“Good girl,” Namjoon adds with a snicker.

Ignoring the excitement stirring in your belly at the words, you narrow your eyes at him and he clutches his heart. “Oh wow if looks could kill…”

You finally sigh, dragging your hands down your face. “Jin, I get it. I suck at everything.”

“Oh don’t start that,” he scowls, jabbing your knees with a bony finger. “You’re perfectly fine. You may be a mess but you’re actually a very adorable mess.”

“Fuck off.” You wriggle away from his touch, grimacing at the nod of agreement Namjoon sends your way. “Both of you.”

“I mean it.” Jin laughs between words. “You are a delight, Y/N. Just because you have things you need to work on doesn’t make that any less true. And I'm only telling you that you need to work on these things because you are my dear, dear friend. I want to see you succeed and live your best life." He cocks his head to one side and gives Namjoon a pointed look while you're distractedly glowering. "Especially if you're dating another mess of a human, maybe someone even worse than you. Someone has to have manners. You can't both be terrible at everything."

Jin's eyes snap back to your face as he becomes the focus of your deadpan stare. "Thanks for the pep talk.”

A hand clasps your shoulder and the weight of his arm drapes across the expanse of your back. He uses his grip as leverage to press you against his torso as he scoots closer to you. "Oh, it's okay. You just have to stop trying to knock your date out. Just try to focus on that one thing for your next one okay?”

“I kind of don’t want a next one,” you grumble, allowing your cheek to fall against his collarbone. “Not if it has to feel this bad after every time.”

Wisps of his hair tickle the side of your face as he shakes his head close to yours and tightens the hug. “You don’t give up! You can’t give up! Trust me when I say the next will be better!”

You hum a doubtful note against the fabric of his shirt and push him towards the opposite end of the couch. “If you say so.”

“I know so,” he replies matter-of-factly, catching the antsy circles the chopsticks in Namjoon’s hand are drawing in the noodles left on his plate.

Just like that he begins to feel guilty. There’s something going on here, and he can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s no doubt in his mind that he truly walked in on something he wishes he hadn’t. They’ve all been waiting for him to make a move and now it’s possible that he’s trying. Today was a dud but one thing is certain: it would be so sad to see him lose you to a stranger because he’s too scared to elicit change. Namjoon isn’t going to outright ask him to leave, but it’s written all over his face. Maybe it’s time to let whatever developments have obviously been happening between you two continue.

With a loud sigh and stretch, Seokjin rises from the cushions and makes his way to the door. “Well, I think I’ve made my point. I should get going though. Don’t let this experience bother you too much.”

You spring from the couch and catch the door as he opens it. “I’m fine. Really.”

He shoots you a questioning look but you pull him into a quick hug that allays most of the tension within it. Namjoon unfolds his legs and stands as you exchange goodbyes with Seokjin and usher him out of your apartment with a tired smile.

The door finally closes with a dull thud. Your shoulders deflate with the air in your lungs as you turn the heavy deadbolt. Namjoon’s palms find purchase on the precipice of your shoulders, fingers dipping softly into the crevasse made by your collarbones. You melt back into his touch, throwing your head into his chest when the pleasurable chill of the massage works its way down your spine.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m not that stressed. Really,” you weakly attempt to reason with him, silently wishing he’d never stop. A moan rumbles in your throat, making your brain go numb.

“I know,” he mumbles while continuing the controlled movements of his fingertips. “Fist of Fury sounding good?”

“Mmm, I was thinking about something with more comedy.”

“Way of the Dragon then?” he suggests, gently leading you towards the couch in a slow waddle.

“Please don’t make me watch it in English,” you groan, shuffling in time with his strides. “I don’t think I can take that dub again.”

“Fine, fine. Hold up.” He offers an amused smile as he pushes you towards the sofa as he searches for the DVD in question.

The loss of his touch leaves a chill in its wake and you instinctively pull on the fuzzy blanket scrunched into the gap between cushions. You drape it across your torso and bury your arms underneath just as Namjoon pops the DVD into the xbox below the television. He mindlessly grabs a controller, flicks the lightswitch, and shoves the nearby ottoman with his foot until it’s closing in on the sofa. You react before it can hit your shins.

As he flops onto the cushion beside you, the sensation of your legs brushing against each other has you leaning towards him with a shiver. The startup screen highlights his face as you lift the blanket, offering coverage despite feeling the heat radiating from his body. You just want to feel someone next to you. Much to your surprise, he accepts the offer and huddles in, pressing your bodies close together.

Quelling the shakiness of your exhale, you reach over to grab the controller from his lap. Instead the muscles of his thighs flex as your hand drags across them. You’re already apologizing as you jump in place, retracting your hand as quickly as possible while fumbling to look for the controller. He looks down at your hand and then back up to your face, silently pursing his lips as he drops the controller into your palm.

"Sorry," you mumble again as you navigate through the menus, not daring to peek over at his face.

"Don't worry about it," he whispers, sprawling an arm over the couch cushion behind you. His fingertips lazily tap against the contour of your shoulder, wishing that the t-shirt was smaller, thinner, something that could expose more of your skin beneath the blanket.

You fail to contain the deep inhale that causes your chest to rise and slowly breathe out the nerves constricting your lungs. As you start the movie and set the controller on the armrest, you turn your head to look at him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he parrots back at you. The warmth of his leg presses into your thigh, serving as a reminder of the wetness between yours.

“About earlier, I…” you trail off, unable to finish the statement. The needy touch-starved thoughts haven’t yet worn off and you curse your brain for letting you taint your friendship with impure thoughts of the man beside you. How could you possibly tell him that you weren’t thinking clearly before when you still want him to touch you, when your pussy clenches any time he pushes his body against you? The familiar sound of the title music fills the silence.

“Don’t worry about it,” he repeats softly. “Let’s just… watch Bruce Lee, hmm?”

His words somehow simultaneously bring you comfort and disappointment. You smile and nod, shifting your attention back to the television, though you can feel the feathery touch of his fingertips flirting with the hem of your sleeve seconds later. As you shift in your seat to relax your head against him, that same touch trails up your shoulder to brush a mess of hair from your neck before settling comfortably in the space between them. You chuckle at the old woman staring down Bruce Lee as your eyelids grow heavy. There’s no way you were even going to make it five minutes in, but you attempt it anyway.

“She lookin’ at him like a snack.” You’re relying on your thirst to keep yourself awake. “I agree.”

Namjoon snorts. “She’s looking at him like she’s gonna call the cops. Are we watching the same movie?”

“My bad. I’m self-inserting for granny,” you murmur, voice growing wearier by the syllable.

“Are you already falling asleep? We can watch it another night if you’re tired.” You can feel his eyes boring into the top of your skull as your eyelashes flutter against his chest.

“No,” you argue weakly, not bothering to lift your head to meet his gaze.

“I can feel you closing your eyes.”

“No,” you say again with a slight shake of your head that doubles as an excuse to nuzzle into the warmth of his chest.

“So if I took my phone out right now and snapped a pic, your eyes wouldn’t be closed?”

“Nope.”

“Not nice to lie,” he teases softly, smoothing the hair back from your forehead.

“Shhh, don’t talk during movies. You’re missing the part with the soups.”

He cradles your head with a scoff, resisting the urge to impart a goodnight kiss to the top of it as you obviously doze off. Your arm falls into his lap with the sound of a dull ‘pat’. Immediately his hand carefully draws yours away from the danger zone and sets it loosely over his. The gentle twitch of your digits against his palm beckon him to lace your fingers together. Butterflies wrack their way through his stomach and he soon complies, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as he does so.

Do you realize what you do to him? Probably not. Being here feels like walking a tightrope that he keeps wobbling back and forth on. But leaving would kill the adrenalin rush and leave him with nothing. He’d take the highwire any day if it meant there was a chance you could be waiting on the other side.

He’s determined to make it further into the movie, and he has every intention of nudging you awake, but not even five minutes later his eyelids droop and his neck bends back over the top cushion.

Just a few minutes. I’ll wake her up in a few minutes.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The change in volume from the end credits to the top menu of the DVD catapults you from slumber. You groan as you crane your stiff neck up towards the open-mouthed, snoring man whose warm chest you’ve been napping on. The grin creeping across your face threatens to break into a giggle, but you muzzle the sound before it can leave your throat.

The haze of sleep still clouds your mind and as your eyes travel up the dark skin that stretches up to his jaw, empty cravings for intimacy permeate the fog. Your head lolls back down and you scrunch your cheek against the base of his throat with a shaky exhale before turning towards him. You skim your lips over the muscles in his neck, shivering at the thought of pressing down. Pushing away the growing urge to suction your mouth down on his flesh, you lightly tap the side of his cheek. “Joonie.”

He groans loudly as he lifts his head off the cushion, but offers no other words of acknowledgement. Discomfort spreads across his features, brow knotting as he palms the back of his sore neck. His other hand firmly wraps itself around your knuckles, subconsciously dragging your palm across his lap as he stretches his limbs out. Heavy arms come back down and constrict you in a sleepy hug; the comfort it brings threatens to take you back into the world of slumber, but you shake off the impulse to close your eyes again.

“I’m gonna go to bed,” you announce softly against his white t-shirt, basking in the warmth of his embrace.

He peers down at you through dark, half-lidded eyes and struggles to bring a response to the forefront of his mind. You trace your fingers along the contours of his jaw, causing him to lean into your sleepy caress. Before you can register the movement, his lips graze the precipice of your forehead and your stomach lurches into a somersault at the sensation. Wait. Did he just...?

The bubble of his dream-state finally pops. Suddenly everything feels too real. His eyes widen and his heart drops, desperately wishing he could awaken from this moment panting and sweating within the confines of his bedroom. Is there a chance you’re not aware of his embarrassing mistake? He pulls back and the sharp sound of his lips smacking together awkwardly fills the room as the menu loop resets.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, abashed features straining to look anywhere else. “I’m gonna go.” He shifts uncomfortably, wriggling out from beneath your form, but your fingers reach out and curl around the solid mass of his forearm.

“Stay,” you whisper. “Please?”

You can’t fight the way your heart is pounding, desperate to feel the tickle of butterflies in your stomach at least one more time, to find your hand enveloped in his warm, comforting grasp. Deep, dark eyes settle on yours, searching for any excuse to decline such a tempting offer. When he comes up empty, you also find yourself at a loss for words and you shake your head, trying to come up with some explanation for the blurry lines you’ve been drawing all over your friendship with him.

You rationalize that it’s not crazy to find comfort in the arms of a good friend. How many times has Jennie kissed your forehead without meaning anything by it? How many times have you held hands with her and platonically snuggled up together? Is it really so different now that Namjoon is the one beside you?

Your mind flashes back to the moments leading up to Seokjin’s arrival. You were the one to guide him towards you. Your lips never touched, and you refuse to accept the fraction of your brain that screams of its disappointment. The fact that you got close enough to expose the possibility of Namjoon as a makeout partner is a thought you’re struggling to bury. That’s what makes him different. That’s what makes it difficult to let him leave.

You know it’s selfish, but there’s a shred of something that you can’t allow yourself to acknowledge. Until you fill the void of a relationship in your life, or sex at the very least, maybe this is exactly what you need. It’s harmless, really. Just a comforting snuggle buddy. It’s harmless... right? You ask yourself again, the echo of his heavy breaths fresh in your mind. The memory plays again: one hand clasps around his neck and pulls him down towards you, the other guiding him teasingly towards the lace of your bra as your noses brush against each other; it’s enough to set your cheeks on fire but not enough to retract the offer.

“Don’t leave. Please, just… Just lay with me again?” you plead quietly. Could you sound more pathetic? There’s never been a more appropriate time to wish you were built like a computer, or at least something you could flush the short term memory from, but here you are: painfully human and seeking complacency.

You keep your eyes fixed on him as you rise, his expression never falling into the expected air of pity. Shock. Confusion. Maybe even relief. But never the pity you anticipate. The television coats his features with a soft glow and your shoulders instinctively relax as his smile molds shadowed dimples along either side of his mouth. The word of affirmation that escapes him is barely audible over the sound of the tv.

The room grows dark and silent all too fast as you tap the power button on the back of the screen. Warmth radiates from his hand as it trails down your arm, finally twining itself between your fingers as he waits for you to lead the way. Of course he’s memorized the steps to your bedroom, but he’s not about to let impatience reveal the alacrity within.

It’s no trouble to navigate in the darkness and you find yourself needlessly tugging him closer. You’re quick to hide your own eagerness under the guise of fatigue, forcing a loud yawn from your mouth as you flop back into the center of the bed. He stumbles forward a bit before catching himself on the soft mattress, quietly climbing onto it as though the weight of his body will shatter its molecular structure.

Tonight the moon is blocked by the clouds in the sky, and the unusual pitch black nature of the room is a little unnerving. It’s easy to imagine shadows moving when you can’t see anything clearly. Before you can burden yourself with unnecessary anxiety, Namjoon’s palms are dipping into the mattress on either side of you, parallel to your waist. You can feel him ascending like a silent panther, closing in on his prey. Stale air hitches in your throat as he hovers above you, a delicately placed knee sinking into the space between your thighs.

The heat from his core sears shameful desire into the surface of your flesh and you attempt to close your legs. The inside of your soft thighs squeeze against the unexpected muscular mass of his, trapping him just below the wetness you’re refusing to acknowledge. It doesn’t take long for you to become keenly aware that if he leans any further up he will be wearing it and you press your legs even tighter together, despite knowing the barrier of muscle between them makes the task impossible.

Your palm reaches up to find his face, curling under his jaw to cup his chin in a playful venture to diffuse the tension in the air. It’s closer than you expect. There’s a strange relief in the realization that he can’t see the way your jaw falls open. That relief quickly dissipates when his plump lips press against the pad of your thumb, causing your sharp inhale to cut through the white noise of the fan nearby.

He laughs softly, breath hitting your skin in puffs as your fingernail scrapes against his upper lip. This position is not exactly ideal, considering the erection beginning to form in his boxers. With one leg trapped between your thighs and the other plunging into the mattress beside you, all it would take is one lazy dip of his pelvis to allow you to feel how you affect him.

“What are you doing?” You find your voice, but it sounds hoarse and foreign, and you make no effort to hide the accusation dripping from your own guilty lips.

“I…” His heart drops to his stomach. What is he doing? The more time that passes leaves the memory of you on the couch feeling increasingly surreal, like a cruel joke originating from a desperate imagination that he’s foolish enough to believe. He squeezes his eyes shut, struggling to think of something that will fix this mess. The rain pattering against the window is soothing and it tries to wash the awkwardness from the air, but it’s not enough.

Then a lightbulb goes off, and his hand is already gently bringing yours down to the mattress. His voice is even, despite the humiliation coursing through him. “I dropped your defenses.”

“You what…?” Before you can contemplate the meaning behind his words, his hand tightens around your wrist, pressing it into the soft mess of blankets beneath you with his full weight. You strain against his grip as he begins playfully jabbing at your waist with his free hand. You scrunch your hips towards your elbow as you swat fervently in the direction of his arm to no avail.

Strong, stubborn fingers poke and prod all of the sensitive spots he’d briefly had the pleasure to acquaint himself with. You do your best to keep the laughter from spilling out, but he isn’t satisfied by the restraint you’re showing. The noises he wrenched from you earlier had been so delicious and he’s desperate to pull more, so he dares to pinch his fingers at the tender crease in your skin between your thigh and hip.

You buck your hips and cry out at the sensation, the fabric of your shorts riding up just enough to grant his fingertips access to the outermost edge of your panties. His eyes roll into the back of his skull for a fraction of a second, reveling in his success. Your hand clamps down on his bicep, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks. He would be hissing and backing off if not for the delectable sound of you stammering out a slew of pleases on repeat.

Are two fingers all it takes to make you beg me? He muses, pleased with the visual he’s created for himself in the darkness. He can feel his cock poking out from the hole in his boxers, sensitive head sliding against the soft fabric of his sweatpants.

“Joonie, please! I’m gonna--” A snort escapes the back of your throat and you choke back a gross fit of giggles as his fingers twitch against the cotton fringe beneath your shorts. “It’s too much!”

Those are definitely a string of phrases he’s going to file away for later. He licks his lips before loudly smacking them, enjoying the fact that you can’t see the devilish smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Really? ‘Cause, uh, I don’t feel a thing.”

His thumb and forefinger pinch against your flesh in that same sensitive area, ripping another uncontrollable cackle from you. Even in the darkness, it’s easy to tell that you’ve got tears in your eyes from the way you’re pleading with him. Your clammy fingers slide along the lean muscles in his bicep, tapping him repeatedly as though a referee will appear and save you from his relentless fingers. Your head falls back and you half-bury your face into a pillow to muffle the way you’re howling beneath him.

“Please, please, please,” you beg between pained wheezes, hopelessly bucking your hips up towards his. “I’ll do anything. Please. Please. Please. Please. Namjoon...”

He does his best to avoid your frenzied thrusts, dodging to the left and right to keep his now rock hard dick from touching any part of you. But the breathless way you’re pleading and panting against the pillows has him melting, daring him to grind his aching cock on your hips. His fingers slowly drag a delicate path away from the cotton he’d been trying to build the courage to do something more bold with. They trace invisible teasing lines downward and the abs hidden beneath your soft layers of flesh finally stop contracting. This time the final laugh that escapes you trails off into a breathy moan, body flaring with desire for more contact while simultaneously fatigued from twinging and fighting against his mischievous digits. Namjoon’s form lingers above you in the darkness with your crass groan refusing to leave his eardrums.

Hot breath fans the shell of your ear, his already deep voice somehow dropping an octave lower as the gravel in his throat fights the word bubbling out from it. “Anything...?”

Why does he keep doing that? It’s driving you insane. You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice take on this tone before tonight, even in jest, and it’s making your ears ring with how hard they’re now straining to take in more of that delicious, gruff whisper. You have no choice but to hold your breath to quiet the exhale that threatens to reveal the lust coating your thoughts.

Just as you’re certain he’s about to drop his weight onto your thigh and expose the wetness soaking through your shorts, Namjoon pulls his head back with a loud contented sigh, flopping down onto the mattress beside you. Maybe he’s just giving you a taste of your own medicine. Can you blame him after all the mixed messages you’ve been sending? You’ve been filling pretty much every conversation with sexual tension lately; it makes sense that he would try to dish some back at you.

In your defense, Tinder hasn’t exactly been the fun, liberating experience you’d been promised by the app’s promotional messaging, and your frustrations are starting to become palpable. Even your vibrator can’t keep up with the rollercoaster highs of your sex drive right now. Poor Joon is just caught in the middle of a very, very bad drought and you’ll be damned if you let your friendship become a casualty of your desire for a little rain.

Coward. The thought reverberates against his skull hard enough to make him shake his head as he props himself up on one elbow.

“Help me hook my laptop to my TV so I can watch movies on the big screen,” he says, cutting through the self-loathing. Knowing you’re glaring at him in the dark, he pauses. “What? You said anything.”

“Just get a Firestick. They make those things specifically for people like you. I don’t need your incompetent ass calling me every time you can’t get it working.”

“You always gotta be rude about everything?” he tuts. “Besides, Firestick ain’t gonna help with what I want to do.”

The conversation allows you to forget the shame dripping out of you and you flip onto your side to more comfortably counter his point. “You can get every YouTube video on the planet on that thing. Not to mention Hulu, Netflix, PrimeVideo… Like, you can get anything you want to watch at the push of a few buttons. Well, everything except…” you trail off, the gears in your head spinning fast enough to come undone.

He swallows, knowing you’re about to call him out. “I don’t need a Firestick,” he reiterates.

Your cheeks flush. Porn. Of course it’s porn. Just another thought you don’t need floating around your head: Namjoon jerkin’ it to whatever weird shit he’s into. Honestly, you’re almost afraid to touch the laptop with how much he’s probably used it for that specific purpose.

“Of course not.” You sigh as your palm pushes him back against the bed, eager to just forget the night and feel the same way you did last week. “You’re gross.”

He huffs at the accusation, even though he admits to himself you’re completely right and doesn’t audibly argue the point. He also doesn’t fight the way you force him down, resting his head against a soft pillow as the weight of yours comes down onto his chest. Instinctually, his arm reaches around you, pulling you closer with his fingers tented against the small of your back. You shiver into his t-shirt, briefly catching the scent of his deodorant before closing your eyes.

“So, that’s a no then?” he asks dejectedly, voice rumbling up through the ear you’ve got pressed to his chest.

You chuckle into him as you nuzzle your face back and forth a few times, reveling in the way it feels to be in such a comfortable position with another person, even if it is Namjoon. “I guess I can do it since you’re indulging me right now... I won’t tell if you don’t?”

His fingertips move down your back to idly play with the band of your shorts, tracing lazy lines across them. You tense, taking all the self control you currently possess to stop from grinding your hips into his thigh.

He hums in response, finally resting his hand respectfully above the fabric of the t-shirt at your waist. “Okay,” he whispers.

You lay together in silence, listening to the increased assault of raindrops at your window. Normally with the fan going like this you’d be feeling chilly and be rushing to pull a blanket over you, but with the heat coming off of him in waves, you’re feeling rather warm, almost sweaty. It feels like the breath in your lungs isn’t enough and you take in a few deep, noticeable inhales and exhales. Your heart is pounding like you just ran some kind of incredible marathon.

“Y/N… You ok?” Even sleepy, you can still hear the concern dripping from his tone.

You take in a couple more hungry breaths. It almost feels like a panic attack sneaking up on you. But why now? You’re not even doing anything worth freaking out about. Is it the stress of the day? Is it the embarrassment?

“Yeah… Just...anxiety...” you manage to pant out weakly, your chest heaving frantically for more air. “I’m sorry."

He fishes for your hand in the darkness, turning his face down towards the top of your head to plant a small, innocent kiss there. “Shhh, shhh, I got you. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, trembling fingers gripping his with a sense of urgency, like at a moment’s notice he’ll melt away and you’ll be left alone. “Don’t leave, okay?”

He twines his steady fingers between yours. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. You’re okay. Try to breathe deeply. I’ll be right here.” He starts to inhale loudly, causing your head to rise with each deep fill of his lungs, and fall with his audible exhales.

Over the course of a few minutes, your breathing aligns with his, and you’re even holding at the same moments to help your body relax. When you seem stable, he wants to say something comforting, but simply gives your hand a gentle squeeze once he recognizes the soft snore leaving your mouth.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Joonie, did you clean your apartment before I came over?” you’re eyeing the spotless nature of his abode suspiciously. “Since when do you not throw your shirts wherever?”

He smiles, pleased with himself as he folds his arms and crosses the room before sinking into the couch. “Since you always complain about it.”

You stare him down incredulously. “It’s just… I’m shocked. It’s so unlike you.”

“What?” He scoffs. “Are you seriously gonna complain now that my place is clean?”

“Hmph. Where’s your laptop?” you question,

He pulls it from the folds in the couch cushion sheepishly. “Hold up.” He’s opening it and typing in the password as you flop down next to him.

“If you seriously left porn on here knowing I was coming over to do this, that’s on you. Gimme. I wanna see what fucked up shit Professor Kim gets off to.”

He tries to cover the screen, but you can still see the raunchy frozen frame beneath his splayed fingers. Your eyebrows raise, taking in the sight of a nude woman’s body straddling a well-endowed man on a black leather couch. It’s tough to push back the smile fighting through your pursed lips. “Couch cowgirl, huh?”

“You know…” He fumbles to close the tab and thrusts the computer into your lap, clearly embarrassed at the thought of you seeing any of that. “I don’t stand over your shoulder judging your porn choices.”

You shake your head and scoff. “What makes you so sure I watch porn?”

“I know you,” he groans, rolling his eyes.

“I’m sorry!” You laugh, beginning to navigate to the display settings. “I’m not judging. It’s just a little more tame than I was expecting.”

“You’re judging,” he declares finitely. “And what the hell are you expecting anyway? What kind of fucked up shit are you into, hmm?”

Your face flushes and you stop typing. He laughs. “See? Just that reaction there tells me you’re one hundred times worse than me. You’re just better at hiding your search history.”

You swallow hard and snap the laptop shut. “Joon, you knew I was coming over to do this today. You had all night to clear out your embarrassing stuff. It’s not my fault you’re a dumbass.”

He starts to quietly interject. “Actually, my IQ is--”

“I don’t care what your IQ is. You’re not goading me into telling you my porn preferences. I’m just here to help you get your laptop hooked up.”

“Is that why you’ve closed it?” he asks with a smirk.

You blink at him a few times. “N-No.”

He laughs again and you can feel your face burning, knowing that he’s pridefully drinking in the sight of your mistake. “Don’t worry. You don’t need to say a thing.” He leans in, closer than you expect and begins speaking in a low, gravelly whisper that freezes you in place. “I already know what you like.”

You do your best to keep your breathing steady, but it quickly turns into a sputtering mess when he cups your chin and trails his index finger down your neck, stopping just above your breast bone. With no effort at all, he guides you down with the press of his finger until you’re laying flat on your back. He steadies himself over you with a strong arm that sinks into the cushion beside your face, effectively boxing you in as he descends.

“You like it when I take control,” he announces, an unfamiliar confidence in his husky tone. “Don’t you?”

At this point, you know your jaw is trembling as it hangs stupidly open. Every word you can think of dies on your tongue as his free hand draws a line beneath your t-shirt, up your belly and teases the lace trim around one of your breasts. You shiver as he drags his fingertips back and forth in the valley between your tits, growing more and more desperate for him to reach beneath one of the cups and take you into his hand. Chest heaving, you turn your gaze away, hoping he will spare you the embarrassment of looking into his eyes with the hunger in yours.

“Yes,” you whisper weakly, knowing he’s got you. If Jimin has been teaching him how to play Chicken, he has taken it to the next level and it’s gone past the point where you think you’re able to willfully extricate yourself from the situation.

His hand shoots up from beneath your shirt to clasp your jaw, forcing your face back into position. “Look at me when you answer.“

You let a tiny moan slip at the rough contact and your eyelids flutter for a moment before meeting his gaze. His eyes are dark and eager, pupils blown out to the size of dinner plates, perfectly set to devour you. You need it now. You need him now.

“Yes…” you whimper. His hand drops like lightning down beneath your bra, molding as much of your tit as his strong grip can manage.

“Fuck yes,” you breathe, clasping your arms around his neck and desperately bringing him down to meet your lips.

He moans into your mouth as he comes crashing down, greedily sucking the air from your lungs with every last taste he imparts. The hand that had been supporting his weight tangles itself in your hair as you buck your hips up into him, thirsty for more of whatever he’ll give you. The rocking passage of your hips causes him to mirror the motion, grinding his thigh deliciously up against your clit. You mouth falls open with the need to take in air at the sudden friction in your jeans. He uses the opportunity to slip his himself past the barrier of your teeth and deep into your mouth, gliding his tongue across the surface of your own.

While this has never been a thought that’s crossed your mind in the past, you can’t imagine not knowing his taste. And yet when you try to describe it and pin down his delectable nature, it slips away. Your lips crash harder around his, hopelessly searching for the moment that your thirst will be quenched and never finding it. You want him more than you ever thought possible, in any way possible. It’s like he’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time, flooding all of your senses with a ravenous need that refuses to fade, even as you drink him in again and again.

As he pinches a pebbled nipple between his fingers, you whine through a gasp and fight to bite at his bottom lip, sucking it through your teeth. You hold him in place long enough for him to prop himself up on the couch and move back. Like hell if you were going to let him have all the power.

“Please,” he groans through gritted teeth, sounding incredibly vulnerable. It’s like music to your ears. You drag your teeth over his lip slowly one last time before letting it snap back to him.

With an ease you’re not used to, you’re able to push him back and sit up, carefully untangling your legs and rising from the couch. He’s about to pull you back towards him when you point to the middle of the couch. “Sit there.”

His adam’s apple bobs a few times, dark hunger never leaving the spark in his eyes as he positions himself as instructed. Clasping the outside of his knees, you force them closer together as you straddle his lap. With your legs spread like this, you can smell how wet and ready your pussy is, so you know damn well that he can too. You should be embarrassed and hiding your face in shame. You should be, but you’re not.

Your fingers knot themselves in his hair as you slowly roll your hips across his lap. Your voice is low and husky, filled with messy impatience. You’re ready to fall apart at his hands if he’d let you, but first you want him to know how it feels. “Is this how you like it, Namjoon? Is this what you want?”

A sharp inhale gives you your answer, but you continue to roll your hips just above his lap, hoping to elicit an erection. He groans as he buries his face into your neck, sliding his hot tongue over a particularly sensitive area and latching himself on. You realize you’re going to buckle quickly under the ecstasy you’re not used to feeling. Feeling reckless and bold, you reach down into his sweatpants, grasping for the cock you know has to be rock solid at this point.

Your hand clumsily slides against the gray band at his waist, unable to even clutch the drawstrings in your haste. The harder you try, the more your fingers seem to tangle in them. Soon you find yourself trapped, unable to move your hands away from the gray material they’ve become encased within. Using the brunt of your shoulder, you force Namjoon off your neck and much to your horror the laughter spilling out of him becomes squeaky like a windshield wiper.

“Wooow!” Jin’s disappointed voice has you breaking out in a cold sweat, frozen as you take in the broad shoulders dressed in Namjoon’s clothes before you. “Are my eyes deceitful like you? How many times have I asked if you had feelings for him? And now I catch you like this? What do you mean, none? I’m sure I asked at least once!”

As you shake the hair from your eyes and try to break free, the horror intensifies as the man before you morphs into a giggling Hoseok.

“Tsk-tsk-tsk. Dirty girl,” he chides, bringing his arms around your neck. “How long has it been? Have you forgotten how? I can help you remember if you want.”

You shut your eyes, trying to wish the temptuous voice away, but when you open them it’s now Jungkook staring at you, cackling. “Showing him your tits wasn’t enough, noona? You want him to touch you too?”

He tuts as he leans forward, and you begin to slide from his lap, which seems to be growing larger and steeper by the second. You’re desperately trying to get your hands free so you don’t fall, but it’s no use; you can feel yourself slipping away.

“Oh, are you stuck?” His obnoxious guffaw echoes into the darkness encroaching the apartment. “Well, since I’m a nice guy, let me help you with that. I’m really good with straps.”

He stands and you feel yourself fall, but he catches you by your bound hands, causing your elbows to knock against your head. You feel about 2 feet tall in his clutches as he suspends you in the air with one hand. The other starts pulling on the tangle of gray drawstrings, causing your body to twist in his grasp. With a sharp tug, he has you completely unraveling in a dizzy haze. You clamp your eyes shut again to avoid the vertigo jeopardizing the stability of your stomach contents.

You hang in Jungkook’s grasp, his cackle reverberating through your skull as you feel a gentle breeze caressing your body. As you open your eyes and look down, you realize you’re completely naked, and as you fight against his hold, your body spins. You’re face to face with Taehyung, his eyes cold and calculating as they roam across your body, searching for imperfections. He cocks his head to the side, wearing an expression of granite as his eyes slowly, painfully ascend your exposed flesh.

He blinks at you a few times before breaking into a boxy smile. “Wow. I’m glad we kept your clothes on.”

As you recover from the sting of his words, you fight against Jungkook’s grasp and attempt to swipe at Taehyung’s gorgeous face. As he leans back, his visage morphs into Yoongi, who stands there looking perplexed by your current predicament.

“Hobi’s right. You are easy, aren’t you?” He quirks an eyebrow and turns away, his form evaporating into the darkness.

Again you fight against the man holding you in place. This time you fall, but you land softly against a couch cushion with the cheshire grin of Jimin looming over you.

“Oh, Y/N… You went home with Namjoon-hyung, hmm? I thought you liked me?” His smile quickly falls into a rare scowl, all traces of mirth absent in his stone gaze. The jealous venom biting in his tone causes you to wince. “It’s fine. I have better options.”

“I know,” you whisper, closing your eyes and allowing the tears to fall, attempting to descend further into the cushion.

Your body congeals into the cushion, slowly melting through it and sending you hurling into the darkness. Your knees hit a hard surface with a loud crack, but it doesn’t hurt. Nothing hurts like the words in your head. You know they’re right.

A spotlight appears over you, drawing attention to your lack of clothing and you clutch your knees to your chest to cover yourself as best you can. As you look around for an exit, you notice a mirror running along the wall behind you, taller than you can even fathom. Quick to disregard the sight of yourself, you turn around and there’s another one waiting ahead of you. Glancing around the room again yields dozens and dozens of mirrors in every direction. There’s nowhere you can even pretend to hide.

So you stand, tears stinging your eyes from the heartbreak of the truths you keep telling yourself. You shuffle over to the nearest mirror, feeling like your feet are sinking into sand and unable to fully rise with each step. Your reflection stares back at you: tired, cold, tear-stricken. You exhale and shove at the glass, unhappy with the person you see staring back at you. Instead of shattering or at least cracking like you expect, the glass bends in and bounces back, forcefully sending you into the mirror behind you. Your back lands against the hard surface and you slide down, allowing yourself to just sit and cry.

As you hug your knees close to your chest again, a fuzzy warmth envelops you. Clutching at the soft blanket that covers your body, you look up to see Namjoon’s dimpled smile starting back at you. He lowers himself to his knees and embraces you from behind, arms cradling you, lulling you into a place of comfort. It’s only when you stare ahead again that you can see the smile now gracing your own features.

He always finds a way to help, doesn’t he? With a contented sigh, you turn your body to gently bring your lips to meet his. The warmth of his body floods yours once more.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You awaken to your lips pressed against something hard. Your eyelids flutter a few times and you can just barely make out the shape of Namjoon’s arm pressing into your cheek. You must have rolled away from him in your sleep. Thank God. The sweat that trickles down your neck somehow runs cold and you shiver, tugging at the blanket covering your shoulders that was definitely not there when you closed your eyes. With a few deep breaths, you attempt to calm your heartbeat. You’re in your room. None of that was real. You’re safe.

Gently wiping your saliva from his forearm, you carefully shift your weight and turn your body to face him. Thankfully, he appears to still be sleeping, half tucked beneath the same blanket. What do you know? Even the human heater must get chilly sometimes.

Your heart still pounds wildly against your ribcage; it’s so loud that you’re almost afraid the sound will rouse him from slumber, but he lays peacefully beside you. There’s a hint of moonlight breaking through the clouds, and it casts just enough light to illustrate how angelic his features look while reposed. With the dream still fresh in your mind, you feel the need to reach out and make sure this is real. 

Your hand gently glides through his hair before cupping his cheek and stroking it with your thumb. You catch yourself wondering how you might explain the action, should he awaken at this moment. For now, all that matters is the tranquility the subtle movement provides; it coaxes you into security. As your heartbeat calms, you rest your head on his chest. There’s a dull thumping that you can feel beneath your palm and you swear time stills as you lose yourself in its soothing cadence. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Sunshine can’t seem to clear the clouds enough to illuminate the room. It still feels like it could be too early to rise, but the sound of birds chirping over the soft patter of rain lets you know that it’s later than you might believe. You blink a few times, irritated that you’re rising at all on a Saturday morning when you could be sleeping the day away. It’s not like you have anything planned. As you stretch your spine straight up, a pair of lean, muscular arms constrict your chest and waist, lazily pulling you back into a prime spooning position. 

You lightly massage the pair of forearms pinning you in place with oblivious fingertips. That’s right. Joonie’s still here.

He’s careful to keep your form from his pelvis, knowing that it wouldn’t take much for you to feel the stiff bulge tucked into the band of his sweatpants. Whatever alternate dimension he’d stumbled into last night had given plenty of fuel for his fantasies: your moans, your touch, and kiss you had nearly shared. 

But with the gray fragments of daybreak twinkling through the blinds, reality has to kick in at some point. He knows there’s no way you would pass up the opportunity to make fun of him should you feel even the tip at your back. Now’s not the time to tempt the luck of the universe, not when he has you like this.

You do your best to ignore the blush creeping across your cheeks as you settle in, lacing your fingers with a firm squeeze to his. He lifts his head and sleepily sets it in the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning the surface of your skin and giving you new chills with each exhale. "Morning, Geeksquad."

You hum in response, leaning back into the sensation. He breathes deeply, taking in the subtle mingling scents that linger on your form: the hint of lilac conditioner in your hair, the traces of moisturizer on your skin, the remnants of perfume spritzed some time ago, and the fragrance he can’t place as anything other than “you.” He could stay here for hours just breathing you in, trying to figure it out, but any description would fall short of capturing its perfection.

The tickle of his breath at your neck causes to you shake your head against the pillow a few times, attempting to hide the smile curling the corners of your mouth. You’re content with the scene staying as it is and you’re almost relaxed enough to drift back to sleep when the ceiling above you allows the first long creak to break through the quiet of your bedroom. Then another. And another. Soon there’s a steady familiar squeaking of the bed frame in the apartment above. An awkward silence falls between you both, but quickly fills with a rhythmic squeaking.

It was too much to hope that the noisy neighbors could put off their sexcapades until you weren’t in a compromising position with a friend. You side-eye the light fixture above you as it rattles in time with the sound of the headboard now hitting the wall. You know from experience that the noises will dull in time, but it doesn’t make right now any better.

Just as you’re about to say something, there’s a slew of loud “yes”es that cut through the room. Not daring to look back at Namjoon now, you scrunch your face into a grimace and silently pray for the bed to fall through the ceiling and crush you. Neither of you are willing to say anything, either embarrassed or enthralled by the lewd visions plaguing you as a result of the sounds above.

While you can't recall the most recent dream to grace your subconscious, an encore of the previous one pervades your thoughts. The image of Namjoon feeling you up as you make out like a couple of horny teenagers has you squeezing your thighs together and tensing your body against him. 

Desire charts a course from your brain straight down to your pussy, the noises descending from the ceiling only serving to heighten the fantasy. The thought of him cupping your tits and pulling you back into his chest creeps into your mind with every second you spend tucked beneath his arms.

You bite your lip and stretch again, this time purposefully nudging your ass into him with a forced yawn. Even through a heavy knit layer of cotton, you feel the hard shape that butts up against you. A soft, sleepy groan croaks out from the base of his throat, which only allows the perverse reverie to further take over. 

Dropping his forehead against you, a heavy, tight-lipped grumble sends vibrations up your neck. This, combined with the creaking bed frame and muffled moans from above, sends a hot, prickly wave of adrenaline surging through you. A restrained puff of air forces its way through his nostrils as his nose sweeps against the sensitive spot at the base of your neck.

Your pussy clenches at the sound of his weakness, like the gravitational pull of your soaking cunt can draw in his cock if those muscles deep inside can contract hard enough. You're hyper aware of the way your shorts are riding up, removing that extra barrier between you both, but you're too worked up at this point to care. 

You reach back, wordlessly carding your fingers through his hair. The action elicits another faint moan into the flesh of your neck, sending the high of your adrenalin to new heights. Silent, jagged breaths wrack the outline of your chest as he tightens his arm's hold on your waist. 

He makes a fist to keep himself from grabbing your hips, knuckles trembling against your belly and clearly struggling to keep things PG. But you're not having it, not after the dreams that have plagued you and the filthy things running through your mind. Hoping to lure another lewd sound from him, you wiggle your hips and shimmy your shoulders to provide the cover that perhaps you're trying to get comfortable. His fist opens and desperate fingers sink into the flesh beneath your t-shirt.

It's not a request, but a harsh demand in the form of a whisper against the shell of your ear that leaves you absolutely quaking beneath him. "You don't want to keep doing that."

The subdued whimper crawling up your throat nearly dies behind pursed lips before transforming into a pleased hum. Your hips seem to have a mind of their own, rising to challenge what may or may not be a bluff, and slowly grind back into the erection firmly planted at your backside. You're too enticed by the possibility of a gratifying answer to stop the word falling from your mouth. "Why?"

That definitely came out brattier than intended. A swarm of angry butterflies pump their way through your system. Their fluttering clogs the path to your brain that tends to lean towards subtlety. Dull fingernails dig into the skin at your hip and shoulder tight enough to leave marks. His hips thrust forward for the first time, slowly dragging the mass of his cock up your ass and then back down in delicious, languid strokes.

You hold back the moan building in your throat and a sharp sigh chokes its way past your lips instead. The subsequent needy, ragged inhales fill the space around you. Your back arches while your hips remain in place, causing your chest to rise as you knot your fingers in his hair. When you throw your head back and close your eyes, he bites his lip to quell the urge to pepper kisses along your exposed neck. His restraint is admirable, but the toll it takes on him is palpable at this point.

“I think you know why,” he accuses in a low whisper, dropping his forehead against you again and halting the stroke of his hips.

“I won’t tell… if you don’t,” you promise, your chest about ready to cave in on itself from the amount of pressure his arm is now squeezing into it.

Feeling brave, you offer one more subtle roll of your hips, tempting him to follow the provocative pattern. Now he’s the one who tenses. He’s still, holding his breath for just a moment in disbelief as the dull sound of the lovers above cut through the air. Then you feel the sliding of his palm across your abdomen and a greedy exhale at your ear. Fingers dig into your flesh, holding you in place as he answers your unspoken question with gentle rock of his hips. You respond with hungry need, clasping your hands over both of his as the rhythm of your bodies begin to sync.

He lets you lead the campaign to your mutual destruction. If this is hell then he’s happy to be the fiery tide at the back of a devil disguised as a moon goddess. His hips ebb and flow against whatever pace you set as you listen to the lovers upstairs and soon you find yourself wishing for more. You feel as though at any given moment his cock is going to spring free and rub against the meat of your ass-- and you're ashamed to admit that you couldn't be more turned on by the thought. 

His fingers start to tease the band of your shorts as he rocks himself against your ass, savoring the way you’re panting. He slows his pace without realizing as he drifts into his own fucked-out daydream. It becomes clear you’re at his mercy when you whimper his name at his unintentionally lazy thrusts. The tides have turned.

You’re definitely about to say something you might regret --as if you didn’t have enough of that going on already. Your dripping cunt urges you to beg, to plead with him to go farther. You’ll set up as much porn on his TV as he wants. But right now, you want to be touched so badly you feel like you’re going to explode. “Please.”

What he wouldn’t give to hear you say that again. He hooks a finger beneath the fabric at your waist and dips his tongue out to wet his lips, which deliberately skims your neck. This time you moan and he finds himself echoing the sentiment as he decides he’s going to take his time with you and pull out as many “please”s as you’ll give him. 

You jump when your cellphone’s ringtone cuts through the room. He holds back the sob building in his throat, leaving only choked air in its wake. It’s suddenly clear to you that the only other sounds in the room are both of your labored breaths. You strain to reach out towards the nightstand and Namjoon’s arms reluctantly give way to your movement. He immediately rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling in disbelief as you fumble to swipe at the screen.

“Why do you do this to me?” he whispers to himself, and rolls away from you to contemplate the meaning of life.

“H-Hello?”

“What uuuuup, bitch." Jennie’s voice is loud and carries through the receiver even though the volume isn’t at its highest setting. 

You wince, trying to shake the lingering nerves from your voice. “Heeeeey, Jennie.” You stumble through a few incoherent syllables. “A-Are you back?”

“You sound guilty. What are you doing?”

“I wasn’t doing anything, Jennie,” you scoff.

“Doesn’t sound like it. Oh, did you go have a rebound bang after that shitty date yesterday?” she asks excitedly.

“What? No! I was just minding my own business. Relaxing.” You swallow, sparing a glance at Namjoon. “Alone.” 

He raises his eyebrows at you and your roll your eyes, mouthing the word ‘what.’

“Okay, okay! I got it. I don’t need to hear about how great your vibrator is again. I get actual sex from actual real people, Y/N.”

Your mouth falls open and you cringe at her statement, tearing your eyes off of Namjoon’s giggling form. He folds his arm over his face to hide his laughter, but from the corner of your eye you can still see his body convulsing.

“You know what!” You shriek, rising from the bed and scurrying out of the room as fast as possible. “I don’t need this. Is there a reason you called?”

“Obviously you don’t check your email. I’m on my way back but Taehyung stopped by and asked me to retouch those photos he took.”

“Taehyung drove all the way there to ask you that?”

“He was apparently out this way for a gallery or something. I don’t know. He stopped by with a flash drive and asked me to work my magic aaaand ta-daaa. Well. Open your email. It works better if you can actually see what I’m ta-daing about.”

You swallow, putting her on speaker as you open the mail icon on your phone. Sure enough, there’s an email from Jennie with several attachments. Your eyes skim along the text in the body of the email and settle on the photos below. Holy shit.

“Well? What do you think? Pretty good right? I mean I haven’t touched them all but Tae and I picked out what we thought were the best of the best for your profile. He liked the artsier looking ones, but I said hey man, sex sells. And it does, Y/N. So sell that shit. Put em up, get some matches! Oh and don’t worry I didn’t use any liquify shit to make you look thinner or anything. I just focused on accentuating your natural beauty and fixing the lighting with some adjustments to levels and curves, maybe a few color balance filters. Honestly though, Tae knows what he’s doing with a camera and I didn’t have to do much for most of them. Some cropping and smoothing out wrinkles in the backdrop to make it look more like a real beach. Adding some plants in places for dimension.”

You stand there staring at the photos, quietly taking in just how gorgeous the pair have made you look in each one. “Honestly they look so good. But this is so much work for my stupid profile,” you mumble as you scroll through, admiring the images that you still can’t believe are you.

“Y/N, sweetie. I love you. You’re a catch and I can’t wait to see you find the person who will appreciate and love you even half as much as I do. But you need to get laid. Badly. Right now you’d probably fuck anything that moves. I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me you banged that meathead Jungkook. Even though we both know he’s a fuckboy. Totally pump-and-dump type. One hundred percent not boyfriend material. Not even worth the trouble of a fuck, honestly. But you know we on about those arms… I’m pretty sure he’s the only person we know that could actually do your fantasy of being fucked against a wall and, like, not even be tired from holding you up...” she trails off, lost in her own thoughts. 

The words don’t embarrass you, even if Namjoon can hear them; you’re too distracted to find yourself even remotely fazed. You’re too lost in the work they’ve presented here, too shocked to say much of anything because of how excellent a job they’ve done. Can this really be you? Is this what you look like on a good day?

Namjoon listens in, taking this opportunity to inspect his own arms. He flexes the scrawny muscle in his bicep, trying to will it to grow bigger with a glare. His head snaps up. Your fantasy. She said ‘your fantasy.’ Is that really what you like? 

He looks back down at his muscles, entertaining the possibility of such a scenario. It seems challenging, but not impossible, considering he’d half-carried you up three flights of stairs not too long ago. Then again, that’s a little different than holding someone up while thrusting into them and not giving a sloppy performance. What a fucking thought. Restraining the urge to palm himself over his sweats, he brings a curled finger to his lips in contemplation while eavesdropping on the rest of the conversation you don’t seem interested in hiding.

“And because you fucking suck at selling yourself, this is the easiest way to you get there. You get the sex out of your system and then you find mister right --or misses right; I don’t judge!”

You sigh, knowing she’s the one with experience. Jennie has a new prospect every week, but she knows how to utilize others’ infatuation to her advantage, get what she wants, and discard them as she sees fit. And she does it so effortlessly that you can’t help but envy her. She would know better than you could ever hope to.

“Thank you, Jennie. Really. I-I’m so grateful. Just… thank you. I’ll put these up and see if I get any hits.”

“Don’t get sappy on me, Y/N. It’s no big deal. Dudes are gonna be lining up to get in that pussy, babe. Don’t even worry ‘bout it, ‘kay? Love you bitch.”

“Love you…” The call ends and you wander thoughtlessly back into the bedroom.

Namjoon’s shit eating grin says everything that he doesn’t, but you settle into bed beside him and choose to ignore the look he’s giving you in favor of scrolling through the images again, completely disregarding the way you two were previously dry-humping to the sounds of your neighbors going at it. Namjoon’s frustrated sigh lets you know he hasn’t forgotten.

“Apparently Taehyung and Jennie worked on these together,” you say, pulling up the first one to show him. “Do you…” You hesitate, suddenly feeling shy and you nervously on your earlobe. “Do you think this is okay? Like am I lying to people if I put these up? I feel like they’re too good. I feel like they’ll expect this all the time and I don’t think that’s really fair.”

Namjoon’s eyes soften as he takes the phone from your palm. He licks his lips as he scans the details in the photo: the curve of your smile, the sweetness in your eyes, the way your head coyly rests upon your shoulder. You’re beautiful, as always. Makeup doesn’t really change that. But your smile radiates positivity and light in this particular instance; you’re practically glowing.

You twiddle your fingers together as you wait for the verdict, unable to read his stoic expression. “Well?”

His eyes roam from your face down to the photo a few times and he cracks a smile. “I think you need to stop worrying. I don’t see a difference.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Don’t you think I look too… good there?”

He mirrors your confused expression. “I think you look as good as you always do.” He catches himself when your confusion turns into bashfulness. “You know, for a nerd.”

You scoff and roll your eyes at the short lived compliment before propping your head up on his chest. Your finger pokes the screen, swiping across the images one by one and taking some time to review them with him. Not a single insult passes his lips. There’s nothing but praise spilling from him, finding something unique and genuine to compliment you on with each photo. He must sense your insecurity because he pauses each time and reminds you that he’s not being paid to say nice things. You silently thank him for at least trying to build you up. Surprisingly, it helps.

“I guess I’m using them then,” you sigh in defeat, rolling away from him as you take the phone back. You’re already downloading the photos so you can set them to your profile.

Namjoon rises at the opportunity, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach at the thought of you actually finding someone. Because Jennie is right. With photos that actually do your beauty justice, people will be flocking to you in droves. It seems too real now that you’re eagerly putting them on there. “Tinder won’t know what hit ‘em,” he says dejectedly. 

You’re too distracted to properly catch the disappointment in his tone. “I hope so.”

“Hey... I’m gonna go, Geeksquad. I just remembered I made plans with some of the guys and I want to make sure I run all my errands ahead of time.”

You hum a note of approval and almost miss the way his face twists in anxiety because as you look up, he transforms his stress into a soft smile. Still, you see just enough to know you’re being a rude bitch right now and it’s bothering him.

“I’m sorry.” You drop the phone and cross the room, pulling him into a tight embrace. “Thank you for staying with me, Joonie. I… really appreciate you. I’m a mess and you always take care of me. So thank you. For real.”

“I know, Geeksquad.” He strokes your head a couple times before taking a few steps back. It hurts too much to say what’s on his mind. 

“And, um… before Jennie called I…” You lock eyes and you mouth the words you wish to say, but they don’t come as you want them to, “just got caught in the moment. I’m sorry.”

He blinks at you a few times before vigorously nodding. “Yeah.” He clears his throat after hearing the crack in his own voice, bringing it a few octaves deeper to protect his ego. “Yeah, uh, me too. Don’t even worry about it, okay? I’ll, uh, I’ll text you when I know what we’re doing.”

You nod enthusiastically, a grin spreading across your face. “Okay!”

With that, he disappears and you hear the unlocking of your door and the soft click when it closes behind him. Picking your phone up from the bed, you struggle with setting the order of the photos. You save and resave different combinations for about 10 minutes until a notification blocks your screen. You’ve got a match.

[xocookiest]

Supergirl Theory: Season 5

I think the reality where Lena and Kara both worked together from the beginning was filled with assassination attempts, kidnappings, and threats towards Lena’s life happened constantly because of the public’s recognition of their relationship. 

An example of this can be found in the original timeline during the third season of the series when Mon-el and Lena were both captured and forced into an arranged marriage, and the reason the rescue was successful in the first place within that instance was because of the assistance of Lillian and possibly Lex. Hence, the reasons why the SuperFriends couldn’t find the bunker the Agents of Liberty were using as their base of operations because it was being facilitated by Lex and as stated by Lena herself within the fourth season of “Supergirl” Lex has a lot of hidden bunkers ones she doesn’t even know about or realize are under his possession because he loved anagrams, riddles, puzzles, and mind games. Which, were all used as a form of psychological torture and manipulation towards Lena and indirectly Kara.

That being said, one can also presume or make a logical assessment that Lena held enough importance to Supergirl that their enemies recognized it to the point where they could use their love and care for their relationship to get what they wanted out of it because villains might be very simplistic in the way that they want to conquer, take revenge, rule the world or whatever else they want to do. But, they aren't blind to their enemies' weaknesses because its something they can exploit to their own advantage and there are plenty of parallels that can be found from Smallville, Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman, films, novels, and comics to prove that Lena’s life would have always been in danger whether or not she was told Kara’s secret or not because of that relationship.

This leads us to the idea or theory that Lex and Lillian both realize how much Lena and Kara both care and love each other to the point that Lena is willing to kill her own brother, be completely ostracized by her own family, and death to keep her safe as much as Kara is willing to risk death, her identity, and the world to keep her safe and to recognize that she is worth saving because as the one-hundredth episode has proven one can not exist without the other tragically lost in their pain and suffering or be killed. And, as much as Lex and Lillian may both hate the idea of them being together. They also can't dismiss the fact that they need them both together for their plans to succeed. Hence, the reasons why Lillian manipulates Lena into working with Lex because they don’t possess her intelligence and ingenuity to build what they need because its something neither of them have ever worked on for themselves because a person who works towards saving humanity and one who wants to destroy or conquer the world has a very different set of skills. 

Which, are the exact same reasons why Lex wants to work with Supergirl because she possesses skills and resources he obviously doesn’t have and he needs them to survive to face their opponent that he knows nothing about who is also competing with him to conquer or rule the world and to get rid of an opponent like that he needs the "Girl of Steel" on his side because he doesn't know what the odds are, but if she's constantly on his back his plan won't succeed. Therefore, he makes sure Kara's attention is always towards his opponent and not him because that way he can keep on doing whatever he wants. And, to make extra sure Kara and her friends don’t realize what he's actually up to he also exploits Lena and Kara’s weaknesses to keep them both distracted because it's the only way to get what he wants out of the situation. Once everything blows over, of course, it makes the two of them an easier target if they are both too occupied fighting each other than with him. Considering, he knows both of their weaknesses and how to exploit them.

Albeit, it is a very twisted version of the two of them "working together" because they aren't and the minute that Kara and Lena realize they are being used and manipulated by Leviathan, Lex, and Lillian. I think things will start turning around, but Lena needs to realize what she’s doing is wrong and has consequences and reach out to Kara and her friends because she does need their help, and until Lena says she wants it Kara won’t change her position upon it because she’s drawn the line for it after coming to terms with her own guilt about lying to her all this time. So, once Lena admits that she does want Kara’s help and possibly works to forgive her for her actions the two of them can and will work out their issues together along with their relationship because it is important to them. Otherwise, neither of them would have the reaction they have and because of that they also probably realize in some form or manner they both need each other. Which, means we might be heading towards a reconciliation. A drawn-out one, but a reconciliation all the same. Hopefully...I could be totally wrong on all of that. But....you know one can hope or dream. Right?

[kelpie-earnest]

They’re really gonna kill my boi billy huh ? (Plz convince me otherwise):

Oh anon. I’m not sure I’m the right person to come to, for comfort. lol I like to stick close to reality, in theories and HCs (still love my AUs too of course) So I apologise in advance if this is not AS hopeful as you’d hoped. But I will share my honest views, based on what we know so far/what I think is going to happen.

After the events in the new book about parts of Max and Billy’s earlier lives (Runaway Max) I’m pretty sure that they are intending to make Billy more sympathetic. Not redeeming him (yet?) not by any means, and also not painting him as a better guy per se, but showing us more of how he was, how Neil was, what he was subjected to for a long time and how he ended up like he is, achieving this sweet spot between ‘I still don’t like him but I feel sorry for him’ for a lot of people aka. probably the majority of ST fans who originally hated him. Naturally, this doesn’t look good for his survival chances because it seems to be building the audience up to at least feel something when or if he dies.

Depending on how much you want to accept as canon from the book, of course, as it wasn’t written by the show runners (but most likely had base points to stick to). So from the book we know Neil’s been beating/abusing him for a long time, and that he is resigned to it by now. We also know that he knows Neil is full of shit, and doesn’t consider him his proper ‘father’ (now if this means he really isn’t Neil’s biological son, or just that he knows/expresses that Neil is not fit to be a parent is a good question. Maybe we will know after s3, if we see glimpses of his mom there).

It also makes it look like that he is aware that Neil would beat him, no matter what he did. He would find a reason. So his behaviour and the way he dresses, in part, might also be him taking back a semblance of control, by creating a ‘reason’ himself. But I went off there a bit, sorry. :’)

So yeah, what we take away from the book is that he’s already, unfortunately, pretty damaged as a result of his upbringing and does some unsettling things - that are, by the way, not out of the realm for a teenage guy at this age, in his situation. I was actually relieved they weren’t worse - and appears to be only half there unless when he’s angry/ snaps to attention which is when the unpredictable things and his violence happens.

He also had some tiny bonding moments with Max - and his quip about Neil - which showed that, even if he’s somewhat out there, he’s not completely gone yet, as a person. Which again circles back to most people probably feeling sorry for and troubled by him, if they read this book.

Back to s3. What we know or suspect so far all points to the fact that yes, he’s probably one (?) of the main enemies. But not by his own accord. He definitely gets possessed by the Mindflayer and I’m pretty sure he will become a sort of spy/lackey to it, moving things behind the scenes, doing its will, setting things up. I’m also pretty sure that, after taking a good begrudging look at El and then at the School/The Party in it in S2, the Mindflayer knew that for its plans to succeed this time, it will need to take El and the Party out, first, which is most likely what it’s going to try to do with Billy.

So yes, Billy will be possessed and do things against his will.And this part is speculation, but I think Heather might be his first real friend (or girlfriend) or just someone he’s relatively close with, and she might sense something is off, first, or see something at the pool which will lead to the Mindflayer killing her off first, to eradicate the witness, using Billy to do it of course. This will also definitely lead to Billy suffering emotionally - I don’t think he will be completely gone yet, before this. Maybe after. (( I’m also fairly sure that IF anything happens with Karen, even just Billy starting to pay attention to her compared to before, it will be because of the Mindflayer, making him, to get closer to the party through Kare,/one of the moms. To hear things.))

So the thing with him in S3 will most likely be that we know he’s not himself, or not even there, and will probably see him scared or suffer for it first, but after the possession takes over he’s definitely going to do a LOT of bad stuff. Trying to get the Party, get El, do the bidding of the Mindflayer in whatever form… Essentially yes, a villain.

For this purpose the mindflayer might make him team up with Lynx Corp too, by the end, because they have the same goal of opening a gate to the UD again and /maybe/ get El too, and it will most likely recognise that while not having enough physical presence/ muscle in the human world, it’s within its best interest to work together with them — until it won’t need them anymore, of course.

What is also suspected/spoiled from some sources is that at the very, very end, Billy will snap out of this state/ manage to get his body back, and do something that will have a pretty big -positive- impact. But this action will cost his life. SUPPOSEDLY. As I said, this part is a spoiler which, again, no matter the source I’m still treating with a GIANT pinch of salt.

Even if true, Stranger Things had cases of seemingly killing a character (like El in S1) before, only to bring them back next season. So unless his death is very, and I mean very obvious and final, I’m not treating it as a confirmed death, until a final scene OR the final season, S4. Final consensus – I’m sorry, I know I went WAY off on this, but there’s been SO MUCH new content and info with Billy… it’s impossible for me not to talk about it right now. lol

So final consensus is that:

Billy is definitely a main villain, but not by his own will. He is also set up to be a somewhat sympathetic villain, with his life and Neil, and his grief and suffering (to come). The way his character is treated and presented so far does seem to build up to a possible sacrifice/victim of events sort of approach with him, but there is also just so much material in him, and possibility, that right now I would also not put money on him being killed off for good. It would be a very boring decision from the writers. Personally I see him fake killed off for dramatic effect,and then showing up in a final scene or just, suddenly, next season. Like oops, guess who didn’t bite it!

I also need to cram in here that he would be such an amazing asset for the team, against fighting monsters. And it would also definitely help him start to deal with things. Such as his anger… I also think they would make a fucking amazing duo with Steve, and would begrudgingly develop mutual respect (especially Billy towards Steve, the grudging ‘I guess you can handle yourself after all, pretty boy’) which then would COULD turn into a very mutually beneficial friendship. Not even in a shippy way. I genuinely believe their friendship would be awesome and help both of them a lot, emotionally. Even if for Billy, it would be slow going. 

Ahem, sorry for the mini novel. But here it is! A few of my takes on Billy, gearing up to S3. 

[smis-five-creedmoor]

In light of all the news I’ve been hearing of, I need to get this off my chest. This will be a very, very unpopular post, and I’ll probably even lose a few close friends for saying this (you know who you are), but it needs to be said.

But first, some background:

See, I grew up in a family of Jehovah’s Witnesses. As such, I was told to keep an arm’s distance away from any and all non-Witnesses. This made me a very lonely individual. Further compounding the issue was the fact that, at some point in my childhood, there was an individual who abused me to hell and back. All the while discouraging me from being close to anyone that isn’t him. Further compounding the issue was my autism making it hard to maintain what little social ability I had.

Basically, I was kept in isolation for large amounts of time at a time, resulting in me gaining a bit of a reputation of being quiet, weird, and at times unapproachable.

Then, after graduating high school, I was a NEET for about 6-8 months. I had wanted to use those 6 months to figure out what I wanted to do in life. The result is me staying at home playing nothing but Minecraft and watching MLP all day, even further ensuring my social isolation.

By the time I finally chose something for college, I was socially...stunted. I was highly combative, prone to fits, VERY distrusting of people, and just was an unpleasant individual to be around. But by this point I was used to being isolated.

An important tidbit of information here is that when I went to college, I had the whole thing paid for by my parents (mind you it was a fairly short program akin to the US’s “Community College” and I still lived with my parents for this, so the costs were kept fairly minimal).

It was also around this time I was interested in firearms (though, more specifically, air guns at this time).

This next bit of story will seem a little more familiar to the Millenials following me on this site, but with a slight variation. See, I went to school for HVAC-R (Heating, Ventilation, Air Conditioning, Refrigeration), and while I was able to graduate, I still had to take a test in order to be fully qualified to be a mechanic. I’ve attempted the test, and I failed three times in the course of one year, all the while keeping social interactions to a minimum. The rules state that if I fail the test three times, I basically had to go back to school to try again.

As you can see, this was a failure. My parents said they would not be helping me with payments for college. And thus, I was back in square one. This was around the time my mental health was at its lowest. And thus, I began looking for any work. My parents supported the endeavour, but was forever disappointed that it wasn’t related to my college education.

Basically, for much of my life, I was isolated. VERY isolated.

Now, what was the point of telling you this (quite frankly long-winded) backstory? This is a chillingly similar story to a lot of the Far Right terrorists I’ve been reading about. However, where I stopped with the backstory is where the divergence begins. See, in my case, after effectively throwing things up at the ceiling in hopes to see what sticks, with a further declining mental health and wallet, I eventually got myself a nice job selling guns to people (I do realize the irony in this and to this day it still makes me chuckle).

Okay, that divergence point wasn’t the only point where I differ. The positive about the air gun hobby (which evolved into gun hobby) is that I was exposed to a bunch of weirdoes (of which I consider to be cool people in my life), which, in many cases, were acting as the only social interactions I had.

See, in my case, I had just a few tiny embers of motivation to keep going, even in the worst of times. In the case of, for example, the El Paso shooter, I see a completely extinguished flame of motivation to succeed in life. A pitch-black pit of ashes and soot. At best this results in suicide (of which becomes, at best, a statistic) that nobody reports on. At worst is what I’ll be talking about next:

I can’t claim to know everything that’s happened to the guy in El Paso, TX, USA (or really any of the Alt Right), but the few commonalities I’ve seen between me and these Alt Right weirdoes is indicative of a problematic pattern:

Isolationism.

Humans are social creatures, and as such talking to one another and having dialogue is crucial. And at the risk of sounding like “hurr dburr technology bad Thomas Edison was a witch”, for all the good the Internet has brought us (and it most certainly has), it’s also acted as a double-edged sword.

I’m not going into a “in the past humans spoke with each other face-to-face myeh~” because that’s, at most, only part of the issue. I don’t know when, but at some point people kept cutting more and more people out of their circles due to differing opinions. This results in those social rejects to seek out anyone to speak with, both on and offline. Now, I do know why that happens. I forget where but I read somewhere that differing opinions trigger the same brain response as when a saber-toothed tiger rushes towards you: a fight-or-flight response.

I don’t know if it’s because of deliberate actions of some nefarious actors or just something that festered over time, but at some point the talking points between these groups of rejects became very extremist. But because nobody else would dare approach them with a 50′ pole (be it because they’re just that well hidden or their actions are really just that repulsive), their views go unchallenged.

Even further compounding the issue is all the news and media attention mass shooters have had received, especially around 2008-2017, but starting from Columbine (even though mass shootings took place before then, see Ecole Polytechnique of Montreal, QC, Canada). And given the nature of Cable News around this time (24 hour coverage of everything ever), this only emboldened a lot of these killers.

Now, to their credit, they did slow down on the reporting on the mass shooters’ profile and what have you, but because there’s enough of a backlog of previous mass shooters, it’ll still be a while before it all dies down. Not helping is that these incidents are becoming weirder and crazier, with the latest one specifically targetting Latin Americans and leaving a manifesto (in the same fashion as the guy in Christchurch, also racially motivated). Why? Because they know it’ll result in The Clicks. It’ll result in The Attention.

The same Attention they never received as kids.

Mix that with the utter nihilism, and this results in a horrific cocktail of terror.

Before any of my followers to the right of the aisle say any sort of Shen Bapiro style quip of sorts, this is not limited to The Far Right. I’m bringing them up because right now that seems to be The Big Discussion Point right now.

You may have noticed that I’ve not mentioned Donald Trump or his rhetoric. Let me first make things clear: I do not like Donald Trump. I do not like a lot of what he’s done, or what he’s said.

But the reason I’ve not mentioned Trump is simple:

This shit’s been happening since at least the Clinton administration. It’s only gotten this insane because it had the time to grow over a very long time.

You may have also noticed that I’ve barely mentioned firearms. Well I can tell you from personal experience it takes more than just a drum mag to drive people to want to kill (I’m so afraid of conflicts that I kept this entire essay below a cut).

I can tell you right now, for every one drum mag used in a massacre, one thousand of them have been used strictly in the range (be it an official one, something cobbled together in some redneck’s backyard, or as gun owners call it: “innawoods”). Most gun owners don’t even like those things for the simple fact that they’re expensive, heavy, and unreliable.

Somewhat off topic, but the whole “sensible gun laws” discussion infuriates me, for the simple fact that nobody can really agree on what “sensible” even is. For some, semi is acceptable but pinned to 10 or 5. Others will say semis are unacceptable altogether. Some will say no guns longer than certain amount, others will say no shorter. Some will say only some guns are acceptable based purely on what they’ve heard, and others will flat out reject guns altogether. Some say shotguns are fine but rifles aren’t, others say rifles are fine but shotguns aren’t.

The fact that everyone wanting “sensible gun laws” have wildly varying ideas of what “sensible” is makes the whole discussion not only pointless, it also assumes that the person declaring their view of “sensible” is in charge of what is sensible, and everyone else must follow it. A very self-centred approach, if you ask me.

All the while having zero clue as to what the hell they’re talking about.

If you made it this far, or just sort of skimmed through everything (I don’t blame you if the latter), here is a scene from Steven Universe that sums up what I’m saying (not perfectly, mind you, but the gist of it remains the same):

So the solution seems simple, yes? Re-integrate these extremists back into society, right?

Well, at this stage it’s not that easy.

And I hate to disappoint, but I don’t really have any answers. At least, one that can be summed up in even just a paragraph. Rather, the way I see it, every individual is a different case study as it is. We all need to approach things in that manner.

Because sweeping legislation of what people can or can’t say, use, or do will only work until it is used against them.

But hey, it’s the fault of a piece of metal and plastic, isn’t it?

[yamayuandadu]

Rider of Clouds (again)

After going through more sources on Ugaritic mythology and the “storm god versus the sea” motif as a whole in Anatolia, Levant, Egypt and Mesopotamia, I decided to post about the characters meant for my loose Baal Cycle retelling again.

Baal (middle) – the eponymous Rider of Clouds, a young weather deity born to Dagon and Shalash, largely retired agricultural gods who settled in Ugarit shortly before Baal's birth. While the mythical  Baal Hadad is male, my version is a woman – the idea started as a joke about conflating Baal from the Baal cycle with Baalat Gebal, a female figure associated with another levantine bronze age city (BG's actual identity is an object of much scholarly debate) being more valid than conflating him with much later Baal Hammon from Carthage, which happens a lot online, but I got attached to it (a certain artifact which is variously interpreted as representing either a short-haired noblewoman or a prince was a factor too) so now here we are.  She nonetheless uses a male title inherited from her father, much like a few historical female rulers did. In my version “Hadad” is only a nickname, and her real name is actually Hebat, who is a goddess mentioned in one inscription as Dagan's daughter. As the levantine/syrian Hebat lacks a defined character in real mythology (another Hebat was regarded as the Hittite storm god's wife but was replaced in this role by the sun goddess of Arinna and that's about it) it should be fine to conflate her with Dagan's best attested divine child, I think. Baal is impulsive and follows a moral code which, depending on the point of view, might be either naive or heroic, which means she's not exactly the optimal person to get involved in n-dimensional divine politics, but that's not enough to stop her from trying. The story documents her rise to the position of the head god of Ugarit's pantheon. Astarte (right) – a goddess of uncertain origin and no particularly well defined attributes, who attaches herself to Baal initially in hopes of advancing own career, though the two eventually develop a more genuine relationship. She patterns herself after the much more famous Mesopotamian Inanna, seeing her as an ideal to strive for – especially when it comes to trickery. While Baal has the name recognition and disposition fitting for a major deity, Astarte is the part of the duo actually capable of navigating politics, and takes the title of Face of Baal, negotiating support for Baal's bid with other gods. The image of Baal she projects differs slightly from reality, though not enough for most onlookers to notice. Ignore the crescent moon diadem, it'll be replaced as soon as I'll draw her again. Anat (left) – the younger daughter of Ugarit's head god, El. Her philosophy differs greatly from her parents' and as a result she isn't really seriously considered for succession. Her hobbies include bladed weapons, gambling and heroic epics; in the past she attempted writing her own self insert one. She's deeply invested in Baal's ascendance, and is probably the god Astarte wants to recruit for their cause the most.

El and Asherah – the ruling couple of Ugarit, currently pondering retirement, which stirs many contenders to the throne into action. El is a lifelong opportunist changing views and allegiances as he sees fit, though he pretty consistently favors Yam as his main underling. His wife (image tbd) generally holds similar views, though has some qualms about Yam's rise to power.

Kothar-wa-Khasis – a craftsman god who, by own admission, only works part time in Ugarit and travels the world for the rest of it. He's kind and dependable and his wares are both affordable and of great quality, but his real motives are hard to ascertain. His real identity is likewise a subject of much speculation among other gods – while his preferred manner of clothing hints at an egyptian origin, nothing is known for sure. He's also a talented musician. Shapash – El's firstborn daughter, serving as “the torch of the gods”, guaranteeing Ugarit gets its fair share of sunlight. Her political allegiance is unknown.

Yam – a sea monster more than a god, presiding over the nearby section of the sea and all that dwells in it, including the sea slugs important for the human inhabitants of the area. He's also the son of the influential Anatolian god Kumarbi, banished to the underworld by the current head god Teshub. As a result of his influence, he gained El's support and received many titles, which de facto makes him the most likely to succeed El as the king of local pantheon.  He's capricious and inconsiderate, but maintains a larger than life public image meant to make him palatable to potential backers. The circumstances of his arrival in Ugarit are shrouded in mystery, and may or may not be relate for his unusually strong hatred of Baal. Ashtar (image tbd) – an opportunist who sides with Yam, hoping to receive a share in the gains he's making thanks to El's blessings. He's pretty content with playing the role of a toady though his aspirations might be different, as evidenced by his gaudy fashion preferences. Yam’s messenger (image tbd) – an attempt at developing an obscure figure from the original myth, Yam's nameless and seemingly rather rude and infuriating messenger, into a full blown character. His real identity is a mystery. He interned under a variety of famous mythical villains in order to gain a greater understanding of their ways, and currently serves as Yam's messenger, adviser, doorkeeper and punching bag. Mot – profoundly unpleasant and unsociable being tasked with maintaining Ugarit's very own underworld. While his equivalents in neighboring cultures generally view themselves as impartial judges or a necessary evil, Mot gets his kicks from posing as a personification of death itself, and is notoriously corrupt.

Marduk – the tutelary deity of Babylon, reigning as the king of gods of most of Mesopotamia and its neighbors. While technically Ugarit isn't directly under his control, he still is the god whose confirmation is necessary to rise to the position of the head of a local pantheon. He doesn't have a unified mythical narrative about himself yet at this point in time, despite his position, which is a source of insecurity for him. During travels, he's assisted by his personal aide and biographer, Nabu, and his pet. Seth – in real life, ancient Egyptians equated many gods of their neighbors with Seth; therefore in Rider of Clouds Seth serves as an ambassador of the Egyptian pantheon. While ultimately Marduk's judgment matters the most, Seth gets the right to veto his decisions when it comes to validating claims to local thrones. On good terms with Kothar-wa-Khasis, which is a subject of much gossip among other gods. Teshub – the head of the Hittite and Hurrian pantheon, technically capable of projecting the most power in Ugarit's politics; however, as the gods of Ugarit share closer affinity with Mesopotamia than Hatti, he competes with Marduk for political influence. As he and Baal are a very similar type of god, he's the most outspoken supporter of Baal's ascension to the throne out of all 3 foreign dignitaries. Ignore the ?, it’s just Baal. Gupan and Ugar – two minor gods who might be some of the only allies Baal recruited herself rather than with Astarte's help. They play a minor role in the story as her messengers and heralds. They're also a couple. Kubaba – a pretender to the throne of the head deity of the pantheon of Carchemish, a city-state close to Ugarit. Involved with the Hittite Sun Goddess of the Underworld in some capacity. This is, however, not their story. If you follow my oc posts you can probably guess which one is about them.