#the way he looks at kant???????

[gunsatthaphan]

OKAY??¿¿

[cleopheanne]

Random astrology observations (very shallow but fun ig)

- Mercury conjunct sun in a chart gives very logical/mathematical intelligence you will find that the best student in the classroom always have this conjunction, the closest is the orb, the more pronounced are these qualities.

- Venus in exaltation gives deep thinking abilities and it is perfect for philosophy, think about philosophers like Kant, Plato (allegedly), Karl Marx. Or even scientists like Albert Einstein ( Venus in revati),all influenced our modern world in an unthinkable way.

-Jupiterians remind me of the perfect rennaissance man who is all-rounded excelling in every sphere of intelligence: you will find that they really have a deep love for education: absorbing information and utilizing it in everyday of their lives.

- Ketu people are so funny, the funniest imo like they are kind of lost and dgaf about people so they are really blunt and random it's just very comical

- Mars men are popular or rather notorious: they just have an effect on girls from what I observed: Chitra and Dhanista men most of the time. I know a Chitra sun guy that winks at you everytime you cross eyes with him lol, a dhanista sun and ascendant boy that I know had girls writing their snapchats all over his backpack in high-school also he would get purchased by them like they would form circles around him it was pretty funny to see

- Purva bhadrapada men are SASSY

- Rohini women are really sensitive about their appearance and love when people are jealous of them

- Venusians have a keen eye for aesthetics

- When it comes to writing poetry: Virgo people are simply the best : Uttara phalguni, Hasta and Chitra

- Ketu women are able to see through the illusions of life: especially ketu on the ascendant, their intuition is simply always right

- Having your sun in the 11th house makes you very likable, if it is not afflicted you will have a large circle of friends, be well known in your area.

- A lot of energy in the 12th house add an air of mystery on an individual it can really scare some people off: they can be excluded from their community, can be deemed as scary or weird

- If you want a venusian to like you : be pleasant, smell good, be funny, make them eat well, give out thoughtful gifts. Venus loves sensorial stimulation

- If you want to know what life direction you should be taking, look at your d9 and d60 charts

- Pisces women are in tune with their sexualities: they can loose their virginity at a really young age and are curious about this side of life

- Ashlesha people need to be careful about what they say: they grow up in really harsh environments so they internalize this harshness and sometimes they can really projects on others and hurt with their words for nothing kind of like a snake

Anyways I think that's all I will comeback with more astrology observations on more specific subjects.

Also be mindful, you can not analyze a chart without looking at it completely so these are not to be taken at the letter close, it can always differ depending on the chart: it is simply for entertainment.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

You Already Know, Babe

Request: Heyy would I be able to pretty please ask for a Roy one-shot based of So High School? Mainly the lyric: "Truth, Dare, Spin Bottles. You know how to ball, I know Aristotle" (bc I have TTPD brainrot) Like I'd love to picture Roy with a total academic girl who loves classic literature and ancient greece and philosophy pls ???

Roy Kent x Reader

3.3k words

Warnings: Language, Roy being insecure, the guys making Roy feel bad (not on purpose)

A/N: Ahhh I also have TTPD brainrot so I loooooove this! I made the reader a uni professor. Also been wanting to do a Bantr fic for Roy for a while, so I incorporated that in too!

Roy scowled and sipped his beer. “Fuck no.”

Leaning forward in the booth they sat in, Keeley gave him her best puppy-dog eyes, the ones that stopped working the moment he got over her. “Come on, Roy. I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it’d be good for you.”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Jamie chimed in.

“‘Fuck no’ used to be a complete sentence,” Roy growled.

Before he could stop the striker, Jamie grabbed Roy’s mobile off the table, holding it just out of the gaffer’s reach. “Just… one… moment…” he huffed as Keeley did her best to hold Roy back. “Alright, we need a username.”

Roy rolled his eyes but stopped fighting against Keeley’s grip. “How about ‘This is fucking stupid’?”

“I think that’s against their policy,” Jamie hummed, eyes still on the phone.

Keeley thought for a moment. “RoyallySarcastic? Y’know, ROYally?”

Jamie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I got it!” He typed away before proudly showing the screen to Roy and Keeley. “RoyalPain,” he announced.

With a giggle, Keeley took the phone from Jamie and handed to Roy, who looked ready to kill his friends. “There we are Roy-o,” she said. “Welcome to Bantr.”

~

~

Roy sat at the small table, fidgeting with the shiny fork on the table and staring intently at the condensation on the glass of water in front of him. Why the fuck was he so nervous? He was Roy fucking Kent, he reminded himself sternly. He’d been on plenty of dates. Sure, this was his first Bantr date, but that shouldn’t really matter. He’d been on a couple of blind dates in the past; this shouldn’t be much different.

But it sure felt different when you walked in, all wide eyes and nervous smiles. You approached him hesitantly, cocking your head as you got closer. Your gaze flickered to the tattered copy of A Wrinkle in Time on the table next to him before settling on his face.

“RoyalPain?” you squeaked out, raising your eyebrows expectantly.

Before he could stop himself, he grinned and blurted out, “I Kant believe it’s you.” Immediately, he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nope, fuck, that was stupid. I’m sor-”

Your laughter eased his embarrassment as you sat across from him. “Don’t you dare apologize,” you countered. “That was cute.” You offered your name with a small smile.

“Roy,” he said simply, searching your face for any sign that you recognized him.

Instead, you nodded and leaned forward. “And what do you do, Roy?”

What did he do? He tried to remember the last time someone asked him that. “I work for a football team,” he said slowly. “A.F.C. Richmond.”

You nodded, interest all over your pretty face. “And what do you do at Richmond?”

He blinked a few times and cleared his throat. “Do you… you don’t know who I am?” Fuck, he felt like an absolute asshole saying the words out loud.

“Sure I do,” you chuckled. “I just figured that Roy Kent doesn’t often get the chance to introduce himself. Thought I’d give you the opportunity.”

Roy couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, it was kind of dorky, but fuck, he liked it. Just like he liked hearing about your job as a uni professor, or the article you recently wrote about Arthurian legend, or the book you’d read recently. And he really liked the way you looked at him like he was the most fascinating thing in the world, more interesting than the well-renowned experts and authors you got to spend time with, asking him about his work and his life and his opinions. He smiled all through dinner, laughing at jokes even when they went over his head and making a mental list of books he now wanted to read.

He was still grinning as he walked you to your car after dinner, wondering when he’d last enjoyed himself so much on a date. As you fished your keys out of your purse, he found himself desperately hoping for another date with you. And another. And another.

“Could we do this again sometime?” he asked gently once your keys were in your hand.

Fuck, he loved the way your eyes lit up at his question. “Absolutely,” you breathed.

With a dizzy little nod, Roy cupped your face and tugged you close, ghosting his lips over yours. You gently laid your hands on his hips to press against him, deepening the kiss. You swore you could feel him smiling against your mouth as his thumb stroked your cheek. Some little part of you wanted to pull this man into your car, into your apartment, into your bed. But from the happy little hum that vibrated from his chest to yours, you knew you had plenty of dates ahead of you, plenty of time for all that, plenty of Roy Kent ahead of you.

~

After three weeks of dates and laughter and late-night phone calls and kisses that escalated to other things, Roy invited you to a match. He seemed weirdly nervous for a retired football legend whose dating history could fill any of the giant books that filled the shelves in your office, but you found his nerves nothing short of charming. So, you threw on some comfy jeans and a sweatshirt and climbed into Roy’s giant black car to go with him to Nelson Road, where he showed you his office before giving you your ticket and sending you off to your seat with a chaste kiss.

Roy was fighting the stupidest smile as he prepared for the match, the same stupid smile he’d been fighting since your first date. He was excited for you to see him and the Greyhounds in action, to be able to show off for you a little and, he didn’t fucking know, make you proud or some shit.

“Was that your girlfriend, Roy?” Sam raised his eyebrows as he and Jan stood in the doorway.

He cleared his throat. “No,” he said slowly. “But we’ve been dating for a few weeks.” He paused for a moment, hoping he didn’t look too dopey as he spoke. “She’s a professor. Fucking brilliant. Like, she teaches, and she’s been published and speaks at conferences.”

Jan spoke up. “Most men would not be able to handle dating a woman so much more educated than they are. Good for you, Coach. It’s nice that you are not intimidated by her clearly superior intellect.”

A knot appeared in Roy’s stomach, but he simply cleared his throat and gave a curt nod. “Yeah, well.” He blinked, not sure what the fuck he was supposed to say to that. “Best finish getting ready, hmm?”

Jan’s words continued to flutter around Roy’s mind like an annoying butterfly as he made his way out to the pitch. He liked that you were smart. Hell, he liked that you were smarter than him. He could listen to you talk for hours about literature and history and philosophy, especially when your eyes lit up and your voice got faster, the way he noticed it did when you were especially passionate about something. It was impressive, not to mention sexy as all hell. But there had definitely been moments over the last few weeks where he had to Google what you were talking about while you weren’t looking, or where he laughed at a joke he didn’t really understand. It came with the territory, he told himself. It was to be expected, dating someone like you.

And there you were, sitting in the seat Roy had selected for you, the one that gave you the perfect view of the dugout- per your request. You waved excitedly when you caught Roy’s eye, wearing that giant smile that made his heart skip a beat. He offered back a small wave, knowing full well that all the guys could see his furious blush.

“That your girl?” Colin asked, following Roy’s dreamy gaze.

Roy shrugged, turning his attention back to his team. “Uh, I guess?” he mumbled, taking the clipboard Nate handed him.

Sam spoke up. “Roy said she’s a uni professor.”

Respect covered the faces of the men that were clearly more interested in Roy’s love life than their impending match. They all started chattering over each other, ignoring Roy’s eyerolls and Beard and Nate’s amused expressions.

Richard waggled his eyebrows. “Does she offer special office hours for you, Coach?”

Roy wrinkled his nose at the Frenchman. “What the fuck is that supposed to-”

“Did you have to buy a new dictionary to keep up with her?” Zoreaux teased.

Isaac spoke up, clapping a hand on Roy’s shoulder. “Most guys would probably run for the hills if they had to keep up with a woman’s brainpower,” he started. “But Roy’s not intimidated. I mean, sure, we all know he’s no Einstein, but he’s got other great qualities. Like…”

Roy raised a cool eyebrow at the captain, more curious than offended at this point.

“Coaching,” Colin finally finished for Isaac. “He’s a great manager.”

Jamie pipped up now. “And she seems to really like looking at you, Grandad.” He nodded to the stands where, sure enough, you were still gazing at Roy, affection all over your face. “She’s cute,” he mused.

Roy cleared his throat, trying to focus attention to the match at hand and not your pretty smiles. Or the words of his players that had etched a deep frown onto his bearded face. “Alright, Greyhounds!” he hollered. “Let’s fucking focus, lads! We’ve got a fucking match to win!”

~

And they did win, much to Roy’s pleasure. Winning always felt good, but he had to admit that winning in front of a pretty girl felt fucking great. And it was even better when he found you waiting in his office, gazing at him as if you had hearts in your eyes.

“That was brilliant!” you gushed, wrapping your arms around his middle while his rested on your shoulders and tugged you close. You pressed a tiny kiss to his lips. “Thank you so much for inviting me, Roy.”

He smiled down at you and pecked your nose. “Think you’ll come again sometime?” he teased.

Your eager nodding melted his heart. “Absolutely,” you promised. “Maybe next time I’ll even wear a kit. Since I think I’m officially a Richmond fan now.”

“That kit better have a six on it,” Roy growled, smacking another kiss to your cheek. He gave you a small squeeze before releasing you. He reached down to grab your hand. “I’ve got to go talk to the press for a bit, he explained, leading you over to his desk. “D’you mind waiting here? We can grab dinner once I’m done,” he promised. “Here, you can even watch the presser on my computer.”

“Sounds perfect.” You touched his cheek and pulled him close for one more kiss. “Now get going, I want to see you be brilliant in front of all those reporters.”

Roy was still blushing when he got in front of the cameras. The press conference was a blur of questions and comments. He’d probably have to apologize to Keeley later, because he was sure he was dreamy and distracted the entire time. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so lovesick over a woman, and he especially couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed it so much.

When he returned to his office, he was surprised to see Jamie sitting on the edge of his desk, chatting pleasantly with you. You both lit up at the sight of him, with Jamie choosing to speak first as Roy offered a small grin to you.

“Your girl was just telling me about this seminar she’s speaking at next weekend,” he announced. “Some talk on the Lord of the Rings books and their impact on modern cinema.” He nodded to you. “It actually sounds really cool.” He slid off the desk with ease, offering you a wink. “Not sure what someone as smart as you is doing with Grandad here,” he joked.

He was kidding around. Roy knew that. Jamie loved to tease everyone, especially him. He was well-aware of the way Jamie admired him, as his childhood hero, as his coach, and, fuck it, fine, as his friend. Maybe it was all the joking from earlier, but Roy felt his face fall at Jamie’s teasing. He couldn’t help it; it was one thing for the guys to joke to his face, another to make a comment in front of you. He wouldn’t admit it even to himself, but some part of him was terrified you’d realize how brilliant you were, and how dull he was, and call the whole thing off.

Roy was so busy stewing in his childish embarrassment, he missed the way your eyebrows scrunched at Jamie, your mouth in a straight line. When you spoke, your voice was flat, maybe even a little angry, as you responded to the striker.

“I think,” you said slowly, “I’m going to dinner with him.” With that, you took Roy’s hand, hoping the adoration in your eyes would be enough to wipe that frown off his handsome features. “Ready, Roy?”

Roy nodded, but barely said a word as the two of you walked through the Dog Track, got into his car, and drove to the restaurant he’d been excitedly telling you about the day before. However, that excitement was nowhere to be seen as the two of you settled in and ordered some dinner. You cocked your head at him, wondering how someone who’d just coached such a great game could look so sullen- especially while on a date with someone he was supposed to really like.

“That match was incredible,” you offered, leaning forward with a smile. “Seriously, Roy. How do you do that? Being able to see the game unfold and know what plays to call, what players to have on the pitch. And all the preparation you have to do in advance. It’s like a really intense game of chess, with all those moving pieces, not knowing what the other side is going to do next.” You reached out and laid your hand on top of his. “Your team is so lucky to have you.”

His gaze avoided yours as he cleared his throat. “Dunno how much of it is me,” he chuckled hollowly. “I inherited a great team and have a really talented coaching staff.” He shrugged. “Sometimes I feel like I just… stand there and take up space.”

Now it was your turn to frown. This wasn’t the Roy Kent you met, the Roy Kent that teased you and smirked and made cocky comments just to make you laugh. Something had happened, something between the beginning of the match and the end, to make him so morose. Maybe something had happened in the match that you’d missed; you weren’t much of a sports fan before meeting Roy, you really only knew the basics, so it was possible what you thought was an incredible match was really something of a failure for him.

Maybe distracting him would help.

“I was telling Jamie Tartt about the conference I’m speaking at,” you tried again. “It’s this fantasy and pop culture thing. Kind of dorky,” you admitted. “But I’m really excited about my talk on Tolkien and his influence on modern cinema. My colleague was saying he really liked this one parallel I drew between Frodo and- well, I don’t want to spoil it.” You squeezed his hand. “You should come. I’ve seen you at work, now I want to show you what I do.” You shrugged. “Could even bring Jamie if you want.”

Roy nodded absently, not quite looking you in the eye. “Yeah, just make sure to get me a translator so I can understand what you’re saying.” His voice sounded like he was attempting to make a joke, but it fell flat. “Academics to neanderthal or some shit.”

That was enough of that, you decided. With a sigh, you leaned back, cocking your head at the gaffer and shooting him your sternest glare, the one you saved for students who didn’t know how to act like adults in your classroom. “Alright, Roy. What’s going on? You’re acting like you don’t want to be here, and, frankly, I don’t want to hang out with someone who doesn’t value my time.”

“I…” Roy let out a low growl and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re smart,” he finally blurted out. “Like, really, really fucking smart. You teach, and you’re published, and you speak in front of academic types who hang onto every word you say.” He released his nose and shook his head at you, embarrassment swimming in those brown eyes. “And I… played football. I coach football. That’s fucking it. I can’t stand the idea of you being embarrassed by the fact that I can’t keep up with you. That you’re going to turn around and realize I’m not smart enough for you.”

Your stomach twisted in knots as you took in the sight of him, looking devastated, like he was waiting for you to tell him he was right, he was a neanderthal, and that you didn’t think he was smart enough for you. If it wasn’t so sad, the picture of Roy looking so forlorn would be almost endearing.

“That,” you finally murmured, “might be the stupidest thing you’ve said since we met, Roy.” He nodded, a grimace covering his face as you went on. “Not smart enough for me?” you scoffed. “Roy, I think you’re brilliant.” You sighed and shook your head. “I mean, look at you today. I could never do what you do, managing an entire football team. And I’ve seen clips of you when you played, you were brilliant then too. Not just a skilled player, but a smart one. And from what you’ve said, you have great relationships with your players, with your niece and sister, hell even with your ex-girlfriend. That takes an emotional intelligence most people don’t have.”

“I mean-”

You shushed the gruff man. “’m not finished. And what’s this about you not being able to keep up with me? You read almost as much as I do, Roy. When you don’t know something, you immediately learn everything you can about it. You absolutely tore through ‘Le Morte d'Arthur’ after our first date so you could ask me about my King Arthur article.” A smile finally broke through your face. “So, unless this is some roundabout way of trying to say you don’t want to see me anymore, please stop insulting the man I’m dating and accept that there’s different kinds of intelligence. And I like your intelligence quite a bit.”

For a moment, you thought you may have completely overwhelmed Roy. He blinked at you with an unreadable expression before letting out a breathy chuckle. With raised eyebrows and something that looked close to a smile, he finally opened his mouth.

“I’ve just… never had such an intelligent girlfriend before,” he said slowly. “I’ve dated smart women. Driven women. But no one like you. It’s… a little scary, how brilliant you are.” That something close to a smile became a real grin as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “And really fucking sexy,” he added quickly.

Your heart skipped a beat with every word out of his mouth. “You’ve never had a nerdy girlfriend before, hmm?” you teased.

His expression was bashful, but absolutely pleased. “No,” he chuckled. “I haven’t.”

A smirk crossed your face as you batted your eyes at him. “Do you want a nerdy girlfriend?”

Those brown eyes were so soft, so full of affection as he nodded gently. “Yeah,” he breathed, raising those thick eyebrows at you. “I really fucking do.”

“That,” you hummed with a silly grin, “might be the smartest thing you’ve said all day, Roy.”

[firstkanaphans]

Not gonna lie I’ve been waiting for you to wake up - please share all your thoughts on the trailer ❤️

Ellie! I was not prepared. I had almost 400 notifications when I woke up and was immediately like, “Something FK has happened here.” Sorry for the delayed response. I had to watch the trailer a couple hundred times before I was able to form coherent thoughts.

I really enjoyed it! There was both more bondage and more dancing than I was expecting. I was pleasantly surprised by the bondage, but a little wary of the dancing. Joong’s dance, at least, seems to be a strip tease though, so I guess I’ll allow it.

What the trailer really highlighted for me is that, at its heart, this is a love story between Bison and Fadel just as much as it is a love story between either of their romantic partners. They’re polar opposites. Bison is soft in real life, but rough in the bedroom, and Fadel is rough in real life, but soft with Style. But despite their differences, they both love so deeply. Just in the trailer, we get these two lines, which speak of a forever kind of love. 

(Also look! The paintball scene from 10 Things!)

I think Fadel and Bison have been craving unconditional love and affection their whole lives and have finally found it in Kant and Style. (Which is why it’s going to hurt even worse when they find out there are, in fact, conditions.)

I had already been spoiled about the BDSM by novel readers, but I’m still shocked they put it in the trailer. I think that’s going to be a very fun aspect to explore as consensual BDSM is still rare in BLs—or in any media, really. I talked a bit about why I love this character detail for Bison here, but I also love how it works to balance the power dynamics between them. Kant might be pursuing a relationship with Bison at least partially for nefarious reasons, but giving Bison the metaphorical “power” in their physical relationship makes it feel less exploitative. 

But oh my god. Fadel??? He has my whole heart already. He’s so broken and sad and I hope Style can help make him feel whole again and show him that he’s capable of being loved for more than just his ability to kill people. And although I’m not 100% sure this is what’s happening when Fadel is going down on Style in that storage closet, I’m kinda obsessed with the idea of them playing gay chicken. Like he doesn’t think Style actually likes him so he’s going to test him by giving him a blow job. It’s so perfect. This show is a fanfic writer’s dream.

What I really love about all of Jojo’s productions is that you can just tell he had a blast making them. He puts his whole heart into each and every one and even if there are a few bumps in the road, I appreciate someone who is passionate about their work because you’re going to get a better product that way. I also have a sneaking suspicion this script is strong just based on some of the parallels in the trailer and also that leaked plot summary which I was very impressed with, but I still don’t know for sure because no one will tell me who wrote it.

[f4iry-bell]

AND THEY WERE BOTH BOYS

pairing: jameson hawthorne x rohan

summary: a joke

tagging: @clarissaweasley-10 @emelia07 @whatsamongus @cassie6392

a/n: 🫶🫶

masterlist

Rohan doesn't like interacting with irrelevant people, or with people he is interested in during irrelevant times. Interacting with people during dinner in the grandest game was one of those irrelevant moments of his, especially since he has to put up with Jameson Hawthorne. He had this feeling—he couldn't put the right word to it— everytime Jameson said something.

“Could you pass me the bottle of water?” Jameson asked in a British accent to Rohan.

Rohan stabbed his fork on the plate. “You do realise that you're half British too, right?”

“I am a proud American.”

“Can’t tell.” Rohan said sarcastically.

“Kant tell.” Jameson mimicked Rohan’s accent.

“Can you stop? You know what? I'm done with dinner. Thank you.”

Later, Jameson followed him. Jameson found Rohan standing in the hallway looking at a portrait of two dogs playing.

“Are you familiar with this portrait, Rohan?”

Rohan sighed as he saw him approached, sighed at his sight. Because he was just so— no!

“No.”

“They are both boys.”

Rohan turned to Jameson. “What?”

“It's not a sin.”

“It literally is…” Rohan pointed.

“Right, I meant. Love, truth, they aren't sins.” Jameson stepped closer to him.

“What are you talking about, Hawthorne?”

“Truth…our truth. We shouldn't repress what we have Rohan.” He said, trying to close the distance between them.

“Are you mad?”

“I see the way you look at me.”

Rohan’s breath hitched. “What of Avery?”

“Who?”

“Avery…The heiress? Your girlfriend.”

“I will love you regardless of your schizophrenia. Because there is no heiress or a girlfriend named Avery.”

“What?” Rohan was flabbergasted.

“It is probably a Mandela effect.” then he adds “don't make me think I kissed you in my head tomorrow.”

Then he pulled Rohan into a passionate kiss.

[kimberleyjean]

The Price of a Life: Death and Dying in Good Omens

In this meta I want to take a closer look at one of the prominent themes I’ve spotted running through Season 2 of Good Omens. While S2 has been billed as the gentle and romantic bridge towards S3, in a few ways it actually had darker tones than S1. If that’s your cup of tea - read on!

What is the value of a human life? 

This is a question which has been pondered by philosophers far back into the reaches of history. More recently, economists have attempted to put a price on human life, which is then used when justifying the various societal costs associated with governing a population (i.e. healthcare, education). These two different schools of thought are sometimes at odds. Immanuel Kant proposed that humans have invaluable dignity, but not a price - being “not merely something to be used for the ends of others, or traded on the market”[1]. In opposition, value of life calculations, by definition, put a price on the value of an individual.

What side does Good Omens S1 take?

In Good Omens Season 1, one of the significant moral dilemmas, at least for Aziraphale and Crowley, was about whether or not to kill the antichrist.

I've never actually... killed anything. I don't think I could. Not even to save everything? One life... against the universe.

Following their failed attempts to influence Adam’s childhood development, once at the airfield, Aziraphale believes it to be a foregone conclusion that Adam should be killed - eliminate one to save the many. Of course, their attempts fail and Adam faces off against Death, the Four Horsepersons and Satan himself, eventually getting his own way. However, the moral question posed about killing Adam never reaches a definite conclusion.

With the flashback scenes that S1 added to the book, we are shown this same theme when Aziraphale and Crowley attend the crucifixion. The crucifixion is shown in agonising detail here, and gives us an empathetic look at the sacrifice of one life for, presumably, the overall good of humanity. (Although, what metaphysical impact Jesus’ death had in the Good Omens universe isn’t exactly clear). We see Aziraphale and Crowley stand idly by while the Great Plan is enacted.

Does S2 do things differently?

While Good Omens S1 dabbles lightly in the philosophical question about the value of life, Season 2 picks up this thread time and time again - sometimes attaching some numbers!

One of the key mysteries of present-day S2 is the mammoth miracle performed by Aziraphale and Crowley. Registering on the scales at 25 Lazari, this is 25 times the cost of human life in Heaven's accounting system. Presumably, one Lazari is the amount used when Jesus resurrected Lazarus of Bethany four days after his death. As we'll see, this attaching of numbers to human lives is then repeated throughout each of the minisodes.

Firstly we have the flashback sequence with Job and his children. Aziraphale makes the argument that just doubling the number of new children wouldn’t adequately compensate Job and Sitis for the loss of their existing children - since they “quite like the old ones”. The value of human life is not a simple accounting exercise and one life cannot be substituted for another, in the case of the people you love - they’re priceless.

We see this same idea demonstrated again throughout the Resurrectionist minisode. We first meet Elspeth MacKinnon when she is exhuming a body to sell, in order to buy her and her partner a slightly better life worth living. However, the surgeon Dalrymple is not above haggling over human remains. To him this is a business transaction, in which dead bodies are worth no more than five pounds a pop. To Dalrymple, the cost of saving future lives is that others should risk the grave gun gathering bodies which he may then dissect.

Aziraphale is first opposed to anyone being dug up, but then is won over by Dalrymple’s argument, at least until Wee Morag is killed and suddenly for sale. As Crowley says, echoing the Job minisode, “it’s a bit different when it’s someone you know”. In opposition to Dalrymple’s accounting exercises, and, indeed, the 90 guineas with which Aziraphale buys Elspeth's life, Crowley is offering an alternative view. A life is of higher value when it is someone we, personally, know and care for.

We also witness this theme during the 1941 flashback / Nazi-zombie minisode. The magic shop owner warns Aziraphale that he is about to take on a death-defying trick - one which people have died trying, no less! “Your life is worth a lot more than seven pounds five shillings,” argues the shopkeeper. Instead, it turns out that a customer’s life is worth about 27 pounds and five shillings, since he more than willingly accepts that offer - “on your head be it!”.

As human beings, the price we are willing to place on an individual life, how much we are willing to sacrifice for that person, is all dependent on how well we know them.

“He’s just an angel I know”

But it’s the knowing that makes all the difference.

“It’s a bit different when it’s someone you know”

So, for his life, what price are you willing to pay?

What if it was “one life... against the universe”?

Lastly, death is the price that all humans must pay, no matter what. As the Metatron asks at the end of S2 - “Does anyone ever ask for Death?”. But those are thoughts worthy of a future post.

Thank you to everyone at the @ineffable-detective-agency as always, but especially @lookingatacupoftea and @embracing-the-ineffable for their feedback on this post.

[1] Nussbaum, M., & Pellegrino, E. D. (2008). Human dignity and bioethics: essays commissioned by the President's Council on Bioethics. JAMA, 300, 2922.

[jasmine-the-fox]

Olga can see the truth

Hey guys! Back with another salt fic request made by UnknownDrew over on AO3! So happy to write this so I hope you all enjoy it in the end like I loved writing it!

Anyways enjoy the fic!

Olga has worked with children long enough to know that when something doesn’t sound right… look it up online to see if it’s true… and Lila Rossi was a walking lie in her opinion. It didn’t matter what it was about, she has to lie about herself no matter what which is why she has given Lila detention each time she lied or made an excuse for not doing the work she was assigned.

It caused the girl to always be quiet in her class… but the second she left the classroom she would go back to lying about herself… and that’s when she noticed that something was happening to people when Lila lied about something.

Marinette would avoid any place at school where Lila could be heard. During lunchbreak or when school ended, she noticed how she looked depressed while quickly heading home… which made her worry greatly for the girl… then came Adrien Agreste. If he was with his friends, he was happy and with a smile on his face… but the second Lila came over he would either keep away from her, ignore her or excuse himself and leave the group… which would upset Lila greatly.

But it was clear that both of them didn’t like Lila and she was hurting them with her lies… with this all noted, she decided to inform Caline to see what she had planned to stop all of this… but she was shocked by her words “Olga… I think you work too much as your making all of this up about my class. Nothing is wrong with any of my students” she said before walking away.

this up about my class. Nothing is wrong with any of my students” she said before walking away.

She tried to make her see things her way but Caline simply sighed “If anything… I think you should have Marinette in your class… that girl has been causing problems in the class by refusing for them to all be friends… especially with Lila” with that said she left to get to her classroom.

This shocked Olga… Caline was blinded by her own beliefs to not see how terrible her class was the longer Lila was there lying to her students. She had noticed that the class was bullying Marinette and ended their friendship with her because of things Lila said to them while crying crocodile tears to them… disgusted by this, Olga decided to do things herself about Caline’s class and she was going to make sure things changed for the better.

Which is why she stormed into Damocles’ office which startled him with a glare “For far too long you have pampered Caline into believing she can do no wrong and how her students are perfect. But it ends now! You will give me the power to punish her and her students as she should have done or I will get the proper authorities involved to investigate her, the class and you!” she demanded making the man tremble as he went pale from her words… but he agreed and wrote her a note to give to Caline so she knows that she has no say in what Olga decides for the class in the end.

She nods back to him after taking the note and went to her classroom to get started on her plan, it was going to happen and Caline won’t be able to protect her students from being punished in the end… but she hoped it would give them a wake-up call that they needed from the start.

The very next day, she storms into the classroom before Caline could start the lesson “Olga? What are you doing here?” Caline asked in great surprise. Olga gives her the note and she goes pale after reading it “And if you have a problem, you can go speak to him” she said, this angered Caline but she left the classroom to probably try to speak to Damocles about this.

Then Caline looked them over “When I call your name you stand” she said making them look at her confused “Alya Cesaire, Kim Lechien, Alix Kubel, Nino Lahiffe, Max Kante and Ivan Bruel” she said which made them all stand “You all have one week of detention, I also will have you do cleaning with the janitor during that week. If you have a problem with this, I will have no problem speaking to your parents about the unjustified bullying towards Marinette that you have done” she said making them look at her in shock.

“Now then… Juleka Couffaine, Mylène Haprèle, Rose Lavillant, Nathaniel Kurtzberg and Sabrina Raincomprix. For now, I want you to return home and think about what Marinette has done so terrible that you saw her do to deserve the pain she received” she ordered making them slowly nod as they grabbed their things and left.

Olga noticed how nervous Marinette and Adrien looked over the situation “So this leaves… Alya Cesaire, Chloe Bourgeois and Lila Rossi… your parents have been called and informed of the bullying done towards Marinette… As for you Lila your mother was also informed of the sexual harassment you have done towards Adrien… which his father is informed about… and she also knows about how your failing” she said making Lila freak out as she tried to run out… only to be stopped by her mother.

Once it was only her with Marinette and Adrien. She told Mari that her parents were waiting for her at home “You will also be allowed a week to stay at home to rest” she explained making Mari nod and leave the classroom. With her and Adrien alone… she turned to look at him “It is very clear that you have suffered greatly. Get yourself a therapist to get some help to help you with the pain you have gone through” she said making him nod and promise to get one before leaving to return home.

Once he left, she pulled out her phone and called Child services about what Adrien is going through at school and at home. She also described Adrien’s physical form of being skinny and also how he is pulled out of school often without the school giving permission for him to go… she then calls the Embassy and informs them of how Lila has been using her mom’s job to protect herself and lie about travelling.

This of course causes many changes… Alya was without electronics because of her actions, some were pulled out of activities because of what they have done, Chloe was banned from shopping and Lila… well she was on the next flight back to Italy where she will reside until college… if she even is able to get into one that is.

Adrien was also taken to live with his aunt in London due to child labor laws being broken by his father who made Adrien work when he should be at school, put on multiple diets that were becoming dangerous for him and worked him over the normal hours he should be working… in the end things were getting better. Marinette was smiling again and made some new friends and was confirmed doing a lot better by her parents, they even got her a therapist to talk to about her pain and suffering she was put through.

But it was all thanks to Olga… because now justice has been served… since she was the only one who knew what to do in the end…

[magnoliasandarson]

buoy

Jason Todd loved literature. It was a cornerstone of his identity; it comprised his moral code, mannerisms, and actions.

When he was a child, it was fanciful stories of good and evil, black-and-white words that made the demarcation between hero and villain clear. After Bruce took him in, long after Jason stopped seeing himself as a child, it became philosophical texts. Nietzsche, Dostoevsky, Kant… suddenly, the doubts he’d pushed aside as a child were given merit; the world was never black and white; it had always been a muddy fog of greys. Bruce disagreed with his interpretations, but Alfred had looked him deep in the eyes and given him all the reassurance he’d never known he needed.

Jason Todd loved literature. He was a snob, one of those pricks that made jokes about Herman Melville that got zero response from listeners.

When he pieced together the fragmented shards of his own psyche, after the riptides of green left him drowning in a burning warehouse, he half-stumbled half-crawled to the Gotham Public Library. The building was dark. Not a single light in any of its many windows, but that had never and would never stop Jason. He clambered into an alley, a hand still clutching the gory mess of his throat, and yanked down the ladder to the fire escape. The skin of his palm was almost fused to the tissue of his neck, a half-solid mass of scabs connecting them, but he ignored the agony and pulled his hand away. Once he made it up the ladder, it was easy to kick in a window.

Jason Todd loved literature. He devoured novels and consumed complex philosophical works in foreign languages over his morning cereal. He was an intellectual at his core, and part of him would always rage at the fact that he could never study literature at one of the fancy universities Alfred had told him about.

He found the light switch by some miraculous happenstance. Immediately flooding the room in a violent fluorescent glow. Jason used the shelves as a crutch and hobbled his way down rows of books. His mind, he knew, was about as sound as a termite-infested log cabin, but no amount of severe head trauma could erase the memories of these book stacks. He had hidden here, taken shelter, learned, and grown. This was more his home than that fucked up nightmare apartment, the streets, Wayne Manor, or even Nanda Parbat had ever been.

Jason Todd loved literature. Before his “death”, he had been halfway through reading The Brothers Karamazov. He had even tucked a copy of the book into his bag when he made his great escape to Ethiopia. But he didn’t look for that book now.

He pushed past the adult fiction books, all the stuffy tomes of great import, and landed harshly on the once-brightly colored carpet in the kids’ section.

His bloody fingers gently lifted a book from the ground, and he almost sobbed when he saw Where the Wild Things Are. The book held no particular meaning to Jason; he had read it once, maybe twice, in elementary school. This wasn’t the book Catherine read to him, and it certainly wasn’t something Bruce would’ve ever entertained. Still, he clutched it to his chest and struggled to breathe.

Jason Todd loved literature- fact.

Jason Todd died- fact.

Jason Todd should be dead- fact.

Jason Todd was not dead- fact.

Jason Todd loves literature- fact.

The nightmare that has been his life for, well, his entire life, fades away in a heartbeat. Jason Todd wasn’t dead, and he was holding a fucking book. It didn’t matter that his life was in ruins- been there, done that, got the gravestone.

Jason Todd loves literature, so he sits and reads a children's book, and stops drowning.

[moni-logues]

Hi there, pretty Moni!

If it isn’t too much to ask, may I please request a professor Yoongi x female college student reader piece?

For the genre, hmmm. Surprise us, maybe? 🤭🥹

Thank you very much, eonni. ☺️

okkkkkkkkkkk

SO, I am not super comfortable with a professor/student dynamic so I have done a peer tutor type situation; hope that is ok! I really don't know if this is anything, tbh, but I'm really just trying to leave the tap on to get the rust out!! So thank you for this request; I hope it at least in some way satisfies!

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (gender neutral)

Genre: acquaintances-to-?? dating? maybe?? tbc lol; college/uni AU

Summary: Your university forces you to be tutored to bring up your grades; your tutor is the quiet loner from class whom you begin to realise you should have noticed long before now.

Word count: 1.2k

Content: none to warn for, unless you have traumatic memories of philosophy essays lmao

Kant or Won't?

You pushed through the heavy library door with a sigh. It was a beautiful day – one of the first of the year. The blossom was budding on the trees; the grass was dry enough to sit on; the sun was bright and warm overhead. You were heading into the dim, crowded world of studying on a Saturday.  

You only had yourself to blame. You knew that. One too many parties and too few essays written. You knew you had to try harder. What you didn’t know was why your school was mandating tutoring. It wasn’t that you didn’t know things! You didn’t struggle with the material; it was the sitting down and focusing on it that was the problem. How a tutor was supposed to help with that, you didn’t know. You did, however, want to stay at university so you accepted your fate.  

The peer tutor service had told you which private study room was booked for your session, but when you peered in through the door window, you assumed there must have been some sort of mistake.  

“Uh, it’s Yoongi, right?” you asked, tentatively as you entered the room.  

He looked up and nodded. 

You knew Yoongi. Well, you knew of him. He was in your philosophy group. He contributed only when forced to and you had never seen him chatting to anyone either before or after seminars. You assumed he was just some kind of loner loser guy and that was really the first and last you ever thought of him. You didn’t notice him and no one else seemed to either.  

It surprised you that he would volunteer to do this: meet with lazy, unfocused students to bring their grades up. It wasn’t exactly socialising, but it was social. It would involve talking to people. Strangers. Maybe even people he actively disliked. 

You sat around the corner of the table from him and pulled out your notebook, full of half-finished sentences and scribbled notes from lectures. The edges were black with doodles and your first clean page was the one right next to where you had snapped and written ‘FUUUUUUUUCK’ in huge capital letters. You tucked that page to the back and readied your pen. 

“Just so you know,” you started as Yoongi opened his textbook, “I’m not actually like, dumb. I’m fine with the material; I just hate doing the essays, y’know? I’m just too lazy to get around to it, so then, when it’s the night before deadline, I just have to write any old shit to get it done. You know how it is, right? Procrastination nation.” 

Yoongi looked at you, thoughtfully, and it was the first time you’d ever really seen his face. It was nice. He was kind of good-looking actually. You wondered what sort of life he had off-campus. Maybe he just didn’t like the people at school. Maybe he had other friends. A partner? Not that you cared, but you thought, now that you were really looking at him, maybe he could have one. Not bad at all. 

“Lazy?” he asked. 

You nodded, expecting him to say something more. He didn’t.  

“Ok, well...” You spoke for him. “I guess we’re supposed to get my essay on Kant done?” 

You flicked through your notes to see if you’d taken any while Yoongi still just looked at you.  

“What are you views on Kant?” you asked.  

“What are your views on Kant?” he countered.  

You wondered if it was a test. You’d told him you knew the material; it was only reasonable for him to ask for proof.  

The directness of his gaze made you feel a little flustered; the focus of his attention unwavering in a way you found unsettling.  

“Um, well, ok...” 

* * * 

“Guess what I’ve just done,” you demanded as you walked into the private study room two weeks later. 

“What?” 

“I’ve just submitted my Kant thing!” 

Yoongi didn’t look surprised, but he did look pleased. You felt a genuine sense of pride, swiftly followed by an embarrassed guilt that you should feel so proud of something that thousands of other people did with ease every day.  

“Wow,” he said. “And the deadline isn’t for three whole days.” 

“I know!” 

“How do you feel?”  

You didn’t want to tell him how pleased with yourself you were. You knew he had submitted his last week. You didn’t want to let him know that you were pathetic enough to feel a genuine sense of achievement over what you’d done. It was minor. Embarrassingly minor.  

“Good, I guess. Nice to have it out of the way.” 

Yoongi nodded.  

“That’s really great.” 

He smiled at you and you smiled back. If you got a good grade for this essay, you wouldn’t have to come back for tutoring. That alone had almost made you not complete the essay. Yoongi’s presence was soothing and something about being here in this room with him made it easier to focus. You liked studying with him. He mostly kept to himself and let you ask questions when you needed to. It didn’t really feel like tutoring at all, to be honest. He was a study buddy, not a teacher.  

You were surprised how much you enjoyed it, actually, when it really got down to it. Without the screaming panic of a deadline just hours away, you had more time to focus on the content, think about the topic, read about it, dig in. You remembered why you had chosen philosophy in the first place. And, when prompted, Yoongi would talk to you about it, too; your views were often the same, but not always. He was smarter than you, but not by much. 

You met frequently, first in short bursts, then in longer and longer sessions that you often found yourself wishing would last longer. Yoongi was good at sticking to the topic, pulling you back around when your conversation veered into general chat or something irrelevant, which you did more and more each time, because he was nice to talk to, he was interesting; you wanted to know what he thought and what he had to say.  

You also still didn’t know if he had a partner. 

*  

“Aha!”  

You cornered Yoongi in the classroom before he could escape, thrusting your essay into his face. He took it from you and eyed the grade in the corner with a smirk. 

“Well done, you.”  

“Nailed it, mate!” 

“You did.” 

“This means you don’t have to tutor me anymore.” 

He laughed softly. 

“It’s not like I really ever did anything. You said so yourself: you know the material. You never really needed me.” 

Something about that made you feel sad. You had needed him. You would not have been able to do it without him, if all your past experiences were to be relied upon.  

“Well, actually...”  

You had been working up to this. It was the perfect opportunity so you had just been waiting, waiting for your grade, waiting for this open target. 

“I was kind of hoping you might have some time to talk over the next one with me... Not formally, as a tutor, but just... y’know... Like, as a classmate. Or friend.” 

Yoongi blinked rapidly, his mouth slightly open.  

“Uh, yeah. Yeah ok.” 

“Cool. I’ll, um, text you or something and we can set up a time?” 

He nodded. There was a tiny stretch of tension between you, held for just a moment, before he stood from his seat and you straightened up, readying to walk away.  

“I’ll see you... soon, I guess.” 

“Yeah, soon.” 

[bird-inacage]

The Heart Killers: Predictions (Kant as Bison's Keys to Freedom)

Welcome to the first of my speculative brain dumps on this couple. The updated trailer has had my brain theorising like crazy.

Khao has mentioned a few times now that Bison was adopted into his family, and killing essentially became his way of life. Kant then comes along and becomes Bison's escape - a welcome distraction from the violent life he leads.

Whether Kant's undercover objective it to scope for dirt or to take the brothers down, it's through this mission that Kant begins to sympathise with Bison and the circumstances that led him to become a hitman. His feelings will ultimately compromise or derail his original objective. Once everything is out in the open, this doesn't seem to deter Kant. If anything, it only doubles down his resolve to protect Bison from harm. "I just need to know I'll always be with you." "You think I'd go on living if you died?"

We've been told that Kant goes goo-goo eyed for Bison pretty early on. My hunch is that once he finds out the type of life Bison is swept up in and just how dangerous it is, his personal mission will be to try and free him: "I'll help you start over". And if he can't free him in the immediate effect, he'll join him in order to watch his back. "We'll take care of each other. This isn't just an empty promise." Based on the fact he was asked to help with detective work in the first place, Kant must have some pretty handy skills in his arsenal, and likely knows a thing or two about survival.

On that basis, perhaps the real conflict for these two won't be the getting things out into the open, but what Bison chooses to do for his freedom. We don't yet know whether he’s on good terms with his adoptive family. It could very well be that he simply doesn't want to kill, but has too much gratitude towards them for taking him in, that he could never disobey or defy them.

So when Kant tries to find him an out or whisk him away - Bison will then have a choice to make. To leave with Kant, or side with his family. Staying would also mean exposing Kant (who seems eager to protect him) to the same violence he's desperate to leave behind, which may further complicate things. "With the way I live, I can't promise you anything." (I could die tomorrow).

The other thing I would be wary of is in order to 'free' Bison in some way, shape or form (from his supposed crimes and lifestyle), Kant may have to sacrifice or offer something in exchange. Considering he's the one tasked to investigate the two brothers (in order to put them behind bars, I would assume), there's a poetic irony if he turns out to be the key to Bison's freedom. Hearing how Khao loves Kant as a character also speaks volumes to me about his role in the story and what he means to Bison. But I may just be letting my mind run riot.

(Note: very interesting shot in the trailer below. To me, it almost looks like they're doing a 'training' exercise for something. Bison with his gun on Kant whilst he jumps into the sea tied up).

Narratively speaking, I’m not sure how this all of fits into a romcom of all things but I have a feeling Jojo is going to surprise us with his hijinks. Let’s wait and see!

[scrumptiousstuffs]

can you share some moments of khaotung getting flirted by first?

First tends to break out into the giggles whenever he flirts with Khaotung. However, our boy has grown 😏. Plus, First embracing his Kant persona has just been a delight to watch 😉😉😉

Source of video as above

My other favs include:

First stripping off his jacket in front of Khaotung in pretty much every single fanmeet or concerts they have together 🤣🤣🤣 (and Khaotung looking so flustered or trying to cover up his bestie):

Only Friends Fanmeet(s)☝️

LOL Fanfest 2023 (if you want to see the whole stripping moment, press the link!)

And who could forget LOLFanfest 2024!!!!

Plus the following moments:

Rare moment of First giving air kisses to Khaotung (🙃)

The “why are you flirting with my boyfriend” moment during FK x INTER NOVEL 2024

Or First casually just saying the word Boyfriend in front of live event(s)

And, we must never forget the infamous live in 2020 (way before the boys were officially partnered!)

But I’ll again reiterate, their best flirting moments are the bantering they just do so nonchalantly on Twitter 😂 (and making us all feel so single 😉)

I'll finish up with First possessively hugging Khaotung's waist or touching his shoulder/cheek and playing with his accessories (basically every single part of Khaotung cause it's his privilege as his soulmate bestie) 😌

[hurlumerlu]

First Kanaphan's post-Yok characters, and wether or not they would find Yok attractive:

Kant: it's too early to tell, of course, but I have decided Kant did at least one of Yok's tatoos (the mom one). We'll have to update when the show drops, I suppose.

Sand: as previously established, Yok is kinda Sand's type. Had they met pre ofts canon they could actually have developed that famed "friendship that starts from sex" Sand & Ray failed so badly at. Who knows, maybe they did. Post ofts canon they would sadly not have sex.

Alan: I haven't seen Moonlight Chicken but something tells me Alan would only find Yok exasperating. If Alan does work for a bank (I think he does?) then there's no way Yok would learn that and not be a bit of an ass about it, and Alan seems the sensitive kind. Bad match I fear. (neither of them realize they look alike, btw)

Akk: Akk would be SO envious and SO judgy and SO mad that everyone keeps assuming he's this shameless criminal's little brother. He would also be horribly jealous because Ayan thinks Yok is, like, really cool. He'd have at least one wet dream that would send him into yet another guilt-spiral, but would only develop a proper crush if he learned that Yok is a good son who loves his mama very much.

Yok: I don't think mere mortals can comprehend just how pro-clone fucking Yok is.

[respectthepetty]

in today's twitter space, joong was talking about thk's chrs colors and said:

fadel is red then later changes his answer to deep blue

style is a light blue.

khaotung is pink and bison is a vibrant orange

finally, kant starts the show grey and later becomes more of a green.

https://x.com/tertawan_/status/1815452820201677157

WHAT DO YOU THINK THAT MEANS? (Also i KNOW you're proud of joong for knowing that colours mean things!!)

@scrumptiousstuffs posted more of the translation for this section of Joong talking, and now I have a lot of questions for Joong:

Kant being gray feels rights but green? Chill? Harmonious? KANT?! Nah, gray is better.

Fadel works as dark blue more than red since he seems like he will be stern and loyal to a fault.

Style being light blue makes me think Joong just wanted the two blues to link up.

Because I think the person questioning him is correct and Style is passionate red.

Khaotung being pink is 100% correct. No comments. No notes. Excellent pick.

But Bison being orange . . . um? I could see it since he might be overly communicative meaning he will tell all his secrets to Kant.

So I can get behind most of Joong's thoughts in some way, but also, Director Jojo has Cinematographer Rath back for this show, so if there is any color coding in the series, it'll probably be in the lighting and not so much the wardrobe or props.

Either way, I'm excited to see Dunk look like this.

Blessed.

[firstkanaphans]

I could never be an actor, like how can you act scenes like that with your best friend and not ask 'what are we', especially because we know that in Busan like they shared a bed and had the stare moment about who will go into the shower first and like holy. I would fall in love. Like???? Impressive

I see this take a lot and usually my response—even when it’s about FK—is to say that conflating the actors’ feelings with their characters’ feelings undermines their craft. They put a lot of work into making their scenes look realistic so that you do feel that way and to suggest they are only able to do so because there are real feelings between them ignores the sheer magnitude of talent it took to get there.

But having said that…

I, too, am finding it very hard to separate the actor from the craft this time, Anon. Especially in the case of First Kanaphan specifically because those are actual nipple clamps. Those are actual ropes. That is an actual blindfold.

I don’t mean to suggest that what’s happening between FK onscreen is in any way sexual, but the trust it would take to film something like that? You can even tell in that shot of Bison biting Kant’s lip that First wasn’t expecting it. First is always talking about the goosebumps he gets when they kiss. I want to hear him describe these goosebumps!

I’m half inclined to believe that P’Jojo accidentally got FK involved in an irl platonic dom/sub relationship and that’s why they’ve been wilding out the past few months. I mean, First has already said on camera that Khaotung is having a hard time turning Bison off when filming is over. This is just such delicious lore. I can’t wait to see how they try to explain it to us in interviews.

[jeonqkooks]

Can you do a Drabble of Obs where oc gives Jungkook head? yup I’m always looking for smut, I just feel like that could be rly hot and steamy

our beloved summer; a drabble

When Jungkook slides deeper into the warmth of your mouth, he chokes on a needy moan. You glance up at him from your position on the floor, a warning look in your eyes, but not once do you take him out of your mouth to actually scold him.

"Sorry, sorry," he mumbles, his hand smoothing over your hair before he settles on holding the back of your head to guide you down on his cock. "I'll be quiet."

"You better," you mean to say, but it's difficult to make it sound coherent with a mouthful of dick. Nevertheless, you think he gets the idea.

Jungkook bites down hard on his bottom lip as you hollow your cheeks around him, sucking him off with a sense of urgency because, well, the clock is literally ticking.

You've got about five minutes before Taehyung bursts through the library doors to begin his shift, and you really don't want him to witness his two friends doing the nasty right against the paperbacks of Kant and Rosseau.

"Fuck." A low, drawn out moan slips out of his mouth as you work him to an orgasm. Your fingers reach for his balls, tentatively squeezing them the way you know he likes, the way that never fails to make his thighs twitch and his brows knit together.

"Baby," Jungkook sounds like he's on the verge of tears, so whiny and desperate that it makes you squeeze your thighs together, seeking friction because you won't be getting any for another forty minutes when you make it back to your dorm. That is, unless he drags you to an empty supply closet and return the favor. "Close, close, c'mon, keep going..."

His cock throbs in the wet heat of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat every time your lips glide along the length of him. You can imagine what it'd look like if you were to pop him out of your mouth right now - red and angry, leaking and glistening with your spit. You like to think that he would actually cry if you stopped completely and let him leave with a severe case of blue balls and not a single cold shower in sight.

But you like it better when he comes for you and your name falls from his lips like he's forgotten every other word he's ever known, like you've rendered him wonderfully powerless even though you're the only one on your knees.

You can tell that he's on the precipice. Just a little bit more. You glance up at him through your lashes, damp with tears as he tests your gag reflex. He looks down at you, his sharp jawline even more defined now that he has to clench his teeth in order to stay quiet. Tender fingers stroke your cheek as he shallowly fucks into your mouth, meeting you every time you go down on him.

A hollow of your cheeks coupled with a few ruts of his hips and he's done for. His cum shoots down your throat in hot spurts, his heady flavor coating your tastebuds as you do your best to milk him dry until his thighs are shaking.

Jungkook is way up on cloud nine when you release his cock, pressing a kiss against his tip before you get off your knees. You stand up to face him with an accomplished look your face, sticking your tongue out at him to show that you've been a good girl.

There's a quiet chime of a bell that you catch then. Perfect timing.

Jungkook is still far away when you tell him, "Put your dick away. Taehyung's here."

He rolls his eyes but tucks himself back into his jeans regardless, albeit with slow movements. "Give me a second," he says, his voice a little raspy despite having been quiet for the majority of the past twenty minutes. "You sucked the life out of me."

You pat his cheek with a proud smile before you smooth your hair out, trying not to look like Jungkook was grabbing fistfuls of your hair just moments ago.

You walk out with your hand intertwined with his, just in time to catch Taehyung put down his bag and settle into his seat. He looks at the two of you curiously, before he clocks how absolutely flustered Jungkook is and accuses exasperatedly, "Were you guys just making out back there?"

[pet-genius]

"No one deserves to be praised for kindness if he does not have the strength to be bad" - La Rochefoucauld

And is that not just "Snape to a T," as @dementedlollipop had put it while I was contemplating making a meta?

I think I can relate to the concept of goodness vs. greatness in HP that I've been toying with for actual years. The distinction first comes up in Ollivander's shop, IIRC, where Ollivander remarks that Voldemort did things that were "terrible" but "great", which makes Harry uncomfortable. But of course it does, because Ollivander is literally calling his parents' murderer "great". And that word keeps coming up: "You could be great, you know," the Sorting Hat whispers to Harry.

What if Harry's praiseworthiness is not in ending up in Gryffindor, but in choosing his idea of goodness (which was naive, as he was only 11 and his only source of intel was Hagrid)?

Dobby has always known of Harry's greatness, but not of his goodness, because the too things are not the same. The main "lesson" of COS is that our choices make us who we are, but how many 11 year olds are offered the choice? How many children ended up in Slytherin because no one had warned them about that House, because they had no personal stake in where they would be? Harry is not only a Gryffindor but someone who might as well not have been, hence his goodness. Harry constantly grapples with the knowledge that he is actually not special and has no outstanding power, and Dumbledore constantly has to remind him - the power of love. The power of choice. Picture young Snape, torn between the two, with Lily representing an idea of goodness that is increasingly foreign to him as she aligns herself with people he has good reason to despise. On his other shoulder, greatness - as he conceives it - whispers. It might be telling him something like... "There is no good or bad. Only power and those too weak to seek it." Or even something like... "our choices make us who we are. Do you choose to stay weak or come under my wings and learn how to be strong?"

He has every power to be bad, because his tragic life made that path the easier one. At some point, it might have looked like the only option. Certainly Dumbledore would not have humored a young Snape who had never been corrupted to start with, by the way. What glory or greatness could the Order offer him?

Funnily enough, his biggest criticism of James is that he was "mediocre" and "arrogant," neither of which translates directly to a "violent bully" in my eyes. I don't want to make another post about James, but I do think it says a lot about what Snape valued - at least at the time when James had been alive, when Snape probably verbalized his criticisms.

"Ought implies can", Kant tells us, meaning (as I read it) that moral duty arises only when the possibility exists. But we don't deserve praise for merely doing as we ought. Snape deserves praise just as much as deserves condemnation, because his story has always been that of choice between viable options. The option to be good must have seemed less viable when he was a short-sighted and traumatized teenager, but he always had it. Greatness, and goodness, praiseworthiness... belong to the adult we met, the petty and vindictive and still-traumatized and still embittered man who - even after killing Dumbledore, when capitalizing on his strength to be bad could not be easier - still chose the struggle. It feels like a good point to end the meta, except that I read it and I feel ridiculously self-important and like I barely skimmed the surface. I guess the quote in the title just really encapsulates why Snape is so endlessly fascinating, on top of just being, ultimately - good.