#so he never really reflects on how he’s contributing to these issues and how he can improve

[problematicbyler]

an incomplete history of byler sexuality discourse

and how widespread fandom purity culture and homophobia created a flourishing nsfw sub-fandom

some may call me chronically online, but i call myself a fandom historian. i've been a member of some fandom or another since i was about thirteen, and i've always been interested in the rise and fall of fandom discourse. though it's annoying in the moment it's happening, i think it's very interesting and telling to look back at the overall arcs and trends.

so, let's talk about the many times the fandom has cancelled people over byler sexuality, and how each level of "hornygate" has contributed to the growth of the proship/byler smut community.

(i use the term proship in its intended definition, which is to say, not "problematic shipping," but rather being pro-fiction, anti-censorship, and anti-harassment; it is a position of believing the fiction one creates or consumes doesn't reflect a person's real life beliefs or morals.)

i have been a stranger things lover since season 1, a byler shipper since season 2, and an active part of the byler community on tumblr since season 4. i'll mostly be focusing on post-season 4 discourse because that's what i've really been most present for and that was the period that really marked a turning point in the fandom.

seasons 1-3

i wasn't as plugged into fandom discourse back in the day, but the broad strokes of early discourse was mostly thinly veiled homophobia. claiming that it was sexualization to assume will or mike could be queer despite blatant queer coding, implying that analysts were no better than will's bullies to assume his sexuality, etc etc. people were criticized for shipping byler at all because they were so young (but these people naturally had no issue with mileven, so, again, homophobia).

season 4 (may-july 2022)

now, season 4. this is where byler was brought to the attention of a lot more fans, and stranger things' viewership reached wider than ever. the byler fandom on tumblr booms from 4k to 100k over the course of season 4's release.

this brought a lot of new people who have never been in fandoms before, people who never learned don't like don't read or your kink is not my kink and that's okay or ship and let ship.

or, a lot of times, people who had only been in fandoms for celebrities and bands, which tend to have different rules when it comes to shipping and sex, because they're real people. hence a lot of young antis' conflation of character with their actors, but that's a different rant.

so with a rapidly growing fandom, a show ripe for analysis, and the art of media literacy bleeding out on the ground in front of us, the hellscape of the fandom post-season 4 in 2022 followed as such:

august 2022

jo/kendra gate where two extremely popular analysts were called out for "sexualizing" byler while being adults (early to mid 20s). they were dogpiled and harassed because one of them said that will was giving mike "bedroom eyes" (he was) and one of them said mike was checking will out (he was):

pyshiie and moogate. the proship side of byler twitter rose up and started to divide itself. i'll credit my own joining-the-dark-side to pyshiie and moo, formerly barbjeanisms, who were two popular artists called out respectively for sexualizing byler and generally being proship. similarly, people were called out and criticized for even following or interacting with those accounts after this discourse.

september 2022

hosegate is the most famous across the byler fandom, and it's when some users proposed that the scene in the pizzeria uses phallic imagery to imply mike turns will on (or vice versa) and a lot of people thought that was too sexualized, it caused a divide, and more fanpolicing, etc.

october 2022

the artist noodlesandtea was harassed for having liked arguably nsfw bakudeku art (they were shirtless, it wasn't explicit) on the same account where they draw characters who are minors. they also drew byler kissing, which was a problem for some? anyone who defended them was also called a pedo, naturally. noodles also got called out for having drawn fanart of the popular e-rated fanfiction....

the unmarked mixtape. a massively popular sequel to a massively popular fic, the red envelope. for a long time, those were the most widely recommended byler fics, but it very soon became taboo to even admit to reading them because the sequel has explicit sex and the first has them making out.

sonnet116 gate is another fic that was beloved and then rapidly turned on by byler twitter because it had implied, fade to black sex scenes. it was about them hooking up but had no smut. and even the non explicit idea of that was offensive and pedophilic of anyone who dared read it. around this time, another fic was called out for having will moaning into a kiss, because writing a teenager moaning was also offensive and pedophilic.

i'm told i (jana / troublebyler gate?) may have influenced a lot of people joining twitter for byler smut after writing illicit affairs and some other smutty oneshots in rapid succession, seeing a lot of byler shippers moving to the proship side of the fandom just to discuss and write byler smut. i also hosted a little fandom gossip column on my curiouscat where a lot of folks confessed to reading or writing smut while pretending to be "normal" in the "main" fandom. it basically revealed/implied that a large amount of popular authors, artists, and accounts were secretly pro byler smut, and that many proshippers were "undercover" in the "main" fandom.

the blocklist era. around this time the "main" fandom also created a "st twt safety" account on twitter which was basically targeted harassment and mass reporting of proshippers. the account does warn of some genuine bad actors sending gore images via dms, being racist, etc. but by far, the majority of it was simply calling out proshippers for sexualizing byler, sharing screenshots they thought were "gross," which only resulted in spreading nsfw content to unintended audiences of minors that likely never would have seen the nsfw accounts otherwise.

november 2022

practice kissing gate is where a handful of popular fic writers were criticized for writing practice kissing fics (such as undertow), and in fact, any amount of byler making out, because adults "fantasizing" about teenagers kissing was "gross."

the proship corner of st twitter continued to grow a lot thanks to so many lovely fan creators, all of whom i couldn't possibly list but who have done a lot for the community! but we continued to get bombarded with endless callout posts and block lists and witch hunting. people were unabashedly policing people's following lists and likes on twitter to call people out for engaging with any questionable users or content. (if you search byler twitter now you can still see the wreckage of so many witch hunts.)

onward through 2023

over time things have mostly calmed down, or at least enough of the folks on "opposing sides" of the fandom have mutually blocked each other to survive. this is likely also influenced by the hiatus leaving the fandom to quiet down, the collapse of twitter-turned-x having many users migrate their fandom content elsewhere, and the mass exodus of many people from the fandom for political reasons. if i had to guess, the ramp-up to season 5 will see all new conflict as more "casual" fans return to the fandom. but who's to say.

which brings us to now:

spicybylerpolls gate, wherein the byler tag on tumblr collectively had to reckon with the fact that people want byler to have sex and it doesn't make them creeps to vote in silly polls about it. people criticized the blog for being overly sexualized and pure fantasy versus more "acceptable" analysis, with many making sweeping moralizing statements about anyone who dared interact with the blog.

this has kicked off tumblr's own sort of horny revolution in encouraging folks to be more open on here, whereas previously we were confined to our corner of twitter.

so in summary:

people over and over again put fan creators on a pedestal just to turn on them when they're "betrayed" when a person's views did not one-to-one line up to theirs.

teens in the fandom especially were "betrayed" by adults in the fandom they thought were "safe" (and i would argue that self proclaimed "safe" adults in fandom are far more dangerous to real life minors than the proship fans who sexualize fictional characters but dont interact with real teens)

most everything has been fueled by widespread ageism at any fan over the age of 18, widespread homophobia and puritanism in regards to exploring queer sexuality or discussing sex at all

so much hate has been over what are essentially "thought crimes", with people watering down serious accusations like pedophilia into a petty insult over disagreements on fiction

and the cycle repeats itself endlessly until things devolve back into witch hunting and policing peoples following and likes etc

the best part to me is that every single cancellation just resulted in more people flooding to the horny side of the fandom to post more freely and without shame. every time a person on twitter posted screenshots of my account to say how "gross" it was (while simultaneously exposing my 18+ nsfw content to their audience of minors) i had a surge in followers. the more the fandom squeezes, the more people slip from its hold.

but that doesn't make the harassment campaigns okay, and it doesn't mean the fandom didn't do massive amounts of harm to real people in an attempt to protect fictional characters.

my hope going forward is that the fandom can coexist as a community where people don't have to like or agree with certain content to treat the people who create it with respect and dignity. and i hope that, while this side of the fandom might grow more on tumblr, we don't have to relive the same old discourses and go through the same cycles we went through on twitter.

and remember kids, the block button is both free and fun.

[decepti-thots]

spurred on by your Drift and Roddy post from earlier, i'm terribly curious about your take on Prowl and Rodimus' dynamic/relationship? i never read through LL so i may be missing context but my read on the Overlord thing was very much that he was forced onto Rodimus, much the same way Megatron was, but i never really see anyone talk about them in relation to each other

I am going to first answer this purely based on the text of the comic, which is all I consider to be definitively canon. Then after we establish what I feel about that, I'll bring up some word-of-god as additional optional context.

Based on what we see in the comic in early MTMTE, we establish very clearly that Prowl and Rodimus do not get on, and specifically that Rodimus openly detests Prowl. He mocks him to his face; it's neither subtle nor very surprising. And in the Costa run, we see in Prowl's burn book he has a low opinion of Rodimus, so. We can assume they are openly disdainful of each other as members of command and that this is long-running.

I think this negativity, the open disdain, is where the read that Rodimus was somehow 'made' to take Overlord comes in. Why the hell would Rodimus do a favour for someone he didn't like? One he does not stand to benefit from? It therefore tracks it was somehow coerced.

The big question though is... if that was the case, why did Rodimus not bring it up to Drift. There's a post-RiL scene where Rodimus bemoans that he agreed to do it because he realizes it was a stupid-ass decision now it's all gone to shit, one Drift opposed, in The Sound of Breaking Glass:

“This is my fault, not yours. We were standing in Prowl’s office, and he was trying to convince me that bringing Overlord onboard was ‘right and proper’, and you called me an idiot for even considering it.”

If Rodimus had been pressured, even blackmailed, he'd be taking this opportunity to cuss out that Prowl forced him to, or perhaps even to cuss himself out for bowing to whatever pressure Prowl subjected him to. He does not. He says Drift called him an idiot for considering Prowl's persuasion. And what that says to me is that Prowl indeed just persuaded Rodimus, seemingly by painting it as a contribution to the post-war Autobot cause that would reflect well on Rodimus.

Which makes sense, because while they respond to it very differently, Rodimus and Prowl have one thing in common; they are unhappy with how the war ended and how anti-climactic their defeat of the Decepticons has been. Prowl continues to spiral into treating the war as ongoing as he becomes conspiratorial, while Rodimus leaves the planet entirely in an attempt to restore it to a 'golden age' and elide the issue of making co-habitation with Decepticons and Neutrals work. But they're both in denial about this just... being how things are now. As much as Rodimus loathes Prowl personally, he's also presumably being buttered up as someone who understands the risk isn't gone, the Autobots need to still act like they're not done with things, and look, we need that phase sixer, Rodimus, you understand that...

Basically: I think he agreed out of a combination of ego and like... that sense that at least Prowl shared a dissatisfaction with the compromises everyone else was making and which Rodimus felt they shouldn't. And as an impulsive person inclined to trying to make big grand moves and act decisively, but whose judgement often winds up instead simply making him reckless, I find it completely plausible, and have always assumed this is how it went.

As for word of god... well, turns out that was apparently also how Roberts saw it, more or less. Which I found out after the fact. Hah. He's spoken about how he basically thinks that Prowl went 'oh well, if you're not able to step up for the cause, I'll find someone who can do what needs to be done' and Rodimus got defensive and talked himself into it while Drift, I assume, dropped the sycophant act for once and rightfully called him stupid as hell for it. LMAO.

[jimnocturnalsblog]

Cliff Burton

This guy and Paul McCartney are probably my two favourite bassists. With Cliff I love the fact he doesn't do what's expected, always following his own instinct. Your average metal bassist will follow the guitars and fatten the heavy sound. In punk or rock and roll the bass will stick to or around the root notes whilst locking in with the drums. In jazz the bass will sometimes lock in but often become a lead instrument in itself.

Cliff Burton preferred to do all of the above. I occasionally see people saying things like 'if you listen to the isolated bass he's really sloppy'. But I take issue with this horseshit. First off, Metallica famously write and record their songs with drums and rhythm guitar only, or at least did in the early part of their career. The drums locked in with the guitar and the bass was added later, leaving room for Cliff to play around a bit and have fun. When you listen to early Metallica he never really goes where you expect. Which brings me to another reason why his work is so different and so much more interesting than your average metal bassist - the man himself and his unique character.

Essentially a hippie in a metal band, Cliff was known through his life for being his own person, unbothered by what other people thought of him. One of the most well known characteristics of Cliff was his steadfast dedication to wearing double denim with flared jeans, something that in the early/mid 80s was fashion suicide. But Cliff simply didn't give a fuck. Even his bandmates would take the piss out of his bellbottoms but Cliff would light up a joint, have a beer and laugh it off. He was a voracious reader and lover of classical music as well as classic rock and hardcore punk, liking what he liked regardless of how 'cool' or popular it was. This independence of spirit, this proud and peaceful individuality, was deeply respected and loved by those around him and, in my humble-as-shit opinion, was totally reflected in his bass playing. That willingness to do his own thing and stand out is displayed throughout his contributions to Metallica's early albums, especially so on his legendary bass solo ('take one') 'Anesthesia'. The sounds he achieves on this are incredible. Give it a go if you haven't already.

An inspiration, great musician and just generally a legend.

[doormatty3]

Echoes Of Madness (Possessed!Josh Lambert x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Summary:

[Possessed!Josh Lambert x Reader] [Possessed!Josh Lambert x Female Reader]  You’ve been the Lambert family’s maid since Renai hired you when Dalton was in a coma, desperate for help with the household and when he recovered, you became an integral part of them.  Despite your close proximity to the family, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy towards the bond shared between Renai and Josh. However, Josh’s demeanour shifted after Dalton awoke from his coma, becoming moody and occasionally downright rude towards his wife. Yet, despite these shortcomings, you can’t deny your attraction towards him. Amidst the growing tension within the household, you can’t ignore the strange occurrences surrounding Josh.  The more you witness, the warier you grow of him, grappling with confusion over his erratic behaviour - you can’t help but feel like someone else pulls the strings.  And when you find him screaming at his reflection in the mirror, you realise he shares that magnetic attraction towards you - and you can be sure of one thing: You’re in for one hell of a ride. OR: Josh is possessed and possesses you with his cock.

Wordcount: 16851

Warnings: 18+, extremely dubious consent, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, vaginal sex, smut, dirty talk, older man/ younger woman, daddy issues, face fucking, blowjob, fingering, spanking, bondage, rough oral sex, biting, choking, forced orgasm

A/N: You ask - I deliver 

Content Warning: There's some extremely dubious consent - To be honest, the whole smut is kind of dubious. The protagonist is into it but it's still insanely problematic... So proceed with care and remember that Josh is after all possessed (and really hot).

If someone had asked you in your childhood what you’d end up doing for a living, being a maid wouldn’t have crossed your mind. But life has a way of surprising one, and yours took some turns and twists.

So one day, you stumbled upon a newspaper ad while out of work: a family was seeking a housekeeper because their son was in a coma. And that’s how you became the housekeeper for the Lambert family - a role you’ve held for quite some time now.

It had been Renai Lambert who sought assistance when both she and her husband Josh were overwhelmed by the emotional and logistical challenges, and maintaining the household became an insurmountable task.

In those trying times, you provided more than just cleaning and tidying services; you offered a sense of stability and support amidst the chaos and befriended the whole family.

Sure, there were a few times when they couldn’t pay you on time, but you never let it bother you. You understood the financial strain they were under, especially with Dalton’s medical bills looming over them. You knew they would compensate you as soon as they could, and that was enough for you to carry on with your duties.

Then, as if by magic, Dalton woke from his coma, and suddenly, everything seemed right again. 

Initially, you harboured concerns about the future of your employment, fearing that your services might no longer be needed in light of Dalton’s recovery. However, to your relief, the Lamberts made it clear that they valued your presence and contributions beyond the context of Dalton’s illness.

_____

As you go about your duties within the Lambert household, a pang of envy occasionally creeps into your thoughts when you observe the seemingly perfect relationship between Renai and Josh. Their bond radiates with an undeniable warmth and understanding, a stark contrast to the complexities of your own personal life. Despite the challenges they’ve faced, their connection remains unwavering, leaving you to yearn for a love as deep and steadfast as theirs.

Josh, in particular, captures your attention with his striking features and undeniable charisma. His clear blue eyes sparkle with kindness and determination, drawing you in with their magnetic allure. His brown, short hair frames his face in a way that accentuates his rugged charm, while his strong yet gentle hands speak volumes of his dedication to his family. His slim and toned physique exudes confidence and strength, a testament to his unwavering commitment to both his loved ones and himself.

But it’s not just his physical attributes that captivate you; it’s his unwavering devotion to Renai and Dalton that truly sets him apart. His willingness to sacrifice and his boundless love for his family is evident in every action and gesture, leaving you with a sense of admiration tinged with a hint of longing.

And then there’s his laughter - a melodic symphony that fills the room with joy and warmth whenever he’s near. It’s infectious, drawing you into its embrace and momentarily easing the burdens weighing on your heart. 

Though you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for harbouring such thoughts, you can’t deny the undeniable pull that Josh exerts over you. 

But you noticed that the aftermath of Dalton’s coma took a toll on Josh and Renai’s relationship.

The once-unbreakable bond between them seemed to fray at the edges, leaving behind jagged wounds that festered beneath the surface.

Josh’s demeanour, in particular, underwent a noticeable shift, oscillating between moments of distant detachment and flashes of his former warmth and affection. There are times when his behaviour bordered on outright rudeness, his words sharp, and his actions cold, leaving Renai to navigate the turbulent waters of their relationship alone. 

Yet, amidst the chaos, there were fleeting glimpses of the man you once knew - the devoted husband who doted on his wife and cherished his family with unwavering devotion.

But you knew better than to dwell on such observations, pushing aside any thoughts that strayed into forbidden territory. Josh was your employer, and his marriage to Renai was sacrosanct - a bond you had no right to intrude upon. 

Despite his friendly demeanour towards you, you remained acutely aware of the professional boundaries that governed your relationship, steadfast in your resolve to maintain a respectful distance. It was a reality you begrudgingly accepted, even as the lines between employer and employee blurred with each passing day. And so, you buried any inklings of desire or longing beneath a facade of professional decorum, resigned to the silent ache that gnawed at your heart in the quiet moments of solitude.

_____

Lost in the rhythmic drone of the vacuum cleaner, you move through the Lamberts’ living room with a sense of detachment, as if operating on autopilot. The monotonous hum of the machine serves as a backdrop to the tumult of thoughts swirling within your mind, drowning out the outside world as you retreat into the sanctuary of your own thoughts.

With each pass of the vacuum cleaner, your mind drifts further into the depths of contemplation, grappling with the complexities of the situation unfolding before you. The tension between Josh and Renai, the fragile facade of normalcy that masks the underlying turmoil - it all weighs heavily on your shoulders, threatening to engulf you in its wake.

Despite your best efforts to remain focused on the task at hand, your thoughts wander down winding pathways, exploring the myriad possibilities and uncertainties that lie ahead. What will become of the Lambert family in the wake of Dalton’s recovery? Will Josh and Renai find their way back to each other, or will the cracks in their relationship widen into irreparable chasms?

The tension between Josh and Renai, the forbidden desires that simmer beneath the surface - they linger like shadows in the recesses of your mind, haunting you with their persistent presence.

As the vacuum cleaner glides effortlessly across the carpet, you find yourself yearning for the respite of silence, a moment of clarity amidst the chaos. But the relentless hum of the machine serves as a constant reminder of the reality that surrounds you, anchoring you to the present moment even as your mind drifts into the unknown.

For a fleeting moment, you consider switching off the vacuum, allowing the silence to envelop you like a comforting embrace. But the clamour of your inner turmoil proves too overwhelming, driving you to continue your relentless pursuit of cleanliness and order within the Lambert household.

And so, you continue to vacuum the Lamberts’ living room, lost in the labyrinth of your own thoughts, navigating the twists and turns of emotion with each step. 

Over the deafening roar of the vacuum cleaner, you hear a noise - a faint rustling, like the flutter of wings against a silent sky.

The abrupt disruption jolts you from your reverie, scattering the fragments of your thoughts like leaves in the wind. Startled, you glance around the living room, determined to find the source of the disruption before you halt the incessant drone with a swift motion.

Its sudden silence leaves a void that echoes with anticipation.

Your senses, now heightened, scan the surroundings for any sign of disturbance. The air crackles with tension as you strain to discern the source of the commotion, but all you hear is the hushed murmur of the house settling into its familiar rhythm and the muted thrum of your heartbeat echoing in the cavernous expanse of the room.

Just as you begin to second-guess the validity of the noise, it comes again - a sharp thud reverberating from somewhere above, sending a jolt of apprehension coursing through your veins. Your heart quickens its pace as you realise that the sound is authentic and not a product of your imagination. 

Curiosity stirs within you, a dormant ember reignited by the tantalising promise of the unknown.  With measured steps, you ascend the staircase, each creak of the floorboards adding to the eerie atmosphere that permeates the hallway.

The dim light casts elongated shadows that dance along the walls, heightening the sense of unease that settles over you like a heavy cloak. They cling to the walls like spectres, their formless tendrils reaching out to ensnare unwary travellers in their embrace. The faint scent of lavender lingers in the air, mingling with the musty aroma of age-old secrets veiled in dust and decay.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you hesitate. Your pulse is loud in your ears, drowning out the sound of your own footsteps. 

The hallway stretches out before you, a labyrinth of dimly lit corridors and closed doors shrouded in mystery. 

Your eyes scan the surroundings, searching for any sign of disruption, any clue as to what could have caused the disturbance. But aside from the faint glow of lamplight and the soft rustle of curtains in the breeze, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Summoning your courage, you press forward, guided by the siren song of the unknown. The floorboards creak beneath your weight, their protest a haunting refrain that echoes through the empty halls. 

The unsettling quiet that follows the disturbance sets your nerves on edge, a sense of unease settling over you like a heavy fog. You hesitate for a moment before mustering the courage to call out for Josh Lambert, the only other person in the household at the time.

“Mr. Lambert?” you call out tentatively, the sound of your voice seeming to dissipate into the silence around you. “Are you there? Is everything alright?”

But the only response is the hollow echo of your own voice bouncing off the walls, amplifying the eerie stillness that surrounds you. A chill runs down your spine as you wait, straining your ears for any sign of life within the house. As the seconds tick by, a creeping sense of dread begins to gnaw at the edges of your consciousness. What if something has happened to Josh? What if you’re alone in this house with whatever caused the disturbance?

With a shaky breath, you take a hesitant step forward, heart pounding in your chest.

“Mr. Lambert, please,” you call out again, your voice tinged with desperation. “Are you there?”

But still, there’s no response, no indication that your words have reached their intended recipient. Fear tightens its grip on your chest, threatening to suffocate you with its weight.

Just as despair threatens to overwhelm you, a faint noise breaks through the oppressive silence - a soft click followed by the creak of a door being opened. Your heart leaps into your throat as you turn towards the sound, your breath catching in your chest.

Finally, the bedroom door swings open, revealing Josh’s familiar form bathed in the soft glow of lamplight. His tousled hair catches the glimmer of light filtering through the window, casting a halo of silver around his face. In the muted shadows of the hallway, his features are softened, his eyes alight with a quiet intensity. The lines of worry that once etched his brow have been smoothed away, replaced by a sense of quiet resolve that lends him an air of quiet confidence.

Relief floods through you like a tidal wave.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself before addressing Josh, whose presence, though comforting, seems to carry an air of unease, a faint tension that sends shivers down your spine - a shift, a shadow that lingers at the edge of perception, eluding your grasp like smoke slipping through your fingers.

You study him intently, searching for any telltale sign of discord, but his demeanour remains serene, his gaze steady and unwavering. 

“Mr. Lambert,” you begin tentatively, your voice wavering slightly, “is everything okay? I could have sworn I heard something falling over multiple times.”

Josh’s expression shifts, his features momentarily clouded with a hint of uncertainty, his gaze darting around the hallway as if searching for answers in the shadows.

“I didn’t hear anything,” he replies, his voice low and tinged with a subtle edge that sends a chill down your spine, “But let’s check it out together. Just to be sure.”

You follow Josh hesitantly, a creeping sense of dread gnawing at your insides as you traverse the dimly lit corridors of the house. Each step feels heavier than the last, as if the very air around you is thick with foreboding.

As you search each room, the feeling of unease only intensifies, amplified by Josh’s own palpable sense of tension. His movements are jerky, his eyes darting about as if expecting something - or someone - to leap out at any moment.

Returning to the living room, you can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t quite right. The memory of the strange disturbance lingers like a lingering fog, casting a shadow over the otherwise ordinary surroundings.

“Thank you, Mr. Lambert,” you manage to say, though your voice trembles slightly. “I guess I was just a little jumpy.”

Josh offers you a tight-lipped smile, though it does little to dispel the sense of disquiet that hangs in the air between you.

“No problem,” he replies, his voice strained. “I’m just glad everything seems to be okay.”

Your lips curl into a smile at his words, and as his eyes meet yours, he adds, “And call me Josh, please.”

His request for familiarity sends a sudden rush of warmth flooding your cheeks. You blush furiously, feeling the heat radiating from your face as if it were lit by an internal flame. His gentle smile in response only intensifies the fluttering sensation in your chest, and for a moment, time seems to stand still.

“O-Okay, Josh,” you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. His smile widens at your reaction, a glimmer of amusement dancing in the depths of his eyes. Your breath catches in your throat, a fluttering sensation stirring in the pit of your stomach as you struggle to compose yourself.

“Thank you,” you manage to choke out, your words laced with a hint of embarrassment. His laughter fills the air, a melodic sound that washes over you like a gentle breeze, soothing the tumultuous currents that churn within.

His easygoing demeanour puts you at ease, and you find yourself exhaling a sigh of relief as the tension slowly melts away.

With a playful twinkle in his eye, Josh offers you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before disappearing back into the shadows of the hallway. And as you watch him go, a sense of warmth washes over you, the memory of his smile lingering like a beacon of light in the darkness.

With a newfound sense of confidence, you return to your tasks, the memory of Josh’s smile lighting the way forward, but the feeling of being watched lingering at the edges of your consciousness. And though you try to shake off the unease, you can’t help but feel that something lurks in the shadows.

_____

A few weeks pass, and the memory of the strange encounter with Josh begins to fade into the recesses of your mind. Life in the Lambert household settles into a familiar rhythm, the routine of your duties serving as a comforting anchor amidst the ebb and flow of daily life.

Yet, despite your best efforts to push the memory aside, a nagging sense of unease lingers in the back of your mind - a whisper of doubt that refuses to be silenced.

Today, however, you find yourself in a rush, with an appointment looming on the horizon. The urgency of your departure weighs heavily on your mind as you hurry through your morning routine. With frenzied steps, you navigate through the Lambert household, mentally ticking off tasks from your to-do list.

With a quick glance at the clock, you realise there’s still time to squeeze in one last task before you have to leave - the bathroom could use a quick clean. As you approach the door, intending to get it done swiftly,  the faint murmur of voices catches your attention, causing you to pause in your tracks. Your curiosity is piqued, but you resist the urge to eavesdrop, not wanting to invade anyone’s privacy.

Though you strain to decipher the words since they remain indistinct, muffled by the barrier of the closed door, you recognise Josh’s voice amidst the faint murmurs.

You hesitate, unsure of whether you should proceed with cleaning or come back later. Gathering your courage, you knock lightly on the door, calling out, “Mr. Lambert, it’s me. Can I clean the bathroom now, or should I come back later?”

The voices abruptly fall silent, replaced by a heavy stillness that sends a shiver down your spine. With a furrowed brow, you knock on the door again, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for a response.

After a moment, the door swings open to reveal Josh standing there, a charming smile gracing his features. For a moment, you find yourself breathless, struck by the sight of his handsome features illuminated by the soft glow of the bathroom light.

“Oh, hey there! You can go ahead and clean. Thanks for checking in,” he responds, his tone warm and inviting as he steps aside to allow you entry.

Despite the urgency of your task, you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for interrupting whatever conversation Josh was engaged in. But as you glance back at Josh, his smile unwavering, you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in your stomach.

“Thanks, Mr. Lambert,” you offer apologetically, your manners kicking in automatically. “I didn’t want to interrupt your call.”

Josh’s smile falters for a moment before he shakes his head, his expression puzzled. “Call? Oh, I wasn’t talking to anyone. Don’t worry about it,” he reassures you, his tone genuine.

You pause, taken aback by his response. “I thought I heard you talking in here,” you explain, your voice trailing off as you struggle to find the right words.

But Josh shakes his head, his expression unwavering. “I wasn’t talking to anyone,” he insists, “Maybe you heard something else.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but feel a surge of unease at the certainty in his voice. Could you have been mistaken? The possibility gnaws at you, but deep down, a lingering sense of doubt remains.

As you stand there, grappling with the uncertainty, Josh’s gentle reminder breaks through your thoughts. “And remember,” he adds with a playful glint in his eye, “it’s Josh.”

Your cheeks flush crimson at the reminder, the warmth spreading across your face as you meet his gaze. “Of course, Josh,” your voice steady despite the flutter of excitement in your chest.

Josh’s smile widens at your reaction, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. With a casual wave of his hand, he dismisses the awkward moment, leaving you to ponder the encounter as he exits the room, his footsteps echoing in the hallway beyond. 

Alone once again, you can’t shake the nagging sense of doubt that lingers in your mind.

Why would Josh deny such a mundane thing? And what were those voices you heard? With a heavy sigh, you push aside your concerns and focus on the task at hand, but the mystery of the whispered conversation continues to haunt you as you clean the bathroom.

As you meticulously scrub and polish, your mind races with questions, each unanswered query only deepening the sense of unease that gnaws at your conscience.

_____

The day begins like any other as you unlock the door to the Lambert household, the familiar routine of cleaning the house already settling in.

Yet, the usual calmness is abruptly shattered by a sudden sound that pierces the air - a voice raised in what sounds like frantic conversation. It’s Josh, his tone pressing and animated, echoing through the quiet rooms.

A chill runs down your spine as you freeze in place, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. It’s not the first time you’ve heard Josh engaged in what seems like an intense discussion, but there’s something different this time - a sense of urgency that renders you momentarily breathless.

Unable to ignore the unease gnawing at you, you abandon your cleaning supplies and make your way upstairs, each step heavy with apprehension. The sound of Josh’s voice grows louder with each passing moment, his words becoming more distinct as you approach.

“Mr. Lambert?” you call out tentatively as you climb, your voice seemingly swallowed by the eerie silence that permeates the house. Anxiety gnaws at your insides as you press forward, each step feeling heavier than the last.

After what seems like an eternity, the murmurs of Josh’s voice reach your ears once more. “You have to leave. Leave me alone,” he pleads, the desperation in his tone sending a shiver down your spine.

Approaching the bathroom, your heart pounds in your chest as you push open the door, revealing a sight that leaves you speechless and freezes you in your tracks. 

There stands Josh in front of the mirror, seemingly engaged in a heated argument with his own reflection.

His appearance is startling - a far cry from the composed and collected man you’re accustomed to seeing. Dark circles rim his blue eyes, their usual sparkle replaced by a dull, haunted gaze. His complexion is ashen and sickly, a stark contrast to his usual vitality. And to add to the peculiarity, you notice that his shirt is buttoned wrongly, a small detail that only adds to the unsettling atmosphere.

Caught off guard by the disturbing scene before you, fear grips your entire being as Josh’s gaze meets yours in the mirror. In a split second, instinct takes over, and without a second thought, your fight-or-flight response kicks in. You step back slowly, a wave of terror washing over you as you turn and bolt from the room, desperate to escape the unsettling aura that surrounds Josh.

The urgency of the moment propels you forward, your heart pounding in your chest as you flee from the unsettling encounter in the bathroom. Each step echoes loudly in the empty hallway, reverberating with the weight of fear and uncertainty that grips you.

As you race down the corridor, the sound of Josh’s heavy footsteps reverberates behind you, each thud echoing with a sense of urgency that drives you onward. “Stop!” he commands, his voice filled with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

Despite the pounding of your heart and the adrenaline coursing through your veins, something deep within you refuses to obey. With determination propelling your every move, you push forward, your feet carrying you faster and faster towards the sanctuary of the exit.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you push yourself to go faster, the adrenaline fueling your every movement. The hallway stretches endlessly before you, each turn offering a fleeting glimpse of escape that seems just out of reach.

But just as you reach the end of the hallway, a powerful force crashes into you from behind, knocking you off balance and sending you sprawling against the wall with a resounding thud. Before you can react, Josh is upon you, his entire body pressing you against the surface, trapping you in a suffocating embrace. The look on his face is nothing short of predatory, his eyes ablaze with a frenzied intensity that sends chills down your spine. 

Trapped in his grasp, you are powerless to resist as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin. The air crackles with tension as he gazes down at you, his features contorted in a mix of desperation and something darker, something primal and instinctual.

Despite the looming threat and the palpable fear that courses through your veins, you can’t help but notice the undeniable sensations that accompany Josh’s closeness. His body pressed against yours exudes warmth, a stark contrast to the coldness of the wall against your back.

For a few heart-stopping seconds, Josh simply holds you in his grasp, his gaze locking onto yours with an otherwordly intensity. In that brief, suspended moment, time seems to stand still. The only sound is the frantic pounding of your own heart.

Then, finally, he breaks the silence, his voice a low rumble that cuts through the tension like a knife. “Why did you run from me?” he asks, his words laden with confusion and a hint of hurt.

Caught off guard by the question, you struggle to find the right words, your mind racing as you search for an explanation. The truth is, you’re not entirely sure why you fled from him in the first place - only that the overwhelming sense of fear and unease drove you to act on instinct without pausing to consider the consequences.

“I...I don’t know,” you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was scared…you scared me.”

As the words tumble from your lips, you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the look of hurt that flickers across Josh’s face. Despite the danger of the situation, there’s a vulnerability in his expression that speaks to a deeper, more human side of him - one that you hadn’t anticipated.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

As Josh’s gaze holds yours, a myriad of emotions swirl within you, tangled and tumultuous. Despite the fear that still grips you, you can’t deny the undeniable pull of attraction coursing through your veins, drawing you inexplicably closer to him. 

Your breath grows shallow, your heart hammering in your chest as you struggle to make sense of the conflicting desires that war within you. On one hand, there’s the undeniable danger of the situation - the fear that still lingers in the air, casting a shadow over everything. And yet, beneath it all, there’s a primal, instinctual longing that you can’t ignore - a desire that burns hot and bright, threatening to consume you from within.

You watch Josh with a mix of fascination and trepidation, taking in his otherworldly appearance and the weariness etched into every line of his face. His eyes, blown wide with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, hold a depth of emotion that you can’t quite decipher.

Abruptly, he leans in, running his nose along your neck. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, sending goosebumps erupting in its wake. A soft whimper escapes your lips as his touch ignites a fire deep within you, stirring something that demands to be sated.

Your eyes flutter closed as you surrender to the sensation, losing yourself in the heady rush of desire that courses through your veins. It’s as if every nerve in your body is alight with anticipation, craving the touch of him. You feel a rush of heat flood your cheeks as his warm breath brushes against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His movements are deliberate and purposeful, as if he’s trying to memorise every inch of you.

And then, as his nose traces along your skin, you feel a low, guttural sound rumble from deep within his chest - a primal groan of pleasure and desire that sends a thrill coursing through your veins.

Your eyes are drawn to his lips as he licks them when he pulls back, a gesture that sends a jolt of heat coursing through you. Without hesitation and much thought, you lean in, capturing his lips with your own in a kiss that’s both desperate and hungry.

As Josh’s hands bury themselves in your hair when he kisses you back, a surge of anticipation courses through you. Before you can react, he pulls your head back roughly, forcing your back to collide with the unyielding surface of the wall. A sharp pang of pain shoots through your skull as the impact reverberates through your body, leaving you momentarily stunned.

The pain radiates outwards, mingling with the heady rush of desire that still pulses within you. Despite the discomfort, there’s an undeniable thrill in the sensation, a primal excitement that courses through your veins.

The kiss is bruising, almost punishing, as if he’s trying to erase all thought and reason from your mind. His touch is rough and demanding, as if he’s determined to claim you as his own.

But even as your head spins with the force of his kiss, a part of you can’t help but revel in the intensity of the moment. There’s something exhilarating about the raw passion that burns between you, a fire that refuses to be extinguished.

Caught in the storm of desire that rages within you, there’s nothing you can do but surrender to the irresistible pull of the moment. His touch ignites a fire within you, burning hot and fierce as it consumes you from the inside out.

With each passing second, you find yourself losing all sense of control, swept away by the sheer intensity of the connection between you. His hands, rough and insistent, leave trails of heat in their wake as they roam hungrily over your body.

With Josh still pressed against you, the sensation of his body against yours sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. 

As his arms envelop you, pulling you closer, you find yourself melting into his touch, the lines between fear and desire blurring in the heat of the moment. His closeness is intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with each passing second.

As Josh’s overpowering presence engulfs you, every fibre of your being is consumed by a whirlwind of sensations. His demanding behaviour, his intoxicating scent, the taste of him lingering on your lips - it all swirls together in a dizzying torrent that leaves you utterly overwhelmed. 

You feel how intensely and instinctively you react to him, from the fire in your veins to the way your nipples start to grow hard and how your cunt starts to get wet.

When he breaks the kiss, you feel his hot breath against your lips, and a wave of realisation washes over you, pulling you back to reality.

“Please, Mr. Lambert, this isn’t right,” you manage to say, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desire. It is not like you don’t want him, but he is still married to Renai and your employer, and more importantly, he doesn’t seem to be in the right headspace.

But instead of heeding your plea, Josh only laughs - a deep, dark sound that reverberates through the room, sending shivers down your spine. His eyes gleam with an intensity that both thrills and terrifies you, their dark depths holding you captive in their gaze.

“Not you calling me Mr. Lambert like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it,” he retorts, his voice low and husky, laced with a hint of amusement. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a sly grin, and for a moment, you’re struck by the sheer magnetism of his presence.

As Josh’s lips meet yours once more, the kiss is deep and consuming. But this time, there’s an urgency to his touch, a hunger that ignites a fire within you both.

Your lips collide with a fervent intensity, teeth clicking against each other in a desperate embrace. The sensation is electric, each movement sending sparks flying as desire consumes you both.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you surrender to the kiss, your inhibitions melting away as passion takes hold. Some part of you is sure that this is wrong - but the way he feels against you, how he consumes you - frenzied and almost as if possessed by something - you can’t help but surrender to him. 

As Josh’s tongue invades your mouth, you taste the heady mixture of desire and desperation that lingers on his lips. His hold on you tightens, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you, his arms wrapped around you with a possessiveness that sends a thrill down your spine.

Lost in the intoxicating embrace, you surrender to the moment, letting yourself be consumed by the heat of passion that courses through your veins. His touch ignites a fire within you, a hunger that burns hot and fierce as you melt into his embrace.

As Josh’s lips part from yours, a low, almost primal sound rumbles deep in his throat - a feral growl that sends a shiver down your spine. His eyes, dark with desire, bore into yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

“I can smell you,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. “I know you want me.”

His words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning and intent. There’s a possessiveness in his tone, a certainty that sends a rush of heat flooding through your veins as you involuntarily clench your thighs - your pussy already slick with arousal. 

Caught off guard by the raw intensity of his confession, you find yourself at a loss for words. The truth in his words is undeniable, a silent acknowledgement of the desires that simmer beneath the surface.

Without waiting for a response, Josh’s lips crash against yours once more, a hungry fervour consuming every inch of your being. The kiss is fervent, almost desperate, as if he’s trying to claim you as his own one more.

A sharp pang of pain shoots through you as his teeth sink into your lip, drawing blood and pulling you back to reality. The metallic tang of iron fills your mouth, mingling with the heady taste of desire that lingers between you. Despite the pain, there’s a primal thrill in the sensation, a rawness that ignites a fire deep within your core.

His hands roam hungrily over your body, tracing every curve and contour with an urgency that leaves you gasping for air. The touch of his fingertips against your skin sends electric sparks dancing along your nerves, each caress leaving you achingly aware of the mounting tension between you.

At that moment, there’s no room for thought or hesitation - only the overwhelming rush of sensation that consumes you both. You lose yourself in the heat of the moment, surrendering to the primal instinct that drives you together, body and soul.

With a suddenness that leaves you reeling, Josh abruptly pulls away from the kiss, leaving you breathless and longing for more. His gaze is intense, dark with desire as he looks at you with hunger-filled eyes.

You’re acutely aware of the heady scent of arousal that surrounds you, mingling with the sweet tang of blood on your lips. It’s a combination that leaves you dizzy with longing, your senses heightened to a fever pitch.

He comes closer again and trails wet kisses over your jaw and neck, and when he lingers over your pulse point, his touch ignites a fire within you, a hunger that burns hot and fierce. 

With a suddenness that catches you off guard, his teeth sink into the tender flesh of your neck, right where he just traced with his tongue, while his grip on you tightens, holding you in place as if afraid you might pull away. The pressure of his teeth against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with each passing second.

The sharp pain shoots through you like a bolt of lightning, causing you to let out an involuntary whimper and buck your hips against his. You feel the hardness of his cock against you, a testament to his own arousal.

Your breath catches in your throat as the pain radiates outwards, mixing with the heady rush of desire that still courses through your veins. Despite the sting, there’s an undeniable thrill in the sensation, a rawness that heightens the intensity of the moment.

But even as desire courses through you, a part of you can’t help but feel a twinge of fear at the suddenness of his actions. The line between pleasure and pain blurs in the heat of the moment, leaving you breathless and wanting more even as you whimper in discomfort.

As Josh pulls away, a mixture of relief and longing wash over you. His gaze is intense, dark with desire as he looks at you, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

In the aftermath of his bite, you feel a dull throb where his teeth had sunk into your skin, the sensation a potent reminder of the raw intensity of the moment. But as he leans in closer, his tongue tracing over the mark he left behind, a rush of heat floods your senses, sending a shiver down your spine as you let out a breathy moan.

His touch is gentle, almost reverent as if he’s trying to soothe the pain he caused with his earlier actions. The feel of his tongue against your skin sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, erasing the discomfort and replacing it with a heady rush of desire.

With each lick, each caress, the tension between you grows thicker, electrified by the lingering heat of your shared passion. And as he pulls away, his breath heavy against your skin, you’re left reeling, your senses ablaze with longing.

“I knew you were a slut,” he murmurs, his words dripping with disdain and desire. 

And then, before you can react, he crushes his lips against yours once more, a bruising kiss that borders on violence. The force of it knocks the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping for air as he claims you with a possessiveness that borders on obsession.

The sheer force of his embrace leaves you gasping for air as if you’ve been winded. Each press of his lips against yours feels like a demand, a possessive claim that leaves no room for resistance.

In that moment, you’re acutely aware of the raw power of his desire, the intensity of his need for you. It’s as if he’s trying to erase all thought and reason from your mind, leaving only the primal urge to surrender to him completely.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you,” he murmurs, his words laced with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine as he sinks his teeth into your neck one more. “With your tight shirts and pants. Fuck, you drive me crazy.”

His admission hangs heavy in the air, a confession of desire that leaves you breathless and wanting more. It’s as if he’s stripped away all pretence, laying bare the raw, unbridled passion that simmers beneath the surface.

“And there’s nothing more I’d like to do than bend you over,” he continues, his voice low and husky with desire. The words send a thrill of excitement coursing through you, mingling with a sense of apprehension at the sheer intensity of his longing.

With a sudden surge of primal instinct, Josh’s hands tear open your shirt, the fabric yielding to his strength with a resounding rip. The sound echoes in the room, a stark reminder of the raw intensity of the moment.

As the fabric falls away, exposing your chest to the cool air, a rush of anticipation courses through you, mingling with the heady mix of desire that hangs heavy in the air. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, hot and intense, as he takes in the sight before him.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the erratic rhythm matching the tumultuous emotions swirling within you. Part of you is happy - almost giddy - you decided to forgo the bra today since it gives him better access. 

Before you can even register what’s happening, Josh’s mouth crashes against your bare chest, igniting a firestorm of sensation that consumes you whole. 

At first, he places light, wet kisses on your naked collarbones before starting to suck purple marks into your skin that cause you to whimper and moan with each new one. 

The combination of the cold air hitting the wet spots and the slight pain he causes drives you wild. You feel your pussy growing wetter and wetter, desperate for him to give you more.

As if he knows what you need, he bares his teeth and bites down into the soft skin of your bare tits. Each nip of his teeth is like a branding, leaving a searing imprint of his desire in its wake, marking you as his own.

Every nerve ending is electrified with a jolt of pleasure as he continues to explore and mark you. You whither and moan, pressed against him as he kisses and tastes your skin, careful not to touch your hard nipples.

After what almost feels like torture, he lifts his head to meet your eyes, and it’s as if a current of electricity is coursing through your veins, sparking with the sheer intensity of his passion evident in his eyes.

You watch as he runs his tongue over his lips before he lowers his head to finally capture your hard nipple with his mouth. 

A loud moan escapes you when he flicks it with his tongue and bites down softly before pulling it upwards with his teeth. The minimal stimulation feels like it has a direct connection to your neglected cunt, arousal crashing low in your belly as you buck your hips against his again.

You feel Josh’s hard cock straining in his jeans, and you press against him once more, desperate for some stimulation.

Josh’s low growl reverberates through the room, sending a shiver down your spine as he releases his grip on your skin. The sudden absence of his touch leaves you feeling strangely empty, aching for more even as you struggle to catch your breath. 

The cold air on your wet skin only adds to the frenzy you are experiencing as you feel it throb. 

Your heart pounds in your chest, the rhythm erratic and wild, matching the frantic pace of your thoughts. Every nerve ending is alight with sensation, throbbing with an intensity that threatens to overwhelm you.

With a sudden, commanding force, Josh’s hand closes around your throat, his grip strong and unyielding. The pressure tightens around your neck, a firm reminder of his dominance as you feel the weight of his touch pressing into your skin.

You gasp. The sensation is both exhilarating and terrifying as if you’re teetering on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to fall or pull back. His touch sends a shockwave coursing through your body, leaving you trembling in its wake.

And then there are his eyes - blue orbs that seem almost swallowed by the darkness, pools of intense desire that draw you in with an irresistible pull. They hold you captive, trapping you in their gaze as if daring you to look away.

With a guttural growl, Josh’s voice rumbles through the air, dripping with both desire and disdain. “Can’t get enough, whore?” His words cut through the silence like a knife, sharp and biting, as he asserts his dominance over you.

You flinch at the harshness of his tone, the weight of his words settling heavily on your shoulders. There’s a mixture of arousal and shame swirling within you, a heady concoction that leaves you dizzy and disoriented.

And then, without warning, he leans in close, his tongue tracing a path along the side of your face. The sensation is both electrifying and repulsive, sending a shiver down your spine as you struggle to reconcile the conflicting emotions raging within you.

His touch is possessive, almost violent in its intensity as if he’s staking his claim on you once more. 

With a ferocious intensity, Josh’s grip around your throat tightens, his fingers digging into your skin with an almost bruising force. The pressure sends a jolt of both pain and pleasure coursing through you, heightening your senses to a fever pitch.

As his other hand roams down your body, you feel a surge of anticipation ripple through you, your skin prickling with goosebumps at his touch. His fingers trace a tantalising path along your curves, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Every touch is electric, sending shockwaves of sensation radiating through your body. It’s as if he’s igniting a fire within you, stoking the flames of desire until they threaten to consume you whole.

With a sudden, forceful movement, Josh uses his legs to kick open yours, spreading them wide as you’re pressed against the wall. The action is swift and commanding, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable, your body trembling with anticipation.

As your legs are forced apart, you feel a surge of heat rush through you, your pulse quickening at the raw display of dominance.

Pressed against the wall, you’re acutely aware of every sensation - the coolness of the surface against your skin, the heat of Josh’s body pressed against yours, the overwhelming sense of powerlessness that washes over you.

Josh presses his knee into your clothed pussy, the pressure sending a shockwave of sensation coursing through your body. It’s a jolt of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping for breath, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the feeling.

The pressure of his knee against your skin is firm and unyielding, pressing into you with a force that borders on agonizing. Every movement sends a ripple of pleasure radiating through you.

Once he’s satisfied with the position, Josh pulls his knee away, the sudden release leaving you feeling both relieved and strangely bereft. You take in a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself as you await his next move.

“Stay,” he commands, his voice low and authoritative, sending a shiver down your spine. It’s a simple word, but it carries the weight of his dominance, leaving you rooted to the spot as if by some unseen force.

You nod obediently, unable to tear your gaze away from him as he reaches for the waistband of your pants. The anticipation builds within you, a mixture of excitement and apprehension swirling in the pit of your stomach.

With practised ease, he undoes the button and zipper of your pants, his movements deliberate and unhurried. Each touch sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through you, your breath catching in your throat as you wait.

In a swift and deliberate motion, Josh pulls down your pants, exposing you completely to his hungry gaze. The fabric slips down your legs, pooling at your feet, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable yet strangely exhilarated by the raw display of dominance.

You feel a surge of heat rush through you, your pulse quickening with anticipation. It’s as if a floodgate has been opened, releasing a torrent of desire that threatens to overwhelm you completely.

With a tantalising slowness, Josh trails his fingers along the hem of your underwear, the light touch sending shivers of anticipation racing down your spine. Each caress is deliberate, drawing out the moment and heightening the tension between you.

You can feel the heat of his touch against your skin, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they skim along the fabric. It’s as if he’s testing your limits, pushing you to the edge of your control with every teasing stroke.

Your breath catches in your throat as his touch lingers, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you. 

With a husky voice, Josh murmurs in your ear, “You’re soaked,” as his fingers brush against your clothed cunt. His words send a jolt of electricity through you that leaves you trembling with anticipation.

You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he leans in closer. The air crackles with tension, thick with the heady scent of arousal that hangs between you like a veil.

As his fingers explore your pussy through your panties, you can’t help but moan softly, your body responding instinctively to his touch. It’s as if he knows exactly how to drive you wild, how to push you to the brink of ecstasy with every caress.

With a primal growl, Josh has had enough teasing. In one swift motion, he rips away your underwear. The fabric tears away with a sharp sound, echoing in the air like a crack of thunder, and you gasp at the suddenness of his action, leaving you completely exposed before him.

Now wholly vulnerable, you feel a rush of heat flood your body, your senses overwhelmed by him. The torn fabric hangs limply at your feet, a stark reminder of the power he wields over you in this moment.

You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, hot and intense, as he takes in the sight before him with dark, hooded eyes. There’s a hunger in his gaze, a primal desire that leaves you breathless and trembling in its wake. Almost on instinct, you close your legs, a futile attempt to deny Josh access to your exposed cunt. But he doesn’t falter; his determination is evident as he refuses to be deterred by your feeble resistance and rather pushes your legs open again.

“There we go,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he forces you to comply with his command. “Now, I want you to continue to spread your legs even wider for me.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, a potent mixture of desire and fear coursing through you. You can feel the heat of his gaze on you, his intensity unwavering as he exerts his control over you.

As he pushes one finger inside you, you can’t help but moan softly, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

Josh continues to push and probe deeper, his finger stretching your tight walls further with each insistent thrust. You can feel the pressure building inside you, the sensation both intense and overwhelming as he delves deeper into the depths of your desire.

After what feels like an eternity, his fingers brush against something hidden deep within you, sending a shockwave of pleasure coursing through your body. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel a surge of heat flood your senses, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky with desire. “Now, I want you to relax and let me take control.”

His words wash over you like a wave, soothing and commanding all at once. You find yourself yielding to his touch, surrendering to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that threatens to consume you whole.

A smirk dances across Josh’s lips as he leans in closer, his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispers, “Yes. That’s a good girl.” His words send a shiver down your spine, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation coursing through you at his commanding tone.

With deliberate precision, he begins to push another finger inside you, the sensation both intense and electrifying. You can feel yourself stretching to accommodate him, your body responding eagerly to his touch as he delves deeper still.

His fingers penetrate you fully, searching for the right angle to send you spiralling into ecstasy. Each movement is deliberately calculated, as he explores every inch of your cunt with expert precision.

As he continues to push deeper, you can’t help but moan softly, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity.

When he slowly begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your wet pussy, stretching you further with each movement, you begin to moan and whimper. 

You feel like his touch drives you mad - it’s as if every caress, every sensation, sends sparks flying through your body, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatens to consume you whole. 

“Hush, just relax and enjoy what I’m giving to you” Josh’s voice is smooth and reassuring, a comforting presence amidst the whirlwind of sensations as his breath comes out in short, ragged gasps.

His words wash over you like a soothing balm, easing the tension that had been building within you. With a sense of trust and surrender, you allow yourself to let go completely, lost in the moment and the pleasure he provides.

As Josh continues to work his magic, his touch sending ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, you find yourself drifting deeper into a state of blissful abandon. Every caress, every movement, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

He roughly brushes his thumb over your clit, making you buck your hips against his hand with a low hiss. 

“Stay. Still.” Josh’s voice is a low, commanding growl, each word punctuated by a rough touch of his fingers against your cunt, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

The digits of his other hand dig into the skin of your hip.

His grip is firm and possessive as if he’s staking his claim over you in the most primal way. You can feel the heat of his desire radiating off him, his intensity overwhelming as he asserts his dominance over you.

You feel yourself clenching around his fingers, an involuntary response to his rough treatment that just scratches an itch you didn’t know you had. 

“Oh, you like that?” Josh’s voice is a low, husky murmur laced with desire and satisfaction as he picks up the pace even more, slamming his fingers into you with rough precision. His thumb continues to rub against your clit, driving you wild with pleasure. “You’re such a dirty girl.”

His words send a thrill of excitement coursing through you, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatens to consume you whole. You can feel the heat of his gaze on you, hot and intense, as he revels in the power he holds over you. 

Moans spill out your mouth, accompanied by the wet squelching sound of his fingers entering and stretching your pussy again and again. 

You’re completely gone, lost in a haze of desire and ecstasy. Your mind is devoid of coherent thoughts, consumed entirely by the intoxicating presence of Josh. He is all you can think about, all you can feel, as his touch sends waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

At that moment, there’s no room for anything else - only the overwhelming sensation of being completely and utterly consumed by him. 

You find yourself drifting deeper and deeper into a state of pure bliss, lost in a world of sensation and desire. Nothing else matters but him, his touch, his voice, as he guides you further and further into a realm of unbridled passion and ecstasy.

“You’re such a dirty girl,” Josh hisses, his voice dripping with desire and dominance as he continues to play you like an instrument. 

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mixture of arousal and anticipation coursing through your veins. Under the weight of his gaze, you feel a sense of surrender, unable to resist the intoxicating pull he has over you.

His mouth finds your neck again, his teeth grazing across your skin as he kisses and nips at you, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The sensation is both exhilarating and slightly painful, a tangible reminder of his dominance and possession over you.

With each bite, each hickey, you feel a surge of arousal coursing through your veins, your skin tingling with a mixture of pleasure and pain. It’s as if he’s branding you as his own, leaving his mark on your skin for all to see.

“Come for me now,” Josh commands, his voice laced with authority and desire, increasing the pressure on your clit with his thumb as he thrusts deeper and harder.

His words send a jolt of electricity through you, a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. Under the weight of his command, you feel a sense of urgency, a need to obey his every word.

Lost in the intensity of the moment, you surrender completely to his will, allowing yourself to be carried away by the waves of pleasure he provides, and you cum, whimpering and bucking your hips. 

As the tides of pleasure wash over you, you feel a sense of liberation, a release of all the tension and desire that had been building within you. Josh’s command echoes in your mind, driving you to new heights of ecstasy as you give in completely to the pleasure he provides.

“Good girl,” Josh praises you, his voice tender and full of admiration as your body shudders from the intense orgasm.

His fingers relentlessly pound away at your tight cunt, as his thumb continues to rub against your clit, driving you to new heights of pleasure as you ride out your high.

The words wash over you like a soothing balm, comforting and reassuring after the storm of pleasure you just experienced. You feel a sense of pride swell within you, knowing that you’ve pleased him and fulfilled his desires.

As your body begins to relax from the intensity of your climax, you lean into Josh, seeking solace in his arms, and he slowly begins to pull his fingers out of you. 

“Now that you’re nice and loose, it’s time for my cock.” Josh mumbles against your lips, his voice husky with desire.

His words send a shiver down your spine, anticipation coursing through your veins as you feel a renewed sense of arousal building within you. 

A breathy moan falls from your lips as you can’t help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of what’s to come, eager to continue exploring the depths of pleasure with him.

Hearing your moan, he growls low and deep in his throat, his body shaking with need. The sound reverberates through the air, filling the room with raw, primal desire. It’s as if your moan ignites a fire within him, fueling his own craving for you.

His growl sends a shiver down your spine, a delicious thrill that only serves to heighten the intensity of the moment. You can feel the heat of his desire radiating from him, palpable and intoxicating as it washes over you.

He pulls his hand away from you, the loss of contact leaving you feeling strangely empty and yearning for more. With a sense of urgency, he unbuttons his pants, the sound echoing in the room as he frees his throbbing cock. 

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him, your eyes drawn to his dick that’s both thick and long, with precum glistening on the reddish head.

You whimper as the sight of him fills you with a heady mix of excitement and arousal. It’s as if every nerve in your body is on fire, your senses overwhelmed by the raw, primal energy that emanates from him.

“Take it, baby. Take all of me,” he groans, his voice thick with desire and longing as he positions himself at your entrance, his cockhead pressing against your wet folds. 

With a hard thrust, he buries himself inside you, filling you up completely.

The sensation pushes all the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping for air as your head falls back against the wall. You’re overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, and your senses are flooded with the sheer pleasure of being consumed by him.

As you adjust to the feeling of him inside, you realise he’s not wearing a condom, so his bare cock is filling your cunt completely.

“Shit, Josh,” you whimper, your voice trembling with concern, “You’re not wearing a condom.”

His eyes lock on yours, his face contorted in lust as he pushes deeper. You notice how blown wide his eyes look, their intensity almost unnerving as they bore into yours. His features are strained, every muscle in his face tense with desire, and you can see beads of sweat forming on his forehead, glistening in the dim light.

Despite the urgency of the situation, you find yourself captivated by him, unable to look away from the sheer intensity of his desire. 

“I don’t care about condoms right now, baby,” Josh growls, his voice low and husky with desire.

His words send a thrill coursing through you, igniting a firestorm of desire deep within your core. Despite the nagging voice of reason in the back of your mind, you find yourself unable to resist the overwhelming pull of his passion.

In that moment, there’s a sense of reckless abandon, a willingness to throw caution to the wind in pursuit of the raw, unbridled pleasure that only he can provide. You can feel the heat of his desire radiating from him, intoxicating and all-consuming as it washes over you.

His lips find yours once again, capturing them in a searing kiss that steals your breath away as he begins to move inside you, his thrusts deep and powerful. He reaches down to grip your hips, guiding you against him as he takes control of the rhythm.

His other hand slides up your stomach and over your breasts, pinching and twisting a nipple as he takes you harder and deeper.

At that electrifying moment, time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the heat of his embrace. His kiss is a fiery inferno, igniting a blaze of desire within you that threatens to consume you whole.

You can feel the urgency in his touch, the raw hunger that drives him as he explores every inch of your mouth with a fervour that leaves you dizzy with desire. His lips move with a skilful precision, coaxing soft moans of pleasure from your lips as you melt into his embrace.

And as his lips finally part from yours, you find yourself longing for more, yearning to be consumed once again by the fiery passion that burns between you.

“But…I’m not on birth control,” you whimper as the haze momentarily lifts, the reality of the situation sinking in as you voice your concern. The possibility of him getting you pregnant looms large in your mind, casting a shadow over the heat of the moment as Josh continues to thrust into your wet cunt unwaveringly. 

“I don’t care,” he repeats his earlier words, his voice thick with desire as he disregards your concerns. With a primal intensity, he sinks his teeth into your neck once again, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain coursing through your body, “You’re going to take it when I cum - you're gonna love it.”

As his teeth graze against your skin, you can feel the heat of his desire radiating from him as it washes over you, and you buck your hips against his.

You feel his cock hitting a spot deep inside you that makes you moan breathlessly as well as clench around him.

You gaze at Josh, captivated by the sight of him lost in ecstasy. His eyes flutter closed, his head thrown back, revealing the graceful curve of his neck. At that moment, he looks utterly breathtaking, his features softened by pleasure, a blissful expression gracing his handsome face.

The play of emotions across his features and the subtle movements of his lips as he gasps for breath all serve to heighten his allure. His tousled hair falls in disarray around his face, adding to his rugged charm. The flush of arousal paints his cheeks a rosy hue, highlighting the chiselled contours of his jawline.

In the dim light, every inch of him seems to glow with an ethereal radiance, casting him in an almost otherworldly light. 

He grinds against you, his hips pumping rhythmically as he loses himself in the sensation of being inside you. 

“Oh fuck, yes...” He groans, his body trembling as he pushes deeper into you with each thrust, his thick dick hitting your cervix with a loud smack, making you cry out. “You feel so good... so fucking tight.”

The rough texture of the wall adds a new dimension to the already intense sensations coursing through your veins. As Josh presses you against it with a ferocity that leaves you breathless, every scrape and bump against your skin sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. 

His lips curve into a wicked grin as he feels you trembling underneath him. With a predatory gleam in his eyes, he bites down hard on your shoulder as he keeps thrusting harder into your cunt in a primal rhythm, eliciting a sharp gasp of pleasure-pain from your lips.

Your body arches into his with every powerful thrust. 

“That’s it, baby. Let me mark you up while I fuck you hard and deep against the wall.” He growls out as he continues to pound into you, his cock slamming inside you with each powerful thrust and his teeth nibbling away on your soft skin.

The sensation is electrifying, sending a surge of arousal coursing through your veins every time he marks you with his teeth. His grip tightens on your skin, holding you in place as he savours the taste of you, his lips lingering on the spot where his teeth sank into your flesh.

It’s a moment of exquisite intensity, the sharp bite of pain mingling with the heady rush of pleasure as he claims you as his own. 

“You like that, baby?” He growls, his voice heavy with lust.

The sound of his voice sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fiery passion deep within you. It’s a question laden with desire, a testament to the intensity of the moment as he waits for your response.

With a ragged breath, you nod and whimper in response, unable to form words as pleasure courses through your veins. His growl reverberates through you, filling you with a heady mix of anticipation and arousal as you surrender yourself completely to the heat of the moment.

He continues to pound into you, his cock slamming against your cervix with each thrust, almost hard enough to make you wince. 

His teeth dig deeper into your shoulder as he loses himself in the sensation of claiming you. “Fuck... I’m gonna cum…”

His words send a jolt of anticipation coursing through you, heightening the intensity of the moment. With each ragged breath, the tension between you builds, reaching a fever pitch as you both hurtle towards the brink of ecstasy.

Feeling his grip tighten on your skin, you can sense his impending release, the urgency in his movements driving you both towards the edge.

“Not inside, please,” you plead, locking eyes with him, your voice trembling as you feel his cock pistoning in and out of you, scrapping that one spot that makes you see stars.

But he doesn’t waver, his gaze unwavering as he continues with his relentless pace. The intensity of his desire overwhelms any sense of restraint, his need for release consuming him entirely. You can only take it helplessly as his movements grow more frenzied, driving you both towards the edge of ecstasy. 

Josh moves his hand down to rub your clit even harder, desperate to make you cum with him. 

“Cum for me, baby…” he commands, his voice thick with desire and authority.

His words send a shiver of anticipation down your spine, igniting a fiery passion deep within you. Despite any reservations or fears, you find yourself unable to resist his command, surrendering yourself completely to his will. With each thrust and caress, he pushes you closer and closer to the brink, his commanding presence fueling the flames of your desire.

And then, with a primal cry of pleasure, you finally succumb to his command, your body convulsing with ecstasy as waves of pleasure wash over you.

“Fuck...” Josh groans, his voice heavy with desire and satisfaction as he feels you orgasm around him. 

His hips buck wildly against yours, driving his cock deep inside you one last time before he tips over the edge as well, letting out a long, low groan.

Hot cum fills your cunt, his body shuddering with release. You feel his muscles tensing as he thrusts a few more times, milking himself into your pussy, making sure he’s completely spent.

As you slowly come down from the heights of ecstasy, a wave of realisation washes over you. With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you become acutely aware of the warmth spreading within you.

Josh’s breathing is ragged, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his exertion. As he gazes down at you, his eyes are a tumultuous storm of emotions, a swirling mix of lust, tenderness and something dark that leaves you breathless.

In the dim light of the room, his features are cast in shadows, adding an air of mystery to his already intense gaze. You can see the raw desire burning within him, a primal hunger that seems to consume him entirely. But beneath the heat of his lust, there’s also a flicker of something softer, something more vulnerable and intimate.

It’s a paradoxical combination that leaves you utterly captivated, unable to tear your eyes away from his intense stare. 

“I want to spend all night inside you,” he growls, his voice low.

His words send a shiver down your spine, igniting a fierce craving deep within you. 

As you gaze up at him, his gaze is smouldering with raw passion, his eyes dark and intense as they lock onto yours. There’s a hunger in his stare, a need that threatens to consume you both entirely - he’s acting as if possessed.

You can feel your pulse quicken at his words, your body responding instinctively to his commanding presence. 

Josh pulls back from you, creating a small distance between your bodies. As he does, you feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you, causing you to slump against the wall for support. The intensity of the moment begins to fade, leaving you feeling drained and spent. Your muscles ache with exertion, and every breath feels heavy as you try to catch your breath. 

You feel his cock softening inside you and finally slipping out of your well-fucked cunt. 

In the back of your mind, you register the sensation of his cum dripping from you, coating your thighs, pooling at your feet and staining the floor beneath you. 

You sense Josh’s gaze lingering on your pussy as well as the mess on the floor. As you glance up, you catch a glimpse of his darkening gaze, a flicker of desire reigniting within him.

“Oh, don’t worry, we’re not done here,” he growls out, his voice dripping with desire as he leans down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. His free hand slides down to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him as he deepens the kiss with a hunger that leaves you breathless.

At that moment, time seems to stand still as you’re consumed by the intensity of his touch, the heat of his body pressed against yours as his lips move hungrily against yours.

As he breaks the kiss, his eyes smouldering with desire, he whispers, “We’ve got all night,” his words sending a shiver down your spine.

Your breath catches in your throat as you notice the change in Josh’s demeanour, a sinking feeling of exhaustion settling deep within you. But as you struggle to regain your composure, you realise that he doesn’t care. With a forceful grip, he pulls you roughly from the wall and into the bedroom, heedless of the fatigue that weighs heavily on your shoulders.

As you stumble along in his wake, you feel the exhaustion gnawing at your insides, a relentless ache that threatens to overwhelm you. Each step feels like a Herculean effort, your limbs heavy with fatigue as you struggle to keep pace with Josh’s determined stride.

Despite the weariness that courses through your body, you can’t help but feel a flicker of anticipation at the prospect of what awaits you in the bedroom. The thought of surrendering to the raw passion that simmers between you and Josh ignites a spark of desire within you, momentarily overshadowing the fatigue that threatens to drag you down.

But as you continue to move forward, you can’t ignore the sensation of moisture trickling down your thighs, a silent reminder of what happened with Josh just moments ago. It’s a stark contrast to the exhaustion that weighs heavily on your shoulders, a potent reminder of the conflicting emotions swirling within you.

In the dim light of the bedroom, you catch a glimpse of Josh’s intense gaze, his eyes ablaze with desire.

He closes the door behind him, the click echoing in the silent room, his towering figure casting a shadow over you as he stands before you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. His massive body looms over yours, his presence dominating the space as he stares down at you with fiery eyes that seem to pierce through your very soul.

“I can’t get enough of you, baby,” he growls, his voice thick with emotion and raw desire. The words hang heavy in the air, charged with an urgency that sends a shiver down your spine. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his proximity igniting a fire within you.

Despite the exhaustion that still lingers in the depths of your being, you find yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence. His words wash over you like a tidal wave, stirring something primal and untamed deep within you.

As you meet his gaze, you can see the hunger burning in his eyes, a hunger that mirrors your own as you stand on the precipice of desire, teetering on the edge of something wild and unrestrained. 

With a forceful motion, he throws you onto the bed, the impact sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your body. You land with a soft thud, the mattress yielding beneath your weight as you find yourself sprawled out before him.

As you try to catch your breath, you feel his hand wrap around your throat, the pressure firm yet strangely gentle, sending a thrill of anticipation racing down your spine. His touch is possessive, a silent declaration of ownership that sends a shiver of excitement coursing through your veins.

“You belong to me now,” he whispers, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. His words hang in the air, heavy with promise and desire, as he asserts his dominance over you.

With deliberate movements, he climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs as he gazes down at you with a hunger that leaves you breathless. His eyes are dark pools of desire, burning with an intensity that threatens to consume you whole.

As he hovers over you, his hand firm against your throat, a faint perfume wafts through the air, tickling your senses with its familiar scent. In the dim light of the room, you recognise it instantly - Renais, his wife’s signature fragrance. The realisation sends a chill down your spine, mingling with the heat of desire that still courses through your veins.

Suddenly, you feel the weight of his wedding band pressing against your throat, a cold reminder of the reality of the situation. It’s a stark contrast to the fiery passion that burns between you, a sobering reminder of the boundaries that exist in this forbidden tryst.

In the depths of your mind, a voice whispers warnings of the consequences that loom on the horizon, a reminder of the tangled web of deceit and desire that threatens to ensnare you both. But in the heat of the moment, those warnings fall on deaf ears, drowned out by the primal urge that drives you forward.

As he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin, you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt gnawing at your conscience. But it’s quickly drowned out by the overwhelming need that pulses through your veins, urging you to surrender yourself completely to the intoxicating allure of forbidden desire.

His lips crash against yours with an urgency that leaves you breathless, his kiss rough and demanding, a declaration of his desire. At that moment, all thoughts of guilt and consequence vanish, replaced by the searing heat of his touch and the intoxicating taste of his lips.

You respond eagerly, yielding to the fervent intensity of his kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, desperate for more. The world fades away around you, consumed by the fiery passion that ignites between you, leaving only the two of you locked in a passionate embrace.

With each brush of his lips against yours, you feel yourself falling deeper under his spell, lost in the heady whirlwind of desire that threatens to consume you whole. 

Feeling the weight of his body pressing down on you, a sudden awareness strikes you like a bolt of lightning - he’s fully clothed while you remain bare and exposed, a stark contrast that sends a shiver down your spine. The only thing that’s uncovered is his soft cock that you feel against your thigh. 

In a desperate bid to bridge the gap between you, to regain some sense of equilibrium in this uneven playing field, you reach for the fabric of his shirt. Your fingers tremble as you fumble with the buttons, your movements fueled by a mix of urgency and desire. With each button you undo, the tension in the room ratchets up another notch, the air crackling with anticipation.

As the fabric falls away, revealing the contours of his chest and the sinewy muscles that ripple beneath his skin, you’re struck by just how good he looks. With trembling hands, you push the shirt down his arms.

His physique is a sight to behold, a perfect mix of strength and grace that leaves you breathless. His arms are defined and powerful, the muscles flexing beneath the surface as he moves. And his chest, adorned with a light dusting of chest hair, rises and falls with each ragged breath, a testament to the intensity of the moment.

In the dim light of the room, his features are cast in shadow, adding an air of mystery to his already alluring presence. But despite the darkness that surrounds him, there’s no mistaking the hunger in his eyes, the maddening desire that burns within him.

“Get me hard again,” he tells you, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. “Be my good girl, yes?”

His words ignite a surge of arousal within you, coursing through your veins like wildfire as you realise the power of his praise. 

In that moment, you realise just how much you crave his approval, how much you long to please him in every way possible. And as his words sink in, you feel a newfound sense of purpose wash over you, driving you to fulfil his every desire with a fervor you never knew you possessed. With a sense of determination, you set out to do just as he commands, eager to prove yourself as his obedient and eager girl.

He lays himself down on his back, a picture of casual confidence, and crosses his arms behind his head. His gaze meets yours, an eyebrow raised in silent expectation as if to say, go on, do it.

You lower yourself onto your knees, positioning yourself exactly where he wants you, his soft cock just in front of you, glistening and coated in both your releases.

Even soft, you notice that he is quite big, with a vein on the underside of it and embedded in a well-groomed nest of dark hair. 

His gaze remains fixed on yours, a silent invitation urging you to continue. And as you lean in closer, the air crackles with electricity, charged with the promise of what’s to come.

“That’s right, take my cock into your mouth,” his voice commands, resonating with authority as he reaches out to guide his dick with his big hands, holding it steady for you to take.

His directive sends a shiver down your spine, and with a sense of obedience, you lean forward, your lips parting to welcome him eagerly. As your mouth envelops him, your lips slowly stretch around the head of his cock, your tongue swirling around the slit. 

You feel a surge of satisfaction knowing that you’re fulfilling his wishes. He is heavy and hot against your tongue as you taste the combination of yourself and him on it.

He grins wickedly as he watches his cock harden in your mouth. The sight of you submitting to him ignites a fire within him. 

His hands guide you, steady and firm, as you take him deeper, savouring the taste and texture of him. Each movement is deliberate, calculated to bring him the utmost pleasure. And as you follow his lead, you feel a sense of empowerment wash over you, knowing that you have the power to drive him wild with desire.

A whimper escapes you as he presses his cock deeper into your mouth, eliciting a gag that you struggle to suppress. The sensation is overwhelming, the pressure building as you try to accommodate him. Despite your efforts, you can’t help but gag more.

His grip tightens on your head, his hands exerting control as he guides you through each movement. His eyes darken at the sight of you struggling to take him deep into your throat, causing him to swell even more within you. 

“That’s my little slut, taking me without any trouble,” he growls out, his voice dripping with a mix of pride and lust as he watches you struggle with his girth in your mouth.

His words send a shiver down your spine, a heady mixture of shame and arousal coursing through your veins. Despite the discomfort, there’s a perverse sense of satisfaction in being called his slut, a twisted validation of your submission to him.

Each gag is met with a grunt of approval from him, his grip tightening on your head as he revels in your obedience. You feel tears welling up in your eyes as he hits your uvula, causing you to pull back slightly in discomfort.

“Don’t be a bad girl,” he reprimands, his voice firm as he reaches down to pull your hair roughly, forcing you to take more of his cock.

His grip is relentless, his fingers tangled in your hair as he exerts control over you. Despite the tears streaming down your face, you can’t help but obey, the fear of his reprimand driving you to comply with his demands.

You choke back a sob as he pushes deeper into your mouth, the sensation overwhelming as he fills you completely. Each movement is met with a sharp tug on your hair, a reminder of who is in control.

As you struggle to suppress your gag reflex, you feel a sense of helplessness wash over you, a realisation that you are completely at his mercy. 

“That’s it, take it like the dirty little slut you are,” he growls out, his voice thick with desire as he starts to thrust his hips forward, fucking your mouth roughly. Each movement drives his cock deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with each forceful thrust, making you gag even more.

The sensation is overwhelming, the pressure building in your chest as you struggle to accommodate him. 

You use the flat of your hands to push down on his hip, desperately trying to create some distance between you and him as spots start to dance in the corners of your eyes.

“I thought you were my good girl?” Josh chuckles, his voice laced with amusement as he easily overpowers your feeble attempts to resist. With a swift motion, he pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other still tightly gripping your hair. Despite your struggles, his cock continues to push further into your throat with every thrust, leaving you gasping for air and completely at his mercy.

The pressure on your wrists is almost unbearable, the sensation of being held down fueling your sense of helplessness. You can feel his control tightening around you, his dominance asserting itself in every forceful movement.

As you struggle against his grip, the realisation sinks in that you’re completely powerless to stop him. All you can do is submit to his will, surrendering yourself to the pleasure and pain of his relentless possession.

“That’s it,” Josh groans out, his voice thick with desire as he notices your surrender. With renewed determination, he continues to thrust his hips forward, driving his thick shaft deeper into your throat with each powerful stroke.

The sensation is overwhelming, the relentless pressure pushing you to your limits as you struggle to accommodate him. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure and pain coursing through your body, blurring the lines between ecstasy and agony.

But despite the discomfort, there’s a perverse sense of satisfaction in knowing that you’re fulfilling his desires, that you’re giving yourself over completely to his dominance. And as he continues to push deeper and deeper, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating whirlwind of submission, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Josh growls out as he bottoms out, his cock hitting the back of your throat, eliciting a muffled moan from you. With a soft pop, he withdraws slightly before thrusting harder and faster, taking advantage of the tightness of your mouth around his girth.

Each powerful thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire of desire that burns hotter with each passing moment. You’re completely at his mercy, completely consumed by the raw intensity of the moment.

Despite the discomfort and the overwhelming sensation of being filled to the brim, there’s an undeniable thrill in surrendering to his primal urges, in giving yourself over completely to his dominance. 

“That’s enough,” he growls out, finally pulling out of your throat. You cough and splutter, your throat raw from the rough treatment he’s given you, tears streaming down your cheeks.

As you catch your breath, you glance over at him, sprawled out on the bed with an air of satisfaction. His eyes, dark and intense, meet yours, and a mischievous smirk plays at the corners of his lips. Beads of sweat dot his forehead and chest, accentuating the contours of his toned physique.

Despite the rough treatment you’ve endured, there’s an undeniable allure to his presence as he lies there, completely in control. His dominance hangs heavy in the air, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You find yourself unable to look away, captivated by the raw power he exudes.

With each breath he takes, you feel a surge of desire course through you, mingling with the lingering traces of fear. It’s a heady mix of emotions, one that leaves you both exhilarated and apprehensive. 

“Now that was a fucking good blowjob, you little slut,” Josh smirks at you, his voice heavy with satisfaction as his cock stands proudly and leaks pre-cum. He tugs on your hair again, gently but firmly, pulling your face up to meet his gaze.

You meet his gaze, your eyes locking with his, and you can see the hunger burning behind his darkened irises. It’s a look that sends a thrill of anticipation through you, knowing that he’s not finished with you yet.

With a soft whimper, you lean into his touch, surrendering yourself to his control once more. 

“You’re going to love this, baby,” he growls, his voice low and threatening. Before you can react, he kisses you roughly, his lips possessing yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. With a swift motion, he flips you over, pinning you beneath him as he settles on top.

His weight presses you into the mattress, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins. Despite the forcefulness of his actions, there’s an undeniable heat in his touch that ignites a fire within you. You can feel the strength of his body against yours, his muscles tense with desire as he holds you captive beneath him.

As he leans down to capture your lips again, you can’t help but lose yourself in the heat of the moment, surrendering to the passion that consumes you both. 

With a firm grip, he pins your wrists above your head, holding them in place with one hand while using the other to spread your legs wide open.

Your eyes widen as he reaches for something on the nightstand, and you feel a surge of apprehension when you see that it’s rope. Your heart races with a mixture of excitement and fear as you realise what he intends to do with it.

He smirks at your reaction, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he holds up the coil of rope, letting it dangle tantalisingly between his fingers. With deliberate slowness, he begins to unravel it, the length of the rope glinting in the dim light of the bedroom.

Josh’s grin widens into a wicked smirk as he deftly ties your wrists and ankles to the bedposts, securing the ropes with practised precision. Each knot is firm, leaving you completely immobilised and at his mercy.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you lie there, bound and helpless, the sensation of vulnerability sending shivers down your spine. But beneath the fear, there’s an undeniable thrill coursing through your veins, the anticipation of what’s to come heightening your arousal.

As Josh steps back to admire his handiwork, you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with a hint of trepidation. 

He then moves between your legs again and parts your already fucked pussy with his two hands, revealing how wet you are. You feel the cold air on your heated cunt and buck your hips involuntarily while simultaneously clenching your pussy, feeling more of his cum drip out onto the sheets. 

Exposed and vulnerable, you can’t shake the feeling of self-consciousness that washes over you as you lie there, bound and completely open before Josh and you squirm.

Josh’s eyes narrow as he observes your futile attempts to escape his gaze as he drinks in the sight before him. 

As he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin, you can feel the raw intensity of his desire coursing through you, sending shivers down your spine. 

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch Josh raise his hand, anticipation coursing through your veins like electricity. With a sharp intake of breath, you brace yourself for the impact, knowing that the sting of his touch will send waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

When his hand finally makes contact with your bare cunt, the sensation is both exhilarating and intense. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as the force of his touch leaves a red print behind, the sting mingling with the throbbing heat that radiates from the point of impact.

Despite the initial shock, you find yourself craving more, your body responding instinctively to the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure that Josh’s touch elicits. 

Josh’s chuckle reverberates in the room, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine as you feel a flush of embarrassment wash over you. Yet, despite the heat rising in your cheeks, there’s also a sense of exhilaration coursing through your veins, a thrill at being so completely under his control.

As Josh continues to deliver alternating slaps to your pussy, thighs and lower belly, the sensations become increasingly overwhelming, each impact sending a jolt of pleasure shooting through your body. Your mind becomes foggy, consumed by the raw intensity of the moment as you surrender yourself to the exquisite torment of his touch.

With each stroke of his hand, the line between pain and pleasure blurs, the sensations merging into a symphony of ecstasy that leaves you gasping for breath. And as Josh teases your clit with his thumb, you find yourself completely lost in the moment, unable to think of anything but the overwhelming desire that courses through your veins.

His other hand grips the base of his cock, stroking it in rhythm with each slap.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls, his voice low and threatening. With each spank, he increases the force, leaving angry red marks blossoming across your thighs, cunt and lower belly. The sting intensifies with each strike, sending waves of sensation rippling through your body. 

You struggle against the ropes, your body straining against the bonds as you watch Josh’s lips curl into a predatory smile. His eyes gleam with desire as he observes your futile attempts to free yourself from the tight restraints that bind you.

With a final hard slap to your skin, leaving a particularly angry red mark in its wake, Josh withdraws his hand, the sound echoing in the room. He moves between your spread legs, his presence looming over you like a dark shadow and his cock twitching in anticipation.

“Say my name when you come,” he growls, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. The command hangs in the air, heavy with anticipation, as you feel a surge of arousal coursing through your veins at his words.

Almost instinctively, you arch your back and buck your hips against him, a desperate attempt to feel more of him, to draw him closer. The movement elicits a deep groan from Josh as he positions the head of his cock at the entrance to your wet pussy and thrusts forward powerfully, burying himself to the hilt in one swift motion, eliciting an obscenely loud squelching noise. 

“Fuck.”

As the sensations overwhelm you, your body responds instinctively, and you’re sent hurtling over the edge of ecstasy. It hits you so unexpectedly and intensely that, for a brief moment, it feels like everything else fades away. Your senses are consumed by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins, and you feel like you’re on the brink of blacking out.

Through the haze of pleasure, you hear Josh’s voice, husky and commanding, urging you to say his name. It’s a demand that sends a shiver down your spine, intensifying the sensations pulsing through your body. You feel his grip on your hips tighten as he thrusts into you with unrestrained passion, driving you further into the depths of bliss. Every movement, every touch, sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in ecstasy.

He continues to pound into you, fucking you through your intense orgasm that feels neverending.

“You’re mine now,” Josh’s hands grip your hips tightly, leaving more red handprints as he continues to fuck you with a brutal intensity, his fingers digging into your skin as if to brand you as his own. 

As his teeth graze your neck and shoulder, leaving behind a trail of painful but exhilarating marks once more, a rush of sensation courses through you, blending pleasure with a hint of pain. Yet, strangely, it only serves to heighten your pleasure, drawing you deeper into his spell.

You can feel the heat of his body against yours, his breath hot against your skin as he claims you with an almost primal ferocity.

At this moment, there is no room for hesitation or restraint. You surrender to the relentless onslaught of sensations, giving yourself over completely to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. Every movement, every touch, sends electric jolts of ecstasy racing through your body, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatens to consume you whole.

As Josh continues to possess you with a brutal intensity, his dominance over you becomes undeniable. 

“That’s it, baby. Scream my name,” he growls, his cock throbbing and his voice thick with desire as he feels you approaching another orgasm. 

With each thrust, he drives deeper into you, his movements becoming more urgent and forceful as he seeks to send you spiralling into ecstasy once more.

Your body quivers with anticipation as Josh’s words drive you to the brink of ecstasy. With each powerful thrust, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. You can feel every movement, every sensation magnified as Josh’s relentless assault pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

“Yes...Come for me,” he groans, his voice heavy with lust as he feels your walls tightening around him, signalling your impending climax. With each thrust, he drives deeper into you, the urgency in his movements matching the intensity of your pleasure. 

As you approach the peak of your pleasure, your mind becomes consumed by a single thought: Josh. His name echoes in your mind like a mantra, driving you further into the depths of ecstasy. And as you feel the wave of orgasmic bliss wash over you once again, you can’t help but obey his command, your voice rising in a primal scream of pleasure.

“Yes, yes,” he chants, his voice a husky whisper as he feels you come apart around him, your body trembling beneath him. The sight of your ecstasy only fuels his own, pushing him further into the depths of euphoria.

You know he’s close, and you struggle against the bindings again when you realise he will come inside you again. “No, Josh, not again,” you plead, the urgency evident in your voice as you try to convey your concern.

Despite your protests, Josh’s dark chuckle sends shivers down your spine, his tone filled with determination and dominance. “Oh yes, and you’ll take it again,” he promises, his thrusts growing more forceful as he edges closer to his climax, "Don't pretend that you don't like it - that you don't crave to feel my cum deep inside you."

As you whimper and moan, Josh only seems to grow more determined. Roughly, his thumb finds you clit again, rubbing hard and fast circles. 

He pushes you into another small orgasm, eliciting a mixture of pleasure and discomfort from you. He grunts in response, feeling your walls convulsing around him. His thrusts grow even more powerful as he pushes you over the edge once again.

“Fuck... yes...,” he groans, “You’re mine tonight.” He continues to pound into you, leaving more bruises and bite marks on your body as he takes ownership of you.

”I’m not going to stop until I fill you up,” he snarls, his thrusts becoming more erratic and powerful. He can feel his climax building once again, ready to claim you completely, "Fuck, you're gonna be so full it spills out of you."

Despite your struggles against the ropes, you find yourself helpless, unable to escape his relentless advance. Moans and whimpers escape your lips as you feel the inevitable approach of his next release, your body trembling with a mix of anticipation and fear.

“That’s it, baby. Take my cum,” he growls, his hips bucking wildly as he releases inside you. You feel the warm rush of his cum filling you, marking you as his own as your mind becomes blissfully quiet.

He continues to thrust deeply until every last drop is buried deep within your cunt, claiming you completely and marking you as his own, before finally pulling out with a wet, satisfying sound. His eyes are dark and predatory as he looks down at you, catching his breath.

“You’re such a slut.” He mutters, his eyes fixed on your dripping pussy. His fingers trail down your skin, tracing the path of his cum as it drips from your twitching and gaping pussy. 

“I bet you’re going to be so sore tomorrow,” he whispers, a wicked grin spreading across his lips.

With a final lingering glance, Josh leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re mine now,” he whispers, his voice laced with possessiveness.

As Josh’s lips graze the shell of your ear, a shiver runs down your spine, sending goosebumps rippling across your skin. His touch, once dominating and rough, now feels surprisingly gentle against your sensitive flesh as he runs his fingers over the countless red and purple marks he’s left on your skin.

With a sense of relief, you feel the ropes around your wrists and ankles loosen, allowing you to move freely once again. As Josh unties you, you can’t help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you - a potent blend of desire, confusion, and a lingering sense of vulnerability.

As the last knot comes undone, you find yourself looking up at Josh, searching his eyes for any trace of the intensity that had consumed him moments before. But all you see is a softness, a hint of tenderness that belies the roughness of his previous actions. Almost unwillingly, you yawn, the bone-deep exhaustion now evident that you're able to come down.

“Sleep now, baby,” he murmurs, his voice tender. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

With those words, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a comforting embrace as you start to sink into a deep sleep, overwhelmed by the situation and thoroughly fucked out.

[keyorden]

Echo Parents (5. Chase)

So. A quick recap; TJ has reasonable, loving parents, with no indication that there is any problems beyond what any kid might have with their parents, potentially marred only by over-protectiveness (reasonable) Leo and Carl have overall positive relationship's with parents, with significant issues that aren't easily overcome, and contribute to their kids issues, which lead them to identify more with friends overall. Jenna, Syd, and Flynn have abusive parents, and much of the stories they have are about dealing with that, and how friends can share the burdens. Clint, Jeremy, Heather, Micha and Keith are all examples of when the support network Can't bridge the gap (In this case, their Flynn example, Keith, was taken too soon, and they had literally no positive examples to otherwise help) So, given all of that overall. What is up with Chase's parents. Going over everything, it's....strange. In all the other examples, the parents reflect the kids beliefs and values. In Chase's case, the greatest part's of his story are about his avoidance to conflict, his lack of desires, his own communication issues, and his inability to make meaningful decisions. But it really honestly doesnt seem like Chases parent's reflect this? Like, in Route 65, Chase mentions that his mom locked herself in a room, and the dad could only "Laugh awkwardly" at the impromptu outing. Then, there is the implication that they accepted the relationship, but nothing else. It is mentioned that they punished Chase for some of his behavior as a child (Which, in his own words, was dickish), like leaving TJ to clean Duke's yard alone, and there are other minor instances of mention, but nothing that leads to a really clear or obvious picture like anyone else. They held some barbiques, did some things that annoyed younger chase, and that is that. At best, given whats in Cannon (even more with the beginning phone call and Chase's remincing in Flynn's route), you could determine them as just being....normal parents. But that doesn't feel right. Its strange, for normal parents to have that much of an opposition to filmography, of all things. Carl's not wanting an art degree is a classic complaint, but Flim? Even more, it just seems...odd. Like, Chase isn't really defined by being normal. His parents seemingly not having a large impact, positively or negatively, on anything, without note, seems off. Wrong. I have ideas, of course, on things they could've been presented as. If his parents were awkward, never commuting to condemning or helping him after he came out, or even before not approving of anything he did, yet not outright rejecting him like with Sydney, that could fit Or, if Chase Felt like he had a normal childhood, and then realized he hadn't spoken to his parents in YEARS, that would also be a fitting commentary. Or if his parent's notably had a rocky relationship, more if they wanted different things out of Chase. Or even if they didn't want to have Chase at all! if they were somewhat openly resentful of being stuck together and having a child, yet not separating, and just not talking about it, that could also fit for him. Not like that is an exhaustive list, but what we do know of the Hunters is just so lacking and limp. Overall I guess I just feel like Chases parents are one of the few kind of dropped parts of Echo. Or, at least, something that wasn't handled with the kind of detail I think they really could've. Just, an untapped goldmine for things to do or talk about.

[tmf-confessions]

I HAVE TO CONFESS IT. I HAVE TO SAY IT. GOSHDARNIT I HATE LANDER WITH EVERY BONE IN MY BODY- 😭😭😭

Okay, so, may get some slander for this but Let me explain myself first- Lander is literally the least developed, most emotionless relationship in tmf.

1. Its (pretty much) useless to the plot

Literally like, they’re supposed to be “super close”, they used to be childhood best friends and now they’re lovers! But like…When do we see that ever???

Lander was basically just an excuse to give luke some screentime, and to give zander some more screentime. I know that not everything has to be necessary to the plot of tmf, but in general, when things happen, especially in such a short series (less than 15 episodes in season 1), even filler content should somehow be able to push the plot forward, right? Apparently not, because Lander literally did nothing plot wise!

You could argue that yes, it did show Zander and luke that jake was a trustworthy, but theres so many other ways that he could have done it, without the whole lander arc, which could have arguably set up both characters for more interesting arcs?

Honestly, I feel like there could have been an arc where luke accepted stacy, and zander had to learn to deal with heartbreak, and it would still push the narrative in the same direction, could have had a lot more buildup too

2. It feels like it’s just there for representation

As a queer person myself, do not get me wrong, it is WONDERFUL to have representation within media, on bigger more popular shows too! I’m eternally grateful that rosy added them in to showcase a queer relationship, however, lander honestly feels like its just that. Like its there, JUST to showcase a real relationship.

Like, they had a cute confession moment, but it was so early on in the series that it genuinely didn’t seem like something that was built up to. Sure, we got a bit of time, but how much time was that? 2 episodes of build up tops? “Lovesick luke” and “a drummers confession” was like, literally it. Nothing beforehand to build up to it, besides the whole “Zander is gay” and “zander and luke are childhood best friends” thing, but those can exist within platonic relationships too, so thats not really buildup at all

We never get to see why they’re attracted to eachother, other than “wow, they’ve been friends for a while and admire eachother, they must have crushes on eachother” like- even as a person who is VERY VERY VERY romantically attracted (think opposite of aromantic, then scale it 20x past that), its just giving “boy and girl co-star on a show and end up together at the end because you cant have 2 friends be close without them being romantic,” but made queer.

Genuinely, if theres going to be a relationship, i think that (as much as i personally am not really a shipper of it) jailey is a WONDERFUL example.

They kind of grew on eachother, and we see that attraction growing slowly, rather than being shoved in our faces or being rushed. Its a well thought out love arc, and almost perfectly encapsulates a slowly formed relationship. even in such a short show, it didn’t feel rushed.

(While rereading this, i’m really notsure how to phrase my words, so these words absolutely do not reflect my ABSOLUTE feelings on this, but this is about as close as I can get with it. I am in absolutely no way accusing rosy of being homophobic, Infact i see quite the opposite in her, she’s a wonderful ally, its just meh writing)

3. Its honestly not the best ship? (This part is my opinion purely)

Dont get me wrong, they’re not toxic by any means, (infact, they seem quite healthy!) but they 100% have some issues they need to work on. Like… does no one notice how Luke like, threatened jake if he hurt zander? Obsession issues a tad bit, perchance?/notneg

Luke kinda exists to push zander’s story arc along in the first season, so we get like, no luke character traits, which i think definitely contributes to them not being the best pairing, but overall they’re so generically “mehh” of a relationship. They’re just kinda together, to be together.

4. FINAL REASON: It was just there to push jake’s story along.

Honestly, I think this is the underlying reason here. Jake is the main character in a really short show, so if somethings not revolved around him, its gotta be quick. Lander would definitely be so much better with more development, but because its not jake centred, we basically get nothing on them. This isnt rosy’s fault by any means, shes gotta get the main story in ofc, it just sucks that that seems to cost other characters screen time and development that could have been really nice.

Overall, Rosy please make more lander stuff in season 2, I need to stop hating it cause it could genuinely be so cute 🙏

confession #810

[grumfield]

Hihi!! I really like your perspective on Obi-Wan, I really want to know like…how you would describe him? In detail or whatever? Consider it for fic research…haha

Wahhhh I love asks like this. Love you babe

My perspective on Obi-Wan is really strictly tied to Legends books and the movies + Kenobi show, I’m not a Clone Wars 2008 person so my opinion is informed by stuff that was established before then and (mostly) before the Disney purchase. Everyone has different takes this is just mine lol

Obi-Wan is called the ultimate Jedi in a lot of books, and he really is, with all the good and the bad that entails. I joke about his incompetence a lot but he really is an incredibly competent Jedi. He represents the state of the Order as it currently is at any given moment (such as forgotten and in hiding in A New Hope) so for the majority of the prequels he’s kind of the representative host for all of the issues that plague the order and contribute to its downfall, specifically complacence and repression. His natural instinct—selflessly helping others, showing love to Anakin—are institutionally squashed down. As a kid in Jedi Apprentice he tries to do the uncomplicated selfless thing a couple of times (like stay behind on a planet and help people in need) and is environmentally and socially punished for it so eventually acquiesces to the sort of belief that this first instinct is not the one he should listen to/the one that helps—in the same way that a Jedi might want to free the slaves, they’re talked out of it by a complacent institution and essentially rework their mindset that less revolutionary acts are the priority. He is the status quo.

It’s especially obvious with regards to Anakin. This is really reflected in his inner dialogue which a lot of time amounts to, “my first impulse is to comfort him, but that’s not The Jedi Way so instead I will not do that” which makes Anakin chew on bricks and fosters some pathetic yandere tendencies because instead of just denying affection/love outright or showing it, he gives this inconsistent half-affection that are enough kibbles to make this sad dog keep going back to him but it’s never enough for a full meal and it gives him a lot of issues. He’s a permissive guy to his core but keeps backtracking on this because he thinks it’ll make Anakin worse…

So when I write him I try to keep that in mind, like, this is a guy whose native code makes him want to baby this baby but education makes him go against that…he loves anakin but if anakin is Jesus obi-wan is Peter

And this sort of thing is what ultimately makes Obi-Wan unable to save or kill Anakin on mustafar…like his reliance on orthodoxy over personal conviction is ultimately what leads to Anakin becoming Vader he’s a warning against inaction and how it can lead to the festering of greater problems and evil…

TLDR; Born to boymom, forced to youth pastor. I think he’s a good person who’s exceptionally orthodox and falls back on that orthodoxy to make decisions, which often impedes his ability to act on his love to the extent he instinctually wants to, which are reflective of the issues of the Order in general.

[anti-katsuki-lounge]

At first I thought the reason that I didn't like Bakugou was his deeply grating and aggressive attitude problem. The fact that he suicide bated someone in his introduction and we are all supposed to forget that didn't help.

But then I started and finished all of dragon ball z. Vegeta is so much worse that Bakugou objectively. Bakugou is just a middle school bully with delusions of grandeur. Vegeta is a planet destroying war criminal. Even in terms of attitude problems Vegeta has Bakugou beat. Vegeta's pride puts Bakugou's inferiority/superiority issues to shame.

And yet despite all of this I really really like Vegeta as a character. He was great every time he was on screen and I enjoyed his slow redemption arc.

Why is that?

I think the issue is in the goals of the respective series. Dragon ball is about being stronger and improving yourself. Bnha is about becoming heros.

It really grates at me that Bakugou's goal is going to be a hero. Which is essentially, and idol that has the power to arrest people. That's a lot of authority to give bully. It's especially grating that Bakugou never seems to realize just how far out of reach his goal is, not because of his lack of power, but because he sucks as a person. He has yet to become a decent person let alone be revered as a hero.

Vegeta meanwhile wants to get stronger and beat Goku. A clear objective that he is constantly working towards and always comes just short of achieving. I honestly can't help but root for that bastard.

There is also a stark difference between how they are treated by the other characters and narrative.

Vegeta is tolerated by most of the cast because they have far bigger problems and need all the fighters they can get. Also over half of the Z fighters have tried to kill Goku at one point or another and few of them have a strict sense of justice. So it doesn't feel weird that they are friends/allies. Vegeta simply put doesn't warp the characters around him.

Bakugou meanwhile is surrounded by heroes and hero students. And all on them are cool with him despite him nearly murdering Izuku in the battle trials. His shitty attitude doesn't prevent him from making friends when it realistically would. Bakugou warps the narrative around him.

Their redemption arcs are handled differently too.

Bakugou's main (and only) victim is the protagonist and that's the only thing that keeps him relevant to the plot. It's not crazy for me to expect an apology and a proper reflection on what he has done a lot sooner than chapter 322. Even after this he keeps being a jerk. The manga is going to be finished soon. This is taking far to long.

Vegeta's redemption takes far longer than Bakugou's. Yet it doesn't feel like it takes forever. Maybe this is because Vegeta actually contributes to the plot in other ways. Such as, his constant quest to get stronger, everything related to Freiza, and his relationships to his new family on earth. His sacrifice remains iconic too. I really really doubt Bakugou's will be.

Characters have a habit of saying that Bakugou has changed while he hasn't. Vegeta meanwhile says that he achieved super sainin because his heart is pure, pure evil! Which is a neat difference.

Vegeta is a better character for me because, he doesn't warp the characters around him, the narrative doesn't say he's changed until he actually changed, and he has interesting stuff going on outside his relationship with the protagonist.

So yeah. I guess all character archetypes can be enjoyable and it really does all depend on the writer.

All of this. There are characters who’ve done far worse than Katsuki. Vegeta and Zuko are perhaps the two most popular characters that come to mind. The difference is that their egos are constantly knocked down, they face actual trials, experience loss due to their actions, and ultimately denounce their old ways and aim to correct their wrongs. Katsuki’s ego is never knocked in any logical way, he never has his faults thrown at his face, never had to face conflict, and is treated as being some amazing person by the narrative.

[secretsofthewilde]

There's something particularly frustrating about how academic fandom studies tend to talk about fandom spaces as being a place for inclusiveness and queer representation when there's still a very prominent misogyny problem throughout them. Even when these studies address issues of racism within fandom shipping dynamics, they still tend to perpetuate the idea that fandom is the rare place where queer ships tend to be more popular than straight ones, without really addressing the fact that this tends to only true when it comes to cis, white, m/m ships. If you want some kind of numerical evidence of this, you just need to look at the statistics on ao3 to see that f/f ships are the least popular kind of pairing on that site. And when you think of the stereotypical big name fandoms, most of them are well known for their m/m ships, with the f/f ships often being dismissed or treated as a joke.

I'm not of the opinion, nor trying to make an argument in support of the idea, that this is due to the stereotype of fangirls fetishising queer men. Instead, I think it's largely due to misogyny* - shocker, I know. I really do think that the stereotypical fangirl gravitates towards slash pairings due to both internalised misogyny and the general prominence of male oriented media over female oriented media (which will therefore have more male characters that are fleshed out with more engaging writing as opposed to their female supporting cast).

However, it's one thing for the abundance of male driven stories to generate more fan works exploring said characters, and another entirely for those same fans to then ignore when we do have media that gives us well written and enjoyable female characters. I think it's in part due to our internalised misogyny that fangirls have a tendency to gravitate towards their familiar male orientated shows and then fixate on the same familiar character types, rather than exploring and celebrating the breadth of female-centric media we have finally been getting produced in recent years. And this inability to allow ourselves to enjoy female characters the same way we do with male ones is what leads to an abundance of slash pairings being celebrated in fandom spaces, while femslash ones struggle to get recognition**. The fact that there's a common joke in fandom spaces about popular pairings developing between two characters who never interacted (or for only a brief scene) is all very well and good fun, but this is almost always referring to a m/m pairing.

As fans we should really reflect on why we might celebrate a male character for doing morally grey things, but then hate a female character for exhibiting those exact same traits. It's fine to genuinely not enjoy the writing of a female character (especially when sexist writing is often to blame), but we should consider how much more willing we seem to be to forgive poor writing when it comes to male characters than we are with female characters. If we can make a million headcanons and claim to love a poorly written male character, who is now viewed as something so far removed from the canon of the media he appears in its practically a different character entirely, why do so many of us seem unwilling to do the same for female characters?

We should be doing the same with our female characters - we should be putting more female characters into our favourite dynamics and tropes. I want to see more enemies to lovers headcanons with femslash pairings; I want nbc hannibal levels of art and meta posts about toxic femslash couples; I want johnlock levels of delusion posts about a femslash couple the story writers are claiming they didn't write the subtext for. I would just really love to log into tumblr and see a femslash pairings tag is trending more than once in a blue moon.

*note: obviously misogny is not the only contributing factor, and this initial argument I'm raising doesn't address the issues surrounding racial, gender-queer identities, and other inequalities within fandom. Please do not think I'm ignoring or downplaying them.

**Theres also an argument to be made here about fangirls projecting themselves onto male characters in order to explore queer relationships, without having to challenge their own internalised misogyny/homophobia, but I'll come back to that later (and this in general) and expand on it some other time I think.

[voltstone]

THE THREE (OF FIVE) TWDG DEATHS WHICH HAUNT ME SO

Okay, so this is more of an opinion piece than it is an essay, but like, all of my essays are my own opinion anyway… Whatever. This is an opinion piece, I don't care.

Basically.

These are the 3 TWDG deaths that got to me.

Plus the, like, other two that definitely got to me too, but…they're different. I'll get into it.

I could have made this into more of an essay-essay, but whatever. I have two more in the works, one of them being more of a commentary which includes both Luke and Brody's, and then another one that's about Ben and Sarah actually.

Both of those will take a little bit, and I have a suspicion the first may end up being the longest essay by the end.

Anyway. Here's this.

[The Boring Ones]

My Clementine shot Lee, and she shot Kenny after he killed Jane. Very sadness. Got knots and tears in my throat.

So. There you go.

Anyway—

Okay, I am being a little bit of an ass. Of course there's a lot to analyze and evaluate with both deaths. Lee's is reflective of his character and what he wants for Clementine. S2's ending, meanwhile, is reflective of Clementine herself, just in a very different way; it's a test of loyalty and, given how I tend to play, a testament of what she would do at a breaking point; or, it could also be another decision of what's best for her, should the player choose based off of what information they have.

The main reason why I won't really consider these two of the "TWDG deaths that got to me" is… Well, for one, there's already been in-depth analyses of both, and while I could contribute, it would take analyzing their respective seasons as well, picking apart player choice, and yada yada. Secondly, this essay is more about the "smaller" deaths. Not the ones that are as emphasized in this way by the narrative. These deaths represent the losses along the way, and some of them hurt more than others, and get a rise.

That being said, one of them is related to these in how I processed the narrative, so one of these two will come up again. Just, less as a remark of the scene itself, and more a remark of the "smaller" death.

Anyhow, both of these scenes are catastrophic moments in the narrative either way. But because they are so catastrophic, they're not really relevant to this.

This is also what arguably makes this essay not that but instead an opinion piece. If I wanted to go in a more "essay" route (evaluation), I would have been focused on deconstructing the deaths that got to Clementine as a character and why, since that would be more of an analysis of TWDG, not the deaths that got to me because… I dunno. It's my feelings and my opinion.

And I feel like sharing it transparently here. Rather than using my own inferences or experiences as example.

[LUKE]

But! But! Luke's death was so stupid and didn't need to happen it was just a way for the season to be all depressing and stupid and—! And they could've walked around or crawled better on the ice and, and—!

Okay. I don't give a shit.

Not to say that I don't recognize the blaring narrative issues surrounding this moment, because I do. There is a lot to comment on; in fact, as I mentioned, this is one of the two deaths which will be analyzed in another essay. So in that essay, I will actually care about it.

Regardless, it's not that relevant here. Kinda. I won't indulge in it too much. There's no war in Ba Sing Se. Shh.

Luke's death is just tragedy, plain and simple.

The group is crossing this lake, desperate to just get out of the open winter and into some semblance of shelter. The house was never finished, but the fact that they still gun for it speaks to their desperation. …even if the game could have emphasized the desperation more, in the moment. But. Whatever.

With Luke's death, there's three different ways it can happen. Clementine listens to Bonnie, and goes to help Luke immediately. Clementine listens to Luke initially, and keeps the walkers off him while Bonnie goes against his word and tries to help. Both scenarios, two fall into the ice, that being Luke and whoever's closer. Then, there's a secondary option should Clementine try to save Luke thereafter, and she'll fall into the ice as well.

Bonnie's fate is also decided here. Depending on the choices, she'll die.

Regardless though, there was a slim chance that Luke was going to get out of that, if any at all. Once that ice started to break through, I don't really know if there would be anything he could've done. Some say he could've gotten closer to the ice to spread his weight better, so that it's not concentrated onto one point. However, Luke doesn't.

For one thing, the character may have been doomed due to his ignorance. If Luke didn't grow up around ice, he wouldn't have known.

Two, he was shot in his leg, and the walkers weren't helping things. So while yes, he may have had the chance to escape the ice, I don't know if Luke's mobility would have allowed it. Simply put, he was wounded by the shootout. And as S2 is concerned, this does represent the narrative's symbolic mark on him: Luke was wounded by a running motif of S2, which I will get to with Rebecca's death. It does say something. You know. Symbolically.

It's this slim chance, on top of the desperation, which has his death be the tragedy it is.

I always interpreted Luke, in that moment, realized he was out of luck. He knew his weight alone was too much, and anyone else—including the child, who's lighter than Bonnie—would've just exacerbated it.

Either way, Bonnie made it worse. Because she's desperate, and when you're desperate, the facts suddenly don't matter until said facts decide to rear their ugly heads.

Tried to save Luke. Fact of the matter was, that wasn't realistic.

Same way the group as a whole tried to save on time and energy, and just cross the ice. It could have been done. Everybody was in front of Luke once he got to that part of the ice, but… Caution was the sacrifice, and Luke got killed for it.

This reading of Luke's demise is another reason why I don't really care about how "unrealistic" it was, or how "stupid."

Was it stupid? Yes. Unrealistic? No.

Because people do die like this, and at a point in the season where the group got to a desperate point, it was only a matter of time before that eagerness to survive got someone killed. I firmly believe that's what his death was supposed to represent.

…the issues around it, which I will better deconstruct and analyze in another essay, boils down to the 1) confusion in the narrative, and 2) the fact that it's Luke. I don't mind that it was Luke, but I understand why people get upset that it's this character dying the way he did.

S2 does stumble a little bit in the reasoning behind them crossing the lake. I think desperation would have been the reason regardless, and it's a realistic one, but I do think they could've done a better job in really cementing that it was desperation. And then, also… The whole lake thing. There is one change that would've fixed everything, and it's a really simple one that was already established:

Make it a river. No, literally. Just make it so that there's no other way to cross. And also, if it was a river, have someone (I say Bonnie, Mike, or Kenny) freak out that they just need a break (which would've signaled that desperation). This being instead of just seeing the house, Kenny complaining, and Mike pointing out that they're there for supplies or something.

…which like, no Mike. You want the shelter too, you dingbat.

But, I digress.

Now, I'll go back to my final decision of S2, because Luke's death absolutely haunted that choice, hence why this death of S2 struck the way it did despite the narrative stumble. In the moment, no, I didn't really think about anything. I just had a visceral reaction and shot Kenny without even reading the other options.

Cuz I was feeling ✨spicy✨.

And by spicy, I mean agitated. There was a domino effect at play, one that Christa's separation incited. However, by this point, so much had already happened.

Then there's just Kenny.

Kenny would blow up, he'd feel remorse, and he'd apologize—like he'd done at the pylon. Then. He just. Turned around, and did the same shit thereafter, despite apology. He beat Arvo when Clementine needed a fire. Because she was climbing to Death's door with hypothermia closing in, and was still rattled from breaking through the ice in a panic to get Luke back.

But here Kenny was beating on a teenager. And when my Clementine went to stop him, he was again remorseful for accidentally hitting Clementine… Yet. Kenny still snapped at her. After that remorse on his face. Muttered a cruel line about "thought you liked this kind of thing" because she'd supported him before with Carver.

And over, and over, and over again. Until a breaking point.

A breaking point, which, I always found was marked by Luke's death in particular. He had been the catalyst to that season's final descent—like how the moment Lee got bit was S1's final catalyst. My Clementine fell into the ice for him, because panic and that desperation arose. She was pulled out, and within that timespan of needing a fire, there was Bonnie, who again didn't help and blamed Clementine. But then, Kenny decided to perpetuate the same cycle that had been a bane on her, even though he, again, apologized before. This same cycle that my Clementine relied on Luke and focus on AJ to escape from.

Except, all of a sudden, there was only AJ to escape to. Luke was gone.

So for my Clementine, he had been the catalyst because he had been the one adult she ultimately needed, regardless of his own shortcomings. She didn't know what to do with Jane, and she was losing her forbearance with Kenny because again, yes, he was a lot to navigate for a child.

And in conjunction with the imagery of Luke in the water (yikes dude, you don't look too good), yeah. It's in the top 3 for me.

[REBECCA]

I quite like Rebecca. I find her character interesting, especially as more time passes, and you realize her aggression in the beginning is…a farce, more or less. Not to say Rebecca can't be confident, or hostile, because we definitely get that side of her after she warms to Clementine, but, she is far more of an anxious woman trying to survive for her baby than anything else. She's stressed about who the father is. There's dead people just walking around. One of the potential fathers is hunting her down for the sake of "his" child.

And then there's just this random ass kid with a mauled arm, because Clementine was bitten. Just by a dog, not…a dead people.

So like yeah, Rebecca's so mean to Clementine in the beginning, but…Imma be honest, I don't know how many people wouldn't have at least been cautious of Clementine.

Once Rebecca does warm up to her, and we see more of that anxiety, and then her desperation/hope to have AJ… She's a nice lady. One of my favorite lines of hers is when she talks about AJ, she's hopeful because regardless of who she gives birth to, this is a new person she'd get to meet.

I just like her, so by the time she panics within the herd, and Clementine is there to help, of course I have Clementine oblige.

…now sure, did that reliance on her feed into the whole "child doing the adulting thing when she shouldn't have"? Well. Yeah.

But she's a nervous pregnant woman, I think asking for any kind of help when actively in a herd is the least concerning instance of "child doing the adulting thing."

She does die though. So. There's that whole thing.

I will say the one thing I do kind of wish is it should have mattered where it happened, or how it went, should the group choose to stay at the observatory deck to rest, or go to the nearby town as soon as they can. Rebecca is going to die regardless; she does not look good after giving birth, and I'm assuming it was both a case of 1) over-exhaustion, and 2) bleeding out that really weakened her, which leaves the hypothermia as that final nail in the coffin.

But, at the same time, the shootout would be at the spot it is regardless because that was where the Russian group had set their trap, it just so happens that Clementine came across Arvo before. And symbolically, so much of this death hinges on the fact that it starts this shootout. It is S2 at its core; if you want to summarize this season, this is the scene to do so.

Hence why I say kind of. I'm always going to value narrative significance over realism whenever there is a conflict of interest between the two. It's nice to have both, but stories are seldom perfect, so. Yeah. The group is at the observation deck for a few days, however, (if you choose to,) so I just…wish there was more of an impact than the dialogue right before the shooting. But, whatever.

Rebecca's death is depressing, and it's indicative of neglect.

Hence why it's here, in this post.

It's also why I will fight tooth and nail for this season, regardless of its shortcomings.

Unlike with Luke, I'll work my way backwards and start with the symbolism/narrative significance for the season before the moment itself.

S2 has a running motif of the Civil War, especially in the episodes after Howe's Hardware, however, you could also include Howe's in the theme. You have people working under a ruthless leader—including Rebecca, who could be bearing his child—, and those people escape. And what does Carver do? He chases them down, in the same manner that slave owners would chase down their slaves. And once he catches them, they're sent to forced labor, aside for the man (Alvin) who posed a threat to Carver's legitimacy as a father, and Rebecca, who was pregnant with a child he could raise like a crop to a field.

…which has me wonder if Rebecca and Alvin both being black, and Carver not was a coincidence, or a conscious choice. On top of Carver being someone fixated on the survival of a strong progeny.

Though as I said, the motif is especially found after Howe's Hardware, because that's when the season decides to be blunt. They find sanctuary in a Civil War site, from a museum to the observation deck. And sure, as much as it is a cheeky nod back to Lee...

This motif is S2's identity. You can't just separate the two and expect to get a grounded understanding of what S2 is as an environment. S2's about Clementine navigating the adult world way too soon, and growing up in the same manner. The environment she's put in is…a civil war.

And it being in winter is actually a very crucial element.

See: Fredricksberg, a battle set in Dec. 11-15 between Lee's Army of Northern Virginia and Burnside's Army of the Potomac… Hm.

I can (and probably will someday) go on and on and on.

Conflict like this is perpetuated throughout the season, and it's concluded with the ultimate civil conflict—between Kenny and Jane, the last two adults in Clementine's group. And it's also found at the time of Rebecca's death, because that sense of conflict is absolutely present given the shootout.

…except, what is interesting is Rebecca's death is the one scene that does not reference the Civil War. It references the United States' Revolutionary War.

Specifically, the shot heard round the world, which is derivative of that first shot which initiated battles in Lexington and Concord (April 19, 1775). The catalyst to the American Revolution, between the colonists, and the English—who were deemed to be invading.

Here, we have S2's core group, and then…another group. Who's distinctly foreign, given the Russian accent and language.

And the shot heard round this season is either dealt by Clementine herself, or Kenny, in order to put down Rebecca's reanimated corpse. The shot wasn't directed at either side here. However, it didn't matter, So in the confusion, the shootout began.

In the same way I can rattle on and on over the Civil War motif throughout, I can rattle on about this scene alone. I won't, aside for this:

This scene feels different because of the sheer amount of symbolism backing it. It's what I mean when I say this scene is S2 at its core. There's the revolutionary symbolism, which illustrates how the group does put aside their differences to fight a common enemy—that being the Russians here, but also the apocalypse itself, given Rebecca's reanimation. Yet, before and after this…, it goes back to the Civil War motif because the "common enemy" is not the central threat. The contention between everyone and their differences are.

So then, the moment itself...

There's this desolation to it. Rebecca died out in the open, still cradling AJ, and Clementine is the only one who notices.

That moment, where the adults are caught up in their own dispute, leaving the child to recognize the situation for what it actually is, and where she's forced to navigate on her own whether or not to take that first shot, or to have one of the adults (Kenny) do it...

It is the one of few deaths I can picture vividly without having to reference a screen.

And, it really speaks to that desolation. The one that the season is adamant to hammer home, because it wants you to miss Lee. To the point it actively uses its motif to kill two birds with one stone and do just that. S2 is where Lee becomes less a comfort, and more of a realization: he was an anomaly in the apocalypse.

Not all Lees were perfect, and did make huge mistakes, but Lee as a person always knew how to treat Clementine, and she never was put into these kind of positions where there's adults around, but there's something happening, why aren't you listening? Why don't you notice me? I need you to actually be there to support me.

It's a lot of why the season is the way it is, and why this scene in particular struck me the way it did. Because throughout it all, I was bombarded by the thought, how did it get to this point? It's nothing like S1's shootout where Clementine was ducked into safety immediately; here, she sees Rebecca, and then she's asked to contribute so that Luke can be a dumbass and dart from one cover to another.

I digress, though.

Like with Luke, there is a lot of narrative implications with Rebecca's death, and the trend will continue in Brody. For the sake of this post, that's telling of me more than anything else. But it is hard to separate the strings attached to each since, often times, whenever something really hits close, it's because there's other contexts to it.

And I also like storytelling. So. Duh.

For me, that other context with Rebecca is S2 as a whole, and the reason why S2 as a whole hits way too close to home is cuz um. Neglect when there's people around you hurts like a bitch. Owie. Thanks for the catharsis, I guess. But also thanks for the symbolic warfare stuff, I do come from a military family.

In any case, I will move onto the last death, because the death in itself is brutal, and Brody's walker is also just…terrifying.

[BRODY]

I like Luke. I quite like Rebecca.

And I really like Brody's character. It's a shame that she only was given so much time, and that's given you even choose to go fishing with her. But within that time, her character is solid. From her design to her dialogue and voice acting, and then to the tension she has with Violet—it's a nice bit of depth to have.

Like a pothole, neglected by the government for years, so there's enough room to dump the bodies.

Now that being said…, I don't mind that she dies so early on. For a number of reasons, but for the sake of this essay, her death really sets the tone, and it does a number of things that feeds into some of what the season explores.

For one, the gravity of the situation Marlon and Brody landed themselves in, right with the rest of the schoolkids. It also better contextualizes Marlon's character, and why he would be troubled youth. Because him bashing her head with a flashlight is a stark contradiction to what kind of person he prides himself to be, right down to how articulate he is in his verbiage.

Two, the state of the apocalypse. The fight between Clementine and Brody's reanimated corpse was a horror in itself, which had been the scene's intention. And that alone says a lot because Clementine knows how to fight at this point, the walkers the player encounters before this are all corroded, so...

Yeah, the apocalypse is still at large, just in a different way, and Brody presents that to us.

Before the reanimation, however, there is the death in itself.

And I can go on about symbolism, and narrative bullshit, and all that stuff cuz I'm a writer, blah blah blah… All the stuff that I did with the previous two deaths.

But I won't because Brody is distinct in that it's not the narrative strings attached that rattle me. The narrative bullshit comes with her reanimated corpse.

So when I see her death, I don't see the Civil War and American Revolution analogies like I do with Rebecca, nor the sentiment of desperation and a catalyst effect like I do with Luke.

All I see is brutality.

Brody's death is the most gutting of the games.

At least, not literally. And also to me, of course, since this is an opinion piece… Or whatever.

Brody is struck once in the head, mid-sentence as she is trying to tell Clementine the truth. And the moment it happens, Brody is completely disorientated.

She first asks, "What did you say?" Then she collapses. Is rendered blind, confused, and has to have her memory jogged to remember who Clementine is as Clementine kneels at her side.

And despite everything, Brody still tells Clementine everything she can.

But there is one line that absolutely guts me:

"Marlon'll kill me if I tell."

Brody is so out of it, she still has yet to truly grasp what happened.

Because. Brody...

Marlon already did.

She is actively dying from her own murder, because of Marlon, and she still is so scared that she tells Clementine the danger she's in.

My coal heart breaks whenever I hear that line, because it's a horrible way to go. One minute you're firm on you ground, telling someone what you need to say, and then next, you're just trying to cobble together the world around you before you're just…gone. That's it.

I wouldn't be surprised if Brody's last conscious moment was before the flashlight struck.

And, of course, the direction of this scene does everything. The voicework, the camera, the lighting. It all just works to elevate how dark, and how brutal this scene is.

Then we get to the reanimation, where again, it's a horror. The scene portrays it as a horror. There's the moment where Brody comes out of the shadows to snatch Clementine right back down into the basement. There's the parallel to Lee with the hammer and Sandra.

But ultimately, Brody serves as this season's reminder as to how dangerous TWDG's apocalypse remains to be. Sure, all the walkers now are decayed. They can't move as well. They don't hit as hard. So they only get really dangerous whenever they're in herds.

…yet, Brody's corpse is a huge threat. Why?

Well. While Brody's body was horking and growling in the shadows, Clementine is just waltzing around getting the flashlight and then a ruler to get out. She doesn't pay any mind to…Brody. Even though Clementine could clearly see that Brody was away from the broiler.

It's a false sense of security, which was ultimately how the apocalypse started in the first place; it took the world by surprise, and people panicked, and it spread all the more.

Not only that, Brody was a survivor. Her corpse is stronger than a lot of the earlier walkers because for the past many years, she had to build the muscle and dexterity to, you know, survive. And just before this scene, we see Brody knock Marlon flat on his ass because she's not dainty, here. She's really strong.

Maybe not quite on Clementine's level, but she's strong enough to pose a threat as a walker.

I just think it's cool. This death. And Rebecca's death. And Luke's death. I also like S2, I don't care.

Anyway that's it.

No I'm not giving this a proper conclusion. I'm done.

[everyones-least-favorite-bard]

hey uh actually its time for me to vomit some thoughts on ghostbat

i really do love all the content out here for them in the vein of like divorced-core bitchy snarking and whatnot its funny its classic fandom behavior so its got that nostalgia factor its real fun to see but (non derogatory) but! i feel like thats such a watered down way of observing them. a reflection of a reflection of a reflection if u know what i mean

like obviously this isnt a new thing fandom is doing dynamics get dissolved into the simplest, most consumable caricatures of themselves possible all the time. its like a rite of passage at this point. but there are truly so many fascinating directions you could take ghostbat in particular and seeing it dissolved into just. gesturing at the above paragraph. that. is kind of sad.

i think (and this is just my observations from reading batman the knight and vol 3 of batman inc) one of the keys to their dynamic that really gets me is how modern-era (for lack of a better term) ghostmaker is consistently chasing bruce's shadow. i would say most of his actions can be described as being motivated by a desire to understand and be understood by batman.

like. hes living in batman's shadow not because batman's reputation precedes him or because batman is more capable than he is but because there is something fundamental in batman that ghostmaker believes he lacks. it's a key part of the infamous pseudo-break-up-in-the-rain in issue 105 of batman (2016) when bruce leaves khoa for gotham: bruce says, “you’re sick. there’s a part of you that’s broken and you’re angry that it’s not broken in me.” and khoa is reasonably incensed by this and takes a swing at him. they devolve into a fight that ends with the agreement we saw dick reference obliquely in issue 104.

of course, this assertion is categorically false—bruce himself points it out later in the 2021 batman annual. ghostmaker discusses his latest take-down of a major portion of his rogues gallery and how his successful defeat of all of them makes him a fundamentally better crime-fighter/vigilante than batman since he’s doing it without any of the personal vendettas and attachments bruce has.

but the key is that in his recounting of his battle he inadvertently reveals that he does in fact have a connection with each of them: madame midas and kid kawaii in particular. madame midas took down his fathers business when khoa was young and we see in his memory that this is something that deeply upset him and something he never forgot. in his actual take-down of her he brings it back up when he delivers the killing blow (batman annual 2021). with kid kawaii hes visibly upset by her physical appearance being that of a child and regularly does his best in their fights to take her down in a way that can hopefully allow whatever child-like portions of her remain to be saved (batman 108). i believe one of his battles with her actually contributed to her creators having to put an emotional inhibitor in her since some of what he'd said last time they fought got through to her (batman 107/108).

and bruce points this out!! he's somewhat subtle about it, of course, but he points out that no actually, khoa isn't free from this fundamentally very human part of him that wants to help people because it's good and that wants justice for wrongs slighted against him. still in the batman annual issue, he says, “you spent years focused on a single crime lord. that dedication isn’t about glory or efficacy. there’s a reason why this victory matters to you. a reason why you care.” and khoa (after a flashback) gives an embarrassingly flimsy defense in response to this but it’s still very, very clear that he does, in fact, suffer from the same bleeding-heart syndrome bruce does—if perhaps not as intensely.

obviously i have my gripes and whatnot with khoa being tagged as a psychopath since it seems kind of flimsy at best but i don't know enough about aspd-spectrum disorders to really pin it as definitively good or bad but still!! still!! he does have the personal stake in vigilantism that he condemns bruce for having (not even touching on the whole phantom one/clownhunter arc). at the end of the day ghostmaker believes hes missing this unnameable quality of empathy/desire for justice and he thinks that's what separates him from bruce and what makes them incompatible as partners (vigilante partners but also like. take that as you will): it is not.

the reason they cannot work together is because khoa believes he is missing this part of himself and as long as he continues to believe he's incapable of these things he's never going to measure up to his ideal of batman in any of the ways that matter.

on the batman end of things i feel like bruce is most characterized (at least in the batman the knight era of their relationship) by his desire to see khoa “fixed,” for lack of a better word. he initially takes khoa at face value for things, so when khoa gives his whole "i’m a vigilante for the art, the drama" speech he believes him.

it's actually a very sweet kind of naivete—like, of course, why wouldn't khoa know why he's doing this? bruce is very clear in his convictions regarding his motives for vigilantism and he and khoa are at the very least intellectually matched, so why wouldn't khoa be honest? why wouldnt he know the reason why he fights? if minhkhoa khan, the ghostmaker, says he fights crime because he believes in the aestheticism of a job well done, why wouldn’t bruce believe him?

so it becomes a point of contention between them for a very long time because bruce believes this kind of selfish method/motive and the incompatibility between them because of it will eclipse any relationship they have and, looking at the notorious issue 105 rain fight, it technically has. in their first mini-divorce arc in issue 6 of batman the knight in which they have a fistfight in the snow and khoa leaves bruce after beating the shit out of him he spends much of the fight talking, again, about the artistry of crime-fighting and how he enjoys the challenge of it more than the justice. when he wins the fight, he stands over bruce with a gun and contemplates shooting him (contemplates being used generously here: he stands over bruce visibly anguished before dropping the gun) and his excuse for not finishing bruce off is just that it would be, “too easy" (batman the knight issue 6). again: bruce has no reason to question this—even in a brutal physical altercation khoa continues touting his vaguely hedonistic motives behind joining bruce’s crusade. there is no reason why bruce shouldn’t believe him.

its only when he comes back in issue 8 and leaves with bruce towards the league of assassins that we see bruce kind of begin questioning how true khoa’s cited motivations are. obviously he's still pretty deeply embroiled in his Woe: I the Bat am Alone theatre kid bullshit—“this can’t last. and i think we both know it.”—so he spends most of their time together more observing the idea of khoa he has in mind and convincing himself that anything he sees outside of his established framework isn’t real, but we see when they escape ra's and blow up a major league of assassins headquarters that the illusion is starting to slip (batman the knight issue 9).

in their one-v-one combat for the position of demon’s heir (demon’s heart in bruce’s case) bruce’s monologue switches out of his doom-and-gloom khoa and i are incompatible talk into more of the space we see him in around the issue 105 break-up: during their fight bruce says, “there’s nothing to you! there’s nothing there! you know what’s in me?! everything!” which is a less accusatory version of the 105 quote but still in the same vein (batman the knight issue 10). so we see bruce has moved past taking khoa at face value regarding his joy in “the artistry of crime-fighting” but he still hasn’t quite shifted further into recognizing khoa’s other/true motives.

the rain break-up on bruce’s end, then, shows a further evolution of his interpretation of khoa’s behavior: he believes khoa’s desire to continue working with him is founded from a desire to keep bruce on his level—an action rooted in jealousy over something he will never be able to obtain. khoa believes this as well since, as stated before, he hits bruce in the face immediately after it’s pointed out. but even then he is still taking what khoa says at face value: he still believes khoa is only motivated by his thirst for a challenge and that khoa wants bruce by his side more so he isn’t alone in his empty hedonism than for actual wanting of bruce himself. this informs his reaction in issue 104 after he and robin chase a criminal to singapore: after his undisclosed argument with khoa he is visibly upset over the state of their relationship but believes it irreparable due to the differences in their morals.

i think from there though, bruce only begins picking out the gaps in the mess that is khoa (that we see anyway) when khoa’s telling him about his grand exploits after they meet up again. while their earlier conversations (ie; batman asking ghostmaker to stay in late issue 105) definitely reveal bruce’s newer perspective on khoa, it’s really only the batman annual 2021 conversation where we see bruce make the jump to further filling in what khoa is (very loudly) not saying. another tumblr post also mentioned the scene being the first recorded mention of bruce saying khoa’s name after the rain fight—which considering the last time we saw him say it was The Fucking Rain Break Up Again, sort of thematically implies he’s reached another level of understanding with khoa.

so i’d say on batman’s end he very badly wants to understand khoa, but he’s also only just starting to realize that he doesn’t have enough of the pieces.

this got away from me tbh but the point being: ghostbat has more nuance than a lot of incorrect-quote-y type content has room for.

[charmac]

They’re not allowed to read fanfic? Darn, I kind of assumed Rob found your Twitter handle from reading your fic since he didn’t seem to do anything else on twitter when he followed you

So it comes down to the basic idea of copyright. It’s not illegal or technically even banned, but since RCG are creators, writers, producers, etc. on Sunny and not just actors, it’s really a dicey area for them.

The copyright laws/legality of fanfiction is actually really interesting, there’s a long, messy modern history of fighting for the right to publish and protect fanfiction from studios and/or creators claiming copyright infringement. This use to be a huge issue where authors would send cease and desists to websites like Fanfiction.net to take down all fanfiction of their work. OTW (Ao3) kind of spearheaded the right for fanfiction to exist apart from what it's derived from. The T standing for Transformative argues that because fanworks ‘transform’ the content they are based off, they are exempt from copyright law, as long as there’s no profit. So we cannot find ourselves in legal trouble for publishing fanfiction. As long as it's transformative (aka you're not just republishing source material), it's new/original content.

So that means fanfiction kinda has its own protections in return. As long as you're not profiting off of your work, you have a right to claim that your fanfiction and the ideas that are new/original belong to you. Which means if there is ever any proof that a creator read your work and then a later episode (or sequel, book, etc.) reflected anything you wrote that was not already in the source material prior to that, it can get very messy, in that there may be grounds for you to claim they profited off of your work. So most creators (writers especially) avoid reading fan works.

You can see why for a show like Sunny they might be especially careful reading anything, since there’s so much you can do in that show. If RCG have an idea for something as simple as The Gang Goes Camping, for example, but they’ve previously seen or read a fan work that hit that plot they’d be pretty inclined to never make the episode.

The basic idea being that you don’t want to hinder what you can in good conscience, with no legal issues, write, so you avoid fanworks all together.

I'll give you an example based on what happened with Charlie: he was in public and surrounded by fans and one fan hands him his spec script, or plot idea for an episode. If he had read it, all of a sudden whatever was on that paper becomes a legally grey issue in the writers room. If they liked the plot idea or dialogue (or whatever was on that paper) and end up using something in an actual episode, what claim does the fan now have? Everyone at the event could potentially tell you that this fan contributed to the show, so it's best not to read it. Don't risk ruling out a plot line you may have wanted, don't risk accidentally stealing from a fan, don't risk the show ending up in a legal battle.

Also, first anon: I still don't know why or have any solid proof as to how Rob found my account, but at the time he followed me I did have a 5hr old Tweet with ~15k likes reposting one of his TikToks and calling him the cringiest person alive. I didn't tag him or name him, he didn't like it, or interact with it or any of the replies or literally any other Tweet that day, but I have to imagine he saw it and that's why he followed me. Degradation kink overrules everything else.

[answer2jeff]

the fatherhood theory:

my take on lip gallagher finding purpose in parenthood.

First things first, I quickly want to congratulate the writers for beautifully articulating the accuracy of Lip's initial reaction to Freddy's birth.

Tami had an extremely complicated birth that resulted in her requiring surgery. Lip, both as a new father and as a boyfriend, was legitimately terrified. He couldn't decide if he should stay with Tami or their son. His thought process probably included the possibility of the mother of his child suffering, further trailing to the fear of fatherly absence. Naturally, considering Lip's lack of a genuine father figure, contributing anything remotely resembling neglect or failure to accommodate to his son feels like the worst and most unforgivable thing he could ever do.

Secondly, I want to say that although Tami is quite different compared to Lip's other love interests, I think she was relatively realistic at the time. She has drive and compassion, and Lip loves a good sarcastic girl who affectionately ridicules the guy she loves. She's abrasive in a way that is more meant to establish her intelligence rather than actually put others around her down. Tami is also terrible at accepting criticism, but doesn't respond in the explosive anger that Lip does. She's more passive aggressive than, well...aggressive aggressive. Even though it's not quite the healthiest, it's much more flexible than rage.

In short, Lip sees a lot of himself in Tami. But, she's a more put together, determined version of him. She's the star that Lip never really turned out to be, even if she's not absolutely perfect. Their relationship is accurate for the conditions of the show (and Lip's life.) Tami doesn't give Lip a lot of opportunities to self sabotage because she's pretty much dubbed herself the lead of their relationship.

(not ignoring the fact that she said he'd be a shitty father by the way. that crushed my soul and i'll never forgive her but that's besides the point.)

Having to decide to let professionals (doctors and nurses, who he notoriously does not trust (rooted by capitalistic healthcare environments and the need for independence due to his childhood trauma), try their best to help Tami when she was literally blue and unresponsive, was difficult and extremely scary.

However, once Freddy has been properly cleaned and prepared to be held by his father, Lip suddenly finds the answer to so many of his interpersonal questions.

"I seem to have ruined everything I was once good at. Is there anything I won't automatically ruin just because I don't think I deserve it?"

Fatherhood.

"Would I be any better at this than my parents were?"

Yes, with practice.

"Would I be able to break the cycle?"

Yes, with love.

"Is it necessary for me to feel so deeply about the world?

Yes. Even if it's painful.

"And was it ever worth hiding that with anger?"

To some extent, yes. You wanted to protect yourself.

"Am I, deep down, past my inevitable quickness to rage, a good person?"

Yes. You always have been.

In hindsight, his excitement for becoming a dad seems kind of obvious considering his overjoyed and emotional reaction. But I think we can dig deeper beyond this surface level impression. Even if it's genuine and ultimately very good at showing Lip's love for his son. Something that I think really prepared Lip for the complications of parenthood was the time period during his time as a college student taking care of Liam.

He'd been surrounded by family members for his entire life that he did not trust. When Fiona, his beacon of support throughout his whole childhoo despite their complicated sibling relationship, made such a grave mistake that reflected neglect, Lip felt unsafe. Both Frank and Monica were typical offenders of drug and alcohol abuse. And they regularly dabbled in allowing these substance issues to affect their children.

Now there was really nobody in his family he could trust. Lip would have to re-learn how to fend for himself and his family. He's had plenty of experience, but he had a support system. Even if it contained his own siblings who lived the same abusive life as he did. But now that he didn't trust anyone around Liam, he literally had to become his primary caregiver.

"You're the closest thing to a dad we've ever had," said Ian Gallagher.

Becoming Freddy's father was the love that Lip needed in his life. Girlfriends are replaceable. Lip has proven this. But he always believed that once you become a father, you do not have the right to back out. And he'd always hold himself to that standard.

This is your life now. Do it right, or go to hell.

People like Lip need to have people in their lives who unconditionally rely on them. His siblings have chosen many times (and rightfully of course) to handle personal matters without Lip's advice. He hasn't gotten to feel as needed or as important as he deserved to be. Having a child, though unexpected, was the missing piece to the endless puzzle that was his life's purpose.

Lip's desire to be a good father not only stemmed from the failure of his own parents, but the fact that guiding his siblings through life was the one thing that everyone around him that everyone was convinced he couldn't do better than anyone else. (Personally, I think Fiona did a great job as an older sister. I'm more speaking from the perspectives and opinions of his siblings.)

Lip will feel love for himself through Teddy. Once he can finally succeed for the long term, he will find peace.

Not to say that he's automatically perfect, because he's not (and no one else is), but he's ready to take on the challange.

Freddy is the love of Lip's life.

And he always will be.

[history-deep-dive]

Napoleon (2023): How Not to Make a History Film

The upcoming release of Gladiator 2 has inspired me to reflect on Ridley Scott’s last crack at bringing history to the big screen. I have many thoughts on this movie. Unfortunately, most of them are bad. As a lifelong Napoleonophile, I was, perhaps, inevitably going to be disappointed by this film, but I think there’s more to it than that. Saying that this film is bad is not an especially novel or useful observation. People far more talented than me have made that argument at length. Instead, I want to talk about why its bad, and what that tell us about how best to use history in cinema and fiction more generally.

(1) What is this movie even about?: managing scope in historical narratives

Napoleon’s biggest problem as a movie is its pacing. This film is trying to cram 30 of the most tumultuous years in modern European history (1793-1821) into 2:30. There is simply too much information and not enough runtime to convey it to the audience. The result is a movie which moves from one event to the next at a bewilderingly fast pace with almost no context or explanation of how one scene relates to the next. One moment Napoleon is blowing holes in the pyramids, and 20 minutes later St. Petersburg is on fire. The film moves so quickly it borders on incomprehensibility.

This issue is compounded by the fact that it contains far too many overlapping themes and subplots, which compete for limited screen time. It’s trying to be a biopic, a romance, a war movie, a political drama, and a tragedy at the same time. Each of these individual threads is interesting in its own, right, but they drown each other out. This effect contributes substantially to the general sense of “what the hell is going on?” that prevades the whole film.

Incidentally, this leads into one of the most important lessons this movie provides about how to (not) use history in fiction, controlling scope. The great thing about history as opposed to fantasy is that it provides a nearly infinite potential for detail. 185,000 people fought at Waterloo, and every one of them could be the subject of a movie all their own. The downside of this enormous depth is that it makes it very easy to go too “wide” if you aren’t paying attention and end up with a movie that doesn’t make any sense (ie Napoleon 2023). In order to make use of the fantastic depth and complexity that a historical setting provides, the overall scope of the story has to be limited. A detailed, nuanced film about Austerlitz, Waterloo, or for that matter Josephine, is almost always going to be more interesting than a film that skips through all of those historical subjects without really doing any of them justice.

(2) Who is this guy anyway?: Historical accuracy and cause and effect

This film does Napoleon Bonaparte dirty. Scott transforms one of the greatest geniuses in modern history as a foolhardy, dimwitted, emotional teenager who thinks with his dick first and his brain second Almost every decision Bonaparte makes in this film is motivated by lust and jealousy regarding Josephine. Those that aren’t are mostly impulsive and ill considered. In short, Napoleon Bonaparte is an idiot.

The reason for this is fairly straightforward. The toxic romance at the center of this film requires the protagonist to be kind of dumb, and so he is. The problem with this is that it creates a jarring disconnect between the historical events portrayed in the film and the characters involved. Throughout this movie, the audience is left wondering how this idiot we’ve never once seen make a good decision has inexplicably ended up master of Europe. Radically changing the personalities of the characters involved while keeping the events of the historical narrative the same results in a story where noone‘s behavior or motivations make sense.

This brings us to another fundamental law of writing good historical fiction, don’t fight the history. Despite what the nature of this blog might imply, I’m not actually a great stickler for historical accuracy. Changing a little something here or there for the sake of the narrative is totally fine and even beneficial. The problem is that history is all about cause and effect, everything is connected. Altering substantive details effectively removes the events you’re discussing from their appropriate place in the chain of causality. Change one thing too significantly, and you can easily end up creating a story that no longer makes sense.

The way to create compelling historical narratives is to go with the flow of the source material, not against it. Find what’s compelling about the history and then write a story about that. Don’t write a story in a vacuum, and then artificially impose it onto a historical setting.

(3) Verdict and closing thoughts

I generally don’t enjoy writing about media I dislike. In most cases, I subscribe to the principle of “don’t like, don’t watch/read”, but I wanted to organize my thoughts about Napoleon (2023) because my problems with it cut to the heart of what I think constitutes good or bad historical fiction. A lot of reviews of this film have focused on the fact that it’s wildly historically inaccurate. They’re right, of course, but that’s not really the problem. The problem is that it doesn’t use history well. The historical setting feels like deadweight rather than something that enhances the film and brings it to life. Dissecting why this movie doesn’t work can help us create historical fiction that does, and I think that’s worthwhile.

Review: 3/10

[satorutistic]

i made a quick analysis on why i think gojo is autistic :3

open for more

i know a lot of these traits can be linked to the six eyes and how he was raised, but its still extremely similar to the autistic experience.

main points r difficulty with facial expressions, sensory overload, social difficulty, masking, and restrictive interests.

difficulty with facial expressions

gojo has little to no control over his facial expressions. he is either extremely obvious or extremely hard to read.

- for example, when gojo is discussing something meaningful to him we can see him smiling while displaying positive emotions. this could be attributed to him unmasking because of excitement and/or joy.

this is the exact opposite when he is upset!!

- when gojo is upset, his face goes completely blank as if he doesn’t know how to process what he is feeling. when being sealed in chapter 90 and during the events of chapter 76, we can see this happening!

sensory overload

gojo canonically struggles with sensory overload. he wears something covering his eyes at all times because he gets overwhelmed easily. gojo often complains of “seeing too much” or “feeling too much” and a huge part of autism spectrum disorder is the issues with sensory processing. the six eyes definitely contribute to this, but i believe autism may be a coexisting condition that gojo has.

social difficulty

gojo is frequently unable to tell if someone is joking or serious.

- for example, he believes that utahime is joking about hating him when she really does. (this is stated by gege)

gojo always seems to have the incorrect reaction to serious situations and never truly knows how to go about a social situation. (“i ate that thing.” “really?”) gojo often skips over important details and dwells on unimportant ones. he also lacks the ability to have empathy and connect with most people! his social difficulty is just like what most autistic people experience.

masking

gojo masks to the point where others see him as somebody with no personality. he is constantly reflecting behaviors of others (ex: mimicking sugurus mannerisms) to appear as ‘normal’. during hidden inventory, gojo had absolutely no idea how normal teens acted, so he was seemingly out of place. quickly, gojo created a mask based on other teens and was perceived as a stereotypical ‘normal’ teenager.

restrictive interests

autistic people are known to have restrictive, often odd, interests that interfere with their everyday lives. i believe gojos special interest might be digimon!

- an example of this is chapter 66 where gojo compares tengen and the star plasma vessel to digimon! infodumping about a special interest and using it to make complex situations make sense is a common factor of autism.

and for a headcanon, i believe gojo uses sweets to stimulate his brain and thats why he likes them so much!!! okay .. that is all.. autistic satoru gojo is real ..

[pri-rp]

The Scars

@theothervonkarmagirl

In Makellos, and even in the journey back home, Zelda's skin had seemed flawless. They'd not yet shared a space at night, beyond the formality of appearances before heading for Hyrule.

As She had warned Miles, the Castle was rubble. There were signs of construction, but she's put her needs and comfort last to everything else that needed fixed. Kakariko and the Gorons thankfully had supported themselves well enough to not need much, and Link gaining the respect of the Moblin Leader meant they'd agreed to stick to the dessert.

At least until things were rebuilt, and to give time for people to heal. Knowing they were thinking people and not just minions of darkness... She'd made a promise to to them to renegotiate as soon as the Castle was repaired.

That Promise is the sole reason there was as much constructed as could be seen already.

No, the bulk of issues were in Castle Town directly, and with the Zora... They'd lost the old queen, so on top of everything else, Treaties had to be renewed with the new king, who was far to young for his station. Zelda felt sorry him, and had made her stance on being fair and respectful and not to misuse his inexperience clear. Of course, said inexperience was part of the slow down, and now she was Queen and he had a fellow king to meet... She wanted him to be armed with knowledge, since Manfred had neglected to give the tool.

Zelda hoped Miles being prepared would help him adjust. She still wondered if he had reservations hidden about this arrangement.

This was the third night at the classy hotel Zelda basically had bought out for herself and the other castle residents. The owners couldn't really complain with the arrangement, their workers were compensated and they didn't even need worry about taxes on top of things for the contribution of space.

It was their third night sharing a room, and bed, as awkward as it has been... but it's the first time her neck is exposed. Zelda had rigid grid like webbing up her neck and on the bottoms of her chin, like rectangular electricity. They were clearly scars, but even a blast of lightning magic wouldn't leave marks like that... and until now, she hadn't even seemed to hardly wear make-up, aside from some traditional decorations on the wedding day.

Zelda said nothing about them though, standing infront of the mirror, her still damp hair from the rather short bath being brushed repeatedly. It was clearly brushed well enough, but the way she was zoned out looking at her reflection, lips terse and brows stiff... It was clearly an autonomous motion. Zelda was in thought, likely over the coming schedule. The three days had been, for her, seemingly unproductive. Mostly letting Miles adjust, learn the lay of the land, see first hand some common customs, and such.

Tomorrow was to be the vows at a sacred place, a hylian wedding tradition she insisted on, though considerably small compared to the huge celebration of a Makellos wedding. There was no real guest list, just a few witnesses and the guards to accompany them...

Well, there was one person from a small town she expected to be there, someone Miles should meet apparently, but it still was a small ceremony, not a grand display of the union to the people.

If anything, this felt to be an attempt of a proper union outside of the political side of things with how small it was.

But that was tomorrow: Tonight, Miles was getting to see something he'd never seen before' lacing her neck like a ghoulish necklace. Those scars were intricate and must be a pain for her to have had covered up this entire time. She said nothing of it though, as her brush runs through her hair...