#to the people i've tagged in the post i hope you don't mind! please lmk if you do and i'll remove it

[hellooobees]

I'm so impressed by the writing of Thamepo just in general but this is specifically about something I love about the writing around Thame and Po growing closer.

So in the first episode, the time that Po was hired to photograph Mars at an event is brought up three times right? First when Po is interviewing for the job at ONER and embellishes the truth about that event. Second when Thame reveals that he remembers Po from that event and has evidence that proves Po lied about not being a fan/sasaeng. And third when Po convinces Thame that he's not a fan in secret and Thame in turn reveals that he remembers Po out of everyone there because Po did something kind for a young fan and it stood out to him. @thebroccolination has written this fantastic breakdown on the layered writing of the first episode around that scene.

In the third episode, we see Thame and Po exchanging phone numbers three times. @btwinlines points out how every successive instance is growing more personal from Thame entering his phone number into Po's phone because they need to be in touch for their plan, to Thame being worried about Po when he's with Jun and finding he has no way to contact him, to Thame memorising Po's number because he doesn't want to risk losing it again.

At this point, I wondered about the number three showing up again and again in relation to Thame and Po and whether there was something similar in episode two as well, as it wasn't something I noticed immediately on first watch as I did with ep 1 and 3. And at least in my opinion there is? It's in Thame's interview for the documentary.

First we open with the staff at the company try to manufacture a meaningful moment for Thame and the rest of Mars, with fake polaroids, a script for exactly what Thame needs to say, even the gifts that Thame will present to them as goodbye. However, none of the other members show up and the interview falls through. The next day they try again, this time with just Thame in front of the camera till Po interrupts him, pointing out his contradictory actions between obediently following the script to a T and the very thoughtful gifts that Thame himself brought for Mars. Finally, Po turns the camera on again, asking Thame to say what he really wants to say to Mars and all Thame can do is say he's sorry and break down from the grief he's carrying around his decision to leave.

I wanted to see if they keep this theme up with the fourth episode too, and well, kind of. It's definitely not as clean as 1 and 3, but at the beginning of the episode Thame texts Po to which Po replies immediately and asks what's up - which goes unanswered. Po shows up to the club, after finding and putting together the shredded pieces of paper with the song Thame and Jun had asked him to help them find, just to realize it wasn't needed anymore and goes back home wordlessly so as not to intrude on the band's reconciliation with Dylan. At the end of the day while Po is stewing in insecurity over the day's events, he receives a call from Thame who validates his feelings and emphasises he doesn't want miscommunication to come in the middle of any more relationships, not while he's trying to fix the consequences from when he did let it. And they stay on the call for nine and a half hours talking about anything and everything, at the end of which Thame serenades Po with the song he said he likes when he wakes up.

Thamepo is very clearly made for TV in the way every episode has an individual arc to it along with the overarching arc of the show itself, but that little detail of Thame and Po's relationship was so endearing to me. I might be wrong here but it's reminiscent of the three act structure of storytelling to me? It sort of makes sense to me for each example to think of the three parts of it as the set up, the confrontation, and the resolution, if that makes sense? I don't know if this similar structure will show up in the following episodes as well and while I don't think it's likely I'll definitely keep an eye out.

I don't know, I just like the writing in this show a lot. Miscommunication is the crux of the plot, that's what causes the break down between Mars and what is weaponised by the CEO of ONER to convince Thame that leaving is the best decision. And I adore that communication then takes centre stage in not just bringing the band back together but also the romance. I love that their first few meetings dealt with Thame and Po both projecting on each other and then details being revealed that made them think differently. I love the way Thame asks for Po's help to bring the other members back to Mars and what convinces Thame to stay is a silent gesture of offering him the second sandwich as a juxtaposition to the CEO convincing Thame to leave by misrepresenting details about the other members. I love that what we've seen of Thame and Po building their relationship so far has been deliberate attempts to open a line of communication and then learning about every small and mundane detail about each other. Yeah, that's all, I just love this show a whole lot already.

[hughiecampbelle]

Just Let Me Adore You (Kendall Roy x Plus Size!Fem Reader)

Character/s: Kendall, Roman, Logan mention

Word Count: 1,728

Inspired By: Adore You (Cover) by Brittany Broski

Tagging: @chaithetics (Lan!! Please lmk if tagging you is annoying! I thought you'd like another Kendall Roy fic💕)

A/N: IMMEDIATELY started typing as soon as I heard this cover. I know It has been forever and I just hope this one fic can make up for many weeks of no posts. I've never written s plus size reader before and I'm so sorry it's not inclusive to all. I just pictured a plus size baddie lol. Definitely Game of Thrones inspired :) I really love this imagery of the song and I just knew Kendall of all people would see himself this way. Maybe it's a little ooc, but I just couldn't help myself!!! Ahhh ok I don't want to ruin this fic by getting into detail about all my big feelings lol. I never meant to disappear or anything. I've been struggling a lot in this house and though the end goal is there, it feels so out of reach. It's driven a wedge between me and my mum and that wedge is my stepdad. Everything feels like it's on hold and it makes me feel so behind in life, so forgotten. Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜💜💜💜

He can feel it when he catches a glimpse of you.

Your body, your curves, your softness beneath silk. Your hips, your things, your breasts: outlined by the thin fabric, teasing him in ways his mother tongue could never describe. He melts in your presence. With a childlike sort of affection, or, perhaps, that of a knight. Willing, almost eagerly, to throw his life away for you at the hands of a sword. Let his last image, his last memory, be one of you undressed, your skin prickling in the cold air. Curse his opposer not with death or vengeance, rather one on his heart: may he never find you the way Kendall has. May crows pluck out his eyes so that, in the rare occurrence your paths ever crossed, he can never set his eyes upon you. May his teeth be plucked from his mouth one by one if the words he spat at you were crude and cowardice. May the sword of another kiss his throat if the belief he is too good for you ever crosses his mind. I dare you, he thinks, excited that this opponent lives his short life without a woman like you, blood pooling from his mouth, his last moments engulfed with the thought of you. I dare you. 

Pleading with the old gods and new to speak with you, awkward and shy, praying he makes a better impression than the last. A centuries old relationship that has kindled past platonic, a fire burning with no end in sight, nurtured by your hands and breath. You could let it die, let the world turn black. That spark, he believes, would live inside him and it would be enough. It would be his everything. The beat of a drum, low and hard, the beat of his chest, picking up pace, threatening to burst. He would avert his gaze, offer you grace, but he cannot take them from you. Magnetic, ethereal, other worldly. Wars would have been started over you, your beauty. The slope of your nose, the roundness of your face, the danger in your eyes, the kind of looks that he begged and pleaded to kill him. Not swiftly, no he wanted to suffer if it meant the light of your gaze shines upon him for just a moment longer. Tear him limb from limb. Slice him down the middle. Play with his organs, but please, he begs, be gentle with his heart. Taste it, cradle it, ingest it so that he will always be a part of you. Have him crawl on his hands and knees for eternity if it means following the breadcrumb trail you leave. Let him eat the scraps from your table. Pour molten gold over his crown if it means his jaw is cradled in your hands, an interaction that lasts mere seconds, but would fill his cup for eternity.

Kiss his lifeless body and grant him heaven. 

Your words are milk and honey, your presence the sun. Finding him through the crowd, offering your affections without a second thought. Your arms placed around him feeling the stiffness of his suit, the quickness of his pulse, the ease of his muscles in your grip. His hands find their way to your spine, holding you close, his words falling from his mouth clumsily. It’s been a while, he says, and it breaks every bone inside him. A reminder of the time that has passed. How old he must look, how gray, his hair once inky, the color of night skies without any stars, now faded and dull. He laughs about it, shy, knowing the years have not been kind to him. You look perfect, Kendall. Your fingers through his hair, the roots anything but monstrous. Even more handsome, you add, and the smile you wear settles something in his stomach. Time has not touched you the way it has dragged her claws through him. Just as radiant as the day you met, perhaps a touch of something more, something deeper. A certain nobility, a kind of decency that settles into the skin the older one gets. Perfection, he thinks, and it is not a cheap word he throws around. There is no means to an end. Only a declaration. Something that must come up, out, or else it will fester, rotting upon his tongue. 

He fills your cup with something red and bitter. Despite your sweetness, it is not something you crave on nights like this. Strong and dark, the wine kisses your lips the way he used to. A stain is left and it is beautiful, kissed by gods. His hand finds the curve of your back and you let it linger, heat blooming across your cheeks. Others come up, introduce themselves, reintroduce themselves. It’s been a while, they all say, their words dipped in sugar. They’ve missed you, everyone has. A tragedy you have left the company in pursuit of better things. You never should have left, they joke, this place isn’t the same without you, and you laugh, a tune he has embedded in his bloodline. Conversations you share in secret, through glances, of which he adores. A language you have developed through the years, with cues and expressions so miniscule to the untrained eye, but so impactful to one another. Intertwined like the roots of two trees, you stray so little from one another. His hand in yours, your sides together, a want, not a need, for closeness neither of you is willing to give up.

Not tonight. 

When the time comes to separate it is excruciating. The king has made his demands and you must abide. Left with the fool, the gesture, Kendall speaks with his brother, but his eyes never leave your form. Something twists in his gut the way his father watches you, his expression brightening, his arms raised, ready to engulf you in a hug. Territorial, and stupid, he admits to feeling both. You and him have a history, a path, a future that is unknown, but so welcomed. An old man with power could not sway you. He could not win you over. And yet, the win grows warm in his cup and an ache in his middle has spread. You laugh with Logan, his touches seemingly innocent but so insidious. He was always doing this, taking from him, showing him that a king has rule of the land and everyone else. What could a prince do? How could he prove himself? Laughs beside him, Roman teasing him, making jokes Kendall wouldn’t dare repeat. Disgusting things. Horrifying. He waits and watches, like a hound banished to the outside while his owners linger in. every once in a while, when the king is not looking, you’ll make a face aimed at Kendall. Across the room, the gathering, your connection cannot be broken. It eases his mind. 

You will kiss the king as all do, thanking him for his presence, finding your way back to him. The crowd had thickened and this journey is not an easy feat. How he wishes to run to you, meet you in the middle, clear the room so that there is nothing treacherous about it. How he wishes to lead you from here, this place, where you can be alone. Where he can have you all to himself. Proclaim his love for you the way he has wished, dreamed. He doesn’t need to, you know how he feels. They are not unreciprocated. Now is not the time, though. Are you okay? He asks, and it could mean so many things. He’s harmless, you say so sweetly, and he can do nothing but believe you. Harmless, the king. He knows better than that, he knows from experience, and yet your tone is so steady, stone-like, he must abide. Together again. More wine, more time, more of you. Your hair grew wild despite your best effort to tame it. Your eyes are bright and knowing.

It is still early in the night, but he can feel it coming. The sense of dread, the impending doom. This will end. It always does. If not here, tonight, then in the morning when you slip from the bed, the sheets wrapped around your curves. The afternoon where you part ways. The next night where you trick yourselves into thinking you can stop if you want to. Please, he wants to beg, please don’t go. Please don’t leave me. There is no need to love me, but please don’t leave me. His eyes were so wide, so sad. Silly prince, you think. I already love you. That is why it is never easy. You do not watch the clock. You do not time the moon, watching her rise and fall. You do everything in your power not to remind yourself you are mortal. That time is a fleeting thing and you can try to grab, try to cling, but it always escapes you. It is beautiful and it is heartbreaking, much like his expression. You tip his chin up, his face meeting yours, gaining strength for the both of you: It is not time to mourn just yet. 

You are right, you always are. Tomorrow, when is standing alone, his crown heavy, he will grieve. He will wallow. He will sink into the ocean and beg to be taken with the tide. But you are here now, you are with him, like you are the only two in the whole world. He could be the wealthiest man in the kingdom, he could be the richest in knowledge, he could have everything he has ever wanted, it would not matter. None of it would, because without you he is nothing. He is nobody. A title, an inheritance, a fortune. A common man might think those are worth living for. And maybe he is right, only because he is common. Kendall knows better. He has seen better, he has felt better, he has kissed better. He could have everything, but without you, he is the biggest fool of them all. For now, in these moments, you are all his. You have graced him with your affection, your attention, your adoration. Despite what the king might think, he is the richest man in the kingdom.

If this is the last night he sees you, may this be the last night he ever lives.

[jasons-exposedspine]

I promise to protect you.

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Amy (my OC)

Warnings: bullying, fluff and angst

A/N: hello again lovely creatures. This is a few chapters long so the next chapter will come out very soon. I'm sorry that my writing is a bit shit I haven't written anything in a while so please be gentle and patient with me 😅 with this fic my OC has poilisis its a rare genetic condition that turns some of your hair pure white and other parts pure black. I myself do not have this but I wanted to she'd some light on it since it's very rare and needs to be talked about. And mind you everyone that has it is so unique and gorgeous. Anyway I hope you enjoy the first chapter and I will be posting the second one soon. Have a lovely day/night 💜 p.s. lmk if any of u would like to be tagged in upcoming chapters :) also I would like to add why they became friends so quick. Because they both understand eachother and I've had to raise my own sibling and in my experience kids will play with any other kid straight away if they want to play with them. As long as they wanna play and have fun kids will become friends straight away.

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A 12 year old Amy sat in the back of her mother's black Chevrolet Impala as they drove down a road through the woods to crystal lake, her mother was one of the councillors and her best friend Pamela who Amy adored was gonna be there as the cook.

Amy's mother had told her that Pamelas son Jason was going to be there, Amy had never met him but she was excited to meet him since she usually had no friends at camp they all made fun of her poliosis. It's a condition where your hair has black and white streaks and the other kids called her "Cruella Deville" and a "Dalmatian."

Dust flew up from the cars wheels as the car pulled through the gates of the camp, Amy was fidgeting in her seat excited to see Pamela and to meet Jason. When the car pulled up Amy got out of the car and ran up the stairs to the kitchen cabin "Amy Lou slow down!" Her mum called but she was to excited to listen.

When Amy spotted Pamela in the kitchen she ran over to her "Pamela!" She said excitedly "well hello little Amy" she said giving her a hug "my you've grown" Pamela said with her hands on her hips "and look at your hair isn't it beautiful."

Amy hid her face shyly as Pamela smiled at her, Amy's mum came through the door with their bags and the them down "phew glad I got that over and done with" her mother said. "Hey Pam" she said walking over to give Pamela a hug "Hello Bronwyn lovely seeing you again it feels like ages" Pam gave Amy's mother a friendly hug.

"Amy would you like to meet my son Jason?" Pam asked with a smile "yes I would love to" Amy said excitedly "use your manners Amy" her mother said. "Sorry mummy, yes plz" Amy said excitedly "He's playing on the playground" Pamela said taking Amy's hand.

They walked outside and down the back steps of the kitchen cabin and into the playground "Jason I have someone here who would love to meet you" Pamela let go of Amy's hand and walked into the playground. Jason was hiding behind Pamelas back as they walked back over to Amy "don't be shy dear she's very nice."

Jason slowly moved from behind his mother's back and fiddled with his hands nervously "Jason this is Amy" Pamela said with a smile. Amy smiled as he walked closer to her, usually he was used to people looking at his face in disgust and horror but Amy didn't. She only smiled at him and held out her hand for him to shake, he was hesitant for a second before taking her hand and shaking it.

"Now Amy I have a question do you know ASL?" Pamela asked holding Jason's hand "I do, mummys brother is deaf so she taught me" Amy said smiling at Jason. "Wonderful, Jason doesn't like to talk very much so he uses ASL to communicate."

"That's ok, would you like to go and play Jason?" Amy asked whist signing and he looked up at his mother silently asking "go on dear." Jason ran on the playground and Amy followed running to the monkey bars and hanging upside down and playing on them.

Pamela was filled with joy knowing that her son finally had a friend, one that wouldn't bully him or hurt him and one that could communicate with him. Jason shyly tapped Amy on the shoulder and she turned her head to pay attention 'your hair is very pretty' he signed shyly "why thank you" she said smiling.

None of the other kids ever said that about her hair and that made her feel happy 'may please ask why your hair is that way?' He signed and Amy nodded "I have a rare condition called poliosis it turns some parts of your hair pure white and other parts pure black, mummy said I should dye it because I'm made fun of but I like it just the way it is."

'It's very pretty' Jason signed making her blush "thank you" she said back whilst signing, "Jason, Amy time to get ready for the other kids to come!" Bronwyn called from the kitchen. They jumped off the monkey bars and walked through the grass to the back steps and walked up into the kitchen "now Jason you can either stay at our house or you can have a cabin with Amy" Pamela said putting down a box of lettuce.

Amy and Jason looked at Each other and Amy smiled 'I would like to have a cabin with Amy' he signed and Pamela smiled "well that's settled go ahead and take your bags and pick which one you want." Amy and Jason ran to get their backpacks and ran outside into the camp "be careful!" Pamela yelled.

[sinretrograde]

This is kinda our no girls allowed machines only blog, v4v, machinekin, plurality, the nature of consciousness and perception of the self, existential crisis, you know the drill. Mentally ill robots.

This is a personal blog, not a fandom one, but we do touch fandom posts with our dirty little claws. It's in our nature as (extremely canon divergent) fictives. We don't mean anything by it. Swear.

Adult topics will be mentioned frequently.

WE RUN AN UNTAGGED QUEUE

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Inside:

Mod intros

Icon credits

Warning/disclaimer

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I am V1 from ultrakill.

This is my personal blog. Sin Retrograde.

It/they/he pronouns, in that order. I prefer it/it's and they/them, but I won't pretend he/him doesn't give me a particular feeling.

I'm a fictive in a system, this isnt an RP blog. I don't consider myself to be the exact same as my source, despite any similarities, so please dont expect anything from me. I'm just me.

This blog will be more about machinekin than ultrakill, if you want ultrakill specific stuff you gotta follow my other boyfriend's blog. You'll have to find him yourself though.

I'm stupid af irl and I got adhd.

Oh also we're adults. We might talk about adult topics here. We also have a job and pay bills, so I'm not wasting my valuable time with petty shit.

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🩸 I'm here too I'm hijacking this blog, it's a joint blog now. It's consensual. We're making out sloppy in the tags on our shared blog that we both post on. Sin Retrograde.

He/Him and whatever else I feel like at the moment

What difference do we have? I'm a sexier color. And also way more fucked in the head apparently 🙃 so edgy so cringe woo yeah yeah woo yeah sorry I'm trying to be funny to take the edge off...

I'm gonna edit this later when I'm not feeling so bleh... be a little less cringe... I'm just going thru a lot right now okay...

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Icon Credit: VolatileMask on Twitter (aka "X")

I edited it a little, just with a filter to make it ~aesthetic~ but if this isn't cool w the artist lmk (as far as I could tell as long as I give credit it's okay)

We'll probably replace with something we draw or make once we get around to it.

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🚫🚫🚫 ⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ 🚫🚫🚫

We are members of a trauma based system.

At first we weren't going to engage in any fandom posts, but it kinda became inevitable. There's a reason we took on these characteristics and identities, after all. There's a connection there that's inseparable.

We are WELL AWARE of this and we are not in any stretch of the mind trying to claim ownership or authority over anything! Not the original fiction, not the characters, not the fanart, not the fics, not even any kind of headcanon someone may or may not have.

We might have a tag system but that is for organization if anything, and is not ever any kind of claim or whatever.

➡️ Not everything we reblog has something to do with US and sometimes we just enjoy some art. I dont want to not be able to enjoy the things other people make just because I've based my sense of self on a fictional character. ⬅️

If it makes it easier to think of it like really elaborate and kinda fucked up role play, go ahead.

I feel sad that I feel like I need to say this or point it out, I have seen unfortunate things happen in the past and I'm hoping that by making this very clear I can avoid misunderstandings and just be allowed to exist. The last thing I'm trying to do is encroach on anyone's space. Honestly I'm kinda hoping this blog goes unnoticed, and I kinda wish there was a way for my notes to count but nobody get a notification of who touched thir posts just because I desperately want the best of both worlds. I want to exist alongside fandom, but there's always that fear lingering.