#his ideology and what type of being he's meant to be

[misha-v]

stupid pissman

[heesdreamer]

give it time

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ being jakes twin sister, your reputation followed you around wherever you went. add on the fact you were a known man eating playgirl with a thing for nerds and you were heeseung’s worst nightmare

GENRE ➩ playgirl!au x inexperienced!hee

WARNINGS ➩ sexual scenes (no full smut sorry guys) and light slut shaming

WC. ➩ 14.03k

DISCLAIMER ➩ i don’t feel like i got to explore these characters enough so fyi im opened to one shot request or small drabbles for these two! feel free to send an ask if ur interested in a scene

Despite the common perception of you, you were not a complete and total monster.

Sure, the rumors were true in some aspects but in most cases things were warped and twisted as they danced from mouth to mouth and you were left with a bit of a startling reputation.

You leave too many freshman boys crying and suddenly you are the devil disguised in a perfectly polished and manicured body, girlish scents and cheeky smiles being used to lure your victims in to their death.

Frankly you thought this was all way too dramatized. You liked to play around, who didn’t, and it wasn’t your fault you had a very particular taste when it came to your boys. Death was dramatic, if anything their social meters skyrocketed after being seen with you.

“It’s immoral.” Your best friend was currently giving you his opposing opinion. Sunoo was laid across your bed and watching you carefully reapply your lipgloss in the large mirror on your desk. “Maybe even a little bit sick.”

You laughed at him, turning to face him fully and strike a pose. He gave a thumbs up at your outfit and smiled at you despite his scoldings.

Sunoo had been your friend for as long as you’d known what the word meant. He was a year younger than you but decades more mature and when you both started to change drastically, you still remained friends.

Most of the version of yourself you showed outside of this room was a carefully poised character, a show of beauty and confidence to ensure you weren’t belittled and were taken seriously in all aspects of life. Yet here, alone with Sunoo as you got ready for another Saturday night party, you were your rawest self.

“I can’t help what I like.” You continued on your conversation now that he’s approved your attire.

And you meant this from the bottom of your soul. You’ve tried to fall for other guys, tried to stare length at the football players and hope it stirred something awake in you and you could fulfill another cliche when it came to high school norms.

Yet it was earlier on in your years of puberty when you discovered your type, and oh god was it a discovery.

Park Sunghoon had stumbled off the summer camp bus behind a few girls you’d recognized from previous years. He was clutching his backpack strap with one hand and pushing his glasses up his nose with the other. To make matters worse (or better, depending on who you’re asking) he had tripped coming down the steps and nearly face planted in the dirt below him.

For the first time in your life, you were completely and utterly inlove. Or at least as inlove a sniffly 14 year old can be.

You’d had your first kiss that summer, hidden behind a bush on the final nights huge campfire and you blushed thinking about how Sunghoon’s hands were shaking and his eyes were wide when you pulled away.

That was the exact thing you’d gotten obsessed with. You never saw Sunghoon again, not at summer camp or anywhere around the city, but you constantly searched for him in other boys. You liked the awkwardness and shy glances and you liked the way you could almost see the corrupted thoughts in their mind after a few weeks with you.

Other people your age gushed over the charmers, the boys at parties who leaned against the wall and asked you to slip away into an uncleaned room. Sunoo sharing the same ideology considering the way he constantly fawned over somebody on the soccer team.

Which is why you didn’t get angry at him for his scolding, for his lack of understanding. It was an art form and not everybody could appreciate it.

“Y/N, kid. I told you I’m not waiting all night for you.” Deafening pounds on your door strictly reminded you of that fact.

You swung open your door with a scowl, ignoring the way Sunoo mumbled about his hatred for the nickname kid, and came face to face with your brother.

Jake was exactly two minutes older than you and spent your entire lives magnifying this fact at any given moment. His eyes scanned your outfits before looking behind you to Sunoo’s and he sighed softly.

“So we are going complete ‘embarrass my big brother’ tonight I guess.” His words caused you to roll your eyes and push on his shoulder so you could move past him out into the hallway.

Jake and you got along great despite your differences, something about the twin connection helping you be a lot closer than you might have been else wise considering everything else about you was completely flipped.

He was the star of your family in all things that truly seemed to matter to your parents, handsome and sociable and not to mention the captain of the football team.

“You’re not my big brother.” You mumbled as you passed him and he smiled at you and messed up your hair. You paused and waited for Sunoo at the top of the stairs, raising an eyebrow at the fact Jake was watching you with a strange expression.

“My friends are downstairs.” He started to explain and you furrowed your brows in confusion. When you’d first become cool enough to hang out with Jake’s friends, he had warned them and you about the consequences of dating each other, but he gradually realized they were absolutely not your type.

You imagined he still had to deal with comments, you were well known at school and undeniably conventionally attractive, plus Park Jay had definitely made numerous passes at you throughout the years.

“I’d rather jump down these stairs than fuck one of your friends Jake.” His mouth curled in disgust at your blunt words and you saw Sunoo laugh as he approached the two of you, closing your bedroom door.

“There’s a new kid on the team and I know how you are.” He was whispering but his tone was stern and you shook your head at him in annoyance.

“I’m not interested in jocks brother, I feel like we’ve been over this. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“The Sim’s! Looking fantastic as usual.” Jay’s voice floating up the stairs caused the three of you to turn in it’s direction and you immediately froze as you took in the other boys standing in your living room. You heard Jake sigh at your reaction and start to make his way down the stairs.

Standing amidst the usual crowd, Jay (your brothers absolute bestfriend of all time), Jungwon and Riki (two younger boys on the football team), was a boy you’d never seen before.

“Oh wow. This isn’t good.” Sunoo was whispering over your shoulder with a half smile as he followed your line of vision, patting you on the back and starting his way down the stairs after your brother.

The boy was a complete stand out amidst the others and their casual stances. They were dressed dark and sleek, eyes lazy and relaxed like there was nothing that could surprise them about how tonight would play out and by experience, you knew this to be true.

He was standing stiff as a board and ringing his hands uncomfortably, looking around your living room anxiously as he tried to take in the unfamiliar setting. You briefly mentally scolded the boys for letting him wear a sweater to a highschool party and then immediately thanked them for the same fact.

You were down the stairs and stood infront of him before he even processed you approaching and his eyes widened with surprise as he took a startled step back. Your hand was dangling in the middle of the both of you and he awkwardly took it in his.

“I’m Y/N Sim.” You practically purred at him and you vaguely heard Jay bark a laugh from a few feet behind you. The boys eyes darted over to your brother and his friends and then back at you with a curious expression.

“Heeseung.” His voice was quiet and unsure and you raised an eyebrow, keeping his hand in yours for longer than necessary. “Lee Heeseung.”

You repeated his name back to him with a smile, letting it roll off your tongue as you pushed some of your hair behind your ear. Normally by now you’d start to see the signs of infatuation, eyes darting down to your chest and breath catching when you leaned into their personal space.

Heeseung wasn’t doing either, in fact he just seemed more and more awkward and impatient as the seconds droned on. Your mouth twitched down in a shocked frown and you released your grip on his hand, watching as Jake wrapped an arm around his shoulder and ushered him away from you.

Your brother shot you a teasing smile over his shoulder, like he was mocking you for failing to catch his friends attention.

“Don’t look so gloomy sweetheart.” Jay’s voice was in your ear as you started walking to the car. “You’re going to eat him alive.”

——

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the boy.

He definitely had noticed your staring, awkwardly hovering in the corner of the party holding a completely full cup he’d been taking fake sips out of. Your brother had stuck with him for most of it before being dragged away by some other boys on the team for a game of cup pong.

You remembered the fact that Heeseung was supposedly on the football team too and you were suddenly curious what exactly he did. Maybe your brother had only mentioned it in an attempt to deter your advances.

He’d be disappointed to know it didn’t work, considering you were pushing off your seat at the kitchen counter and making your way to his side of the room.

When you were a few feet infront of him he seemed to realize you weren’t changing your course of movement and were in fact coming straight for him. He stiffened up against the wall and avoided looking at you.

“Hi Hee.” You ignored his behavior, leaning against the wall on your side so you could still look at him. You liked the slope of his nose and the way he nervously glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

“Hey Y/N.” He tried to sound casual but his voice cracked halfway through saying your name and your smile brightened, leaning forward slightly so your mouth was hovering closer to his ear.

“Not having fun?” You leaned back after you spoke, noting the way he held his breath when you got closer and shifted in his stance once you leaned back against the wall.

He shrugged softly and you watched the way his thin shoulders fell back down. He definitely wasn’t small, towering over you and about double your width but he was lean and pretty, not to mention the way he curled in on himself made him seem tiny.

“I know something fun we can do.” You were leaning back towards him, this time letting your hand fall forward to hold his arm. The innuendo didn’t miss him and his wide eyes shot down to where you were touching him and then back to look at you.

“Jake said to not talk to you.” He was suddenly stuttering out but he didn’t make any move to leave or remove your hand from him. “He said if you said you liked me it wasn’t true.”

Your jaw ticked in anger as he spoke, wanting to go find Jake and teach him a lesson about interfering. But Heeseung was peering down at you with those big glossy eyes and he didn’t seem upset, just curious.

“That’s not very nice of him to say, is it?” You were practically cooing at the boy, lips forming a pout like it was the most hurtful thing you’d ever heard.

It worked considering the fact Heeseung immediately shook his head, eyes even more wide like he was worried he had somehow offended you.

Your hand that wasn’t on his arm slowly slid up to his neck, stopping to hold his face and turn him more so he was facing you and you weren’t staring at the side of him. He really was handsome, strong manly features sat nicely below his large eyes.

“Do you think I’m mean Hee?” You decided to use Jake’s words against him, batting your eyelashes with a pout and leaning against him. You felt a flash of satisfaction at the way his eyes went down to your jutted out lip and back up.

He didn’t reply after you said that and you briefly wondered if you pushed him too far for one night. You didn’t mind stretching it out, one time spending weeks with a boring tutor before he even seemed to realize you had boobs, but something about the way he peered down at you made you impatient.

He didn’t respond but he also, once again, made no move to push you off of him. If anything he seemed short of breath the longer you stood there pressed against him with your thumb on his chin.

You let out a small hum of satisfaction and pressed your thumb upwards against his bottom lip, holding it there for a second to see if he would object. He didn’t despite the way his eyes seemed to grow wider and wider every passing second.

His mouth parted and at first you thought he was going to speak, pausing and raising an eyebrow to make sure he wasn’t about to tell you to stop touching him. He looked suddenly mortified and closed his mouth with a snap, causing you to realize he was referring to your thumb pressing against his lip.

“Oh.” He genuinely shocked you, your confidence faltering for a second at the fact he was basically inviting your thumb into his mouth a second ago when you’d barely spoken to each other.

He was bright red and you had a feeling that if your grip on his chin wasn’t so tight, he would’ve disappeared into the crowd to avoid you.

“Sorry.” He was mumbling, voice so quiet you almost missed it beneath the loud music and stacked piles of random conversations.

“Do you want to go somewhere we can hear each other better?” You tried to keep the implication out of your words but you had a feeling you were oozing with sin and intent as you leaned up to speak against his ear.

Still, he was nodding almost like he was on autopilot and seemingly ready to go with you regardless of where you would take him. And that was music to your ears, excitement and tension causing you to smile before tugging him and turning around to leave the party.

You were immediately stopped in your path, your smile dropping into a scowl as you looked at your brother. He was stood infront of you with his arms crossed, Jay and Sunoo’s amused faces peeking over his shoulder at the thought of conflict.

“Excuse us.” You spat at him, tugging Heeseung again. He’d complete froze at the sight of your brother and only seemed to snap out of it at your pull, yanking his hand from yours as he collided with your back.

You stumbled forward and glared behind you at him, confused why he had let go of your hand. He was bright red again and avoiding looking at you, taking a step to the side so he was more on your brothers half of the stand off.

Jake had a satisfied smirk on his face at his obedience and you scoffed at them both, disgusted and angry eyes directed towards Heeseung who was cowering away from your glare.

“Alright.” Sunoo was dragging the word out, pushing past your brothers rigid frame and wrapping his arms around you. “Think it’s time we go.”

You let him steer you away from the boys, sending one last glare at your brothers victorious face. You felt a little fire light up in your stomach with the knowledge he was going to regret it.

——

“What about that junior in your art class. He’s easy on the eyes.” Sunoo was trying to keep your attention while in the lunch room, despite the knowledge most of his words were falling on deaf ears. “And not your brothers friend.”

That caught your attention slightly and you stopped your staring for a second, glancing at your friend before looking back across the hall where Heeseung was sat with the rest of the football idiots.

“If you’re going to tell me it’s immoral again, save your breath.” You half muttered and you heard him sigh softly from beside you.

He started to talk again but this time you truly didn’t hear him because Heeseung was looking around the room for a second before locking eyes with you. You sat up in your seat as you watched him freeze and look around to see if there was anyone else you could possibly be staring at.

When he seemed to determine he was the source of your attention, he awkwardly looked back at you and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. You cocked your head but didn’t do anything else, still slightly hurt from the night before.

“Earth to my supposed best friend.” Sunoo’s annoyed voice and shove against your shoulder caused you to break the staring contest with the boy, looking at him apologetically. “It’s fine, we can talk later. But your boy toys leaving.”

His eyes were falling over your shoulder with a quirked eyebrow, following Heeseung’s frame as he quickly shuffled out of the cafeteria and through the hallway doors. You looked frantically at Sunoo for permission and he waved you off with a dismissive hand.

You were on your feet and rushing towards the direction Heeseung had went before you could thank him, causing a few heads to turn towards you as you whipped past them.

Once you pushed through the large doors, you slowed your pace and flattened your skirt, attempting to look casual. You pulled your hair prettily in-front of your shoulders and peered around the hallway corners, trying to catch sight of which way Heeseung had gone.

It didn’t take very long before you were faltering in your tracks, seeing him standing against a closed locker and seemingly catching his breath.

“Hee?” You were standing a few feet away from him, leaning forward and cocking your head in a fake display of coincidence. “What are you doing out here?”

He glanced up at you with an unreadable expression. At first you thought he looked annoyed to see you but you realized quickly he was more so embarrassed at you catching him in a state of panic.

He raised his shoulders in a shrug again and you took a step closer, taking in his outfit now that he wasn’t hidden behind a lunch table. He was wearing another sweater, this one had a large V neck that he covered up with a plaid button up underneath it. You wondered briefly if he was hot at all underneath the layers.

“You shrug a lot don’t you.” As you spoke you casually approached him, leaning on the wall next the locker he was stood against.

He looked like he wanted to laugh at your words, mouth quirking for a bit before looking at you in a similar position to the previous night and frowning, eyes flashing with guilt and embarrassment again.

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head as he whispered and you quirked an eyebrow at his sudden mood change.

“For what part?” Beneath the urge to tease him and make him say it directly, you were genuinely curious what about last night he was apologizing for. For leaving you when your brother arrived or was he sorry for your little interaction a few seconds before that.

He looked at you with a sigh and an awkward shuffle in place, giving you your answer. He was too shy to voice it out loud and that led you to believe it was the latter he was attempting to apologize for.

“You’re sorry for that?” You frowned at him as you leaned closer again. He was watching you intensely, still standing awkwardly but seemingly expecting your actions more this time. “For wanting my fingers in your mouth?”

He was sucking in a breath at your blunt words, eyes going wide as he pressed himself against the locker like he wanted it to swallow him whole. You didn’t say anything else, you’d tipped far more than a toe in the waters and you may be a man eater but the last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable.

“Don’t say that.” He was rushing out in a hissed whisper and looking around the empty hallway like somebody could be listening.

“Is that not what you wanted?” Your voice was dropping to a purr again and you could see him swallow the lump in his throat as your hand came to rest against his chest.

You wanted to touch him, desperately strangely enough, but more importantly you wanted to feel how fast his heart was racing and it didn’t disappoint. It was beating so fast you almost found it in yourself to be concerned.

A large part of you wanted to push him further, to make him tell you what he wanted so you could get to the fun part already, but a new part of you was liking toying around with him.

You found yourself curious what he was thinking as he blinked down at you, if he was thinking dirty things about you or if he wasn’t quite sure what that even consisted of. Was he just sweet and awkward or was he truly inexperienced.

Even weirder, you were wondering what you looked like to him. Both in the bodily sense, if he found you pretty or alluring, and in the sense in which he considered you to be a flirt or a whore.

You didn’t mind being a whore, you thought it was a beautiful powerful thing for a woman to be, but for some strange reason you didn’t want Heeseung to think that’s what this was.

Jay was right, you absolutely wanted to eat him alive but maybe you didn’t have to spit this one out after.

“I don’t know why I did that.” His whisper almost passed by you while you were stuck in your thoughts. You could feel his chest rise as he spoke and you liked the feeling, pressing your front against his similarly to how you did at the party.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” You assured him, studying his features as he looked down at you. Your hand was leaving his chest to cup his cheek then and he took in a deep stuttering breath.

You let your thumb caress the skin on his cheek and he kept his eyes locked on yours despite the way they nervously twitched and sometimes shot over your shoulder like he was expecting an interruption.

“It’s weird.” He whispered and his breath fanned your face due to your proximity.

You frowned slightly at his words, although you had a feeling he didn’t truly mean them and he was just doing damage control incase you’d make fun of him. Still, you thought for a second before blindly reaching down between your bodies and gripping his wrist.

He made a strange startled noise at the direction of your hand, flushing when he realized you were only searching for his hand and not anything else. He didn’t object as you brought his limp hand up, only tensing slightly as you placed it on your cheek.

You didn’t say anything, waiting for a few seconds to see if he would take the hint on his own before sighing and moving his thumb with your hand that was covering his and placing it against your bottom lip.

He looked almost entranced at the movement, mouth parting in surprise as he felt your lip against his thumb. Then it was your turn to be surprised when he mirrored your movement from the other night and pressed down on it, almost instinctively.

Having startled himself, he started to pull his hand away but luckily you were still holding it in place against your cheek. Before he could make another move to remove it, you were parting your lips and pulling his thumb into your mouth.

He made another loud noise, a half shout nearly at the wet sensation on his digit and you would have laughed if you weren’t certain it would embarrass him to a point of no return.

You watched his reactions through your eyelashes as your hand moved to his wrist, feeling the bone and muscle twitch as you kept his hand in place. He didn’t say anything, watching you as you closed your lips around his thumb and held it there.

He met your eyes for just a second, immediately shooting back down to look where his thumb disappeared when he felt your tongue wrap around it in slow soothing circles.

The hall was silent outside of his heavy breaths and a low sucking sound as you pulled his wrist back and forth slowly so his thumb continued its movements in and out of your mouth. He was standing so stiff that you considered, for a moment, pulling back and asking him if this was okay.

Then he took a deep inhale and pressed his thumb flat against your tongue, causing your breath to catch in your throat with a slight choke. You faintly thought you heard him groan at the noise and you squeezed your hand that was around his wrist.

This seemed to snap him back to reality, eyes bulging as his movements froze completely. You kept your eyes on him even after he pulled his thumb from your mouth, avoiding eye contact with you as soft pants slipped from your lips.

“Do you still think it’s weird?”

——

A day or two passed without you seeing Heeseung, or more accurately without any firm interaction considering he darted away every time you rounded a corner.

This time you weren’t hurt by his avoidance, the hard part was finished and the seed of sin was blossoming in his pretty head. Now all you needed to do was wait for him to come crawling to your door, asking for more, and you’d finally have him.

You didn’t expect it so literally however. The soft knocks on your door after you’d just gotten home from school made you groan, expecting some form of real life spam mail or an annoyed neighbor, all the usuals. Instead your angry expression dropped off your face when you realized it was Heeseung behind the door.

He faltered at the sight of you, almost like he’d forgotten you lived here too. His expression was pained and you almost laughed at the way his eyes instinctively dropped to your mouth.

“Well hi.” You smiled at him and pushed your hip out to lean in the doorway, suddenly aware of the fact you were wearing little duck shorts from middle school. You don’t think he noticed, avoiding looking at your bare legs with all his might.

“Is Jake here?” He was mumbling, looking over your shoulder like he was hoping your brother would come and save him.

“I’m beginning to think I should be offended.” You were only half joking, a genuine disappointment building in your stomach. You’d never had a boy care so little about you, especially after you’d already made a move on him. “He’s at practice still, shouldn’t you know that?”

He didn’t say anything, staring at you for a while before blinking away and shuffling in place. You sighed and took a step to the side, signaling for him to come inside so he didn’t leave a dent in your porch.

He slowly and awkwardly came inside, pressing against the door to avoid touching any part of your body considering you were still perched against the doorway.

“It’s nice to see you.” You found yourself actually meaning this as you said it and nearly laughed at the way he whipped around to look at you in surprise. You’re not sure if he wasn’t expecting you to talk to him in general or just not expecting you to be in a good mood.

“What?” He spoke before he even realized he was and looked down at his shoes.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged and walked closer to him, noting the way he tensed and followed your frame. You moved past him to sit on the couch, patting the spot next to you and smiling. “I missed you.”

He slowly sat next to you, hesitating at the close proximity. Once he was sat, stiff and nervous, you scooted closer so your thighs were pressed together. If he didn’t notice your shorts before, he definitely did now judging by the way his eyes bulged and his hands twitched.

“You don’t know me.” He was shaking his head and you smiled slightly at the fact he was atleast comfortable enough to argue something you’d said.

“I think you’re cute.” You shrugged like it was obvious, watching the side of his face as he avoided looking in your direction. You were sat so close that if he looked at you, you’d probably be touching noses. “And I like your eyes.”

He glanced at you for a second, slight amusement on his face at your surface level answer. If he hadn’t figured out what you wanted by now, he slowly was. You watched as his hand twitched again.

“You want to touch me.” It was more of a statement than a question, shifting in your spot slightly. He didn’t say anything for a while eyes on your leg and you waited patiently, holding your breath so you didn’t scare him off.

“I don’t know.” His voice was breathy and pained like he was dealing with an inner dilemma. For a second he looked so guilty that you wondered if he was possibly religious, lips quirking up at the thought.

“You can.” He made no move despite your urging, glancing at you from the corner of his eye before shaking his head. “Do you want me to help you?”

He didn’t respond again but the sharp breath he took helped you understand his answer, his mannerisms becoming easier and easier for you to read. He didn’t flinch when you grabbed his wrist again, letting you carry his hand over to your leg and encage it with your own once it was touching your warm skin.

“Okay?” You were whispering, leaning your top half against him so you could rest your head on his shoulder. You liked to feel the sharp inhales he was taking as his body rose and fell.

He nodded swiftly and you decided now that he was definitely a virgin, the way his hand flexed and shuddered at the feeling of just your skin, being the most obvious sign. Excitement was bubbling under your skin again and you could hear Sunoo’s voice calling you immoral.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” You were turning your head on his shoulder to whisper against his neck and he made a startled noise at the feeling, hand tightening on your leg. You weren’t quite sure what prompted you to ask him that but you were suddenly desperate to hear his response.

He was nodding quickly for a second before actually responding, almost like he knew you wanted to hear him say it. “Yes. So pretty.”

You smiled and kissed the base of his neck in thanks, drinking in the small whimper like noise he made in response.

A minute or two passed in silence, you tightly pressed against him and listening to his sharp nervous breathing while he slowly relaxed his hand on your thigh, at some points being brave enough to gently caress your smooth skin with his thumb. You liked letting him explore, seeing how long it took for him to do the smallest things, but you were growing slightly impatient.

His hands were big, almost encasing the surface area of your leg and your hand looked extra small on top of his, slowly directing it upwards closer to the hem of your shorts. He met your gaze with a panicked look and you stopped in place for a few seconds, waiting for any sign of permission.

“Why are you doing this?” He was whispering as he turned to look you in your eyes, forehead nearly touching yours. He looked confused and pained and you almost felt a strange guilt as you looked at him.

“If you don’t want me to, I’ll stop.” You’d lost the purr in your voice, deadly serious as you spoke the most important words you could say to him. You were pushy and had a certain set of interests others might find disturbed, but you were absolutely not somebody who made others uncomfortable in a negative way.

“Are you just screwing with me?” He didn’t sound upset, just genuinely insecure and curious like he couldn’t understand why you would want him to be touching you.

You were pleased that despite being shy and not talking a lot, he wasn’t afraid to ask you things he found important. It reassured you that he would alert you if you pushed him too far, but you also were thrown off by his lack of self credit. Heeseung was definitely a dork and not the best in social situations, but he was stunning and sweet, not to mention large in size.

That small reminder caused you to glance down at his hand that was still on your leg, thumb just on the edge of hooking underneath your shorts. You pressed your legs together and looked back at him, noting the dark flash that passed in his eyes at the movement.

“I want you.” You spoke bluntly, not sure how else to reassure him the way he was searching for. You weren’t going to lie to him, you couldn’t sit here and tell this boy you wanted to date him and treat him good but you could definitely be honest with him and tell him why he was sat on your couch right now.

He looked at you in silence for a second like he was waiting for you to laugh or say something else, prove him right about his suspicions. When you kept your face firm and serious he sucked in a breath and nodded slowly, accepting that this was just something that was happening to him now.

You wondered for a second what type of place he’d lived before where girls didn’t find him attractive, suddenly very glad he was your brothers friend and you saw him before anybody else had the chance to corrupt his mind.

His hand was moving on it’s own now, a small burst of confidence at your blatant desire for him. He seemed unsure of his movements as his hand pushed up under the entrance to your small shorts, stopping and resting against your underwear clad hip, trapped between the two fabrics.

“Has anyone ever kissed you?” You were asking and he seemed confused that you chose to ask that instead of acknowledging him for touching you on his own. You smiled at that and noted for later use that he was searching for approval and praise.

He thought for a second and you wondered if he was considering whether or not to lie. Maybe he hadn’t caught on to your strict type yet and just figured you liked nerdy guys.

“Don’t lie to me. I don’t mind either way.” Your voice was suddenly firm at the command and then immediately softening in reassurance. It was truthfully too despite the fact you were most hopeful to him saying no.

He was shaking his head and you didn’t miss the way his eyes were stuck on your lips, hand flexing with impatience under your shorts.

“If I kiss you, you can’t ignore me anymore.” You whispered and he was nodding as you spoke. You were worried he was so eager for you to do something he wasn’t quite thinking before agreeing to things. And you meant what you said, if you kissed him it would be important to you.

“You can’t tell Jake.” He was suddenly saying and you almost laughed at the irony of him warning you not to tell your own brother, if anything it should be the other way around. You thought the fact he was seeking approval from the other boys was cute, despite it causing problems in your own desires.

He didn’t seem to appreciate the fact that you chuckled at him, frowning softly and trying to make his expression more serious. You liked the dazed out look on his face, almost like he was too drunk on touching you to think clearly. You couldn’t help yourself from surging forward and pressing your lips tightly against his.

He froze up, hand squeezing your leg now so tight it was almost painful. You didn’t expect him to know how to kiss you back but he still tried after he regained his composure, pushing his face forward into yours.

You pulled back quickly, pecking his lips three more times in small kisses in the process. Not wanting to overwhelm him, you leaned back slightly to study his expression. When his eyes fluttered back open he was looking at you with shock and excitement, not even noticing the way his hand was kneading your hip inside of your shorts.

You took a breath to prepare to ask him if that was okay when you were cut off by him leaning back into you and kissing you again.

Smiling against his lips, you brought your hands up to cup his face and try to guide him a little bit more so he wasn’t just pressing his lips against yours in a haste. Still you let him explore on his own for a bit, tilting your head back so he could push into you.

After 30 seconds of letting him get used to the feeling, you started to move your mouth against his in a smooth rhythm. He hummed, low and guttural, at the sensation of actually kissing you and in his eagerness to move forward and lean into you, his hand slipped and pressed itself directly over your core.

You both gasped into the kiss, for different reasons considering the fact he immediately lept away from you onto the other side of the couch and covered his mouth in panic and apology.

You were just opening your mouth to tell him it was alright, more than okay in your opinion, when the front door was swinging open. You immediately closed your lips in anger and frustration at the sight of your brother who was observing the situation with squinted eyes.

It definitely looked damning, your shorts were ridden up on your thigh and Heeseung was sat a few feet away panting and running a hand through his hair to try to flatten it down.

Jake gave you a knowing look, a sharp glare and your lips curled into a smirk as you shrugged at him.

——

It was a day or two later and you were stood in the center of your room, staring at yourself in the mirror and trying to decide which color bathing suit you wanted to wear.

The boys all planned to go to the beach today, one last warm weekend before the fall season started and they were jammed packed with peak football busyness. Luckily for you, despite your current silent war you were having, Jake had extended the invitation to you and Sunoo too.

“The pinks way better.” Speaking of Sunoo, he was in his usual position that he adorned anytime you were getting dressed before heading out. Laying on his stomach with his feet in the air on your bed, watching you with a keen eye and sharp opinions.

You frowned at his comment, unsure and feeling slightly insecure. Trying not to think about how strange that was for you, you nodded in confirmation and pulled shorts and a hoodie over your suit for the ride there.

By the time you got to the car you were feeling pretty awful about the days direction, knowing yourself well enough to know something as small as not feeling pretty could ruin your mood completely. You tried to keep your energy light, planning to relax once you got there and not risk ruining anybody’s else day in collateral damage.

When the van door slid open, your eyes widened upon seeing Heeseung sat in your usual seat, his expression mirroring your own.

“Hope you don’t mind Y/N.” Riki was leaning forward from the backseat and smiling brightly at you. “Thought it would be cool to kidnap the new kid.”

You didn’t say anything, eyes sliding back over to Heeseung who was looking at you with heavy awkwardness but not avoiding your eye contact. You felt lighter at the knowledge he wasn’t taking what you had said about ignoring you lightly.

Climbing into the van and towards the back seat, you and Sunoo sat beside Riki and relaxed for the rest of the ride.

You liked being in the back like this, your position giving you the perfect view of Heeseung’s side profile. He kept glancing back at you throughout the drive, looking more and more surprised that your gaze never drifted from him.

You hadn’t spoken to him since kissing him, he had immediately stood from the couch with awkward posture and shuffled off in the direction Jake was leading him, not sparing you a glance.

You’d spent that night scrolling through his socials, atleast the ones that weren’t private, and wondering if you should message him or not. That thought didn’t last long, far too out of character for you and you’d already been accidentally doing that.

Heeseung didn’t need to know you were thinking about him before you went to sleep that night and he definitely didn’t need to know that you didn’t normally kiss the boys you played with.

After you’d gotten to the beach and all the boys had dog piled their way out of the van, you tugged your shorts down uncomfortably and followed behind them at a much slower pace. You liked observing them despite your bad mood, especially the playful laughs Sunoo let out as he joked around with them.

You were so caught up in your people watching that you didn’t notice Heeseung also lagging behind until he was walking side by side with you, keeping his distance but sparing you quick glances as you walked.

It surprised you that he both wasn’t ignoring you and that he was willingly being alone with you while your brother was only a few yards in front.

A strange satisfaction ran through you and you smiled in Heeseung’s direction, brightly when his ears and cheeks flushed bright red.

After the boys had set up the blankets and chairs, they ran off towards the water and you settled into one of the plastic seats. Jay was still stood near you, applying sunscreen diligently and squinting against the bright sun.

“You should let me put some on you.” He was saying once you took off your hoodie and you scoffed without looking at him. You didn’t mind Jay despite his flirting but you had no doubt his eyes were glued to your chest as he proposed applying the sunscreen to your bare skin.

“I’m serious.” He laughed at your reaction, knowing what you were thinking. “In a friendly way, I promise.”

You looked at him now from over your sunglasses, analyzing his expression as you felt the sun heat up your exposed skin.

“Fine.” You sighed and rolled over onto your stomach so he could have easier access to your back. “But you touch me inappropriately with your grubby hands and I’ll cut them off.”

“I bet your brother would first anyways.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, kneeling down on the sand next to you. You heard the cap of the bottle open as he squeezed a good amount into his hands and pressed them onto your skin. “Besides, I know you have your sights set on another suitor.”

You didn’t have to ask him what he was referring to, seeing no point in playing dumb. Both Jay and you knew a very large reason you’d never responded to his advances was because your specific type, and you also both knew who happened to fit that type perfectly.

“He’s cute.” You shrugged the best you could in your position and Jay pressed his thumb into your back, a light massage now as you talked.

“Sure, if you’re into that.” He chuckled softly and you smiled even though he couldn’t see it. “Not so cute with the way he’s glaring at me right now though.”

You sat up upon hearing that, resting on your elbows and looking over your shoulder towards the water where the rest of the boys had disappeared. At first you thought Jay was just teasing until you caught sight of Heeseung and confirmed the icy stare he was directing towards the two of you.

It was so out of his usual character that you felt genuine shock wrack through you, rolling over and sitting up properly.

After a few seconds of holding eye contact with each other he was wading out of the water and heading in your direction, Jay laughed and stood up swiftly with a mumble about ‘knowing when to leave’. He passed Heeseung on his way to the water and gave him a pat on the chest that you didn’t quite understand.

When he reached where you were sitting, you felt slightly hypnotized by the way he looked. He was standing over you and blocking out the sun, hair wet and dripping onto his tight swim shirt. He almost looked angry and your eyes dropped down to his extended hand that was pointing in your direction.

“Do you want to get ice cream with me?” Despite his tense exterior, his voice still sounded the exact same, a nervous quiver making his words quiet and stuttered.

He looked relieved when you nodded and took his hand, letting him pull you up onto your feet and help steady you.

The ice cream shop was connected to the beach but a bit away in the distance, leaving you out of view from the rest of your group and a bit more private. He hadn’t spoken the entire walk there and you were beginning to worry with how tense his shoulders were, stopping him before he turned the corner and softly guiding him so his back hit the side of the building.

He looked down at you as you crowded his space, pushing against him despite how cold the wetness of his shirt felt against your bare chest.

“What’s wrong?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes and he blinked down at you, jaw twitching with how tense it was

“Why didn’t you ask me?” He responded and you felt confused for a second before understanding he was referring to Jay applying your sunscreen.

The realization that he was jealous caused a surge of excitement to pass through you and you rocked forward on your toes, pressing against him harder if that was even possible.

“You walked away and he offered.” Your lips formed a pout despite your giddiness and his eyes went from your lips down to your chest that was smushed against his front.

You felt the sudden desperation to touch him or to have him touch you, maybe even to kiss him again. You just wanted to be as close to him as humanly possible, you wanted him to call you pretty again and you weren’t quite sure what to feel about this overwhelming urge.

“Don’t be mad at me Hee.” You continued after he didn’t say anything, his eyebrows pulled forward in a confused and jealous expression. You didn’t think he was actually mad at you but you didn’t like how his face didn’t have its usual softness.

“I’m not mad, I don’t know.” He confirmed your thoughts and shook his head, eyes softening just a little when he looked down at you again.

“Are you jealous?” You pressed on the subject, having a feeling he wouldn’t admit it on his own.

“I didn’t mind it I guess… seeing him touch you.” He admitted softly and you suddenly were plagued with the thought that he might be a lot less innocent than you thought. If anything he seemed a bit curious at the thought of somebody else touching you. “I just…”

“Wanted it to be you?” You filled in the blank for him as he trailed off and he nodded after a second.

You wanted to laugh at this but you didn’t, not wanting him to get embarrassed. Yet it was almost comical that he had absolutely no idea how much more of a chance he had with you than Jay, than any of the other boys who were constantly competing for your attention.

Instead of explaining this to him, you stood up on your toes again and pulled him down for a kiss.

Your hands were in his wet hair and a sudden shudder ran through you at the way he had to bend down to reach your mouth.

He was taken off guard for a second before kissing you back, this time immediately moving his mouth against yours in a nice slow rhythm like you had shown him next time. He was a fast learner and you felt giddy at that fact.

The kiss was sweet and slow, giving him the silent reassurance he seemed to be asking for but you felt growing impatience at the pace when you realized you were completely pressed against his lean body in a state of undress, tugging on his wet hair slightly in an attempt to catch his attention.

It seemed to work because you felt his shaky hands come up and rest on your lower back, pulling you tighter against him as he breathed an unsteady gasp against your lips. You liked the way he continuously tugged you forward despite there being no way you could get any closer to him.

His hands were fast and desperate as your mouths moved with eachother, the addicting feeling of kissing you clouding his mind and helping him forget all the anxiety and uneasiness he was originally feeling in your presence.

His knees were weakening and he slid down the wall slightly, legs jutting out at the weird angle so his leg was pressed slightly between your own, he immediately stopped pulling on your figure and kissing you, glancing down at what he’d just done.

He seemed unsure about the fact his knee was now practically hovering between your legs as you kept him trapped against the brick wall.

“Heeseung.” Your breathy use of his full name caught his attention and he snapped his head up to look at you. You didn’t say anything else, just nodding your head and kissing him again.

He accepted this as a form of permission, another surge of excitement and confidence pushing him to pull you closer again. This time, because of the new position, you were practically rocking against his bent leg as you breathed into his mouth.

You tried not to think about the fact you were practically dry humping him out in public, licking into his mouth to test his reaction to you pushing the kissing even further.

He half groaned, half whimpered at the feeling and squeezed his hands that were around your waist causing you to laugh at the ticklish sensation. Your laugh was interrupted by him pushing his tongue into your mouth suddenly, trying and failing to mirror what you had just done to him. You tugged on his hair again as a sign to take it slower, giving him a soft peck before demonstrating again.

You did that a few times, licking into his mouth and kissing him open mouthed and sloppy before pulling away to catch your breath and observe his reaction.

His normally wide eyes were downturned and hazy, dark with want and excitement as he experienced this emotion he’d never felt before. He felt addicted to you and the way you were melting against him, perched on his bent knee and taking pretty little gasps for air as you tried to calm yourself down.

“Fuck.” You were breathing out in a sigh and he couldn’t help but smile slightly at your state, feeling proud he had been the one to cause it. His cheeks were still bright red and you felt the urge to kiss him again. “You sure you haven’t done that before?”

This seemed to embarrass him further and he shifted against the wall, his shirt sticking to the rough material of the brick. He was practically dry by now and your hand left his hair to drag it’s way down his chest and stomach.

You could feel the muscle tensing and flexing under your touch despite the shirt creating a barrier between your skin to his and you felt mesmerized by the smooth slope of his stomach. He seemed to be taking in your outfit now too, possibly for the first time realizing how little clothes you were wearing.

“I didn’t know what to wear.” You were breathing out, overly aware of how self conscious you’d been earlier in the day regarding your bikini. It was pink and frilly, the bottoms fabric poking out from the top of your jean shorts.

“It’s perfect.” He was whispering, eyes locked on your chest and stomach. Then he was flushing again and looking back at you, embarrassment furthering at the way you quirked your eyebrow at him. “It’s pretty I mean.”

You didn’t respond, an unfamiliar blush on your cheeks at the sincerity in his compliment. You felt slightly angry at yourself for the way his validation changed your mood in seconds.

“Are you still upset.” You eventually asked and he shifted against the wall again, hands on your back pulling you tight like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

“Wasn’t upset.” He mumbled and shrugged, holding your eye contact for once. “He just talks about you sometimes.

This peaked your interest slightly and you cocked your head at him. You knew Jay thought you were hot and liked to mess with you to piss your brother off but you hadn’t considered the fact he might actually be voicing desires for you when you weren’t around to hear.

“What’s he say?” You questioned and Heeseung suddenly looked like he did when you first met, awkward and squeamish.

“Just..” He was mumbling and squirming against you with a frown. “Stuff he wants to do to you I guess.”

You didn’t say anything, just humming in understanding and studying his features and expression. He looked slightly pale and like he was rethinking the things his friend had said in private, jaw tensing again like it had by the water.

“Stuff like.. kissing me?” You flattened your hand on his chest as your voice turned into a low drawl. “Sticking his tongue in my mouth and letting me feel good on his thigh?”

His mouth was parting in a small breath as you kept talking, slowly understanding you were describing things you’d done with him to make a strong point.

“Let him talk.” You shrugged and kissed his jaw, taking a small step away from him afterwards. “I’ve made my choice.”

——

After ushering a flustered Heeseung back to the water, ignoring the glare from Jake at your lack of ice cream, you found yourself actually managing to have fun.

You joined in on playing with them in the water, playing chicken against Sunoo, him on Riki’s shoulders and you ontop of Heeseung’s.

His strength surprised you, winning all three rounds before you were tapping out and practically coughing out water with messy hair and a bright smile. The sun was setting by the time you all left and you liked the way he looked on the drive home far more than the trip there, eyes tired and skin tanned.

The night you were rolling around in bed again, trying not to disturb a sleeping Sunoo next to you while you locked and unlocked your phone in frustrated contemplation.

Eventually you gave in to your desire, pressing follow on Heeseung’s private instagram and immediately shutting your phone off and pressing it tight to your chest when it alerted you a request had been sent to him.

You felt incredibly stupid for acting like this and like you weren’t in control of your emotions for the first time in a very long time. You think part of you liked that factor about the types of people you normally were with, the control was completely and utterly up to you and they’d pretty much follow you into battle if you batted your eyelashes the right way.

Heeseung had a weird way of making you feel helpless, despite making no move himself to control you or the things you did, he still had an upsetting power over you that you don’t even think he realized.

Proven correct again by the way your heart surged as your phone vibrated against your chest, lifting it up and squinting at the bright screen to see he had accepted your request and followed you back.

You wondered what he was doing up this late, nearing 3am now and opened up his profile to see if he had any post. There was only a handful and you scrolled to the bottom first, studying a pretty photo of a dog in a window without a caption.

The next three post were also pretty simple, photos of sunsets and a guitar leaning against a wall that you assumed was in his room. The four most recent were what caught you attention, actually featuring him and other people unlike the other ones which seemed more atmosphere focused.

You smiled softly at the photo of him and your brother, Jake in his football uniform with black paint smeared across his face as he appeared mid yell with an arm around Heeseung’s shoulder. You noted the camera around Heeseung’s neck and realized you had been right about Jake lying and he wasn’t actually on the football team, just working with them.

The fondness you felt looking at the photo was followed by a pang of guilt as you looked at the next one, another photo with Jake but this time with the rest of the boys as well.

Heeseung was in the middle of the mirror selfie with a bright smile on his face, one you hadn’t seen and the other boys were crowding around him in different poses. You opened the comments to see them having various discussions, but all for the most part, praising Heeseung for taking a photo of his face and posting it.

The final two made your breath catch in your throat, considering the fact you were in both of them.

You weren’t sure when he had taken the first one, a photo of you lazily strewn in the plastic chair at the beach. You were adjusting your sunglasses and mid laugh at something that, you assume Sunoo, was saying off in the distance.

It must’ve been some time after your water fights considering your hair was wet across your shoulders and you weren’t wearing the shorts you had been before. The sun was cascading prettily and you don’t remember if it was actually that beautiful out or if he had edited the photo expertly.

You’d always been aware of the fact that people found you pretty, having heard it pretty much your entire life even when you didn’t quite believe it or know how to respond. You’re sure nowadays people found it as a negative thing, thinking you were too full of yourself when you fluffed your perfectly crafted hair or conceited in the way you constantly reapplied mascara and lipgloss. But for the first time in your entire life, staring at this photo he’d taken of you, you thought you looked beautiful.

You liked it hesitantly, scrolling up to see the second and final one of you.

You’d seen him take this one, it was right after he’d taken a few of Jake and Jay as they dried off and joked around with each other and then he was turning the camera towards you.

A smile spread across your face making your cheeks hurt as you looked at it. You were staring at the camera with a shocked look on your cheery face, a peace sign held up in a blur of movement from your fast attempt at a pose before he clicked the button.

These ones didn’t have any captions either but something about him picking two photos of you from all the ones you’d seen him taking today made your heart race in a way that made you slightly queasy. He was continuing to surprise you and more noticeably, making you surprise yourself.

“Can you shut that shit off?” Sunoo’s groggy voice was immediately snapping you out of your little dream like thought process, the brightness of your screen waking him up.

“I think I like him.” You let your words hang in the darkness, not liking the way he fell completely silent at your whispered statement.

“That’s new.” He eventually breathed out and you heard him turn onto his side, trying to look at you in the darkness. You were laying flat on your back and staring up at the ceiling in contemplation. There was some left over glow in the dark stars from a middle school sleepover the two of you had.

“Yeah.” You breathed out in response. “Well.. goodnight.”

——

By the time you had finally woken up, eyes peeling open with a groan, Sunoo was already up and out of bed. You could hear him off somewhere in your house, laughing loudly at something.

You frowned and checked the time, noting the two notifications underneath the numbers alerting you it was already past noon.

Jake was one of the notification banners, sending you a message to announce the fact he was having a party tonight. Your frown deepened as you read that. Your weekends were usually filled with bouncing from different houses with each other but it was rare you held one at home.

The other notification changed your mood, seeing that Heeseung had seemingly liked every single one of your instagram post while you had been sleeping.

You smiled to yourself giddily at the thought of him scrolling through your page, without thinking you were pressing the ‘message’ tab on his page and typing.

y/n : hi

heeseung : Hey

y/n : woah that was fast

heeseung : Sorry

heeseung : Should I wait a bit

You laughed out loud at the fact he was somehow able to be more awkward over text than he already was in person, a fondness settling in your tired head.

y/n : will i see u tonight?

A few seconds passed without a response despite the little words under your message letting you know he had read it immediately, most likely sitting with your chat open similarly to how you were with his.

heeseung : I’m actually already here… downstairs to be specific

y/n : will u come up here?

You sent the message before you thought about it and you watched his activity status turn off after he read your message.

You immediately panicked and sat up swiftly, you hadn’t even considered the fact you were freshly woken up and he had never seen you in any state of slightly natural, suddenly overwhelming insecure of how you looked.

Before you had a chance to get out from under the covers or look in the mirror, soft knocks on your door were making you freeze and hold your breath.

You felt ridiculous once Heeseung poked his head inside your door, his big round eyes brightening when he saw you sat up with your blankets covering your lap. He looked excited to see you and you quickly forgot about your appearance or what he might’ve been thinking at the sight of you. He clearly was happy to see you.

“Hey.” He breathed out, sliding through a small gap in your door and softly closing it behind him. You wondered if he gave Jake an excuse for leaving or just hoped he wouldn’t notice his absence.

“Hi.” You smiled warmly at him and patted the side of your bed that was empty, where Sunoo had been sleeping a few hours before. He glanced at you in confusion for a second before hesitantly walking closer to your bed and slowly lowering himself onto it.

It creaked underneath his weight and you laughed softly at his slow movements, lifting the blankets once he was sat down and tossing them over his lap so you were both halfway underneath the covers.

“Are we taking a nap?” He was whispering in a joking tone and you briefly acknowledged the fact he was a lot more casual around you in terms of saying things on his mind.

You were a bit nervous about this change in pacing between the two of you. Maybe he had come up to your room expecting something similar to your past interactions, maybe he was even disappointed as he laid next to you in your warm bed with no sign of your usual devil horns peeking through.

“Is that okay?” Even when unsure of yourself, you liked to remain blunt and honest.

He looked at you for a few beats, eyes warm and knowing like he had somehow figured out your insecurity. Then he was nodding and laying back against the pillow, outstretching an arm onto yours so when you laid down, it’d be against him and not your fabric.

You curled against his side and silently appreciated him for not saying anything, drinking in his silence and resting your head on his chest so you could listen to his heartbeat.

Surprisingly, it was still racing just as fast as it normally was despite only laying in bed with you. He was showing no signs of nervousness or anxiety, or maybe you were still half asleep and were just failing to pick up on his usual signs.

“Are you nervous?” You whispered for some reason and he tightened his arm around you, rubbing your back slowly and uncertainly.

“I’m always nervous I think.” He was whispering back and you almost laughed at the drama of it all. “Especially around you.”

You hummed softly, your hand coming up to rest against his stomach so you could feel his inhales better. He was wearing a white tshirt and you could feel his muscles tensing at your touch.

“Because I’m pretty?” You tried not to sound desperate when you asked, not wanting him to think you were fishing for compliments. You just wanted to hear him say it for some reason.

“Yeah, you’re pretty.” He seemed to always know what you were thinking, immediately fulfilling your request despite the blush it brought to his cheeks. “And you’re nice to me.”

This caught your attention more than the first part, although that also undeniably made your face flush. You weren’t quite sure you’d be at all nice to him, sure you hadn’t made a fool out of him or completely ignored him but you were genuinely taken back by the fact he thought you were nice.

You’d heard charming, alluring and even, at times, manipulatively sweet but it was rare somebody told you they thought you were kind.

“Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?” You pushed forward in your low spoken questioning, liking the vulnerability this position gave you. You were the closest you’ve ever been but you couldn’t see each others faces, making it easier to speak freely.

You felt his body move in what, you could only assume, was a small shrug. His hand stopped moving on your back and you shifted closer to him, frowning slightly at his sudden silence.

“You’re nice too.” You decided to say eventually, feeling embarrassed at the openness.

“I’m sure everybody’s nice to you.” He was slowly sounding more tired and you wanted to sit up and shake him awake so you could keep talking. “It must be hard not to be.”

You didn’t like the way he said that, like you were somebody deserving of good treatment all the time. You suddenly felt a pang of guilt at the reminder of who you were, why he was even in your bed in the first place.

“It’s different.” You said instead, not wanting to give those nasty thoughts too much attention. “You’re actually nice. Not because you want to sleep with me or get close to my brother.”

“I think sleeping with you would solidify me never being close to your brother again.” You could hear the smile in his voice and you laughed against his chest. He seemed looser when he was tired and you wanted to ask him all the things he’d normally be too shy to say out loud.

A minute passed in the silence and you realized through the soft rise and fall of his stomach that he had fallen asleep, arm limp in it’s place on your side.

You tried not to think about any of the things bothering you despite Sunoo’s voice in your head reminding you that your normal habits were immoral. Focusing in instead on the soft beat of Heeseung’s heart, you let yourself fall back asleep against him.

——

By the time you woke up again, even more groggy and out of it than you had been the first time, you could tell it was later in the day.

The soft blue haze of the sun setting was filling up your room and you almost started to stretch like normal before remembering you hadn’t fallen asleep alone, sitting up slightly in confusion at the lack of company in your bed.

Heeseung wasn’t there anymore and the blankets were messy like he had left in a hurry. You waited for a few seconds to listen in for him, maybe in your connected bathroom a few feet away but after not hearing anything and feeling the fact the bed was cold on his side you figured he had left some time ago.

You weren’t mad at him considering the fact the party had probably begun to start by now, you sleeping most the day away after having such a long night, but you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he hadn’t left a note or sent a text.

You immediately felt stupid for thinking like this considering he was most likely just downstairs with the other boys and it wasn’t like he went home in the middle of the night, he knew he’d see you even if he left. It wasn’t like you to act like this over a boy and it would’ve been more frustrating and worrisome if he wasn’t so kind and gentle with you.

Finally climbing out of bed, you dressed yourself in a skirt and a hoodie before fixing your hair and applying some mascara. They were most likely pregaming by now, maybe a few early stragglers stopping by to get ahold of the best drinks before they were gone. But you didn’t really feel the need to overdo your appearance like you typically did, feeling more comfortable since it was held at your house and you could always come and change if the situation called for it.

You were leaving your room and making your way to the stairs when you heard unfamiliar laughs and voices coming from the living room.

Pausing against the railing, you froze and listened in to what they were saying once you heard your name from one of their mouths.

“I mean you have to tell us dude, she has to be good considering how much she’s ran through.” One of the boys from the football team was talking and you could practically hear the smile in his voice.

You weren’t sure who he was talking to but it didn’t bother you much considering you’d heard it before, rumors from classmates and name calling from boys who were mad you had turned them down.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This definitely bothered you. Heeseung’s sweet nervous voice was floating up the stairs and you heard the other boys started laughing again at the way his voice shook.

“C‘mon man, I totally saw you leaving her room earlier when Sim called.” Another boy was speaking now and you wondered how many were down there and why your brother wasn’t with Heeseung.

You considered marching down there and dragging Heeseung away from the teasing, but you figured that would only put him in a worse spot. You didn’t mind anybody knowing you were doing things with him but you knew he was serious about Jake not finding out.

“Why would I fuck her?” Heeseung was talking again and your heart dropped at his tone of voice, almost sounding disgusted by the idea. “Like you said, she’s ran through.”

You didn’t hear anything else after that, ears deafening once the boys started to laugh and seemingly smack his back in approval for his harsh words against you. Your throat felt hot with embarrassment and panic was filling up your chest and head.

“Y/N? What are you doing up there?” Jake’s concerned voice filtered through and you looked down through the gaps in the banister, seeing him having just walked through the door with groceries bags dangling from his arm.

Your teary eyes shuffled over towards Heeseung and the football players to see him standing completely rigid as he looked up at you, Jake calling attention to you and your hiding place.

There was no use in pretending you hadn’t heard what he said, your expression betraying you and making it extremely obvious.

You were turning around and darting back into your room, slamming the door and throwing yourself onto your bed in a sob. Burying your face into the pillow, you groaned in frustration at the fact it smelled like Heeseung and you threw it onto the floor.

You’ve heard these things before, even worse at times but for some reason hearing him say it felt like the worst thing possible.

It was the scariest thing in the world, the way you felt about him so soon, but for once you were finding yourself liking the loss of control. It felt safe and comfortable, completely opposing how it normally felt.

You weren’t sure if he actually thought those things about you or if he was just trying to douchebag his way out of an awkward conversation but it didn’t matter to you regardless, his voice looping in your head with that unfamiliar tone.

A vibration under your stomach was causing you to pick up your sniffly face, eyes squinted with tears as you shuffled around to try to find your abandoned phone you were apparently smothering.

When you finally managed to feel it against your wandering hand you saw a few different text chain alerts.

One from Sunoo, asking if you were okay and if he could come up or if you wanted some space. Another was from Jake again, double texting to ask a similar thing followed by telling you he’d cancel the party if you wanted him to.

You responded to them both quickly, telling Sunoo you were okay and you’d talk to him later and letting Jake know you didn’t care about the party you’d just stay in your room.

The third message was from Heeseung’s instagram account but you didn’t look at it, shutting off your screen and yelling into your blanket.

You thought for just a second about getting up out of your bed and putting on your best outfit, going down to join the party and acting like Heeseung hadn’t affected you as much as he did.

But that was the thing you liked most about him. You didn’t feel the need to play this character or hide behind an emotionless mask.

Instead you spent the rest of the night in that same position, listening to the music gradually get louder as more and more people filled into your house. You almost wanted to laugh at the irony of you, a complete party goer with a carefree lifestyle, hiding from an exciting night just a few feet away.

Hours were passing like that, your mind racing with thoughts of what they could be doing down there. You wondered if Heeseung wanted to follow you up here but was too shy or if he had no plans of coming at all. You curled into a ball on your side.

Eventually you let yourself fall asleep again, body feeling heavy and exhausted from crying and overthinking. You couldn’t have been asleep long before you were waking up again to soft knocks against your door, you frowned deeply and ignored them.

You figured it was some drunken idiot, maybe a couple looking for a room to hook up in and you didn’t have the energy to tell them to go away so you just laid there in silence and hope they didn’t try to turn your unlocked doorknob. That hope didn’t last long before you heard the soft rattle of the metal, the knob squeaking as it twisted and your door was pushed open just a sliver.

Nobody came through it at first, like they were waiting for a reaction from you, and then Heeseung’s head was poking through it just how it did this morning.

The scene was a direct replay but the mood was completely flipped now, his face lacking any sign of a warm smile and instead looking startled at the fact you were awake and looking at him coming into your room.

“Were you hoping I was asleep so you could just leave?” You looked away from him as you spoke, rolling back onto your stomach to try to look less pathetic and more casual.

He didn’t say anything, coming into your room considering the fact you hadn’t screamed at him to get out, and closing the door behind him.

“I wanted to talk to you.” He was stuttering and you had a feeling he was wringing his hands together but he sounded sure of himself.

You sighed and turned your head to look at him from your spot on the bed. He was awkwardly hovering next to the bed and looking at you, face crumpling with guilt when he saw your puffy eyes and red cheeks.

“Or I can just suck your dick and you can go and rate it on a scale of 1-10 for the entire school body.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your sarcasm and he slowly sat on your bed, keeping his distance and barely resting against the edge of it.

“That’s not funny.” He shook his head as he spoke, his back was towards you but he was looking over his shoulder at you.

“It seemed to be earlier.” That was slightly unfair of you considering he hadn’t been laughing with them earlier from what you could tell but his harsh words had been replaying in your mind for hours and you weren’t feeling the most gentle towards him.

“They just got in my head I don’t know.” He was still shaking his head and pressing his hands tightly against his knees. “They kept talking about what you do and I just wanted it to be different.”

“It is different.” You were cutting him off and his jaw twitched slightly. He didn’t seem to know how to explain himself properly and he was digging himself a bigger hole. “I thought what we were doing was different.”

“How?” He was turning more so he could look at you more directly, eyebrows furrowed in an angry expression you hadn’t seen before. “What’s different about this? Jake told me the same thing when I first got here, I know you’re just going to drop this once it’s over.”

“Everything is different about this.” You sat up now, perched on your knees and leaning forward on your hands for emphasis. “I’m not going to sit here and feel bad about my sex life because of your ego Heeseung.”

His face dropped and he shook his head. You knew he wasn’t like that and he wasn’t directly shaming you for being experienced, he was just insecure and didn’t know how to express it. But that wasn’t an excuse for the things he had said about you.

“If you want to hide… whatever this is than fine that’s your choice.” Your voice wavered as you said it, the thought stinging slightly of him being ashamed to be with you. “You could have lied or brushed them off but you chose to insult me and say horrible things.”

His face was softening again in guilt and you were slightly confused before you realized you were crying again. He seemed to lean forward without realizing it and you sat back up on your knees to keep distance between you.

“I’m sorry.” He looked and sounded genuine and you wanted to believe he was but you had also never thought he’d be capable of something like that, so maybe you were trusting him too blindly.

“You made it sound disgusting.” You spat the final word out, face curling in a hurt sob and then he was pulling you into a tight hug, falling forward on your knees and crashing into his chest.

You wanted to be able to push him off of you and tell him to leave your room, leave your house better yet, but you couldn’t help wrapping your arms around his neck and crying into the same soft shirt you’d been sleeping peacefully on a few hours ago.

“It’s not disgusting.” His voice was causing his chest to vibrate and you could feel his heartbeat against your cheek. “I’m such an idiot and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with being with you.”

He sounded the most confident you’d heard him, voice lacking its usual quiver and stutter other than the heavy weight of emotion behind his statement.

“You’re right, it was a total ego thing. I didn’t understand why somebody as confident and pretty as you would be interested in me.” He continued on and you wanted to interrupt and dispute his negative claims against himself but you decided to let him finish since he, for once, seemed sure in his words.

“I like spending time with you even if it hasn’t been that long.” You sniffled as he spoke and burrowed into his chest so he knew you were still listening. “Even if Jake tackles me next time he sees me.”

You laughed at that and you felt him rest his chin on top of your head. You were still upset but his words were helping and you wanted to believe him, you were just contemplating if it was worth abandoning the techniques you’d been using to avoid getting hurt like this.

“Maybe I should have asked you on a date before trying to put my fingers in your mouth.” You were whispering against his chest and he barked a laugh at your sudden blunt joke.

Neither of you said anything after that, letting each other think over the situation and sit in a tight hug, you practically in his lap now. You felt a strange tug at your heart regarding the fact there was complete innocence between you despite the compromising position.

“Is this a bad time to ask you on a date then?” He eventually was whispering above your head and you smiled softly into his shirt.

[n3ptoonz]

mk1 dialogues with the outworld guys!

a/n: only some characters will have flirtatious lines, while others i can't stand so they WILL get made fun of (i'm looking at you shao.)

i get reiko has fans, so i pander A LIL BIT🙄i can't with havik tho im sorry i didn't grow up w his character so 🧍🏾‍♀️

for syzoth reader is a demon that can shapeshift cause he clearly got a type (ashrah is so freaking pretty)

enjoy ;p

Rain

you: i like wizards

rain: i don't like being called a "wizard"

rain: you couldn't handle the son of a god.

you: if you mean in a fight, probably not, otherwise, absolutely

you: i don't mind getting a little wet from rain

rain: you earthrealmers sure are painstakingly persistent.

rain: i would never court a commoner.

you: you won't be saying that after this match, i guarantee it (wink sound effect).

Reptile

syzoth: if you're from the netherrealm...do you work for quan chi?

you: when i was brain washed yes, now i am reformed and seek redemption

you: do not be afraid, i am kin to ashrah and share her ideologies

syzoth: never thought i would meet so many demons in this life

syzoth: you see what you like? i mean like you- see-

you: demon got your tongue?

you: i find you adorable in both forms, syzoth

syzoth: hey, that's my line!

Shang Tsung

shang tsung: how could I bring harm to such a fine specimen?

you: the same way i'm about to

you: stop flirting with me, sorcerer

shang tsung: not until you consider my offer of ruling the realms by my side

shang tsung: i wouldn't fight me if i were you, i could split your body into eighths

you: tough talk from a man with a silk press

you: you wanna kiss me so bad

shang tsung: kiss, kill, life is all about wonder

Reiko

reiko: you dare poke fun at the ways of an Outworld warrior?

you: uh, you should've seen how you looked shadow boxing at Raiden, I had to laugh

you: come here often?

reiko: wha- you came to my house!

reiko: you just won't quit, will you?

you: there's just something about meatheads that do the trick

you: kiss me, k-k-kiss me, infe-

reiko: it was ONE drunk night!

General Shao

you: just big and greedy

shao: careful, kung lao might overhear you.

shao: ha! you think your puny little self could win against me?

you: you were bested by a farm boy with a sleeper build. nothing about you scares me

you: reiko did not get his looks from his father

shao: soon you won't live long enough to compare!

shao: if i win, you serve as my consort

you: you actually have to have power first to have such imagination

Baraka

baraka: your flesh smells amazing.

you: thanks, new fragrance I made mys- oh you meant as food.

you: so like, does your mouth ever get dry?

baraka: that is the stupidest question i've ever been asked since my affliction

baraka: every day i wake up in aguish.

you: i asked you what time it was...

you: i would ask you to dinner, but you'd run straight for the civilians

baraka: i cannot help what i've become- wait, ask me to dinner?!

Havik

you: what in the actual fu-

havik: continue and you won't be having a mouth either!

havik: why are you looking at me like that?!

you: i'm trying to figure out just how the hell you and baraka pronounce your M's and P's

you: impressive you didn't die from getting a face full of lava

havik: it's probably the only thing liu kang did right!

havik: don't tell me to relax! i lost half my face!

you: hey, you could chill on the whole realm domination and killing a god thing, just saying

--

a/n: this was so hard to write omfg i don't even like half this list😭let me know if y'all want kameo dialogues either in comments or ask box

[techramonic]

Descent to Death and Destruction: A comprehensive analysis of “Zero-day”

Disclaimer: This post is not meant to glorify or romanticize the film and the event it is based on. My heart goes out to all affected by these types of events, thank you.

“I am become death, destroyer of worlds.” a phrase originating from a portion of Lord Krishna’s dialogue from the Bhagavad Gita. With an archaic English structure, formed using the auxiliary verb “am” instead of “have”, forming a poetic expression that transcends grammatical correctness.

Saying “I am Death” emphasizes embodying death itself, a state of destruction, but it negates the process of becoming. Conversely, “I have become Death” focuses on the process of becoming but nullifies the state of already being. However, by saying “I am become Death,” you actively encapsulate both the process of undergoing and the current state of becoming. This means you have undergone and become one with creation and annihilation.

This concept can be applied to analyze the characters of “Zero Day,” the fictionalized troubled teenagers Andre Kriegman and Calvin Gabriel, who meticulously plan a school massacre. Throughout the film, each character undergoes a transformation fueled by hatred.

Firstly, Andre exemplifies the process of becoming and the active presence of becoming itself. Plagued with suppressed temperamental issues, Andre undergoes a plethora of emotions like any teenager has over the world and the uncontrollable circumstances that affect him. Yet two remain most prominent — anger and hate.

His meticulous planning creates a new layer of detachment, an approach that sees purpose in destruction due to the inherent lack of purpose other than vengeance. With constant efforts to alienate himself because he has already actively experienced it his whole life, Andre’s sense of identity develops from being victimized into being the perpetrator, a role distinct as a mere harbinger of death. Andre sees this as the foremost desirable identity, the immortalization of oneself as a destroyer. From the constant detachment from the world because of the understanding that no one has the capability to understand him, even if he does not understand himself, he undergoes the metamorphosis of becoming destruction itself. When he does finally become it, he has achieved a sense of purpose.

In contrast, we observe the opposite with Cal, where he does not focus on the process of becoming death but rather being death itself. There is complacency in trusting Andre’s plan with an underlying ideology of fulfilling his purpose, death. Death that is all-encompassing, both for those around him and himself — where this destruction not only consumes others but ultimately himself. Unlike Andre’s active pursuit of purpose, Cal is well aware of the fact that he does not have one, and with that, he accepts what Andre has to offer, believing it will give him one. As the film progresses, he embraces the role of the destroyer, indicating a loss of his former self and the complete adoption of his new, destructive identity. In following Andre, he unconsciously gains the purpose of a destroyer, however, it is still void for him to ever have one, hence why he killed himself after the event. Ultimately, this portrays his loss of sense of self in trying to find a sense of self.

In the context of Andre and Calvin, they do not simply perform an act of destruction; they become embodiments of destruction itself. This transformation is not a fleeting moment but an irreversible process leading to the massacre. The parallels between the phrase and their characters suggest their disconnection from normalcy and humanity. Andre and Cal are now unrecognizable, stripped of the humanity and identity they ever had; they are now “Death,” signifying a complete and terrifying metamorphosis.

This movie exemplifies the psychological impacts and effects of being mentally disturbed and unable to be helped. Where people experience a trauma so deeply nestled within them that it hinders them from recognizing the idea of getting better and moving on. They remain in perpetual limbo, filled with self-deprecation and hatred of others. Though the traumas they have faced are not easy to cope with, the denial of change and empathy intensifies the destruction felt by their torment and ultimately allows it to consume them whole.

They are now met with the very destruction they are affected by and consumed by it whole. Now having simultaneously become death and are death at this very point on.

They are become death.

[sky-is-the-limit]

As I'm only getting into episode 30 of the anime *i've already watched opla 50 times*, I need some Luffy experts to tell me if he'd be the jealous/possesive type cause I have something in mind for my introduction to the OP fandom (mainly drabbles/reactions for now)

Cause I see him as the type to be more possesive than jealous, in the sense of "I'm your Captain, I should be your top priority" and then that quickly turning into "I'm your Captain so you're mine" but being kinda chill about it? Like it's obvious it should be that way.

And then he'd get jealous whenever you'd defy that ideology??? cause despite him being the Captain, you are your own person so you can talk/flirt with whoever you want.

At first he wouldn't understand what that angry green growing feeling in his belly is until he'd be 1 step away from gum gum pistoling the guy you're talking to and someone from the crew *prob Nami* would call him out on it.

Maybe Sanji would then have to explain to him later on what Nami meant and how people who are in love sometimes tend to get jealous etc for him to fully understand the urge to beat people up whenever they'd get too close to you or other straw hats spending way too much time with you when he's right there???

Let me know if my assessment is correct or what you think would be a better approach/headcanon!!

[idlebirdsparagon]

Musings On Sacrifice And Happiness Regarding Ram & Bheem

@hag-lad this snowballed a bit and took me a few days, but I was not making empty promises in the tags; it is done.

All right folks. This little analysis was inspired by this post by @enigma-the-mysterious and is an exploration of Ram and Bheem's attitudes toward their mortality and potential deaths. Neither of these two knuckleheads (affectionate) seem even the least bit apprehensive at the thought of their own deaths and I want to unpack that.

Content warning for talk of death, and disregard for personal safety, as per the movie.

Bheem: "I'll die with pride."

[Note: this section will be a little less of a deep dive into subtext and deeper meaning/conjecture and more a general explanation of the text, mainly because Bheem, barring the necessity of his Akhtar persona, functions narratively as the "what you see is what you get/I said what I meant" type. But it's fun to talk about him, and I'm making a culminating point at the end of this so I need this here for the sake of ✨️balance✨️]

Given his role as the protector for the Gond people, I would argue that it's reasonable to assume Bheem is, at any given point, ready to sacrifice himself for those he considers to be under his protection, whether directly a part of his tribe or not, especially based on the description of the protector given by Venkat Avadhani; yes Bheem is often likened to a tiger within the fandom (I do this too), but I think the imagery presented of a man willing to break a tiger's teeth and pry open its jaws to save someone is incredibly visceral and indicative of how far Bheem is willing to go as just one person.

Bheem lives with the knowledge that there's always a high chance that he will die as a natural outcome of his role among his people, as evidenced by how he doesn't promise his return when comforting Ram, saying instead "If we get out safely, I'll come meet you again."

And if he dies for the sake of ensuring that others get to live, that's a net positive for him; his purpose as protector fulfilled.

His entire line to Ram before he leaves to rescue Malli is a verbal acknowledgement of how much love he holds for his friend and an assurance to Ram that he'll have comfort in his final moments should they come to pass; he's not actively seeking to die, and he'll do his best to avoid dying, but he won't deem it an untimely tragedy should it happen. And having forged such a close friendship with Ram, that's another net positive he's been party to, so he can die with pride having done his job and holding the memory of Ram in his heart in his final moments.

Ram: "I will die gladly, Uncle."

I'm not gonna ease into this idea, I'm too eager so I'm just going to lay it out: Alluri Rama Raju does not live for himself and does not pursue his mission with his wellbeing in mind. Ram operates under the notion of being an instrument of the revolution and, even in times of his most heinous acts, regards himself as such rather than as a person. This is ultimately a topic for another dissection, but to tie it into the point of this post: when a tool breaks, do you weep? Does the tool?

I'm not going to wax poetic about material loss versus emotional loss; there is a nuance there that begs for a much longer word count. However, I will underline the point I'm making about Ram and how he regards his life.

Ram is given the mantle of being the weapon of the revolution at a very young age and we are told that he has worked for 15 years toward his (and his father's) goal; if you subscribe to the ideology that your life is that of a tool meant to achieve a goal, rather than as evidence of a living being, how will that change how you regard that life? Is it something precious outside of the mission?

Ram has a severe reckless disregard for his personal safety; jumping into a throng of protesters with nothing but a lathi as his weapon/protection being the biggest example of this.

(look at him go. wild. i'm armchair diagnosing him as clinically unwell.)

Ram is well aware of his prowess as a weapon and that gives him the confidence and internal permission to take wild risks without a moment's hesitation; he also knows that, ultimately, a weapon, if broken beyond repair, is replaceable; while he isn't looking to break himself, he certainly isn't being precious with his existence either.

And I would posit that he functions on a day to day basis under the need to accomplish his mission, get the weapons for his people and expel the British; beyond that? I wouldn't put money on Ram having planned for the future, or even having thought of making it to whatever future might be there for him. Though this idea is more of a headcanon than anything else; feel free to agree with or dismiss it as you like.

Then comes his ideological shift in the face of Bheem's rousing defiance of the Empire, and Ram's participation in it, in front of the people of Delhi at the whipping post.

Ram is forced to reckon with the fact that in his bid to be the weapon that brings about the downfall of the British Empire, he has effectively put that weapon into the hands of the enemy and allowed it to be wielded against the people he has been trying to liberate, and he knows this. The thought has been building for some time, as evidenced by his letter to Sita, but being ordered to flog Bheem expedited the process of cementing it as truth, with the final acknowledgement of that truth happening during Komuram Bheemudo.

But what to do with that realization?

What do you do when your purpose is thrown at your feet and you're forced to look at the culmination of your life's efforts as something that has been horribly corrupted and been rendered ultimately impotent? Let's me be specific with this rhetorical bit: What is Ram meant to do when looking at his guilt made manifest in the wounds littering Bheem's body, put there by his hand? Guilt that has been looming over his actions since his final shot in his village at his father's back?

(do you ever think about the fact that they show us the moment Ram stopped genuinely smiling until the day he met Bheem?...i do)

After the flogging Ram says Bheem is a volcano; I want to take that metaphor and turn it in my hands a bit to say I'd regard Bheem more as the catalyst for the eruption of people in Delhi, the introduction of magma into the chamber that triggers the previous buildup to come rushing forth; again another analysis for another time. Suffice it to say Bheem's actions and defiance in the face of the British and his torture incite immediate and tangible results in a way that Ram's methods from the inside never have and never would have been able to.

Here's where I'm going to bring it back to the idea of Ram and his happiness to potentially die for Bheem

Ram pins his hopes of a successful revolution onto Bheem. He doesn't seem the type to excuse failure in any capacity in regard to himself, and he has just been made painfully and undeniably aware that what he has been doing for the past 4 years has not been working; time to effectively decommission himself as the weapon. And if he dies, well, such is the way of things, no? Ram is beyond skilled in a great many things, especially combat, but I doubt he's ever regarded himself as invincible, he gets hurt too badly and far too often for that to make sense. Luck eventually runs out. He can do what needs to be done, he has every confidence in that, but he's aware of the possibility that doing so will come at the cost of his life. And with all that he has done up to the point of his about face after Bheem's flogging, he's more than ready to pay that price in his own blood.

Ram's life is not his, at least not by his estimation, and if he can keep Bheem alive, his own life is fine to be forfeit. He can die happy knowing Bheem still lives, with the added bonus of knowing the revolution will continue in his absence. At least in death he will have successfully done something good for his people and country.

To Summarize:

Both men are at peace with the idea of their respective deaths: Ram ultimately because he doesn't see his death as a loss if Bheem is still alive, and Bheem because he doesn't see his death as a tragedy if it means saving the life of another, especially with the knowledge that he can hold his friendship with Ram in his heart as he dies.

Though of course, within the context of the movie, neither of them has to die for the other, and I like to think that after the events of the movie they will gladly keep each other alive and never even think to regard doing so as a burden.

And that's where I'll end this analysis. If you made it this far, or just skipped to the summary, thank you for reading!

[denimbex1986]

We are lucky to be alive in the age of Andrew Scott, an actor of extraordinary breadth, skill and sensitivity, who can terrify as Jim Moriarty in Sherlock, make us fall in love (inappropriately) as the hot priest in Fleabag and cry in All of Us Strangers. He can also astonish, last year playing eight parts in a stage adaptation of Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya. He recently became the first actor to win the UK Critics’ Circle awards for best actor on stage and screen in the same year. And his latest project, Ripley, is a beautiful and chilling adaptation of the Patricia Highsmith novel The Talented Mr Ripley, with Scott playing the lead, dominating all eight one-hour episodes. It’s been a wild, crowning year for the 47-year-old Irish actor. But in March his mother, Nora, died of a sudden illness; she is who Scott has credited as being his foremost creative inspiration. His grief is fresh and intense and for the first half of the interview it seems to swim just beneath the surface of our conversation.

“We go through so many different types of emotional weather all the time,” he says. “And even on the saddest day of your life you might be hungry or have a laugh. Life just continues.” We are in a meeting room in his management company’s offices, talking about his ability, in his work, to modulate between emotions, to go from happy to sad, confused to scared, all within a matter of seconds. How does he do it? Scott laughs. “I would say that I have quite a scrutable face — is scrutable a word? — which is good or bad depending on what you are trying to achieve. But my job is to be as truthful as possible in the way that we are, and I don’t think that human beings are just one thing at any particular time. It is rare that we have one pure emotion.”

It’s an approach that is particularly appropriate for the playing of Tom Ripley, an acquisitive chameleon who inveigles his way into the lives of others (in this case Johnny Flynn, as the careless and wealthy Dickie Greenleaf, and his on-off girlfriend Marge, played by Dakota Fanning). “Ripley is witty, he is very talented. That’s gripping, to watch talent. I can’t call him evil — it is very easy to call people who do terrible things evil monsters, but they are not monsters, they are humans who do terrible things. Part of what she [Highsmith] is talking about is that if you dismiss a certain faction of society it has repercussions, and Ripley is someone who is completely unseen, he lives literally among the rats, and then there are these people who are gorgeous and not particularly talented and have the world at their feet but are not able to see the beauty that he can see.”

The show was written and directed by Steven Zaillian, the screenwriter of Schindler’s List. It’s set in Sixties New York and Italy, and filmed entirely in black-and-white, its chiaroscuro aesthetic evoking films of the Sixties — particularly those of Federico Fellini — while also offering an alternative to Anthony Minghella’s saturated late-Nineties iteration that starred Matt Damon and Jude Law. This has a darker flavour. “I found it challenging,” Scott says, “in the sense that he’s a solitary figure and ideologically we are very different. So you have to remove your judgment and try to find something that is vulnerable.”

It was a tough shoot, taking a year and filmed during lockdown. Scott was exhausted at the end of it and had intended to take a three-month break, but delays meant that he went straight from Ripley into All of Us Strangers. “Even though I was genuinely exhausted, it was energising because I was back in London, I was getting the Tube to work, there was sunshine,” he says. “I found it incredibly heartful, that film, there were so many different versions of love … I feel that all stories are love stories.”

All of Us Strangers, directed by Andrew Haigh, is about a screenwriter examining memories of his parents who died when he was 12. In it Scott’s character, Adam, returns to his family home, where his parents are still alive and as they were back in the Eighties. Adam is able to walk into the memory and to come out to his parents, finding the words that were unavailable to him as a boy. Some of it was filmed in Haigh’s childhood home, and there was a strong biographical element for him and his lead. Homosexuality was illegal in the Republic of Ireland until 1993, when Scott was 16. He did not come out to his parents until he was in his early twenties. I ask if he was working with his own childhood experiences in the film. “Of course, so in a sense it was painful, to a degree, but it was cathartic because you are doing it with people that you absolutely love and trust. I felt that it was going to be of use to people and I was right, it has been. The reaction to the movie has been genuinely extraordinary — it makes people feel and see things, and that isn’t an easy thing to achieve.”

The film is also a tender and erotic love story between Scott’s character and Harry, played by the Irish actor Paul Mescal. The two found a real-life kinship that made them a delight to watch on screen and off it, as a double act on the awards circuit. “I adore Paul, he’s so, so … continues to be …” Scott pauses. “Obviously it’s been a tough time recently and he just continues to be a wonderful friend. It’s everything. The more I work in the industry, I realise, you make some stuff that people love and you make some stuff that people don’t like, and all really that you are left with is the relationships that you make. I love him dearly.”

Scott and Mescal were also both notable on the red carpet for being extraordinarily well dressed. Scott loves fashion and has a big, well-organised wardrobe that he admits is in need of a cull. “I don’t like having too much stuff. I really believe that everything we have is borrowed — our stuff, our houses, we are borrowing it for a time. So I am trying to think of people who are the same size as me so I can give some of it away, and that’s a great thing to be able to do.” One of his favourite labels is Simone Rocha. “I love a bit of Simone Rocha. What a kind, glorious person she is. I just went to her show.” Fashion, he says, is in his DNA. “My mother was an art teacher, she was obsessed with all sorts of design. She loved jewellery and jewellery design. Anything that is visual, tactile, painting, drawing, is a big passion of mine, so I have tremendous respect for the creativity of designers.”

Today Scott is wearing Louis Vuitton trousers and a cropped Prada jacket, dressed up because he is collecting his Critics’ Circle award for best stage actor for Vanya. I ask how it feels to have won the double, a historic achievement. “Ah …” he says, looking at the table, going silent, having just been so voluble. “I’m sorry …” His voice cracks a little. “It’s bittersweet.”

At the ceremony Scott dedicated the award to his mother, saying of her “she was the source of practically every joyful thing in my life”. Is it difficult for him to carry on working in the circumstances, I wonder. “Well, you know, you have to — life goes on, you manage it day by day. It’s very recent, but I certainly can say that so much of it is surprising and unique, and there is so much that I will be able to speak about at some point.”

He is looking forward, he says, once promotion for Ripley is over, to taking some time off, going on holiday, going back to Ireland for a bit. He has homes in London and Dublin. To relax he walks his dog, a Boston terrier, dressed down in jeans and a hoodie “like a 12-year-old, skulking around the city” or goes to art galleries on the South Bank — he was considering a career as an artist until he was 17 and got a part in the Irish film Korea. He goes to the gym every day, “not, you know, to get …” he says, flexing his biceps. “More that it’s good for the head.” He is social, likes friends, likes a party. When I ask if he gave up drinking while doing Vanya, which required him to be on stage, alone, every night for almost two hours, he looks horrified. “Oh God, no! Easy tiger! Jesus … Although I didn’t drink much, I did have to look after myself. But we had a room downstairs in the theatre, a little buzzy bar, because otherwise I wouldn’t see anybody, so I was delighted to have people come down.”

Scott was formerly in a relationship with the screenwriter and playwright Stephen Beresford and is currently single, although this is not the sort of thing he likes to talk about. He is protective of his privacy, not wanting to reveal where he lives in London, or indeed the name of his dog — but he swerves such questions with a gentle good humour.

He is famous on set for being friendly and welcoming, for looking after other people. “The product is very important, but most of my time is spent in the process, so I want that to be as pleasant and kind as possible. I feel like it is possible to do that, that it is an honourable goal.” He is comfortable around people, with an easy charm — no one I have interviewed before has said my name so many times. And although when we talk he sometimes seems reflective or so very sad, there are also moments when he is exuberant, silly, putting on accents. “I feel like, as a person, I am quite near my emotions. I cry easily and I laugh easily, and there is nothing more pleasurable to me than laughing.”

Scott was raised a Catholic and is no longer practising, but says his view about religion is “ever changing — I definitely have a faith in things that cannot be proved”. When he was younger and felt overwhelmed, just before or after an audition, he would go to the Quaker Meeting House in central London and sit in silence, something that made its way into the second series of Fleabag, in which Scott’s priest takes Waller-Bridge’s character to that same meeting house. “It’s just around here,” he says, standing up, looking out of the window at Charing Cross Road. “When Phoebe and I first talked, we met at the Soho Theatre. We talked about love and religion, we walked all around here. And I said, ‘This is a place I go,’ so we called in and there was no one there, so we sat in there and we talked. It was a really magical day.”

Scott says he sees all the different characters that he has played as versions of himself. “It’s like, ‘What would this version of me look like?’ rather than, ‘Oh, I’m going to be somebody else.’ You filter it through you, and you discover more about yourself. I think that is a very lucky thing to be able to do, to find out more about yourself in the short time that we are here.”

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Introducing... 8 am in the (fucking) neighborhood

Papyrus is back with the groceries.

Unfortunately, his Karen neighbor is still mad at him for ruining her perfect white wall.

Alas, Papyrus is in trouble once again! (or not).

You can read it down the line or on AO3:

8 a.m in the neighborhood

Papyrus finally had his groceries. After a long morning that almost felt like an entire year, the house was finally in sight. He took a look at the clock in his car. He had to meet with Undyne at 2 p.m., which meant he would have to leave at precisely 1:38 p.m. to be on time. It would leave him plenty of time to clean the groceries and wait by the door until it was time to leave.

The skeleton turned at the end of the road to park in his alley. Or at least he intended to. Because he had to stop almost immediately.

His two bins were in the middle of the alley again.

Oh no. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Please, please just leave him alone…

A terrible knock on his window made him jump out of his bones. He looked up in disbelief. Here she was once again.

His Karen neighbor.

Papyrus tried to keep his cool. Everyone said he was the most patient monster they had ever met. So he was going to honor them and be patient with her as well. He could do this. He was the Great Papyrus after all!

He forced a smile and rolled down the window.

"DEAR NEIGHBOR, WE MEET AGAIN! IS SOMETHING WRONG?"

"Something wrong? You dare to ask me if something is wrong? You ruined my wall!"

Papyrus turned around. Ah, yes. He almost forgot the amazing crack he made in that horrible perfect clean white house of hers. She was just dramatic. If he closed his eyes hard enough, no one could notice it.

The skeleton rolled his eyes. Where was he? Ah yes, being patient. He was the great Papyrus and according to Tumblr, he was supposed to be nice and always smiling, because cute boys can't be sad or have a bad day. He couldn't betray his Tumblr fans. He needed to stay in his role. Hum… What would his Tumblr fans do in these types of situations?

Oh!

He knew!

"RUINED IS A BIG WORD. YOU COULD EASILY HIDE IT. I SUGGEST YOU PUT A PRIDE FLAG ABOVE IT AS WE ARE IN JUNE, THE PROUDEST MONTH OF ALL!"

Well, for sure, Karen didn't expect that. Her face turned from angry to disgusted very fast. Did he say something wrong?

"You are one of them?"

"THEM?"

"Those people who are identifying to helicopters and wearing pink thongs in the streets. Don't you think you did enough already? You're going to contaminate the children with your… Ideology. We're respectable people in this street, you can't just show your pink string to the children and call that an identity. That's absolutely disgusting."

Papyrus shuts his mouth in a loud bone noise. He took a deep breath, then made a slow turn towards the screen of his phone, hanging to the opposite window of his car.

"DEAR TUMBLR FANS, I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS AS I WILL BE OBLIGED TO USE A LOT OF STRONG WORDS IN THE NEXT FEW SECONDS THAT ARE NOT VERY PAPYRUS AT ALL BUT HOLY FUCK. EXCUSE ME FOR A SECOND."

"Who are you even talking to? Do you hear voices?"

Papyrus forced a huge smile and met her eyes.

"JEEZ LADY, YOU ARE SOMETHING ELSE. I KNEW YOU WERE A RACIST FUCK ALREADY, BUT THAT'S EVEN MORE FUCKED UP SOMEHOW. WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING? DO YOU THINK THIS IS A NORMAL THING TO SAY TO SOMEONE? DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT EDUCATION WHEN YOU HAVE THE LEVEL OF EDUCATION OF AN OYSTER."

She gasped loudly.

"I am not an oyster, you sick asshole!"

"THIS IS NOT THE POINT! YOU COULD BE A MOLLUSK OR A CRUSTACEAN FOR ALL I CARE, THIS DOESN'T CHANGE ANYTHING: YOUR OPINIONS ARE DISGUSTING, HURTFUL, AND DISGRADING. INSTEAD OF BEING JEALOUS OF ME AND MY GROCERIES, WHY WON'T YOU BUY SOME DECENCY TO THE GROCERY STORE? IT'S JUST TWO MINUTES DOWN THE STREET."

"I will talk to your brother about your behavior! If I can't make you realize how wrong you are, maybe he will! I can't believe how immature you are! What a shame for your kind! And gay with all of that! Poor, poor children! What an example you are for them!"

"FIRST OF ALL, I'M NOT GAY BUT ASEXUAL AND AROMANTIC. SECONDLY, I AM AN ADULT AND CAN TALK TO MYSELF. AND LAST…"

"if it can help, i don't identify as a helicopter but i for sure wear bright pink thongs. they're cute." Sans said from the first-floor window, watching the drama show playing in the street. "also, my bro is right. he's not gay. i am though. need something else?"

Karen opened and closed her mouth in shock, like a dying goldfish. She then let out a scream of rage and left, raging. Sans lazily waved goodbye at her as Papyrus, very satisfied, flipped his two middle fingers in her back. Anyway. He still had groceries to clean.

Maybe the day wouldn't be so bad after all.

Fuck Karens.

[fl00mie]

I like to think of Ink as the type to look for beauty in stuff. The type to live in the moment and enjoy everything to its fullest. His weak points may be his inability to not separate himself from happenings that don't involve him, as just as he ends up appreciating the will of people and the stories they tell, he focuses on the "what could be" and "what's supposed to be" of every world which inherently is without his interference, and fails to consider changing their course for a "better" outcome. It's canon he doesn't think of people as real in the same way he is, but I like to hc that he doesn't see himself as real either, not in the same way. All these peoples have canonical stories and world's and he is the outsider who is observing the script. He is not meant to be real or canon to any of the world's he visits. Skfkdkf I'm bad at explaining...

I don't know if he himself gives it all as much thought as I do, but I HC that he thinks of the world and his place in it a bit like ecology. the structure of everything is like an ecosystem, and just as we can't help every single injured deer or stop every predator from hunting it's prey, he doesn't want to intervene in every AU because it's unsustainable stale. The death of the ecosystem is when a story veers off what makes it interesting so much that it becomes uninteresting because of a deus ex machina (which is him).

The other part is I think he thinks of them like art. Everything around him is art and made by an artist. All of these complex scripts are an ecosystem of characters and plots, and interfering is like going to a museum and drawing in the paintings. I HC this is also part of how he observes the ecosystem of universes and that to an extent, he avoids meddling with them because an unfixable ecosystem caused by outside intervention is worse than a bad timeline because a bad timeline continues to exist. An unfixable one that's slowly leading to nowhere gets abandoned. If universes keep getting abandoned he'll die and that's no good!

And he might not remember it but he knows there's no fate worse than being abandoned

(excuse the ramblings of a me. I am unwell ✨💕)

it's interesting to think of him that way considering how he behaves with the rest, honestly i don't feel like anyone knows him well enough to know that kind of things and i love to think about it too x3c the thing about him not feeling the same as everyone else, most likely it's about him not thinking that anyone can reach his capacity for meta-knowledge, in this aspect (forgive me for this) i feel like error might be the one that most resembles him, he's aware of the aus in all their splendor but not of the artists.. xgaster might also fall into this category for obvious reasons

god i love the way you say stuff😭😭 you took the poetic very literally/pos AND IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE ISTG whatever perspective you try to justify him with, he'll always have valid reasons and be directly involved with the well-being of the creators.... and i'm sure he wouldn't be able to put it into words like you did no matter how hard he tried so other characters as an error, nightmare or anyone who does not understand his ideology will never do it if they don't do their part, for this and a thousand other things i love ink as a character inside the multiverse and metaverse❤️‍🩹 it lends himself to too many interpretations that don't seem to be exhausted with the passage of time, i love him so much like you have no idea

[lord-squiggletits]

So what's up with Megatron's sensory panels, anyways?

I know that miner Megatron taking off his helmet to reveal his sunflower petals is kind of a meme, whether it's people going "aww adorable" or just making headcanons about what the purpose of the panels are (usually something sensory related), but I think that's actually put in there as a symbolic moment.

Throughout Megatron: Origin thus far Megatron has killed people either in righteous anger or self-defense, but he clearly is afraid of violence/doesn't see himself as a killer.

The context of that scene of Megatron taking off his helmet is that he's in the arena fighting his first(?) opponent and wavering when it comes to the killing blow. There's like, a solid two pages dedicated to Megatron being unwilling to kill the other gladiator, and another two dedicated to Megatron's reaction after doing so, so it's clearly a pivotal moment. Hell, the panels of Megatron hesitating literally show him having trauma-type flashbacks to his first kills. His face is in shadow as he looks around at the announcer and the crowd, showing his emotional closed-off-ness.

Throughout this is interspersed so many panels of the crowd, the proctor, everyone screaming for Megatron to kill the other gladiator, and then screaming and cheering even more once he finally goes through with it, which is when Megatron takes off his helmet and shows the sensory panels.

This might be stupidly obvious and not really worth pointing out, but I want to offer some praise and interpretation of the way these pages were laid out to both 1. symbolize Megatron's emotional state and 2. be static, unmoving images that represent what would be a pan or zoom shot if M:O were a movie.

During these three panels, there's a ray of light shining on Megatron that gets brighter and brighter as he fully removes his helmet. Symbolically, light is associated with clarity of mind and discovery (there's literally a word called "enlightenment"), implying that at this moment Megatron is coming to some sort of realization or shift in thinking. He's simultaneously taking off his helmet in this moment as well-- a piece of armor for humans, but a literal part of his body for a Cybertronian-- which presents a form of vulnerability. It also invokes the image of a warrior taking off their helmet after a battle in order to see the aftermath better, which again fits with this visual symbolism of light as mental/emotional clarity.

Additionally, light has an association with moral goodness and purity, which in this scene acts as a form of irony: Megatron just killed another person for the entertainment of an apathetic crowd, while feeling sick and hesitating over the act of violence, and yet a beam of light shines on him. A contrast of evil versus innocence-- or, perhaps, a reversal of the symbolic meaning of light, since this marks the moment that Megatron begins his descent into violent ideology and tyrannical, a view which Megatron believes makes him heroic and right and thus on the side of "light" (as in good).

The last page of this moment is a full page vertical spread in which images of the cheering crowd dominates the top and sides. If this were a movie, the camera would essentially be at the top of the arena stands and sweeping all the way down to the bottom, giving us an all-encompassing view. We are seeing the entire arena, and what is the entire arena doing?

Cheering. Cheering for violence. Praising Megatron for the act of killing another person for entertainment, glory, and personal gain. Not only is this what we're seeing as viewers, it's also what Megatron would be seeing as he stood in the center of the arena.

In the midst of this celebration, Megatron is expressionless, with his eyes shadowed, and he's looking downwards, at the corpse of the person he just killed.

In comics/sequential art, the larger a panel is on the page, or alternatively, the more panels a single sequence of action takes, this is meant to represent a slow and lingering camera shot. Essentially, this was drawn as a 5 panel sequence of a very slow zoom in on Megatron's face because we're meant to linger on this image. Because it's demonstrating a pivotal change in Megatron's mental/emotional state and how he views the world.

Although there's not as much focus on lighting during this sequence as there was with the rays of light shining on Megatron as he took his helmet off, we can see the background around Megatron darkening slightly, and as the panel zooms in, Megatron becomes more and more claustrophobic and boxed in. Finally the sequence ends in darkness lit by nothing but Megatron's blazing eyes.

So we began this sequence with Megatron taking off his helmet with light shining upon him (symbolizing vulnerability, enlightenment, clarity, revelation), and end it with Megatron putting his helmet back on as darkness boxes him in and leaves nothing but the glare of his eyes into the darkness-- a literal descent into darkness to go along with the moral descent, alongside Megatron putting his armor back on which shows him raising his defenses both physically and mentally.

So what are those panels underneath Megatron's helmet for, anyways?

Pretty much to add to the visual symbolism of this moment that represents Megatron's face-heel turn and descent into villainy, honestly. 😂

Though for me personally, I like to imagine that those panels under his helmet are indeed sensory panels, and by taking off his helmet, Megatron was able to hear the entire arena more clearly. And in my headcanon, the reason he was trying so hard to hear the entire arena is because he was searching for anyone at all who was appalled by the violence on display... and he heard no one.

Maybe things would've gone differently if Megatron had listened to the audience and found even one voice condemning it, or expressing the same emotion Megatron felt in the moments before and after killing someone: what have I done? What's wrong with me? Why is everyone cheering on this senseless death?

[rathologic]

Eva and yulia? Also Daniil and Eva? I could never tell if Daniil is meant to like Eva 😞

OKAY SORRY THIS WAS DELAYED...

eva/yulia: mostly I'm just glad to have a canon wlw relationship in the game :-) I don't have a ton to say about it as an ongoing pairing, but what really gets me about yulia in general is her fatalism as a response to losing things that she honestly could probably have fixed with a little personal effort (see also: LARA), c.f. her Humble trait being hypocrisy. her ability to cope with eva's loss is exactly what yulia's optimized herself to do and exactly the type of Misery that I find compelling in a pairing so... heehee... although the vast majority of evayulia content is them having a much deserved nice time together and not that

daniil/eva: Honestly, I don't think it matters if dankovsky is "meant" to like eva romantically; it's a compelling piece of writing either way! I like to think he does care a lot, since that makes his failure to pay attention to her as a person / grasp the Utopian building/death situation / save anyone resonate harder. on the other hand, also fun to see it as "dankovsky's lack of interest in human connection is making his and the people around him's lives worse." ALSO very fun to consider all of the ending options where he knowingly throws her sacrifice away, like, after meeting her actual ghost. how's your quest to defeat death being superseded by an obsession with the magic of the utopian ideology going pretty good it doesn't seem. adding feelings back into that mix is more fun though :^) and we have eva's canon interest in him relating to her death in a way that's fascinating to dig into with taking unrequited love as generosity (real unrequited love fans know)

[talenlee]

Dealing with My Dad

Okay, I write about fundie stuff, right? And time to time, I will wind up mentioning that my dad is a fundamentalist Christian and has beliefs like climate denial and supernatural demonic possession. With the coming of Christmas, and a greater period of socialisation with families, it’s that time of year when this kind of story circulates around: ‘Oh boy, dad’s going to do X.’

Well.

What about my dad?

Content Warning: I’m going to talk about my relationship to my dad and it’s going to possibly be a bit of a bummer. Also, if you’re the weirdo trying to stalk my blog to build a case of lies about that guy, you’re not going to find anything interesting. Really, this is going to make me look bad, not him.

Alright, so my dad is an older, conservative Christian who believes in some things that I think are conspiracy theories, like Velikovskian Catastrophe. He does reject modern arkaeology, but not because he thinks that the Biblical flood story didn’t literally happen six thousand years ago, but rather because he thinks God would have hidden that important artifact to prevent it from being an item of political power in our world. My father once extolled to me how amazing the Flood must have been in that it has successfully obliterated every sign it ever happened, something that shows the absolute power of god’s decision to wipe out history.

I don’t tend to fight with my father.

We have had conflicts; certainly since I left the house. We have largely been limited to a few moments where it became evident that we weren’t going to have a smooth time around something. But I still try to see my father regularly, and I don’t try to avoid him. This is because I like my father. It is a a complex relationship, where my father is someone I care about and also do not have a strong social bond to. It is a complex and frustrating way to be where I do not wish harm on him and recognise the ways he has improved as a person but also know there are things that he will do socially I dislike a great deal.

How then to handle this.

How do I square the problem with him institutionally as a person in a place of prominence in his church with my personal opinion about that entire organisation?

A long time ago I asked dad a hypothetically question about how he would feel about knowing that a member of his church that he was teaching was an atheist. He was someone who grew up in the church, who had a deep love of the Biblical text and the experience of church, concurred with the church on moral frameworks and behaviours, but simply did not believe in the existence of a God. This is an interesting question, to me, to pose to a religious leader type because it seems to me that hypothetically at least a person should care a great deal about why someone is at a place that is meant to be built around an ideology like a church is. My father’s stance was, not quite instant; he thought about it a moment, and then explained that he would be glad to have them, and would much rather they be there in his church than not.

His argument was that he couldn’t see into anyone’s hearts; he couldn’t verify what someone thought about the faith. What he could do was engage the community, encourage behaviours and exclude people based on what they were doing. If this person wasn’t disrupting things and get something out of the experience of the church, then he would much rather they be there, because how else was God going to reach them if they were being excluded from things?

It was honestly, a great answer. It was humble, it was honest and it looked at the material realities of the church situation. Even if you believe you have supernatural insight into the mind of god, which, I gotta hold onto, preachers believe they have, you can look at the actual relationships between people before you and decide you’d rather have someone singing along than not just because of how you think they hold to your ideals.

I think about it a lot when I think about how I deal with my dad, because pretty much most of my adult life I’ve been concerned that I treat my dad like a child, or at least, like I am the parent doing my best to encourage good behaviours in someone who doesn’t know better.

For example, in social gatherings, I will sometimes make it my job to keep my dad occupied on something he cares about. I don’t get to have long talks with him often, but being able to sit down with him and ask him specific questions about areas of his expertise give him a chance to engage with it without feeling like he’s the centre of attention. This means there are some topics I keep myself informed on even if I don’t know much, like Formula 1, the council of Nicea, and weird stories out of the Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormons and Seven Day Adventists. Note that these are Very White Topics that are mostly about people who are like himself, meaning that he doesn’t have a lot of reason to veer out of that lane to have opinions on complex ideas.

Similarly, there’s giving my dad opportunities to avoid social experiences. If we have the youngest family members in one spot, and they make noise, I take ’em somewhere and do something to keep ’em entertained. The infamous ‘uncle joe said something awful at dinner’ can be avoided if uncle joe isn’t people’d out by the time the dinner is happening. These kinds of outbursts can be seen as an outcome of stress and unhappiness in intense social situations. If dad can take a break at a social event, then he’s not going to be running low on conversation topics.

Also, and this is important: I have a lot of control over what I bring up and I can keep myself from bringing up stuff that I know will require an argument. And yeah, that means that there are times I won’t specify things about people I’m talking about, I don’t need to make my dad realise he’s hearing a story about a bunch of queers including his son. There are things I don’t need to talk about with my dad, and by choosing to keep some things private, I am able to keep him wanting to be connected to me, such that those normal things that are part of his mind now aren’t going to feel like alien ideas when he encounters the ways I am not what he wants me to be.

Finally, dismiss but don’t engage with conspiracism. He shared a story about bible college teachers being fired for showing their pronouns, where he presented the story that these teachers were fired from a Bible college for ‘not including their pronouns.’ This isn’t the case. The story, which took me a few seconds of checking on my phone, was that the Bible college fired two teachers who included their pronouns in their email signatures, which is especially telling because those teachers’ first names were Shua and Raegan. You wanna call your shot on those pronouns if you’ve never seen those names before? But yeah, dad internalised the story as something that’s literally opposite to the truth. I didn’t pull out my phone and fact-check him on the spot, I just shrugged and said ‘doesn’t sound true,’ and changed the subject.

Does this suck? I mean a little bit. It sucks that dealing with my father is work. But it’s work because I can’t change what’s in his heart or mind or how or why he thinks things, but I can do things to change his behaviour. I don’t think my dad wants to have an argument at a social gathering, but he has attached great value to an organisational social structure that makes him feel like he needs to be prepared to do so. And because of that, it means that my father is a person attached to this thing, this immense thing, that I hate. And I can love him even though he is part of that, and want him to remain connected because of it. I’d rather he have me in his life and remember ‘oh yeah, my leftie hippie commie son is like that, and I don’t hate him, so maybe hating people like that isn’t a hard rule.’

Not saying any of you need to like my dad. It’s not your job. It’s apparently, my job, but I don’t think it’s bad to try and keep these relationships present.

I can maintain a relationship with people who are part of something I find hateful.

It’s how I was raised.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[isokoe]

SILVER DAWN: Iron Steve’s

ABILITY: Physical Power, the strongest physically of the Ore Steve’s

VALUE: Community, Unity, Loyalty

RELIGION: Iron Steve’s aren’t very religious, at least, not anymore, but the religion they do have is that the world was created by Elemental, who moulded the ground and oceans, the skies and underground, every biome was his. The Ore Steve’s were created as Elemental had grown lonely one day, finding that his little world was boring with just animals and nothing else. He used the ore blocks from the underground and moulded them into the first Ore Steve’s. After creating the Ore Steve’s, he was satisfied with his work, and resided into the core of the earth. It is popularly believed that when Elemental rises from the Earth again, it is what is considered judgement day.

When Praying to Elemental for more religious Iron Steve’s, they go on their knees and lean their head forward onto the ground, they must have an offering of Lily Of the Valley’s, Fresh Apples and/or a Azalea sapling to pray as it is believed this is Elemental’s treasured flower, fruit, and tree. After you’re done, throw the offerings into the fire and bow once more and then leave.

CULTURE: Iron Steve’s have a few very special events in their years. One that was commonly shared between Ore Steve’s is the Ore Steve Festival, which originated when racism between Ore’s were very high, and there were a vast majority of Ore’s in land that had prejudice against the Ore’s who chose to stay underground(Obsidian, Amethyst) and those who resided in the ocean(Prismarine). The Ore Steve Festival is meant to commemorate all Ore Steve’s, the lives lost during this period known as the Ore War, and make sure that this type of thing doesn’t happen anymore by promoting harmony regardless of Ore. However there are still some more mild hidden racism that can be seen in certain Ore Steve’s, particularly the older generation. In the festival, Ore Steve’s from all over, every kingdom, come together and share their culture, food, and so on. It’s probably also the only way you may see certain Ore’s, especially Prismarine.

A more Iron Steve pertained festivity is the New Year Celebrations, Iron Steve’s spend their new years counting down together and spending time with the whole community. The Leader and Apprentice arrange games and activities and everyone takes part. There is also shared meals and everything, this is because of how Iron Steve’s value their community a lot, you’re more likely to see two Iron Steve’s than one. Ever. Or well, in the past really…

another Iron Steve culture event is Independence Day, this is because Iron Steve’s used to be colonised. During the time when Ore Steve’s had high racism, there was also colonisation of certain Ore Steve’s. Many Ore Steve’s planned to colonise the Prismarine, Amethyst, or Obsidian. But the Land Ore’s that were colonised are: Gold’s, Coal’s, Iron’s. Lapis Steve’s colonised Gold Steve’s, Redstone Steve’s colonised Coal Steve’s, and Diamond Steve’s colonised Iron Steve’s. The Iron Steve’s fought for their independence and overthrew the Diamond’s which finally signed a treaty to let them go. Emerald’s were pretty much the only ones who remained neutral(though there was still a racial bias)

Iron Steve’s commemorate their independence from the Diamond’s by hosting their own festival, where they have old games Iron’s used to play, mourning of the lives lost for their independence, and the reminder of history for young Iron’s, always to remember that United as one, they would fight for their freedom together as a family. Or well, community.

One of the events is also related to another war, the Iron Civil War. This was when the Withering had first started, prior to this, Iron Steve’s were already having a split between ideologies and views, but when the withering happened, a lot of crops and so on were hit badly, and both sides had different plans. This caused a HUGE civil war, resulting in many lives being lost until finally the treaty was formed, where the two leaders of each side melted a part of the iron in their body briefly, and mould the magma together into what is now known as the Unity Heirloom, something all leaders have to wear. It isn’t necessarily a festival than it is a day of itself. The leader has a speech, many Iron Steve’s spend the day with each other, baking food or gifting is a strong part of this day.

Iron Steve’s more religious holidays however probably have to be Elemental’s Birthday, which is the equivalent of Christmas in there. For the month you cannot eat meat or fish, you must fast at night, and pray everyday. On the day itself, there are masses or get togethers hosted and Lily of The Valleys are decorated everywhere.

all these Culture festivities and events have however unfortunately been stopped and cannot be properly commemorated because of the Skulk. Everyone’s struggling to survive and put food on their plate.

BACKGROUND: Iron Steve’s were hit pretty badly by the skulk. They’re one of the most nutritious types of Ore’s for skulk, because of how their ability is physicality. After the first wave, a thankfully fast evacuation helped save the lives of many and ensured that they didn’t all go extinct. They’re endangered just as most Ore Steve’s are pretty much. They can’t live in fertile land because they lost a lot of the manpower and firepower they needed, and well… physical strength or speed or anything does not help when you’re against a infectious parasitic highly speedy growing plant which has spores that can cause one of the most devastating diseases seen by Ore Steve’s.

Thus they had to try and farm on infertile land even if it isn’t very successful, and actively scouts have to go out. They have a special outfit for scouts going out with full body set armour to prevent infection more. It’s really dangerous. Livestock is considered important, and any crops grown is good. Currently there has been issues with unpredictable and extreme rain downpour, ranging from heavy to pretty much nothing in an instant. Another factor is how Iron Steve’s are an ageing population, same as every Ore. Their leader has been the leader for generations, he’s already suited to retire to a Elder but he can’t. So his apprentice though relatively young is getting ready to take over. Rationing is getting pretty bad too.

Agsshaha I would say more but… sillies…. GRAHHH, thank you if you made it this far for coming to my Ted talk ramble /pos, hope you enjoyed!!!

[bestworstcase]

So I know that "GoL=final boss" is a predominant theory around this corner of the fandom. But admittedly I'm having a bit of trouble wrapping my head around them actually fighting one of the Brothers, especially considering that the last time they tried to fight the Brothers head on, GoD wiped the entire army (and the rest of humanity) in a single blast. And assuming Salem's main goal from the onset is to kill the God of Light, how is she (and RWBY for that matter) meant to go about it?

oh, good, this is something i've been meaning to talk about

because as the fandom has begun to, um, notice that the god of light is not actually the benevolent adjudicator he pretends to be, the idea that the god of light (or the brothers) might be the "final boss" is circulating around more and i keep seeing this sort of objection raised by specifically the handful of other serious analytical types:

"maybe, but the story is built on the conflict between ozma and salem, and the gods are not very interesting, and they're too powerful to fight, so probably not."

and i find this rather baffling because all of this seems very obvious to me, but on the other hand, the sentiment is self-explanatory in a way. i have never seen somebody who thinks this express the idea without including some variant of "i find the brothers a little boring" and what this tells me is that they only consider the gods in relation to salem and ozma's backstory, thinking about them as little more than plot devices used to set up salem and ozma as the main villain and her adversary.

but i don't think that's what the gods are in this story—otherwise there would have been no need for the kids to learn about where the brothers came from before they made remnant. the brothers matter because the conflict between salem and ozma is religious in nature. the plot of rwby is a religious war.

maybe this only seems obvious to me because i think religion in fantasy is interesting in general and i read a lot of epics and folk stories. i don't know. the important thing is that the brothers are gods.

not "all-powerful characters who serve as occasional plot devices but are otherwise distant from the narrative," which is what most people in fandom tend to mean when they say "god." the brothers are gods, beings regarded as divine and worshipped by some of the characters.

divinity is a social construct.

i find the brothers to be interesting characters in their own right, but as gods their function in the narrative, along with the god of animals (who isn't real!) and the blacksmith, is to embody the religious beliefs and ideological stances that define the conflict between salem and ozma. as gods, these characters are expressions of what the important characters believe in.

this is the idea the god of light represents: "humans are pitiable shells of what they once were and need the brothers to make them whole again, but first they need to repent and cleanse themselves of what salem did. if they don't, they deserve annihilation."

this is the idea the god of darkness represents: "creations should not be condemned for the mistakes of their creators, and the god of light's rules benefit no one but himself."

this is the idea the god of animals represents: "humans are remarkable, but it's important to keep an open mind, accept change, embrace diversity, and be true to yourself; otherwise, you will become small-minded, afraid, and hateful, and that will make you cruel."

and this is the idea the blacksmith represents: "balance is not two forces locked in never-ending conflict, but a living breathing thing that grows and changes organically. it can't be created, or restored by force or calculation; it can only be found."

one of these is not like the others.

ozma is dedicated to his mandate, given to him by the god of light, and because the huntsmen academies are a religious institution whose guiding purpose is to safeguard the divine relics until such time as humanity is "united," the main cast of huntresses and huntsmen and their allies are all ultimately serving the god of light.

in the ever after, RWBYJ meet the blacksmith, who tells them a story about the brothers and shares her philosophical beliefs with them. they discover a new perspective.

salem rejected ozma's mandate at once, by quoting a myth about the god of animals ("descendants [of those humans who rejected the change and freedom offered to them by the god of animals] resent [faunus] because we remind them of what they are not and what they never can be" / "why redeem these humans [on behalf of the brothers] when we can replace them [the brothers] with what they could never be?")—after quite literally millions of years believing that humanity can, and should, overthrow the divine order.

so the central narrative conflict is between salem and ozma, but what that conflict is about is whether the god of light's view of humankind is correct. ozma either believes that it is or believes that resisting him is futile; salem believes that the god of light is both wrong and possible to defeat, or at least ignore.

(i think there is a not-insignificant possibility that her Plan A is to destroy the relics, making it impossible to ever invite the brothers back to remnant, but that the presence of the spirits inside the relics will prohibit that. "none of that matters anymore!" and all.)

and, in the most recent volume, we learned that the god of light is a very broken character who has lost his way and desperately needs to heal. the god of darkness probably does not exist anymore (i am almost certain he returned to the tree and ascended), so light has no one to guide him back home. he is also not immortal, just ageless.

here is what the narrative is setting up:

salem is going to win—and her victory is also the god of light's defeat, because she wins by persuading ozma, and everyone else, to join her in rejecting the genocidal ideology underpinning the divine mandate and thus refusing the mandate itself. the only way to win is not to play. she herself will have to change first, by relinquishing her many layers of emotional armor and allowing herself to be vulnerable and honest again, and her opponents will also have to change how they see her, as a real person instead of a fairytale monster. this is the core narrative arc.

then, they will need to make a decision regarding the god of light. the relics can be scattered or destroyed to prevent the day of judgment from ever coming to pass, or they can try to send the god of light back home to the tree. the former is safer, perhaps, but… rwby is a story about trying to save everyone. "sometimes it's worth it all to risk it all and fight for every life." right? confronting the god of light will not even be an option until everyone is on the same page about refusing the mandate, and by that point the conflict is over. they could simply get rid of the relics and carry on with their lives and never think about the god of light again. the only reason to summon him is for his sake.

will any of them want to help him? no.

is it the right thing to do? yes.

i think dealing with him will turn out to be very simple, because the god of darkness is gone and the god of light said that both he and his brother would return to judge humanity. by his own word, he does not have the right to judge humanity alone—and while he may bend his rules, he will not break them. if he returns to find humans and faunus united in opposition to him with salem, he returns to a world that does not belong to him or have any need of him and falls into a trap of his own making.

this will be enough to give him pause. they can try to talk him down, but given that he embodies the fear of change i think they will fail and he will lash out—not with magic, though. what did light do to jabber and to salem to punish them? he lunged and bit or slashed them with his claws.

beware the jabberwock, my son! the jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

<- in the poem 'jabberwocky,' the boy searches for the jabberwock a "long time," then stops to rest under the tumtum tree. there, the jabberwock finds him—and he rather unceremoniously cuts off its head:

one, two! one, two! and through and through the vorpal blade went snicker-snack he left it dead, and with its head he went galumphing back.

(incidently, the jabberwalker is not the jabberwock—he's jabberwocky, the poem, and also a bandersnatch.)

anyway, i think light is going to lose his temper and lunge at salem, and someone (probably ruby) will chop off his head with the sword of destruction when he does. then a smaller, more vulnerable part of him will be exposed (think the curious cat after team rwby slay the "furious" form) and they will talk to him again and send him home.

the fights against cordovin in V6 and the cat in V9 directly foreshadow the shape of this confrontation with the god of light. there is no victory in strength: they won't overpower him, he will resort to violence and that will be his undoing. (remember how ruby cut off tyrian's tail after tyrian reached past her to sting her uncle? yeah.) and then, with his power broken, he'll have a choice to change or not change.

[ludiharambasha]

Hey! So I saw your anti atla posts. I was intrigued.

I have to ask, how would have liked the show to go about Zuko? How to handle him and his plot and arc? And what do you think about him as a character in general?

Hi, sorry that it took me so long to answer this ask, and this is sadly because I am not sure I am able to provide a satisfactory answer. (This is going to be very long). I will try to approach this from several angles.

In short, Zuko's entire conception is one I have a problem with. Zuko is not a character the writers tried to do something with and failed or wrote in a confusing, messy way that could be bettered with some tweaks- Zuko is exactly what the authors of AtLA wanted him to be, and it is their artistic vision that I have a (and at the same time don't- this will be clear to you as you read on) problem with. Not just Zuko, but Iroh as well, and I think this character arc stems from the privileged background of the authors, and a larger context of Western popular art, something I discussed in greater depth when I wrote a couple of posts about The Hunger Games.

Now, there are three angles I read Zuko and his redemption arc from:

1. Redemption arcs generally being indicative of poor or mediocre story-telling;

2. Zuko as a Western, colonial fantasy;

3. Zuko as a character in media intended for children.

I think this is the most organized way I can argument my feelings and thoughts about him as a character.

1.

It was fairly obvious that Zuko was a character fallen from grace that will see glory by the end of the story. From the moment he first graced the screen, it was apparent that he would go through a redemption arc, and that his character was all about that. There are some blogs that I will add here that might have a lot more to say on the issue (I will tag them in an edited version of this post if they would be ok with me tagging them), but redemption arcs are indicative of, at best, juvenile, at worst, flat out bad writing. Redemption arcs are really fine in children's literature because of their didactic nature, but in writing intended for older audiences they should not be treated seriously.

Art really isn't about instilling morals into the audience - art is supposed to make the readers'/observers' ideological, sensory and moral world challenged in interaction with it - art presupposes the already existing morality of the one interacting with it, not a blank slate onto which the art is supposed to leave an imprint. This notion that art is about didactics is a very outdated, passée idea that resurfaces every now and then, usually in think-of-the-youths type of discourse. Art is the fruit of the author's sensory, ideistic and moral world, and innately expresses something about the auhor and the world as they percieve it-it is not meant to indoctrinate or instill something, but to provide someone's perspective on a phenomenon or idea. This does not mean that art cannot be evaluated because it is personal; its merit is decided through analysys, usually of theme(s), characters, motifs, etc., of their quality, inventiveness, coherence, and so on. It is a delicate matter and not all critics agree on every work; moreover, there are different schools of methodology of the analysis of literary works; they do not agree on many things. There are good resources on the internet where you can find more info on lenses, approaches, etc.

I cannot say that evey literary lens or critical approach condemns redemption arcs (some classics with this arc include A Christmas Carol); however, there are two very good reasons to be vary of them in fiction. A) they are moralistic, and b) they are predictable, and these two reasons are somewhat intertwined.

I've already said quite a lot about didactics and moralizing in fiction earlier, so now I will try to focus on why this impacts characterization poorly and give more focus to reason b). When I say predictable, I mean that the character that this character arc goes along traditional lines of a certain archetype, and never once goes beyond them or manages to state anything new about the convention itself or break out of its confines. Zuko starts as a prince fallen from grace and ends up as the new Firelord- there is nothing in his story that even once nods to the fact that anything else was going to happen (him failing to redeem himself in book 2, only to then be consumed by guilt and finally be redeemed for realz is also an incredibly common pattern). There is nothing transgressive or challenging to constructing a character like this. There is no profound idea that Zuko brings forward with his presence in the story. How can someone genuinely say that writing a character that has been written a MILLION times before in the EXACT SAME way to be good? We laud stories that say something; creating a character like Zuko is akin to butting into a conversation, not because you genuinely have something to say, but just to hear yourself speak. Redemption arcs are the death of character- if we know where the character arc is going to go, the readers' perspective is not challenged. It is failure to tell a unique, authentic story.

Redemption arcs are enjoyed because they deal with a commmon fantasy that we CAN do better and be better, eventually. Very few follow up on this and become better people, but reading about people that do sure is reassuring. This creates this self-righteous feeling in the reader for aligning with the right cause. This has a very clear moral and instructive tone - do better. When art is made to instill values is when the art ceases to be creative. This does not mean that art is and should be devoid of morality; on the contrary, art is meant to engage your morality through self reflection. When you read about deplorable characters doing deplorable things, there is no need for the narrator to outright say 'this bad' - how you feel about actions of the characters is inherently a moral excercise. (Why should anyone celebrate art that insults the readers' intelligence and their ability to make moral judgements?)

At the heart of redemption arcs is that they are digestible, easily understood, and reaffirm the goodness of the reader. It is the most simple, juvenile type of writing there is.

2.

There is a reason why Zuko's redemption arc (and many others of the like) have a particularly strong appeal - they are reassuring to white, Western readers. They play into another, more disturbing fantasy - the sins of one's colonial past can be undone, forgiven and forgotten. If a prince of an empire that committed genocides, military occupations, and so on (there is a very long list of the crimes the Fire Nation committed), can be redeemed and become better and help the oppressed people, then so can they (they won't, and don't really intend to, but the fictional realization is enough!). There is also a reason why the fucking beach episode is beloved in AtLA fandom- it goes through the motions of 'humanising the Fire Nation' and showing them full of just some random, 'normal' kids that just live normal lives (in the eyes of the 1st worlders). It is the ultimate justification of white Western conformity, ignoring how this conformity keeps oppressive, violent systems running. Aang's culture being wiped off the face of the Earth, showing us the torture Hama went through, seeing Katara never find peace about her mother being killed by a Fire Nation soldier, never getting to see Jet get justice for the murder of his parents, all the environmental damage the Fire Nation caused is extended as much or less sympathy than privileged kids from the Fire Nation. Let that sink in. Zuko is just the most glaringly obvious realization of this motif.

Zuko's redemption arc is reflective of Westerner's feelings about colonialism and racism. This guilt is something that is part of them, as one has to be painfully stupid to be oblivious to their nations' pasts- everything around them reflects their vile history. They either choose to double down on this fact and percieve themselves as victors and their past as full of glory, others have trouble dealing with the gravity of these facts. And Zuko's moral dilemmas, his failures reflect this "revelation" and (surface-level) abhorrence towards imperialism. And it reflects a more awful truth, that these people seldom truly recognise the true implications of their own involvement in these systems - they often see colonialism as these sins of the past and systems divorced from their own involvement, and not the sins of both the past and present they actively contribute to - and Zuko also realises the faults of the Fire nation not based on what he personally did or has seen with his own eyes; he truly starts to recognise the evils of the Fire Nation when confronted with his past and his lineage. It is not the institution of the Fire Lord and the immense power it carries that has led to these heinous crimes, or the militarism- it is particular people that need to be brought down. Zuko, despite being a war criminal just like his father and sister, is absolved of what he did de facto. Just like the primary audience of AtLA would like to be.

Another thing to note, one that is not analytic but entirely subjective on my part, is that I cannot brush off the feeling that Zuko's redemption is more strongly motivated by Zuko's feelings of inadeqacy, rather than a developed sense of justice (this one is more up to interpretation, as there is proof n the story for and against this assertion).

3.

Redemption arcs and Zuko I don't have a problem with if we are looking at AtLA through the lens of mediocre standard children's media. Children's media should be didactic, because children learn a lot from engaging with the environment, and media is a particularly influential one. A child will not be capable of detecting all the implications of AtLA as a narrative - for them, it is enough to see a simple character like Zuko. I just cannot stand it when people delude themselves into believing he is written well, he's average at best.

That is all I have to say on the matter, for now. Thank you for your question. Take care.

[woodsfae]

B5 s04e04 Falling Towards Apotheosis previous episode - table of contents 

I had to look up what Apotheosis meant, having only been able to draw up the vague idea of one of itstwo definitions: the highest point smething can reach. And the other, glorifying something, or someone, to the point of godhood. 

Hm, god Sheridan or god Valen?? Surely Valen became a sort of demi-god to the Minbari. Probably Sheridan? But it would be cool to see Sinclair one more time. 

Ivanova updates us on the situation via an emergency broadcast to B5. That's clever, I like that as a method of exposition/don't forget where the plot is. 

Wow, Sheridan parting the stampeding masses just by walking through. Also lol at the 90s fear of trampling. Looks like some early stage apotheosis alright. 

the credits: "The year is 2261 [...]" Partner: "If this doesn't actually happen in 2261 I'm going to be so pissed." 

Personally, I would not.

Garibaldi is suspicious of and investigating a god. Lorien is pretty strange and a very random, new element without much explanation. 

And he's having a weird time. As he says, the captain disappeared for even longer, and just says he's back from the dead and everyone's fine with him running things. But Garibaldi comes back and gets closely monitored and not allowed to return to work without multiple medical examinations despite being seemingly fine.

Well. He's wrong because he is compromised, but yeah, they also have no way of knowing that the captain isn't. More of that being venerated by the people, clearly. 

Sheridan better not get a swelled head over it, is all I'm saying. If he doesn't take his ascension with an aw shucks then is he really a wholesome side of corn-fed Iowa beef? 

Morden's still fucked up. And he's dictating defense policy on Centauri, while Cartagia blithely agrees. 

Cartagia has another secret room which I assume witll be as fucked up as his secret torture-murder chamber.  

Aaaand it is. He has a secret council where he sits in a room with the corpses of deceased members of court. Lovely. A very sane sort of thing to do, to keep oneself grounded. 

A very sane plan, Cartagia. I commend you on the whole "become a god by being the person who caused the end of Centauri while dying too" is a normal thing to want and possible to achieve.  Very unfortunately possible to achieve. And lowkey destined. 

Living the trainwreck he willfully set into motion would be satisfying if it wasn't so horrible and tragic and wide-reaching in scope and loss of life. 

Garibaldi is most likely clean of Vorlon technology impanted in him. But sadly he cannot, or does not, test if he has a secret personality implanted in him by psicorps. 

The Vorlons are going fucking murder-serious, wiping out planets, colonies, and ships. 

I suddenly wish I paid more attention to the types of clothes and colors of clothes that Delenn wears. Her red and blue outfit is vivid, and I feel like I recognize it, and she's worn it before. 

Cute Delenn and John. The sweeping romance feels well earned, and solidly set up, and the actors have really good chemistry. 

Ah! They finally mentions not-Kosh. He's still here. Sheridan wants him gone. 

Lyta! And she's here to help carry out Sheridan's plan to kill not-Kosh! Presumably while Garibaldi is off trying to kick him out without knowing about his plan as not to betray it telepathically. 

Another planet down. With all this destruction the Shadows have certainly won ideologically already. 

Y'know, I don't remember Sheridan saying "force him to leave," but Garibaldi apparently heard "fire guns at him a lot till he kicks your asses." Like, I didn't get the sense that was Sheridan's order. Luckily, no-Kosh didn't kill any of them. 

Sheridan shares information about when the Vorlons might arrive at Centauri Prime freely when Londo asks. 

Operation: Kill A God is underway. Lyta lures him out, with the fragment of Kosh that is/was in Sheridan. I don't know if the fragment of Kosh passed on when Sheridan died or not. 

not-Kosh walks into a trap of an electrical field and a couple dozen soldiers firing plasma guns. 

Although they succeed in discorporating the Vorlon, it still isn't down! 

Ah, it seems that the Kosh fragment survived! It, and a bit of Lorien, join the discorporated Vorlon, and reverberate outwards like ripples on water till they joined the Vorlon ship and exploded. Wow, Kosh literally turning on the Vorlons that are massacring in his name. At least we know Kosh didn't approve of it! Not all Vorlons :P

Londo's assassination plan is to lure Cartagia out to Narn, to have a trial for and "execute" G'Kar on his homeworld. 

John Sheridan is going to die young becase he died already, and Lorien could only give him so much biochemical energy, Yeah, younger death, but like the mildest of death sentences. That would be pretty rough as a member of a long-lived species! Counting on sixty years or more with John and already knowing you'll outlive him by a lot would make the loss of that sixty years pretty heartbreaking. 

Awwww they're being cute again. Sheridan and Delenn are engaged. I wonder what the Minbari custom is - or was that the three nights of sleeping that was interupted by puppet!Anna?

Cartagia is having G'Kar's eye "plucked out" fuck man. That's so augh. C'mon. If he must lose an eye have it be in a fight, it's just overwhelmingly negative. No one else is getting this. 

Also a bummer point to have the episode end on! It does build a sort of dread fascination though. What horrible thing is going to happen to G'Kar next episode. 

onwards!