#except some unhinged posts in the coming hours

[bcbryar]

I just woke up to Tubbo in a maid dress I’m thinking so many thoughts right now

Oh my god. Oh my fucking god. I'm gonna throw up. Oh my god. I've no words. Oh my god look at him. With the little thingie in his hair. O h my god. The things I need to do to him.

[airbenderedacted]

deathstar shippers stop going out of ur way to tell me you hate dominator being a lesbian and that you’re homophobic asf challenge (impossible, apparently)

[lordprettyflackotara]

noise || hoody

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. remember when i talked about this hoody fic 509 years ago? yeah here it is. also yeS i am aware masky & hoody belong to marble hornets this is the only time im going to address this💀 we are in 2024 in this fandom WE KNOW. anyways enjoy !! <3

If there was anything you could’ve changed about your life, you had a particular decision in mind.

Being a desperate college student for cash, babysitting and dog walking wasn’t paying the off the debt you were accumulating.

You had scoured Craigslist, confident that there would be an odd job you’d be able to accomplish for quick cash.

Looking back you wish you had known quick cash wouldn’t come easy.

A posting offering $5k a week fell into your lap about a week later. The details seemed easy enough. The ability to clean an older mansion, whilst keeping the identities of the multiple infamous residents that resided there a secret seemed like a piece of cake.

What the posting didn’t list, was that the infamous residents were unhinged killers. Some of which you couldn’t even categorize as human.

It also didn’t list that your position would be residing in the mansion, permanently.

Being a maid in the Slenderman mansion was, in lack of better words: fucking terrifying.

The residents operated at odd hours. No matter what time you cleaned, you always received the displeasure of running into someone.

The longer you stayed, the longer paranoia began to settle in. Ben Drowned, the poster of the Craigslist ad, was a perv. You learned to stray away from electronic devices he could peep his head through. Jeff the killer, one of the most unhinged, had a short temper. He was one of the first ones to opt out of having his room cleaned by you, a decision you silently praised after walking by and seeing how filthy it was.

The next to opt out with a demonic creature named Eyeless Jack, one who specifically requested you stay out of his medical lab. Given all of the blood and goop you had mopped up at this point, a fear of being eaten led you to offering to clean it regardless. EJ knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it, given his ‘hobbies’ were the most gore filled of the mansions residents. It didn’t surprise him when you left the lab green, puking immediately in a bucket he had placed beside the door for you.

The other members whose names you were obligated to memorize, Jane, Clockwork, Jason the something maker, all were rarely home. You learned to steer clear of Jason’s workshop, the dolls he made often speaking to you as if they had souls. The only three other residents who lived in the mansion full time (minus its owner), were what you learned to be proxies. These proxies, two of them at least, seemed to be human just like you.

Ticci Toby’s mortality was still up in the air for you. He once had tripped and fallen after you had mopped the floors, landing on the marble face first. He got up like nothing happened, giggling to himself about ‘how wet you made the floor’. After observing him throw axes in the training room, you decided to steer clear of him.

Masky seemed to be the trio’s leader, his face consistently hidden behind a doll resembling mask. He avoided you like the plague, skipping the formalities and acting as if you didn’t exist. You never asked questions, not knowing how long anyone had truly been here. But Masky in particular seemed a bit older than everyone, when you accidentally stumbled upon him coming home late one night from a mission. His nose was trailing blood, his mask broken in half. You ensured to avoid eye contact, but extended a wet washcloth to him so he could attend to his nose.

After that your dynamic remained the same for the most part. Except when both of you occupied a room together, neither of you made an effort to beeline to the door.

Hoody was the last proxy, the one that made you more at ease than the others. Hoody had spoken a grand total of maybe ten words to you, introducing himself and Masky before dashing out of the back door. The only time you really saw him was when you cleaned his room, the man doing a poor job of pretending to read magazines while you cleaned. Other than that, you only caught glimpses of the proxies when they came home in the late hours of the night from missions.

Most of the time they were soaked in blood. In a couple of odd occasions you had to assist them in carrying one another up to Eyeless Jack’s medical lab. You couldn’t figure out why the proxies were here, two humans not seeming to fit in with the rest of misfits that resided here. You had no idea soon enough you’d be up close and personal.

Late night was when you preferred to clean, most of the killers away from the mansion and out hunting. The existence of the residents here only existed because of their dedication to keep their identities a secret. Night time was the perfect cover, for them and for you. You were leaning over the kitchen sink, scrubbing at a particular stubborn pot when you heard the back door open. You tried very hard not to stare, not wanting to gain unwanted attention.

You glanced up briefly, catching a glance of Toby’s and Masky’s familiar figures as they trudged upstairs. “He cost us that fucking mission, Slender’s gonna be so pissed off,” Masky growled, rounding the corner of the kitchen. Toby trailed behind him, an axe dripping blood slung over his shoulder. “Y-yeah, what w-w-was he thinking?!” Toby exclaimed, his stuttering something you had grown accustomed to. You noted Hoody’s absence, your eyebrows raising as you returned your gaze to the pot.

The sound of doors slamming echoed through out the other wise quiet mansion, the silence fulfilling you with some sort of ease. It didn’t take long for the final proxy to stumble into frame, his hand cupping his face. You weren’t forbidden from interacting with the mansions residents, your urge to help sweeping over you. Hoody was awkwardly stumbling, immediately leaning onto you for support as you helped him stay standing.

“I got it,” He huffed. His usual ski mask was half raised, the bottom half of his face revealed to you for the first time. His chin and upper lip had surprisingly clean cut facial hair, kept to a minimum. You guided him around the counter, helping him sit onto the kitchen counter by the sink. Hastily he shoved his yellow hood off of his head, yanking the ski mask off with it. You were surprised a normal human being stared back at you, a large gash sliced across his cheek.

“Jesus Christ,” You muttered. You grabbed a clean wash cloth, running it under cold water. “Didnt ask for your commentary doll,” Hoody said dryly. You swallowed, wringing out the excess water. You could’ve done what you did with Masky, handing him the washcloth and wishing him a silent farewell. But instead you didn’t. “Sorry,” You mumbled. You craved human contact, any kind of human contact. Brushing off your skirt you stepped in between his legs, leaning forward.

You were careful to avoid eye contact, focusing on dabbing the wound. Hoody silently winched under the feeling, inhaling through his teeth. As gently as you could you dabbed away the blood. “Do you want me to get EJ?” You asked. Hoody’s face was stone cold, from what you could see out of the corner of your eye anyways. “Dont bother, i’m sure he’s sick of patching us up all the time,” He grumbled. The wound didn’t look deep, just very long. Thankfully most of the blood was gone, the rest of his face covered in specs of dry blood (that you presumed to not be his) and dirt.

Turning on the sink you washed out the washcloth, the crimson paint drifting off down the drain with the water. You then returned to Hoody, wiping off his face. You weren’t sure what compelled you to be so compassionate, Hoody’s eyes fluttering shut. He took a deep breath, his shoulders seemingly relaxing. You were gentle of course, not wanting to piss the killer in front of you off. But even Hoody knew your action wasn’t callous.

Once you were done you awkwardly stepped aside, putting the rag in the sink. “You want a cig?” Hoody asked. He dug in his jeans, pulling out a beat up cigarette box. “Is this your way of showing gratitude?” You asked. The man in front of you smiled, extending you the box. “This right here is the only kind of buzz you’re getting around here doll,” He explained, allowing himself to half smile. You had never smoked a cigarette before, nor had you really planned on it. Not like it mattered now.

You put one to your lips like people did in movies, watching Hoody do the same. He pulled out a lighter, flicking it and igniting the end of his cigarette. You leaned forward, watching Hoody attempt to flick the lighter again. The flame refused to ignite, the sight of small sparks making him sigh. “Masky always takes the good lighters,” He muttered. He inhaled his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the right. You found the gesture of attempting to not violate you with smoke a little sweet.

“Well I appreciate the offer. I’ve never smoked a cigarette anyways,” You admit. Hoody shook his head. “That just won’t do then. Put it to your lips and stay still,” He ordered. You did as instructed, watching him lean closer to you. His fingers went under your chin, keeping your head held high. You felt your face beginning to burn, the end of his cigarette lighting yours as you inhaled. You both avoided each others gazes, until the second he began to back away.

For a brief moment you shared eye contact, searching each other’s eyes. For what? You didn’t know. You properly inhaled, coughing immediately. “You guys like this stuff?” You asked in between coughs, continuing to choke. Hoody nonchalantly took another drag of his, watching you struggle. “It’ll grow on you, trust me. I didn’t like it at first either,” He confessed. Once you regained strength in your lungs you properly stood up. Hoody remained seated on the kitchen counter, with you standing beside him.

“How long have you been here?” You asked curiously. You were stepping over a hundred boundaries, ones you could die for if you stepped over the line too far. “A while,” Hoody answered honestly. You took another drag of your cigarette, the taste of tobacco growing on you. “How long are you going to be here?” Hoody countered. You exhaled, glancing back at the proxy. He had exhaled through his nose, boldly making eye contact with you.

“A while.”

You found the courage to turn around, facing him fully. “You aren’t lonely?” You asked. Hoody gave you a smile, tossing the bud of his cigarette into the nearby trashcan. “I am, are you?” He asked curiously. You followed his lead, tossing the bud of the cigarette into the trashcan. If it set the kitchen on fire, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. “Yeah I am,” You admit. Hoody slid off of the counter, his tall height towering over you.

“Do you uh, wanna change that?” He asked. For a killer who had a victims blood splattered across his face moments ago, he seemed so awkward. You wondered how long it had been since he had been with a woman. How long would it be before you could be with a man again? “Please,” You sighed. Hoody kissed you just as rough as you expected, both of you melting into the other. Both of you were undeniably needy, touch depraved and lonely. You were sure this was forbidden for both of you but as his tongue slid into your mouth, you just couldn’t find it within yourself to care.

“Call me Brian but only when it’s us, okay? Thats not who I am anymore but that’s who I want to be with you, okay?” Hoody asked. You nodded, the normal name bringing your comfort. Brian’s hand snaked down your waist, squeezing and kneading at the flesh of your ass. You whimpered into his mouth, the sound only making him harder. There was no telling how much longer you’d be around, the residents of the mansion unhinged enough to snap at any moment.

You couldn’t fully undress here and going upstairs was out of the question. “This has to be quick, we can’t get caught,” You whispered. Brian nodded, slipping his hand up your skirt. He rubbed against your wet cunt, your panties preventing any further stimulation. Brian had zero control over his life but he did right here, right now. You had no control over yours either, the decision to fuck each other to release steam the only free will decision either of you could make. You palmed him through his jeans, his cock practically busting through the fabric.

He guided you to the counter, grabbing the sides of your panties and yanking them down to your ankles. He shoved them into his pocket for what you thought to be safe temporary keeping. But Brian had other ideas.

“Fuck, please, wanna feel you Brian,” You whispered, trying hard to not groan loudly. Brian quickly undid his belt bringing his lips back to yours. It had been so long since he had kissed anyone, your soft lips driving him mad. It wasn’t long before his cock was at your entrance, awkwardly shuffling with his jeans at his ankles. He fell a bit backwards, causing you to laugh. “Fucking hell, sorry-” He began apologizing. You giggled, hopping off of the counter.

You brought him fully to the ground, pushing his back against the oven. “This might work better,” You replied, lowering yourself down onto his cock. Brian’s cock felt like heaven, your mouth falling open. Both of you let out a sigh of relief. You had no way to masturbate, no way to possibly release the stressful tension building inside of you. As you pressed your forehead against Brian’s, you realized that this was what you got. This was your outlet.

Brian’s gloved hands met your waist, helping you roll your hips. You let out a loud groan, one of his hands flying to your mouth. “Shh, you can’t make any noise,” Brian warned, your inability to stay composed only making him more hot and bothered. He took control, guiding your hips to ride him at a pace that worked for both of you. You were as wet as a virgin, your body yearning for more as Brian abused your g spot. Your sinful moans were muffled by his gloved hand, his other attempting to guide you.

He brought himself close to your ear. “If you wanna get off, you’re gonna have to ride me by yourself mkay? Do that and i’ll play with that pretty clit of yours doll,” He huffed, trying to control his own noises. You nodded yes profusely, trying to concentrate on grinding your hips against his. With his spare hand he found your clit, drawing sloppy circles around it. For a brief moment he was worried about his ‘skills’ not having slept with a woman in years. Whether he was good or bad at it, you didn’t appear to give a shit. You were still a panting mess, your hair sticking to your forehead from sweat.

Your walls clenched tighter around Brian as you felt yourself closer to euphoria, your eyes fluttering shut. With your forehead pressed to his you pawed at his hoodie, grabbing handfuls as your orgasm washed over you. Your sinful noises were muted by Brian’s hand, the muffled sounds music to his ears that he had made you feel that good. Your walls fluttering around him triggered his own orgasm, his cum flooding inside of you. He dropped his hand from your mouth, both of you taking a moment to breathe.

In a moment of true loneliness you leaned against Brian’s shoulder, ignoring the faint smell of dried blood and sweat. Unsurely Brian stroked your hair, trying to remember if that was comforting or not. He licked his dry lips, a bold question on the tip of his tongue.

“You wanna share a cigarette again tomorrow?”

[har-rison-s]

whatever you need | coryo snow x fem!reader

a/n: don't mind me, just eating pomelo and writing smut. i daydream about this piece every and all work day i have rn, it's pretty unhinged bcs i'm working as a gift wrapper for the holiday season and just staring ahead thinking of.... things. i'm technically an atheist, but i would need forgiveness for those thoughts. ANYWAY JEEZ. this took me like four days, help. i'm so insecure abt my smut writing, tho so ooohhh god am i actually dreading posting this. i'll just publish and run away from tumblr for a week. happy reading

talk to me about coryo here

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coryo masterlist main masterlist

word count: 7.2k (sawrry)

themes: smut

warnings / disclaimers: smut, unprotected p in v, brief mutual masturbation, cum eating (SCREAMING), fingering, crying, ENJOY jsdfjhsadsd

gif credit goes to owner <3

something strange was happening in the arena. something was being done to the camera feeds that were supposed to livestream every second of what was happening in it. only because something seemed to have gone wrong in the games y/n was stuck to the television screen in her living room slash lounge. her parents were called into urgent work in district three a few hours ago, so it was only her and some of the maids in the house. they kept to themselves, though, and were probably asleep in their quarters at the mansion’s far-end wing. except for the main housekeeper, who was adamantly guarding the entrance of the house, in case anyone came by.

her parents were counting on someone coming by - with the way she was recently behaving at school and with the rebel bombs, they were real worried about her well-being. she was always alone at home, because there was no one to bring home. except the dean, but he came by himself and only to serve his usual scolding and threats about y/n’s rebellious nature and behaviour at school. her parents hadn’t felt such worry for their daughter as they felt now since the war days. 

what soothed her mother’s worried heart and mind was the presence of the maids and the housekeeper. y/n appreciated their staying around and liked hearing noises made by someone else in the mansion, even if it was only a far-away creak of floorboards or a door closing. but she didn’t need anything from them, ever, she’d been very independent since her early childhood, and maids seemed like such an excess right now, an even backwards concept for y/n. her family employing them, unable to live without them, made her feel like the rich princess everyone deemed her being. 

y/n had felt fine being home alone until the feed from the arena turned strange. darker, blacker, and the audio seemed warped or otherwise manipulated. she’d caught sight of a familiar figure entering the arena – who was that? how did he get inside? who can tell... – and then the feed changed. there was nothing much she could see, but her eyes had been glued to the screen of her television for the past half hour, anyway. all the while she was straining her eyes to try to see who it was, and at some point that figure was joined by another by Sejanus’ tribute Marcus’ bruised and wounded body, and then the feed darkened nearly completely. 

she sat in her sofa in an embryo pose, blanket over her stressed form, covering her back and the bare feet and legs that the knitted bedtime jumper couldn’t. she realized the gamemakers or the Capitol were trying to hide something, nothing else could explain the feed changing and audio going wobbly and earning static in the process. 

the bell ringing at the front door startled her so bad that y/n gasped and jerked in her position on the sofa. her head whipped in its direction and she watched two figures entering her family’s mansion from the far end of the hallway. she could already tell who the two were, but she remained sat on the sofa, her legs unmoving out of anxiety. she shut off the television and just watched them walk towards her through the unlit hallway, arms wrapping around her knees underneath her beloved blanket.

“ms y/l/n, a mister Snow is here, for you,” the housekeeper announced as she and Coriolanus entered the living room, Coriolanus stumbling into the room more than walking into it. he looked like he was falling to pieces. his breath was heavy, hair and academy uniform in disarray, face just... bewildered. y/n nodded at her housekeeper, extended her arms towards Coryo like a child reaching for its favourite toy and sniffled quietly.

“thank you, Nora,” she told the housekeeper, “please leave us. you can go to bed, i won’t need anything else for the night.” she said in a hushed voice and the housekeeper nodded, knowing to listen to the child of her employers. y/n hated giving anyone orders, much less this spectacular lady, but she did want to be alone with Coryo. and by the look of him, she could tell he couldn’t be around anyone else but her. he was a man of privacy, after all.

as soon as Nora shut the door behind her and left for the maids’ quarters, Coryo accepted the plea in y/n’s extended arms and stumbled over to her on the sofa. “i—i’m sorry,” he said the first words out of breath, in a voice so broken and frail that y/n’s lips twitched downwards and she felt the need to cry, “i didn’t know where else to go, i couldn’t... i couldn’t f-face anyone else...” as he sat down before y/n’s bare feet peeking out from the blanket, she noticed in the poor lighting of the room that his clothes were dirty. there were cuts in his shirt, dirt, gravel, sand... blood. 

“what happened?” her voice wouldn’t go any louder than a whisper, and her lips were turning into a pout as she looked Coryo over, her meek hands reaching out for him but unsure whether she should touch him or not. he could fall apart like the frailest glass, it seemed, if anything touched him right now. his face was bruised. there were small cuts on his cheek, blood on his chin. she noticed how they had already been taken care of.

Coryo still took heavy breaths, but finally he felt like his vision was real and not fooling him, and he took in his surroundings. the dim lighting in the posh room, y/n’s bare feet touching his red academy pant leg, her legs pulled up to her chest under a cute throw-blanket in the pastel colour of chocolate milk, her small hands reaching out to him, unsure, unsteady. he lifted his head to look at her, and the expression on her face made his heart lurch in his chest. her glassy eyes – no doubt matching his –, the pout on her lips, her rosy cheeks, eyebrows scrunched in worry and confusion. he could never decline that face. “dr Gaul sent me inside the arena to get Sejanus out,” he finally said, and he spoke in a whisper tone that could only be meant for secrets, “but the tributes heard us... i’m not sure i should even be telling you about this at all,” he admitted.

y/n shook her head. “your secret’s safe with me,” she assured with a gentle nod.

“yes, but dr Gaul—” Coryo began, but she interrupted him in the voice of a faint whisper. 

“i know how terrifying she is,” y/n persisted, “she won’t know that i know.” she said even quieter and looked, really looked, into Coryo’s eyes, and nodded gently again at him. he searched her eyes for a few seconds, weighing the risk of her knowing this, trying to decide if he should tell her more or just cut short here. but really. she’s a loose end and she knows it. it’s not like dr Gaul was in high thoughts of y/n or deemed her more valuable than any other student, and her nature played a big part in that opinion of the young girl. how would she know that y/n found out about this night in the arena? she wouldn’t. it would never come up in conversation. y/n wasn’t part of this.

“the tributes heard us,” Coryo started to say as he sat closer to y/n, his body turned to face her, and almost loomed over her. he’s always been much taller than her, and sometimes that played a part in their dynamic. he took her hands in his above her bent knees and the blanket. he licked his lips and y/n searched his eyes, his... stoic blue eyes. there was a change in them, “they came after us and i...” he shook his head, “i didn’t want to hurt him,” Coryo’s voice broke and his head dropped onto y/n’s covered knees. 

she heard a sob from him, and it shook her entire form, making her gasp quietly. she’d never seen him cry before. the night on the rooftop, in the garden, she knew he was close to it, but she knew he’d never let his pride down so much that he’d let anyone see him cry. and Coryo didn’t feel so good about crying now, about opening himself up to her like this, he felt disgusted with himself. but he also couldn’t stop. and he couldn’t hide everything from her, after all. 

y/n shuffled around until her legs were tucked under herself and she moved closer to Coryo, taking his scarred cheeks between her small hands and lifting his face up so he would see her. she knew she made him nervous usually, but she calculated that that effect flipped around on itself when he was in this state, or one similar to this. breaking apart. feeling vulnerable. beaten down. she looked into his eyes and he back into hers, not really having any other choice. she had this compelling power over him, even if he didn’t want to admit it, and he didn’t want to hide from her. not really.

his breathing slowed down as he just looked into her wondering beautiful orbs, full of so much determination, courage and kindness. she was almost smiling at him, even though she wanted to cry, too, and her eyes were glassy with produced tears, but she wanted to appear strong for him. because right now he really needed a strong anchor to hold onto, he was the one in need of support. y/n took that role mainly in their friendship-relationship, especially at school, when she got herself in trouble, or at home, when her parents were giving her an earful about her irresponsibility and all the jazz they usually gave her an earful about.

last time Coryo and y/n saw each other, she realized he had the ability to ground her. and now she realized she had the ability to ground him, because by looking into his eyes she could see his emotions and mood changing by the second. and all because she’s holding him, and he’s looking into her eyes. he didn’t need much more than that. 

and yet maybe he did. he didn’t know which part of him had the urge, but all of him acted on it by ducking forward and kissing her on the lips. he could taste the sweat she had made on her lips out of stress, and the blueberry tartlet she must have had as a late snack not too long ago. and his hands couldn’t keep away anymore, either, they were taking hold of her face like hers was holding his cheeks between them. y/n would have gasped at his sudden action if she had any air to breathe, and she sighed heavily when he did give her a split second of air after fiery kisses to her delicious lips. 

he kept his eyes on her as he pulled his academy blazer off and threw it to the ground beside the couch, then came back closer to her, one hand on her cheek and the other pulling the adorable blanket off her legs. y/n placed a palm on that hand of his, which made Coryo furrow his eyebrows and look at her with puzzled eyes. didn’t she want this, too? she gulped, eyes averted from his shyly. “i’d rather we talked about it, Coryo,” she admitted and looked back at him carefully, eyes so un-knowing and yet more clever than most people’s. Coryo tilted his head slightly at her words. 

his hands took the bull by its horns, pulling the blanket fully away and welcoming the night air of the mansion upon y/n’s bare legs, making her gasp again. Coryo used the moment of surprise to his advantage and pushed her down on the sofa, sneaking in between her legs like the slippery mastermind he was, and he slid a hand under her knitted jumper, raising goose-bumps in his wake across her stomach and waist. y/n hated that she felt aroused, meaning she felt exactly how he wanted her to, was right where he wanted her, but she couldn’t exactly pull away. she hated being at someone’s mercy, but.... it was Coryo.

she surprised him when he found she wasn’t wearing a bra under her jumper, nothing was standing between his greedy hands and her naked breasts now, though her not wearing a bra at home wasn’t exactly a surprise. it’s just that his inexperienced self was shocked to find a part of her naked, and right there, at his disposal. watching her face, he placed his palm over one of her breasts and ran his thumb over her nipple, which hardened immediately under his touch. and her face, oh, the expression on it was to die for. eyes softly shut, eyebrows gently spasming as she was feeling something very new to her, her teeth biting her lower lip, cheeks turning more red and no doubt burning up. Coryo placed a kiss on her bare stomach, just above the elastic of her underwear, and watched her still as she whimpered for the first time. her thighs fidgeted around him, feet unsurely digging into the soft cushions of her couch—she really didn’t know what to do with herself and these sensations she was experiencing. 

“i’d rather we didn’t,” he said to her finally, though his actions were more than enough of a response to what she said, but she hardly heard him now. there was a gentle static in her ears, and heat all over her writhing form. her pure, supple, untouched form. all for him to touch, to explore. Coryo took his shirt off in a hurry, as if y/n might disappear if he had his hands off her for a second longer, and returned to her half-naked body a hungrier man. hands raking the insides of her thighs, he kissed her again, hot lips making their conversation just moments ago seem like the far past, making her almost forget it happened. y/n could hardly feel her legs, though she knew this was just the beginning, and she wrapped her arms around Coryo’s frame and held onto him as he moved his slender torso against her chest. she could feel the bones of his hips jutting against her own, his growing crotch pressing against her panty-covered soaking cunt, teasing her, making her pant heavily and whimper like a kitten. 

having her like this satiated the hunger that rose from the deep hole he’d created inside himself, gnawing at him like a big black hole with eager, starving claws. every stroke of his hips against hers beat the monster down but dangled the bait in front of it at the same time, leaving him in quite the paradox. this was more than enough, yet Coryo knew he could go further with y/n, further than enough, and that she’d let him. everything in him wanted to, and he couldn’t stop himself. adrenaline was pumping blood from his heart into his veins, she was available and the only one who could help with the hole growing inside him. 

but y/n couldn’t go further without another word spoken. he was avoiding her question, he was avoiding the whole last hour of this night. “Coryo,” she whispered softly as his lips kissed at her neck, tongue sweeping over a particularly bruised-with-kisses spot on her sculpture-like skin, he was an animal let loose. and his affections almost made her forget what she wanted to ask, and she thought maybe she doesn’t really want to know. but y/n sighed, trying to clear her mind, “tell me what happened,” she plead in a quiet voice and it made Coryo raise his head and look into her eyes again. 

he framed the side of her face with only a hand, his thumb on her chin and the rest of his palm splayed across her burning cheek. he loved seeing the look of lust and confusion on her face, in her eyes most of all. the pads of his fingertips softly pushed into her skin. “no,” he remained stubborn, and y/n would have been surprised to have him do otherwise. she gulped softly, hoping he wouldn’t feel it, but no, he felt every motion any part of her made now. his mind came up with a new idea as he slid a hand of his across her stomach, making a wave across her supple body, and then he reached her underwear. he knew, like everyone else did sort of matter-of-factly, that women were to be touched there. he knew it was the spot in her with which he could get her full attention. and he also knew he’d have to fabricate having experience in this field for y/n. he didn’t want her to think him inexperienced, which he was exactly, or least of all that he’s experimenting with her—which was also what he was doing. so he improvised by cupping her warmest place in the body, and he felt an immediate reaction. her thighs fidgeted around his waist again and her stomach lurched. her eyes shut, but he wanted to see them, “open your eyes,” Coryo urged her, and y/n had to force herself to comply, her beautiful eyes looking into his again. they held eye contact as he ran his middle finger in a straight line between her clothed folds, and he watched as her face contorted, caused by the new strange and pleasant feelings. she felt like warm honey on his fingers, “right now all i need is to feel you,” he told her and did the same motion with his finger again, only this time slower, making it pleasurably agonizing for her, coaxing quiet whimpers from her lips, “and this tells me you need it, too.” 

god, she hated that he was right. at first it was want, she wanted him to stay over, to touch her, to feel her, to do things to her that no one else had ever before. now, she felt so desperate for it that she felt she could explode if she didn’t get what seemed to be promised to her. the want grew to need. she wanted to shake her head, wanted to push him off—that would really be characteristic to her. but instead she brought herself to really look into his eyes and nod in response. Coryo’s lips almost made a smile or a grin, almost, she caught the ghost of it in the corner of his lips before he kissed her again. “alright, Coryo,” she whispered against his lips, “but if you don’t touch me properly right now, i willkick you out of my home.” she said surely, admitting to her desperation without shame and in turn – with pride, and now Coryo grinned. her feistiness was one of the things he liked about her, and it coming out in this setting was more than he could have asked for. in a weird way it got him going. 

y/n placed both of her hands on the sides of his face and kept him close to her as he reached his hand into her underwear, breaching into unexplored territory. she was all the warmer for him, and soaking wet. he hummed, their lips nearly touching, but not completely. it was torture for him. he wanted to devour her lips, her whole face, her whole existence. her lips were like the food of life for him, the sounds she made music to his ears and air in his lungs. “you’re just perfect for me,” he confessed to her in a shudder and y/n smiled lightly. his fingers ran through her naked warm folds, just testing the waters, until they found the opening between them, where the wetness and warmth were seeping from. Coryo would have dropped his head onto her shoulder if her hands weren’t holding it up right, but he just felt like he lost his damn mind at how incredible her walls felt around his fingers, and he could collapse right there on top of her. 

“Coryo,” she sang his nickname in a beautiful moan when two fingers prodded inside her, beating any expectations she had about this beforehand. they were long and thick, touching every inch of her, it felt like, and reaching just far enough. she was barely holding onto him, and her body was reacting to his touches immediately. hips moving, back arching, thighs squeezing his body between them, breaths shuddering. 

“no one’s done this to you before, have they?” Coryo asked, but he hardly needed an answer. by the way she was reacting, he could tell that she’d never felt like this before. y/n shaking her head at his question was merely the last dot on the confirmation, yet it still made him more aroused. knowing he was the first one to do this to her, with her. he grazed her upper wall with his finger pads, being careful not to let his nails scrape her, and it brought a moan from her that he’d never heard anyone make. guttural, coming from the very depths of her lungs, her vocal cords, from her very core. it made him shudder. he repeated the motion, slower one time, then faster the next, all the while watching her reaction. he loved seeing her eyes shut, her cheeks become redder, her lips parting, stretching, pushing breaths and whimpers out from between them. Coryo felt one of her hands sliding up into his hair, and he groaned. her hips bucked and she grabbed onto his perfect curls between her fingers when he reached farther inside her with his two fingers, and it made them both moan into each other’s mouths, y/n letting his lips rest over hers. he’d reached that great point inside her, feeling her hot and spongy against his digits. it’s almost like she was sucking him in. “you’re so good for me,” Coryo told her and y/n whimpered at the praise. 

“more, please,” she begged with no shame and Coryo obliged, picking up the pace of his fingers and massaging over her folds with his thumb all the while. when he accidentally grazed over her clit, y/n made a high-pitched moan of the utmost sensitivity, and he knew he’d done the right thing. and by accident, no less. he was on the winning team, “Coryo,” she cried with her eyes shut and he noticed a tear on her cheek, kissing over it immediately. next his lips were on hers again, lapping at her tongue with his own like the starving man he was, knowing nothing of tomorrow or the next hour, just so engulfed in her that he knew nothing else. she was the perfect getaway.

he could feel her body behaving in a different way, thighs trembling around him, walls squeezing his hand in, hands nearly powerless, chest shuddering. she wasn’t far off her release, he guessed. with another press to the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her cry, Coryo once again watched her reaction in amazement. but he didn’t want to feel her release like this, he needed them both different. Coryo pulled his fingers away, once again making y/n cry out, this time in the most desperation she could manage, and she looked up at him with pleading, tearful eyes. he offered her a gentle smile and moved down her body, dragging her underwear with him. down her legs and away, the light pink garment went, and y/n bit her plump lip in anticipation as she watched him. 

Coryo tucked her underwear into the trousers of his academy uniform that he was still wearing and returned to her body, laying kisses across her thighs on his way up to her. y/n squirmed under and around him, mewled, muttering his name in a mewl here and there, relishing in the feeling of his lips on her untouched skin and his hands roaming all over her body, under her jumper, over it, trying to cover every inch of her. she hated that he had stopped touching her right when she was closest to that one sacred edge she wanted so badly to reach, he was teasing her, taunting her, testing her waters. it was clear to her that he had never done this to another girl before. Coryo was just like her, and yet he’d put up a different façade. 

he dug his fingers into the flesh of her naked hips, which made y/n throw her head back into the sofa cushions, baring her delicious-looking neck to Coryo. he used that to his advantage, licking and kissing at the skin of her neck which he had already bruised marked with his lips just moments ago, he was devouring her with a hunger only she could really satiate, and yet he couldn’t get enough of her. his growing crotch pressed against her bare cunt, and y/n gasped at the feeling. eyebrows scrunched, cheeks and lips red and puffy, she looked up at Coryo again, and he returned the gesture. he took one of her hands in his and guided it down to between them, where he was growing harder and in size, it seemed, watching her face all the while and taking notice of her biting down on her lower lip in anticipation. Coryo made her feel him through his trousers, and he couldn’t hide the effect her touch had on him - shuddering throughout his whole body, eyelids fluttering, he was barely able to utter the next words, but he did so in a quiet voice. “feel what you do to me?” 

y/n nodded with lustful eyes, hungry like the wolf for the boy above her. her boldness came back and with it y/n unzipped Coryo’s custom-made trousers and reached into his boxers to really feel him. he had girth and he was solid, she could feel that all with her hand on him. she was making him a panting mess, giving his length a sure stroke, Coryo’s head falling into the crook of her neck and him moaning, though she knew the piece of his pride that died for him to do that. he hardly let anyone see his inner world, his true feelings, so for him to be this vulnerable with her took a great deal of courage. “do i make you... feel like this often?” y/n asked quietly, and Coryo nodded with a whimper as her finger flicked over his tip, pink and sensitive. y/n wrapped her fingers around his shaft and stroked up and down, slowly, looking at his face all the while, wishing she could see his beautiful eyes now, see the emotions swimming around in the blue of them.

Coryo fisted the pillow right beside her, heavy breaths leaving his parted lips, “yes, yes, yes, god, yes,” he chanted in her ear as the pace of her strokes grew faster, and y/n could feel each breaths in his lungs against her own, his chest rising and hitting against her so intensely. she’d made him crumble beneath her so quickly, it surprised her, “i need you, y/n, i need to feel you,” Coryo confessed and managed the strength to raise his head and look at her again. he was too afraid to utter the phrase i need to be inside you, feeling just too shy all of a sudden to say that. the look on his face was pure desperation, he looked like he could start crying the next moment, and y/n’s heart lurched in her chest at seeing that. seeing and recognising that she could make him as desperate as he’d made her. that she could make him small, “no one’s ever made me feel like this before,” he confessed more, breaking his own façade down, and y/n smiled at him sheepishly. she knew, of course, that what he said was true. she knew everything about him.

“you have me,” she assured him and brought him out of the confine of his boxers, making Coryo breathe in relief. he had felt so restricted in his own clothes, “but god, Coryo, will you fit? you feel too big in my hand,” y/n said shyly and bit down on her lip again, a habit that Coryo had noticed her having for quite a while now, and he looked down between them two. y/n knew her comment went straight to his growing ego, but she just couldn’t resist teasing him a little. and when he caught onto it, he looked at her again, with a smile on his lips this time. she grinned wide and giggled before she took his face in her hands and kissed his lips, as if it was her first time doing so. simple, loving, affectionate. 

suddenly she fully took in the look of his naked torso, his amazingly sculpted shoulders and arms, his pearly chest... the sight of him was so breath-taking and delicious that she nearly forgot all her other surroundings. Coryo, though the look her eyes were giving him flattered him so, took the bull by its horns again and pushed the very tip of his hard length through her folds, where her warm opening welcomed him. y/n felt a strain while Coryo felt the beginning of a true release, but he noticed her awkward expression, felt her hold on his face falter, and he paused his movements to just check in. 

“alright?” he asked quietly, as he couldn’t tell what to do next by her face, “too big for you?” he teased and it made them both smile, then erupt into mad giggles in unison. y/n would never have expected Coryo to have humour in a moment like this, but she was relieved that he did, and god did it make the whole thing easier. she wasn’t worried, wasn’t anxious anymore, wasn’t feeling insecure about any aspect of herself anymore. except the thing she’d heard that happened to most women on their first time – the bleeding, the pain, his reaction to it. those were the few things she wanted to avoid happening. but if Coryo was his sweetheart-self, then she had no bad reaction to worry about. she was glad he was the person she was doing it for the first time with, she’d really lucked out.

“just a little,” she finally answered after their giggle fit while holding each other in their arms, “try going deeper,” she urged in a hushed voice, and Coryo complied, adjusting his hips forward, slowly, not to accidentally hurt her more. he couldn’t deny how incredible this felt, how incredible she felt around him, her walls sucking him right in so tightly, “ohmygodohmygod,” y/n pushed the words out in a quick breath, feeling a burn and stretch inside of her at the size of him. she didn’t have anyone to compare Coryo to, and no one else had been inside her before, but he felt big enough. 

Coryo appreciated her arm on his back, her nails digging half-moons into his pearly skin, and her other hand splayed across his cheek, thumb almost digging a hole in his cheek. “you feel so perfect around me,” Coryo praised against her parted lips, and y/n could only look at him with strain and tears in her eyes as he inched himself further and further inside, her face changing by every inch, it seemed, until he had bottomed out with a groan and she’d only felt a momentary sting of pain. and the worst part was over—what a miracle it was that it had been so quick for her, she’d expected otherwise. Coryo could see the immediate relaxation on her features, and he smiled. 

he kissed away her fallen tears, but more kept falling from her eyes and y/n could only explain them as being happy tears, though she scolded herself for being so emotional in a meaningful moment like this. but maybe it was just right. Coryo smiled at her and she could see his orbs being glossy, too, and she was glad. it was no wonder, really, taking how shaken he was when he came into her home and sat down on her couch beside her. he was still in turmoil, but that didn’t matter now. he had her. 

“can i try... moving? you feel alright?” he asked her in a whisper. this slow thrust inside her had already felt like heaven, he couldn’t wait to repeat it over and over and over. 

y/n nodded, “yeah, go ahead,” she said and Coryo complied. she took in the feeling of him pulling out gently, slowly... teasingly. he was grinning, she saw, and she shook her head in disbelief as a beautiful smile adorned her features. and then he thrust inside her again, stuffing her walls with his great length, making her back arch and moans that she’s never made before escape her lips. he could hardly concentrate, but he didn’t want to miss all the different facial expressions she would make, the look in her eyes, while he made love to her now. he made himself keep his eyes open as he began to move rhythmically now. 

y/n’s legs wrapped around his waist, engulfing him in her more and more, and each of his thrusts earned him a squeak from her from the movements. god, he just adored her beyond measure. she was everything he needed now, and later, and forever. Coryo kissed her neck, licked at it, as he had before, and it only made her moan more, each moan in its own unique high or low pitch, and dig her fingers into whichever part of his skin she was holding. Coryo adored her touches, they turned him on, and he wanted her hands on him always, they were a lifeline. his hands gripped her waist, her sweater bunched just above them, only covering her arms and her breasts, though barely even those from how much Coryo was moving her.

“you're doing so good for me,” he breathed into her ear, and the praise only spurred her on. she clenched around him, and it made Coryo break his focus completely, his head dropping onto y/n’s chest, where he breathed hot air onto her skin, “i’m sorry, i think i’m close,” he confessed, and y/n raised his face with her hands, looking at him with puzzlement across her face. 

“me too, it’s okay,” she assured him and then took one of his hands in hers and lead it down to where their bodies met. she laid his palm over the bulge that had formed in her lower stomach from him. the sight and feel of it made Coryo groan, getting him all the more closer to his release. 

“fuck, that’s amazing,” he said into her neck, and y/n nodded.

“you’re so big, Coryo,” she complimented him again and felt his dick twitch inside her at the words, “made a bump in me,” she put it into words and it made the boy nearly lose his mind. then she guided his hand just a little lower and pressed his hand onto her clit, where he recalled was her most vulnerable point, “come on, touch me. we’ll do it together,” she urged him on in the sweetest of angel voices and Coryo didn’t need to think twice before complying. he loved her ordering him around a little, it was much needed tonight especially. 

he pressed his thumb against her clit as his hips had nearly reached their fastest pace, and watched as her face twisted in pleasure. eyes shutting, lips spasming, closing, opening, teeth biting, voice singing out to him. “oh, Coryo,” she called his name and he felt it go straight to his heart. there wasn’t much more that he needed in order to come now, and he prided in himself for lasting so long at all, all the while feeling a little ashamed about it. he wanted this to last longer. but since he could tell she was coming, too, his thumb drawing harsh circles on her clit to bring it on, he revelled in them both finishing at once. 

“fuuuck, y/n, i love you,” he whimpered into her ear as he spilled himself inside her tightly-squeezing walls while y/n all but chanted his nickname like a mantra. her hands almost drew blood on his back from how tightly she held onto him, and she shuddered around him at the feeling of her own release coating his entire length. her thighs trembled and she panted heavy breaths against his neck. she’d almost missed his quiet confession, she’d actually heard it amidst their joined euphoria, but she had thought it a hallucination. 

but that assumption dissipated as she came to and looked up at Coryo, whose eyes were worriedly, with tears streaming from them, looking down at her. she quickly moved her hands to his cheeks and tried to sit up in their awkward position. best she could do was position herself higher on her pillow against the sofa’s armrest, and she gulped. “you love me?” she echoed in the smallest of voices, searching his eyes. they were worried, fearful. what if he’d said the wrong thing? what if she felt different about him, different than what he felt about her? what if he’d said it too soon? what if he’d just ruined all this with her? 

but he did love her. he was sure of it. so he nodded, his curls bouncing with the confirming movement. y/n ran her hand over them and smiled wide at him. 

“you love me,” she said again, surely this time, in a happy tone of voice. as if she’d discovered the best, most well-wishing secret in the whole world. and perhaps that’s what it was. her favourite secret about Coryo was that she knew he loved her, “i love you, too,” y/n told him before he could assume otherwise, and kissed his trembling lips. Coryo felt on top of the world. he had said the right thing, he’d played his cards right, he’d told her how he felt. of course, his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it in words meant the world to y/n. 

“thank god, you had me worried there for a bit,” Coryo half-joked between their kisses, and it made her laugh. she pulled back from his lips and admired the boy above her. forehead glistening from sweat in the dim lighting, curls messily falling over his beautiful face, his pearly chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. 

“who would i be without a little suspense, huh?” she asked and smiled at him again. she could see complete love and devotion in his eyes, two things she’d seen on his face only partly or half-meant before, and only towards herself. Coryo used the moment of silence to pull out of her and stuff himself back into his trousers. sitting against the sofa cushions to do it, he glanced at her cunt and saw it leaking with his white substance. y/n looked at him with sultry eyes and her teeth biting her lower lip, arms crossed over her chest, and she spread her legs just a little further to tease him with a wider look, “like what you see?” she asked quietly.

he just gave her eyes of total surrender, he was waving the white flag for giving up and he took a deep breath. y/n giggled as Coryo shook his head in disbelief and lowered his face down to her center, once again giving her anticipation. “you look so pretty,” he complimented and ran a finger through her folds, making her shudder as more of the snow-white liquid pooled out and coated her cunt, “pretty with me dripping out of you,” Coryo sneaked a glance up at her and saw the clear-as-day lust in her eyes. feeling that animalistic urge take over him again, he brought out his tongue and lapped up each drop coming out of her. y/n felt sensitive, sore, and Coryo was giving her a mix of both pleasure and pain as he drank at her. she had him right where she wanted him. the question was – would he stay there? 

his tongue prodded at her entrance just a tad, heightening her sensitivity, and he moaned against her folds at her shudder under him, giving her folds a kiss over once he was done. he wanted to leave most of his spill inside her, only having lapped up and gulped down what was excess. sitting up before her, between her legs, Coryo licked his lips and leaned over her form. y/n pulled him in for a kiss, and could taste something salty and something sweet all at once on his lips and tongue. it was both of them. 

“will you please stay?” y/n asked her in her small voice again, looking into Coryo’s eyes. she hoped to not find any resistance or decline, and her hopes were fulfilled. “please,” she plead more as he teased her with his silence. he nodded, and it made her smile wider than ever. he would stay over, like he promised her he would someday. it meant he didn't view her only as a secret anymore. maybe they could even go to Heavensbee hall tomorrow together, maybe hand in hand... “why did you say sorry? about being close?” she reminded him of the few moments before their euphorias. Coryo bent his head low for a moment. 

“just felt embarrassed,” he answered, “about not lasting long. i just... i just wanted this to last longer for you,” he told her and managed to look at her again. y/n made a comforting face and stroked the side of his face. she understood. 

“yeah, but it’s okay,” she assured him, “there will be other times,” she pointed out and laid a kiss to his cheek, “it was your first time, so please don’t worry your beautiful head over it.” Coryo managed a ghost of a smile just for y/n to kiss him and make his smile more life-like. “you did good, Coryo.” those words of praise went straight to his dick again, and he blushed. she had made him blush. y/n giggled. 

“you did great, too,” Coryo told her and kissed her hair, “thank you. i never would have wanted to do this with anyone else but you,” he confessed as they held tight eye contact. y/n’s heart surged at his words. 

“me too. i’m glad it was you,” she said and it made Coryo smile with shut lips, “now, can i get my underwear back?” she’d made a joke again, and Coryo felt like playing along further. 

“no, i’m keeping it,” he said in a hushed voice, shaking his head and y/n made a playful pout. she’d want to make him think he could keep it and that she’d steal it back later, but she couldn’t. Coryo having her underwear in the pocket of his academy trousers made her feel somehow proud. a piece of her with him wherever he goes. and if he went home and stashed them somewhere in his wardrobe cabinet, that would be fine, too. she loved knowing her underwear was a token for him. 

she only said, “alright,” and took his hand in hers, “let’s go shower and then to bed. you’ve exhausted me.” she admitted and Coryo took it as a compliment. he wanted this treacherous-turned-great day to end, too, and she was the cherry on top of it all. he wouldn’t have gone home tonight for anything. 

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[rageprufrock]

I had to write this down so it would stop being inside of my brain--devil judge stupidity

I have a clinical dx that proves I lack the emotional self regulation to stop myself from doing stupid things and I just really really want to write something funny okay!!!! No clue if this is going anywhere. I have approx 100 ideas right now and can't be held responsible for my actions.

Actually, the whole thing is Elijah's fault, because if she exercised any of the restraint she used on the Korean-speaking internet for her English language shitposting accounts, they wouldn't be in this mess at all.

That said, she'll argue to the death that if her shitty uncle is going to subject her to his sweaty, old man chest and walk around the house after one of his workouts dripping sweat with his workout pants half-hanging off of his ass, she's going to shame him like truth coming out of her Instagram.

Unfortunately, the general reaction to her caption ("god my uncle is so gross") turns out to be a tsunami of absolutely unhinged horny commentary from a community she'd previously believed to be upright, clear-minded young women with promising careers in STEM. There's a run on eggplant emojis. There are so many eyeballs. Prayer hands left and right. People are calling Yohan "daddy" in sixteen languages.

It's funny in an absolutely repulsive way, and here, even Elijah has to admit to culpability, because in retrospect, when someone had commented, "so can your auntie fight?" she absolutely should not have posted a picture of Gaon from his army service, sun bronzed with his arms out, and said, "lol yeah."

Yohan works approximately 18 hours a day with breaks for the gym, to psychologically torture her over dinner, and an hour where Elijah puts on her noise canceling headphones and assiduously does not listen to whatever the fuck is happening down the hall in his bedroom. But he's also the nosiest, most intrusive person on the face of the earth with a squadron of terminally online assistants so it's only a matter of time before he's going to find out he's now internet famous and that there's an AO3 tag for "hot uncle/soldier boy (not The Boys)" and destroys all of her electronic equipment.

Gaon, who hasn't logged into social media in like three years, could feasibly go to his grave not knowing--except that he works in the juvenile court system which means she's not totally surprised when he comes home on Tuesday with a weird look on his face and says:

"Elijah, I think we've been hacked," he says, because he's a genuinely nice person who must have committed some kind of heinous crime in a past life to attract Kangs left and right. "I think someone got into our phones, or our wifi. One of my clients showed me a post today that looks like someone stole a CCTV picture of Yohan, and then posted some old picture from when I was in the army."

Elijah is listening with an active grimace on her face, trying to decide what to say and how to say it, when the SmartHome speaker crackles to life and Yohan's voice echoes out of it, saying:

"Kang Elijah, did you out Gaon and I with your fake instagram."

[actual-changeling]

when gabriel/jim (jabriel?? gim?????) talks about his "one particular person", aziraphale's smile is such a blink and you will miss it moment but so incredibly precious and we don't pay enough attention to it.

so, welcome to another round of alex's unhinged meta corner where i over-analyse micro expressions while losing some more braincells.

firstly, here's a clip of that scene just so we are all on the same page since i don't know how much time everyone else spends watching that show. don't ask me it's probably at least 6 hours a day at this point

what i want to focus on is aziraphale's reaction to jabriel's words right after "person". did i slow the clip down and then go through it frame by frame to get the following screencaps? yes. yes i did.

there are two parts to this, the spaced-out smile and then his shock/fear. also before we start can i just say how fucking insane whoever made the trailer was for putting the 1941 dinner scene RIGHT THERE??? with THAT expression??????? yeah. no. i need therapy for that alone.

anyway.

while he is talking, aziraphale is looking at jabriel the entire time, but honestly, i don't think he is actually seeing him, he's neck-deep in his memories of crowley. he as that sparkle in his eyes he tends to get around crowley/looking at crowley and that smile appears rather slowly (or as slow as something can be while lasting less than a second).

personally, i'd call that expression "completely and utterly in love" or besotted if you wanna keep it simple. a content little smile meant for no one except himself, the kinda look he probably wears in private while calling crowley to ask him to come hang out. aziraphale loves him and in this short moment, he knows it - and so do we.

when jabriel (preferable over gim, in my opinion) trails off, aziraphale remembers that hey, wait a minute. that's my boss. that's the archangel fucking gabriel. he can't know about me and crowley.

at this point, neither we nor he know what exactly is up with jabriel, so there is a very real danger that everything aziraphale says or shows will be reported back to heaven. the shock sets in, the smile disappear and aziraphale falls from cloud 9 (pun intended) and lands face first back on earth.

while aziraphale does not have crowley's memory of what exactly went down in heaven when they tried to burn him to a crisp, he has always been incredibly anxious around gabriel and the other archangel. he is fidgeting, unable to stand still or even keep his gaze from flicking around. the only moment he calms is, you guessed it, when he is zoned out and thinking of crowley.

the very real fear that settles on his face is not just about himself, it is mostly about crowley. if heaven knows, hell will, too. everyone knows about the back channels, most just try and keep up plausible deniability. the fact that it is michael who seems to be directly in contact with hell for the most part and not gabriel is worthy of its own post at some point.

another thing worth mentioning is that aziraphale is so afraid, in fact, that he physically backs away from jabriel and gets as much distance between them as possible. jabriel looks like a lost toddler, very non-threatening, but the trauma runs so deep that it does not matter how much of a danger he really is right now. he has been a constant threat for over six thousand years, you cannot deconstruct your view of a person, especially your boss, that quickly. not even if they turn up with total amnesia on your doorstep. naked.

this was less unhinged than some of my other posts but i think this is a moment that gets overlooked a lot. at least i haven't seen anyone talking about it yet since we are all understandably focused on the ending of episode 6.

[bestworstcase]

Any thoughts on "The Sky is Falling"? I happened to be listening to it the other day and went "wow, this seems like something BestWorstCase would have Thoughts about", but searching your blog didn't turn anything up on it. If Tumblr search has failed me (probably not for the last time), I'd be interested to see what you've written before; otherwise, I'd be interested to hear now :)

ough i do have thoughts. many thoughts. idk if i’ve ever posted them, partly because i argue with myself a lot about whether it’s a hound song or an ozma song brfghks. much as i’d like it to be the hound for rotating him reasons, though, i do think ozma is a stronger textual reading.

unhinged about songs hours ->

the motif of the sky falling obviously calls to mind the chicken little folktale, of which there are numerous variations but in all of them the kerfuffle over the sky falling is hysterical: the danger is not real. in some versions of the tale, a sly fox incites the panic on purpose at the beginning and then eats the frightened birds who turn to him for help at the end.

the song’s narrative placement also connects it to atlas, and thence to atlas telamon, the titan who holds up the sky on his shoulders. (not the world—that’s a common misconception; classical images of atlas shouldering a globe depict the celestial sphere. it’s the sky.)

so we have on one hand the apocalyptic motif of the sky falling, and on the other the very real danger to atlas, conflated together: if atlas falls, so too must the sky… except that ‘the sky is falling’ is idiomatically an irrational fear. atlas may fall—that danger is real—but the world will not end if it does. the song’s central motif implies paranoid hysteria.

there is also the latin maxim fiat justitia ruat caelum, let justice be done though the skies fall. i go back and forth on whether i think the writers specifically have that in mind, in relation to this motif, but: “it’s important not to lose sight of what drives us—love, justice, reverence” and “in pursuit of a new world, no cost is too great.” fiat justitia, ruat caelum. that’s the salem perspective.

and i bring that up because of sacrifice:

Born an angel, heaven-sent Falls from grace are never elegant Stars will drop out of the sky, The moon will sadly watch the roses die In vain, Lost, no gain But you’re not taking me.

and

Show them gods and deities, Blind and keep the people on their knees. Pierce the sky, escape your fate, The more you try, the more you’ll just breed hate And lies. Truth will rise, Revealed by mirrored eyes.

with its similarly apocalyptic imagery (‘stars will drop out of the sky’/‘pierce the sky, escape your fate’) in relation to ozma and his task, and salem positioning herself in opposition (‘but you're not taking me’/‘truth will rise’)—fiat justitia, ruat caelum.

hence, ozma song.

‘the sky is falling’ is directly a dark mirror to ‘touch the sky’ but it’s also—i think more interestingly—a sardonic reflection on ‘until the end’ if one reads both songs as articulations of ozma’s perspective.

emotionally, ‘until the end’ leaves off here:

Love brings us dreams, But grief makes the heart burst at the seams. As light fills my eyes, I’ll picture me beside her, And pray that I’ll inspire, I promise I’ll be here until… …our story has been told. Til our bodies break down every door. Til we find what we’ve been looking for.

it’s a dream—a fantasy—ozma finding hope in this imagined scenario where he can be with salem again. i’ll picture me beside her.

and then she, uh. captures him:

Here comes another nightmare, Another fever dream. The horror just won’t stop, An endless scream, But this is not subconscious; We’re not imagining. We’re wide awake, This is reality.

lol.

‘until the end’ is very lovelorn and idealistic, and also fundamentally passive: though “desperate to make amends,” the promise ozma makes is to… wait. to do nothing. to hope for salem to make the first move.

and well. she does. this is what ‘the sky is falling’ is about, the collision of ozma’s romantic fantasies with the harsh reality of the situation.

Our world’s Lost without a soul. We’re losing all control, Not getting closer. Every day is just another dose of torture. Now we pay the cost. The race is lost, This nightmare’s Our real life.

points.

OSCAR: It should not be this hard getting people to just cooperate. OZ: And yet, it’s something I’m becoming increasingly concerned about.

this is what oz is worrying about all morning while the hound stalks oscar across mantle, how difficult it is to get anyone to “just cooperate.” because—contrary to the popular fanon—he is in fact still committed to his task and he does still, on some level, believe that remnant is damned and its people are missing something fundamental; his secrecy and manipulation, his guiding interest in silver-eyes and maidens and elevated ‘guardians’ and ‘symbols of hope,’ his all speak to his lack of true faith in humanity. and that traces back to what the god of light told him.

(since people love to cite ozpin’s commentary on ‘the story of the seasons’ as “evidence” that he’s abandoned his task by misinterpreting “I fear that if unrestricted magic use were possible, the results would be chaotic and catastrophic” to mean that ozpin thinks people are better off without magic rather than ozpin justifying his efforts to control the maidens; here’s part of his commentary on ‘the two brothers.’

Whether or not you believe in the Brothers, or in this story in particular, the underlying message still holds value: We are burdened with responsibility for our world, and we share a common destiny. Like the twin gods, we are intricately connected with one another, and if we can learn to work and live together, we can create things greater than the sum of their parts. Remnant survived the Great War, but while the four kingdoms now cooperate and coexist, our bond seems tenuous. We have a fragile peace, and in some ways, we are more divided than ever. Even if the gods aren’t real, even if they don’t return to judge us for our deeds, we should act each day as though they are arriving tomorrow. In the end, we will be the arbiters of our fates. We will either create a beautiful, peaceful world and live in harmony together or destroy ourselves and our planet, and the gods will judge what we have chosen.

in which he not only states his belief in his mandate and the inevitability of divine judgment outright, in plain terms, but also repeats the same fear he confided in salem thousands of years ago, that despite finding happiness or achieving peace, he worries that people are “more divided than ever.”)

thus: “our world’s/lost without a soul/we’re losing all control/not getting closer.” oz has become “increasingly concerned” about how hard it is to “get people to just cooperate.” and so “every day is just another dose of torture,” because, well…

To live free or die, it’s all the same. The enemy was right, there’s no reclaiming. In waves of shame, We’re desperate to make amends

…he knows salem is right. his task is impossible; things can never go back to the way they were. the old world, the world of the brothers, is gone and trying to reclaim it will achieve nothing but destroying remnant.

and yet he cannot bring himself to believe it, because to him this would amount to condemning the world, to admitting that remnant is broken and irredeemable and must be destroyed because it cannot be saved. to him, salem’s rejection of the mandate is horrifying—tantamount to a a declaration that nothing in the world is worth trying to save.

in her mind, rejecting the mandate is an act of defiance: remnant does not need to be saved because there is nothing wrong with it, and where he sees damnation, salem finds freedom. and that’s what ripped them apart.

‘sacrifice’ makes this point also:

Did the things you thought you should, All the things they said were good. All your faith in ancient ways Leaves you trapped inside a maze. […] Even with the lives you stole, Still no closer to your… goal.

that ozma’s faith in the god of light imprisons him in a futile, impossible quest because he can’t escape his belief that the world is broken, that salem’s freedom is really damnation. he achieves so much—he united the four human kingdoms after the great war and ushered in an era of unprecedented worldwide peace—and still, in ozpin’s own words, he sees only that people are “more divided than ever.”

the chorus of ‘the sky is falling’:

Better cover up your eyes, my friend, The sky is falling, Can’t outrun the ruin of our lives. Be prepared, we’re near the end, The final days are calling. Hold on now, The sky is falling down.

similarly echoes the motif of blindness that appears in ‘sacrifice’ (“close your eyes now, time for dreams/death is never what it seems” and “show them gods and deities/blind and keep the people on their knees”) and, more obliquely, in ‘until the end’ (“love brings us dreams/but grief makes the heart burst at the seams/as light fills my eyes/i’ll picture me beside her” -> the light is death, the light is love, love brings us dreams and death is never what it seems).

the first two lines of the chorus are also a direct inversion of ‘trust love’: “better cover up your eyes, my friend/the sky is falling” vs “trust love/and open up your eyes.” which is salient because ‘trust love’ is chiefly about ozlem; it’s in conversation with ‘sacrifice’ and ‘until the end’ and on top of the central motif of love restoring sight there is also, “if you could only open up a door/spread your wings and fly away from here/write yourself into a fairytale/all your problems would just disappear.” the you is ozma.

and that makes ‘trust love’ + ‘until the end’ + ‘the sky is falling’ really um, pointed foreshadowing:

All you have to be Is here in reality Leave your fantasy You’ll find the key  To victory I know the dark’s returning And the fires of hate are burning But the lies can’t hide what’s true When love’s alive

in one sense ‘until the end’ is the fantasy and reality ensues in ‘the sky is falling’, but in another—deeper, more important—‘until the end’ is also the truth which ozma keeps hidden from himself, and ‘the sky is falling’ is the act of self-deception; better cover up your eyes, my friend, the sky is falling.

so all of this—all of it—this is the false narrative oz has constructed about himself and salem, his blindness:

A curse that’s Never-ending This path with No escape No sudden death We’re trapped In slow decay These words are Not symbolic The torment’s All too real Eternal enemy Our fate is sealed We slide Further down the hole The damage takes its toll Helpless and broken Failed to stem the Tide of pain The floodgates open Now it’s one more sin As evil wins And misery steals Our lives

notice too how this section of the song reflects darkly on the hope and longing expressed in ‘until the end.’

ozma let himself imagine a reprieve (“time falls away/but pain always finds a way to stay/the tears that you’ve shed/will find a tree to water/but only when you’re stronger”), which he now scathingly reminds himself is impossible: his curse is never-ending, there is no escape even in death, he’s trapped in slow decay, his fate as her eternal enemy is sealed.

he admitted to himself that he wished to make amends and for just a moment he let himself believe that he could (“and stare with pride into the face of fear/in our finest hour, i’ll be standing here/and should we fall to darkness/this power i will harness/i promise i’ll be here until the end”), and now he mocks himself for it: he has done nothing but decay, corrupted more and more with every lifetime as he becomes unrecognizable to himself; the damage takes its toll. helpless. broken. he can’t make the pain stop, he can’t fix anything, he can’t save either of them.

oz found enough courage and hope to crawl back out of his darkness and try, once more, to do the right thing—to make amends—and what happened when he tried? “i’m not upset that you left. i’m upset you came back.”

that conversation, oz trying to apologize and being told that he’d done wrong again, made a mistake again, happened at most an hour or two before the hound caught them. one more sin as evil wins, cue the chorus.

and then the song turns inside out. (pour one out for the terrible rap 😔)

Lost all my hopes And dreams Watch my life flash By in scenes And it seems there’s No soul on the  Video screen But I’m green tryin’ To figure out what All of it means Staring at the casket Hoping to move past it Knowing things will Never be the same And that’s it Cold soaked as I stand in the rain Feeling nothing but pain Until I see you again

clears throat. not a metaphor. this is about the lost fable—ozma very literally watched his life flash by in scenes, narrated by jinn in ozpin’s own words, and then he retreated into isolation to think about it. not to brood or sulk but to reflect; he comes back with a very clear idea of what he did wrong and how he wants to change because he used that time to, well, try to figure out what all of it meant, knowing things will never be the same.

and that’s it?

this part of the song is an emotional echo of the regret and longing expressed in ‘until the end’; “love brings us dreams/but grief makes the heart burst at the seams/as light fills my eyes/i’ll picture me beside her/and pray that i’ll inspire” -> “cold soaked as/i stand in the rain/feeling nothing but pain/until i see you again” it’s the same idea.

that salem is his hope, his comfort. deep down in his heart of hearts ozma… wants to see her again. ‘until the end’ hints that it isn’t a coincidence that oz makes his hopeful return in the same hour that salem reaches atlas. here, too, “nothing but pain/until i see you again.” a flicker of hope. because the hound is taking them to her.

and then:

Feel the waves crash Loud and hard Oh God Lost control I think I’m gonna lose it All my sanity’s slipping away Oh Lord Press record I’d die without the music Each breath is closer To my death Except that which is, This life There’s none left Let my demons live on Through my legacy Study my pedigree I need therapy

he catches himself feeling that small glimmer of hope and freaks out. lost control, sanity’s slipping away. every breath is bringing him closer to death, oscar will die, his demons will live on in his next host, he needs therapy. why did he even think that?

where you seek comfort, you will only find pain. his heart knows that isn’t true, but ozma is still fighting tooth and nail to force himself to believe it; cue the chorus. better cover up your eyes, my friend, the sky is falling.

[thefandomenchantress]

So I know I’m a little late to the party on this one, but I wanna talk about the David MV.

I finally decided to watch that nearly three hour video on the Literature Girl Insane MV, (by @/1moreff-creator) and HOLY SHIT IT’S SO GOOD. I wish I watched it sooner and wonder why I didn’t, I watch almost exclusively 1+ hour videos about random topics I know nothing about, and now there’s one for something I care a lot about! Why didn’t I watch immediately?!?

But my lapse in sanity aside, it finally got me motivated enough to talk about the David MV!

…Except only the part about Ace because of course that’s all I want to talk about. 9 out of 10 of my posts are either about him or have him involved somehow.

Anyways! Here’s the part I find very interesting!

This is arguably where Ace is most relevant, and therefore it makes sense I want to talk about it today.

Now, first things first, the Roman numeral. V (five) is Ace’s Roman numeral, as assigned by the crossword. The line attached is:

“Right now, why do you go insane?”

Which definitely fits. Ace could easily be framed as going insane, because he has mental breakdowns at a worryingly high frequency. Him and Veronika (who this might also be referring to if color theory is to be believed) are basically assigned the role of being seen as mentally unhinged within the class.

(…Ever think about how weird it is that the title is Literature Girl Insane, implying the star of the MV, David, is going insane, yet Ace is the one getting called insane, possibly by David? I think that’s interesting. But let’s get back on track.)

As established by other Roman numerals, the words in the background when a numeral shows itself also apply the character attached to said numeral. This is most obviously shown in the line near the top of the photo.

“A cat has 9 additional lives”

This is also easily applicable to Ace, since he survived Nico’s murder attempt against all odds. If Eden and Teruko hadn’t just so happened to be on the 2nd floor and walked into the gym when they did, he would’ve died. While the actual methodology of Nico’s murder attempt is unknown, it’s also possible that him even surviving long enough for Teruko and Eden to find them was a miracle. Either way, it fits.

The last quote on-screen intrigues me the most. It’s a quote from Hamlet.

“I am but mad north-northwest. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a hand saw.”

Now, first let’s look at just those words, without further context. It’s important we know what the words themselves mean before we do anything else. Let’s start with the definition of north-northwest, since that word is pretty important to the quote.

I’m sure most are familiar with north, east, south, and west. The four main directions on a compass. As well as Northeast, Southeast, Southwest, and Northwest. That splits the compass into eight directions, splitting the sections of north, east, south, and west in half.

Similarly, north-northwest is a direction that comes from splitting the compass into sixteen parts. It’s the half of the northwest section that’s closer to north.

Next, what the hell does “I know a hawk from a handsaw” mean? It’s almost half the quote, so it’s important we know.

Well…*extremely loud sigh* Shakespeare, as you know, was alive a very long time ago. As such, he writes in old-time-y English that’s hard to understand. And this quote has the misfortune of being something people argue over the translation of, at least as far as I could tell while researching.

Some people think Shakespeare meant a heronsaw, a type of bird, not a handsaw. Others think that no, he meant handsaw, but heron, in his time period, was also a common word for a tool that holds plaster/mortar/etc..

Either way, Shakespeare was probably referring to two types of birds, or two types of tools, which have key differences from one and other. I don’t think which one the DRDTdev thought was right really matters in this instance, since the quote makes sense either way. 15/16s of the time, Hamlet (the speaker of the quote) is sane and can tell two birds/tools apart.

The quote is, in summary, saying that Hamlet is mad only when it’s north-northwest, aka 1/16th of the time (I’m not sure if that somehow connects to there being 16 participants in the killing game, but I’m going to assume it doesn’t). The other 15/16s of the time, Hamlet is perfectly sane, thank you very much.

So, without context, this quote is saying that Ace is only insane 1/16th of the time. The rest of the time he’s sane.

Next, I think another important thing we have to do is take into account the whole screenshot as a whole. By that I mean we should not only look at each line individually, but how they relate to each other. In bold is the “why do you go insane?” Line, and to the left, in a font that blends more into the background, is the Hamlet line.

There is a contradiction of opinions here. One person says, “Why do you go insane?” while the other insists they’re only a little bit insane.

This could be referring to the opinions of David and Ace. After all, one could argue it was David underestimating Ace that led to his secret being revealed. David doesn’t bother being careful around Ace in the trial, despite Ace’s volatile nature. He piles suspicion onto Ace by saying it’s weird he didn’t see him on the second floor the night before the murder, even though it isn’t. After all:

Ace was in the gym. David was in the relaxation room. Those are on opposite sides of the floor, so of course David wouldn’t have seen Ace. He didn’t even have to walk anywhere close to the room Ace was in. But David saying this information like it’s weird and suspicious makes everyone else think it is.

David thinks: But what’s Ace gonna do about it? Somehow get the whole class on his side, even though almost everyone likes me more? Is everyone really going to trust the mentally unstable (one could say insane), dumb, cowardly jockey over me?

Yes, yes they will.

All this is to say, David, in the grand scheme of things, doesn’t really care about Ace throughout chapter two. He steals Nico’s secret from him, antagonizes him in the trial, and doesn’t care. Ace doesn’t matter. Ace, of all people, can’t be the one to ruin him. So who cares if Ace dislikes him? Ace is of no use to David, and Ace certainly isn’t smart enough to figure out David’s scheme. This is what David believes.

However, this leads to him not taking Ace’s volatile nature seriously enough, believing he is above the harm of someone like him. But hey, even a pawn can play a vital part in checkmating a king.

When David pisses off Ace, believing Ace can’t do anything besides get angry, yell, and make himself look more suspicious…That turns out to be a crucial mistake that ruins everything.

…Y’know, the irony of the class idiot being the one to beat the so-called master manipulator will never not be funny to me.

Anyways, we can sort of apply this to Hamlet, too. If Ace is Hamlet, since this is Hamlet’s line, and David is Claudius, his father-in-law, we do have a pretty good parallel.

Claudius, who secretly killed Hamlet’s father and then took his throne, is secretly not as righteous as he seems. However, Hamlet finds out about Claudius being the one who killed his father and seeks revenge. Claudius thinks Hamlet to be mad, but when Claudius isn’t around, Hamlet says, “But my uncle-father (Claudius) [is] deceived. I am but mad north-northwest. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a hand saw.” Eventually, Hamlet kills Claudius. So in DRDT terms, Ace finds out about David’s manipulation, David is unaware of this, and Ace eventually kills David’s public persona. Obviously this is an extreme simplification of the plot, but still.

…Of course, there’s also a chance this contradiction of opinions isn’t about Ace and David specifically. After all, David isn’t the only one to boil Ace down to his core traits of “dumb, angry, overall not a well-adjusted individual”. The whole class does this, at least for the most part. This Hamlet quote could just be trying to say what Ace has been saying. That everyone sees him as a loudmouth, stupid, cowardly and nothing more, when in reality there’s more to him than that.

I might have gone a little overboard with this part…I got excited…Hopefully this all actually makes sense, I had to revise some of this post because it got ramble-y and overall pretty cluttered.

So yeah. Here’s my (very late) contribution to the David MV discussion. Here’s what I think Ace’s part means. If you want me to elaborate anywhere, feel free to tell me, or if you want to tell me your thoughts, I’d love to see that!

[meret118]

The political press’s efforts to rationalize Trump’s incoherent statements are eroding our shared reality and threatening informed democracy.

. . .

 As Trump’s statements grow increasingly unhinged in his old age, major news outlets continue to reframe his words, presenting a dangerously misleading picture to the public.

. . .

For instance, last week, Trump posted the following to his Truth Social account:

I have reached an agreement with the Radical Left Democrats for a Debate with Comrade Kamala Harris. It will be Broadcast Live on ABC FAKE NEWS, by far the nastiest and most unfair newscaster in the business, on Tuesday, September 10th, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Rules will be the same as the last CNN Debate, which seemed to work out well for everyone except, perhaps, Crooked Joe Biden. The Debate will be “stand up,” and Candidates cannot bring notes, or “cheat sheets.” We have also been given assurance by ABC that this will be a “fair and equitable” Debate, and that neither side will be given the questions in advance (No Donna Brazile!). Harris would not agree to the FoxNews Debate on September 4th, but that date will be held open in case she changes her mind or, Flip Flops, as she has done on every single one of her long held and cherished policy beliefs. A possible third Debate, which would go to NBC FAKE NEWS, has not been agreed to by the Radical Left. GOD BLESS AMERICA!

CNN described that rambling, insult-laden, conspiracy-riddled wall of text—itself a pretty good example of what he spends his time off the campaign trail doing—by writing, “Former President Donald Trump on Tuesday announced he has ‘reached an agreement’ to participate in a September 10 debate with Vice President Kamala Harris, noting that ‘the rules will be the same as the last CNN debate, which seemed to work out well for everyone.’”

Does that really capture what Trump posted?

. . .

While speaking at an event put on by the extremist group Moms for Liberty, Trump spread a baseless conspiracy theory that “your kid goes to school and comes home a few days later with an operation,” referring to transition-related surgeries for trans people. In their write-up of the event, a glowing piece about how Trump “charmed” this group of “conservative moms,” the Times didn’t even mention the moment where he blathered on and on about a crazy conspiracy that has and will never happen.

"The shocking statements come every day, and not surprising but still shocking what he says, and, you know, even Arlington [National Cemetery], it's seen major newspaper outlets talk about how will this impact Kamala Harris and the issue of Afghanistan after he goes and just acts like a brute and, you know, desecrates Arlington," Scarborough said. "We see it time and time again. For some reason the mainstream media, nine years into Donald Trump's era in American politics, still doesn't know how to cover Donald Trump. They still are engaging even at this late hour in moral relativism."

[fachefaucheux]

WriteFest! // Day 1 + Goals

It’s that magical time of year again! You know, the one where amateur writers all across the internet take on stupidly ambitious word count goals and drive themselves batty trying to reach them. I am no exception.

I’ve been doing word count goal challenges during the last two months of the year off and on since 2001 (really dating myself here, eh?). And despite all the terrible business that’s been going on with the most infamous one, I’m not going to quit a two-decade long habit just because other people are asshats. 

The OG Word Count Challenge helped me write my first “novel” Way Back In the Day, actually. That story was a bizarre fever dream about a guy who found a nuclear warhead in the supply closet of the care home he was working in…and getting rid of it required him to go undercover as vicar and infiltrate MI6??? Obviously, that didn’t end up going anywhere. But you can see glimmers of the same tried-and-true plot devices in it that I’ve been using ever since: a mix of action and humor, the fantastic and bizarre, shady con men pretending to be religious authority figures. (I don’t know why fake priests seem to be a running theme across my stories. I blame Catholic grade school and an overactive imagination.)

Since I tend to favor quantity over quality, I’ve escalated over the years to usually setting my word count goal for November at the 100k mark. But this year, I’ve been confronted with a challenge too insane for me to resist! I do a lot of my drafting on a website called 4thewords that I discovered nearly two years ago (great site, tbh, I highly recommend it to anyone who is more productive when they gamify their life), and this year, they’ve raised the challenge bar to a whole other level. For this year’s WriteFest, the top goal is to write 250k in 44 days. That’s roughly 5,700 words a day, for those of you who don’t feel like whipping out your calculator app.

So, of course, I had to do it.

Is this a good idea? Probably not. Am I still going to try my hardest? You’re goddamn right.

But I am cheating juuuuuust a little. I’m not doing it all on one WIP. This year, I’ll be working on completing Mushroom Picking Season (maybe 20k left? hopefully), the first volume of Canticle (if there’s more than 200k left on that, I’m totally cooked), and making a pitiful attempt at pushing my dissertation to the 25k mark, which is about halfway. (Yes! I do stuff other than write gay shit! My dissertation contains no gay lunatics, sadly. But it does contain an overabundance of (yugo)slavs.) Tally all those up, and you’ve got the 250k, with some wiggle room for just writing some unhinged smut to pad the total when I’m too tired to write anything semi-coherent.

As tradition dictates, I started on November 1st. Not at midnight, because I’m old and decrepit. But at six in the morning. And the results are in!

Day one, done and dusted. Total words: 8,226. For a brief moment, I’m ahead! Only 241,774 to go!

Of course, it’s the second now that I’m posting this. Once again, at six in the morning. I think I’ll try to snag another couple hours of rest before charging into the breach once more. Today’s goal is at least 6,000 words. But probably more, since I owe ya’ll an installment of Niv/Yule hijinks on Sunday. If I get really ahead this weekend, maybe I can even take a very small breather sometime this coming week. (I’m going to need it. For Reasons.)

Stay tuned to see how fast this project goes off the rails! (And snag a sneak peak at some writing snippets, if I’m feeling ambitious.)

[loveofmyknife]

Live Blogging the Burrow’s end finale but it’s all in one post because I can’t be bothered to reblog the same post 10 times. So like… pre-recorded blogging I guess

Spoilers. Obviously.

- loving the finale outfits! Especially the caution tape accessories!

- hey girl hey! Poor Teedles is taking all of this very well and we love them for it. I too would rather face possible death than have to babysit my boss’s children

- someone really should go check on Simon

- love how Tula is advocating for a nonviolent solution and ends it with “and we should definitely track down and murder Phoebe”. It’s nonviolent except for one specific person (being?)

- Lucas is just doing his best as a congested little boy. Somebody get him some mint! (Bint)

- “oh, mommy has so much bloodlust!” is an excellent line

- again, Brennan is unhinged, and also maybe wearing pink lipstick, which I think adds to the vibe

- Thorn being concerned for Dr Steel is so indicative of his character. He just wants to protect his people, and even though they’ve only known this human for a few hours, she is one of his people

- I DID NOT KNOW HE COULD DO THAT

- love a good title drop, but this plan seems very hastily put together. I am concerned

- persuasion- “-OR ELSE!” … ok intimidation

- gasoline lasts for however long is narratively relevant

- how many stoats does it take to drive a truck? Apparently at least 5

- I mean as far at Nat 1s go operating a gear shift as a rodent makes sense

- viola is holding this group together by sheer force of will

-oh fuck human magic!

- new map! New map!

- Oh fuck “human” NECROMANCY!

-kinda sad that Carlos isn’t playing Wennabocker on the board in some way but it obviously makes sense from a practical standpoint

- the minis!!! So cool!

-“grandma casts sounding” oh no…

- box of doom strikes again

- 40 points of damage is insane

- Lucas no! I love his little hat but no!

- hate when the BBEG rolls a Nat 20

- 69 hp…nice

- not Lucas!!

- oh Tula is never going to forgive herself for this and I have Thoughts about it

- Phoebe really is just a situation at this point

- That is exactly what a 12 year old would say when beating up an eldritch horror

- yeah I’d say hitting the ground really hard is a reckless attack, Ava

-109 damage! Jesus fucking Christ

- oh it’s some eugenics shit, okay

- Dr Steel coming to the rescue!

- I love using a bunch of skills and mechanics to get the desired outcome. Casting a spell, moving out of range of counterspell, and disengaging an opportunity attack all at the same time just to be able to fireball this meat suit

- I also would not recommend hitting a nuclear reactor with fire

- “no that’s okay” was such a power move

- “I DEBONE THAT MOTHERFUCKER” yes you do, and somehow that invents cooking! I love it

- Nat 20! “THATS! MY! WIFE!!!” Viola has taken out 4 giants in a single round. She is a badass. She is a warrior. She is my hero.

- oh yeah, Dr Steel was just standing there for all that

- We may be experiencing a tragedy but at least they’ve also invented ice cream

- LUCAS NO!

- ok yeah i might be sobbing a little, what of it?

- I like that Ava can have a little magic as a treat

- I personally welcome our new stoat overlords

- babies!

-Get it, Tula! But seriously I like that she really got to process life without being just a widow and a mother before moving on

-baby’s first word: viscera. This is cannon

-Ava’s doing great, and her life is in her own hands. She’s completely overhauling the local law enforcement and creating triple A

- Dr Lila! She’s a nuclear physicist now!

- Did not expect Jaysohn to go for an Airbud plot line but I’m not mad at it

Closing thoughts: I loved it! I think the ending was pretty abrupt but taking out the BBEG in like 2 rounds will do that so I can’t fault them for it. I would have loved for at least one of the party to take over Education, and I think Tula was kind of set up for it but I’m glad she gets to just enjoy life now instead. I can’t wait to see tomorrow’s Adventuring Party and I’m super excited about next season!

[nutcrawler]

X-Men 2024, or, what the fuck should I read this year?

As someone that wasted the last week catching up on all current X-titles, here's the long short on which books are nice

Uncanny X-Men

The first one I read because it has my boy Kurt, with Rogue, Gambit, and Wolverine, traveling a bit and hanging out in Louisiana until the plot comes to get them with 4 new younger mutants being hunted.

Exceptional X-Men

This is the slice of life book. Kitty Pryde is a bartender in Chicago, while she balances trying not to fuck up her wlw dates twice in a row with rescuing every baby mutant that she crosses paths with. Pretty gay, I like it, it has good writing.

Adjectiveless X-Men, aka X-Men

The Scott Summers Show, I would actually recommend this one above Uncanny, as it seems to be the "true" book the x-events are moving around. Scott & Co. living in Alaska, Beast is back and trying to cure Magneto, Glob and Quentin are here too. If you are only gonna keep up with one book, this one wouldn't be a bad pick.

NYX

Or, the Young Mutants Pride book. The Kamala Khan/Laura Kinney book. Pretty focused on the "community" aspect of mutants, issue #3 has a scene that really highlights this with regards to where you belong, what you hide, etc. So pretty gay like Exceptional, a Morlock even mentions scalie fetishists. I don't really like X-23 but she's good with Kamala in this book.

X-Factor

Reality show mutants with a side of "you can't work for our oppressors." Leans pretty comedic when not focusing on mutant oppression and the question of integration. Oh yeah btw all these books are wearing their politics on the sleeves, some more than others though.

X-Force

Forge made a device that tells him where shit is gonna hit the fan, and he's assembled a team to keep shit together, and if they do their job right, nobody will know. Clearly building to something, so the action focus is a little dull for me, but the couple writing between Captain Britain and Askani is nice. Forge is hiding something because he refuses to take off his psi-shield.

Sentinels

The edgy book, people dressed like sentinels and hunting down mutants. The letters page at the end of issue #1 was explicit about how they are pulling the energy of Robocop and Starship Troopers, so if you like fascy tacti-cool stuff, this is the one. Not hating btw I love Verhoeven, I saw some posts on 4chan about how this book is triggering the libs but that's just cope.

The solo focused books:

Dazzler

Mutant and proud, and on tour! That's it, there's only been one issue. Includes an entire mutant pride song called Out and Proud. Didn't particularly enjoy this one.

Storm

Wanting to begin her political career, but starts with the harsh truth that a local nuclear disaster was the fault of a mutant instead of negligent engineers. She also gave herself a megadose of rads and has hours to live. Also only 1 issue out right now, but decent.

Phoenix

Jean Grey, space cop (except she helps people). Has a very strong "actions and consequences" theme. Phoenix's history is constantly brought up Jean works to rehabilitate her reputation. Also some kind of fatherhood theme going on, Jean inadvertently gets an alien girl's dad killed which is slowly working its way around to be a problem for Jean again; Jean also run's into her father in law, who brings her to some Asgardian zombies, it's a whole thing. Not too bad imo, but as the "cosmic book" it's kinda all over the place.

Wolverine

Absolutely unhinged, my boy Kurt gets shot in the fucking face first issue. But it was to motivate Logan to be a good boy, so seal of approval.

oh there is also From the Ashes Infinity Comic that is p good, a sort of anthology where every 3-4 issues is a different story, I actually really liked it despite the Infinity Comic format

So that's the first 6 months of post-Krakoa, p good so far, will keep reading for sure.

Mystique #1 comes out in a few days which I'm kinda hype for, she finally got married to Destiny last year so Marvel's premier lesbian couple is thriving.

So long true believers, and remember:

[anisecandy]

Do have any ideas how Eddie can be or act creepy?Like I think many people are scared of him by just looking at him.He can probably do some weird and unhinged stuff and because of his unpredictable behavior you don’t know if he’s friendly or he’s about to maul you

Oh gee, my elbows decided to not hurt long enough that I could write a longer post!  …Lol nah, I just wrote it while taking breaks.

…why are we here just to suffer…

Hm, but wait, are we talking just Eddie-Eddie or Eddie with the Symbiote? Bc being bonded with it def can give him a big creepy boost lol. Either way… Lemme try and make a list, from the most mundane to “can somebody call an exorcist please??”.

Over-familiarity. To put it simply, Eddie(especially the classic era) thinks of himself as quite the charismatic guy, with which the rest of the world doesn’t… exactly agree. He kisses strangers’ kids on the forehead, talks about his daddy issues on the first date and invites himself in to help with the laundry. Some will find it friendly and sweet. Some - unsettling.

Morbid sense of humor. It has to be said that (as much as he sometimes also wishes people to look past his rough exterior) Eddie definitely enjoys intimidating people. The problem is that more often than not he’s the only one in on the joke, because for most of the time it’s nigh impossible to tell when he’s serious, since he absolutely can and will (in certain situations) do exactly what he’s joking about. (“Are you scared we’ll eat you?” quips the man known for eating people).

The stare. Eddie is pretty menacing just by the virtue of his build, but what really sells it is his facial expression. You’ve heard of “resting bi*ch face”? Well, get ready for “resting serial killer face”. He’s scowling 23/7 (with exception of 1 hour per week of smiling because he loves his Other) and with those eyebrows of his he sure can give Kubrick a run for his money.

Talking to himself. I mean, for obvious reason, yeah, but I also think he’s so casual about talking to his Other out in the open because he used to talk to himself anyway.

Animalistic body language and behaviour. This one, (I think) comes after the Symbiote. Maybe. Probably not, but you know. Let’s give him some benefit of the doubt. When angry or threatened Eddie definitely hisses and growls at others, bares his teeth… 

Eating bugs. No, I don’t believe this is in any way caused by the Symbiote. Eddie’s just this damn weird. Besides, this isn’t how it works. (however, after bonding with it I’m also headcannoning that he started eating raw meat as a snack).

Seeming to have eyes on the back of his head. Thanks to the Symbiote, unless they’re both distracted, Eddie’s field of view is virtually 360°. Which can be a little creepy at times.

How do I put this nicely… Well, Eddie is a pretty… Intense person. Yeah. And he’s not, well, not great at taking the hint. And respecting boundaries. If he likes you, he REALLY likes you. He has a tendency for getting obsessed with people and can be really pushy, because if he does his best and applies himself surely you will appreciate it, right? Right?? And while this personality trait probably gets amplified when he’s with the Symbiote, it couldn’t have appeared out of thin air. Look, he just doesn’t have many people in his life and sometimes being so isolated makes him compensate in a way that understandably makes others uncomfortable.

This is sth I’ve never seen other people headcanon, but I like to imagine that when Eddie and the Symbiote are, you know, just chilling at a safe location, sometimes they… blur? collapse? a little, like on the physical level specifically? The Symbiote emerges to a certain degree, because Eddie enjoys from time to time having it around in a more corporal form that he can look at and touch, but without the prying eyes of other humans and their human sensibilities, it doesn’t form into anything particularly coherent. So they turn into this really casual, domestic, utterly horrifying body horror varying from black goo oozing from Eddie’s mouth, eyes etc and a full on mess a’la “The Thing”. It’s their version of stretched out sweatpants and holey undershirt.

Those are the ones I came up with so far, but I'm certain that if he'd put his hear into it, he could be even creepier ♥ (lol)

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Ludwig (1973)

I went through so much trouble to watch this stupid film and it took me so long to watch it because its four hours long and I kept getting headaches while watching and had to keep taking breaks, but it was all worth it because this film was so unbearably unbelievably good, its my favorite thing in this whole marathon so far by a long shot

Its so good Im actually having trouble talking about it because I truly have no complaints, but I cant just talk about what I liked either because its basically everything. The pacing was great, it could get slow at times but it was never unengaging and if it werent for my headaches I wouldve definitely been able to watch the whole film in one sitting, which is high praise coming from my low attention span-ass. I feel like I never really mention the cinematography in these posts because its usually just fine in a very unremarkable way, but it was absolutely amazing in this one, the framing and composition of every scene felt so deliberate, its like every shot was a painting.

The acting was incredible, I was a little unsure about some of the performances initially because this is an english-language film mostly starring actors who are very noticeably not native english-speakers and I thought it would interfere with their acting because idk, some of the early line-deliveries had that kind of stilted kid-having-to-read-something-outloud-in-english-class quality to them, but that ended up not being the case at all. Helmut Berger as Ludwig was especially great, he did such a good job capturing him, both in the very beginning when he's this naive romantic/idealist and later in the film when he becomes more disillusioned and unhinged. He was also very babygirl, similar to the actor who played him in Ludwig — Glanz und Ende eines Königs (1955), so I liked that. Romy Schneider of the Sissi-trilogy played Elisabeth here as well and I really liked her too, she's still very charismatic and I think she did a great job with this more flawed and less romanticised portrayal.

To be honest, I was really expecting Elisabeth to play a bigger role in this film, I think the synopsis that I read gave me the impression that it would show both of their lives and sortof parallel them or something, but that wasnt the case, it was really just Ludwig's life, from his coronation to his death, and Elisabeth was in it sometimes because theyre important to each other and like to spend time together. They have some romantic tension and they even kiss each other on the lips in one scene, which suprised me, but it wasnt really elaborated on, it causes some drama between her and Sophie when she's engaged, but after they break it off the film mostly focuses on Ludwig's relationships with men while focusing less on Elisabeth as he starts to isolate himself. Also, speaking of his relationships with men, I am very disappointed to tell you that there was not nearly as much sexual tension between him and and Richard Wagner as in the other film. for shame.

Anyway, I cant really think of a way to organically transition into the next section, and theres really only one last thing that I wanted to talk about, so Im just gonna talk about it. I said earlier that this was an english-language film but it also has a lot of sections in italian and bits in german. Now, the german bits are like, theres a scene where Sophie sings a song from a german opera and whenever theres large crowds shouting stuff theyre shouting in german (like at the very end when theyre all looking for Ludwig after he went outside with his doctor), which I like because I feel like it adds a certain authenticity to those scenes, but the italian parts are just kinda confusing to me. The film has these little talking heads segments where its characters from the film, usually right before they take an active role in the story, talking about like, Ludwig's downfall is how I'd describe it (except for Richard Hornig, hes just like "Ive been his confidant for 10 years and thats all Im gonna say" which is cool), and the first few of those segments are in italian while the rest of the film is in english, so I initially assumed that those would be the only italian parts, but then we get a scene of Ludwig and Elisabeth talking that starts in english but then in the middle of it, theyre just suddenly speaking italian. And thats something that keeps happening throughout, sometimes theres just random italian scenes or scenes that randomly switch into italian, and some of those talking heads segments are inexplicably english, its very strange and honestly pretty jarring, I had to keep switching between the raw film and a version with english subtitles to properly keep up. So I guess that would be my one complaint for this film, but honestly Im not even sure if it was meant to be viewed that way ?? Like, the wikipedia page doesnt mention the fact that this movie was filmed in two languages even though I feel like that would be worth mentioning, and the italian parts all have this dubbed-in quality to them, like the audio quality is a bit different and Ludwig's voice sounds completely different when he's speaking italian vs when he's speaking english, its weird. But I mean, it didnt disturb my experience watching this, its basically just giving me an excuse to make my very own subtitles which Im looking forward to because itll give me the chance to rewatch it

So yeah, that's it. In conclusion, this film is really great and you should definitely watch it if you have four hours to spare and no headache

[fairytaleinagem]

Get To Know Your Moots Writeblr Interview!

Say @saturnine-saturneight do this and thought it was fun, so here's @davycoquette's template of the interview! This thing is long, woof...

─── ON THE TUMBLR WRITING COMMUNITY

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr?

Couple a months, I think? One or two, maybe three? I had this account for much longer though, and I've only recently come to it because I wanted to post my stuff on here!

What led you to create it?

I was looking through a tag to see what I should include in an intro post (in general) and saw that there was a list for Writeblr intros! So I made the intro for my blog and then for The Aetherium a bit after that!

What's your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

I get to see a lot of cool art and writing from other people! I especially love it when people make moodboards or similar, because even though I love writing and reading, sometimes the words get a lil' blurry.

What's one thing you'd like your mutuals to know about you?

Hope you like Isekai, because boy do I have PLENTY of stories in mind for it! Even if you don't, at the very least expect one story to have some sort of reincarnation in it haha!

Is there anything you'd like to see more of on your dash?

Oh definitely more art. Playlists, moodboards, character portraits, all of it!! Words can only illustrate so much for me!!!

What tips/advice do you have for someone who made a Writeblr today?

Forget shyness, and get on out there! You're not really guaranteed eyes on your work if you don't interact with others. It may be scary, but you won't regret socializing much!

─── WIP IT GOOD

What Works-In-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Of course we have The Aetherium, which is the main WIP in my head. But there's also a Doubl(iv)ing and a few other WIPs that are listed on my blog intro post!

How long have you been working on them?

Oouf, The Aetherium technically has been going on for about 4 years now! The characters at least, and they didn't even have a home yet! It's only recently that I've settled down to actually write for them.

Do you remember what inspired them/got you started?

YESSS!!!! It was just another day on Youtube, and I was listening to some song that was about to end, so I was scrolling on the sidebar to find something else to listen to. Then, one thumbnail caught my eye. Bright colors, purple, women??? It was also Kpop, a genre I listen to often, so that drew me further in! I clicked on it, and behold, a concrete idea for my characters was born! Ever since then, everything that The Aetherium was based on was from a Kpop girl group named aespa. I recommend listening to them if you want something sort of futuristic and experimental to hear, especially Black Mamba, their debut song!

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

Depending on how inspired I am for them, it tends to be a couple of hours. 3 or 4, perhaps? Per day, but sometimes there are droughts.

When someone asks the dreaded, "What do you write about," question, what do you usually say?

People don't usually ask me all that much, but for writing in general it would probably just be "fantasy", since that's what the majority of my works tend to be.

─── LET’S ROTATE BLORBOS

Name any characters you created.

If you wanna hop onto the train to get off The Aetherium Station for a second, a character who I will refer to as God's Only Puppet is spinning pretty rapidly in my head right now. Their """friend""", A Demon's Eternal Servant is spinning right next to 'em, just at a less frequent pace. Other than that, it's the usual Akina (except on Earth now) and a new challenger, Jaxsun!

Who's the most unhinged?

That'd have to be God's Only Puppet, currently! When you're an asshat jerk who cannot be killed (except by the God you're literally being puppeted by), you kind of go off the rails and do a lot of wack things. Like making a death game based on the game Werewolf.

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

That'd have to be Akina, because fun fact! Pretty much every character in The Aetherium (with the exception of Zenith and a few others) are based of real people I used to know! And since Akina is based off of me, well... I think you can guess why she's so easy to write for me lmao

Do you ever cringe at them?

Not typically, but maybe that's because I haven't really put them in any embarrassing situations yet? Or make them fumble badly, who knows.

How much control do you feel over your characters?

A decent amount? Recently I've been stuck in the garbage because I'm unsure of what/how to write the scene, so currently we're all just standing there like "so who broke it" around a double of me dead over my chromebook. I'm trying to get back into it so here's to hoping!!

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters?

Hell yeah I do, especially about the ones I think about the least/not at all! Because then it helps me get a grasp on their characters better, so I can give them some good ol' depth.

─── ON WRITEBLR ENGAGEMENT

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account?

I generally don't follow that many people, but if you have good tips/writing advice, or follow me as well, or interact with me a decent amount then I'll follow back!

What makes you decide against following?

There's nothing in particular that I have in mind, since I don't follow many people in the first place, unless they do any of the listed reasons in the above question. It'd probably be based off vibes, I guess?

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

No, not really. I'll usually like things or use the reply button rarely, but not reblog.

Do your mutuals' characters occupy space in your noodle?

They have yet to enter and register the overcrowded apartment that is my brain, so no, sorry! I wish they would but they have yet to cross the city street my friends :(

[peanutrat20]

Welcome, to Not Hero Material

[insert lineup because this came to be hours before posting this so i have nothing currently]

About Not Hero Material

Not Hero Material is just your average rise au..

hahahaha

no it's not

welcome to rise approximately 30 football fields to the left where the boys are just a little extra unhinged

splinter ran away from his kids partially because they have a few screws loose so instead of giving them a good outlet for their manic brains he ran. A+ parenting, will get murdered if he dares return

raph is a big ass teddy bear but he isn't all sunshine and rainbows if you aren't family. he is second most unhinged [just barely above mikey] but is very good at hiding it

leo lost all his marbles after an accident during an experiment with donnie when they were kids. he doesn't remember things well and can't talk [can make the little noises the fandom has a love for giving the turtle boys], he is super sweet and will accept friendship from just about anyone. he is the least unhinged on technicality he'd just as unhinged as donnie if not for the accident [he does not have enough marbles left to be unhinged unfortunately]

donnie.. okay so i'm gonna need ya'll to imagine canon rise donnie, now turn the chaos up to 1000, and add a love of torture and murder. does feel bad about what happened to leo. also collects knives. most unhinged, do not try and talk your way out of his torture chair.. it will not work

mikey has a passion for making people think they've gone crazy. will not get his hands dirty except on special occasions. still loves to cook and make art. third most unhinged is not afraid to let you know that either

april is the boys big sister/best friend. she knows they're a bit screwy in the head but she still loves them. works retail and donnie will hack any problem customers bank accounts for the hell of it

draxum [also an important character because i said so] is dragged into the chaos of the boys on account of donnie insisting he help him attempt and fix leo's mind [they can't]. eventually endears himself to the boys and becomes their father figure who is mildly concerned for their sanity

this is what i lovingly refer to as my unhinged au. i can guarantee that it could/will get way too dark for some people. at the end of the day it is the au that will make ya'll realize there is a reason one of my at work mantra's is "murder is not okay". all my unhinged thoughts are coming here to hang out. you have been warned

What to expect to see with Not Hero Material

here on tumblr i'll be posting art, reference images, and any small stories that don't fit the main narrative.

anything written will be posted on ao3 (links will be added here as they are posted)

Want to interact with Not Hero Material?

if you see Not Hero Material and decide you want to make fanart or whatever else you are 100% welcome to. there is only one rule no t//c3st besides that you can do whatever you want with my au as long as you tag me so i can see it.

i will also answer questions sent to my ask box about Not Hero Material

Other Links:

[nothing to see here... yet]