#its back to essentially its natural shade

[satuurnos]

dyed my hair back to dark :3

[death---dealer]

someone said they didn't like my writing because it's too descriptive and i said they can get fucked i like my writing and that should be all that matters

It was a quiet evening in the Colony. Nothing more than the chattering and howls from a few Apes as the released exaltations but other than that, hands were signing between lingerances in wicker bowls for food. The usual spread of trout freshly caught that morning from the stream, berries picked from the group of Female Apes you wanted to associate with more closely, but found it difficult at times when you were the only human amongst them. The sun cusped on the horizon that was blistering your sight with the tree line that amplified the rays of light in the right angles, illuminating aspects of your face that to the Chimps in front of you were nothing more than distraughtly ugly to the point of minor distrust.

Not that you could blame them, looks were a two way street and since arriving at the Colony, it was hard to stake out the reservations you had in your mind that they were all evolved and were more suitably placed bi-pedal, expressing more Humanly than yourself at times. The last eight years alone did wonders in conditioning you to think otherwise.

Scooting your eyes to your right, you let a sliver of satisfaction coarse through the forefront of your mind but it was a sensation that did not last and was ultimately eclipsed by a wash of self-deprecation. Sure, you’d only recently found your place here amongst them all, choosing to eat with Lake, River Blue Eyes and Ash during the bustle of the evening meal, never making it early enough to join during the meal that was shared before the Sun made its presence against the horizon at dawn. Mainly Lake as you had been instructed by Caesar that she would be your essential guide to learn the ways of how they lived.

The way that they ate was one of those things that did not come naturally to you. Sharpened canines tumultuously carding themselves out of their gummy enclosures and tearing away at the fish meat and stripping it away from the tiny bones, intricate to watch as if it were ceremonious and it left you feeling less than adequate that you had to tear the meat with your fingers instead. Tentative chews were followed with a shiver of primal fear around the edges of your brain that you needed to run. Forget your meal, forget the safety here that had been so generously offered by the Ape King and take off.

There was nothing stopping them from doing the same to you as the roasted fish, there was nothing stopping them from taking you by the neck and trudging a mouth against the more delicate flesh against your pulsing jugular and taking what they rightfully felt inclined to, blood shading down your neck, tracing around your collarbones as the vein was torn away from your body---

Lake… You tried to pull your mind back into focus. Lake had shown you things that revolved around the daily in-and-outs of Colony life, including and not excelling in… Their choice of language. Your gaze was fluttering between the three sets of hands in front of you, their fingers long, stocky and even in the bustling firelight provided by the communal fire, it was hard to deduce what was being said as you clutched your wickered bowl of fish bones, wiped clean by your hunger, against your stomach which felt bustled with anxiety.

You smiled when they chortled in amusement, you nodded in agreement when they did but conversationally, it was difficult to keep up or contribute and that in and of itself left you feeling more than isolated against the slaten rock that provided the safety shield for the Colony itself. There was always the concept of speaking, you knew that. It was immature to think otherwise when you had been spoken to before but it felt sparsely used amongst the younger Apes who never had any reason to verbalize.

It was easier to sign.

It was an isolating existence you found yourself in regardless, feeling at times like the Colony’s perimeter was nothing more than a gilded cage of protection gifted to you by their leader. By… Caesar. Drawing a deep breath in, you sat your finished bowl to the side and allowed your eyes once again scan the setting sun off in the distance, forgetting for a moment the circumstances of what brought you to the moment you were so blessed to be living in.

The hues of orange that had bustled there at the beginning of your evening meal were tainted now, drawing down into harder pinks and purples as the Sun began its wave goodbye before circling down the skyline. At least you were alive; most of the Humans you had seen in the last eight years were either hostile enough to drive you away or were trying to form radical parties against the Apes.

Either way, you felt like staying with them would get you killed and it was just happenstance that you stumbled, quite literally, onto your knees in front of the Hunting Party that alloted the presence of a crazed and hateful Bonobo who looked at you with one milky stare and one that captivated nothing but despise, two young Chimpanzees which you now knew were Ash and Blue Eyes. And two stockier Chimps - Rocket, fur thinned and skin exposed to the chill of the Pacific air that drifted in and… Their King.

You’d heard stories, sure. Most of the Humans in the area had heard about it like it was nothing more than an everyday occurrence to recall and recollect, you had all seen it on TV during the seemingly Chess game of the Rise and then lived through the aftermath as the Flu wiped out every pleasure that Humanity catered to. It was word of mouth, it felt like it was hard against the shell of your ear, whispered to you in the dead silence by Caesar himself, alone in your hut. The only semblance of verbalization you felt struck by even though it was just your imagination.

As you paced your stare around the Apes, you watched them. Bonobos… Orangutans, Gorillas and Chimpanzees all painted into each other like a fine piece of art, cliqued into families who enjoyed meals together, there was no way to deny your train of thought the simpler pleasures of thinking about him.

Caesar was overpowering in presence alone, a lick of shock radiating and splintering against your spine at the lack of warmth the fire provided you as he came rounding in front of you. Even his gait, strong and powerful, caused your eyes to look elsewhere, focusing again on the distance. The shuffling of the trees with a minor breeze, the crisp sound of water running against the landscape.

‘Cae..sar.’ You butchered a sign out, simple enough as it was but even his name felt incorrect to your fingers as you dropped your hand from your jaw back into your lap to play your fingers against each other.

There was something signed in return, your fingertips urging themselves to follow suit as if you were going to non-verbally answer whatever was said in silence. The way that Caesar held his hands so tightly to his core, the muscles below his fur seemed to rip and the tips of his coat that tapered onto the back of his hands into the darkened skin that seeped against his knuckles was alluring enough to fixate on.

Blinking out of that, you tilted your head and glanced up at him only briefly before you choked a response out, “I-I can’t understand you when you sign that fast.”

Caesar lacked momentum as your words processed in his mind. Brashedly, he asked in a baritone that scratched at the incessant part of your mind that yearned for communication, “You do… Not speak to them.”

“Well…” Swallowing hard, you nodded in agreement there and tried to shove the notion out of your head that you were being watched by him often enough for that detail to come to light. “They talk really fast, and over each other I can’t keep up sometimes---” It was hard to ignore that you felt like an inconvenience to them, especially the way that Caesar huffed at your incantation.

“Has… Lake not been teaching you?”

“She’s a great teacher!” You were quick to compliment, never one to disappoint as you calmed your fluttering heart, forcing your mind into action as you had risen slightly from your chosen seat. Cold rock seared through your tactical pants and into the back of your thighs as you looked down at your own folded hands.. “I just… Haven’t been doing this since birth, y’know…? I can only learn so fast. I feel like talking sometimes bothers them so I stay quiet.”

“Takes time… to learn.”

“I barely even know how to sign your name.”

That was meant as a joke but Caesar remained stagnant and quiet in front of you. If it was funny, your mind running away from itself at the lack of camaraderie you had with anyone, he wasn’t one to show it as he looked off into the distance, mimicking the way that you had been in a bid to avoid eye contact in the first place.

He was not avoiding, his breathing was calmed and relaxed compared to your own which felt smoldering against your ribs as if you were being held under water. In the light that was fading from the Sun, his fur appeared a darkened shade of black though in lighter aspects, it appeared brown and there was a strange admittance in your own self that you had been watching him enough to know such a minute detail. Chalking it up simply to the fact that you didn't speak during meals and barely found any friends due to that, you resulted in admiring them instead.

For all you knew, there was a softened exhale from your mouth at the lack of understanding in yourself as to why you found Caesar so appealing in the first place, the fur detail you knew could have been true for all of them and not just… Caesar…

Attention was hard on your movement as you raised your right hand, forming into a ‘C’ shape near the tip of your jaw, your mouth contorting into an awkward half smile of depreciation as green and golden irises flickered along your expression.. Your fingernails tickled at the skin there and left it feeling aflame as you clarified for him.

“Caesar.” The action was tightened, your fingers unsure of themselves as you finally scraped up enough courage to look up at the large Ape in front of you. Your fingers placed harder against your jawline to the point where it felt like you were able to feel the uncut edges of your bones below the flesh. “Caesar.”

It was a flurried moment- your mouth falling open as the Ape King who superseded any speculations about him from the stories you had heard, raised his arm in a mirrored fashion to yours. The position of Caesar’s bent arm felt strikingly intimidating, his bicep flexing the tearing muscles below that could surely aid in ripping your throat out if he posed you as a threat. Instead though as you pushed aside the primal fear--- You were studious in how his hand curved into a loosened ‘C’ as if it were second nature to him. Not near his protruding jaw like yours had been.

Closer… Closer to… The flames of the torches that surrounded and kept the Colony alight shifted his eye color into capsules of orange, your throat tightening at the way he stared down at you. His positioned fingers, entrancing in their own right as they danced between darkened fur along his thick wrists, lighter colored around his knuckles and darkened along the palms, it appeared like splattered water color, they were against the side of his face, temple being kissed lightly by the backs of his fingers.

Radical fear seemed to leave the split second you made eye contact, breathlessly, you let your mouth open at the lack of imposition or fully wrought scare tactics that you thought his stare would be full of. Instead... They were... Making you uncomfortable with how Human they were. If you were not aware that you were in front of an Ape... A Chimpanzee who was standing strongly on his two feet, stanced hardened against the slick rock of the cliff that dragged adjacently to the kiss of the Suns light, you'd have sworn that he was Human. That he was... Just like you... Full of… Curiosity... Understanding. As if he were aware that everyone starts somewhere and you had only been in the Colony for a month now.

It felt like he stayed in position for hours, peering down at you from beneath the hardened brow line and it was miraculous that you were even able to make out the detailing of his expanding and disappearing irises as they were casted away by the darkness of his pupils.

“Caesar.” Finally! He spoke, the hackles lining his collarbones bristling as you shifted your body to mime him once more, your heart racing itself to the back of your esophagus as the older Chimp maintained the eye contact that he sought for. Something--- Anything for a connection to the Human that he allowed refuge in the Colony.

“Caesar.” The tone you used was breathless, it felt like everything had been rocked right out of you from the intensity of connection just made. Floating your hand near your eye, you tugged a piece of your hair back and smiled slightly, cursing to the Heavens that the fire in front of you was enough of an excuse for the sure reddening of your cheeks at the one-on-one lesson. “Thank you, I was too close to my jaw before.”

“Will get… Maurice to help you learn. Better teacher than… Lake or… Myself.”

There was no argument to be made as Caesar locked stares with you once more; your heart churned from the top of your throat and back down, passed its home in your rib cage and into your stomach at the intimacy it felt cased in.

“T-Thank you!” You managed to utter along with the accompanied sign as the Ape King paced away from you, one more casted glance thrown over his shoulder as you made the sign for his name once more, this time, to yourself.

And without a word to anyone, Caesar narrowed his enviously green and golden speckled eyes on your hand motions, not willing to admit how tantalizingly tempting it felt in the moment to shatter the delicate bones with his own touch. Not out of vicious intent, but out of… Curiosity.

Something that lingered even when he wasn’t around you and something that pestered the inner workings of his mind as if he hadn’t spent the first eight years of his life with Humans to the point where he went through quite a cultural shock when the time came to leave it all behind because there was a deeply ingrained part of himself that wanted to believe he was not Ape, that he was Human… In you, the way that he studied as he climbed to the perch high above the seats of the rest of the Colony, Caesar… Saw himself. And he liked… the way you signed his name.

[monstersdownthepath]

Herald of Norgorber: The Stabbing Beast

CR 15

Neutral Evil Huge Outsider

Inner Sea Gods, pg. 300 (image from Adventure Path: Agents of Edgewatch: Assault on Hunting Lodge Seven, pg. 85)

In a list containing some impressively unimpressive names, it's still no contest: the most unfortunately-named Herald in the pantheon has to be the poor Stabbing Beast (which I will refer to as variations of "Stabs" from now on), Herald of the greediest and most ambitious of all the gods: Norgorber, god of secrets, poison, murder, greed [sound of a scroll unfurling] blackmail, assassins, theft, darkness, alchemy, anonymity, spiders, propaganda--oh whoops forget I said that last one, that hasn't happened yet. Ol' Norby has a major problem with gifting ridiculous names out to his minions, with his other divine servants bearing such titles as Yellowtooth, Secret Shade, and Venomfist, but unfortunately Stabby here draws the shortest straw, as it only does stabbing some of the time and barely qualifies as a beast!

I'm being rough on it, but in truth it's because Stabby has all the personality of a wind-up toy created to perform a single function, ignoring anything irrelevant to its mission to the point it simply bowls over any creature that doesn't get out of its way while it's walking. Any creature that sufficiently annoys it is simply dispatched without a second thought or moment's concern, and any time Stabby has interacted with another living creature through any medium other than violence, it's been to inspire that creature to violence. Whenever Stabby creeps across the world, it's most certainly to either kill someone or destroy something that Norgorber (or one of his powerful followers) wants destroyed, and even its price when called into the universe by mortal worshipers is "kill this specific person for me," presumably as a test.

When it appears, someone will die. As a Herald, it's about as direct and to the point as one could expect from a creature with such a title. But is it any more interesting in combat than any of the other giant scorpions? Let's find out...

Like most scorpions, Stabbington can strike quickly and without warning, often felling its prey before they even realize what's going on. Its Sudden Strike allows it to take a full round of actions during the surprise round rather than just a single standard action, meaning if it appears in the middle of the party via its 3/day Greater Teleport or after sneaking in with its 3/day Invisibility, someone is likely already halfway gone. Stabbington has the usual tricks for a scorpion: a pair of deadly claws (2d6+13) and a lethal stinger (2d6+11) loaded with a Strength-damaging poison to take the bite out of anyone attempting to fight back, or simply to take out the casters who dumped Str.

Each of its natural attacks inflicts a worrying 2d6 bleed damage, adding some additional strain to anyone trying to heal in combat, and worse than that: its claws Grab whatever they hit and Constrict it for an extra 2d6+12 damage every round the grapple isn't broken. Also, do you remember that poison? Because instead of delivering it via a sting, Stabby can use Poison Stream to make a ranged touch attack against a target within 180ft, exposing the victim to its poison while also blinding them for 1d4+1 rounds if they fail the save against it. It can do this either as a ranged attack on its own or by replacing the stinger attack it makes during a Full-Attack, letting it shoot distant targets while it continues to rip apart whoever it has in melee.

And speaking of, it wouldn't be a melee monster if it didn't have some extra ways to keep people from fleeing, would it? It's not any of the usual suspects, either (i.e. Step Up), but one we haven't seen before: the Scorpion Style feat! It can make a single attack as a standard action which forces a DC 20 Fortitude save, and anyone who fails is essentially pinned in place for 2 full rounds, unable to move more than 5ft as the beast tears into them. Even if they could, Combat Reflexes might make them reconsider.

Being the servant of the God Of Underhanded Tactics, Stabbo has some protection against underhanded tactics itself; it's got All-Around Vision and a permanent See Invisibility, +4 to saves versus mind-affecting effects (its base saves are +17/+17/+14!), it is immune to poison, and has Resistance to almost every element; 30 to Acid, 10 to Cold, Fire, and Electricity. Capping it all off is the laughably-easy-to-bypass DR 10/Good and Magic, and the much less easily-bypassed 26 Spell Resistance, making this a bug that's still quite tough to squash! It's got Deflect Arrows as a bonus feat to swat aside the first ranged attack made against it each round to further frustrate enemies trying to keep their distance (enemies which are likely contending with its blinding poison). Also, you can't really gum it down with summons or extra bodies; its Murderers Reward grants it 2d6 temporary HP each time it brings a victim to 0 HP, or 3d6 if its attack kills the target, and this ability has no cooldown or per-day restriction, only the minor downside that the temp HP doesn't stack with itself and cannot grant Stabbo more HP than the victim's max HP stat (so it cannot, say, sting flies out of the air to suddenly regenerate a handful of HP).

We haven't even really covered its spells yet, have we? Most of them aren't going to be immediately useful to it (with one--Keen Edge--being outright worthless to the Herald itself), but with a bit of creative thinking from the DM, it can go from an overt mass-murderer to a stealthy assassin as easily as Norgorber swaps from Father Skinsaw to the Reaper of Reputation. Of course, this mostly relies on the other half of Stabitha's statblock, the half where it's a Medium-sized humanoid.

Yes, this horror isn't always a horror! Stabathan can freely shift from a Huge scorpion to a Medium assassin and back as needed, its fierce twin claws replaced by a pair of +1 Keen Short Swords it can make upwards to five attacks with each round for 1d6+4 damage. It lacks both the reach and the sheer crushing power of its scorpion claws in this form and its sting attack (which it retains) is reduced to 1d6+4 damage, but in return it swords have a 17-20 critical hit rate and almost three times as many attacks, making its humanoid form better at sustained damage than burst damage, especially since it still inflicts bleed with ALL of its attacks... and of course, utilizing its variety of carried poisons to coat its blades.

The primary use for its humanoid form, however, is stealth. A 16-foot-long scorpion isn't exactly subtle, but Stabbity's human form can easily utilize its +32 Stealth modifier to go wherever it needs to, and more easily use its various espionage-focused spell-likes to its advantage. An at-will Charm Person and 3/day Suggestion isn't especially useful to the scorpion, but infinitely useful to the human to get it into wherever it needs to go. Its at-will Poison is less effective than its claws and its own venom, but useful for giving a target a casual pat on the back and watching them collapse dead on the floor 30 seconds later. Similarly, an at-will Absorbing Touch isn't especially useful for the scorpion but allows the human shape to sneak weapons into places they aren't allowed, steal valuables, hide important documents, or any number of other useful tricks. Between False Alibi and Modify Memory at 3/day each, Stabbity can shape the minds of any witnesses to its crimes, either erasing them entirely or making the victims think they did it.

There is only one flaw in Stabamillion's disguise: Its humanoid form is a muscular, armored, masculine entity. This, alongside many of its other weaknesses, is easily rectified by a very powerful at-will: Alchemical Allocation. This spell alone changes the beast's abilities quite drastically, allowing it to essentially use any potion it obtains an infinite number of times. It has no built-in healing, but that doesn't matter if it can just drink a Potion of Cure Moderate Wounds over and over. It can only take one alternate shape, but a Potion of Disguise Self may as well be a Hat of Disguise. It has no climb speed for... some reason, but a Potion of Climbing easily rectifies this. And let's not get into what an endlessly-usable Potion of Haste can do...

Sometimes, it's the smallest things that make the biggest difference! Be it a single spell, a single line of text, or a single stab in the ribs with a poisoned knife. And then another. And then four more, just to be sure.

You can read more about it here.

[watchnrant]

Agatha All Along Episode 8: Easter Eggs & References

Rio’s Green Crown – Secrets and Symbolism of the Witches’ Crowns

The introduction of Rio’s green crown in Agatha All Along takes us deeper into the hidden, intricate language of magic in the MCU. Crowns aren’t just fancy accessories here; they’re like a magical badge of honor, whispering of power, hierarchy, and elemental essence. So far, we’ve seen three colors that definitely mean something more than just fashion-forward witchcraft:

Green for Earth (Rio): With its verdant shade, Rio’s crown could signify an intimate connection to earth magic—a form of power rooted in the physical world, healing, and the natural balance. This aligns with Rio’s characterization as both a guiding and exacting force, wielding a magic that’s as restorative as it is relentless. Her role as an enforcer of life’s cycles suggests she’s grounded in sustaining the magical world’s natural order, holding life and death in delicate balance.

Red for Chaos (Wanda/Scarlet Witch): The red crown embodies chaos, a force that defies predictability and wields the raw power to alter reality itself. Wanda’s crown reinforces her as a disruptor—a rare breed of magic user who shapes and bends existence. This chaotic energy contrasts with Rio’s steadying earth magic, placing Wanda in a realm of unpredictability that other witches may fear, envy, or even revere. Hers is a magic that’s volatile, the element that unhinges the ordered universe.

Blue for Spirit/Reality (Evanora, now Billy): Evanora’s blue crown, which has passed to Wiccan (Billy Maximoff), hints at an ethereal and introspective power. Blue suggests a connection to spirit and the intangible, reaching into realms of consciousness and transcendence. For Billy, this could symbolize his potential to wield reality-bending powers in ways that are cerebral, meditative, and spiritual. As his journey continues, the blue crown might signal his path toward becoming the Demiurge—a being with the power to mold reality but tempered by insight and wisdom.

Crowns as Magical Hierarchy and Balance

Could it be that each of these crowns actually holds a critical piece of the magical puzzle? Here’s the theory: these crowns symbolize fundamental forces—earth, chaos, spirit—striking a delicate cosmic balance. Witchcraft, in this view, isn’t some hodgepodge of spells and power struggles; it’s an intricate system where each crown designates an essential role. Think of these magical headpieces as more than just bedazzled adornments; they’re the hidden blueprint of the power structure. Who wears what crown may reveal how power flows in their world, shaping everything from who holds sway to how magic itself manifests.

Agatha Was the Culprit Behind Binding Jennifer’s Magic

The Past Always Comes Back Around

In Episode 8 of Agatha All Along, we’re hit with a twist that’s been brewing for centuries: Agatha herself unknowingly set the stage for Jennifer’s magical binding. Turns out, a century ago, Agatha struck a deal with a Boston doctor, selling a binding spell that’s kept Jennifer’s powers locked away for decades. This revelation taps into Agatha’s past as a “witch-for-hire,” exposing how her morally grey business choices ripple across time in ways even she couldn’t foresee. Jennifer reclaiming her power isn’t just a personal victory—it’s a stark reminder that Agatha’s past, with all its transactions and compromises, holds lasting consequences that won’t stay buried.

The whole setup mirrors Agatha’s role in WandaVision, where her meddling led to facing her own share of fallout. But in Agatha All Along, Jennifer’s journey digs into themes of autonomy and freedom from old bonds, marking a transformative path to reclaim her magic. Here’s a closer look at what this scene unpacks:

Themes of Power, Binding, and Liberation

The Binding Spell as a Metaphor: Jennifer’s binding isn’t just some ancient spell—it’s a metaphor for societal chains, especially those placed on women who dared to stand out. Agatha’s stint as a “witch-for-hire” feeds into this narrative, framing Jennifer’s journey to break free as a powerful statement on autonomy and resilience.

Redemption and Reclamation: Haunted by past losses, Jennifer sees breaking the binding as a form of redemption, a way to honor those she couldn’t save. Her unbinding ritual symbolizes a deeper mission to reclaim herself and the memories of her past.

Symbolism of the Road

The Road as Transformation: The phrase “The Road gave her what she was missing” goes beyond a physical journey; it represents Jennifer’s personal transformation. In storytelling, roads often signify self-discovery, and here, “The Road” becomes Jennifer’s path to inner freedom.

Character Dynamics and Conflicted Relationships

Jennifer and Agatha’s Complex Bond: The tension between Jennifer and Agatha runs deep, charged with betrayal and a shared struggle against societal pressures. Agatha’s remarks about the 1920s and “the patriarchy’s orders” hint at her own complicated relationship with these systems, adding layers to their dynamic.

Identity, Self-Worth, and Jennifer’s Stand

Identity Crisis and Empowerment: Realizing her life has been governed by a binding spell, Jennifer faces a profound crisis. Her line, “if that’s true, that means I’ve wasted the last century of my life,” hits home for anyone who’s built their self-worth around something they couldn’t control.

Empowerment Through Affirmation: Jennifer’s mantra, “You hold nothing,” is more than just words—it’s a spell of self-liberation, a purging of years of external control. With every chant, she sheds layers of doubt and fear, culminating in a powerful release of her true self.

Existential and Mystical Undertones

Cosmic Design of Her Journey: The line “The Road gave her what she was missing” suggests a cosmic resonance to Jennifer’s path, as if her struggles were always leading her to this moment. It adds an existential weight to her journey, framing her transformation as part of a greater design.

Liberation Beyond Reality: Jennifer’s disappearance at the end hints at something beyond mere escape—it feels like transcendence. Her repeated line, “You hold nothing,” serves as a final act of self-definition, freeing her from the bonds of the physical world.

Historical and Cultural Subtext

Critique of Historical Oppression: Agatha’s role in binding Jennifer a century ago resonates with the cultural pressures of the time. Her complicity in such oppressive mechanisms highlights the complexity of navigating power within a patriarchal system, giving historical weight to her conflict with Jennifer.

This scene serves as a reminder of how deeply ingrained societal structures can limit and define people, often without their awareness. Jennifer’s evolution from a bound figure to a liberated individual encapsulates a powerful journey of reclaiming identity and autonomy, leaving us with lingering questions about freedom, self-worth, and the cost of liberation. Through this complex relationship, the episode critiques systems of control, celebrates resilience, and explores the transformative power of self-empowerment.

Lights Out: The Countdown Intensifies

Every Flicker Signals the Clock is Ticking

Another trial, another ticking clock—but this time, it’s overhead grow lights doing the countdown work. In Agatha All Along Episode 8, the stakes are dialed up with each panel of ceiling lights flickering off as time slips away. It’s a fresh spin on the series’ signature countdown devices, building on past episodes where we’ve seen a kitchen timer, a metronome, a retro Casio G-Shock, and an hourglass. This time, instead of hearing the seconds slip away, we see it—making the tension even more visceral.

The grow lights add an eerie atmosphere that ramps up the suspense with each flicker, reminding us that in Agatha’s realm, time is as powerful as any spell. Every dimming panel adds another layer of urgency, tying the trials together and adding to the overall sense of looming danger. This creative approach to a countdown isn’t just functional—it’s a reminder that, in this world of magic and mystery, every second matters. It’s sharp, immersive, and keeps us right on the edge of our seats.

White & Blue Shoes For Tommy

A Nod to Speed’s Color Scheme

In a chilling, gut-punch of a scene, Agatha walks Billy down memory lane, taking him back to those final, innocent moments with Tommy in Westview when they were just ten. It’s a quiet memory—a heartbeat in time before everything spiraled out of control. Billy clings to the rhythm of Tommy’s breath as they drifted to sleep, a memory so raw and real that Agatha taps into it to help Billy focus his power, channeling enough energy to bring Tommy back.

As the memory intensifies, Agatha pushes Billy to drown out the present noise, guiding him back to a world already in ruins. She whispers about lost souls—kids stuck in their own kind of purgatory, barely hanging on. Billy, caught in this emotional storm, senses a young boy—abandoned and drifting—shoved into a pool in a cruel prank, clinging to life. The boy’s loneliness pierces Billy, and he mutters, “He has no one to love him.” It’s a line that cuts deep, a nod to Tommy’s comic origins as Tommy Shepherd, who grew up with abandonment and the harsh reality of juvie life.

And here’s the twist: Billy, feeling the weight of his choice, turns to Agatha, asking, “Am I killing this boy so my brother can live?” Agatha’s response is as haunting as it gets: “No, Billy. Sometimes, boys die.”

For the eagle-eyed fans, the boy’s gray and blue shoes are a hidden gem—a visual nod to Tommy’s future as Speed, echoing his Young Avengers colors. It’s a subtle, spine-tingling homage to Tommy’s destiny, a reminder that every choice in this world carries a price, especially when it’s between two brothers separated by fate. This moment is layered with intensity, honoring Tommy’s journey while underscoring the brutal stakes that hang over every decision.

Agatha’s Dandelion Seed in the Locket

Episode 8 Plants the Seeds of Resilience and Renewal

In Episode 8 of Agatha All Along, there’s a deeply moving moment where Agatha finds a hidden dandelion seed nestled behind a lock of her son’s hair in her locket. It’s more than just a sentimental token—the seed represents hope, resilience, and a quiet determination that’s become Agatha’s core. With a single tear, she plants it in a crack in the floor, embracing themes of survival and transformation that define her journey.

Throughout the series, the dandelion has been Agatha’s quiet symbol, embodying the beauty of life’s small, unbreakable moments. By planting the seed, she’s making a choice to nurture and protect what she loves, even in the face of grief and loss. This act marks a turning point for her character, showing that she’s ready to grow beyond past pain while holding onto the memories that shaped her. In Episode 9, we’ll see Agatha and her son Nicky blowing dandelions together—a poignant reminder of wishes, innocence, and the fleeting yet powerful nature of memory.

This scene nails Agatha’s journey, loaded with layers of symbolism that cut straight to the heart of her character:

Memory and Nostalgia: Agatha’s locket, hiding that tiny dandelion seed, holds memories of love and loss. It’s her link to the past—a fragile reminder of moments she can’t release and a nod to the delicate, lasting impact of memories.

Isolation and Desperation: Agatha’s dim, solitary surroundings heighten the contrast between her despair and the life symbolized by the dandelion seed, amplifying her yearning for renewal.

Loss and Mourning: Her single tear as she plants the seed isn’t just emotional release—it’s her grief given form, a moment of vulnerability that feels as raw as it is transformative. It’s that crucial step in her journey, showing she’s ready to face the past to make way for a future.

Resilience and Survival: The dandelion isn’t your average flower; it’s a symbol of grit and survival in the toughest places. Just like Agatha, it embodies endurance, showing that even in the harshest environments, there’s strength to be found.

Transformation and Growth: As the seed takes root, it mirrors Agatha’s journey from darkness to a spark of light. It’s her emotional rebirth, an embodiment of her evolution, and a sign of the hope she’s starting to feel for what’s ahead.

This scene says it all about Agatha’s path, showing us that even in the bleakest times, there’s always a spark of resilience that can lead to growth, proving the strength in simplicity.

Billy Maximoff’s Wiccan Debut: Stepping Into His Destiny

A Moment of Power, Legacy, and Transformation

In the intense final moments of Agatha All Along Episode 8, Agatha finds herself face-to-face with Rio, the embodiment of Death, on her own rooftop. Just when it looks like the scales are tipping against her, Billy makes his entrance, fully suited up in the red-and-blue Wiccan attire that fans know from the comics. Gone is the Halloween costume from WandaVision—this is Billy in his true form, embracing every ounce of his power and legacy as Wiccan.

This isn’t just a costume reveal; it’s a rite of passage. Billy stepping into his Wiccan gear marks his transformation from a young sorcerer under Agatha’s wing to a powerful, self-assured figure, ready to stand as her equal. His costume is the final touch in his journey along the Witches’ Road, embodying the power, legacy, and independence he’s claimed for himself. For fans, this moment is electric—it’s the Wiccan we’ve been waiting for, fully realized and finally stepping into his place in the mystical world.

Agatha’s Return to Her Witchy Wardrobe: Power, Sacrifice, and Redemption

A Look That Defines Her Evolution

Just as Billy channels his power into Agatha, we see her snap back into her full magical form, complete with that dark, layered costume from the WandaVision finale—the outfit that embodies Agatha Harkness at peak strength. But let’s be clear, this isn’t just any wardrobe change; it’s Agatha reclaiming her identity as a witch, embracing the legacy and raw power that have defined her.

This return to her witch’s robes goes deeper than just the look; it’s a full-circle moment and a symbol of the stakes she’s ready to face. Dressed in her signature dark attire, Agatha makes the ultimate sacrifice, putting herself between Billy and Rio, the embodiment of Death, who demands a soul to restore balance. In stepping back into this costume, Agatha accepts everything she’s been and the consequences of her choices. Her final act, dressed as the powerful, unapologetic Agatha we met before, closes out her arc from self-serving sorceress to a mentor willing to sacrifice it all for Wiccan’s future. This visual is loaded with meaning, showing us just how far she’s come and leaving a lasting impact for fans who’ve been rooting for her transformation all along.

Kiss of Death… Literally

A Defiant Goodbye That Redefines Sacrifice

In a jaw-dropping turn, Agatha’s “Kiss of Death” with Rio flips the classic phrase into something far more powerful. When Billy brings up her son, Nicholas, it reignites Agatha’s maternal instinct, and she decides in that moment to sacrifice herself for Billy, defying Rio—Death itself—to keep him safe. With a fierce resolve, Agatha turns and plants a kiss on Rio, accepting her fate while bending it to her will. This isn’t just a goodbye; it’s an ultimate act of rebellion, transforming the “Kiss of Death” from a fatal end into a bittersweet choice powered by the love she once had for Nicholas, now directed at Billy.

This moment nails the episode’s themes of sacrifice and the complexities of motherhood, showing how deeply loss and love are woven into Agatha’s journey. Her decision to face Death head-on for another harks back to the tragic hero’s redemptive sacrifice, and she leaves her locket with Billy as a final “mother’s kiss”—a symbolic parting gift that ties him to her legacy. It’s an emotional, layered move that packs a punch, leaving fans with a lasting image of Agatha’s transformation and what she’s willing to give for those she loves.

Billy’s Departure from Westview Mirrors Wanda’s Farewell

The Legacy of Power and Loss Passed from Mother to Son

Billy’s departure from Westview is a visual callback to Wanda’s own emotional farewell in WandaVision. With hoods pulled up as they walk away, both Maximoffs embody the weight of loss and the heavy responsibility that comes with their powers. This isn’t just a stylistic echo; it’s a powerful symbol of the connection between mother and son, showing how Wanda’s legacy is woven into Billy’s journey. For both, Westview represents a place they tried to protect, yet had to leave behind. Their hoods become symbols of both protection and solitude as they step into unknown futures, fully aware of the isolation that comes with wielding great power.

Earlier, we see another callback as Billy descends to aid Agatha against Rio, paralleling Wanda’s descent after her battle with Agatha in WandaVision. Both hover mid-air, showcasing their mastery over magic and shared instinct to protect. Wanda’s descent was her acceptance of her identity as the Scarlet Witch, while Billy’s descent marks his first steps as Wiccan, driven by duty and love. This mirrored descent emphasizes their command over chaos magic and commitment to wield it responsibly.

This isn’t the first time we’ve seen Billy mirror Wanda. Back in Episode 5, Billy first donned his Wiccan headband, a visual echo of Wanda’s Scarlet Witch crown. While Wanda’s crown marked her acceptance of her full powers, Billy’s headband signifies his own step into his magical destiny. These visual callbacks draw a clear line between mother and son, building a narrative of loss, resilience, and the weight of inherited power. Billy’s path becomes a natural extension of Wanda’s, linking their journeys through blood and the shared burden of chaos magic, uniting them in a legacy of strength, sacrifice, and the delicate balance of power and responsibility.

Billy’s Imagination Brought the Witches’ Road to Life

A Journey Inspired by Childhood Symbols

Billy uncovers a game-changing revelation: he unknowingly created the Witches’ Road using his own powers, crafting a mystical path that’s even “better than he pictured it.” Looking around his room, he spots the familiar elements that inspired this creation—the yellow brick road from The Wizard of Oz, the multicolored trees and leaves, and even a painting of the ocean house from earlier in the series. These seemingly innocent details from his childhood have seeped into his magic, transforming the Witches’ Road into a space that’s both deeply personal and fantastical.

This moment also confirms Lilia’s earlier tarot reading, which hinted at Billy’s power of creation—the ability to “turn his goals into reality.” Her reading foreshadowed Billy’s untapped potential, revealing just how much influence he holds over the world around him. By connecting to the Witches’ Road, Billy isn’t just tapping into his potential as Wiccan; he’s showing a rare power to turn imagination into reality, weaving his inner world into existence in a way that would impress even the most seasoned witches. This journey along the Witches’ Road is more than just a path—it’s a living, breathing reflection of Billy’s creativity, ambition, and immense potential.

[roxtron]

So I wanted to try to make a theory/analysis post on something I've wondered for a while: What the fuck are the Krang made of? Yeah that's literally my intro to this. Can I make smooth transitions? Absolutely not.

So starting out chronologically with their introduction, the majority of their animation shows smooth movements from their tentacles, basically like tentacles irl lmao. But further into that fight scene..

We can see their tentacles also strong enough to double as blades, able to stand up against (and nearly overpower) Leo's swords, and able to stab through Raph's shell. The material isn't exactly consistent in how solid it can be, able to go from the fluid movement of the tentacles, to sharp enough to function as a blade. This leads me to think their flesh is able to shapeshift in some minor ways, especially considering the way the tentacle shifts to become sharper as the Krang's leg is about to stab Leo.

And considering how goopy Krang 2 looks after being.. basically melted by April, it does show that at the very least their natural state of flesh is more fluid. Another interesting detail about this scene, and the way Krang 2 is animated after the attack that sort of feeds into the shapeshifting theory..

Back in the finale we're shown the skull of one of the Krangs. Yet after Krang 2 has her eye melted off, we see no hint of the skull. That could either just be from not wanting to add that much detail into the animation, which to be fair it would've likely given more extra work to animation that's already amazingly detailed as it is. OR- It could be from the flesh melting around the skull to keep it from being exposed. If we can see their bodies practically shift states of matter, and see Krang 3 use his own body to expand the portal, is it that much of a stretch to say they can shift their state of flesh to cover vulnerable parts of their body after being injured?

And another thing this screenshot helps to show, their bodies don't seem to all be made from the same material specifically. Normally I'd assume all the pinks/purples are the same type of flesh but I actually don't think it is. Their tounges specifically are shown to always be sharp, a slightly darker shade with the sort of lines and stripes covering it. Keep this part in mind.

After the Foot Clan get transformed into these creatures, it actually gives us further evidence on how the krang's flesh functions. When possessing humans, the Krang pieces sort of fuse and meld with human flesh. Whether it's adding on pieces, or, like with the stomach here, changing its shape entirely. But notice how they have those additions while still keeping the same colors their skin and bodies used to be.

But when Raph gets possessed? The Krang flesh doesn't fuse with his body at all. It's more of an add-on, especially with the way his arm back there shows the original shape of his hands, while still being covered in the Krang's pink. That, and his body isn't even the same color of pinks either. Some pieces are darker, and some don't even seem to be the same shape. Like I mentioned with the Krang's tounges earlier, I think those spikes on his arms and back are made of that same material. Darker color, lines and stripes, permanently spiked.. Sounds right to me.

Even in this scene, the colors of the tounge seem to match up, a lot of pieces attatched to his body fit into that, maybe that fleshy state inbetween transforming from fluid to solid? His tounge seems to be the only part of those spiked pieces that's able to mimic fluid movements, the rest seems to be solid in place. It definitely seems to be a different type of flesh, considering how the flesh around it seems to part instead of melding together.

As for the Krang's armor.. I was confused about it before but now that I think more about how the Krang themselves are built it's starting to make more sense. Essentially I think there's 3 main components to pay attention to. The darker gray of the chest and shoulderpads seem to be simple armor plates, made of some type of alien metal I assume.

The darkest blacks of the armor seem to just be the base pieces of the suit. I've seen theories it's partially organic, with the way it bleeds black liquid after Leo stabs into it, and honestly, that seems like a really good answer. I'm not sure if it's flesh with the black suit on top of it, or if that dark black with the markings is actually its natural state. (Though, side note, it makes me even more curious HOW they would've aquired or created this armor. Their tech is mostly made of flesh, sure, but with another theory about the Technodrome having a mind of its own, willing to let Donnie merge with it and control the ship.. It does make me wonder if their armor is made from the corpse of another being, or if they simply know how to create and generate flesh, and were able to mold it for their purposes.)

Anyway- The white pieces of the armor seem to be bone to me. What with the head looking like a skull, the tail having bone-structure and being animated that way, less smooth than everything else, jerking around each piece. But here's what makes it confusing, the gloves.

There's a couple scenes where the hand has folds on it. Yet the rest of the arm seems pretty solid, and the material must be solid enough to form claws at the end, so, what the hell is it?? This is what stumps me the most, it seems to be made of fabric and bone at the same time, I really don't understand it. The only real answer I have is that the material is comparable to the base body of the Krang. Flesh that's able to mold between different states, able to take that solid, bone-like appearance, to form claws at the end.. While still being moldable enough it's able to bend and fold like the tentacles can. Potentially, it's mostly solid and bone-like, but the pieces that need to be able to move are more flesh-like. The wrist and hands have more folds because they move more, and tend to get stuck in that state to move with the body, while the plates, spikes, and claws are able to be stuck in their solid states.

I dunno how to write conclusions, but that's most of what I'm able to observe for what the Krang are made of, and why pieces of their body function the way they do. Not only are they futuristic, they're also alien, so it's natural to assume they're just advanced enough to be capable of breaking these rules materials in our world have to stick to.

[genericpuff]

LO Art Analysis (or: A Real Example of Why You Shouldn't Use Multiply for Everything)

I've obviously been spending a lot of time recreating LO art and in that time, I think I've really cracked open some of modern LO's problems with its art. This is a lengthy post so turn on some lo-fi, grab some popcorn and strap in.

One thing in particular that I'm very eager to talk about (and go off about) is Rachel's use of color language and shading.

THERE WILL BE BRIEF FASTPASS PANELS AHEAD IN THIS ANALYSIS. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!

One of the key things that most people seem to agree on when it comes to LO's current art quality is the lack of color language. Back in S1, we had colors that seemed to jump off the page, with gorgeous rendering that created panels that were vast and beautiful to take in. It didn't matter if the anatomy was wonky or if the backgrounds were translated directly from Google Sketchup, the color and compositions made up for its flaws and created unique vignettes that individually contributed to what we found so special about LO back in those days.

That last one especially is still hands-down one of the most well-known and influential LO panels out of the entire series. Many a phone background its graced (my own included, I've literally had this as my phone background for like 3 years now) and it serves as a beautiful standalone example of the mood and emotions LO used to convey. You don't need to know the context of the scene, you don't need to know the characters, the mere posing and color choice alone is enough to invoke a reaction from the viewer. It doesn't even have a lot of shading or final rendering, the composition and texturing is all it needs.

So why does a simple panel like that work, but panels like these don't?

I have such beef with this panel because it does the complete opposite of what the famous Tower 4 panel achieves - it puts on full display everything wrong with LO's current art style, from its character posing to its color language aaaall the way to its final rendering.

First off, the character posing and framing. I finally figured out what RS' male characters have been suffering from lately, and it's a phenomenon that I'm sure many of you will be able to recognize right away.

Seth Macfarlane Syndrome.

You might not watch Family Guy, you might not watch American Dad, or the Cleveland Show, but you'll know exactly what I mean when I talk about Seth MacFarlane Syndrome. It's the stiffness, the lack of movement or bend in joints, the boring posing of characters standing with their arms flatly at their sides and their entire body facing the same direction, eyes unblinking - and when they speak, heads slightly tilting, mouths always being conformed to the same default shapes, while the arms do something random and unrelated to create the illusion of natural movement.

This has been an issue in LO for a while now, incredibly flat posing that lacks any sort of dynamic curvature to it, but it's best exemplified by that Ares panel above because holy shit does he ever look like Stan Smith in it. Boxy shoulders with arms that appear to be WAY too short hanging off the side, elbows flattened, hands straightened out, no natural shaping whatsoever.

But that's not the crux of the issue I want to touch on today.

No, the worst offense of this panel is that it indirectly proves what I've been suspicious of for a while now.

To explain real quick for context, there's this thing in digital art called Blend Modes. It's essentially a basic function in digital art that allows you to change the properties of layers for the purpose of shading, rendering, whatever have you. Most of these Blend Modes are the same across all digital art programs, things like Multiply, Screen, Color Dodge, etc. are all fairly basic tools in the digital artist's toolkit but all have an INCREDIBLY high ceiling of mastery - meaning, blend modes are easy to use on a basic level, but require a lot of skill and understanding of color language to utilize to their full potential. Using them right can transform a passable piece of work into a great one - on the flipside, using them wrong can take a passable piece of work and piss all over it.

The one I want to focus on in this post is Multiply. I use this blend mode myself quite often, it basically 'multiplies' the properties of the layers below it, taking whatever colors are below and 'doubling' them to create darker tones. This makes it a go-to for shading.

But the issue with Multiply is that it often ends up being used when it's not supposed to be. Or rather, people starting out will often use it as a substitute for shading when you'd be better off using your own hand-picked colors. I've got characters with skin tones that I can shade with the same color set to Multiply, zero issues, because the base tone is one that doubles well, it creates a nice rich tone on top that's perfect for shading.

But do you know the one color that DOESN'T multiply well?

Yellow.

Yellow is NOT a color you can just multiply, not without the final result looking flat and almost putrid. Most people will thus recommend you shade yellow with other colors along the same side of the color wheel, including oranges and reds. This is precisely why knowing color theory is such an important skill even in digital art, because using Blend Modes improperly can create flat tones that can ruin a final composition.

Going back to that Ares panel...

Again, I've had this suspicion for a while, especially when looking at panels of Persephone (*pink is ALSO a color that doesn't multiply well)

So I put it to the test. I took the original panel, sampled the yellow, and overlaid it with Multiply to see what I'd get.

Fam.

That putrid deep yellow that I mixed above is literally NEXT DOOR NEIGHBORS WITH WHAT I EYEDROPPED FROM THE PANEL. Copy and paste that and eyedrop it yourself if you want to see it with your own eyes. It's pretty obvious she did the same thing with Hera as well, you can tell her skin tone has been set to multiply and repainted with the same color, same as with her jacket.

They are using Multiply layers for everything as the default. This is not how Multiply is intended to be used - it's lazy shortcutting that's resulting in flat, boring, ugly compositions.

RS has stated herself that she 'changed' how LO is drawn to help 'streamline' the process for her assistants. This isn't streamlining. This is cutting corners.

Streamlining would be having color palettes to refer to during the coloring and shading process. I use them myself for characters that I CAN'T multiply-shade, I literally have characters whose skin tones are too light and yellow-toned for it - using Multiply would wash out their tones and make them look flat and sickly so I have to use a separate color from a different part of the color wheel to shade them (usually a darker tone of red/orange).

Rachel, babe, this isn't streamlining, this is just taking shortcuts to the point of sabotaging your own work. You can't sit there and tell me THAT looks good and is worth the 'streamlining' when panels like THESE used to exist:

Turn off the Multiply layers and color your characters for once, please, I'm begging you. This is such a rookie move for someone who claims to be a professional (and regularly brags about the awards she's won); not to mention a tragic fall from grace because we know Rachel can and has produced better work than this in the past. She knows color language, she knows how to paint, so why is she resorting to shortcuts like this? She has an entire team of people and yet she's still consistently behind enough in her buffer - or just doesn't care enough anymore - that she's resorting to lazy amateur tactics like using Multiply for everything.

And on the off chance that she ever sees this, Rachel, it's not even that hard to use proper colors. You've done it before, you should already have the color palettes available to you.

(P.S. One handy-dandy experiment to tell if your Multiply layers are failing you is the desaturation test. You'll notice that drawings being made primarily with Multiply layers will look a lot 'flatter' when desaturated, because the shading is just the same color on top of itself and 'doubled', there isn't any actual value or depth in the shading itself. These are the exact same panels I showed before, RS' on the left and mine on the right, they've just been desaturated to show the difference that proper color choice can make when defining values and tones in shading!)

[lolanoelle]

You Don’t Own Me

I was listening to You Don’t Own Me by Saygrace when this idea came to me. I hope you enjoy :)

Summary: You are disappointed that Sebastian hasn’t asked you to the Yule Ball yet when none other than Garreth Weasley asks you to accompany him. You are pleased to have a date until you overhear him bragging to his friends that he’s marking you as his.

You sat in the great hall sulking over your breakfast. You had been spending every free moment with Sebastian and there had been no shortage of flirtatious comments between the two of you, yet the Yule ball was right around the corner and he still hadn’t asked you. You never had really pushed the limit of the small flirting between the two of you, but you had still suspected that he might like you enough to ask you to the ball. Then again Sebastian was the type of person who had natural charm, so who’s to say that’s not all it could’ve been. You took a bite of your toast and washed it down with a drink of orange juice when someone had broken your train of thought with a tap on your shoulder. You turn to meet Garreth Weasley.

“Hi Y/N, I was wondering if you had a date to the ball?,” He asked, looking down at you.

“I- No I don’t,” You replied, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“Would you like to go with me?” He asked. You looked up to him in disbelief. You had always been friendly with each other but you didn’t think he would ever essentially ask you on a date.

“Um,.. yeah, sure!,” You say putting a smile on your face. You had no reason you couldn’t go with him and enjoy your time rather than be miserable about Sebastian not making a move.

“Brilliant! Ill see you there! Oh by the way, if you’re into matching, my dress robes have gold accents and I think you would look lovely in gold,” He says, shooting you a wink and walking away. Maybe going with Garreth would be a good change of pace for you. He wasn’t unattractive in the least and he was always kind. Your luck may have been changing.

You ate the rest of your breakfast and made your way to the library where you had planned to meet Sebastian and Ominis to work on your essay for History of Magic. You enter the library and go up the stairs and to a row of seats in the far back corner where you are met with the two boys.

“This is going to be the death of me. I can’t even stay awake in Binn’s class, how does he expect us to write a paper this long.,” Sebastian groaned throwing his head back in frustration.

“It would be easier without the complaining I can tell you that much,” Ominis said back in frustration.

“Having trouble already are we boys?,” You question, joining them.

“It’s hard to concentrate with him whining every few seconds,” Ominis responded.

“I’ll stop whining if you write mine, too,” Sebastian stated, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the blonde man on his right.

“Not a chance,” He replied and you chuckled at the interaction.

“Well you’re in luck, Poppy let me borrow some of her notes. She’s brilliant so we should have no trouble finishing up these papers with her help,” You state, pulling out her notes and setting them in front of you three.

“I need to buy that woman her own puffskein for all that she does for us,” Ominis stated.

“Agreed,” Sebastian replied, taking the notes in his hands and looking over them. He rested his arm on your shoulder and flipped through the pages.

“I’ve actually been meaning to ask her to the ball, maybe a puffskein would help me in that department as well,” Ominis pondered.

“I say you’ve got a good chance regardless Ominis,” You reassured him.

“Do you two have any plans for the ball,” He questioned as his face turned a slight shade of pink.

“Actually, someone did ask me and I agreed to go with him since its only a week away and I didn’t already have a date,” You say looking down at your essay to avoid eye contact with Sebastian.

“Who?!” Sebastian questioned suddenly turning towards you.

“Uh, Garreth actually asked me during breakfast,” you reply scribbling down some more of your essay.

“Weasley?!,” Sebastian looked at you with shock and horror written all over his face.

“I don’t know any other Garreths, do you?” You respond slightly annoyed.

“He’s got to be up to something, he barely talks to you. Why would he ask you to the Yule ball?” Sebastian continued.

“Oh is it so hard to believe that someone would want to go to the ball with me?,” You bite back, getting angrier by the second at his reaction.

“I just cant believe you said yes to that prat,” He quipped back.

“Well I didn’t see anyone else asking me,” You spit out, yanking Poppy’s notes out of his hand and making your way to leave the library. You couldn’t believe his nerve. How dare he question Garreths motives. Did he really see you as so undesirable that he couldn’t believe you had gotten a date? You angrily made your way back to your common room and up to your room. You shut the door and plopped yourself on your bed and started to release tears of anger as you replayed the interaction in your head.

Sebastians POV

Sebastian sat in the library dumbfounded after Y/N stormed out. He knows he may have been a little out of line but how could she be that mad at him over something so trivial as her date to the ball.

“That was smooth,” Ominis said, breaking the silence.

“Oh piss off,” Sebastian replied.

“Don’t start with me. You should have asked her by now if you didn’t want her to go with anyone else,” Ominis stated matter-o-factly.

“Well now that I know she said yes to the likes of Weasley, she would have definitely said no to me. We’re the complete opposite,” Sebastian retorted.

“She would have said yes to you in a heartbeat Sebastian. You two are nearly inseparable and you’re constantly flirting with each other. It takes everything in me not to throw up during your conversations.,” Ominis replied.

“Don’t be so dramatic. So I tease her a little bit and she teases back. That in no way guarantees that she would have said yes if I asked her to the ball,” Sebastian replied to his friend.

“I’m blind, not deaf. You two are disgustingly head over heals for each other. It’s your own fault you waited this long. And since I don’t want to follow in your footsteps, I am going to go track Poppy down and see if she wants to accompany me,” Ominis said gathering his things and leaving Sebastian in the library by himself. Sebastian replayed the conversation with you in his head a couple of times and mentally kicked himself. He let out a frustrated sigh and knew that he owed you an apology for being such an prick. He got up himself and made his way to his own common room. He decided he would go to the undercroft after dinner, knowing that you would likely go there out of habit afterwards.

Y/N’s POV

You had just finished dinner and made the familiar route to the undercroft. You wanted to let out some steam and decided that the practice dummy would do for now. You entered and starting casting spells at the dummy until it was on the ground, looking worse for wear. You stood there looking down at it when you heard the entrance open and turned around to meet Sebastian. He made his way over to you slowly.

“I’m so sorry Y/N. I never should have said those things to you in the library. Any guy would be lucky to go the the Yule ball with you.,” He said, holding out a box of exploding bon bons as a peace offering.

“If you hadn’t brought the bon bons, I wouldn’t have forgiven you,” You say taking the treat from him. You couldn’t stay mad at him when he looked at you with those dreamy eyes. You hated how fast he could win you over.

“Well I’m glad I made the trip to Honeydukes since they worked in my favor,” He chuckled. You sat on the ground and opened them up and offered him one as he sat next to you. You spent the rest of the afternoon talking and practicing your dueling with each other until you were both tired. You mutually decide to make your way to bed for the night and resume your work on your History of Magic essay in the morning. As you exited the undercroft, you heard a booming voice from around the corner.

“No one is going to be able to take their eyes off of me at the ball with the arm candy I’ll have. I’ll be marking her as mine and everyone will be jealous that I got to the notorious Y/N before they did. I’ll be the talk of the ball,” Garreth bragged to his group of friends rather proudly. You stop in your tracks and look at Sebastian. You were seething with anger. You listened to him go on and he seemed to see you as an object rather than a person. You were about to step around the corner and make your presence known when Sebastian stopped you. You could hear Garreths voice trailing away and you looked at Sebastian with an angry look. As soon as he was out of earshot you started on a rant.

“Arm candy?!? And marking me as his?!! Who does he think he his?!,” You say as your face heats up in frustration.

“He’s such a git. I should kick his teeth in,” Sebastian said with a disgusted look on his face.

“Well I guess you were right in a way, he did have an ulterior motive to asking me to the ball. I guess I don’t have a date.,” You responded, obviously hurt.

“Well, this might be bad timing, but I actually did want to ask you myself if you would go with me,” Sebastian said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the confession. Your furrowed brows relaxed and a smile broke out on your face.

“Of course I’ll go with you dummy, that’s what I wanted in the first place,” You said, looking down at your hands nervously.

“Then I guess its a date,” He said shyly. You felt giddy at the idea. Then Garreth came tumbling back into your mind.

“I guess I better break the news to the slimy bastard,” You say.

“Actually, don’t. Act as if everything’s fine. He wanted to put on a show at the ball, lets put on a show, except it will be as his expense,” Sebastian stated with a smirk on his face. You couldn’t refuse him and decided to go along with his plan.

Over the next week, you had kept in touch with Garreth and assured him that your plan was still in place. In his mind, you were wearing a gold ball gown and meeting him in the great hall to accompany him. He had bragged to everyone about his date to the dance. You had even had girls come up to you gushing about how cute of a couple you and him would make. None of them knew what you really had in store.

The Yule Ball was tonight and you were getting ready. You had decided on a silk sage green gown that would complement Sebastians dress robes nicely. It hugged your figured at the top and slightly flared out at the bottom. It was completely different than the dress you had described to Garreth. Your thoughts then moved to Sebastian and the reaction he would have to your dress. You were giddy at the idea of being Sebastian’s companion for the night. You were also nervous as the same thought. You had had feelings for him since you met him in your fifth year and were finally getting the shot you had wanted. You made your way to the great hall and found Sebastian outside waiting on you. When his eyes met you, they visibly widened.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” He said staring down at you. You blushed at his comment.

“You look pretty good yourself,” You responded as he held out his arm to link with yours. You obliged and made your way into the great hall.

“Sallow, who’s the unlucky woman to be attending with you,” Weasley himself commented as you both walked in. He looked over at you and his eyes looked like they were going to shoot out of his head. ,” What are you doing with him Y/N”

“Turns out Sebastian needed some arm candy of his own and I thought what kind of friend would I be if I denied him that honor. I mean with me on his arm, he’ll be the talk of the ball, right Garreth?,” you respond smirking. His face turned bright red, obviously embarrassed. His friends behind him looked guilty as well and you walked past them chuckling with Sebastian.

Throughout the evening, you and Sebastian danced and had a magnificent time. They had been playing more upbeat music so that everyone could get out their pent up excitement for the dance. You had both decided to take a break and sat down to get a drink. You were sitting at a table with Ominis and Poppy and you were all laughing together. The last song of the night was announced and the band switched to a slow tempo. Ominis and Poppy got up to dance together. Sebastian stood up beside you and your heart started beating a little faster.

“May I have this dance?,” He asked smiling widely, holding out his hand. You graciously accepted and stood up to join him. You were closer than you had been all night and you were sure that Sebastian could hear your racing heartbeat from your nerves.

“I’m so glad Garreth messed up his chance with you so I could bring you instead,” He whispered looking down at you.

“I am, too,” You responded quietly looking into his eyes. He took your joined hands and placed them on his chest, his other one still on your waist and your other on his shoulder.

“I’m just sorry it took me this long at all to take you on a date,” He confessed, watching for your reaction.

“I almost didn’t think you felt the same way honestly,” You responded.

“Oh sweetheart,” He said reaching up to brush some hair behind your ear,” How could I not.”

His hand rested on your cheek and your ran your hand from his shoulder to the back of his hair. You both glanced down to each others lips and slowly leaned in, meeting in the middle to connect your lips. This was the perfect ending to the night that you had wanted for a while now. You couldn’t be happier at the events that had played out.

*The dress below is the dress I imagine Y/N wearing to the ball.

[librawritesstuff]

Here in America: Financial Times review

A little way into Here in America, one character is recalling the theatre technique of “affective memory”: “It’s called ‘the magic if’. What you’d do if it was you.”

Like much in David Edgar’s new play about Arthur Miller and Elia Kazan, it’s not an idle reference. What you would do if it were you is a question that rolls through so many of Miller’s plays — All My Sons, A View from the Bridge, Death of a Salesman — as the protagonists grapple with integrity and the battle between principle and personal interest. Miller’s genius was that he could show you why someone might make the wrong choice. That question also drives Edgar’s drama, which finds both Miller, and his legendary director Kazan, in a similarly agonising position. “What would you do?” they essentially ask of each other — and of the audience.

Edgar focuses on 1952 and a critical meeting between the writer and director at the latter’s home in Connecticut. Tense and twitchy, Kazan is trying to find a way to tell Miller, a man he regards almost as a brother, that he intends to name names to Senator McCarthy’s House Un-American Activities Committee. He wants Miller to understand him. (In reality, his decision caused a huge rift between the two).

Edgar uses dramatic licence to imagine the conversation. It’s easiest, naturally, to root for Miller, who refused to name names, but Edgar adds subtle moral shading. Shaun Evans’ agonised, restless Kazan asks urgently why he should ruin his career for a cause he no longer believes in; Michael Aloni’s watchful, sharp Miller, in turn, has driving clarity but also a degree of lofty superiority. Questions of loyalty and betrayal — personal, political, marital — come thick and fast.

And the real target here is the paranoid political hysteria that has forced artists into impossible decisions. As the script touches on blacklisting, on divisive public discourse and on the banning of books in libraries, it’s clear that Edgar’s wider concern is the direction of travel of present-day America.

It’s fascinating and highly pertinent, then, and James Dacre’s taut, precisely acted production makes the most of the intimate Orange Tree Theatre, with the arguments slicing the air and the two men prowling the space warily, like caged animals. Jasmine Blackborow’s fragile Marilyn Monroe floats through as a spectral, imagined presence, nagging at the men’s consciences, while Faye Castelow as Kazan’s shrewd wife Molly needles and prompts.

It’s held back somewhat by the weight of exposition it has to pack in and by its cerebral nature. Meanwhile, the interplay of memory and guilt, while aptly reflecting Miller’s technique in Salesman, is complex to pull off on stage. Even so, this feels a timely piece for our rancorous times: a reminder of the fragility and importance of artistic and intellectual freedom.

[lu-dao-writes]

𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚞𝚋𝚞𝚜!𝙽𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝙺𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈 ♡ ˊˎ- Nanami as an incubus and his relationship with you! With Gojo on the side. (Idek what this summary is😭)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔(𝓈) / 𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓈 ♡ ˊˎ-  Incubus Nanami & Gojo, Gojo being Nanami’s wingman fr, gender neutral reader, black coded reader, Nanami being stubborn, themes of sex, mentions of Nanami touching himself, & switches of povs.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒜/𝒩 ♡ ˊˎ- I’m a slut for this man, what can I say y’all✋🏼😔? But spooky season is upon us and I’m thinking about supernatural shit and dark themes✨ But idk what happened to the form of this? Listen, I’m at the airport waiting for my flight and I’m bored and want this out lmao🤪. I’m hoping to do a part 2 where it’s more smutty based, but smut is hard y’all😩. I appreciate all the likes on my last post btw!🙏🏼🥺💕. Minors/ ageless blogs DNI please and lemme know any mistakes or missed tags.

He’s not fond of his nature, but he has learned to live with it. I mean he has to lmao.

He’s stubborn with his feeding schedule, and his a little picky. As usual Kento is more worried about getting that bread.

Gojo gets on his head about not taking care of himself (of course in a more playful/blasé manner, but he cares his Nanamin).

Gojo also knows when he hasn’t fed because it shows in Nanami’s appearance first before it show in his attitude.

His eyes gets a bit sunken in, the dark circles get darker, his hair looks dull, then he gets more uncanny from there if prolonged (which hasn’t happened, Nanami’s not that careless)

Then comes the attitude! Nanami’s patience grows very thin and he’s a mixture of tired, weak, & hungry. His already sharp and witty quips at Gojo become more sharper and a bit meaner, but nothing that goes over the line.

He’s not down for Gojo’s games essentially. Even more so now😗.

When he meets you, you were his server at this cute little cat cafe that Gojo dragged him to (he didn’t give the man a chance to say no).

Nanami doesn’t mind cats, he’s just not looking forward to getting their fur out from his clothes.

But you were a sight for sore eyes. Every inch of you being taken in by Nanami’s shade covered eyes and that familiar hunger in his belly rose its ugly head slightly.

He had to swallow hard and remind himself to actually answer you and remember his order.

He ignores Gojo’s knowing smirk and childish little prods at his ankles, instead focusing on his beverage of choice and listening to your voice as you take Gojo’s order. Once you’re gone is when he gripes at him.

Your voice, no matter how it sounds, is soothing and appealing to his ears, and your scent…

It’s what keeps him coming back.

All the cat hair on his clothes is worth it if he gets to keep seeing you.

You can say he’s a bit addicted to ya.

Eventually he manages to get your number and he noticed how every time he came, you were always his server, not that he’s complainin.

Dates with him are fun and romantic, first going to a restaurant, then stroll in the park and getting showered in sakura blossoms, going shopping (him buying whatever you want), more meal related dates, etc. He adores seeing you happy and pampered.

But you truly haunt his nearly sleepless nights and he can’t help but touch himself to the very thought of you. But it’s never truly enough.

Then…

Nanami starts to spiral. You are a human and he is a creature of lust.

His safety and or your safety could be compromised and with that in mind, he begins to back off.

And just as things were going so well too…

Nanami didn’t ghost you, thankfully, but he disclosed that things weren’t working out and that he’s sorry for wasting your time. But he did it on text. He just didn’t want to face you, unfortunately and he regrets it to this day

But on your side, to forget your anger and sorrows, you go to a nightclub to party and slightly drink the pain away.

But unfortunately you also saw Nanami and his friend from before there as well🤪😜.

It was tough but you ignore him just like he ignored your multitude of text messages.

…

Okay maybe you didn’t completely ignore him-.

You can’t help but look at him every so often and from the few glances you got to do, he looked kinda miserable, definitely agitated, and a bit ill looking..

Nanami was very much disinterested in anyone flocking his way and he immediately would send them to Gojo’s way instead, thankfully they took the bite, finding Gojo even more attractive.

But his mood sours even more when he catches wind of you.

You look gorgeous as always, especially in your fit (it’s something he bought you) and he wanted nothing more than to go over to you and sweep you up off your feet (and other things~).

But he doesn’t. All he does is keep his watchful gaze on you, making sure you’re okay and because well… He wants you!

Anyone that comes near you with obvious intentions to woo you his jaw and fists would clench slightly. But again, he doesn’t get up from his seat.

Nanami was… Content to stay in his place. But that was until Gojo thought it’d be a funny idea to make his way to you, pushing pass his little harem.

Although you have your heart set on Nanami, you can’t deny that his friend isn’t gorgeous.

You bet those eyes of his gets him all that he wants with some trouble on the side.

You didn’t move away when his arm came around you, and you let him guide you to a more less crowded area, soon swaying with you as 2 On by Tinashe and SchoolBoy Q booms in the background.

If you hadn’t been pursued by Nanami you definitely would’ve let yourself be caught up with Mr. Troublemaker.

“Heyy~! So, I know you were caught up with Nanamin and all that, but if you’re free…” He puts his lips near your ear, hands sliding towards your hips and gripping them slightly. “I’d love to get to know you better~.”

Your throat bob and just as you’re about to sink into temptation-.

“That’s quite enough, Satoru.”

“Kento…,” you breathed out.

- Gojo didn’t even put up a fight, just took his hands off you with a knowing smile and let Nanami take you away from him.

- Nanami was pissed. Fuming.

- He didn’t appreciate Gojo approaching you like that. The nerve of him!

- His grip is a little tight on you, but you’re okay with it. Until you remember that you’re supposed to be mad at him.

“Now, hold on a second! Who the hell do you think you are?? I was about to get some good dick and you ruined it!” you spat.

Nanami scoffs lightly, letting your hand go. “Oh, please, you can do so much better,” he replies, defeat coating his words.

“Oh god, are you gonna be corny and say that you’re better? ‘Cause clearly you weren’t.”

Despite the hurt, he knew you had a point. He failed as a partner.

“As much as I want to, I know that I failed in that regard. I’m sorry, (y/n).”

You hate how much of a kicked puppy he looks. You sigh. “Ken… What even happened? I think I deserve to know the truth.”

Nanami swallows and as much as he wants to tell you the truth, he can’t. Too much is at risk.

“It’s because he’s an incubus, Sweetheart~.”

“Huh!?” “Satoru!?”

Both of you were flabbergasted and Nanami was three seconds away from throttling Gojo.

“Nanami, I’m tired of watching you brood and nearly kill yourself because of your fears,” Gojo explains, his playfulness gone with the wind.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just possibly done??”

Gojo goes back to looking carefree. “Call it a gut feeling~! Now why don’t you two get outta here? Oh! And use protection~!”

Nanami fumbles through his thoughts on what to say, feeling as though he’s going to either short circuit or burst from rage. But in the end he sighs a contained breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, slightly cursing Gojo under his breath, but also feeling a tickle of guilt. He was being selfish with not taking care of himself..

He comes back to his senses when he feels you touch his arm.

“Alright… Is this true or are we really actin like clowns at the circus? If so I’ll need some more alcohol.”

“It’s true, as cliche as that sounds. I didn’t want to tell you in fear that you could maybe get in danger or I could be.”

“… Holy shit. Well I’m glad it’s nothing ridiculous or painful! But hey! I can live one of my child/teenhood fantasies by being in a relationship with a supernatural person!”

Nanami blinks at you for a good second, face perplexed before it eventually softens and he starts laughing lightly with disbelief, taking your hand into his.

When you squeeze his back eagerly he knows he has to thank Gojo for his part in all this.

[crazylittlejester]

What's Twilight's take on Warriors and Warriors' and Time's relationship in your series. I'm curious how he and the others fit in and view the pair in your take on things.

Anon I am SO glad you asked because I was thinking about writing a fic about this about like, an hour ago (i’m gonna apologize for weird spelling errors or oddly autocorrected words because i typed all this out on my phone and i’m dyslexic)

So with how I write and interpret them, Warriors and Time recognized each other immediately, but didn’t like, talk about it. They’re bad at emotions (and a bit dumb, both of em), so they just “got to know each other” as two new people for a while. Eventually those two got over each other and got a lot closer

Twilight and Time are very interesting because for me, Time didn’t recognize Twilight as his descendant, Time has never met Twilight before, but Twilight recognized him immediately as the hero’s shade and got spooked. He knows what happens to this man, he’s seen him dead essentially, and now here he is alive and Twilight can recognize parts of his own face in Time’s which definitely freaked him out a bit at first

With how I write them, Twilight looks up to Time as a mentor and father figure, and one of his biggest worries is disappointing him. He wants Time to think he’s capable (Time does), and he’ll stop at nothing to prove it. Twilight to me deals with a lot of anxiety and a fear of abandonment, and in some way, he’s a little afraid of Time. Time seems almost like an untouchable figure to him at first and he didn’t think he could ever form a relationship with him the way Warriors did because Time is a bit quiet and withdrawn in general, and Twilight just didn’t know how to get close to him

Warriors was the bridge to that gap. Warriors and Twilight have a lot of similarities to me, and they make a great duo. They’re close in age (with my headcanon being that Wars is 27 and Twilight is 22-23), and they definitely have a brotherly relationship that’s formed right off the bat. They tease each other and poke fun of each other, and Warriors’s laid back nature and dramatics help Twilight relax and not be so anxious. Similarly Twilight helps Warriors calm his own anxiety because both of them are the kind of person who are soothed by taking care of someone else, and Warriors likes being able to comfortably fit in a big brother role. It makes him feel needed.

As for how they feel about each other’s relationship with Time, they’re very different. Warriors will never really look up to Time the way any of the others do because that’s his little brother. In a way, Warriors views himself as the ‘oldest’ because his brain still refuses to fully comprehend that Time is now much older than he is. Twilight views Warriors as the one person he can talk freely to because he isn’t intimidating like Time is, and he’s not younger than Twilight either. Twilight feels a bit bad in the beginning about breaking down in front of the captain and letting him see how worried he really gets, but Warriors is always there for him when he needs it. Later when Twilight realizes Time is literally Just A Guy and stops idolizing him as much, those two get much closer, and he feels like he can talk to Time just as much as Warriors

You might’ve been expecting me to say something about Wars and Twilight being jealous of each other, but for how I write them its actually Time who sometimes feels a little jealous that Warriors can talk to Twilight so easily in the beginning. He doesn’t understand why Twilight can be so relaxed around the captain but so tense and nervous around him. Time sees a much different side of Twilight than everyone else does because in the beginning, the rancher is much more closed off from him than he is with literally any of the others. Eventually when Twilight starts relaxing around Time, they really develop a Father Son relationship that just makes Warriors happy to see

(Time of course teases him that if Warriors is going to call Twilight Time’s son, that would make Warriors his uncle)

Thank you for the ask!! I love any excuse to talk about how I characterize the blorbos :)

[agentrouka-blog]

i checked ur hair tag which was informative with some things u said and also reblogged but for you personally, how do u see the color of sansa's hair? bc there's this one post u rb and it has sample pics but they're so.... brown 😭 i know(? or not really...) that auburn is like brown-red....ish. even op mentioned that their pics are a bit too brown but sansa's hair is compared to redheads or fire or something so... idk... do u have like pics of what you think is the color of sansa's hair? honestly, it's for reference if i ever practice making sansa fan art 😭 i probably sound dumb but i've lived my life surrounded by people with naturally black hair, not a very diverse place tbh, i rly know nothing abt auburn hair and the internet is a bit confusing abt it... 😞 fan art interpretations are also v mixed from almost pure brown to ginger (which is probably bc of the show)... i hope this isn't too dumb of a question but if it is, feel free to ignore but also thank you for taking ur time to read 😭

GRRM makes sure to tell us:

The nearsighted hedge knight scratched his head. "I recall no such maid. What sort of hair is auburn?" "Browny red," said the older man. "No, we saw her not." (AFFC, Brienne I)

He also describes the contrast to her Alayne shade:

The wash her aunt had given her changed her own rich auburn into Alayne's burnt brown, but it was seldom long before the red began creeping back at the roots. [...] And at Winterfell, Sansa was a little girl with auburn hair. My daughter is a maiden tall and fair, and her hair is chestnut.  (AFFC, Sansa I)

Even in its dyed state, there are clear reddish hues ("burnt brown", "chestnut"). But more importantly, there is red in the natural roots. That's the darkest shade someone's hair will naturally be, right at the roots, so if it's red there, the ful body of it would absolutely have a strong red hue.

Auburn is a shade of red. It has more brown than the bright orange ginger, but it is absolutely a shade of red and if there is any doubt about whether or not the hair color is a shade of red then it's not auburn. It's caramel or light brown or chestnut brown. But it is not auburn.

I am very militant about this. An intolerant shrew, even. (I neither have nor want red hair, either. But I have Strong Opinions.)

There would be zero. ZERO. reason for GRRM to use no term but auburn, or make any mention of "the red in it", if Tully hair was essentially just a vibrant shade of brown.

Seriously.

[positivexcellence]

towwn: score a perfect 10 with these natural + nontoxic nail polishes for fall. clean formulas nix harmful chemicals, while offering vibrant, lasting color. we rounded up our favs and asked simcha whitehill, a.k.a. @misspopnails, the go-to nail artist for @elleusa, @marieclairemag + more to spill the polish on her fav autumn trends. 💅

@zoyanailpolish toxin-free + vegan, this leading formula has a chip-resistant finish, but doesn’t have chemicals like parabens or formaldehyde. miss pop says wine is a timeless fall tone, and the anabelle shade is a “standout for its warmth and festive, iridescent sparkle.”

@mooncat mooncat’s eco-packaging & ethical production make it a green fav. (10% of sales help rescue cats!) miss pop says mixed metals are big for fall; we like witch hazel from the fallen collection. “you just can’t go wrong with a metallic mani. it matches every outfit and turns nails into jewelry.” 

@nailtopiabeauty nailtopia’s superfood infused–formulas are leaping bunny approved + chip-free for weeks. Per miss pop, the brand’s opaque shades are great for nail art. the color main squeeze is perfect to create hand-painted pumpkin designs.

@cotebeautyofficial cote dries fast + has a gel-like, glossy finish that lasts ~2 weeks. “back from the ‘90s,” miss pop says bright red nails in shades like stiletto are on point for fall. “you can’t go wrong with a classic red nail.” 

@habitcosmetics a standout black-owned brand, habit offers shades for all skin tones. using 100% post-consumer plastic packaging + recycled jars, 40% of sales help women + communities of color. “coffee nails are hot,” says miss pop. “all shades, from cream to taupe to caramel, even chocolate french tips and tortoise shell designs.”

@dazzle_dry this nail lacquer system air dries in 5 mins without uv lights and lasts a week+. ingredients are ethically sourced + chemical-free with a low carbon footprint. “fall’s the perfect time for a rich midnight blue,” says miss pop. 

@tenoverten tenoverten formulas feature safer solvents, essential oils, vitamin e + aloe to strengthen nails. “light-catching shimmer is a fun layer to add to any color mani,” says miss pop on flashy micro-glitter trend.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Okay, so a friend and I went back over a portion in the Season 3 trailer last night.

Because both of us (on separate days), after having watched the trailer a few times, essentially had the question: Is that green shatterspace portal actually Boscage Maze?

When I myself watched it I felt...idk...like the shade of green was different. And then my friend mentioned (after another look at it) that the color was more muted.

And then...we let our brains run.

Mind you, before the trailer or any summaries of the season came out, my friend and I were talking over discord. We'd decided that based on the evidence (Sonic's natural eminence of prism energy, whatever makes him special compared to Shadow, the fact he shattered the prism, etc) Sonic could theoretically have a deeper connection to the paradox prism due to the energy inside him. Then, they threw a what if in the air.

Essentially "I don't think they'll do it, but what if Sonic is the missing piece to the paradox prism. So they won't be able to complete the prism and do anything with it without risking killing Sonic"

To which I said "That would be so cool! And given that I've never believed Sonic's going to have to actually make a big choice between his old friends or his new friends existing—or at least that he'd never actually make that choice and would find a secret third choice—I think a Sonic's wellbeing versus everything he cares about makes sense. That has the potential to hurt the other characters, because if need be, Sonic would do it"

Needless to say we watched the trailer the first time and I was like "No way he was right. Like, it was a good thought, but none of us thought for sure that they'd do it"

Now, with that in mind. As I said, my friend and I decided to let our brains run after feeling that there was a difference between the green shatterspace in the trailer and the one for boscage maze. We couldn't shake the idea that the colors are different, nor the idea that the shape of the portal openings are different. And we've both seen people talking here about how it could be the last shatterspace open or something (boscage maze that is), but to me...that doesn't make sense. Without special context, it doesn't make sense why it would have to be Boscage Maze of all worlds that would be the last to collapse, or why taking Sonic to Boscage Maze of all shatterspaces could be enough to save him. Plus there are other voices talking in that scene. There are other people who would need to get to Boscage if it was truly the last, and if it's just to get Sonic to the closest shatterspace, the characters would have to be fighting in the in between space (between the shatterspaces). And my friend too, from looking at it, thinks that the green shatterspace in the trailer seems like it's farther out at the edges of the place between.

So, we rushed to the episodes to get a clear shot of the Boscage portal, and then a clear shot of the one in the trailer.

Now, turns out we were right about the color difference.

But it's the shape too.

If you've been looking in the main tag, I probably don't need to tell any of you that each portal (the part you enter to enter a shatterspace) is shaped like its prism shard. The first image is a shot of the Boscage Maze portal my friend screenshotted. The portal opening resembles the shape of the green shard, and the green is more vibrant than the more muted green in the trailer.

The shatterspace in the trailer is just...a completely different shape, both in portal opening and the crystals around it. If you need another angle of the Boscage Portal to compare to the crystals surrounding the portal in the trailer, here's another shot.

So, different green color. Different opening shape that would correspond to a prism we haven't seen before.

Let's return to the "Sonic contains the missing piece of the paradox prism and is essentially a living prism shard" theory, and let us also employ the idea that after the prism shattered and each shard landed in one of our alternate green hills, the shards gave off an outburst in energy that allowed the blue shard to fill the shatterspace with water, the green with dense forest, or the purple with mountains of crystal.

Now you're probably saying "But tumblr user hadesknockedupintheunderworld, what about the red shard? We saw a flashback. The red shard didn't just start growing buildings when it landed in what would become New Yolk"

And to that I'd say...you're right! We know based upon the Chaos Council's flashback that they used the prism shard as their energy source (whether they received it when conquering or after the fact), and that they themselves built New Yolk city without using the prism shard (after all, they only knew it as an energy source)

So, I say to you back. What if upon landing in a shatterspace, the shards were initially unstable. So they either caused a major change/addition to the world they landed in, or it's energy was properly harnessed and contained. That wouldn't be so far fetched, right? Because we know that Nine adapted the power core the council built to properly contain and channel the energy of the red shard to create his shatterdrive.

Now, the idea that the shards, while having shared powers, also have specific element based powers is not a new idea to this fandom. So let's run with this idea too, for funsies. If the blue shard corresponds more to weather (creating storms, lightning, flooding) and the green shard causes plants to grow (as examples), what, then, would Sonic be?

I'd say speed. Why? Well, besides the fact that that's Sonic's thing, let's backtrack to episode 1.

As of episodes 1 and 2, we know Sonic's body produces the same energy as the red shard. Before Nine crafted tech to attach to Sonic's clothes, the energy was not properly distributing to his body. Sonic would run and not be able to stop, he couldn't control his speed, and sometimes, he'd even start running without actually wanting or trying to run. In short, he could not control how fast he was going, how soon he could stop, or even when he would just start running. Even his shoes, which can canonically handle his usual speeds, had started to smoke after a while.

Couldn't you perhaps extrapolate from this that...Sonic became unstable upon entering New Yolk, his speed going haywire, and it was Nine's tech that properly contained and channeled Sonic's (he living shard's) prism energy?

And if Sonic is essentially a living prism shard...

Let's go back to the shatterspace from the trailer again.

A shard shape we've never seen before.

My friend and I got to this point and we thought:

"What if this is Sonic's shatterspace?"

As in, if each prism shard corresponds to a shatterspace, what if this is a secret 6th one that corresponds to Sonic?

Earlier I said that the ideas people brought up (without in season context) for how or why Shadow would speed to take Sonic to Boscage Maze wouldn't make sense. BUT

If there's a shatterspace out there affected by/created by Sonic's prism energy, it may not be a stretch for the writers (and our main characters) to conclude that getting Sonic there could keep him from disappearing.

Just...food for thought.

[utopianparadoxist]

Hi! I'm most interested on reading your version of HS extension(?) continuation? re-adaptation? Ever since I first saw your analysis on Dirk and Jake I've considered you with amazing grip of the characters and the HS universe over all, Dirk is one of my fav characters of all time (if not the), and there is nothing I'd want more for him than a happy ending, the epilogues were truly heart breaking for him (even though I was more than willing to see where they were going with him in HS^2 in hopes of seeing him reach a happy end) Homestruck was and still is one of my fav properties ever and I'd love to see more from you, I'm sorry you had a hard time but I'm really glad you're back, here and in a better headspace. That said, I guess I'm just somewhat confused on in you have something written already or if it's in the works or from where in the timeline you're continueing from ? Maybe you have like, a master post with your list of essays and fics?

I also loved your youtube videos btw

Thanks! It means a lot to read this. As to your question:

The main project I've been managing since the Epilogues got posted is Pumpkin Path/Pumpkin Track, a sequel to the Meat and Candy epilogues focused primarily on Pumpkins and Vegetables as an alternative form of fan consumption.

The first installment of this arc is THE APOCRYPHON OF JAKE ENGLISH (2019), which follows Meat Jake immediately following Ultimate Dirk's desertion of Earth C. Brain Ghost Dirk declares Dirkjake cancelled and (trigger warning) self-destructs, unleashing the inner barriers in Jake's psychology that he always used his inner Dirk voice to maintain.

Thus Jake's own mind begins to lead him down a rabbit hole of speculatory metaphysics, esoteric spiritual symbolism, and esoteric magic theory that ultimately leads to his ascension to Ultimate Self as Prince English: Himself wearing Dirk's shades and orange hat and essentially larping as a Prince in imitation of Dirk proper.

Through the power he gains from this, he blasts off from Earth C and tracks down Ultimate Dirk for a no holds barred 8eatdown in which he reclaims their lost love and makes Dirk his prisoner with chains of love and mercy, cancelling his ability to die and comitting to becoming the vill8in of Homestuck, as well as its Her8, if it means he can keep Dirk safe and alive.

In the process he finally establishes Dirkjake as indisputable endgame canon, and becomes the equivalent of the I AM Christian God, the new existential equivalent to Lord English himself, with a will that predominates completely over everything else in Paradox Space. There may be some surprises that happen along the way, too.

Now, That much of the story has been written and published since 2019. You can read it on A03 right now and always could. In fact, I'd encourage you to do so and @ me, as well as maybe tag it with #Pumpkin Path, #Pumpkin Track, or just straight up #Homestuck for all I care. I want eyes on this thing, and I wanted them 4 years ago.

That said:

I am now nearing completion on the follow-up to the Apocryphon as an intermission piece between the Epilogues and Pumpkin Track proper, with what is essentially ACT 1 of Pumpkin Track: W(1)LDSCR1PT-B4R0QU3STUCK, a high-drama spectacle driven continuation of the plot of the Epilogues centering on a confrontation between Ultimate Jake English and Meat Jade Harley, who must duel for the right to decide if Dirk Strider dies.

In the process of their battle and Jade's necessary Ascension to Ultimate Selfhood in order to Rise uP to the level necessary to compete against a being like Prince English, deeply hidden truths will be unveiled; about the lives of Jade and Jake, about the moral logic that rules Earth C, and about the very nature and purpose of Paradox Space itself.

If I have it my way, if all goes as I Hope, then nothing in Homestuck will ever be the same once it's posted. The Apocryphon was setup. Now it's fucking Sh8wt1m3, and I can't w8.

The first half of Wildscript is written and has been being beta'd for several months, and I have a full outline written for the rest. Anyone who gets their eyes on the thing seems to come away pretty excited. Sometime in the near future, I'll post the first four Chapters of Wildscript on Ao3 or some other platform, and update the rest as I go. And once Wildscript is finished, I have future Acts and Intermissions planned for the foreseeable eternity, tackling off the top of my head: Ultimate Ascensions for Rose and Kanaya, Vriska and Terezi, Roxy and Calliope, Jane Crocker, and Nepeta Leijon and Tavros Nitram as they lead the twin charges of Nepetaquest 3033.

There is no endpoint to my ambition for the future of Homestuck save simply: 8. The only question is whether the fandom wants to come along for the ride with me in the long run. I think Hope Remains that we'll have a great time here if they do.

If not, I hope they have even more fun elsewhere.

Let's rise.

[heartbeatan]

The Art of Revenge (Chapter 3)

Return to Chapter 2.

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Jungkook Fanfictions.

Return to One Nights Series.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 3

For the brief, quiet moments after you stepped into Jungkook’s foyer, your nerves slipped away as you forgot why you were in his home at all. As mentioned, you hadn’t gotten a good look at the inside of the house the one and only time you had been there. You had a tent, and only entered through the mudroom to use the toilet and - if you were lucky - the shower.

But now, walking through the front door, and stepping into the main space bathed in the bright, warming light of the sun, you were awe-struck. The entire interior was made of poplar wood - from the live-edge wall planks, the trunk beams, to the paneled ceiling. The natural orange shade of the wood wasn’t over-bearing or too rustic - perhaps because Jungkook’s furniture and decor was so airy and light. Most rooms opened to each other, yet were divided by a slight change in elevation, with the main hall acting essentially as a catwalk between them all. To the right was the living room, which was about three stair steps below where you stood. Its West-facing wall was nothing but tall glass windows. The North wall, of course, had a large, stone fireplace that looked as if it should have several antlers displayed above it. The back of the living room was lined with some more stairs - two-steps up to the kitchen area, and five-steps up to what you assumed was some sort of dining room nook. There were so many windows. So much natural light.

You peered ahead through the hall, and noticed a few more doors and openings - all also trimmed with stair cases that either took you up or down. Although you couldn’t see much of it, the space at the end of the hall was pure white, and de-elevated a bit deeper than the rest of the rooms. You assumed it was his studio - there was no other reason to cover up such beautiful architecture if it weren't for functionality. Your eyes followed another set of stairs upwards, and you noticed there was a partial second level. Just a straight hallway, leading to what you assumed were two bedrooms and maybe a bathroom. It was lined with wrought iron banisters, which overlooked the many rooms below.

“Victoria’s Secret?” You were suddenly jolted out of your trance, jumping slightly as you were reminded that Jungkook was standing just behind you.

“Sorry?” you twisted around, looking at him confused.

“Your bag,” he nodded to the wide, stiff paper shopping bag you had clutched in your hands. “You did a little shopping?”

“Oh!” you looked down to see the company’s name scrolled across the paper, which at one point only housed your wedding lingerie. “I, um, didn’t really go home after… everything. This is my suitcase for now, I guess,” you shrugged.

“Makes sense. There’s not a lot of those types of fancy stores on the way up here.”

“Yeah,” you smiled, thinking of how difficult it was to find even a discount store. “Sorry to disappoint. If things were different, I would have come... better prepared.”

Jungkook’s mouth curved, and you liked what it implied. He was thinking about you… and lingerie… and you liked how the image it painted reflected in his eyes. He stepped towards you, slowly and casually - not in any way aggressive or threatening. But - it felt threatening as he closed the space between you. Threatening in a thrilling way. You once again became hyper aware of his size, of his tall legs and broad shoulders, feeling like you were being dwarfed by his physicality as well his mere existence. His eyes were on yours, glinting with a touch of mischief as he stepped just too suggestively close to you. Then he bent slightly at the waist, and you felt his fingers brush over yours as he grabbed a hold of the string handles of your bag.

“Lemme help you with your suitcase, then” he said, a wry grin teasing his lips as he curved his tongue around the words, and slipped the bag out of your hands - respectfully leaving your purse with you. He had brains.

You exhaled a smile, realizing he was teasing you - and also realizing that somewhere within the past few seconds, you had been holding your breath. “I didn’t know you were such a gentleman.”

“Hm,” he chuckled, then winked, “not all the time."

You werent entirely sure he meant it as an innuendo, but regardless, his words sent a delicious shiver up your spine.

He then stepped across the hall to a set of french doors next to the foyer and across from the living room. The glass panes were protected from the inside with soft, white door curtains, so you didn’t know what was behind them, until Jungkook opened one, and you caught a glimpse inside.

A king-sized bed. A bedroom. His bedroom.

“This your room?” you pointed into the space beyond him. You were a bit surprised. You had figured his room was on the top level overlooking the sunrise, not right next to the common areas and overlooking the driveway.

“Yup,” he nodded proudly, once again holding the door for you to follow him in. The gesture was simple, but it felt far from simple. This was his room, in his home - and you hadn't realized what a symbol it was until you were invited into it. This was where you were going to let another man touch you; where you were going to put the nail into the coffins of Chris and Stephanie; and, where you were going to be starting anew. Being invited into his bedroom somehow made everything feel so… real. Yet, somehow, you felt… okay.

You followed Jungkook, your body buzzing as you brushed passed his hulking form, as you stepped into yet another impressive space in his house. Much like the living room, the windows were floor to ceiling, and the room was soft and romantic against the orange wood. You looked out over the yard, indeed noticing the driveway, the front lawn, and the party barn near the tree line. Back at home, a front facing bedroom with floor to ceiling windows would be a nightmare. Hell, a back facing bedroom was nightmare enough. If you forgot for even a second that you hadn’t closed your curtains, you were sure to put on a show for at least five households. But out here, in the quiet, with no passers by, you supposed the rules were different. You could easily make love under the silver shine of the moon and stars, without the risk of being seen by a neighbour walking their dog. What an intriguingly pleasant idea.

Looking further beyond the tree line, you understood why this room was built as such. The scenery was remarkable, and promised views of red sunsets and pink skies. In the distance, you could make out a valley following a curvy stream of water, which was lined with what appeared to be orchards and possibly vineyards.

You turned back to Jungkook. He had taken a seat on the corner of his bed, stretching his arms behind him as he leaned back to balance himself over his palms. His long, lean torso and welcoming lap were now on display - and with the twitch of your awakening pelvic muscles, you remembered again why you were here.

The room then became silent, as you stood there, holding your purse like a cross – you avoiding his gaze – and both of you wondering how to move forward. This was the awkwardness that you feared. What was the formality here? Should you talk some more first, or just bite the bullet and get down and dirty? You were the one who propositioned him, did that mean you should be the one to make the first move? Or was it better if the “favour-giver” was the one to first offer themselves? Why was Jungkook doing this for you at all?

You considered crossing the floor, and seductively crawling onto his lap to mount his hips, but the more you thought about it, the more you talked yourself out of it. Instead, you decided to fill the space between you with mindless banter.

“I can’t believe you own this place,” you admired, once again looking out the window. “It must’ve cost you a fortune.” You immediately regretted speaking. You barely knew Jungkook, and even though you were about to have sex with him, it still felt inappropriate to be commenting on his finances. You spun around quickly, looking as apologetic as you could. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume anything.”

“Nah,” Jungkook shrugged and smiled, like you were being ridiculous for apologizing. “I am lucky. This was my grandparent’s getaway cabin. I inherited it. I wouldn’t be able to afford it otherwise.”

“Nice,” you awed in some pathetic version of a 90s surf dudebro. Once again, you regretted it, and - once again - looked at him with wide, embarrassed eyes. “I mean… not nice that they died. I'm sorry for your loss."

Get it together, you idiot, you chastised yourself.

But Jungkook wasn’t in the least bit phased. He didn’t look offended, in fact, he even laughed through the bemused smile he had already been giving you.

“It is sweet… I don’t have a mortgage, and I’m completely off-grid." Now he was just boasting. “So… yeah… I don’t have any major bills to manage. That’s why I can get by making pennies and doing whatever the fuck I want for a career.”

"I thought your businesses were doing really well?” you furrowed your brows, as you leaned against a heavy wooden dresser. You didn’t know how much a painter and photographer made these days, but as far as you knew, he was in demand on the graphic design front. “Stephanie is always talking like you're some sorta secret billionaire," you laughed.

It was then that his face dropped, and you realized your grace period of stupid, none-of-your-business banter was over. You felt instantly guilty, and perhaps terrified that you had destroyed your refuge.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately sputtered out. “I didn’t mean to pry. I’m just nervous and trying to make stupid small talk… Just tell me to shut up when I’m being too much.”

“No, no, no” he shook his head regretfully, as he pushed himself to sit upright. “Don't apologize. It’s not you. It’s…” he paused as he thought about his answer, then grimaced just before he continued, "Stephanie says a lot of things. I just worry about you having the wrong impression of me because of her."

You felt relieved. He wasn’t upset at you - at least he said as much. He just didn’t like the mention of Stephanie.

It was strange. She had always venerated him, and talked about him and her as if they were thicker than thieves. And yet, in under a five minute phone conversation, he had agreed to break her heart. And now you were here, and it was clear he had a visceral reaction to just the mention of her name. You put a pin in that thought to be inquired about later.

“Still… feel free to tell me to shut up when I need to… Nicely, of course.”

He chuckled softly, “Yeah, okay."

Silence befell you both once more, only this time, you decided to avoid useless conversation and your potential fourth strike – and instead, cut right to the chase.

“I don’t know how to do this. I’m sorry, I’ve only been with Chris for the last... ever… I don’t… I don’t know what to do next.”

He looked at you thoughtfully for a moment, but didn’t answer. Your gaze followed his face as he stood up from the bed, and as he began to stroll across the floor towards you. Your skin instantly felt on alert, buzzing more fervently with each inch closed. You didn’t consciously decide too, but at some point you were off the dresser and standing to attention. When he reached you, he wrapped a large hand gently around your hip, pulling himself close enough to tease you with the faint brush of his hips against yours. He took your purse from your hands, setting it aside. Your palms reached up to rest over his chest, and his other hand smoothed itself along the length of your arm in a touch that felt too intimate to have been had with a near stranger. But it felt so good…

You looked up at him, not able to meet his eyes for long since they wanted to fixate on his beautiful mouth, and the freckle that adorned his lower lip.

When he spoke, his voice was calm, soothing, but also low, with a hint of a gravel, " I was thinking maybe you and I should just dive right in and break this ice first?” His hand caressing your arm now dropped and slid around your waist.”

Fuck, yes, your mind screamed, as your lips curled and eyes narrowed into a gracious and seductive display of agreement.

“I think you’re right,” you said, with all the uninhibited confidence you possessed - until it diminished. “I mean… if you really want to.”

“I do,” he nodded, his hand once more brushing up your arm and towards your neck, while his grip on your hip tightened.

“Seriously,” you continued, as your desire began to collide with your apprehension. “Because I know you said you would, but you’re allowed to change your mind.”

“I haven’t,” he assured you, pulling your bodies tighter together as his fingers snaked their way into your hairline and his thumb cradled your jaw. “Have you changed your mind?”

“No, not at all!” you nearly shrieked. You definitely hadn’t changed your mind - especially now that you could feel the stiffness behind his pants pressing into your belly. “I just, want you to know that you don’t–”

“Y/N,” Jungkook interrupted you with a stern, yet flirty whisper of your name. “I'm going to kiss you. So, unless you have some sort of objection, I’m telling you nicely to shut up.”

You accepted his light scolding with a sheepish smile and nod. “Okay. I’m mean, no, I have no objections.”

“Good,” he returned a faint smile of his own, his lips widening and curving gently - until he dipped his face forward, and tilted your head high so those lips of his could gently curve against yours.

The kiss was soft… not in the way that it was unsure and timid - it was tender in a way that was meant to be reassuring and soothing.

You liked it, but you weren't quite sure what to make of your liking it. You had made a promise to never kiss another man other than Chris, and now you were kissing Jungkook - and you felt nothing but good about it.

Jungkook broke the kiss, angled his head to the other side, then brought your mouths together once again. The kiss was still gentle, but firmer than before. You felt yourself melting into him. Knowing he had begun to caress your caution away, he dropped his hand at your face and brought it down to the small of your back. You slid your arms over his shoulders, then braided them behind his neck – you now the one encouraging further contact.

You felt your ass press against the dresser behind you, as Jungkook had managed to walk you against it, and wave his bulge tight against your groin. Your lips parted in a small, silent gasp – and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

The flavour of him was foreign – shocking at first, since you were so use to the taste of Chris – but it was also delicious, hot, and exciting. His tongue moved against yours with languid precision, and for some reason, it ignited something delicious, hot, and exciting deep in your gut.

Your kiss soon became more, then more. His hands began to roam the expanse of your body – his fingers leaving a wake of goosebumps over the skin just above your jeans and just barely under the hem of your shirt.

It was happening…

He was getting ready to fuck you, and damn, were you ever ready to be fucked by him. His hands crept higher under your shirt, smoothing around the curves of your waist to the hollows of your back as he pulled you in closer. You wanted more, and you wanted it faster. You wanted more of your skin exposed, more of your flesh kneaded in his hands, more of his body pressed against yours… more of his hot, wet mouth kissing you.

In a quick decisive moment, you chose to initiate the “more.” You had propositioned Jungkook, and he had made first contact – now it was back to you to take you both to the next level.

You untangled your arms from behind his shoulders, and dragged your palms firmly over his chest – now elated at the idea of seeing everything you felt beneath his t-shirt. You raked your nails over his abdomen, until they caught the hem. You then pulled the cotton gently north, and Jungkook got the memo. He released his hold on you, reached behind his head to grab his collar, helping you strip him of the garment in one, smooth motion. His hands were immediately back on your waist, and he pressed his forehead to yours as he moved to start kissing you again – but your gaze was trained elsewhere.

You splayed your palm across the solid planes of his chest, sweeping appreciatively over them as you admire just how fucking beautiful his body was. You should have known… rock climbing and hiking among other outdoor activities were hobbies he was known for.

“My God,” you whispered outloud, unaware you had said anything at all.

He chuckled a soft smile, “You see something you like?”

“Ha!” you grinned, completely not embarrassed by how you were so obviously drooling over him. He was gorgeous, and it was a crime to not let him know that. You looked up at him, showing him every ounce of desire you felt that your eyes could convey. “I always liked what I saw.”

“Yeah?” he tilted his head, his ego lacing with a touch of disbelief.

“Of course,” you said more seductively than you intended to – but it worked as you leaned forward, pressing your lips over a muscular plank, your tongue taking a few liberties with his dark, peaked nipple.

“Good to know,” he took the compliment, and you were delighted to hear a bit more arousal in his tone. His hands dropped to the hem of your tank top. You raised your arms above your head as he peeled your shirt off your body, and discarded it to some unknown corner on the floor. He wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you cautiously as if you might try to escape, while the index finger of his free hand began to trace a line over the hills and valleys of your now expose torso. There was so much praise and worship and need in the way his eyes drank you in. You hated that it made you think about Chris , but you couldn’t help but wonder when was the last time you felt so damn desired.

Jungkook hummed some throaty growl of appreciation, as his fingers began to dance with the lace lining your bra. Your nipples tingled and puckered at the prospect of being worshipped as well.

His three fingers then dropped into the front of your cup, and he pulled downward and released your breast from its confines. In a short instant, Jungkook dropped his head, and you stretched your neck as you felt the heat of his mouth engulf the sensitive bud. He hummed as he sucked you into his mouth, and the vibration rippled through you, making you hum along with it.

He moved to your other breast, only instead of springing your wanton nipple free, he teased over its lace covering. He laved at the fabric with a long, firm swipe of his tongue, leaving your bra hot and dampened, and then cool and tantalizing as the drafty house air swept over it. He licked at it again, sucking the lace and your nipple gently between his teeth, and releasing them to snap back into place. You yelped a little - like you had been shocked by static.

Jungkook grinned triumphantly against the mound of your breast, then caressed the flesh with a kiss that more resembled a bite. His lips made their way up your chest, your neck, your jaw – each inch breached mimicking an inch his body pressed tighter against yours. You graciously reveled in the contact, scooping your arms under his shoulders, and digging your fingers into the solid, muscular columns that lined his back. You wanted to wrap your legs around him, and feel every twitch and stretch of his movements against you. You wanted his pants gone - and yours - to feel more of his erection rubbed over your core. You wanted his skin and his weight to smother you, and to feel your breasts flattened against that sculpted chest of his.

As Jungkook’s hands found their way into the back of your pants, and as he began to knead at the generous flesh of your backside, you reached behind yourself and unclasped your bra, feeling stimulated by their liberation. But they weren’t free for long – not if Jungkook had anything to do with it. His face, which had been focused on nibbling at your ear, pulled from your neck so he could peer down at your chest, and he deftly helped you pull the straps off your shoulders.

You found yourself in a familiar position, his one arm holding you near him, your hips swaying in tandem against each other, while his other hand now squeezed its way over your now completely naked torso. With his lower lip tucked tightly between his teeth, his dark, hooded eyes raked gluttonously over your various silhouettes – admiring every shadow and freckle.

You felt a blush stirring behind your cheeks as you watched him inspect you with such raw appreciation. “See something you like?” you volleyed Jungkook’s question back at him.

“I’ve always liked what I saw,” he retorted with a roughly spoken volley of his own.

God… you thought. If this was only the foreplay to the foreplay, you were in for a very erotic ride. Speaking of foreplay…

He released the tension he had on your body, and his hands dropped to the button of your pants. He didn’t rush to undo it, nor did he take his sweet-ass time. You felt the rumble of your zipper as it passed over your mound, and he caught your lips again just as his palming of your denim-clad junction made you gasp.

You took the opportunity to press your breasts against him, moaning into his mouth as you took pleasure in what you had been wanting for these past few minutes. His skin was warm and smooth against yours; his body felt strong and solid, like you were pulling yourself against a brick wall and not a man. You could feel the faint beat of his heart thumping behind his ribs, and you could sense how each of his muscles tensed and relaxed as he found pleasure and intrigue in your kiss.

He dug his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, and began pulling them south off over your hips. In that moment, you wished you hadn’t worn such skin tight pants. You wished they would just puddle to the floor so you wouldn’t have to let him go. He reluctantly broke your kiss, but made up for it as he trailed a path of licks and nips down the length of your body, peeling your pants off your limbs. He helped you step out of the legs, and your jeans too became lost somewhere in his room.

Kneeling before you, face-to-face with your panties guarding your dampened pussy, he began to gingerly rub the length of your thighs. That was when you noticed, and he noticed, that you were trembling.

“Are you okay?” he looked up at you without judgment.

“Yeah,” you replied. You were okay – you didn’t know why your body was reacting this way when your soul felt completely on board. “I want to. I think I’m just… overwhelmed… I don’t know. I never thought I’d be with anyone else. Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” his palms ran soothing circles over your skin. “We’re here on your terms. Just tell me what you want.”

“I want you to keep going,” you said assuredly, punctuating with a rapid nod. “It feels good. I feel good. I’m having a good time.”

He smiled, “Me too.”

Then, something shifted behind his gaze. With a blink, it had gone from empathetic and concerned, to heated and filthy. He kept his eyes locked on yours, and you felt like they had a mystic power to prevent you from looking anywhere else but at him. You felt his fingers squeeze tighter into your flesh as he pulled his face toward your pussy. You held your breath, like you were watching the scene below you in slow-motion. You shifted your weight as you braced yourself for contact. His lips parted, and you saw his tongue relax and drop, just before he latched his mouth wide, and firm over the cotton guarding your clit.

“Oh!” a noise trembled off your tongue, as heat engulfed your centre, and as you felt his wet muscle wave strongly into the bud. He detached himself, tilted his head, and repeated the action, wetting your panties with his saliva to compliment the way his prior ministrations had already dampened them. He detached again, tilted again, and licked you again from a new angle – several times over. It was a stunning sensation of moving between the heat of his mouth when he covered you, to feeling the wet coolness when he exposed you. Perhaps Chris had once been like this – back in your early days together, but you couldn’t recall. With Chris, sex was a clinical and familiar race to climax. Not that it wasn't good sex – it was great to have a partner who knew how to get you off. But you couldn’t remember ever being teased by him, or making time to make sex an erotic adventure. But with Jungkook, and the way he handled you – not worried about needing to get to work in an hour, or back to the household chores, or whatever your busy, domestic lives demanded of you – with Jungkook, it felt like you had all the time in the world.

Moments ago, you felt a rush to have more of him – but now, you felt beyond contented to just let him devote whatever he wanted to you.

You watched adoringly, your lip twisted between your teeth as you absorb the tiny but mounting bouts of pleasure. You braced yourself with one hand over the edge of the dresser, but then let the other drop and smooth over his hand clutching around your thigh. He appreciated your gesture, twisting his wrist so he too could tug gently on your forearm.

He then pulled his face tight and firm into your panties, and your breath hitched as you felt his teeth and lips nibbling around your labia. He pulled back, the fabric of your panties stretching as he pulled them roughly with his teeth. He released them with a snap, and your hips jolted, and you yelped as you felt the cotton-poly-blend slap back against you.

He grinned impishly again – and you began to realise that teasing and shocking his partners was apart of his sex repertoire. The notion thrilled you.

You expected him to resume eating you out – albeit you were hoping that he would strip you of your soiled panties first. But he didn’t. Instead, he began to rise from the floor, until he was once again looming over you, and caging you between himself and the dresser.

“How you feeling?” he asked, and your eyes nearly bugged out of your head.

How were you feeling? The space between your legs was practically a splash pad. He could have easily sunk his bare cock into you minutes ago without any remorse. So, how were you feeling: You were feeling nothing but respect and appreciation for his commitment to detail.

“I, uh,” you nearly laughed as you tried to answer him. “Yeah, I think I’m feeling pretty damn good.”

He laughed as he caught your meaning. You scraped your hands down his torso, then let your fingertips dance around the waistband of his pants. “Can I help make you feel good?” you asked suggestively.

“Mm,” he craned his neck as he thought about it. He definitely wanted you to, but something was holding him back.

“Maybe later. I promised you a good time - I intend to make good on it.”

"Well,” you drawled as you grazed and teased the underside of his waistband, and felt his abs jolt in excitement. “You're off to a good start. But, I like to pull my weight." You then slipped your palm over his pants, and gave his bulge a light squeeze. He rewarded your action by choking slightly on the air. "Lemme suck your dick, Jungkook."

He definitely liked that idea. It was written all over his face, and taut all over his body. He was perhaps a bit taken aback by your forwardness. But he didn't budge on his resolve.

"Trust me, I'd love nothing more than to come down your throat."

A thrilling tingle sparked through your groin as he said it. You liked that idea, so much so that you could practically taste him already. You also liked how the temperature between you was heating up and dirtying down. Perhaps your face didn't show your excitement, however, because Jungkook tilted his head in a slight grimace.

"Too much dirty talk?" he questioned.

“No,” you chuckled, respectfully abandoning his protected hard-on, and opting to slip your hands down the back of his pants to explore his impressive glutes. "Not dirty enough."

"Yeah?" He liked the sound of that too. His fingers then began to trace down your belly, lower, and lower, and lower - and your breathing became shorter and shorter. "What kinda words you like?"

His palm then dipped beneath your panties, and you felt a long set of fingers slip their way through your folds, and the heel of his hand press firm over your clit. Your jaw slackened, and your back arched to buck your hips into his hand. He looked pleased at how you reacted to his touch.

He drew his fingers north, slithering them through your folds, brushing the length of your labia, until they flattened and tugged hard on your clit. Your fingers instead curved, shaping into talons seeking purchase over any bit of his flesh they could find.

"What can I say to turn you on, Y/N?" he prompted you again. You weren't sure you were expected to answer - it was clear on his wolfish grin that he enjoyed how wordless he was making you.

"Um… I don't know... everything?" you panted an answered, although you weren’t sure if it was the right answer… you weren’t really sure of anything right now.

"Mm," he hummed as he thought, dipping his fingers low and pulling them north again. "Cock?"

"Of course," you laughed. But you supposed it was possible some people didn't care for the term.

His index finger slid south again, and teased itself around your entrance. Your kegels clenched as they prepared for him to invade you - but he didn’t. Not yet. He languidly split his way through your slick slip, and parted your folds to expose your clit to the elements. "Pussy?"

"Yes," you swallowed.

"Cunt?" he said as you bucked against him again. He began to swirl a finger in delicate circles around your clit, and you began to burn from the inside out.

"Sparingly," you conceded. He increased his pressure and speed, now assaulting the nub of nerves with a clear intent. This was no longer teasing, this was no longer a quest to make you wet and ready for him… this was the first click of the route to a proper orgasm. “Oh, shit!” you keened, biting your lip as you bowed your head against his chest. You panted a few audible whines as you got used to his ministrations. When you found balance, you lifted your chin to look up at him, only to find yourself off-balanced again. God, the way he looked at you was intoxicating. He was so focused on his task, and so concentrated on reading your every micro-reaction to his touch. He enjoyed it all - he was getting off on how you looked, how you sounded, and he was high on the idea that he was the one making you feel this way.

He licked his lips, and you immediately wanted to kiss them again. But you couldn’t. A microgasm caught hold of your system, and all you could do was ride it out until it relinquished its control. But then another dirty word slipped from his kissable lips…

"Slut?" he asked somewhat cautiously. Truth was, you hadn't ever had that term brought into your sex life vocabulary - but the way it rolled off his fucking tongue, you knew you'd love to hear him say it again.

"Yes," you near whined, as the word and his fingers heightened your pleasure. You clamped your one hand firm around the back of his neck, while the other gripped tightly around his flexing bicep. "Oh... my God," you breathed, letting him know how good he was making you feel.

You were discovering just how much of an artist Jungkook was. Those long, slender fingers of his weren't only adept at painting beautiful pictures, or strumming an electric guitar. They knew exactly how to mold a woman's centre into a motherboard of primal, unrestricted pleasure. He played with your clit, finding just the right places to push, and just the right angles to rub. Then he'd zero in - raise the tempo, deepen the pressure, until your body began to convulse with the onset of an orgasm. Then he'd release you from it all, and palm your pussy with long, calming strokes to bring you back down - until he was ready to attack your senses again, bringing you just a bit higher than the last time.

"Fuck, Jungkook..." you sobbed after the umpteenth rise and fall. "Fuck... I want more.”

You weren’t sure what more it was you wanted - but you just needed more. More of his lips, more of his fingers… more of him… “I want you to fuck me.”

“I am fucking you, Y/N,” he said with a menacing tease. That wasn’t what you meant, and he damn well knew it. So… he was the kind who liked a girl to beg.

“I want you inside me."

Once again, the corner of his mouth pulled in a look of delicious and devious satisfaction - there was something about it that you didn’t trust.

He dipped his hand deep into your panties and in a quick move, he returned his fingers to your entrance; and, in an even quicker moment, he stuffed two of his digits deep inside you - nearly lifting you off his floor with their swiftness and strength.

“Ugh!” you mewled, as the action made you feel heady with vertigo. His fingers flapped rapidly inside you, and every ounce of air you had in your lungs became caught in your throat, as your body began to vibrate in time with his flicks.

"Like this?" he asked arrogantly. "You want me inside you like this?"

It also wasn't what you exactly had in mind, but you certainly weren't complaining.

"Jungg–" your vocal chords restricted and your body heaved against him. He squeezed you closer to him with his free arm around your waist, and brought your faces so close together, you could kiss him deep and fervent if you had the ability to do so. He slipped his fingers down your chamber, then shoved them hard and fast back into you - tapping madly against the now discovered pleasure points inside you.

He let the tip of his nose trace softly over your nose, and his lips brush lightly over your lips as he teased you with a kiss. But a tease was all it was - you didn’t have the power to take it further - not when your body was seizing and sputtering without any control.

"Or you, want something bigger?" he asked, tilting his chin as he peered down his nose at you. “You want my dick?”

"Yes," you managed to sputter out.

“Yeah? You wanna take this cock like a good little slut?”

Holy fuck. Your mind and body reacted immediately, and he knew it all too well. Your pussy muscles immediately constricted around his fingers - clamping down on them so hard that he struggled to jostle them through your chamber.

“Oh, fuck, you like that, eh?” he derided, and you never felt so… corrupt.

“Yes,” you cried out your command. “I want your cock inside me, baby.”

“Hm, baby,” he tested the word out. “I like the sound of that.”

“Fuck me and I’ll call you whatever you want,” you said, surprising both yourself and him with how controlled and demanding your tone was.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jungkook smiled as he withdrew his fingers from you. You immediately jumped into action, stripping yourself of your panties and kicking them aside while Jungkook worked away at his own pants. You were done before he had managed to even undo his belt buckle. You swatted his hands away from the metal, and deftly worked to unfasten it, his button, and his zipper in under four seconds.

You half expected him to laugh and tease you about your urgency, but instead he too was overcome with the need to take you right there. He crushed his lips to yours, roughly pulled your bodies together, and violently kicked his pants off his ankles. Within milliseconds, he had you hoisted onto the dresser, his body nestled between your thighs. At the same time, you both reached down between your bodies, to take a hold of his throbbing, dripping cock.

“Oh, shit,” Jungkook suddenly exclaimed - although not in the sexy way, but in the we-have-a-problem kind of way.

“What?” you looked at him, your voice sounding more annoyed than alarmed. What the fuck could possibly be the problem?

“We didn’t talk about protection and shit.”

“Oh,” you shook your head, now feeling silly and a touch irresponsible. “Yeah, um, okay. What are you comfortable with? I’m on birth control and I got a rapid STD test after I found out about… them.”

“So…” he looked at you cautiously. “You… wanna… bare back it?”

Yes, was your reckless reaction. Frankly, you had a deep and twisted desire to let Jungkook inside you without any barriers. You hadn’t allowed Chris that privilege until you were at least six months into your relationship. It was a sign of intimacy, of trust, and of devotion - things he threw away with no regard. So, the idea of letting Jungkook shift your kidneys with his raw, unguarded cock felt like a stab to Chris… even if you were the only one who knew about it. Regardless, you still had a sensible side, and your sensible side had one more question. “Are you clean?”

“Mm hm,” he nodded. “Saw the Doc last month. Clean bill of health. But I got condoms in my drawer,” he pointed his thumb over his shoulder, and you followed where it led, noticing the bedside table which was maybe five strides across the room.

“It’s too far,” you grinned.

“You’re right,” his nose scrunched as he grinned back.

Although the interruption was minor, it was still enough to slow what had become a chaotic rush to bring yourselves together. Slowed… but not cooled.

Your lips met again, your tongues began to tangle once more - but this time, you were sure to savour it. To savour him… his taste, his tact, the small sounds that rumbled in the back of his throat, and echoing noises of your moving lips and hands.

You broke the kiss when you felt the tip of his cock pushing against your folds. You looked down, wanting to see his dick hard and erect before it disappeared inside you. Jungkook looked down too, and together you admired the scene. He held his member stiff in his hands as he guided the shaft along the length of your pussy, soaking it in your juices. He brought his tip to your clit, circling the bud several times, then tapping it a few times more - making you squirm and jolt with need and longing.

Then finally - fucking finally - he dragged the thick, pulsing head downward, and pressed it over the folds guarding your entrance. You shuffled over the dresser, spreading your legs a bit wider to allow him complete, unrestricted access. You reached downward, covering his cock holding hand with yours, and together you positioned him right where he needed to be - then he began his ascent.

You felt his tip breach past your folds, and watched as the first inch disappeared inside you. Your mouth fell open, as did his - and together you exhaled as he conquered another inch, and then another. The eroticism of it all caused your walls to quiver around him; quivering around him made your pussy tingle with pleasure; and pleasure forced your chamber to clamp down around his cock, unsure if it wanted to suck him into you or push him back out.

“Fuuuuck, Y/N,” Jungkook exhaled a groan. “Fuck, you feel good.”

Your pussy fluttered again, and his cock slipped further into you, meeting resistance, but persevering as he slid his way through you, until finally he was balls deep and bottomed out.

He pressed his forehead against your temple, kissing that sweet spot below your ear. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips on your skin, and how it complimented the delicious burn of your insides adjusting to his size. He reveled in the feeling of your silky walls around him, and snaked his hands around your hips to shuffle you and him into perfect alignment.

You began to burn with the need for him to move. You slid your one hand up his neck, then into his hair, pulling his face to yours so you could kiss him once more. You tightened your limbs around his waist, encouraging him in that way as well - but it was your words that inspired him the most.

“Fuck me, Jungkook,” you said as you tugged his head backwards, ensuring he could see how serious you were. His eyes flared with salacious desire, both loving the control and demand you had over him, but also challenged by it.

He drew his hips backwards in one long, slick drag of his cock, then pressed them forward - again, long, slick and filling. He did it again, testing his angles and adjusting himself accordingly, then again, and again… until he found a steady rhythm.

He pumped himself into you, and - God damn - did he ever feel fantastic. The way he moved through you, making you moan as he stuffed you full, and whine as he left you feeling empty. He rocked his hips in smooth, consistent waves - and you keened each time his mound pressed against your sensitive clit.

You dropped both your hands behind you, pressing them into the surface of the dresser and leaning back to let him fuck you deeper and harder. He did, and soon enough the squelch of his cock slipping in and out of you, and the claps of your hips colliding could be heard throughout the house.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you threw your head back, as a microburst of pleasure pulled your limbs tight with electric shock. “Oh, fuck.”

When you were able to look at him again, your heart began to beat with dangerous aggression. You couldn’t get over the way this man saw you, admired you. He bit his lip as he studied your face, and as his eyes drank in and appreciated every about your pleasure flushed body. He thrusted in and out of you, fixated on how your tits bounced, how the flesh of your thighs rippled with each impact, and how your belly restricted and relaxed between pumps. He seemed so damn controlled, like he was hours away from coming, whereas you were mere moments. But then, a deep, long, guttural groan rumbled up from within him, and you keened a high pitched noise at the way it turned you on.

“Ugh,” he exhaled again. “Ugh… uh…” each sound a touch deeper, signaling his rising climax.

“I’m–” you tried to warn him of the orgasm barreling towards you, but the moment you spoke, he grabbed you roughly under your ass - and before you knew it, you found yourself facing the wall, palms pressed into wood, and body bent over the dresser.

“Baby,” you keened as Jungkook re-entered you from behind. He somehow felt thicker, hotter, and longer as his cock once more filled your channel. He fucked into you once in a hard and fast pulse of his hips, and your hands skidded down the surface of the dresser. You then felt his fingers card their way through the hair on the back of your head and, with a light pull, he bent you backwards - making you stare yourself and him down in the mirror before you.

You wanted to call out to fucking God. The image before you was so hot and nasty. You could see clearly his sweat-dampened skin and how it pulled tight over his muscles, which contracted and flexed with each and every buck of his hips.

He began to fuck you mercilessly, and your calls to the heavens became primal roars for release. He was so thick and hot inside you. So rough and ruthless. He was no longer breaking the ice – he was breaking you apart.

Your eyes threatened to roll back in your skull, but you wanted so badly to see the images presented before you. You wished Chris could see this image. You wished Stephanie could see it too.

You didn’t know why… but that thought made you hornier than hell. You felt a fresh wave of arousal drip between your thighs and soak Jungkook’s dick. The thought of them watching you get fucked by this man. The way their faces would twist in jealousy and regret. The way Jungkook would threaten Chris with a possessive stare, and taunt Stephanie with the knowledge that you possessed him.

You reached between your legs, and began circling your clit with your fingers - wanting to capitalize on the feeling of Jungkook’s cock and the mess of your debasing thoughts. But he was having none of it…

He scooped an arm around your waist, and in another quick moment, you were off the dresser and weighted against his hard body. He grabbed a hold of your one tit in his palm, kneading and twisting your nipple with his fingers, while his other hand dipped down to replace your fingers which were pleasuring yourself. He wanted to be the one to make you come, all on his own.

You bent your neck backwards and over his shoulder, reaching behind his neck to cling again to the hair at his nape - needing something to tether you to the earth. He nibbled on your ear, bit into your shoulder, pinched your nipple, rubbed your clit, all while continuing to fuck you into oblivion.

You didn’t have a chance to warn him you were about to come - then again, it seemed as if he didn’t have a warning of his own. The moment his deep voice shot high in his throat and started to come out in short, pitched moans, was the moment you began to tumble off the edge.

“Ohhh!,” your orgasm squealed into the room, and your muscles pulled tight, bending your spine and curving your body into his. Your vision went dark, then burst with millions of technicoloured stars. Your hearing muffled, and you lost the ability to breathe. A pure, radiant tingle sparkled through your every vein, like your blood had been replaced with warm, bubbling champagne.

You felt Jungkook’s body begin to convulse against you, as his hand motions and waving hips became sloppy and erratic. He was coming too, and his hot, whining breaths on your shoulder ended in a heavy roar as he crescendoed, and long spurts of cum were released inside you.

You both fell forward - your hands finding the wood surface of the dresser again, and Jungkook finding your shaking and fragile body a sufficient place to rest his head.

You panted yourself out of the stars and back into reality, and Jungkook did the same. His hands were around the hollows of your hips, like he was holding you there, unwilling to let you move. You felt his lips then press warm over your spine, as he took a few moments to appreciate the taste of your post-coital skin.

“What’s this,” you heard his disheveled voice behind you, then you felt a heavy finger trace the small of your back - and you realized what he was referring to.

“That’s my tramp stamp,” you announced, laughing at the 16 year old that shamed you with the decision. “I don’t really like it.”

It was a fucking dolphin. Not a dolphin fucking, just a stupid dolphin you had zero attachment to. There were other reasons you didn’t like it - Stephanie was with you when you got your tattoo. She got one herself. They weren’t friendship tattoos or anything, but the memory of getting them together made it feel like it tethered her to you. You had big fish to fry these past few days, but now that you thought about it, it might be a good time to have it removed.

“It’s sexy. I love a good tramp stamp.”

“Thanks,” you said, as you moved to press yourself off the dresser. Jungkook pulled himself out of you, then guided you to turn around so he could hold you sweetly in his arms. “She was with me when I got it,” you gave him a comical shrug.

“Ah,” he nodded, understanding now. “I can cover it for you.”

“Right,” you mused, remembering that “Tattooist” was one of his alleged work-for-pennies jobs.

“I mean… maybe not right now. It's not a lot of fun fucking right after a back tattoo. The rubbing and all,” he winked. You chuckled.

“Okay, well… thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Jungkook stretched his arms a little further around you, pulling you tight against him. You wrapped your arms around him as well, and you pulled yourselves together for a sweet, but simple post-sex ceremonial kiss. When the kiss broke, he still held you there, smoothing his palm softly over the length of your back.

“So, what do you wanna do now?” he asked. “You hungry?”

“Um,” you looked around the room as you thought for a moment, unsure what you were supposed to do. With Chris, you’d either cuddle up in bed, or you’d run off to do something written in your day planner. But being up here, in Jungkook’s house, it was like you were trapped in a vacation. You didn’t have any commitments or responsibilities or expectations. You could just… be…

You looked up at him when you had an answer. “Do you think I could take a shower? I was in the car all night and all.”

“Sure,” he nodded. “You want company?”

You bit your lip to suppress your grin. You might like company… just not right now. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind a few moments to myself… if that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay. I’ll get you a towel.”

With that, he took you by the hand, and he walked you across his bedroom and towards a partially opened door. You hadn’t really noticed it before, but it was fair to assume it led to an ensuite bathroom. A luxury cabin like this had to have an ensuite bathroom.

You were close… the door led to a bathroom, but it first took you through a stupidly large walk-in closet.

“Oh my God,” you shrieked like a fanboy seeing his celebrity crush for the first time, and Jungkook snorted at your reaction.

“I didn’t know you had such a hard on for closet space,” he teased. "I'll fuck you in here if you'd like."

“Shut up, you don’t understand,” you slapped him gently with the back of your hand. He really didn’t understand. The closet was basically barren. He only used one measly section, and it was essentially nothing but t-shirts, sweat-shirts and jeans. He also didn’t understand because your house back home didn’t actually have any closets at all. It was a stupid oversight from the 20th century designer who built it, and it’s subsequent owners who did bare minimum reparations to it.

Jungkook gave your hand a tug, and you let him guide your drooling self through the closet and into the ensuite, where once again you gasped.

A tub.

A bathtub.

A real bathtub.

It was everything you looked for in a tub. It was long, and wide, and deep (like a great dick,) had jets, and no shower head was above it. You could easily soak in it and submerge your tits and knees under the water at the same time… and wasn’t that the dream?

It was also just incredibly romantic: flanked by riverstone tile, and installed next to a breezy window with soft views of a garden outside. You could instantly imagine yourself in it, surrounded by candles and bubbles, sipping a glass of wine as you enjoyed the warm breeze wafting into the space with the sounds of the forest. You could imagine Jungkook in there too - sitting at the other end of the tub, or perhaps you would be resting against his chest.

You shook the thought away. It was a nice fantasy, and if you were lucky, one you could explore… later. For now, you two had only fucked once, and this was a fucking arrangement. You didn’t need to start adding intimacy to the mix.

“You can use it if you want,” Jungkook shook you from your imagination. “I never do.”

“You don’t deserve this house, Jungkook,” you ridiculed him. “Unused walk-in closet, unused bathtub. Tsk.”

“Well,” he scooped you against him again, and you wrapped your arms around him... again. This act was beginning to feel as natural as it did with Chris. “Maybe you can show me how to live in it right.”

“Maybe,” you winked.

“Go ahead. Take a bath. Enjoy it.”

“No,” you sighed. “I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep in there and drown. I think I’m starting to feel the effects of my all-nighter.”

It was true. After your climax, you thought your muscles were feeling tired and drained from sex. But as the minutes passed since, you recognized that you were indeed just tired.

“Well, why don’t after you shower you take a nap? I’ll go make myself busy.”

“No, I don’t want…” you trailed off. It felt strange to kick Jungkook out of his own room when you had asked so much of him. “I don’t wanna sleep all afternoon and then be up all night.”

Jungkook’s gaze darken into something sadistic, and you were sure you could hear his thoughts. “I thought the plan was to be up all night, Y/N,” he said. Your nether regions agreed with him. “Do it. You’ll feel better.”

“Okay,” you nodded reluctantly. “Don’t let me sleep too long.”

“I won’t,” he promised with a final kiss before he let you go, then rummaged the cupboard for a towel.

You weren’t sure how long you had showered, but the water had felt so good over your skin and muscles that you just couldn’t pull yourself out of there. You were afraid you had nearly drained his tank. When you returned to his room, you discovered Jungkook’s windows had electric blinds, and that Jungkook had darkened the room for you. You also found an oversized t-shirt sprawled across his bed. It was a shirt from his band’s tour three years ago, and it was obvious he had laid it out for you to wear as pajamas. You took it in your hands, and brought it to your face, taking in a deep sniff of its scent. It smelt like him, like the soap you had just used in his shower. You were a touched pleased it didn’t smell like some other girl - although you wouldn’t be surprised if this shirt hadn’t already been worn by a groupie or two.

You pulled it on, then crawled under the sheets, groaning and stretching as your body recognized it was time to power down. You curled your body around a pillow, and within moments, you were fast asleep.

Go to Chapter 4.

[kulay-ng-banaag]

At some point, this fandom needs to take a good, hard look at its own internalized colorism, and unpack that sh*t instead of actively othering proudly brown Asians like this.

Yes, it’s true that there remains a strong obsession for white skin in the Philippines. I even internalized it growing up. It took a LONG TIME for me to unpack it, but ask yourselves if you think that dark-skinned people — whether they be black or other brown folks like Latin Americans, Pacific Islands, South Asians, other SEAsians, EVEN THE OCCASIONAL EASIAN WITH A NICE, NATURAL TAN (I’ve spotted folks like that while touring Osaka) — are ugly and need fixing. If you wouldn’t, then why are you still beating yourself up for a beauty trend initiated by capitalists who do not care about you?

Yes, it’s true that the successful marketing of white skin as the ideal cannot be mutually exclusive from the deeply-embedded colonial mentality. Ironically, it’s also lowkey misleading if only because there was an existing notion since precolonial times (see: the Visayan Binukot). I do want to add a couple of nuances to the Binukot reference: (1) Comprehending that people living in shaded seclusion prevents their skin from darkening, and thereby making it an essential part of the process in preserving the ideal beauty, is NOT the same as going white so as to integrate oneself into the white race; (2) What counted as fair skin back then is unlikely to be the exact same as we understand it in contemporary times (a very light beige & the warm undertone is clear vs porcelain white with a pink undertone popularized by P*nd’s ads).

Disappointed but not surprised — but exceptionally pissed enough to rant this out to the wild.