#this isn’t coming from an i don’t deserve better lens. i’m saying it like i know how it is. i’m broken. my only good use is carrion.

[ozzyfromthecafeteria]

. sigh,

[comradekarin]

I saw your Beyonce/Taylor Swift post and What's wrong with "comparing two queens that are killing it". line? Isn't that what it comes down to with female artists? Why can't we just appreciate all female artists instead of the competitions?

I’m going to take this as you asking this question in good faith so here’s the short answer: No. There is nothing inherently wrong with that statement, and depending on the context, I agree with it. But here’s the long answer:

A lot of fandoms do take it upon themselves to start unnecessary, unprovoked beef between artists, especially female artists of color (i.e the Cardi and Nicki drama), consequently ruining the love a lot of people have for those artists. However, the Taylor and Beyoncè comparisons have a few problems I want to address that aren’t actually new when talking about female artists of color and their white counterparts. Firstly, the whole comparisons only started because of the uptick of insufferable swifties online discrediting all of the work, effort, and impact Beyoncé has had on people before and today (and Beyoncé fans are simply responding to these ridiculous claims). Secondly, swifties also have a strange tendency to compare her exclusively to objectively better black artists (Beyoncé, Prince, Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, and more) by diminishing their work and influence in order to prop her up. Noticeable so, they never really do this with Taylor’s fellow white peers. It begs the question: Why do so many swifties feel the need to put Taylor on a pedestal by discrediting arguably more popular, influential black and queer artists? While I do agree with the notion that female artists should be celebrated and giving the props they deserve, we can no longer pretend that black artists like Beyoncé don’t have to give twice the effort, twice the dedication, twice the energy, and twice the style in order to be given their credit. Meanwhile, an artist like Taylor is rewarded and worshiped for her white mediocrity and performance activism, never really pressured to perform to the degree other black artists are expected to, or forced to show allyship when it really matters. So for her fans to degrade Beyoncé’s high quality vocals, performance, and production—which has been consistent and improving over the years—and be rightfully told off just to resort to the corny “let’s just celebrate all women” is, in my eyes, the epitome of white feminism.

Taylor’s fans have even admitted that she isn’t the best singer, only marketing herself as a good “songwriter”. Ok, so an artist that can’t sing that well, can’t dance, has easily replicable lyrics we could get from other Indie artists, and has a very specific demographic as her fans is someone to be considered a legend? How is this considered the standard but influential black legends’ work are downplayed and diminished? Why does it hurt swifties to see black women be given their credit? Why does Taylor have to be included in every conversation (I.e the Lizzo situation at the Grammy’s where Taylor Swift fans took Lizzo’s appreciation for Beyoncé as hatred for Taylor or Beyoncé’s success on the renaissance tour being overshadowed by the eras tour). And when called out on this, why do her stans resort back to the fake “just support all women” take?

It’s why I can’t really stand by that one post up here that states we shouldn’t debate over female artists because at the end of the day, “they’re all female artists subjected to the harsh lens of the patriarchy.” That statement ignores the intersectionality present in the topic of female artists’ treatment in the industry. It ignores how the expectations of white female artists more than often than not tend to be different for woc artists. I see the “let’s just all get along” saying as a way to deflect from the valid criticism and complaints people of color have for white artists like Taylor Swift. And considering how Taylor’s online brand is playing victim and being the poor innocent white girl whenever she is called out on something, the behavior her stans exhibit are nothing out of the ordinary.

In summary, I don’t think comparisons between female artists are needed. Especially female artists in entirely different genres of music and style. But I do know a lot white Taylor Swift fans love to play the racism card and then hide behind misogyny to cover their tracks. Once again, something Taylor herself does WELL.

[sokovianfortune]

do you believe that Dr strange 2 did something good for Wanda's character? because...with the billy reveal...it just feels like she died and killed for nothing....it irritates me because she deserves so much better

hi anon! i’m going to preface this by saying that i think i’m in the minority of wanda fans who very genuinely enjoys multiverse of madness, so that very much colors my view in regards to this question and i will very much be answering from this perspective. just. putting that out on the table.

the short answer here is yes, i think in terms of the characters she’s going to be interacting with in the future - particularly agatha and vision - multiverse of madness gave wanda some interesting plot threads to follow. i personally find the idea that she’s going to have people in her life that have also had experiences with a loss of agency via an outside party really intriguing! even if it’s not directly explored in canon, it’s interesting for me to think and write about — especially considering that i think she’d be quick to forgive them and subsequently be forced to reckon with the fact that this is hypocritical if she doesn’t forgive herself.

(although i’m not exactly sure how much this applies to agatha, considering that we haven’t had too much in the way of darkhold lore dropped just yet, but i have to assume we’re getting there eventually!)

also i’m not sure how much i can agree with wanda dying for nothing when she’s very much not permadead! imo as much as i adore agatha all along, it and vision quest probably wouldn’t exist if wanda wasn’t coming back. idk where this notion of “wanda’s side characters are all getting projects but not her” came from but i find it very silly. she is very much haunting this narrative for a reason. they’re literally building her and her family their own little private corner of the mcu.

long answer: i think what people tend to miss most about wanda’s arc in multiverse of madness is that it is a tragedy. for all that she is a villain/antagonist, she’s framed with a lot of sympathy by the narrative. people like to point to her in this movie as an example of the hysterical woman trope and i just. i don’t see it? we spend a lot of time with wanda in MoM. we understand her motivations and despite the things that she does to achieve them, we’re very much supposed to feel sad at the end! there are always going to be contrarians, of course, but frankly, they are just. not worth listening to. people who dislike wanda aren’t magically going to change their minds even if she does everything “right” going forward.

to me, billy having been alive and well in eastview reads the same as wanda not going to look for vision after MoM: it just goes to reinforce how powerful an influence the darkhold was on her mind. judging by the end credits scene in wandavision, i have to assume that the darkhold took the panic and fear of hearing her children cry out to her for help and used that to manipulate her — because otherwise, i can’t imagine her being tempted by any promises of power it might have made her. her children being in danger, though? surely it’s fine if she punches a few holes in the fabric of reality about that. they need her.

and isn’t that scary? how fully and completely this book can take hold of and almost consume someone as powerful as the scarlet witch? so completely, in fact, that any remaining traces of her own family can’t reach her? narratively speaking, i don’t think we’re supposed to look at wanda in MoM through the lens of a hysterical woman any more than we are regan from the exorcist or any other victim of demonic possession. there is something evil puppeteering her from within and we, the audience who loves wanda, are meant to be horrified by how far it’s forced her to fall.

but, and this is the most important part, at the end, wanda breaks free. her will and sense of self are so strong that, when faced with the reality of what she’s done, wanda defies both one of the most corruptive magical forced in our world and a prophecy that is perhaps as old as time itself. she leaves those variants of her boys with their mother and, in her “final” moments, does everything within her power at that moment to set everything she did wrong as right again as she possibly can. she “dies” a hero, even if stephen is the only one who knows it. 

is multiverse of madness what i would have done with wanda in the wake of wandavision? probably not! but i’m not the one calling the shots and, to be honest, if marvel was set on giving her a villain arc, this was probably the best we were going to get. keep all of that stuff contained to one movie where it’s made very clear that wanda is not herself (“it corrupts everything and everyone that it touches — i wonder what it’s done to you.” / “wanda’s gone. she has the darkhold and the darkhold has her.”), give us a few interesting plot threads and send us and her on our merry way to the redemption arc. i much prefer that over dragging it all out over a couple of avengers movies. blegh.

so no, i don’t think the billy reveal changes anything unless you’re one of those chodes on twitter who can’t consume media without constantly pointing out when characters make bad decisions for narrative reasons and harping on about how they would have made smarter ones. which, on the whole, i think is a very silly and childish way to engage with media. if characters didn’t make mistakes and were never wrong, we wouldn’t have stories — not interesting ones, anyway.

i hope this answers your question! i have a lot of feelings about Why Multiverse Of Madness Is Good Actually.

[hausofmamadas]

MURDER HUSBANDS | Wind them up and watch them go (love letter to NBC’s Hannibal)

♫ To the tune of Climbing Up the Walls by Radiohead (with overture by Bruno Battisti D’Amario) ♫

✧

Wow

So I feel like I say this every time. But Mary mother of god, this was a behemoth. By a mile the hardest vid I’ve ever made joke’s on me bc I’m the fucking crackerjack who decided to tack on an whole ass other song as an overture bc why in the name of all cocks would I decide to make anything easy like it’s funny bc I always have an impression of how easy a vid is going to come together when I get the idea, right. And this duo with this song just pbj. So ngl I thought the shit was gonna edit itself. But guess what yall? Radiohead like … makes some intricate, complex-sounding shit stunning revelation, almost as if that’s what they’re fuckinfjsbs known for

HOWMEVER, the day has come, it’s arrived and I’ve looked at this thing for so long now, I sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, cannot tell if it’s good anymore. My last vid, I took a long break so by the end, I had enough time away from it to remember it was at least good. This? This could be visual gobbledygook, mush for your eyes, the equivalent of that shit brown shade you get when you mix too many water colors together.

But likehopefully it’s not and you can pls enjoy this love letter to one of the greatestqueer romances in modern media, which is a bold statement whatever fight me but I can’t think of a queer ship before this in tv/movies where the romance unfolds like any other hetero relationship and queer identity isn’t the focus, which even though I think is important, lbr there’s more to gays than being gay. Like it’s kinda visionary, despite the fact that neither character is explicitly queer, when it becomes clear that they’re in love with each other, no one, in-universe, is pearl-clutching all: EGAD! But Will’s never been with 😱a man😱 before?? How in THE DICKENS could he be in love with Hannibal when I don’t have definitive proof he’s even touched tips with another man let alone been balls deep!!!!!!!! How dare he not have this big, gay awakening for us all to gawk at applaud for!!!!” ?

No, literally every character: Jack, Alana, Bedelia, Margot, Mason, even Will’s wife god bless I cannot remember her name but she deserved better *shakes fist at Will* etc., all acknowledge the transcendent romantic bond btwn them and no one questions it. Well, no one questions it thru the lens of performed queerness. Tbf ppl had a lotta questions about the like probable impending multiple murders which validsisjwh

These are just 2 ppl who’re in love with each other to the point of being uncontrollably homicidal Which like … goals? Like I’ve really wracked my brain and can’t think of another queership that unfolds like every other hetero ass love story. That is to say, where fluidity is more the default, at least to the extent that no one talks about the orientation of either players within the show’s universe. Regardless of whether Bryan Fuller intended that from the start which tbh I don’t think he did but I also don’t think it’s fair to call it queerbaiting. I think he let the story unfold and realized kinda with the rest of us that this was a magical!realism romance and not a crime procedural and by S3 leaned tf into it doesn’t really matter bc the universe in which these two exist to truss each other up like Christmas turkeys aka foreplay symbolizes so much more to me than whatever it was initially invented to be. And if it’s not art, folks, idk what is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Ofc I mean the show is art, not the vid. Vid=potential gobbledygook

✧

✧

taglist: @tofuwildcard @narcolini @ashlingnarcos @drabbles-mc

[jacquelinemerritt]

Dragon Ball Z: Broly - Legendary Super Saiyan Abridged Review

Originally posted September 5th, 2018

It’s difficult to care about such a shallow character, even as he has the trappings of coolness.

I am probably not the right person to review this movie. In fact, I’m not even sure I’m capable of approaching this movie with the critical lens it deserves, because of one simple fact: I do not find the concept of Broly to be inherently cool. And I feel like this movie was written for people who find Broly inherently cool, whether or not they believe that he works as a character in practice.

It’s difficult for me to simply accept Broly as cool, because for me, I tend to only be impressed by a character’s “coolness” when I’ve already seen that there’s more to them than whatever external trappings make them that way, or in the best stories, when what makes a character cool is shown off right alongside their depth.

For a good example, we can just look back at Vegeta, who, to me at least, only ever started to feel badass after we started to see how much of a petulant child he is at his core, and how much he has to struggle to succeed against Freeza and his warriors. Vegeta struggling against enemies he legitimately fears, and coming out successful, is what makes him feel badass, not just his ability to quip off perfect one-liners or keep up his façade of confidence at all times.

Broly’s story prevents him from having any kind of interesting struggle here though, as unlike our heroes, he didn’t gain his power by training, or having close encounters with death; he gained his powers by simply being born into them, and having his Super Saiyan state triggered by hearing the name of a baby he hated.

The immense amount of power Broly wields against our heroes does make him an effective antagonist, I admit, but without a struggle of his own, and without any kind of actual reasonable motivation, Broly simply does not work for me, and I can’t bring myself to care at all about him.

And that’s a problem, because while the movie clearly makes fun of people who think Broly is “so cool” by having Vegeta fawn over him, it still seems to find some value in his character’s existence and coolness, mostly by treating Vegeta’s proclamations of Broly’s coolness as genuine, while having him express frustration at Broly’s shallow motivation.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with Team Four Star liking Broly on some level, of course, but I have so much trouble wrapping my head around the idea that you could have a genuine affection for such a shallow, flimsy character that I end up feeling lost, almost left behind by this movie’s expectation that I am supposed to be interested in Broly on some level. I don’t care about this legendary Super Saiyan, and nothing short of a complete reinvention of his character is likely to ever change that for me.

So it’s probably weird for me to then say that despite not caring about Broly, I still rather enjoy this movie, even if it loses me about halfway through. One weak character does not a movie break, and the movie is at its best when its focusing on the much better defined characters we all know and love.

Korin and Yajirobe’s wedding reception is very sweet, as is Goku’s horribly inept attempt to get Gohan into a good college. I also love how effectively Paragus plays to Vegeta’s ego, leading him to New Vegeta with ease by simply referring to him as a king, ultimately earning the role of Vegeta’s Royal Vizier through schmooze alone. There’s also the running gag of calling Trunks a princess and using she/her pronouns for her, which is a good time because misgendering cis people is always a good time, especially since Trunks clearly isn’t that bothered by it in the first place.

And I would be absolutely remiss if I failed to mention the Shamoians, a diminutive race of lifestyle submissives, who willingly subject themselves to slavery and beatings, simply because they get off on it. Reframing these aliens as consenting to their treatment opens up a lot more avenues for comedy than If they were played straight, and Team Four Star consistently toes the line between pointing out how absurd this concept is, and being respectful of their collective love for a slavery kink.

Most importantly though, we’re shown that these aliens ultimately do have boundaries, as while they at first salivate over the idea of Broly treating them cruelly, when it’s clear that he’s going to endanger their safety, they scramble to remember their safe word, making it clear that his actions are no longer something they consent to. It’s funny because they’ve been submissive so long that they’ve forgotten their safeword, but it also serves to reinforce the idea that their exchange of power was only okay because of their active consent, an idea that is absolutely essential to ethically practicing kink.

It’s small moments like these, Goku’s search for the person who killed South Galaxy, and Piccolo’s dismay at Gohan possibly not getting into his preferred school, that keep this movie interesting for me, and while I will probably never be able to enjoy Broly as a character, thanks to the other characters still being excellently portrayed, I don’t feel like I have to. One legendary Super Saiyan is enough for this girl, after all.

Rating: 3.5/5

Critical Eye Criticism is the work of Jacqueline Merritt, a trans woman, filmmaker, and critic. You can support her continued film criticism addiction on Patreon.

[notaplaceofhonour]

The question of justifiability is strange. Oppression doesn't justify these things, but cultivates it. Your morality isn't just what you would or wouldn't do, right? "X or Y hurt me, so I must hurt them." isn't the lone thought that leads to someone justifying an attack, bad things are bad, but not everyone will be able to develop that frame of reference for morality.

Imagine someone being starved, deprived of food, water, heat, left to rot with the bare mininum in a cage with their only human contact being violence. The question of their retaliation would usually be framed with the question of whether or not it's justfied, a lot of people would say yes, I guess. But does framing it that way actually make the situation any better? Because you could say that it'd be justified if it was bare mininum self-defence, but is someone who has lived in that way actually going to be someone who even developed their ability to idk think about those things?

I'm willing to bet that when it comes to mental illness that you probably understand that someone's actions don't exist in a vacuum, right. Sorry.

Part One:

I understand that individuals’ actions don’t exist in a vacuum. In fact that’s a large part of why so many of the responses I’ve gotten to this subject are so upsetting and have severely impacted my mental health. (I’ll get to that more in “Part Two”)

I’m not interested in framing things only in terms of justifiability, but I also don’t think that’s a framework that can be totally disregarded—it’s still an important lens to employ when talking about any conflict.

And you mention mental illness. Sure, that doesn’t exist in a vacuum, but if a mentally ill person rapes someone or murders them I believe it’s necessary to not give them the power or opportunity to continue to do that. They deserve care for their illness, a safe place for them to heal, & respect for their autonomy & dignity. But they do not deserve people turning a blind eye to the abuse or enabling them in it, right?

So it’s important to recognize when that happens so that it can be prevented.

And I’m not disagreeing with the idea of understanding Hamas’ actions in part as a product of Palestinian trauma, but we can’t shrink that discussion of context to one group or brush aside how these actions are part of a cycle that is creating more violence & trauma for both Palestinians and Israelis—as well as broader Jewish, Arab, and Muslim communities.

As if Israel’s excessive violence isn’t also a product of trauma. As if both Palestinians and Israelis didn’t enter the conflict severely traumatized by a lot of similar things, and haven’t continued to traumatize each other over and over throughout the conflict.

Not to mention, another problematic aspect of this shrinking of context in these asks & comments that lay the actions of Hamas at the feet of Israel is that it treats Palestinians like they don’t have free will, as if they’re animals or a force of nature who don’t know better or can’t avoid committing atrocities. And that’s dehumanizing. They can—and most of them do. Most Palestinians are not doing what Hamas is doing. Plenty hate Hamas, and are regularly traumatized by them.

Israel is not an all-powerful puppet master or the source of all problems in this conflict. It has more power, but it’s not the only entity with any agency here. There is absolutely a cycle of violence where Hamas is motivated by trauma from Israel’s violence, and Israel is motivated by trauma from Hamas’s violence—and it goes on and on and on.

Part Two:

I need you to understand that the context of me talking about Israel-Palestine this week (my post about Hamas) was seeing a bunch of leftists swallowing & regurgitating tropes that come from ancient antisemitic libels, and these leftists insisting that Israelis can only be understood as colonial invaders (nay, even comparable to Nazis) who forfeited their right to live by settling in Israel, while Palestinians can only be understood as victims who must be given carte blanche to expel Israelis from the region “by any means necessary” (which for Hamas, does not exclude genocide). The context of my post was leftists being ignorant and acting like we should turn a blind eye to anything bad Hamas does and enable them in it, and leftists saying a bunch of heinous, antisemitic shit. So I made a post telling leftists: don’t do that.

Anything anyone has said to me about Hamas or Israel or Palestine since is said in the context of me telling leftists who are saying antisemitic shit and want to give power to an organization that has not been shy about what it will do with that power why it’s a bad idea to get in bed with them and lift them up as heroes who need to be given that power.

So surely you can understand how upsetting it is for me to be facing a bunch of antisemitism, for me to say “hey, let’s support the Palestinians in a way that doesn’t make my life dangerous here and enable genocide against my people there” and then to be flooded with hundreds of people telling me to kill myself, that every Israeli deserves to be shot, that Jews control the media and banks, that I’m part of a conspiracy to deflect attention away from Israel’s crimes, that I didn’t mention [thing I said multiple times], that I didn’t take into account [thing I clearly am taking into account], that I wasn’t hard enough on Palestine, that I wasn’t hard enough on Israel, that I’m too hard on both of them, Israelis telling me they’re worried about their friends and family who are missing and presumed dead, and then people like you coming up and being like “yeah, but what about context?” or “okay that sucks, but like… why are you surprised? it’s Israel’s fault”

If you want to talk about context, that is the context you are entering here. So please understand why my patience with this line of philosophizing is paper thin.

[alessiopetti01]

best boudoir photographers in melbourne

Let’s start with the obvious – it's something you deserve!

Boudoir is a French word that translates to a woman’s bedroom or private sitting room. So, does a Boudoir Photoshoot mean bedroom photoshoot? Not by a long shot. Let’s talk about it.

At Le Chat Noir Boudoir, I define boudoir as an empowering experience that allows women to find confidence, beauty, and power in their own skin. Boudoir is a very personal and intimate form of photography. It is an artistic expression in which you allow your photographer to transform you into a living canvas. Each photo expresses stories of self-love, self- discovery, and the re-discovery of the woman within.

It is my ultimate goal to ensure that you embrace boudoir as not just a photoshoot, but an experience. The encounter that you will have with the woman behind the lens will amaze you. You will not leave my studio the same woman in which you came. I’m here to cheer you on every step of the way of your journey.

So Why Should I Do A Boudoir Session?

Let’s start with the obvious – you deserve it! YES, I said it. You deserve it. You’re present, showing up every day for life, and all the responsibilities that come with it. You’ve earned it! If that isn’t convincing enough, here’s a few more reasons:

1.IT’S A GREAT GIFT IDEA FOR YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER

Whether you’re getting ready to tie the knot, celebrating an anniversary, birthday, or commemorating any other special moment, this will be a classic gift and a great lifetime memory.

2.MARKING MILESTONES!

Every decade is a milestone. Many women love to capturetheir milestones from the ’20s to the infamous half-century marker of 50 and beyond. The age milestone doesn’t stand by its lonesome. With the strides many women are making these days dropping and keeping their weight off, this is a great way to show off that progress and strut your stuff. We’re marking those weight loss milestones too!

3.SHOPPING!!!

So you love to shop? Here’s a great excuse to do what you love and grab some lingerie while you’re at it. It’s a great time to add to your current collection or start one if you haven’t already. Once you get started, you’re sure to get lost in the array of sexy options available for every shape, size, and curve.

4.THERE’S A REMNANT OF HEALING.

If you’ve recently gone through a trauma and survived, there’s cause for a celebration. What better way to celebrate this moment than to unveil yourself in all of your empowered and liberated glory?

How Do I Find The Right Photographer?

Great news, if you’re reading this blog, you most likely already have!!!

If you’re in greater Melbourne or any of the surrounding areas, my team and I would love to guide you through this empowering experience. If you’re interested in having your photographer travel to you, I do that too!

Once you’ve made a decision that you’re ready to take this amazing journey, it’s important to find the right photographer. Here are some key points to consider in your search:

• Does my photographer give me a sense of comfort and trust? • Is their work good quality? Are their supporting “real” reviews? • Do they have experience posing my     , and size? • Are they local to me? • Are they available? or are they booked too far out? • Does their brand match my values and how I want to be photographed?

At Le Chat Noir Boudoir, our first meeting is an introduction to establish a sense of comfort, trust, and understanding. To make sure you are as comfortable as possible before the day of the shoot, I do my best to cover all the bases of what you can expect. I introduce you to the spaces you’ll be shooting in, give you a glimpse of what your day will be like, and give you a chance to sit down with me and ask all your questions. Even the tough stuff! Remember, this is all about you!

What do other women say about their Boudoir Sessions?

With my love for boudoir, I could go on for hours about why every woman should book a session. The best part is you don’t have to just take my word for it. Check out some of these amazing testimonials and live videos from clients who’ve had the experience!

[venusguks]

Unlike You

pairing : jeon jungkook x fem!reader

summary : As daydreamy and romantic as you are, you decided true love was going to have to wait for you tonight. That was because tonight, you were getting laid !! ...Your best friend doesn’t make it easy for you when he finds out why, though.

warnings : smut, dom!jk, sub!reader, unprotected seggs, fluff, bsf!jk, degredation, dumbification, possessive jk, jealous jk, fun sexy times, jk is whipped for mc, oral (fem receiving), body worshipping, jimin/reader but only for a sec

“A club?” Jungkook raised his brow.

He was incredulous and slightly displeased as he watched you pace around your room. It was rare after all, new to see you like this―in a black, satin dress with a slit high enough to make him upset. He didn’t need you catching anyone else’s attention, especially in a neon lit bar full of ravenous people.  “For the seventh time, yes, Kook,” You huff, jarring your mouth slightly to dab a dreamy red over your plush lips. 

You couldn’t recall the last time you felt so confident as you applied mascara and tickled a delicate pink over your cheeks. More than anyone, Jungkook couldn’t recall ever seeing you this way, this excited to be amidst a crowd of sweaty bodies. You honestly didn’t see why he was being so apprehensive, it wasn’t like you necessarily hated parties―you just always preferred the coziness of your home better. Huge social interactions were never your thing, and that was okay. Being an introvert wasn’t something to be ashamed of anyway, but staying in came with the everyday comforts of baggy sweatpants and sweaters.

So could anyone really blame you for your excitement? You just loved the way getting ready made you feel, missed it. You already knew you were beautiful with or without makeup, but damn did it make you feel confident.

“It’s just...” Jungkook furrowed his brows and ruffled his hair. “This isn’t like you, love. Did something happen? Are you okay? We can talk about it, if you want. Whatever it is, I’m here to listen you know.” 

You sighed exasperatedly at your best friend’s reflection through your vanity. His eyes were uncertain and full of concern as he watched your figure with crossed arms. “Koo, we’ve been over this so many times already. I’m nervous enough as it is, and you’re not helping at all. I want to do this, okay? It’s been awhile. Plus, I haven’t seen the others boys in so long.”

A part of you didn’t want to be annoyed at Jungkook for his incessant worrying, but it truly was hard not to sometimes. “You’re being such a fucking dick, you know that?! Can’t I just live my life without you being so fucking hysterical about it every time?! ” It was that winter a few months ago when you unleashed all your pent up frustration. Jungkook had always been overprotective, and you appreciated him for caring, but he just made it so hard for you to even breathe sometimes. It was the biggest argument you guys ever had when you started dating a boy a few years older. You ignored Jungkook’s calls and messages for weeks, but when you discovered that he cheated on you, Jungkook was the first to be by your side. You still remember the assurance and safety you felt in his arms; with his soft lips against your forehead, murmuring sweet consolations as you sobbed on his shoulder. After that day, Jungkook agreed to be less protective. 

“I just don’t get why it has to be a club. We could meet the hyungs anywhere else, baby.”

“Oh sure, maybe a strip club would do,” you said, chuckling when you see his shock. “I’m kidding, Koo.” Though that wouldn’t be such a bad idea...

Maybe you couldn’t blame him for being so appalled. You usually opted out whenever your friends went out to celebrate, which by the way, was rather often. Night after night, the few of them would call you, practically beg until they realized their efforts would end in vain. By the morning, notifications would spam your phone of their wild night; pictures and details that showcased hookups you didn’t need to know about. Now that you think about it, it was sort of ironic that you’d always grimace to the crude texts.

That was because tonight, you decided you were getting laid.

That’s right, to hell with sweet, wholesome love! If true love had to make you wait, true love would have to wait for you too! Your subscribing 48K readers have been expecting a new chapter of Spring’s Breath, an erotica series, which you’ve delayed for 2 whole months now. You didn’t exactly know when your writers block came, but by the fourth hour you stared at your blank screen, unable to come up with any other synonym for dick or thrust or moan; or how the overused dirty talk you wrote made you cringe―you realized the firecracker you had in writing erotica died out.

It was your dear friend, Hoseok, who suggested the whole ordeal. He was the only one who knew your secret, anyway. You had so much trust in him, so when he professed that maybe if you slept with someone, your spark would come back, you had truly considered it. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. After all, no cons would come out of it. It was just odd to think about.

You have always been such a huge romantic, your literature proved it. Jungkook nor you nor anyone would anticipate you hooking up with someone just to hook up with someone. The tenderness, the connection, the intimacy... you’ve always prioritized genuine adoration over whimsical one night stands. You were an honest daydreamer, and maybe that’s why your works would always take off.

But maybe... maybe it was okay to let go once in awhile.

When you mentioned Jungkook being less overprotective, you forgot to put an emphasis on less―because there he was, his hand possessively squeezing your inner thigh every time you even dared to look at a cute boy. You let out a frustrated sigh when he nuzzles his nose into your neck.

You tried not to mind it. It was just in his nature anyway―ever since kindergarten when he found you crying over your dropped ice cream. Jungkook left only to come back with another cone, rubbing your fat tears away with the palm of his sleeve. In elementary school, he peppered you with tiny kisses when you sobbed over the death of your kitten. You’ve only had him for a month, dedicated all your time to him and skipped play dates to care for your little serendipity―but just like that―he was lifeless. It was Jungkook who found him on the road. In middle school, he’d go through the enveloped confessions in your locker and rip them apart, saying you deserved better than any of them. You’ve always looked up to him througha lens of admiration. Everything he did for you, he did it out of thought and care. It was sweet.

It was times like these where you really started to mind though. 

You’ve been giggling with your friends for the past hour, catching up on every minuscule detail. You were sitting in a booth wedged in the middle of Jungkook and Hoseok, brimming with happiness to see Namjoon and Yoongi again. Its been so long, and your heart would swell to the stories you’ve missed out on.

The night was carrying on delightfully! ...except for the fact that Jungkook sent death glares to whoever even glanced at you. The countless of times you shyly returned someone’s gaze, only for them to rush away when they caught sight of your best friend left you agitated. When the boys were engaged in a conversation about a class they all shared together, you decided it was a good time to bring it up. 

Gulping a shot down, you let out a huff. “Kookie...”

“Yes, baby?” He whispered into your ear, his large hand grazing the access of your slitted dress.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what, love?” You sharply inhaled as Jungkook rubbed sensitive circles on your skin.

Immediately standing up, you squeezed yourself out of the booth. “I’m gonna go dance!” You yell through the loud music, avoiding Jungkook’s eyes, because seriously, the nerve of that man! The rest of your friends cheered, “We love to see you like this, y/n! Enjoy yourself, cutie!” Hoseok laughed when you blew a kiss to him. He made you feel so much more at ease, so much more confident. Okay, you got this! No use in sitting around. You couldn’t get anywhere tonight with Jungkook by your side, anyway.

Fluffing out your hair after you downed another shot, you strut your way into the dance floor. Your hips swayed in a rather alluring manner as you made your way into the crowd, your fingertips tracing seductive lines from your hips up to your waist, your neck and finally, into the air. The alcohol slowly took its effect as your confidence settled in, rolling your head back and moving your body fluidly to the loud music. 

Truth be told, you didn’t know what you were doing, just knew you must’ve looked good as hell doing it as you felt hands grip your waist. You gasped as a body pressed against your back, sticky with sweat.

“You’re so captivating, princess,” His dulcet voice was enough to make you weak...or was it the alcohol? Whatever the case, get your grip together y/n! It was just four words for star’s sake! 

“I, um, th-thank you...um! You too..” Your confidence from only moments ago dissolved with your voice. “So shy now, princess? How come? You were dancing so sexily just moments ago.” He chuckled lowly against your ear, nibbling it. You whimpered to his brazen touch, his hands guiding your hips with his. “Are you shy for me? Is that it? What a cute little princess you are... so beautiful, fuck.”

Annnnnnnnd you truly were fucked. You professed only hours ago that true love could wait, that you’d be a different woman tonight, yet you couldn’t help but feel bashful to the man’s praise. His voice and his nectar sweet words enough to make you feel wobbly.

“I’m Jimin. Can I know my princess’s name?” He pressed his hardened member against your ass, the silk thin fabric barely doing its job of coverage. “Ah Jimin,” you moaned breathlessly as he kissed your neck. “I...I’m-”

“―Mine,” a low, husky voice finished. Jungkook stood behind you, jaw clenched and arms crossed. The veins on his biceps protruded under the incandescent lights; His white shirt and tight, black jeans doing wonders to complement his physique. 

“Are you deaf? I said she’s mine so why the fuck are your hands still on her?” Jungkook had always been intimidating, even when he didn’t try―so in the rare times he did, even he scared you sometimes.

Much to your disappointment, Jimin immediately lets go, hands in the air, “sorry man, I didn’t know.”

“W-what? Wait, he isn’t my...!” Before you could try to reach for the pink haired man, Jungkook firmly takes your hand. “Y/n, we’re leaving.” You didn’t even have a second to feel shocked before he swiftly guides you through the ocean of bodies. Loud music reverberated with your disappointment, and by the time the night’s cold air stings your cheeks, you've processed what just happened―what you just missed. It’s when Jungkook latches your seatbelt on and drives that you feel anger simmer in your chest.

“Why did you...Why the fuck did you do that, Jungkook?” You were exasperated with your emotions. You just didn’t get it. You were finally having the time of your life, finally stepping out of your comfort zone, finally dancing with a guy who made you feel amazing―just to end up on a drive back home before anything could happen. “Seriously, what the hell is your problem? That was my..! He was..!” You groaned, too frustrated to conjure up words.

Jungkook scoffed, “what, y/n? He was what? Your soulmate or something?”

“I didn’t say that! And even if I think so, why does it matter?! I was having fun! I was having so much fun and you just..! (hiccup) I was having so much fun....” You cried into your hands. “I haven’t felt that way in so long, j-just for you to mess everything up. God, I can’t even muster up words right now. I hate you so much.”

“Love...” Jungkook finally sighed, shutting the engine off. You had cried the whole ride home. The anger he once felt diminished with your tears. “Baby, please look at me.” 

“F-fuck (hiccup) off, Jungkook.” You quickly unbuckled your seatbelt and opened the car door. Knowing him as long as you did, you knew he would take your chin to force you to look up at him―but you had enough of him for the night, and honestly, the whole week.

You were just so fucking frustrated at everything. At Jungkook for unnecessarily budging in, at your writers block, at your own sexual frustration left with Jimin. What did you have to offer your readers now? A heartbreak of a possible relationship that never happened with a shitty friend on the side?

You tuned out Jungkook shouting from behind you, striding to you complex and up the stairs.

It wasn’t long after you slammed the door shut that you heard it click open again. You had forgotten Jungkook had an extra spare of your keys. “Just leave me alone, Kook.” You groaned, storming off into your room.

You kicked your heels off and stomped to your bed, taking out your frustration on your pillow where your sobs were muffled. The bed dips down when Jungkook sits beside you, silent as he caressed your hair in the way he always did to soothe your nerves.

Deciding it wasn’t enough this time, he carefully lifts you up to sit on his lap, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you into his chest. Jungkook knew you long enough to know hugs were the best remedy for you, even at your angriest moments. He knew you wouldn’t push him away.

“You jerk...” You buried your face into the crook of his neck, sniffling. “I don’t get you, Kookie. Why do you always do this?”

“I...I just wanted to protect you, baby. People have bad intentions, I didn’t want to see you end up doing something you’d regret,” His voice was gentle, brushing hair strands away from your face.

“Stars, Kook, I knew what I was doing. Whether I’d end up regretting it or not, that’s for me to sort out. I didn’t need you to ‘protect’ me. I was really enjoying myself, something I haven’t done in a long time. A-and you just..! You ruined it for me.”

Jungkook scoffed, “so you liked it then, how he was touching you? You were just going to let him fuck you?”

“Yes, Kook!” You yelled. “He could’ve fucked me in the public bathroom or in his car―in front everyone for all I care! He was hot and we were in the moment and you just interrupted! I know you care for me and I’ll always appreciate you worrying but there’s a fine line where your protectiveness should be. I’m not a kid anymore, Kook.”

Jungkook was gritting his teeth, and the two of you only glared at each other before he let out a sigh. Despite him wanting to be mad, he didn’t like making you upset. If you were going to cry because of him, he wanted it to be for an entirely different reason. 

He gently cupped your cheeks, holding your gaze with tender, sad eyes. “You know I’d do anything for you, yes? That I’ve always done anything and everything I could to help you?”

You furrowed your brows, unsure of how that related to anything, but nonetheless, you nod. “Yes, I know Kook.”

“Then why didn’t you just ask me to sleep with you, hm? If you needed help so bad, why didn’t you just ask me, baby?” You stared, dumbfounded and mouth ajar as his thumbs brushed the remnants of your tears away.

“W-What are you...?”

“Was so concerned for my baby. Hoseok got drunk and told me everything I needed to know. Did you know how hurt I was? How Hoseok knew something about you that I didn’t? Especially that you were a writer, love. I thought I was your number one, how could you keep that from me?”

“O-Of course you are, Koo! You’ll always be my number one. I just...didn’t want to tell you because it was embarrassing,” you mumbled, glancing away. Damn it Jung Hoseok! After all these years, this is when he accidentally slips it out? “Nuh uh, baby, I’m not having any of that. Look at me.”

Jungkook pressed his forehead against yours, an act you were certainly no stranger to, but nevertheless making your cheeks warm. “Not only that, you wanted to go clubbing tonight just to find a stranger to help you, is that right, baby? Wore this tiny dress just so someone could fuck you? Wanted Jimin to fuck you? Wanted to write about him fucking you in the bathroom stall?” Jungkook was speaking softly, though his words were anything but as his hands left your cheeks to trace sensuous lines up your thigh.

Your hands weakly held onto his shoulders, gasping when you felt his bulge press against your sensitive core.

“What was that you said....In his car? Wanted him to fuck you in front of everybody? Wanted to be a dirty slut just for your readers?” You didn’t know how exactly this moment came to be, but his honeyed voice brought you to a daze as you grind your hips against him. You were desperate to feel more—of anything, of him—only to let out a whine when he forcefully holds you down, burying your clothed center into his bulge. 

“I don’t think so, baby. I don’t think you deserve it,” Jungkook’s hot breath tickled your ear. You whimpered as he bit it, hands squeezing your hips. “You used to be so good for me baby, used to come to me for anything. Used to be a good little girl and depend on me. I would’ve helped you, baby. Instead, you became a dirty little slut, let another man touch you. Is that what you are now? A fucking slut?”

“N-no Kookie,” a new bundle of tears welled in your eyes at his harsh words. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sh-should’ve, ah, went to you,” you felt your body succumb to his touch. His nose brushed your jaw, placing warm kisses all over your neck before he glided his tongue down to your collarbone. “Please forgive me, I-I’ll be a good girl for you now, p-promise.”

“Yeah? Wanna be a good girl for daddy?” Jungkook licks the base of your collarbone before sucking it. “Yes..ah, yes daddy. Gonna be so good for you.” 

“And yet you weren’t,” you cried as you felt teeth sink into your skin. “J-Jung― ah, Kookie stop! Please i-it hurts!”

“You deserve this, fucking slut. You know how much you hurt me tonight? You’re secretly just a desperate whore, aren’t you? Missed your tiny cunt getting fucked so much that you’d let a stranger do it for you, hm? Answer me, slut.”

You felt tears drip down your eyes, embarrassment washing over your face. “What? You’re not going to speak now?” You shook your head in desperation. You couldn’t. How could you? It was too shameful.

You yelped when Jungkook picked you up by your waist and turned you over so your face was smushed into a pillow. “Ass up, now. Don’t make me repeat myself.” He snarled, and you immediately obliged. Jungkook was on his knees, eyes lidded to your position as he rubbed slow circles on your bare ass. “My slut is voiceless now, hm? Begged to be daddy’s good girl but can’t even answer when I talk to you. Why are you being so disobedient tonight, baby?” It happened so fast you could barely gasp as your body lurched forward to the slap. It repulsed through your skin as your right cheek stung with a faint red.

“J-J-Jungkook, ah!” You cried as another slap came, face burying further into your pillow. “I’ll be obedient from now on! s-so please! I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry, daddy!”

Jungkook’s lips pulled to a smirk, grabbing a bundle of your hair before pulling you towards him. You whimpered and he bent down so he could see your face, tisking. “Oh, my poor baby. Did that hurt? Want to be a good little girl for daddy now?” You nodded ferociously, “p-please yes daddy! I-I’ll be so good for you. Please let me be good for you!” 

Jungkook’s dick felt constrained in his tight pants. He licked his lips to your messy, desperate state. Your eyes were red and puffy, lips just the same as heavy tears streamed down your eyes. Fuck, what Jungkook would give to fuck you senseless right then and there. But no, he needed to wait, needed to be patient. You deserved this.

“Make up your fucking mind, slut. If you want to be a good girl, then take your punishment like a good girl,” Jungkook pushed your face back into the pillow before slapping your ass once more. 

You didn’t know how long it went on, only knew the room was filled with your sobbing and the alarming sound of the contact that met your bruised skin. It hurt, it hurt so much. Your thighs were trembling and both your cheeks were a lovely shade of red and purple. But no matter how much you screamed your endless arrays of i’m sorry’s, Jungkook didn’t fail to notice how your juices soaked your underwear and spilled down your thighs

“Already making such a mess baby,” He groaned to the sight, palming himself to his creation. 

“P-please....hurts so bad...please let me l-lay down daddy, can’t hold myself much longer, please,” Jungkook adored the way you sounded for him, the way he corrupted you. You were perfect there, so perfectly powerless under him. 

“Mm, keep begging baby and maybe I’ll let you,” he unbuckled his pants and discarded them, his cock throbbing to your feeble pleads. “Please, please, p-please, please daddy... please. Hurts so bad, I-I can’t... please i-i’m a good girl. I’m a good girl for daddy. I’ll do anything please.”

“Did you learn your lesson, then?”

“Yes, I-I did, daddy!”

“You’ll be a good girl and obey daddy from now on?”

“Mhm!” You nodded vigorously, and Jungkook chuckled to your desperation. He peeled your soaked thong down, lifting your limp legs momentarily to pull it off until he set you back. You were so tired you felt your thighs give up on you right then, but before you could submit to your exhaustion, Jungkook lifted your ass up higher, arching your back deeper with one hand.

“Mm I don’t think so baby. Obey daddy and keep your ass up like a good little girl.” A gasp left your quivering lips when you felt Jungkook’s breath on your throbbing core.

“You smell so sweet baby, so fucking wet for me,” Jungkook hikes your dress up and glides his tongue up your inner thigh, wiping your dripping juices clean. “Kookie, mm, please,” he trails delicate kisses over your skin, nibbling it. “Yes, baby?” 

“P-please...please Kookie..!”

“Use your words, baby. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.” Jungkook smiles against your thigh as he hears your soft sniffles muffled by the pillow. His poor baby, always so shy. It was true he loved to tease you, tempt you, and loved making you cry for him—but more than anything, he wanted to take care of you. “Please touch me, Koo, please.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” A sharp shiver crawls across your skin when your pleads are obliged, moaning as Jungkook stuffs his face into your cunt. He kisses your clit softly. One, two, three times before sucking it with his plush lips. His hands were the only thing keeping you up now because you practically melted to the touch. The way his tongue rolled over your sensitive bud already having you see stars. “Ah...feels so good, Kookie.”

“Yeah? Would it feel even better if I do this?” He easily slides his middle finger into your slippery hole, slowly pumping in and out. “O-oh...oh my god, more please.”

“Anything for you baby, but first,” a whimper escapes your lips when you feel him leave you, that is until Jungkook swiftly but gently flips you over so you’re finally laying on your back.

Jungkook’s breath hitches to the sight of you below him, frozen for a moment to the aching pull of his heart.

“You’re so pretty baby, so pretty,” Jungkook’s voice was sweet and smooth as he helped you undress. Fuck, did you know how much you pained him? How much he held back for you, all these years, in this moment? It was so hard not to take you right then, to kiss you until you couldn’t breathe, to touch every single part of you with his lips.

Jungkook has fantasized about you ever since he could remember, but you truly went beyond his imagination. You were so fucking beautiful. 

“...so pretty here,” he kisses your cheeks and your jaw, down to your neck. “And here,” he kisses the valley between your breasts, his hands trailing down your curves. “And here,” your stomach...and finally, taking your clit back into his mouth.

“The prettiest cunt baby, dripping so much for daddy,” he murmurs. His tongue rolls around your clit, pumping two fingers in and out of your slick pussy. It was all too much, the sensations overwhelming your senses as ungodly moans escape your mouth. You felt fuzzy and almost light headed, reaching down to hold Jungkook’s curls.

Your back arches and tears stream down your eyes from the intense pleasure exhausting you, his fingers curling into your sweet spot mercilessly. “Do you like this baby?”

“Love it so much, Jungkook,” You moaned breathlessly, looking down at him through your tears and ... wow. 

Jungkook’s brows were creased as he focused on his tongue devouring your wet cunt, plunging his two fingers steadily in and out of you. His bangs were sticking to his forehead, glossed with sweat while your hands curled around the rest. 

You were taken aback with your emotions. Was it strange, how timid you felt then? Doing this with him was supposed to be sinful, yet for some reason, it felt anything but at that moment.

It was the fact that Jungkook looked so intent, so concentrated in making you feel good. How Jungkook showed his care for you, how he always did, how he was doing right now, cherishing you with his best effort. He wanted to give you the best experience he could, wanted nothing more than to make you feel good.

It was unbearable how much your heart swelled for him.

A knot tied in your stomach, and as if noticing your stare, his eyes flutter open to look at you.“Hm, does baby wanna cum now? You can do it love, cum for daddy.”

With that, you came undone in Jungkook’s mouth. Your cries filled the room, and Jungkook opened your hole wider with his fingers, devouring your cream. The sound of slurping made your cheeks heat with an impure red. “That’s my girl, so good for daddy. So sweet for me baby, so beautiful.”

When you went limp in his arms, he gives your lips one last sweet kiss before standing on his knees. Jungkook smiles at the sight of you, already so fucked out even when he was no where near finished with you. 

He crawled forward, his forehead resting over yours once again. “Did that feel good, sweetie?” You nod shyly, your chests heaving up and down together. With rosy cheeks, you weakly bring your hands up to trace his jaw. “Jungkook?”

“Yes baby?” You melted to his dulcet voice, keeping his loving gaze. It held so much affection, so much adoration for you, you wondered why you never realized it.

“Kiss me, please.”

Jungkook smiles warmly. Without hesitation, he takes your lush, sweet lips in his. It was gentle, a kind of kiss that was so tender it made you warm with reassurance. You were kissing Jungkook—your silly, annoying, bratty, and all the while, lovable best friend of 20 years. It was strange and odd but more than anything, it felt so, unmistakably right.

You took Jungkook by surprise when you deepened the kiss, your hand squeezing his hair. He chuckled softly, pulling himself back momentarily to look into your eyes. “I love you,” he whispers.

Your cheeks heat up, but you fight your timidness as you smile back, “I love you too, Kookie.” 

With that, Jungkook delves back into your lips. A kiss that wasn’t so delicate this time. Rather, untamed and furious, as if Jungkook wanted to show you how much, how long he’s wanted this all this time.

You moaned into him as his hands groped your breasts, fingers twirling your perky nipples. “Jungkookie,” you hold your breath, feeling his clothed cock press against your core. “Fuck me please. Please, I need you so bad.”

“Yeah?” He lowers himself to take a nipple into his mouth. “Tell me how much you want it baby.” He flicked, swirled, and sucked it with his tongue, alternating with the other.

“W-Want it so bad daddy. Please, n-need you to fuck my wet pussy mm, daddy please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he grins and sits up, pulling his shirt over his head, discarding his boxers and...

Oh.

Your breath hitched, blinking at Jungkook’s huge, painfully hardened cock. His tip was pink with sticky, white precum dribbling down his long member. It slightly pretruded up and its veins throbbed as if it’s been aching. And truly, he was. He’s been aching to feel your walls wrap around him for so long. You have no idea how hard he’s been trying to hold himself back for you. How painful it was to—and now, seeing you there, perfect and pretty, so shy and red just for him, Jungkook wasn’t sure he could anymore.

Jungkook needed you. He needed you getting stuffed full of his cock right now.

“I-Its so big...” You gulp as he centers himself in between your legs. “I know baby, so big and ready for your tiny cunt. Can you be a big girl and take it for me baby, hm? Let daddy fuck you until he’s satisfied? Let him use you like the little cock slut you are?”

“Y-yes daddy,” you whimper as he rubs his slick tip against your soaked, smooth cunt, sliding it back and forth. “I’m yours so please, p-please just use me daddy!”

“So good for me baby, such an obedient little slut for daddy, fuck,” Jungkook groans, slipping his tip into your lush walls. You cry as he stretches you all the way out, leaving no room for you to breathe with his tip poking your tummy. Your mind felt dizzy, mouth ajar with drool slipping out even when he hadn’t even moved yet. 

“Shiiit you should see yourself baby. Such a fucking whore for daddy’s cock. Can I move, baby? Or can this tiny little pussy not take my big cock?”

“I-I..mm, please, I can take it! Please fuck me daddy!”

“That’s my girl.” Jungkook starts off painfully slow but just as painfully hard, pushing your knees to your chest. He completely draws himself back so he can see his glistening, twitching tip before driving himself back into your core. “Shit baby, your pussy’s so, fuck, tight.” Jungkook moaned to how your breast bounced up and down every time he shoved himself in.

You were sobbing by the time he quickened his pace, the intense sensation having you light headed. Jungkook loved the way you looked under him, eyes rolled back with buried balls deep inside of you. “You like this baby? Love my cock filling you? Answer me.”

“L-love mm love so m—ah, Kookie..! f-feels so....g-good daddy.”

“Look at you, baby. Can’t even talk with daddy’s cock stuffing you. Such a dumb slut for daddy, so fucking hot baby.” Jungkook moans, juices spurting everywhere and dampening the sheets with every thrust.

“I-I’m not d-dumb..!” You whimpered, fat tears streaming down your eyes. Jungkook smirks, licking his lips.

“Aww, of course you are baby. Just a dumb little cock slut for daddy. Can only think of daddy’s cock, can you?”

You can’t bring yourself to answer, your mind too scrambled with each and every thrust. Jungkook was going so fast, so hard, you felt so full.

“That’s what I thought baby. My sweet girl, fucked dumb for daddy. You only need daddy’s cock, nothing else.” Jungkook positioned your legs over his shoulders, clenching on to them to drill deeper into your tummy.

“Oh, o-oh my god, ah d-daddy...! ‘m your slut...love your dick so m-much...love being stuffed with cock.” Jungkook groaned to your sinful moans, feeling his stomach tighten.

“Just want daddy to cum inside you, don’t you? Want daddy to fill you up until you’re dripping with my cum, baby?”

“Y-yes, please daddy! Want daddy’s cum so bad! Please give me cum..!” Jungkook shoves his thumb inside of you plush lips, and god, he’s so proud of his work, so proud of you. You were taking his thumb like a good girl, sucking it as if it were his cock.

Jungkook felt his dick throb inside of you, aching for release. He pulls his thumb out with a pop of your wet lips, coated with saliva, and rubs figures over your clit. You scream, gripping onto the sheets. it was so much, too much for you to handle. Your back arches as he abuses your clit and sloppily fucks your hole.

“J-Jung–Jungkook, ah, please! Kookie! I-I’m..!”

“Its okay, baby, its okay. Gonna cum with daddy, hm? You can do it baby, sweet girl, cum for me,” Jungkook cooes, attempting to soothe your nerves, but his words are breathless and ragged. He thrusts in and out one, two, three, four more times until he burries himself deep inside you, spurts of thick cum filling your womb.

Jungkook groans as your pussy clenches around him, and you’re a sobbing, moaning, wet mess as you milk him. “Fuck, my sweet girl. Taking my cum like a big girl baby. So good for daddy, so fucking good for me.” With his praise, you feel yourself release soon after. Jungkook continues to thrust in and out of you, helping you ride out your high.

When he feels you falter in his arms, he pulls out and lays on top of you. Both of you stay like that for awhile, exhausted and in a daze.

With your moist bodies tangled with one another’s, you shut your eyes. You can hear Jungkook’s heartbeat hammer against yours, you short-winded breaths, and the soft whirring sound of the air conditioner.

Moonlight filtered in through your windows, casting a luminescent glow on Jungkook’s skin when he pushes his upper body up, his shoulders resting on either side of you.

Jungkook had spent the whole night cherishing you, telling you how pretty you were, and yet there he was—so ethereal under midnight’s grace. How could he be real?

You bring your hand to caress his cheeks. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

In that moment, so intimate and sacred, His doe, gentle eyes that you could get lost in—that hold all the lost stars of the night sky, tell you all you need to know.

You yawn, stretching your arms high up. “Here’s your order maam,” two porcelain cups of matcha are placed in front of you, steam following it’s every movement. You mumble a thank you, smiling before your eyes drift to the man at the other side of the cross walk.

He’s wearing all black as per usual, revealing the beautiful tattoos that adorned his tan skin. His hair was tousled and he looked sleepy—after all, he’d just gotten out of class—but as soon as the crosswalk lights up with green, you chuckle when he sprints across and into the shop.

The bell that hung by the door didn’t even finish ringing before he runs to you, sweeping you off your chair and into his arms. “Kookie, let me down!” You giggle, but nonetheless wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’m so proud of you baby,” he nuzzles his nose into yours. “You finally published it right? The twenty second chapter?”

a / n : ahhhhh its exactly 3:01am and i have class in the morning which is why the middle ending is super rushed sorry ! i truly wonder why i do this to myself.

this is my first smut fanfiction so i’m not sure how i did , but if anyone ever reads this , i hope you enjoyed ! i dont think im cut out to write smut, i truly did have headaches thinking of synonyms for thrust and dirty talk . i really admire smut writers ,, writing smut is not as easy as it seems !!

anyways , sending love abundance and happiness your ways. you deserve love, you’re worthy of love, and you are love.

stay safe and healthy starlights <3

[fangirls-just-want-to-have-fun]

My Thoughts That No One Asked For on Dancing With The Stars season 31 ep. 11: The Finale!!

THE PROS ARE SLAYING WE LOVE TO SEE IT

Ezra Sosa you own me

Okay listen they all look SO GOOD in white omg 😭(at least I got to see Daniel and Britt look gorgeous and stunning in white the other week)

OKAY TYRA 🤩 

My heart gets a little brighter every time I see Britt and Daniel 🥰 

God bless Jason Lewis my man is trying his damn best

You know I’ll admit Teresa isn’t actually all that terrible

Sam and Cheryl 🥹 

Shangela and Gleb’s partnership >>>>>

THAT SECOND HALF OF SHANGELA’S DANCE HOLY MOTHER

Shangela FIGHTING to make sure she was right I LOVE to see it

Len LOVES her and I did NOT expect that coming into this season 

HALEY NO I HOPE SHE’S OKAY 😭 

Oh my gosh it’s so nice to see all the old contestants back again to support 🥰 

Shangela speaking out on the mass shooting in Colorado ❤️ no one is doing it like her idc

Okay all nines is not bad! (But I can see she looks kind of disappointed dw shangela bb you did fantastic) 🥺 

Off topic but I literally remember watching the episode where the whole “from Len the Ten” thing started 😂 

Okay Wayne is actually doing better than I thought he would!

I’m thinking all nines 

The shoutouts to the musicians get me every time 😭 

CHERYL BURKE YOU ARE AN ICON AND A LEGEND I’LL MISS YOU 😭 

God she just makes it look EFFORTLESS 🤩 

God I’m just reminded of how much the most memorable year night made me SOB

But then I’m also reminded of how angry the dance marathon made me

“You’re my new hero.” Michael Buble you are so real

TEAM SCREAM SLAYED I’LL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT IT

JOSEPH BAENA I MISSED YOU SO MUCH 😭 

Omg it is SO nice to see Jordin and Brandon back together 

OH THEY’RE DANCING IN THEIR PROMO OUTFITS how did I JUST realize that

Positively begging for Alan Bersten to get a nice partner next season please Disney plus help this man 😭 

CHARLI AND MARK LET’S GO

I’ve never seen someone who more objectively deserves to win than Charli D’amelio I’m gonna be real y’all

You know they had to think SO hard to find a redemption dance for her lmfao 😭 

Oh god we are SECONDS in and this is already THE SLAYEST

I smell a mirrorball for mark (update: YEP.)

Dixie looks so proud 🥹 

Oh god Charli looks so nervous 😭 (and Mark holding her hand omg)

It makes me so upset that she is literally a year younger than me and my girl is deadass about to win a fucking mirrorball 

Full offense but the troupe members?? 👀 😍 

“[singing in non-English]” now WHAT kind of subtitle is that pls 🥲 

Is mark wearing a pin of the British flag for Len…? 🥺 

TENS FOR CHARLI BABY I’M GONNA CRY

So we’re gonna talk about the fact that Charli is now officially like the highest scoring DWTS contestant right?? Like we’re gonna talk about that when my girl WINS??

MY COMPUTER IS GLITCHING NO

SELMA GETS TO PERFORM HER CONTEMPORARY I’M GONNA CRY

JORDIN CAME TO SLAY ONE MORE TIME 😭 🙌🏻 

Selma Blair you deserved so much better 🥺 

JORDIN CHEERING FIR SELMA BEFORE THE SONG WAS EVEN OVER I’M GONNA 😢

Okay listen not to be mean but I’m not really looking forward to Gabby’s dances like yes I KNOW she’s a good dancer but she still kind of annoys me

I have said it MANY times before and good god I’ll say it again, every time Gabby claps for herself I die a little bit inside

No do NOT tell me she’s getting a perfect score

gODDAMNIT

I will admit it’s so nice to see Vinny actually having fun on the dance floor instead of looking absolutely terrified the whole time

Get you someone who looks at you the way Daniel Durant and Britt Stewart look at each other 🤩 god it’s so nice to see them again 

Not me crying over Len Goodman 😭 

PLEASE the way he sounded so excited to get his own mirrorball 😭 

Damn they don’t gotta say the “bottom of the leaderboard” there’s literally four of them lmfao

Listen I may not want him to win but I just KNOW Wayne’s freestyle is gonna EAT

God the other pros were staying BOOKED this week

Witney holy SHIT that choreo

“She’s invited to the cookout.” I’m not even kidding that’s probably the single funniest thing Tyra has said all season

“My new little sister” I’m gonna CRY

I know I should be focusing on their scores but Joe Baena is in the back lookin all cute 😊

FUCK IM CRYING OVER LEN AGAIN 😭 

Oh come on Charli and Mark are gonna KILL this

Mark and Charli being Actual Siblings™️ and helping each other rediscover their love for dance I’m fucking sobbing 😭 

THEY HAVE A LITTLE BIT OF EVERYTHING IN THEIR DANCE ARE YOU KIDDING ME

THAT WAS SO GOOD ARE YOU KIDDING ME IM CRYING

Tag yourself I’m everyone in the balcony losing their fucking minds

Derek is gonna make me cry even harder I can’t do this 😭 

PERFECT SCORE I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT 🙌🏻 

If Gabby gets another perfect score I’m gonna lose my shit

Fuck her dance is actually pretty good so far

NOT HER HEEL GETTING STUCK IN HER DRESS OH GOD

LMFAO YOU KNOW JORDAN AND JOE ARE TALKING ABOUT THAT LOL

Jenna shoutout 🙌🏻 

SHE CHOREOGRAPHED THAT??? WHILE VERY PREGNANT??

God fucking damnit 🤦‍♀️ 

Gen Z we better have come through voting for Charli 

Oh we LOVE the pro dance starting with our queen Britt Stewart (Daniel Durant you are a lucky man)

THE EMMA AND SASHA MOMENT HELLO???? WHAT WAS THAT??

OH my girl Shangela is looking GOOD for this final dance 

The way Gleb talks about working with Shangela >>>>>>> I’m gonna - 😭 

Hold on I do however find it interesting that they ONLY showed Shangela in that little live preview WAIT ARE THEY GONNA PUT HIM IN DRAG OH MY GOD

YEAH I’M SURE THE TOUR IS GONNA BE GREAT CAN WE GET TO SHANGELA ALREADY

I’m sorry is she on WIRES???

OH THIS LOOK ARE YOU KIDDING

THE DEATH DROP GET OUT OF HERE

GLEB HOLY FUCK

THAT WAS SO GLORIOUS OH MY GOD

How are any of the judges being REMOTELY normal after that

LEN FORGOT TO VOTE GET OUTTA HERE

Gleb you are so slay 💅 

Come on let’s give my girl one more perfect score 🙏🏻 

Sasha OWNING that chicken costume is KILLING me

GLEB’S DRAG VOICE I’M ON THE FLOOR

SLAY ONE LAST PERFECT SCORE FOR MY GIRL SHANGELA

Sam Champion I love you forever 💕 

DWTS editors you were so real for showing us the best Daniel and Britt moments in Daniel’s section 

LET THEM ALL SPEAK I WANNA HEAR FROM JOE 

CHARLI AND DANIEL ARE GOING ON TOUR BABY HOW DO I GET TICKETS

I’m sorry did the CHAINSMOKERS just wish Charli luck????

The “whose line is it anyway” guys wishing Wayne luck 🥹 

LIN SUPPORTING WAYNE HAHAHA AIN’T NO WAY

I’M SORRY WHAT DID THEY JUST SAY SHANGELA PLACED FOURTH FUCK OFF WITH THAT NOISE

Okay come on Charli take home that trophy my love 

YES FUCK IT UP CHARLI ABSOLUTELY 🙌🏻 🙌🏻 🙌🏻 THIS IS WHAT WE LIKE TO SEE 👏🏼 👏🏼 

MIRRORBALL FOR MARK WE LOVE TO SEE IT BABY 🙌🏻 

Emma and Pasha lifting Charli and Joe and Alan lifting Mark 😭 

Charli and Mark’s funky sibling relationship >>>>>>>

What a fantastic season!! I’m sad that I won’t be able to make it to the tour, but it looks like they’ve got such a great cast! Loved this season, and I’ll maybe see you guys next time!!

[solarmorrigan]

Wrote this one early on in my days into Newmann, probably inspired by the early fandom fics in which Newt has few fans in the Shatterdome. Mostly I just like making Hermann awkwardly attempt to comfort Newt. (I actually referred to an incident similar to this one in “Surplus”, but the outcome was slightly different)

-

This isn’t the first time Hermann’s seen Newton bloodied and/or bruised and, provided the kaiju don’t end the world in the too-near future, it won’t be the last.

And there is, as always, an instinctive thrill of rage that he must bury beneath a layer of ice. (Whether that rage is at Newton, for getting himself into trouble; at himself, for being so affected; or—in certain cases—at the person who laid hands on Newton, for daring to make him hurt, Hermann is still unsure.)

Finding Newton sitting at his desk, a bloodied tissue held to his nose, as Hermann arrives for work that morning is no different.

“What did you do this time?” Hermann asks coolly, depositing his bag at his own desk.

“Fug off, Hermbann,” Newton slurs back.

“Sounds like a nasty one,” Hermann hums, crossing the dividing line to get a better look. “You ought to have some ice on that.”

“I’mb find,” Newton insists, still nasally and snappish.

As Hermann draws level with Newton’s desk, he can see Newton’s glasses sitting in front of him; one of the arms has been snapped off and a lens is cracked. Hermann doesn’t bother to quell his frown.

Rounding to look at Newton, Hermann can see a bright new bruise still coloring on his cheek and a smear of blood just beneath his bottom lip that appears to have been missed in the hasty cleanup of his swollen and still bloody nose.

“That is a nasty one,” Hermann finds himself saying. “Whatever did you do to earn it?”

This is, evidently, the wrong question to ask.

Both of Newton’s hands bang the surface of his desk, bloody tissue still clenched in one, and his eyes train, burning, on Hermann when he barks, “Fuck. Off.”

“Newton–”

“No!” Newton stands from his chair, gesturing broadly to himself as his nose begins to bleed freely. “You come in here, see I’ve been hit in the fucking face, and just automatically assume I deserved it?”

“You’re still bl–”

“If that’s all you’re gonna do, you can just fuck off, Hermann! I don’t need that shit today!”

“Oh, for god’s sake, hold still!”

Hermann whips his handkerchief from his pocket and reaches for Newton’s face, prepared to stem the flow of blood that’s steadily dripping onto his collar now, when Newton unexpectedly flinches.

It’s a hard jerk away from Hermann, whose hand is still outstretched and frozen uncertainly in place, while Newton’s own hands have come up in what looks like aborted defense.

Startled silence stretches coldly between them.

“It’s only me,” Hermann finally says, voice soft.

“Well someone just fuckin’ attacked me,” Newt snaps, leaning back in to snatch the handkerchief from Hermann, “so excuse me for being jumpy.”

Attacked.

Though Newton is one of the most naturally incendiary people Hermann has ever known, he is not at all a violent person. He will rant and yell and gesticulate wildly, but Hermann has never once seen him instigate a physical altercation. For the ones he has been involved in since they’ve been stationed together, Hermann has rarely even known Newton to hit back.

(Largely, his strategy in these situations involves an advanced ability to dodge and find a quick exit. “I prefer to think of it is living to fight another day,” he’d once said.)

Hermann can see no marks on Newton’s dexterous hands, now. No indication that he’d engaged at all.

“I’m… sorry,” Hermann says. “To imply you deserved to be hit was… inconsiderate of me. I did not mean it that way, but it was uncalled for.”

Newton scoffs, the noise wet and congested, but his posture softens.

“What did happen?” Hermann asks.

Newton shrugs. “Was going into the mess hall, walking with Tendo, and we were talking Yamarashi. Anniversary is coming up, y’know?”

“I recall.” Hermann nods.

“And I actually got to be there when they cracked it open. Boots on the ground and shit; I was assisting the director the salvage crew. It was… amazing.” Newton shakes his head. “Like, obviously it was a devastating attack and people died and I fucking get that. I do. But to be there and see– see the enormity of it, the sheer power it had…”

Hermann can see where this is going.

“But I wasn’t even being complimentary, okay? Tendo asked about stats, so that’s what I was talking about: class and size and features and how far inland it made it, and then,” Newton waves one arm agitatedly, “some fuckin’… J-Tech yahoo comes out of nowhere and starts yelling at me. Going on about showing respect for the victims of the attack, and I’m like – I do have respect for them, okay? I’m just – I’m trying to explain my position, and he’s telling me to shut my kaiju-fucker mouth, which is fucking uncalled for–”

In his indignance, Newton has neglected to hold the handkerchief properly to his nose, prompting another drop of blood to escape; Hermann reaches up to fix it, and this time Newton lets him.

“So I might’ve told him to shut up, but then he hauls off and punches me in the fucking face, and–” Newton breaks off, shaking his head again, “and then, I dunno, Tendo was pulling him back and yelling about how he’s gonna report this to the marshal and I just… came back here.”

Here. The lab, where the two of them are safe from every attack but each other’s.

(Hermann would certainly have to have a word with Tendo later; he would like to find out for himself just what that tech had been spouting, and perhaps learn his name. Hermann doesn’t know what he’ll do with it, but he wants it anyway.)

“I wasn’t even–” Newton waves one hand, his words starting to skip tracks. “I don’t know what I did this time!”

“Well,” Hermann takes Newton’s flailing arm firmly in his free hand and leads him back to sit at his desk, “the way you speak about kaijus can come off as irreverent. People view it as disrespectful.”

“Then why can’t they just say that?” Newton implores, gaze confounded and bitter on Hermann. “Why is their first impulse to scream at me, or start throwing punches?”

“I… couldn’t say.” Hermann shifts uncomfortably under the bare scrutiny.

“I’m not gonna say I’ve never started shit, but, man, sometimes I’m just–” Newton pulls the handkerchief away from his face, suddenly inordinately interested in checking the flow of blood as he finishes quietly, “sometimes I’m just talking, and I don’t get what I’m doing wrong. Or, like – what’s wrong with me. No one will actually explain.”

If Hermann were one for hugs, now would be the time to give one. Unfortunately, he has never been a hugger (the impulse had, in fact, been actively stymied when he was a child), and he has never been much good at reassurance in general. He feels, however, that in this moment, he should really try.

“There is nothing wrong with you,” he says gruffly. “In certain cases, it is the rest of the world that must adjust their perception.”

Hermann has always believed this about certain things—about scientific principles, and about himself, and about Newton, too—and he thinks his sincerity must come through, because Newton gives him a miniscule smile.

“Now you really ought to go to medical. Make sure your nose isn’t broken,” Hermann continues stiffly.

“Nah, it’s fine. I know broken noses, and this isn’t that.” Newton glances at his desk with a sigh. “My glasses are toast, though. I’m gonna have to dig my spares out.”

“You might even have to start wearing protective eyewear in the lab, now that you have no backups. Goodness me, what a thought,” Hermann says dryly.

“Let’s not go crazy.” Newton snickers, then wipes at his nose a final time with the handkerchief and holds it up. “You, uh – Are you gonna want this back? I’m pretty sure I can get the blood out.”

Hermann can’t help the grimace of distaste that crawls across his face at the thought. “No, you can keep that. I have others.”

If Newton takes any offense, it doesn’t show. He merely shrugs, folds the handkerchief, and stuffs it into his pocket. “Cool,” he says. “Maybe it’ll come in handy one day. Who knows?”

[scrawnytreedemon]

Victor Frankenstein and Frustration: a Not-Essay, because I can’t structure for shit.

Alright, I’ll try to keep it as clean and concise as I can, but at the end of the day this is a sorta-heat-in-the-moment thing I’m writing while all the ideas and motivation are in me yet. I will be jumping around alot of topics, as this covers alot of ground, but I can’t say I’ll do it with grace: for this, I apologise.

I’ve noticed a trend in online lit fandom, not just on Tumblr, to condense Victor’s character to something roughly following “arrogant, ineffectual and selfish weenie who failed horribly at parenting, who ought not to be taken seriously in any significant way, largely in-due to his constant whining“ --In other words, a right twat.

And here’s the thing: largely, I agree.

However, what I take issue with, I suppose, is largely how this is all framed.

See, fandom has a tendency to sort characters into boxes, and then pick favourites or bête noires from that selection; this is helpful for the largely memetic(as in, shareable,) nature of online spaces; but where I think this thinking falls short is that it tends to divide casts into More Good or More Evil, with little room for nuance.

I think you can see where I’m going with this.

Victor Frankenstein, by all accounts, is an incredibly frustrating character to witness; he gets way in over his head, isolates himself from his loved ones, leaving them worried, deems those ambitions failed, hides from them, then when shit starts hitting the fan, he takes initial actions to try and mitigate the consequence, hits a roadblock, either stops their or chooses an even worse option, someone else gets hurt, he whines, rinse and repeat until the final act of the book, as the stakes get higher and higher and his mental state deteriorates more, and more, and more. If you look at this entirely from an outsiders’ perspective, as you, the audience, being subjected to his moaning time and time again, it can wear on you and your sympathies-- Needless to say, I Get It™.

I think, however, it needs be remarked that Victor is also just some guy. 

What I feel is often missed, is that even before Victor goes to university, he has just suffered the loss of his mother, with little time to recover, and that all of this is being told in hindsight, on his deathbed.

When Victor took on, all by himself, at twenty-two years old, not even letting anyone else know what he was up to, the monumental task of creating life, and then finding that life horribly botched, he did not have the perspective that what he created was equivalent to a newborn child-- For all he knew, he might have animated an actual demon. It isn’t until two years later, after the death of his little brother at the hands of said demon, the he’s even remotely made aware of this.

Victor had worn himself out over the course of several months, physically and mentally, to this one task. He was not equipped to deal witht he consequences. I do not say this to downplay the weight of his actions, or the horrible mess of events that come afterwards, but to state perspective. Victor does not have the hindsight we have at the time of this act. I cannot stress this enough. As much as I enjoy Deadbeat Dad Vick jokes, I get the feeling many people actually view the story from this lens, and hold Victor up to that standard.

Then there’s the trial of Justine: a horrible, useless, unneeded and avoidable affair that ends in even more senseless death. This is where alot of people’s sympathy for Victor runs out-- For more than understandable reasons. He failed to act accordingly, to share the information he had, deeming it to be either dismissed instantly or for himself to be put under scrutiny; it’s clear he’s passionate about Justine’s innocence, but he cannot push himself past his fear and doubt, and ultimately, it ends in her death.

It is a horrible, horrible moment, and one that cements the tone of the story from there on out.

These are two key events that largely colour this image of Victor so prevelant online; and it certainly doesn’t help, what with fandom being almost aggressively left-leaning at times, that Victor comes from a place of privilege; he is almost tailor-made to push all the buttons of fandom sensitivities.

Let me elaborate.

A key feature of Victor’s character is his complete and utter inability to ask for help; no matter how dire the situation. Victor feels, that, despite and even because of his incompetence, that it is his cross and his cross alone to bear. Any inolvement from others, such as Clerval when he heads to England, is hesitant and highly discouraged, even when he wants nothing more than to partake in the company of his loved ones, after all he’s been through. While it is also heavily coloured by the anguished sentiment that borders on self-absorption so much of the time, I think it is also worthy to examine this too.

Victor’s tendency to indulge in self-pity and self-loathing is nigh, if not entirely, all-consuming; it pervades the narrative to a painful degree, particularly as it comes from his recollections; it is often exhausting to read through, and nigh unbearable if you already hold a disdane from his previous actions; but here’s the thing I think most people miss,

Victor is depressed.

I don’t mean “ooh, he’s so sad, leave him alone 🥺,“ I mean the guy is fucking depressed, stuck in a constant cycle of attempting to make do but failing, hating himself even more, letting it consume him because he at once feels like he deserves to be consumed and it’s the only thing he can do then and there to soothe to pain as shit gets worse and worse.

Victor Frankenstein’s internal monolgue is a prime example of deep-seated, far-gone depression, and I say this because I myself have experienced and do experience this. Depression is fucking soul-sucking, man; it turns you in on yourself, makes you feel entirely undeserving of love and compassion, leaves you feeling like you must, have to, deal with this entirely by yourself because it is your cross to bear.

Depression is so often self-flagellating and pointless, leaving the subject drained and often largely unable to experience the world outside their own miserable little bubble.

Victor is so wrapped up in this soul-sucking guilt, attempting to fight his own ineffectuality and in doing so only furthering his own ineffectuality, refusing to ask for help, that he ends up putting the ones he’s trying to protect in further danger as he tries to scramble a hodge-podge solution to the problem he created and couldn’t have even begun to forsee its consequences at twenty-two years old. It is a painful, painful example of how if only he reached out, if only he told someone, was honest, all of this could have been avoided, or at least mitigated.

And I think that’s the thing with Victor.

He’s a kind of banal evil-- If such continuous stumbling can even be considered so --He is an example of every day self-isolation and refusal to let anyone else in ballooning to such a degree it ends in distaster.

People are far, far more willing to forgive Adam for his transgressions-- And I say this as someone far more sympathetic to his plight, what with the absolute abandonment he faced at the hands of humanity --Despite their far more horrific consequences; in many ways, they’re attributed to Victor’s failing; which isn’t entirely untrue,

But I have to wonder, if alot of this also comes down to the fact that Victor’s wrongdoings are so human; leaving someone in your care behind; not speaking up in cases of injustice; being self-involved; again, the constant whining. In a way, it’s the sentiment that in stories a horrible person is often far more bearable than an annoying one.

That doesn’t even begin to touch on how much of the bemoaning might largely be and often is directly post-hoc regret colouring all his previous actions. This, above all else, is a cautionary tale to a fellow idealist in the hopes that Robert Walton doesn’t Fuck Up the way he did. Victor stresses his regret and his failings and his misery time and time again because he wants to protect Robert from a similar fate; a fate that ultimately ends in his death.

Victor Frankenstein is a study in frustration; in audience frustration, self-frustration, narrative frustration; it seeps into every corner of the story.

I am not trying to defend Victor Frankenstein as a person; he is flawed; and he’s meant to be flawed. Victor, at the end of the day, is a deconstruction of the Byronic hero-- Of Great and Powerful Men on the Fronteers of History™-- And most importantly, I think, a deconstruction he himself undergoes. Victor eventually alerts someone, a Genevan magistrate, is doubted just as he feared, and then runs off to take revenge into his own hands.

It takes the death of Elizabeth Lavenza to do so.

Victor is a flawed, miserable man, but not an evil one. That doesn’t mean he deserved to have his life crumble around him.

He could have done better. Should have done better.

And he knows this.

His entire arc is about how he knows this.

Victor dies knowing this.

Him being unlikable doesn’t make him a bad character. Him being unlikable is part of the character; and in a meaningful way.

God, I don’t know how to end this. I’ll probably come back and edit this many, many times.

I guess I’m just tired of people flattening characters just because they’re not particularly endearing.

[fanfic-archive]

New Tastes

Helmut Zemo X Female Reader

Summary: You were working along side Sam and Bucky, despite not having been an Avenger like them, when things led to you having to work with Zemo. He wasn’t what you expected, being much more welcoming and charming than they had led you to believe. One evening at his Latvian flat would change everything, you just didn’t know if it was for the better or worse.

Word Count: 2547

The four of you had returned to the flat in Riga just over an hour ago after a confrontation with some Flag Smashers. You had been hurt in the confrontation but that was too be expected and it really wasn’t anything to worry about. You had assured Bucky and Sam that you were fine, as if they hadn’t been hurt as well, telling them to just go to bed and get some rest. Once they were more convinced, telling you not to stay up too late and to get some proper rest, they disappeared into their rooms for the night.

With a sigh, you walked over to the kitchen. Zemo hadn’t gone to his room yet but the three of you had become comfortable enough around him to not worry about you being left alone with him. You trusted that he wouldn’t hurt any of you, you even trusted that he wouldn’t run just yet, but you couldn’t say that you were completely comfortable in his presence. Something about him put you on edge, you could feel when his eyes were on you, it made you feel warm, but you couldn’t explain his effect on you.

Zemo was sitting on the couch with a book in his hands, you just ignored him as you grabbed a bag of ice. You wrapped the ice in a towel before pressing it to the bruise along your cheekbone.

“Are you alright?” Zemo’s voice made you jump as you turned to him, he was now standing in the kitchen with you. You hadn’t heard him move or approach you.

“Uh, yeah” you nodded, hissing slightly as you turned away from him and pressed the ice to your cheek again. The bruise still tender.

“Do you need any help?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned for your wellbeing.

“No, I’m fine” you assured him with a sigh, turning back to the Baron as to not seem rude, even if you still couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Let me help” he moved closer. You don’t know what it was about him or the way he spoke, but you found it difficult to resist him.

“…fine” you were hesitant but allowed him to offer his assistance.

“Sit” Zemo ordered gently as he took the ice from your hand.

Doing as he said, you took a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island. Zemo moved closer, casually standing between your legs. It was rare that you were left alone with Zemo, your two friends being a little protective over you, so this was the closest you had been to him and possibly the longest you had been alone with him.

Maybe that was why you couldn’t look up at him and meet his gaze, everything about him was just too intense. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke, even his cologne now that you were close enough to be enveloped by the scent. It was strong but not overwhelming, it was warm and comforting.

You were brought out of your thoughts when Zemo lightly gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting your face up so he could more clearly see your bruise. You just watched him as he iced your cheek.

“It’s a nasty bruise” Zemo commented, making you focus on his accent again. A sound you found near mesmerising. “But it should heal pretty quickly. You got off lightly considering you were dealing with Super Soldiers” he reminded you.

“You know” you breathed, unable to raise your voice any higher with him being so close to you.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked, but you shook your head. It was a little bit of a lie, but you weren’t seriously hurt, just generally sore. “Are you sure?” he asked, not seeming completely convinced. You just nodded in response.

“Good” Zemo nodded, pulling the ice away from your cheek and placing it down on the island behind you. “Turkish Delight?” he offered.

“I’m not a child” you muttered, feeling like he was rewarding you for something even though you hadn’t done anything to solicit a reward.

“I never said you were. I was just offering you a Turkish Delight” he didn’t seem upset or amused with your comment, his expression remaining neutral.

“I’ve never actually had one” you confessed, neither accepting it nor turning it down.

“Then you must have one” he decided for you with a charming smile.

He reached for the vase that he kept his Turkish Delights in, taking one out before placing the vase down again. Unwrapping the candy, he held it between his fingers, you reached for it but only frowned as he pulled it away from you. Was he purposely messing with you?

Zemo raised an eyebrow at you before bringing the candy to your lips. You were stunned, silent and staring at him, unsure of how to react. But he was patient, waiting for a response rather than prying or backpaddling.

Slowly, you came to your sense, if you could call it that, and opened your mouth, letting him place the candy on your tongue. At this point it was fair to say that you were blushing pretty brightly, but you still ate the candy, trying to ignore the way he watched you as you accidently let out a small hum of approval.

“You like it?” he asked, already knowing the answer from your reaction.

“Yeah…it’s good” you nodded, finishing the candy.

“Do you want another?” he offered.

“Sure” you accepted, seeing why he was so fond of the treats. And so, Zemo gave you another in the same way as before, which you accepted with more ease.

“What else haven’t you had before?” Zemo asked curiously as you finished the second candy.

You found the question a little strange, not being sure how to answer it. There must have been plenty of answers to that question. But you thought about some of the things you had had for the first time since joining the three men in travelling to Riga.

“That expensive liquor of yours. Normally just settle for the bottle shelf stuff” you laughed lightly, attempting to ease the tension that surrounded the two of you, still trying to ignore how close he was. You didn’t want him to know how much it was affecting you, though you were sure that he already knew.

“That’s unacceptable” he tutted in disapproval. “Would you like a glass?” he asked.

“Sure” you nodded.

Zemo moved away from you, finally giving you the room to breathe. He rounded the island and fixed you both a drink. You watched him, admiring his side profile as he poured the drinks. Of course, it wasn’t long before he had returned to you, once again standing between your legs as he handed you one of the glasses.

“Prost” he smiled, raising his glass towards you slightly.

“…Prost” you repeated with a small smile of your own, clinking your glass against his.

Zemo watched you over the brim of his own glass as you both drank. “Better, no?” he asked, lowering his glass at the same time as you. “Better quality, better taste, smoother…but the burn is the same” he hummed, swirling the liquid around in his glass.

“The burn is better” you breathed, suddenly returning to the nervous, breathless state he had you in earlier. It seemed to earn a small smirk from the Baron.

“I’m glad you have been enjoying my hospitality” Zemo nodded, leaning towards you to place his drink down on the island behind you. Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt his breath fan against your ear, knowing that your face has heated up as he pulled away again.

“You’ve been very generous” you cleared your throat, placing your glass down beside his, following his lead before turning back to him.

“It’s the least I can do for the people who broke me out of prison” he shrugged.

“Bucky’s going to make sure you go back; you know that right?” you asked, wondering if he thought he could eventually escape you all.

“I will deal with James when the time comes” he assured you, seemingly not worried about future threats.

“You probably shouldn’t tell me that…” you advised him.

“You wouldn’t break my trust, would you?” Zemo asked, his head tilting to the side slightly. You just shook your head, once again being made a little speechless. Did he truly think that you wouldn’t share any concerns with Bucky and Sam? Did he think you would protect him? “How are you finding Riga?” before you could dwell on it any longer, he distracted your racing mind with a casual question.

“It’s nice…beautiful” you smiled softly. “I’m not a very worldly person…I’ve never actually been out of the States before” you admitted.

“That is a shame” he hummed thoughtfully. “There is a whole world out there for you to experience, and you deserve to experience it” he told you, gently pushing some stray hair out of your face.

“Is that so?” you asked with a quiet curiosity. “It almost sounds like a proposition” you commented, your gaze flickering around his face. He had you on the hook and you both knew it.

“And if it was?” Zemo asked, but you don’t know how to respond. Was it a real proposition? Was it some sort of trap? “There is so much to experience in this world, don’t you agree?” you simply nodded. “But what is the point if you don’t have somebody to experience it with?” he shifted closer to you and you allowed it, remaining still as he hooked his finger under your chin, giving you no choice but to look up at him.

“I…I don’t know” you shook your head slightly, but his hold on your chin made the movements subtle.

“There isn’t one” he informed you confidently, but kept his voice low, making the conversation feel intimate.

“And you want me to…accompany you?” you asked in disbelief.

“I would be honoured to have you join me, and it would be my pleasure to show you what you’ve been missing” Zemo nodded. “There are so many things to experience, let me show them to you” he was impossibly close to you now, his thumb stroking over your bottom lip.

“…okay” you whispered, gaze flickering to his mouth before meeting his eyes again, “show me.”

With your prompting, Zemo’s hand moved from under your chin to cup your jaw, leaning closer to you. You instinctively lent into him; your eyes fluttering shut as his lips brushed against yours. Fully closing the space between you, Zemo caught your lips in a kiss. You returned the kiss instantly, having accepted where this was leading a little while ago and craving it for even longer.

Zemo brought his body even closer, touching yours, as his free hand slid up your waist to rest at the bottom of your ribs. Allowing yourself to just let go and experience the moment, you slipped your arms around his neck, helping him shift closer yet again.

You knew that you shouldn’t be doing this, you knew who he was, but maybe that was why it lit such a fire in you. Even with the knowledge of this being wrong, you lost yourself in the sensations. His body pressed against yours, his mouth on yours, his hands on you body, his hair between your fingers. Just for a moment you were able to forget about everything going on with the Flag Smashers, about what Sam and Bucky would have to say if they caught you, even about who Zemo was.

Tilting his head slightly, Zemo deepened the kiss, making you hum into his mouth. You could taste the liquor he had been drinking, mixing with the sweetness of the Turkish Delights. It was addictive, as was he.

You didn’t even hear it, too lost in the man before you, but the sound of a door opening had Zemo swiftly but casually pulling away from you. You watched him, bitten lips parted, left breathless on the stool as he walked around the island, picking up his half empty glass like nothing had happened.

Your attention turned to Sam as he walked into the room, nervously turning to face the kitchen island and busying yourself with your own unfinished drink.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Sam asked with a small frown, noticing your flushed face.

“Yeah, ‘course” you nodded, not even able to look him in the eyes as you took a drink, focusing on the burn in your throat.

“Leave her alone” your friend warned Zemo sternly before crossing the room, for whatever it was that he had come for.

Bringing the glass back to your lips, you looked up through your lashes to see Zemo already looking at you, drinking from his own glass. You blushed further at his attention but still didn’t break eye contact, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

Thinking back over your experience with the Baron, you realised that if you hadn’t known who he was you never would have worried about him. He had been nothing but kind to you, often being a refreshing break when Sam and Bucky were bickering, he was generous and helpful.

Finally, you broke eye contact, shaking the thoughts from your mind. Yes, all of that was true, but he was an intelligent man, it could all be an act. But then again, what did he gain from messing with you?

Sam grabbed his laptop, shooting Zemo a glare as he left the room again. The sound of his bedroom door clicking shut being the only thing to break the silence.

“I think you should get some rest; we have more work to do tomorrow” Zemo spoke, one hand gently wrapping around your wrist as his other took the glass from your grip. You just looked up at him with a dumbfounded look, as he placed the glass down on the island that he was leaning over to reach you. You nodded and he released your wrist.

Once he let go of you, you stood from your seat, clearing your throat as you straightened out your clothes. “Goodnight” you mumbled, nodding at him politely before turning to head towards the bedrooms.

“Y/n” his voice stopped you, making you turn back to him, only to see him standing right in front of you. “Goodnight” his hands gently rested on your arms as he lent down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before stepping away from you, “sleep well.”

Once again stunned by the Baron, you turned and left the room quickly while trying not to look like you were rushing. He had told you to sleep well but you didn’t, you lay in the comfortable bed of his Latvian flat, staring at the ceiling while your mind ran wild with thoughts and images of Zemo. You didn’t know what had led to the moment you both shared only minutes earlier, you didn’t know why you felt this way for him, this urge to be near him, but you just couldn’t shake it. All you really knew was that it wouldn’t end here, if Zemo had something planned, it was going to play out until its natural conclusion. Whatever that may be.

[sleepy-penmarks]

head space

(photo source) (edited by my best friend y.m.)

I’ve learned to ignore the dripping. When it lands in the kitchen sink and stops my hands for just a moment, as if a question hung in the air. When it hits the page I’m writing as the clock tick tick ticks and blinds me, shining across the paper in a constellation of uncertainty. When it hovers and I can feel it behind me like someone tall or quiet or dangerous.

Sometimes I glance at it - this mass of stars and moons and planets that always looms in the corners of my eyes. It would dot my vision throughout the day with Ursa Major and Minor if I haven’t slept. Or if someone’s voice had struck my eardrums and reverberated and shook my brain into a frenzy ‘till I’d forgotten what they’d even said. Or if my own voice had leapt from my throat before I could pass it through the conveyor belt of filters, an industrial discord built on social order and manufactured sense. Or if I’d met eyes with the moon at 1 A.M. and felt just reckless enough to turn around, demand that the mess give an answer for itself.

I get stuck then. I’m the character in the horror film who’d just found the monster leering back. I’m a freeze frame. It’s been a long time coming. It’s without a cure.

It’s everything I haven’t been or learned to be yet. It’s beyond the day and its schedule. It’s less-than-content to be here. It’s the skeptic. It’s the future. It’s the past. It’s I wish it was or I miss them or Okay, now what. It’s a moment to change the lens and hating what I find.

I have friends who describe these kinds of feelings as 'icky,’ and that’s pretty accurate. It just gets everywhere and messes things up, painting the solid sidewalks and traceable lines with constellations in the form of question marks.

It’s only been watered down since I’ve started therapy. “I’m not used to this,” I told my therapist.

“Used to what?” she asked.

“Thinking too much about it. I don’t feel good when it happens this often.”

“Well, that’s how you fix it,” she told me, as if this was completely obvious from the maddening depths of this strange outer space. “You gotta look at it and take it apart, and then you can work on how to solve these things.”

But unlike the kitchen each night, this isn’t as easy as cleaner and elbow grease. This is a bedroom marred up by the mess, droplets of stars everywhere, until the dust bunnies outnumber the hours of sleep. Solve it? It hadn’t been a thing to solve for 15 years. Even when it was growing—this huge icky mess really was 17 years in the making—it was nothing. It never crested like a wave about to eat everything in sight, never once, not until—

“I wish I never found out.”

“Found out what?”

“I don’t know. That’s just the feeling. Like, now that I know, I can’t really go back.”

“But just because you didn’t know about it, does that mean it wasn’t there?”

Sometimes, I act like seeing is believing.

Sometimes, it’s something to get out of sight. The relatives who would only see the bottle if it was shattered, stars and planets and a stretched-out daughter leaking onto the floor. The peers that deserve better than to hear about the newest astral body I found, or where I am when I’ve checked out of Earth at 1 A.M. The inanimate things that lock eyes with me when I take the occasional detour to space, seeing all but saying nothing.

This kind of outer space isn’t the common night sky. It isn’t just the blues and purples and sleepy, momentary relief. It isn’t just the heroic escape from UFO abductions told time and time again. It is the freezing cold and the lack of oxygen, a lone astronaut’s nights at 1 A.M. not knowing where they are. A freeze frame, a scribbled sheet of paper, a full kitchen sink.

And there’s the solitude. That the things that chase you are yours in the end. Your feet need to move for you to turn around.

It’s mentioned time and time again how vast space is, and how little we are against it, but you never really know about it until you feel it on your shoulders. But you can’t go through life thinking everything revolves around the Earth.

“What do I do now?”

“Well, I think you’re in the middle of it all now. If you stopped addressing this all of a sudden, you would know all these problems are there and have nothing to solve them with.”

I said something to agree with her. To get rid of this thing was to keep flushing it out. It felt so wrong to let it run thinner, swell bigger and bigger - but I knew she was right.

“Would you like to keep seeing me?”

“Yeah…I mean, I know that I have to. I’ll see you next week?”

“See you next week.”

[jayankles]

The Culmination: Endgame

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 2362

Summary: Y/N doesn’t feel so good and it’s not like her to not answer the phone to Sebastian. He was right to send over Josie, Y/N’s friend, over to find out what’s wrong.

Warnings: Angst, Implied Smut, Fluff

Written for: @anyfandomangstbingo​ | @anyfandomfluffbingo​ | @anyfandomgoesbingo​ 

Squares Filled:  Sick fic | first time | “I really don’t like doing this over the phone”

A/N - Blake Lively is not a representation of the reader; it’s just for the dress. And the other beautiful woman is exactly who I pictured for Josie.

Feedback is gold and appreciated

Of course, you were sick today. The day that Sebastian had told you that he was to take a day at the gym then spend it with Don. You knew that when you woke up this morning it wasn’t going to be a good day, the cold sheets a little foreshadowing of how your day would have gone. The little guttural feeling you had punching you in the gut right now, it had you on the floor, bent over the toilet seat with your head in the bowl.

You felt awful. Unable to move, unless it was your throat spasming. Definitely the worst day so far, you couldn’t move and when you finally were able to move at all you felt like a robot. Not a good look.

You decided that it was time to head back to bed, none of your food would stay down so you made yourself a bottle of water and stumbled into bed with a bucket in your hand, ready to put the bucket on the floor beside your bed.

Pulling at the covers, you curled up under them and took a swig of your drink. Tears rolled down your face as you felt the pain grow stronger, you rubbed your stomach in hopes it would make you feel better; it didn’t.

All you could do was pray that you would fall asleep to not feel this pain anymore. Sleep evaded you. The pain is all there is that you feel. You threw up another three times before you finally succumbed to the pleasures of sleep. Rattling of keys had been the object that had drawn you out of your few moments of slumber. You didn’t dare move though, there was no point, you couldn’t move anyway.

“Y/N! Y/N, where are you?” It took you a minute to realise that it was your friend, Josie, shouting your name in hopes of finding you. “Y/N, Whe- There you are. What are you still doing in bed? Oh...”

She looked as if she sighed out a breath of relief before she retracted, covering her mouth and nose with her hand. Inhaling the stench of the room, she quickly ran out of there, returning with air freshener, spraying it around you to make her feel better.

“You need a bath, babe. Stay here and I’ll run you one. Of course you’re going to stay here, you poor thing.” Josie rambled, you stopped her before she could go on for another hour.

“Jo, pour some lavender in there. Love you.”

Freshly out of the bath after thirty minutes, you were wrapped up in Sebastian’s bathrobe, a reminder that he was home as it still smelt like him. “I hate feeling like this. It sucks. But I feel better already.”

Josie softly smiled at you, pity in her eyes. “Must have been that nap you took but I know it sucks. Could you imagine Seb with this kinda illness, though? It would be 100% worse just because it’s man flu.”

“Thank you for being here.” You said, taking a seat on the couch. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Seb called, said he tried texting and video chatting you but you wouldn’t pick up. I guess he was right to have me come over and check on you.”

“He’s such a cutie.” You groaned as you walked, the bath only slightly relieving some of the pain.

“I know. It makes me wanna barf… not like you, though. That shit is nasty, no, thank you, ma’am.” She tutted through a pinched nose, reminding of just how gross you felt and smelt not even a mere hour ago.

“You’re a pleasure as always, Jo. Always so kind to me, when I feel like shit. Thank you.”

She shrugged knowingly, a smirk on her face as she reached forward for the remote, finding a music channel and turning it down a little so it faded into the background becoming nothing but white noise. “So do you know what brought this on? Eat some bad food?”

“I don’t think so, otherwise Seb would feel the same way right?”

“Well you aren’t pooping as well as being sick so this isn’t a viral or bacterial thing. You’re not burning up? No severe migraines?” She asked and you only had one answer.

“Nope. And no, my appendix hasn’t burst because I’ve already had it out.” You said, becoming tired again as you let out a yawn.

“Well, I think I might need to slip out for a little bit.”

“Why? Where are you going? I thought you were going to take care of me?”

“I am. I’m just gonna head to the store and grab you some stuff to make tomato soup. I’ll be twenty minutes tops.” Josie was true to her word, never taking more than the twenty minutes she promised. Putting the bag of groceries on the counter, Josie pulls out the contents, revealing the ingredients she offered to get for you but you could tell that there was something else in the bag.

“What’s in there?”

Josie was fidgety, her fingers twiddling together. “I need you to keep an open mind because I think I know why you’re grossly throwing up.”

“Hit me. I wanna know how I can feel better right now.”

“It’s a good thing that you’re sitting down because…” She paused, making a face that she knew you weren’t going to like. “Because I think you’re pregnant.” her face unchanging as she pulled out the pregnancy test.

Then it hit you. 

No.No.No. Fuck!

Hands dancing.

Tongues twining.

Passion blooming.

It was everything you could have asked for when he was away but now that Sebastian was back, you couldn’t keep your hands off of him. You covered every area of the apartment possible.

Oh crap.

“Fuck!”

“Yes you did.” Josie laughed at her own joke, the reaction not quite the same on your end.

“Oh god, Sebastian is going to kill me. He’s never going to want to talk to me. Why was I so stupid? Oh, I’m never gonna hear from him again. I’ll be kicked out. I’ll be a single mother. I’m gonna have to live with you and if I have this baby, you’re gonna hate me, then you’re gonna kick me out too. ”

Josie scoffed at you, helping you scurf back your hair away from your face, making you look into her wide eyes. “First of all, chill. I gotchu, you know I gotchu forever. Sebastian isn’t like that, but if he is you will never see him again and that is a promise and maybe a little bit of a threat. He’ll deserve it if he hurts you so. Just be my alibi if anything ever happens. Just go take the test. Negative? You’re just sick. Positive? You call Sebastian and you talk to him like an adult.”

“Why are you always right? Don’t you ever get sick of it?” You huffed before you smiled at her, squeezing at her hand after taking the small handful of the pregnancy test boxes back to the bathroom.

Five minutes passed and you were holding the peed on sticks in your hand, four out of five of them being positive. “I think I need to call Sebastian, and a doctor.”

After making an appointment with the doctor, you took a deep breath and pressed the button to call Sebastian. He picks up the call pretty quickly and you are not surprised.

“Y/N! Finally! Are you okay? What happened?”

“Hey bubba. I’m fine, just a little sickness. But I really don’t like doing this over the phone. When are you coming home. We need to talk.”

Two months later.

It was the night of the premiere of Avengers: Endgame and you couldn’t be more thrilled for the success that the Marvel Franchise had. It was 10 years of absolute lovable craziness. Thank you, Stan Lee.

You had no idea that you would be here on the aptly coloured, purple carpet with Sebastian after all you would have thought that you would still be with him after the whole pregnancy fiasco but the two of you were able to talk things through. Things were thrown, voices were raised, and tears were shed but still after all of that, Sebastian made the executive decision to calm the two of you down. The stress was no good for anyone at this point. You were both going to be parents; it’s what was established.

The two of you walked hand in hand, palms sweating as the cameras flashed, and photographers called out to each and every star that was involved in the production of Endgame. The culmination of the whole franchise was just so surreal, the fact that it was ending with a bang both made you swell with pride but it also made you a tad emotional because this collection of amazing characters wouldn’t continue but the legacy they left would. And that was what mattered.

“Sebastian! Y/N! Over here!” You heard from one of the interviewers, looking beautiful in her outfit, Sebastian rubbed his thumb across your knuckles, you were going to be okay. He was right there with you and you had done this a few times before. He was there for you.

“Hi.” “Hello. You and Sebastian answered at the same time, making the interviewer laugh.

“Wait, I remember you. I bought you a soup in a thermos and Tom gave you his jacket. I see we got lucky with good weather today, huh?” You said, smiling at her.

“Yes. You remember me?!” The woman turned to the camera looking right into the lens of it. “Guys, I’m fangirling so hard right now. Ah!”

Once the woman got her fangirling out of the way, she moved onto the interview, trying to get any information that she could before the movie premiered. Sebastian took over that one, telling her that there was no way that they were allowed to say anything about the movie other than he was dust.

“Now we’ve got that movie non gossip out of the way. Are you okay to talk freely about your pregnancy?”

You looked to Sebastian, it was his decision just as much as it was yours, you knew that Sebastian wanted to keep his private life separate from his professional acting career. “It’s okay, honey. Go ahead.”

“I think you’re good to go.”

“Thank you. I must say that you do look stunning in that dress.” She gushed, you thanked her, hiding your face a little. You loved this dress, the nude under layer and the little white and purple flowers that scattered across your dress, your bump barely visible through your dress.

“How far along are you?”

“Well, we’re in the first week of the second trimester. So I’m a little more confident when telling you that.”

“That’s amazing. Was the pregnancy planned at all?”

You made a face, sucking in a little air, looking to Sebastian for a little light to be shed on the situation. “Not at all. It was Y/N’s friend that actually realised that her morning sickness wasn’t her having the flu. She felt absolutely awful that morning, it was enough to know that it was bad when I tried to call her and I didn’t get an answer.

“We had our issues, you know, we didn’t know what to do, we're new at this. But I think that it’s important to know that you don’t abandon your family.” Sebastian softly smiled at you, subconsciously putting a hand on your slowly growing stomach. “I guess that is what this franchise is about though, right? It’s about family and- and looking out for one another. Everybody’s got a somebody here and I love that.”

“And Thanos, fucks it all up and snaps his goddamn fingers.” The three of you and the cameraman began to laugh at your little outburst about the mad, purple titan. “God, I can’t wait for the premiere tonight but I’m scared. For everybody. But especially for me, you know, I’m an emotional person anyway, add a hormonal woman to the mix and a whole lot of angst. Get my ice cream and tissues ready, because I’m coming for you, Thanos.”

“I heard that!”

“Love you, Josh. For the record, Josh is a nice guy, the character he plays is a big old sack of balls and I have no idea how he does it so convincingly.” Lovingly, you made eyes at Seb. “But it’s just like my Sebastian, a dark hydra assassin but in reality he’s a big ball of sunshine and goofiness. And I love him for it.”

“This is- this is what gets me.” The interviewer leaned in a little as Sebastian’s voice dropped to a slight whisper. “I know that she is going to be the best mom for our child because Y/N loves everything and everyone and that is a great quality to have but she’s also caring and matches my goofy side but her sass outweighs mine of course, no one can beat that.”

“Aww, he’s making me cry already. Seb,” you whined. “My makeup.”

“Well that's it folks.” The woman spoke, telling the audience that this was one of the cutest interviews that she had ever taken, that she could die happy and quickly saying congratulations before the two of you were whisked away to walk the carpet again and pose for pictures.

“You’re way too good to me, you know that right?” You said to Seb as you admired the sky blue suit he was wearing over his plain white tee. “I never even got to tell them that this baby will have the hottest dad in the world as well as the sweetest man. Thank you for being my baby daddy.”

Unbeknownst to you, the cameras had caught every single moment the two of you shared. The kisses you shared together, were now shared with the world, all over social media. At this point you didn’t care, you only cared about the man in front of you and the baby growing in your stomach. And this god damn movie!

Feedback is gold and appreciated

[anonil88]

Malcolm and Marie live blog

I don't usually do liveblogs for movies but yea.

Spoilers ahead!!

I love that its modern timed but very 70s stylized.

A tune indeed.

When you are high and drunk on success and

How the white critic reacts is why I feel like gatekeeping my scripts. At the same time some things I do make are about race or involve.

Marie sitting on the patio smoking is a mood whenever men are talking.

So he's pretentious and unaware.

Whoever chose the music for this, I feel like we would be Spotify mutuals.

Can this nigga stop pacing.

Also can he stop talking;

Marie is so tired and unimpressed.

Also little booties matter and are to be bitten.

Oooo the tension and the jazz.

Title Card over mac and cheese.

Shitty boxes mac and cheese but still mac and cheese.

Tbh i always wonder if spouses/significant others get upset when their spouses don't acknowledge them during speeches.

John sounds so much like his dad but I really hope his acting style differs from his dad a lot.

Guilty confession?

He did not profit off of his partners backstory and then not even acknowledge her.....I.....

If that ever happened to me catch me cussing my partner out during the beginning credits, the end credits, in the car, and at home.

GASLIGHTER!

The way I'm excited for Zendaya to give me some, oooo can she work with Regina King. Please on my knees I pray.

Um no that's not your job to coddle your lead.

He's a dick and the type of dick who makes himself look like a good person around other people.

If Sam Levinson is trying to make his viewers more of misandrist, it's working.

I feel like Marie has her flaws probably a lot of them and we will surely see as this continues, but Malcolm needs to learn how to apologize sincerely.

70s vibes! 70s vibes!

Them kissing and talking about criticism and dreams makes me miss a partner. A partner that I've had and haven't had.

Women really are behind every great man.

Yea sir you fucked a happy moment.

Oh visual allegories for looking in from the outside and cat and mouse chasing and looking from the outside in.

She's saying she doesn't feel noticed by you.

Gas lighter :0 he called her an emotional support dog, bruh.

I would LOVE to co-write or take a writing class held by Sam Levinson. The fights i write are very much in this same realm of reflection and anger and monologue.

Sam.....sam.....are all the sides inside of you doing okay sir?

The ugly side of dating and being in a relationship with someone who struggles with their own demons.

Honestly I could close my eyes and listen to this script being read without seeing these characters visually. Just close my eyes and get a sense of these characters like it was a radio story.

Oh. Oh this is a new wheelhouse of Zendaya acting; a different voice is like breaking through here and her expressions aren't the same we are used to. You can literally hear another character in there....hmm.

Mans is outside really fighting with his invisible demons lmfao.

Selfish ass, how after everything she said you came out of it thinking about your own craft and self instead of how you hurt her.

So she's conditional.

Me: did sam (a white man) say nigga this many times in his script or are the actors adding their own inflections. Not just the lingo used but the topic of race and directing etc. being written by a white writer about black characters is always gonna be a critique when you're writer is a white person.

Alexa play Broken Girls by Saba

He is so hurtful.

A clown nigga a clown look in the fucking mirror you bozo head ass looking like you need some Mehron clown white and a size 16 in clown shoes.

John is doing a really swell performance and reading of these lines.

He is reading her for her insecurities by bringing up his experiences with other women and that.....is yikes.

Arguments can get messy like this in real life but it takes a lot of maturity and control to either not let it get to this point or have a healthy conversation afterwards.

This film is really shot on some very crisp lenses.

They sitting there like 🚬🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️.

Leftover Mac and Cheese and unfinished cigarettes.

The nyt etc. pay walls are so annoying, but there is a work around look at the articles on incognito or add a period at the end of the url.

He sounds like his daddy so much here, weird, this is the only part I'm eh on the dialogue it feels real but a bit out of pace in how they are bouncing off one another.

Nail scissors? So the end is not the only part he based off of Marie. 🙄

ITS A GOOD REVIEW YOU DINGUS but also its a full review they are going to critique things. She isn't wrong though he did profit off of a woman's story that was not his own to profit from.

Yes Malcolm because unfortunately all marginalized people look through a lens of life that is inherently political because of the world they live in.

He is so mad and upset and had a lot on his chest. But I think he Malcolm and Sam are talking about something thats an issue and a non issue. Being critiqued for you art is hard but also Malcolm is not super self aware. He's like a stand in figure of for example rich depop sellers who wanna be oppressed so badly they yell at others instead of examining their own personal behaviors and ethics.

Oh Marie, when you know the spark is gone and you pick fights because.

He ain't even ask her to read?

One critic I have for most of hollywood actors is they learn their cry and that is it. A change from this is Margot Robbie, I adore her fluctuations of crying being similar but the crying is carried differently for each character. If I had to say any actor that does a cry scene amazing its this woman right here (Amy Adams)

You stole her story from her and gave it away, she has a right to be upset and angry and a rubber band ball of emotions.

Citizen Kane, not the cinematography, but the story is it even that good? (Unpopular opinion but meh, maybe in my rewatch it will be better.)

But that is what people want authenticity and whatever authenticity means to them. What is real for one is false for another.

To be honest look at the criticism of Euphoria, well earned, but a lot of people were like this isn't real even though he literally wrote about his own life. People said it was inauthentic like....wtf.

Ahh the smoking is just a habit, he quit and she didn't.

CAST ZENDAYA IN A HORROR MOVIE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING. Get Lupita and Zendaya and some more black actors preferably less known ones in a horror movie. One with a interesting script and story, directed by Regina King. Please and thankyou.

I love Marie yep that was amazing.

Behind every great man is a greater woman, one that deserves her credit for how she has stood behind. I wonder the stories of those women, what they have sacrificed or not sacrificed. Their thoughts and feelings when the world is surrounding their partner and views them as a plus one. (I'd write a short script about this but I think do I have the time, can I, or am I equipped ?)

He is a shitty person for bringing up his exes, like she even said I don't wanna know any of that.

Imagine being on anti depressents and rarely having a sex drive and then when you do your partner starts talking about their exes and tearing you apart for all your faults.

I love when you see peaks of Zendaya's cadence in roles.

Tension, what if's and he didn't even bring her up in his speech.

Marie to herself and the audience:

He is not afraid that he will loose her but as my character says in my unreleased story, "i can't wait til you give me a fucking reason to leave your ass." Malcolm expects everything in order for not even doing the bare minimum and she is only asking him for something as simple as consideration. She just wants him to be considerate. He wants to get married and considers their relationship like rolling down a hill at full speed and he cannot apologize, he cannot be considerate, and he cannot admit his wrongs. He can only offer her I love yous that he probably does mean but he does not back up outside of what he's done for her in the past. The past which was more of her experience than his and he sees his part in it as a burden. He doesn't use his own vantage point of the past to further his career he uses her. He does all of these things without a real apology or thankyou because he is not afraid to loose her.

The restrictions of quarantine and the panorama have made Sam's writing very no frills. I wonder how other films from other directors and writers that are filmed in small contained crews like this will be structured. But this was a very good movie gonna add to my letter box 3.3-3.5

Oh shit this is my song,

Ratings/overall thoughts:

Script is like a C+, B- : I could go into my heavier big brain thoughts on the script but I don't feel like it. You catch hints of it above it centers conversation on race and privilege, mainly the writers and questions i have that won't be answered but Sam did make me grow disdain for Malcolm over a short time. Which is sometimes hard to do because im one sympathetic person but the sympathy i have for Malcolm is at 0. Maybe a 2 at some scenes but then it quickly goes back to 0. Some parts of the dialogue miss the mark or hit the are off balanced. While some of it like Malcolm's bathroom speech albeit mean is really strong or their conversation when he comes back from peeing really shines for me.

Performances: B+ to A- because they carried the script further than it could of gone with less talented actors. The monologues do well to showcase their current skill levels which are already high af and leave room for anticipation in where these actors go next.

Zendaya holding a knife: A+ with a gold star. That switch on and off and on is delectable.

John being a shitty boyfriend but following Marie like a lost puppy: B+ with a good job written at the bottom of the paper, Malcolm being nervous a frantic dialed up with more realistic nervousness would have sold me completely on Malcolm's anxious waiting.

Cinematography: A and a participation award.

The mac and cheese: A+ for the easy mac. Wish it was like Annie's or Velveeta.

Cigarettes: Participation award and their picture hung up for student of the month. Why the grill lighter? Everytime Malcolm opened up his mouth Marie was like sparks fly.

The music: A++ with a prize. Whoever picked the music probably makes good Spotify playlists.

[diamondcitydarlin]

what do you think about the arguments that lokius is being queerbaited? I want to enjoy and ship it so bad but it seems like im setting myself up for disappointment

And I can't assure you with full confidence that you wouldn't be. I can't be certain I won't be, though I've personally chosen to enjoy what is there and extrapolate from what we are given, even as I know that historically, statistically, it's best to assume a mainstream depiction of a m/m relationship in a Disney-Marvel production is pretty slim. But then...not nonexistent and, in many ways, the likelihood of it actually going there is higher than it's ever been. So there is that.

I've been independently studying LGBTQA+/queer representation in mainstream media for over a decade now. The term 'queerbaiting' is relatively new in fandom spaces (if we're looking big picture, back into the earliest films and TV shows, some of the earliest shipping fandoms like Star Trek), as I only started seeing it maybe around 2012-2014. It's a term I appreciate, because it represented a switch in cultural thinking from holding no expectations of creatives in Hollywood to large swaths of LGBTQA+ fans gaining the confidence to say 'no, this isn't good enough'.

It also represents the switch in Capitalist approaches to LGBTQA+ citizens, from catering solely to the religious, satanic panic morality by pretending gay people simply don't exist, to deciding that gay fans are in fact lucrative and need to be included just enough to feel inclined to monetarily contribute to a brand. They'll write scenes between characters with intentionally confusing, ambiguous energy, give them moments that are meant to be read into deeply, but rarely, rarely, with any kind of payoff that would alienate homophobic investors. The insidiousness of this tactic is in the fact that when payoff does not happen, viewers can be easily gaslit into thinking that was never the intention in the first place, they were the ones who were wrong in their takes. As I've worked professionally in entertainment as actress, director and producer with rather big capitalist brands I won't mention names of, I can assure you this -is- very much a thing, please stop giving corporations the benefit of the doubt.

There is no clean definition or qualification for queerbaiting, despite how often people want to gatekeep how gay viewers use this term. To be clear though, it is an accountability term before anything else. Not an insult, not an accusation that someone isn't good at what they do, it's a reminder that we're owed more than what we're usually given. If we don't speak out, if we don't label things queerbaiting (when they very much usually are), if we don't demand better we will never, ever, ever get it. I promise you that.

Okay, so now that we've established what queerbaiting is at least in my mind...

Do I think Lokius is being queerbaited? Yes, possibly. I'm waiting to see how the rest of the narrative plays out before I come to a definitive conclusion on my own (yes I'm actually optimistic I say as I put on clown make up), but I'm also not going to deny LGBTQA+ fans the right to feel like that's what's happening and voice their opinions. Anyone tasked with writing/creating content for mainstream audiences has a huge responsibility, in that this content will reach millions of people and has the potential to help shape our culture, perceptions- it even has the potential to help normalize and give broad optics of what it means to be queer and have queer relationships, romantic and otherwise. None of this is as trifling as, 'it's just a TV show', because it's never that simple.

As far as Lokius itself is concerned, the show spent a great deal of time first developing their bond and dynamic before (seemingly) switching gears towards elevating romantically the first feminine-presenting character Loki ran into even though there are some clear, uhm...conflicts with the idea of this actually being a thing. If it becomes a thing. It also seemed to first build a solid, unique platonic bond between the 'fem' and 'masc' character that a lot of gay fans would have appreciated seeing playing out before having them mashed together haphazardly as a romantic pairing, as has been done in media for 50+ years now. That's to say nothing of the fact that the most visible feminine character being forced into role of 'love interest' for a broken main character is one we've had to see play out over and over and over and over again too, poorly. People have a right to feel frustrated about that and voice their frustrations accordingly. We expected more of this show than that. (And yes, I am bisexual, I know that it would still technically be a queer relationship, but please consider the broader history/picture here of queer rep in media and the optics of that against that mosaic, please consider the heteronormative lens that so often claims any and every possibility for itself, please consider the long history of how feminine characters are often used as coping tools and objects of lust before they are treated as individuals deserving of their own development)

Now, again, I want to say that I am not convinced of anything really right now. I'm not taking any of the writers at face value because they are all bound by contracts and NDAs and aren't going to come out and say what the outcome of the show will be, so nothing they're putting out on twitter or in interviews is something I will be taking as absolute truth beyond assuming they're trolling, maybe even have been instructed to keep the pot boiling in the fandom through social media antics. Don't rule it out.

Things really could go either way, but my point is I do not deny the possibility of what this is and I'm certainly not going to gatekeep how other gay viewers feel they're being queerbaited, and I really don't see any reason why anyone else should either.