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lornaka · 6 months ago

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My five cents on Tech’s fate in TBB

It’s been over three weeks since the show ended and I’ve been writing this in my head ever since, mostly to have it summed up in one post for posterity lol. I considered letting it go at this point but I know it’ll drive me crazy if I don’t get it out of my system so might as well.

So here we go, some of my rambly post-finale thoughts on Tech’s death (and a few other issues) under the cut!

Disclaimer: while this post is in critical spirit (because that’s how my brain works), I want to make clear that I have nothing but respect and gratitude towards everyone who’s worked on the show. My criticisms are of the final story as a whole as I interpret it (art is art, everything is subjective, you know the drill), but one never knows what goes into the process of making it behind the scenes, so I’m not holding anything against the creative team. I love this show dearly and am in awe of how good it is at its best, despite certain things I wish they did differently.

To begin, if I had to sum up the biggest problem that TBB writing suffers from, it would be lack of closure, and too many red herrings. Not just for Tech, but many things. Major plot threads as well as little character moments are cultivated or thrown in just to never culminate in anything or to be immediately discarded after serving the plot, some of them incredibly misleading. Some of the top examples:

- Crosshair’s chip. We never get an exploration of how the trauma of his chip activating and being left behind not only affected his motivation and choice to stay with the Empire, but his relationship with his brothers. While it was made fairly obvious, if subtly, that Crosshair became free of the chip’s influence after getting hit by the ion engine on Bracca, the narrative treated this change as if it didn’t matter at that point, while it obviously mattered a lot within the context of Crosshair’s character. Add to that all these little details with him clutching his head in s1 finale, Omega expressing her disappointment in him, and Tech’s comment on how “it is just his nature” (as if it matters!!! See what I mean about the narrative treating Cross’s chip as if it didn’t play the key part in his trajectory? They throw in this line, like we are supposed to take away that it’s simply Crosshair being Crosshair and not like, the results of brainwashing and abandonment), Wrecker blaming Crosshair for not going back to them, all while we as the audience have been shown and told repeatedly how these chips work (and so were the Batch), we ended up with an incredibly confusing situation with lots of mixed signals from the writers. And once Crosshair makes his choice to stay with the Empire in s1 finale, his chip and the confusion it brought to his relationship with his brothers is never brought up again, because the plot simply moves on.

- Cid’s betrayal. After her being a major character for two seasons with a continuous relationship build-up with Omega in particular, she is discarded as soon as her betrayal serves the plot, with all that character development getting thrown out of the window. You can be mad at Cid all you want, but to me it’s incredibly weird and wasteful to end two seasons worth of build up on that note without it having any closure for the characters, especially Omega whose whole theme is trusting people and bringing out the best in them. It’s fine if they decided to make Cid exactly what she appeared on the surface (untrustworthy and self-serving) after playing around with her potentially growing through her fondness of Omega, but then at the very least the betrayal should’ve had an impact on the characters, Omega most of all. Even just one casual line from Omega in s3 about how Cid’s betrayal impacted her emotionally, however minimally, would have solved that problem. And no, CX-2 mentioning how he extracted info on Phee from her off screen absolutely doesn’t count as closure, because I’m talking about emotional closure for the main pov characters as well as the audience. Cid had a presence for two seasons, then as soon as she executed her role as a traitor to further the plot, she was discarded like she was a random extra.

- Emerie’s relationship with Hemlock. We are led to believe that he basically raised her, instilling in her the idea that she had no chance without him and owed her purpose and “safety” to him. You can’t tell me that this didn’t deeply affect her struggle and eventual decision to break away from all that and choose to help the kids, basically betraying Hemlock. I get that the show only had so much screen time and Emerie is a supporting character in season 3 at best, but common, she has more tension with Dr. Scalder than Hemlock while the potential for this rich deep conflict between them is right there.

I can probably list more smaller examples but this is getting long and I don’t want to go on any more tangents, so, finally, the biggest example of lack of closure and tendency of TBB writing to display foreshadowing that leads nowhere:

Tech’s death.

First of all, I’ll die on the hill that it wasn’t denial or delusion that led to such a big portion of the audience to believe that Tech didn’t really die in s2. If we look at the facts:

- there was no body

- it’s the finale of season 2 out of 3, pretty early for one of the main titular characters to get killed off

- the only/last character to allegedly see Tech after his fall is a villainous scientist who is known to experiment on clones specifically

- not a fact but: the whole scene with Hemlock presenting Tech’s goggles to Hunter was incredibly suspicious. In hindsight, I think the whole purpose of it was so that the Batch got Tech’s goggles back in their possession as a memento (and to show how evil Hemlock is to rub it into Hunter’s face like that) but it was executed in a way that read as something much more. It read as if Hemlock was going out of his way to convince us/Hunter of Tech’s death, but with us knowing who Hemlock is, his background in experimenting on clones, everything screams at us to not trust a word he says. Is it really so surprising that so many of the viewers immediately jumped at the conclusion that something more was going on there?

- Hunter’s (lack of) reaction/immediate narrative fall-out. More on that later as I address lack of emotional impact of Tech’s death in s3.

- it’s Star Wars. And there was no body.

So yeah, to me, it is completely justified that so many people read that whole thing as open to speculation at the very least, foreshadowing Tech’s survival at most.

Personally, I was 70% sure Tech was truly dead prior to s3, but not because the text told me so, but because at that point I was used to the show’s writing regularly sending out mixed signals, and a part of me was resigned to Tech’s death becoming another example of the writer’s intent clashing with their accidental empty foreshadowing.

As season 3 aired and the whole CX-2 plot was unfolding alongside continued lack of closure for Tech’s fate, my hope for Tech Lives reveal grew and grew, but in the end my initial doubt was proven right, unfortunately.

Oh, CX-2.. what a mess. You can’t tell me the creators went over all of these scenes, all of these lines, looked at the whole picture and *didn’t* see how it was incredibly easy to interpret CX-2 as potentially being Tech with all these little potential parallels. “Domicile” alone.

If they didn’t want us to entertain the idea that it could be Tech, they could’ve done it differently, but for some reason, they chose to leave that space for speculation. My question is, why?

If they truly wanted us to believe Plan 99 was it, Tech’s Noble End that we were supposed to take as this dramatic super emotional ultimate sacrifice and all that, then why would they not make it clear that CX-2 couldn’t be Tech? Why breed confusion? And breed confusion they did. It’s hard for me to believe they didn’t foresee the “ohh is it Tech?” speculation.

When so many members of the audience immediately and individually jump at a theory or have the same take away from the story they are being told, yet the authors say it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, something went seriously wrong with the writing.

I don’t like to speculate on such things because we will probably never know for certain, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they had at some point considered CX-2 being Tech or at least something more for the whole CX plot thread, but changed and reshuffled things at the last minute for whatever reasons.

Which is fine and understandable. But it brings me to the heart of my biggest issue with how Tech’s fate was handled:

lack of impact and closure.

Let’s disregard all the Tech Lives theories for a moment and focus on what we did get: Tech, one of the main characters, getting killed off at the end of s2 out of 3, for stakes and consequences and NOTHING else. When I say nothing, I mean nothing.

Imagine, for a moment, he survived and stayed with the Batch. Nothing would have changed, in the grand scheme of things. Nothing. We wouldn’t have had a few obligatory “Tech mention, everyone feel sad now” throwaway lines/goggle shots and whatnot, sure, but that’s it.

Tech dying didn’t change the trajectory of the plot in any way, nor did it affect any of the other characters in a way that changed their trajectory. And anything less is simply not enough to justify killing one of your main characters. Stakes and consequences ain’t it.

Consider Mayday, for example: a supporting character, but his death in s2 affected Crosshair in such a way it completely redirected his journey, AND in s3 we got an episode that cemented the impact Mayday had on Crosshair and provided emotional closure for them. That’s a narratively meaningful death.

Tech’s death was not meaningful to the narrative beyond removing him from it. That’s why so many Tech fans insist he deserved better treatment: not only was he not present in one third of the show physically, but he lacked any sort of presence even in death. His absence was never processed or grieved by any of the main characters and so by extension by the audience.

And before anyone starts with the whole ‘they are soldiers/they had no time to grieve/etc’ arguments, it is the responsibility of the writers to provide the space for all of that emotional impact. It they don’t, there is no impact.

A few reactions here and there, moments of missing Tech as a person and a brother, not an asset, anything would have made this whole thing easier to accept.

The lines that we did get, from Omega mentioning the stuff Tech taught her to Echo commenting on how decryption would be easier if Tech was with them to “Clone Force 99 died with Tech” from Crosshair - each and every single one of those lines linked to Tech’s functions as part of the squad, his usefulness, but we didn’t get a single line in remembrance of him as a person of his own, no one missed or remembered him for himself or his personal impact on them.

Just one line from Omega about how he taught her about change being a constant part of life or whatever, or Wrecker making a comment on how Tech used to info dump about stuff, anything would have instantly provided that much needed sense of “he was here, he was a person and is still a part of us”. Instead, Tech was killed off to show that messing with the Empire is dangerous and risks are real, I guess, and immediately lost any and all presence within the story.

We never even got to see Crosshair’s or Phee’s reactions to losing him.

Speaking of Crosshair, that’s a whole other example of complete lack of closure: they never closed the loop on the family being reunited again after initially leaving Crosshair behind, and with Tech dead, it’ll forever stay broken.

They could’ve given this a bittersweet yet meaningful spin if they developed the angle of Tech dying on a mission to bring Crosshair home, making a sacrifice so Crosshair had a chance.

Instead, the moment Tech dies, we get Hunter (and through him, the narrative) immediately abandon the idea/plot thread of going to rescue Cross all while saying “let’s not waste Tech’s sacrifice”. Sacrifice for what? Clearly Hunter doesn’t see it as a sacrifice for Crosshair’s sake, so, what, to make sure the rest of them makes it from the mission? The mission to save Crosshair. That mission. Right.

I see people talking about Tech’s noble sacrifice that ensured his family got to live and eventually have their happy ending, but all I can think about is how the creators chose to have him die on a mission that was immediately abandoned and the only take away from that whole sub plot was Tech’s own demise.

And after Crosshair is back with the Batch, his reaction to Tech’s death is never explored at all.

So yes, to me Tech deserved so much better. If you are going to kill off a major character, it must be necessary to be compelling. The way I see it, Tech’s death was not necessary at all because it didn’t change anything. And if it was meant to, the creators failed to communicate that by choosing not to explore the emotional impact of it and not structuring certain story beats in a more precise manner.

To wrap this up, if the way Tech’s death was handled was satisfying for you, that’s valid and I’m glad for you. For me, unfortunately, it’s completely the opposite and will forever remain the biggest and most unfortunate low point in the story.

And while I welcome anyone to share their own perspective if they wish, please don’t take this post as an invitation for debate, since there is no one right or wrong way to interpret or be affected by art.

#tbb analysis #the bad batch #And I ask you to please not use this post as an excuse to hate on the show I love in spite of all the issues described above #you can make your own post to express your dislike of the show #especially for reasons not covered in this post #personally I consider TBB to have some of the deepest and most meaningful moments in all of Star Wars #at its best it is a masterpiece #the character writing is stellar and the subtlety of expression of certain moments is chefs kiss #it’s the story writing I have problems with #tech

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mysweetobsessions · 1 month ago

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Let me tell you the small details that absolutely floored me in The Penguin, season 1, episode 4 before the next one comes out.

Spoilers ahead.

Sofia’s hand gestures. Before Arkham, Sofia’s gestures are so femenine and scream spoiled rich girl, they even feel performative at times, except when she’s smoking - a habit she keeps after Arkham. Afterwards, polar opposites. Need I mention the eating? Eating and beyond, after Arkham her hands are no longer playing the part of her previous life which is why they feel more free while also more intentional. (Where’s her acting nomination?)

From normal uncontrolled behavior to unhinged controlled behavior. Let me explain. Before Arkham, Sofía can barely hold her emotions in. She loses her temper talking to the reporter both times and she’s on the verge of crying when talking to her dad. It’s all very normal how much she can’t control her emotions. After Arkham, she’s much more controlled. Her actions are more deliberate and thought out despite the fact that they are absolutely mad (honestly, justifiably so). - she only loses it (so far) when she’s confronting Oz over her brother’s murder, but after what we know, it’s hard to blame her.

Family is so important. Until we all betray each other to protect a horrific man. The references from previous episodes now make absolute sense, like why she hated the name “hangman”. Her mention of “young girls not doing so well in the family” (something like this). The mention of not letting men control her. How much she can’t stand her family and the visible urge to kill them every time they spoke to her. Why she loved her brother so much. And the list goes on.

From Oz to Penguin. In a couple short scenes, they showed us how Oz always felt belittled and his ego hurt (when Sofía asks him what’s he doing *inside* the party, because he doesn’t belong there really). How she tells him he’s “just a driver”. We didn’t need to see this a million scenes to get that small things like these were some stones (of many) that created The Penguin character. I’m sure more is coming in this regard.

Clinically sane? It is an impossible situation to try to convince people you are sane when you’ve been deemed clinically insane. Yet what behavior is sane when you are framed and put in a deplorable place like Arkham? What do you do when the truth is more complicated and sounds less plausible than the lie? Our minds are made to accept what sounds simpler and makes a more coherent story. Proving her competence becomes an impossible task, especially when she is slowly actually losing her mind from the conditions that would make anyone unhinged. I felt her frustration. (I could not personally figure out how I’d manage this if it were real. Anyone got ideas? Share ‘em with me.)

Arkham “rehabilitation”. I know it’s an asylum but it’s also a prison. We been knew that these places probably make more criminals than they “rehabilitate” but damn if that entering sequence wasn’t as dehumanizing as intended. The corruption inside it to top it all off… Even just the noises and screams that would drive anyone mad. (A point for abolishing the prison system here).

Trust is a bitch. Sofía’s downfall is her ability to trust, that’s how I see it. She wants to trust the people around her despite what she’s been through. This shows that a side of her is desperate to find someone to either give her the trust she seeks or to prove her wrong that people can’t be trustworthy. From another angle, this could be seen as her reliving her trauma, by trusting people (or the penguin) over and over as if to try and change the end result (the betrayal). Either way, it kills me.

I’m sure there are other things many people loved but this episode was absolutely fantastic and these are my favorite things about it.

#cristin milioti #the hangman #the penguin #sofia falcone #the penguin spoilers #the penguin 1.04 #the penguin 1x04

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getfuckedblr · 5 months ago

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fic: blackpool by TheDivineComedian

ok so like i tried a bradel bind on accident. i was trying to use laminated paper to make a case and couldn’t get the spine right so i just slashed right through the middle after glueing the paper to the boards, so this isn’t the most stable connection from the spine to the boards :( but i think it’s a pretty good first attempt:)))

and then omg my sister is home on break🥺💓 and she’s a production major so she can like take real photos!! which is what ur seeing here LMAO bc i have many talents, but photography is sadly not one of them:(

and i am also trying out a new printer so there’s a fuck ton of misprints as the background.

so yeah! this fic is such a creepy crawly little ghost story that has absolutely no right being so emotionally devastating! i don’t normally take tiktok recs but this creator convinced me like 3 years ago, and it’s been sitting in my fic drive for like a year just waiting for me to finish it. and finish it i have!!!

bound in laminated paper, with gold htv words. the spine is bookcloth (i also don’t think the spine color looks great with my covers but not mad enough to trash it either). no bookmark on this one bc i got lazy😔

if i had set out to do a bradel bind instead of accidentally stumbling into it, i would have glued the spine to the covers, then folded the cover over the connection. but alas, i will keep it in mind for next time instead:)

(((i’m so sorry my sister took marvelous photos but also completely disregarded the things i asked her to shoot lmao. love her but she missed all of the htv details so plz check out my shittier photos below for those deets🥲)))

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skyepixels · 1 year ago

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The Welcome Home Website!!!!! She is Beautiful~! And She Leaves Us With So Many Questions!

First off, I am absolutely astonished at how beautiful she is!!! Clown, Puzz, and everyone else has worked so hard and they've exceeded everyone's expectations with the site!!! What a wonderful little Home they've made, and I'm excited to experience it as a fan!!!

I know that everyone's combing through the new website update with a fine toothed comb so I won't be sharing anything we've already found. I don't think I've found anything new in the site that others haven't already found, but oh boy!!!! Does everything there only raise more questions!

What I do love is how all the audio files we've been given through the "bugs" has really shown what everyone's personality is like! I love every one of them, and the voice actors captured them perfectly! Oh and the little tidbits of history with the merchandise, the telephone calls, the little skits! Be still my beating heart~!!!

AND THE WALLY LIVE INTERVIEW. I CANT! It's sooo darn cute!! And Nick Nocturne (I know it's him, that interdimentional cat demon) as the interviewer was such a lovely touch! I cannot wait to hear about that from his YT channel!!! And Wally was so coy with the romance question~ and I think that's the perfect way to answer it for everyone who loves him! Keep it vague, let everyone make their own conclusions and be happy! (I know I certainly will for the time being, and will love him no matter what!) I am so curious about the underlying story here: there's so much to think about it's driving me crazy! They gave so much and answered so little! We can only theorize from here! So here's my little thoughts! None of it's cohesive in any way, nor does it really have all the details or tell full story yet, so just take it in sections if you decide to read it! ______

!~OBSERVATION TIME~!

I think that Wally, Home (And maybe everyone else, not sure) are trapped somewhere. Where exactly isn't certain, but very trapped indeed. My first indication of this from this response in the guestbook for Tayla (Page 8):

"eu não sei onde estamos" - I don't know where we are (A bonus for the multi-lingual side of things there, it makes me really happy to see it!)

I have no concept of what happened to everyone else, but from the little drawings he's made on the guestbook, he's constantly telling people things like "Oh, I'll tell Eddie." or "I'll tell Frank." these messages, but we never get a direct response from any other neighbor! It's always him talking! Just him. He tells people their responses, but we never hear anything direct from the other neighbors! The quick reference I can bring up is the hearts PNG in the guestbook for Kazoo:

itoldhim_hesaidhesflattered_idontknowwhatanyoneistalkingabout_.png I feel like those collections of audio clips with all the neighbors (1-14 to 14-14) are a recount of events throughout an entire day that previously happened that may give insight into what happened to Wally. I think this is the case based on the last audio in the list, 14-14 bh audio, when Barnaby notices Wally acting strange:

BARNABY: Yeah, yeah, real funny! A poor little guy like me deserves some sympathy! A clown without a kazoo is like… Like an artist without his paintbrush! Go on kid, tell ‘em! …Hello? Buddy? Pal? …Hey, you stopped paintin’. Everything alright, Wally?

Well, something happened there. Maybe a change in his psyche, how he perceives things - some strange realization that terrified him. Maybe he got angry at something. What it was? I have no clue.

Another addition that I think is interesting! Frank wrote to Wally describing the unusual bug he found. In the beginning of that letter, Frank says this:

"I know you would ask if you are here." Where is he?

The nature of how Wally and everyone communicates is so vague and weird! I think the telephones, the mail, the TVs - all these things are means of communicating, but there's no direct connection to us! Any time a phone call is made, they can't hear us. This I have inferred from the "It's for you!" Talking telephone toy! They can talk to us and we can hear them, but they can't hear us! What's causing this disturbance? That's the real bug here, and I'm clueless on what that means or how to break through the surface!

Most importantly! I think that Wally specifically trying to communicate with that one person on the WHRP team. That person... is experiencing a lot of heavy sh*t, because I think they remember Wally and the show. They're the closest person right now that's able to help him (either willingly or not!)

I also believe he's specifically working with that WHRP member because in the phone audio (the one you click on when interacting with the toy telephone on the merchandise page), he says:

"You have to go too. You have work to do."

From what I can interpret from the live interview, I think that it implies some semblance of back story! Wally did interact with people and the outside world during his prime in the 70s, when the show was really starting to pick up speed. He was calmer, more in tune with his character and fame. He was in character most of all, and I think being in character was a sense of identity for him that he could rely on!

But those secret audio files we hear from him now? He sounds desperate, like he can't breathe. He's practically breaking from his usual character. What did he realize? What does he know? All of those things boil down to this sentence:

"I will help you understand. I will find a way soon, Neighbor."

Wally (and Home?) are working away at a solution wherever they can I think that WHRP member is the key to that! (Although the methods of how they're doing it, i.e the black paint that apparently you shouldn't touch with bare hands, the mind-boggling phone ringing in that person's ears, the complete distortion of reality - definetely implies a few things.)

I also think that the highlighted in invisible ink is Wally's words throughout the email compilations and other documents! The one where he says "Im so sorry." - I feel like that's him showing some remorse for his actions there, but it's like a sorry that says "I'm sorry, I have to do this." kind of deal (which is... oof)

Also - quick note! Wally keep insisting on being let in, rather than being let out. "Let me in." - Let you in to where? Our world? Reality? Oh so many questions!!!

I also am curious about the WHRP staff too, and their interactions with the Question-Answerer, the Marlo company, the Playfellow Workshop! There's two sides to this story; the human side and the puppet one, and it's so multilayered here that at this point, I'm inclined to distrust what anyone on that website says until we know what's going on!

Lastly, I'm not certain how much we as viewers of this story are involved. While I believe that he's working to get that WHRP member to let him in, he does acknowledge us through the guestbook. Although, I don't think truly aware of how much we see him. i.e "idontknowwhatanyoneistalkingabout" line from the heart PNG.

While I want to believe that Wally can see us through our art, specifically when we draw or recreate his eyes, for engagement's sake (audio from this link), I also am inclined to believe he's refering to the eyes that the WHRP team member keeps drawing on those sticky notes and other places throughout the restoration site:

And and and!!! I think that there's got to be something upcoming with this link: https://www.clownillustration.com/error404

You find this link on the staff-only page at the bottom with the text "It's in here." And I think that with any future updates, the next section of the story will be coming from here.

AHH~! I rambled on too long! Hope you enjoyed it!

#welcome home #wally darling #welcome home arg #welcome home fandom #welcome home wally #skyepixels #welcome home theory #welcome home update #frank frankly #julie joyful #eddie dear #poppy partridge #howdy pillar #barnaby beagle

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pippin-katz · 1 year ago

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just letting you know this ask will contain sensitive issues regarding Jewish identity and negative criticism that I’ve seen about rwrb. So I understand if you don’t want to answer at all - but I just wanted to see what your thoughts were about this (as I haven’t read the book but absolutely adore the movie) - if you want to make a separate post or something.

I saw a post on my “for you” feed (can’t find it anymore) that apparently Matthew’s decision to conflate and change Nora and June’s characters is antisemitic and bi-erasure? I only skimmed through it because it was very accusatory and the comments were also very negative.

I can understand being upset about losing some characters and the criticism about Nora’s bi-identity. I can’t really speak about the antisemitism as I’m not fully aware of that aspect from the book. But I was thinking - if they did make Nora bi and she still ended up being with Percy/Pez, would those critics be happy? Or would they still be mad because June wasn’t there for the polyamorous relationship that was hinted in the books?

They’re mad about Richards, Rafael Luna, Liam, divorce-free Claremont-Diaz household, no Queen Mary, no Princess Catherine, no this, no that. And they said it’s not a true rom-com because it doesn’t flesh out the romance between Alex and Henry? I just don’t understand what it takes for them to be satisfied. Casey said themself that if everything was done 100% from the books, fans still wouldn’t be happy with it. I mostly ignore the loud ones who hate the movie with all their being but when it comes up it’s so jarring. I don’t want the hype of this movie to lose out to the noise of the haters and bashers. This movie, and Alex and Henry’s love story has become so important to many people and we want more!

Funny you should bring that up to me of all people, seeing as I happen to be Jewish!

I think I may have seen posts like that in the past and immediately blocked the poster because I knew that if I wrote a response to them it would spiral out of control, and there were too many people in the replies to try and explain this to.

Post Writing Note: Buckle up for this one cause I definitely went on a tangent about Jewish culture, but I felt like it would help people understand, or at least be interesting.

The short version of this is that they are self centered idiots who have their heads up their ass.

Casey is 100% correct that even if they were completely true to the book, they wouldn’t be satisfied. They will always find something to complain about.

They also simply don’t want to like it, or understand it. All of those major changes were made for a reason, and make complete sense/were the right call for what Matthew was trying to accomplish with the film. But they don’t want to hear or accept that.

As for Nora and June, once again, they are being idiots.

Matthew has explained several times that the decision to cut June was a logical director’s decision.

With the limited time the film has, side characters simply can’t have as much detail or development as they have in the book. In the case of June and Nora, he explained that he essentially would’ve been giving half of a character to the two actresses. They would’ve been fighting for screen time, and would’ve felt unsatisfied with the roles. Therefore, he essentially combined the two into one full character to give to a single actress. It makes complete sense, and was the right choice.

Did that remove the polycule dynamic? Yes, but that was a side effect of the decision, not part of the reason. Matthew does not seem like the kind of person to remove something like that for no reason, or purely because it might "make the straights uncomfortable". It was just the way things happened.

Now, let me address Nora.

The thing that drives me a bit crazy about this is their determination to call her intentional erasure.

Just because those traits weren’t brought up in the film does not make them untrue. There is no reason to assume that she isn’t bisexual or Jewish just because they didn’t bring it up. They did not say anything that counters those details, therefore I don’t see them as being changed.

They are also exaggerating a lot.

Now, I’m saying all this as a Jewish person who would love to see more representation of Judaism casually included in characters.

Nora’s Jewish identity is completely irrelevant to the plot and is only mentioned in the book. When Alex wants to call someone on Christmas after his parents fight, he briefly says that she’s busy celebrating Chanukah. That is the only moment in the entire book that Nora being Jewish is brought up, as far as I can remember from the last time I went through to look for it, when I first saw a post about this. I checked again while writing this. Other book readers can correct me if I’m wrong about that, but I know for a fact that it is not something that’s regularly mentioned or relevant to the plot.

Again, I say this as a Jewish person with love, it was not important. I’ve said it before, and I’ll keep saying it until I fucking die: the book had no time limit.

The novel is not a massive one, but it is absolutely stuffed cover-to-cover with content. It’s a book told through Alex’s point of view, giving direct access into his thoughts and feelings through text.

When Alex offhandedly mentions in his head facts like that, the translation to the screen would be constructing a situation where bringing that up out loud is relevant. The other option is to put clues in the environment to indicate it.

The thing about those options though is that Nora does not have any scenes during the holiday portion of the movie. In fact, there is not even a mention of Christmas at all; the only reason we know is because of the decorations around the White House, but no one mentions it. There is only one scene that even takes place around Christmas in the film: Alex’s conversation with Zahra. From there, it’s straight to New Year’s.

Some may be thinking, “But those are so close together, it would still be relevant!” and I hate to tell you that you’re wrong, but there’s an 85% chance you’re wrong.

Chanukah shifts dates from year to year because it’s determined by the Jewish calendar, and that doesn’t match the normal calendar. As someone grew up celebrating it, and still does celebrate it, I can tell you from personal knowledge that most of the time, it happens before Christmas. Yes, sometimes it overlaps with it, or happens afterwards, but I can safely tell you that most of the time, it happens before; for example, this year Chanukah starts Dec. 8th and ends at sunset Dec. 15th. It starts and ends a whole week before Christmas.

Now, I have to also say, and I say this with as much love and respect as I can for all the normal Christians/Catholics out there, we don’t really… shove our holiday in everyone’s faces?

I know that sounds rude, and it might be, but I mean that everyone knows when Christmas is. Everything closes down for Christmas. Whether you celebrate it or not, you’re most likely going to be off-work or off-school for it. No one looks around and goes, “what day is Christmas again?” And most people know the basic gist of why it’s celebrated.

I’m pretty sure that at minimum 65% of the people who read this had no idea when Chanukah was, and have zero clue why it’s celebrated.

That’s not really their fault, it’s just a simple truth about Western society (especially American) that people don’t get educated on Judaism, even indirectly the way they do for Christmas. The same can be said for all of the religious minorities. I’m by no means innocent of being uninformed on the basics of other minority religions. I’m just bringing it up because it’s somewhat relevant.

When it’s Christmas, you know it’s Christmas. Everyone is talking about it and there’s decorations everywhere. And while there’s sometimes a few decorations for Chanukah and maybe Kwanzaa, it’s not common; especially given the unfortunate reality that said decorations are a beacon for hate crimes.

Circling back to Nora, the easiest way to provide indications that she is Jewish is through decorations in her office/apparel choices. I just explained why she would be unlikely to have decorations in her office for Chanukah, but what about non-holiday specific decor?

Well, in my experience as a reformed Jewish person, there's not a lot of decor that's not very obvious or specifically religious in its representation. I say "specifically religious" because Judaism is a culture as well as a religion. I'm a Jewish person, but I don't regularly attend Temple or practice daily prayer. My experience with Judaism stems more from how we celebrate the major holidays, the kinds of food we eat, clothing we wear, and stuff like that, not passages of the Torah.

We also just don't really have as much physical decoration options as Christians/Catholics, at least for Jews who are not devoutly religious.

Judaism is practices aniconism.

Don't be alarmed, most people don't know what that word means; I only know because I learned about it briefly in an art history course a few years ago. Aniconism is the absence of artistic representations of certain figures in religions. Judaism is generally "anti-iconic", meaning it's strongly discouraged to create imagery, specifically human imagery, of God or other saint-like figures from the Torah. It's not completely unheard of, but think about how frequently you see imagery of Jesus in Christianity/Catholicism, or all the famous imagery of God, and depictions of scenes of the Bible and the saints, etc. etc. etc. Jews just don't do that, at least not nearly to the extent or as commonly as Christians/Catholics.

Jews instead have focused artistry into the form of ceremonial objects, i.e. the menorah, Kiddush goblets, etc.

In fact, my Jewish heritage comes from my father's side, so my grandfather on that side has always been a practicing Jew, and my grandmother converted back when they married. They're not super religious, but more so than my parents and how I was raised.

Thinking back to their home, I'm realizing that all of their Jewish "decor" was fine dishware sort of like this they kept in a China cabinet, like this:

Nora's not going to keep fine China in her office.

The only piece of "decor" that I have in my parents' home is not even really decor. This is a super common thing to find in Jewish households. It's call a mezuzah:

It's a little container that keeps a scroll with two prayers from the Torah written in Hebrew by a calligraphist. They are a symbol of connection and protection amongst the Jewish community. They are an ancient tradition. Nora would definitely have one.

However, these go on the doorframes of the entrance to a home. They're not hung up anywhere to look nice. She wouldn't have one on her office doorway, which is glass anyway.

So I've eliminated physical decorations, so how about jewelry?

This is where I'm sure a bunch of those people will shake their fists at me. The easiest and simplest way to imply a Jewish character (especially a female one) is the same as a Christian/Catholic character: a necklace.

Obviously, it is common practice for crosses to be worn on necklaces. Wearing the Star of David on a necklace is also common, but not nearly as common as the cross. I've noticed over the course of my life an increase in seeing them, but they're still uncommon.

And incredibly recently, I actively chose to stop wearing mine because we are at a point of actual danger in the US right now, specifically Florida, where I happen to be so lucky to live.

Regardless, it's debatable on how likely it would be for Nora to be wearing one. I feel like it's pretty split on how much of the Jewish population does and doesn't. So let's take a look at her style then:

The only outfit I couldn't find a clear still image of was the one in the jeep, but there are GIFs of that:

Note: I swear, if this fandom doesn't start posting more content of the side characters, I'm going to throw something; y'all are making it very hard to write my essays!! 😂

Out of her seven outfits, she is only wearing a neck accessory in ONE. More notably, she's not wearing a necklace in either of her formal outfits: the wedding and the party dresses. If she were going to wear a necklace, a fancier outfit usually makes it more likely. She seems to like wearing earrings more. Earrings with the Star of David exist, but I've personally never seen someone wearing them.

So based on everything I've been talking about, and Nora's personality, and her characterization in the book, and everything else, it's probably unlikely that she would wear a religious necklace, if not because she's not heavily religious, then because she just doesn't wear necklaces.

Could you ignore all that and complain that they could've given her a necklace or something anyway? Yeah, you could, but you are just being annoying and overreacting. She's still a Jewish character. People who haven't read the book may not know that, but tons of people who have read the book didn't even remember that. It's not an intentional decision made to erase her Jewish heritage. It is purely a side effect of having very limited time to cover way too much content.

The same can be said for her being bisexual. There's no reason to assume she's not. Hell, we've been joking about the face she makes when she meets Bea since we saw it:

This look alone is enough to make non-book readers go, "oh ship! ship! ship!". She's not straight just because they don't address her sexuality. Again, it was not an intentional decision made to erase her bisexuality.

Look, I'm not saying you have to like it, but for the love of god, stop acting like Matthew is the devil incarnate who made every change and cut out of spite, and to hurt you specifically.

As for the comment about not fleshing out Alex and Henry's relationship? I... I have no fucking words. That's a lie, I have so many fucking words, but I've been writing this for too long, so I'll speed run this:

First of all, if you don't think the romance between Alex and Henry is "fleshed out" in the film, I cannot say anything else than you are a fucking idiot. I don't like rom-coms, but this one is so fucking genuine, emotional, and sweet that even my cold dark soul feels warmth while watching it.

Second of all, how the fuck are you going to make the claim that they didn't flesh out Alex and Henry's romance, while simultaneously bitching about 3+ hours of book content that didn't make it? Do you not have any logical reasoning skills or common sense, at all??

I WILL SAY IT AGAIN: THE BOOK HAD NO TIME LIMIT. THE MOVIE DID.

Alright, that's enough of all that; I have an essay that I wrote the day after the movie originally dropped that went more in detail about that last one, so I'm not going to get super into that here. That's the short version of that, and if you want to hear the long version, go read this.

I hope that cleared some stuff up for you Anon! Sorry for the rambling lmfao

Thanks for reading!! If you enjoyed this essay & would like to support me, you can give me a tip on my Ko-Fi! ☺️

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrb movie #rwrb book #rwrb thoughts #nora holleran #rachel hilson #matthew lópez #katz questions

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moonshynecybin · 9 months ago

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top taylor swift songs that were actually written about rosquez?

they are many they are myriad they are legion.... no order and non exhaustive ofc

wouldve couldve shouldve. ouegh ough aough aoueg. ouregh. and i damn sure never would've danced with the devil. at nineteen. and the god's honest truth is that the pain was heaven. i mean JESUS CHRIST dude. songs that make me want 20 mins alone in a room with valentino rossi and a baseball bat.

all to well ten min. i think the longer version is inferior generally but adding the lens of a slightly fucked up age gap pushes this up the list. so many insane rosquez details in this one. i was thinkin on the drive down hes gonna say its love you never called it what it was. (hello.) the idea you had of me, who was she? a never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you. (HELLO?) charmed my dad with self effacing jokes like youre on a late night show. (HELLO!!!) my friend valentino did that to my buddy marc. i was there i SAW IT. my friend @repsol-ariel made gifs.

i bet you think about me. jussssst the right amount of insufferable for them in the bitter post divorce chaos of it all... truly like. vale you fucked UP dude. i think this plays in marc's head for every championship he wins 2016-2019. when you realized im harder to forget than i was to leave. crazy. bananas. fun to think about if youre nasty... i also love indulging the side of marc that is kind of fucking mad at vale lol. my cuntress... this is why we cant have nice things also fits in this category. its the fun parts of divorce: like spite!

forever and always. you ever think about 2015 and how crazy marc probably felt when he realized his whatsapp thread with valentino post ranch visit was all messages from HIM. like truly before that season he said vale is my friend all is good between us :) then in midseason he says its a different relationship not quite a friend one just absolutely white knuckling it. and all this happened with little public indication of off-track conflict. WHAT HAPPENED. anyways did i say something way too honest that made you run and hide? like a scared little boy??

story of us. a fixture of my imaginings. but you held your pride like you shouldve held me. how did tswift know. what did she see. was there a psychic on her staff. did she perhaps have a prophetic dream of some sort.

haunted. YOU AND EYE WALK A FRAGILE LINE I HAVE KNOWN IT ALL THIS TIME.... CMON CMON DONT LEAVE ME LIKE THISSSSSS i thought I had you figured out... something's gone terribly wrong.... you're all I wanted.... hello. is this thing on. like truly maybe the most rosquez of my rosquez songs. this one is THEMMMM to me. its dramatic its tense its yearning its a little PISSED OFF.

back to december. RECONCILIATION ANTHEM. your tanned skin your sweet smile so good to me so right.... GOD. truly like before they reconcile but after vale has turned the corner. wistful regretfulness!! pride swallowing by someone not used to it!!!

cowboy like me: twin flames!!!! FUKC!!!! IM NEVER GONNA LOVE AGAIN!

#motogp #callie speaks #asks #rosquez #taylor swift #there are so many others. so many

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dingoat · 7 months ago

Text

Tagged by @teacakes1799 thankyoouuu for tagging! :D

3 ships

Ahuska and Thirteen, if it isn't obvious, occupies 95% of my brain at the moment, even if they're more of a 'two idiots discovering responsibility shirking soulmates in one another' kind of ship who are pushing every possible boundary before facing the inevitable fact that their lives are on opposite sides of Imperial design in a very very incompatible way, I love it and I can't stand it. Stop it. They weren't designed to have chemistry with one another by daaaammmn if it's not going to be the death of me

Ahuska and EVERYONE ELSE that she has a (romantic) relationship or friendship or rivalry with I am so very into all of them, special shout outs to Crow (of course, OG storyline one true love and the ship that got me out of the biggest creative funk of my life), to her little Blakk fox who has been the driving force behind sooo much incredible storytime, and to Fynta who I definitely imagine as one of those souls she keeps bumping into in every universe, for better or for worse.

Special shout-out to Jak (mine) and Wylluf (NPC turned PC written by my husband) for THE best slowly built tabletop character relationship I've ever had the joy of experiencing.

First Ship

All my little novice early RP days many many years ago were in the Lion King fandom because, duh, animals are the best and animal stories are what I grew up on- thing is, I was always very much more into the animals-being-animals, natural history, group dynamics, melodrama made out of natural disasters and territory disputes etc, than into actual romantic plots a la Simba and Nala or Todd and Vixey etc etc. The first actual -couple- I can think of where I really got into the personal relationship side of things was with a pair of painted dogs I wrote with one of my oldest ever RP buddies. Mine was the bad boy who got exiled from the pack (I think he killed another dog? For good reason but nobody believed him?) and hers was the sweet girl who... followed him? Ran into him years later? My gosh, I barely remember a detail of the actual story but I remember that period of writing VERY VERY fondly.

Last Song

Spotify tells me it's Ed Sheeran's Celestial. Stupid pokemon song getting me all emotional every time, how dare. Stupid song that's all too easy to daydream about OCs with, how dare.

Currently Reading

I've promised to loan my copy of 'The Little Prince' to somebody but I've realised I absolutely must re-read it before I do, it's one of those books that I am convinced every person needs to read at least once. So I'm partway into that, but it won't take me long. I have quite a stack of books that I'm eager to get into and no idea what I'm going to pick next. (Teacakes, you've made me remember how badly I want to re-acquaint myself with Tamora Pierce, I adored the Wild Magic books when I was in school!)

Last Film

At the cinema? The Fall Guy. Wonderful. So much fun. I'd see it again. Actual last film watched (streaming at home) - X-Men Origins: Wolverine. Aaahahahaha knowing what I know about the universe now vs when that movie first came out, I can now 100% see why so many of my friends were so mad about it

Currently Craving

Lychees. Man what I'd give for a giant bowl of fresh lychees right at this moment.

Non obligational tags go to: @askshivanulegacy @saph-y @queen-scribbles @keldae @mimabeann @tearlessrain

#tag game

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ikigaisvt · 1 year ago

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okay j. let's talk.

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?!!???? HELLO??!????

first of all. first of all. i love the 70s vibe. like. even tho you didn't explicitly set it in the story, there are so many little details that makes it feel so 70s like (the cinema, the remembering phone numbers, the car drive (idk why?), the mixtapes.) you set your story so well in time and it was just. chief's kiss.

im not gonna lie, im kinda very much of a sucker for simpy chan. like. he gets everyone simping on him especially mc so maybe it's not that bad that he is the one to ask for forgiveness and act like a puppy. even though thinking about teary eyed chan looking up at your window makes me cry a little bit.

once again, im flabbergasted at the way you write. you have a way with words, a way to make it flow beautifully and simply and a way to make your characters feel real. like this was just a story a relative told you and you decided to share it here. (you know what i mean, right?)

im absolutely in love with them and the way they love each other, how chan was ready to do anything to get mc back like,, when will it be my turn? miscommunication will forever be one of my fav trope oh my god. and that moment when chan says that, there is, in fact, someone else but instead of saying the truth out loud directly he just holds mc's hand like. ouch. that fucking hurt. i dont know how you do it but i could sense the love he carries for mc through the fucking screen and im so mad because they are not real.

talking about the smut part is embarrassing IM SORRY but just. that was hot. but at the same time it was like they were making love and like. yeah. when will it be my turn? pt.2 i want him.

anyway as you can see im in love with the way you write and you, once again, did so well like wtf babe. also this chan is gonna be stuck in my mind for a While. ANYWAY BYE ILY <3

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC. notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away. notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago.

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room.

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right.

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones.

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’.

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone.

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name.

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry).

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen.

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts.

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour.

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed?

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him.

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense.

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know.

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans?

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can.

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty.

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it.

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away.

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your childhood home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced.

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there.

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since.

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie.

There is one more.

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly.

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most.

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it.

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits.

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask.

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through.

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake.

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so.

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage.

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest.

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning.

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on.

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth.

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle.

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough.

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe.

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.”

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—” He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go.

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him.

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.”

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different.

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms.

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice.

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants.

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured.

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use.

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again.

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans.

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle.

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat.

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can��t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like.

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base.

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him.

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming.

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess.

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop.

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name.

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to.

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.”

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own.

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself.

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle.

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache.

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum.

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas.

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

#ALSO ALSO ALSO #this is kinda unserious so.#putting it in the tags hi <3 #i feel like you put wait (the song yk) into a story like 😭#everybody's saying wait is like 'please i love you' and then *fucks you*#and like IF THAT ISNT YOUR FIC 😭😭#but i mean. fits so well with the song so thats good #sammy's recs!#j<3

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writer59january13 · 5 months ago

Text

Though no political pundit, nevertheless...

I trumpet the withdrawal

of democratic contender from out the presidential race.

Breaking headline news story

courtesy rumor monger premieres

showcasing emphatic groundswell against feeble minded incumbent. Extraordinary turn of current events immediately enlivens the United States populace injecting much needed lively discussion about gerontocracy deliberating for the electorate. Though ill suited for any storied role in American government yours truly (a sexagenarian) could vouchsafe for entrusting the beleaguered state of the union in the hands of a qualified female or male candidate born within Generation X Born 1965–1980.

Upon growing national groundswell of alarm

agonizing, capitalizing, eulogizing, galvanizing, initializing, jeopardizing, polarizing... voters (née namely citizens) of United States plus capital one, buzzfeeding learned folks linkedin courtesy webbed wide world, an earthshaking crisis emboldens an erstwhile

average joe (biden his time) suddenly

chose to loose his humble opinion

across the Internet to affect

an immediate emergency session

of government officials

to address inexorable lurch

toward absolute zero democracy,

which liaison of Democrats and Republicans

necessitates closed door session

to resolve and allay the shear madness

lurking within the outer limits

of the fast approaching twilight zone

where dark shadows

creep toward utter chaos,

cuz our country tis of thee

teeters on the brink of

the astute heads of state,

and even popular stars

in the limelight beseech, implore, and knead the malleable consciences

of sensible sons and daughters

genealogically linkedin to storied personalities fomenting the American Revolution.

Outright riots promise to spill blood

and sacrifice the lives

of at least one anonymous worthy wordsmith, (who might possibly

be an English Major incarnate) in tandem with militant posses submerging

the land of the free

and home of the brave into anarchy

already terroristic subterfuge

rallies quintessential pronouncement

hinting quacking ducks lined in a row

where progostigation of dystopian future

impossible mission to detail

a scenario one cannot even conjure

from an overactive imagination

such as mine flirtation

with the Brave New World

already reflecting the absence of freedoms. Not much effort required

to hypothesize severe limitations

and even harsh measures

taken against me for merely sharing a what if scenario barely even approximating fallout from writing something

so passé as the following.

Haint no walk in the (Linkin) Park

(like back in the day

during the twenty fourth year

of the twenty first century),

I remember fondly as a sexagenarian -

shooting the breeze

on many a temperate mid summer nights dream,

or later at four after midnight nodding off to sleep

listening to deep sleep music

courtesy scouring youtube then mostly free from the electronic eyes of the government, cuz soon sophisticated spyware - linkedin with augmented/ virtual reality and microchips incorporating sensors record critical nodes' details traversed by each bit, where computer hackers given free license to explore weaknesses within system of the down.

Afterwards rigorously tested apps courtesy

south of the borders penned up (think veritable sweatshop) preschoolers,

or applications put thru their paces

by kindergarteners similarly encaged

laboring with their collective cute button noses

to the grindstone sunup to sundown

exception made for little fingers reprieve come holidays or birthday of product tester prior to software being installed on every machine sold for personal use) - ultimately allowed (rather mandated)

by fiat and enabled a self declared autocrat to obtain covert information about another's computer activities by transmitting data covertly from their hard drive - espying websites visited accumulating treasure trove of data - possibly unwittingly hitting the bullseye when subtly targeting and ingeniously lampooning agent provocateur cleverly communicating hidden messages subsequently courtesy from said wiseacre.

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lisacatara-actress · 2 years ago

Text

Almost Lisa: Pt 11: All, Mostly, but not pursuant to...

*I retain all rights to my photography and story, story details, biographical information, fashion designs, art work, and anything and everything I have posted which is my own creation*)

"Human beings, who are almost unique in having the ability to learn from the experience of others, are also remarkable for their apparent disinclination to do so." ~Douglas Adams

Welcome back, Inquisitive Ones!!! Glad to have you here. This is an excellent time to address the BIG elephant in the room. The one which has those outside of the Entertainment Industry believing that all of us in The Biz are entitled, overpaid, spoiled, vocal Liberals. I understand why onlookers think this is so. Our loudest and most earning Name Talent always have a platform to give their 2c, and seems there’s always someone in the news over something... questionable. But the Names are practically a different industry than the rest of us. They do not represent the 94% of the cast, crew, tradespeople and skilled laborers who create content for the industry. WE do not see millions. Many don't see six figures. Journeymen actors, dancers, voice talent, stunt performers, etc, generally do not work every day of the year. There are gaps (often substantial ones) in between gigs, and absolutely no job security. When we do earn a gig or win an audition/ callback, 16-20 hour days are now the norm, and - depending on the market and location of your job- commutes can eke away at turnaround times and sleep/ life.

Over the years, our contracts are becoming whittled away by corporate greed and hedge fund accountability. And at least Sag-Aftra (which is the presiding union over my contacts and their negotiation) is powerless or unwilling to secure our fair "piece” of a growing pie. Each negotiation we seem to be mitigating loses over gains. After pandemic shutdowns in 2020, everyone is scrapping to find employment, working twice as heard for less earnings. And A-list, Oscar award-winning actors are being cast in every commercial and guest star role we used to be considered for. And on top of all of this are technological advancements (such as CGI and AI) which are being implemented in lieu of Human Talent, in every field.

I don’t know how anyone in my industry had the opportunity, time, or the energy to start a family considering our schedules and the extra expenses. For many of us, our benefits are tied to our jobs. The amount of hours/ dollars we work in any quarter could determine whether we and our families remain insured. I am grateful that I've never wanted children. It would be easy to attribute that to my upbringing, but the truth is I have simply never had the desire. It's never occurred to me and never been a priority. I don't get gooey-eyed when I'm around babies, I don't enjoy the idea of the responsibility. I simply don't want children, though I have mad respect for those who do. Especially those living in New York and Los Angeles as the costs of living and working in these markets is staggering.

These days, I find myself driving around different areas in and around Atlanta wondering what the h**l everyone does for their money? Why don't I have more? I'm exceedingly talented and professional. What am I missing? Everyone is buying up homes, renovating them, renting them out and making a profit, then reinvesting those earnings to avoid capital gains taxes. Where did they get the money to start with? It just reeks of privilege I've never had, something I was never taught. And because I lack the understanding, I never really get anywhere trying to figure it all out. Thankfully I had the foresight and discipline following 9/11 to save every penny I could, understanding the uncertainty of my journey. What took decades to save took one global Pandemic to to lose. I’ve been surviving off those savings.

Side note: Things which are more expensive if you’re single and living/working in Hollywood: Groceries (especially if you’re gluten-free, organic and health-savvy like me), rent (I live alone), internet and phone plans, travel, hotel stays, memberships to anything (as I can’t split costs with anyone), gas (I’m always driving), and- of course- taxes. I learned to become incredibly thrifty and savvy in my life, work and home. I do my own nails, hair and makeup, I cut my own hair and have for 30 years, I make my own art and sew my own pillows, drapery and linens too, I shop discount...the list is long. Things I do not have the luxury of buying are assistants, nutritionists, second cars or homes, private club memberships, name brand designer wears... all those things the general public assumes all Hollywood people are privileged with. While avocado toast and almond milk lattes may not break the bank, they are privileges to me. And they are delicious!

The critics are wrong. You must have a strong constitution to succeed in my line of work. It is not for those who don't like/ tolerate long hours, uncertain environments, inclement weather, fighting for their paychecks, lost holidays and weekends, missed events and life moments, risk of their health and safety, the constant, relentless insecurity of work, and endless “rejection”. Sometimes it’s the usual rejection from an audition or interview, sometimes the rejection of your ideas. Lately, rejection also comes in the form of exhausting efforts to create content, only to have it scraped by production/ investors so it never sees an audience. Nothing is certain and you must fight and work past it all. All of this is before you consider the vulnerability of every one of us journeymen who rely on residual income (also known as “royalty pay”) which is contingent on a project airing and succeeding beyond its obligations to investors, the Stars, and their agents. All it takes is one Stars “bad behavior” to scrap a project and effect all of our incomes (we make only so much to begin with).

Social media bots and spammers love to single out those of us “under the line” (as we are called) because they know the general public wont back us up. We aren't famous. And since the public has no idea about us, they assume we are just like the A-listers. But news flash! There’s a good amount of us who don’t want Fame. And - contrary to what the media says- we all want to remain working! Then there’s the political spotlight constantly shone on all of us by those who use the industries "bad eggs” to paint all of us as the same. A way to distract the public from their own indiscretions. But the two industries- more often then not- work side by side. Ours is simply more under a microscope.

The bottom line is: if you don't work in Hollywood, you do not know how Hollywood works. Period.

(To be continued...)

(PS If you like what you're reading, I welcome contributions to the efforts via Venmo @LTarantinoDesigns)

#Hollywood #acting #filmmaking #entertainment #Lisa Catara #greatstories #Celebrities #Fame #Social media #News

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sitp-recs · 2 years ago

Text

light as the sky above by icarusinflight

Harry/Draco (2021, Explicit, 5.6k)

Harry notices Draco leave. Harry’s always had one eye watching Draco, and old habits die hard.

Harry opens up his arms and he opens up his life, and opens up more than that perhaps, but it’s something Harry has never been able to stop himself from doing – it’s a ‘Harry’ thing. ‘You love loud’, Hermione had once told him, ‘your heart dives in as much as the rest of you.’

As much as I’m here for all kinds of pining, soft, oblivious or otherwise, I must admit that my heart always beats faster for Harry’s self-aware, desperate want. There’s this… borderline painful sweetness, I guess? about his aching for Draco that leaves me emotionally compromised every time I stumble upon a gem like this fic.

This story has a distinct bittersweet mood that I absolutely adore - it slowly unravels the nature of Harry and Draco’s casual-but-not-quite affair without so many words, and being inside Harry’s tormented mind feels so vulnerable and intimate I can barely handle it. He loves Draco loud, bold and completely, his feelings so deep and intense it’s impossible not to feel them running through our body, overwhelming as it is. I love the quietness of their interactions, the mystery surrounding Draco’s mind, his reticent behaviour - not to mention the imagery of him playing with a cigarette despite having quit lives rent free in my head!

A classic “porn with feels”, this story takes its sweet time guiding us into a small part of these characters’ hearts before we’re pulled into a scorching, electric, sensual and beautifully intimate smut sequence. There’s this honest abandon about the way Harry drowns in Draco, about the way Draco softly yields to him, about the shared intimacy they both indulge together (with mentions of future fisting!!! My god 🥵). This fic checks so many of my boxes - playful banter, sexy smoking aesthetics (although no real smoking actually happens, and I love that small detail too!), tattooed Draco driving Harry mad with the urge to mark, and the lovely and hopeful ending with open communication, a resolution and a compromise.

Reading this was a beautiful introspective experience that made me fall even more in love with this ship and I’m sure you’ll feel as touched and smitten. Go ahead and enjoy!

Read on AO3

#drarry fic rec #fave

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cosmicjoke · 6 months ago

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So perfectly put, seriously. It just drives me mad, because I've seen this same take from so many different people. People just state like it's irrefutable fact that AoT is "antisemitic", and it's because they've read somewhere or heard from someone this very thing, that Eldian's are meant to be an analogy for Jewish people, and then they start from that assumption, and twist every other detail in the story to fit that assumption, and so every detail in the story then becomes some sort of sinister evidence in their eyes that Isayama was saying that Jewish people are, as you said, capable of turning into literal weapon of mass destruction and destroying the world. It's such a basic bitch take, lol. As you said, it really just boils down to a total lack of reading comprehension and media literacy, with people either being too lazy or too stupid to actually think for themselves and actually apply their own, independent thought and analysis to the media they're consuming. It's so easy to twist the meaning of something into the total opposite of what it was really saying when you get the initial premise itself completely wrong, which is what people like Maki are doing. It takes a work like AoT, which plainly warns against the dangers of, as you said before, absolutism, and also ideological causes and philosophies, as well as things like prejudice, oppression, outsized punishment and generational guilt, and tries to say it's actually promoting the opposite. Like I said before too, it's why people who defend Eren or Floch or characters like that grind my gears beyond my ability to express, because they've so totally missed the mark. I mean, by leaps and bounds, they've missed it, and by doing so, are actually perpetuating the very things AoT tries to warn against.

AoT is a cautionary tale, at its core. It shows what happens when we blame entire groups of people for the actions of a few. It shows what happens when you push people into a corner and leave them no alternative but to lash out in defense of themselves. It shows what happens when you engage in ideological belief systems and start to believe the ends always justify the means. So on and so forth. I mean, AoT isn't about any, one thing. It's themes are varied and the narrative itself is, as you said, multilayered. And that's also reflected in the fact that it pulls from multiple sources for inspiration. It uses a fantastical, larger than life premise to examine real-world issues. Trying to reduce it down to one, basic thing, or trying to claim it's meant to be read as a straight allegory for some real world event or that the characters are meant as a 1 for 1 allegory of a specific group of people, is both idiotic and dangerous. It's how all great works of art (and I do think AoT is a great work of art) get twisted and desecrated and used to promote things they were never intended to promote. It's like the Nazis utilizing Beethoven's 9th symphony to promote the Third Reich. The final movement of Beethoven's 9th symphony promotes the shared brotherhood between all humanity, and yet we see how it was twisted by the Nazis to instead promote the supposed superiority of the Aryan race. Literally twisting it to mean something it was never meant to symbolize, twisting it to represent the exact opposite of what it actually does. That's what people like Maki are doing with AoT when they try to claim this shit about the Eldians being Jewish. No. The Eldians are just Eldians. They're not Jewish. They're not German. They're not anyone in the real world. They exist within the closed narrative of their own universe. We find parallels between them and groups of people in the real world simply because their plight is meant to reflect the plight of all oppressed groups in human history, and it's meant to demonstrate how that sort of thing, how oppression and prejudice and persecution and group puhishment can lead, in the end, to war and mass devastation and death. A story like AoT will never cease to be relevant, because it's a tale as old as time. Like "Fallout's" catchphrase says, "War... War never changes". It's always the same thing, over and over.

Ugh, it just pisses me off so much. "Attack on Titan" deserves a smarter fanbase, lol. Of course, I think the majority of people who are fans of AoT DO get it. It's just the idiots online who seem to not understand jack-shit.

Someone reblogged an ask I got the other day about my feelings on Floch, and I said anyone who defends Floch's actions as "reasonable" didn't understanding the story, and are the reason war keeps happening. And in the tags, this person, who's username was "King-Floch", thought they were being real cute and clever with their sarcasm by saying "Well, I guess I didn't get the story then". I was like, that's right bitch, you didn't, lol.

I love the way people proudly display their own ignorance. It's almost funny, or at least, it would be if it wasn't the root cause for almost every single problem in the world.

https://www.tumblr.com/makiruz/751280466269716480/and-another-thing-aot-isnt-saying-jews-are-human?source=share

PLEASE fucking read this cosmie

lol, just... why? What is wrong with people? This entire assumption that the Eldian's are meant to be some sort of allegory for the Jews is based on nothing more than the fact that they're kept in internment camps in Marley (a detail shared by countless oppressed groups throughout history), and they're identified by wearing armbands embroidered with an emblem of the nine titans (again, hardly unique to the Jews). What people don't seem to GET is that AoT pulls from multiple sources and historical incidents of oppression, war and prejudice, and that the entire story is an amalgamation of all of these things. It isn't meant as a straight allegory for any one event or group of people, it's a melting pot of various, real-world events and people and history, used to ground its themes and messaging in concrete reality. There's multiple other details which also draw parallels between the Eldian's and the Germans, and obvious resemblances between the Yeagerists and Nazi's. I don't understand how people can't seem to get it through their thick-skulled heads that AoT isn't an allegory at all, it's an original piece of fiction that has parallels and similarities to real-world events because it's dealing with real-world shit like prejudice, bigotry, oppression and war.

The titans themselves are just a metaphor for how all people are capable of being monsters. They aren't meant to be seen as literal monsters, and certainly not meant to be some statement about how Jews have some horrible "genetic quirk", like this idiot says, that allows them to be "mind-controlled" by their oppressors and made to do evil things. Do people know how unhinged that sounds? Yes, I'm sure Isayama really believes Jews have some special genetic quirk that can be used to turn them into giant, man eating monsters. Again, AoT is a fantasy. A totally fictional world where magic exists. Any resemblance to real life is, again, simply because, while it's a totally fictional world and deals in fantastical elements, it's dealing with very real things in its themes and messaging.

The monstrosity in AoT is human nature itself, and the human condition. The ones who act the most like monsters are the higher-ups in Marley. Their deliberate cruelty, driven by their prejudice, selfishness, power-mongering and pettiness, are what make them monsters, not the magical ability to turn into literal giants that eat people. In the end, the titans are just victims of human monstrosity.

I swear, that bullshit IGN article, or wherever it originated from, sure did it's job of brainwashing the susceptible idiots in this fandom. Nobody can think for themselves, these days. They get told something about something, and they just believe it without applying any kind of critical thought or nuanced examination.

I really wish people would use whatever small amount of grey matter they actually posses, instead of continuing to spread this kind of baseless, intellectually bankrupt drivel.

#attack on titan #shingkei no kyojin #asks

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jaemsun00 · 4 years ago

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NCT Mark + 00Line When you come home drunk and horny

This is mature content, not much graphic details though. Read at your own risk :)

- MARK

As soon as he heard your going out on a girls night, he was planning ahead. He has dealt with your drunk ass to many times to count. So it was no surprise when you came home giggling over absolutely nothing. Mark thanked your friend who acted as the mother tonight, taking you out of her hands. “Good luck with her” she nodded before going back to the car with some more drunk girls.

“Mark!” You shouted, right in his ear at that. “Hi. Quite your voice down please” he whispered, worried you would wake his house mates up. Which you did but... “I missed you. So so much” your words were jumbled but it still made some sense.

“You saw me less than three hours ag- what are you doing” his voice was now high pitched as your hand traveled down south. “I missed you” Mark has never dealt with you like this, usually you would come home and pass out, this has never happened.

“Okay yeah Uh your hand is” he still held onto you as you placed your right hand right where a certain something was growing. “You missed me too” you chuckle to yourself but Mark awkwardly pushes you away.

“Your drunk. Let’s go clean you up” he nodded to the stairs but you scoff. “Let’s go to the couch and do something else” you sing out, strolling your way towards the grey sofa you helped pick out a few months prior. “No baby, come on” he grabbed onto your arm to pull you gently.

“Why won’t you fuck me?” Your straightforwardness made Marks eyes widen, a bit to wide actually. “Your being-“ “why not?” You whine, flinging your arms around like a child. “Your drunk and I’m not taking advantage of your state” “but I’m asking you” Mark sighed before grabbing at your arm again. “I don’t care, come on let’s get you cleaned up” once he finally had you walking semi straight, he let out a loud sigh.

- RENJUN

You were bored, and your boredom led to you drinking almost a whole wine bottle in a span of an hour. Renjun was late home so you just kept drinking. wine and you never really got along, You being a light weight and all. As soon as you heard your code being put in, you got excited. Fixing your posture as you heard his shoes being kicked off.

“I’m home” he sung out, words quickly seized as he saw the way you were lying on the couch. “Hi” he smiled, ridding of his jacket as he also got excited. That until he saw the half empty wine bottle on the little table beside you. “Hiiii” you wave seductively at him, your legs opening a bit more to show him what exactly he was missing.

“Yeah Hi. Your drunk?” He stood tall, the excitement leaving his body as he knew he can’t do anything with you in this state. “What makes you think that?” You whine, completely not in the right state to even be awake right now.

“The bottle, not to mention the red mark around your lips. I’m gonna go for a shower” he sighed, picking his jacket back up and start his mission to the bathroom. “I’ll come just a- ow” your cry made him turn back to you. You’ve fallen of the couch.

“No your not. Come on let’s go get your teeth brushed” he held out a hand for you to take but instead you slapped it away. “If I can’t shower with you what’s the point in getting up” “your being a child, you’ll feel better in the morning”

- JENO

“Your girl is getting a little... too handsy don’t you think?” Jaemin nodded towards a drunk you, who kept your hands all over your boyfriend. Jeno nodded, removing your hand form his crotch. “Welcome to the world of a drunk ____” he joked before turning to kiss your lips like you whispered for him to, among other things of course

Jaemin just nodded, clearly uncomfortable with you feeling up his friend right infront of him. “I think we might head home” Jeno stood up, a hand on your back as you followed. “Yeah yeah let’s go home” all the people at the table looked towards you two with knowing eyes. Jeno shook his head “sleeping, we are going home to sleep” he said turning to look down at you who was wearing a pout.

“Sleep? Ooo you wanna do it in the car??” You ask eagerly, already ridding of your -Jenos- jacket. “No no. Come on” he grabbed both your wrist to stop your wondering hands which knew their way to the place you wanted.

Jeno reckons this car ride was the hardest. Your hand rubbing along his crotch every other second. You trying to nibble on his neck, it was far to distracting.

Finally pulling up at the apartment complex, he grabbed your hand. “If your not to bad tomorrow we will begin this” he pointed between you two before unlocking the car doors. “I’ll come around, stay there”

- HAECHAN

“Your girlfriends drunk”

“Of course she is. So your gonna let her stay at your house right?” Haechan was joking, well your best friend hoped he was. “Your hilarious, come and get her” she snapped the last part, Haechan sighed hearing your drunk calls for another of your friends. “I reckon it’s your turn to babysit. Thank you” “if your not hear in 5 fucking minutes, lee Hacehan. I promis-“ “okay okay. I’ll be there”

He kept to his word, being there in amount of 3 minutes thanks to the club being close and the traffic was short. “Where is the drunk lady” he pulled up, three of your friends held you back from vomiting your guts up. “I don’t own her” Hacehan shook his head as he saw you, but he still got out to help you.

“Hiya baby” you mumble, grabbing at his cheeks to squish them. “Mmm your hair is wet, why?” He asked ruffling your drenched hair. “Girly thought it was fun to have a water fight with herself in the bathroom” your best friend spoke up, patting Haechan on the back before bidding a goodbye.

“You wanna know what else is wet?” You whispered into his ear making him almost chock on nothing. “Your scalp” he smiled before helping you to the passenger side of his car. “Nope lower” Haechan closed his eyes as he finally got you to sit properly on the seat.

“Well that’s sounds like a you problem” he smiled, leaning over to grab at your seatbelt. You took the opportunity to kiss his neck, knowing how that usually gets him going. “If it’s a me problem, I might aswell fix it right now” you smile once he plugs you in.

Hacehan shook his head. “Your to drunk sweetie. You won’t even know where anything is” he joked before hoping into his side. “I don’t like you like this. Where is the other Hacehan? The one who will gladly touch me?” The boy nodded, with a smile.

“He is still here. But he can’t exactly- do what you want right now. Tomorrow night is a different story though”

- JAEMIN

Jaemin sat on the couch, ignoring your calls of his name. It’s been two hours since you yelled at him for waking you up early. An hour since you decided to down three vodka drinks. Twenty minutes since you begged for him. But he has ignored you, even though it was hard.

“Jaemin” you whined walking into the living room to see him. “Your ignoring me! I did nothing” he could hear the pout in your voice but didn’t dare to look at you, knowing he would give in if he saw it.

“Fine I’ll just go blow Jeno or-“

“Excuse me?” His head snapped up, seeing your red cheeked self. It was clear you had a little bit to much for your body. “Oh so that’s how I get your attention?” You chuckle, nodding as if you did something good.

“You don’t like the idea of my mouth around-“ Jaemin coughed to cut your words short. “Your being silly. Go drink some water” he nodded towards the kitchen, acting as if your words were not bothering him.

He hated you drunk, mainly because of this reason. You being the horny person that you are, and he can’t do anything because of obvious reasons.

“I don’t want to have water in my mouth, I much rather... some thing better” your eyed his crotch, licking your lips a bit to obviously. Jaemin scoffed, standing to his feet. Surely he was still a bit mad at you for earlier. But gosh you were so dang cute right now.

“As much as that sounds very exciting, baby. I would rather you suck me off when you know what to do”

- YANGYANG

All YangYang wanted was to go to sleep, not be driving over to your place and handle a drunk you. “Why’d you drink?” He whined once he saw the bottles scattered across your table. “I got fired” you shrug as if you weren’t crying over it for the last three hours. Yangyang’s eyes went wide when he heard that.

“What? Fired? Why?” He asked all at once, coming to stand beside you as you sniffled a bit. “Someone better. I don’t know he is a stupid boss anyways” you mumble the last part, YangYang patted your back as you downed another little bit of your drink.

“So you spent your money on alcohol? Baby that-“ “I called you for a reason you know?” Your boyfriend nodded, surely he thought you called him for support, to get your mind of the events that you just went through.

Well how wrong was he. Cause now he was pinned down on your couch with you straddling him. “We cannot do this” he smiled trying to push you off his thighs but you pushed him away. “I want to. It’s okay” you smile drunkily at him and it makes him sigh.

“I would love to but baby, I don’t think right now is a good time for this” ignoring his words you lean in for a kiss again but he moves his head so your lips collide with his cheek instead. “We can do this any other time”

“But I want it now!! Oh come on I know you do to” you grind a bit on the growing tent inside of his pants. Groaning a bit YangYang sat up half way. “Please not tonight. When we have sex I want you to remember every detail, okay?”

Giving up you roll off his lop, sitting beside his legs instead. “I want another drink” “no no. No more”

- SHOTARO

“Babbbyyy” you scream through your apartment. Hoping the boy you need right now is here. “Shotaro?” You try again, walking into your bedroom to see a small light shining up the room. Shotaro laid comfortably on your bed, blankets pulled to his chest as he watched a drama with his AirPods in.

Shotaro saw the silhouette of your body before pausing his episode. “Hi your back?” He smiled brightly at you. Switching on the light, you strode closer towards him.

The poor boy had no clue what was about to hit him, thinking you looked as normal as you usually do. That until you started sexily climbing up the bed. Hands on his legs as they got closer and closer.

“What are you doing?” He chuckled nervously, moving his legs underneath your hold. “I want you” you spit out making Shotaro drop his phone on his face, he forgot he still held it above his head.

“Your drunk?” He finally put two and two together, after smelling it once you got close. “Not drunk enough. So let’s get you ready” you sing out, handing pressing down on his sensitive area. “I’m uh. No” he stumbled among his words.

Of course he wanted your mouth around him but you clearly weren’t in a state of mind right now, probably about to pass out as soon as you got him out of his sweat pants.

“No? Why not?” Shotaro sat up, grabbing your hand to hold. “You need sleep, baby” he raised an eyebrow at your scoff. “Sleep is overrated. But you know head isn’t over-“ “baby. Please” he begged with his eyes that made you scrunch up your nose. “You always get what you want. It’s annoying” you whine before falling to lay beside him. Minutes later and you were passed out just as Shotaro expected.

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jimines · 3 years ago

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Whats actually happened between you and taemaknae? I read about it on the tea blog and still confused

This is an insanely long story so I'm going to put it below the cut so for anyone interested in this absolute shit show, continue on.

Essentially, I posted these headers about a month ago:

It was a set of like 8 colours and it was the first time I had ever posted any headers or anything. The issue nic had with these, was the ripped paper bottom. Because apparently you can trademark that. I had asked a (now ex) “friend” of mine if she knew where I could find the ripped paper effect because I had seen the effect on the header of her network blog and I had been trying to find a similar thing for months and google images never gave me anything good. She ended up referring me to google images anyways and after like an hour of dedicated searching, I found this ripped paper effect and used it. This ex “friend” went on to tell another friend of mine that I had "asked where nicole gets her resources for her headers" and then screenshotted my dm as "proof", which still confuses me because I never mentioned nicole there lmao. I've seen the screenshot.

Tell me where I said nicole. It was literally just a question born from seeing the header they had on their network lmao. I feel it’s important to mention I didn’t know this person ran said network at that time, which is why i said “these people”.

This other friend then came to me and just said my headers "may be seen as similar to nic's” and said she noticed it on her own and never mentioned my other “friend” approaching her. I was confused because other than that ripped paper effect that I know many people on tumblr use, I saw no similarities. Nic's headers are usually more complex and more than just a coloured background with a little effect in it. I just wanted to make some simple headers for fun because I was bored. But, regardless, I messaged nic about it to make sure she didn't feel the same way. I told her a friend of mine was worried nic might think my headers are similar to her's and I assured her that if she found them similar I would take them down, no questions asked. Nic told me she was surprised this friend brought it up and told me that it was entirely up to me if I found the headers similar. She never once told me she felt they were the same, never mentioned anything about them, she insisted it was up to me to do as I pleased. So, since I genuinely found no similarities, I left them up.

About a week went by and things between nic and I were fine, or so I thought, based off the fact that she was interacting with my posts, sending me cute asks and replying to a lot of my comments and stuff being kind and whatnot. Then, I decided to post a small list of my creations and the series I had running at the time.

After that, all of a sudden I got an influx of rude hate anons:

To anyone I mentioned the anons to, they agreed with me, you cannot trademark circular icons. This anon also accused me saying “just the fact that you had an anxiety attack about it proves you copied them” Like no sweetie, it’s called three strangers walked into my house and I got anxious.

Despite me not seeing the issue, I messaged nic, assuming she wouldn't care about the icons (it wasn't like I was taking her exact work and copying and pasting them as my own) and that made her very upset. When she responded to me, she was incredibly heated and gave off the vibe she was waiting for me to message her about it.

She said things like "this has actually been bothering me for a while", "i expected you to be able to read between the lines and delete the headers", "i don't know who that anon was but clearly they recognize my style". For starters, she never told me that she was annoyed with me, she was being very kind to me publicly. And I have no idea how I was meant to “read between the lines” of what she said especially considering how kind she was to me the following days. I also never accused her of knowing this anon, she just insisted it wasn't her and she didn't know them right off the bat. She also insinuated that I copied my gifs from others as well, which ticked me off because I made my 100+ layer psd myself thank you very much. But I kept my cool, and I told her I had no idea she felt the way she did, and I told her I would delete the headers (which i did as the conversation was going on), and that I would stop posting my icons and bringing attention to them because no one ever paid it any mind before that point. And I asked her “please tell me straight up the next time you have an issue with me because I am generally pretty dumb with social cues”, I have my adhd to thank for that. And instead of replying, she just blocked me. And conveniently, the hate anons stopped dead right after we blocked each other and I haven't received any since.

Also, these are the kinds of icons I posted:

Looks pretty generic and idk, universal, right?

Then, as I've recently found out today, she was in an "anti-loverjimin" groupchat with at least 2 other bloggers.

Which explains why this all went and fell into place. I know who the two other bloggers are because of what happened two days later but I won't name them just yet, but these two people had been "friends" with me for several months. So, a day or two after nic blocked me, all of a sudden some good friends of mine were blocking me and not talking to me when I asked what was going on. I found out soon after it was because nicole and those two now ex “friends” of mine had taken old dms I sent them and were showing them to people. And I will go into detail about them but I won't name the people they are about for privacy reasons.

Before I move on, to clarify some lies nic has been spreading about me, I never once shit talked nicole to my friends. One of these ex friends also said I was trying to get people on my side. I would have reacted to this all very very differently if that were the case. I would be dragging everyone through the fucking dirt but I don't get off on drama or micromanaging what my mutuals do. My issues are with these people, if you're still friends with them that's your decision i could not care less. So, back to it, the only thing I said about nic was that she and I had a stupid small fight over icons and that she was spreading lies about me, based off of what nic said to jordan.

That exact message, or slight variations of it, was sent to anyone I interacted with because I didn't know if nic was going to stop at jordan or try and get to everyone I fucking knew lmao. Some of the people I messaged this to told ME nic had done this kind of thing before, that she has sent hate anons, launched hate campaigns, cancelled people, etc. Over stupid shit like icons lmao.

Here are some responses I received after I mentioned nicole:

And nic or one of her friends also took it upon themselves to send anons to that tea blog to blow shit up and named everyone and made it an even bigger mess when they saw no one was actively trying to fight me after the dms got out.

I also love that in this following ask, they named my two “friends” that were behind the whole dm drama and backstabbed me, as well as two other people I never badmouthed, that story was twisted. But we’ll get into those details shortly.

And she also told people I clout chased big blogs and only cared about notes. At one point, yes, I did care a lot about my statistics. However, never once did I think clout chasing was worth my fucking time or energy, Nic is the biggest clout chaser on this damn site and there are receipts of that, ask jordan lmao. And I couldn’t give two shits about my statistics anymore lmao, much less anxiety that way. Do I still crave validation sometimes? Sure. But it's not a driving force of my tumblr experience like it used to be.

But, moving on to the dms, the first one was sent when I first came back to tumblr full-time and didn't understand why people self reblogged things, I found the pretence of self reblogging annoying and greedy and I complained about it and it was a comment fuelled by two bloggers that i would see sr a lot on my dash. But I never thought THEY were annoying, as these people are saying I did, it was self reblogging I found annoying and as you can see I have come to understand why people sr and I do it myself too. I didn't even know these two bloggers at this time either. That dm was cropped to hide the fact that this "friend" agreed with me and hid the date as well so it seemed recent, and was sent to one of the bloggers I mentioned as an example, someone I had since become good friends with.

I didn’t befriend one of the people I mentioned there until mid to late June. That friendship is now over thanks to this drama and all the lies. The second friend of mine they went after was never spoken about in dms, they went and turned her against me through lies and manipulation so that friendship has ended too. And while those two were doing that, nic went off to try and turn jordan against me.

There was a particular user on here that I did say some nasty things about but we weren't friends, as many people have been made to believe. I was particularly mad at this person in those dms and was hurtful, I admit, and I have since apologized and owned up to all of it to these people. I did call them fake and/or two-faced.

And what in the gassing me up bullshit was their response though lmao. I also sent this following dm before I even talked about the issue with this person. They urged me to continue and to name drop the person, and I stupidly thought they were trustworthy.

My reasoning for what I said wasn't unwarranted though, I don't make a habit of going around shit-talking people, unless they do something to me first. I vent when I am upset and this person had sent me a passive aggressive ask and then denied sending it when I asked and I thought that was just very fake, especially since she was so kind to me in dms before the ask came in. But all of these dms were cropped too to hide timestamps and responses, and in most cases, like those screenshots prove, these "friends" either gassed me up or egged me on to continue ranting or to name the people i was mad at and they had agreed with me on several, several occasions. Turns out they were trying to get dirt on me to use in their cancel campaign. But the point is, nic has made me out to be this horrible person that befriends "big blogs" (an overrated statement) and then shit talks them behind their back without remorse. Yet it was one person I said rude things about and I, again, owned up to it all and apologized to them the first day. I would've done it sooner had I a) remembered feeling the way I did all those months ago or remembered the dms themselves or b) felt that way still after meeting them. But neither is the case.

I find it really amusing though that these people wanted things to be kept quiet and didn’t want anyone they spoke to to talk to me about it because I was going to “out them on my blog” and “make a big scene”, then they three went and made it a big fucking scene and ruined my friendships. I’m familiar with this pattern of manipulation as it has happened to me in real life before and it’s the most childish bullshit to witness.

Before this callout day for nic, I had never once been directly rude to or about her, same goes for those ex “friends” that betrayed my trust and friendship. The fact that they plotted against me in a group chat while still actively talking to me and being all buddy buddy is just disgusting. Both of them were talking to me that day at the same time they were sharing the dms and shit-talking me to my friends. But yeah, that's my side, the untwisted side, of the whole story. I tried to be mature and talk to nic and when I didn't do what she wanted me to do, she blocked me and launched the hate campaign with dms and the power of photoshop. I’ve been hesitant to make any of this public because it was meant to be a silent ordeal but I’ve grown tired of her constantly publicizing everything without consequence while I remain silent like I promised.

#anon #replied💌#tw:negativity #drama #long post #read at your own risk aha #its a shit show #idc if you rb it #pinning temporarily for the next day(sih)#ish*#edited with screenshots and whatnot that i forgot i had on my phone lmao

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