#i don't understand this. if you want to disagree with me come to my replies and fight don't be a coward and reblog and disagree in the tags

[bigbstatz]

"nice post but i disagree with everything you just said" why are you reblogging my post then if you think i'm wrong, you big clown

[melminli]

Dirty Cash (Money Talks)

summary - you had nothing against your colleague, but you weren't stupid enough to be fooled by his innocent smile and appearance since you knew exactly what kind of corrupt person was hiding behind that costume. after all, you were wearing the same one.

pairing: (gong yoo/ji-cheol) the salesman x fem. recruiter reader

word count: 1.4k

contains: talk about gambling + death and murder, sexual tension?, crack and just evil morals tbh

a/n: i watched maybe the first fifteen minutes or so of bullet train, but i thought of the two funny dudes from it while writing this bcuz their dynamic was funny af. also, i will use the actor's name in this fic since the character itself doesn't really have an official one that was mentioned in the series!

You straightened your tie with your free hand while watching your train approach from the side. The station was always pretty empty at this hour, which saved you the jostling and squeezing as you entered. After that, you sat down comfortably with a light sigh - next to the free seat beside your devilishly handsome colleague. “Are you alright? Don't tell me that you had a exhausting day?” he asked you worriedly with his typical innocent smile on his face but you've known the guy for a while now and you knew exactly how dishonest he sounded right now.

You returned his gaze for a second, uninterested, before turning it back in front of you to observe your surroundings from the window. “Exhausting day? Don't make fun of me or I'll punch you in the face,” you replied monotone and Gong Yoo didn't doubt your statement for a second - or Ji-cheol as you preferred to call him since you weren't a big fan of nicknames. “I had a great time punching those bastards in the face one by one. It feels kinda therapeutic, so I'm actually feeling pretty good right now,” you told him, talking about the subject as if you were talking about the weather.

Your colleague grunted with delight at your good news. “And I would never disagree with you on that.” he said and then just watched your figure silently for a while before speaking up again. “Since you're in such a good mood, would you be willing to play a more private game between the two of us?” he suggested, making you look at him in utter disbelief.

“A private game? With you?” you repeated, amused and laughed in his face. “Hell, no. But don't worry, I'll let you know next time I want to get totally screwed by a freaky pervert,” you added, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Which will be, never.

“Come on, don't be like that,” he asked you sweetly. As sweet as the wolf who pretended to be the mother of the seven little goats before he ate them all one by one. “It's just a tiny, harmless game. It's been so long since we've played anything together.” he complained to you earnestly as if you actually cared, and you didn't.

Yeah, you remembered the last time very clearly, even if you would much rather prefer that you didn't. You hummed. “Is that so? Huh. I mean, it could be because you almost killed me in a fucking game of tic-tac-toe the last time, but that's just a theory.” You said with a shrug, clearly still resenting him for that. However, he just rolled his eyes unaffected by your grudge. “But you didn't, right? It was the other guy who got the bullet in his head.” He replied, not even remembering his name. Not that he had to.

You just glared at him while you rubbed your forehead. “Yeah, maybe. But I'm tired of risking my life just because it makes you horny and you can jerk off to it.” You made your feelings on the matter clear. “You know that the whole living on the edge of death thing isn't really my cup of tea. At least try to understand me a bit here, too.”

I suppose she's not entirely wrong, I could give it a try. I never thought about it like that before, did I? He thought to himself in his head as he ran his tongue over the back of his teeth while he pondered. How selfish of me. “So what exactly do I have to do, to convince you?” He asked you while he already had a few ideas in mind.

You grinned. “You know that very well, don't play dumb.” You demanded as you leaned closer to him so that he could hear what you were singing softly. “Money talks, money talks - dirty cash, I want you, and dirty cash, I need you, oh ~”

He raised an eyebrow, not particularly surprised. “So you want to play for money?” He repeated it, not outright rejecting your request. “Don't you have enough of that already? You're really insatiable when it comes to cash and now you want mine, too?” he joked just to get you worked up.

Though, you didn't get the slightest bit offended by what he said. “Can you ever have enough money? Besides, I'm not forcing you to give it to me, am I?” you said with a smile, already knowing that he would agree to your terms. “But if you want me to play with you, I want eight million won for every round I win.”

She's so greedy for someone who is already more than wealthy. “Aren't you exaggerating a bit? Most people don't earn that much in a month,” he continued his act of - whatever this was - because he just loved arguing with you.

“So? We both have the same salary, I know you can afford it,” you said, holding a hand in the air as soon as you felt that he wanted to stretch this unnecessary conversation even more. “You have to decide now what you want to do or I withdraw my proposal again.”

Gong Yoo closed his mouth and started grinning even wider. “You don't even want to know what kind of game I want to play?” he asked curiously, nodding and accepting whatever you wanted as soon as he saw that you actually weren't interested. You couldn't even imagine how gladly he gave in to you at this moment. “All right, I agree with your request.”

You stood up with your briefcase in hand after your station was announced. “Good. Text me when you have something in mind, I'll be there as long as it fits timewise.”

Your colleague continued to watch you with a look on his face that used to make you more than just uncomfortable back in the day - though, it didn't even bother you in the slightest now. “You don't want to accompany me to the...office?”

You smiled while the train started to slow down. “Au revoir, Ji-cheol.” you just said your goodbye to him and stepped out of the doors. You didn't even spare the poor guy a second glance when he waved his hand at you from the window. She can be so heartless sometimes, he thought to himself, even if you were like this pretty much all the time. I'll have to think of something good to ask for in return should I win. I'm definitely not going to hold back when there's this much money at stake.

You didn't give a second thought to anything as you made your way home after a day's work like any normal citizen would do. However, your steps slowed considerably when you noticed a beggar in your field of vision and even though the rest of the crowd ignored the man and his entire existence, you couldn't help but focus your full attention on him. You looked at your watch, I've been off work for a while now. But even then, you couldn't help but notice that he was one of the people on your list to recruit for the game. He'll still be here tomorrow, but I don't mind another round of Ddakji. I love money more than anything - but I'm not doing this job for only that.

“Excuse me,” you spoke to the man with a polite smile on your face, and he only submissively avoided your gaze as he listened to you. After all, one rarely approached people like him and why would they? He held his cup of loose change out in front of him, probably expecting you to give him a small donation, but you wanted to give him so much more than that. Even if the guy didn't know it right now - you wanted to give him another chance in life, so that he wouldn't continue to be just a miserable failure.

You ignored his donation cup. “I was wondering if you might have a moment because I'd like to make you an offer,” you continued politely and the man met your gaze at that. Yeah, you were really looking forward to what was about to happen - after all, you were known for letting your opponent only win if you allowed them to.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Hurt V

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Morsa's operation

Morsa has to have surgery on her foot because she hurt it really, really bad. Bad enough that she's out of the team while she recovers. Bad enough that you have to visit her in hospital.

Momma takes you into her room when Morsa wakes up from her surgery sleep.

"Morsa," You say," You've got Sweden on your foot."

On her bandaged foot is the Swedish flag. You recognise it because Morsa tried to make you learn it before you learnt the Danish one. She failed at that second bit but she did make sure you learnt the flag.

"Yeah," She says," I do have Sweden on my foot."

"Is Sweden making your foot better?"

Morsa laughs a little while Momma puts you up on her bed. "It is."

"You should take a picture," You tell her," So the team can know Sweden's making you better."

"Alright, princesse. I'll take a picture for the girls."

You make sure Morsa takes a lot of pictures to show both the Bayern girls and the Sweden girls so they know she's okay.

The doctors keep coming in all day to check on Morsa and her Sweden foot and you get to watch Morsa get poked and prodded before being taken home by Momma.

Morsa's got to stay in the hospital for another day to check that her Sweden foot isn't going to fall off or anything but she's welcome to come home the next day.

She comes home on crutches, hobbling up the front doorstep before practically melting into the sofa. You bring her a drink and she captures you quickly, tugging you onto the sofa with her before crushing you into a hug.

"Morsa!" You shriek as ticklish kisses attack your face," Stop it!"

"Hey, now," Magda laughs," Don't kick out. I'm injured, remember? You don't want to hurt me more."

"You're doing this on purpose!" You tell her as one of her hands winds around your legs so all you can do is wiggle your body.

"Doing what on purpose? Giving love to my favourite girl?"

"Make Momma your favourite!" You tell her but she doesn't listen, dropping more kisses all over your face as you try to escape.

"Magda," Pernille says reproachfully as she returns from the kitchen," You're still injured. Take it easy."

"I am taking it easy," Magda replies whilst standing and dangling you upside down by your ankles.

"Magda," Pernille says again," Holding our child hostage is not taking it easy."

"I beg to disagree."

"Magda, I mean it. Sit down."

Magda sits down, releasing you as she does so and you hurry off to your toy corner and beanbag chair to catch your breath.

"Have you still got Sweden on your foot?"

Magda pulls off her sock to triumphantly show her Sweden bandage. "I do still have Sweden on my foot!"

"You should put Denmark on your foot."

The grin on Magda's face drops as she stares at you, mouth hanging open. "What?"

"You should put Denmark on your foot," You repeat," Because Momma's from Denmark and she always makes me feel better when I have ouchies."

"Princesse," Magda says," I can't just change it to Denmark. That's like...treason or something."

"Why's it treason?"

"Because...er...Because..."

"Because your Morsa is very silly and takes a rivalry a bit too seriously even at home," Pernille explains to you.

"Oh," You say, nodding in understanding before turning back to Magda," You're very silly, Morsa and you really should put Denmark on your foot because then Momma's Denmark magic can help you."

Magda still looks stricken and Pernille forces herself to cough to cover her laugh.

"That's a very good idea," She says," We've got to change Morsa's bandage anyway. I managed to buy a red bandage. Can you get some of the medical tape?"

"Is it in the ouchy bag?"

"Yep, in the bathroom."

You scamper off and Magda gives Pernille the biggest, wettest puppy eyes she can manage.

It doesn't quite work the same way as when you're doing it.

"Pernille," She says," Please?"

"I don't know. Maybe my fancy Denmark magic will help," Pernille teases just as you come back in with the white medical tape.

"We're making the Denmark flag," You tell Magda as Pernille unwinds the bandage," So you can get better soon."

Magda forces herself not to grind her teeth in annoyance and smile at you instead. "Thank you, princesse."

[a-bright-comet]

Jade Shadows Thoughts

(NOTICE: I have edited this post after a few days and many lovely replies and tags giving me more insight and opinions, overall my view of this quest has gotten a lot more positive, thank you all <3) okaaayyyy I am utterly rattled rn lmao also made the mistake of looking at tumblr after doing the quest and as expected it seems to be a 50/50 of hating or loving it. so here are my personal thoughts, I am a little scared but talk seems to be civil thankfully. I can definitely agree on the sentiment that this quest needed more time, cause let's be honest the people hating this quest wouldn't be jumping to the things they're jumping to if Jade herself got more screen-time before the big drop, warframe's style has always been vague and never 100% straight-forward and I think that unfortunately hurt it a bit this time, as what they didn't show came off wrong to many people and while I sorta see why I disagree on some parts. I also feel like the quest kinda got a bit *too* hyped both by DE and the fanbase's theories, way too short, it deserved and needed to be a bit longer for it's special narrative. Jade kinda got a weird spot, both being the main focus alongside Stalker but also hardly explored. But let's be honest, most of the negativity is caused by this outside-circumstance alone. Now, what I absolutely disagree with is people insisting that DE was trying to say "bodily autonomy bad" or that Stalker didn't care about her and only the child, thing is I thought it was pretty fucking clear that she *wanted* the child in what little was shown and she was going to die no matter the outcome (thanks to the orokin to absolutely no one's surprise) and Stalker in his guilt for all she's done for him wanted to make sure that he at least kept this one promise to Her, cause She wanted it. she still had bodily autonomy in the fact She wanted this, she wanted the child no matter what. and she wanted stalker to protect her and the kid. And he did, like a true loving partner. DE has a long track record of being very autonomy-positive. A point they make time and time again is that ripping it away is *bad* and horrifying, the quest is a bittersweet tragedy, not a horror. Honestly there would be 0 issue if DE had given us a Jade-only quest before this one, I personally would've preferred it as well, she's cool as hell she deserves it. who knows maybe DE will see all of this and make prequel quests? we can only hope. I do not want to assume the worst of anyone or anything cause that's a miserable existence. Look I personally enjoyed the quest and get the feeling whoever wrote it did it out of some personal experience or sorrow, that's at least the vibe I got. It's a tragedy, but her choice was seen till the end, many women choose to still have a child despite knowing they won't make it, many also don't, that's why choice is important. and she did, she chose her child that she was having while likely forcibly infested and turned into a warframe. (also remember there are women on the team who likely looked at this.) there are some other iffy parts of the quest, (really should've been the drifter instead of the operator if they were gonna do that, but that's personal discomfort.) but overall I enjoyed it and open to explore the implications of a born-warframe-child and Stalker healing as they both grow together. These are my thoughts, and I can understand why people like or dislike this quest, but I think it's fine and just ended up in a very unfortunate spot due to outside circumstances beyond it's control. (sorry if any of this comes off as aggressive it is not my intention despite how riled I am by some folk online, I disagree with you but I do not hate you, I don't even know you.)

Her choice, His promise, Their light.

Thank you for reading my first ever text post about something I care about, not sure I'll be doing this again any time soon out of anxiety lol (Edit: and thanks to everyone responding to this post wonderfully, ya'll are great and have lessened my anxiety and have made me appreciate this quest more <3)

[nthspecialll]

Bill Williamson's racism

(If I have worded anything in a wrong way, if I have accidently said something wrong, you disagree or anything similar, please do let me know and educate me, but I ask that you don't do it in a condecending tone and that you refrain from calling me a fool or similar. I do nothing will ill intent and I want to learn but I cannot if you merely insult me.)

I do want to start of by saying that Bill's racism is not excusable, and that he is not doing it for attention or similarly, that he does in fact have racist tendencies, however what I wish to talk about in this post is the differences between his racism and Micah's which shows more neuance and has peaked some, including my own, interest.

The most obvious difference to me between Micah and Bill's racism is how they act around the people of color. Bill praises both of Lenny and Javier. Bill calls Lenny "son" and yells to everyone about how amazing he is and the proud almost fatherly instrict is oozing. With Javier there is a similar interaction where he is drunk and he is yapping Sean's ear off about how amazing Javier is.

We do not see that with Micah (That I can find), the only possitive thing Micah says to either of them is "you aren't so bad, for a (slur)". Another thing to point out is that Micah is constantly belittling both Lenny and Javier, saying things like "you can write and everything, unusual for one of you. Oh you know, hoodlums," Bill does not belittle them, he calls them names but he doesn't belittle them. Is that okay? No, of course not and it is very serious, but it is just something I noticed.

Now when it comes to their actual racist acts, even there we see a difference. When Bill literally throws Lenny, Lenny just chuckles and says "get lost Bill," meanwhile when Micah just talks to Lenny, Lenny is on alert, he is cautious, watchful. He takes Micah seriously, while he does not take Bill seriously.

A native American I talked to about Bill (mentioning their heritage here because Bill often talks down to native Americans), mentioned that they felt Bill was repeating words like a parrot rather than actually understanding and believing them, which I can see.

Bill fought in the army, very specifically against Native Americans. he has a camp interaction where he is talking about the war and he is fucking terrified, he jumps at the sound of a horse neighing after explaining how he saw people die.

He saw people get murdered, he saw his friends get slaughtered and he was told by the army to turn that anger towards the natives. The army implimented racist ideologies to excuse the genocide they were making and to rile their armies. This also correlates to the scene between Bill and Dutch where Bill says "I saw things!" and Dutch replies "I am sure you do! But I don't think you could understand it" and I think that is spot on. Bill saw his friends dying, he saw his comrades dying, people he was likely as close to dying.

All he saw were these people murdering his friends, not that those people were fighting for their right to exist, and for every body hitting the ground the army framed it all on the natives, that it was all their fault, without mentioning anything that the army was doing to the natives.

Does any of this excuse Bill? No, but while I believe that Bill is racist, I think he is racist because he was told to be rather than because he truely believes it like Micah does. Micah seems to fully believe these ideas, that white people are better and that they will never be on the same level as him, none of the POC characters in camp were his friends, meanwhile Bill saw those POC characters as his comerades, as his friends and he kept in touch with Javier for a good while after he lost all the others.

[ratttgay]

waking up to phandom discourse is crazy

anyway i just wanted to add my two cents as a person living in singapore, one of the countries that dan mentioned in his explanation. because i'm seeing a lot of talking from people of other countries like america and not here LOL

i certainly can't speak for hong kong, but i have also lived in indonesia for an extended period of time and having been a queer person in both these countries, i can safely say it is not easy. (i won't talk about indonesia because i don't know much about their legislature but from my personal experience, being there and gay wasn't a walk in the park)

it has gotten better, for sure, but in both countries we are nowhere close to getting basic marriage rights etc. in fact, singapore has only RECENTLY overturned 377A (essentially a bill that made homosexual sex illegal). don't even get me started on trans rights, it's a whole other thing itself. we have extensive censorship in singapore (which, of course, extends to homosexuality and transgenderism), one of the highest in the world.

this is not to say we don't have a flourishing queer landscape in singapore. we have drag shows (RIOT! is a big one), we have pride festivals (pink dot), we have queer artists perform during national day (though their queerness isn't acknowledged. but they are still there, and it's worth mentioning).

both of these truths can coexist. dan is not wrong in saying that the government in singapore is homophobic. it is true.

it's okay to be hurt by what dan said, especially coming from his position as a white man who ultimately lives somewhere with more gay rights than us. both dan and phil make mistakes. it is okay to say that the "no homo" comment was insensitive.

i, however, think it is unreasonable to claim that dan was "stereotyping" asia as anti-gay. he was talking about governments. he meant governments. even in his first reply, he was talking about governments specifically. it was never about asia, or our culture or our people. saying that he is stereotyping is a clear sign of misreading intentions and his message.

i must add that this is a queer issue, and dan has experience with that. though he is not speaking as a person who lives in asia, he is speaking as a queer person being censored. it sucks. it sucks for him, it sucks for all of us. i probably will never be able to see TIT live, but at least i can rest in the fact that it wasn't for lack of trying.

it's something emotional for all us SEA phannies, i guess. but this is for the phannies who don't live in SEA that don't really understand the situation here. as a person who lives here i find the way dan acted reasonable and though phrased insensitively at first, didn't say anything untrue.

again, this is a sad thing. feel free to come into my ask box and talk to me, i'd love to connect with more phannies in SEA!!! and if you disagree with me, then go ahead and reply to this or whatever. but this is just me speaking as a person who lives in singapore. yea

[sombrashe]

hii!

can you pretty please write something for Norm MacLean x reader?

ty, and i love your blog!

content fluff, just so much fluff and a little angst if you squint, childhood friends to lovers, reader is a breeder and its their wedding day, gn!reader, chubby!reader

note(s) hiiiiii :3 im so happy you like my blog!! i hope you enjoy this little but of fluff | i didnt know how to end it so it might seem a little abrupt

"Norm?"

Your voice bounces off the concrete walls and back into your ears. Your heels click with every step, your shoes are nice and shiny for the occasion. He wasn't home, at Chet's, or in the fusion room. A long shared hiding spot. You frown as you turn down yet another hallway. A sea of copy-pasted doors muddle together in your eyes as you huff. Maintaining your peppy smile you grip the bouquet tighter. When you noticed Lucy, but no Norm to accompany her you had to pause everything. A much disagreed decision which led to Overseer MacLain chastising you for your decision. It wasn't a good idea to make Vault 31 wait but you couldn't care less.

"Norman."

Your voice grows in pitch as you backtrack out of the hallway and into an identical one. One furthest from your wedding and who do you find sitting with his back to you? Cleaning the connection line of the vault floor.

"Oh! Norm, there you are."

He doesn't turn back and simply gives you a quick hand raise and a simple, "Busy. Be done soon."

You give a soft giggle and crouch down behind him.

"Norman MacLean. It's rude to ignore the person being married. Especially on their wedding day."

He finally turns at that. Almost as if he just realized who was talking to him. Your smile is unrelenting a stark contrast to the stony expression he gives you in return.

"Well, are you coming?"

You stand and extend your hand only to frown when he simply glances at your palm.

"What's wrong?"

You start to worry as he takes his time replying. You never felt this before, the feeling of your stomach becoming a giant knot. Like all your intestines became worms and got themselves tangled in each other. You did not like this feeling.

"You're making my stomach hurt, Norm. What's going on? You said you would be there when I met my partner."

"I got assigned cleaning duty."

You scoff and roll your eyes, a smile gracing your lips again as if you solved one of the riddles in the vault newspaper.

"It's my wedding day. I'm sure Hank would understand. You're my best friend after all, he would want you to be there with me."

Hands on your hips you can't help but notice as your cheeks start to sting with all this frowning and smiling.

"Best friend. Yeah, okay."

He repeated you again.

"Norman, what's going on? Are you sick?"

Bending over at the waist you place the cool back of your hand to his warm forehead and chew on your bottom lip. He feels fine. So why is he acting like this?

"I'm fine. It's nothing."

He swats your hand away. Using his hands he pushes himself to stand.

"Let's just go."

"No. Not until you tell me what's going on. Why you're acting like this. You've never repeated me twice. You only do that when you're upset. Three times and I would have to call security."

You try to give him a smile and laugh, but he just pushes past you. Hurrying you catch up to him as he goes to turn the corner out of the hallway. Reaching out you're able to grab ahold of his suit before he makes it.

"I don't want you to get married."

His words are rushed and he refuses to look at you. You give a small laugh hoping he was joking. You didn't go through all this... all this moving on just for him to confuse you.

"Norm, you said you were excited when I told you I was chosen."

"I lied."

I lied echoes throughout the corridor. Your grip tightens on his suit as you soak in his words.

"You told me-."

"I lied. About everything. It wasn't just practicing for me. None of it was practice. You need this, I know. Now you know so you can move on. What are you hoping they look like?"

He gives you a false smile and it looks out of place especially with you mimicking his stony expression from before. Dropping your hand you furrow your eyebrows and slam the palm of your hand into his chest.

"You... jerk! All this time I thought you wanted to be just friends. Thought you regretted everything. Fudge, Norm. Why didn't you tell me? I would have never gone to the council and convinced them to let me get married."

He gives you a genuine smile and you want to hit him again. Maybe yell at him some more until he's cupping your cheeks. His eyes are intense as they stare into yours.

"I know how important fulfilling your job is, I would never ruin that for you. I thought it would be easier if I didn't show up."

"That's stupid. You're more important to me than any job. I would be just as fulfilled and happy scrubbing floors."

His eyes search yours. His fingertips press into the soft flesh of your cheeks. You can tell he wants to lean in closer. Do as you always did ever since you were children. You don't give him the chance to back away. Not again. Leaning forward you rest your forehead against his, nose smushes against each other making it difficult to breathe. As if you could breathe clearly given the circumstances.

He takes the initiative this time and closes the minuscule gap between your lips. Years as the Overseers son gave him access to anything he ever wanted and you can tell he uses it to take care of himself.

"Strawberry?"

"They figured out how to make this stick that makes your lips soft and they gave me one to try."

You giggle and kiss his soft sweet lips again and again. Breaking away to smack your lips covered in the foreign flavor. After a good thirty minutes, you hear your name being called from a dot down the hallway.

"Lucy." You whisper as your heart starts to rise and you fear you might throw it up.

Taking your hand he squeezes it tightly before letting it fall beside the fabric of your wedding gear.

"I don't want to get married anymore, Norm. What do I do?"

"We explain to Lucy and see what she has to say. She's the older sister for a reason."

[haechurch]

Its mark lees bday (ystd) and i recalled the fact that mark says hes quite obvious if he liked someone, and the fact that i see him kinda obsessed with butts and all those videos where he groped members cheeks never fails to make me drool..... ah i need him in lyfe fr. Also istj♡

So thats why i made this smut based on those^ happy mark day<3

Your roommate is a famous jock, who is currently not home for celebrating his birthday at some party that throws just for him. Honestly, you didn't know it was his birthday until one of your friends that went there told you so. You're known as someone who doesn't like parties, although surprisingly enough, your mbti says that you're an extrovert, but you always find that you're too lazy to do the stuff.

So you're wondering when this your famous roommate will come home from his party, and think of something you could do for him as it's his birthday. He's home pretty late when he finds you watching spirited away in the living room.

"Hey, i thought you were asleep," he said. You munch on your popcorn and replied as your eyes glued to the tv, "hm, how's your party, birthday boy?" He chuckled and took off his cap, throwing it softly on the couch beside you, and heavily seat across from where you're sitting. He leaned back and spread his legs while his hand brushed his messy hair. "Cool, kinda tiring. Feels like my energy's being sucked," "well, that sound sucks." Both of you chuckled, he's so introvert for that (lol).

"I understand," you hum. "You know," you shifted on your seat, and as mark was clearly aware since he saw you in the living room; dressed so loosely only in your camisole (braless) and short pants, showing him a pose that makes you utterly look fuckable, you blurted out, "...do you have any idea what else that can be sucked at this moment?"

"What?" His tone was confused and he's kinda taken aback by your words.

You swear to god that teasing him is the most fun thing to do in this world. You laugh your ass off and brush him away, saying that you need to take a shower since you haven't done that today. I mean, why take a shower when you're literally at home all day?

"Since it's your birthday, why don't you tell me your wish? Or something that you wanted? Think about it while i'm in the shower." You wink at him playfully as you hopped into your room.

Mark's head is full of thoughts right now. He didn't know he would ask someone for giving him a birthday present, but he knows that he really needs that. He's thinking about it so hard as he cooling his head down in the shower too, until he decided on what he wanted for his birthday, especially from you.

Fyi, you can always hear when mark lee is jerking off in his room (or bathroom) when you're home. Of course, the wall is pretty thin and he's just too loud. So when you finished your quick shower and heard him in the bathroom, you knew exactly what he need the most for his birthday.

Later, you knock on mark's door, asking for permission to barge in. "Can i come in?"

"Uh-uh, yeah, sure," when you entered his room, you saw his hair is already half dry, and he is wearing a tight black t-shirt with shorts.

Holy moly.

Honestly, no one in the world would disagree that mark lee is hot.

You're making a bee line to where he stand beside his desk, and started talking next to him. "Sooo have you decided?" He chuckled nervously and started to act like an idiot. "Decided what?"

You frown an eyebrow, "your wish? You can tell me what you want for your birthday?" You reminded him. "Oh that, yeah, um-"

He placed his hand on his nape and be looking so awkward right now, but that's why you like him.

You bit your lips in amusement. Now it's getting harder to hold back.

You can't take it anymore and lean closer to him. He didn't even budge. "Mark.." you place your hands on his torso, and he slightly flinched at your action. "Tell me.." your hands caressing him down his abs, and stop at his groin. "Your wish." You whispered in his ear, and he swear he was getting goosebumps, his breath hitched when you place your hand on his center and gently cupped his bulge.

"Wait, wait, wait, hold up hold up," he's panicking as he points a pointless finger in the air, and you went crazy because of it. You're definitely a simp for mark lee.

"I-uh, hold up a sec, are you for real?" He's questioning instead.

"What do you mean?" You smiled at him. He's so adorable.

"I mean, why are you... i feel like.. this isn't it-"

"Mark."

"Yeah?"

"Just tell me, please? What do you want right now?"

You glanced at his boner and it's so fucking obvious. God it must be hurt. He has to quit playing dumb and ask for it when he knows he needs it more than anything.

"Fuck, help me with these," he gestured upturned hands right above his legs.

"How, mark? Tell me how do you like it, hm?" He has no idea how you had so much fun teasing him.

He got short-circuited again when you press your body against him and crane your head up, about to kiss him, "wai wh-" he backed off a little and placed his hands on your waist, both eyes finding each other as you hum before slowly close the gap between your lips and kissed him.

A short one. And then your eyes meet again, and he give you another kiss, this time out of his control. He basically pressed his face against yours, hands on your jaw before he put it all over your body and proceed to push you against the wall. You hang on him by grabbing at his nape and head, ruffling his hair into a mess. The kiss never breaks, he kiss you like he mean it, now he pressed his body on yours, and you can feel his big cock, hard as a rock. He's not that silent when kissing too, you can hear his breathy grunts and the fact that he's also a moaner. He tilted his head back and forth to kiss you at different angles, his tongue all over your mouth.

Both of you squirmed uncontrollably against each other when you make out against his bedroom wall, he squeezed your ass before he tapped your thighs for you to jump on him and bring you onto his bed.

He didn't waste his time pulling down his shorts and breathily plea, "suck me off."

You delighted hearing his request, overjoyed to finally have him asking for you to please him, "as you wish, sir."

You immediately take him into your hand, eyes locked with him as he winced, groaning when you suck his tip and swallow him into your mouth. When you started to bob your head, he throw his head back with a sigh, his neckline is prominent and his adam's apple bob deliciously.

You can feel your lips torn up because of how big he is, and you can feel the veins as you drag your tongue along his shaft. "Oh, fuck, that's it baby, you're doing so good," he hissed sexily and it almost made you cum. Embarrassing.

Considering how much you are already wet for him from just sucking his cock is insane. He face fucked you as he let out his honey moans and groans, every time you find his tip meeting the back of your throat and you felt like swallowing it, you try your best not to choke miserably on his cock.

"Where do you want me to cum?" He asked. "Of course, you can't talk." He chuckled as he mocked you. "You have to swallow it like a good girl, you think you can do that?" You nod your head eagerly. "Alright."

"Good girl." Every time he spits those words from his mouth, you felt your pussy clenching and it hurts.

His thrusts are getting faster and faster when warm loads run down your throat as he grunts loudly while throwing his head back again, then when he look down, you already gaze into his eyes and barely lick your lips, mouth full and smudged with his cum and your saliva.

"Shit.." he's savoring the sight before him for a while, and then he asked.

"Can i fuck you?"

You cracking up in front of him, it's not funny at all but-

"I told you, your wish is my command, baby." You started to strip and show him your naked body, prettily exposed on his bed, ready to be used.

"Fuck, isn't this my best birthday ever?" You laugh at him again.

"I know. Happy birthday, now eat your cake." You said jokingly.

He sneered and take his remaining clothes off, then crawl into the bed, and started kissing you from head to toe. He played with your tits, fumbled them here and there, pinching your nipples, nipping and licking. He sucked on the flesh just right above your chest, your throat, your shoulder, marking his mark.

"This tells that you're mine."

"Yours."

Your voice hitched and your neck arched when he lick your pussy, eating you out. You squirm under his touch and pull on his hair, only making him more passionate to giving you pleasure. He abused your clit and folds in the most delicious way that made you a moaning mess, the sound of him slurping your juices and his moan was making you beyond aroused. His tongue and lips find their way to clean up and suck every fold, fucking your hole. You whine when you feel like you're about to burst.

"Wait, mark, i wanna come around your cock," you asked him with a pout, and he can't really resist that.

"On your knees, pretty girl." You do as he says, eagerly arching your back and showing him your ass. He slapped it. Twice.

Mark rubs his tip sensually up and down your entrance before lining his cock to your pussy, he's doing that for a while, making more juices leaking from your core. But suddenly he put his cock between your ass cheeks then poked on the entrance, but never really thrust them. He's such a tease.

"H-hurry, please.."

"Hm? It's kinda nice to hear you begging like this, you know? What is it, pretty?"

"Please, mark, just fuck me," he never felt this victorious before.

He smirked and wet his lips, "gladly."

You moan as he rams into you, he picked up a steady pace as he fuck you from behind. He got your eyes rolled to the back of your head, drools are already all over your mouth and chin.

"Fuck, mark," "it's so good. So good, so good, so good," you cry over his cock, you heard him grunt heavily and he felt you tighten when he land another slap on your ass.

"Yeah? You like that, huh? Tell me you like it."

"I like it, i love it, ah-"

He's fucking you so good you felt like you're gonna cum soon. Your pussy keeps getting tighter as it swallows him, wrapping his cock like a gift.

"Are you gonna cum? Come on, cum around me, pretty girl," he squeezed and slap your ass, his thrust never faltered, bringing you into your climax. "Ahh- i think- i'm gonna cum, mark-"

The moment he played with your nipples, you lost it, you came so hard your vision got white as he keep thrusting into you, chasing his high.

"M-mark!"

"I know baby, i know, just, try to take this one okay, please,"

He pleaded. And you moan even harder. He piston in and out until you heard his deep groans as he cum inside you. Both of you were too immersed in the sex that you didn't realize what was just happened. He quickly pulled out though.

"Shit, i'm sorry,"

"It's okay. I'm on the pill anyways,"

When you glanced at him, he was breathing heavily, sweat covering his body, making him glow under the dim light. Mouth agape, hair's disheveled. Perfect.

"So.."

"So?"

"Uh, thank you, for the present. This is what i wanted from you. I guess.."

You smiled fondly at him. He has always been just a hot roommate to you although he's actually attractive in many ways, but you might really, really like him more than you thought.

"You know what?" You get up on your elbow, "you were always loud when you jerked off."

Oh.

Oh, he's freaking out.

"And that's.. with you almost every time calling my name.."

He's swearing in his head.

Mark lee, aren't you just too obvious?

[katerinaaqu]

hello :D I hope you’re doing well! I really liked your understanding and knowledge of Greek mythology and as someone who also really likes it and always wants to learn more I’m often in spaces that discus such things. But there is a little “problem” that I have encountered and I just wanted to maybe ask you to know if you know more about it! Long story short I saw a video discussing calypso and a comment saying that ppl who say that she 🍇 ed Odysseus didn’t read the story well enough. They also said that they only slept one time together which is when he left and that was consensual apparently. I didn’t read the odyssey in a bit and wanted to ask if there’s like a specific part that you remember that says the opposite. Idk if what I asked really makes sense so if you can answer tysm!!

Hello and I am doing okay thank you very much Anon.

Thank you very much for the compliment and your kind words and it is great that we see more people actually getting interested to the ACTUAL material and it is always great to have new people into this reading and understanding process.

I have answered or analized on that matter before but it is always great to do so again and again! ^_^

I see so again we have more on this rape denial (and yeah I am using the actual word! No euphemisms and censory of words in this house! Hahahaha!) well then the person who said that probably forgot this passage here:

However the nights he was sleeping with her at her hollow caves out of necessity for even if she was willing, he was not

(Translation by me)

I believe the most important part eludes this OP that said that because I don't believe that Homer added the last words there by chance. He specifically uses the terms οὐκ ἐθέλων ἐθελούσῃ

οὐκ ἐθέλων -> adv. negative form m. that shows opposition "even if he was not willing.

ἐθελούσῃ -> adv. positive form, dative f. "by the willing" or "at the side of the willing"

Which is why many translators translate this small phrase as "unwilling lover by the side of the willing" So it clearly indicates rape given how I doubt that Homer indicated they were just...cuddling by each other's side for 7 years! So it is an indicator of the lack of free will. In fact the word ἀνάγκῃ (coming from the verb ἀναγκάζω or ἀναγκάσσω which means "to force") indicates need but not the need as "I need you badly" but as "I have no choice" or "I am forced to" either by the circumstances or by someone clearly imposing their will upon me. So there is a clear of factor of force here. So by definition rape.

So I will break down the rest and sorry if it is long.

Now there is a phrase, which I also memorize to this other post of mine here:

Which is this as you can see from my post:

Because he didn't like the nymph anymore

(Translation by me)

Given that this οὐκέτι means "no longer" or "no more" seems to be indicating to some readers of the Odyssey that the whole thing started willingly and that at some point Odysseus got bored of her and stopped it. However I disagree with that reading for many reasons. For once that the term ἁνδάνω -> past tense ἥνδανε means "to please" or "to gratify" but not necessarily in a sexual way. It generally means any form of gratification or likeness (even though in modern times we have connected the verb more with sexual gratification or ηδονή in modern greek) so I also agree more to the translators who also interpret the passage as "her sight no longer pleased him" aka after years and years of being a prisoner, all the likeness and gratitude he had for her as a person is gone (see also my other post)

Two I do not like this reading because many people who see it that way also deny the rape as that person in the comments. As I have stated to some other replies of mine, the affair starting willingly doesn't exclude the rape. Even if we say that Odysseus started it or accepted it (and as I said I doubt it given the context) Calypso was still raping him at that point. Either he was unwilling from the very beginning and Calypso was forcing herself on him, not taking no for an answer, or he at some point had a change of mind and wanted to stop and Calypso didn't take no for an answer.

Now for the part that the OP in question mentions that "they have sex only once". Yeah technically speaking there is only one scene in the Odyssey that could be interpreted as of sexual nature and is spoken in only one lyric, as I mention to my post I liked and it's this one:

People who interpret that Odysseus started the affair willingly, for some reason by n large also think that the rape is not a thing. I mean would they say the same for let's say a girl nowadays, starting an relationship with a boyfriend, eventually she realized he is not for her, she decided to stop it but the boyfriend would't take no for an answer and continuing forcing himself on her, wouldn't we call it a rape at that point regardless on the smooth beginning?

Then why would anyone who for their own personal reasons read the passage as Odysseus willingly starting the affair and then wishing to stop it but Calypso not having it assumes that Odysseus was not raped?

And they enjoyed closeness resting by each other's side

(Translation by me)

On a much darker note, Odysseus was abused constantly for years. The existence of the goddess as the only source of warmth and close contact he had for years (no matter how forceful) might have done something to him enough to just try and reconsile fully with Calypso. Someone might say that this is...too modern to say but honestly I doubt it. Homer was a master of expressing psychology and in later passage made Odysseus totally unwilling to be touched by Nausicaa's servant girls and wished to bathe himself instead. It is not like the Phaeaces would recognize him or his scar at that point to fear for his identity (not to mention he was already naked anyways) but he uses as an excuse that "he is ashamed". Being washed by female servants was customary and not seen as shameful in ancient Greece.

So for starters yes it seems that the scene is positive of emotions given the verb τέρπω "delight" or "enjoy" so the whole verb "to force" seems to fly out the window and then comes the word φιλότης which I assume people who read some words in Greek know that comes from he verb φιλέω-ώ which in ancient Greek meant "to love" so they translate the word φιλότης as "love". Honestly is not hard to see why given how other parts of homeric poems (more specifically during the Deception of Zeus) the same phrase pops up to signify lovemaking.

However the interesting part is that the word does not mean just love. It also means "friendship" or "reconsiliation" or just "closeness". I also find it interesting how people ignore the passage of "sleeping by her side although not willing" as a sign that nothing happened between them but they are very much certain that this passage here implies sexual scenes. As I mention to the post I linked it seems more likely that the passage translates "they enjoyed closeness resting by each other's sides" and that also of course imply mutual enjoyment of their reconsiliation possibly because Odysseus was happy to finally return home and Calypso took an oath that she didn't aim to trick him. Another thing is what could Odysseus do basically? Hold a grudge against an immortal goddess? How? Much more BEFORE he had the chance to build his raft?

Odysseus denies the help of women because he doesn't seem ready to accept a female touch just yet!

Homer also doesn't imply that Odysseus's stay at Calypso's island was in any shape or form willing. In fact Athena, Zeus and Homer himself all alike speak on how Odysseus was being kept against his will and nowhere in the passage apart from these small ones that I give here was it implied that Odysseus was being there pleasantly but rather that he was imprisoned or retained perforce. And that is without counting Odysseus's own words that neither of the goddesses got his heart and that both retained him. Odysseus also speaks with fear on both but Calypso in particular. Yeah he isn't hateful to them but again what can he do? He was roaming about for 10 years with the worst consequences because he was offensive to one god. I doubt he would want to badmouth any other no matter how small. And he also wants to appear pleasant to the eyes of his hosts to gain their sympathy so he doesn't really badmouth anyone apart from calling Calyspo and Circe "terrifying" or "dreadful" and occasionally his men "careless" or "mindless"

I think it is up for everyone's conscious to interpret his affair with Calypso starting willingly (and even then "willing" seems interesting to say the very least given that, as we said, Calypso was literally the only contact with anything remotely human Odysseus had for years. Even if we assume that for some reason he started an affair or accepted it, even the setting is messed up; loneliness, loss, mourning, fear for a powerful goddess etc) he still was being held prisoner and forced one way or another.

I hope that makes sense and I am sorry I was so long.

***

Some other parts that I replied on the matter of Calypso and consequently Circe:

And this is my reply to another person who did analyze the passage differently so you will have that idea as well and I also elaborate on my counter-arguements as well (and the discussion was really productive as well and the OP was really open and respectful to other insights and I was happy to contribute to the conversation:

Sorry again for the long reply!

[flowerandblood]

ONE YEAR OF FLOWER&BLOOD

✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙

Exactly one year ago I posted my first chapter of the My Best Friend series. Nowadays I think it's something awful and I don't even try to edit it because I'd have to write everything from scratch, but I've left it for people who feel attached to the story. I remember getting about six likes and one comment on the first day and that huuuuge interest made me eager to create chapter 2 and then all the others.

I remember the excitement with which I waited and then replied to comments, not believing that people were actually waiting for the next chapter. At the time I was literally not following anyone, which was good because I wasn't comparing myself to anyone.

Eventually I felt I was ready to try writing other series and a few were successful enough that I decided to stay here permanently and create because it made me happy. Up to that point, everyone had been very kind to me and I started following more and more blogs, wanting to feel part of the fandom, to make friends with everyone. Now I know that was the biggest mistake I made.

Seeing things that didn't interest me, fanfic's whose way of writing couldn't draw me in, I felt frustrated, while at the same time fearing that if I stopped following someone, that person would see it as an affront. At the same time, The Impossible Choice, my biggest project until The Fall from the Heavens (which I'm currently editing and re-editing, while inserting on AO3), began to be written.

Just when I thought I had reached the pinnacle of my abilities (which wasn't true), I also started to clash with anonymous hate messages, probably the worst of which were those vilifying me and my husband, and those regarding my one-shot with Micheal Gavey. I know now that taking it personally and getting involved was my big mistake, and the fandom was shaken by drama that got out of hand.

I was a few steps away from deleting my blog at the time, but my husband talked me out of the idea (thankfully, as my stories aren't saved anywhere else − I'm only now moving them to AO3).

That's when I first realised that some people here I don't even like, and they probably don't like me. I wondered, why are we following each other then? Why are we pretending to have any courtesy? It was only later that I realised that to be considered someone's friend, you have to reblog their work and preferably agree with them even when they write hurtful things.

Since I've depleted my circle of those I follow to about 20 people, since I've blocked dozens of people and tags, there's been blissful silence (with the exceptions of when I write about behaviour in the fandom that I find toxic and someone accuses me of causing drama, but I'm used to it now). I've also never written happier than I do now.

Ideas come to me on their own, I don't feel uptight about what other big people will think of me, whether they reblog it, approve of it or not. I don't give a shit and life is beautiful! Although I can be emotionally unstable, I'm only 70 people short of crossing the next milestone of 3,000 followers, and that's BIG for me. It amuses me that I keep getting messages that someone is going to block me or stop following me, and you guys keep coming. It's gratifying.

I'm going to keep writing for you guys, and I'm sure during season two you'll also see my posts describing my impressions after the episodes in which I hope to involve my husband. I'll also keep you updated here on how I'm doing with my book I'm creating in my private life.

Apreciation

@ewanmitchellcrumbs

Ange. I know that sometimes I'm fucked up, but I want you to know that you've made this place so much more bearable for me that I can't imagine it without you. What I appreciate most about you is that you can talk and discuss, that you always try to understand the other side, that you are empathetic, warm and kind. I feel that, like friends in everyday life, we can also tell each other about things we disagree about, and there are not many people like that here.

On top of that, you are very talented and your stories are always a pleasure to read, even when they are short, you are able to build the plot and atmosphere perfectly, something I have always admired. Thank you for every kind word and understanding.

I still remember your first message to me via ask, referring to the fact that I didn't want to write a pairing with a mermaid because someone else was writing about it at the same time. My heart melted then, it was so nice!

@targaryenrealnessdarling

Liz, Queen of Angst! Your calmness and composure puts me in awe. You're disgustingly talented when it comes to writing and you have a super-sweet personality. When you started following me I began to squirm with delight, and when you started reblogging my stuff? My goodness!!!

@persephonerinyes

You've been engaging and reblogging my stories for as long as I can remember. Always involved, your thoughts make me smile. Thank you for being with me for so long!

@zenka96

You've been here with me since the dawn of time. You know that I love you. Your support from the very beginning really makes me feel like I have a friend here.

@huramuna

I am so proud of you! I remember your asks when I wrote Glass Cuts Deepest, your illustrations for me and your uncertainty about whether you should start writing yourself. I'm so happy for you and that you are so successful! You deserved it.

@black-dread & @aegonx

You are my favourite gif makers. Your work always leaves me in awe, you are amazing! I know how much work you put into it and somehow you make even the worst lit scenes look wonderful!

@summerposie; @0eessirk8; @melsunshine; @immyowndefender; @bellaisasleep; @kckt88; @thedamewithabook; @happinessinthebeing; @queenofshinigamis; @travelingmypassion; @mefools; @fan-goddess; @toodlesxcuddles; @ammo23; @troublesomesnitch; @mariahossain; @out-of-life; @apothe-roses; @heavenhatesme; @whitearemydarkestnight; @liv-cole; @blackswxnn; @echos-muses; @watercolorskyy; @at-a-rax-ia; @tssf-imagines; @snh96; @hiatuswhore; @exitpursuedbyavulcan; @darylandbethfanforever9; @the-dendrophile-bookdragon; @opheliaas-stuff @zaldritzosrose

Your comments and reblogs make me want to keep writing. You make me laugh, you comfort me and you support me. I know I'm definitely forgetting someone, but I want you to know that I love everyone who comments on my stories and there is nothing better for me than responding to your reactions and questions! I have known some of you for so many months that I truly consider you my good friends!

lottie-blue-star; aveatquevale-; aemondtargaryenwifey marvelescvpe; alphard-hydraes-blog; herejusttostan; li0nn3stuff; alexandrawho; vilmakamunen; angelinap09; theloveablestargirl; rose-blue-19; xxxkat3xxx; flosaureum; mandiiblanche; librawh0re; jasminecosmic99; ivvypg; rojocarnation; killmanduh; tokkiiidoll; wolfdressedinlace; angelofvivianne; nina2697; starwarsgirlsimmer1; katsucker; ipostwhtifeel; aemondsdelight; ilswemoon; tigrigri; pasta-rask; roselibrary; lystargs; gemini-mama; nikstrange; tempo-rary-fix; coffeeobsessedtrencher; gwuinivyre; dreamerbythewayx; diiickbrainn; mothmankit

And everyone else I missed and whose icons I would recognize from afar. I know that you have been with me for many months, often in silence or communicating anonymously. Your silent support and presence is something wonderful for me, knowing that you have been with me for so long and read all my posts!

Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!

[justonemorechapternicercy]

Watched Hadestown. Had some Hadercy thoughts.

“That's fucked up,” Percy murmured as the last note of the Hey, Little Songbird trailed off.

A scoff came from his side, and a deep voice replied, “Well, it's Hades, isn't it?”

And that was just it.

It wasn't Hades. Not the Hades Percy knew. It is the Hades everybody believed him to be; cruel and cold, unfeeling and malicious. It was the Hades Camp Half-blood tried to turn him against; the one Chiron was adamant to be the one behind the stolen lightning bolt. The one nobody trusted in.

Not the one Percy got to know.

“No,” he whispered, eyes never leaving the stage. It was a captivating play - he’d never really been to theater before -, and the story was something he love-hated. Still, it made him so mad to see Hades portrayed like this.

“No?” Asked the person sitting next to him in a surprised tone. Percy didn't reply - it would have been rude. The play was still going on, after all.

-

The intermission came as a surprise. He was captivated; the songs were beautiful, the music something he didn't really experience before. Everybody had been so quick to dismiss his interest in the show, thinking that theater was too good for him, but if all musicals were like that, he wouldn't mind visiting other plays as well. It was not the best going to places alone, but maybe he could take Estelle with him, sometimes. She would probably love it - and she deserved a better childhood than his was.

“Well, Little Songbird, what did you mean by no?” His neighbor’s words brought him back from his thoughts. He blinked, looking back to the person next to him, and.

Well.

Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't stupid. Oblivious, maybe. Scattered brained, definitely - he had ADHD for fuck's sake. But stupid? No.

So, when he saw the gorgeous guy next to him, he knew that it was a god. Not because he was unfairly handsome, but because gods who tried to blend in humans tended to still stand out - in Percy's opinion at least. He didn't know who he was, but that guy was definitely a god. And a god, who tried to trash talk about Hades in front of Percy.

He narrowed his eyes, and said, “What? Do you have problems with understanding a simple word? It means that I disagreed with your statement. I understand that it might come as a surprise, but keep up.”

The god looked surprised, then laughed. It was a good look on him, Percy noted distantly.

“Little Songbird got a sharp tongue, I see. So, if you are so opinionated, what’s your opinion on Hades?” asked with a calculating look.

Percy had no trouble with putting gods in their places. So, he started, “Well, first of all, he is portrayed as a villain everywhere. But like, for what the fuck? He is the Lord of the Underworld, not Death. He does not decide who dies and who lives, he just rules over them. And I would also be pissed off if my realm would be overcrowded. He did not kidnap Persephone without consent. He is not cruel, not compared to basically any other god. And-”

Before he could finish his tirade, he was pulled out of his chair, onto the lap of the god. Who was-

Oh, of course. He wasn't even surprised.

“If you don't want me to kiss you, tell me. Otherwise, you will experience what it is to be kidnapped with consent at first hand.”

“Not before the end of the play,” Percy huffed, pulling away from the tempting embrace. He wanted to enjoy his first time at the theater at its fullest, damnit!

A pause, then, “After the play, then.”

It sounded like a threat.

For Percy, it was a promise.

[lefaystrent]

Logan steps down the stairs to find Virgil lounging on the couch.

No, not lounging. He is sitting sideways, shoulder leaned into the backrest. A finger toys with his hoodie string. His headphones only cover one ear. It's a position meant to be temporary, as if Virgil sat on the couch for a moment but forgot that he was going to get back up.

Logan judges his thousand-yard stare.

"How long have you been sitting here?" Logan asks.

Virgil glances to him, then goes back to looking at nothing. This close, Logan can hear faint music coming from the headphones. "Why?"

"I'm only curious."

"Hn," Virgil grunts and continues to stare. Logan is patient. Sometimes Virgil needs more time to get the words to come out of his head. Eventually, patience is rewarded. "Dunno. Couple hours?"

Logan looks between him and the kitchen. There's no one else here, and there's no sign of anything else pressing. All the same, Logan's suspicions are aroused and he forms a hypothesis.

"When is the last time you've eaten?"

Virgil shrugs. "A while?"

In reference to past dialogs, Logan understands that to Virgil, 'a while' is considered a much longer amount of time than 'a couple hours'.

Logan adjusts his glasses. "Were you intending on eating soon?"

"Yeah."

"Is that why you are down here?"

"Yeah."

"Why have you not then?"

Virgil huffs a sigh. He's scowling now and moved to glowering at the couch arm instead.

In other words, he's becoming more engaged. Good.

"Because I just haven't," Virgil replies lamely.

"Do you want food?"

"Yeah? I think we've established that."

"But you are finding difficulty in motivating yourself to initiate the task, correct?"

"I guess?"

"What would happen if you got up right now and made yourself some food?"

Virgil pauses.

No, he freezes. His muscles clench and his back goes somewhat rigid.

Noting the reaction, Logan continues, "Disregard answering that question. More importantly, tell me how how you felt just then at considering carrying out this task?"

"I thought you don't do feelings..."

"While it is not my area of expertise, I am however adept at observing emotional responses to triggering phenomena."

Virgil snorts, but Logan doesn't take it to heart. He knows that Virgil appreciates the way he talks and is not laughing at him.

Logan approaches to sit on the couch arm, cutting off Virgil's focal point. Virgil blinks and looks up at him.

Logan smiles. "Furthermore, I am capable of rooting out the cause of the cognitive distortion, and offering unbiased methods of handling it productively. The facts are as follows: you are hungry, you came here to prepare food, you have not done so for a large amount of time despite your hunger, and the thought of initiating the act of preparing food gives you a jolt of anxiety. Do you agree?"

Virgil purses his lips. "I mean, I don't disagree?"

"Then you agree. What about this unsettles you?"

Virgil covers his face with one hand tiredly. "Before you say anything, I know it's irrational. But if I do it, I'm gonna die."

"Die."

"Yeah. I'm gonna freakin' die."

"You are right, that is irrational." Before Virgil can take offense, Logan soothes it over. "That is not a judgment, merely an agreement to your statement. In fact, kudos to you for making this observation."

"No one says kudos, dork.... Dork as in affectionately. I'm affectionately insulting you, just to be clear."

"Virgil, what you're experiencing is executive dysfunction. This is more than procrastination. You are aware of the need to pursue this action, yet you find yourself facing a mental block and unable to carry the task out. This is not out of laziness, and the longer you are unable to perform the task, the more heightened your anxiety becomes to the point that you cannot perform any task."

Virgil evaluates himself. "So...that's why I've just been sitting here?"

"Exactly. You have been spiraling. To break out of the spiral, the task will unfortunately need to be completed. You will need to eat. The manner in which you receive food though, that we can adapt to."

"So what do I do?"

"Simple, nothing. Let me make you something to eat."

Virgil's eyes snap open wide. He sits up and shakes his head frantically. "No, no, that'll just make me feel more guilty than I already do. Nope, please don't."

"I assure you, I am offering because I would like to be of assistance and this will not be a burden to me mentally or physically. Or emotionally, if that's what you believe."

"Nope, uh-uh, still can't do it."

No matter how much he reassures, and no matter how much he can rationalize, Logan cannot always alleviate Virgil's anxiety. It is his nature, his battle, and he does not always win even with help.

Logan smiles again, softly and patient and earnest, trying to show Virgil that he would keep fighting for him regardless. "Then how about this then. I will go prepare myself a meal as I am hungry. Depending on how much I make, there may be left-overs. And if there are, it'd be a shame to let those go to waste. I'll leave any for you. If there are any, that is."

To that, Virgil can't really argue. Logan can see the figurative gears shifting in his head. His mouth opens and closes more than once.

"Would you be amenable to that?" Logan asks, attempting to ease him into an answer.

Virgil throws himself back on the couch, all long limbs stretched out. He rolls over so that he's lying on his face.

"I guess!" He growls and there's not bite to it.

Logan beams at him proudly. "Satisfactory. I will let you know then."

He excuses himself to the kitchen. While he busies himself, he occasionally peeks over the bar to see Virgil's head poking over the back of the couch, hair askew and tried eyes watching him.

Sometimes the thoughts overwhelm you.

Sometimes you need to trick your brain into behaving.

And sometimes, you just need a buddy to make you dinner.

[paperstarwriters]

Hey, do you take requests? I loved your Modern Roomate Muriel X Reader fic and I would love a part 2 if you ever felt like writing it <3

Yes I take requests! But it does take a while for me to finish them cause I'm slow and this was no exception lol

thank you for waiting though! and I'm glad you like my writing enough to want more!

For this one I've tried to keep descriptions vague but also I tried to be accurate with Muriel's colors. Though if you can't tell I'm still not exactly confident with makeup lmao. Tbh i can't use it much since I'm prone to rashes, so I don't have much experience lol. Still I hope you enjoy <3

Pairing: Modern Roommates Muriel x Reader

Warnings: Lots of fluff & Author knows little about Makeup 😅.

Summary: Muriel admits that he has worn makeup before, but under such bad circumstances, you can't help but want to give him a better experience.  More important than the colours, more important than the fine lines, you want this to feel... Nice for Muriel. Like he's being pampered. He deserves that you think.

Word Count: 3, 640

Part 1 | Masterlists | The Arcana Masterlist

Painting

"So have you worn make up before?" 

Muriel pauses in making breakfast, turning to face you as you sip at your glass of water at the table. Had he not noticed you come in? He's typically very (annoyingly) good at that. Any chance of preening at your sudden ability to sneak up on your roommate falls flat as he makes a scrunched expression. Disgust perhaps? Or discomfort? You can't tell as he quickly turns back to his cooking, too soon to let you see what exactly he might have felt. 

Thankfully, he graces you with a reply. 

"I... Did before..... For a bit.... For a.... Job." 

Your stomach sinks. 

It's funny how much there is to notice. What you can pick up and understand when you live so closely with a quiet roommate. How a hum can mean a number of things, ranging from a simple yes to, "I think that's kinda dumb but you know what, you do you." or "I appreciate you too much to disagree." And for all that Muriel did not talk to you about his past, he only ever reserves the word "Job" for one job he's had in the past. Everything else is called work. This, you're sure, is better called torture. 

Asra mentioned it once to you before, when you were new roommates and he was far grouchier and colder. Muriel worked a job under some toxic super wealthy frat boy manager doing something violent and unsavory. A boxing ring you sometimes imagined, an assassination job it sometimes sounded like. In desperate need of money he had to do a lot of terrible things. It's a wonder he ever got out without someone chasing him to drag him back in, but well, thanks to the r3d outbreak getting away is way easier when your employers get sick, or when you can feign an illness and leave as the higher ups fear for their lives.

What kind of make up would that kind of job need? Maybe something black around the eyes like they do for the military with their masks? Or was it make up to appear more sick in order to escape?

Muriel sighs as he pushes your plate closer to you, startling you as you hadn't even noticed it was there. You mutter your thanks before you start eating the eggs and rice he's prepared for you, still trying to chew over what his possible past experience might have been with makeup while you try to chew your food at the same time. The result is tenuous of at best as you run very close to choking on your food a handful of times and miss your mouth once or twice when particularly deep in thought. 

What kind of makeup did Muriel even use?

...What would he look like in makeup?

On that point, what would suit him best? Something dramatic and edgy or emo? Or maybe a pop of colour? Green around his eyes might draw lovely attention to the green within, but a dark eyeliner might as well. What about contrast? Red against green? Wouldn't he look lovely in red? A lingering stain of red on his cheeks, and a bright red stain of red on his lips... Ah how kissable they would be then?

...well, anyone would consider his lips kissable if such plush things were stained a vibrant red...

"Are... Are you done?" Muriel mumbles, eyes diverted to tracing the scuffmarks at the bottom of the wall beside him.

It takes you a moment to realize that your plate is already empty, and a moment longer to realize you had been staring at Muriel for the last few minutes as you daydreamed about makeup. You're quick to rectify your mistake as you redirect your attention to your empty plate, though it takes you another moment to remember that it's your turn to wash them, plucking your plate and his from the table to go and wash.

It's silent for awhile. An anxious little silence wrought with a familiar lighthearted tension. It's more awkward than anything, but someone needs to break the silence, someone needed to say something. If you could just—

"Do you wanna try wearing makeup?" you blurt out. You don't even need to turn to look behind you to see his shocked expression at your offer, maybe even a little bit of hurt or betrayal that you just cannot bear to see. So you keep your eyes on the dishes before you, quickly scrubbing away rice with a sponge as the used pan sits below soaking in the water. "Not any battle make-up or anything, but just something... I don't know... Artsy or something? Something colourful? Something that would compliment your eyes..... Uhm not that your eyes aren't pretty or something—or that you're not pretty without makeup—or that you even need to do this at all haha!" 

Above you the light from the small kitchen's lightbulb is eclipsed by a familiar figure behind you. With a gentle touch of your shoulder, Muriel brings your attention up towards him though he still looks away, avoiding your eyes, as the corner of his lips twitches. You can't tell if he's fighting a smile or fighting a frown. 

"You don't have to, Muriel. It's just an idea..." 

And finally he meets your gaze. "I... No. I... I'd like that. It sounds...nice." 

His eyes wander away from you again, as if ashamed to confess that he'd like to wear make up—though maybe, considering what you've heard about that shitty old job, he is. Maybe his old job was the type to argue that pretty makeup was for the weak and spineless, or maybe he was convinced that pretty makeup was only for the rich and wealthy who came to watch or hire him to fight for them, all while they'd sit so far away and safe and cozy in some plush lounge seat, so far away from the danger and the violence, but getting the chance to watch, and delight in the wretched outcome.

Either case is so awfully sad. Either case only makes you want to doll him up in makeup even more.

Furiously you scrub at the pan, and within a matter of seconds you've scraped off anything that had ever threatened to stick, thoroughly scrubbed at it with soap and set it aside to dry with the plates as you wipe your hands on your shirt and nearly bolt off to your room to search for your materials. Hopefully you had colours that would work well with him. 

It takes you a moment to realize that you're alone in your room, turning with a handful of tools to find no one there behind you, and as you peek out of your door and down the hallway, you find Muriel still standing in front of the sink, staring at you with wide confused and slightly worried eyes. 

"Do you not wanna do it anymore?"

His eyes seem to go even wider for a moment, before he replies, "right now?" 

"Did you want to do it later?"

"I—no....okay!"

And back in to your room you go, this time with the added assurance that Muriel would follow, marked by the faint thud of his feet against the hallway floors.

You dig around for your cleanest brushes, and grab your most trustworthy (and thus most used) brushes alongside it, grabbing something to clean the brushes as you bolt off to the bathroom  to wash your tools, before you return to searching your assortment of tools in search for items that would suit him. The red of one lipstick would look lovely in contrast to his eyes, but a muted dusty pink might look just as pretty wouldn't it? Perhaps a bold black eyeliner, would be a bit much—and maybe a bit too similar to whatever black eye paint they used in the military if he used that stuff, so maybe a brown eyeliner would work a bit better? If you even had one of those... Though maybe brown eyeshadow would be effective enough? Ah but maybe brown wouldn't be as noticeable...

You zip back and forth between the washroom and your tools, between cleaning and searching for colours and palettes rummaging through your rather limited assortment of makeup tools. Having only ever bought stuff for yourself, you didn't really have much outside of your favourite colours or in tones that would suit your skin, but a few older products that you tried and didn't like, or a few palettes with sparsely used colours were surely somewhere within the mix. 

You only pause in your searching as you're pulling your brushes out from the washroom, having dried them off loosely with a towel to go further air dry them beside a nearby fan or in the sun by the window or something, you had been in the middle of deciding when you realized you had forgotten a crucial component. 

"Hey Muriel?" 

He sits up straight at the sound of his name, head snapping away to look out the door, as his hands ball into fists as if bracing for the touch of your brush. 

You can't help but hesitate a bit at the sight. 

"What.....?"

"Oh, uh, you should probably go wash your face, and use some cream on your skin as well. The one in the flat container should be pretty good for most skin I think?"

Muriel nods, still not looking your way as you return to your make up drawers in search for odd colours you only maybe, hopefully had for him.

When the sound of the sink finally shuts off, you take it as your cue to give up. It's an odd assortment of colors—you doubt you'd use that neon shade of green on him, even if green is his colour the brightness might be a bit...off-putting right away, but you have a general colour scheme you can follow using some of the colours on hand. 

Face ever so slightly damp and shiny from the cream, Muriel returns, looking... Anxious to say the least really.

He fiddles with his hands a bit, touching his face almost just as much, trying to wipe away invisible droplets of water, or trying to smooth down the thicker patches of the lotion you let him borrow. 

And again, you find yourself hesitant.

"Are you sure you wanna try this? No shame in backing out. It's easy to put this stuff away." 

Muriel nods, following his silence with a half whispered reply. "No, I'm ..... I'm okay. I want to try...."

You nod, and pulling your first brush from it's little cup, you settle down, and begin to get to work. 

It's a lot of careful maneuvering, carefully dabbing colours onto some places with a brush, rubbing other places with your fingers, before you lean away to check how you're doing. Were the colours too bright? Was that line off? There are a few things that you end up having to scrub off with a makeup wipe, but even with that you're careful of his skin. More important than the colours, more important than the fine lines, you want this to feel... Nice for Muriel. Like he's being pampered. Muriel barely moves through the entirety of it all, but for what little he does it means all the world to you. Silent and unmoving, eyes and mouth closed, Muriel serves as the perfect canvas, only difficult in the fact that it keeps you from seeing whether he likes it or not, if he feels pampered or not. At the very least, you hope it feels nothing like whatever his old job used to do for him. 

Ah, but you can only really hope. 

An orange-red lipstick is the final touch, but your limited supply of brushes are already all packed with colours, and you'd like to —if all possible—keep the things that touched your eyes from going towards anyone—including your own—mouth. 

So you elected a far simpler method instead. You rub your finger against the lipstick bullet, and with your finger to his lips you smudge the colour against his skin. And with a simple touch to his lips, you make him jolt, breaking his statuesque composure, for just a moment before he's still all over again, albeit maybe leaning a little more foreword than before. If he has, it's barely noticeable, and probably caused by that one jolt of movement. His lips are a bit chapped and dry, so it takes a few attempts, but you manage to stain his lips with a suitable amount of colour in your eyes. 

You take a step back to see what you've done, and smile, satisfied at your work. It's nothing special, nothing on the level of some professional in a studio with all the makeup options in the world at their fingertips, but you think that it suits him, and you're proud of that much at least.

"You can open your eyes now." 

You offer him a hand mirror, and let him examine your, admittedly shoddy work. It's not perfect, but the colours look nice you think, though you can't help but wince at the selection a little. You just didn't have a shade of green that would fit him well in your opinion, so you leaned instead into the red colours that you did have. You used the only greens you could find to add a little colour to the inner and outer corners of his eyes, and used a warm orange-y-red lipstick on his lips that turned out pretty dark against his skin, you also smudged the colour a bit along his cheeks as well, as a sort of blush really though if you could you'd like to try to capture that shade of red his face so often blooms. It really isn't your best work, limited as your colour palette was, but....

Well, the way his eyes seem to glitter more at seeing it.... Well, it would make any make up look pretty on him really.

"Can I... Ask for one thing?" 

You blink, surprised for a moment before you're immediately grabbing the makeup wipes again. 

"Sure! Do you not like the colours? Is there a colour that you'd rather wear?" 

His cheeks tint red, and you almost curse yourself for the smudge of dark red on his cheeks, making it harder to decipher that exact shade. Surely you had lipstick in that colour at least...?

"What.... What was the colour of lipstick you were wearing last night....?" 

You pause for a moment, dropping the attempt of colour matching to grab the tube of lipstick from it's place on your table. It was a dark red shade, almost like the colour of blood, a shade you specifically aimed to avoid, hoping that it wouldn't make him uncomfortable. 

"This one? You wanna try it on?" He barely even looks at it before he nods, making you sigh as you bring it closer to him to let him inspect it. "It might look different on your skin than it does on mine just an fyi, so don't be surprised if it looks different okay?" 

Muriel nods again, this time having looked at the lipstick a little more thoroughly. He doesn't react to the colour at all no trace of hesitance or weariness, so perhaps they didn't try to paint him in "blood" or anything dramatic like that. 

With your fingers once again, you press the red colour against his lips, as Muriel leans into your touch this time, eyes closed as he lets you work. The sight of it startles you for just a moment, looking as if he were leaning in for a kiss. 

Your finger slips from it's path, and a smudge of red, streaks away from his lips, but even that looks so.... Pretty against his skin. Like he's been kissed, like whatever lipstick he had been wearing had been smudged by another pair of lips eager to express their affection. 

You hesitate, staring at his lips for a moment before you finally turn away to grab more makeup wipes. When you turn back, Muriel's eyes are already open, already staring at your sloppy job with his lipstick. 

"Sorry I'll fix it. Do you like the colour though?" 

Muriel's eyes flicker to yours for a moment before he looks away, but a grin curls his painted lips, as more colour takes to his cheeks. A resounding yes, then, confirmed by a faint hum. A job well done in your books then, and thus a debt well repaid, for his gentle hand at helping you wash your own makeup off. 

You dab at his lip to wipe away the smudged lipstick, before you begin to pack up your supplies. "Feel free to wear that for however long you'd like, I...." you cut yourself off. The offer to help wash the make up from his face tucked away along with your makeup containers. Muriel helped you to clean off the makeup only because you needed his help exhausted and maybe a little drunk from your night out, but Muriel can surely handle himself. 

When you turn back around, Muriel is staring at himself in the mirror. It's the most you've seen him look in a mirror to be honest. Not including the bathroom, your room seems to be the only one in the apartment with a mirror, and though you've offered to let Muriel borrow your mirror if he needs to, or to help him buy his own, he's staunchly refused your offers. It was a small thing though, nothing that you'd feel the need to press him about. He's covered in scars after all, and you know full well how he feels about those—the whole reason why you let him use a handheld mirror than your full sized one. 

But now, as he holds your little handheld mirror up, to look at his face, you can't help but notice how he traces his own lips with a newfound reverence, fingers dancing along the flesh with the barest touch as if he were worried it would smudge, or wipe away with a mere touch. Yet even then, the corners of his lips are pulled up. Did he like it that much? You make a mental note to buy extra of that colour the next chance you get alongside some green eyeshadow perhaps, though by the looks of if, Muriel seemed to much prefer the lipstick that stained his lips than any of the other colours you've splattered on his face. 

It takes him a few moments, but when his eyes finally flicker up to you, he does so with a smile, that promptly fades into a blushy pout as he realizes your attention. It's a tragedy to see it go, but seeing his lip jut out at the attention is nearly as good. 

"Do you like it?" 

You're startled at his question, for a moment, scrambling for coherent thought to best reply to him. The reply you give in the end makes your own face grow warm, though earnest and true. 

"You look lovely." Even your expression softens a little, as your eyes flit back down to his lips.  Once more, Muriel's face picks up colour again, but try as he might, he can't quite keep the smile from curling up the corners of his mouth at his words. 

"Thank you."

Standing, Muriel fidgets with the mirror for a moment before handing it to you, mouth parting for a moment before he thinks better of it and closes it again. It continues for a moment or two, making him stay longer than you'd expect him to, as he stares anywhere but you. Familiar with the gesture, you wait for him to get his words in order, even as he looms above you while you're half sitting against the ledge of your drawers.

If anything, you take the moment to re-assess your work, recalling all the improvements you fully intended to make if he let you do this again. If you could, you'd use a shade closer to his eye colour as his eyeshadow next time, to bring more attention to the colour there. Or maybe even some sparkles next time? If he didn't mind them that is, it could be a bit irritating to try to clean off sometimes. And maybe next time you'd choose a better shade of blush that would match the actual red to rise in his cheeks. 

And the red of his lips... You're tempted to reach up, to press a finger to his lips once more, if only to feel how plush they were again, if only to give him more of that pretty red that he seemed to like so much despite his past.

And you watch as those pretty painted lips part, as those lovely emerald eyes finally dart your way. You watch as his attention finally turns to you, mouth parted as if ready to speak before he pauses, just for a breath, eyes searching your face for... Something. 

And maybe he finds it. Maybe he doesn't. But in reaction to whatever he sees, just a little bit of that tension escapes his face, shoulders sagging and the faintest curl of his lips gracing his expression. 

"Next time," the spell breaks as he speaks, mouth corralled into a pout once more as his eyes dart away from you, "Next time let me put your make up on for you."

And with that he turns away fingers just brushing against yours as he leaves your room, leaving you to blink and wonder what sort of makeup he knew to apply. 

If anything, at least he seemed to like it.

If anything, you had another reason to feel his fingers against your skin...

[jewish-vents]

(Post this anonymously, please!!)

I am an artist with an 8k+ follower blog which I have been active on for over 12 years. I've always felt safe here and have considered it my internet home. After October, watching the amount of people in my fandoms and artists who I had admired and found community with who immediately went full-in on a very black and white, aggressively conspiratorial and antisemitic brand of pro-Palestine activism, my idea of community here and my place in it was totally shaken. It was like I had put on a pair of glasses that allowed me to see the latent radicalization that had been going on around me, and the pervasive antisemitism that exists, unacknowledged, in nominally pro-social justice leftist spaces.

The loneliest part is that it feels like, with few exceptions, only other Jews can see it. Even the gentile friends who i love most and who would unquestionably stand up for me are just not attuned to the dogwhistles enough to see 95% of it. It's like living in a bubble reality, unable to take these glasses off, while everyone else goes on as if everything is the same.

Yesterday, I logged in, and saw image attached from a gentile artist i'd followed for months, who had never before given me a reason to feel unsafe. Their tags read "don't come in my inbox to debate this, i have no interest and will not change my mind." I wanted to cry from frustration- this person likely has no understanding of how revoltingly antisemitic this post was because they have no understanding of the complexity of what "zionism" actually means, and, as they've made clear, they have no interest in learning or being told they're mistaken. There are so few of us (Jews) here- how the hell are we ever supposed to combat this? The worst part was that it had 98 likes, and zero replies suggesting that any of them saw a problem with this or disagreed.

I myself never really understood zionism before this- I am ashamed to say that I took a lot of the twisted definitions held by gentiles in my progressive social media spaces without question, and thought that because I believed in Palestinian self-determination, I must be an anti-zionist by definition. It took the "glasses" coming on in the time since October for me to fully learn and to understand that while the nuances of the term go deep, to the majority of my people, basic "zionism" means belief in Jewish-self determination in Eretz Yisrael, and that when many gentiles say "Zionist," they just mean "bad Jew."

In all of this mess there's one thing i'm grateful for, and it's that, even as i've lost community in unfollowing/blocking previous mutuals and acquaintances who've shown their incuriosity and prejudice, this shakeup has driven me to find community with other Jews on this site and a greater curiosity about and sense of belonging in my culture in the real world. I can't be mad that my eyes are open, because i've only lost community that wouldn't accept me as I am, and am gaining community that does, that shares my struggles and that sees the world in ways compatible with my values. When I look at my activity tab and see notifications from my mutuals now, I feel safe knowing that I have been honest, shared the truth of me, and that they have chosen to stick around, whoever they are. I love you all.

[iceinwhb]

Thank you for posting a bit of Lucifer's new card. Yet again PB tosses any sense of player agency out the window. If they want us to like MC, or feeling like we're part of the story as MC...then they're doing a bad job of it.

Ohw, you don't have anything to be thankful for. I would like to bring you more stuff about it, but unfortunately I am part of the people who don't want to buy a nightmare pass card.

I would like to advise that if you want content like this, follow an awesome account that allows us to have a little more information about the Lucifer card; Hikifans (I recommend you to follow the account because there is always whb content that most of us F2P people don't have).

Well, I've already reconciled the idea that Mc is so silly and insipid that sometimes can… work, and sometimes it doesn't, but its change comes with the course of the main story, because the cards are solely for the purpose of fuck with demons.

And I wouldn't want to disagree with PB, precisely because my content goes specifically to this, but I do tend to think it's a company like any other, and all they want is money, regardless of the players.

The price is truly another level compared to other gachas, both new and known, and yes, it seems unfair to me, I also don't feel they want to do it differently when they see the opportunity to make more profit than they didn't have in their other games.

And I want to add that I don't really understand the reason for making it so expensive, if the highest price of LU for a pack is around 26 dollars, and in Doki Doki, 15 dollars the most expensive of the week, then PB does know how to manage affordable prices for their players, and they can also sell the cards separately, and it would be dozens of times better, but no. I know they are aware that the players only pay for the card, not for the materials that can be obtained for free in the game.

So yes, you are right when you say they are doing it wrong, but only for us, the players.

And from this, I can give you even more bad news. There will be cards with the same position as Lucifer:

And I don't have the slightest confidence that it will be free.

On the other hand, if you wonder where all the money you spend on the game goes, I think PB is trying their best to stay afloat, that's why I don't think that for the moment, they are going to address players' complaints. In fact, they themselves said that they were “too busy” developing whb that it was impossible for them to reply to every single comment.

(And what I actually believe they were developing:

And I am sure that if they made a Raphael, there is also a Gabriel and a Michael.)

And I'll try not to contradict myself by saying this, because it depends on how you see PB and if you still believe in it to keep playing. On my more intimate side, I'm just here to bring you nice content and continue in the fandom, because it's one of the nicest fandoms out there.

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

What do you think of book&show!Rhaenyra as characters? And who do you like more?

Hi anon! I've been turning this one over in my mind since you sent it, because I wanted to give it some thought (and anyone who is sick of reading show critical stuff, just skip this one. I don't hate the show, I just think it's interesting and fun to dig a bit deeper). What it comes down to for me is that while book!Rhaenyra is fun, I wish the show had been braver with their depiction of Rhaenyra.

While book!Rhaenyra's motivations are not particularly complex, I feel like I understand her better than show!Rhaenyra. She hasn't heard a prophesy, nor does she feel any real responsibility toward the kingdom to make her second guess the war; her father had made her heir and that was that. Anyone who disagrees can go ahead and die. Her motivations are not particularly noble or self-sacrificing. If anything, it's the opposite. Book!Rhaenyra loves the finer things in life, she's headstrong, and a bit of a mean girl. She goes after what she wants unapologetically, lies through her teeth and never backs down. Book!Rhaenyra never weighs the consequences of her actions, she is vengeful and reactive. She is given terms which would allow her to keep Dragonstone in perpetuity, and unlike her show counterpart, she doesn't even consider them. She says no outright, even before Luke is killed, and replies to tell Aegon that, "I shall have my crown or I shall have his head." And while surely she values the lives of her sons, you get the sense that she never even considers the danger this war puts them in because losing isn't even an option for her. She's going to win because of course she is. And as a reader, you never question her motivations really because, whether you agree with her or not, it is easy to understand that she is fueled by a self-righteous conviction that she will be taking what she feels belongs to her, and woe be to anyone who gets in her way.

Show!Rhaenyra, on the other hand, is more thoughtful. We see this when she's crying at half-dead Viserys' bedside telling him that being heir is a burden, and we see it when she truly considers Otto's peace offer, when she tears up to see the page that Alicent saved from their girlhood. We see it in how she talks to her sons and in the way she apologizes to Alicent at the dinner table. She seems to have some concept of what is at stake, and understands that the throne is a tremendous burden and responsibility, and that the lives of her people are in her hands, and moreover that she does have the option of backing down. When she considers the peace offer, she very clearly states that the prophesy means that she has a responsibility to keep the realm stable, and maybe it is not the best thing for the realm is to throw it into civil war in order to sit the throne at all costs. But all of this, the added sense of awareness of the enormity of the the responsibility and the desire to do right by the realm, while they make her an easier person to support, also makes a lot of her actions that much harder to understand.

One of my main nitpicks with the show as a whole is that the actions of the book characters do not always fit the personalities of the show characters, and so the characterization seems inconsistent. Rhaenyra is aware of the gravity of her position, she learns about the prophesy and the threat to the realm, and then proceeds to have three bastard children (and this is a problem, because it jeopardizes her position. If she gets caught or Corlys/Laenor change their minds and disavow those kids, it's over for her). We have things like Rhaenyra asking for Aemond to be "sharply questioned," which comes from the book, when the episode before she was offering up a dragon and a Jace/Helaena engagement (a show invention, and even though it's not a great deal for the greens if you give it some thought, it reads to the audience as a peace offering). Or you have her telling Daemon she needs his help to fight the greens, and there's this whole conversation about making their enemies believe they're the kind of people who will kill to protect Rhaenyra's claim, but then in episode 8 they have this attempt at reconciliation between Alicent and Rhaenyra and in episode 10 Rhaenyra is going on about how Daemon has "gone to madness, gone to his war." She's seriously entertaining Otto's peace offer (which never happened in the book) while sending her sons off to muster support.

F&B has pretty thin characterization, but what is there comes mostly from the characters' actions and their dialogue. To create a consistent character, the writers needed to start there and ask, what kind of person would say these things and do these things, rather than taking the character they conceived, and trying to shoehorn canon events into that characterization. And the thing is, the show could have created a more fleshed out version of book!Rhaenyra and still made her sympathetic. Take Shiv Roy from Succession, for instance. Shiv is someone who is a victim of misogyny, but also undeniably not the best choice for CEO (neither, of course, are any of her brothers). She's overprivileged and not nearly as experienced or as smart as she thinks she is, she gets in her own way, and in trying to be "one of the boys," she consistently overshoots and alienates actual allies. But she's also a victim of misogyny-- she is expected to provide a woman's touch to delicate matters, but is expected to be as ruthless and cutthroat as the men. Her fuckup brothers are given endless second chances, but Shiv has no such leeway. The specter of motherhood hangs over her constantly-- once she becomes a mother, she will be cast out from the world of men, an asterisk beside her name. And show!Rhaenyra does lean into this a bit (think of Rhaenyra's boobs leaking in the small council, her being stuck giving birth at the moment when leadership is needed in episode 10), but it doesn't commit to the darker side of this. It is not brave enough to make Rhaenyra a bad person as well as a victim.

The thing about Succession is that the show never asked us to view Shiv as good, or as a better choice than her brothers. It didn't even ask us to find her particularly sympathetic, although I certainly do find Shiv sympathetic in some ways. She has a genuine love for her family that makes the moments when she betrays them even more bittersweet, and we can understand her as a pretty bad person while still understanding the ways in which patriarchy screwed her over. In fact, in some ways it was refreshing to see that a woman could be privileged, ruthless and occasionally cruel and still get fucked over (this article is a good breakdown of Shiv-- now imagine a Rhaenyra in this mold!). But central to the difference between HotD and Succession is that Succession doesn't ask us to view the "throne" as a force of good, nor the position as a force of change. The CEO position in Succession is pretty explicitly toxic. Roman refers to the company itself explicitly as a cage. The audience is meant to understand that the person who "wins" is going to be more miserable and more morally compromised as a result. And the Iron Throne is similar. It's a throne made of literal swords! The closer you get to it, the more cursed and compromised you become. But so far, HotD not only insists on casting Rhaenyra as a protagonist, with the addition of the prophesy and the vision of the white hart, winning the throne becomes something she must do for the greater good, her claim something she has been righteously chosen to uphold. And if winning the throne is righteous, then the throne itself must be righteous too. And that's a framing that I don't think can hold up through the Dance, but I fear that the show may have backed itself into a corner by casting Rhaenyra as the correct choice, which inherently frames the throne as something she is right to fight for, no matter the cost to the people, her family, or herself.